Wild was running, each step distinctly felt as he moved from smooth grass to packed dirt. There was a burn in his lungs and he was panting, his breaths frequent and as full as he could make them even as he realized he couldn’t keep up. His heart was not just beating, not even hammering, but pounding in his chest faster than ever before when there was no danger, drowning out almost every other noise.

And then there was a splat, and his vision was obscured by a wide colorful blot in front of his eyes, forcing him to slow down lest he ran into something.

“Boom, headshot!” someone from the opposite team yelled victoriously, and Wild knew it was aimed at him, but he didn’t scowl, didn’t as much as frown, but merely pulled out the red cape out of his pouch and draped it over his body.

Wild used his magic to wipe the paint off his visor, mostly smearing it around in a kaleidoscope of colors.

It wasn’t long before he was back in the game, running, dodging, shooting, getting shot at, getting hit, and then he had to go back out and then back in again.

Every ball of paint that hit him stung, yet it didn’t bring anything than a momentary pause in his enjoyment. Every shot he landed was more than worth every single hit he got even when the number of times he was shot vastly outweighed any of his own successful shots.

Pegasi, he learned, were the most devious, often hiding on the tree tops. He was not accustomed to looking up in search of danger, and it was clear the pegasi had taken advantage of it, and it appeared he was prone to overlooking their presence most out of everyone else. That would have been frustrating, and he flinched every time a shot came from up above, leaving him unable to react even when he heard the slingbow letting its projectile loose just a tiny moment before it hit him. Once, he wasn’t fast enough to dodge one of the paint bombs, and so he was splattered from head to hooves, forced to blink the paint out of his eyes even as the pegasus laughed above. Wild was vindicated when there was an audible splat followed by a squawk when one of his teammates noticed what happened.

Wild thought earth ponies would be the easiest, with their bulk and all, to hit. However, he was dead wrong - they could easily dash in and out of cover while shooting faster than they probably should have been able to, forcing Wild to take cover himself. It took an earth pony less time to aim and let loose than for Wild to even put a ball in the slingshot, let alone aim. It was frustrating at first, but Wild learned not to rush at seemingly easy targets.

What frustrated him the most was the unreliability of his slingshot. It was made well, not just a piece of fortunately-shaped stick combined with a strip of rubber, but if there was a reliable method of aiming with it, he had yet to find it. Most of the time, his shots went nowhere near the intended target, splattering somewhere in front or behind or to the side of where he shot. And as the rubber part of it flopped around, it made it somewhat difficult to grasp and load the ball in. By the end of the game, he still hadn’t found a good way of using it, although he suspected he would improve with time.

Despite his lack of skill in using a slingshot, he still managed to hit a few ponies, and each their grunt or yelp sent a tingle of satisfaction deep within him, making the entire experience worth it. With a tingle of satisfaction, however, came a twinge of shame, of guilt, striking at him viciously even as he struggled to let it all go, telling himself that there was nothing he could do about it anyway, that he was not evil, that he could simply accept what he felt.

Yet others freely whooped and yelled as they hit others, celebrating the pain they caused, and Wild wondered if he too would one day react so audibly to this. How others acted about it, more than anything, allowed him, at least partially, to let go of the feelings of guilt and shame. If others enjoyed it so openly... why couldn’t he?

By the end of it all, Wild felt a pleasant burn of exhausted muscles in his legs, the dull and rapidly fading ache of many paintballs having hit him, and the stickiness of sweat mixed with paint covering his body. Team against team, capture the flag, attack and defense, everything seemed like a long while when in the moment but, once it was over, Wild was hit with the sense of just how quickly it passed, and he realized how much joy he had in the meanwhile. He forgot his worries, forgot about the past and the future, and simply enjoyed being there in the moment, caught on a wave of action that carried everyone around him.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?” Precision grinned at him as she used a towel to wipe the paint off with moderate results. She also threw a clean towel at him, which he fumbled a bit before grasping it properly, “Think you’d like to do it again sometime?”

Wild thought about it as he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot where dirt from falling on the ground mixed with paint on one of his forelegs. It didn’t take him long to give her a nod, deciding that he could get used to something like this as long as it wasn’t too often.

The cleanup was easy - the paint in the field of battle would, of course, remain, waiting for the next rain to be washed off and away; all the slingshots were cleaned, sorted, and packed back into the shed; the protective visors, red capes, and every other bit of wearables were cleaned and put back in storage as well.

No one seemed to be going away, chatting in small groups, reenacting their best shots or showing where they were hit instead. The air was abuzz with the feelings of contentment, happiness, and tiredness.

“By the way, are you gonna stay for the picnic?” Precision asked, “There’s gonna be some food. Bunch of us came together to make some stuff, so keep that in mind for the future, maybe you’d like to show us your own cooking talents, yeah?”

Wild hesitated only a little before he nodded. His stomach rumbled, and his mouth felt a bit dry, so he wouldn’t exactly mind something to eat.

Precision whistled, gaining everyone’s attention right away, “Alright, everyone, let’s go to the lake! Hey Sonnet, got your sandwiches ready?”

“Yep, all right there!” an earth pony thumped their hoof on a wooden box.

“Got my fried tofu!” another pony, a pegasus, chirped from elsewhere.

“Ay, great to hear, Winter!” Precision replied to them with a grin, “Can’t wait for those! Everyone else has their stuff? Alright, then let’s go!”

It was well past noon, the sun high in the sky yet slowly moving towards where Princess Celestia would later lower it from, and the wind has turned from slightly chilly to pleasantly warm. The lake was covered in a variety of fallen leaves, the surface rippling every so often. A group of ducks was hiding among the reeds, quacking every so often. A couple of ponies broke off from the rest, heading towards the ducks. The ducks responded by gliding out from the reeds, moving swiftly to meet the ponies. The ponies sat down near the water and opened a bag of seeds, which they proceeded to scatter, making the ducks hurry to get them as they floated in the water.

Many ponies had blankets ready, setting them down on the ground and then lying on top. Someone was preparing a bonfire, clearing a place for it and gathering stones to circle it, as well as some sticks and old pieces of logs. Not much later, a small fire erupted and started to grow.

Wild didn’t have any sort of blanket, so he somewhat awkwardly settled down on the edge of the gathering despite wishing to be closer to the bonfire. The flames now danced, growing higher every minute. A unicorn was showing off by using magic to change the color of the flames to red, green, blue, even black, which made the light disappear, making the flames look completely unnatural. Fortunately, the fire was almost immediately turned to a more pleasant color, and other unicorns joined in, attempting to make the flames multicolored.

Wild relaxed, enjoying the ambient buzz of conversations even when there was a pang of loneliness. He swiftly smothered it, not wishing to ruin this moment. Thankfully, someone was now distributing the plates with aforementioned sandwiches and pieces of fried tofu that was also encrusted in breading. Wild accepted his own plate with a nod, as well as getting a cup of apple juice. The juice was surprisingly cool, and it soothed his somewhat raw throat as it went down. The sandwiches were nothing extravagant, a simple combination of vegetables and... was that bacon?

Wild peered closer, baffled, thinking that surely ponies wouldn’t actually eat pigs. He was proven correct when he recognized that it was... a banana peel. It was barely recognizable, made crispy by heat and browned by whatever marinade it was in beforehand. Wild hadn’t seen anything like it before, but the sandwich was surprisingly good despite the odd addition. The bread was slightly toasted too, enough to form a slightly harder outside yet remain pleasantly soft on the inside.

As the bonfire steadily burned, tended to by a couple of ponies, more joined the group as time passed. The conversations grew quieter somewhat, and Wild relaxed completely, almost in a half-asleep state as he lay on the grass. The sandwiches were now gone, and the fried tofu bits turned out surprisingly well too - especially when someone started distributing sauce Wild couldn’t really figure out the contents of. It was spicy and savory, and there was a hint of sweetness as well, all mixed together to form whatever the sauce was. Wild found himself dipping the tofu bits in it without much thought, and then he licked the small sauce bowl clean afterwards.

Wild, in the depths of his mind, wished there was someone he could share this meal with. Even as he sat not far from others, there was infinite distance between them and him, a deep chasm that couldn’t be crossed. Even as others conversed, he sat in place alone, the food his only companion. Even as he ate what was provided, he imagined someone sitting with him, perhaps even close enough to be felt with touch alone. Someone who would converse with him on any and all topics, probably something inconsequential yet fitting with the buzz of everyone else.

Wild saw groups of friends lying close together, talking to each other with all the familiarity between themselves that Wild had never grown to experience himself. In a group of four, a unicorn was animatedly telling some sort of funny story, pausing at just the right time to build up the laughter, and then striking with the punchline that left everyone rolling and guffawing, tears of fun in their eyes.

Another group, now a quieter couple of ponies Wild couldn’t really see the details of from where he sat, was sitting together in a hug, pressed so close together surely they could feel each other’s heartbeat. They murmured between themselves, and then there was a kiss - a light one, on a cheek, and it was followed by a giggle.

Wild thought about leaving, his discomfort growing, yet he couldn’t make himself stand up, couldn’t ruin the atmosphere, couldn’t think of disturbing the slowly churning thoughts of contentment all around him. And so he stayed.

He tried to convince himself that he didn’t need what he had. Didn’t need the touch even as he found himself lacking the shudder he was so used to whenever someone touched him, whenever he even thought about being touched at all.

However... not all touch was unpleasant. His own family wasn’t very touchy-feely, but did it not feel good when he got to hug his parents or receive a kiss on the cheek from his mom? This was a memory that couldn’t be erased, that would not be erased as if it had a will of its own. Wild remembered pain, but no pain could ever erase the feeling of pleasure.

The fact was, his new body was pure, untouched by the clinging dread and terror and pain like no other that were a part of his old human body. His scars were there on his new body, but even they lacked the punch of their presence on his old body. Most importantly, all of them would be erased save one, and that one... he didn’t like to think about because it was just a reminder of a step that led his life to where he was now, but it wasn’t the worst.

Perhaps... maybe one day. He might allow someone to touch him again, someday. There was no guarantee, but, as he looked at the easy friendships and other relationships all around him, as he fought down his discomfort - and what was he even uncomfortable of? - he realized that he wanted it.

The discomfort... it wasn’t exactly anything relating to what others did around him. They had the right to be happy, and he had no right to complain that their way to happiness was something... was something he didn’t have.

The discomfort, he realized, arose from his envy. From his desire to not see what others had but he did not.

The future was unknown and uncertain, distant yet so close Wild could almost see it, and it loomed over him like a thundercloud, not yet alight, not yet raining, and it may not thunder anyway, but the possibility was still there.

Perhaps it was true that Wild didn’t have the... relationship he wished to have. He knew there were obstacles between him and what he wanted, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to overcome them.

However... spending his second life in constant fear, allowing his anxiety to rule him, allowing his past to dictate a rigid path to his future, none of it was anything even close to what he wanted.

“What’cha thinking so hard about?” the voice of Precision dragged him out of his own thoughts.

Wild could never think to confide in her. She deserved to live her life free of his own burdens. So, in response, he simply shook his head.

“Fair enough,” Precision shrugged in return, and Wild was grateful she didn’t push the issue, “How’d you find the entire thing?”

Wild, after a few moments of thought, began to gesture his response when he stopped. Precision furrowed her brows in confusion at it. Unbeknownst to her, Wild struggled on the inside, and he swallowed as he came to a decision. Having conversations, spoken or with just a touch, could never happen unless he started somewhere.

“It is nice,” he finally said, his voice quiet, and he now awaited... something that felt like judgement.

Precision’s eyebrows climbed up to her hairline as she gaped like a fish at Wild. He would perhaps find it humorous if not for how scrutinized he felt in the moment, barely stopping himself from fidgeting.

“Aaaalright. Uh, good to know,” Precision replied slowly, coming back to her senses, “So yeah, we do this thing sometimes. Not just the paintball and this picnic, but the picnic isn’t usually, uh, following, so yeah. But it’s nice to gather around and just relax for a moment, you know?”

“...Yes,” Wild replied, swallowing deeply again, his mouth suddenly dry. At least the babbling from Precision was a better outcome than questioning him about what was going on with his voice. Even now, his throat threatened to close up, to almost choke him, to force him to swallow his own tongue, but it held it all at bay. He continued, even if every word felt awkward both in his mind and on his tongue, “I had fun. Thank you.”

“...You’re welcome,” Precision nodded, then slightly shook herself, “Well, I uh, I’ll be around. We’re gonna set up a tent and all sleep in a big pile. Feel free to join in, if you want that is.”

That was a step too far too soon for him, especially among strangers. So, he simply shook his head.

“You do you,” Precision shrugged, then went away.

Wild was, once again, grateful that she didn’t push for him to join the... pile. He had never slept with anyone in the direct sense of the word, certainly not after he passed the age of six. Lying together with a bunch of strangers, even if friendly-seeming strangers in what was probably a very safe situation... he didn’t want it.

For now, however, he could relax by himself, enjoying the quiet and peaceful atmosphere until it was time for him to go back to his own dorm, take a shower, and then sleep.

Author's Note

I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter, I was busy and it slipped my mind.

Banana bacon is a thing I have successfully made once. Properly fried, it is actually nice and crispy.

And Wild is finally considering that things will be better in the future, so yay for him!