First Case: Blackwood's Dilemma

Chapters

Normality is Overrated - The Green Cat
Normality is Overrated - Wild Emotion
Normality is Overrated - Meaning Behind History
Normality is Overrated - Yellow Flash

Normality is Overrated - The Green Cat

Author's Note

Welp, this chapters were part of the story The Beginning: Where It All Starts. However, I couldn't just erase them after making them, so I just separated them and will continue working on them as a side-story now.

This said, I will work on this story at a slower pace than my other stories, so expect slow updates, which will occur after every five chapters or so added to one of my other stories.

Normality is Overrated - The Green Cat

(??? POV)

The afternoon sun – or what I’m guessing is past noon – is casting a warm light on this western-like town. Combined with the occasional cool breeze, it’s no joke when I say I can lie on the grass and doze off almost immediately.

But there’s so much in my mind I can hardly think straight, and when I do have moments of peace in my head, I think back to the night I faced Nightmare Moon. If that actually happened.

The factors backing it up are: where did she go, and the small time it took me to get into…Fauna’s…house – the one that’s probably been abandoned for years. It took me…I don’t really know how long it took me, but I’m sure it was more than the one minute gallop back to her house.

That forest-NO! Maybe even this world doesn’t make sense! This town…is beyond weird.

The walk in here was as I expected. Long, boring, the barren ground wasn’t hard on my hooves, but what really stood out was the unforgivable heat beating me down constantly. I was saved by all the sweat covering me. *Sigh* It was really dumb of me to wear a scarf…actually, the scarf was cold. Like a portable air conditioner for my shoulders to the head, and I won’t ask how that’s possible because it kept me from dehydrating to death. If I hadn’t had it-NO! I shook my head forcefully, Nonononono! I’m alive! F-Fauna is right. I still have that. I took a deep breath and released it, calming my nerves. I tilted my head to the side, But did I really meet Fauna or- I shook my head in hopes to finally get rid of those thoughts. That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

I bit my lower lip to fight a sharp pain in my chest. It-it happened. W-whatever that was, it happened. The tightness in my chest loosened, letting me release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Just…focus on what’s right here. The strangeness about this town, the one I can see and feel at the moment, is the grass that covers the streets and the air that sends a pleasant chill down my back.

Why is it that out there felt like the sun was trying to kill me, but in here, I moved my gaze directly at the sun, but I don’t feel the punishing fire on my eyes. Instead, the sun is like a luminescent orb with rays pleasant for the eyes and warm for the skin…coat actually.

The more I stare, the less I have to fight against my eyes to keep them open. *Yaaaawn* I stretched my forelegs up and my legs out until I heard them pop. Then I slumped back on the bench; my head barely touching the back as I lazily watch the mostly clear skies.

There’s a reason why I said ‘mostly’, and that keeps adding to the strangeness of the place. Can I get a break and see something normal? Is that too much to ask? The clouds’ - four of them - color are at least a normal white; they are puffy, close to an oval shape, and focusing just enough, I can tell two are wrinkled like a dried grape.

And everything I mentioned after the color white is the strange part (I should get a quarter every time I use the word strange, and I be rich in a day). First off: clouds aren’t supposed to have any form of shape; they’re more like the random splotches of a canvas. Second: they are positioned on top of the town as if anchored to the place, and there’s not a single cloud anywhere else. Third – and the reason of my distress –: why are they so close to the ground?! Shouldn’t clouds be thousands of feet in the air? So why…

I bend my head forward, letting it hang idly and drawing a long tired sigh. Somehow, I’m a bigger idiot for expecting something normal.

And in my line of sight is the grass that breaks the natural laws I saw on the way here.
I stared for a while longer until I decided I’m not going to break my head over this. I will just…let it go.

It’s safer for my sanity to focus on my main problem: how to get back home.

I crossed my forelegs, but when they were pressed against my chest, I could feel the last traces of hot sweat against my skin. I managed to ignore it, So how do I do it? Find some mystical portal? Look for an old wise wizard? How about-

A long, deep growl cuts my thoughts short, and…my cheeks are probably as red as a tomato at this point. I moved my han-hooves over my stomach while I looked at the sides frantically.

The bench I’m sitting is near the edge of the town, with the back facing the relentless wasteland that’s a few yards away. Colored ponies – wearing bandanas, scarfs or occasionally hats (just plain hats) – trot the street in front; I see groups of them chatting, smaller ones running to someplace and most entering and exiting of what I’m guessing are restaurants, but none are glancing my direction.

My stomach has quieted without me noticing, but now I can’t ignore it because of the pain. It begins growling again, demanding me to feed it anything. And I’m serious about the anything part. Even if bugs are in a pony’s diet, I doubt my stomach would mind much.

The thought of it makes me want to vomit. I pressed a hoof against my muzzle, and when nausea left as fast as it came, I swallowed for good measure. But I found the simple act painful and almost impossible to do; I swallowed harder, desperate to get some liquid down my dry throat.

After I forced it down, I’m left panting while licking my lips to keep them wet. My breaths become shallow as the gravity of my situation sinks deep into my head.

I hugged myself for support before my body trembled on its own, Breathe. Breathe. Remember to breathe. That becomes hard to do as every breath sends small jolts of pain around my chest. Almost as if my own body is beginning to give up on me.

Again and again I try, but I always get the same painful result until my lungs decided to work properly. Then my body followed their example and calmed down, but, despite how terrifying it was, it did some good. It helped me realize how bad things actually are: I don’t have money, I will always be a stranger no matter where I go, I don’t know the first thing of survival or living by myself, and I don’t know anything about this world other that it has forests, towns and the other unexplainable abnormalities!

I looked back at the street, worried that I might have attracted attention, but I see everypony going on with whatever activity they’re doing.

Is it lucky that no one has paid me attention, or is it just me being inconspicuous as a shadow? I pondered over the pros and cons, but settled in with what I think it’s best, I need to learn how to act normal around this ponies. It’s bad enough my body gives the wrong impression, I don’t anypony to think I’m strange. Heh, me strange. That’s funny.

Knowing that staying seated all day classifies as strange, I took a final deep breath to calm the last of my nerves before venturing into the unknown again. That and I need to find something to eat and a way to buy the food.

“REJOICE BLACKWOOD!” I almost jumped off my seat, and had the voice not sounded friendly, I might’ve actually done it.

The ponies on the street turned towards the source and made way for something to pass. What I see first is a bright green pony with white short mane and tail; then the cart he’s strapped to is carrying various green flowers. What kind they are, all I can see is green.

The pony unstraps himself in record time, literally stepping forward before the cart tilts forward because of the absence of a driver. His toothy grin is impossible to miss however, something that can be a sign of confidence or arrogance. He stands on his hind legs with his hooves raised high, “I brought you the fruits of your late Father!”

An entire chorus of *GASPS* fill the air. Silence follows as the male pony goes to all fours and chuckles at their flabbergast expressions.

Did I…miss something? My voice of reason answers me, You’re new here, so probably some kid’s birthday. A drunkard getting drunk in a bar and kicked out. And let’s not forget that rich couple arguing of why they wanted a second kid in the first place.

I decided to ignore most of what it said – especially the last part –, and pay attention to something that doesn’t kill my already low self-esteem.

“How do we know you’re not another pretender?” I don’t know who it was amongst the crowd, but I did recognize an accent, not southern, but it made the words more drawn out. I can only describe it as someone over-pronouncing the words. “I never seen you around. That means you’re not from around here.”

“Yeah! That’s right!” The cheery pony talks normal English.

“Why should ya have something only Father and his children can grow?!” …This is an odd mixture of southern and a drawn-out speech.

The local population, what I assume because of the ‘subtle’ hints in word choices, is glaring at the outsider with different levels of anger that I thought one of them would start yelling.

This pony though, seems unaffected, “I could go to detail of how my village’s Elder sensed the illness of your beloved Father.” Their anger changed to mild confusion. “I could recite the prayers she conveyed to the devas.” Now the murmurs started, too many for me to hear anything but garbled words. “Lady Viola is worried sick for the future of your village, so I took it upon myself to see her wishes come true.”

I’m lost at this point; I don’t have the slightest clue of what’s being mentioned here. But what’s clear is the skeptic of some ponies, but the rest I can only describe as hopefulness.

The bright green pony arched an eyebrow, “Since words are not enough to convince the nonbelievers, then a second opinion will prove what I said at the start: this is the fruits of your late Father.”

A white light surrounds his forehead as if-He’s a unicorn?! I swear, there are times I can’t even trust my 20/20 eyesight…or maybe that’s me not paying enough attention.

By the end of my small realization, a flower surrounded by the same light is hovering next to him, and thinking about it, that smug of his never left him, “I’m all aware, hehe, pretenders have attempted deceit this town for every last bit, so choose amongst yourself the pony who you trust that will give their honest opinion.”

His gaze wanders around some more as the murmurs resume. A voice, much like my own, starts voicing its own thoughts, I bet he rehearsed that line until he could say it with a straight face, and you know what, I raise with the money under my pillow, that the per-pony who comes up, is in league with that guy.

“I will go!” A female pony - brown coat and dark mane styled to the side - from the side walks towards him.

That was a little too energetic, my eyes narrowed as my brow furrowed in agreement.

Their nods of approvement go wasted as-she stops and smiles at the many locals who are probably her friends.

I blinked. Now realizing I’m making that face, I rubbed my eyes to get rid all signs of its existence. With fully open eyes and a (hopefully) neutral expression, in case somebody decides to glance my way – which will probably not happen – I refocused as the unicorn…um…levitated the flower to her…hoof. ...I have to learn how to speak ‘normal’...again.

She examines the flower from all angles and even gives the pony a cold look from what I can tell; he shrugs and motions towards the plant with his head.

So the ponies and I watch as she inches the flower closer to her snout. I wonder how suspenseful this is for everybody else? A long glance at the ponies gathered, now all of them are watching wide-eyed and a few are biting the edges of their hooves – similar to how a nervous person bites their nails.

The simultaneous gasp drew my eyes into the main event again. Right now she’s chewing with about half of the stem left on her hoof.

Again, the importance of this is lost on me, and I’m wondering why I am still watching thi-my eyes shot open at what I hope is the heavenly taste of that flower doing their magic. After the pony swallowed the flower and whatever substances it had, her eyes slowly turned wider into perfect circles which shouldn’t be nor-forget it; I decided to give up on the word normal while in this place. The leftover stem falls out of her grasp, and when the stem finally touched grass, everyone’s attention focused back on the green pony with a harsh glare as someone shouts “What in Tartarus was in that bucking flower!?”

“How was it?” Hard to believe he isn’t stuttering under the atmosphere.

“That… That… That.” I began hoping to be right about this. That the taste it has left her dumbfounded. After the fifth ‘That’, her mane and tail spiked. Literally, now her side hair turned into black spikes that decorate the side of her face; her tail resembles dozens of black thorns clustered unorderly.

“Huh,” even without the word normal in my vocabulary, that was…was…I got no words how to describe this other than how I’m feeling: confused.

Her lips quivered for some moments until they’re pulled into the longest smile that should’ve split her face, “I tasted the forest!”

“Huh?!” What comes next are the long cheers of ovations from the crowd, “Weren’t they angry a second ago.” No reason to keep it to myself if no one’s listening.

Hats, bandanas and scarfs are thrown airborne and then they…stomp the ground? I’m left staring as the green pony joins in with a loud, hearty laugh.

“Is this…clapping?” If I hadn’t seen this, I would’ve never made the connection.

“I hope that clears all suspicion of my origins. Now,” His cheerful expression turned somber faster than what I could register it, but the ponies watching are giving him a concerned eye for reasons I will never understand, “Lady Viola would never admit this openly, but Creepyparlor’s been suffering…financial issues.”

Everywhere I could see, the ponies were eyeing this pony with concern, and I’m on the sidelines watching with confusion and incredulity. Are they…really buying this? This guy could be lying and they’re just-

“How much?” The silence really helped her sweet tone – the one with black thorns for hair - project for everypony’s ears.

I blinked twice, finding it hard to believe this is really happening as the green pony gives the meekest of smiles, “One bit for each flower.”

I began coughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the offer. I can’t count the exact number of flowers in the cart – nor know the money value of…bits –, but a quick glance tells me there are hundreds there. Once my coughing fit ended, my eyes returned to the cause of my annoyance.

These ponies…are doing exactly what naive youngsters do when watching a beaten puppy on the street: watch it sympathetically with a sad frown that turns into a kind smile. What they don’t know is that same puppy has strong canines that will chomp down on anything that’s edible.

“I will take ten!” She holds up a hoof with some gold and silver coins that she pulled from…actually, I got no clue where she pulled them from. And for my sanity’s sake, I dropped the question.

And soon after the first purchaser, many more joined.

“I want twenty!”

“McPants, don’t eat a single one of them!”

“One bite, and it’s my money anyways!”

“Do you have other colors than green!?”

I take this guy is not claustrophobic, because he’s swarmed by multicolored ponies from all angles. Becoming lost in a sea of colors as I formed reasons of everything that’s wrong at the moment, This could still be a trick. Maybe the first one was the only real one and the rest are fakes. Gain the trust of your buyers so they buy quick and go satisfied, then you yourself sneak out from the center and leave before your scam is revealed.

I stared for a couple of more seconds. Then everything doubled on its own with my head becoming weightless as air. After some failed attempts, my hoof finally grabbed the arm of the bench to keep myself from falling, and when a moment passed, I noticed my heartbeat began to slow down. ...It slowed down...slowed down...slowed down...as if-my eyes widened. I pressed my other hoof against my soaked chest and started forcing the breaths rhythmically.

I should be scared, by all means crying and begging for help. But after my heartbeat returned to normal, my stomach redoubled its efforts to gain my attention, and if its threats are any indication, it’s going to get worse.

My chest rises and lowers in a slow rhythm as another hungry roar enters my ears. It got louder as I remembered that pony eating-no, that’s not the right word. Savoring, yeah, that’s the right word, savoring that flower until she chewed it the enough for her stomach to take in the second round. Piece. By. Piece.

I’m over-exaggerating something so simple, but starvation is making me reconsider eating bugs – if it’s in their diet of course. Then it hit me. Ponies eat grass! I smiled – maybe bordering manic levels but nobody is paying me attention, so it’s fine – at the simple solution to my life-threatening problem.

I seen that pony eat a flower, so grass should be like eating a cookie. I began searching all around me. Not sure why exactly. Maybe for a good patch of grass that’s a little greener than the rest.

But I found something that drew a long drool, and it’s the kind that starts on both ends of the mouth and leaks like a broken pipe.

I began thinking of the possible flavors this daisy could have; it’s small actually, and right next to the bench’s leg too, so I don’t have to walk much.

If it’s like eating a cookie, what flavor would it have? Chocolate chip? No. An oatmeal? Doesn’t look like an oatmeal. Vanilla? A vanilla frosted cookie? …Its petals are white.

Vanilla…now that’s a flavor I ki-do anything after the inferno I survived. My free hoof hovers closer to it, and I mean hover for my limb feels…numb. As if all nerves turned off and it’s nothing more than a movable prosthetic (I would call it robotic arm, but then I still feel the cold metal against my skin).

I hunched down, about to grab it when a very, powerful gust comes out of the blue and pushes the bench off its legs and onto its back, with me rolling to my stomach from the impact and groaning as pain is registered throughout my body.

To somebody with more mass on their muscle (and having some muscle to begin with), this pain could’ve easily been brushed off. I rose to my hooves gently, and I stood still until my knees stopped shaking.

Looking past the fallen bench, the crowd of ponies are still doing…business with the other pony. What happened to me, clearly didn’t reach them. That, or they’re used to spontaneous gusts with the power to throw a pony my size...this statement lost all value. Moving on.

Something from above did catch my attention. It’s a light…well…it’s difficult to understand how a rainbow, thin streak is in the air. I turned around to follow where it leads, and at some insane distance, cause I don’t know how something managed to fly that far, is a small black figure at the end of the rainbow.

I’m far from discovering the identity of this pony, or its color scheme. The rainbow thingy gives me a clue, but I’m not sure if that’s the coat or the mane.

I kept staring at the lone figure as the rainbow strip dissolves from my end towards it.

Then, as quick as it flew over there, it disappeared to someplace.

…What was that? *Sigh* If I get distracted like with those crazy, emotional ponies, I will get more hungry and then I’m in real trouble. I pondered on that one for a moment and tilted my head, I’m already in trouble. …food…FLOWER!

I turned to the last spot of my free snack to find…it gone. Did it get…blown away? I rubbed my forehead, hopping that the headache will leave me alone. What…am I going to do now?
Staying here won’t help me, so with a final sigh, I walked over to my saddlebags that have also fallen with me.

“Huh?” There’s something white on top, and when I walked over to it, the identity of the object was…anticlimactic to discover.

It’s just a piece of paper. A thorn piece of paper from top and bottom, and the writing it has is firm with straight lines:

Just know I’m a huge fan,

and I wish you luck in tomorrow’s race.

Did this come from that pony? I rubbed off the last beads of sweat I will probably shed, and extended my hoof to grab it and throw it away. But stopped within an inch from reaching it.

…I couldn’t grab a spoon, but I could grab a scarf. Can I grab a piece of paper? Looking back, I don’t know how I lifted it in the first place. Thinking about made my nose scrunch in response, I wonder how I look right now. If only I had a mirror-getting sidetracked. Focus!

I pressed my hoof against the surprisingly soft material, Wh-what is this made of? Silk? Shaking those pointless questions away, I scuffed my hoof away. The wind can take care of it. I have too many troubles to go look for a trash-the moment I pressed my hoof on the ground, something smooth stood between it and the grass.

I shifted the hoof a bit, getting an idea of what it is…How? I raised it so I can get a long look at the base, and there it is: the back part of the paper, a golden color. It’s flat out on the base as if pressed to it, …How?

I shook it, but it remained there. I pressed the hoof against the grass and started scrubbing, then raised it to find the paper still there. …But how? I-I’m not applying pressure or anything.

Right there I considered pulling it off with my teeth, but when I turned my hoof sideways, I could no longer see it. I furrowed my brows before turning my hoof to see the paper. Turned it sideways again and could no longer see it, turned it back and there’s the golden color again.

Thinking fast, with the word food coming twice, I sat on my haunches and tried scraping it with the other hoof. But kept failing as if scratching over one surface. Uuumm…this is not good. I’m getting nervous because I’m going to add another problem to my mental list of problems.

Problem number one: Find a way back home. Problem number two: eat something! If can’t, eat grass, and with luck, it’s safe for a pony’s diet. Problem number three: not looking forward for a long stay, but money is required to survive. Problem number four (last one for now because the list goes on to number twenty): Try not to choke when clearing confusion about my…gender.

I started rubbing my forehead, then switched hoof because the one I was using, paper patched, is frictionless, thus, no good for rubbing.

It’s just a piece of paper. I will forget it’s there and it will fall…whenever my hoof decides to. I knew the entire concept of adapting to a new body is going to be…challenging, but simple stuff like grabbing is too difficult. Then too simple that’s impossible to undo.

After setting the hoof down, I got up to all four and lifted my saddlebags with my nose first – It felt like the natural thing to do. Then raised my nose up high and it slid down onto my back.
I was about to shift the weight, but it already felt right, …This body is so weird.

After I *sighed* for what is hopefully the last time – which will be when my life takes a turn for the better -, I walked around the poor, forgotten bench and made my way down the street.

(Third POV)

The male pony keeps moving with a listless motion in his steps; his nose is pointing down as his eyes, a tired and dreary look on them, stare at the grass below. His equine body has lost its filly-like curves, and his legs have also lost mass of his own, appearing more thin and weak than before.

A few seconds of nothingness pass as he walks besides his first building while in town. ...So, now what?

He doesn’t get an answer, but it isn’t like he was expecting one. He walks past the first building, and continues without paying mind to his surroundings.

“Would the madam like to purchase the finest goods of my collection?”

With a tiny ‘Eeeck’ and a jump, he spun to his right with a hoof pressed over his chest as his eyes stare wide in fear.

In front of him is the same unicorn seller - a paw print over dirt as a cutie mark – with a green flower floating above him. He rubs the back of his head while smiling sheepishly.

(??? POV)

I only assume he thinks he ruined his chance on something. And I pray it’s a sale attempt and not the common mistake many make.

“I-um, I-what did you say,” that would have sounded rude in someone else’s voice. In mine and in the unintentional way I’m posing with my hoof…let’s say it did its ‘magic’.

The green unicorn “Were are my manners? The name’s Trace. Tom Trace.” The unicorn known as Tom Trace is using the same soft tone many (not rather keep a track) ‘elegant’ men use on woman they find attractive.

Oh, God, why? Does he not see this hair?! …I didn’t just worry about my hair! Nope! I didn’t! I didn’t! I didn’t! As I kept my mantra on, and the heat on my cheeks becoming known, Tom decided to continue on.

“Either you don’t like the color green, or I take it you’re not from around here,” he chuckled to his own little joke, “so let me be the first to give you a proper welcome to Blackwood Town.”

I listened to most of it, but before I could ask a question, he hovered the green flower in between us. Its petals, trimmed cut edges and bright green as the unicorn, are arranged similar to a bouquet, but something…peculiar about this is how big they are. I never seen this type of flower, but I’m sure they’re not supposed to be half a foot long. That last thing reminds me of the flower Fauna gave me.

“I…I don’t have any money.”

“It’s on the wagon.”

“W-what,” I moved my hoof down and tilted my head.

“He he,” Tom floated the flower next to him so I can meet his gaze again, “What I meant was, it’s on the house. I couldn’t help it since all I’m going to leave and live in a wagon.” Then he muttered something about ‘and bits’, but I could be wrong.

I looked around him, a small path from the crowd leading to the wagon.

“After almost two long years, we will finally regain our lost province!”

“This is a gift from the nature spirits!”

“This day and forth, we will prove Animus that Father’s stallions and fillies are the best in the country!”

Only the screamers could be heard from the excited shouts, and I’m glad to be at a safe distance from any permanent ear damage. “They sound excited.”

“That’s how they are when offered a good deal, but,” I looked back at him, instead of a smile though, there’s a grim expression with eyes (intentionally?) boring into me. He leans forward, our noses almost touching as his voice lowered for only my ears, “they can be aggressive against anypony who insults their lifestyle. It only revolves around two rules though, so you’re good if you plan on staying for one day.”

“I-I’m staying for some hours,” After eating flowers and anything this body will take.

He stayed quiet afterwards, and the invasion of personal space isn’t helping my uneasiness.

In an instant, that long grin I first seen him with reappears as his gaze softens, “For that reason I want you to take this.” He leans back and the flower with overgrown petals floats between us. I was going to protest I couldn’t take free stuff without paying – in my case it would’ve been a failed attempt since…I’m technically broke –, but the flower that flew in my snout stopped me, “Creepyparlor’s inhabitants are known to never take a no as an answer, and the Spring Blossom will keep you on your feet till the end of the day. Besides, I will feel as trash if I let somepony in your condition wander unfed.”

I looked to the side with a small blush forming – Not for those reasons! It’s that…It’s that somebody actually…worried about me…

“Sorry. Is everything okay?” I heard his concern, but answered with a nod while rubbing the tears off. “Say, if you got no place to go by the end of the day, stop by the hotel. The only hotel in town, and I can give you a free of charge, ride to my hometown. I’m sure the Elder will fix all your problems; she did fix me and that was no easy job.”

I nodded, still refusing to look at him in the eye. I rather not get emotional again and cry, especially in public.

“Right. How about checking the place around? Might be the last time you’re around these parts.”
I nodded, Guess it’s time I leave him alone. He’s busy, unlike me.

Following his suggestion, I turned to my left and began walking. Well, I got a flower, and got some-pony to give me a ride. …I really need to speak up. Getting out of my thoughts, I just noticed I been chewing. For how long? Doesn’t matter. I’m finally getting something to eat, and thankfully it’s not from the ground.

As I continued on, saliva started running all inside my mouth despite the day I had. But right now instead of solving the mystery of where the saliva came from, all I can focus on is the soft taste of salad, along with something familiar…but I can’t quite place it-

This sweet enjoyment is short lived as my stomach growls its demands. I – with delight – swallow. This introduces the sweetest, coldest – below brain freeze temperature –, most delicious vanilla flavor swimming down my yearning throat.

It might not have been water, but it was the best substitute I could have asked for.

*Hic*

Accompanied with a small jump, I covered my mouth before any more hiccups follow.

(Third POV)

Had Tom not been occupied in attention his customers, he would have seen the black “mare’s” posture has straightened. His slim legs stand firm, and his body, healthy as the first time he woke up, has its natural curves back. His coat and mane have a healthier shine, but with no apparent changes on the latter.

The human turned pony sets his hoof down, and continues forward with a small smile as the path ahead isn’t so terrifying anymore. Now, curiosity about the town has set forth in his mind as his worries have been cast aside, ready to deal with them when the time comes.

Normality is Overrated - Wild Emotion

(??? POV)

I should consider myself lucky. Lucky that I look like a girl I guess. …I really have to speak up. It already going to be awkward just telling him I’m a guy; if I don’t, it’s going to be even more awkward if he tries some sort of cliché move on me.

I shivered as something from the back of my mind began to stir, almost propping open a box where I stored...sensible memories. I stopped, closed my eyes and controlled my breathing.

I inhaled for three seconds, then exhaled for three, and kept the number as I repeated it three times.

By now I already have a method of relocking the mental chains on the box. Why I have that? If I got something to stop it, it just means I don’t ever want to remember it, and the fewer problems I have, the better.

When I opened my eyes, I checked my surroundings. The grassy road, half-filled with ponies looks quite nice, and what I mean is, I’m tempted to take bite when nobody is looking – because I got a feeling it’s like picking something before the three second rule (who knows where these ponies’ hooves have been). On both sides there’s a row of wooden structures – not bothering to know what they are actually –stretching alongside the road for …I can’t see the end of it actually.

This place is bigger than what it looks. Weird…wait, didn’t I give up on that word? …I think I did. Even with that settled, the headache in my head said the contrary. I started rubbing my temple-and failed to remember it’s the same one with that soft piece of paper. Seriously, why hasn’t this fallen off already.

I walked for more than ten minutes already and it still hasn’t fallen off! Why is a piece of paper so annoying! This only helped worsen the headache. I put that hoof down and used the other one instead.

*Siiigh* So much better.

With how my life is going so far, I need a distraction. I already have a ride to a place that might – key word here is might – solve my problems, all I have to do is wait till the day is over.
So…what do I do? When nothing really came to mind, I decided to do something…stupid – because it’s not like my life can get any worse.

I made my way to the corner of a building, then sat and slid my saddlebags off. I opened the bag with the book and took it out. This is a really stupid idea. But…what do I got to lose?

More of your sanity. I countered myself, and as much as those words hold water, the same question comes up, What do I have to lose? It sounded more monotone the second time, but maybe my stomach has something to do with it.

Even though the pains and the growling stopped, I still have the urge to eat a whole mountain of pizza, bacon, eggs, pasta-I had to stop in mid-thought to wipe some drool off.

Enough distractions, focus! With both hooves I held the book up and opened it to a random page in the middle.

I looked at the left first, “Empty. Was I expecting someth-” A quick glance to the right made my attention shift to it.

Tribe Conjunction ended up being…fun.

I blinked, then again for good measure, yet the words are still there.

Yeah, this is a magical book, but what does it do exactly? I searched the rest of the page but found nothing else. I wanted to flip some pages and see if I can find the words from yesterday, but…it took more effort than what it looked to just open it, and I didn’t want to try setting it down, then try picking it up until some pony took pity on me and did it for me.

It happened once already, and it was Pebbles who took pity on me…

Tribe Conjunction… The more I thought about it, a nice little distraction would be nice, and the book did say it was fun.

I shouldn’t be doing this, but What do I got to lose? The thought sounded more…alive than before. With some real excitement growing inside me, I shut the book close, and I…fumbled as I tried to put it in the bag again.

As before, I used my nose first to raise the saddlebag and slid it onto my back, but before I turned towards the street, a single sign on the building in front makes me wonder what the book is exactly.

Tribe Conjunction

Haven for unity

All carved in a darker shade brown over the sign that camouflages well with the structure.

…I’m already here… What else am I supposed to think? I knew nothing was going to make sense, but this…is downright scary. At least I don’t have to ask where it is.

I am beginning to have second thoughts about this.

Maybe I’m supposed to come here. A voice in my head argued, Maybe…there’s something that can help me get back home. It’s a silly thought really. It’s silly enough that its laughable. I cringed at my own rudeness. ...I’m too tired to remain positive.

After a shake of my head, I walked over to the front door – a double set of glass doors with a darker shade of brown for its body – and probably the entrance of a good distraction.

Now for the hard part. Thankfully the yellow handle was simple enough to use: raise a hoof, push the handle down and then push forward.

That was easy. A short jingle is heard from the bell perched on top (I didn’t see it, but where else would the sound come from?). What I see first is a well-polished wooden wall, on the left and on the right are hallways that lead into a single red and blue door respectively. As I led the door close behind me, the second jingle is heard-

“Nooneisaloudhere!”

*Eeeck!* Three seconds (I seem to have a thing for the number three) inside the building I’m already getting scared out of my wits…there should be a record for that.

I jumped to the side and turned to face a unicorn giving me the stink eye. “Whyyyyy…” As she began gritting her teeth, I took the tense, but silent seconds to get a good look at her appearance.

Her coat is a light indigo with a darker shades on the sides. The left eye is a color of a shiny gold while the right is a clean sky blue. Her mane’s a strange combination of a puffy yellow on the front, on the sides are two long, dark indigo streaks that fall to her shoulder, and I can’t see what the back looks like, but it’s a safe bet it’s a different hairstyle too.

Her voice sounds around someone in their twenties, a tone of maturity but still soft around the edges. At least her voice sounds like it should be. I tilted my head to the side to look at her cutie mark: A manne-mare...marequin’s head with a wig of six-to-eight hairstyles bundled into one.

“Did you listen to a word I said, Outlander?” She spoke through clenched teeth, each word shaking with a bitterness I can’t place, but there’s something that confused me.

“O-Outlander?”

“Great. So aside from being a lesbo you’re clueless too.”

I took a step back, shaken by the implications of that word, “L-l-lesbo? I-Is it because I looked at your cutie mark? I-I thought it was just a formality-”

Her glare froze me on the spot. “Hmph.” With a whip of her hair, light-yellow strands swing from the back to hang alongside her leg.

That’s a very…peculiar hairstyle.

“If you think my hair is weird, just say it outright,” I shivered as a cold run on my back, and those eyes that would like to see me on fire are not helping.

“I-I would never say-”

Her eyes widened but held a fury that promised pain if I hid the truth, “But you thought about it!” The dark spots on the side as pincers ready stab me. In panic I jumped back and almost fell to my rear.

“W-Wings!” Unfortunately, what scared me was her wings unfolding. But at least my stammering was ignored, or she just pretended not to hear it. Most likely the first one. If not, she would be red with anger.

“It’s always the same with you outlanders,” she took a step closer, “always judging our culture,” then another, “always trying to buy our province.” With the last, our noses are pressed together as I try to shrink out of existence. “We already got enough trouble in our hooves with Lady Amber. We don’t need someone like you stirring more for the heck of it.”

“I-I-I,” tears began swelling up behind my eyes, ready to burst free with a final verbal lash.
“And you know what else-”

“That’s enough Ms. Wilds,” I almost couldn’t believe it, but…somebody came to my rescue.

Ms. Wilds shook from where she stood, and remained there as I stared into her wide-open eyes.

From behind, comes the same voice that holds a tone of patience, “Now, if you would be so kind to step back from the visitor.”

She blinks as if regaining her senses, then returns me my personal space. She blinks again and furls her wings this time, “B-but she-Lady Amber and…”

I had my share of stuttering, but it never got this bad...I think.

“I think it’s time you apologize,” said the same voice that appeared next to me! I shuffled away – more like skidded with how fast my hooves moved – and got a better look at the pony. A polished gray coat, wings like the other pony (I noticed them because one is holding a wooden cane), silver eyes, and short, curly dark mane that is not covered under that dark top hat. And a cutie mark of a tree with a single leaf.

He’s looking straight at me with an honest smile, Did he say that to me? Not wanting to get into deeper trouble, I let out a stammering apology, “I-I’m so-”

He raises a hoof, signaling me to stop, “Not you.” He turns his focus to Wilds, “Her.”

The other pegasus must be trying to think of a proper response, because her eyes are shuffling between me and…I don’t what to call him but the other pegasus.

When I looked at him again, his smile disappeared, but his eyes remain gentle and…is he sad?

“Ms. Wilds, please, Blackwood is facing extinction. Lady Amber’s valuables have been stolen despite our guards employed full time.” He takes a slow, deep breath, and exhales in the same manner, “If this were to be end of the town that held such a bright future once, I rather have outlanders leave with pleasant memories. Do you understand?”

And just like that, her eyes were crestfallen as she took a long glance at the wooden floor before answering “Yes, Mr. Woods.”

When I looked back at Mr. Woods – yes, I’m just looking back and forth like a spectator (again) – his lips curved into a small smile, “Now, how about that apology?”

I blinked, Is this really happening? Just a minute ago she was kinda screaming at me, is she really-

“H-Hey,” after I turned back to her, she refused to meet my gaze, and when she finally does, she began rubbing her foreleg while trying to keep an even tone, “i-it’s that…Blackwood Town has, well, things haven’t been…easy lately.

“Problems never seem to end for us, and now Blackwood’s annual flyer’s race is not just short in contestants, but now we realize it’s going to lead it to its downfall. But...what I’m trying to say is…”

Whatever she’s trying to let out, I can see the telltale of regret (probably for lashing out at me), sadness (this is probably going to be a thing around here), and some traces of anger (like the rest of the ponies I saw on the street) all bundled together in a sobbing pony who threw herself at my hooves.

…Wait, what?

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I swear I’m so soorryyyyy!!!” She pressed her face against my foreleg, even wrapping her hooves around it. And all I got to say is…

“Um, this isn’t…really necessa-”

“BUT it is!” Faster than what I could react, we’re almost snout to snout as her hooves came onto my shoulders, but looking at her bloodshot eyes made me want to back away – if only her grasp wasn’t so strong –, “You won’t believe the kind of stress I’m under! And I’m just the assistant of the Mayor’s assistant! I shouldn’t be having this kind of stress. BUT! I! AM!”

The streams started up again, this time pressed against my neck as she leaned on me for support.

I, on the other hoof, shifted my weight so hers wouldn’t push me to the floor.

*Hic* *Sniiif* I could feel the hot tears soaking my fur, and even more running down my neck, but I ignored it because there is a woman-well, mare, crying her heart out.

Um, I managed to retain that inside my mind, but beyond that…I got no clue of what to do. This is the first time the roles are reversed.

After a slight tap on my shoulder, I moved my gaze to the right to meet Mr. Wood’s. His wing shuffling the cane back into place. As I stared, he lifted a foreleg up and arcs it around the air for some reason.

Um. This time I mouthed the words and he managed to pick up my confusion. With the tip of a wing, he pointed at the crying mare, then moves it over his hoof.

I try to understand what he wants me to do, but…is that…a hug? Without overthinking it, I can see the embrace he’s holding.

My eyes widened in panic. They darted to the mare who’s tears kept running, then back to him. He nodded and I finally understood what he wanted me to do.

I, with the zero experience with girls of any kind, found this…overwhelmingly awkward. “Um…” I looked down at her, but her mishmash of hairstyle is all I can see at the moment.

“D-Don’t worry…” After much effort, my hoof slowly rose. I mentally scolded myself for taking at least five seconds before it patted her head. Even that looked awkward as it moved mechanically rather than from a natural motion. “I-I should have known-”

“How could you have known!?” I flinched, but managed to keep the motion of my hoof going.

Um… DAMMIT! I became frustrated at myself for how useless I can be in these sort of situations, if I’m being honest I would say in general (which is a frequent thing in my daily life).

Needing assistance, I looked back at Mr. Woods, only to see him smiling at me. I realized he was trying to tell me something; I could tell because I obviously needed the help, but what I could not understand is what he wants me to do. He keeps smiling. His hazel eyes have the same gentle tone,…and another emotion I rarely see. At least, it’s the first time it’s directed at me; I always saw that expression around my big brother. All those people (like I’m) encouraged my brother on almost any challenge he set for himself, because we were confident he could pull through – like always.

So that’s why...I couldn’t understand why he was giving me that kind of support.
The sobbing of a girl snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked back down and could only see her wild arrangement of hairstyle and color. The tears have nearly stopped, but that doesn’t make it easier to hear, and now her body is trembling for reasons I don’t understand.

I really want to help her, to say something that will make this better, But what? By now, my hoof stayed still on her head as I tried to think of anything useful.

Then, something warm began gathering around my neck; it’s hard to explain what it is, but if I just had to say what I’m feeling, it would be like this. The warmth caressing my neck moves to the rest of my body, slowly taking away the uneasiness and replacing it with a gentle feeling that promises “Everything will be okay.”

“H-How can you be s-so sure,” her voice almost cracked in the middle, and her struggles for not sobbing are too painful to listen – and this is ignoring the fact that I voiced my own thoughts to begin with.

“Because you still haven’t given up, that’s why.” Why…am I talking like this. So confident…so calm…what’s wrong with me?

“Giving up doesn’t sound too bad…at least I could go to bed earlier.” That sulking tone, and despite her shaking has ended, is already a bad sign.

She really is giving up. But then, why-

“Why are you still here?”

She flinched, whether from the meaning behind my words, or if it just sounded plain rude to her.
Pressing harder on my shoulders, she rose a little from her position. She moves her muzzle up, brushing against mine for a second before staring at me with a dejected look. The corners of her lips already curved downwards as even her eyes lost some color.

Just like staring at a mirror before going to bed.

“W…what do you mean,” her voice is no different, but at least I got her attention.

“If you really wanted to give up, then why are you still here?”

She is genuinely surprised. I don’t think she expected a random stranger – or an outlander as she called me – to talk to her with a tone of concern. But even that banished as she focused her gaze to the side, “Why does that matter?”

“Because it matters to you,” her eyes returned to me, a bit of life returning to them, “you told me how things are going bad for this town, even if the locals don’t show it.” Before I entered, all I saw are ponies going about their everyday life, no panicking, no one shouting that the end is near. Makes me wonder if they’re just putting up a brave face. “You, and everypony else is brave. Did you know that?”

Her eyes shot wide open this time, and I could see a little red on her cheeks. She backed away a little quickly, almost falling to the floor with the first step she took, “O-Of course we’re brave!” She puffed her chest while turning her nose up, and a smile swelling with pride grew instantly, “Father didn’t raise his ponies to mope over little things like probably losing the town. Heh, he taught us to never act like chickens when it comes to the future of Blackwood. ‘Stand strong to adversities, keep your eyes looking forward and with time you will eventually get somewhere.’”

“E-Eventually?” I couldn’t keep my hoof from scratching my cheek. Something about ‘eventually’ sounds like something a stubborn old man would say.

“Yup,” Her smile descended until it became a small grin on both ends, “that’s Father’s persistence passed down to his children, and it’s a teaching we take directly into heart.”

“Um, I been meaning to ask about that, but why does every-pony keep saying Father. Did he-” I clasped my mouth shut with both hooves before I said something I regret – possibly costing me my life –, but it did cost my chin and the floor to meet in a painful manner (for the second time). I scurried back to all fours and made the effort to shut my mouth, waiting for those words to die out before I let anything out.

When my eyes focused back on hers, I saw the last remnants of her glare before it turned into a stare, “Hmmmm, common misconception that our Father actually bedded with multiple mares. Understandable mistake for an outlander.”

“Oh,” my tone lowered more than what I would have liked to. If I still had fingers, and the ability to stand on two legs, I be playing with my fingers at this moment while looking down – the last part I can still do though.

“Perhaps a brief history can help.” I looked to my right to see Mr. Woods kind smile. To be honest, it did bring my mood up a little. “Mayor Dawn Wood – my Father – constructed Blackwood around twenty-five years ago. But why such a place in the middle where life has trouble growing? The answer is simple.” He raised his cane up; his eyes slowly traveling up and down on its surface, as if not risking to miss a single a single crack or split, “It was to stay close to his cousins, the Brightwood Family.”

“Huh?!” I stood upright. T-They didn’t tell me they had cousins…then again, I never asked…and we didn’t have the time to.

A short gasp from my left made my head turn in that direction. Wilds’ mouth is hanging open for flies to fly in, and her eyes widened in levels that made me fear they would pop out of their sockets.

I’m getting the impression that I shouldn’t have reacted so strongly. Turning back to Mr. Woods, his head is tilted slightly while his eyes are more curious than anything, “Forgive me for prying, but where have you heard that name before?”

I think prying is a little too much of a strong word. “N-No, not at all. I-I heard that name before I got here.” Great! I couldn’t have been more vague even if I wanted to. Now he’s going to ask another question. What do I do? I can’t tell him I saw their ghosts. He would laugh, and he have a good reason for doing so-

“Hahahaha,” after breaking from my thoughts, I see Mr. Woods hunched down while clutching his stomach with a hoof. “T-To think-hehe-their name still lives even outside this village’s province. That’s…that’s…” Even before he lifted his face, I could already picture that sad smile.

Mr. Wilds lowered his hoof down, but his head took longer to rise. I got to see his eyes first: gaze fixed to the floor, an air of melancholy fixed on them, and then that fake smile which stung just by seeing it. “That’s a relief.”

Huh? What was…I was trying to think of what I just saw, but Mr. Woods already began moving, so I had to pay attention to him or risk ignoring something on accident.

Wait! What did…what just happened? But before I could think of a logical (if that’s even possible at this point) explanation, he continued.

“As I was saying before…” He tried to bring up a genuine smile, but ended up looking to the side, avoiding my gaze completely, “He did it to stay close to his cousins. At least, that’s why he did it at first. After some years, the second became” he meets my gaze again, and his lips pull up a playful grin “to hitch the fillies that dreamt of a strong stallion at heart.”

My cheeks instantly reddened.

“Let me tell you. Despite his old age, being mayor and the creator of the province around Blackwood made him a celebrity. Especially among the singles left in town.”

The heat began to cover…well, everything of my face, “Isn’t that a little p-private?”

This got a chuckle out of him, “Nonsense. As a guest, you have every right to be treated as one of us.”

And quicker than when it came, my face cooled, “That means receiving all the animosity.” I clammed my mouth shut with one hoof this time. I could feel my eyes turning wide as my mind became boggled with questions. Why did I just say that? Why did I just say that!? WHY DID I JUST SAY THAT?!

The question kept bouncing back-and-forth until I felt a small tap on my shoulders. I jumped back in panic, “EECK!”

I pressed a hoof on my chest; my rapid heartbeat becoming known as well as my need to pant for air.

In front of me, Mr. Woods’ hoof is in midair. His smile replaced with a frown, but I don’t feel it’s directed at me – I know when something is meant for me (but I rather not go into detail).

I can guess he just tried to comfort me, but as usual, I manage to ruin things. …I should apologize. After controlling my heartbeat, I said “I-I am s-s-”

“Sorry.”

To say I’m surprised is not enough, because for me, this just feels…wrong. “B-b-but-”

He shook his head, lowered his hoof, and before I could resume, he spoke, “I won’t ask you to forgive us, but to understand. Even on our worst days, we were never hostile to travelers. But a few months ago, we received messages from ponies claiming they could relink our province with Animus’ ambient magic.”

“HA!” The amount of raw anger boiling underneath makes the word sound more like a spiteful remark. Turning back to wilds, I see her snout is pointing sideways-up, while glaring at me from the corner of her eye, “We were desperate yes, but they were the foolish ones to think we fall prey to third-rate mockery of Nature Teachings.”

I took a hesitant step away. That look on her eyes tells me I should shut up and not provoke her in the slightest.

“Ms. Wilds!” That wasn’t for me, but the volume alone made me flinch. A quick side-glance was enough for me to see the mayor’s disapproving frown, and a rare mixture of disappointment and anger in his eyes.

The combination of words and expression made Wilds stumble back in what I can only describe as shock, “I-I didn’t,” her gaze went to me, but I looked to the floor, knowing the thing can’t glare at me in any way. “I…I didn’t want to,” I could at least be respectful and look at her…but that woman scares me. “…I’m sorry.”

I heard the small clatter of the bell afterwards, signaling someone opened it. Then it came again, meaning the door closed.

What follows is a silence I grown used to, but it felt different. ...Coward, why am I such a coward? She wanted to apologize to me, but I was an inconsiderate-no, ungrateful (yeah, that’s the word) alien that was being explained important information about this town and some of its magic. Yet, I managed to ruin even that: listening.

A hoof rested on my shoulder, and I didn’t have to see to know it belonged to, “This is too late to ask but, will you be okay?”

I began wondering what my face looked like right now. Depressed? Somber? Void of almost any emotion? I’m going for the latter on this one. “Yeah.” At least my voice resembled my state of mind.

“…I don’t want to leave you here alone, but Wilds – as her name implies – is prone to wild outbursts of emotions. I need to get to her before she does or say anything she will regret.”

“…”

“…*Sigh*I’m deeply sorry for leaving you like this, but I have a pony to look out for.” After the sound of hoofsteps over the floor, the bell rang again, but the second one didn’t come. “…Please, take a look around in the museum. It’s not at its prime now, but it will keep your mind occupied until I come back.”

“…”

“…Sorry. For not being more useful.”

The second, and last ring finally came. Leaving me alone to my own thoughts.

Occupied? I mentally snorted, All I want is a miracle. Now silence reigns both inside and outside. With nothing better to do, and lack stuff to think that doesn’t kill the last of my spirits, I began walking forward. Not caring what exactly is inside the museum, but if it does keep me ‘occupied’ until midnight comes, then that’s better for me.

Normality is Overrated - Meaning Behind History

At least the worst of this day is gone…I hope. Which is something that always fails me.

There are a lot of times I’m mindful of what I think, because most of them kill the way I see life…and it’s not like I enjoyed it in the first place.

…For how long have I been walking? Or trotting or whatever. Looking back, I can see the double glass doors I entered a few…couple of dozens of yards? How did I… A quick glance at the other side of the hallway, I can see the red door is obviously farther, but farther than what I thought it should be. Okay, desperation already broke into my thoughts, if something doesn’t make sense soon, I will-

I slammed cheek first against a sturdy, wooden surface. Making me stumble back, and only when I regained my balance did I began rubbing the pain away.

Please tell me I’m not getting a bruise. A least half of my face hurts at the moment, but a bruise would be sensitive to any kind of touch. So…it’s only pain. That’s good…at least.

The pain almost worn out as I set my hoof down; it stayed a while longer, and then my thoughts began running on their own again.

How much attention would I have really gotten if I entered with a bruised face? …Zero, I would get zero attention.

It was a pointless question, but at least it wasted the enough time for me to feel my face again.

Okay, even my thoughts are slow and uninterested, here goes. With that same motivation, I raised a hoof and pressed it against the doorknob, but held it there for two reasons. One: I still have trouble grabbing. And two: because I remembered something, and it’s important for once.

…What happened to me back there? The way I let that slip from my mouth. That…was too weird…even for me.

“That means receiving all the animosity.”

Why did I let that happen? I’m always careful with what I say because big brother told me so. And besides…I shuddered as a memory tried to slip into my consciousness…angry people, are the scariest type of people.

I found another question to get away from that line of thought.

But what about when I told Wilds she was brave? I remembered…something. It was difficult to describe before just like it is now, but it was something like this: a delicate, yet powerful warmth ran inside my body; it made me feel…confident, like if it was something natural for me.

A warm, fuzzy feeling ran through my hoof as it held it.

Huh, focusing back on the real world, all I see is a blue door with a handle.

Wasn’t…my hoof there? Tracing the feeling of my hoof, I looked down to see it on the scarf that I…grabbed? Stole? Would they have given it to me if I asked? Technically, it would have just accumulated dust there…like if it had any to begin with.

I ended up holding the scarf in a strong grip – already feeling better that I could do something on command – and that comfortableness from before extended to all over my leg.

Is it bad…I could’ve sworn I heard cracks when I made the faintest of smiles…that it makes me feel good?

Thinking about it right, I should just let it be because it’s not like I can ask them or anything, and…it’s the closest thing I have to a good memory - excluding everything related to Nightmare Moon of course
.
I held onto the scarf a bit longer until I felt secure again. Why am I getting all mushy of sudden? And I called this place weird. I think that goes for me as well.

I took a slow, relaxing breath. Already in higher spirits than what I was a minute ago.

No time postponing this, I guess.

It took me less time to grab the doorknob – and I mean, to actually grab it – and turn it open.

What I see first after stepping through, is something I seen in every episode or game that revolved around mystery. Already making me regret listening to that book.

In the center of the room is a pedestal – made out of gray granite with a glassy surface – surrounded by what I assume are four guards…who look strangely similar to each other. All equipped with dark-brown helmets that extends back of their necks, and metallic leggings of the same color that covers both for and hind legs.

From what I could tell…they’re investigating the pedestal for something. Two of them are looking at it intensely from bottom to top. In my opinion, I don’t see anything weird about it. Except for the glass case on top that’s holding nothing inside.

The other two, a unicorn and a pegasus, are discussing something on the side while occasionally glancing at the empty case.

“Here to enjoy the museum?”

If been scared so many random times I should be used to it…but I don’t think that time will ever come.

“EEK!” I jumped away from the source and raised a hoof over my face for protection. It is good that it took a moment to realize I’m over-exaggerating. “Oh,” I lowered my hoof slowly, just in case something is about to hit me.

A blush begins to grow as many – not just the guards’ – pairs of eyes stare at me. I just realized there are about 20 ponies or so in here – and some really nice displays of artifacts on the walls.

I managed to lower my hoof down while forming a sheepish smile, “S-Sorry.” After some mumbling, they all returned to what they were previously doing. As for me, I sighed in relieve and let my shoulders relaxed.

“My most sincere apologies for frightening you.” The mysterious voice on the side made a shiver run down my spine. Not because it sounded intimidating. Okay, the deep, husky voice is scary, but he didn’t say anything that suggests I should be scared of him…yet.

“Miss, are you alright?” I was wrong to be scared of him.

“Y-Yeah. I-” The words died in my throat after I turned to properly greet him.

A black coated pony, two hooves taller than me, is forced to lower his head so his blood-red eyes can see me. His spiky, crimson mane is practically overflowing through the edges of the helmet and reach down to his shoulders.

If I didn’t have a reason to be intimidated (or scared) by this pony, I have now one, especially if the pony has a body with muscles fit for a giant.

“I…I…I,” the response I got back is silence and a glare that didn’t falter.

Seconds passed as my uneasiness grew, so after he did a harmless eye roll, I took a step back in trepidation (and yes, I can use big words too). What he did next is turn around, “My name’s Black Bulk, but the townsfolk call me Giant, and the answer to why is my cutie mark.”

I hesitated at first, for reasons that occurred a good five minutes ago, but finally shifted my gaze to his butt tattoo.

I found it very simple and straight to the point talent: an ordinary wooden house about to be stomped by a red hoof coming out of nowhere.

“That’s…self-explanatory.”

“It’s also a nice startup conversation. The new ponies I share this are joyful to hear someone of my stature can bring harm to their homes.”

Unable to tell if it’s a joke or not, I gave a nervous laugh, “Hehe…he.” …Even I got a little crept out by myself.

Giant at least didn’t seem to care, or is used to abnormal behavior like mine, “You don’t get out much do you?” And seems to have no tact with words.

“N-No,” I could’ve lied about that, but that wouldn’t have gotten me anything, and I’m bad at lying. But I’m still smart enough to divert my gaze somewhere before someone gets a wrong idea, “C-Could you turn around?”

“Hm?” I didn’t see him turn his head, but I still felt a pair of eyes on me. “I’m aware this manner of conversation is rude, but I only wish to show you my good side.”

That’s not the only thing you’re showing. Seriously, I rather not think about it.

“It’s natural to be afraid of someone with my appearance. I understand completely.”

“W-Well,” I swallowed before choosing my words carefully, “it’s not really your colors I’m afraid of, but your height.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s pondering on it, or just trying not to be offended. Can I offend someone by calling them tall? …Is it the same as telling a black person that I’m scared of him because he’s black? …Wait, that’s just racist.

I really am bad at this sort of stuff.

“I see,” his voice drew me from my thoughts, “but can the answer be that simple?”

At this point, I’m not sure whether to be scared of what he might do or politely wait for a proper response.

After gathering my courage, I turned my head towards him…but that was a terrible mistake as he already turned around and…the rest if easy to figure out.

I plastered a hoof on my muzzle and suppressed a girly *Eek*.

The giant slightly tilted his head, and his expression, which is a rigid scowl, is not providing any hints of what’s he’s thinking.

In one second I’m forced to raise my head to look at him, and in the next, he falls to his knees with the enough force to shake the ground beneath me. I almost stumbled down, but managed to spread my legs apart and kept a stable balance.

I was able to manage because it lasted around two seconds, but it did leave my heart beating faster.

With shaky hooves, I corrected my posture and told myself, Don’t ever piss a giant! …Ever!

“Does this fare better?”

“Huh?” I just noticed that there’s still a foot of height difference, but that means less strain on my neck.

“Does this fare better?” He repeated in a monotone.

“Oh, um, yes.” You still look intimidating though.

He scratches his chin, “Do you think wearing a mask will make me appear less intimidating?”

That question froze me in place, W-What? Are ponies suddenly mind-readers. …N-No, t-that’s just ridiculous. I’m the one who said it out-loud. That h-had to be it. This situation of mine is just aggravating, I really hope it’s a thing that will go away soon. I…I don’t want to anger someone on accident.

“Miss, you okay?” It’s the first hint of concern I hear from him.

“M-Miss?” Does it really matter? I asked myself, It’s not like I will see him again later. “Um, sorry. What was the question again?”

It didn’t even take him a second to repeat “Do you think wearing a mask will make me appear less intimidating?”

“…less…intimidating…with a mask?” I don’t know why, but the thought of him wearing a hockey mask came into mind. Which I regretted as a shiver ran from the neck, to all down my spine.

Giant tilted his head again, “Do you want me to console you?”

“W-What!? What kind of perverted question is that?” I did it again! This time I was aware I did it.

The second question did get a reaction from the giant: a blush. “I’m offering it from the kindness of my heart. I promise there’s no aberrant intent.”

“N-No. I-It’s okay.” I took a conscious step back. “It’s nothing really. I just that the thought of you wearing a mask scared me.” I also made a conscious effort to shut my mouth, Oh God, if this continues, please kill me.

The neutrality in his face returns, “What do you suggest I might do?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“I tried everything to not startle or frighten the visitors. I stood beside the door without producing a sound and then formally introduce myself. Other times I stood in front of the entrance and greet them before introducing them to Blackwood’s Haven. There were also a few occasions where I followed them silently after they entered, only then present myself after they seen the first artifact. So that’s my predicament so far. Do you know of any other method that could work as intended?”

Shocked. I never thought I experience the same emotion twice in a day, especially so soon. “D-Did you seriously do all that?” He nods, “B-But that’s crazy. Why w-would you do that?”

“Wilds Hue, assistant of Mr. Wood’s assistant suggested so.”

“Oh,” my ears flopped onto my skull. Yeah…she looks like the type to do something like that.

“Are you acquainted with her?” Had I spoken out loud this time, I’m sure he would’ve asked why I said that. I was rude after all.

I forced a small smile, “Something like that. I…met her on the hallway.”

“Good. Then she’s still hasn’t lost hope on this town.”

My ears perked up, “Then you s-seen it too?”

He nods, “Blackwood may just be in its darkest hour, but all of us maintained a fragment of hope in the village saved us.”

“You mean…what do you mean by that?”
“…” His expression remains unreadable, “Would you care to see the exhibit first before I answer?” Something about his tone, however, sounded off. But I’m not sure what it is.

Hesitant, maybe?

I shifted on my hooves uncomfortably as he kept that massive gaze on me. “Um, o-okay.” I moved my attention elsewhere, and tried not to focus it on the floor. Some seconds past and I noticed I haven’t moved.

With a hurried pace, I rushed over to the first display on the nearest wall.

(Third POV)

As the dark coated pony rushes to the first stand he sees, Giant watches him go with a natural glare.

Faith has the power to spread hope as it has to give ponies something to cling to. His eyes closed as he somberly added even as the world around you crumbles. Once he opens them, his gaze lands on a particular glass case on the wall. But belief is the willpower to move as the new dawn arises. A piece I believed I lost.

You once said that faith and belief will bring destruction if confused, and forcing either onto somepony will brand it as questionable or wrong on their eyes. But by stepping aside, and letting them judge with their own eyes instead by our opinions, we can see how they truly react by our culture. …Those were your exact words Mr. Dawn, and we’re clinging on to them. You may not be in our world anymore, but we will keep your teachings and your son alive.

(??? POV)

Well, might as well do what I said I would.

There’s another pedestal in front of me – rectangular and made of rock with a sand color. The item inside the glass case is a…peculiar knife. It’s blade curves perfectly near the end, and the handle is a deep dark that could just blend in with shadows. I know nothing about proper craftsmanship, but even I can say this was done by a professional.

“Wolf Sprite,” I held myself from jumping, but ended up stiff as rock because of it, and the female’s voice – more of a lady’s than anything with a tone of sophistication – continued without interruption, “it took a month to properly forge to reach its level of perfection. And once accomplished, its purpose was for self-defense when its master was faced against unexpected odds.”

Before turning to face her, I shifted my eyes around nervously. Considering how I met someone of Giant’s…stature, and Wild’s personality, it might be a bad idea to face someone who spoke to me first. On the other hand-hoof, she might actually be a nice pony.

After swallowing my worries, I turned to finally greet her.

My first impression of her is…she isn’t scary…by much at least.

We’re around the same height. Her coat is a navy blue, eyes a dark brown and wears indigo glasses without the top frame on the lenses. Her mane, mostly black with brown highlights is pulled back into a braid that reaches over her shoulder. And thanks that she’s standing at an angle instead of straight – I don’t have to bend my head to see her cutie mark – an open notebook with a quill about to make its mark.

“My name is Sharp Quill. I’m Mr. Woods’ personal assistant, but since today is our annual flyers event, all able-bodied ponies are gone to make…preparations.”

I didn’t think much of the pause she did, but instead I asked the obvious, “If you’re the mayor’s assistant, then why aren’t you…like, supervising the…preparations?”

“Valid question. But remember, I said able-bodied, and supervising falls short as a necessity when the staff are not depended over rudimentary guidance.”

“Oh,” I forced a smile in the best of my abilities, “I-I see, sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be. As I said before, valid question.” Ms. Quill turned her attention to the display I was watching, “What do your thoughts about it?”

I quickly spun back to the item, already trying to find the right words without sounding like an idiot, “Well, it l-looks really great. I mean, it looks like it was made by a professional-”

“Not of its design, but the meaning behind it.”

I blinked and shifted my eyes at her, “I-I don’t understand.”

She met my gaze a moment later, “What do you think it represents?”

I blinked once more and returned to the knife, “…It’s…for thievery.”

“Anything else?”

“…for protection. W-Whoever made, needed to be p-protected. Right?”

“Correct, but there’s still more to it.”

Confused, I turned to her again, “But what else is there?”

Her gaze, however, is on the item of the discussion, “Inspect Wolf Sprite again.”

Questions are forming inside my throat, but held them in as I thought she would want me to find the answer myself. If that wasn’t the case, she would’ve said something else.

Looking at the Wolf Sprite, but really trying to find its meaning, I can tell that…it looks the same as when I saw it the first and second time. The blade has a polished shine to it, clean would be the right word for it. The cross guard and the handle look in perfect conditions too.

“It’s quite perfect. Is it not?” Sharp voiced my exact thoughts.

“It is perfect.”

“Too perfect in fact.” My eyebrows furrowed just slightly. “A weapon that’s seen struggle would have marks of combat, and a blade that’s been stained with blood wouldn’t have an innocent splendor.”

She…is right. Everything about it is new, like, if it’s never been used once.

“Now that you learned all there’s to know about the knife itself, what does that mean for the owner?”

I furrowed my brows completely. If what she said is true, that would mean… “Whoever made this…wanted to be protected, but…never used it…” I took my time to form the right words, “…so he just…” my concentration crumbled as no answer came. “actually, I don’t know what it meant for the owner.” Come on! I should be able to solve this one. It’s probably something simple.

“You were right twice. In fact, the second time was your first answer.”

I turned my head at her, more confused than surprised.

What did surprise, are the corners of her lips pulled so slightly I almost didn’t notice them, but I did because it’s the same ghost of a smile my brother gives me. “It was used for protection. Regardless if it’s a knife, a weapon is a weapon. And weapons are respected as they’re feared.”

What she said makes sense. Sort of.

Which is why I’m glad she noticed my confusion, “Wolf Sprite was used for thievery and protection as you said, but not once did it ever afflict a single wound.”

“So…it was used more for…show.” Then the unbelievable happened, she nods. “T-That means I got it right!?” Her smile became more apparent before she nods again…and, so did mine – only that my smile must’ve come out crock it or something because she chuckled.

“In Blackwood, only two laws exist, but nopony can’t break them – no matter who it is.” She kept her smile, but her low tone made me lose mine. “We do tend to be lenient on visitors, but just slightly, and we make them aware that was their final warning.”

I’m seriously beginning to wonder if something is wrong with this world, because smiling and talking about serious (and potentially life-and-death) things seems unnatural.

“I want to ask you. What rules does your settlement follow?”

I stood still. The nervous feeling returned and growing into a fear I loathed. W-What am I supposed to do? Even my thoughts began to falter. S-So what should I do. A lie? No. My poker face is…its sad. And even if I pull it off, what would I say? It’s not like I know what the common laws of this world are.

A cold trail ran from my forehead down onto my nose – a little too visible in my opinion.
I got out of my thoughts long enough to see her smile gone, replaced by a thoughtful gaze. “You’re not from Animus are you?”

And I gulped. With nothing to defend myself, I spoke the truth, “I…I’m not from around Animus. I-My home i-is very far away.” Technically the truth. I rather not have ponies think I’m crazy.

I held my breath, not daring to say something I might regret. And it didn’t help that she stayed quiet as well.

Soon, I began to hear the idle conversation from the other ponies. Too many to pay attention, and too nervous to even try.

“You’re quite the brave soul to venture this deep into Animus.” I blinked, whether it should be from fear or confusion is something I’m about to hear. “I wish you luck in whatever business you have on this land.”

And with that, she turns and trots towards some ponies examining another piece of history.

I was held in place by…by…By what? Fear? Relieve? Wariness finally getting to me? No matter what it is, it abandoned me. Letting me release a heavy breath that made my slouch forward.

That was…that was something I don’t want to repeat. Ever!

I was able to elude danger, but my mind was already thinking of the consequences had it ended differently. She…would’ve found out I was human, or at least not a normal pony. I would have been kicked out of town and into the mercy of the sun. Or maybe I would have made a run for it while chased by those guards. The image Giant chasing me as a predator is going to give me nightmares in the future.

“…” *Sigh* Well, it could’ve gone worse. Much worse. But, I’m still safe. …That’s right, I’m still alive, so what if maybe, just maybe, I risked forming a small smile, not knowing for how long I keep it, my luck is beginning to turn. My smile faltered for a second…Hopefully I didn’t jinx it.

(Third POV)

After straightening his posture, and relaxing his muscles with a slow breath, he turns around and paces towards another display.

His smile – although crocked on its foundations – is strong as his problems are momentarily forgotten.

So as he prepares to inspect another piece of history, he’s unaware of a pair of yellow hooves approaching his last spot.

They stop near a torn piece of golden parchment, only to pick it up and examine the other side where lay the words:

Just know I’m a huge fan,

and I wish you luck in tomorrow’s race.

“…so,” the voice resembles that of a young girl, “He had the third piece. Guess I made the right decision in coming again.”

Normality is Overrated - Yellow Flash

(??? POV)

The hairs on my neck stood up as a foreboding sense took over. I don’t have that sixth sense were I know when I’m in danger, but I do have something similar. It’s called: the ability to know when someone is paying attention to me. What’s the difference? Someone has their eyes on me, and I don’t know if it’s good or just idle curiosity – noticed how I didn’t say good?

I scratched the back of my neck and slowly, with much trepidation, turned my head to the left. The blue door on the far wall, some ponies checking class cases attached to the walls with a strange artifact inside, and there’s still the pedestal with the empty glass case inside. Turning to the other side is the same thing - minus the door and pedestal.

Everything looks…safe.

Maybe I’m…imagining things. It has been a day with too many emotions. ...Yeah, there’s no other way to describe it.

Leaving the sense of dread to worries seems right. After all, if I had such an abnormal day - even without the pony part -, I would have gone straight to bed to forget everything that happened. But that’s something I can’t do for...I fought back the sigh, and decided to forget where that statement was going.

I lowered my hoof down and focused back on the glass case in front of me. Inside is a steel mask with an oval shape, but there’s something different about this one. It has one of those rectangular labels with the words “Embrace the sins by forging a better future.”

…I don’t know why it says this, but at least I understand what it means. It was also the only one to have a label.

The others ones were…neat, I suppose. One of them was a kind of stone thing; it was shaped like a strange sun, even the paint on it looked worn out. The orange-red in the center, and the yellow, unmoving flames look worn-out and dark. Then there was this pendant with a ruby at the end...but this one I can say it’s peculiar, because around the ruby is a clear layer of diamond. It looks like if...it grew naturally.

The other artifacts were weapons like the first I saw; they also were strange in the sense, but that’s just it, they were weapons. Except for the pendant, the sun-stone thing and this mask.

I tried thinking of why, just because it was feeling like a test. A test where I’m not graded. The thought almost made me smile...had the feeling of probing eyes not come back. I stood still and held the need to look at the sides. Okay mind, stop worrying and relax. Nothing will happen here. It’s safe! …I think.

Enough of that! I shouted to myself, more of a mental argument than anything, This is a museum, what’s the worst that can happen?

That didn’t help, however. I began feeling uncomfortable and shifted my weight around.
Please, let this be my wariness finally getting to me.

I wanted my logic to be right for once…but it looks like I can’t even have that. So I risked it and glanced at the sides, but didn’t see a pony that would be acting strange or anything.

Alright, relax. This could be paranoia. That would be a first actually-but that’s not the point here! So, yeah, paranoia. I’m in a world filled with magical ponies and whatever else is out there, sooner or later I would have start losing my mind. So why not now?

Then a second voice in my mind spoke, “But what if someone is looking at us, judging us as the strangers we are.” As much as I hate to admit it, that voice has an argument.

What’s worse, I had no way of knowing who is-Wait. I do have that little trick.

I remembered something. A memory actually – a boring one at that.

It was during my brother’s tenth birthday. It was just like the others: filled with laughter, innocent smiles and big brother being the center of attention. It was a fun, social gathering after all, and me? I was inside the living room, watching tv while the party was outside in the front yard.

I could have been outside…sitting on one of those plastic chairs like the last five birthdays…just watching…anyways, it’s the thing I did afterwards that’s important.

Once I got bored of watching television, I got up and headed for the stairs. As I did, I passed by the main doors – dark oak with systematic flower carvings on both sides, and a window on each that were polished with such a clarity, that I’m having trouble believing the glass is even there – that were open at the time. It wasn’t a wild guess when I say it was probably the butler – a young man by the name of Winston - who left it open, so he could come in and out with refreshments and snacks in both hands.

I tried forgetting there was a party outside. Why listen to it if I’m not a part of it, I told myself. I hadn’t made it halfway through the forty-two-step staircase – yes, I counted them – when I heard them talking close to the doorway.

In normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have been able to listen with the other voices also flowing in, but I did, because it’s always the same line whenever people see me with big brother.
“Hey, do you know who he is?”

“I don’t know? Do you know?”

I stopped for a second before continuing, but that fueled their curiosity.

“Did ***** invite him?”

“I don’t know, but why is she in there? Won’t his parents get mad?”

Thinking back on it, it’s pretty funny the way children speak, so simple and so innocent.

A small pain shot through my head as something tried to come to mind. Something important…like…like…a name?

It felt odd to think of something like that as important; I ended up shrugging it off.

Anyway, back to what’s important. I learned an important lesson on that day, and that’s: people talk about you behind your back.

…It could be very risky, but I could finally find out if it’s really paranoia or not.

Somehow, finding out that I gone a bit crazy is better than finding out that I might be in danger.

Without further delay, I turned and took the first step towards the only door in my room. I stiffened my ears so they wouldn’t perk up – can’t let the one who’s watching (if someone is) know I’m trying to find him.

“-a while back.”

“-how’s your stay?”

“-his here I-”

“-is this-”

Listening to so many voices is a pain, but I only need to hear those key words – ‘black coat’, ‘white mane’ or ‘who is she’ – and the suspicions I fear the most will come true.

I kept a casual pace, and for the most part I think it’s working.

My stop came quicker than I wanted, because I was one step away from colliding with the door.

Huh? T-That was quick. Only now I noticed how fast my heartbeat is going, but that’s just the tension I imagined.

So, this is going to be a bit silly, but I guess I can turn around and just…watch the remaining artifacts. At least no one is watching me.

I lifted one hoof, but settled it down afterwards. My eyes went wide as my thoughts went blank. I stood motionless while something pulsed inside my head.

I wanted to be scared. …Scared of what though? The unknown? This world? Ponies? No, I know what I wanted to be scared of, but I rather not want to, yet…it feels right for some reason.

But, why should I be scared of-

I winced as I lowered my head after a painful throb.

As I turned around, I smiled, and I do mean normal, relaxed, small (probably a bit too small), and above all, genuine smile.

However, it didn’t last once I completely turned.

For a brief instant, I saw the pony in my line of sight glance at me.

It couldn’t have been accidental. It was too quick for it to be, and those eyes, I felt how they inspected my body in that moment. Like if I was some sort of study material.

It was even worse with how unnatural they looked. Heavy, judgmental with no hesitation to show, and like the idiot I’m, I stood there.

It didn’t take long for the pony to focus back on me. Only this time her eyes didn’t leave me.
I did the only thing I could in this position. *Gulp*

I pressed a hoof against my forehead, already feeling the pressure alleviating incoming headache. Why does it hurt-wait! It’s gone.

It was instantaneous, like if was never there. I don’t know if I like to have more of those...Things, if it’s just going to hurt like that.

I put my hoof down and wondered of all the similar things I saw, First that lightning thing that nearly killed me, then I saw Mr. Woods say the same things twice, and now I-

I didn’t finish, mostly because I couldn’t. I couldn’t see them, but those eyes are boring onto the back of my head right now.

It is like if it’s trying to crush me with some invisible pressure.

Then I realized the idiotic mistake I did, twice if I count the vision. I stood still for too many seconds.

…I really am an idiot.

Taking responsibility of my actions, I did the only thing that came to my mind.

Raise a hoof, grab doorknob, turn, pull, walk, close door and sprint.

I was already panting at the start, and my heartbeat began pounding louder after every step. Logic was overtaken by instinct, already ordered my hooves to take me far away from…from her. Not caring how sore the muscles will be after this.

I made it halfway towards the exit/entry before the ground shook on its own. I tried stopping, but the vibrations made me stumble all the way to the wall.

It was more like if I was pushed onto it actually; I leaned on it the best I could until the…earthquake? No, not earthquakes…tremors?

It feels more to that of a heavy object crashing down, only to be followed by another one a second later.

It stopped as abrupt as it started, and I didn’t waste precious seconds like before, but I also didn’t wait to regain a sense of balance.

I sprinted again, nearly tripping on my hooves a few times. It was like I had no idea how to walk on four legs.

When the distance between me and open-air became mere feet, I extended my hoof to the handle, and that’s when I actually tripped – with the floor clean and no objects littered around, or even a slippery floor for me to direct the blame.

My vision fell downwards. The floor approaching dangerously close.

Acting on the moment, I turned my head and moved my other hoof under it.

*Crash*

It wasn’t the softest thing to land my head on, but it hurt less than I thought – that may have been adrenaline talking though.

I ignored the pain and stood up, rushed the next few steps and grabbed the handle.

After I pushed it down, I should’ve run from there, but…curiosity ended up betraying me.

I turned to see how much I should be scared by the distance between us.

It’s a good sign that she stood on the hallway, just outside the partly opened door, but the advantage I had didn’t seem to matter when our eyes locked.

The fear I experienced isn’t the same as when I was near Nightmare Moon. How could I forget? The cold void that grew from my chest, seeking the warmth and (the little) hope I had, only to drain it faster than I could hold onto it. I felt empty, like I never experienced a single emotion.

This fear right now is…judgmental. As if piercing into my soul the moment our eyes met. The confidence I had crumbled as I wondered what lengths this girl will go to catch me.

Without looking back, she wraps the end of her tail around the doorknob and closes it with a pull.

The click of it closing filled the silent hallway and snapped me from my trance.

I pushed the door open and made a run for it.

(Third POV)

Even as the door burst open, only a pair or two of eyes glanced as the outlander sped out of Tribe Conjunction.

Nopony paid heed to the pony’s wobbled dash. He nearly collided into someone - earning him a short glare - as he swayed to the sides.

His mind, though running faster with adrenaline, didn’t consider which side to take.

As his hooves realigned themselves instead of stepping near the other one, he already turned left. Unknowingly heading deeper into the town.

A mishmash of curly, tangled, and straight bangs swayed over his eyes, nearly blocking his vision.

At this point, the wooden door to Joint Conjunction is about to close, until a different figure tackled it open. The pony lands on all fours and inspects her surroundings. Spotting the black coat and snow-colored mane was easy enough; her navy blue eyes narrow before she breaks into a gallop.

Already she began gaining on her target, and few ponies got in her way as she made a beeline attempt. She did, however, recognize one or two odd glances, but quickly dismissed the notion of anyone stopping her.

After all, what harm can someone like me do to a grown mare? That thought drew a smile from her stern expression.

As she kept her eyes forward, she noticed something useful.

Her target passed it: a simple looking cart with being pulled by a stallion. He may have been doing it to give samples of the food store he’s working for, but that doesn’t matter to her. What matters is the fabric positioned on top thanks to two wooden supports in each side.

This will do. Measuring the distance between herself and the stallion is twenty hoof-length and ten inches plus eight centimeter. Not the longest distance she was forced to jump; one that’s also shrinking.

In a beat, her hooves left the ground. She sailed in the air for a moment with her hind legs ready, landing both back hooves on the stallion’s head and makes a short leap towards the fabric.

The stallion, on the other hoof, was irritated for a very good reason. He was used as a stepping stone; that for him is an insult. Had she weighed more, he would have unhinged himself to rush towards the filly and give her a piece of his mind, but he has a job to do, which he’s not going to lose for something he can just brush off – so to speak.

It wasn’t complicated for her to position all four hooves on the fabric, then using as a mini-trampoline just as she wanted.

She already passed him, and is about to land with the intent to trip the suspect down with a hoof, then allow gravity do its work.

That’s what she would have done had not a pony, carrying a barrel full of water on his back, trotted on the exact landing spot as he whistled without a care in the world.

Seeing this, only two words could properly explain how she’s feeling, Gaia dammit!

The barrel shakes after an outside force dives in, breaking the equilibrium and forcing the stallion to stop and shift around to counter the vibration. While this happened, water splashed around in random amounts, but when the barrel shook to a certain side, it threw a fistful of water to a pony who was about to run headfirst into the stallion.

With reflexes of a scared kitty, he shrieks before sprinting to the side for an alleyway.

Soon after, two yellow hooves shot out of the barrel’s water and latch onto the rim. The pony inside hurls herself out, landing soaked and mane damped.

The stallion found the equilibrium shortly after. He smiled in relief, which ended as he turned to give the pony an earful, “For Heaven’s sake. You got any idea who this water is for?”

He arched an eyebrow as he noticed her attention is focused on something to the side. He didn’t bother to look however, for the focus of his ire is right in front of him. So he failed to see the black coated pony already halfway through the alley. He failed to see how the pony looked back and locked eyes with his pursuer once more. What he did see is how the pony in front of him breaks into a full gallop.

“H-Hey!” One rushed step is all it took for the barrel to topple over. He winced as the contents spilled over the grass. Anger gave way to fear as he spied his package from the corner of his eye, “…Maybe I can order more if I hurry back.”

Back on the chase, the ‘runaway’ pony is about to exit the alleyway after his pursuer already entered. He turned his vision in time to see a mare passing too close to the exit.

He stomped his hind hooves in the ground while trying to back-peddle with the front ones. Had he done it a second later, he could have crashed into the wide-eyed mare who realized the danger she trotted into.

Her yellow wings flared up as she raised a foreleg in reflex. *Eep!* She tried keeping her voice calm as her body tensed, but seeing the panicked look on the other mare, made her forget her own fears. “Oh, um, are you-”

She never finished. The mare looks behind, and after a quick gasp, he rushes past the pony. Her soft push made the pegasus yelp in surprise, and leaving her confused as she watched her head down the street.

That quickly changed to concern as she’s left pondering on what happened, “I-I hope I didn’t scare her.” She cowered behind her pink mane and lowered her gaze, “If the girls find out, what am I supposed to tell them?”

Lost in thought, the brushing of cold fur elicited another *Eep*. This time she leaped to the air, her wings beating and keeping her steady despite the suddenness.

This earned more than a few stares, nearly every pony – except for the fillies and colts – in the street stopped to give Fluttershy a puzzling stare.

She in return, gave them all a meek smile. Her mouth open to say an apology, but died in her throat as more ponies seemed to join.

Her smile deflated as she slowly drifted into the alley behind her.

With her view completely gone, two stallions – one wearing a hat and the other a fedora.

The one with the hat – and a cutie mark of an open door with bits flowing out – tipped the front up, “Was that one of the elements of harmony I been hearing about? She looked too soft to belong with The Arcwinds.”

The fedora stallion – with a cutie mark of a knife with a sharp edge – doesn’t move his gaze, “…What we just seen, is an authentic Equestrian. Let’s pray no trouble ensues because of their presence.”

What they didn’t see, because it wasn’t as important as a startled Bearer of Harmony, is the pony with the wet mane and fur that startled her in the first place. Shortly after she brushed against the pegasus, she stood still. Facing the side in which the black mare took.

The problem at the moment is that her suspect is nowhere in sight, and the two opposite colors weren’t exactly easy to miss.

…One of two things happened. The mare entered one of the adjacent alleys. It couldn’t have been from the other side. She didn’t have time to run to the other side without me noticing. A small scowl made way to her features, In the case that’s true, I wasted enough time for her to escape, but that’s if I’m not right about the second option.

She shifts her attention between the ponies walking out from the two buildings ahead of her.
The one near her walked out a local mare; she could tell because of the scarf she sported.
On the other building, a presumable couple walk out, but both sport confused looks. They even glance back and share a look.

The sight is a pleasant one for her; it’s enough to draw a small smile, That’s where you are hiding.

(??? POV)

*Pant* *Pant* *Pant* *Pant*

Physical exercise and me…don’t get along. It’s not that exercise is bad; it’s me.

I rested my head over my forelegs, which rested on a round wooden table at the corner – away as possible from wondering eyes – that is next to the long wide window of the restaurant.

A restaurant might not be the best of places to hide, but I desperately needed to sit down.

My hind legs are aching, and I can’t move them without burning in pain. The sweat hardly bothered me, and it’s not like it will show much against my dark fur. What will it do, make it darker?

Minor issues are nonexistent for me at this point, I-I hope I lost her.

My ear twitched at the noise of heavy wood grinding against the floor, but that means one thing: somebody took a seat in front of me.

What kind of man…well, stallion, is it this time? It isn’t the first time somebody sat in front of me because of…reasons.

I raised my head, slow and easy, as my back protested. I gave the pony in front a tired gaze as the image started to become clearer.

The moment yellow became the dominant color, pain became the last thing in my mind. I straightened my back, and directed my full attention towards her!

The pony, in appearance, didn’t look remotely intimidating. She’s about half my size; her coat is yellow and her short, white mane - but now that I notice it’s a little wet - with a gray streak in the front.

It’s definitely her; the one who chased me all the way here. As I said, her appearance isn’t what scared, but her eyes. They are definitely older, sharp too, nothing like a child’s should be.

I felt a sweat roll from my forehead, down to my cheek. Only to end hanging on the bottom before dropping completely. For a moment I wondered if that was from the exercise I just did, but her scrutinizing gaze is making me feel smaller than her.

“Are you two here to order or…”

I turned to the left, and standing next to our table, is a pony with a maid outfit with a tray perfectly balanced on top. She’s got that curious look, combined with the outfit, I’m tempted to say she’s cute.

“Onii-chan wanted to come here.” For the next few seconds, I was too stunned to move. I could hardly believe where that voice just came from, but when I recovered, I wondered if my eyes are playing tricks on me the moment I saw her adorable pout.

The cuteness factor grew stronger as she crossed her forelegs high above her chest. Almost as if she’s trying it for the first time. “I didn’t wanna come here, but noooo. He kept saying something or the other of a mystery fruit juice. I’m so telling mom and dad after this.”

My jaw went slack and my thoughts numb as I tried to process this. This thing that looks like a little girl, scared me – not in the same level as Nightmare Moon – the enough to run for my life, is now playing innocent.

It didn’t take longer for my mind to function again, This is why I never leave the house, bad stuff always happens to me.

“Oh, I see!” I tensed at hearing those words, but I could hear my heart sink when I turned to see the maid’s smile, “I will be right back with your special order, mam.”

W-Wait, don’t leave me alone with this…this thing! That’s what I wanted to say, but apparently I lost my voice some time ago. Also, when I opened my mouth with nothing coming out, she giggled in such a cute manner that made me blush.

That was the last thing from her as she turned and went to get my ‘special order’.

It didn’t take long for those eyes to bore onto me again. I wanted to run again and find a hole to hide into, but if she found me after I had a head start, I don’t know what she do to me now that we’re this close.

It’s a bad idea, but very slowly, I turned to meet her gaze. When I did, I pushed myself onto the chair, every little centimeter between us counts.

Her childish pout is gone, and arms crossed but on the table, “So,” her voice does sound like a kid’s though, “I don’t know what your game is, but one way or another. You will tell me why you had this with you.”

She lifted a hoof, and at the base is the same piece of paper I was forced to carry, only darker…and wet.

Did…it get in the water? “T-That…that…I picked it up on accident.”

Her demeanor didn’t change, but she did put her hoof down, “…Let me get this straight. You picked it up, and dropped it in a place full of ponies that would eventually find it.” She glared at me, as if daring me to answer, “Tell me, what part of that doesn’t sound suspicious to you?”

I lowered my head, blocking most of the view with my tangled bangs, That…does sound suspicious. “I-I promise. I’m not lying. I-I just picked it up, p-please believe me!”

That last part may have come out stronger than what I wanted, even so, I don’t think it was strong enough to attract attention. That’s what I last need at the moment. Once again I’m reminded of how I’m the alien here, an outsider, an…outlander as Wild’s said.

So why…why would anyone help a nobody like me.

“…What’s your name.” I blinked, I just noticed the tears in the corners of my eyes.

I wiped those off while honestly replying, “I-I don’t remember.”

Once I put my hoof down, I dared take a peek. Those judgmental eyes are still there, but not much change, “why don’t you have a cutie mark.”

Again, it’s not a question, but more like an order, “I-I don’t know.” I wonder if she’s getting tired of hearing the same thing over and over…I sure would.

“What do you remember then.”

By the sound of it, I’m stepping on the thin line between a harsh glare or a punch, “I…remember…” this is one of those times where my gut tells me something bad will happen to me if I answer, but it’s also telling me something bad will happen if I don’t answer. It’s really one of those lose-lose situations. “…I remember waking up in Lo-Sunshine Forest.”

I know what I said before, but I rather not give her a reason to get…violent. We might be in public right now, but I can’t stay here forever, and she could use her appearance as a weapon to get me kicked out.

I can almost see it really. She could start screaming of where are her parents, and why can’t she see them. Questions would be brought, and everypony will side with the one that looks like a sweet little kid.

“…Is that true?”

Her voice sounded odd, a little uneven. I took another peek, but what I saw kept me from moving them away.

“If what you say is true,” her grin kept twitching, every time moving a little bit higher, “then you are somepony I want to spend time knowing.” The excitement in her eyes is clear as day, she even leans forward and with a mirth in her tone she says “Up to the last detail.”

…Good stuff is supposed to happen when you’re honest. That’s how the world congratulates you, so when this kind of stuff happens to me, I can only blame myself for trying.