Thoughts and Recreation.

Rumble watched his group of ponies with a stern gaze, each sprawled out among the grass lazily with a bored expression across their muzzles.

“Can we play cards?” Pipsqueak asked with a monotone voice, lifting his head up slightly from the grass.

“Phst. Risk getting a Cutie Mark in cards? Fat Celestia of a chance!” Rumble snapped back with a quick and swift reply.

“Fat what?” The colt grumbled aloud in defeat, his very body seeming to tense up from the lack of movement.

“Can we at least talk?” A cream white filly asked in a gentle voice, a sleepy yawn escaping her lips afterwards cutely.

“Hmmm. As long as it doesn’t involve Politics, Pop Culture or History. Less we suffer a fate in one of those academic prisons.” Rumble shuddered in place at the mere terror of that sentence.

“Why do you like drawing circles?’ The cream filly asked Kettle Corn with eyes closed, her small frame seeming to drift off into slumber.

Kettle shrugged her slender shoulders softly, pale blue eyes gazing high into the clear sky as if trying to lose herself in the vast pool of blue that was life.

“Well. I feel we all are spinning inward through life, our choices not only defining us but also driving us into a downward spiral with no escape.”

Kettle sighed and closed her eyes shut. The cool wind of the woods caressing her pale yellow coat in reassurance all would be fine.

“Do we as ponies have the spirit neigh the will to break the ever growing inward circle? Or are we forever trapped in this one direction?” A single tear rolled off the cheek of the child, splashing onto the ground in silence.

“Whoa! Stop right there K-Corn! No discussions on the futility of life either!” Rumble narrowed his eyes to the filly in growing anger.

“...” Kettle raised a brow to the colt.

“...” Rumble gazed deeper into her soul, threatening to burn it into a thousand pieces.

“I like circles.” Kettle replied in a dunce like fashion to appease the troubled colt.

“Grr. We were one turtle away from a dang Pop Culture Cutie Mark appearing on one of our flanks! No more talking!” Rumble hissed back to Kettle in visible anger.

Pipsqueak took in the silence like a finely aged carton of apple juice. Allowing the world around him to fade away, until it was only him and his thoughts. Rolling onto his backside he watched the clouds float by, a smile forming upon his muzzle as he found one that look just like him.

The Pipcloud was galloping happily across the open blue sky, free to do or be whatever he wanted. Yet as he galloped he soon came to a stop, a cloud looking like Scootaloo fluttering over delicately.

Soon both began to play with each other, Scootacloud tackling Pipcloud cutely while they both rolled across the cotton playfield of the heavens. It wasn’t long until both stopped,gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

Scootacloud leaned in close, her tiny soft muzzle inches away from giving a kiss to the petite cloud colt. Yet as Pipcloud began to pull in close himself, two cloud ponies of Apple Bloom and Sweetie formed behind him.

The Apple Cloud quickly taking out a stake as she plunged it into the cloud colt’s backside, he lifted up in pain only to have Sweetie Cloud wrap a noose around his neck and start strangling him.

Scootacloud laughing wickedly as she formed a sword of darkening clouds and aimed it at the colt’s head before…

“Ahhhh! ahhh! ahhh!” Pipsqueak screamed wildly as his small hooves flailed in all directions like a mad pony.

“I can’t be alone with my thoughts, they’re trying to kill me! WE NEED TO TALK!” Pipsqueak yelled out in pure terror as he flopped onto his belly and hid in the grass.

Rumble sat under his tree glaring to each filly and colt, letting them know with not a single word that they should sit still and be quiet. The crisp cool wind of this sunny day, brushing over his coat softly.

His mind running faster and faster, blurs of images and nightmares flashing before his very eyes. The pounding of his heart racing inside his chest, made him feel uneasy and cold.

“You’re losing control.” Kettle sighed from her place on the ground, never lifting a hoof as her voice wafted across the air eerily.

“No I’m not…”

“Yes you are. You know deep down inside that you will never step out of his shadow, stuck forever in a life that means nothing.” Kettle smirked wickedly.

“...”

“Let’s face it. You will never be Thunderlane, nothing you ever do will truly never be anything more than a shadow.” Kettle burst out into giggles wickedly, her eyes closed tightly.

“Shut up!”

“Go ahead and run, you can’t escape. You just prolong what you already know.” Kettle slowly lifted up from her spot, sitting on her hind hooves with a devilish smile.

“...”

“Spin, spin and spin. Down the spiral path, never to be free. But locked upon a path…” Kettle giggled with glee, her small yellow hooves drawing a spiral circle in the air.

“Shut up!”

“But locked upon a path!”

“SHUT UP!”

“BUT LOCKED UPON A PATH!”

Rumble gasped for his breath under the tree, shivering wildly in place as his eyes locked upon Kettle Corn on the grass. Her calm gaze locking on his own, never saying a word as she batted long lashes.

What if his thoughts and nightmares were correct, what if we all were set upon a path that could never be broken. His life was nothing but a shadow of another, would it be simpler to just fade away?

Lifting his head up to speak to the group, he suddenly heard a melodic tone off in the distance. It was Sweetie Belle and her friends, they yelled that a surprise was in the works back on the Cutie Mark side of camp.

This was enough to catch the attention of the group, quickly each pony swung up to dash off towards camp. Rumble sat under his tree in silence, not sure if he should follow. Would it even matter at this point?

Ears pinned back, Rumble got to his hooves and made his way to the group. Seeing laughter and smiles form in the distance as his brother came into view, a small spark of hope coming to light in his heart.

Perhaps he was wrong.

Coming to the line he drew in the dirt, he noticed he was alone on the side of fear.

Biting his lower lip he pushed away from the fear that bound him, walking towards the laughter.

Hoping to find a brighter tomorrow.