One hoof after another.

He limped down the dirt track, his scar tissue making it awkward to move his hind left leg. The few passing cart ponies hardly batted an eye at the young stallion. They’d seen enough soldiers returning home from the war to care.

One hoof after another

He forced himself on through the summer heat. Each step kicked up a cloud of dust, coating his scarlet tunic in yet another layer of grime.

One hoof after another.

Each step, his bugle bounced on his withers. Bar his uniform, it was the only thing he was issued with he was allowed to keep. Its tarnished brass reflecting the summer sun.

One hoof after another.

Looking up, he spotted a junction ahead. A small stone humped back bridge ahead or carry along the current path, he pondered.

One hoof after another.

As he reached the junction, a mare hauling a cart behind her passed. Waving, he staggered over to her.

“Marechester?” he stammered.

She silently nodded towards the bridge. Without speaking a word, she resumed pulling her cart knocking him back.

One hoof after another.

The indoor market was bustling, the cries of each vendor trying to be heard over the other. Cabbages, eggs, carrots, apples, nuts and various other foods were being sold and bartered for. Many wives and daughters toiled through the market, bartering or haggling for enough food to survive the week.

Lilly Lee dragged her heavy basket through the thronging crowds, laden with produce pressing into her azure fur. With her last purchase, she pushed through the crowded market onto the street. Walking through the streets of the new city, the sight of poverty was everywhere.

Women of ill repute, beggars, and the jobless cluttered the streets of Marechester. Their shouts just flowing into the general ambiance of the main throughways. Sidestepping them, Lilly eventually made her way to the more residential streets. Small dirty terraced housing crowded the narrow streets, washing lines hanging across the street. Passing increasingly familiar faces, she turned a corner into a ginnel using it as a short cut to her own, small, grubby street.

Seeing she was on the home straight, Lilly picked up her pace. Weaving past a few colts too young to work, she finally reached her house. Pausing to take a breath, she pushed the door open entering the front parlour.

“Rose? ROSE! Come her and help me”

Her shout was shortly accompanied by a clattering of hooves in the kitchen. Stepping in, Rose was carrying a foal in a sling across her front. Both sporting fur similar in colour to Lilly herself.

“It’s no mither, mother”, Rose gently replied, assisting with moving the goods, “been watching em pies in the oven. Ought to be enough time for nother batch fore shift out at the mills”

“Good. Get shifting, sooner we put these away sooner we can get the next batch ready”

The clattering of the mechanised looms, rumbling of the belt feeds, the rumbling of the drive shafts and shuffling of products dominated the room, and the dozen other identical rooms across the mill. Dark and damp, various ponies manned the hundreds of looms within while others trotted all over.

A scream cuts through the noise, with only a few stallions looking over while majority just carry on with their work. Those next to source of the noise move over to assist, a Pegasus whom had managed to get his left wing caught within the loom’s mechanism. Harrowing screams continued to echo as they tried to remove the stallion from the still active mechanisms. Finally, they drag him out of the room with his wing torn off. Sinews of muscle and flesh hang limply at the base of what was his wing, blood streaming down his side and onto the floor.

Moonstone Lee winced as he saw the maimed Pegasus be dragged out. He had grown use to the near daily injuries that occurred at the mill, but it didn’t make it easier. Moonstone was just glad that it was only a wing, sure he’d never fly again however he’d manage and retain the ability to work.

Trying to stay focused, he continued to operate the loom he was stationed at. Unlike the Pegasus, if one of his indigo limbs got caught, he’d likely never work again condemning him and his family to being a cadge family.

“Daft ‘apeth” he muttered, giving the Pegasus one last thought.

One hoof after another.

He walks down the road. Slowly transitioning from a dirt track to cobble stone. Smoke rises in the distance. Marechester.

One hoof after another.

He walked uphill, hamlets and villages become more frequent as he walks onwards. Cresting a hill, he looks ahead. In the distance, he now can see Marechester itself in the distance.

One hoof after another.

He started to enter Marechester itself, the stench and smog assail his dulled sense of smell. Some parted to make his walking easier. While other times, he was assailed by cadges trying to take the last of his army wage.

One hoof after another.

He limped on, leaving the main throughways, passing ginnel after ginnel. Following the true streets, he passes row after row of terrace houses.

One hoof after another.

He stood before a plain wooden door. Shuffling on his hooves, the young stallion enters the house.

He was home.

Author's Note

___ Lee is based upon John Lee. In reality, John was not born to a poor family, but rather was a bastard son of a wealthy local Mill owner. He joined the army in 1812 and served with the Royal Artillery.

The change has been made here and in the Peterloo film to make it easier to incorporate him into the narrative.

Example of a 19th Century cotton loom. Vid
https://youtu.be/Rq9WMwn5lXg