“Catch!”

A gift-wrapped box the size of a basketball flew through the air, only to be caught by an earthy brown stallion wearing a brightly coloured party hat. All around them, the cottage had been decorated in celebration of a birthday that would’ve gone unnoticed had it not been for a scarlet and lapis unicorn, the same one who’d almost clunked the birthday boy on the head.

The earth pony in question looked down at his new present with excitement before turning back to his friend.

“Thanks Toybox, but uh…” He’d then turn to look at the table behind him, a home-baked birthday cake with the number thirty-two spelt out as icing sat atop it, surrounded by a hoofful of other presents. “Don’t you think I’m getting a little old for this?”

The party pony only chuckled and smiled. “Oh come on Drill Bit, you're never too old to have fun!”

He looked down at the ribbon wrapped box and contemplated for a moment, but quickly returned to his slightly younger friend. “I guess you're right, still, I think I would’ve preferred to go to a restaurant or something.”

A bulky grey hoof patted his shoulder and Drill Bit turned to see his only other companion. An earth pony with the body of a full time labourer, but the attitude of a stoic. “Later.” He quietly said.

Drill pouted as a tinge of guilt ran through his system. “You sure Steel? I don’t want you shelling out for my sake.”

“My treat. It is your birthday after all.”

“Well…alright, just try not to let your stomach take control again. Remember last time?”

The stallion’s blank frown took on the ghost of a grin, the corners of his mouth raising just enough to be called a smile. For Drill, it was confirmation enough. He knew Steel Beam as somepony who didn’t complain much.

That role was for Toybox.

“Come on, open it already!”

A colt at heart was probably the best way to describe him as he nearly bounced in place, eagerly awaiting the other’s reaction as Drill pried open the present.

Inside was a large, darkly coloured rock in the vague shape of a ball. A rock breaking hammer came with the package but Drill Bit rolled his eyes and smashed a hoof into the stone. His earth pony strength came into effect as the geode split in two, and all three were presented with the gleaming of purple crystalline light.

Drill even seemed to smile at it. “An amethyst geode? How nice.”

“Yep! Can you guess where it’s from?”

“Volcanic basalt exterior…I’m gonna say Badlands.”

“Yesarony! Would’ve probably been dragon food otherwise.”

Drill turned around to open another present, which held similar contents. This time when he broke open the geode, it contained crystals with a dazzling array of different colours, all changing as he switched around the angles.

Steel Beam raised an eyebrow and Toybox peered in, oohing and aahing at the display.

However, Drill Bit didn’t seem impressed, more disappointed if anything.

“Titanium quartz with a granite shell, would’ve had to have been treated to get this colour. And there’s parts of the surface that’ve been smoothed out, probably to hide tool marks where it was resealed. Toybox, where did you get this?” He looked up at him.

The unicorn hesitated for a moment, suddenly turning sheepish as he rubbed the temple. “From…Diamidia?”

Drill continued to stare at him, unsatisfied with the response.

“Look I travel a lot, went into a gift shop and remembered your B-day was coming up, I thought you’d like it, being a geologist and all.”

Breathing slowly, Drill glanced between the processed mineral and the pony gifting it. Disdain for the item rising at the back of his mind, yet he kept a lid on it as he answered him. “I’ll admit it does look nice,” he lied. “I’ll put it with the others later, thanks Toybox.”

Toy smiled as Drill set down the fake geode and rose from his chair.

“I’ll be a moment, need some fresh air.”

“Sure thing, want me to sing happy b-day and cut the cake when you come back?”

A stuffled chuckle left the stallion as he faced Toybox. “Now, now, I’m not a colt anymore Toybox, but thanks.”

The unicorn shrugged. “No problem.”

With a turn of the door handle, Drill Bit basked in the warmth of the early afternoon sun. The familiar shapes of cozy wood and thatch cottages surrounding him at every angle.

Hockston wasn’t a big place, not by any means.

A country village not even half the size of Ponyville, but that size meant the town could take in the picturesque landscape around it, all the rolling hills and distaint forests, the bright blue sky and fluffy clouds.

It was a nice place and he couldn’t have asked for a better town to raise him. He took a moment to allow the crisp summer air to breathe through his mane as internally things weren’t going so well.

He briefly scolded himself for being so rude. Toybox was nice, but Drill always had to remind himself he was only half a decade ahead of him, how could he be so childlike all the time? How could he have the energy? They weren’t colts anymore, they were ageing stallions and every day at the quarry drilled that into his head.

Maybe he and Steel Beam had just lost something Toybox still had? A creative spark he refused to let go?

All of those were questions he could understand and answer himself; however, what he couldn’t fathom was how one could find beauty in something fake.

Spending so much time underground had given him an appreciation of nature, not that he was the kind of pony to build a cabin in the woods for it. But between cold greys and darkened caves, occasionally lit up with the glimmers of raw minerals, he preferred the fields emerald grass blades and citrine wheat stalks.

Artificial beauty couldn’t ever replace the real thing, no matter how close it got.

Drill Bit let out a held breath and started walking, five minutes around the block to get his blood flowing, then Toybox could sing to him all he wanted.

He waved to passers by and took in the sights, the smell of freshly baked bread and apple pies managing to waft all the way from Ms. Icing’s bakery. Suddenly that cake became a little more tempting, but he held off as he rounded a few more corners.

He’d almost completed his circuit when he saw something.

Perched atop a roof, looking down at him in the middle of the road, was an owl, in the middle of a busy day.

But what made the image so inexplicably bizarre was that the owl wasn’t flesh and blood, it was mechanical. A copper and bronze body supporting a pair of closed wings resembling an assortment of blades for feathers, large glowing eyes hummed an orange hue and not once did it blink.

Some kind of toy maybe?

Drill glanced between street corners and suddenly found the road surprisingly empty, barren of life in both sight and sound. It then registered that he didn’t hear those familiar sounds, no carts being pulled or ponies chatting with one another, he saw no Pegasi in the skies nor heard the playful cries of kids.

“Wha, where did everypony go?” He muttered, turning around to find the pony he’d just passed no longer present, before returning back to the mechanical owl.

A powerful gust of cold air kicked up and blew through his mane, expecting it to pass he drew his hoof up for cover, only to find it stuck in place as the gale continued to roar.

Shop signs were kicked up, barrels began to overturn and plants flew from their pots atop window sills. The very air around him was sucked of its warmth as roof mounted wind gauges spun out of control.

Yet, all that became trivial as, behind the owl, something crept over the horizon.

Like a black tidal wave it grew, a dense wall of dark, storming thunder climbed higher into the sky.

Drill Bit just stood there, paralysed with shock and horror at what was barreling toward him.

The oncoming storm engulfed both sides of the horizon end to end, blocking out the sun as it hungerly advanced. Drill couldn’t will himself to move, he didn’t know why, shock & awe maybe? It didn’t take long for it to reach the town and when it did, it was like Drill had been swallowed whole.

Immediately, his blood chilled as the storm threatened to freeze him solid. All around him the ground turned to packed ice and snow, any semblance of the previous summer warmth cast aside as only the bitter cold remained.

He was unable to see more than a few metres away and it nearly took all his strength just to maintain his balance, were he a Pegasus in flight he may have just been tossed to the wayside. Only the guiding amber light of the mechanical owl remained and with little other option Drill pushed towards it.

The owl let out a hoot as it flew further into the storm, heedless of the mighty wind that slowed Drill Bit to a crawl.

“Wait!” He cried. “Don’t leave me!”

But if the owl had heard him it refused to slow down, further and further it flew, deeper into the abyss, faster then Drill could keep pace. His limbs grew stiff and ridged, his skin felt numb and his mane no longer flapped with the wind.

Drill dared not pause to look over himself, lest he find the horrible state of his body and lose sight of the owl. Yet as he tried harder and harder to advance, he could feel his body reaching its limits, ready to give out under him.

In an instant, there was a loud snap as he suddenly tumbled into the snow, white ash stinging his face as he rolled over trying to right himself.

But his limbs wouldn’t respond, after a quick look, he saw why.

His front right leg had snapped in half, made brittle by the rapid onset of frostbite. There was no red river, nor cruel pain of dismemberment, his frozen nerves and clogged veins had made sure of that, clear through the blackened skin under his fur. But the horror was no less as saw his exposed bone stick out like a jagged icicle, and witnessed more of his body turn black and cover with ice.

Drill Bit struggled still, either out of feral instinct or force of will, but the more he tried to right himself the more he could hear his legs buckle and break under their own weight. And the all encompassing chill continued to spread, as he felt his body start to weaken.

He’d just about got to his hooves when his hinds gave out, both breaking at the knees and snapping like branches. Prompting a sudden scream of shock from the ageing stallion as he once more crashed to the ground.

The owl’s light was fading, and he felt so, so cold…

Author's Note

When the frost came Equestria prepared as best it could, but with famine, strained logistics and a lack of clear leadership on the part of the Princess. All it took was one massive, apocalyptic storm the likes of which were so bad, it became known as the Great Storm.

Before, Equestria as a nation was on the brink of fracturing and collapse. The Great Storm didn't just break the country's back, it snapped it in half.

My second ever story, and this time I'm experimenting with a different chapter structure after the 10k chapter mess that was The Boy and the Bug. While I'm still very much proud of that story it's evident it was my first.

Hope you enjoy!