Drapetomania

by Penn Flair

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Profanity, Random, Slice of Life, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1293

Penn has been running for years. . . Searching for a purpose--a place to call home. Little does he know, all of those years he had been running, searching in vain.

I had left everything--my family, friends, even my identity back in Ponyville. One could say that I was following in my father’s hoof steps, fueled by an untamable wanderlust, but that wasn’t exactly the case. No. . . I was running away. Searching for a greater purpose. There had to be more to life than just. . . sitting in my mother’s shop waiting for something or someone exciting and different to burst into my monotonous, melancholy world. Little did I know, this would come in the form of a little Pegasus, so different, and yet. . . so familiar.

Published 2018-03-03 14:10:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-03-03 14:10:06 UTC

Runaway

“You have no idea who I am. . . Do you?”

His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at me. His voice was low and composed.

“I’m sorry; I don’t believe we’ve met. But then, you are so--” He hesitated, searching for the proper term. “--nondescript I could’ve seen you anywhere--or nowhere, really. Yes, that seems about right.” Nowhere. . . The word slipped easily off his tongue. Too easily. Typical of Penn Flair. “Now if you‘ll excuse me--”

“B-but, Penn, y-you’re my friend,” I stuttered, jumping in front of the tall, poised stallion. Despite my small stature, (I had my mother to thank for that), I inherited my father’s grit. I wasn’t about to let him leave without an explanation.

“Let me stop you there,” he said, his cool orange eyes piercing my pale blue ones. His voice never rose or wavered. “I have no friends. In fact, I haven’t the time for friends. Let alone the son of a small-town blacksmith and--what did you say your mother was-- a time criminal? How flattering.” As he spoke, his voice became further and further away. I merely stood in disbelief. How dare he?

“Hey, whoa, whoa. Whoa!” I chased after the stallion cloaked in black. I could feel the blood rush to my freckled cheeks and my powdery brown coat start to floof. “You can make fun of me, you can make fun of my hometown, but nopony,--and I mean NOPONY-- makes fun of my mamma.”

“I’m sure,” he rolled his eyes, amused, before stepping around me and continuing on his way.

I let out a long, sad sigh. “I thought you were better than this, Penn. But, boy, was I wrong. . .” His hooves continued to clop slowly down the alley. My heart began to flutter. I couldn’t let him leave. Not again. Not like this. “Y-your mother wouldn’t be too proud of the stallion you’ve become.”

He stopped in his tracks--his back to me--and time seemed to follow suit.

At this time, I had become fully aware of his appearance.

Oh, Celestia, he looks so pale! Well, paler than usual. And his hooves are so dirty. . . That’s a first.
Look at that cloak! It’s so tattered and worn. It practically sticks to his boney frame.
Damn that hat. Wear it for one nightmare night, and now look at him, he practically lives in the thing.
He looks so grown up. . . so much like his father. . . Nah, Uncle Dust has that rough look about him.
Penn is so elegant. So poised. So. . . Beautiful.

Dammit, Penn, look at me you adorable wordsmith. . .

“Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally answered, shifting his eyes toward me without turning his head. He fixed his sombrero, tilting it further forward, as though over his eyes, and disappeared around the corner. It was only then that I was aware of the tears in mine.

* * *

It wasn’t difficult to drown out his voice. . . Pretend he wasn’t there. After all, he was just another pony. But then he wasn’t. Chip Pathfinder was his name. I remembered him well. Though I wouldn’t admit it, we were friends once. Practically cousins, I daresay, seeing our parents knew each other so well. He used to follow me around like a puppy, much to my displeasure. At this time, we hadn’t seen each other in years. . . and I there I was, leaving him again.

I winced, for I could hear his half-smothered sobs as I spun around the corner. “I-I hope your happy, Penn,” he sniffled. “Really, I do.” I could hear his hooves tearing down the alleyway from whence he came.

“Sweet Celestia save me,” I moaned. Suddenly, the bright, candy colored streets of Las Pegasus were no longer so bright. Every step I took from there was torture. I won’t let this afflict me, I thought. It’s just. . . Another bump in the road. Yes, I reasoned. Merely a distraction. You’ll get over this soon enough, Penn. You must.

* * *

A few days later, I met my cousin, Scratch, for a cup of coffee. He had been living in Las Pegasus for three years. He had become quite the desired DJ in the Las Pegasus/Applewood area.

“Hey, if it isn’t the allusive Penn Flair dropping in for a visit,” he teased.

“Charmed, Weathervane,” I said, returning his brohoof before taking a seat.

“It’s been a while, cuz.”

“Yes, I suppose it has,” I answered, sipping my cappuccino.

“Right. So, Las Pegasus. How ya liking it?”

“It’s fine.”

“Whoa!” He sat up straight, a wild look in his eyes. “Lookit you! Beanpole Penn, the prissy colt, fine with the slots, cider, and mares. Damn, Penn, you really have changed.”

I rolled my eyes. “I said ‘it’s fine.’ Kindly don’t exaggerate.”

“Celestia, I was joking. Oh, hey! You remember our old pal, Chip, right?”

I nearly choked on my cappuccino.

“Yeah,” he continued. “I saw him a couple of days ago. Poor kid looked like he was in a rush, so I didn’t get a chance to--Uh, are you ok, champ?” My expression had darkened considerably.

“Yes,” I parried. “Quite fine. I just remembered, I left supper on the stove.”

“Dude. You just got here. And we have so much catching up to--”

“Yes, I know” I interrupted in an uncharacteristically hurried tone. “A thousand apologies, cousin, but do you want my dinner to be the reason this town goes down in flames?” He looked thoroughly amused. “Ah, see? I knew you’d understand. Perhaps another time, eh?”

“Yeah, whatever, Beanpole.”

“Thanks, DJ, I owe ya one.”

* * *

I paced the floor of my apartment, wondering why I cared. I couldn’t stop thinking about Chip. Somehow, his words, his longing gaze were able to penetrate my stone-cold heart.

Damn it, Penn, why are you such a freakin’ asshat? Nondescript, are you kidding? You’re not some Canterlot noble. You’re supposed to be his friend. His best friend no less!

I looked out the window, beyond the city, beyond the mountains and towns between here and home.

“Home. . .” The word barely managed to escape my lips, sending a chill down my spine.

I thought leaving it all behind would be fulfilling, but Celestia above, why do I feel so empty?

Suddenly, without thinking, I jumped up and grabbed my cloak and hat, throwing them on with one fluid motion. I burst out of the building and into the street. From there I ran. I ran through the streets of Las Pegasus and onto the open country road. Through the mountain passes, and onward to Ghastly Gorge. I tore through the bogs of the Everfree forest and into the familiar streets I had once called home. Ponyville. I ran past my mother’s shop and into the blacksmith’s, where I was met by the biggest, happiest blue eyes smiling back at me.

This was it. This was for what I had been searching for so long.
So close, and yet so far away. . . So different, and yet, so familiar.

Finally. I was home.

Author's Note

Well how exciting is this! I never thought I'd be sharing my first ~~halfway decent~~ MLP fic. :twilightblush:

I've never written about ponies before (at least, not since I was a kid), so I very likely did a lot of things wrong. My style probably needs some work as well. If y'all don't mind sparing a little CC, it would be such a huge help to this aspiring fanwriter. ^^

The characters mentioned are: Penn Flair, Chip Pathfinder, and Scratch Weathervane, all of whom are my very own.