Ruffled Feathers

Lifting her foreleg, Sapphire gently pressed the back of her hoof to Nimbus’ forehead. “Are you sure you’re ok? There’s a clinic in town that -”

“I’m fine,” Nimbus softly insisted, taking her foreleg and guiding it back down to the floor. “Just a little under the weather, that’s all.”

Sapphire studied him for a moment as she lingered on the just outside the front door of her home. “Don’t push yourself ~ alright? If you’re not feeling up to it, I’ll pick up those groceries later.”

Smiling down at her, he leaned in and delicately kissed her cheek. “Seriously, don’t worry so much. Between the map, list, and bits you left me, I’ll handle it. I might have a few wires crossed, but I’m not that broken.”

It was a hard act to put on, and it was made all the more difficult by being mindful of his tone and body language, but he managed to pull it off - at least he was pretty sure he pulled it off well. Extending his foreleg and offering her a bagged lunch that had taken him far too much effort to prepare, he willed himself to smile just a bit harder. While he could tell that something was on her mind, he kept his hooves crossed that she wasn’t able to see through his subtle deception.

“Go on,” he softly urged, “I’d hate for my special little mare to be late for her shift.”

The slight flattery worked like a charm. She averted her gaze and blushed as the corners of her lips turned up. Though he didn’t enjoy lying, he didn’t have many other options - not until he was able to sort through the litany of questions and problems stacked against him.

She reluctantly turned, stepped onto the sidewalk, and glanced back at him. “See you soon…”

“Be safe,” he shouted, waving goodbye.

As she waved back, her expression faltered. “You too…”

He lingered there for well over a minute and waited until she’d turned the corner at the end of the block before stepping back into the foyer. The moment he swung the door closed, his shoulders went slack and he gave a heavy sigh. Most of the day prior, everything after Sapphire had brought him home and explained how she’d made him, was a jumbled blur. He couldn’t say exactly when it had happened, but he’d come to a conclusion - this wasn’t a dream.

Whether he was in a coma or in some utterly bizarre afterlife, he’d become convinced that he wasn’t asleep - not any natural sort of sleep anyways. The clarity of his actions, the richness of the world around him, and how unique Sapphire and the hoofful of ponies he’d crossed paths with were beyond what one’s imagination could conjure. This world, this Equestria, it was as real as the Earth he’d grown up on, and that realization terrified him.

He was a stranger in a strange land, displaced from his home and everything he’d ever known, and he was alone. The desire to understand his surroundings and the intricacies of his reality were still there - actually, they were stronger than ever, yet now they were motivated by a stark need. With nopony to turn to, no place to call his own, and being ignorant to the society he suddenly found himself in, he had to adapt, if only for the time being, or his situation could become much, much more complicated.

While Sapphire didn’t strike him as a bad mare in the slightest, he wouldn’t - couldn’t afford to gamble his well-being on his intuition alone. Supposing she’d been truthful about the spell she’d cast, regardless of if it hadn't worked quite as she’d expected it to, there would be nothing stopping her from kicking him out of her house or even attempting to reverse the sorcery that had brought him to her. Considering she seemed convinced that she’d made him, crafting him from stardust or whatever the heck unicorn magic utilized, he’d really rather not tempt fate and have her inadvertently atomize him or reduce him to a pool of primordial soup.

Closing his eyes, he lightly tapped his forehead against the door. To say the circumstances were frustrating would be an understatement of colossal proportions. He was a pegasus who couldn’t fly, he had all the worldly know-how of a child, and there were forces at play that defied all conventional wisdom - to put it succinctly, he was up the creek without a paddle. Until he had a firm grasp of exactly what had happened to him, he needed to play nice, bide his time, and hope he didn’t screw up badly enough for Sapphire to magically fix him.

“There’s got to be a way back,” he muttered.

The words sounded hollow, like he was trying to convince himself they were true, but they were all he had. Turning and pacing in the foyer, he poured over everything he’d been through in the last two days for the umpteenth time. He would have given virtually anything for answers - answers which didn’t sound completely insane, though there was no guarantee he’d ever receive them. He stopped when he recalled what he was supposed to be doing and meandered back into the kitchen.

Dealing with his bewildering state of affairs would have been arduous enough, but he was exhausted. Though he’d initially curled up with Sapphire the night before, he’d ultimately crept out of her room, made his way to her den, and cast himself onto her sofa. Sleeping with her, even if it didn’t involve anything particularly intimate, felt wrong. Sharing your bed was reserved for somepony special, somepony you cared about, and he hardly knew her, let alone had feelings for her.

Coming to a halt before her table, he peered down at the items she’d left for him. Along with a small coin purse of bits tucked in a satchel, a crude map with directions to a nearby grocery store, and a list of provisions he was supposed to purchase, there was something else - something she must have scribbled down when he hadn’t been paying attention. He leaned in and felt his heart sink as he read the hoofwritten words.

Nimby,

If you get lost, just ask somepony to show you to the library (that’s where I work). There should be more than enough bits to cover all the groceries, so feel free to get yourself a little snack. I hope you feel better.

Miss you already,

S

Her feelings for him only served to complicate matters and worsen his inner turmoil. She’d apparently gone to great lengths to craft him, alluding to even stealing the tome that held the spell she’d used to bring him to her, and even a confounded idiot could figure out she’d done so seeking companionship. Why she’d resorted to questionable, possibly even taboo sorcery to give herself a coltfriend was a mystery in and of itself, yet he felt a pang of sympathy for her.

Tearing his eyes off her note, he knit his brow. This wasn’t the time to ponder her machinations and how lonely she was - this was the time to act. Her shift was only going to last seven hours, which meant he could, once he was finished with his errand, do what he pleased until she returned home.

After clumsily pulling the satchel to the table’s edge and slipping it over his neck, he glanced back at his wings and snorted. Maybe it was foolish, but gaining full control of his body sat high on his list of priorities. The way he saw it, irrespective of if everything ended up going pear-shaped or not, being able to fly would give him an advantage in practically any unfortunate situation - that and the notion of soaring through the open sky was wildly inspirational.

His feathered appendages, though unruly and vexing, seemed both large and sturdy enough to be fully functional. Sapphire had displayed feats of magic - real magic, so it was only logical that his wings were for more than just show. As he grew distracted by the insubordinate limbs affixed to his back and just behind his shoulder blades, a yawn escaped him.

He shook his head to collect himself, keenly aware that the shellshock and lethargy was taking a toll on him. “Eggs, barley, carrots, apples, spaghetti, cheese…”

The list was his mantra, a way to help him focus until he had completed his task. Trotting to the front door, which Sapphire had begrudgingly asked a neighbor to repair, he froze when he caught sight of himself in the window. Instead of a human face staring back at him, a stallion held his gaze - a bewildered, naked stallion.

“Nope,” he grunted, dipping his head and shrugging the shoulder bag from around his neck. “No way, no how.”

While none of the ponies he’d encountered the day before were wearing much of anything, excluding the reflector vests and hardhats of the construction crew, he was not about to go prancing about in his birthday suit - especially now that he contended with the possibility that he wasn’t in some grand fantasy. First and foremost, one couldn’t simply dismiss a lifetime’s worth of modesty - secondly and just as prudently, no matter what Equestria’s societal norms were, he’d been shamelessly hit on the very first time he’d gone out of Sapphire’s home. Had he been completely, undeniably certain that he was within the confines of his own head, he would have gleefully strutted out in the buff - unfortunately for him and any other shameless mares who may drool over him, he wasn’t going to hedge his bets on that.

Scampering deeper into the house, he skidded to a halt outside the central bathroom. It had been ages since he’d done it, and he was struggling to remember all the steps involved, but he felt confident that he could fashion a toga for himself out of a bed sheet. His eyes played over the toiletries and neatly folded towels for a moment before he found what he was looking for.

“Here we - crab apples,” he cursed, lifting a forehoof and coming just shy of reaching what looked like a stack of sheets.

Hearing himself speak, he scrunched his snout in indignation. There were a litany of strange things about being a pegasus, ranging from how sharp his senses were to the jaw-dropping discovery that oats tasted amazing, yet there was one so subtle that he’d only just started to take notice of it. As he tried fruitlessly to think of naughty language, his irritation mounted.

Expletives, much like his real name, were things his odyssey had robbed from him. Try as he might, he wouldn’t - couldn’t swear. The words simply didn’t exist anymore, eluding him whenever he attempted to conceive them, but he wasn’t left completely unarmed. Nearly losing balance when he reared onto his hind legs, he unleashed his frustration.

“Darn it,” he shouted. “Stupid heckin’ useless wings!”

And there it was, his comedic, kid-friendly wrath in all its fury. Honestly, of all the weird stuff he was going through, the altered vocabulary was amongst the most bizarre. He knew good and gosh darn well that there were particularly bad words to express exasperation and nasty insults which weren’t suitable for children, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember any of them! With the thin blanket taunting him, just out of reach, he hopped up, snatched the sheet from its shelf, and unsteadily landed back on the ground.

He peeked at his back and grinned. “Thanks…”

The feathery appendages had actually flapped and prevented him from losing his balance. He still had no overt control of his wings, but they’d helped him out a hoofful of times; they’d move of their own accord, usually without any conscious thought whatsoever. While it was infuriating to have a part of him that didn’t obey his will, he tried to be patient with himself and his clumsy body.

Pondering the enigma of how to master an entirely new set of limbs actually was on his agenda, but not until he’d tended to his obligations. The quicker he was done with his chore, the sooner he’d be able to go into the relative seclusion of Sapphire’s backyard and make an ass of himself while attempting to fly.

Trotting into the guest bathroom, he threw one corner of the sheet over his shoulder and pulled it down his back. Togas were one of the simplest garments in existence, just a large piece of cloth wound around one’s self, so it couldn’t be that difficult to pull one off while one was a quadruped - or so he assumed. Minutes dragged by as his patience wore out, but his perseverance eventually basically won out. A pyrrhic victory at best, too loose in some areas while a bit stifling in others, his completed attire was far from perfect - be that as it may, he considered it success.

The fabric draped over him obscured anypony’s view of naughty bits and tush, and he thought he looked rather fetching in it. Squaring his shoulders, he brushed his mane back and struck a dramatic pose. While he’d had to improvise a bit, cinching the cloth around his neck and under his forelegs to keep his wings pinned, he didn’t think he looked half bad. So long as his wings behaved themselves and didn’t try to escape, everything would be fine.

He quickly returned to the entryway, stooped down, bit the handle of his shoulder bag and tossed it over his head. The store wasn’t far away, a short trot according to the map, and he only had a few things to pick up - all in all, it should be a brief and simple excursion. Seeing himself out and carefully closing the door behind himself, he took a breath of the cool, fresh air.

There were only a few things that could potentially go wrong, like actually picking up the items and figuring out how to push a cart, although that wasn’t nearly enough to deter him - plus he had the forethought to avoid a certain area. With no way of knowing if the lustful, pushy mare was working or not, and without the ability to sail over her head, the smartest course of action would be to take the scenic route to the shop. He set off at a decent pace, filled with as much cautious optimism as he could muster, and held his head high.

The day was gorgeous, the cloudless sky warmed by the sun overhead, and there was a faint breeze. As the wind danced over his fur and plumage, a trace of his concerns were carried away. In defiance of his various fears and the hindrances of his plight, he smiled. A great many things in his life had been out of his control, giving him all the more reason to take solace if and when he could.

He hesitated to say he’d had the best family, finding them a burden more often than a gift, although the words of an uncle, one he’d been particularly fond of as a child, rang truer than ever - ‘if you’re not laughing, you’re crying’. It was true, truer than he’d like to admit. Everything about this was funny, from how he thought of himself as Nimbus Breeze the pegasus to having bedded a unicorn, and it brought him a rueful chuckle.

Silver linings - he had to focus on the silver linings. Sanity and mortal status notwithstanding, he had a few things to be grateful for. The land he’d been flung to had different rules, having sorcery and creatures that had been nothing more than myths on earth, and in time he may even be capable of conquering the skies - plus he had gotten laid. Were things ideal? Heavens no, but they could definitely have been worse. He had shelter, sustenance, and somepony to talk to, things that some unfortunate souls lacked, and he was, at least in part, thankful for them.

Slowing as he approached an intersection, he peered over and spotted his destination. The building was unmistakably a shop, replete with an old-timey sign hanging above its open, welcoming doors, and there were a small number of ponies coming and going - including one that rocketed down from above, elegantly landed, and trotted inside without skipping a beat. He blinked, taken aback by the sight, and continued onward with a spring in his step.

Though he hadn’t seen the pegasus performing any aeronautical procedures, merely landing and breaking into a trot, the sight of another winged pony instantly bolstered his resolve and lifted his spirits. It wasn’t a matter of if he could fly, but how long it would take him to work out how to do it. Trotting across the street and up to the shop, he saw himself inside and inspected his surroundings.

While it was a bit antiquated compared to what he was used to on Earth, the grocery store was very much a supermarket. Roughly a dozen aisles dominated the cavernous interior, with helpful signs displaying where items could be found, and there were a pair of registers flanking the door. There was a lot to take in, ranging from unfamiliar advertisements on the walls to the products lining the shelves, yet it wasn’t the goods which caught his eye - it was the ponies.

There were at least three little equines shopping, and another two milling around by the checkout counters. Varying wildly in their coloration and species, but similar in size and proportions, each of the creatures were unique. Two unicorns, the pegasus he’d spotted, and two of the normal ponies - earth ponies, Sapphire had called them, and several gradually turned their eyes to him.

He bashfully waved a hoof, shifted to a tower of baskets by the entrance, and did his best not to make himself the center of attention. The last thing he needed was for ponies to think he was a newcomer and a loon - sadly, it was unavoidable. Ignoring the curious looks, he closed his jaws on one of the baskets, turned, and proceeded past the cashiers and down the closest aisle.

Eggs, barley, carrots…crud. Stopping in his tracks, he lowered and shook his head. The satchel slipped down his neck, over his face, and came to hang on the basket in his mouth. He’d gotten a bit better with his hooves, being able to perform the most menial tasks with some effort, but he still couldn’t comprehend how ponies were able to hold, much less manipulate things with an oversized, keratinous thumb! As he set his belongings down and began rummaging around for his list, the sound of hooves approached from behind him.

“Need some help there, sir?” a lilting voice inquired.

He shook his head and looked back. “No, I…”

The words died in his throat when he got a look at whom he was speaking to. Tall, slender, and with a luscious, flowing mane, the unicorn mare was the embodiment of an equine model. Her honey-colored coat, cerulean eyes, and sandy mane and tail were pleasant, but her figure - mercy, her figure was very appealing. Completely at a loss, he straightened and turned to face her. He told himself that he was just being polite, yet her gorgeous body and lustrous eyes sang to the most primitive parts of his brain.

“N…no,” he stammered, finally finding his voice.

Her eyes wandered over him, like they were appraising him, until they settled on his face. “Cute outfit.”

He glanced back at himself, having briefly forgotten that he was adorned in a bed sheet, and nervously chuckled. “T…thanks.”

“It’s a toga ~ right?” she postulated, inching closer.

“Yeah,” he sighed. Anxiously extending a partially-shrouded foreleg, he grinned. “I’m Nimbus.”

“Iridescent,” she demurely replied as she took and gently shook his proffered hoof, “but my friends call me Iri.”

Placing his hoof back on the ground once she’d released it, he shifted his weight. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Iridescent.”

Another weird name to add to the growing list, although it was fitting for her. Standing at practically the same height as himself, if only a hair shorter, her stature alone put her apart from the other mares he’d met. Peering into her eyes for a fleeting second, he looked away and donned his satchel.

She giggled and batted a forehoof at him. “Please, you can call me Iri - after all, a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet.”

“R…right,” he mumbled, sensing blood rushing to his face.

Heck - this was bad. He’d only just laid eyes on her, and yet he was staving off intrusive, exquisitely inappropriate thoughts about her. This was his pony brain’s fault - it had to be. Getting a bit worked up by a woman, a hot, human woman chatting with him out of the blue would be a reasonable reaction, but for him to get flustered over a pony - yeah, this had to be due to his metamorphosis.

“So tell me, Nimbus, is there anything I can help you find today?” she sweetly pressed. “I wouldn’t be much of a manager if I didn’t make sure my customers had an enjoyable experience ~ would I?”

Shying back, he stared over at her. “You’re the manager?”

“Sure am,” she hummed as she flipped a bang of hair away from her face. Strutting - strutting by him, she took the note from his hoof and brought it up to her face while hovering his basket from the floor. “Come on, I’ll show you right where everything is.”

While he was appreciative for her help, he wouldn’t be shocked if she was coming onto him - in fact, he was almost certain of it. Gazing at her backside while he trailed behind her, in a delicious and all too poetic twist of fate, he watched as she flicked her tail and gave him a glimpse of her backside. The plump, hairless mound of her marehood was enthralling, exciting him in a way that shouldn’t have been possible, and his body responded the only way it knew how.

He gulped as he sensed his wings twitching and stallionhood slipping from its sheath. It was a darn good thing he’d borrowed the bed sheet to wear, because it would have been painfully obvious to anypony looking at him that he was a bit worked up without it. As he followed her around a corner and down an adjacent aisle, she slowed and magically lifted two items from a shelf.

“There’s the barley and spaghetti,” she noted, spinning and reversing course after depositing the items in his basket. “The cheese is over near the produce.”

“A…alright,” he stammered as she sauntered past him.

Unwittingly drawing a breath through his nose, he shivered. The scent of her natural bouquet and perfume was like a siren’s song that compounded his mounting arousal. She smelled good, she looked good, and her voice was like that of an angel, so he had to imagine she felt…

He clamped his eyes shut and set his jaw. No - not now, not ever, he would not start swooning over some random mare he’d only just known existed. His eyes stayed on her hooves while she led the way to the opposite side of the shop. It wasn’t until he detected the vivid aroma of fruits and vegetables that he found the courage to lift head.

With one forehoof resting on the bottom lip of a display, Iri stretched a foreleg up to the top of a stack of carrots. “I’m guessing you’ve got a big one?”

“Huh?” he grunted, doing a double take.

“Want,” she corrected as her eyes lingered above the fabric draped over his loins. “You want a big one?”

Dumbfounded, he instinctively looked at her rear as she adjusted her stance. He’d gotten a decent view of her goods while she’d brought him to the pasta and grains aisle, yet the eyeful he’d received paled in comparison to the display she put on. Her hind hooves rested slightly wider apart than her hips, her tail was flagged and held to one side, and her bare, moist marehood winked at him.

He peered at her nethers in a trance, utterly enslaved by his id. There was no question that she was showing herself off to him, enticing him and playing to his stallionly needs, and it was working - he hated himself for it, but her little game was actually working. Wrestling control of himself while ignoring his fluttering wings, he marched up to her, grabbed the carrot from her forehoof, and stormed off to a miniature pyramid of apple crates.

Immediately giving chase, she dragged her body up his side. “Gonna make your marefriend dessert?”

“No,” he huffed, refusing to cave to her wiles.

“Got a marefriend who’s gonna cook for you ~ eh?” she teased, playfully elbowing his ribs. “Can’t say I blame her. If I had a catch like you, I’d bend over backward to make sure you were satisfied…”

He trembled as she spoke the word. Images of her presenting herself, beckoning him to a rose petal-covered bed, assailed him and made it hard to think clearly. If he gave her the opportunity, what would she do with him - to him? Could she just be a massive flirt with exhibitionistic tendencies? Were all mares like this? Snapped back to reality by the last question that came to his mind, he stiffened.

Cantering back to Iri and clamping the floating basket in his teeth, he fled to the dairy section that was mercifully close by. He needed to leave and leave quickly, lest he attract more admirers from the woodwork. On the off chance that his spontaneous hypothesis was right, that Equestria was a world in which females were the assertive ones, his life was going to be more complicated than it already was - doubly so if he was what most considered a handsome stallion.

He came just shy of galloping to the front of the shop, not wanting to make more of a scene than he already had, and placed his basket of goods on the counter. “Just give me a second to -”

“What’s the rush?” Iri purred, rushing over and shoving the cashier aside. “Got a hot date to -”

“Here,” he interrupted. Withdrawing his head from his satchel and flinging the small sack of coins next to the till, he glared over at her. “This should be enough to cover everything.”

Iri’s expression hardened as she magically loosened the coin purse’s drawstring and withdrew several bits. “Yeah. Let me get you a receipt…”

He knew he’d made her mad, but he couldn’t have cared less. This was her fault, she’d been the one to start flirting with him like a drunken frat girl, and he’d be darned if he was going to feel bad for fending her off. Seeing her frown and fiddle with the register, an antiquated machine by human standards, he squinted when she stooped down.

“Out of paper,” she groused.

The second opportunity to eye her shapely rump hammered away at his resolve. She was hot, he’d give her that, and it wasn’t like she had to try to be provocative. Forcing himself to look out the front door and away from her behind, he impatiently tapped a hoof. The cultural nuances of courtship would be yet another topic he needed to pick Sapphire’s brain about, because there was no way he was going to ask anypony else.

To add insult to injury, shortly after he’d gotten his first look at Iri’s unmentionables, his wings had been acting up fierce. The stupid, feathery limbs hopped and wiggled against him, trying desperately to escape from their cloth confines. It was like his wings were attempting to betray him, both in casting the toga aside and acting as a tell for his arousal, but the knot he’d tied in his attire was managing to hold fast.

Straightening and bagging his purchase, as well as his receipt, Iri nodded over at him. “See you around, hot stuff.”

He snorted in response, took the bag in his muzzle, and stomped to the exit. Just as he crossed the threshold, moving from the hardwood floor to the gravel beyond the door, he misstepped, fell forward, and landed on his chest. Being a klutz and making an ass of himself would have been awkward, but the feeling of a breeze against his belly and groin filled him with dread.

His toga - he’d tripped on his toga, and in so doing given everypony standing at the front of the shop a bawdy and embarrassing display of his endowment and rigid, outstretched wings. Gripped with panic, he seized his groceries in his jaw and bolted. The spectacle couldn’t have lasted more than a second or two, although it was long enough to elicit a throaty, approving grunt from one of the mares at the checkout area.

Abandoning the bed sheet, he virtually flew back to Sapphire’s house, crashed against the front door, and fought to let himself inside. Equestria was a den of wolves, ravenous, lusty predators, and he was the newest item on the menu. He may have been wrong about it - heck, he prayed he was wrong about it, yet the notion that he was in a world where the gender roles had been reversed, something that should have been titillating, was terrifying.

He meandered through the foyer and into the kitchen before stopping to catch his breath. His lungs burned, his heart was racing, and sweat beaded his brow. Safe and relatively secure, unless somepony was peeping in at him through a window, he exhaled and dully plodded to the den. The weariness of his long night, exacerbated by the mountain of information his brain had been processing and the fact that his species had been changed overnight, was crushing and seemed to hit him all at once. As soon as he hauled himself onto the couch, simply hoping to give himself a few minutes to rest, he was asleep.

“Nimbus…”

“Mnnnnn,” he groaned, rolling over and turning away from the noise.

“Wake up!”

He bolted upright and gasped, overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught of the waking world. Standing beside him, looking downright furious, Sapphire presented a small piece of paper. As he rubbed one eye and the note came into focus, apprehension.

Pointing to the receipt with a forehoof, Sapphire snarled. “Who the hay is Iri? That’s not that Iridescent hussy who works at Barnyard Bargains ~ is it?”

To Nimbus’ horror, Iri had apparently scribbled down something on the opposite side of the receipt when he hadn’t been looking. An address and the imprint of two lipstick-adorned lips - an unspoken invitation to give her a visit, and it spelled his doom. Rolling and falling off the sofa, he hastily sat up and held a hoof to his chest.

“I…” he began, feeling his throat constrict.

He couldn’t speak - not because he didn’t want to, but because he could feel something within him break. This was too much - it was all too much. He’d lost everything, and the accusation, intended or not, was the final nail in his coffin. Above the maelstrom of anger, confusion, fear, and sorrow loomed a sense of hopelessness that nopony could ensure.

“Sapphire,” he breathed, “we have to talk.”

“About what?” she demanded, throwing the note to the side. “About how you -”

“You didn’t make me!” he bellowed, causing her to go motionless and wide-eyed. “I’m not a pony - at least, I wasn’t a pony! I’m not even from Equestria! I didn’t ask to come here, I didn’t want to be a pegasus, and I sure as heck didn’t do a darn thing to make that mare at the grocery store try to seduce me! I…I…” he sobbed, his voice cracking and cheeks going damp. “I just want to go home…”

Easing herself down, Sapphire reached over and wiped a tear from his face. “Nimbus…”

“I’m not Nimbus!” he impotently raged, slapping her hoof away.

She shied back, if only just, and met his gaze. “Then who are you then?”

“I…I can’t remember my name, but everything else is still there,” he sniffed.

“Tell me,” she quietly urged. “Help me understand, please…”

Filling his lungs, he gave a slow, shuddering breath. “Alright…”

It was awkward, not knowing where or exactly how to start, but he laid all his cards on the table. His childhood, how he’d stumbled through college, his dead-end job at the convenience store - he talked about them all for what felt like hours on end. She listened silently the entire time, only interjecting to ask for clarification on things that were unfamiliar to her, until he brought up the bizarre sex-toy he’d gotten in the mail.

Sapphire had questioned him extensively on the toy, much to his chagrin, and he’d given her as many details as he could on the thing. While he wasn’t particularly comfortable telling her about how he’d gotten drunk and resorted to using the masturbator, he did so for a good reason. There was only one thing he’d done before all the craziness had kicked off, and it was…

“The toy,” he murmured. “That has to have something to do with this.”

As he looked over at her, Sapphire got to her hooves. “There’s…there’s something I need to look into.”

Without saying another word, she trotted away and down the corridor leading to her room. He glanced to the window and saw the darkness outside as he pushed himself up to follow her. The sun had set some time ago, likely when he’d been taking his unplanned nap, and its absence did nothing to improve his dour mood. Plodding down the hallway, he went to her study, tried the doorknob, and found he’d been locked out.

She hadn’t appeared angry, although it was hard to tell what had been going through her head. Throughout and after his tale, her expression had been unreadable, a mix of concern and wonderment, and her tacit demeanor ran counter to her normal, cheerful self. More uncertain than ever, neither hungry nor wishing to distress Sapphire more than he already had, he trotted to the foyer, opened the door, and stepped out into the night.

Where was he going? What was he supposed to be doing? Should he go check on Sapphire? How was all this going to end? Was all this going to end? Adrift in a sea of disheartening mysteries, he wandered down the sidewalk and into a field at the end of the street. He’d always taken solace that he was the only person he could rely on, viewing that as a strength, but now it felt like a curse.

He finally stopped when he reached a lone oak beneath the cloudless sky. As he made himself as comfortable as he could, with his back against the tree’s trunk and soft grass under his rear, his eyes turned upward. The physical fatigue he’d felt before was dulled to a degree, yet he felt more drained than ever. He was drained, feeling hollow on an existential level, and his sense of powerlessness was palpable.

Even if he could return back to Earth and get his old life back, would he still be the same guy he’d always been - moreover, would he be able to just forget about everything he’d been through? Peering at the firmament above, his eyes were met with constellations and stars that, while similar at a glance, were totally alien. Wrenching his gaze from the heavens, he folded his legs beneath himself and curled up against the tree.

Perhaps all of this would end if he slept a little longer, discovering that this was all a bad dream, but that seemed increasingly unlikely. He had no question that any of Equestia’s denizens would insist they were as real as he was, and therein lay the core of his problem. If this, this reality he’d ended up in, wasn’t real, what was? As he closed his eyes, his wings unfurled and draped themselves over him. Regardless of whether he woke up in his bed or on the earth he was laying on, it didn’t matter - either way, he’d find a way to endure…