In The Land of The Fuzzy Wuzzies

by Regina Wright

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 4936

For all the classes Horace Mount could have taken at college, he wouldn't have know that it should have been linguistics. HiE

If humans had a special mark that appeared on any part of their body proclaiming their special talent, Horace's would have been on his tongue. If there was anything he was good at, it was talking himself in and out of situations but with his current (and possibly permanent) stay in Equestria, he's been fighting a battle with the local language barrier.

Turning mute is looking really nice right about now.

AN/ I wrote this to get myself out a writer's block. I just thought you should know that.

Published 2015-04-18 18:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-21 06:32:22 UTC

Chapter One

I pinched my nose as I shifted uneasy in the Canterlot Castle main hall. The one that's just about a rock's throw from the throne room. I assumed Princess Celestia was there, holding court, but she could be anywhere this time of day. It was important that I'd be around her vicinity whenever I did these things. It made my unsuspecting audience somewhat calmer to my presence.

Scores of multicolored visitors went about, walking left or right and heading to court hearings or arrangements that require the approval of ponies I couldn't be bothered to remember.

I mean, would like to remember.

I do in fact, remember the names of each and every one of the cabinet members that make up Princess Celestia's government thing and the nobles who sponsored them. But I dislike them on principle. Mostly because they use me as their current measuring device in their on-going better than contest. Everyone knows how it goes; you have a car and the other guy has to get two cars. You have an apartment and the other guy has to get a penthouse. You have a bipedal humanoid thing in Canterlot, they have a minotaur who shaves. And so on and so on.

A few ponies slowed in their steps as they always do. Glancing at me and the things left around my designated chair and sign. I can't resist a groan. They smiled at the sound, somehow unable to comprehend I'm not trying to be... friendly.

There aren't any kids around today so I don't expect anyone to feel brave enough to get up and close. All of these ponies and the occasional griffon have more things on their plate than to care about a wayward human. Even if I was the only one who knew that and the only one could pronounce that properly.

A trio of mares squealed, bumping each other as I caught their attention. My stomach rolled. They were too far for me to make out their conversation but I got a amusing sight. They dragged their third member, a mint colored unicorn, away when she declared some idea and tried to gallop in my direction. Her garbled pleas to meet with me was kinda... Embarrassing.

My stomach gurgled as I made out her words.

“Hors- Hor! I wanna meet with Hors- Bon Bon, help me! What do you mean, I'm making a ruckus? I just wanna hold-”

I closed my eyes. Her voice rising as the guards got involved. Arch Helm and Tin Star wouldn't be too rough on her. The familiar sounds of their clanging metal and hooves clawing at the marble floor. I ducked my head, looking away as I felt a promised headache rise. I chose to come here for a reason.

Public shame.

“My name is Horace.” I said, opening my eyes and staring a mirror affixed to the opposite wall.

There I was. A eighteen year old idiot currently stuck in a magical land of ponies. I imagined if a scientist, a soldier or a diplomat got sent to this Equestria, they would have been so much better at it than me. I hoped the Equestrians don't see me as the standard for all humans. I also kinda hoped, they didn't see me as human because this was...

“My name is Horsey.” The translator bleated.

“Horace.” I corrected, wiggling my nose at the perky imitation of my voice. I wished that I could do something about that tone. I've never sounded so pleasant and playful in my life. Unfortunately for me, the translator seemed to have two tones. Plucky and melodramatic.

“Horsey.”

“Horace.”

A group of ponies giggled, playing along and pronouncing my supposed name. They cooed and waved, the sentiment spreading along the crowd as they all took a few minutes to greet me. I ignored them, waiting for the reply of the translator.

“Hor-SEY.”

The crowd ignited, wearing silly grins and repeating all together in a unholy chorus, “Hello Horsey!” Then walking away as if they'd just seen a cat wiggled out of a cardboard box or a puppy barking for attention. Three months living among these ponies, I have learned a important fact.

Once you're labeled cute, you will always be considered cute.

Now I don't have a problem of being cute or being called cute. I'm also a big fan of sweet, charming, handsome or as my best friend would say, a swell guy who always get them caught by the cops but out of the holding tank within an hour. Let's just say I like loose definitions, heh. But with the ponies, it's a different story. Namely their language which I'm still trying to get the hang of.

All of this would just fine if their definition of 'cute' passed the sanity test.

It shouldn't irritated me as much as it does but it did. It really did. If it wasn't for the guards standing nearby and the fact that this was Canterlot Castle, I have no doubt that I would have been glomped en masse. Among other things, ugh.

I leaned back in my designated chair, sighing loud and hard. Despite what it sounded like, I've made a lot of progress with this translation device a unicorn by the name of Twilight Sparkle cobbled up for me. I only wished I'd made it this far, three long and humiliating months ago.

Unfortunately as my chair and the well-meaning sign next to me proudly proclaimed, 'Horsey, a visitor from a different world. He is a GOOD BOY. Say hello to the GOOD BOY!', I'm not exactly sure if I can do anything about it. I'd like to. So here I am, relying on shame and more shame to power me through this ordeal.

“Horsey.” I muttered, cringing as I said that accursed name.

“Horsey is a good boy.” The translator agreed, choosing to define the name instead of repeating after me. It's really fickle.

“Horsey is a,” I paused, stressing on the next word. “human.”

“Horsey,” The translator stuttered, caught up in its internal magical mechanism as it finally processed what I was trying to say. “knows that it is a good boy.” I swore to god that if this damn thing didn't act right, I'd what? Have a tantrum and prove to these ponies I was exactly what they thought of me? A animal that could do a few tricks. Or worse, a exotic pet that had taken residence in Canterlot?

And here I thought I was getting somewhere.

“Fuck me.”

I shouldn't have said that.

“Pet me, I need love and attention!” And there it was. The wandering hoof of a guard petting the top of my head. I shuddered, annoyed that this translator would distort my words so much that it didn't even sound right. And I shuddered again when I remembered this was exactly how I treated cats back on Earth.

“Do you need a hug?” The guard Arch Helm asked as he looked at me, his fucking hoof resting in my hair.

In his eyes, I imagined that all I was to him was a frightened little bunny needing a rough and tough guard to take me to safety. I've heard him talking to his mates, the fellow guards. About my voice reminding him of soft grunts that a rabbit makes when they're scared. I can't comprehend how my voice, cracking only ten percent of the time, could sound anything like a fucking bunny.

“No.” I moaned, cringing as my thoughts went nowhere good. I'll have to try again tomorrow. I won't be getting anything done like this.

“Maybe.”

“Aw, come here little guy.” Arch Helm scooped me up in his massive fore-hooves and gripped me in a back-twisting hug as he bent me out of the chair. It's a testament to how often I am hugged that I don't reflectively scratch and kick my way out of this meat, oxygen-depriving prison of muscle and fur. I felt his snout nestled in my hair and his gentle murmuring, “Everything will be alright.”

I shuddered again, overwhelmed by this unwanted sweetness and Arch hugged me harder. I didn't think he'd hug me until I pass out. He learned his lesson last time. But I wanted to wrap this up. I forced the words out of my throat, my stomach squeezing as I gave up my single allotment of dignity for the day.

“I feel better, Helm.” I forced out, keeping my voice calm so the translator wouldn't get any creative ideas about what it thought I meant.

“I feel better, Helmie.”

“You sure?” Helm said, pulling back as if he expected me to burst into tears.

“Yeah.” I nodded before I sighed, freeing my arms from my sides and wrapping them around Helm to give a tight, reassuring squeeze. “I know that you mean well. That's why it's hard for me to get upset at you when you don't respect my space. You ponies don't even know how much I dislike being treated a walking, talking teddy bear.”

And of course, this is when the translator decided to switch to melodrama in order to portray my supposed meaning even clearer than before.

“A-huh. I know that you care lots about me. But sometimes it gets very hard for me to show my very special feelings when I need you to care. Ponies just like you don't know how much I DIS-PLIKE pretending a walking, talking teddy bear is treated like me.”

“Did someone say something mean to you? Tell me, I'll teach that bad guy a thing or two.”

Why did it suddenly feel like I was in a after-noon special? Would cameras burst out of the corners? A producer walk up with me and announced I've been punk'd? I'd been volunteered without my knowledge for some crazy reality sitcom where bets were made on when my psyche would snap this week? Why couldn't this be true?

“Nobody said anything. I just want to go up to my room.” I said, shaking my head before I slowly inched myself away from Arch Helm. I tried not to make any sudden moves. Ponies had a very strange reaction to things like that when it came from anything taller then them. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Nopony told me anything, nopony wants to tell me anything. I wanna go up to my favorite place. I want to see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Horsey.” Helm said, slightly distracted with what he's probably thinking about his list of suspects that might have said something mean to me recently. I wished that I could say that it was a short list but it wasn't. Not by a long shot. “I'll see you tomorrow too! Keep a smile on that face, little guy!”

I turned away from him, walking casually for a few steps before breaking on into a jog. I sprinted and swirled around the visitors and the castle staff as I made my way to the main staircase. Taking two stairs at a time, I scaled the first and second flight of stars. I bumped a few maids, skirted by a set of teachers and slid into a corner.

I'd like to say I was only catching my breath but I knew I wouldn't make it to my room in time. I made a fist and bit into it, muffling the frustrated shrieks bubbling in my throat. I fell back against the wall and dropped, using my other hand to yank at my hair.

“I am not Horsey!” I gasped, shouting it over and over as I dropped my face into my hands, curling into a ball. “Don't call me that stupid name! Don't touch me! Don't look at me! I... My name isn't that stupid, stupid name.”

The translation rambled, I didn't bother listening anymore.

“Horace.”

“Horsey.”

“Horace.”

“Hor-SEY.”

“Horsey.”

“Horsey is a very good boy.”

Chapter Two

“Heya, Horsey Mount-Mount! Guess who!”

At the sound of that disgustingly chipper voice, my head hit the wall. Wincing at the pain, I turned to the source. There she was, a young unicorn scribe by the name of Winter Wheel. When all of the other book-types roaming the castle for its intensive library were nice enough to keep their hooves to themselves, she was the one who liked to be hands on. At first, she explained it off as the pure and just need to sate her curiosity but I knew better.

I knew all the ponies that I had to deal with on a daily basis better.

Winter grinned when our eyes met. Her bow-like lips on the verge of popping. In her big gleeful eyes, all I saw was my own sagging frown and the exhaustion caked to my face.

“Oh wait, don't guess who.” She said, crouching forward with her hindquarters perched in the air as if she was considering to pounce me. My eye twitched. I gripped my arm, recalling each and every one of her pounces I had to suffer through whenever she was in need for a 'pick-me-up'.

“We don't need Feather Fine knowing where I am. That overbearing monster has ears everywhere. Just saying his name might make him appear, yuck.” She shuddered, returning to a more neutral stance with her tail dropping to hang between her legs. I felt my eyebrow raise in apprehension. Then beads of sweat. Forming and fleeing one after the other as they ran down the side of my face, screaming that I should run. I swiped them away with the side of my hand while stopping myself from shifting pressure to the front of my feet.

“But I am happy to see you. Didn't. You. Miss. Me? Of course you did, we are the diction henchmares! Book buddies! Explorers lost on the written page, ka-pow. I missed you, Horsey but Finicky Fine wouldn't let up. You set one little containable and extremely reasonable house fire in the Plants and Patents section...” Winter blabbed, ending in a sour-looking pout that melted away into a chip-tooth smile. “What have you been up to, good boy?”

The tip of her tail wagged, warning me that the chance of her pouncing me wasn't out of play.

And so a useless thought came to me. Ponies were like cats. They liked rubbing on each other. Their moods could be determined by their tails. They got in fights over space and had pissing contests over nothing. And most annoyingly, they loved hearing their voices when it came to being around humans. I mean, human. What if I'm just a special case? I just don't give off an aura deserving of a personal bubble.

I forced my mouth to even out. Tried to remind myself that the ponies weren't doing it on purpose.

The whole Horsey Mount-Mount thing.

Wasn't I trying to get to my room a while ago? I need to get back to that.

I got up and stretched, bending left and right before switching to back and fro. The back of my head bumping a few times into the wall made things a little clearer. Simpler. I was in a land of ponies on a magical planet. There are just something you just have to take in perspective. And I've used up a shred of dignity today.

Winter seemed lost in her own world, scoping out both ends of the hallway. I guessed she must have skipped out on her supervisor. Around this hour, she was usually one of the ponies being sent out into the city to pick up lunch orders for the rest of the scribes. Mostly because she wasn't trusted to not snap an ancient tome in half when her attention wavered, the clueless dolt.

And by the way, ponies really like to gossip when they think- Honestly, I don't know what they think when they start talking their problems around me like I'm their... confessional teddy bear... Even the quiet, moody ones like said mentioned supervisor.

I blankly stared at her, watching the mare fiddle with her saddlebag. An awkward silence settling between us like a stale odor in a boxed room. The noise of her contents in her bag shuffling grew louder and louder as I didn't say anything.

I shifted my feet, resolving to stay quiet.

Winter stopped for a few seconds, glancing back at me as if she missed my reply and wanted me to repeat it. She would, wouldn't she? I liked pressing the button of my action figure when I was a kid, hearing the same lines over and over, too. Her eyes dropped to the translator and she made a innocuous-sounding “Hmm.”

She has made that sound around me before. It is the death rattle of betrayal.

To continue my cat-to-pony metaphor, talking to ponies was the equivalent of petting them. Without actually petting them. I'm sure if I held my ground long enough, I'd finally get somewhere with reaching them as a fellow person.

My eyes went to her tail. Entranced as the tip spun lazily in a wide circle before curling tightly. The air grew tense as Winter redrew from her bag. Returning her attention back to me.

I stiffened in response.

Acutely aware of all the exits available to me and the fact that Winter was blocking my only way out. I had to concentrate. I was overreacting like I always do.

But the sight was too bizarre.

As if I was seeing through the bottom of a wine glass, she seemed to grow larger and strange. Her colors inverted. White fur becoming a faded eerie black spilling out onto the floor. Silver mane a lucid green. The unicorn's muzzle extended, mangled fangs gleaming through her tight-lipped maw. Her shadow loomed along the floor, revealing the form of an equine forked-tailed beast as Winter pawed at the ground. The dragging thud of each stroke from her massive paw, echoing against the shrunken walls, became a mad song. A prelude to her eventual charge.

I held my hands to my ears, shaking the crazy out of my skull.

The walls spun. My palms dripped with sweat as I took a step back. Everything seemed to go out of focus as my eyes burned. Without meaning to, I slammed my arm against the wall as a balance as my breath sped up. My legs quaked, eyes searching for a weapon. I shook my head. I have to stand my ground. This couldn't be real. 'Then I should run,' my mind quickly supplied. I shook my head again, forcing myself to stay calm.

Winter wasn't a threat.

My stomach gurgled. Roaring for me to pick an option. Attack before attacked. Flee before flayed. I grabbed at my waist and refused to budge. None of the ponies were a threat but I couldn't help but feel like they were constantly trying to attack me.

I forced my head to look up at her. The specter, that monster, was gone but yet I was still wary. Winter had changed her stance. Resting on her left forehoof as she held her right hoof in the air with her head tilted to the side. The positioning of her body and inquisitive gaze seemed to say, 'What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?' That's what that gesture meant to ponies. I've studied them, watching their reaction to each other.

Winter wasn't being aggressive.

She meant well.

She has to mean well.

Winter couldn't be winding up for an attack.

Her long gray tail flickered, winding and unwinding like a snake readying to strike. Silver-tipped ears perked as Winter squeezed her lips. I averted my gaze, gradually opening my mouth. Flushing, I felt embarrassed and ashamed... I couldn't even begin to imagine what this looked like on her end. She was a friend and here I was, becoming afraid of her.

But before I could get a single syllable out, Winter began crossing over. Casually invading my space. Unconsciously, I started backpedaling. Trying to limit the amount of space in the little crook by squeezing myself into the crack where the walls met.

My knees buckled.

I felt my body try to override my desire to face her head on. It kept on sending images of me dropping to the floor and laying still. Some sort of instinct that if I went motionless, she wouldn't be able to see me and leave. I've already tried that move without realizing it. It never works. My human ancestors weren't dealing with talking, well-meaning animals when they came up with it. If I squatted, she'd only ask why or worse, attempt to pick me up with her teeth.

As my body fought me, Winter made her move. She forced herself into the corner, her knees poking me in the backside as she corralled me out. “What are you doing here all by yourself?” She asked as if she didn't just herded me like a shepherd's dog. The feel of her white coat brushing against my legs sent shivers up and down my spine. Tentatively, I turned and touched Winter's snout as she kept moving me forward. Trying to gain a accurate feel of a pony's coat.

Maybe, this time it would be different.

For a moment, it felt short and fuzzy before it turned coarse and hard. Under my hand, clumps of hair radiated a foul smell as I tried to bear through it. Committing the touch to memory. My tongue went dry as I shuddered. The faint stench of matted fur and death waffling up to my nose as I pushed down my desire to vomit. I removed my hand and started at it, wondering why everything had to be like this. Why did the ponies have to be so... Strange...

“No reason.” I sighed, dignity gone. Whatever the translator came up with, I wouldn't let it raise my blood pressure. Inhale. Exhale. I am as cool as a cucumber. I am as idle as a mile. “What brings you here?”

“No reason, I wanted to be alone.” The translator said, hardly stopping when I smacked myself and groaned. “I didn't think I would see you. Why are you here? You're not supposed to be here.” I dragged my fingers down my face, nails clawing red angry marks.

“Buddy no,” She cooed, still nudging me into the middle of the hallway despite the fact I've now planted my feet to the ground and didn't want to be moved. “Nopony really wants to be alone.”

Oh my god, translator. Why would you do this to me?

“I didn't abandoned you or anything. I was just busy doing boring old filing work in the Canterlot Archives. You wouldn't like it there. It's boring and dusty and the head scribe has a hoof stuck up his as- I mean, his ears with a candlestick.” She paused in her words, snickering to herself before she- “Wanna learn some swears? Can't have the whole Equestrian experience without learning some colorful words?”

“I can curse, fine.”

“I know a lot of naughty words.” The translator said in my stead.

“Oh, do you?” She said, clearly not believing me even without the translator making everything worse. “Then let's start off with something easy. Butt.”

“That's not a curse word.”

“That's not a naughty word.”

“Than what is a naughty word to you, good boy?”

Why do I even bother? “Ass.”

“Buttcheeks! Buttcheeks! Butt-CHEEKS!”

She laughed, her voice reaching a glass-shattering pitch as she guffawed herself blue. I crossed my arms and groaned. I can't get upset. I have to ration my acts of irrational hysteria. If I did it too often, I'd lose my voice despite how unhelpful my voice has been so far.

All I could imagine is that in some distant future if I kept this pattern up, I would turn into a drooling man-child. Shrieking in an animal preserve in a good scenario. Shrieking in a petting zoo in the worse.

Maybe even the Princesses would say a speech over the attending crowd as I tried to chew my leg off, “Man was not fit for our civilization of magical wonders and knowledge even a three year old foal could understand. He deserves to be among his brethren in the wild. The bidding for the very last cuddle shall begin at two thousand and fifty bits which shall go into our newest charity, 'Mental Safety And Rehabilitation Tips For Our Otherworldly And Long-Lost Guests'.”

As Winter kept pushing me along and making me walk, I allowed my mind to wander.

About a week ago, I'd got hit by sudden wave of homesickness. It's not like I hadn't been experiencing it before but it never felt so overpowering before. I used to be so more antsy. I used to count days and actually not care about what I sounded like to the ponies. I'd let them move me whenever they pleased because I knew that it was soon. I'd be gone. Returned. So sure that I would be heading back home any day now with so many stories to tell my friends, my family, anyone who would listen.

The silly tales of trying to communicate with the short horses and their neighing and whinnys. The weird food. The weird creatures and their whole weird world.

I was so full of myself.

To anyone at home, it would sound like a drug-induced dream but it wouldn't matter. All they would have to do is listen. Comprehend. Then speak back to me as a human. As a living, comprehending, smart when necessary, person. As Horace Mount, college kid and regular guy... Regular-ish guy.

I tapped the translator. A blue collar with a silver gem fastened in the middle. It sat securely around my neck, plush and soft. Moving along with me as I turned my neck as I rolled my shoulders.

Officially, the translator was called the UFC, the Universal Friendship Communication device. It served the dual purpose of teaching me the Equestrian language while translating my words back to the listeners. In theory, really. Despite the initial bugs of the translator, the trouble with it mainly being that it only took a word for the translator to start rambling for hours at a time. And the words translated on my end were long, repeating lines of nonsensical words.

It made the whole experience of arriving here feel so surreal. So safe.

Whatever came out on their end engraved itself in the minds of the ponies that watched over me. It made them think of me as adorable. For weeks, I thought ponies typically greeted each other by patting the other heads. Rubbing their bellies whenever the mood struck them. Impromptu snuggling fests in the park were common. Snacks came and went. And kidnappings went unnoticed for the most part. It was awkward for me at first but as they say, 'when in rome, why am I wearing a top hat?'

Twilight Sparkle tinkered with it upon noticing that I did have the mental processing power prowess of maybe three squirrels. I'm being generous here. It was probably only two squirrels.

Okay, maybe one-and-a-half squirrels.

It was around the time I started learning the pattern in the nonsensical string of lines, the particles and hang-on words used to open and close a sentence. What I learned had nothing to do with the modern Equestrian language. Possibly it was a old variant that died out of use but it proved I was capable of using my head. If I could understand a fraction of a sentence, there was no way I couldn't understand the actual sentence.

I imagined that the thought process fueling this upgrade to the translator was, 'Ooh, what if he finally responds to his name? It will be so cute.' Using a gem from a place she called The Tree of Harmony as the conductor of the translating spell to refine it. The UFC was sent to new heights, quickly mastering and determining with accuracy of the words and tone from the ponies.

On my end, it floundered.

While I'm able to understand Equestrians more or less perfectly, the translator can't do the same for me because of how it was made. It has something to do with its obsession with harmonizing everything. Beyond all things, beyond who it was invented for i.e. ME, it wants a harmonious bond to occur between me and the pony I am talking to.

In other words, it got spoiled.

Soaking in the rays of good will and naivety from me hanging around ponies before I became aware of what they actually thought of me. The UFC can and will do anything to make that pony or griffon or dragon to like me enough to form a bond... But it also wants it to come from my end like the good old days and I'll never give it to it. Never. The UFC can read my internal mood and say things I never meant to say aloud or horribly misconstruct but it can never have my spirit.

Winter kept on talking, switching to walking by my side while her tail kept me close. I caught bits and pieces. She chatted about her fellow scribes, the current laws being passed in the courts, and of course her supervisor, Feather Fine. The few members of the castle staff on this floor milled about, hardly sparing a glance. I think I have an idea where she's taking me and seeing my free time dry up before my eyes, I resumed my destiny.

"Horace."

"Horsey."

"Horace."

"Horsey."