The Not so Mundane Marching of a Completely Forgettable Bug-Horse

My wake-up call was not a pleasant one. I woke up in midair, falling off the train. Panicked, I tried to flip myself upright and glide, but in the process slammed myself against the stone wall. I shrieked as I felt my ribs snap with a sickening crack. I tumbled against the cliff cutting myself on the jagged rocks before finally landing in the mud.

“BUCK!” I shouted out loud, that hurt a lot. Without standing up, I reverted back to my normal form and assessed the damage. My wings were miraculously okay, but I was by no means unscathed. I was sporting two large stitch-worthy gashes (one on my left side, and one on my right foreleg), was covered in scrapes and bruises, and I was guessing I had broken two or three ribs. This time I only mentally cursed, as to conserve energy.

Think 1604490! What do you have, and what do you need? I had six full energy stones, my morph-pack, some dandelions, a brochure, and a significant amount of mud. Energy stones, I had enough magic that I could potentially use changing abilities to heal my wounds, it would just be very painful. Pain relief then, I could coat myself in slime to diffuse the magic out across my body so it wouldn’t hurt as much, and I produced slime so it being in my wounds shouldn’t have any negative effects. Oh wait, I had landed in the mud, my cuts were full of dirt. There was no way I could close any of my cuts now, they would surely get infected and there was no medical care available for a changeling outside Hive. I would have to clean them out somehow. That was what I needed, water.

Alright where would I find water then? I looked around. It seemed like I had fallen about 2.5 lengths when the train had gone around a curve on a natural mountain bridge. I guess it made sense that the water would run off of that mountain to the lowest point it could find. If I walked downhill, I’d have to find water eventually. That was what I was going to do then.

I tried to stand up, but my side bucking hurt like tartarus! That wasn’t happening with my ribs like this, I thought hissing in pain. Well there was no mud on my ribs, so maybe I should go ahead and heal them. I wouldn’t be able to slime myself though, so it would hurt a lot. It would be a risky move, but if I didn’t do anything I would just be lying here waiting for my death.

I lit up my horn and floated two stones over into my mouth, ready for when I need them. I hoped I would never have to do this again. Carefully, I lay my head on its side, and started. In theory it was simple, I was just changing from a form with broken ribs to a form with perfectly intact ribs. It should only be as complicated gender. The issue was that it was my true form I was altering, if I ran out of magic I wouldn’t revert back to a changeling with broken ribs. The pain of using so much magic shot through me and I screamed. As my heart ran low on magic, I crushed the two stones in my jaw. Those were quickly drained, and I spat out their chalky remains. I was nearly empty, but the spell was too far gone to be stopped on my own. I regurgitated, and the world faded to black.

I woke up very sore, but alive. I grabbed another stone out of my bag and drained it, alleviating my headache. That had actually worked. Slowly, I stood up, but quickly sat back down dizzy. I turned my head to look at my mudpuddle, now smeared with blood and vomit. Horse apples, when was the last time I had anything to drink? Looking up at the sky it seemed to be about noon.

I stood up again, slower this time. There was only one cure for dehydration, water. With that I carefully started walking downhill flapping my wings lightly to help me keep my balance. I’d almost forgotten to disguise myself. Tired, I opted just to return to my brown-bagged yellow pegasus mare. By the lack of emergency services here to help me, I was guessing nopony had witnessed her fall from the train, and was still a good disguise.

It was slow going through the thick underbrush of the forest. My wings barely had enough room to flutter, but there was also plenty of branches to catch myself with if I stumbled. I snacked as I traveled. I passed by plenty of goldenrods, which made for a sweet burst of energy. I snagged some for later, stuffing them in my bag. Otherwise my march was quiet, I encountered no ponies or woodland creatures.

It was late afternoon when I finally found water. It was a cute little brook with a small cobblestone road running on either side of it. A short distance from where I emerged from the foliage, there was a hardy wooden bridge made from thick logs. I trotted over to it and took off my bags, causing them to revert back to their original form. I stashed the gray belt up under the bridge and out of sight.

With some hesitation, I stood on the edge of the bridge and gently glided down into the cool clear water. I gulped a sizeable amount down with relief and started cleaning the mud of me. This was nothing like the river had been. It wasn’t fast, I could stand on the bottom all throughout it, and it was much warmer. I would almost call it pleasant, I reflected as I sent the mud and blood curling off behind me.

I was interrupted by high-pitched screech and the pounding of small hooves.
“Papa! Papa! Ah can’t go get the water!” a voice squeaked.
“Oh really?”, an older stallion sighed, “and tell me, why’s that?”
“There’s somepony bleedin’ it!”