Chapter 2

“Come on, Morgan…” Arthur sighed as he rubbed his temples. “Just calm down and relax.”

Although he desperately wanted to, Arthur couldn’t help but feel his heart beat at a rapid pace. It all just didn’t seem to make sense, how the hell could it? One minute he was on a ridge of a mountain, wheezing and coughing, beaten and bloody, and all alone and felt himself die. Next thing he knew, he was alive and well in a forest but in the body of something else entirely.

“There’s gotta be some kind of explanation to all this. I mean…I am in Hell, right?” He asked himself.

Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know what to expect Hell to even look like before his demise. He somewhat expected to see fire and demons everywhere, maybe be met with all the lives he took, but instead he was in a peaceful looking forest. Arthur looked up to the blue sky and narrowed his eyes.

“I just don’t understand it all.” Arthur said with a scowl. “You, oh great Lord above, this some kind of sick joke? I mean, what the hell even am I?! I ain’t no horse! I’m a man, always have been!”

Rant as he did, Arthur knew he would not receive and answer. He wasn’t the smartest man around, but he wasn’t a fool. Though he could not explain it, he knew, deep down, that he was alive again. Only this time not as a man, but as a walking talking horse man.

“Shit…well, guess I better head into town. Wherever town even is.”

Arthur stood up, wobbling a little as he made his way back to the tree he found himself under. He was the kind of person not to let petty things like learning how to walk get in his way. After a few trips, face-plants, and fumbles here and there, the gunslinger managed to find a steady pace of walking on his new hooves. He looked around the tree to see something quite unexpected. At the base of the tree was his hat, his old satchel, his lasso, his knife, and one of his other pistol’s laying on the ground in its holster.

“Now how in the hell did these things end up here?” Arthur wondered. He picked up his holster and pulled the gun out to inspect it.

“Ol’ Calloway’s piece, huh, go figure.” Arthur said as he holstered it back and clipped it on his belt. He then picked up his knife and lasso and sighed.

“Not sure why these things’re here, but I guess it’s fortunate I ain’t defenseless.” He said as he clipped them both on his belt as well.

Arthur leaned down and picked up his satchel. It was his old satchel he had in the beginning since he gave his newer one he had made before to John. When he opened the flap, he saw that he had a good amount of bullets, a few apples, some canned food, boxes of cigarettes, a couple of bottles of liquor, and some tonics here and there.

Arthur smirked as he pulled out a box of cigarettes and opened it to pull out a light stick. He placed it in between his lips and pulled out a match box. He then lifted his…hoof…and swiped the match to light it. He held the tiny flame up to his cigarette and lit it as he breathed in the burning tobacco. The last thing Arthur did before heading off was pick up his hat. He gazed at it with a frown as he took a puff from his cigarette.

“Thought I gave you to John.” Arthur sighed. “Guess you’re stickin’ with me even in death, huh partner?” He smirked as he put his hat on his head and tipped it. With everything set, Arthur looked around and began to head West. “Here goes nothin’ I suppose. I just hope I don’t end up in a circus or somethin’…”

Arthur’s trek had lasted about an hour as he walked along the path he had found a little while after he was traversing through the forest. He couldn’t help but admire the beauty of this supposed new world he found himself in. Sure, he still somewhat believed he was in Hell and this was all but an illusion, but at least he could take the time to enjoy the scenery. He looked down at his hands again and over his shoulder to see his tail. It was probably the strangest thing to see what he had become and he still couldn’t wrap his head around it, no matter how much he tried.

Since there was no point to dwell on what’s done since it’s done, he shook his head and reached into his satchel to pull out an apple to eat it. As soon as he raised the fruit to his mouth, he heard a commotion in the distance that made him pause. He looked to the side and noticed there was a small town in the distance which made him smirk, knowing he finally found civilization. He smiled as he put the apple back in his satchel. His pace quickened as he walked and the town became more clear. It was only when he reached the tree line did he stop dead in his tracks. Within the town were creatures that made his breath hitch a bit. Horses, walking, talking horses wearing clothes were seen within the town. Arthur hid behind a tree and shook his head.

“What the shit?!” He muttered to himself. “The hell are those things?! Horses can’t walk on two legs! Let alone have hands and…be so damn colorful!” Arthur peered from behind the tree to see that he indeed wasn’t hallucinating. Those walking horses, they were real, all too real as was the sun that shined down from above. “I just can’t believe it, this all feels like some kind of sick fever dream. Speaking of which, why have I not coughed once yet?” Arthur tried to ponder his situation as he took a few more deep breaths to try and calm down. Though as he did, there was no pain like he expected, once again, from his tuberculosis. It felt like he never had the illness in the first place, which was an even stranger unexplainable conundrum he discovered.

“Jeezus…I gotta get a handle on things.” Arthur grumbled.

He peered over his shoulder once more to examine the situation. The horses seemed to not be a hostile bunch, from what he could tell, since some of them were even smiling. There were males, the stallions, who some were as colorful as the other and some who looked kinda like him. The females, the mares, that looked small but kinda cute, if Arthur was somewhat honest. The only weird part about them was that they had bodies like that of humans but had the heads of horses. Though upon closer inspection, Arthur felt that, for some reason, it didn’t feel right to call them horses. Sure they had hooves, muzzles, and ears on their head, but they seemed to have smaller features than that of a horse.

Arthur looked down at himself. He was tall as a man back home, and still pretty tall as a horse man. If he were to take a wild guess, he’d probably be taller than every one of these horse people. Arthur scanned the area and noticed their weren’t any electrical poles around; not a one to be seen, so that meant there wasn’t any electricity in this town.

Just then, he noticed a key feature from the ponies that differed some from the rest. While some mirrored his own appearance somewhat, there were also some horse people with horns in their head. He even saw some with wings like a bird’s on their backs which puzzled the gunslinger. It was only when he looked up to see some horse people fly in the air that made his breathing hitch again and hide behind the tree.

“Holy Jeezus! They’re flyin’! They fuckn’ flying with damn wings on their backs!” Arthur yelped. “Are they demons? No, if they were they wouldn’t look like that. Although…I’m not so sure no more.”

So many questions plagued the gunslinger’s mind: Where was he? Why was he here? How was he still alive? Why was he a horse man? What was this town? Why were there people who looked like him? How could they be able to fly like that?

All these questions made Arthur dizzy as he so desperately wanted the answers. Just then, he heard some more commotion from a little ways from the town. He noticed a red building that looked like some kind of school house, which was a little comforting since it was one building that looked familiar to him. He saw that there were a group of smaller horse people, children, and there seemed to be some kind situation.

One of them had a red mane and tail and yellow fur and orange eyes, she had a pink bow in her mane and was wearing blue jeans and a green shirt. Next was an orange furred horse girl with purple spiked mane and tail, along with violet eyes. She was wearing a grey hoodie and green shorts. The last was a white furred horse girl with a pink and purple mane and tail and light green eyes. She was wearing a yellow skirt and purple and white horizontal striped shirt and dark pink coat. Next to the horse girls was a small boy with white and brown fur and a dark brown mane and tail wearing kaki pants and a blue shirt. They seemed to be frowning at two other horse girls and sounded like they were having an argument.

One wore a tiara and wore a yellow jacket with a black top and white skirt. The other wore a pair of glasses and a purple top and pink dress. Arthur crept a little bit closer so he could listen in on the conversation.

“What do you guys want?” The orange girl asked glaring at the two others.

“Just wondering what a group of blank flanks like you are doing. You’ll never get your cutie marks if you stick together. In fact, I don’t think you’ll ever get your cutie marks at all!” The one with the tiara mocked, earning a laugh from her friend.

“You both shut up!” The boy said, with a British accent. “We’ll get out cutie marks our own way! You don’t have the right to say we’ll never get them!”

What’s this nonsense they’re talkin’ about? The hell is even a cutie mark? Arthur wondered.

The one with the glasses sneered as she raised her hands and actually pushed the boy on to the ground. Arthur’s fists clenched as the boy began to cry and the two laughed at him.

“Bullies…” Arthur hissed as he emerged from behind the tree. “I hate bullies.”

As he slowly walked over to the group, the fillies continued to bad mouth their victims.

“Look at you, so pathetic! No wonder you don’t have your cutie marks! You’re all a bunch of losers who will remain blank flanks for life!” The one with glasses mocked.

“How dare you push him like that?! He didn’t do anything wrong!” The white filly squealed in anger.

“Hmph! He had the nerve to talk back to me, of course I had the right to push him! Maybe if he wasn’t an ugly and weak orphan, then he could at least have the guts to properly speak for himself!” The one with the tiara scoffed, making Arthur’s anger skyrocket.

This little bitch needs a whoopin’… Arthur seethed as he neared the group.

Just as the one with the bow was about to retort, she and her friends finally took notice of Arthur. Their eyes widened as their heads slowly looked upwards at the large stallion who loomed over the unsuspecting bullies with a glare.

“What? Got nothing else to say? Did I finally get it through your thick heads that-”

“Ahem!”

Both girls flinched as they slowly turned around and looked up to Arthur. The shadow from his hat hid his eyes but not his muzzle as he frowned down at the now shivering girls. Arthur moved his head so that his eye could be seen and the girls noticed that he was giving them a death glare, which made them cower in fear.

“Git!” Arthur snapped.

Without any further hesitation, the two girls ran for the hills as Arthur scoffed at their cowardice. His attention was now on the group of children he supposedly rescued who were looking up at him in slight fear. Arthur sighed as he knelt down to look at them at eye level. He reached up to take off his hat, once he did he smiled at the children who seemed to relax a little more.

“Y’all alright?” Arthur asked in a warm tone. They didn’t answer as Arthur looked down at the boy who was still on the ground. He raised his other hand and offered it to him. “Come on, boy, let’s get you up now.” The boy was hesitant but accepted his offer and grabbed his hand. Arthur then lifted him up with ease and even patted him down with his hat to get the dust off.

“Who…are you, mister?” The boy asked.

Arthur smiled as he put his hat back on and tipped it.

“Name’s Arthur Morgan, son, pleasure to meet you.”

Author's Note

His first interaction, a noble deed of many.

Hope you enjoyed!

~WurkyWilk has left the building…