Day 1

The meadow was peaceful as the early morning sun spread its rays down to illuminate the world below it, cresting over the snow capped mountains that bordered the valley. The long, lush grass swayed gently as a light breeze brushed along the surface, bringing with it the light scent of wildflowers and damp earth, signalling that the time of year was early spring. The few trees that dotted the landscape were alive with activity as the inhabitants that made their homes in between the leaves and roots began to rise with the dawn’s light.

One such inhabitant had left its nest and was soaring overhead in search of its next meal when it noticed an indent within the unblemished sea of veridian. Its curiosity piqued at this unusual occurrence, it approach this small hollow in the grass. As it approached from overhead, a silhouette could be barely made out lying curled up on the ground, sleeping peacefully, and the occasional soft snore could be heard coming from it. As the bird fluttered its wings to land roughly onto a nearby patch of grass, more of the details within the hollow became discernible.

The creature in the center of it all appeared to be a strange thing indeed; it had feathers and wings on its sides, but they looked far too insignificant to lift the bulk of the creature. Off of the main section of the creature were four long appendages that ended in stumps, with no claws to speak of to let it hold onto the tree’s thinner branches. It lacked any tail feathers, and instead had this weird string like thing that had spread out all over the ground as it slept, which would not help it fly at all. But the most confusing thing about it to the little bird was its head. It lacked any beak for digging up grubs or eating seeds, and instead had a peculiar curved snout that looked completely impractical for eating purposes, and two enormous eyes that looked to be far to big for its head. Two huge pointy things came off the top of its head, and more of that stringy stuff from its tail ran down the back of its head. Items of various shapes and colours that the avian couldn’t even begin to describe to itself lay scattered all around the creature.

The bird had never seen anything like it before. Wary, but still driven by an inquisitive desire to see more, the avian hopped off its perch and made its way cautiously towards the animal, taking care to not make any sudden moves and startle the thing, lest it be aggressive. The critter acknowledged the movement of the bird with a quick flick of the pointy thing from its head. The bird froze, its heart beating rapidly, not daring to move until it was sure it was not about to be lunged upon. The beast didn’t make a single motion afterwards, though, with the exception of the gentle rising and falling of its chest. After a few minutes of inactivity, the bird mustered up its courage and stood next to the critter, eyeing it up in more detail now that it was closer. It didn’t last long however, as the creature groaned as its face scrunched up and its wings twitched, signalling that its rest was over.

My slumber came to an abrupt end as I sensed something approaching me, years of practice living with irritating siblings and roommates who thought it would be funny to disturb my rest with some inane joke they thought was hilarious coming to my aid. It had been a long time since they had successfully pulled a fast one on me, and I wasn’t about to let that change anytime soon.

However, with the return of consciousness came the return of the senses, and on this morning I discovered that my least favourite sense was my ability to feel. It felt like I had just become well acquainted with a sledgehammer that was fond of foreheads and a roller-compactor that was fond of finishing up afterwards. My everything was killing me, and I would not have been surprised in the least should that statement be more literal than I intended. A groan ecked past my lips involuntarily as I tried to fight back the pain.

The sound of unstead feet scurrying quickly away from me helped to distract me from the pain and focus my thoughts on the reason as to why I had awoken in the first place.
“I swear to god, if that’s you, Kyle, I’m going to throw you out of the window and make sure you hit every balcony on the way down. I’m not in the mood for this crap.” I attempted to growl at him, hoping that it would dissuade him from pulling whatever asinine plan he had concocted, but in my pained and quasi-wakened state I think it came out more as a meek whimper. Still, it seemed to have had some modicum of success, because distinctly heard footsteps scampering away, followed by...wing...flaps?

Confused, I abandoned any notion of returning to my rest, the pain made sure of that, and attempted to push through the haze of sleep and open my eyes. I then blinked several times to clear the blurriness from my eyes. Then blinked several more times to make sure what I was seeing was actually there.

All around me, almost as far as the eye could see, was field. Not multiple fields, like one might expect to find in rural areas that farmers tended to, but just one singlar, expansive field, that dipped and rolled over the hills, travelling all the way to the mountains in the distance. With no references to compare to, I was completely unsure exactly how far away those mountains were. Although they appeared to be capped in white, so I assumed that they were on the larger side, as far as mountains go. A few trees that I had never seen before dotted the landscape sporadically, but aside from that, the field was empty. I couldn’t even discern were the edges of the field were. In the sky on the horizon and slowly shrinking, I could barely make out some kind of bird frantically trying to distance itself from me.

Someone must have slipped something into my drink. That or I have gone completely mad. And considering that I don’t drink, I don’t like my odds.

I began to rise from my resting spot, only to have my legs cave in underneath me, smashing my face against the ground and adding new pain to my already tired and sore body. I definitely felt that, so I’m not still dreaming. Chances of being sane are dwindling into the single digits, now…
I tried to stand once again, taking it slower this time. For some reason my legs felt like they were bending in the wrong direction, and I had to use my knuckles to keep myself from falling over again. I tried spreading my fingers out instead of balled up in a fist, but for some strange reason they refused to obey my commands. I was beginning to get worried that maybe I had been in a tragic skydiving accident where my parachute failed to deploy, and I somehow lived, but my limbs were mangled beyond repair. I dreaded what was to come, and I slowly raised my arms to get a proper look at how bad the damage was.

Creatures from the nearby trees were terrified of this new sound echoing across the plains, and they quickly gathered up what little food they had gathered and fled in abject terror from the horrid noise, a sound they were sure heralded a new predator had arrived in their peaceful little paradise.

“WHY AM I PINK?!?”

After several minutes of existential crisis over the fact that I was now one of the most gaudy, over the top colour in existence, and my masculinity was now in tatters, I began to calm down and get a proper look at myself. Glancing behind me, I noticed two wings across my...barrel...that twitched slightly when I tried to move them to confirm that yes, they were mine. It was the weirdest sensation as well, like a muscle on my back that had never even knew I had before, let alone used, suddenly tried to burst into action before failing miserably. Further along my barrel, I saw a lime green tail spread out over the ground, which I could only assume at this point was also attached to me.

Dear god I have to be the most tackily coloured thing in existence. Why? Why did this happen to me? It’ couldn’t have been a mild shade of pink, no, it has to be a hot pink as well. Why? Why? WHY?

Forgoing my current thoughts on the unfortunate colour scheme, I began sorting through all the information at my disposal. Awful pastel colours, wings, barrel, hooves...what the hell happened to me?

The splitting headache I was still experiencing was not helping me discern matters in the slightest, although it felt like the pain in my body was slowly fading away. I hoped. It could have just been the placebo effect because I really wanted the pain to stop. Glancing around for any distraction while I waited for the pain to alleviate, I noticed strips of what appeared to be ripped fabric in blues, blacks and whites scattered around me, and an old brown leather laptop bag not too far away. Confused by this discovery of being here with anything made of leather, I began crawling my way over to the bag; I was not going to attempt walking just yet, I would like my current headache to stop first before repeated visits to the ground introduced another one, thank you very much. I picked up the bag to examine its contents; an assortment of journals of varying sizes, a handful of pencils, a few quills, some ink bottles, a flask of water and an apple. It looked like a stereotypical student’s school bag...if said student lived in the nineteenth century.

With my head full of more questions than answers, I turned my attention to the strips of cloth scattered around me. Thankfully, the answer to this mystery was far more straightforward than the bag. The strips were what remained of my clothing that I remembered I was wearing. I was a little upset at how my clothes had been treated by whatever it was that had sent me here, but there wasn’t exactly a whole lot I could do about it. It’s not like I could currently wear them presently, after all.

I sighed as I contemplated my situation. I would imagine that most people in my position would be in complete hysteria at this highly unusual situation. And I was contemplating very seriously about having a breakdown right then and there, but that would not have helped the situation I found myself in. The first thing I had to do is find shelter, and following that, hopefully find somebody that could tell me where I am, and then I will figure out what to do from there.

I collected the bag, hoping that it might lead to some clue as to what the hell had happened to me, maneuvered it with some difficulty over my shoulders, and took off in the opposite direction of the mountains. Well, I attempted to, anyway. What actually happened was I took two steps and planted my face back into the dirt. Spitting out some soil, I wobbled to my feet...hooves...unsteadily, placing my feet cautiously and carefully, one in front of the other. I managed to make it five steps before I repeated the action of face-in-dirt.

This was going to be a looooooong day…

I must have been walking for hours by now, if the sun slowly sinking across the sky was any indication. My feet...hooves...it’ll take a while to think of them like that...my hooves where killing me. Whatever cruel god put me so far away from literally anything had a sadistic sense of humour, clearly. I had eventually figured out an effective, if rudimentary and strange way of walking. I wasn’t quite comfortable in moving faster than a slow walk, but I hadn’t greeted the ground for several hours at least, so I at least had that going for me.

I had found a quaint little stream weaving its way across the landscape a little while ago, and I had decided to follow it downstream, hoping to find a larger river to follow, which would hopefully lead into signs of civilization. I think that’s what the survival guides said to do anyway. If it was upstream, I was totally screwed. It was lucky that I found it, regardless, as the water flask was completely empty now. Not because I drank it all, but rather I hadn’t successfully put the lid on as securely as I had thought, which was made evident when I had tripped once again and found myself a tad soggier than before.

But I digress.

With my gait steady for now and a somewhat rudimentary plan that I could follow, my mind was left to wander. Questions like ‘how did I get here? What about my family, do they think I’m dead? If I manage to get back, would all of my stuff be sold to pay the bills and a new tenant be living in my apartment?’ all crossed my mind. Questions I’m sure many an involuntary interdimensional traveller has had cross their minds.

I had obviously lost track of time, as I was drawn back to reality by the sudden realisation that is was quite a bit harder to see where I was putting my hooves now. See? I’m getting better at my vocabulary already.

I was incredibly weary by the day’s unusual activities, as I was usually not one that turned into a horse and trekked across the countryside for a day, and decided to turn in for the night. Thankfully, the weather was mild enough that sleep wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. I pulled out the apple from my bag, having become rather adept at maneuvering my head into it by this point. I ate quickly, although I was pleasantly surprised at the crispiness of the apple; it wasn’t exactly better from the apples at home, but very few apples could compare.

I hoped that I found shelter and civilisation soon. I would much rather eat another one of these delicious apples than have to find out exactly what grass tastes like.

Day 3

Grass tastes awful. I hate it.

Day 5

The stream I had been following had thankfully converged into a larger river finally. I was beginning to believe that I had made a miscalculation. I didn’t have much of a river to follow for long, however, as on the horizon, growing in scale as I drew nearer, was an absolutely colossal lake, that spread to almost the horizon in each direction. Hundreds of other rivers, some far larger and some significantly smaller than the one I was following, barely being able to be classified as streams, fed into it. I would have thought it was the ocean had it not been for what appeared to be a distant forest on the far side of the shore, with only a faint line of green visible to even indicate that it existed. I felt my heart soar with hope; surely I was nearing some form of civilisation, and this was the most likely place it would be. I quickened my pace as much as I was able to, eager to make it to the water’s edge.

The water itself was also pristine and crystalline, and I could clearly see some very small and colourful fish that I had never seen before swimming around in lazy circles. The surface itself was serene, with not a ripple to disturb its smooth surface. But as I cast my gaze to the shores, my heart began to sink as I came to a realisation: there was nobody else here.

No fishing boats sailed through the water, no abodes dotted the shoreline, no roads were laid around it. It was almost as if I was the first person to ever set foot here. I could feel my emotions beginning to bubble over; fear, anger, worry, all things that I had been fighting down the last few days, sure of finding something, anything, found their way to the forefront of my mind. I could only maintain my confidence for so long, before the realisation that I was still very much lost in an unknown world crashed down upon me. It finally felt real to me. Tears began to well up in my eyes, a mockery to the beauty presented to me, and the dam of emotions that I had suppressed until I found help broke, and I began to let my emotions finally flow free. I cried out in frustration to the heavens, terrifying the nearby fauna, before my knees buckled and I collapsed to the floor, not caring as the bag slipped off my shoulder and spilled its contents upon the ground.

I do not know for how long I lay there weeping, but the sun had well and truly set by the time exhaustion took me, and I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Day 6

I groaned as I awoke, feeling no more rested than I had the day before. I rolled onto my back, not caring how dirty it made my coat, and stared listlessly at the sky. My stomach growled angrily at me, demanding attention, but I paid it no mind as I blankly watched the clouds roll over head.

I was at a loss. I had no idea what to do now. I had been walking for days with no signs of help on any horizon, and it seemed that my journey so far had brought me no closer to rescue than when I had first started. What am I supposed to do now? Check each river to see if a town or settlement was on one of them? That would be impossible, there are simply too many. Wait for rescue? It seems as though there was nothing here. I could very well be the only person for hundreds of miles, and no one even knows I’m missing. I highly doubt help is coming. And there still isn’t much here I can use for shelter, or proper food.

I rolled my head to the side, closing my eyes while trying to piece together what to do next. I was unsure as to how long I lay there, but I eventually opened my eyes when I felt something...tugging at me. That was the only way I could describe it. It was extremely faint, more of a phantom feeling than anything, like that feeling you get when you think you’re being watched, and if it wasn’t for the fact that I had been laying still for so long, not focusing on anything, I don’t think I would have ever felt it.

I opened me eyes to look around, but I could not see anything that could have caused it. Mentally shrugging that it was just my exhausted imagination, I returned to my turbulent thoughts. After only a few more minutes, however, I felt it once more, stronger this time, but still incredibly faint. I once again looked around me, but I still didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Putting my previous thoughts aside for now, I stood back up, but this time, I focused on that feeling. It was progressively getting stronger now, although if my concentration slipped I would lose it, and it would take me a moment to find it again.

The feeling itself was more discernible now; it felt like a part of me was being nudged in a certain direction, but not forcefully, almost like if some just tapped your shoulder to point something out at you. Curious as to what it might be, I opened my eyes and turned away from the lake, to see a wall of ominous grey sweeping across the landscape, blocking out the sun entirely.

The storm did not look friendly, if the sparks that danced between the clouds where anything to go by. Already I could see that several lightning strikes had struck the ground, causing small fires that were luckily doused by the torrential rain that was being deposited by the clouds. It was, to put it frankly, not a storm you wanted to be caught out in. It was thankfully a faint line on the horizon, but it was growing in size rapidly.

I looked around for something I could use for shelter, but aside from a few trees that were nowhere near adequate to stave off the storm’s fury, there was nothing. The storm itself looked to be a few hours away still, at least, so it gave me some time, but to do what? There wasn’t any shelter I could head towards, and even if I had several days to build my own, I doubt I would be skilled enough to make it secure enough for a storm like this.

I started to panic. I was not prepared for this at all, and I wasn’t entirely confident in my chances of plowing through that storm. My eyes darted everywhere, searching for anything I might have been able to use, though it was an exercise of futility.

I turned away from the storm to gaze at the lake that had become the wall I was backed up against, when my gaze fell upon the forest, barely visible, on the other side. My eyes widened slightly as I came to the realisation that I could very well find the shelter I seek between the trees. The only problem was; there was a gigantic body of water between me and shelter, and I wasn’t exactly confident that even if I figured out how to swim in the next five minutes that I would make it to the other side before I am swept away by the tempest behind me.

Just as my hope died with that idea, a fierce gust of wind blew from behind me, sending me stumbling a few feet forward, right to the water’s edge. I nearly was knocked completely off my feet, but thankfully my wings seemed to work on their own accord, instinctually opening up to help steady my balance. I was thankful from the near miss save, when it struck me like lightning.

I was a pegasus.

Why did I not think of that before?! I could fly across! Granted, I hadn’t flown before, and maybe flying with stormy weather inbound wasn’t the best idea in the world, but it sure beats trying to sit through a storm with gusts of wind that can literally knock me off my feet...hooves.

With a plan decided, it was time to set it in motion. I screwed up my face in determination, and flapped open my wings.

Only to have them lay still on my back, barely twitching as I tried to move them.

I seriously don’t have time for this…

Several hours later...

I groaned as another landing of mine ended less gracefully than I had anticipated; namely, I landed on my face instead of my hooves. I came in too sharply and didn’t slow down enough. Again. Inspecting myself for any damages, I was thankful to see that I was now covered in so much muck that I looked more brown than pink for the first time in days. And I wasn’t seriously injured, just a few superficial bruises here and there, but the not being pink was the main thing. The darkening skies overhead signalled that the storm was closing in, and that I should probably get a move on if I wanted to beat the storm

I brushed myself off and returned to my take off position for one final test flight, when a strong blast of icy wind blew me completely off my hooves, sending me straight into the lake. The gale had knocked the wind straight out of me, and I was not prepared for the water that entered my lungs in its stead. As I became submerged in the cold, dark water, I felt terror grip me as I continued to sink further and further down, with my efforts to return to the surface bearing no fruit. I couldn’t swim. I kicked and twisted in vain, trying desperately to return to the air I needed, but it was no use. Nothing I did changed the direction gravity seemed hell bent on me travelling. Down.

I was starting to feel a little light headed, which I knew was probably a sign that if I didn;t get to air soon, my journey would be over before it truly began. I renewed my attempts at doing something, anything, to get me back up. This was not the way I wanted to die. Just when I began to think that maybe what I wanted didn’t mean anything to the universe at large, I felt my back hoof connect with something solid. Desperately, I kicked with all my strength, which was waning every so steadily. After a few more seconds, my forehoof connected with the ground as well, and I pulled myself further along, hoping that I was pulling myself to the shore and not deeper into the depths.

My vision was beginning to falter; I didn’t have much time left. Once my feet connected with the ground again, I knew I only had one last good kick left in my before it was all over. I felt my feet make contact with the ground one last time, and with the last of my strength, I pushed.

Just before my vision could fade to black, I felt my head burst free of the water. I heaved myself up onto the shoreline, coughing and sputtering, trying to get the water out of my lungs, and never having been so grateful to oxygen as I was just now. My legs collapsed underneath me, unable to hold my weight any longer. With my body now soaked in water, I felt like a weighed significantly more than I did before, and I felt the chilling bite of the wind far more keenly. It wasn’t as cold as I would have expected it to be, but it was a rather unpleasant feeling.

I lay there for several minutes, waiting for the coughing to subside. I glanced back at the storm; it was almost upon me now, and the blasts of wind were coming in more and more frequently. I looked over at the other side of the lake, to the forest. That’s a very long way to fly. I could only stay in the air for a maximum of ten minutes when practicing, and if I fall, there is no chance of a rescue or help. I looked at the lake and shuddered. And that’ll be the end of me.

I turn my attention to the storm approach, debating if I should just wait it out and hope for the best. As I watched it, however, I saw an unusually large hailstone form, probably about the size of my head. How I saw it from this far away, I would have to look into at a later time, but nevertheless, I saw its trek across the sky, on a collision course to one of the few solitary trees in the area. I watched in shock and mild horror as the hailstone cut a swath of destruction through the tree, ripping off branches and leaves before slamming into the dirt like a cannonball, spraying dirt skywards. The tree was quickly finished off by a streak of lightning, setting it ablaze. Even as I stood there in surprise, more hailstones of similar size started raining from the heavens. It was almost as if something could see that I was debating on waiting it out and turned the storm on maximum overdrive. That, or the storm was worse than I first thought.

Whatever the case, it was no longer up for debate. If even one of those hailstones hit me, it’s lights out. My coat had somewhat dried by now, even if I still weighed more than I should have, but I was going to have to risk it. I felt a strong gust of wind, not as strong as the last blast that had swept me off my hooves, but sending a shiver down my spine nonetheless. Hopefully I could make it to the other side without much interference; my flying was already incredibly sketchy at best.

I picked up the satchel and slung it over my shoulder, preparing for liftoff. As I flapped my wings I felt that odd sensation of something flowing to my wings that accompanied every take off. I would have to look into what that was exactly later. My hooves slowly left the ground as I continued to flap, and I slowly tilted myself forward, slowly moving across over the water.I looked down and almost faltered and froze as terror gripped me once more. Cold. Need air. Dark. Can’t see. Can’t breathe. Weight all around me. Pressing in...I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts from my mind, quickly flapping my wings harder to put as much distance between me and the water as possible.

I pushed all other thoughts aside, focusing purely on the motion and feeling of my wings. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. It wasn’t the smoothest flight, and I’m sure someone could probably point out to me how inefficient I was doing it and if I just changed x y z I would find flying far easier, but right now, I was just happy it got the job done.

Several minutes flew by, and the trees on the horizon were getting larger and starting to take shape. I must have made it past the halfway mark by now, and I was beginning to tire. Just a little bit further…

The trees were inching closer ever so slowly, but even as they did, I felt my strength fading. This flight was easily already twice as long as my previous test flights, but it wasn’t enough. Even as I struggled to stay airborne, I saw the lake underneath me slowly get closer as my altitude dropped. I wasn’t about to give up yet though. Searching for any strength in my reserves, I pushed myself even harder, feeling my wing muscles burn as I raised myself a few meters once more...but that was it. That was my strength expended. All I could do now is try and keep myself airborne long enough to reach the shore as I slowly continued my controlled fall. I was quite high up, higher than I had ever dared in practice, and the other shore looked like it was within gliding range. I hoped.

However, that hope was dashed as time went on. I could see that I was going to be a fifty meters or so off the shore, which was far too far away for my liking. Panic had me in its grip once more. In an adrenaline fueled panic, I tried to speed myself up, hoping against hope that it would be enough to get me there. It wasn’t enough. I made very little difference in distance, and the lake was getting dangerously close now; I was barely several centimeters above it.

Just when I was about to collide with the water, however, the storm came to my rescue with a mighty gust of wind. With my wings outstretched, I was able to catch the wind underneath my feathers and glide safely to the other side, landing with pose and elegance. That’s what I’d like to say happened anyway.

What actually happened was my wings caught the full blast that I was completely unprepared for, and I was tossed like a living skimming stone across the water’s surface. I felt one of my wings bend at an odd angle, and the audible snap followed by the most excruciating pain than I had ever felt was not a good sign at all. I tried to cry out in pain, but was swiftly silenced as I was slammed into a tree trunk, my breath being completely knocked out of me, pain screaming all throughout my body as I felt a rib crack.

I lay there in tears, the pain from my wing and chest almost unbearable. I don’t know how long I lay there, but it was long enough that when I looked up, I saw that the storm was closing in yet again. I was not ready to move, but I knew that if I didn’t that I would not be safe. Struggling to my hooves, my left wing hanging limply on my side, and hissing as I put pressure onto my front right hoof, I turned around and hobbled into the undergrowth, looking for something, anything, I could use as a place to escape the storm and treat my wounds.

After about an hour or so, I wasn’t exactly sure, I came across a large rock formation covered in moss, with a small opening in between them. I had a quick look to see if anything else had taken up residence, but thankfully it looked unclaimed. I barely managed to crawl in before promptly passing out from the pain and exhaustion.

Author's Note

So this is my first story. I had one that I started when I was like fourteen on this site, so that one doesn't count. I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while now; it was originally supposed to be a short prequel to my main story idea, but the more I thought about it, the more ideas I had come to me, and the more complex this idea grew, until I was like "stuff it, let's make this and see how it goes."

Criticism is appreciated and duely noted. Unless of course, it's negative criticism. This is the internet, after all, how could I ever hope to cope with a harsh comment? Such things never happen to anyone on the internet. Ever. Period. It's a myth.