Regression

There was a long time ago, when all I did was walk. I would walk and carry, and for the most part, it was fruitful. I gained a lot of strength from it, built muscle over the months. It hardened me and even helped shape the ursine I am today. With a fluffy coat though, times were tough. Summers would nearly killed me and for others, it did. I watched a lot of good bears die. Weak bears, ones that didn't fight hard enough to survive and thus paid for it. I'm willing to admit that now.

Back then, the Minotaurs lied to us a lot. Told us they died doing a hard days work, meaning the gods had plenty of room for them in the great beyond. We were mules to them, so they could easily replace us. The corpses were dumped in a ditch and left without proper burial. The words they gave us were their way of crowd control. I was always left with haul duty...

I knew the lies, I could recite them after a while, but I never ever believed them. I doubt anyone did, but we kept on walking. We held our heads low. We didn't speak out, we avoided showing much emotion. We were good. We had nothing left.

So, we braced ourselves and fought droughts, famine, and abuse. I watched heatstroke kill some, beatings kill others and soon it became a numbing reality. But still we marched on. Miraculously, I persisted. It was hard to tell why back then. My feelings were kept locked up, so there never was any real expression. There are memories of happiness before then, but why bother? What would those memories have done but just gotten me killed like the rest. Survival was provident. Honestly, my former husk relied solely on that instinct. And in the end, it was what helped me reach an opportunity.

Eight months in, we were guided into the heart of Equestria. The Minotaurs favored the capital for it's countries' annual Trader's Exchange. Bits set aside for a more traditional trading system. Pieces of culture bartered for different pieces, value agreed on by two parties, no strings attached. It was paradise for them given their addictions to crafts and artistry.

The city was a spectacle for sure. Bustling ponies weaving together like a traffic of ants, searching for the next trade. It was a frenzy, which our parade stuck out of like a sore paw. We were able to make our way given the ponies were notably eerie when it came to foreign Minotaur traders. I would learn later that some bad experiences in a town called PonyVille painted both Yaks and Taurs alike as bad apples. Nonetheless, we spread the pony sea without even trying. All of them eager to avoid trouble. There, in that prosperous city, a common oddity reflected upon each face. They all avoided looking at us. We were heathens, our eyes detailing us as nothing but beasts. Intelligence all but dwindled and replaced with ignorant submission. But, we were exotic. Many wondering fillies and colts couldn't help themselves and passing questions were inevitable. My ears would flick at their words, but I'd never register them. I like to think they asked what we were. And I like to think they got guilty answers. I hope oh so dearly that the parents choked out the words as they told those children lies. That we were animals. They knew. All of them knew.

But, their behaviors where none of my concern that day. My mind was honed in on food and water, my thoughts a stir of nothing much else. We made our way to the center of the festival and the Minotaurs went browsing. The herd was left in a pin while I was left to haul once more, this time a simple cart for grocery and coin. A promotion really. I tagged along and helped carry newly bought items. Heavy ones too. I was growing tired after too long and it was seen as time for them to feed me. We went towards the concession where I was to get a nibble of hay while we bought bundles for the other bears. They had split up in the process during the transaction, many wanting to get their own fills. The exchanges were unclear, but a notion of confidence that I would stay put and eat must have been agreed upon, because I was left without being hitched.

For a while, I did just that. But, something kept nudging at me. A certain smell that wasn't hay. It started soft, but after a couple minutes I couldn't quite shake the desire to find it's source. I'd been given plenty to eat in my life, hauling bodies and other heaps of crap left for a big appetite. I was the only bear who'd survived long enough in this group to earn a simple living like this. After a while, they'd become attached to me like I were a pet. A dead brained, punching bag, but still a pet. That said, this smell intrigued me for a reason I wasn't quite sure. This wasn't my first rodeo, and new smells weren't a common weakness for me. Nonetheless, I followed my sniffer. The cart trailing behind me.

I meandered a short distance when I found myself taking a few steps up a sudden staircase in the middle of the festival grounds. The city had plenty of inclines so I wasn't caught off guard really. I began to take a new step when all the sudden I was jerked to a halt. My cart wouldn't go up stairs. The obvious action was to tug and pull fruitlessly. Logic dictated that since I was strong from lots of hauling, I could defy these stairs and reach my destination. I pulled and pulled, grunting with effort, but it was no use. I flopped, belly down, on the staircase and grunted in slight pain, accepting my defeat finally. I was about to back up when I heard a very startling voice.

"Hehe, my, leaving already? Was there not something you wanted, little Red?"

I couldn't understand the words. I couldn't place the voice. But, there was a sound in there. A sound that... that aggravated me. It was rare that something ever stirred me. It's unexplainable though. Deep down, buried within the mounds of silence and submission, was a cry of defiance. Slowly, my head lifted up, a strain on my neck, but something made it necessary. It was essential that I looked. Because something that aggravated me deserved immediate attention. I had learned to abandon that word, along with other synonyms for anger. It'd cost so many other Red Panda's their lives, it was only smart to learn and avoid, but this voice...

My gaze trailed up a pair of white furred legs. Long, white furred legs. It took a moment to travel, but once I caught sight of her croup it became apparent that this wasn't just a normal pony. This was a beautiful... my gaze continued to wonder up... majestic... strands of rainbow mane danced across my eyes... unimaginable... my eyes met hers... pile of shit!

It was there, that I saw it. An emotion that engulfed me in whirl wind of hate almost instantaneously. This certain expression driving out a hatred that would have been unfeasible if the minotuars were around. They weren't, and my rage was free to roam. Rage... that's what it was. I had rage again! And it was focused. Honed. Directed solely on that one expression given to me by the apparent co-ruler of the great land of Equestria...

Genuine sorrow....

She had no business looking at me like that. She just sat and looked. She knew. How dare she.... How Dare She.... HOW DARE SHE!!

Sit there.... and do nothing...

From there, I remember very little besides the effort and desire. The pure unyielding will to kill. To hurt and maim. I was half-way up the stairs in a split second. The cart was tossed wildly around as I made my ascension. My claws scraped against the stone, propelling my ferocity towards my startled target. I was so close it seemed, but always too far away. I was merely feet away when I pounced, soaring through the air, fangs brandished like a pair of feral knives.

A force smashed me down before I could even get in a scratch.

"Ugh! What in the world... commander! What do you think you are doing?! Excessive force on an animal is prohibited!"

"My Princess, I... I hold no disrespect, but I'm fulfilling my duties."

"Which decree do you stand by that permits animal abuse!?! I will not be lectured on obligation when the situation hardly called for it. I can protect myself, Commander. Now cease!!!"

"Ma'am..."

"I. Said. Cease."

There was a long quiet, and the pressure along my body eased away.

"Y-Yes, Princess."

I laid there for what felt like days before a warm glow slowly enveloped my body. It hadn't been substantial, but the mild pain I'd had seconds before melted away, almost completely forgotten in mere moments. I was left dazed. Sensations were seething through my body where there should be numb acceptance. I was reeling from the recent overload.

"That should take care of any careless damage, plus some. You poor thing..."

My body pulsed with another shot of rage, only flashing long enough to have me writhe on the floor. I could hear a disdained sigh before the world around me opened back up. I blinked my eyes suddenly and began to scramble to my paws. The weight of the cart was gone. A sudden dread fell over me at that fact. Another one quaked my body with fear as I heard heavy, familiar hoof steps stomp my direction. Both long forgotten feelings that I'd thought had expired in the recesses of my mind now fleshed out heavily as I heard one Minotaur shout my name. "Zack!!!"

They never called us by name usually. It was always a terrible sign if they did, and his voice was giving me all the signs I needed. I began to shiver more visibly as I slowly turned around. I suddenly became very aware of where my cart had ended up. Having seemingly vanished during my rush towards the princess, the harness had snapped, sending it toppling down a small flight of stairs. Small in theory, but massive when reality struck. Hundreds of bits worth of resalable merchandise now scattered the street, mostly in shambles. Fresh grocery also spilled out and spoiled as it rolled and splattered along the floor. And the cart, both wheels detached and splintered in different places, now desperately in need of repairs. I was dead.

"I believe this one is yours then?" With a shit eating giggle, the tall pony princess behind me went silent for a minute. In her silence came an aura that engulfed the wagon and merch, slowly lifting it and beginning a stunning display of reassembly. The wagon merely squeaked and groaned as it was welded together again, as if melting the wood into place. It gleamed it's golden glaze for all of seconds before a perfectly repaired wagon stood before everyone. The miscellaneous items were also brought back to pristine condition, while the grocery was simple teleported away.

"My guards will help with affording more food, I assure you. Please, do excuse my Commander. On his behalf, I am deeply sorry for the harm shown towards your pet. It will NOT, happen again."

The next few exchanges were awkward and clunky. Both sides trying to brush the issue to the side, weary of any tensions that might arise from the unfortunate situation. While the Minotaur's tone changed, my fear stayed strong. While everything was fixed, a subtle and unspoken rule had been broken today. I'd caused trouble. I'd wounded the pride of a group of abusers and given them a scare. One did not simply walk away after scaring a Minotaur, especially a punching bag like myself. There were going to break me.

***

Author's Note

Still going strong! Haha. So far this hasn't been well received, or received much at all honestly. But, I expected that. In fact, I'm kind of glad. This much silence in the comments tells me that I have a long way to go. And I feel I'm ready to start the grueling climb.

Anyway, still looking for people willing to edit my words. Would absolutely love the support, what ever little you might be comfortable with. That said, here's another chapter!