The Valley was a swell place most of the time. Strange things were known to occur, on occasion, but wildlife minded little. Foxes would rove and bees would patrol. All would do their part for the world they were apart of, little and large. The ponies however... well, that's where we should begin isn't it?
Dawn Flower had been in the valley for about three years. Like the rest, she never planned to be here, and she even wanted to leave for awhile. But once someone passes over the Far Ridge they never cross back or at least none she ever heard of. Sure expeditions were sent out every now and again. Some brave soul thinking they can sneak out when nopony is looking. It just doesn't work like that. And one morning, like any other morning, she wound her pocketwatch.
Dawn Flower carefully measured the sun to her dial. Ponies carry all sorts of things over the ridge. It was never much, and so few even knew why they had the items they did, but most felt a special attachment. Hers just so happened to be an old pocketwatch. It was gold plated and uncomfortably loud to most. She didn't mind none cause it kept the time. She wasn't sure about other places, and it's true most wildlife keep to their own, but after dark bad things can happen. She figured it's best to keep track of it all.
She hurried on up the path to the inn. As the gravel crunched under her, she took it all in. The wreathes were out now, as it was fall and the air felt light against her fur. It was totally different since crossing over. Everything just felt muted. Her emotions, any external stimuli, it was all just weaker. Not exactly gray like one might see in the stones covering up the horizon to the East and South. Not even dull or blurry like the murkiness of Nettle River running through town. Every day felt as if someone had skimmed something off it.
It was a busy morning in town. Winter preparations had come in full swing. Most every storefront and residence was stockpiling firewood. Most were worried bout' the trees running out in the next few years. Hopefully Mayor Sparks had a plan in hoof to solve that little problem. She was sure a little Earth Pony magic could get the trees sprouting again. That or some old fashion pony ingenuity. Weaving through the traffic, she made her way over to the Tittering Mare.
Smoky air and the warmth of a wood furnace greeted her upon entering the Tittered Mare, along with a shout from behind the bar.
"Mornin' Dawn. Come now hurry up ponies waiting out there." came a gravelly voice.
"I'm coming ma', don't you worry none it's always like this" She said whilst hurrying behind the counter. Now Clean Apron owned the establishment, but nobody in town knew her like that, to them and Dawn, she was Ma', Miss Apron, or The Fine Mare of the Establishment. The last one less so, and Dawn in her years here has only ever heard her addressed by that name three times. Each was by Mr. Apron on the Eve of Hearthswarming. Smiling, Dawn wondered if she could set a watch by the consistency.
Save for journeying out, there was a merchant for everything in this town. Mr. Apron was the man to go to if one ever decided to leave, and it was rare that anyone did. Over his many years he's made many a fine map of the valley, and met many a fine fillies and stallions dreaming of crossing over. Being a proprietor of an inn here has the tendency to draw certain sorts. Dawn even remembered a stallion she met just last week. His name was Gruff Nettle.
He came at about lunch time, a stalwart young fellow. He was in deep thought, that much was obvious, with the way he looked at the valley and all through the window. It was a deep stare, like he was looking through not just buildings, but yonder mountains too. Not wanting to disturb him any more than necessary, Dawn made to place some asparagus stew in front of him and leave. It seemed enough to shake him from his stupor, "wait," he said quietly. "Do you have a moment?"
Glancing around the inn, they weren't too busy as the bulk of the crowd was between meals. She figured she had a few minutes then it hit her, Dawn shook her head and sat down. She'd known now what that look was because she'd worn it on her face before.
He thought for a minute before speaking. "I need help" he said sounding confused. "I don't know where I am, I don't think. Where are we?"
Now sometimes when crossing over, people are fine. They know who they are and thought themselves on a trip of some sort, then getting lost, they end up here. However some aren't so lucky. Gruff Nettle here is what we call a lost soul. Mind you, not actually lost or dead or any of that matter. He's simply forgotten a bit too much, and needs a little nudge.
"I understand what you're going through here now --" She paused "Now what's your name?"
"Gruff Nettle," he said after a small pause.
"Now Gruff, your in what we call The Valley. I don't know how you got here. Heck, I don't know how I got here. This is where we're at though. It's a nice place, we got some food for you here. Do you have any bits for the meal? If not that's okay."
"Uh, yeah, yes I have bits. I have a few here I think" he said while reach for his saddlebag
"Hey now don't worry about that right now, you got more than most coming over the ridge. So here's what were gonna do. Were gonna get you a job in town, you can stay here until you get a place built. It's gonna be okay, alright?"
He seemed a bit more confused, even fluffing up his wings a little. "Yeah, but I need to get home?" he said sounding uncertain
"Sweetie you need to hang tight for a moment. Home is here now, you understand?"
