A White Coat Stained Red
It might seem quite silly,
To you young fillies,
To tell this sad story of woe.
But I assure all you foals,
That this poor little soul,
Must be remembered in the record of song.
His life fell too short,
When the fates held their court,
To determine the death of this colt.
With a coat white milk,
And eyes like black silk,
And hooves more silver than stars.
He fled from the terror,
Of chaos’ bearer,
Into the harshest of winter’s storms.
The dangerous forest,
Sung its pleasant chorus,
To this orphaned young foal.
And into the darkness,
Of this forest so heartless,
Scrambled this one with mane white as snow.
The timber wolves howls,
And the forest’s dark jowls,
Frightened our white lost foal.
But despite all this danger,
And plants ever stranger,
And winds ceaseless evil roar;
He never stopped moving,
Though the fight he was loosing,
And the dangers where more than before.
Then without a good warning,
As though he was soaring,
He fell down a caverns hole in the earth.
Despite hurting limbs,
And the shadows so dim,
In the distance a light glowed blue on dark stone.
Forward he scrambled,
Though gnarled old brambles,
To the safety offered by a tree of pure soul.
Protected at last,
By a piece of the past,
He fell into the world of sleep.
The forest unsettled,
By ponies who meddled,
With the items to bring it under control.
Sought to kill this pony,
In this cave more than lonely,
With the thing that he feared the most.
Timber wolves came,
Like moths to a flame,
And stained this pony’s white coat.
Now redder than red,
As a wise pony said,
Nothing is redder than blood.
But his death cries were heard,
By more than the birds,
And from the darkness came sister foals.
When they saw what became,
Of the forest’s claim,
The younger’s wrath startled the wolves.
Of what next happened,
The wolves they were flattened,
By the gems the tree held close.
But the poor little colt,
By a the light of a bolt,
Could be seen stiller than stone.
With the gems they could now,
Stop the ponies who bow,
To the tyrant of choas’ rule.
With their friendship intact,
They could finally act,
And turn this evil to cold heartless stone.
When the ponies all gathered,
Their homeland in tatters,
They crowned the sisters princesses behold.
But was this poor foal,
Remembered in scrolls?
Neigh I say, that none but the younger remembered his soul.
This the same story, just written out so I could write the poem. I leave it here for you to read if you wish.
Into the dark stormy night ran the poor little colt, his coat and mane pure white. Eyes blacker than coal, hooves silver as stars, his fear clear in those intelligent eyes. The evil storms made by Discord scared him, his family had vanished a long time ago. With nowhere to go to be safe from the monsters that now ruled the world, the earth pony galloped deep into the snow.
Vanishing almost instantly in the white out, he struggled to the nearest shelter, the even more dangerous and wild Ever Free Forest. The snow was not as deep here, mostly gathering on the boughs of the tall tangled trees.
His hoof steps lost in the howling wind, the colt struggled through the tangled underbrush of the forest. Any dangerous monsters were sure to be in their caves, at least that is what the foal hoped; but any hope he had of safety was soon lost when the howls of the timber wolves could be heard over the wind.
Startled the colt ran faster and faster, tripping over roots and loose branches. On and on the pure white foal ran, his coat getting speckled with dirt and leaves, burrs getting caught in his main and tail.
Suddenly, the wind stopped as the foal entered a clearing. The snow still fell here, but much more gently than before. With caution, he walked forward into the dimly lit place, the grass too tall to see over.
The next step, his hoof landed on air, and he slipped forward, into nothingness.
A thud and a bump latter, the colt found himself in bush at the bottom of a ravine. In the distance, was a cave, where a soft blue light poured out. With a limp in his front left leg, the foal made his way slowly to the light, hoping against hope that it was not dangerous.
The light fell on the terrified, innocent colt. His black eyes widened with joy. A beautiful tree stood in the cave, soft green grass surrounded its gentle roots. Gems where embedded in the trunk and branches that glowed with a strange, magnificent light.
Limping up to the tree the colt lay down, sure that his hardships would be over for now…
A distance scream startled the two sisters who were safe and sound in a sandy burrow in the roots of a huge pine tree. The elder, a white alicorn with a pink main nodded to her sister, a sign that they needed to investigate.
After scrambling out through a small tunnel, the two flew above the forest, straight to their beloved tree of harmony. The sight they saw when they reached though was one of sadness and horror. A little white foal stained red.
Two timber wolves stood between the sisters and their prey. The blue eyes of the younger filled with tears and a cry escaped her mouth, a cry of pure anger and hatred. A bolt of lightning struck the ground.
The gems in the tree reacted to this cry of vengeance, this cry of pure compassion for a foal she had never met. A healing rainbow blasted the timber wolves to mere twigs and leaves.
The younger sister rushed to this foal’s side, but he did not move. Slowly, the elder moved in, still trying to understand what her sister had done.
“Discord will pay for this,” the younger said, tears dripping down her face.
Solemnly, the two dug a hole among the roots of the tree, and buried the little white foal. The sisters, though scrawny and young, looked fiercer than a manticore in that moment, as the tree relinquished its gems to them.
“We go now,” the elder said. The younger simply nodded in agreement. Together, the two went to face the chaotic ruler of the ponies’ world.
Discord laughed in the faces of those two young ponies, but he met his fate. The strange storms ended, and the ponies declared the sisters their savors and crowned them rulers of Equestria.
A castle was built in the Ever Free Forest, near enough the Tree of Harmony that the two could keep a close eye on it.
But no songs where written about this poor little white foal, nothing but silence. Only the younger ever seemed to remember he existed at all.
Author's Note
I was feeling sad today, and I was playing this this idea for a while, only now writing in down for all to see.
