The morning sun was too damn bright. Trixie groaned, blinking blearily as she sauntered over the hill with half-hearted hooves. She squinted, scarcely making out the slopes of hilltops against a burning horizon. There was grass. Lots and lots of wavy grass. And trees... maybe? Trixie couldn't see. If she tried staring for too long, she'd probably go blind. That would be a shame for her Great and Powerful Eyesight.
There were mountains, perhaps. Twin peaks? One peak? Trixie really, really should have brought sunglasses. Another few steps. Wildflowers and weeds struck her face. She trilled in annoyance, leaning back and rubbing her wincing muzzle. Nopony had gone out this far from the Equestrian mainland, so there was no sense in mowing the fields. Also, bugs. There were lots and lots of bugs. Trixie yelped, rubbing her fetlocks and struggling to peel a layer of skittering aphids off her limbs.
Oh no...
Her face scrunched.
Oh Goddess no... ... ...
Her mouth grimaced some more. She tilted her head up, sucked in breath, sucked in some more, and...
...she let out a Great and Powerful Sneeze.
Pollen and spores lit the air, forming a springy cloud that stung Trixie's reddening eyes. Insects, bothered by the commotion, flitted up into the air. Their buzzing aggravated the tinnitus in Trixie's fuzzy ears, and she started batting at ghosts... like a cat boxing at shadows.
A stifled whimper, and she side trotted to a slightly clearer portion of the hilltop. Huffing and puffing. Sweating. Sweating? Since when did ponies sweat before noon? That damned sunrise...
Trixie took several deep breaths.
She took several more.
At last, she calmed down. She stood tall and resolute. She didn't face the burning horizon now as much as she... generally aimed her rigid horn somewhat towards it. Maybe if she strafed most of the way, she could still go in a perfect cardinal direction.
There was a backpack clinging to her flanks. She reached in with a delicate hoof, rummaged around, and produced a map. A devilish smirk crossed her lips as she imagined reaching the very edge of recorded geography--
The wind tore the paper from her grasp.
She let out a little pony curse and flailed for the flyaway scrap with little pony hooves. After a fuzzy somersault, she victoriously wrestled the map to the ground. In so doing, however, she crushed a good portion of an ant hill. The map was now crawling all over with tiny red bugs--a dozen of which instantly bit her.
Hissing, Trixie stepped back from the whole mess, brushing at herself and shivering. She stomped her hoof to the ground and stood atop the hill with a fuming expression.
A flick of a pale tail.
And then...
...she turned east, clenched her eyes shut to the bright sun, and galloped as quickly as she could.
That's when a gopher hole tripped her.
Trixie fell flat on her great and powerful belly, wincing all over. She tugged and tugged and tugged and finally yanked her limb out from the hole. In so doing, she uprooted a chunk of grass and soil that flew upwards before raining down on her. She lay on her back, coughing and sputtering up flakes of sediment. She felt her saddlebags getting lighter, and cried out in dismay. Sitting up, she watched in horror as ten days' worth of bread, water, and rations went tumbling downhill.
Stifling a prolonged whimper, she scampered down the embankment in desperate pursuit of the items. Before her eyes, the materials plopped into an unexpected layer of bogwater in the tall grass. There was a resounding splash, some light ripples, and then an enormous fountain of water spraying upwards in the glistening sunlight as an alligator lunged into the air, chomping at the remaining vittles rolling down into its mouth.
Trixie let loose an audible screech. She galloped up the hillside. Once she was a stone's throw from the marshwater, she shoved her face against the dirt and covered her head--shivering at a goofy forty-five degree angle.
Silence--save for the wind.
Slowly--one eyelid opening after another--Trixie got up from where she cowered. A long breath escaped her lips. She reached up and brushed her silver mane back as a melancholic feeling oozed through her. The only thing that warmed the sickening sensation was thoughts about her wagon, her hammock, a cup of tea and a warm meal.
Soon, the melancholy vanished altogether, and Trixie resolved herself to an age-old anger. She pivoted and faced east once again. She squinted at the morning sun that had barely risen any further degrees from when she had first witnessed it. It was hot and bothersome and promised nothing but a day full of discomfort.
"Hrmmmfff..." she turned her nose up, flicked her tail, and trotted back west.
Five minutes later...
...she reached the easternmost streets of Ponyville. There--reclining on a lawn chair with a book--was Starlight Glimmer with a book in her grasp. Her pastel ears twitched to the sound of Trixie's hoofsteps, and she spoke without looking in a sing-songy voice.
"Soooooo..." A pleasant smile crossed Starlight's features. "...how goes your lifelong quest to circumnavigate the globe?"
"The Grreat and Powerrful Trrixie has better things to do with her time than trot east endlessly for a million hours!" Trixie grunted.
"Hmmmm. What a shame." Starlight flipped a page. "Did you see any mountains, at least?"
"Meh. The mountains are officially on indefinite hiatus." Trixie made a beeline for her wagon, parked behind a diner right where she left it. "Trixie bets they're all purple anyway."
Starlight hummed. "I've ordered us pizza, by the way."
"Pizza?" Trixie paused at the entrance to her wagon. "In the morning?"
"Mmmhmmm."
"... ... ...Trixie will be right with you after a great and powerful sponge bath." The showmare ducked into the wagon, her pace suddenly enthusiastic.
Starlight's nostrils flared with a breathy chuckle. A rosiness spread through her features as she flipped another page, whistled to herself, and waited patiently for her best marefriend.
