PiE/HiE Short Stories - The Earth/Equus Treaties

Somewhere deep in the Crystal Kingdom's Snowlands, or Even Further North | A Short Distance From The Frozen Lake

Bundled up head to toe in every single fuzzy layer that he brought with him, Saemus slowly trudges out of his tent, swearing under his breath as the wind nips at his eyes, having forgotten to slip his goggles down off his forehead. It's quickly remedied, but still, he squints through the unwelcome slip of frigid morning air. The snow all around was fresh and fluffy, a reminder of the heavy blanket that was laid during the night. He hoped a storm wasn't on the rise, with just how much it'd been snowing as of late.

Nestled between a fallen tree and a ditch that he spent an hour digging last week, his current little encampment was probably where he'd be spending the next two weeks or so. Thickly gloved hands rub together for warmth, Saemus trudging in a vague circle to double-check his temporary setup. Lines were secured and hammered deep into the ground, now buried under last night's heavy snowfall, all keeping his sizable and multi-lined camping tent secured and rigid against the elements. Wind rolled up and over it's tree-hugged shape, so he shouldn't worry about it getting knocked over or blown away while he's gone, and his survival gear inside should remain untouched.

Wild animals wouldn't be much of an issue out here, if he recalls what the Crystal Ponies told him before he left. Well, between them calling him crazy.

Saemus has always had a tendency towards the wilds, the quiet wastes that exist outside the leylines of society, spending years as an ecologist back on Earth. So, when a portal to another world cracks open, and they start allowing people to go through? Of course he's going to spring on a chance to catalogue foreign ecologies. While the ponies had their own collections and writings about these kind of things, their culture, taboo fear of the unusual and technological state lead those accounts to being more rumor, gossip and old stories than any actually well-documentated findings.

So, Saemus set out to do what he does best, which is fuck a mile off from civilization for a few weeks, take records and samples, go home to log them, and repeat. But he wouldn't settle for just any old environment.

The Crystal Empire, an adjacent and friendly nation to the Equestria that he traveled unto, was surrounded by vast expanses, sheer swathes, of long unexplored wilderness. What was considered inhospitable to a pony, even one that seemed to sparkle and be made of glass, was no match for human invention and drive. With little competition, Saemus' promise to catalogue the wilds they feared for so long drew some level of interest, which may have included a research grant from the crown. Not what he expected, but he'd hardly say no to funding.

Never met said crown, but their dignitary was nice enough.

But enough reminiscing. Saemus pats himself down, doucle-checking himself for all the tools he'd need for the day. Since most of his food was pre-packed and stored for long-term consumption, what he kept in his insulated bag was a variety of scientific measurement tools and means of recording findings. Today's route would take him by the frozen lake for another testing of it's waters, and a quick loop around his capture traps that he's laid through the forest that encircles the lake. He's even got a few set up in a hole in the ice he cut out himself, his hands still sore from hand-drilling it out days prior. The ice was more than a foot thick, which made sense, considering the entire region was buried in an eternal, perpetual winter. But damn if it didn't take forever to get through.

He'd already gotten samples of the trees, bark, their eerily slimy sap, so his focus now lay on the waters and what may live within said forest. Assured in that he hadn't forgotten anything, Saemus adjusts his goggles, and starts trudging through the knee-deep snow with heavy steps, keeping his breathing at a steady pace.

...

"And with that..." Saemus tightens the lid to a small, plastic tube, shaking it around. Water sample for the day collected, and he can scour it for micro-organisms and the like when he gets back to the Empire. They should've delivered the tools he ordered by then, if they didn't get held up by portal customs. He had plans to make himself a little laboratory that he could pour over his findings, perhaps even get a sterile environment. Now, for the other task.

Rummaging through his pack, Saemus finds an aluminum pole. Like he'll he was getting his hands in there to find them. Poking the button and flicking it out, it rapidly extends, clacking yo a stop after stretching out by several feet. With a few twists, it's secured.

The frigid water slowly swishes and schlops around, the top of it more like a slurry than a proper liquid surface. All that work, and he barely had a hole large enough to squeeze a trap or two into it, pinned topside by a few anchors he hammered in.

Knees against the ice, Shaemus is knelt over the hole in the large, sweeping lake he's in the near center of. The snow-blanketed forest that surrounds the entire landscape feels distant and empty, only the drifting wind for company. Well, that and the earbuds keeping him from becoming subsumed by the monotony of his task. He loved his work, sure, but sitting huddled over an ice-hole with an extending hook-pole, fishing around blindly for one of his two collapsible cages was hardly stimulating. While Saemus might not look it, he's got a weakness for the genre known as 'white girl music', leaving him to rely on the odd glance around himself to ensure he properly remains alone, catchy pop songs from years prior playing in his ears. Not like there was much activity from anything but the hardiest plants rustling about in the wind, caution would still prove his friend. He didn't know anything that was properly out here, nor did he want to miss the chance to be the first to capture proof of existence.

His rod bumps something, catching his attention. There it is. While he's not trying to build up his own excitement, he can't help but let curiosity tickle the mind, the wonders of what creature, tinged with magic, might rest below this frozen barrier. With a tug, the half-broken chunks of slush part, Saemus slowly heft out a foot-length, half-a-foot wide trap, made for catching aquatic species, where unlike his surface traps, sturdy plastic walls offered full containment alongside visibility. They weren't cheap, but they were invaluable. He sets it on the ice behind himself, peering inside.

There's a fish.

He's actually got a fucking fish.

"YES!" Saemus shouts, leaping to his feet -- he nearly slips on the ice, quickly wobbling with his arms splayed out, legs wide to rebalance himself until he's steady. But he's still smiling. That's the first living fauna he's actually managed to bag while he's been here. But better than just that, it's veritable proof that fauna does reside within these plains of snow and ice. That there's an ecosystem beyond just the sturdiest flora.

Of course, he has no way to measure the magical side of these creatures yet, but that's fine. This isn't the kind of thing you solve in a single trip. This kind of thing? Saemus could make a lifelong career out of it, cataloging the lands past the Crystal Empire that none of the ponies dared venture. Like the Earth explorers of old.

He almost entirely lays down on the ice, stomach to the cold ground buffered only by his bulky clothes, hands gripping the side of the trap as he stares inside, watching his sole captee.

He'd made a guess on the bait, taking a portion from his own rations and tucking it inside, but it looks like even Equestrian -- no, Equus fish have similar dietary habits. Still laid out on the ice, he rustled out his phone from his jacket pocket. It's a cumbersome effort, and the phone serves little purpose now beyond recording his findings with it's complete lack of service. A few battery packs tucked back at camp ensures he still has access to his notes, and a little stylus he plucks from it's side ensures he can still type with his thick gloves.

He had a pen and notepad if things took a turn for the worst, but still. Convenience. Well, and his music of course. Can't work without tunes, now can he?

"Subject has... very pronounced scales." Saemus slowly taps out, watching the curious creature slowly bump into the plastic walls. It looked almost like something from earth, perhaps a salmon, though it's size was closer to half a foot in length. The scales that ridged it's body were far larger and pronounced, almost the size of his nails. It was a deep, muddy brown, with almost translucent fins. If it was beheld to any magic that allowed it to survive out here, it was subtle. Other than a few oddities, it just looked like a fish. Not terribly surprising, but still.

"I'll have to check if its description matches anything previously recorded, before I go naming things and trying to claim myself as first finder..." Saemus mumbles to himself, slowly tapping out his findings into his notes document. It's a slow process, but he's got time.

The moment he finishes his last thought, he quickly glances up, making a half-assed glance at his surroundings to ensure he was still... alone.

Saemus drops his phone and stylus, slowly pushing himself up with his arms, back to his knees.

He's not alone.

There's a... pony, far, far on the other side of the lake, standing between the trees. A pony wouldn't be cause for alarm, it's their planet after all... if it was anywhere but here.

He was told that nopony lives out this far, that the Crystal Empire was the furthest Northern bastion of pony civilization. And yet, impossibly, there one stands.

How?

Pushing himself up to his feet, Saemus steadies himself on the ice, raising and waving an arm. Their people's expressions typically aligned culturally, even between hooves and hands. They might not wave back, sure, but he could at least say hello. Maybe they were one of those Crystal ponies and had gotten lost?

Even this far from the other, spanning near the full lake, he can see the silhouette shift as their ears flicking. They've acknowledged his greeting.

But they don't wave back.

Instead, they look around...

... And begin trotting towards him.

Saemus remains still, quickly looking himself over and brushing the mixture of chipped ice and packed snow from his jacket, trying to look at least a little more presentable. Oh, right, his music. He quickly crouches down, awkwardly pawing at the ice to scrape his phone and stylus off the flat, frozen sheet, a task made comically difficult by the sheer size of the gloves protecting his hands.

By the time he manages to tap his music to pause, he can already hear the soft clop of hooves on the ice, reverberating ever so softly. The moment Saemus looks up, they're... no, according to the anatomy he's come to recognize from their species, she is already pausing a few feet away from him, opposite his ice-hole and occupied trap.

Certainly not a Crystal Pony, lacking in their iconic, and often eye-bothering sparkle and glint. This one had fur, like most. Unlike most, she had... a lot of fur. Thickly-coated, more than he'd ever seen in his travels northward. The existence of a species properly acclimated for colder weather made sense, but the actual idea had slipped from him when he found that said Ponies were made of Crystal, instead. Or at least shined like it. The distinction was still lost on him.

A stark, black mane sweeps over a surprising amount of herself, likely not cut in some time. Perhaps another means of keeping warm, amidst the sheer abundance of sandy, or more likely tan colored fur. It looked particularly thick around the edges of her hooves, and her chest, though she seemed a larger appearance from sheer fur-percentage alone. Brilliant blue eyes meet his stare, a slightly-parted set of lips looking like they're on the verge of uttering something, though they never do.

Her expression is guarded, though a curiosity undoubtedly peers through her furrowed, suspicious expression. She even seems confused, looking the whole of him over several times. Though she says nothing, her ears speak the volumes that her words do not. Flicking, twitching, tilting, all while she makes minute head-motions, as curious of him as he is to her.

"Didn't expect to see any ponies out here. Saemus." He goes to offer, outstretching a hand to the stranger.

She flinches back at his sudden extension, nose twitching. She glances between him, and his hand, before inching forward, stretching her neck to sniff his glove.

Other ponies had shaken his hand with their hoof before. Was this... he didn't want to assume simple, but perhaps a more feral species of pony, borne of a wilder civilization? He, of course, allows whatever approach of investigation she deems worthwhile to herself, though it ends shortly, seemingly content following taking in his scent.

She glances down at the trap, tilting her head curiously.

"Ah. Do you know what species of fish this is?" Saemus quickly follows, kneeling down beside it, gesturing to it's occupant, who floats around primarily unbothered. No answer, but while he's not expecting one, it would still do well to retain some mutual respect. If offered, it is more likely to be returned.

Her hoof paws at the cage, glancing up at him.

Perhaps she can't see it that well, or she's curious as to the contraption itself? There is a lid on the top, for easier access to the creature within. It takes a bit of fiddling with his glove on, but after a moment, the clasp pops open, revealing the inside of the trap to the open air.
"This is a trap. Non-lethal, only meant for capture, so that I can study..."

And the moment he does, her face is suddenly submerged in the water, face inside the trap.

Saemus blinks, at a loss for words.

After a short, splashing pause, her head pulls free, entirely unbothered by the frigid water of the trap she just dunked her face into -- with the fish firmly held between her teeth. She shakes her head, flicking water from her mane. The fish slaps in her maw, but isn't going anywhere, anytime soon.

She blinks back at him, turning in place, trotting back the way she came. Saemus can only stare at the stranegr who just came along, took his catch, and is now happily exiting with the fish he intended to tag and return to the lake. He tsks, watching as she effortlessly crosses the ice without a single issue, nary a single slip.

... Well, he'll still consider it a win. He just found out that at the least, these wilds are inhabited by a sole individual who doesn't share a genome with the other species that he's seen. At the most? There might be an entire, unknown, forgotten society out here. Ponies who aren't bothered by the frigid cold.

Time to check his other traps. Can't go skimping on his other research just because of a single discovery, no matter quite how jarring it might be.

...

"Not very vocal, are ya?" Saemus greets her again, knelt in front of his ice-hole. Part of it had frozen over during the night, so he's chipping away at it, sweating himself into a swampy mess under all his layers. Still, needed to be done. Water to swab, traps to check, and so on.

It's been three days since their initial meeting, and she's apparently gone ahead and learned his routine. Trailing after him as he makes his rounds, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. Especially whenever it gets to the lake. Not as interested in his other, above-ground traps for small game to tag (which have, unfortunately, still gone dry) her eyes widen whenever he fishes out one of his cages. He hasn't had any luck in catching any fish, and she usually wanders off by the time his trench-hidden tent comes into view.

Most surprising was the ease that she followed him around. Ice nor snow seemed to slow her, no matter how slippery or how deep the snow got, easily cresting atop it. Saemus' curiosity was getting the better of him, wanting to know more about this odd creature.

"That's alright, I appreciate the company." Saemus grunts, rummaging around the water with his hooked rod the moment he's gotten enough of the hole clear again. He's getting better at finding the traps as they float below the surface, hefting up another one.

She steps forward.

"Ah-ah. Hold on." Saemus holds up a hand, blocking her approach. She tilts her head, confused. There's a fish inside, and Saemus wants dibs. It's nothing special, looking like the first one he caught that she paraded off with, but he's got to check it either way.

To her credit, she takes a seat on the icy ground, watching him as he produces his phone. Mumbling to himself, tapping in an entry about it's features, details, and trying to find any dimorphism to prove a gender at a glance. No luck. It looks like an almost carbon-copy of the one he'd first found.

He really wants to tag it. But, a glance at the patiently waiting pony relents his plans. There's more fish, likely, but there's not many ponies running around, nor staying so close.

"You want this one too?" He asks, gesturing to the cage, and the lone fishing swimming in circles on it's inside.

She nods, glancing down at it in anticipation.

His eyes widen.
"You understand me?" He points to his own chest. The question confuses her, raising a brow.

"...Yes?" She states simply, like the question was ridiculous. Honestly, she seems more disinterested in continuing the conversation, and would much prefer the fish as soon as possible.

That was like a flashbang to his mental capacities. An overload to his expectations.

"So you can speak!" Saemus announces, nearly jumping upwards. She flinches back at his sudden loudness.

"... Not unless I have to." Her tone is dry, and unenthused.

"Sorry. I'm Saemus." He offers again.

"Yes, I remember." She nods.

"And... you are?" Saemus tries to lead, gesturing towards her.

Her lips purse, looking at the fish, weighing answers to the worth of the creature within it's holds. Apparently, the fish is worth a surprising amount of tolerance.

"... Deepest Drifts." She eventually relents.

Now she's staring at the fish, only side-eyeing him every few moments, deeming her answer worthy of the prize within the metal and plastic container.

And you know what? Fair enough. The moment he pops the lid of it again, her face is in the trap, teeth deftly grabbing the fish from it's confines.

Cheek-fur dripping with water and mouth holding her prize, she blinks at him again, before trotting off the way she always goes, into the distance past the lake. Maybe he'll follow her one day, though he can't just leave all of his gear sitting around like this, and he's only packed for a short excursion.

Part of him is getting a little worried, pushing himself to his feet. The weather is getting worse, indicative of a coming storm, though he's no clue when. Soon for sure. Though maybe she's more acclimated to surviving them then he ever will be. Saemus shrugs, returning to his task of rummaging out the second cage, hoping she's left him with something he can actually tag and return to the waters.

...

"Hold on, hold on," He blocks her again. Nearly a full week of this now, and it's practically routine. She's not terribly keen on answering his questions, mostly just following him out of curiosity, or shrugging when he asks things. While Saemus has had much better luck in actually catching fish in his traps, the only downside is Deepest Drifts penchant for wanting every single one. And while he's alright with handing off the treat, Saemus is getting a little tired of doing so for free.
"I have conditions with this one."

That seems to catch her off guard, looking at him curiously.
"What would they be?"

"Knowledge. I'm catching these for research, and I'm missing out by giving these catches to you. I'm alright with doing so, but I'd like something in return. I would like... to research you."

"Research me? How?" Her hooves knead the ice, impatient.

"I'd like to ask you questions, and to record your physical traits. In exchange, you can have the fish I catch." Saemus explains.

"...Fine. What does this entail?" Deepest Drifts folds, surprisingly quickly.

"Well..." Saemus tsks, glancing back towards his camp.

...

She was startled when he 'took off his fur' as she described it, but he wasn't about to sit out in the cold when they had the opportunity to take their time. She'd never gotten this close to his camp, but his tent had enough room for the both of them. It helped her understand how he was surviving out here, the two sat across from the other, sheltered from the elements. Hesitant to climb inside, she eventually warmed up to how warm it actually was, Saemus setting his stove on to add some heat to their meeting. Beside them and Saemus' pile of clothes, was not only one fish, but two. A milestone in his catching rate, and he would capitalize on it.

Deepest Drifts clearly wants the fish, glancing at them repeatedly, but she's willing to uphold the deal, waiting patiently.
"So? Now what?"

Phone and stylus ready, Saemus clears his throat.
"May I see your hoof?"

"My hoof? Alright..." She offers her front limb forward, watching as he reaches for it.

"...This is strange." She mumbles quietly, watching the movements of his hand with suspicion. Slowly, his fingers trace around her hoof, checking the state of it the toughness, the odd tingle it seems to emanate when he holds it. Tilting it upwards ever so slightly, his fingers splay out across the bottom of it, feeling the stark difference in the 'frog' compared to the rest of the hoof, and how it feels so strangely... soft? One wouldn't expect that from something designed to protect them from the ground as they travel, but Saemus has read accounts of hoof-manipulation, and her tendency to walk overtop snow might play into the design of it as well.

"...Mm..." She hums softly, leaning closer to inspect his touch.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Saemus asks, confused, although relieved when she shakes her head.

"No. It feels... odd. What are you touching my hooves with?" She asks, Saemus more than delighted to return her own interest and questions.

"My hands. Fingers. They're my 'hooves' I suppose." He tries to explain, but she seems only more curious still.

"And what are you?"

"Human. Have you not seen any of us before?"

She shakes her head.
"We see very little. Few tread this far north. How can you handle the cold. This... fake fur you wear?"

"Yes. My species doesn't have fur, and we lose body heat easily, so we bundle up in clothing. Layers."

"Then why are you here, if you're not made for this weather?" She seems concerned, like he's a fool for treading to such a clearly dangerous region.

"Research, like I said. The ponies of neighboring regions know very little of these areas, so I'm learning as much as I can about them. Which, at this time, includes you." He pats her hoof, letting her go.

"Me?" She questions, still holding her hoof in the air for a few more seconds, before setting it down.

He nods.
"The Ponies I know don't like to eat animals. Yet you seem quite content with fish. Why is that?"

"They're... good food?" She responds, confused by the answer.

Well, before he tries to ask anything else, Saemus finally offers one of the fish, which she readily and excitedly takes. Considering their position, and with another fish on the line, she decides to eat it here, in front of him. It's an interesting method, holding it with her hooves as she lays down, using her hoof to scrape the scapes, her teeth to rend the head, and just... eats it. Raw.

The smell of fish might permeate his tent for the foreseeable future, but everything is written down, and considered worthwhile. By the time she finishes eating, she's about to clean herself of the blood, before Saemus cuts in.

"May I?" He gestures towards her, his curiosity abound.

"....Okay?" She responds with confusion, unsure of his intentions as his hands get closer. This time, to her face, still marred with the meal she ate only a second prior.

Lifting her lip, his thumb traces along her teeth, tracing her gums as her jaw holds open, tongue unsure where it should go as his fingers invade her mouth. Fresh flesh and blood still stains her cheeks, fur and teeth, but Saemus could hardly care, so deeply curious about the formation of her mouth. Deepest Drifts seems surprised and wordless at the sudden approach, remaining surprisingly still as he explores overtop her tongue, tenderly pulling on it slightly, leaning to look at the roof of her mouth.
"You are a fascinating creature. What else do you eat?"

"Umh... fith, mith... berrieth." She tries to explain, even with Saemus' fingers in her mouth.

"Ah, sorry. Shouldn'y be asking you questions while I'm..." He quickly removes himself, Deepest Drifts smacking her lips, squinting. She begins licking at her own fur, wetting her hooves to rub at her face and cheeks, cleaning herself. Saemus takes the moment to allow her some privacy, focusing on his notes and updating his findings on her omnivorous patterns.

Outside the tent, the wind begins to pick up, the walls of the camp rustling as the force increases. Deepest Drift's ears perk up, frowning, distracting her from her cleaning. They both shuffle towards the flap of the tent, Saemus unzipping it to look outside. Or, trying to, before the wind that whips into the small opening he creates incites him to instead quickly zip it back shut, Deepest Drift frowning at the snow that manages to slip it's way inside.

"It picked up faster than I anticipated. Or I stayed longer then I expected." Deepest Drifts sighs, fur starting to fluff as she braces herself for the harsh winds.

"You should probably stay here then, and wait out the storm. Here, I've got a sleeping bag we can share... do your kind huddle for warmth?" Saemus cuts in, rustling out his supplies from the corner.

"Uh... we do, but..." Deepest Drift mumbles, watching him. She looks down at the floor, fidgeting with a hoof.

"As do mine, with our lack of fur, we'll often share a sleeping area in harsher climates. If you want to leave, I won't hold you, obviously, but you're more than welcome here." Saemus continues, prepping for a few long, cold hours.

And to his surprise, it seems he'll do so with company. Despite her earlier flightiness, she tentatively steps towards the bedding he's laying out, looking at him for instruction. Before long, they're both slipped into a partially unzipped sleeping bag, buried under his jackets, spare blankets, and whatever else as they remain huddled away. Tucked in the dug-out snow, with a tree to block wind, they've whistling winds to listen to, and only the others company, slightly damp fur to his skin.

She takes an interest in his phone when he sets it up for music, giving them some peace from the winds and snow that assail the tent walls, though none gets through.

Despite her earlier hesitation, she's practically glued to his chest, apparently very surprised by just how warm he actually was, expressing some level of concern for just how much heat he exudes without fur, busy fearing for his safety in the storm despite his attempts to assure her.

After some time, her head lifts from his chest.
"...You said you wish to learn more about us? About... me?"

"I would, yes. Though I'll need to head back soon, I'm running low on supplies. But this storm... I doubt returning will be easy." Saemus sighs, not looking forward to ending this excursion. Both on giving up such a surprising bounty of discovery, and the misery involved in trying to get back during this kind of weather.

"I could take you to my tribe, then." Deepest Drift offers, shifting to look at him. "It would only be right, after your proposal."

"Your tribe? That would be... wait. Proposal?" Saemus blinks, the excitement of hearing such a revelation instantly side-lined by the rest of her words.

"We are a simple pony-kind, Saemus." She starts, saying his name for the first time.
"You've invited me to your home, fed me, sheltered me from the elements, and we've... embraced, so to say. By all accounts, these actions are proof that one might express an interest in me. So you should meet my family, at the least. When the storm lulls, I will guide you to my tribes current encampment, and we will wait out the rest of the storm there. There, it will be my turn to return the favor, and the care. Do you like fish?" Deepest Drifts explains, pressing a hoof to his chest. She's very... blunt, about such a statement, before turning it into a question, blinking at him. Compared to how she used to look at him, her expression has seriously softened, blinking slowly at him, though no smile finds it's way on her face. Doesn't seem like much of a smiler, or very expressive.

... It would be a prime opportunity to research an entire tribe of her kind. And a relationship with one of her kind would be a huge step forward in numerous fields.

Very well. For science, or... something.

Or maybe just for this tan-furred pony, who seems deeply intent on wrapping as much of herself around his torso as she can manage.