Different

You jolt awake, panting in quite a cold sweat, batting at your eyes to attempt to clear out some of your disorientation. It only takes a few seconds to remember just what had happened...

You’d been dreaming, and it had been a normal day. That rainbow pony showed up again, and greeted you cheerfully, smiling, and you do much the same. You felt glad to see her, excessively so...perhaps a little too much. She expressed a rather interesting delight, lowering her voice and stepping too close for comfort, forcing you to shut your eyes tight, at which point you woke up.

Evidently, you kept your promise to remember Rainbow Dash, both consciously and unconsciously.  But...not in the way you’d thought. In fact, her dream self’s words shed a little light: “You won’t ever forget me, will you...?”

You shudder, turning to the window and hoping it’s daytime once more so that you can shake off this half-nightmare. Luckily, it is, and you flop out of bed, leaving your sheets unkempt and your pillows flattened down behind you. A little bit of breakfast helps to soothe your mind, taking your mind off of her for a brief moment.

Sunny seems to have left the house, off in another one of her ‘performances’ with her friend. The quiet is welcome, but rather boring. I’d rather not spend all day sitting around, you think to yourself, of course agreeing with yourself. What needed to be done...?

Well, when you thought about it, nothing really. So you instead make the decision to roam around a bit, and to clear your mind. A lot of the pain from teasing, jeers, and insults was often abated by nothing more than a simple, short walk, and you figure nightmares are no different. Making sure you look fairly presentable, you head outside into the sunlight.

It feels remarkably warm today, in a way that pierces your skin and radiates right to the bone-not that it’s bad, of course. You set off for what you remember as the marketplace, trotting at a fairly relaxed pace to get your blood flowing. Though the ground is unyielding, the feeling of keeping a pace just above a brisk canter feels...good, in a way. You weren’t always the most athletic pony, but you did admit that it felt good to exercise a little.

The market ground is fairly empty, because, obviously, it isn’t Market Day. The only sights are a few other wandering ponies much like you, seemingly off to another part of town and not giving a hoot about where they passed through. One was the grey mailmare Ditzy Doo, another was this small purple dragon that you never quite talked to, and there was Rainbow Dash-

You jump as you realize that yes, in fact, there was the Rainbow Dash right in front of you-well, off to the side, but you found that close enough, moving at a brisk pace along the ground-not flying, but a fairly quick jog. In fact, you’re so enraptured watching her, that you neglect to see the lamppost right in front of you.

SMACK!

The impact is so hard, so full-contact, that it makes the aforementioned ‘smack’ sound, even leaving a slight ringing sound behind in the air. It’s enough to catch the attention of everypony in the vicinity, and to cause you to fall flat on your flank, your cheeks turning just about as red as your face at the embarrassment. You even hear somepony laughing, and to your dismay, it’s none other than the pony you were...no, it wasn’t oogling-at.

You drop your head in shame, rubbing at your forehead as it seems to be developing a bruise. You can hear the sound of hoof (and claw steps, if that’s what you think dragon footsteps are called) steps resume, thankfully putting aside your embarrassing blunder. You make to get up, before blinking as a hoof suddenly juts in front of you.

“Need a little...” This is punctuated by a snicker that seems all too familiar. “...help, there?”

You turn, and surprisingly enough, it’s Rainbow Dash, though her features are certainly no surprise-she’s struggling to hold in a laughing fit as much as she can, and doing a remarkable job considering how stupid you looked, in likelihood. You aren’t quite sure if the ‘need help’ thing is a joke, but her hoof remains out, and you take the offered help, swaying slightly as you balance back on all four hooves once again.

“How’d you do that?” The question is something you expected, and you half consider learning teleportation in a second or less so you can get the heck out of there, but unfortunately, you lack much of the cranial (and arcane) capacity needed to do so.

Like any respectable colt, however, you pony up to your mistake: “I was looking at something.”

She chuckles, obviously quite amused by your rendezvous with a pole, before rolling her eyes. “Like what? I don’t think I know many things that can cause me to smack into a pole.”

You consider raising an eyebrow towards her, but realize it’ll only give you away that you were looking at her, and not a giant-mutant-frog-pony-dog-owl-lizard-dragon hybrid. Instead, you try your best at feebling off an excuse. “I, uh...I don’t really tend to look at anything while I’m jogging.” You also consider a facehoof, but you also realize that you both know how stupid that sounds.

Incredibly lucky for you, however, she picks up your miserable excuse at a diversion, and actually follows it. “You do morning jogs too? Huh. From that scrawny figure...” she pokes at you, causing you to jump back. “...I’d hardly think you did anything at all.”

You roll your eyes-sure, you diverted the topic from how your face seemed to be infatuated with Mrs. Pole, but now you were on the topic of how...yes, OK, you were skinny-most ponies had a certain ‘filled-out’ aspect to them, whereas you were rather...weakly built for a stallion. “Yeah, I do. It’s my metabolism that’s the problem.” You can finally say something that’s both true, and not stupid-one thing you’d never been called was ‘fat’, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, well you should do it more.” The pegasus turns around, back in her original direction (which happens to be pointed away from you). “Come on, see if you can keep up with me!” And just like that, she sets off again, though not nearly as slow as before. Unfortunately, despite your eventual reclusive nature, you never could turn down a challenge.

And so you set off, having to go much beyond a trot, all the way up to where you find yourself running: not quite galloping, but somewhat having to be just in between the two to even keep up with her.

She turns to the side, and though you can’t see her expression through her mane, which seems to be blowing all over the place, she speaks up. “See? Just go about this fast, and you’ll build up your endurance in no time!”

Endurance? She thought this was a speed that you could keep for a good hour or so? Well, maybe if you were under some sort of spell, but elsewise, no way you could keep that pace. Unfortunately, you suspected she was right, though-the more you did it, the better you’d get. That being said, she definitely did it a lot: her build was definitely a lot more muscle-heavy than most mares you’d ever seen, and sadly, a little bit more than yourself. “Good to know!” You shout over the wind as she seems to speed up even more.

A minute later, you find yourself huffing and panting, just about considering forgetting the pegasus and turning back to your walk, but just as suddenly as she’d begun, she gives a slight hop, before stopping with what seems to be a controlled skid, coming to a complete halt in no less than 5 feet. Unfortunately, your momentum seemed to have carried, and there was another pole right in your sight. You mentally curse her for picking such a moment, and then you close your eyes, bracing for impact.

The expected smack to the head doesn’t come, and you open your eyes as you realize that it’s only inches from your nose. Somehow, you seem to have stopped yourself, but with almost no time to spare. You silently thank Celestia for sparing your muzzle, before turning back to Rainbow, who seems to be watching you with interest.

“You aren’t that athletic, are you? You can’t even stop very quickly.” Still panting, you nod, and she appears to think-she isn’t even winded, winded, you notice, perfectly calm and free of any exertion. “Eh, I like a challenge...”

Wait, what? “A...challenge?” Yes, you still sound stupid, but you need answers. “Yeah, a challenge.” You freeze as you hear a sudden creaking sound, which started when you leaned against the pole of death, but you shrug. Not all poles are perfectly rigid. “I suppose helping a weak guy like you get into what he could be isn’t that hard.”

“But...you hardly know me.” The creaking seems to be louder.

“Oh...right.” She frowns. “Alright then, what’s your name?”

“Clarence Trill.”

“Cutie mark represents?”

“A trill.”

“Which means?”

“I play the clarinet good?”

“There.” She smiles sarcastically. “Now I know you.” She frowns-the creaking gets even louder, but the source is indeterminate, at least to her. “Anyways...I’ll be off. I have to go meet one of my friends for a party. But I’ll be seeing you sometime, try to whip you into shape, all right?”

You nod. “Alright. See you la-whoa!” The last part is nothing but pure reflex. You find yourself teetering backwards, but catch yourself.The pole no longer supports you, and really unfortunately, she doesn’t notice that you had another pole-related incident.

Or rather, unfortunate for her. She’s just walking off in lieu of jogging, and the pole has stopped creaking, instead opting to fall slowly out of its supports-you notice a small hole around the bottom, a sloppily done excavation which looks like a bunch of foals tried to test their skills at digging near, of all places, a lamp-post. Regardless of who did it, it seems to be falling, and unless Rainbow Dash enjoys being a pancake, you feel that you probably have to do something.

Acting purely on impulse, you sight out the situation: you have about 3 seconds before the rainbow pony becomes a rainbow pancake. The pole isn’t going to slow down, and both your magic and your physical being aren’t strong enough to hold it up once it has momentum. Your only hope seems to be a running dash, shoving her just far enough to the side to be out of the way-the area of impact isn’t too large, and you think you can get out fairly easily.

Not wasting another second, you sprint towards her, about twice as fast as what had left you winded-your lungs burn, and your legs ache, but it gives you a much needed speed boost. However, you neglect to remember not to run out of synch, and just as you stretch your hooves out to give her a quick shove, your hind legs cross, sending you just a little bit too forward, and just a little bit too off balance.

She gets pushed into, and beyond the safe line that you so ingeniously drew in your mind, but you end up falling flat on your stomach, much to your dismay. You only have roughly a second to see her spin around as quickly as possible, indignant as can be, and shout, “What the hay was that for?”, before everything goes to crud.

You did have some momentum, so you do not become a pony pancake, either, seeing as you managed to get yourself out of the center. However, even your frenzied, panicked scrabblings with your forehooves, don’t save you from the pole, which finally comes to a painful rest across both your hind legs.

You hear another creaking sound, though you are absolutely sure that it isn’t the pole anymore, and pain instantly shoots up both of your legs, moreso in your left than your right-if you had anything to thank right now, it had been the awkward way you tripped. Your thanks are rather short lived, however, as it quickly proves to be a little bit much for your overall low physical tolerance.

The last thing you see is her sudden expression change, from ‘pissed off’ to something between shocked, a wince, and a strange sense of...well, humor, but she’s smart enough not to show it, because a pole just fell onto your legs.

The last thing you hear is her sudden cries for help as you continue feebly scrabbling at the ground, hoping that the lifeless dirt will come to your aid, before she herself attempts to lift the pole off you, to serve little success.

Your last thought is that you really, really hate poles now.