Wish Fulfillment

Rally headed out bright and early the next morning, Rusty Bucket not having time to wake her up. She took just a minute to shower again and eat a large breakfast before she geared up, the stallion tying the supplies he offered to her back. Then he gave her a quick, tight hug before she set off, Rally returning one last wave goodbye as she left.

It was just as cold outside now as it was before, but she at least had a hat and scarf now, so her ears and neck were protected. Not to mention, the sun was shining, and the wind seemed to have calmed down for now, which certainly helped. Walking itself was keeping her legs warm, but she couldn’t move as fast as she wanted. The trail was still steeply inclined, something that was made even more dangerous with the supplies she carried. She didn’t want to risk falling over and losing her things.

It was a mindless task, one made even more mindless with the less brutal temperature on account of the sun and her scarf. It made it a little bit more difficult to not pay attention to her newfound dysphoria, but it certainly didn’t stop her from trying. Still, she felt like she’d rather have gasoline in her veins than testosterone, and would rather have her fur shaved off than see her sharp, square muzzle whenever she glanced at her hooves. It brought back distant memories she had of years ago before she’d done anything, and made her grunt that she might have to do it all again.

She wondered as she walked if her friends would think to come to Equestria, and if they did, if they’d be put in the same predicament as her. Probably not, she figured, since about half of her friends that were like her hadn’t done anything on account of not wanting to be ‘half’ of their gender. The other half who were like her probably wouldn’t do anything to intentionally piss of Lord Zulu if they decided he was real. No, this was probably going to be a punishment exclusive to her.

Whatever the case was though, she kind of hoped they came to Equestria, so long as they weren’t put in any physical danger or mental distress like she was. Now that she was alone and had an objective, she found herself sorely missing them. That was probably the thing that hurt the most. Not the dysphoria or the cold or her aching legs. It was the loneliness associated with missing her friends dearly.

She tried to put all those things out of her mind though and keep placing one hoof in front of the other on her way to someplace else. The sun slowly warmed up the air, and she didn’t feel as nervous and frightened as she was when she first showed up or as angry and frustrated as she was at Rusty’s house. It was almost peaceful in fact, if not for being a stallion, and for how tired she was. Even still, despite knowing she was moving slower now than she was two days ago, she felt like she was making good time.

It was only a few hours when Rally got to the bottom of the mountain, around noon when the trail leveled off into a field of snow. It was a slog to walk through, like stepping through thick mud, and she could feel her legs already starting to go numb after just a few minutes. She wished she asked about a pair of boots, because it was once again starting to get painful.

She didn’t dare stop though, at least not until she came to a frozen river that was somehow clear of snow. It was wide, stretching for what looked like a couple thousand feet, and moved entirely across the plain from left to right. She was almost worried that if she stepped on it it would crack underneath her weight, but a random bite of wind reminded her that it was likely frozen solid.

She gingerly stepped onto it, testing the strength before deciding it was safe enough to be on. After that, she casually set her supplies on it, using her teeth to pull out a sleeping bag to lay on. She wanted a little time to warm up again, and crawled inside of it, shivering at the coldness of the ice for a while until her body temperature circulated long enough to make it somewhat comfortable. She almost thought it felt like a warm summer day compared to the weather she walked through, although that meant it was probably still under sixty degrees. She wasn’t going to complain though. A sleeping bag was certainly better than sleeping exposed in the middle of the snowy white plain.

Four or five days out here, she thought as she lay in the bag for a while. This is gonna be brutal, but not as cold as I thought it would be. And she had supplies– a tent, some water, food– enough to last that long. In a few days, she’d be in the Crystal Empire, so long as she kept moving, and all of this would be fixed.

Well, not fixed, but at least dysphoria will be the biggest problem I have. Better that than having to be out here all alone freezing myself to death. Hopefully anyway. She knew dysphoria, and she knew how bad it felt. It wasn’t very likely, but she knew there was a chance that she’d pick being stranded out here to being dysphoric.

Not that thinking those negative thoughts would help her, nor would thinking about how much she’d rather sink through the ice and drown out of frustration. What would help her was getting up and moving herself along, which is what she did. A lunch of frozen bread and cheese and a couple of apples is what she ate as she sat on top of her sleeping bag now. At the same time, she worked on trying to get either her hooves or magic to work all the while, although this seemed to be in vain. She wasn’t concerned yet though. At least one of them worked on instinct if need be.

She headed back off after trying for a while to get those things to work, having a little trouble setting her supplies back on her back without any grip before she set off. She walked the rest of the day until the sun started to go down, not able to get to the green. She wasn’t able to even see it anymore, assuming because she was lower in elevation now. Before the sun went down though, she did spot dark clouds gathering and felt the wind start to pick up. She knew what that meant.

“Wonderful. I get to deal with some Murphy’s Law bullshit, too,” she said aloud, doing what she could to push down her renewed sense of fear. She wanted to pretend she wasn’t so terrified by the prospect of snowfall as she was.

“Can’t stand here and cry though,” she told herself aloud, setting her stuff down where she was. “Can’t get too terrified about all of this.” Or, at the very least, she could use her fear to set up shelter instead of standing there thinking about what might happen.

Her heart was pounding as the sun sank and the clouds moved in, but she metaphorically kicked herself in the rear to get started with setting up shelter. Then she kicked the snow in real life to make a nice little spot where she could lay on the ground directly. The stallion didn’t know exactly what she was doing, but she figured it would be a good idea to not lay on top of snow.

It took much longer than she imagined, around half an hour to clear out a space the size of a big van. She was huffing and puffing by the time she was satisfied with her work, but didn’t stop. The wind was picking up, which only made her that much more afraid and determined to get something set up. If she could not have to build her tent in a blizzard, that would’ve been ideal in her opinion.

She started moving onto the tent, getting more and more anxious as she struggled to set it up. Her hooves still wouldn’t grip anything at her command, and using her teeth felt like an impossible task. It made her heart race that she would be in the open shelterless against whatever blizzard was coming.

“God damnit, come on and work!” she screamed desperately at her hooves, as though they would listen. “I cannot do this like this! Please!” Her hooves, however, didn’t answer her, predictably enough.

She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes frustratedly for a second before going back to using her teeth to try and assemble her shelter. After a couple of more unsuccessful minutes though, the snow she expected to come started to fall. Only a few flakes right now, but it was enough to tell her it was time to give up and tough it out without a tent.

“God, this is such fucking bullshit!” Rally complained bitterly. “Why does this all have to happen? It was barely even a joke!”

She shivered as a gust of wind hit her, trying to consider what to do. Her options right now seemed to be to either stay where she was for the night, head back to Rusty Bucket’s house, or keep walking through the snow. As unappealing as the first two options were, she was stubborn enough to not turn around and head backward. She knew that was just gonna piss her off more and ruin any of the progress she made today.

“Argh! This can not be happening to me! What did I do to deserve all of this?” She screamed into the wind as it whipped around her, little snowflakes landing on her nose as her mane blew wildly. “Why do I deserve Luna not helping me and being stranded on a mountain and not being able to pick things up and being stuck in the snow and risking death out here? Being a stallion is already punishment enough, and I didn’t even do anything! Why is this happening?”

She didn’t receive an answer outside of the wind biting her painfully again, cutting her and telling her she should huddle up with the protection she had available already. As much as she hated it, she did as it requested, and pulled the sleeping bag into the little opening of the tent as it lay on the ground. She knew the more layers she had between her and the cold, the better. The bottom of the tent on the ground would help keep her back from being so cold now, too. It was an improvement to yesterday, but an obvious downgrade to a fully assembled shelter.

She let out a shaky, scared, frustrated breath as she huddled herself into the sleeping bad and hoped this wouldn’t be as bad as she thought it was going to be. She didn’t stop shaking with fear though as the wind howled. She was truly afraid that she would die alone out here in the snow, and knew she needed someone with her. Anyone at all would be better than being alone.

I really wish Shorey was here, Rally thought sadly as she closed her eyes and curled into a ball in the sleeping bag. She would know what to do.