Fallout Equestria: Petrichor

I am still not sure why I walked on. You know how easy it would've been to just lay down and accept my fate? Finally give in to the needs of my aching body, cracked hooves, dirt in my eyes... if that was dirt, and not some fancy medical term I didn't know. I could barely see, so I kept my head low as I walked. Only things that could inform me of any danger were my ears - well, ear. The right one was a bloody mess, from what I could feel, hanging limply at the side of my head. The blood had clotted, thankfully, so I didn't have to deal with more irritating things in my eyes - a small comfort in the otherwise pool of distressing, depressive things that made me a dead stallion walking.

But I still marched, past the grey and brown, regardless of the pain in my body. That was, until a new sensation hit me. A small, wet speck landing somewhere on my neck. Then another. Lifting my head, I tried to squint through the haze in my vision, only to get yet another drop of what I assumed to be water right below one of my eyes. Apparently I had grown so numb that I hadn't noticed the subtle changes in the weather - mainly, the temperature drop or the slight wind. Guess the Equestrian skies had decided I needed to clean up, and was now trying to give me an involuntary shower. This was a mixed blessing. My body would not enjoy the cold water, and I was aware that I was going to be freezing in a few minutes. On the other hoof, I'd be the cleanest I had been in weeks, maybe months. With luck, my eyes would be able to open up again if I stayed in the rain for while.

But the biggest perk of it all, was that my chasers wouldn't be able to track me so easily. Nor would they risk chasing after me, if this was going to be a storm. Nopony was foolish enough to brave a storm just for one stallion - or at least, that's what I hoped. If I kept moving through the rain, I'd gain some distance. Possibly lose my pursuers, if the rain washed my tracks away completely.

But was I willing to risk my health for that? Would I survive through it, with my condition? Huffing, I allowed my head to slump down again, as I continued on with my march. It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. I was dead if they caught me, so stopping was not an option. Not unless I could find a spot where I could safely rest without any fear of being caught unprepared. Something in me absolutely refused to just stop and let them catch me, even if I had wanted to. The dirt below my hooves started to turn into a muddy slush, making my trek even harder, staining my coat further. I couldn’t even remember when I last had been actually clean. Probably when I had been a foal.

While walking through the rain and grey landscape, my mind started to wander to my foalhood. It had been rather average, considering what the Wasteland is like. Born to a family that was busy making foals, in the hopes at least some of us would survive and help with the little town we lived in. Not the best place, the farms were barely keeping us alive, and getting water wasn't always safe. The bigger and tougher you were, the better - guess that is why they named me Jackpot, being born as a rather big foal. I was the biggest of my siblings, and started early on working in the fields - I remembered the harness digging into my hide as I plowed the radiated dirt, the praise of the elders as I managed to pull things stallions twice my age wouldn't be able to. Those were, despite harsh conditions, happier times. Simpler times. Work hard for something better. Something that mattered, even if it was for a small group. Even while walking forward, a small smile appeared on my muzzle at those memories. My bulk and strength had been used for good. Unlike what had happened a few years later...

No, don't think about what happened next. Don't think of the attack. I shook my head, trying to banish those thoughts. I had to keep on moving forward and leave those things behind. I wasn’t sure how long I had walked, as my thoughts had wandered off. I tried opening my eyes again a bit more to survey the surrounding areas. Through the blurry vision, I was able to tell there were some sort of structures around. Demolished, mostly. I couldn't hear or see anything alive in there, but then again my senses weren't their best at that moment.

Weighing my options, I finally decided to walk into one of the more intact buildings. While I was sure I could still push on a bit, the cold had started to seep into my bones - I wanted out of the rain. And this was probably the best place to rest in for miles, as long as I could hide myself in here somewhere. Not that I could find a proper hide hole with how I was right now - but maybe if I went into the furthest corner of this little... shack? It seemed like a shack. It was too dark to tell much of anything else, so I closed my eyes and decided to only rely on scent and touch.

Slowly, I walked forward in the shelter, careful with my hooves - testing what I was stepping on before placing any of my weight on it. I could tell this place had wooden floors - judging from the creaking and subtle way it moved beneath my weight. Probably rotten and stained by age, but I was still surprised no one had ripped these out for campfire purposes. Felt like hours, but surely it had been only minutes at best, before my hoof tapped against something soft. I tensed, for a second thinking it was another pony, but the lack of movement and sound made me relax again. Placing my muzzle down, I sniffed at the thing - concluding it must've been a mattress. Which set off another type of alarm bells in my head. Someone must've lived here. But where were they now? Any sensible creature would've hidden from the rain - unlike me, I realized - and ran back to their homes. Not wanting to be a bad house-guest (well, worse house-guest, considering I had just barged in unannounced), I moved away from the mattress. It was probably not my best decision, but I had to find a corner to lay down in. The mattress would've been softer, of course, but it was not my home. And intruding wasn't something I wanted to do, nor was giving bad impressions right off the bat in case the pony living here was a friendly.

My muzzle bumped softly against the wall, as I finally found the corner. Moving slightly, shifting, I pressed my side against it, and slumped down. I was numb all over, not sure how I actually felt under all the cold, wet, and aching... well, everything. I could say something cliched about my vision blacking out - if I had been able to keep my eyes open at all to begin with. Laying my head down on the floorboards, I pressed my hooves against my stomach and chest, ignoring the pain around the wrist areas, the spots where there had been chains long ago, as they got in touch with the solid floor. I am not quite sure if I did anything else, if I'm completely honest, as my mind was finally done with my stubborn decisions of moving on without any sort of rest whatsoever. What I do remember is how I hadn't even tried to get into more comfortable position before I fell into a deep slumber - which I was sure to regret next time I'd wake up. Little did I know, that my decision to lay down in this very shack was going to change my life. For the better.