Dreams did not matter. Sleep was only blackness, and a time of rest. Dreams had long gone from her mind, and all that existed was the empty, unreachable void that existed in her subconscious when she slept. The dreams of the previous world had vanished, and all that were left were memories. The grey mare awoke and felt the child’s lukewarm body pressed against her, shivering and breathing gently. The fire was gone, and all that remained was a light glow from the leftover coals. The stallion had fallen asleep, his back leaning against the cave wall uncomfortably.

The mare wondered if her child ever dreamt. There was nothing to dream about; there was no childhood joy that existed. All of that had long gone with the other children of the world. The mare lifted herself gently, and walked towards the wood stockpile. It was good, and it was dry when she had collected it. She rekindled the fire slowly, bringing its fragile nature back to life, and felt a warm glow spread over her face as she gently blew into it.

The chilling breeze that had come from the mouth of the cave had stopped now. There was not a glimpse of dull light coming from the entrance’s direction, and the mare wondered if it was raining. As she walked towards the entrance to check, she couldn’t hear anything. There was a dead silence, and then there was a loud crashing and thumping from the cave mouth. She jumped slightly, and could hear the noise continue, a ragged, raspy breath accompanying the noise. She dashed back towards the fire, and grabbed her daughter, whom had barely awakened.

“Mommy… What’s happening?”

The child’s voice was wrought with exhaustion and fear, and the mare thrust her onto her back. She grabbed their saddlebags, and turned around to see a translucent looking creature staring at them from the darkness, its face illuminated by the low firelight. The creature appeared to be a bear, but was colossal in size, and its fur littered with what looked like starlight. She could feel the child’s heartbeat pound against her back, as the two stared up in horror at the beast. Its wild eyes darted about the cave, and it laid eyes on the stallion. He was awake, and seemed to be stunned silent from complete shock. It dove onto him, and grabbed his chest with its teeth, blood splattering everywhere.

“W…what…” The child stammered, her words lodged in her throat.

The mare felt herself blink as the wet, crimson blood splattered onto her face. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. That was the only word in the mare’s mind as she sprinted past the monster and burst through the vines hiding the cave. The stallion’s screams behind her had stopped suddenly, and she found herself spreading her wings, and taking to the air. The child gripped onto her so tightly that it hurt. When she landed, she continued running through the dark woods, trampling any of the underbrush beneath her into a flattened and tattered pulp.

When she stopped, she gasped and coughed and sputtered for breath, seemingly gagging when ash seemed to accompany the air into her lungs. She pulled her child from her back and hugged her. The filly buried herself into her mother’s chest, and sobbed. They had both been splattered with blood, and it had dried and caked itself into their fur and manes. The child hugged and buried herself deeper, and the mare could feel tears forming at the edges of her eyes. A small sob escaped from her throat as she stroked the child’s head.

“M…mommy… the stallion… h…he…”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”

***

They had found a still, small creek in the thick of the woods. The filly cried as the mare cleaned her; the water was practically freezing. It was like some sort of unholy anointing. When the mare had cleaned herself, the two of them began to trot through the woods, keeping clear of trees that had died and were about to fall.

It was the blood. It was the blood that the mare felt dirtying her. No matter what she would do, the blood would cover her hooves until the day that she died. His blood was on her soul, and she had left him to die. There were times in the past that she would have tried to have justified the reasons. He was going to die anyway. But now, it was pointless. This was something that she had given up long ago. His blood was on her hooves. His blood had covered her child’s coat, and had stained her eyes with the cruelty of reality. The child followed her silently, staying at her side, occasionally grabbing her when she felt a twinge of fear.

When they came to the edge of a cliff, the mare stared off into the distance. What appeared to be the ruins of some castle lay about a mile and a half from her vantage point. She felt the child place her hoof onto her foreleg, and stare off with her.

“What is that?” It had been hours since the child had spoken.

“It’s a castle. It’s called the castle of the two sisters.”

The filly narrowed her eyes, squinting to get a better look. “Are we going there?”

The mare shook her head. “No. There might be someone already there.”

“Oh.”

The two continued walking along the cliff, keeping a safe distance from its edge as to not fall off. Smoke was rising from the ruins in the distance, and it merged with the grey cloud.

***

The Everfree was growing darker and deader. A light rain drenched the both of them as they continued onward through the forest. Although she had pressed forward, the mare had not forgotten the stallion that she had left behind. Guilt seemed to be her shadow, and she knew that this death in particular would never leave her. She had seen ponies die before, whether it was of disease, starvation, or being cut apart and then eaten, but this specific death would not erase itself from her mind. When they came upon a large tree with a hole at its trunk, they took a temporary shelter inside. Her daughter, now exhausted, had fallen asleep under her wing, but the mare was wide awake.
He died because of you, her thoughts echoed, You left him to die.

While her daughter slept, the mare let out a small cry, tears falling from her eyes as she lowered her head in utter despair. The town was gone, and so was its food. The cave was gone, and so was its food. The only food they had were what they kept in their saddlebags, and even that wasn’t enough. Their first aid kit was gone. They had even left their mouth cloths behind, and now her daughter seemed to be constantly coughing. As she let herself have a small selfish moment of complete melancholy, she felt her daughter shift under her wing.

“Mommy? What’s wrong mommy?”

The child gently nuzzled her mother, hoping to conjure some response from her. Using her free wing, the mare wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked down at her daughter, mustering the best, if not fake, smile that she could.

“Nothing my little muffin. Nothing is wrong.”

“You said you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You said that we need to be honest about our feelings.”

The child had seen through her rues. She did not want to worry or scare her in her moment of what she considered weakness, but she did not want to lie to her. She had always told her daughter never to lie, and what kind of mother would she be if she lied to her daughter? She doubted herself, however, and found the best choice of words that she could for the child.

“I’m sorry muffin. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m okay mommy. Honest.”

The mother leaned down and nuzzled her daughter. No, her thoughts spoke, you’re not okay. You are starving, and you are breathing in too much ash. You are cold and wet, and because of my weaknesses, you are without a home. Instead, she smiled, and felt her daughter nuzzle her back.

***

The grayness of the day had become much darker as dusk approached. The mare kept a look out for a place to sleep, and if worse came to worse, she had decided that the two of them would sleep inside of the tree trunk they had seen before. The tree had looked strong, but looks could be deceiving, and she didn’t want it falling over unexpectedly, and keeping them asleep forever. They had not wandered too far from the area, but the forest had become slightly thicker. She had might of thought that they were lost, but her stubbornness and determination kept her from admitting so.

The child had been quieter since her nap, and the mother found herself worrying a little more. As they trudged through the woods, the mare felt something move against her hoof that did not feel like wood. When she looked down to see, it appeared to be a leg bone of some sort. Long and deathly white.

“Mommy,” She heard her daughter whisper, “There’s a body over there.”

Looking up from the bone, the mare saw that a few feet away was indeed a corpse. It appeared to be slumped on the ground, like all the others that she had seen, and a loose array of ivy and plants had grown on and around it. Its wide eyeless sockets stared at her, and a few teeth were scattered from its mouth. On the skull looked to be a peeling leather flight cap with goggles. As the mare trotted towards it and inspected it closer, she found that a large barrier of brush behind it appeared to be hiding something. In a small clearing behind the body, there was a broken and rotting basket, with a leathery sort of large material attached via ropes.

Realizing what it was, the mare called back to the child. “Come here. We found something.”

The child rushed to her side quickly, but looked confused at the sight. “What is this thing?”

“It’s an air balloon.”

As the mare inspected the balloon closer, she found that a large hole had been torn in the side, and that some of the leather had been burned away. The balloon itself was thick and rubbery, and she realized that although it might be useful, she did not possess any item to cut it with. Looking about, she searched the destroyed basket while her daughter sat on the balloon and stared at her.

The basket itself was worthless and broken. She had figured that she might be able to weave something together from its remains, but as she touched it, it crinkled and fell apart. The rope that had been at the bottom of the basket was good, and she took it and stored it inside her saddle bags. A small rusted toolbox lay open on its side, with a few tools scattered about it. Most of the tools were rusted and unusable, but she had managed to find a few that were not; a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, and a telescope. The mare took all of these tools, and as she looked through a small compartment inside the tool box, she found a small but sharp knife inside that could still be opened.

With the knife she found, she salvaged a little bit of the rope keeping the balloon together, and then she began to fashion a few face cloths out of the leather of the balloon. The balloon was much thicker than she had initially thought, but tearing it apart layer by layer revealed the proper and durable materials. In the painstaking process of one hour, the mare had managed to fashion a face cloth for her and her daughter. She tied the cloth around her daughter’s face, and applied hers as well.

“How does that feel?” She asked the child.

“It feels better, but my voice sounds weird.”

“At least you won’t be coughing as much.”

“I guess so.”

***

They had been forced to sleep in the trunk that night. The mare kept the child huddled under her wing for warmth. She took out a blanket that she had kept in her saddlebags. She covered them both, but kept the child underneath the warmth and safety of her wing. The child did not speak any that night or evening, but the mare was awake, and listened and felt the wind blowing a cold, unforgiving wind across the forest floor.

Tomorrow morning, the mare decided, she would take to the air, and fly above the trees. When she did that, she might be able to see which way they were going. The forest itself was a dangerous place, but it was more dangerous to be out in the open, where nopony could keep themselves hidden. In spite of this, however, there was nothing to be eaten in this forest, and they needed to find civilization. They had eaten a little that day, but it would not last. Already, the mare could feel that the energy she had gotten from the food was beginning to leave her, and her eyes slowly began to drift.

As she began to feel herself doze off, she looked down at her daughter. She counted each precious breath she took, and smiled at the rising and falling of the small fragile body.

Author's Note

I'm a bit worried that I might have killed off Dumb Bell too quickly, but I figured that would just be the way that the apocalypse would work. One minute you might meet someone, and then they could get killed unexpectedly. Besides that, this one is considerably shorter than the previous.