The bright glow of light slowly swam into Withania’s vision. A warm light that soaked through her coat and into her skin, like her own sun positioned a few feet away. Clenching her eyes against the glare, she slowly peeked out and waited for her eyes to focus. Around her were the teal walls of Ponyville Hospital, and positioned over her was a bright lamp, the kind she would use in the nursery of her green house as a grow-light.

“Heeegh…” she croaked. “Hello?” It was quiet in the room, and she heard a shuffle from the hallway, followed by approaching hoofsteps.

“Ah, Miss Nightshade!” said a stallion’s voice. “I’m very relieved to see you awake!”

The speaker swam into Withania’s view, Doctor Greymare. Quite handsome, thought Withania, smiling in her fuddled brain. He looked at her up and down, before adjusting the lamp so the glare fell below her eyes.

“You gave everyone quite a fright. And then a surprise. And then a puzzle.”

“The bridge is broken…” murmured Withania. “Someone might get hurt on the hoofrail…”

“Umm… Well, you got hurt on the bridge. Quite badly… How do you feel?” While he waited for her to respond, the doctor began to inspect Withania up and down, moving her legs slightly, poking at her muscles with a pencil to see where she tensed up.

“My… my stomach feels odd.”

“That sounds about right, Withania,” said Doctor Greymare. “You suffered a very serious injury there. But when we got you to the hospital, we discovered that you’re- that you- you’re quite unique.”

“Oh, yes. That.”

Withania gingerly pushed the bedsheet down low enough to see the jagged line where her body had been pierced through. She felt light, hollow, as if part of her was missing. Part of it was the absence of the nectar that filled her stomach, but deep down she somehow knew that the damage was more severe. She didn’t meet eyes with Doctor Greymare, but she could see the way he was looking at her from the corner of her vision and knew what he was thinking - were it not for her strange new plant nature, she would be dead.

“You should keep your medical records up to date, Withania. It would be nice to know in advance that your body is somehow a plant. We are at somewhat of a loss of how to treat you, but I’ve sent messages to a few colleagues who have some experience in these fields. You actually would have been my first choice, were you not the patient!”

“How long have I been uh… asleep?”

“About a day. I would say that it’s incredible that you’ve regained consciousness so soon, but the truth is that I think the only reason you blacked out at all is from shock. You didn’t lose consciousness from the severity of your wounds, you fainted. Your body seems to be completely unaffected by your injury.”

Withania moved her joints experimentally under the bedsheet. She was a little bit stiff, however this seemed more as a result of sleeping for a day. She swiveled her legs out, gingerly stood up next to the bed and felt… fine. The empty sensation was more noticeable now, as she had grown used to the strange water weight she usually carried around, she definitely knew that part of her body was significantly damaged, but there was no pain, no aches, or even loss of sensation.

“Well, I appreciate your help, Doctor,” she said, absently brushing her mane roughly into place. “But before the accident on the bridge I was on my way to Princess Twilight’s castle to get aid for my… disposition, and I think that might be the best place for me right now. Do you mind if I check myself out?”

Doctor Greymare looked at her critically and sighed.

“It troubles me to see a patient leave with unknown ailments, Miss Withania, but I have to admit that your body is quite outside my wheelhouse at this point. My concern is that while we’ve stitched you up, that wound isn’t something that you can just walk off. I’d point out that you can’t eat in this condition, but after looking over you, I’m not even sure if that’s a problem?”

“I… have a solution to this, but it’s a little weird and I’d rather not burden you with it. I promise to check in with you in the next day or so though, ok?”

“I would stop you, if you hadn’t said you were going to see the Princess. That’s above my pay grade. Please please please do check in though - I’m not terribly comfortable with this, but I have neither the reason nor the power to stop you.”

“I will, I promise.”

Withania’s brain was coming back up to speed and recalling her train of thought the previous day. The more she remembered, the more determined she was to get back on track, get to Princess Twilight, take action.

She checked out at the front desk. The secretary said nothing out of the ordinary, but was clearly astonished to see Withania walking around as if nothing were the matter. It put thoughts into Withania’s head about how she might have looked on her way in. Impaled through her middle. They had probably cut off the section piercing her so the doctors could remove it at the hospital.

“Thank you,” said Withania, pushing these morbid thoughts out of her head. “I’ll be back for a check up in a few days.”

She left the hospital with due haste before slowing to a plod once she was on the path leading back into town. She felt lighter on her hooves with her stomach mostly mangled and empty, but also lacking in balance as a result. If such damage occurred to one of the plants in her garden, she wouldn’t hesitate to prune a clipping from it to replant and then compost the damaged portion. If she deliberately got herself eaten, she would regrow a new body again, undamaged.

Yesterday her mind had been absolutely made up about accepting whatever cure or treatment Twilight may have come up with, and had been on her way to get it - but now she was faced with the fact that she had endured two fatal situations in little over a month. The first with the timberwolf, now the accident on the bridge.

“I would be dead if not for turning into a plant,” she said aloud, stopping in her tracks.

Maybe I would not have been in those perilous situations in the first place if my life were taking an ordinary course, she reasoned. But this was speculation, the forest, the bridge, these were places she went on a regular basis. Well, so I survived, so what? That doesn’t mean I’m obligated to remain a plant.

Withania resumed her walk, now heading in the general direction of the Castle of Friendship. She still had the sample that she was supposed to give to Twilight, and it would be worth hearing out the Princess’ findings too. The day’s events had presented the idea to her that there were considerable advantages to her condition other than simply doing lewd things with her friends, but did she really want to be this oddity? This failed experiment? She’d made a modest name for herself as an experienced and skilled botanist - now she would be “that one pony who turned herself into a plant doing weird sex things.”

She groaned inwardly at this circular train of thought. When she looked up, the glittering towers of Ponyville’s crystal castle filled her vision. She pushed her dilemmas aside and butted the front door open with her head.

Immediately inside was the main hallway from which doors to rooms and stairs branched out, but in the centre stood a slender music stand with a neatly written note stating that Princess Twilight was out of town.

“All other enquiries, please see the librarian,” read Withania. Well, at least she could drop off the sample, even if she would have to wait for the Princess to return. She tempered her disappointment - once again it was not reasonable to expect the Princess of Friendship to be at her sole beck and call.

The library was bigger now, lacking the cosy charm of Ponyville’s beloved Treehouse, but gaining significantly more facilities. Withania hadn’t yet been here, but was pleasantly surprised by how bright and airy the room was. All things considered the interior of the castle seemed far too big for its external size.

“Good afternoon, I’ll be with you in a moment,” said a voice from the middle of the hall. Withania looked to the source and saw a unicorn behind a table at the foot of a tall pillar of bookshelves in the middle of the library. She was mostly obscured by the piles of books on the table, but Withania could see a midnight blue coat haloed by blond hair and a golden magical aura around her horn. Half a dozen books fanned out and slotted themselves into place on high up shelves.

Withania hadn’t seen this unicorn before, probably she’d moved in from Canterlot to help Twilight, another prissy city dweller, no doubt. The unicorn looked down and caught sight of Withania - and her expression immediately changed from demure to a knowing, almost smug, smile as she began to make her way over to the front desk.

Withania’s eyes widened as she saw that the unicorn was, in fact, at least twice the width of Withania and likely thrice her weight. Her belly hung low between her chubby legs while her flanks hid the frame of her body entirely with round curves ending in the globes of her hindquarters, which were emblazoned with a yellow insignia for some kind of screw clamp. Or a press. She had clearly anticipated Withania’s reaction because she walked with a practised fluidity that accentuated her form - her weight bobbed from side to side and her straw-coloured tail swished behind her.

Withania’s memories flashed back to some of her earliest experiences with her strange interests - a pink unicorn with a similar stature and a dominant personality to match. This unicorn emitted the same vibes, disarming her in an instant.

“My name is Paper Press,” said the unicorn, arriving at the front desk. “You must be Withania.”

“Uh, yes… how did-”

“Twilight told me to expect you. Regrettably, she had urgent business to attend to, but made me equally aware of your situation. You’re looking surprisingly well for a pony who was in a potentially fatal accident yesterday.”

“I feel like I should be considerably more distressed about this than I am. Yet I’m standing here like; ‘Oh look, another crazy thing this body does that I didn’t know about,’” said Withania despondently.

“Both Twilight and myself are very relieved that you’re okay,” said Paper Press. She walked out from around the front desk to inspect Withania more closely. “However, it looks to me like you’re not entirely unscathed?”

“It… it’s fine, I’ll figure something out. For now though, Zecora took a sample from my mane. She said that Princess Twilight would need it for something she’d been working on?”

“I’m sure we will,” remarked Paper Press, returning to her post behind the desk. “And yes, I can take the sample if you please…”

Withania took off her bag and fished out the bottle containing her mane-vine, which Paper Press lifted away with her magic. At the same time, she lifted from under the counter an apparatus that Withania instantly recognised from her childhood - a simple flower press. About the size of a typical book, it consisted of layers of cardboard and paper sandwiched between a sturdy wooden block and a sheet of thick glass, connected by a long screw in each corner and butterfly nuts to tighten down the screws and compress the assembly together.

Paper Press used her magic to unscrew all four fasteners simultaneously and lift away the glass cover, setting it aside as she opened the sample bottle.

“Truth be told, Twilight has spent more time studying your body’s anatomy, rather than seeking a cure, or treatment, per se. But she sees your frustration and now fully intends to pursue the latter, hence the sample.”

Paper Press arranged the length of vine onto the top-most sheet of paper before placing the glass and fasteners on top once again. She began to tighten them down, quickly winding down to the bite point before slowly beginning to add tension.

“A girl of your interests has seen one of these before, I assume?” she asked.

Withania was somewhat transfixed. She had loved to press flowers as a filly - for arts and crafts, but also because there was a certain allure to it her child couldn’t place - yet at some point she’d put away her press kit, never using it again, and she couldn’t say why. Her expression told Paper Press enough, at the very least. As the screws of the press were tightened, the sample was pressed flat, turning from a three-dimensional piece of Withania into a perfect image suspended under the glass, immobile and pinned in place, preserved on display.

“That should do it. I will see to it that this reaches the Princess as soon as she returns. Until then, I now have the chance to try my own treatment for you…”

Withania’s fixation on the press broke at hearing this, and her eyes snapped up to meet Paper Press’ large brown eyes that had never once stopped watching her. The large unicorn slowly sauntered out from behind the front desk, her immense curves bobbing in a perfect sinusoidal motion as she walked up to Withania.

“Princess Twilight brought me up to speed on everything, and quite frankly I think you and I are long overdue to be better acquainted,” she said, looming over Withania, “So let’s have a little chat, shall we?”

Author's Note

It's been... a while. This story has actually been planned to its conclusion for a very long time, but I was a little stuck on exactly how to execute this chapter, and generally wallowing in writer's block.

Finale is imminent. I'm looking to wrap this up fast because there's a lot of stuff that I've been like "no, I can't do this until Hay Fever is finished."

Stay hydrated, everyone!