RUN

"Would you risk the little you got left to possibly gain everything you once had back?"

by

J.R. Black Wing

Story Assisted By: TheFictionAddiction

RUN: Chapter 1

“Welcome to the Jungle”

It’s the only place within the sugar coated land of peace where the painful desperation within one’s soul truly takes flight. Desperation that is only harbored within the heart of the one who has lost nearly everything, and no longer has anywhere left to turn. Where that forlorn, almost completely bit-less body can feel like they have a second chance in life; supported by what lies beyond the regal folds of Canterlot.

- Plaque Outside "The Syndicate"

He sighed.

“Where is it!” the unicorn shouted, shuddering his shoulder as the cool silk mist swirled upon his swift disturbance.

Dusty had been out in the nature of the musty woods for quite awhile, to which it was apparent by the ground and dirt that covered up his once clearly defined tan coat and dark brown mane. Instead of appearing to be a normal pony, he seemed to resemble more of an extremely wet and dirty dog that found the huge mud puddle in the park to roll in. The only exception was that the owners were nowhere to be found and the dog was able to delight itself with as much of the ground he could contain. Thus, ending up with having a healthy layer of compounds that make-up the substance called “mud.”

If that wasn’t bothersome enough, Dusty’s current failure towards searching inside the dimming forest of Everfree for a location that is known to be simply called “The Syndicate” seemed to only fuel his increasing anger that only built with the passing minutes. Somehow though, he managed to use that emotion towards his determination, despite suffering some of the bruises and cuts on his coat. However, as time passed, his headaches began to drain what was left of his vast mental energy. Making it hard to propel himself much further along the beaten trail he had so foolishly followed, originally thinking it would help him reach the promised location. That resort for the lonely souls, to which it was said to be “The best bar in all of Equestria.”

What also didn't help him were the two overhanging factors of his situation; Celestia’s sun was already on the horizon and he has just about spent enough of his physical energy, as well, to make his legs shake with the pinching cramps. While still tolerable, Dusty felt that with each aching step he took, the weight of his own sore kneecaps nearly wanted to make his entire body collapse upon the ever increasing, yet mostly exaggerated pain. Something he knew, but mostly felt that a quick rest might be able to fix. After all, it would be considered alleviation on the sticks he abused for about two hours.

He sighed.

Stopping his trug along the broken path that winded further into the thickest vows of the moist, timber grove, he paused, panted, and swiveled his wrinkled head around for a place of rest. Settling his faint stare upon a scoped-in base of a nearby swamp tree, he wiped off the sweat from his pole and moved over towards the new relaxation spot. After moving some of broken twigs from the soft dirt, he slid himself down upon the trunk of tree. Hitting is plot on the ground while exhaling a huge breath of air into the thick humidity, he shook his strained, but almost completely alleviated head. What am I doing? was the thought, a comment that wished he wasn't where he was at the moment.

In regards towards where he was in the wilderness, the pony had walked himself into having no idea on his exact location. Acting upon that state, he decided to conduct a mental retrace of the events he performed in order to further deduct the exact direction of which he came from. However, a midst his own backtracking thoughts, a brisk wind began to blow down some of the fall leaves that hung loose from the canopy. Raining down from the near dead treetops, they shattered within the evening air and fluttered like confetti.

While he rested on the ground, he watched the dancing leaves and mentally began to hear some ceremonial bells ringing. Dusty then grinned with his imagination playing out in his head. Apparently, the leafs made him think a little too far back.

It can always be considered that one of the best aspects of a male life is when they know that they are loved by another individual that cares and nourishes their presence. When they say “I love you” and that the male knows the words truly contain the same meaning that has defined almost every single relationship between ponies and their sufficient other. To Dusty, he had that once. It was in the form of an appaloosa mare that stood in front of an altar with him, dressed head to hoof in white, and said, “I do.”

That mare was also the same one that ran out of the hall while nearly dragging himself down the outside golden steps. Meanwhile, rice and pink paper were thrown in the air. Ducking upon the oncoming bits of grain that tapped his face like he was in the middle of an showering hailstorm, all the unicorn could possibly see was his new wife pulling him threw the aisle of family members and friends that have gathered to celebrate their day of “tie-ing the knot.” The tunnel vision that only managed to project her blurry grey and white spotted coat that meshed threw the white of her gown that flew in the breeze of their sprint.

With their final destination being the golden chariot that stood at the end of their long pink and littered with tissue carpet, the newlyweds boarded on the back of the buggy and waved towards their entourage. While the crafted materials still flew within the air above the scene, Dusty was overcome with an anchoring amount of joy towards what stood next to him. A beautiful lady that he knew for quite awhile, but now had for the days they called… forever.

He tried to smile towards her. However, at an inconvenient second, a piece of confetti flew into his open mouth.

Tasting the dry, bitter, and somewhat salty leaf, he spat out the dead plant and nearly coughed upon the saliva he produced.

Extending his left hoof out in the process, Dusty covered his mouth with his right hoof and nearly hacked out all of the lose water that accumulated around his tongue. Upon the resolution of his episode, the stallion noticed that his left hoof was still up and pointing towards a glossy branch with dangling moss. Conveniently, upon his discovery, he noticed that the limb of the tree had traces of his muddy footsteps implanted in the ground below it. That simple deduction gave the stallion enough reasoning to think that he might be able to walk out of the situation he placed himself in.

I feel foolish… The way out of here was right under my own four hoofs, he thought to himself before picking up what was left of his stressed body.

Picking himself up and out of the dug-in he sat, he wiped off the gravel that was engraved in the side of his scraped up rear-end. With the pebbles falling toward the ground in front of his tree, the pony began to enjoy the sensation of not enduring the same pain that was previously present within his cannon parts of his legs. Instead, he felt slightly sore around the joints as he attempted to further himself away from his resting spot. Sadly, the buckskin still found himself limping upon his blacklegs. According to logic, they were able to take a bit more of the force he produced by his ruffling motion.

Passing underneath the low laying moss that grazed upon his tattered, dust coated mane, he felt it drag across the arc of his back. As a result, he felt the soothing wetness of the curly, light green appendages gliding over the jagged slashes in his skin. He snorted out a breath of air.

Continuing to advance beside his own footprints, he observed the nature of some of the green vines that drooped from the bayou trees that still surrounded the entire scene. Making the atmosphere as wet and dim as the sun’s weaning light, the infesting plantation wasn't going to slow down the pony, as he was focused on stomping through almost any obstructions that the environment continued to impose. This included another weave through a low-laying blanket of moss.

However, after he ran the water threw his injuries again, he felt an incredible sharp sting that resonated from some of the cuts being reopened. Burning with same intensive focus of his returning knee pains, the stallion shouted in agony. After rearing up and kicking out his forelegs, he galloped towards a gargantuan bolder that protruded from a hillside, covered in the same thick plantation that arose from the marsh. With the rock’s cold, yet rocky rough surface immediately supporting the weight of a four-hundred pound unicorn stallion, the piece of earth helped to calm the horse’s pain as it let out an exhaling aww.

Immediately slipping down the stone and finding the mud with his tail and plot again, he closed his golden eyes to focus upon his soothing twinges. Managing to protrude a tear from his oculus, it rolled down the bleak face of a near defeated warrior of the wilderness. It hit the ground with a quiet thud.

With his head resting against the rock, he declared to himself  “done,” very done with the situation he placed himself in. For at this very moment, he literally needed a sign to help him out. A notification or postage that pointed a way out of the thick, green Tartarus that he wanted to set ablaze. After all, he did think that it would help someone locate him since smoke trails commonly don’t go unnoticed in Equestria.

Therefore, with that bright idea in his head, he lit up his horn and engulfed it in a golden aurora. Wandering his eyes around for a spot to shoot his incineration spell, he steadied himself upon a brusle of leaves and moss that was bundled inside an entangled mess of vines that hung across from his position. Steadying the shot, he pointed the tip of his horn towards the intended target before noticing a piece of wood dangling underneath the natural ball. While any normal piece of plywood would be considered something to ignore, there was a particular feature on this board that made the stallion break his concentration.

Dangling underneath the plank was yellow piece of fabric that swayed with the light breeze. With his eyes fixated upon it, the panting victim of mis-direction cocked his head towards his left shoulder as a thought pondered within his pounding head. Why does that look familiar to me? he said to himself, scratching the back of his mane.

It dawned on him.

Treating the sight as his discovery of the century, he got back up on his hoofs. With his eyes nearly watered up, he knew that he had found the sign for the bar. A broken, unmarked, yet still hung marker that silently indicated, for those who knew, where exactly the location was. But wait, he thought, If that yellow marker indicated where the bar was, then where is.... he broke his thinking.

Turning his entire body towards the boulder he gracefully rubbed himself upon, the stallion began to thoroughly observe the rock. Almost immediately, he noticed the smoothness of it’s surface. Realizing the texture matched that of concrete, the slab was soon to be seen in his eyes as a side of the old place.

“Oh thank Celestia!” he cried out, knowing his search for the place was finally over.

He fully understood that it was an incredibly hard place to find.