“Do you think they sent us a defective zebra?” asked the young man leaning over the zebra enclosure.
His companion, a middle-aged woman with broad shoulders, and wide, rounded features, followed the man’s gaze. To where a rather short, large-eyed zebra was staring up at them from the other side of the barrier. It seemed to ignore the other three of its kind that was also placed alongside it, preferring to study its human keepers with an almost intelligent eye.
“Nah. That one’s just a bit odd,” replied the woman after a long pause. “Her last zoo in Zambia warned us that she freaked people out by staring at them for long periods of time. It's the only reason we were able to trade for her so easily.”
“You don't think she’s… smart, do you?” asked the younger, darker-skinned male.
The older keeper chuckled. “She's certainly smarter then most, even recognizes her name, but she's still just a dumb animal. Shits wherever she's standing, doesn't understand windows, you know how it is.”
“So like, dog level then?”
“About there, I’d say. I’ve had some rather intelligent, and empathetic horses in my time so it's not too out of the ordinary. Just don't see too many zebras like her.”
“Like her?” he asked.
“Zecora is her name,” she replied.
The zebra before them perked up, its ears twitching excitedly.
“Freaky. You don't think the rumors are true and that she was experimented on by some voodoo doctor or something,” whispered the male.
His companion smacked a well-worn hand up the back of the male’s hand.
“Hey what was that for?” he demanded.
“For being a grossly insensitive moron,” she deadpanned, arms crossed over her chest. “I can't even go into all the ways what you said was wrong.”
“Okay so maybe not voodoo then,” he conceded.
She sighed. “Look. She was rescued from the house of a rather eccentric rap artist with a rather sordid history. Zecora here was never abused, nor was there any indication that she was experimented on in any capacity. She was just treated more human than most animals, that's it.”
“Alright, alright. Yeesh. I was just asking,” he muttered.
“Next time you think about letting that tongue of yours waggle out of your head, you best restrain yourself. Lest you end up like Dave,” she retorted.
“I might be a moron, but I ain't a bigot. Besides, I’m black,” he proclaimed, arms extended.
“Doesn't mean you can't be an idiot,” deadpanned the older woman. “Now come on. I gotta make sure the new elephant hasn't decided to make love to another tree and you gotta clean up its shit.”
“I hate elephants,” he muttered.
Zecora meanwhile, just stood there, watching as the two humans walked away, leaving her alone with her kind. Though not nearly as stimulating as the company that she had been a part of a moment earlier, it was acceptable. She was, after all, still an animal, and thus did not have words for boredom, or anything else for that matter either.
The rest of the day was a blur to the zebra, who spent most of it wandering around, eating, resting, and heeding the call of nature. Throughout it all, a slow parade of various humans passed by, gazing down at her from the concrete burm. They were intriguing, but for some reason didn't strike Zecora’s interest nearly as much as the two keepers.
The way they spoke about her, and to her made the zebra feel strange. Not pleasant, or uncomfortable, just odd, in an almost nostalgic way that she didn't have words for. It brought back memories of when she was young and had spent the majority of her time inside a house.
There the ground was cool, and hard, unlike the warm, coarse grass that she was quickly growing used to. The mansion was also far more interesting than the grassy, partially wooded area she now found herself in. There were far more colors, and sounds, unlike here where there were only the other zebras, as well as the murmur of the crowd.
That strange set of thoughts left the zebra feeling awkward for some reason, so before the sun could even set, Zecora decided to sleep. Normally the last to fall asleep, Zecora found herself tired earlier than usual, her head and eyes heavy. Resting against a shady tree, the zebra slowly drifted off, ushered into the realm of sleep by the distant chatter of the distant humans.
Unlike every other time she rested, this time Zecora dreamt images and sounds flickering past her. It was such a confusing kaleidoscope of events that she didn't have any concept of half of what she was seeing. Strange hooved creatures popped into view, startling the zebra with their bright colors, only for their faces to vanish a moment later.
She heard voices, and music but struggled to pick out any word that she understood. Then the parade of strange creatures stopped, and the zebra found herself in the midst of a great forest.
Trees, larger than any she had ever seen before surrounded the zebra on all sides. The sun, though high in the sky, couldn't seem to pierce the canopy above the animal’s head. It was a strange, terrifying place full of foreign sounds, new sights, and absolutely no familiarity.
Yet the creature didn't panic, due mostly because of the fact that nothing really looked that strange. The zebra had seen trees before, had heard birds in the past, this was different, but not so much so that it didn't have a frame of reference. In fact, it felt oddly homey here, though the animal couldn't understand why, or even what that feeling really was.
It just smelled nice, setting the zebra’s mind at ease despite all the weirdness that surrounded it. This train of thought was interrupted when a butterfly landed upon the end of the zebra’s muzzle. Drawing its eyes down to the soft pink insect, the animal watched with amazement until the tiny thing fluttered off.
With nothing else to do, the animal trotted after it, unbothered by the fact that the forest was only growing darker. All the animal saw was a brightly colored insect flitting through the branches of the trees, flying ever onward. With the curious zebra quick on its heels, the insect flapped a little harder, quickly disappearing amidst the canopy.
There Zecora stood, watching as the insect drifted away, leaving the zebra alone once more. Not like the animal minded, it was quite used to being alone, albeit for short periods of time. This was no different, it decided, likely just another change like the one that had seen it leave its birth home and end up in the zoo. Granted it didn't remember being shipped away, but the animal didn't exactly have the mental acuity for that.
So it continued on, wandering around, oblivious to how deep it was going, or how much time had passed. Soon enough the shadows began to lengthen, and the zebra’s stomach started to rumble, stopping it in it’s tracks. Looking around, Zecora found a tasty-looking patch of grass with a slightly yellowish tint to it.
Leaning down, the animal took a bite, only to immediately spit it back out and stumble backward. The grass which had looked soft was actually sharp and had cut up the animal’s tongue, causing blood to fill her mouth. The pain was intense, but not overwhelming, the lesson serving as a harsh reminder of its inexperience in this odd place.
It was an unpleasant event, but not one so terrible that the animal lost its appetite completely. Spitting out a mass of blood, the zebra began looking for a better alternative and quickly found it. Only a few feet away, at the base of a tree, sheltered between its roots was a patch of completely normal-looking grass.
Long, green, and narrow, it even smelled like the kind the zebra knew from her homeland. She wasn't about to trust it so easily however and gave it a light touch with her hoof, then a sniff. It seemed to be okay, and reluctantly, after clearing its mouth a second time, took a bite of the stuff. Though it tasted similar, something felt slightly off about the entire thing, and Zecora paused mid-chew.
It was then that she noticed that her tongue had gone numb, and with a growing panic, she spat a third time. The clump of grass had turned purple, while her blood was starting to clump in a strange manner. This was an incredibly unpleasant sight, though for reasons Zecora didn't have the words to explain its emotions.
With its second attempt at locating food now stymied, the zebra reluctantly admitted defeat. It would simply wait for the humans to bring her food and in the meantime, it would find some water to drink. Looking around revealed no obvious source of the precious liquid, nor any sign of it being nearby either.
With no other options, the zebra chose a direction at random and began trotting off that way. Only to trip after walking for only a few minutes, her muzzle slamming into the ground with a painful crack. The zebra winced, and rubbed her injured face, noting the twinge of pain that came when she ran a hoof across it.
It was simply too dark, and there was no way that she was going to find substance while nearly blind. The only light came from the distant moon, but it was too little illumination and struggled to pierce the ever-present canopy above. So with few other options, the zebra plunked down and considered simply going to sleep right there.
From where it sat, it could see basically nothing save for the tree next to her, and a few bushes. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it seemed as good a place as any at the moment so it plunked down right there. Nestled within the crook of the tree, the zebra closed its eyes and attempted to return to the realm of dreams.
It didn't manage to do so, however, as, within only a few minutes, something noisy had approached it. The angry squeaking coming from behind her didn't bother the zebra though, and she simply closed her eyes tighter. A sharp, stabbing pain coming from her back made Zecora’s eyes snap open, and her entire body to leap into the air.
Spinning around, the zebra looked down at a bloody-mouthed fox hissing up at her angrily. Zecora stumbled backward, confused and panicky from the rather rude awakening she had received. This seemed to set the fox at ease, however, and it promptly ducked into a hole at the base of Zecora’s sleeping tree.
Now in more pain than before, the zebra looked down to find that its flank was bleeding quite profusely. Not only that but the stinging sensation wouldn't leave her, no matter what she did. This sent another bolt of panic through her body, and the zebra began to worry that this was a serious injury.
Then an idea occurred, and she thought back to the odd grass it had found not long ago. Though unpleasant, and not quite as tasty after chewed a bit, it had caused her mouth to stop bleeding. Plus the cuts in her mouth didn't hurt nearly as bad as they had before she had taken a bite of the stuff.
With a plan in mind, she tried to retrace her steps, but it was at that point nearly pitch black. Leading to the zebra to trip for a second time, only this time it fell much further than before. Tumbling down the side of a creek bed, the zebra landed in a wet, muddy puddle with a soft splash.
Now wet, hungry, tired, injured, and confused, the zebra tried to rise only to collapse once more. The moment she put weight on the leg, it had stung her like a bolt of lightning, causing a bitter whine to come from the creature. The animal tried to focus on the fact that it had water, but that didn't make things any easier for it.
In fact, just leaning back down towards the source of water was enough to make the creature to clench its jaw in pain. Pushing past it, the zebra quickly located some gently flowing water and took a few gulps of the stuff. Cold, and slightly dirty, it wasn't a pleasant experience, but at least the animal didn't feel thirsty anymore.
Now with one of its needs met, the zebra tried to find someplace to rest. It started its search by trying to go back up the hill but found it too steep to do so. To make matters worse, it could barely put any weight on its injured leg, limping slowly along the riverbed.
A few minutes after setting off once more, the zebra stopped, its ears twitching back and forth. A strange voice was in the distance, one that sounded almost like its keepers back in the zoo. Trotting in that direction, the zebra felt hope for the first time since its sudden change in location.
That hope was dashed when it came upon a pair of what looked like horses standing near the edge of the creek. Armored in shiny metal plates, and leather armor, the pair had set their lanterns down and were dipping water skins into the creek. The sight was a confusing one, but the familiar-sounding words that came from them gave Zecora the courage to approach.
“Hey, do you hear that? I think someone’s coming,” whispered a tall, thin unicorn mare with long, braided pink hair.
“Do you think it's that missing colt we are looking for?” asked his companion, a wide, out-of-shape earth pony stallion with a short-cropped mane of scarlet hair.
“I don't know. It sounds a bit too heavy, hold on,” replied the mare.
Raising the lantern above her head, the mare found herself staring at the strangest sight she had ever beheld. There before her stood what looked like a pony, only they had stripes of white and black across their body. They sported no cutie mark, and had several visible injuries, like a swollen, and likely badly twisted leg. On top of that, the strange pony had several cuts across its lips, and a small chunk had been bitten out of its flank.
“Hey uh, you okay?” asked the stallion.
“I don't think that's a pony,” whispered the mare.
“What are you talking about? They might look a little strange but…” the stallion trailed off. “Actually, that is kind of freaky.”
“I don't think this… thing, is intelligent. Just look at its eyes. It doesn't understand a word we're saying,” remarked the mare.
“You don't think it's a monster, do you? Like, some kind of shape shifter?” replied her companion.
“Don't think so. Looks scared. Confused too,” answered the unicorn.
“We should help it. Maybe bring it back to town. I’m sure someone will know what it is,” offered the earth pony.
“Right, you calm it down. I’ll try and get a rope on it,” exclaimed the stallion.
Zecora didn't know what had been said, but their tones had been soft, gentle almost. So she stood there, watching as the one with the pointy head began to walk up to her. It sounded like they were trying to calm Zecora down, much in the same way the zoo keepers did when it had been startled by a car backfiring.
It reassured the zebra that its choice had been the correct one, allowing Zecora to relax for the first time. The humans had been able to fix her injuries before, and they had fed her. She just hoped these creatures were close enough to humans that they knew the same things.
The pointy-headed one approached with a hoof full of berries pulled from a pouch on its chest. The sight of the bright blue fruits made Zecora’s bloody mouth water, though she was hesitant. The pony seemed to understand this and took several into her mouth before chewing in an exaggerated fashion.
This eased Zecora’s worries, and the zebra was about to take the offered food when she noticed something off. The larger of the two was approaching from the zebra’s side, a long length of rope in his hoof. The mere sight of the brown loop, sent terror straight into the zebra’s heart, making the organ thump loudly.
Having been discovered, the fat stallion lurched forward, throwing the rope up and aiming for Zecora’s head. The panicked zebra twisted out of the way, striking the male in the face with its uninjured forehoof. The attack was weak but forced him back without doing much more than giving him a nasty nosebleed.
His companion tossed aside the berries and tried to use some glowing lasso of energy to capture Zecora. The animal was too fast, however, and leaped aside, jumping to what she thought was safety. Her assumption was incorrect, however, as the zebra had actually thrown herself into the middle of the river.
The undertow immediately grabbed Zecora, and dragged it downstream, pulling its head beneath the water. Now kicking, coughing, and paddling as best as it was able, Zecora struggled to stop itself from being submerged once more. The strange quadrupeds that had attempted to capture her followed for a little while but were soon left behind.
Sputtering and spitting out water, Zecora emerged from the river, only to fall beneath the current once more. This repeated several more times one after another with only a few seconds passing between emerging and falling under once more. The repeated dunkings robbed the zebra of its strength, as did the remarkably cold water, making its struggles weaker.
Just as the zebra was about to pass out, something bumped against her, giving Zecora a final lifeline. Which it clutched to with all its remaining strength, grabbing onto the fallen log with both forehooves. Though the act was painful, Zecora pulled itself out of the water, and onto the surprisingly sturdy hunk of wood.
There it lay for several seconds, breathing heavily and doing its best to clear its lungs of any water. Once its breathing felt normal, the zebra clambered towards the side of the river and threw itself in that direction. Scrambling against the stoney bank of the river, Zecora managed to drag its nearly numb legs out of the water.
It remained there for many minutes, waiting for its legs to return to it, and for the numbness to fade. Once that happened, it stumbled into a stand and began to look around once more. Now, much more cautious, the zebra found that it was alone, the moon giving it just enough light to see its surroundings.
Including the river, its pebble-strewn banks, and the high stone walls that rose up on either side of it. Towering higher than even the trees she had seen earlier, the zebra found itself awe-struck by their size. That was until it heard the call of a distant, unknown animal, sending fear straight into her heart.
With panic gnawing at the edge of her thoughts, the zebra quickly limped towards the cave. Which it found to be surprisingly accommodating, and was wide enough to allow several creatures to walk next to one another. It was also deep, winding left, and then right before opening up into a remarkably large space that housed what looked like a tree.
Only it wasn't like any the zebra had ever seen before.
Made entirely of crystal, and sitting in the center of a strangely well-illuminated room, the odd structure loomed over Zecora. Standing nearly a dozen of her tall, the shimmering crystal was weirdly enchanting to the animal. Sporting only five branches, the zebra had several clumps of circular crystals that dangled from shimmering strands. There was also a sun, as well as a moon emblazoned upon its trunk, in the center of which was a six-pointed starburst.
Zecora had no name for this odd tree, but it felt oddly homey, reminding the zebra of the sensation she received upon waking up. Not only was the tree warm, enticing, and relaxing, but it also exuded a calm, almost pitying aura towards the animal. Unable to resist the temptation, Zecora limped forward and laid down in front of the crystal tree.
As it lay there, the aches, pains, and worries began to dull, washed away by the shimmering glow of the tree. In seconds the zebra began to drift off, unable to hold back the wave of exhaustion that soon overwhelmed it. Again, it dreamt, and again the visions it beheld felt nonsensical, and random.
More strange horses, more bright colors, and more words it couldn't comprehend. All that and more flashed before Zecora’s animal mind like so much noise. That was until one of the words made sense, its definition popping into the zebra’s head out of nowhere.
Destiny.
It was followed by more words, along with a slowly expanding conscience that opened the zebra’s mind in a way that she couldn't quite understand. Words, language, an understanding of self, of others, and of the wider world all flooded into the zebra’s head. In an instant, Zecora went from an animal to a person, from a beast to a creature with goals and thoughts all its own.
Then the pictures returned, along with the voice and the soft, gentle words it spoke.
“Destiny is coming,” it whispered. “You must be its shepherd, defender, and guide. Show them the way, my adopted child.”
Zecora then saw six ponies flash before her eyes before vanishing in an instant, replaced by a stone ceiling. It took a moment, but Zecora soon realized that she was back in the cave and was still laying next to the tree. Only this time she knew it to be the tree of harmony, a force of unparalleled good.
Rising to her hooves, Zecora looked down at herself to find that her injuries had been healed. There was no stinging pain, or dull throb coming from her twisted hoof, only a strange warmth. With it came two realizations, one grim, and the other pleasant.
She knew then and there, that she would walk a long, and lonely road. Alone, and without any of her fellow zebras, she would be a race of one. Yet her life would one day be full of friends, laughter, and joy.
Before that could happen, however, she needed to leave this cave, and begin her long journey. Which she did after a mere moment of hesitation, her heart filled with courage.
“Zecora is my name,” she began, her voice warbling as the zebra got used to the act of speech. “And this forest, I shall tame.”
Author's Note
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