The hills rolled along for miles, forming small shallow valleys between them like the dunes of a desert would have similarly made, and a gentle breeze, one barely noticeable be it not for the human touch, blew forth low to the ground. Along the mounds, and likely the lands beyond, flowed tall grasses of emerald green that shimmered and flickered in the light of day, their stalks bent and pushed along by the winds that flowed here lightly but consistently, and here and there were patches of flowers of many colors that joined in the dance that was all too familiar to these hillocks, and they too seemed to glow heavily by the sun’s rays.

It was indeed a bright day, there was nay a cloud in the sky, the warmth of the sun was pleasant to the touch, especially to those that might have been coming down from the high mountains to the West, ones that looked nearly blue from this far, and where white peaks of snow were among them all. There were also mountains to the East, high and mighty, though these seemed thinner than those of the West, where they slopped down heavily into the hilly valley, like a tree where it roots in a forest. It was near here, by the mountains to the West, that trees did root themselves. Tall pines, dull and of a healthy dark green, rested here along the slopes of the mountain sides, their tips also infected by the glitter of snow. But thankfully the cold did not seem to reach here.

Many people traveled along this route through the valley, as would be evidenced by the many roads here; though they were all, but a few, unpaved and without support for carts. However, it would seem to any wayfarer that they were travelled on well enough, just so that grass or weed did not gain a roothold on them. These roads were also without sign, so for one to travel them a map would be needed, or just a generous sense of wanderlust. But for now nothing moved outside of the birds hovering high through the cloudless sky. Though a grasshopper did jump, and the wind did blow, all was silent, and all was peaceful in this moment.

The rackety clanking of pots and pans rattled the air and reverberated on for many miles. Over a hill, where a bare dirt road lay, a figure emerged in a silhouette to anyone that would be near the bottom. Tall, and upright, there was revealed the form of a man. Though his face and body implied youth, he seemed hunched with sagging shoulders, as if a great burden was laid upon him. Though it was not known if such burden was in his mind, it was clear that the large, likely very heavy, traveling pack upon his back was surely of the physical plane. In his slightly gaunt, veiny hands he gripped a stick about twice his own height, and about as thick as a wrist of which he leaned atop this hill, breathing deep and long breaths.

With sharp eyes he gazed over the vast hillands before him, watching the waves of grasses flow like a tide over and under the mounds. Even from here he could see the vast flatlands to the south, and far beyond that the tips of more peaks, barely pinpricks in the horizon. Lovely, he thought. This moment of peace, as much as he wished it to last, was over washed as he rose up, and started down the hillside, the pans and pots and little bags swinging and hobbling behind him with every step he took, though their clanking fell on deaf ears. He had gotten used to it a long time ago.

The sun lay low in the sky now. It must have been around five or four in the afternoon. It didn’t matter to him though, but he had to admit, the low light made the plains look even better than when he had seen them before a few hours ago. ‘Least, the last time he had paid them any notice. He now stood atop a hill, as he had many dozens of times before now, though this one lowered down at a decline barely noticeable, and marked the entrance into the flatlands. The wind was not as strong here, likely from the fact that the mountains to each side of the valley had moved off away from each other for the last couple of miles, but, it was still a low gust, and the tall grass and weeds and, now, small shrubs fluttered along as they had done for some time now. He shrugged the pack upon his back, and sighed a low sigh, and started along the road again.

Dusk came quick, and his legs felt that they were about to fall out from under him, so he felt it was a reasonable time to make camp. He didn’t have any fear of bandits out here, so a fire was something he made quickly. From his orange and green travel pack he pulled a small can of beans and poured them out unto one of his many iron pans, plucking it from it’s place besides his few other handled cookware. For a while he sat there and simply watched the fire crack and snap, it’s warmth welcome as it got chilly in the night. He took in it’s streaks, how the wood burned intricate black and white patterns, the ash falling every so often from their small crevices, and the light thud on the ground as a small chunk of burnt, barely solid, wood fell away and landed near the stones of the pit, and as if to match this movement of dead wood, a much louder, audible thud came from across the fire.

“Hey there.” An airy voice greeted.

He looked up, startled, at the pegasus just across the small fire. Her fur glowed orange near the flame, or was she orange? She was wearing a coat he noticed a moment later, so maybe her coat was orange? He couldn’t quite tell. Her mane was nearly covered by the brown cap she wore; the rest of her locks, of a yellowish hue, flowed down along her shoulder. Some slightly tinted flight goggles covered her eyes. She wore a smile, a pair of saddlebags slung over her. “Saw the fire, thought I’d come by and say hello.” She said.

“It seems you have.” The man nodded, his voice was deep, and slightly rough, his vocal cords almost scratchy, likely from their lack of use as of late.

The pegasus nodded as well, “Well, figured if you’d allow it, save me some kindle if we could share.”

The man looked her up and down, “I don’t see why not. Though I didn’t prepare for any company.” He chuckled.

She smiled, “Thanks.” She reached around and unclipped her saddlebags and they hit the ground with a thud, and she sat close to the pit, nearly hugging the fire. “So...I don’t mean to be rude.” the pegasus started, “But...I’ve never seen somepony like you before.” The man looked over to her away from the beans he had been stirring, and she put her hooves up defensively, “Look, look. I’m sorry if that came off wrong, but I’m just trying to be honest with you here.”

After a moment, he brought a spoonful of beans to his mouth, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been asked worse.” He blew on the beans, “I’m a human, to answer the question.”

“A human? I’ve never heard of those before. Are you from the Far East?” She asked curiously, a hoof to her chin.

“No.” He answered simply, the spoon going into his mouth soon after. The beans were watery, but had a great deal of spice to it, compared to the green beans he had eaten the night before, their flavor might as well have exploded in his mouth. They reminded him of Ranch Style, though less thick.

“Huh.” She shrugged, and, noticing he was about to eat, opened her saddlebags and pulled out a little bag of dried fruits and nuts. They ate in silence for a while, the man had pulled out a biscuit from his bag, though to the pegasus it looked more like a lumpy cracker than anything, though he pressed that it was a biscuit. The fire crackled on and cast out a soft light around the campsite, which had been nothing more than a slightly barren spot just a short ways off from the road, and a cricket made it’s famous sound in the distance.

“So, what brings you all the way out this far West?” The pegasus asked. He had determined her fur was orange, as her coat sleeves still left a bit to the open on her hinds (her cutie mark was that of a scroll, two wings on its sides), though her goggles she left on still at the moment.

“Peddling.” He answered simply.

“Peddling?” She questioned, “What’s that?”

He raised a brow at her, “I sell goods.” He replied, putting more beans in his mouth. She looked over to the large bag he was leaning against, one that was admittingly bigger than her.

“Ooohhh.” She nodded, “So you’re like a merchant then.” She looked around, “But where is your wagon? Or you’re guards?”

“Guards? Why would I need those?” He asked, slurping some beans.

“Well, aren’t you afraid of getting your things stolen?”

He gave her a deadpanned look, and a rose brow.

She seemed to get the hint well, “True enough.” She looked him up and down. He was large, very much so compared to her, though pegasi she knew were even smaller on average than earth ponies, much less something she could compare most similarly to a minotaur, “You seem like you could handle yourself well. I doubt you run into much trouble. Still doesn’t explain why you don’t have a wagon. How can you hope to make a profit with so little?”

He simply shrugged. That gave her mixed feelings.

“Aren’t merchants about making profit?”

“Perhaps, it gets me a few coin for food and bed.”

She looked him over, his clothes were patched and self sewn in many places, as were his blue hued pants, though they seemed faded at the knees and near the ends of his long legs, the color rendered out after long use. His shoes were also dirty and worn, their soles visibly thick even from her place. His hat, one of a style she had seen earth ponies mostly wear, was dark with wear and sweat. He was surely not well off. But she knew she shouldn’t judge. They finished their meals, and night came soon after, total darkness surrounding them besides for the glowing touch of the fire, and the stars and moon high above.

“What is it you are doing out here?” The man questioned, him being the first one to speak this time to her.

If he could see her eyes, he would know what they seemed to almost glow with a near excitement as he asked her, “I run mail!” She boasted proudly, “To all the farthest reaches of Equis! I fly skies few griffons or pegasi dare to fly, and see lands few would even dream of!” She had a wide smile on her face, “High Sky’s the name, daring flights my game!” She finished, a near giggle at the end of her small rant.

He honestly couldn’t hold back a small grin at her declaration, “High Sky, eh?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yep! That’s me! Been flying packages since I was a filly. Been in the postal game for years. Right now I’m coming down from Tall Tale to run through a few villages. Most of them don’t have posts, ya’know?”

He was impressed, Tall Tale was near sixty miles North, she had to have been flying for days now, all for a few envelopes, “That’s quite a thing.” He said, sipping some water from one of his canteens.

“And what about you?” High Sky added, “You’ve been…peddling since you were a calf?”

“We call our young children, not calfs.” He clarified, to which the pegasus nodded, “And no, not been in the business that long. Started quite recently actually. Only been about...well, I’m not so sure. Two or three years, maybe? I lose track.” He admitted.

“Yeah, well, somepony can do alot in a few years.” High Sky said.

The man nodded in agreeance, “Yep...lots of stuff.” His words trailed away as he looked up at the moon, “It’s late. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got to walk, and that means getting up early.” He said, putting his canteen away, and unzipping a large pouch on his bag.

“Oh, well, I suppose I can keep it quiet, I do like to lay down for a bit before dozing off. Look at the stars, ya’know?” High Sky then took to her own saddlebags, from which she pulled a small sleeping bag and laid it out. The human was not so lucky, he had a simple blanket of which he laid out as well, though he only had the blanket. The two laid opposites to one another, the fire between them, it’s kindling soft and dying. They were both soon left in darkness, and the man looked up at the starry sky and, as he had many times before, made out constellations which might not have actually been there. Aquarius...Sagittarius...Taurus...even now he was not sure if he was imagining them or not. But, the lack of familiar starry formations didn’t keep their glow from feeling almost warm to him, a reassurance perhaps, a sign that he was still there. It turned out he also liked looking at the stars.

Dawn came with the smell of coffee, and the two travelers sat together again in the low light of morning, each sipping from small copper cups. It wasn’t great coffee, but it was coffee none-the-less, and that was all he cared about. High Sky herself had her own coffee, but he insisted she have some of his, considering the pot was already done by the time she woke up. She seemed to like her’s less like a coffee, powdered cream and some sugar cubes going into her own cup from a small tin she had. He had his black. He covered the fire and took his stones, a perfect set that he had found over many searches, and placed them in his bag. Blowing off the ash, he picked up his blackened regenerative log from its place in the pit and back into a side sack it went. High Sky watched him go back and forth, and was even more convinced of his own confidence. He was a giant of a creature, though the moment he put on his pack, he slouched down heavily. After a moment they were both up and prepped for the road and sky ahead.

“Say...” The man started, “Think I could interest you in some spare goods?” He asked her, his heavy stick in hand, the grin of a man with the thought of coins on his face.

High Sky stopped as she collected her bags, “I suppose why not? What kind of goods do you have?” She asked, craning her neck up to him.

He was silent for a moment, as if lost in thought as he looked her over, “I’ve got many things, but here is something I think you really would like.” He put his bag down, and unzipped it, and, rummaging around, he pulled out some colorful red ribbons. High Sky knew exactly what they were: wing ribbons, and she eyed them enthusiastically. They were of a deep rose red, and had intricate sews of gold embroidered in them, and just from how the human held them before her she knew they had to be of high quality. “These are silk lighteners.” He explained, “Sewn in Los Pegasus and embroidered in Canterlot. Very expensive. But to you, cheap!” He declared.

High Sky couldn’t seem to get her eyes off the pair he held, “How much?” She asked simply.

“Shall we call fifty bits?” He said.

She recoiled, but not for the reason one might think, “Fifty bits?! These had to have cost a pony 200 at a designer! How can you part with these at such a low price?” She questioned.

The human gave that simple shrug.

High Sky looked at the ribbons, “Can I feel them at least?”

He handed her one of the two he held, and she gripped them in her hoof. They were as soft as velvet, and her flesh nearly melted at its touch; these had to have been enchanted as well. Usually she would be wary of a stranger, especially such a strange one as this human, but the look, feel, and even the smell of the ribbons let her know they were as real as the ground she stood on. High Sky looked up confidently to him, “I’ll take them.” She nodded.

Coin was passed, and she tied the ribbons to the joint of her wings, and she felt the tension and stress they had been building up for the past few days fall away into nothingness. They did in fact work. “Thank you.” She smiled up at the man.

He smiled back, “No, thank you.” The jingling of coins in his hand disappeared as he put them in a pouch on his bag, and reequipped the travel-pack to his back.

“Well, I suppose this is farewell.” High Sky nodded behind her goggles, of which she had oddly kept on their whole time together.

“Yes, it so seems.” He agreed, gripping his stick tight.

They sat there for a moment together, surely they hadn’t had much interaction with others in some time, and this was the first they had in many days. But, they both knew that it was time to go their separate ways, and with heavy hooves High Sky turned, flapped her wings and took to the skies, where she disappeared into the vast horizon. He couldn’t help but give off a sigh; he was willing to admit he wished she had stayed. But, such was the way of his life, and he stood up as tall as he could, and started down the road, his only regrets being not sharing his name, and not seeing her eyes...ponies did always have funny looking eyes.

Author's Note

And so it begins.

Let me know your thoughts, be they good, bad, or ugly, it's what keeps me going!