Leaves danced and shivered above him, shading him from the perfect blue of the infinite sky. A gust of stronger wind ruffled his mane, the rustle of grass and leaves growing in intensity for just a moment, and a tree creaked in the distance.

"Hi!"

Wild jumped, startled, swiftly turning his head to face... a unicorn filly. She was lying on some odd contraption that resembled a bed but was on wheels. And not small wheels like on a shopping cart, but something like wider bicycle wheels. Wild had never seen anything like it before, though the bed part itself looked comfortable. The filly looked somewhat strange - her limbs appeared too thin, unhealthily so, despite the pudginess of the rest of her body. Her face was odd as well - while her eyes were full of life, everything else appeared slacked. Perhaps she was trying to smile, but it turned out to be more of a twisted half-grimace.

"What're you staring at?" her voice rang in his head, a frown appearing on her face with what seemed like a monumental amount of effort. He winced as something inside his head gave a painful tug.

"Lina, you have to be careful with your telepathy."

Wild turned his head and blinked. Luna was there... right, he remembered that.

"Wild is sensitive to anything involving the mind right now," Luna explained to the filly.

Lina looked at Luna, apologetic, then returned to Wild, who was still trying to get his bearings, blinking the remains of dreamless sleep out of his mind.

"Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," her voice sounded again, somehow lighter on his mind, not tugging at it, "Just, staring gets to me, you know?"

Wild rose from his lying position, sitting up more or less straight. When did she get this close anyway?

"I mean, I know what's with me, mirror's not a new invention," she continued, "Can barely move my legs. Can't take a shit without someone there to hold me either."

"I... didn't need to know that," Wild replied slowly, a part of him relieved that he didn't need to speak aloud, "Who... are you?"

"M'name's Lina, your resident cripple," she chuckled breathily, "I'd bump your hoof or something, but, y'know," one of her legs twitched, if barely, "So, what're you in here for?"

"I..." Wild searched for the words for a moment, frustrated at his mind's continued fuzziness, "My mind is hurt. I am recovering from that," a beat passed, "What... about you?"

Perhaps it wasn't the best question to ask, but the realization that it might have been rude only came afterwards.

"I am in a wheelbed," one of her brows raised a bit, "Obviously I'm here because I am insomniac and need this to fall asleep. Wheels are for taking me anywhere I want to sleep at."

Wild didn't know what to say, just sitting there awkwardly.

"That was a joke, come on!" another breathy chuckle escaped her mouth, "In truth, I can't take care of myself, and I'm fucking tired of everyone staring at me wherever I happen to be. Here, it's lonely, but at least I don't feel eyes crawling all over me all the damn time."

Wild nodded, cringing inwardly at profanity. He remembered how foul-mouthed he used to be, and then there were those who swore at him with him unable to- well, it wasn't important right now. He hadn't said a word of profanity in quite a while, and he liked to keep it that way.

Aside from that, he could perhaps understand her. He didn't like to be the center of attention, though he did have a few exceptions. However, wanting to be alone wasn't a new or an infrequent desire for him either.

Now that his brain was working better, he wondered what was the point of the conversation.

"It's not like I need to wait for all that much longer to get all this done with," she continued, "But the wait is just killing me, you know?"

Wild blinked, "All... done with? How?"

"Oh, you don't know?" she looked at him as if he was supposed to know what she was talking about. In truth, he might have known - if he bothered to pay attention. Now he knew that he was stupid by not listening to news, "Basically, they're making a whole new body for me, but they gotta make sure it doesn't form a brain or else it's a big ethical issue because someone else will be in that body. They tried it a few times already, you know, but just ended up making new ponies. I think one of them's hanging around here somewhere, and one's like twenty or something by this point."

Wild... didn't know what to think of this. Were they making clones or something? Were they making ponies in labs? That wasn't something he expected to hear, but then he was rather ignorant of nearly everything, wasn't he?

"And, like, it takes a long damn time to get everything done, so I've been waiting for five years already," Lina said, "Five years ago, I could still walk, you know. Three, could at least crawl, and also sit my self on the fucking toilet. Two, my face was still fine and I could speak and eat easily. One, and I could still mumble stuff coherently sometimes. It's so fucking frustrating, you know, just seeing this shit happen to me with no chance to even pause it somehow? It's just, ugh."

Being out of control with things that happen to you... Wild knew it very well, he could emphasize. However, he wasn't going to admit it to Lina. He still didn't see the point of her telling him all this, didn't know why she was so willing to just unload her frustrations and problems as if they weren't something personal to herself. He tried to imagine himself doing the same, and... well, it was clear it was impossible.

"So yeah, that's about it," she twitched in what could perhaps be a shrug, "I should be out of here in a couple months at worst if everything goes right. How long do you have to be here?"

Wild shrugged in response. For all he knew, he would need months before he could go back to his usual life. He felt more like himself, that much was true, but there was something still obviously wrong with him, even he couldn't deny it.

Feeling this helpless was frustrating, but he was now thankful he wasn't in Lina's position. Neither his human body nor his pony body ever failed him beyond the usual.

The conversation didn't continue naturally from then, leaving the two in an awkward silence.

"Yeah, good talk," Lina bobbed her head slightly, "Anyway, I'll be around. Come visit sometime or something. I can play chess or checkers or a board game, whatever, my magic's still working fine and all. Yeah."

With that being said, she used her magic to turn the front pair of wheels for steering and back wheels for actually moving and drove - or rode, Wild wasn't sure - away.

***

Wild, with Luna's permission, started exercising again.

"It is your mind that needs healing," she told him, "Your body is fine. In fact, I think exercising will help you, I was going to suggest you resume your regiment. You don't overexert yourself, and you have improved your physique without suffering injuries due to overtraining. I believe you're qualified to teach others how to train, so I trust you to know what you're doing."

As he went through the motions pretty much automatically, he wondered about his future. Teaching... it wasn't something he considered a viable path in his life. He had never been much of a good student, first of all, so how could he be qualified to teach others? His grades had always been average to below average, and nothing he did seemed to help at all. He just couldn't stand class work or homework or any type of work related to school. It was boring, it was repetitive, it was just plain not fun. His parents impressed on him the importance of grades, but even that didn't help, so eventually any and all arguments about his grades stopped. He wasn't outright failing anything, so he was left alone.

Of course, that was about academic subjects. Physical Education, that was where he was consistently above average. While he didn't care much about building a massive amount of strength - it took too much time and effort for his liking - he was still one of the most fit people at school. Perhaps not outright big and muscular, but he had endurance to spare, and he had strength enough to do more than a dozen pull-ups in a row. He enjoyed feeling that way, and, if he were honest with himself, he enjoyed the way his body looked as well. That was, of course, before... everything.

Now, his body was once more at what he considered just about peak performance. He had learned a number of lessons about how to grow strong and agile without also forgetting endurance, and he knew what it took to have steady progress, as well as what could stop that progress or, worse, make him regress.

However, he didn't know if he could teach anyone. It was a lucky stroke that he didn't hurt himself in his new body, considering how different it was compared to what he had before. Besides... he didn't want to teach. Teaching involved too many things that he didn't care about, and he knew he didn't have patience for people who learned differently or slower than he did.

Frustratingly, there was also a limit of what he could do with his new body. For once, climbing was almost entirely out of the question. Pull-ups were, of course, impossible. Sit-ups are likewise impossible, and push-ups were far too awkward and difficult to do. Essentially, everything boiled down to squats - or whatever ponies called it - and running around. One could put some weights on as well, which would increase the difficulty. There was also stretching, which he absolutely loved to do. There was just something so nice to be able to do splits, fold himself in ways that others would consider impossible, and so on. There was also grabbing a weight with one's mouth and lifting it, which would strengthen everything around the neck, but Wild saw little purpose in that for himself.

He sometimes still wished he was bipedal. He enjoyed climbing, enjoyed running, and even enjoyed parkour. Now, though? If there was a wall taller than him, he couldn't get over it just by using his own body. Rolling was possible but quite awkward too.

Perhaps if Luna knew his origins, she would also know that him being a teacher of Physical Education or something similar was simply impossible. He did what he did because that's what he liked, and he knew a lot of people would want more or would want less, and he didn't want to deal with it. He exercised his body how he saw fit in ways he thought of as possible.

One thing that he could perhaps teach others is swordsmanship. He knew his skill was great, he knew he could help others achieve his own heights. However, he didn't want swordsmanship to turn into a chore, which he suspected it would become should he become responsible for how others performed.

He interrupted those thoughts as he galloped straight into a small pond, splashing water everywhere. He dunked himself in, enjoying the contrast of cool water against his hot skin, and then emerged. That felt excellent.

Whatever future he would have, he didn't want to think about it much. He shook himself, getting rid of more water, and then saw Nurse Fairheart approaching. He tensed up despite himself.

"Wild, there are some ponies who would like to see you," she said when she was close enough, "If you agree and if Luna agrees too, I will let them in here."

He thought for a moment, wondering who would want to visit him. He wasn't particularly close to anyone. Surely no one really thought of him as a friend? He didn't exactly socialize much. He could name some ponies, of course, but they were acquaintances at best, not friends. Why would they care?

A part of him whispered that they would care about him. They wouldn't want to see him if they didn't.

He didn't know what to feel about that.

"If you don't want to, I will tell them that you're still recovering," Fairheart added, "No one is going to force you to see anyone."

Wild hesitated for a moment, then signed that he did want to see them, whoever they were.

"As long as I'm here, I can make sure Wild isn't overwhelmed," Luna said.

"Very well, then I'll let them know where you are, Wild."

Wild sat down, unsure of what to do, water still dripping off him. He shook again, but it seemed he would be a bit damp for quite some time. Perhaps it wasn't his most thought-through decision to jump into a pond.

"If you allow me, I can use a spell to dry you off," Luna offered. Wild, surprising her, agreed rather quickly. Her horn lit up for a brief moment, and all the water blasted away from him and back into the pond as if by a strong wind, "Here you go."

Wild blinked, then nodded his head in thanks. He would need to learn that spell one day, seemed very useful.

Soon enough, he saw three ponies walking up to him from the building. Perhaps it shouldn't have surprised to him that they were Precision, Swingblade, and Artful. The first two were sometimes his partners in swordsmanship training, and the third... well, he could admit he saw that Artful was interested in him somehow.

Funnily enough, perhaps everyone who had talked to him - including Lina - liked to talk while he simply sat there and listened. He wasn't much of a conversation partner, now was he?

As they got closer, he noticed that Artful spotted a scar on his cheek, around which his fur was shaved off. Did he have that before this day?

"Uh, hi," Swingblade was the first to say anything when all of them got close, "How're you doing? We've heard a-"

"A bunch of crap," Precision cut in, "There are some insane rumors floating around about you, but I don't think you out-dueled every single changeling. You're good, but not that good."

Wild, to the surprise of nearly everyone, chuckled. Perhaps it was his addled brain, but he found it funny. He, out-duel everyone? He dreamed of it before, of being the hero of a story, and that was fun to think about when he was a kid. The reality was much more of a slap to the face, however.

He shook his head, then started gesturing, explaining what happened - while omitting some details. He didn't care that Luna was there - if she thought he would tell them everything, then she was insane. Thankfully, she didn't contradict anything nor add anything. In fact, she seemed to be hiding, staying away from them all. Was she being unobstructive on purpose or something? Whatever was the case, Wild was glad for it.

"Ah, so like the princess said," Swingblade nodded, though he was disappointed, "Wish it were true, though. You're badass, you know that, right?"

Wild just shrugged, hoping the conversation would shift to something else. Thankfully, it seemed everyone caught on, and soon he was hearing about their own adventures. For Precision and Swingblade, it didn't amount to much - they were taken out pretty much straight away.

"I, uh... kinda smashed a plate on one of them?" Artful said, his tone sheepish, "A chunk bounced off and cut my face."

"That's a battle scar, brother, you earned it," Swingblade bumped him, which made Artful inch away from him just a bit. Wild noted Artful didn't appear phased at the touch, but he could still see how he wasn't exactly entirely comfortable with it. Wild wouldn't dig - whatever happened to Artful, it was for him to deal with, and Wild barely knew him anyway. Wild knew he had no right to intrude into life that wasn't his. Besides, he seemed mostly alright.

Wild realized that he cared about him. Not in any way close to a friendship, but... this small thing, being uncomfortable with touch, it... resonated with him. That still didn't explain why he cared, however. There were - and had been - plenty of people he knew and didn't know who hurt, but he didn't care about them, now did he?

It had to be his brain and his less than fully functional mind, he decided. It wasn't like he never cared, it was just... it was exhausting to care. About anyone. He had been chewed and spat out by his own world, wasn't he?

A painful pang in his head, a feeling like some sort of an aura, and he was uncorking another vial with his medicine. Swingblade opened his mouth, but Precision bumped him in the side, so he didn't say anything despite staring at the vial. Artful politely ignored the medicine.

Wild hesitated. Each time he took the potion, his mind became fuzzier. With those three ponies around, he didn't know if-

And then the pain spiked, making him wince. He could afford to drink, say, half of it - he would still remain somewhat clear-headed without suffering a headache. He did just that, but before he could cork the vial and put it back, Luna's voice appeared in his head, gentle.

"You need to drink the rest, otherwise you'll be in pain in about half an hour, and the second half won't be of much help then."

She is trying to trick you.

He shook that suggestion off. Luna had shown him nothing but support, he could trust her. If she wanted to take advantage of him, she would have already done so. She was far more powerful than him anyway - it wouldn't take much for her to force him to do anything she wished. And yet she didn't do that. Just like his parents, who had all the power over him, didn't stifle him, didn't make it their lives' mission to control every aspect of his life.

He drank the rest, and no one commented anything about it.

The pain faded away into nothingness, and his own thoughts already started to blur, and his frustration at it was dulled.

He gestured, asking others how things had been going since he got stuck in the hospital wing.

"Everyone's still talking about you," Precision said, "And you did do a great thing, even if rumors are crap."

"Yeah, without you, we'd probably still be stuck in those cocoons," Swingblade shuddered, "I hate those things. Too slimy."

"How did you break out of it, anyway?" Artful asked, "I, uh, looked some things up, and apparently no one managed to do that before."

Wild thought for a moment, wishing he had already come up with a plausible scenario to explain it. But how could he talk about being smoke and existing outside his own body? He knew it was real - despite how blurry the events of that day were in his head now, even more so than everything else. However, if it was real, then how did he do it?

In the end, he shrugged, then signed that he simply woke up and somehow broke out of it from the inside. It wasn't like anyone would be able to contradict his story anyway.

"Changelings, ugh," Swingblade grimaced, "Would be too soon if I have to see them again."

"I wouldn't mind some payback, myself," Precision added.

Payback? Wild thought it would be monumentally stupid. He, for once, didn't care about payback - Luna was taking care of it, wasn't she? He was perfectly fine with that.

"I think we can get on peacefully with them," Artful said. Precision and Swingblade both looked at him in disbelief, and he didn't look them in the eyes, his body tensing up, "I mean, I don't think most of them even wanted that. Or maybe they were, um, misled."

"Misled?"

"Like, we've not really heard of them, so they live somewhere i-isolated, you know?" he continued, stumbling over his words a bit as he spoke, "Last I heard, most of those who w-were caught can't speak our language. And, you know, maybe they didn't know? We don't know what Queen Chrysalis told them, right?"

"But they still attacked us, didn't they?" Swingblade countered.

"Yeah, and that's bad, but no one died," Artful pointed out, "Like, I'm not saying we should just forgive and forget as if they didn't do anything, but, like, we can give them a chance, right?"

The argument continued, and Wild didn't know if he wished to contribute to it. The fogginess in his mind made it hard to focus on what was being said. On one hand, what Precision and Swingblade said make sense. Changelings attacked, so they need to be punished. On the other hand, Artful was also right.

Wild let the argument fade from his mind. Thinking about it was difficult right now, so he would rather not. If it got out of control, Luna would intervene, he was sure of it.

Wild would just let them talk it all out, then maybe go for a stroll with them all, and then he would... stare at a wall or something.

Perhaps he would think differently if his mind was clearer, but for now, he was perfectly fine with letting it all go.

"Wild, what do you think?" Swingblade called, bringing him back to the conversation.

Wild shrugged, then signed that he didn't know what to think. It was true, and he also didn't want to think about it. Not when he was in the current state, at least. Then he signed a suggestion that they all go for a walk around.

There was some talking afterwards, but he was more than happy to let it wash by him as if he was a rock in the middle of a river. Perhaps it would wear him down over time, but he didn't need to worry about it in the short term.

***

The next day, Wild felt much better about himself. When he awoke, his mind was noticeably clearer, and there was something about him that made him feel less tense overall, as if some sort of unnoticed weight was lifted off his shoulders. Whatever it was, he couldn't properly describe it, but he was glad it happened anyway.

Unfortunately, with his returning clarity, his speech suffered. During his now regular cognition tests, he could barely speak, feeling as if something was squeezing him from the inside each time he opened his mouth. He realized what it was - it was there before, ever-present since a long time. He had gotten used to it, dealt with it for years. However, because of his mental injury and the state of his mind afterwards, along with the medicine he took, it briefly lessened, almost disappearing entirely. But now it was returning, and it took his breath away, stole his words, and shut him up.

It felt... wrong. He was so used to ignoring it, to working around it, that he had never noticed how bad it felt. Now, he wanted it gone. Despite how he thought about his voice - ugly, slow, wrong - he still wanted to speak, and he didn't want this pressure anymore.

He steeled himself and told Luna, speaking where he could and signing when his throat closed up. It was somewhat disjointed, perhaps even incoherent, but he was desperate to let her know. He couldn't deal with it anymore, he didn't want to deal with it anymore. He wanted it gone. By the end of it, he was breathing hard, feeling as if he scratched his throat raw. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and he had to place his legs firmly on the floor to stop them from trembling. However, he could do nothing to stop the sensation of crawling skin, feeling as if Luna was scrutinizing him, as if he had told her too much. Something bad was going to happen, he just knew it.

"Wild, focus on my voice," Luna spoke calmly, "Breathe with me. Inhale... hold it. Exhale. Inhale again, feel as the air fills your lungs, taste the freshness of it. You are going to be fine. Now exhale..."

It continued for what felt like forever, like it was doing nothing at all. Gradually, however, Wild calmed down, Luna's voice carrying him from the heights of anxiety back to the present. His heart stopped feeling like a drum, his breath was now slow and steady, and he no longer felt like he would jump out of his own skin.

Wild knew he could trust Luna. As strange as this feeling was, the truth of it was evident.

"Do you fell better?" Luna asked. He nodded, not daring to speak, fearing it may compromise him again, "Alright, that's good. So, you want to speak, but there's something inside you that stops you from doing it. How long has it been there?"

If it were a different time under different circumstances, Wild would've been cautious, aware of the fake past he told others, and thus he would try to lie his way around it. Perhaps he wouldn't even be in this situation in the first place. Now, however, he was ready to be honest. He wouldn't get into the entire history of his anxiety - and he knew it was anxiety, a proper medical thing, a diagnosis. All the circumstances around it were just too delicate to tell Luna. A part of him already suspected she knew more than she should have. However, a bigger part of him was willing to simply put his trust into her. She hadn't failed him yet, after all. She could, but she hadn't, and that meant something.

Wild told her it had been like that for nearly as long as he could remember. Certain situations overwhelmed him, he admitted. It was simply easier to be alone - or perhaps lonely, but he didn't say or sign that.

"What are situations when you can speak?" Luna asked.

"When... I talk to you," he replied, and it came out relatively easily. He hated how he sounded - his voice was slow, it took him a solid few moments to pick the words he wanted to use, and even then they came out wrong. They could be understood, yes, but he didn't sound like a pony. To him, he sounded like he was wearing a pony's body, and he hated this thought with a passion.

He was his own person, and this was his own body. He knew, he just knew it wasn't wrong. He hadn't taken over another person. Everything that he was, spirit and body, was him and was his.

"Why?"

Wild hesitated for a moment. Saying that he thought that she cared about him would sound pathetic. Maybe not pathetic, but certainly weak. He had shown enough of his vulnerabilities in front of her. Not that showing any more would make it any worse. However, logic didn't enter into this kind of thing.

"Because I..." he searched for the words, "Put my... thoughts..." he grimaced, racking his brain for something better, "Because I..." it was frustrating, needlessly so. He knew what to say, but how to say?

Luna sat there, ever-patient, not hurrying him along. For a moment, he wished that she did, but only because he wouldn't have to answer then.

"Because you help me," he settled on. He unfocused his gaze only so that he wouldn't have to see whatever expression was on her face.

"But you don't feel the same way about your friends?"

He looked puzzled at her. Friends? He didn't have any. They knew him, and he knew them in turn, and they were around each other sometimes, but... they weren't friends. Not like he thought, at least. He didn't care much about them. He would probably be sad if they were hurt - they didn't really deserve to be hurt - but beyond that? He wasn't sure.

"You don't think Swingblade, Precision, and Artful are your friends?" Luna asked. He expected pity - there was none. Perhaps judgement - but it wasn't there either. Some sort of reprimand, then - but it was absent as well. It was just a question.

He shook his head in response. The first two were part of the same club he was in. Why they hang around him, he had no idea. Sure, Precision seemed to get some enjoyment out of dueling him during club time, and so did Swingblade. They jogged with him when he jogged, but that was just exercise, a smart thing to do.

Artful... he just met him one day in the library. He was nice enough, perhaps. Talked a lot, which was... something. He was good at painting, too - Wild easily recognized himself in the latest picture Artful was making, the one he asked Wild's help for. All of it was, if Wild was being honest with himself, somewhat endearing. A change of pace from Swingblade's and Precision's near-constant lighthearted bickering and one-upsmanship.

In truth, the only reason the three were around was because Wild allowed it. Why he did it, he didn't know. He knew he wasn't the most welcoming person, and he had his reasons. However, these three were fine, even if he had known Artful for just about a day in total.

"It is not my business to tell you whom you can't or can't be friends with, nor is it my business to tell you to make friends or not," Luna said, "But friendship takes many forms, the only common thing between them is care. If you didn't care, you wouldn't even think of them. If they didn't care, they wouldn't have visited you."

Wild shrugged, uncomfortable. He didn't know if he cared about them or not. He wasn't neutral about them - which perhaps already meant that he did care - but he couldn't tell what exactly he felt.

Friendships, to him, were a frustrating, mysterious thing. It came easily to others, he knew that much, but he had never had many friends. He was never particularly close to anyone aside from his own family - and his family was his family, and his parents cared about him, so that was a given in his mind. He did play with some boys and girls when he was young, though he was somewhat more comfortable with just climbing trees or doing whatever by himself. It was simply easier that way, a good way to avoid blundering

A part of him told him that it was because he didn't fit. That he was defective. That he wasn't wanted. That the people who cared about him were from his own family, and that meant they had to care about him. A child was an investment, after all. Even if he turned out a disappointment.

It was difficult not to listen to that part of him.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Luna gently reminded him.

He then swallowed, feeling as if his throat was dry, and nodded. To him, it was stupid - other people didn't have those difficulties, why did he? Why couldn't he just be like everyone else?

"Alright. If you want to speak more, there are a couple ways we can go about it," she switched the topic, "First, you simply need to speak more often. Maybe even just to yourself when you're alone. I don't mean that you have to push yourself every time, but you do need to make an effort."

Wild nodded his understanding. It wasn't far from what he knew about it beforehand, after all.

"Is there anything you need help with in order to speak?" Luna asked, "Even if you believe it's something insignificant or stupid."

"I... my voice," he said, "I need a better... tone. I don't sound good."

"I don't believe you sound bad," Luna shook her head, "Merely unaccustomed to speaking. Speaking more, as well as talking to other people, will help you along. It would still take time, so you have to take that in mind, but eventually you will be where you want to be. There are also some vocal exercises I can help you with. Even right now if you want to."

Wild thought for a moment, then nodded. The sooner he could speak well, the better, and his terrible accent needed to be gone.

For the next couple hours, Luna taught him the intricacies of the pony language and its sounds. They were different enough from either English or Russian, so he had to make quite a bit of effort in order to get anywhere close. He remembered how difficult it was for him to pronounce the rolling r sound when he was a kid, but he really wanted to because a character on TV could do that and, to young Wild's mind, sounded so cool.

There was the weird tongue placement, the exact way Wild needed to breathe out, the position of his lips and teeth, everything. It wasn't helped by the fact that, at first, he was trying to adapt how he used to speak to the new way, which didn't go well - after all, his face shape was now a lot different. He suspected that he sounded as bad as he did because he just wasn't used to speaking with his new body, and it all just sounded odd and strange to his ears. Speaking of his ears, their sensitivity and placement were different as well, so it was a contributing factor too.

By the end of the lesson, however, there was some improvement.

"You've made quite a bit of progress, Wild, you should be proud of it," Luna told him with a smile, "You'll have to work more, of course, but I can see that it won't take you too long."

Wild wasn't sure, it still felt like there was a chasm between where he was now and where he wanted to be when it came to speech. Sure, there was a little progress, but he didn't think it was that great.

"It may feel like you've not accomplished much, but trust me, you have," Luna insisted, "You will get there sooner than you think, I promise."

Wild was doubtful, but he was willing to accept Luna's words. He sensed no deception in them, no lies. She wasn't trying to make him feel better about himself, so whatever praise she gave him, it was entirely genuine. He didn't know what to think about that.

Well, at the very least that did elicit a sense of accomplishment within him.

It felt good.

***

Wild decided to play checkers with Lina. He had never been good at chess, and Luna also vetoed the idea of playing it - his mind was still not in great condition, so intellectual exercises and extreme focus that chess required wouldn't be good for him. Checkers were simpler.

While they played, Lina would rarely stop talking to him. Or, more like, talking at him. It was nice background noise, at least.

"So yeah, I think that's cool," she said, "Like, everyone with wings can fly, and we have airships and balloons and all that, but someone's making a... plane, I think. It's built of wood and metal but it can still fly, imagine that! And it's also kinda smaller than any airship too. More controllable. Hard to believe, but they already flew for about ten seconds without crashing, so maybe there's something to it. What do you think?"

"Yes, it's good," he replied, "I think they will succeed."

"Sure hope so. I flew on an air balloon once, and it was kinda boring," she said, "I was flying, yes, but it was so fucking slow! Like, no fun at all. It was really disappointing, but the view was nice."

Wild bobbed his head in a nod. Personally, he had never flew a plane, let alone a balloon. He didn't think he was afraid of heights, but he had never really been all that high - just a few floors up in a building, perhaps. He also climbed trees, of course, but he couldn't go particularly high on them.

He didn't know if he would like flying. He was reborn as a unicorn, not a pegasus, and he didn't think he would trade his magic for a pair of wings. Besides, going fast wasn't really for him. If he could help it, he would never step into a car - he would remain on his two feet - or, more like, on his four hooves now - and that was for the best, he felt.

"Hi, everyone," Artful's voice sounded as he appeared from around the corner. This time, he was alone in visiting Wild, and the latter allowed it. Artful carried a wide rectangular bag on him, "Checkers?"

Wild nodded, and Lina turned her head to look at Artful.

"Oh, you can do that?" his eyes widened, "That's so cool!"

Lina smiled to that. Whatever she said to Artful via telepathy, Wild didn't know. His mind was still shielded from the thoughts of others by Luna, who was reading a book far enough away from them that it felt like she wasn't there.

"I read about telepathy, but I thought it was rare," Artful said. After a pause, he continued, "Yeah, I know it can be learned, but never met anyone who can do it before."

Lina turned to Wild and asked, "You can do that, didn't you tell him?"

"I didn't know until you talked to me," he replied, deciding it was best not to mention his mind powers. Luna explained to him that it was because of them that he could use telepathy naturally. Lina turned away from him and to Artful again.

"Wild can do that too? I feel like I'm underperforming now," he chuckled, "Though, it's also kinda creepy. Not, like, bad, but, uh..." Lina said something to him, "Yeah, that. No group chats and all. Hey, would either of you mind if I paint you?"

Wild shrugged, and Lina offered her own response.

"Alright, I'll set my stuff up here, then."

For the next while, it was quiet. Artful was now sketching the pair, and they continued their game of checkers. It was quite nice and peaceful, Wild found - and wasn't that something? His talk about friendships with Luna came up in his mind, and he wondered if this was how friendships were like. It appeared like everyone was comfortable with everyone, although they didn't even know each other for long.

Truthfully, Wild didn't know when being acquaintances turned into being friends. Was it time? Was it them doing something? Was it something else entirely? Just what qualified as friendship?

"Yeah, there are some ponies that have long tails with brushes on their ends," Artful said, and Wild quirked his eyebrow. He apparently missed an exchange between him and Lina, "Their art is really unique, I wish I could replicate it. But my tail is, well," he made it twitch, "Not really precise. Theirs, though, are like a limb. I think the term is 'prehensile'."

Whatever that term was, Wild had no idea what it meant. He tried not to feel frustrated at his lack of knowledge of the language. He knew his voice was bad, but his understanding of what was being said wasn't all that great either. Ever since he got stuck in the hospital wing, he couldn't even do much about it, considering that he was forbidden from mentally straining himself. He wished he recovered sooner.

Not much later, Artful turned the canvas around, showing Wild and Lina what he had so far.

"What do you think?" he asked, a bit of shyness in his voice.

Wild thought that it was certainly a lot better than anything he could have ever drawn. Stick figures and such were the best he could do, after all. Though, there was one thing he didn't like - his tail was a bit out of the way, and apparently Artful had nothing against drawing what was otherwise hidden. Wild signed to him, suggesting that he move the tail to cover it, although he formed the request in such a way that he didn't say directly that he found it uncomfortable.

"Alright, no problem, give me a moment," Artful easily agreed, turned the canvas back around, and started changing what he drew.

Wild, meanwhile, adjusted his tail. He usually kept it pretty close - as long as he was conscious about it, anyway. The casual nudity ponies had was something he pushed to the back of his mind. At first, it was extremely uncomfortable, but now... Now, it was fine, he accepted it as a part of their culture. However, that didn't mean he was entirely comfortable with it.

His own nudity still bothered him sometimes, but he thought it would be too weird for him to wear underwear or anything else. From what he had learned, ponies rarely wore anything that covered their backside, the usual exception was a dress. Otherwise, they had jackets, suits, scarfs, and other things that covered the front in a somewhat human-like manner. Essentially, it looked like if a human only ever wore top clothes but never anything below the waist.

Wild was glad that he had, so far, received no sexual advances of any kind. He had already seen older ponies getting together and then disappearing for somewhere private, and he didn't need to imagine anything to know what was going on. Once again, it made him uncomfortable, but he was unwilling to raise any fuss.

"Better?" Artful asked, showing the canvas again. This time, everything was covered, so Wild nodded, "Alright, great!"

The day then passed in conversations and being subjected to being put in a painting. It was nice and quiet, and Wild found it enjoyable.

Was that what friendship felt like? He really wanted to know.

Author's Note

Wild learns some more about children around the orphanage, and now he encounters Lina, a disabled filly who is waiting for her treatment, which involves getting a whole new body.

Different people process their disabilities in different ways, and I hope this way was accurate. My intention was to portray Lina as someone who is frustrated by it all and wants it to be solved already, but she is also not skirting around it. I hope this portrayal is not offensive, and I certainly know not everyone in her position would behave the same way.

And yes, pony scientists can make other ponies. It's tremendously expensive and must have strict ethical control for very obvious reasons. Wouldn't want someone to get an idea of making a slave clone army or something, now would we?

I should remind everyone that I am not a doctor in any way whatsoever. What I write should be generally correct according to public data I could skim through for an hour or two, but the specifics are likely wrong. If there's a proper expert reading it, I wouldn't mind corrections.

My advice to anyone looking for advice related to healthcare - speak to an expert. Not a random writer on the internet, not a random blog post, not various news networks, generally not right-wing-leaning anyone or anything (this should be especially obvious due to recent events regarding pandemics and all that), but proper experts who have what it takes to back up that they are, in fact, experts.

I am not an expert. My story should not be taken as something an expert had a hand in.

This should all be quite obvious, but I'm stating it just in case.

Anyway, Wild continues struggling to understand what friendship is. His views on relationships in general isn't exactly healthy, but he'll learn.

Truthfully, I sometimes also struggle with defining what friendship is and drawing a line between just knowing someone, interacting with them, and having someone as a friend.

Excuse me for quite a long author's note, but this chapter was originally two separate chapters, and so I had to combine the notes as well.