Swift Wanderings

I awoke the next morning to the sound of birds tweeting. The sun was visible, so it was probably around eleven in the morning. Fun how injuries force you to rest up sometimes, even if you don’t want to.I changed the dressings on my wounds, and put the sling back on.

If I was going to be here for a while, the best thing to do would definitely be to build some kind of permanent shelter. I looked around, trying to decide what to build. Any kind of upright hut was a no-go, as there were no large enough trees, and even a smaller one would be to much for me to handle in my weakened state.

As I limped along, I noticed that my coordination was a bit wonky. I’d stumble for no reason, and I even fell a few times. Even though I hadn’t eaten anything since last night, I was nauseous.

I’d forgone breakfast, reasoning that while I did need the calories, it wouldn’t do me any good to immediately lose them because of an upset stomach, right? Instead, I just had a sip or two of water.

After I tripped over nothing for the fifth time, I admitted defeat and turned back towards camp. I was exhausted, so I had a quick snack of some dried apricots, rolled over, and fell asleep immediately.

***

It was incredibly late when I woke up. The moon was out, and the stars were beautiful. I shivered as a gentle breeze caressed my long coat.
Why am I so cold?

I yawned drowsily, and fell back asleep, unable to focus on the thought for long.

***

It was mid afternoon when I woke up again. The bright light burned my eyes. I groaned.

Stupid Sun.

I tried to get up, but my legs trembled and collapsed. Despite the warm day, I shivered. It was so cold and I didn’t know why. I sluggishly made my way over to my saddlebags, and pulled out a roll of cloth.

I clumsily changed the dressings on my wounds, and crawled into my tent to sleep. I pulled out my thick winter quilts and rolled myself up in them, shivering violently.

I’d never felt anything like this before, and it worried me.

***

Joy was quietly knitting. She was sitting by the window, watching rain pour from the skies. She’d been listening to a new musical named Hamareton, for some inspiration. A blue magic turned the dials, finally settling on a specific channel. This had only happened once before, and that time it was a test.

The channel it had settled on was for emergency broadcasts.

Good evening, fillies and gentlecolts. My name is Soarin’ and for those of you who are unaware, I’m the head of the Wonderbolts’ Search-and-Rescue Department. As all of you know, there was a fire in the forest at the foot of the Smokey Mountain, by Ponyville. If somepony you know was in the area, and you are unsure if they are safe, please send us a letter with both a description and detailed sketch or image of the pony involved.
Even if you are just the tiniest bit worried, please send us a letter. We’d rather have a million false alarms than miss anypony in need. To make sure that we don’t miss any, all the letters regarding this must be sent in a red envelope.

If a letter not regarding this cause is sent in a red envelope, the pony in question will receive a lifetime ban from Wonderbolts shows.

I understand that this may seem excessive, but we do not want a pony to die because a fan wanted to be sure that their letter was read.

Please send all letters regarding this matter to P.O. Box 187, 702 Cumulonimbus Rd, Cloudsdale, Equestria, 24564. Again, that is P.O. Box 187, 702 Cumulonimbus Rd, Cloudsdale, Equestria, 24564.

This is Soarin’ of the Wonderbolts, signing off.

Stay safe.

Joy dropped what she was doing. The knitting needles fell to the floor as she dashed across the room to a writing desk on the other side.

She rifled through a drawer of envelopes, finally finding a little red one. It was squished at the bottom of a drawer, and very dusty. She blew it off, and began to write a letter.

Her quill scratched across the page, quickly spelling out words.

Dear Wonderbolts.

This is for Swift Traveling. She was going on a bit of an adventure, and supposed to be in the area. She’s very short, only a bit taller than your average foal. Enclosed are several sketches and a picture of us together. She’s the black-and-white one in the green hat. Please make sure she’s safe.

-Artful Joy (Joy)

She sealed the envelope, and wrote the address on it.

“Please be okay.”

***

When I woke up again, I couldn’t even tell what time it was. I was sweating profusely, but still shivering. My teeth were chattering, and my throat hurt.
My tongue was dry; I was definitely dehydrated. I’d probably throw it up, as that’s what I’d done with the sips I’d taken from before. Still, I tried to get up, and reach my saddlebags, but my traitorous legs collapsed underneath me. I started laughing hysterically.

I’m going to die.

***

Soarin’ stood up, and shook his coat, fur brushing smoothly over the inside of his uniform. Not two hours after he’d made that announcement, letters had flooded in from all over. He had at least thirteen verified missing pony cases, and about five more that were worth checking out.

He pulled on his goggles, and looked over the rest of his team. Most were weighed down with saddlebags of supplies, while two pulled a chariot with a unicorn in it. The unicorn, a small mare by the name of Paw Print, was the best tracker around.

He signaled to his team, and they took off. It would be a three-hour flight, so best not delay. They settled into formation, flying steadily.

***

I lay on the floor of my tent. It was so cold in here. I was buried in every blanket I had, and still shivering. My breath rasped in my chest as I coughed, and my stomach growled. I slept badly, in fifteen-minute snatches. My eyes quickly grew tired, but I still couldn’t sleep properly, even if I needed the energy.

Weaky, I flipped open my saddlebags. I grabbed a few apple slices, and began to chew on them.

My stomach rebelled, and I threw up onto the cloth floor of my tent. I heaved pathetically for a few moments, and then flopped loosely onto my pile of cushions.

I drifted in and out of consciousness. There were moments when I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming, everything seemed fluid as I sank further and further into a fevered haze.