This was created as a self-induced writing challenge to fetishize a phobia. As such, this story contains Trypophobia/philic content. Also clop and 'hole' play. Betareaders responded to this one mostly positive but a small percent felt too ill to read. Listed it under the dark tag due to the nature of the story's disease. Consider this a warning.

Written as a Self-induced Challenge (don't expect Shakespeare): Spindle Shivers had a bright future ahead of her, her cutie mark arriving later than the norm but finally revealing her to be a grand sculptor and finally, a chance to progress with her life. Until the disease struck her by night, revealing the many, many holes made manifest in the mare's flesh. Despite her quarantine, the loss of her future, and suffering; her life continues on.

This is a story of quarantine, adaptation to the challenges of life, finding normalcy in the face of despair, and a lot of holes.