Wild fell into an odd dream after the nightmare was done and over with. There was a sensation of softness like a bed, temperature of it not too hot and not too cold as he lay on top of it - in fact, it was as perfect as it could ever be. Next to him on the sheets was someone, an impression that he could not decipher but was pleasant. Wild was close to whoever they were, and they were touching, and it felt nice. There were motions, there was pleasure, yet there was nothing concrete.

Wild woke up with that pleasure and warmth clinging to him, lingering past the moment he opened his eyes and started coming to awareness. He closed his eyes again, unwilling to face the day just yet. He clung to the dreamy sensations, rolling on top of his bed until he was hugging one of the pillows close to him. He let out a long sigh, and his mouth stretched in an easy smile as he embraced the feeling. For a long moment, there was nothing but him and remembered impression of pleasure and comfort.

As he became more aware of the world outside of him, there was a sensation he recognized and, in part, dreaded. It was exactly the reason why his eyes shot open and his face flushed red. He kicked the comforter he was lying under aside and then scrambled out of bed.

Wild breathed in, held it for a moment, then breathed out, trying his best to make his... whatever his feelings were disappear. They were a confusing mix of fear, shame, and, most importantly, desire.

He knew it was just morning wood. He already had it once, and it wasn’t a surprise - shouldn’t have been a surprise - this time, and yet it was. Once he was in the bathroom, however, he managed to calm down. The sensation between his legs was not... unpleasant, he had to admit. Ever since he was thrust into this world, his body carried no aches from the past, after all. Perhaps he could... take a look. For a long time, he did his best to ignore that region of his body, which seemed like the safest route to take. However, things have changed.

The scars that bothered him were now certainly visibly faded, and the difference was obvious enough that he knew those scars would disappear very soon. The mark of ownership on his stomach would likewise go away as if it was never there. The last physical reminder of ever having been... abused would be gone.

Wild breathed in, held it, breathed out. He could not give his very dead tormentors any possible satisfaction of still controlling his life. He, once again, reminded himself that they were now dead because of him. He had taken his revenge, he was satisfied with it - even if he could have prolonged their suffering, especially now that he knew it wasn’t wrong for him to feel pleasure at their pain. It was what they deserved, after all, even Princess Luna agreed, and that had to count for something. She was, whether she realized it or not, the highest authority in Equestria - he doubted anyone else’s opinion mattered nearly as much as hers, and... he had come to view her as an ally.

He ripped out his feeling of shame. It was of no use, it was only holding him back. What his tormentors did to him could never be forgotten, but they held no control over him anymore. He wish he could torture them once more to remind himself that he was in control, that he took over them and then made them his victims, a role reversal that was simply right.

Wild could not be ashamed of himself, not anymore, certainly not for something that was not his fault. Luna told him it was not his fault, she was sincere about it, and he couldn’t help but believe her.

If he could accept the mental part of himself that he believed was wrong, then why would he have difficulty with accepting a natural part of his own body? Despite that logic, however, he had to sit down and just breathe for a short while because his heart was beating faster than normal, because there was still a sense of anxiety rolling all over him.

Fortunately, he was all alone, and his bathroom had a lock that could not be opened from outside. Well, perhaps a skilled sorcerer could open it, but that was not important at the moment.

He finally looked at his nether regions, steeling himself for it. Then he paused when his eyes came upon them, and he blinked. He had known it was different, but to consciously and willingly look at it... it was now sinking just how different it all was. This... was helpful, he had to admit. This was not the body that was abused and defiled even if some scars carried over. The difference was as striking as it was important.

Wild, of course, had known for a long time that he was reborn as a male. And a mammal, of course, meaning that he had a penis. He huffed at the thought because of course, what else could he be? That was what he was used to, and he didn’t exactly know what he would feel like if he was instead put in a female body. He would probably feel... odd, but then he had no idea. He knew of people who had wrong bodies, but he had never felt that way, and he never really felt that it would be wrong for him to have a female body. If he were honest with himself, he didn’t care much about what kind of body he had as long as it was reasonably familiar. In truth, he was becoming more familiar with not having a body, when he was just a spirit, and spirits simply did not have any sexual characteristics. As far as he knew, at least.

His erection still hadn’t died down, so he examined what he actually had. The entire shape was... different, that was the description he decided to stick with. No foreskin - or, at least, not in a way that he recognized - was the first thing that came to mind. Then there was the head - it was far flatter than he was used to, and also less... separate, in a way. The color was obviously different - it was more of a dark blue, darker than his fur but not black, and it was certainly not white - not human white, at least, and that was not the same color as a pony white, which was actually white and not... pinky-beige color that ‘white’ human skin was.

Wild shook his head slightly, returning from that thought to his... equipment. It was longer, thicker, and he had no idea where it stood in terms of either. He had never particularly cared about his size, though, like many other boys, he would pronounce himself big. He knew it had been foolish - it was not like he ever actually showed it to anyone.

As far as Wild was concerned, his current size was alright. It did not seem particularly big or particularly small, at the very least. Not that he expected to put it to use anytime soon... although he... he could perhaps admit that he did dream of it. Maybe someday, he would have... sex. It was a nice thought, to be able to do it willingly, consensually, and for pleasure.

Wild kept looking at it, even touched it a few times with his magical hands, but he decided he could not go any further, not that day. Instead, he went through his usual morning routine, bringing back some normalcy to his life. As water ran down his body, it washed away his concerns and worries, at least for the time-being.

This day, he had no martial arts classes of any kind and neither did he have to go with Artful to the arts club. Wild was fairly certain drawing or painting wasn’t for him. They required too much sitting in one place while needing too much focus. Perhaps he would start painting faster without having to pay much attention to it if he got good enough, but he didn’t believe this kind of art was what he wanted to do.

However, he had heard of a music club, and there was something inside of him that thrilled at the idea of joining it. He couldn’t exactly play an instrument, but... he wished to sing. His mother was a good singer, and he was, or at least had been some time ago, decent enough at it that he could improve further quickly. Perhaps what little he had managed to learn back then would return to him if only he put time and effort into it. Unfortunately for him, he was painfully aware of his difficulties with speaking to others. Going from that to singing, especially in front of an audience? He... was uncertain if he would ever accomplish it.

Wild straightened in resolution - even if that was beyond him now, he could try. He had to try. He had to overcome his weaknesses, and that could not be done without doing something about them.

He made his way to the cafeteria for breakfast, got his food, sat down, and waited. If he was correct, his... acquaintances would be there soon. He still did not know whether he could call them friends, and he wondered whether it would ever change, if he would ever... tell them of who he truly was. Friendships could not be built on deception and avoidance, and one day he would have to admit to who he was and await whatever would come next. If... if they went to refuse to know him then, then perhaps... perhaps they would be the wrong people to turn to for friendship. Wild could do nothing about what happened to him, could not turn back time to change his very essence, could not tear apart himself to throw away parts of himself that he did not like or parts that others would condemn.

Wild knew where this bout of energy and willingness to do what he would otherwise avoid came from - it was the reminder that humans were not far despite the seemingly infinite distance between this world and the Earth. If they ever came here, he would need to be without weakness, and he would need allies and friends so that others would believe when he came to them with explanations of what humanity was and what it could do - would do given the chance.

He never thought himself a savior of anyone, but perhaps his knowledge, his experiences, everything that made him him could be used to help someone, to preserve this world he found himself in. If he struck back against that which he hated and despised, all the better. If armies came, he would stand against them in body and in spirit. He might be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but he refused to give up now, no matter what bleak end to this world his dreams told him was possible.

To his luck, the first of the people he knew who approached him was Precision. He breathed in deeply but not loudly in order to avoid her noticing something was going to happen. He could hear his heartbeat in his head, and it took him everything not to deflate and surrender to the rising desire of being somewhere, anywhere but where he was. He had to do this.

“Hello,” he greeted her shyly, quietly, and he had to let out a small cough despite nothing being stuck in his throat. That singular word would have to be enough for now.

Thankfully for him, there was but a small pause in Precision’s steps as she reached his table and sat down near him.

“Hi, Wild,” she greeted him, “How are you?”

He knew what the words meant, but it still took his brain an embarrassingly long time to process them. It was a short pause, but certainly not one regular people would ever have in a conversation as easy as this one.

“I am... well,” he replied, his mouth forming words with difficulty only partially stemming from still being largely unfamiliar with forming the proper sounds and their combinations. He swallowed, then decided to elaborate despite how much he wanted this conversation to end, “I am doing good with everything. But my language is bad.”

That much was clear to anyone who heard him, of course, but speaking it out loud was... something. He couldn’t yet decide what it was.

“I think it’s fine,” Precision shrugged seemingly nonchalantly, “You’ll get better like with everything you do.”

“I... will,” he nodded and turned to his food. For now, he was spent. Silence was what he needed for the time-being, and Precision understood it - she didn’t push, deciding to eat as well. Wild was grateful for it.

Next person who came to his table was Artful, probably his favorite person among everyone Wild knew. Except perhaps Luna, although he did not think he had a place for her on favorite acquaintances list. He liked her very well for her help and guidance, but he couldn’t easily imagine himself eating with her like he was doing now. Knowing people, all those relationships, were... complicated beyond belief sometimes.

“Hello, Art-ful,” he greeted him. His name was just easier to say than Precision’s.

“Oh,” Artful blinked, then smiled, “You’ve a nice voice.”

Wild nearly sputtered, his cheeks heating up as any and all words died somewhere in his chest before they could be breathed out into words. His voice was nice? As far as he was concerned, it sounded somewhat ugly, definitely awkward, and very unpracticed. Nothing like a much more refined way of speaking everyone else had.

If he were entirely honest with himself, it had been a very long time since he thought about anything of his that was nice or had any beauty to it. He knew he wasn’t particularly good-looking or good-sounding or good... anything.

He blinked at his food. Maybe... he wasn’t seeing something. If... if he could only ask.

And he could. He would.

He gained Artful’s attention when he turned to him.

“You...” Wild swallowed. Word by word, he would claw his way up from the pit of silence. His heart was beating fast, but it only meant he was alive. He was alive and he would remain so, and his life belonged to him, and that meant one thing - he had to fight for it. He cleared his throat, “You think... my voice is...” he then almost whispered the last word, “Nice?”

“Um, yeah,” Artful nodded with a blush on his face, “The more you talk, the, um, the more I... like your voice. It’s just... nice.”

Wild had no idea what to say to that, and he turned to Precision. She simply gave him a grin, which answered nothing.

Breakfast was spent in a sort of awkward yet warm atmosphere, and Wild was glad Swingblade decided not to show up - he felt like he was done with this entire day there and then already.

***

Unfortunately, while he was perhaps done with the day, the day wasn’t done with him. He was reminded - not by anyone other than himself, thankfully - that he had to finish the sexuality education book. At least he had already the fact that he was not a sexually healthy adult out of the way.

Not much further into the book was yet another list of things Wild would need to adhere to if he were to become sexually healthy. He steeled himself and started applying each point to himself, ready for disappointment, knowing it would come.

A sexually healthy adult will:

- Discriminate between life-enhancing sexual behaviors and those that are harmful to self and/or others.

Wild was certainly very aware that some things were not to be done and were, indeed, harmful. However, beyond the stark difference of consensual and non-consensual, he didn’t really know much else. It was not a complete failure, but he was certainly deficient in it.

• Express one’s sexuality while respecting the rights of others.

That one was easy for Wild. He would never force himself on others in any way, and he did not care what anyone else did as long as it was all consensual. How other people did things, it was their business, not his. He could perhaps give himself a pass on this one.

• Seek new information to enhance one’s sexuality.

Wild had to giggle at that. Was this book suggesting him to look up pornography? That was probably not what they meant, but it could be included. Wild had not really looked up any porn in a long time, and... he did wonder what ponies had, even though the idea of looking at it was... he didn’t really know. It was not disgusting since it was not animal porn, but it was... unusual to him. Ponies were, of course, sapient, and so there were no issues with him perhaps someday having sex with them - he was physically a pony as well - but there was still doubt in his mind. Perhaps he didn’t yet fully believe himself to be a pony, did not trust this knowledge completely. It was something... to work on.

- Engage in sexual relationships that are consensual, non-exploitative, honest, pleasurable, and protected.

Wild would never have an objection to that. If he ever found himself in doing anything contrary to that, he would gladly cut his own throat and choke on his own blood, for it was the least he would deserve.

• Practice health-promoting behaviors, such as regular check-ups, teats and testicular self-exam, and early identification of potential problems.

He would be working on that. His health, he knew, was important. Although he was not particularly looking forward to anyone other than himself doing any sort of examination. He would still have to look into it later. This was a point that he would definitely follow... as soon as he could.

• Use contraception effectively to avoid unintended pregnancy

That certainly did not apply to him, and he chuckled at that. Pregnancy and what he wanted were two very incompatible things.

• Avoid contracting or transmitting a sexually transmitted disease

He knew he would be very careful with whom he had sex with - provided he would ever be able to go that far. He wondered what the situation was with STDs among ponies and if... there were cross-species... things. He decided not to think of that yet.

There was yet another point about unwanted pregnancies which he skipped. And then another one after that. He knew he would not be having kids anyway, and he was not attracted to women at all, so he simply didn’t need to worry about it.

- Help prevent sexual abuse.

He... would need to look up and find out how. If he could help someone avoid what he had gone through, he would do that in a heartbeat.

- Demonstrate respect for people with different sexual values.

He could do that. This was, fortunately, an easy point. As long as no one bothered him, he would bother no one in turn.

- Exercise political responsibility to influence legislation dealing with sexual issues.

Wild’s experience with politics so far had been a singular visit to a debate club and signing the petition to prevent the branding of changelings. With time, he could perhaps go further, although he had never really been political, so he could see there would be many difficulties ahead of him.

- Assess the impact of family, cultural, media, and societal messages on one’s thoughts, feelings, values, and behaviors related to sexuality.

That one was pretty obvious to him. Gay people were hated by society - or at least disliked - and so he had to hide his own sexuality for the fear of being hurt or killed. He hoped he would not have to fear that now, and there were good signs that he could be open about himself. There was probably more to it, but this one thing impacted him most of all.

- Critically examine the world around them for biases based on gender, sexual orientation, culture, ethnicity, and race.

Wild... was not sure how to do that aside from spotting obvious hate and dislike and distaste. He would need to find out more about it.

- Promote the rights of all people to accurate sexuality information.

He nodded to himself - that much he could do. He didn’t want to be one of those people who believed one could get ‘gregnant’ or ‘pregante’ or whatever because of holding hands or something.

- Avoid behaviors that exhibit prejudice and bigotry.

As far as Wild was aware, he was not prejudiced or bigoted. This point was... covered, perhaps. He never hated black people or Jews or other minorities, so he was probably fine.

- Reject stereotypes about the sexuality of different populations.

In truth, he wasn’t even aware such stereotypes existed in the first place. Another topic he would have to look into it.

There was, finally, one last point he had to read in this list.

- Educate others about sexuality.

This... he was not ready for. Even after he learned what he could about it, he doubted he would be able to easily repeat it. Sexuality was just not something he was very open about, and he didn’t think it would change anytime soon. Others could do the job better than him anyway, and so he would let them do just that.

He put the book down after making sure the list was over. At least he was done with figuring out how sexually healthy he was. And, in truth, it was better than he expected.

Unfortunately, there was still a large part of the book to finish, but he had made progress. He would get through it all, he would take control over his sexuality, he would not be afraid anymore.

It would just take time.

Author's Note

Wild needs to do some more introspection, but he's on the right course.