Helping Ponies

Thistle wished ponies got a winter coat like other animals. Her hooves were numb and her legs ached from the cold. Digging in the snow for winter food wasn’t helping matters. If she fell through one more snowbank, Thistle was going to scream.

Even as she thought this, her hoof slipped out from under her. Yelping, she pulled herself up and skidded backwards, shaking off snow as she went.

She hadn’t even been able to fill one basket this time. Everywhere she looked the gathering places were picked clean. Even the furthest ones that only her family ventured to. There was no more denying it, they’d have to start asking for food from the storehouse.

She took a second to orient herself towards the village. It was a long walk, but the weather was clear. No signs of anymore storms. Hopefully the weather would stay clear like this until spring arrived. She wasn’t sure Enduring could take another blizzard, even with the fire.

Thistle folded her ears back. Enduring slept more and more these days. And was forgetful when she was awake. Her hearing was going badly, her eyes hardly saw anything anymore, and even her sense of smell was dimmer. Somepony had to help her outside to relieve herself every day because Enduring couldn’t stand up on her own anymore.

And there was nothing she could do about it. Everything she’d learned and nothing had told her how to wipe the years from a pony’s face. Enduring didn’t have long left before she would go to the Endless Pasture.

Thistle stopped walking along the path, checking to see if there was anypony nearby. Seeing she was alone, Thistle bowed her head close to the ground. She dug out a small space, just enough so she could see the dirt. With her head hanging low, she began to whisper.

“Please, Mother Earth, make the Endless Pastures as nice as Enduring said they were. Make sure all her friends and family are there to welcome her when she arrives.” Thistle swallowed around the rock in her throat. “Make her young again, so her joints don’t ache, and she has her teeth and she can see how pretty everything is. Make it warm.”

“And please, guide those of us left behind. I’m scared of what will happen when she’s gone. I’m scared I haven’t learned enough.” With nothing else to add, she thanked Mother Earth for listening and then continued on her way.

The edge of the village was marked by Hope’s hut. Thistle thought about stopping to see her, but it never helped. Maybe ponies who were hurting like that had to take the first step for themselves.

She still took a few steps towards the hut, uncertain. She shook herself free and turned towards the path leading to her own hut instead. Her frozen hooves took two tries to open the door.

“I’m home.” She slammed her weight against the door to shut it again.

“Burr,” Another shiver wracked her frame. Enduring’s voice was weak, breathless.

Everypony was there. Morning was crying into Mountain’s mane. Hornet was rubbing his hoof over Camellia’s back. Dim was nuzzling Enduring, the fur of her face wet with tears.

“Enduring, what’s wrong?” She stepped around the fire, then lowered herself next to the old nag.

“Nuttin’, nuttin’s wrong, Burr.” Enduring sighed, milky eyes blinking closed. “Got’s my fam’ly all togeder now.”

“Why’s everypony crying?” Her breath hitched around a sob.

“I’s gonna be okay, Burr, sweet filly. Everyding will be okay.” She had to lean close to hear her. “’Member whut all I taught ye, n’ love eachoder always, okay?”

Thistle’s heart turned to ice. Burning tears slid down her cheeks.

“Enduring,” She started. Stopped. The words refused to come.

“So lucky ta meet yew, Distle Burr. Gonna do great dings, I know.” Enduring chuckled before breaking into a coughing fit that shook them all. It took several minutes for her to catch her breath.

“I love yew, Burr. Love all y’all. Wanted ta get ta spring. Wanted…ta see…ta see.”

“See what?” Thistle nudged her once, gently, then harder. “See what, Enduring?”

“Enduring!” She raised her hooves to shake her. Nothing, not even the rustle of breath. She couldn’t draw in enough air. “Enduring, please! You gotta tell me! You can’t go yet! You still have lots to teach me!”

“Thistle,” She felt Hornet’s hoof on her back. She stopped trying to shake Enduring awake.

Losing her dam didn’t feel like this. It hadn’t felt like a loss at all, except for when she thought of how hard it would be to survive on her own. There hadn’t been this rock lodged in her throat. There hadn’t been this ache in her chest. This trembling in her hooves.

This couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be normal. She felt like her heart was going to stop. It would burst and she’d lie down and gallop to the Endless Pastures. Nopony could survive this pain. Nopony should have to.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Frozen ground was hard to dig in. It took hours before it was done, and the light was fading when the herd gathered together for this funeral. Mountain and Hornet carried Enduring’s body to the sledge, Morning pulled it to the hole.

Dim Light, Thistle, and Camellia followed behind it. Light kept her head up, weak eyes following the passage of the sledge. Thistle walked in the middle, and Light made sure they walked close enough to touch.

At Flicker Light’s funeral she hadn’t known how she felt. Flicker Light was her aunt, but Light hadn’t felt any real grief at her passing. At best, she’d been shaken because Flicker was the first pony to die in the village.

Enduring though, Enduring’s death felt like a loss. A real one. Like somepony had stolen her leg out from under her and she had to continue without it.

When they reached the field with the hole, Light tried to focus on the pile of rocks that marked Flicker’s resting place. Silently, she sent an apology to her aunt for not grieving her the way Light grieved for Enduring.

The three of them stopped before the hole while Morning pulled the sledge alongside it. There, Hornet and Mountain worked together to lower Enduring into the grave. Rock Slide and Oak Leaf then began to bury her.

“Today, we lost Enduring Rock. She was forty-two years old, and was granddam or great-granddam to many in the herd.” The Lead Mare spoke to the herd. “After the Light-That-Wasn’t, she adopted the orphaned filly, Thistle Burr, and taught her how to heal. May she run forever in the Endless Pastures of our Mother Earth.”

There were whinnies of agreement and a general stomping of hooves. Light glared at the ground so she wouldn’t have to see it. None of them had cared about Enduring. They were here because everypony else was. It felt like a trespass.

Thankfully, the herd thinned quickly after that. Ponies didn’t want to be out in the cold as the sun finally set. Light didn’t feel the cold. She’d stay here as long as Thistle did.

She nuzzled her sister and was nuzzled in turn. Light could hear Camellia crying as quietly as she could on Thistle’s other side, and she felt it when Thistle shifted to hug Cam. Mountain, Morning, and Hornet were grouped together by the grave, piling rocks overtop so they wouldn’t forget where their granddam was buried.

“Dim Light,” She flinched in surprise. She and Thistle both turned to see her mother standing nearby. Light could hear her baby sister fussing in her mother’s basket.

“May I speak with you, Dim Light?” Mother’s request was shy and uncertain. Equally unsure, Light turned to Thistle.

“Go, we’ll meet you back home.” Thistle urged her.

Mother’s hut glittered. Gems of every color decorated the walls, held there by gully mud. The light of the fire made the whole room sparkle. It was easily the most beautiful hut in the entire village. Even with her eyes, Light couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful thing imaginable.

Starlight had a basket stuffed with grass that she laid her baby sister in. Light leaned forward to take in the foal’s scent. The filly giggled and grabbed her snout. Light had never been this close to a foal before.

“Her name is Sunlight.” She turned one ear towards her mother, content to let her baby sister pat her face.

“She’s adorable.” Light offered.

“She is.” The tension built between them. Light did her best not to let it get to her. She didn’t know what her mother wanted to talk about, but Light’s place wasn’t here. She was meant to be with Thistle and the rest of her chosen family.

“Dim Light, will you look at me, daughter of mine?” It took her a moment to believe she’d really said that. Gently, she pulled away from Sunlight to face her mother.

“Daughter of mine, your group, do they love you?” Starlight asked.

“They do, and I them.” Light nodded. The rainbow of gems was beautiful, but it made it even harder for her eyes to focus.

“…I have been thinking of this since we came to the valley, and my thoughts only grew more urgent when Flicker died.” Light heard her take a shaky breath before forging onward.

“In the normal way of things, when a mother died, the foal often died within days of her. But, since the Light-That-Wasn’t, that isn’t what happens anymore.” Her mother’s blurred form stepped forward and around her, so she could offer her hoof to Sunlight. “Now, ponies take in the foals left behind.”

“Enduring Rock took in Thistle Burr, Morning Dew and Mountain Shadow took in Camellia,” Light stepped aside and sat down, listening.

“Flicker left a colt, Sun Patch. A mare in their group took him in.” Starlight took a deep breath, this one steadier than the last.

“I don’t have any others in my group, Dim Light. Flicker was my only relative in this herd, besides you. And that is why, should I die, I ask you to please take in Sunlight.”

“Mother,” She wanted to step forward to hug her, but her mother had never been receptive to her affection in the past. With the way things were between them, given all that had happened, Light didn’t know if she really wanted to anyway. Her mother had cast her out, to live or die by her own merits. And that was after ten years of telling Dim Light she was a failure in every way because of her eyes.

“Should something happen to you, and I sincerely hope nothing will, I’ll take in Sunlight.” She promised.

“Thank you,” Light waited, then stood to go. At the door she paused to take one last look at the dazzling room.
Part of her wanted an apology, but the rest of her was too grateful to demand one. She had a family that truly loved her, and that family was waiting for her at home, not in this hut of colored light.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Days passed, bringing a sun that shone through the icy air. The storms all but ceased and, slowly, the snow began to melt. Grass started to push its way through the soil as spring found its way to True Valley.

“Ground’s finally getting soft enough its easier to dig in.” Marsh commented, plowing through a small patch of dirt with her hoof. Leaning against her side was a spear, with the spear head curved instead. This she began to drag a small furrow with. Her filly, Summer Showers, followed behind and carefully began planting oat seeds.

“Can you imagine an entire field of oats?” Thistle jumped in surprise, turning to see Pucker Thorn had snuck up on her. He was a little thinner after winter, but most ponies did look thinner. He looked good though, the food they’d gathered was almost all gone but it had kept the herd fed for the entire winter.

Nopony had starved and only one had died of the cold. It was a miracle. A blessing.

But Enduring wasn’t here to see it.

“Hey,” He bumped her shoulder until she looked at him. “It’ll be okay.”

“…I just wish she could’ve seen this.” Thistle looked out at the field they’d marked off.

In a few days, the oats would begin to sprout. Things were changing, always changing. Ponies were running around. Even the adults were acting like foals, stretching their legs after the long winter. Everypony was just so happy to be alive!

Thistle took a deep breath. Yes, everypony was glad that spring was finally here. It hadn’t been easy and there had been losses, but here was the herd, still going strong.

“Uh, Thistle,” Pucker tapped her shoulder. “I think somepony’s here to see you.”

Curious, Thistle looked over her shoulder. Hope Springs had left her hut. She had baskets on her back and her spear in hoof. She’d parted her mane to fall over her lost eye. Her ribs poked through her sides and her legs were nobly with all the weight lost. The season had not been kind.

“Healer,” Hope nodded to her, then gestured towards the western forest. Thistle moved to walk beside her.

“I’m glad to see you out of your hut.” She smiled shakily.

“Somepony else may have it. I am leaving.” She offered in explanation.

“You’re…what?” She gasped. They stopped walking, now within the boundaries of the forest.

“Leaving, Healer.” Hope repeated. She turned to look in Thistle’s eyes. “The herd, the village.”

“But why? You’ll never survive on your own!” She argued.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Hope sighed and sat down facing her. “This valley will not remain hidden for long, Healer Burr.”

“What do you mean?” They weren’t hiding. What was Hope trying to say? “Hidden from what? Monsters?”

“Ponies can be monsters too.” Hope muttered sourly. She continued, “My intent is to learn what I can of monsters and other herds, see if they have magic as well. I want to see if other ponies have been blessed.”

“I’m not blessed.” She protested. “And why? Sooner or later another herd will wander across our valley and we can learn then. And the monsters? We can’t learn anything if you’re dead!”

“And how sure are you that the next herd we meet will be benign?” Hope challenged. “We are about to have entire fields of food, we have shelters, fresh water, no major predators nearby. Do you really think other herds will simply leave in peace when we have such resources? And, unless they are unluckier than even I, they will not simply ask to merge with us.”

“And how do you expect to prevent that by leaving?” Thistle asked.

“By coming back!” Hope stamped her hooves, sides heaving. “And telling you, so you can prepare.”

“I can’t stay here, with no purpose,” Thistle winced at her words. Hope stood up to walk away. “At least if I die out there, it will be for a reason.”

Thistle couldn’t stop her. She didn’t have the right words. Hope had never really attached herself to the herd. She’d only lingered on the edges, as outcast as a pony could be without being banished.

“It wasn’t an easy decision to make.” Hope confided. She wouldn’t turn around but Thistle could see she was shaking. “It wasn’t until your mentor’s funeral that I finally made up my mind.”

“Enduring? W-Wha? How did that help you decide this?” Thistle frowned. Now Hope looked over her shoulder to face her.

“Because now you know how loss feels.” The words stung at her eyes. “And you are so kind, Healer. I don’t want you to feel that loss again.”

“I’ll feel it again if you die.” Thistle wiped away her tears. “If you’re determined, then I can’t stop you. But I’ll mourn you if you die, Hope Springs. So you’d better come back!”

“I will return, if I am able.” Hope Springs walked then. She walked through the forest until she was out of sight and hearing of Thistle.

Thistle stood there and pretended she wasn’t shaking.