Back , from the Fashion Museum:

Chapters

The Return: 1
A New Day: 3
After Class (A Trot in the Park): 4
At the Track (On the other Side): 5
Out, for: 6
At Home: 2

The Return: 1

I had just closed the door, to our home; looking at my sister taking her shoes off, as I am locking the door.

It had been quite the adventure, but now we finally are back home; inspired and excited, but worn down and tired.

The floor is still laid with the same mate, black ceramic tiles as when we had left. The wall is painted a neutral greyish blue. Nothing fancy, but it’s acceptable at least. After the trip to the museum, I am questioning what our home is like; as Rarity had put everything in a stark, new light. Though these things, are out of my hands; I don’t own the building, or even the contract on the apartment.

Our jackets hang over the shoe-rack, where the shoes are lying in wait, for when they are needed and used.

I hang up my jacket on an unused hanger, step out of my shoes and place them on the right side on the upper floor of the shoe-rack. Now I pick up my back-pack I had carried with me on the trip, before I walk over to the door to the living-room and open the door.

My sister follows me out of the cloaking-room and closes the door behind herself. Of course, she is the younger of us; she tends to be a step after me, in most everything. However, we do share many interests, hobbies and passions and we love helping one another out with most everything. Well, why not? She is a friend, and an ally; the one girl, I know I can trust utterly and completely with anything and everything.

I walk through the living-room floor to the door to our rooms. There is a small hall, maybe four by four feet; between our two rooms. The third door leads to the minimal girls’ room.

I open the door to my room, step in and close the door behind me. My floor is laid with a lusciously green linoleum carpet, and the walls had been painted in a fairly deep blue to indigo hue. Unfortunately, the ceiling is just the boring old white.

On the right side, I have my bed. I made it myself, as I stepped out of bed; early in the morning, before we left for the trip to the museum.

I have a black cotton bed sheet. The pillowcase is a bright, deep purple. My quilt is covered with happy little Ponies. Small, cute and happy little horses. They are bright and colourful, just the way I like them.

On the foot end of the room, I have my wardrobe. A pair of them, with double doors for easy access.

Only once I had closed the door to my room, do I set the back-pack down and open it; trusting I am safe, to examine the price I had purchased and acquired at the trip. Knowing my sister is on her room, doing exactly what I am doing here in my room. While I am not sure of exactly what she had bought. Though I am fairly sure, she had bought something there as well. Why wouldn’t she? It had been expected, and it is why we carried so much money on the trip in the first place.

Buying a few souvenirs is expected. Just as it is half by half implied you buy yourself something as you are there. Either it is for yourself, or it is a gift planned for someone at the next occasion.

Naturally, I had bought myself a few items on the trip; both for fun, and as mementos of the trip. I want to remember this trip, with all the joy I had experienced; as we visited the museum, commemorating Rarity’s achievements. Showcasing her creations and fashions, as well as demonstrating just how far she had managed to get.

I had bought myself a later edition and replica of one of her first accomplishments; the ears and tail, originally in the CSH colours. This particular piece had later served her; and the school well in an event; gathering all the school spirit, under the banner of Twilight Sparkle. Maybe I just wanted to bring home this, in the hopes I could share and take part in the spirit.

As I unzip the backpack, I had placed by the side of my bed; this is the first part I pick up. Though I am also unpacking a copy of Octavia’s master-pieces. I will be treasuring this music collection available on both CD and MP3 on a USB stick. The latter will be working well on my own devices along with the option of playing the CDs on the stereo.

After all; Octavia had become the foremost of Solo Cellists, both composing and performing on her very own Cello. I know, I will be playing these records; when I am studying, because I think they will be just right for that.

For now; I am placing the collection, on my nightstand.

Of course; I had bought another set of these adorable Pony-ears, only this set comes with a matching muzzle and have ear-buds and microphone incorporated into the design. I imagine; Octavia’s companion Vinyl Scratch may have a finger in the design. She is otherwise known, as DJ Pon3 among her numerous fans. Though I guess, there are influences clearly found in the works of both artists.

First I place the package onto the night stand; before I am opening it, extracting the ears I promptly put on. I feel the set covering my ears, like regular headsets and ear-phones would; but without the music playing, I naturally hear no music or difference to the surrounding sounds in the room. However, I barely feel my ears covered, in the manner the common head-phones would have.

”I probably should be putting on a CD of Octavia’s, just to hear the music as she would have..” I ponder.

If only I had known, just how correct my initial assumption is. How could I have known?

As I continue, it slowly dawns upon me; just how little the perception through the equine ears change my perception, as I continue to unpack my back-pack. The realization, gradual.

”Feels better, than I had been expecting!” I mumble, to myself.

I pick up the small box, containing the matching muzzle to go with the ears; but decides against opening it, putting it on right now. It would decidedly be cool to wear, but I guess now is not quite the time. Maybe I put it on, as I had unpacked?

Now I am picking up the lunch box, placing this on my desk. Finally, I get to the package containing the suit; placing this onto my bed, while I continue to unpack the back-pack.

”A pair of stockings!” I ponder; ”Set of Rarity’s Pony stockings” the label reads; as I am picking up the package, putting it onto the bed.

”A set..” I ponder; ”how many pairs would that be?” I continue; ”One, two, three, or five?” I mumble, somewhat confused.

Maybe I should have red the text on the package, with more care? It does contain two pairs of stockings, in a more Equine manner; just as the Pony has a pair of fore and hind legs onto which to slip the stockings onto.

I had seen some of the images, printed onto the package; thinking nothing of it, ignoring the point made.

”You wear your socks or stockings on your feet!” I had pondered, as I found this package of this product.

Of course, I do wear socks, or stockings on my feet; and particularly under shoes, if and when I do go out. It is, what they were made for. Isn’t it?

For a moment, I had stopped to ponder; to consider the package, I had bought for myself. Before I reach down, once more; unzipping the side-pocket, where I had stored Rarity’s designer glasses. Just a small memento, of the trip; never realizing, exactly what these glasses truly are. How were I to know, what they were meant for, or how much they were to mean for me?

Just as I had zipped the side-pocket closed, I open the box and put the stylish glasses on; placing the box onto my desk, upon which I used to do most of my homework. Placing the box had been unconsciously, and with nary a thought.

I never used glasses, before; not even sunglasses, but I never had felt the use or need before.

However, the sense of the glasses just lends me a different sense and perspective on the surroundings. I feel a new sense of purpose and urgency, just by wearing these glasses. Maybe, just maybe; they do lend me a focus; on what I have before me I had never experienced before.

”Curious..” I ponder; ”as if Rarity herself had called out to me, for me to have these glasses!” I continue.

With the glasses on, I turn my attention back to the content of my back-pack. The first thing I find, is a large package, containing the pristine, white suit I had bought at the museum. I had chosen a white suit, inspired by Rarity herself, and I had to have the suit in the pristine hue for this very reason. Nothing else, would have made any sense to me. Though I guess having a second suit in a light pink would still be both fine and fun. I had still opted against buying the skin-tone suit; both on the economical standpoint, as well on the account that I could not squeeze in a second package in the back-pack.

I had bought no jewelry or accessories, based on the notion of the equine style. I don’t consider her glasses an accessory, but rather an aide to help me so or improve my focus on the work at hand. Or, is it at hoof?

The ears and the tail only makes me feel as if I am a Pony, that does not count as an accessory. The muzzle is just going with the ears, completing the impression of being closer to Rarity in her Equine form. Even if I know, the Rarity who designed all these beauties is a girl. Just as I am.

”Only one more thing, to make the impression complete..” I ponder, as I am pulling out the final items.

What at first just looks like an innocent, white plastic toy; is the horn, making me into a Unicorn just as Rarity herself. Maybe it is silly and excessive on my part, but I could spare the coins required to purchase these final items.

At first, I had considered to just put on my regular cloves over; but thought better of it, after some consideration. I had ended up buying a skirt and top to go with the ensemble. Oh, look at that; my thoughts and vocabulary is even conforming to her stylish, precise expressions.

On second thought, I am picking up a disc, slipping it into my old CD player; hitting play as I had adjusted the volume to the correct level. The music soon fills the tube with its beautiful tranquility and puts me into a comfortable ease I had not quite been expected a mere moment before.

With the package on my bed, as the music is playing; I am turning back, opening the package to see what is inside. Not so much, that I do not know what is inside; just that I feel the urge, to extract the suit so I can see and feel it in the comfort of my own room.

As I pull it out, I feel the soft and smooth fabric in my hands; slowly laying it onto my bed, almost as if it had been my sister laying there now. Her beautiful, white skin; clearly visible, as she lies on the bed perfectly relaxed and relaxing. It feels, almost as if she is looking at me; listen to me, as I continue.

For a moment, I just stand there, quietly; attentively ogling the suit, as she is lying on my bed, resting in wait for what is to come. For what I am about to do. What I could not make myself, not do.

I take a step back, blinking. Winking, at her.

I close my eyes, looking away; walking over to my wardrobe, tears in my eyes. The beauty, before me; resting in my bed, waiting. Waiting for me.

Should I call her Rarity?

For the brief moment, as I close my eyes; I had walked away, turning to my wardrobe.

I open my eyes, as I am facing the door to the wardrobe; opening the door, almost as if I had pictured it shielding me. Shielding me, but from what?

I slip my skirt down, bending over; as I am picking it up, placing it on a hanger in my wardrobe. The hanger goes on the left side. Now I pull the top up, over my head; pulling it off of me, placing it on the next hanger. Half done, half naked; I stand quiet, as the memory slowly creeps into the focus of my mind. I can no longer ignore her.

I want to wear the suit, and I know she wants it too.

She is Rarity, the Rarity to me; but otherwise, she had just been that one pristine white suit. Now she lies on my bed, waiting for me. She is awaiting me, while I take the time; slipping out of my clothes, so I could be her.

With the top and the skirt, now hanging in the wardrobe; I slip the panties down, stepping out of them; before I pick them up, leaving them on the next hanger. Reaching down, towards my right and left sock respectively; pulling them off of my feet in turn, as I lift the foot to make it easier for my socks to slip off of my feet. Momentarily affording the white, cotton socks a moment; before I leave them in my wardrobe, with the rest of what I wore on their hanger.

One ensemble, hanging on their respective hangers; waiting for me to pick them up; for me to choose them or leave them to be washed if I did not feel like wearing them.

Taking a step back, closing the door of my wardrobe, before I turn back towards the bed and take the few steps.

”These stockings, will be great with this suit!” I remember Rarity suggesting, back at the museum.

I am moving slow, in the rather cramped space that is my room. There is no point, in moving fast; the room is too small, for there to be any saved time worth the effort.

However, I soon do reach the bed upon which the suit lies; nude, as I am. Since I am alone in the room, the door securely closed, it does not bother me, even if my sister is in the next room.

The suit is still feeling cold to the touch, but I have not touched her or worn her yet. Her skin is feeling sleek and slippery at first, though as she is warming up to my touch; she is starting to feel more like skin and turns slightly grabby under my fingers. Something I had been ill prepared for, but I am not about to turn back now.

Upon closer inspection, there is no zipper, and her skin is fairly thick under my fingers; as I am lifting up the suit, I had been looking forward to wear since the instant I lay eyes upon her at the shop at the museum.

While her skin may be on the thick side, being more skin-like than fabric-like in the first place; it is soft and elastic in a manner that makes me feel it is her skin. Not a mere suit in my hands.

As I had lifted her up, in my hands; I had taken a moment, to feel her elasticity by stretching the neck in anticipation.

Finally, I am lifting up my right foot, slipping it into the neck-entrance and slide my foot down; feeling her swallow it with eager, practiced ease. I feel my foot, slowly slide down, entering the leg, and all the way down into the foot. With just a bit of wriggling my toes, I have confirmed that it is on just right. A perfect fit, just as I had been promised.

Now, I am repeating the process; slipping my left foot in after the right, feeling it slide down into its position. I do wriggle my toes, for just a moment; curiously feeling, how my foot and toes had slipped in into the correct position.

With a firm, yet gentle grip; I pull up the suit with unexpected ease, feeling the slight pressure hugging my legs and all the way up over my waist.

There is a strange sensation, reminding me and urging me to slip my hands in. As I slip my right and left hand in; I lift my arms up towards the ceiling, feeling the suit slide up with eager anticipation. A mere moment later, the suit covers my skin, all the way up over my neck; leaving only my head, and my face bare.

”Oh..” I mumble.

There is a knock on the door, and my sister is stepping into the room; her eyes focusing on me, as I am wearing the suit. I instantly notice her wearing the muzzle and the ears. She is also wearing her tail, I realize an instant later.

”Just as fabulous, as I had been expecting!” she responds, just after she had closed the door behind herself.

”Thanks, Sis..” I respond; ”the muzzle does look just right, on her!” I consider, realizing my own feelings in the process.

”Would you like, for me to help you with the stockings?” she inquires, as she is observing how I had arranged the items I had purchased at the museum.

Though I am quite sure, she knew what I had bought; just as she knew me only too well, anticipating how I had arranged the items in the room while I was unpacking.

”Yes, please!” I respond, giggling in excited anticipation.

”Metallic, electric blue!” she ponders in amusement; as she is opening the package containing the set of stockings.

”Rear stockings, right and left” reads the label on the first pair of my set of stockings.

I watch her, as she is opening the inner package; as she is pulling out a pair of curiously looking stockings. The colour is matching the expectation. The colour, exactly what the package had suggested.

She holds up the right stocking, before me. I lift my right foot, slipping it into the stocking; feeling the tight material slowly swallowing the foot all the way up my thigh. Now she is picking up the second, left stocking; I lift my left foot as I had set my right foot down onto the floor. Now I slide my foot down the length of the stocking.

Once I am standing up, wearing the stockings; she opens the package, containing the second pair of stockings.

”Front stockings, right and left” reads the label on the second pair of my set of stockings.

The second pair of stockings seems to be matching the once I am already wearing, but have specific differences matching the purpose of being worn on my fore-legs. These are not for my hind quarters, of course.

As she is picking up the right stocking, I reach my hand forwards; permitting her, to assist me in putting these stockings on. I feel the material hugging the skin of my hand and arm, as it continuously slides all the way up my arm. It only stops, an inch before my arm-pit. Curious.

At this point, I start to experience a strange sensation akin to a warm tingling all the way over my legs. Though I am not aware of how or why. For now, I am ignoring it, in the hopes it is passing, with no ill effect upon me. I had never experienced any allergy, so I had not expected to have this kind of issue.

She is pulling out the second stocking, and I reach forwards; slipping my hand in into the stocking, as my sister helps me pulling the stocking all the way up my arm. Of course, this is a stocking; not a glove, so it is kind of a curious thing. Maybe I should have been expecting it, but I had not.

Now I feel my legs grow warm, so I move towards my bed; laying down, prone on my belly. From this point, I am looking up; towards my sister, eagerly looking down at me.

While she is looking, my hands and feet slowly change into the appearance of the equine hooves of Rarity.

”I think I know what you need..” she points out, as she is turning away and picks up my Touch-pad.

With a few taps and clicks, she is activating the device; setting it up, to permit me to enjoy it where I am lying in my current situation. She is placing it before me, so that I can see the large screen. I can read the text, with ease; just as I am hearing the voice, of my digital companion or teacher.

As I am watching the opening screen, the text moves over the surface; while she is standing on the right, reading and explaining everything to me.

After a moment, I have become engrossed in her monologue; as she reads and explains the topic at hand. At hoof, I correct myself, considering the situation, as I follow the topic of her lecture.

My sister quietly turns to the door, walking out of the room; opening the door, steps out and close the door behind herself to leave me alone. I had failed to notice her exit.

The lecture is surprisingly entertaining and comprehensive, but I guess I should be blaming Rarity for that.

However, I am hearing the voice as if she had directed her speech towards my equine ears; not as if she had spoken to my human ears as one should have been expecting.

Author's Note

A Summary Introduction:

A New Day: 3

I realize, my sister had helped me, taking the stockings off; as I had finished the study for the day, before I had gone to sleep the other night.

Only now, my feet are feeling strange and unfamiliar to me. After so many hours, with the stockings on; I had grown accustomed to having hooves in place of feet. And hands too, apparently.

As I woke up, I am wearing a pair of white panties and a matching top. These do feel surprisingly comfortable; even if I know, it is a genuine Rarity design. I should not be questioning the quality, but now it just feels so good.

I blink my eyes, a few times; before I am folding the quilt up towards the wall. A moment later, I slide my feet out from under the quilt; sitting up and slide down and out of the bed.

My feet hit the floor with a soft thud, and I find myself standing on my own two feet. Not exactly unexpected.

While the floor is just the same as the day before, it still feels uncomfortably strange and unfamiliar all the same. I can’t quite put a hoof, or finger onto why. Maybe it is just force of habit, after the night before.

While I may have enjoyed wearing the stockings, just as I had enjoyed the comfort they were offering; I had also enjoyed the time as I was studying, with the aid of the touch pad.

I had barely noticed, how the stockings were lending me the equine form. As I had jumped out of bed, landing on my own four hooves, it had felt perfectly normal to me. As if, I had been born to it.

Now, I am feeling strangely uncomfortable; in the human form, I had been born in. Though I am still wearing the muzzle and ears, I had worn the other day. Is that, what is interfering with my self-image? I do not know. Though I guess it is worth, posting as a possibility or theory.

Had I chosen to take the stockings off, because I had expected it to be easier to sleep in my human form? I have no idea. Yet, the noises my feet made, as they hit the floor; much less distinct, quieter than my hooves had been the previous night. Though I guess I should be quieter, considering my feet are so much softer than my hooves could possibly have been.

“Good morning, Sis!” I hear my sister chiming in.

“Good morning, Sis!” I respond, without a thought.

Of course, she is not in the room; but I had just responded, before I had even realized it. As if we had been sharing the room, over-night? That had been ages; since we had done it, last time.

I am looking around, scanning the room in order to recover my bearing. Something had snatched my orientation out of my hands; almost, as if it had been a physical object.

As I am looking around, I soon notice the horn lying on the top of the pile of clothes. My Skirt and blouse, identical to the one my sister is wearing; in every aspect, aside from the colour. Considering she is my twin, my clothes would fit her perfectly; as if she had chosen them for herself. Likewise, her clothes would fit me just as well.

Now I am picking up the horn, holding it in my right hand; examining it for a moment, before I am putting it into place on my forehead. Albeit, somewhat tentatively and cautiously.

I am feeling it; just as she had, the other day. There is a tingling sensation, at the top of my horn; making me focus on it, and in turn focusing on the internal magic. At first, it is just the magic, stored in the horn; as if it had just been a battery, one use to power a flashlight or any other electrical appliance.

While I am focusing, the horn slowly fuses to my forehead. Its white hue, spreading out over the skin of my face. I feel the sensation spreading.

In the light of my magic, I can see the room in a blue tint; the hue matching my eyes, just as it is matching the colour of Rarity’s very own eyes as well. Should I have been shocked, or just surprised?

I focus on my skirt, lifting it up into the air; stepping into it, as it slowly stretches and acquires that perfect fit.

“Curious..”I ponder; “this is fun!” I exclaim, just a moment later.

“I know..” she responds, as if she had been standing there next to me; “but it is time for your breakfast!” she then adds, in a jovial tone.

“Yes, Sis!” I respond; “I just have to finish dressing, and I will be with you in a moment..” I continue.

It is, as if she had been in the room; not, as if she had been invading my mind. Though I had heard the generous tone to her voice, slightly amplified by the presence of Rarity. After all, Rarity is the element of generosity; aside from a skilled and cunning Fashionista and businesswoman to boot.

For a moment, I consider: as my hands move over to the rim of the skirt, where the silicon and skin meets in seamless harmony. I do feel the smooth blending under the tips of my fingers and the palms of my hands. The only difference, between the touch of the skin and the silicone; is the smoothness and sleek slipperiness unmatched, while the skin on my hips and the silicone of the skirts warmth is basically equalized, already.

The hue of my skin, unchanged and the same light pinkish tone as before; while the silicone of the skirt stubbornly remains its original colour as well.

Now I am lifting up the blouse top, slipping my right hand in through the sleeve; pulling it all the way through, before I am repeating the process with my left hand.

As expected, the blouse does fit like a glove. Once I had put it on, I slowly button it up, from the first to the very last button just under my chin. It proved, just as easy as I had been expecting.

Just as I had finished buttoning it up to my chin, there is mary a sign, of the buttons; beyond the printed on signs, of where they had initially been. I may feel the buttons, under the tips of my fingers, but I know I am the only one knowing they are there.

Naturally, I know my sister knows; but just because she is my sister, and because she is wearing an identical blouse top in the first place.

Since I had finished dressing up, I can finally turn towards the door; walking over, only for the door to open all by itself, under the influence of my new-found magic lent to me by Rarity.

It is indeed true, that is it Rarity herself who had designed and crafted the horn on my head; but it is only the initial flicker of magic she had invested into the item, that is now my horn. The horn is on my head, and the magic is mine and mine alone. I did not know I had magic, before; but now I do, thanks to Rarity and her generosity.

Just as the door had opened before me, it is closing behind me; quietly, just as I had walked out of the room. I need but think of it, and it happens; but this is the simplest and most basic of all the magic, known to Unicorns. I may be new to having magic, or at the very least being aware of the fact; but I am old enough, to have reasonable control and focus on what is before me.

I continue, out towards the kitchen where I know my sister is waiting, tripping quietly, on soft feet.
She is indeed waiting for me, in the kitchen; just as I had been expecting, based on what she had just told me.

I know her to be truthful, just as Applejack would have taught her; had we lived in Ponyville, where we could have been sharing any amount of time together. Of course, we are twins and sisters; if my sister clings to the truth for dear life, so will I. I could do nothing else. It just is not in my nature to lie, or break a promise.

Had I been wearing my sister’s attributes or accessories; I would have been her, and it would have been a lie to say otherwise. At least, to the two of us it is.

Today, I am wearing blue, just as she is wearing purple. The same metallic aspect, and the exact matching colours. I enjoy the metallic electric blue, as much as I do enjoy her purple counterpart.

As I am walking out of my room, I am walking with a hint of a strut; emphasizing the pride in my appearance, as I am walking towards the kitchen. It is not so much of a conscious act, just a slight change in my gait; caused by the changes, brought on by the exposure to Rarity and her elegant fashion. How and why, who’s to say? Not that I care.

I find myself growing more confident in the stride, as I walk; as I am growing more and more used to my old form in the process, slowly finding my bearing as I go.

At first, it had been strange and new. Now I am becoming used to it; but I guess this will be a recurring problem for a while, as I have to get used to swapping form back and forth. I am still starting to grow fond of my human self, all the same. Why shouldn’t I? This is still me, after all.

As I walk, I am starting to pick up the noises from the kitchen; where my sister is performing her duties of the week, preparing the breakfast for the two of us. In a sense, this had been interrupted; by the trip to the museum, of Rarity’s fashion. Now she is picking up, where we had left off. Nothing had changed.

It had been fun, but it had been a distraction; though it changed nothing, for us as sisters. We had shared in the adventure, growing together. The experiences had strengthened us, are strengthening us and will continue to be strengthening us in the future as well.

After about a minute, I am stepping into the kitchen, our kitchen; just in time, to see her finishing the preparations. Of course, next week; it will be my turn, to prepare everything for her. I do not mind, it is fun. Much easier, to prepare two for the both of us; than for the both of us, to prepare one, for ourselves. I get a few more minutes to myself, this week; why she is spoiling me, pampering me up. I will return the favour, next week.

“Good morning!” she exclaims, as I am stepping into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” I echo, in return; as I am beaming a bright smile at her.

Now I take a moment, taking it all in; the scent of the breakfast, she had prepared for me. Just as I am looking around, seeing everything in the fairly small room.

She had offered me a plate of fruits and vegetables; apple, tomato, cucumber, salad. Just as she had poured me a glass of fresh milk, orange juice and even a cup of tea. She had managed everything, within the time-span of me climbing out of my bed, and dressing up.

“Wait..” I ponder, “there is something more!” I realize.

“Now; if you just sit down and enjoy your breakfast, and your treat!” she points out, as she is offering me the chair.

“Thank you, Sis!” I respond, as I am beaming in joy at her.

“Of course, this will be a special treat!” I ponder, knowing just how much she is putting into this experience for me.

Not that I spare any effort, when it is my turn treating her. How could I? I will be mirroring her act, her effort and her joy. It is the way of things, simply. I am the perfect mirror of her, just as she is the perfect mirror of me. Identical, and flawless.

As I am sitting down, onto the chair she is offering me; she is pushing it in, for me to sit comfortably. I lean back, just enough to relax; as I am looking at the food, she had prepared for my breakfast. There is a plate on the other side of the table, containing her breakfast.

Though she had other plans, for the moment before me. She had something more, planned for me.

“Barefoot..” she exclaims, “Excellent!” she chimes, as she is beaming with pent up joy.

“Barefoot!” I respond, echoing the expected confirmation.

I start eating, as she is getting down on all fours under the table; bringing the pedicure set with her, as she goes. Of course, I did this for her last week; now, it is her time to serve me. Just that I know, she loves this just as much as I had.

What I did not see, I already know; she had been preparing everything, for this very moment. She had the tray containing all the pedicure tools ready. Now, she had climbed in, under the table; as I am enjoying the prepared breakfast, chewing down the vegetables, sipping on the beverages offered to me so generously and graciously.

Since I am barefoot, my feet are openly exposed; my toes even more so, to the point.

There is a new scent, as she is opening the vial of clear gel. She had just been uncapping it, for my benefit.

Now I feel the coolness spreading out over the toe, one toe at the time. She is applying the gel to the first toe, of my right foot. Starting from the middle, at the root of the nail, drawing the brush all the way down with delicate care.

From there, she continues, repeating the process; right and left, right and left. One toe at the time. First the toes of my right foot, then the toes of my left foot. It is an act, performed with practiced ease. She has done this for me, for several years. I remember her doing this for me, all the way back to my early teens and beyond.

Of course, I had done the same for her. We take turns, one performing the treat, the other enjoying it.

However; half the joy, is in knowing my sister is enjoying it. She does this for me, knowing just how much I am enjoying the treat she is offering me; while I will be doing this for her the next week, knowing just how much she is enjoying it. The balance, makes for a perfect symmetry. Synergy, in its purest form.

I continue to eat, enjoying her efforts. The cooling sensation is evaporating, as the clear gel is doing its job and cures. She is capping the vial, uncapping the next; only to repeat the process, once more painting my nails with a clear gel. I once more feel the cool touch, as she is performing. The clean, smooth nails, now being primed and ready for the lacquer.

She had chosen the electric metallic blue for my nails; both the toe-nails and the finger-nails, of course.

My sister had used a lacquer, lending a very hard surface; the lacquer is leaving a thin layer of the bright blue hue, as it is protecting my nails against the continuous, daily wear and tear of my nails.

She caps the vial, uncapping the next in turn. Applying multiple layers of semi-transparent lacquer, progressively less opaque with each new layer. Once, twice and thrice. Finally, she is applying the crystal-clear top-coat intended to protect the lacquer and lend that high gloss finish we both love and adore.

As she had capped the vial, she puts it back into the set; before she is crawling out from under the table, pulling the tray out with her.

Knowing her efforts had sculpted the tips of my toes and toe-nails into the perfect beauty I can be admired for. Just as I had done the same for her, maintaining the image of the perfect mirror. I could have done nothing less for her.

This had never been an act of coquetry, but a gesture of love; maintaining the mirror, in perfect condition at all times. It is after all a sign of sisterly love, picked up well before either of us had grasped the concept of vanity or beauty for the sake of bragging. Once we had started, we had simply continued; enjoying the treat, as well as the process of extending it.

I am chewing down the fruit, as she is working; taking a sip, washing it all down. Picking each piece of fruit in my right hand, as I hold the glass in my left hand.

As she is finally emerging from under the table, I am still eating; enjoying the breakfast, she had been preparing for the two of us. Both for me, and herself.

I notice how she is pulling the chair opposite me out; before she is sitting down, pulling the chair in to sit under the table.

She is sitting, eating in silence. She is sharing the meal with me, rather than waiting for me to finish the meal.

Eating together, is so much more enjoyable; than to be eating alone. Particularly, if someone is watching.

The silence endures, as I continue to eat; now in company of my sister, as she had finished my pedicure.

It seems, we always eat in silence, sharing the moment to contemplate what we have on our mind; uninterrupted, but whatever disruptive elements may choose to sneak into the room. We can always discuss; what is at hand or on our minds later, at a more convenient time.

The silence is lingering, just a few minutes after I had finished eating. My plate empty, just as my glasses are.

I know she had seen it; biding her time to pounce me, with the next step of her treat.

It is not, as if I mind; it is just how she does it, and I mirror the act in turn. Not in malice or vengeful spite. We do not act in spite, or consider vengeance.

“There, all done?” she inquires.

“Yes, all done..” I respond.

Her ears, perking up in joy; knowing I am ready, awaiting her next move.

Of course, my ears are perking up in turn. I am eagerly awaiting, what she has in store for me. Even if I know, exactly what she is about to do. I had done it, for her the previous week; just as I will be doing it for her, the next week.

I never had an excuse, valid for escaping my duty before; neither did she have a valid excuse, to escape her duties. As if, one had wanted to escape!

“You know, the equine ears of Rarity is so cute on your head; they lend you a bit of her beauty, as well!” she points out, with a bright smile on her face.

Of course, she is wearing her ears, muzzle and horn too. Could she take them off of her, if she had wanted to? No idea, but why should she be wanting to?

“Oh, but wait; I’m wearing mine too, just as she is!” it dawns upon me, in sudden realization.

“Yes..” she blurts out; “we were eating the salad, with the muzzle on!” she continues, with a cute giggle.

“Oups, we certainly did..” I respond; “and you know what, I never even realized it..” I continue; “it just felt so natural, as if I had been born with a muzzle in the first place!” I conclude.

This could have been embarrassing. Though we both made the same mistake, if one is to consider it a mistake in the first place?

Of course, with my sister; I can always laugh at it, however.

Naturally, we always laugh at these things together; rather than stressing out, or laughing at one-another.

Now I am sliding my plate and glasses to the side; making room for what I know is coming next.

With the plate, out of the way; she is placing the manicure set onto the table, as she is preparing to continue with the next step of the treat she had prepared to offer me.

She is once more sitting down, in her seat; facing me, from the chair opposite me.

I place my hands on the table, palms down; relaxing, as I am awaiting the next step of the treat with breathless anticipation. She does not have to tell me twice, or explain to me; what she is going to do, or what I need to do for her to perform. She knows, that I know; just that I know, she knows it too.

As I am spreading my fingers, slightly; my hands pressing down onto the surface of the table, relaxed comfortably she is starting. Picking the first vial of clear gel, out of the manicure set. It is the primer, she had used for my toe-nails a moment before. Though it will have a slightly different effect; as she applies it to my finger-nails.

I can see the gel glowing weekly in the blue tint associated with Rarity’s magic aura.

She is starting with the nail of the thumb of my right hand. From the center, at the root of the nail; pulling it all the way down the nail. Starting over; right and left, right and left. Carefully coating the entire nail, all the way out to the very edge; leaving the skin untouched, while the gel is coating the entire nail.

From the nail of the thumb, to the nail of the pinkie finger; only to start over, repeating the process with the fingers of my left hand.

As the nail glows, the surface is growing smooth; slowly acquiring the desired shape, such as she is picturing it. Each nail soon perfect; semi-square, inch long and perfectly curved.

Now, she is picking the primer, or base coat. Applying it onto each of my nails; in the same fashion and order as before. I feel the cool touch, as the gel slowly saturates the nail. As the gel cures, the cool sensation slowly evaporates in turn as a natural reaction.

I watch her capping the vial, before she is uncapping the next; each time, she is swapping vials and gel in order to move forwards and complete the process.

Once she had completed the preparation, she is picking the matching colour: electric metallic blue, just the colour I love. She is working with Rarity’s palette, inspired by the work of our Idol. While we may have enjoyed her work and fashion from afar, the trip to the museum had given us a deeper understanding and appreciation of her work.

Since we had picked the aspects, based on Rarity; picking the colours, from her palette feels like the right thing to do. It makes sense, to us. Of course, I am blue; while she is the purple counterpart.

I am watching, as my sister is applying the blue lacquer to each of my nails in turn.

Once she had painted my nails blue; she continues with the semi-transparent lacquer, in the same manner as she had done for my toe-nails. She is after all repeating the process, of how she had painted my toe-nails; with the only exception, of adjusting the appearance for the finger-nails.

She is finishing, with the top-coat; leaving my nails utter gloss, glistering even in sparse indoors light.

With each layer, she was swapping the vial and I had sensed a slight change in the scent; much more distinctly, than I had been expecting. However, this is the first time I am wearing this muzzle, while she is treating me.

I am new, to how the muzzle works.

Had I been expecting it to be nothing more than a silly accessory intended to look good and nothing more? Even if I guess I had realized it gave me the option to speak to my sister, even over long distances well beyond the limits of my human hearing. I did not even have to raise my voice, but can talk to her as if she had been standing mere feet away from me.

A new sense of privacy. A manner of privacy and intimacy I could never have been imagining in the first place. Now, I am experiencing it.

She, Rarity had just given me the advanced sensitivity of hearing, scent and taste.

I guess, I should not be complaining.

As she had finished the manicure, she is putting the last of the vials she had just used back in the tray; before she takes it off of the dinner-table.

“There..” she chimes.

“Thank you, Sis!” I respond in excitement, as I am lifting up my hands to adore her handiwork.

“A cup of tea, would be just right..” she mumbles, to herself; as she is returning to the household work and prepares the tea for the both of us.

“Yes, please!” I respond.

I continue to hold my hands up, before me; with my fingers spread wide, as I am basking in the joy of what she had just afforded me.

While the gel-lacquer had cured a while back, I don’t let it get in the way. Why?

She is placing my cup before me, while I am still adoring her work; pouring up my tea, before she is pouring herself a cup as well.

I can hear the water bubble, as it starts to boil; just as I can hear the tea filling the cup, and the scent of my tea as it is filling the cup. The scent of the tea filling the kitchen and my nostrils; as it cools down, to the mere hot I can drink.

Waiting, for just a minute longer; before I extend my right hand; picking up the cup, lifting it up to my mouth.

Finally, taking the first sip; enjoying the brew, my sister had prepared for me.

Granted, she had prepared it for the both of us; both me, and herself.

Why brew a cup just for me, when she could brew enough for the both of us? That’s beyond me. It does make exactly no sense.

I watch her, as she is picking up her cup, lifting it to her mouth; blowing the lingering steam off of the cup, before she takes a slow, lingering sip.

The seconds, tripping by; under quiet contemplation, as we sip on our tea. It is a moment, to be treasured. I may be having another, by tomorrow; but that is beside the point, entirely. This is today, and I am taking the time, waking up; in the company of my twin, and sister.

Of course, the time lingers, but is eventually coming to an end. One can not sit here, indefinitely.

While I am enjoying the moment, sipping on my tea; she is placing a bottle of yogurt before me, and one on her place. Now she is preparing a few slices of bread, spreading the butter on it; before she continues, to spread a thick layer of peanut butter on the first, second and third.

She is placing the slices on a plate, placing it before me; before she is serving herself the second plate and takes her seat once more.

I pick up my first slice, taking a bite; only to take a sip of the yogurt. Only taking a moment, before I continue. Knowing, she does the same; thus, we are enjoying the rest of our breakfast.

As I finish, I push my chair back, stepping away from the table; before I push the chair, back in and leave the table.

“Thank you, for the breakfast!” I offer, before I am walking out of the kitchen.

The doors open and close for me, without nary a thought. I walk back, to my bed-room; for a moment to myself, enjoying a moment alone. Well, I guess I had intended to study.

I had left the Touch pad, on my bed; the class waiting, for me to continue where I had left off the other night.

“Could I slip on the stockings, by myself; or, will I need to ask my sister for her assistance?” I ponder.

“I like being able to make it on my own; but I still love, for her to help me out if I need her to..” I ponder, giggling at the thought.

With barely a thought, I am filling the space of my room; with the beautiful sounds, of Octavia’s music. It is from the collection, I had bought on the trip; the very same music, I had been listening to the other day as I was studying. I enjoy her music, it is highly conductive to my studies.

“I love Octavia’s music, I always have..” I ponder; “I just had not quite realized, just how good it is before; or just how conductive to studies it could be for me!” I continue.

Of course, my sister hears the music too; but she enjoys the music, just as much as I do. We are twins, after all. Cultivating the Twin card had been fun; it trapped up, in the patterns. Not that it is a problem or hindrance; we are just as separate and unique, as everyone else.

Is it one or two of us? Maybe it is irrelevant.

What is relevant, to me right now; is my studies, and the subject I intend to learn. Though I had enjoyed to wear these stockings the other day; so I intend to wear them again, today. Now, as I study. Well, why not? I enjoy wearing them, and it is not distracting me or getting in the way of what I am doing.

I pick up the right stocking, in my hands; stepping into it, pushing my foot all the way down. Only to repeat the process, with the left stocking.

As I am standing, on my own two hooves; I pick up the right stocking, slipping the right hand in, pushing it all the way in. Just repeating the process, with my left hand.

“There..” I ponder, as I once more stand on my own four hooves.

As I am looking down, I notice my hooves; all the same metallic electric blue, as my sister had just painted my nails. Both finger-nails, and toe-nails alike. Thus, my hooves are just as adorable and beautiful.

With the set of stockings on, I had just found myself back in the equine form. Now, as a Unicorn; since I had put the horn, onto my forehead.

I focus, lighting up my horn; feeling the heat of the magic as the small orb flickers into existence at the tip of my horn. As I continue to focus, on my magic, the blue orb grows in size and luminosity; as I gather more and more magic, focusing on the task at hoof.

Just as Rarity, herself; I could not permit distractions, like the beauty of my form getting in the way. I know I am beautiful, but I never permitted it to get in the way before; why start now?

With the grace, lent to me by Rarity; I climb up, onto the bed. Once I have made myself comfortable, I activate the touch pad; summoning the teacher and the class I had left the other night, as I am once more focusing on the subject of my class.

After Class (A Trot in the Park): 4

I had enjoyed my studies, the classes had been fun.

The Touch pad had been a success, my sister had eagerly helped me setting it up for me. Now I can listen to the voice of my teacher, explaining everything to me; while I read the text, looking at the illustrations of the subject at hoof.

Yes, yes; the subject at hand, you would say. Just that I wear these stockings, lending me a full set of hooves; while I am studying: thus it is At hoof, to me.

I had spent hours; studying, on this Touch-pad now. I had just left it, for a moment; in order to enjoy my lunch, before I had returned to my studies.

First I just pause the class, as I untangle myself from my studies; before I jump down from my bed, landing on my own four hooves. It is, just that natural to me now.

”Clip, clop; clip, clop!” is heard, as I hit the floor.

”Oh, oh..” I giggle, as it hits me.

Of course, my hooves had been hard the other day; but now they are considerably harder than the other day, after my sister have offered me the manicure and pedicure. Though I guess, I should be referring to that as: Hooficure, now. Considering how I am in the more of less fully Equine form, as a Pony.

Had I looked down, at my hooves; I would have noticed, that they are the same metallic electric blue as my nails had been painted. Just that it never occurred to me, to look down to confirm the colour of my hooves.

Why?

I squee, as I’m galloping on the spot in excitement.

As I calm down, the door is opening up and I trot out of the room in a much calmer manner.

”Clippety, clop; clippety, clop; clippety, clop..” is heard, as I continue through the living room.

I feel the smooth floor, under my hooves; it just feels normal, and comforting. The floor is clean, not even a speck of dust to be seen.

Of course, I had reverted back to my equine form as I slipped the stockings on; finding everything perfectly normal, just as the other day.

Just so odd, that I am still finding it unsettling and discomfortable to revert back to my old self. As if I had been reverting back, to something lesser than myself. Though it is slowly growing more and more familiar to me, with each and every time I am experiencing it.

”Class dismissed!” my sister exclaims, as she spots me trotting out of my room.

”Yes, Sis!” I respond; ”Thank you!” I continue.

”However; if you intend to go out, you will have to dress up in a full set of boots!” she informs me.

”Yes, Sis..” I respond; ”Thank you, for reminding me..” I continue.

As I continue, out into the cloaking-room; I notice, that she had indeed already prepared the boots for me. I have a full set of matching black shoes standing in the shoe rack.

”I guess, these are what she had referred to..” I ponder, as I am approaching the shoe rack.

There is a set of crystal-clear shoes, on the upper floor of my shoe rack as well. These would be intended for indoors use, I assume.

She has her own, private shoe rack; in which she is storing her shoes, when she is not using them. Both the human shoes, and the equine once. Both the black and the crystal-clear once; still resting comfortably, waiting for her to put them on. Since she had been bare-foot, as I saw her; all her human shoes, remaining in waiting.

”I love walking bare-foot too!” I ponder, remembering myself moving around in our home.

We had always been running around barefoot, everywhere; back in the days, where we were little girls. That is in the past; but I still remember this, with great fondness nonetheless.

I pick up my new equine shoes, one at the time; right and left, hind and fore. Putting them onto the floor, as I step onto them; or, into them. Soon noticing, how these shoes cling to the sole of my hooves; comfortably and securely staying on, as if nailed on.

Yes, I know; the expression feels uncomfortable to me, if I try to picture shoes nailed onto my hooves. Maybe I am still thinking of it; as if human shoes had been held into place, with nails hammered into the soles of my feet? That certainly would have been painful. Not to mention, messy; with me leaving trails of blood, wherever I go.

I am still a human, even in my fully equine form; all my old memories and experiences, based on the existences as the human I had been born as.

I can’t just shake these memories, or experiences off of me; like a dog is shaking the water off of her fur, as soon as she is stepping out of the water of the pond she just stepped out of.

These memories are based upon the events, that shaped me; made me into the person I am today. Losing just one of these, would have changed me into someone else. I don’t even want to think of this, for a moment.

Strangely enough, the shoes barely register; as I am wearing them, while I am walking to the door. These shoes are not held in place by either nails or glue; but fuses temporarily, in magical fashion.

”I could use some fresh air!” I ponder, as I move over towards the door.

Just before I reach the door, it slides up before me; as it had unlocked, for me. All I need, is to apply my magic; the door is unlocked, opening for me. Simple, easy.

”Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I trot out of our home.

The door quietly closes behind me, as I had stepped out; locking securely, once it is firmly closed. I continue, without a thought; as I trot away from the door and out onto the street.

”Clip-itty, clop clop; clip-itty, clop clop..” is heard, as I gallop down the road and out towards the nearest park.

The street is empty and devoid of people. Neither pedestrians, nor cars or bikes are to be seen. I had chosen a good time, to get out on a comforting gallop. I had known it, before I had left my home, I had chosen the time, knowing I am free to move at my leisure.

The high stonewalls are lining the gardens, with trees and bushes peeking out over the top of the fences.

As a Pony, I am a full four feet tall; these branches are well above my head. I just appreciate the shade lent to me by the green leaves overhead as I continue down the road.

I feel the scents, of the trees, bushes and herbs surrounding me, as I continue to gallop on my way to the park; enjoying myself, and the new-found freedom I had just grasped for myself. with the means, gifted to me by Rarity herself; I had taken upon myself this form, sizing its wonders such as I see them for myself.

Though there is more, to the surroundings; than merely the sights, the sounds and the scents: I have yet to explore and master. As the Pony, I sense something more; something previously unknown to me, in the form of the ambient and all-encompassing magic in the ether in which I found myself swimming now.

I need but reach out, and I can grasp it. Though it is more, than I am ready to experience; since I am inexperienced of this layer of the reality. The ether of magic had always been here; but now I had been opened up, to see the world with the eyes of a Unicorn.

I am not Rarity, bound by her sensibilities. I am still the very same person I had always been; only with the equine form, permitting me to experience and explore what is before me and surrounding me.

I knew, I had to stretch my legs; to experience the freedom and the elation of movement, just as I knew I do need the exercise too. I had been trapped within the walls of the Museum, and I had trapped myself with the bonds of my studies; now I had broken free, to grant myself the benefit of a moment in the fresh air of the outside.

I had earned this, by the diligence of my persistence; but my body is still demanding this of me, even in this equine form as the Pony I am now.

Not that I know, of how this changed me; how it is affecting me in body, spirit and needs. I just felt the urge and the calling; for me to step out, to enjoy the freedom of the breeze of air through my mane.

I am not a rebellion, just as I am not rebelling; I am just following the call of my heart, following the urges of the body I am in. Stretching my legs, enjoying the experience of a brisk gallop along the street.

This is something I am going to do again, I will be repeating it in the future. Why shouldn’t I?

While the landscape is flying by, I don’t feel as if I am faster than I had been before; my senses, as well as my perspective had changed right along with my body. As the equine I had turned into, this speed is just as familiar and commonplace; as if I had been running down the street the days before, in my human form.

”This, feels so incredibly good..” I realize; ”this is what I had been missing; all the time I was studying at home and indoors, even if it had been quite fun!” I ponder.

Gate, by gate; rushing past me, as I continue to gallop down the street. The gates, to the gardens I am passing on my way to the park.

Each gate, hiding the path to the entrance of a home; where someone is living, possibly even someone I knew and still know. Some of these; are friends, or classmates of me and my sister.

Who they were, and who they are; I do not know, but I will still recognize all my friends even if they do not recognize me in this form. My memories intact, I am recognizing everything I had seen before; but since my form is radically changed, into this equine form. How could I expect anyone to realize or recognize me for who I still am; even if I imagine, they should still recognize my voice. My voice, did not change for all I know; I am still the same little girl, inside.

The surroundings are still the same, but they look different now; with the wider field of vision and the magical aura as the final layer on top of my view. Each sense, blending in; to make up the image I now see, before me as I continue to gallop down the street.

While the streets are not directly desolate; with all the signs of the residents still here, there are no people here right now.

Of course, the inevitable does happen, and I do reach the park; the originally intended destination, I had been intending to see. I slow down, to a slow trot as I am approaching.

There is a large, impressive stone gate; looking, as if carved out of the bed-rock under the ground. The gate, in a sense just a part of the larger stone fence; even if the fence itself, had been extended with a metal structure.

The gate, permitting me entrance with perfect indifference. It is after all just a large stone structure. No enchantment, or any device intended to guard this gate.

What is behind, is a beautiful park.

In reverence, I enter the park; maintaining a measured gait, a slow trot. Nothing else, would even be conceivable to me. Maybe Rarity had affected me, changed me deeper than I could possibly have understood; but the perceived beauty of the park, moves me to the very core.

”Clip, clop, clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as my hooves are hitting the hard stones the path had been laid with.

I see the stone-plates of the path; taking me into the park, as I continue to trot forwards. The hard stone, feels warm under my hooves; teasing, and pleasing my senses.

The green grasses, lining the path; upon which I trot, as I continue. In the light of the sun, I see the green shades glitter and glimmer as I continue ever forth. Is this just the mundane grass of your lawn?

”Oh, oh, oh..” I mouth.

For now, I am staying on the path; trotting on the stones, enjoying the noises my hooves are making.

”Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I continue along the path.

While I may have been here, before; but this is the first time, I am here in the body of a Pony. As an equine, everything is different; very different, considering how magic is put into play. Of course, I am much shorter; as a quadruped Pony, than I had been just a few days back in my old human form.

Maybe, just maybe; my tastes and sensibilities had changed too, twisting the perspective further.

I just can not put a finger, or hoof onto exactly how, or just how extensive the changes are or how much it affects my perspective either.

Even with horse-shoes, my hooves are harder than the shoes I wore as the girl I had been. While I guess I could have been wearing high heels, just for the comparison; but that had never been my thing, even if I may be just a bit young for this in the first place. Maybe I should try it, just a few times; just for the perspective, but I have heard the way they make noises.

I should not claim, I do not like shoes, or buying them; enjoying the way it feels, to put on a new pair of shoes. I should be shopping with my sister; buying a few more in a week, or two. Just for the joy of going out together, shopping is fun; I love, for us to go out and buy something together.

However, I had been buying so much; as we were visiting the Museum of Rarity’s fashion, my budget is taxing. We can’t just go out and buy the shoes, just because it is fun.

Besides, I have studies to look forward to; I had discovered a new-found joy in my studies. I picture her enjoying her studies, too. Why shouldn’t she? Why, indeed.

She is my sister, she is me; if I enjoy my studies, so does she. She is me, another me; but in another body, but still largely identical to me. Since I had always had her with me, I am so used to her being there; it would just be unthinkable, not to have her by my side. Even more so, than it would have been for you; to hear her there, by your side.

Even when she is not in the room, she is there. She is with me, in spirit if nothing else.

However, now she is even closer to me, I can speak to her any time I so choose.; knowing she will respond, just as I would respond if she asked me something. I guess this is just in my nature, our nature; being the twin, identical to her, always having her there beside me.

While she does not see the park, with my eyes now; I know, she will understand and recognize what I tell her.

”Peonies!” I exclaim, as I come across the three foot tall bushes.

They’re currently in full bloom; sporting these lovely, large, purple blossoms all over.

I had made an involuntary retake, as I gasp. The beauty, in my eyes; breathtaking, as it were. Maybe I had chosen this path; unconsciously knowing these Peony bushes would be here.

Only now, as Pony; these bushes feel much larger, than I would have been remembering them. These bushes are towering now; while I would have been looking down at them, in my previous form as human.

I’m musing, at their beauty; just as I find the naming so funny, in this very moment. It is almost, as if they had been named in the form of a pun; pointing a hoof at me, with a delicate chime on their voices.

”Did you say Peony?” I hear my sister chime in, just a moment later.

”Yes, Sis!” I respond.

”I will just have to see the Peonies!” she exclaims, in excitement.

”Yes..” I chime; ”You certainly have to, they’re so beautiful!” I continue.

”Of course..” I ponder; ”I knew she loves these Peonies, just as I do!” I continue.

I had stopped, before the Peony closest to the path; enjoying its scent, close up. Though I enjoy its beauty as well. Just had never been expecting, just how the blossoms shimmer in the light. They never had before; but then, I had never been a Unicorn before either.

While I may not have been Unicorn before; but it does not scare or bother me, but is rather quite fun. Who would have thought?

Now I am standing before that one, brave Peony; sniffing, for its lovely scent. Though I stay in place, for just a few minutes. Now, I take a step back, onto the path of hard stones; before I continue to trot down the path, forwards. Ever forwards; never stopping or slowing down.

As I continue down the path, I had chosen; I soon find myself approaching a particularly beautiful stand of proud beeches, standing to the right and left of the path. Though the leaves, are no longer that spectacular spring green they were; earlier, in the middle of spring.

Yet, these trees are lending a special serenity, to the path; as I continue to trot forwards, even if I stop to take in the scenery. I could not just continue; as if I had not been moved, or touched by its beauty.

The beauty is apparently obvious in the scenery, but the serenity is expanded by the ambient glow of the ether I am trotting through; as I am continuing along the path, between the beeches standing in the path I had chosen. Did I choose the path; because it takes me up to the Peonies and through the stand of Beeches, but it is certainly a path I enjoy to trot.

Had I not been a Pony, a Unicorn; I would have missed out, on what is now surrounding me on all sides. Is there a Unicorn, among the people planning this park; or is it just the blind luck, I had found the park touching me?

I do not know, I can not know; but I guess it is something I could investigate. If for nothing more, than to satisfy my curiosity. Being in the prime of youth, should lend me the drive of curiosity; unless I had been unfortunate enough, to have my curiosity starved, violated or just forcibly crushed outright.

The beauty of the park, lifts my spirit on its large and beautiful wings; letting me soar amongst the stars, for the duration of my stay.

”Clip, clop; clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as my hooves hit the path, as I continue to trot the path I had chosen.

It is not so much the trees, that slow me down; as the awe of the surroundings, and the inherent beauty that slows me down. I do not wish to rush through, thus shortening the experience; when I can trot slower, and prolong the experience in a manner that enhances this moment.

The luscious, frisky green grass; standing tall under the light filtered through the leaves of the beeches. It feels so soft, under my hooves; when I do step off of the path just enough to get under a large spot of open sunlight.

Is this particular joy and pleasure derived from being a pony? Yet, I am fairly sure; I enjoyed running over the soft grass, as a little girl too. It feels, almost as if this grass had been designed; with the purpose of being enjoyable, to walk or trot over. Just as its green colour, is pleasing to the eye.

Now I had stepped off of the path, in order to enjoy these soft grasses under my hooves. Finding myself enjoying the experience, just as much as I had been led to believe; going on my old experience of being a little girl, as my equine instincts eagerly are claiming. While I guess I could have refused the urges, but now I am happy I had not.

The feel of the green grass under my hooves, is not quite what I had been expecting; based off of my experience, of walking over and running through the grass of my early childhood. Though it is just as pleasant now; even with the shoes I wear.

My shoes are protecting my hooves against the wear and tear, or more precisely, the stockings I wear under the shoes. What would happen, if a stocking was worn down, I do not even wish to consider.

I love the equine form I am currently in. Not just for the aesthetic reasons; but also, for what the Unicorn it turned me into offers me now. It is not just the stockings themselves, that turned me into a Unicorn however; but the horn I had placed onto my head, aside from probably specific character traits I have. Traits I share with my sister. She is after all an identical twin.

While I may not be quite as tall as I had been, standing a full five foot as human; but I certainly am just as large, in my Pony form. Though I guess, the size is not what is turning me on; but I am excited about everything I am, as a Unicorn now. I see things, in an entirely new lite; my senses expanded, enhanced beyond my wildest dreams.

Having the magic is one thing, but I am not a Wizard by any means; I merely use my magic, to perform the mundane tasks of my everyday life. Yet, it is still enhancing my experience in this park.

I am enjoying myself, as I am enjoying the experience; trotting through the park, in a measured gate.

Just, the bliss of the moment; holding me in place; as I continue, exploring this one moment.

Why not? I do enjoy it.

Shouldn’t I?

Why?

This, is a part of who I am. Who I had always been, even before I knew.

Now, I am a Unicorn. Trotting through this proud stand of beautiful Beeches.

I love it.

Though everything has to come to an end. I find myself, stepping out of the stand; as I continue to follow the path.

The path, I had chosen.

My path.

Clip, clop; clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I continue along the path.

The grass is green, the sun is bright.

I enjoy the moment, as I am stepping into the light behind the stand of Beeches.

There is a fork, in the road; I take the right path, continung along on my trot through the park.

Enjoying myself, enjoying the beauty of the park; elated, awestruck.

Softly, gently I set down each hoof, taking another step and another.

Soon, the path is lined by roses. Red roses.

Beyond the roses, I see the Cherry. Cherry trees, in bloom, the blossoms just bursting out in beauty.

I had apparently chosen the day, symbolizing the beauty of Youth. The first of the three days these Cherries will be in bloom.

I am looking up, seeing the pink cherry-blossoms crowding the trees before me. Classical Japanese five-petal cherry blossoms.

Now, I am trotting along, on the path; making intermittent stops: stopping to stare, ogle and gawk at the beauty of the blossoms of Youth.

Only the shimmer in the ether, coalescing around the petals of these blossoms in harmonious synergy.

”Wait," I ponder; ”I should take her here tomorrow, with a basket of goodies and a blanket..” I realize; ”then we can enjoy this together!” I conclude, as I enjoy the moment for all it is worth.

Of course, we could take the basket and blanket over here tomorrow; carrying the pick-nick, enjoying a day here together. I should, but that is tomorrow; I am here now, today. I am enjoying the moment.

Just trotting along the path, looking at the blossoms of the Cherry Trees.

Step, by step; I continue to trot slowly along the path, as I am enjoying the scent of the roses lining the path.

The scent of the roses, lining the path I trot is lovely. Though I am passing the spot, eventually; even trotting as slow as I am, just to make the moment last.

Slowly trotting on. The moment passes; as I clear the perimeter of the trees, as I pass the last of the roses.

”Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I continue trotting down the path I had chosen.

I turn my head, looking at the cherry-blooms with dreamy eyes; affording the apparent beauty one last look. I turn my attention back, to the path before me; continuing further along the taken path.

Once I had pulled my eyes away, from the beauty of the cherries in bloom; I had turned my gaze back towards the path before me, quicken my pace to a comfortable trot.

After a few minutes of maintaining a measured trot, I notice the Daisies spreading out in the field of grass on both sides. These are not the Penny sized Daisies you commonly see in the lawn of a home; but the large variety, in beautiful colours: both the pristine white and the deep cerise once. Apparently, these Daisies are not just randomly scattered across the field; but grow in a distinct pattern.

As I am looking, there is a pattern, leading up towards the center of what is before me. Once I look up, the ancient linden tree is huge and timeless. Its leaves, lusciously green; as the season demands.

All of a sudden, this tree gives me the image; I am looking at the fabled world tree, as if it had been standing in this very spot since the beginning of time. Maybe it had, even if I can’t quite wrap my head around the mere thought. I had been here, in this very park before.

Trotting along the path, I am slowly getting closer and closer to the tree. Just as I start to get close, I notice an offshoot branch of the path taking me towards the Linden tree, so I choose to take it. Slowly trotting towards this one tree.

This path, is different. It’s laid with red marble. For some reason; it is also lined with strawberry plants, bearing fruits.

”Strawb’s” I ponder, as I am picking a few to sample; ”Yummy and oh so sweet..” I exclaim, as I slip the first into my mouth, slowly enjoying it.

While the strawberry plants are large and luscious, they are not remarkably different; from the plants one may have at home, just as the positioning is just as unremarkable.

These plants grow one by one, a full foot apart. Each plant growing to about one foot in height. There is no guard, and none care; beyond the general health of the plants, I am currently passing. I imagine, these berries are just here; for my personal enjoyment, and for the enjoyment of everyone else passing by.

”These plants, don’t quite look of this Earth!” I ponder, as I follow the path towards the tree.

The strawberry plants are still in the range of size and general appearance; but maybe this is what the Equestrian strawberries would look like? I do not know. Maybe this does not matter. It is just, what one would start considering; in the situation, I had just trotted into.

Picking the strawberries is easy, to me; just as I am sure, it would have been in my human form. Hands or magic, is all the same. I pick them, one by one as I go; never stopping, or directly looking at any of them. I just pick them, for the joy of the taste; these strawberries are very tasty, after all.

I do not have to look down, to see the strawberries; more and I have to look down, to see where I place my hooves. It is natural to me. I know where I have my hooves, and the ground upon which I step; just as I feel the strawberries, I am picking.

This is a special joy, one I had not particularly predicted; but one I am looking forward to, enjoying with my sister again and again.

I reach the tree.

Stopping, taking a pause; just as I reach the tree, only to confirm what I am seeing before me.

There is a strange shimmering, just before the outer layer of the tree’s skin or bark.

What I see, what I am looking at; looks as if it had been the surface of the water, in a regular pond. Only now, it is not on the ground, barely even touching the ground; but looks akin to a gate, or possibly an event horizon.

It is a bit dizzying, confusing to behold.

Yet, I continue to move forwards. Stepping forth, towards the open gate before me.

Step, by step, by step, by step; I continue.

”Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I continue.

The air is calm, growing still as I am approaching the tree; as if someone or something was slowing the wind, or just pulling the movement in towards the event horizon.

Up until this point, I had but seen the effect; but as I move closer, I feel the pull through the ambient ether through which I move on my way up towards the tree. As I continue, the pull grows stronger and stronger still.

I stop, a foot from the horizon.

Now, I am lifting my right fore-hoof; tentatively probing its surface in an attempt to discern what I have before me.

At first, there is nothing. As I push forth, bravely; I soon feel the surface of the water, rippling under the sole of my hoof.

On instinct, I almost pull the hoof back; just as I am feeling the first tingling sensation, from touching the surface of this event horizon. It is dizzying. Unfamiliar, unfathomable, at first.

Though I feel something more, as I probe what I have before me.

Of course, it is there. It just is not, what I had been expecting; I could never have been prepared, as my experience can not be expected to cover, what I have before me.

The surface is smooth, yet ripping like water; but its surface is not made up by any matter, I could have been learning about at school.

One hundred elements, known to Man; this, is none of these.

Six elements, known by Equines; of course, this is none of these. Either.

Out of the four, five or six elements; known to Alchemy, Sorcery or any of the other darker arts, what is the difference? None of these, could match up; to what I have before me, what I am probing with my hoof.

What I have before me, is under space, between the substance; the pure ether or binding between the quanta of energy itself. I just have no name, for what I have before me.

How did this even appear before me?

I have no idea, and no clue is provided.

Pinkie Pie, could have explained it; giggling and laughing through the lecture, as if she had explained how to bake Muffins.

Twilight Sparkle could have explained it; with the precision of an experienced Scientist. Just glancing over her shoulder.

General Jack O’Neill would happily have explained the event horizon before me; with the excitement of the experience of an experienced explorer, tempered by the caution of a hardened military.

Whom of these should I have been asking? Neither of them are here. None is here, explaining to me; what I have before me, as I am probing the surface with my hoof.

I do know nothing of the mirror; the second persona with the same name, initially identical like my sister. Of course; they are not identical, they never were.

Line them up, side by side; on this side, or the other. What is the difference? If they are Human, or Pony; they are still two separate individuals, shaped by their experiences of the lives they had already spent. Living in the world, in which they were born; in the Human, or Pony form.

With nothing to guide me, and none to explain; I am left to my own devices, as meager as they may be. Or, if that is just an illusion, a mirage trying to hide, or distort the reality before me.

Probing the surface, like I would have been sensed the surface of the pond; feeling the smooth surface of the cool water. I feel, what is before me; what I see or sense, as if it had been there.

Is it there, or is it not; the trickery of Quantum flux, teasing and tantalizing.

Quantum, the back of Loki himself; the trickster, the god of misdirection.

Careful, and with the tentative stance; I continue, pushing forward slowly.

As I continue, interrupted; my hoof is pulled back, lending me the sensation of the surface pulling back in response.

Is this an illusion, or is it my tentative uncertainty; a reflection of me, as I had not really tried to pull back.

I see a reflection of myself. if it is there, if it is in the horizon as a reflection of me or the ether playing tricks on my mind; who is to say?

Yet, I push forwards; just another inch.

I feel another ripple. I am breaking through.

Had I just broken through the veil of the reality? Where am I to enter? What will become of me?

Another inch, and another, and another.

Another moment, and I step in; slipping into the horizon. I experience a vertigo as I am pulled in.

Slipping through the horizon, traversing time and space.

I enter, through the portal, ending up; planted into the other side, another reality.

Emotions rushing through me, as the reality was dissolved. I lost all sense of direction, location, self.

With the momentum preserved, I step out on the other side.

Where am I?

When am I?

I do not know, but I am alone. Just as I had been.

The tree behind me. I now sense, without turning around to see.

I had found myself standing, on a small square laid with red stone, not quite marble; yet it is red, and feels almost like the marble on the other side of the horizon. The other side of reality.

There are three paths before me. Right, left and forwards.

Of course, there is grass surrounding the square upon which I stand, on the other side of the border.

At the Track (On the other Side): 5

I had just set hoof on the red stone; as I am scanning the surroundings, I had found myself in.

The surroundings come out as normal, even if everything is out of the blue. Nothing; other than the tree behind me, had any place in the continuity.

As unexpected, and out of place as the surroundings may feel; the place is not alien, or make me feel uncomfortable or uninvited. It is just, as if I had stepped into a home of a friend. My friends commonly do invite me over, to their homes. They are my friends after all.

Likewise; I could invite any of my friends over, to my home.

Naturally; my friends, has grown accustomed to my sister being identical to me. How could they truly be my friends, if they could not accept this part of me in the first place?

While I guess I could visit a friend alone, just as my sister could visit a friend; but if a friend comes over, she will just have to accept and expect the two of us being there in the room at the same time. If it is uncomfortable, or awkward; it is pointless, and I have problems considering her a true friend in the first place. What is the point in pretending, or trying to hide the fact; that we are identical twins?

“Where am I?” is a question. The answer would be; that I am on the other side of the horizon. But, where this is, I have no idea. I simply assume, I can get back the same way I had come here.

I continue to trot, forwards. Putting a hoof, before the other.

“Glip, glop; glip, glop..” is heard, as I continue trotting over these red stones.

It is weird. Even the noises are strange, different. Yet; at least, these are the noises of hooves. Equine hooves.

I continue, trotting towards the right path.

This is the right path, but I could as easily have gone to the left. I could have chosen any of the three paths available, to me.

If the right path is the right path for me, at this point; who is to say, I do not know. Maybe, just maybe; I will find out, as I reach the path. Or as I reach the end of where this path will be taking me.

I had taken the path, just as I had taken the path leading me to the tree, entering the gate to this place; but why, maybe I am just curious. Yet, I had still taken the path, entering this place. I had not been forced, or coerced. I had simply trotted to where I am now.

After a moment, I find myself on the path. These stones are the same red, as on the square I had been before.

There are no signs, but the grass is lusciously green; growing tall and frisky, like I have never seen before. I am almost tempted; to try a bite, just to see if it is as good as it looks. Just that I had been enjoying the strawberries, before I entered this realm.

Now, I am still trotting, along the path; enjoying the moment, as I am seeing the path slowly flowing past me.

“Glip, glop; glip, glop; glip, glop..” is heard, as my hooves hit the hard stones of the path.

I continue, maintaining the slow trot as I move forwards; trotting along the path I had chosen, enjoying the moment. Just a slow, measured trot. Nothing much, and certainly not fast or fancy.

I am just the lone pony, trotting along the path before me.

What else would I be?

What else, indeed?

With grass on the right, and grass on the left; I can not quite hold back, as I am picking up speed.

Step, by step, by step, by step; I place one hoof before the other as I continue to trot. Just as I move faster; from the measured gate, into a trot, then a fast trot. Only to slip into a gallop, before I could even realize it.

“Glip-ity, glop glop; glip-ity, glop glop; glip-ity, glop glop..” is heard, as I canter along the path.

“I guess I could be fast, if I want to?” I ponder, as I continue to canter down the path I had chosen.

While it had been looking straight and even, as I chose it; now it is starting to turn this way and that, even if the stones remain smooth under my hooves. I neither trip or slip.

As my heart races, I feel the elation; as the excitement grows, capturing my spirit.

“Why did I never go here before?” I ponder, quietly under my breath.

Normally, my sister should have been hearing me; yet, there is no response on her part. Maybe she is out of range? I don’t let this get to me, but I had never even realized I had been pronouncing the words in the first place.

How long is this path? I have no idea. I could always turn around, trotting back if I wanted to. Couldn’t I?

Had the path ended here, I would have been disappointed. Abruptly, or not; I still feel the urge, just to gallop on and on further and further. I have far too much pent up energy, stored away; from the time I had been studying, safely lying on the top of my bed.

It may have been fun, but now I have to get out.

Just the green grasses, as company; lining the path, on both sides of the path, for as long as my eyes could see.

If these paths had been identical, I have no way of knowing. I chose this path.

Just feeling the air in my mane, like a frisky breeze; I find it invigorating, exciting. I can but enjoy it.

I had enjoyed it, I am enjoying it now, just as I know I will continue to enjoy it. At least, for as long as I remain on the path. The path, of my choice. It is a choice, I had made. Just for myself. with none around, none to judge me, or look down upon me over the choice.

It is a safe choice. Isn’t it?

I chose this, for myself.

It is the Pony’s choice, if I had known it or not; I am that Pony, but I had known that all along. Of course, how could I not have known it?

While I am still carrying the memories, of the girl I had been born to be; I am a Pony now, the past is irrelevant. At least, in this world; it is.

I can return, to where I came from. I need not worry.

This, is not a place of worries and fears; it is not man-made, and carries none of these flaws.

I enjoy myself, just as I am enjoying the surroundings. I continue, galloping, ever forwards.

Forwards, ever forwards.

The stones are still red, seamlessly placed one after the other. Only now, there slips in a few strands of grass. I had not noticed. I had failed to notice.

Little by little; the grasses are taking over the path, upon which I continue to gallop.

Step by step, I continue; step by step, the grasses are taking over the path. Like an invading force, I had been inviting; the grass grows even more frisky and adventurous. I feel the luscious green grass under my hooves.

It isn’t as if my hooves are not sensitive, just as sensitive as my skin. Just the hard front and sides that is protecting me.

Before I had even realized it, the path is green; covered, taken over by the grass.

All that remains, of the stones the path had been laid with; is the three lines of red stones, lining the path.

How could I resent the grass, taking over; or the stones, still lining my path? The stones are lining the path, guiding me forwards; towards the destination, I had already chosen. The destination, I had chosen for myself; as I picked the path leading to the left of the tree.

The path, seemingly stretches on into infinity, no end in sight.

However, it is escaping me; as I enjoy the scenery, and the elation imparted to me by the moment.

What I had not realized, what I had failed to notice; is just how sensitive my hooves are, as I continue galloping over the grass covering my chosen path. I guess my feet had always been sensitive, and now my hooves are too; though the grass under my hooves are particularly enjoyable and tantalizing in a weird and unfamiliar manner.

Of course, there is something else, I had failed to realize or notice; I am no longer dressed up in the clothes I wore, as I left my home. I am perfectly nude, but as the Pony I am now; this is perfectly natural, expected even. I guess, I could still put on some clothes or garments designed for a Pony.

Would this revert, as I turn back, or return to the point; at the tree, the entrance to this realm?

I look, exactly as I had; as I left my home, trotting out onto the road by our home.

My skin is white, like the skin of the Marsh Mallow herself; just as the suit I wore, while I was studying, safely in my home. My hooves, still the same, metallic electric blue, coated with the rubbery surface imparted me the hooficure my sister had offered me before. Had it changed, I guess I would have been shocked. Shouldn’t I?

My ears, perking up straight, focusing forward, in obvious curiosity. I am after all the Pony.

My eyes, large and bright blue; facing slightly further out than I should have been expecting; just mirroring my Pony body and personality.

I am wearing no muzzle, it is just how my face looks and feels; as a Pony. I am equine, of the Equestrian variety. Just as Rarity, herself. The other Rarity, that is.

Is the new nudity, in the equine form by any means part of my joy?

There had always been a trace of the sensation, of the clothes I had been wearing; as I wore the clothes, as well as the muzzle and ears. These sensations had been evaporating, as I had crossed the path I had chosen.

As a Pony, I had found myself nude. Not that it bothers me; I had barely noticed or even realized it, in the first place.

Why?

Should I have cared?

If so, why?

As the Pony, I had grown to enjoy myself. Just as the Ponies, in Ponyville; the place where Rarity lives, all the Ponies commonly enjoy being nude.

Why shouldn’t they? To Ponies, it is after all still natural.

Apparently, I am one of them. Now.

Since I had enjoyed it, in the first place; I am still enjoying myself, hooves down.

I continue on the path, I had chosen. Just galloping on the path, as if I had no care in the world.

Of course; I don’t have a care, in the world.

Why?

Why should I? What’s the point?

I do enjoy myself, and that is the end of it.

Though there is no end, of the field of grasses.

The stones lining the path remain, guiding me on my journey.

For such a simple, mundane event; I had still found it very exciting and exhilarating.

Is this just me? Or.. Is this something more, than meets the eye?

How long, had I even been here on the path? I have no idea. I had clearly lost track of time.

Of course, but how long does my sister think I had been here?

I do not know.

”Glip-ity, glop glop; glip-ity, glop glop..” is heard, as I continue to canter along the path.

After an undetermined and undeterminable time, I veer off to the right. Slowly, slowing down from the canter.

As I continue to slow down, I soon find myself flowing into a brisk trot; slowing down, further and further.

”Glip, glop; glip, glop; glip, glop..” is heard, as I am trotting over the grasses underhoof.

As I slow down, I stop, in the middle of the path; looking right and left, as I consider my next move.

I had been galloping for quite a while, now; but I don’t really get anywhere further, but that was never an issue. Not really. It isn’t, as if I had set out on the path, to go anywhere. All I had wanted, was to feel the wind in my mane; as I experience the elation of freedom, galloping on my own path.

Now, I take a few more steps; before I take the first step to the right, and another one and another one.

Here, I bend my head down, sniffing the lusciously green, frisky grass I am stepping over.

The tip of my muzzle soon reaches the grass, and I part my lips; just enough, to take the first tentative bite. Now I chew on the grass, finding it just as good as one could have been expecting.

Well; I am a Horse, after all. What had I been expecting. Okay, a Pony; but Ponies are Horses too, are they not? Ponies do eat grass too.

”Yummy..” I ponder; as I stand still, chewing on the grass.

I take another step, and another; taking a new bite, chewing, and chewing.

The grass makes me salivate in excitement.

Continuously, I take one step after the other; taking a bite and chew, then look up and scan the surroundings. I am after all Equine. It is in my nature, and I am curious.

Curiosity, above all else is what brought me here; I am not an athlete, and I never was. I know, I never will be. Just as it is obvious even to me; I had not come here, lured by anyone; or anything in my equine nature as a Pony.

Had I continued, in a straight line, I would have gotten to the end, of some kind. Yet, I am finding myself; now satisfied, as I am reaching the path that had taken me here.

The wings of curiosity.

Satisfied, I am turning back. Just one step after another; as I put one hoof before the other.

I may start out, with a slow and leisurely trot; picking up speed, as I enjoy the feeling of the wind in my mane.

Just one hoof at a time, one hoof before the other; even if I start out in a slow trot, I soon find myself in a brisk gallop, as I continue to pick up speed.

Maybe, just maybe; the speed itself, is irrelevant. However; the elation of movement and the wind in my mane, is still exciting and exhilarating to me. I can not help myself. I enjoy myself. The experience, growing on me.

Faster and faster. I can not hold back, or stop myself.

No idea, as to how far I had gotten; but the path is here and now.

I am enjoying myself, as if I could not get enough or grow tired.

But alas, I slow down, stopping as I approach the square.

Maybe, just maybe; it is the stones under my hoof, letting on I am closing in.

”Should I explore the next path?” I ponder; ”but I think it is time, to go home!” I conclude.

With that; I stop, at the middle of the square of red stones.

Just as before, these stones are looking as if they had been laid the day before. No sign of wear and tear.

Of course, the stones are hard, durable.

This, is not earth. However, I am certain; this place is just as real, as the one I had left.

I want to share this experience, with my sister. Just as I want to explore the other paths.

How could I not share it with my sister? This would not just be unthinkable; but akin to leave my human self, or my right or left side at the gate.
”Glip, glop; glip, glop; glip, glop..” is heard, as I trot across the square of red stones.
I approach the tree, slowing down as I close in on the tree.
Of course, the portal is still there, just as expected. I can see the blue surface of the pond; the horizon, I will have to cross.
I raise my right hoof, probing the surface; just as I had, as I had arrived from the other side.

The smooth surface, greeting the sole of my hoof; just as it had, on the other side. Nothing had changed. Just as I had been expecting. Why should anything change, or be changed while I am here? I have no idea, and right now I do not care.

Tentatively, I pull my hoof back; just as before, I feel my hoof being pulled back. I had never intended to pull back.

After a moment, I set my hoof down, trotting towards the horizon.

”Glip, glop; glip, glop; clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard.

The sound of my steps, changing as I pass the border.

I am back, home. On Earth.

”Since I can’t recall, seeing this before; I wonder, if the tree will still be here by tomorrow!” I ponder, as I take the bath back and away from the huge tree.

While I still do not per se feel the clothes I wear, or the muzzle and ears; I know they are there, because I am back on Earth.

”The tree?” she responds; ”What tree?” she continues.

”The huge tree, in the middle of the park; just after the Cherry trees, I was hoping we could see tomorrow!” I respond.

”Oh, you mean the World tree?” she inquires; ”Now I want to see the Cherry trees in bloom too!” she points out.

”If we go up, early tomorrow; preparing the basket, we could have a picnic under the Cherry trees?” I suggest.

”I would love that!” she proclaims, jubilantly.

”Settled..” I respond; ”picnic under the Cherry trees tomorrow!” I confirm, as I continue trotting.

Author's Note

More will be following shortly.

Out, for: 6

As my Sister is out in the park, I had chosen to put on my own suit.

Of course, I am already wearing the horn, if you could consider wearing the correct term? It would imply I could take it off, and put it back on like a piece of clothing or accessory. I don’t think, or feel this being the case.

Putting it onto my forehead had effectively fused it onto me; it had bonded to me in a far more intimate and intricate manner almost as if it is a part of me and who I am. Not that it is changing my memories of the past, but it changes how I think and react. Indeed, the very way I move.

Of course, I had put the muzzle onto my face; this is how I can speak to my sister if and when she is not in the room. Likewise; the equine ears are on my head, which is effectively removing my human ears. Or, so I have come to realize.

As I am wearing the suit, it is lending me the Equine hue; similar to the white of the March Mallow Rarity, herself. Of course, I had chosen this suit myself; even knowing my sister owns an identical suit, which she is currently wearing. Or, at least I believe she is wearing it. If she is not wearing it, it means she had slipped out of it; which I doubt she would do, outside or in the public. What I could not know, is the effects upon her; caused by the location she had trotted over to, partially because I have not yet been there or experienced this effect.

I am still wearing a blue skirt and top; as I am picking up the right hind stocking. I slip my foot in, pulling at the stocking; feeling the material slowly contracting in a loving embrace, as my right foot slowly slides down almost as if on its own accord. A moment later, I feel the foot reaching the end of its path, as it slides into position; only for the foot to turn into an equine hoof, in the process.

My balance is shifting, but I persist and pull the right hoof down onto the floor. Now I pick up the left stocking, slipping the foot in without as much as a trace of hesitation; slipping the foot down slowly, feeling the stocking contract around my foot and leg. Inch by inch; the stocking is sliding all the way up over the thigh and up to my crotch.

For just a moment, I stand still; before I pick up the stocking, for my right hand. With practiced ease, I slip the hand in; pulling at the stocking with my left hand, feeling the material contracting lovingly as my hand continues to slide further and further in. After a moment, I feel the tips of my fingers reach the end; only for my hand to change, into an equine fore-hoof.

I momentarily stop; looking at my hand transforming, before my very eyes.

Now I am picking up the fourth and final stocking, slipping the left hand in; feeling the growing contraction, as the hand continues to slide in.

At the left hand reaches the end, it fluidly transforms into a hoof in a fluid movement. I had already seen it before; so this does not shock, or even affect me by now. In the process, I had become Equine, a Pony of the Equestrían variety. I am now fully transformed into a Unicorn.

Since I am now standing firmly on all four hooves, on the floor in our cloaking-room; I slowly pick up a set of crystal-clear equine boots for my hooves: slipping them on, right and left, hind and fore. Just as I see the silicon boots stretch in the process of putting them on, I can feel the material contracting and sliding into place; before I move on to the next one.

Only now, I am picking up the shoes, for outdoor use; stepping onto and into them one at the time: right and left, hind and fore. For a moment, I feel the shoes, as I am stepping onto them; before they fuse to my hooves as nailed on, just to blend in with the hoof and visibly disappear.

This will reinforce, and protect my hooves against the wear and tear; as I am walking, or trotting outdoors.
Just as I am approaching the door, it opens before me; not at my command, but because my sister is trotting into the cloaking-room with me.

“Hi, Sis!” she exclaims, as she had closed the door behind herself.

She closed the door, not so much with a hand she does not have or with a hoof that is uselessly inconvenient; but with the aid of the magic, in her control.

She is stopping in the middle of the diminutive room, before she takes her shoes off of her hooves; extending her magic, picking the shoes up and depositing them into their place on her shoe-rack.

“Hi, Sis!” I respond.

Now she is pulling each of her stockings off; right and left, fore and hind. Just as she slips out of the stockings, her body reverts back into her human form. I watch her, as she is transforming back into her Human form.

A moment later, she is standing on her own two feet; in the middle of the cloaking-room, turning around to face me once more.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop..” is heard, as I slowly move towards her, one step at the time.

Of course, I am moving slowly; I do not want to pounce her, or overshoot her and hit my head into the wall.
For a moment, she stands still, looking at me, looking down since I am so much shorter than her right now.

My eyes aiming at her belly, before I refocus and aim my head up to face her.

She takes a few steps forwards, towards me and stop just one step away. I slow down and stop; my head touching her right hip. It is a bit strange and unfamiliar; but I am getting used to it, despite my habit of being identical. We are after all identical twins.

“It is almost, like having a Pet..” she coos; but next time, I could be your pet if you like!” she offers.

“Yes, I guess it is..” I neigh, in response; “I guess, that would be fun!” I conclude in response, giggling at the situation.

As I respond, I notice her placing her right hand on my head; her left hand reaching for the ear.

She soon starts to scratch the ear, absentmindedly; though I can feel, she is liking it. I can’t deny, enjoying the sensation; even if it is my sister, scratching my ear.

Is this an Equine thing, among Ponies; or am I accepting, enjoying it exactly because it is my sister?

Though I guess, it is something in her touch; how it feels, with her now long nails. This just would not have been the same, had her nails been shorter or short.

“Had I been a cat, of any kind; I would have been purring, by now!” I soon realize.

I find myself relaxing, almost as I had been about to fall to sleep; or possibly, been in a hypnotized trance. The moment, the sensation of her scratching my ears; I find it comforting, to the point of being mesmerizing.

She is in control, but I do enjoy it.

I am safe.

“So comforting..” I whinie quietly, almost like a murmur and just as soft and utterly intangible.

However, I can clearly sense my sister reacting; letting on, she understands what I mean.

On the other rubbery hoof, she is my sister; she is the other half of me, even if she is Human and I am Pony at the time. All these years, together; makes it into a second nature, understanding her in speech, expression and emotion.

Do I have to be more perceptible, than anyone else; in order to understand her, considering the situation.

Maybe a Horse-Whisperer would have understood? I do not know, and I don’t really care. Just a stray notion.

There is but the one thing, that matters right now; my sister, scratching my ear. How could anything else be of any import, to me? I do not ask, I do not pose the question; because I don’t want a response, and I certainly do not wish to know.

Am I ignorant? Just because I want to enjoy this one moment, and the bliss offered me by my sister.

Who’s to say, and who is to care.

This is the one instant, the bliss offered me by my sister.

How does one put it into words, or is it something you just have to experience?

I do not know, but I am experiencing it right now.

Maybe I know; the moment will not last, can not last. Still, I am enjoying it for all it is worth.

She had been quiet, but she need say nothing. There is no point, in saying anything.

Words, would only corrupt the moment.

As I am enjoying the moment, I am absorbing it. I am integrating the experience, into my very soul. Savoring and savouring it; in a manner, and in a place from where it can never be extracted. This is forever a part of me, who I am.

I will be offering her the same experience, of course; next week, as she had offered me the manicure and pedicure.

The unspoken agreement. A joy to perform, just as it is a joy to be treated.

I need to say nothing; she knows what I mean just as I know what she means, what it is I do not know. I just experience the moment. What more is there?

I still remember what she said, what she told me and what she asked.

There is, but the moment.

Nothing more required.

However, as short as it is; this one moment is an eternity.

But even an eternity had an end. The moment is evaporating.

At least, I can return, just as she could.

I know what I need. Just as she knows and understands.

While I know she is enjoying this moment, with me; we both knew it had to end, and she is lifting her hand from my head as she takes a step forwards.

The door before her opens, as she steps out into the living room.

The door before me, opens up; I step out, onto our porch.

Clip, clop; clop, clop!” I heard as I exit our home, just before the door is closing behind me.

Author's Note

https://www.fimfiction.net/chapter/1506210

At Home: 2

I still hear the music, of Octavia playing, as I close the door to my sister’s room; walking into my own room. I close the door behind myself.

Helping my sister, as she was slipping into these stockings had been fun; in a purely sisterly manner, the two of us have been enjoying for as long as I or we could remember. She is kind of like a second me. She helps me, and I help her.

By the time I had closed the door to my room, I have forgotten I wear the muzzle and the other accessories I had bought at the museum. It isn’t, as if I feel them on my skin in the first place; the design is flawless, just as one would have been expecting out of Rarity. This is after all a genuine Rarity design. Would I have bought these, had it not been genuine Rarity?

I breathe and speak unhindered, as if I had been born with this equine muzzle. While I had initially noticed how these ears are enhancing my hearing; but I don’t notice the ears themselves by any means, it feels as natural as if I had been born with them.

The tail hangs limp behind me, unless I flicker it in the equine manner of the Pony Rarity is. Even if the Rarity who designed it is her Human counterpart, it changes exactly nothing.

While it may have been a school trip, purely for educational purposes; I had enjoyed the trip, and I am still enjoying the fact that I had been there.

While I may have been enjoying Rarity before; both the stylish designs, and her generosity. But now, I had gained a new or renewed understanding and appreciation of who she is. Not just the image, of who she is and had been. It is not just her designs, I appreciate and adore; it is Rarity herself.

Now I had been offered the chance, the opportunity; to acquire a small part of her, for myself. With that, I had accepted the opportunity; purchasing a small selection, as memento of the trip I had been enjoying. Not that I had been the only one, to enjoy the trip; I had enjoyed the trip, with my sister or other self with my class.

Only now, I am back home; back in my own room, at our very own home. I am in my room, looking as if it had been a mirror of the room in which my sister is; just as she is identical to me, so my room is identical to her. However, we do enjoy culturing a few distinct differences; so that we can play the twin card, any and every time we so desire. If and when, this is convenient or entertaining. Knowing full well, how confusing it is for others in our surroundings; but this is, what it is to be identical twins.

If she is a minute older than me, but neither of us have any memory of these early days in our lives. It is the nature of things, you don’t truly form personal memories this early.

Now, I am alone in my own room. The means by which I am forming my personality separate from my twin. We are not by any means a matching set. I am me, and she is her. What’s the point of the confusion?

Since I can still hear Octavia on her Cello, I don’t bother playing any music of my own.

“Curious..” I mumble; “It’s still crystal clear sound, even in here after I had closed my door!” I ponder, in stark realization.

She is my twin, so it does not bother me; we largely share tastes, and mood most of the time.

Maybe I should be studying, too? Or, maybe I should have one last look; at my own trove of treasure?

“Of course..” I ponder; “I can always study, once I had gone over the mementos and placed them where I want them?” I ponder.

“Yes, I guess you could!” I hear my sister; almost as if she had been standing in my room, just a few feet away.

“Thank you, Sis!” I respond, without even realizing, that I had heard her from her room.

Of course, she had heard what I had said; since I have a microphone in the muzzle. I guess, she does have a microphone, on her touch-pad too. It is just so unexpected, to hear her response; when I had not expected her to, knowing she is studying in her room.

I never did consider this, maybe I should have; but since it is only my sister, who is hearing it I don’t need to care. If it is the distance to her room, that is negligible; or if it is something else, of which I do not know. I had never been the technical oriented girl in the first place. Not to say, I can’t handle technical applications as well, as the next girl.

Being so close to my sister, it is just binding us even tighter together; but I enjoy having her by my side, and hearing her is a comfort to me.

I do not, by any means sense her thoughts; or see what she is looking at. I am not in the same room, so I can only hear what she says, and predict her mood by experience. She is not just a sister or a twin, she is an identical twin. Besides, we do enjoy doing things together and spend time together quite alot.

“Of course, I had bought all the accessories; not just because they are genuine Rarity, but because I like them!” I ponder.

I had unpacked everything, I had bought at the trip to the museum; at the same time, my sister had. Just as I had put the accessories on. Though I had not put on any of the clothes, I had bought.

On second thought, I had bought myself a set of these stockings my sister is wearing; I had found them just as irresistibly beautiful and adorable, as my sister had.

However, it is not everything I had bought, as I was there. I had bought several ensembles, I intend to wear; once I am home, I can mix and match as I please. Knowing these are all genuine Rarity articles, I expect them to be comfortable and perfect fit for me. How and why, but if they are genuine Rarity; they just had to be, simple as that.

“I feel like trying on the new panties I purchased, and brought home; if for nothing other, than to experience them for myself!” I ponder.

With that, I am walking over to my wardrobe, only stopping to open the door; extracting the package, containing the panties and a top. Now, I am closing the door of my wardrobe; turning towards my bed, promptly deposing the prize on the top of my bed.

I had extracted a package containing ten pristinely white panties. Now I am picking out a single pair. The material is three millimeter thick, smooth and glossy as if polished.

“Of course, I will have to undress; before I can try them on, so I can enjoy wearing them..” I ponder.

While being alone, on my room; there is no problem, even if I know my sister is at home.

I have seen, everything there is to see; she is identical to me, as if we had been produced in the same mould. If I see her, it is as if I am looking at myself; if she sees me, it is as if she had been looking at herself. Maybe, we are too identical; but it is, how it is. No point in moaning, or complaining.

In store; we are the perfect mirror, for one-another. Convenient, and we never found it embarrassing. Why, it is how it is; it is all we ever knew, and it is everything we have.

With her, my sister, my twin; I can play the twin card, any time I so choose. Not even our mother can tell us apart, just swap the accessories; and I am her, while she is me. Even if I had told them, explained everything; they still see me, if I say I am me. Or, they see her if I said I was her.

It is not, as if I or she had to practice; we are identical by default, and I guess we never bothered to change it.

Why?

Why bother?

We are identical, and it is what we are and how we like it.

I could wear a pink skirt, a bow on the right side or twin tails if I want.

She could wear a red skirt, her bow on her left side or have her hair in a braid.

Maybe we do, and it is fun.

“Wait, I did not buy a pink skirt..” I think; “Blue, or purple would go better with my image of Rarity!” I ponder, giggling for a moment.

Wait, she bought the blue, so I think I could safely go with the purple.

“Red and pink, is just like blue and purple?” I ponder, in bemusement.

Slipping the skirt down, picking it up; just to place it onto my bed, rather than leaving it on the floor to collect dust. I slip my panties down, placing them on the skirt.

Now I pick up the pristine, white panties; stepping right into them with practiced ease, affording them a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice in order to acquire that perfect fit.

While they had slipped up, with the comforting ease of smooth silk or silicone; they momentarily feel strange on my skin, before they warm up to me and slowly blends in as if they had been worn or my skin. This is odd, but I almost forget them; as if I had always worn these panties, or other panties just like them. These are after all genuine Rarity design, but the warm silicon is highly elastic and adaptable. Maybe, just maybe; they still hold a shard or reflection of Rarity and her genuine generosity? I do not know, but I would love to imagine it is the case.

If my sister wears the blue skirt, I pick the purple counterpart to her metallic electric blue.

I had just picked up the skirt, now stepping into the skirt; pulling it up, affording it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice in order to acquire the perfect fit.

I can see the skirt hugging my hips, covering my thighs; as the purple material glisters with the metallic hue, with which she had imbued it.

“I do need to put on the rest of this ensemble; Rarity would not approve, of me wearing other or inferior clothes to ruin the ensemble she had put so much effort into designing for me!” I reflect; as I am looking around, for a moment.

“In the name of Rarity, I want to look my best!” I ponder, with a giggle; “And a B-Cup, should be just right!” I conclude, as I am picking the top out of its package.

With my hands over my head, I pull the skirt down slowly; affording it a few tentative tugs: once, twice and thrice; in order to acquire that ever elusive perfect fit.

Now I slide up my hands along the sides of my body, gauging the result of the matching, white top I am wearing; feeling the firm bust on my chest, smooth and round.

“Excellent, excellent..” I ponder, as a wide grin of satisfaction is spreading out over my face.

Had I been looking into a mirror, I would have seen the smile spreading out seamlessly over my face; no telling where the muzzle ends, and where my original skin begins. Should it have scared, frightened me; or, should it be exciting me no end? I do not know; since I had not considered it, or realized it is something to ponder just yet.

Now, should I consider; or just enjoy the ride for all it is worth?

While I may be excited, but my nipples stay hidden; maintaining my appearance stylish.

“Whoa..” I ponder.

“I guess this is a genuine, Rarity design; she wants for me, to be presentable and fashionable at all times!” I ponder, as I giggle, at the reaction.

Of course, there is no response from my sister; she had not heard anything, since I had not vocalized my reaction. Guess I could be thankful for that. It would still have been embarrassing, even if it is my sister.

Why.

Why should there be a response?

She is busy, studying; while I am busy, with what I am doing right now.

I have no intention, of distracting or disturbing her.

No more, than I actually need to. I don’t need to distract her, and I certainly do not need or require her attention or confirmation right now.

Why?

What for?

On second thought, there is one more item of clothing to attend to, right now.

“Oh, wait; didn’t she present me, with that super cute matching purple blouse top?” I ponder.

Never quite catching on, how her stylish words had crept into my head. While it is still me, my thoughts; I am expressing myself, with her words. Her, Rarity’s words colouring my train of thoughts.

It may have been slow and gradual, but these are certainly Rarity’s words and expressions.

Weird. Isn’t it? Yet, I still do enjoy myself.

Maybe I had invited her in? Had I?

Looking at the item of clothing, as I am extracting it out of its original container; after I had picked up the package, opening it just to see the purple blouse top.

Of course; it is the same smooth, sleepk semi slippery and highly elastic material as everything else. I momentarily ogle the item before me. Observing the snug, tight and form-fitting cute she had given me. The design, I had chosen.

Had I tried to pull at the fabric, it would stretch out; because it is the design, rarity had crafted.

Now, I slip my right hand in, through the sleeve; feeling the cool and slippery material stretching as my hand slips all the way through.

I repeat the process, with my left arm; the result, and the experience exactly the same. With the exception; of the sleeve already covering my right arm, now.

Once the blouse top is finally on; I slowly, carefully and meticulously button it up all the way to the very last button just under my chin. From the first to the last. As I do, something change; almost as if the material had fused, leaving only the mark of the buttons.

At least, I am finally dressed up. I am wearing a complete ensemble, such as I had chosen it.

Looking around, momentarily; before I find it, the item of my search.

“Oh, but there it is!” I ponder.

I find the package, containing the unicorn horn. I had picked it up, at the museum; thinking nothing of it, only seeing a curious accessory.

The horn of Rarity’s, at first a mere plastic looking accessory. It is cool, to cold to the touch; though it soon warms up, to the touch of my skin.

While I could not quite place the texture of the horn’s surface; though its texture is fleeting and not quite feels as if it had decided on what it is, it slowly changes in a fluidly fluctuating manner. Moving between rubber and silicon at first, then slowly growing had, yet highly sensitive.

If hooves are hard and cold, to the touch; horns may still be hard, just not as cold as a hoof.

As I had picked up the horn, my horn; now there are changes, as I more the horn towards the top of my head, my forehead. The horn, originally dark and opaque.

I gently press the blunt edge of the horn onto my forehead, only to find it sticky and move so than I had been expecting. I had known it should stick to the skin of my forehead, I just had not realized the adhesive would be as strong or as deep effecting.

Had it not adhered to my skin, it would have been falling off; I would have been forced to hold it into place, constantly holding it in my hand. Now I am free, to move and to act; as if I had been born with the horn, or if it had never been there in the first place.

Had I known of this effect, or even suspected as much; would I have bought the thing, not to mention putting it onto my forehead?

Naturally the horn is sticking to the skin, just as intended and expected; but then the line between my skin and the pristine white horn starts to blur, as the horn visibly and physically is fusing to my head. Its position perfect.

Had I missed the spot, would it have stuck? I have no idea, but I had not yet noticed this. I have no mirror before me, so I can not see it. The sensations and sensitivities currently unchanged and still unchanging. As had been expected.

There is a momentary tingling sensation, st the tip of my horn.

I focus, and the horn starts to glow bright and illuminate the room with my native Unicorn magic.

“Wait, what!” I ponder, while remaining quiet; focusing, channeling the magic.

The sensation, had been nothing. The tingling; a cue, or a rouse. For me, to focus on what it had been representing. Once I am focusing, the sensation had already faded; I am focusing the magic.

I now feel the spark of heat, from the orb of my blue magic.

Of course, the magic is the colour of my eyes.

Incidentally, the colour my eyes matching the colour of the beautiful Rarity.

Just as Rarity’s horn, the skin of my face now the same bright white. Pristine, unblemished.

“Whoa, so bright!” I exclaim, as it hit home a moment later.

“Bright?” I hear my sister.

She may be surprised, but she is not an echo.

“The light..” I respond, as I continue to focus; “my magic..” I continue.

“Clip, clop; clip, clop; clippity-clop” I hear, as four hooves are hitting the floor.

I walk to the door, about to extend my hand in order to open the door; only to find the door magically opening by itself, under the influence on my magic. I had reached out, opening the door before I had even realized it.

In effect, I had continued walking. The next door, opening before me as if she had been opening it for me.

As I am entering the room, she is standing on all four; each of her hooves firmly on the floor, in the quadruped stance of a true equine.

It all makes sense, to me.

“She is my reflection..” I ponder.

It is a stark realization, even if I had known it all along. I had known it, all my life.

She is not just my twin, after all.