In the Glade
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The Filly I Met In the Glade

In the Glade

The door slammed behind me, startling the birds in the trees. They took flight in a black blur of flinging, squawking shapes. I stomped out into the little front yard and paused at the street, wings clenched at my sides. Tall trees rose up around me, their thick green leaves stretching high over my head. The sun filtered through only in little patches that swayed gently as the soft, warm breeze drifted through the leaves. Directly beneath the canopy was a stretch gravel that the people of this town called Rocky Road, some kind of pun to do with the local baker and his “world famous” homemade ice-cream. The houses across the street were made in some kind of town-house-meets-log-cabin style, filled with old wood finishes and multiple fireplaces; despite the winter-less climate of the town. In front of me, I could see two such houses. The only thing they differed in was yard decorations and the color of their fences; but ask any townie and he would tell you the colors of the purposefully old-looking wood differed too. “My house is tan, the others are light brown.” It was disgusting, the way they all fit in. My house was the only one that was truly different. It sported blue plastic paneling that clashed with the blindingly yellow backyard fence. Unlike the majority, we did not have one in the front yard. Mom thought it was too intimidating and would keep friendly neighbors away; in a town where neighbors were the most important thing next to family.

The houses in front of me spouted a thin grey smoke from their chimneys and filled their respective side yards with flickering shadows cast by their mauve colored curtains. It was a hideous display of summer ignorance. It was almost eighty degrees, how much warmer did they need to be?

The trees above me struck up from the ground almost at random and ran all the way down the road. Rocky Road twisted and circled about purposefully to avoid them. The Eco Warriors who founded the town were violently against tearing down nature’s beauty for pony convenience, though they had no qualms about filling the skies with so much carbon dioxide from all the fireplaces. Of course, that also meant that the town had its very own local forest. The locals call it Eco Sanctuary, or ‘the Eco’ for short, but on any map it’s just called Oreville Woods. It surrounded the town in one big ring that eventually wound its way into a four mile long stretch of forest. It’s said to be overgrown and unkempt; ‘with real, natural beauty and free from the tampering of ponykind.’ That also means secluded. Alone. The more I thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. I turned away from my brash and tasteless house and marched down the road, past the dozen look-alikes. I grit my teeth the whole way, forcing my mind away from home and this hideous town. I kept thinking about the forest, the peace I would find. I left the shouting and the slamming doors behind as I came upon the forest.

A small opening cut between the brush and allowed me a safe entrance. The world darkened under the complete canopy. Sunlight and copy-houses disappeared in place of a kind of glowing greenness that surrounded me entirely and played with the shadows cast by tree trunks and bushes and ivy. Crickets chirped somewhere beside me. It was a stunning change from the neighborly greetings of the townsfolk. As I delved further inside, squeezing my way between the trees and skipping over little patches of sharp toothed leaves, the town fell further and further behind. I left the eco warriors, the chimney smoke, and the sharp gravel road. It all became thick woods and smooth dirt floors.

A few yards in, the trees began to thin and the heavy brush subsided. Pathways stretched and twisted through the woods and curved in random, strange ways that were not ponymade. I paused here to catch my breath and pluck burs from my coat. The little buggers had sunk themselves deep, pricking painfully at the soft skin underneath. When only their prickly little shards remained, I stood and closed my eyes and pointed in a random direction. After a small spin, I opened them and stuck to that direction. The forest accepted me and folded me into its belly and the further I went into it, the more it rewarded me. My wings opened and carried me into the sky where the wind tousled my short brown mane and played with my brown pinto coat. The bur shards did not last the caress of the wind that somehow spontaneously seemed to cure all my ails.

Deeper into the forest I went as the sun strode confidently through the sky. It hit its peak and delved down into the afternoon and sent its golden light through the nearly impenetrable canopy. Small pockets of golden halos fell across the ground and I occasionally lit upon the forest floor to stop and bathe in its comforting warmth. Minutes ticked away into an hour and I began to look up into the trees. Their branches crossed in strange, fascinating ways. They made patterns and shapes but the further I walked, the more I noticed how similar some of them were. I continued delving on, weaving around the trees. Some part of me paused and I set my hooves on the ground once more. The dirt squished, fresh and untampered, beneath me as I continued my trek on hoof. Soft earth lightened my every step, growing tough and matted around the roots that I hopped over the tree trunks I paused to visit. And the more I walked, the more I watched the canopy. There was a little collection of branches that looked remarkably like a kitten. There was an alligator, and a light saber, and a kitten, and a teapot, and an alligator and a kitten...

I paused and a dirty hoof smacked my forehead. I leaned into it, letting myself fall to my rear. "I've been walking in circles," I moaned, falling to my back. "I'm lost." A tiny ray of sunlight broke through the green and descended across my dirt-covered forehead. It fell over my furry chest and my wings, warming me down to my skin. A soft moan rose from my breast and my eyes closed to enjoy the sensation.

Ssshhhh... Sssshhhh...

My ears perked. The sound of rushing water echoed through the forest. Lifting myself up, I looked around and found a small grove on the other side of the path. Shadows filled the entrance, masking not the soft swishing of water but the sight of the river that offered such a sound. Brown strings of weeds curled around the bushed and forced them apart into a little hole just reminiscent of the entrance I crawled through. It was barely wide enough for a colt my size but if I squeezed down really small... My tongue swished in my mouth, my body rumbled at the thought of drink. So I dragged myself out of the sunlight, tucked my wings tight against me and wriggled through the opening. The river was just there, it bent away from the thinning line of trees that I had crawled through and doubled back to strike away from the town. On either side of the bank, the trees thinned and created a little glade that sat in a protected bubble of nature, open only to the bright blue sky. The earth hardened here, matted and stamped by the passing of many forest creatures and smoothed by the nearby river. The sight of its clear, rushing water set my mouth afire and I trotted toward it, stomach churning and tongue lolling. But before I had even so much as stooped my head, something caught my eye. Something pink and fuzzy with a mess of curly red hair.

A pony stood across the river, head down and body strained. Her tail sat in my direction and I could just barely see the top of her red head. She was a little pink filly, unicorn or earth I could not tell; but as she raised her head to cast her gaze elsewhere, I saw that she was an earth pony. Short and stout, she had to be no more than seven or six, with no cutie mark on her flank that I could see. The filly moved along, skipping and hopping in a strange, choppy sequence that went from slow, methodical steps to balancing, wobbling leaps. Occasionally she almost slipped and I strained forward, wings snapping open to fly to her rescue, but she caught herself at the last second, dipping only one hoof into the water. The water that rushed all around her, gently prodding at her hooves. Water that swam beneath her in neat little currents that supplied tiny darting fish. Water that... that... She stood on!

A cough escaped me, alerting her as I scrambled across the bank. She froze at the sight of me desperately flapping my wings until we were level. Carefully, she turned round to face me. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was shy and small as her fuzzy body.

"You're walking on water!" I paced the edge, heart pounding loudly in my ears. It drowned out the rushing of the river and the small chortle from the filly. "You're an earth pony, you shouldn't be able to- but- you can't walk on water. How are you doing that?"

Her dark hazel eyes flicked down to her hooves and she frowned, her muzzle pulling into a curious little smile. "Well, I guess I am. How about that." She shrugged, a delicate gesture. "I hadn't even noticed."

"How c-can you... What?"

"It's easy. Want to learn?" She pivoted and walked smoothly across to the opposite bank, sitting down and smiling at me. "Anypony can do it."

My eyes widened, a small skip overcoming my heart. "How?"

"You take one hoof and very carefully place it in front of the other. Mirror that move with the opposite hoof. Repeat."

My wings flapped, lifting me up with short bursts and depositing me back to the riverbank. I skipped about excitedly, head spinning and stomach churning. An earth pony who could walk on water. And she was about to teach me how to do it! Everything within me quivered and shook. Was I really going to do this? Would the river hold my weight? How? Why? Was it some kind of magic? I looked up to see the filly with her chin in hand, watching me with a grin. My muscles tensed, my heart hammered and I stepped forward. The air about me, crisp and clear and sharp, hung still for a second as I sucked in a deep breath, reached out a hoof, and gently placed it upon the surface. Sweat fell across my brow, my heart paused, my breath held and I leaned into my hoof.

The world fell away from me and I pitched down, scooting down the bank and slipping into the cold grip of the river. Water rushed through my fur and battered at my wings, sweeping them away from my sides and carrying away a few loose brown feathers. Some rushed up my nose and choked back out from my mouth as I struggled to lift myself up, coughing and spluttering. I sneezed, the convulsion spraying little droplets of water in every direction. I carried my sopping self back to the bank and collapsed in the dirt and dust. My eyes opened just in time to see the filly jumping across the river. The closer she came, the better I could see her. Tiny pink hooves scrabbled over stones and rocks that just barely poked their head at the surface. Skilled hooves stepped across these rocks that made a path from one end of the river to the other. Finally, she hopped up onto the river bank and trotted toward me. Looking down with a smile, she stuck her hoof into my sopping, dirt coated muzzle.

"I'm Cadance. Everypony calls me Cotton Candy."

With a groan, I took her hoof. "Scavenger."