(Extra A/N: I’ve marked some of the more mature content in this chapter. I’m not sure it fully meets the criteria for ‘NSFW’ given how I portray it, but better safe than sorry in case one wishes to skip it.)
Warning: there will be a few instances of potty training in the next few chapters. Every foal has to figure it out.

"...F'rgive Us of Our transgressions; We lost thy lovingkindness, and the wound bleedeth forth fromst Our essence..."

As soon as it looked like she was inviting me to stay by the warmth of her smile, I ran-hopped all over the house to make sure it's a secure location. One front door, a fire escape, and a few windows. I can't tell what story we're on, because I cannot reach up to the window sill -let alone to see over it. Seems safe enough. Thank you, Harmony, for providing me shelter and a source of food -however temporary it may be. At least, I don't think a milkmare would keep me here without feeding me something without some degree of regularity.

It's not an exceptionally big apartment -I think- but it's way better than that warm pile I was in the other night. There's a kitchen with a dining room, sitting or living room, toilet washroom combination, and two bedrooms.

One of the rooms is sparsely furnished while the other seems to be the milkmare's bedroom. Most of the furnishings throughout seem strangely designed in my opinion: everything is wider than I'd expect -even the architecture- and the furniture is low to the floors.

The couch, for example, doesn’t really have a big back to it. It’s mostly a big flat surface only slightly elevated off the ground -not dissimilar from those benches on the boardwalk by the beach. I think I’d have an easier time climbing onto this couch, though.

I suppose that makes sense given how us equines are designed; I cannot imagine we would often keep our spines vertical while supporting our body weight the way a biped might when sitting or standing, and some more space is needed to turn or pivot. Is that what I used to be? A biped? Hm~

I haven’t seen any stairs yet. I wonder how steep ponies can descend. I seem to recall that being an issue for equines Before.

The milkmare's room has some extra items in it: what functionally looks like a crib and some paraphernalia I'd guess would belong to a young child or infant. But I found no trace of another foal living here or that any of these items have been used, and she does not appear to be in any hurry to go fetch it if it's being babysat -no- foalsat. There are only so many reasons a mare would have all these things without that important centerpiece to the collection.

Harmony, what are you doing here with me and this mare? I can't stay anywhere for too long; and if she's experienced loss, then me leaving at any point -even right now- would be…

Sounds like a bath is being drawn. She didn't smell bad to me, but she did just get off her shift -I'm guessing. I've no idea how long is the average pony's workday. Maybe I'll get a- wait. Oh! Oh~ no: my horn. She can't find it. I still haven't figured out where or when I am.

Harmony, what do I- hey, look at that. Blocks. Foals' toys. Some sides have colors and the others have... what are those? Are those letters or numbers? Is this what the Equestrian language looks like? Oh~

Sh!t.

In. Out. Okay, okay.
In. Out.
This will be tough… but salvageable.

This cannot be a total loss. I am a foal after all. I should have somepony or several someponies helping me figure this out -at least in the beginning.

Hopefully I'll be able to pick up some of the more nebulous concepts through context after I get a vocabulary base established… without needing some Rosetta Stone to- woah!

Ah~ oh, she's got me by the scruff again. That's not fair. You d@mn blocks distracted me! I was supposed to be figuring out your secrets. I'll get you for this, Blocks, and your little dog, too! And I'll figure out your riddles. Mark my wo~rds!

She sets me down in the warm water gently. That was nice of her. I guess I get First Bath today: the bath of honor for which the tub is at its cleanest. Her coat has an applesaucey-type of color with what might be an undercoat of light yellow making something of an underglow, but her face has something of a greenish tinge to it right now. That wasn't there before. Huh.

After some -what looks like- dry heaves, sputters, and full-body shudders, she goes for some oral hygiene-looking products and tools. One of them is definitely mouthwash given the way she's gargling the liquid... unless she's drinking it? Is she a drunk? I mean... it's possible, I guess. She’s definitely not normal.

No normal pony would take -what is essentially- a homeless foal in off the street after that foal stole from her. Right? That makes her a good lady… Right?

Maybe she's just not used to carrying foals by their scruff in her mouth. Or a germaphobe? Place didn't look or smell sterilized. I don't think I would ascribe the practice of 'mouth carry' to myself as an instinctual act, but it seems to be her go-to pickup style.

Oh, well.

Not everyone is a natural with the parenting skills, after all. She'll get better at it if I stick around, I guess. Practice will make us both a little more perfect of a pair, after all.

But I don’t think I can fault her for keeping her mouth sanitary. I should put that skill on my to-do list.

While the milkmare is distracted with all that, I can wash myself! Yeah. That way she won't end up messing with my head and accidentally discovering my horn and inadvertently causing a cascade of events leading to war. Good job, Brain. You get a gold star for that one.
Don’t you dare blame me for any of this.
Splashing and rolling is pretty fun! You should try it.
Ugh.

Just have to get all wet first. Hold your breath. Head under. Soak the mane. Surface and exhale. Don't forget my wings. Might as well roll around and get the full experience.

Really! Just let the cleaning wash all over. I'm rather glad that it appears that hydrogen and oxygen combine and seem to behave the same way on this world as it did from Before. I wonder what other similarities there are to discover.

Now for you, Tail. Get over here- no. Over here- no. Stop, you. Come on. In. The. Water. Shh, shh, shh~ that's right. Don't fight it. Just let it happen. Embrace the sweet embrace of Bath Time at my hooves, Tail… hyoo~vz… dang, you got heavy.

I am really good at this! Master bath-taker right here.

That sound. She's standing there watching with a forehoof in front of her mouth. Giggling? Is she giggling at me? I haven't heard that noise come from a pony yet. It's really nice.

... Is it still hidden in my mane? I think so. I'm not sure what that expression she's making means, but she's smiling gently; and the green tinge is gone -replaced with a little bit of pink. I guess that's better than before, so it's fine.

She comes up to the tub and seems to inspect the whole area with a different expression that I cannot interpret. She pulls the plug in the drain, and then turns on the shower head. It drizzles gently as the tup starts to empty.

She says, "Jraigh ie ay pbubv-edh," while motioning with her eyes and hoof toward the water cascading down from above.

Oh, does she want me to rinse? Of course, I can do that, lady. Now seems like a good time for my best Don the Mallard impression.

The look on her face right now. That's priceless!

Hmm~ I'm going to need a name for you, milkmare. How do pony names work? In the languages I think I remember, names were not usually associated with standard noun or verb conventions. They don't typically convert from one language to another very well at all; so, they're often left as-is when translating. The pony names I know about Equestria from Before were always somewhat strange in my native languages: Flurry Heart, Applejack, Luna, etc.

They're usually specific to that pony's talent and rarely unrelated to it.

I wonder if it is a phenomenon of Equestrian culture or if there is a linguistic explanation for it. Some cultures I knew of made names by combining letters or characters of their languages in different ways rather than using traditional names within a family, area, or culture. From what I saw on those blocks, there could be something to that by reusing the letters of the parents' names in the offspring somehow.

Or maybe Harmony has something to add to the process, because Cutie Marks exist here. Therefore, it could be that Destiny or some variation of 'predestination' has more influential properties in this magical world. Ponies could be named any random thing if Cutie Mark magic did not have some correlation to names.

'Milkmare' could legitimately be her name for all I know.

Cutie Marks... that's right: they often reflect something relating to a pony's name. Excluding exceptions, there must be some magics concomitant with a pony's name and their Cutie Mark. Unless that's just a misconception caused by self-fulfilling prophecy?

Now I'm more curious about my name. If I gave myself a name from within my thought-language and somepony gives me a different name in pony-language, then which would my Cutie Mark reflect? Is the mark fixed to one or the other regardless of which name?

If I refuse a name of any kind, what would my mark be?

...Probably a depiction of obstinance, hehe, like a pony with its head up its own backside, hahaha. *sigh* Harmony, please don't do me like that.

The water stops, and she looks amused. She seems to be a rather positive pony. That's nice; though, I guess that could normal for the pony culture -as I assume it. That, or she tells herself jokes on the regular.

How would a nebulous concept as humor be depicted as a Cutie Mark? I imagine that could be nearly anything so long as the pony who owns it thinks it's funny. What is -ah, the water dripping- my coat tickles... I can't... Ah~ Shake! Shake it off!

You can't tickle me if you're not on me anymore. *sigh* Ah~ that's better. Aren't you proud of me, milkmare? The water dripping in my coat was tickling me something fierce, and I got it off...

How'd your face get soaked? There's a towel here on the edge of the tub. Here you go; you can use it.

She accepts it.

She reaches for another towel with some mumbles that I cannot decipher, and... there are a lot of fruit around here. Some are sewn into the towels, there are some on the mat by the tub, lots of fruit shaped toiletry products -mostly apples and pears but some others as well.

Apple and pears? Wait... Could she be related to the one of those clans? I don't think I've ever heard of anypony being so obsessed with either of those fruits and not being a part of one of those enormous families.

This... this whole hiding my horn thing could get real complicated really fast.
In. Out.
In. Out.
Okay. Don't panic yet. I don't even know if she's one of them. She could just happen to have lots of fruit-themed products, and her actual name might be more related to being a milkmare…

Or maybe she is an Apple or a Pear and just so happens to be a pariah -a cast-out black sheep that nopony talks to or about anymore... I mean, it's not impossible considering she's willing to take a strange street-foal home and not immediately turning me into the authorities. Right?
In.
Out.

...Or maybe she's really plugged in to either family and my presence here derails the births of Applejack or Babs Seed… or I don’t know, Braeburn, maybe?... well, actually that one might -no! That’s still bad!

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Merciful Harmony, did I already prevent somepony’s birth? Is that like murder? What have I don- oh, how did I get out of the tub?

What feels so nice? Are you helping me dry off, lady? You've been so nice to me. I really appreciate it. Ooh~ so that's what cats feel like when you pet their lower backs and their butts go up in the air. D@mn, I can get used to that.

Okay you can- nope! Gimme that. Stop. Stop! I will dry my mane. By myself! That's for me. I'm sorry, but you're not allowed. Don't look at me like that. I have good reasons, milkmare. Don't judge me. They're good reasons!

*sigh*

There. Thank you for the towel and helping with the other stuff, though. I think I can get a pompadour-style when my mane gets longer.

Oh, is that a pony toilet? I could use one right about now. Huh… That's an odd shape. How do I aim for something like this with the tools that I have? Maybe if I stood on my forehooves and put my hind legs high up on the wall there? That's not very practical if that's the correct way it's done...

I think that potted plant in the corner of the bathroom would facilitate my male-ways better. The room is too close together for my masterful ‘bipedal super-arc technique.’ This'll be a good chance to try that ‘one-leg-raised dog-style.’

I'm the best at this.

"Sheh? Chzk-k!" My world starts to spin, but there was no way to stop what I'd started. When I stopped spinning, she held me almost upside down over the porcelain.

Huh. I guess I was right about that 'standing on my forehooves' theory. Who'd have guessed that was the right way to do it? Not me, apparently.

Master bath-taker. Absolute noob with Equestrian toilets. Well, I'll get it next time.

After I finish, she sets me down, and she's dripping again. How do you keep doing that, lady? You must be the company cut-up over at the milk-office. Is that what it would be called: milk-office? I don't imagine it's a barn or factory.

Can't even fathom what those holiday parties are like... udderly ridiculous that’s- ow! What was that?

Anyway, this towel should still be good. Here you go, lady. I think I'm going to go check out those blocks again. *gurgle* Quiet, Tummy, I want to solve the mysteries of Language now! Once I master communication, then I’ll ask about dinner… or whatever meal time it is.

I walk to the room with the block toys at a leisurely pace. Before I arrive, I get picked up again by the scruff. I guess the milkmare has some other activity scheduled. She brings me over to the sitting room, sets me down, and then lays on her side while looking at me with some features that I don't exactly know how to read.

Her expressions go from somewhat hopeful, desirous, and then worried.

Um~ okay... Are you tired, lady? You have a nice living room here -the nicest sitting room in this world I've ever seen, actually. It's also the only one I've ever seen. Maybe we'll get those learning materials out here later, if this is where we'll be spending most of our house time. *gurgle* Hm~ might need to start addressing this tummy situation.

I'd consider foraging, but that's not usually something you do inside someone's -no- somepony's house while you're their guest... I'm going to assume it's rude to pilfer through somepony's rubbish bin for snacks from within their house... while you're there...

...or generally anytime, I guess...

She motions with her eyes down towards her... what would that be called? Hind leg knee area? Gaskin? Stifle? How do I know those words? Her expression seems to change slightly. Perhaps her worry is increasing?

"Nhrae hyaiy?" With a forehoof, she points to her belly and motions with her eyes as well. Belly? Ponies are herbivores. Right? I don't think she's telling me to get in her belly, so what- wait. Oh! Oh. Oh~ she's pointing at… tho~se.

What! Is she asking me to... No~ No, she couldn't be. Could she? The milkmare nods and taps towards her belly again -probably in response to my looking from her face to there over and over. I guess there's only one way to test this out for sure.

I scoot towards her a bit and try to gauge her reaction. That look of worry on her face starts to melt away into what I'd guess is... encouragement? But there is a touch of something else mixed in. It looks positive, anyway. So, I get a little closer -almost creeping towards them.

Her eyes seem to sparkle as I look to her again, and she nods. "Mreb rheheh," she says and spreads a bit. Wow, this lady is serious right now.

*gurgle* Ugh, I am hungry. *sigh* Okay, but if I'm interpreting all of this wrong, then I do not want to get slapped for this. Got that?

Feels like my teeth are chattering. That’s weird, right?

Geeze. Why am I so nervous right now? This is Survival for Infants 101. Basics. I just- just need to treat this with some professionalism. That’s all. Nothing more than that.

She gently nudges me with her nose closer to the area. *sigh* Her breath is calming, and my teeth quiet. Okay. Guess I can’t really avoid this. Nothing left to it but to do it.

**Incoming scene with some materials one may classify as: NSFW.**

Never did I ever think I’d consider a bottle to be more masculine than I do right now.

Okay. I just have to focus on anything else. I can probably -hm- tastes almost like the stuff from the bottle I 'requisitioned' previously. Body temperature somehow changes it slightly from the cart products. I think I like that juice better, but I can’t deny this agrees. Maybe that's my equine taste buds or maybe foals interpret flavors differently than adults? I wonder if this mare helped produce the stuff I stole earlier. I guess that could make sense.

I think there were two types in the cart back then, but I wasn’t paying particular attention to labels at the time.

The mare lets out what I would call a sigh of contentment and lays all the way down on her side. She angled her head a bit to have an eye on me. Probably to make sure I follow the rules for this; although, I don’t know what those might be.

I like the smile she has. It’s content -even her tail is slowly wagging -oh- I think mine is, too. Neat. So far, Tail has been a pretty solid judge of things.

I seem to remember from the world I came from that bovines required milking maybe twice a day and would become agitated when it was time -or past time. I wonder if this lady was getting uncomfortable. I hope she wasn't in any pain. I probably destroyed her schedule for today, too.

I don't really know how to apologize for that without knowing her language better. I should still try to thank her for everything she's done for me today -starting with this belly bounty.

Not sure if both spigots are hooked up to a shared source. Might as well switch just in case. Wouldn’t be polite if I inadvertently cause her to start leaning over to one side.

Do these equines release a bonding hormone during this process? Or maybe that is only at a specific time post-birthing? How long has she been bagged up?

I suppose this is probably good for my immune system, too...

She seems to have relaxed quite a bit. That's a nice bonus. The milkmare seems like she was getting wound up back there in the bathroom.

My amazing new pony bathroom skills must have been a glorious sight to behold. Perhaps they'll write textbooks on my mastery for future generations!

Getting tired all of a sudden. What's up with that? I think these are about empty -not like there's a gauge to read. Even if there was, I doubt I could read it.

Is there something I'm supposed to do to signal when I'm finished? I'm pretty sure it was considered in poor taste -at the very least- to stare at such activities where I came from; so, I really don't know if there are any concluding rituals to perform here that would cue my finale.

Not sure if ponies derive much pleasure from this area. Regardless, I do not think she'd appreciate any attempt of gratitude of that nature from me given how young I'm supposed to be. Taps with a hoof could be unpleasant.

Not sure I’m even capable of that behavior at this age, but the last thing I need is to develop a reputation as a randy baby. So, an appreciative massage or a reach-around is off the table.

There aren't any napkins around for me to extend the courtesy of cleaning up after myself at this time. Milk-breath kisses seem like a less-than-ideal gesture, but I really do want to express my appreciation for her willingness to be so nice to me by helping me survive another day.

I don’t think her offer is the standard gesture one does for just any pony off the street, after all. So, I ought to do something.

There must be some sort of etiquette to express how thankful I am to conclude this feast, but what can- oh! I got it.

"B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b."

**End of NSFW Scene.**

Yeah, that did it. She raised her head quickly and looks like she's thinking about something intensely -probably contemplating my gratitude- with pursed lips, a contemplatively furrowed brow, and a few glances my way; but her face also has some more of that pink-rosy coloring to it. Is that blush?

Blushing must mean she's super stoked -thrilled by my gratitude. How do ponies blush with fur anyway? *yawn* Aw, cursed milk drunk... sleepy times... baby body...

...I shall take a part of you, and you will wander until the appointed time as folly-fallen...

Author's Note

Colt got a bath, a meal, and went to sleep. Classic 'slice of life' types of stuff.

Author's notes got long again, so I put them in a Blog Post. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

**Edit: Oh! I forgot. Any ideas for a name for the colt? I was thinking something nature-related and maybe whimsical…**