Oh Deer

Chapters

Chapter 1, background
Chapter 8, reunion
Chapter 2, the visitor
Chapter 3, greeting
Chapter 4, mysterious visit
Chapter 5
Chapter 6, feelings
Chapter 7, again?
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Chapter 1, background

Chapter 1

"steam-carts" are what we deer call the newly built train engines that divide our home of Whitetail Woods. Many decades before my birth, ponies began creating lengthy railroads to connect their large cities, without seeming to regard our home. My mother told me countless stories about the haunting train whistle, the chug of the giant, clanky freight carts riding into the night, the ghostly bright headlight that peered into your soul like a singular, looming eye.

Before that, my mother told me about how the woods were once all connected, that it was fairly easy to visit your relatives in separate villages, and how the thicket of the woods never seemed to end no matter which way you looked.

Then, My mother told me about how most of the trees were cut down for lumber. How the overwhelming abundance of construction ponies took lodge in our huts without our permission, some even calling us names, like "grass-chewers", or "blank-flanks". At age five, I remember when my mother was berated by a few hunky construction stallions for simply refusing to give up her hut. As a result, she was shoved and spat at, and I merely watched from the corner.

I was birthed as Swirling Cinnamon in a large deer tribe in the heart of Whitetail Woods, aptly named after my race. My father was the chief of the tribe, and my mother was the one to raise me for all of those years when he never showed his face. He was "strong and humble", gaining the respect "deserved" in his tribe. However, he proved to have the strongest disinterest in raising me, and he will never gain my respect.

My mother told me how he had changed since they first got together. She told me how, one day, he had found a settlement of different ungulates just outside of Whitetail Woods… ponies. He grew to really like these ponies and their "sophisticated" ways, their advanced architecture, their pungent industrialization. He even encouraged ponies to build the long steam-cart tracks through his land.

My mother, even after the rail-roads were built, crossed them like they were never there. She completely denied their existence. Even if, oftentimes, she would trip over the thick metal tracks from time to time.

The ponies were at least generous enough to give us the train's schedule, so us deer would know when they would pass by. I remembered that one would pass by in the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening, just before dark. However, one time, the ponies had extra cargo to ship, thus requiring them to ride at the wake of night. Midnight.

I remember being woken up in the middle of the night by the blaring train whistle as the freight carts whizzed by, shaking the ground, blowing dust through my bedroom window. I remember shivering in my bed as my ten-year-old self thought that monsters were going to stomp on my hut. It happened twice, and the second time was followed by a piercing shriek.

I remembered being startled by the sudden scream, shivering and sweating in my bed in the midst of midnight. The next day, I found out that a doe had been run over by the train tracks. I remember seeing a group of deer huddled around the train tracks where it happened, I remember seeing the body of the doe, split into two, cut finely down the middle.

Since then, there were no more train accidents as tall wooden fences were built alongside the tracks, further making it difficult to cross them. I'm sure it would have cost the ponies too much to build a crossway.

The tracks showed us that we were not in power of our home land, and that something much greater was at play. The ponies wanted the land for themselves, and, for the most part, they got it, and we deer could only watch in despair. Eventually, though, something else would further cause us to develop a feeling of fear and danger within our ownhome land.

Timber wolves. I still know very little of their origins, but they are said to have been brought here... on purpose... because they were apparently so few in numbers, that they could all fit in a five-hoof large pen. Eventually, after the ponies took them into captivity, they were released once again into the "Everfree Forest", which was actually Whitetail Woods, instead. Apparently, this happened about two centuries ago.

Our woods, granted, are quite gigantic. They span far through the west, and connect, or, were connected with the Everfree Forest. However, both woods had lost their connection way before my birth due to much needed pony lumber supply.

Upon their release, the wolves first appeared in the far east section of the woods, then slowly grew in numbers, spreading through the woods all the while developing a strong liking for deer hide.

It was a regular afternoon. Our village was filled with the typical wholesome and cheerful energy that radiated all throughout. From one hut to the next, from one deer to the other. Our vendor friend, Long-Tail, the father of my best friend, Reed-Tail, was trading some freshly-knit garments for some fresh bowls of maple-leaf stew. I saw a stag playing with his yearling daughter, passing a ball to her and her passing it back. I saw a young, energetic deer couple running together while laughing and giggling. Suddenly, we heard a strange sound in the distance, a howl. The first few howls were not enough to disturb the peace, but eventually, they got so loud that the whole village was swept by confusion and silence.

Soon, before we knew it, we are bombarded by gigantic, wooden timberwolves. Their skin was rough, scaly, and a dark, burnt color. Their eyes glowed a piercing, menacing green, their mouths and jaws were adorned with rows and rows of twisted, jagged, razor sharp teeth. They arrived in a pack of eight or so, but they were more than enough to nearly wipe out our entire village.

We scrambled to safety. We ran, we screamed, we hid in our huts. Some made it to their huts, some didn’t. Some of us saw our friends and family die in front of our eyes in the jaws of these wolves, only able to watch in terror as they were torn into pieces. At the same time, we waited endlessly for our chief to do something. To fight back, to help. But, he had already left. He left before the wolves even appeared. My father left me and my mother for dead.

I hid in my hut, twenty or so other deer found safety in my hut, but none of the twenty were my mother. I grew frantic, I searched for her endlessly. I tried to leave the hut, but a stag pulled me by my small antlers and shouted, “Do you want to be eaten too???” with shaky fear in his voice. At one point, a frantic doe mother screamed in terror out the window, possibly at her yearling. She even shouted at them to run to our hut, but considering how her screams eventually changed from desperation to absolute devastation and anguish, I can assume that it was too late for the yearling.

Soon, the wolves were seemingly satisfied, and promptly left the village. We all remained hidden and silent in the hut for several minutes afterwards. Eventually, we all came out again, one by one, once we all thought it was safe again.

For several minutes, the village was dead silent, as deer were still exiting their huts in petrified fear. Then, the village was filled with anguish cries and songs of sorrow upon the devastating bloodshed before them that was once their family. I saw fathers hold their dead daughters. I saw spouses holding each other, I saw friends crying together. I saw stags rushing to help, I saw doe's running home. I saw a doe, legless, being carried to her hut while screaming in shrill agony.

I saw my mother. Strangely, she was the most in-tact of all of the deer. Not a chunk was bitten off of her. “Mother..?” I wept. A part of me thought that she was only playing dead, as she appeared to be unscathed. I kneeled down to her, she was still alive, though barely

“Cinnamon…” she smiled, her voice rippling, her eyes distant and faded. I saw her neck, or rather, the large gash across it. I saw her face getting paler, her smile fading. I tried carrying her back to the hut with the help of another stag, but she was gone before we knew it.

My father? Nowhere to be seen. I never saw him again after that day. To be fair, I never really saw him at all throughout my yearling-hood.

That day, he had taught me something so valuable that I will forever carry it through my years, and that is to never trust him again.

He failed to protect our tribe, he failed to protect me and my mother, all he did was leave us behind. My mother died because of his arrogance and lack of empathy. If he had never left, my mother would probably still be alive. Instead he proved to be a fake leader, a fake chief. A fake father. He never stood for what being a chief meant, and he never bothered to bat an eye.

However, I still don't believe that it was all entirely his fault. I believe the industrious ponies had a large influence on him, somehow making him believe that large buildings and steam-carts are "the way of the future". That, whatever the ponies did, we deer should do, too.

That day of the timber wolf attack, about thirty deer had died. nine of which were stags defended their yearlings and their spouses. The rest were yearlings and spouses… unprotected… such as my mother.

After that, the remaining deer no longer found a reason to stay. The grieving wives and mothers of the deceased stags felt like they had no choice but to leave the village. The grieving fawns no longer felt the need to hold on to something that was already lost. In under three years, sixty deer had left the village, most of the huts were taken down and their materials brought with the deer. The remaining standing huts were left to rot out. By my twenty-fourth birthday, another twenty had left. Soon, Our village was reduced to mere remnants of what we once were as a community.

Soon, I found out that our tribe was one of the last to be vanquished by timber wolves, and one of the last to be disbanded. The nearby villages had already faced their ultimate destruction long ago. However, I still want to believe that all of those tribes still had a better leader than my father ever was.

_____________________________________

Having collected thirty-three years in my life, I actually found myself learning more about life as I got older. Many deer like to boast about reaching thirty, they love to flex their knowledge onto any deer they could find. But I’m different. I found myself growing more humble the older I got.

I woke up today like every day for the past two decades… alone. I laid in my straw bed in silence, thinking extensively. A lone song bird sang peaceful tunes outside. I heard the ruffling leaves in the wind, then I heard a train whistle in the distance.

Decades later and the steam-carts still ride down those rails, three times a day, every day. Sometimes, they would not operate on holidays, pony holidays. But only sometimes.

The rails are no different from several decades ago, apart from a few new specs of rust along the edges of the rails. The posted sign of the schedule is now rotted out, leaning on one side.

I have found a passion and interest in weaving around my twenties, and I would begin making quilts, robes, and baskets for my deer friends and neighbors. Unfortunately, there aren’t many deer left to give them to, but, I still create, and that puts my mind at peace.

Although our village is pretty much vacant at this point, there are still a few loyal deer that still call this village home. My best friend, Reed-Tail, being one of them. He still lives in his hut with his grandmother, and never bothered to leave. Most of his immediate family had left after the wolf attacks, but Reed and his grandmother stayed behind.

Next to him, another deer couple lives in a separate hut. They have a young stag, and they are expecting another anytime soon. I even began making a basket for the little fawn when they will be born.

Finally, there is a lone, peculiar doe, Sap-Joy, who lives right across from me in a tiny, disheveled hut. Back in the day, she would be often picked on for having the ugliest and smallest hut in the village.

Sap-Joy is Reed's cousin, and they often hang out... a lot. Reed and Sap-Joy are part of the largest family in our village. Sap-Joy alone had four other siblings, all of which were stags.

Three of her brothers died during yearling-hood, and her fourth, closest brother soon died as well to a severe disease. Despite her several tragedies, Sap-Joy had gained a strong resilience, but also a dense head.

I visit Reed-Tail everyday. Sometimes twice a day. Reed and I connected as soon as we met, on an almost spiritual level. He was always a little rowdy as a yearling, and he still is to some extent, but he and I connect in such a way that is quite hard to compete with.

After my very minimal breakfast consisting of a few leaves and twigs, I would head to his house. as I walked down the winding dirt path that connected each and every hut to each other, I felt more and more disassociated with the fact that this village was once bustling with energy and joyful life.

Chapter 8, reunion

reunion...

I woke up to a knock. I groaned and shifted in my bed. After Fluttershy had left, I barely remembered the following events that proceeded, apart from me hitting the bed and falling asleep.

I groaned as I forced my body to stand up. Another, harder knock followed. I slowly trudged to the door. Upon opening it, I found myself staring down on the fluffy chest of a tall, bulky reindeer. I directed my gaze upward to meet the hulky, long face of the deer, a note was clamped in his white muzzle. He looked down on me with a sort of... innocence, despite his brutish size.

"Hallo! Das ist für Cinnamon!" He bellowed. I could only make out "Cinnamon" in that sentence, and I assumed that the letter was for me. I slowly grabbed the paper note from his muzzle with my own, plopping down to my haunches, and resting the note on my front hoof. I read it to myself,

"Deer Cinnamon,

Can you please come over for lunch? I wish to speak to you.

-Swirling River.

I stared blankly at the note afterwards. It was signed by Swirling River, my father. I wanted to crumble, burn, and stomp on this letter right then and there. But, for some odd reason, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just ended up staring at the letter for an additional two minutes, the reindeer didn't budge. I looked up at him, and he took that as a cue to leave,

"Wait," I called. He stopped and turned around. I simply walked out with the reindeer, and he took that as a cue to follow me. I chucked the letter, and I ended up dipping into my curiosity, what did that old stag want from me? He never even batted an eye when I was a yearling, and suddenly... he wants lunch with me?

__________________________

The reindeer led me to Swirling River's house. We ended up exchanging some engaging conversation along the way. His name was Snow Skipper, and he told me all about his life. How he used to live in a region called "Bug Bear", how he found a construction job in Yakyakistan. Then, how he began working for Swirling River when they met up in Trottingham.

"So, you've been around," I inquired. He nodded in an exaggerated fashion,

"Ya, i'fe been in mahny places," he started, his voice was thick and deep and rugged,

"Ven I met your father, It became a new opportunity for me. The construction joub vas getting too costly on my body."

I nodded in silence. All around me I began to notice the treeline thinning out. Our path began as a simple, tucked away dirt path in the thicket of the woods, then soon became a gravel path amidst a vast, endless rail system. The trees cut down, the numerous steam-cart engines humming and growling all at once. A train seemed to go in every possible direction, it was only a matter of time before they began making railroads to the sky. The air smelled pungent of train exhaust, coal and steam. I had to squint to look for the next nearest tree.

"A few more paces," he said. I only paid attention to the railroads that were growing increasingly and steadily unavoidable.

__________________________

We arrived at a modest town of ponies. But however few ponies were around, they all took a moment out of their day to stare at the new pony in town.

Eventually, we arrived at a seemingly poverty-struck section of the town. The few ponies that lived in this area all seemed to smell like pure stink, even several hoof-steps away. Some limped on their legs, some didn't have legs. Some slept in broken, run-down shacks, some slept on the street.

Eventually, me and Snow Skipper stopped at a random shack. This shack appeared to be a little larger than the rest, but that's not saying much. Snow Skipper took the responsibility to knock on the door. Whoever this Swirling River deer was, they seemed to have it rough.

After a minute of waiting in the cold like idiots, Skipper found out that the door was unlocked. We both entered quietly into the shack. The whole room stunk like cooked vegetables, and no matter where I placed my nose, it seemed to follow me like a forever stench.

"WHO'S THERE?" a crackly, jagged voice boomed from the next room. I stood still for a moment. I still don't know what this Swirling River fellow wants from me.

"JUST LEAVE THE MAIL BY THE DOOR!-" he yelled again. Snow Skipper stepped into the next room, I assume to tell him that I'm here.

"CINNAMON?" he called. I froze.

"CINNAMON? CAN YOU COM'ERE!!?" his clawing, naggy voice caused my body to tense up in cringe. I hesitantly approached the next room.

In the center of the room burned a small lamp, on top of the lamp laid a pan of cooking vegetables. Behind the pot sat Swirling River. Upon looking at him again for the first time in decades, I gained recollection of memories of his tall, muscular build when I was a yearling. I recalled how he used to tower over me, at least in the very few times I ever saw him. Now, I towered over him. It felt like a small bit of sinister irony. His fur was a grayish-brown color, and his legs were practically bone and skin. I inched closer. I wasn't sure if he was looking at me on account of the vegetable smoke rising in the air and obstructing most of his face. He was accompanied with an older doe, my aunt Succulent Cinnamon.

Both deer appeared to have been drinking an ale of sorts. Bickering and laughing as their lunch sizzled in their burning pan. I found a seat, as far from Swirling River as possible. Snow Skipper found a seat next to him. After what felt like ages, the old buck took a momentary glance in my direction. His face changed from drunk ignorance to something that resembled pity, all the while his drooping, aged eyes never left mine.

"So, Cinnamon, did you... meet my partner? He'sss cool- he's from Bug Bear..." he asked in a condescending tone. I nodded.

"No, not like that, don't you get any ideas, there!" He guffawed. I feigned a smile, growing more uncomfortable.

"It musta' been a while since you saw your aunt! Say hi!" He beckoned me. I, in a kind fashion, declined. Succulent Cinnamon hobbled toward me,

"Hello, my little juicy cinnamon!" She cooed, planting a wet, soggy kiss on my forehead. She turned to her left for a moment, coughed loudly, and returned to her seat, "It's been so long!" she added,

"How's my sister, hm? Your mother I believe?"

"Dead," I replied flatly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She said in a fake tone, chugging down some more ale, "But to be fair- She was kind of... ditzy though...if you know what I mean," she sneered. I faked a chuckle, and I fantasized about slamming her face with the red hot vegetable pan. Swirling River's face seemed to change upon my reply, he gazed down at the floor, appearing to be slightly saddened by the news, but nothing more. He faced me again, not saying a word. Succulent Cinnamon whispered something into his ear, a light bulb seemed to go off in his mind,

"Oh, I just remembered!" He started,

"In two weeks is Hearth's Warming! Our town makes it such a fun event! I made some decorations, wanna see?" He asked me. I didn't reply, only getting up to see what he had to show me. Snow Skipper joined me silently.

I walked outside and into the backyard. On a small, wooden table laid a small pile of a few wreaths spun out with twigs and branches. On top of them lay a small log with two sets of initials, SR, which was most-likely Swirling River, and another set, SC. I turned around, barely catching Swirling River and Succulent Cinnamon licking and kissing each other's faces. In a split second, they straightened up and faced me in a flat, uniform fashion.

"So, you like it?" he asked me in his broad tone. I nodded slowly,

"It's nice," I replied.

"It isn't just NICE, it's BEAUTIFUL!!!" Succulent Cinnamon chirped in a floaty, soft voice, exchanging a flirtatious glance at Swirling River. Both walked inside without me. Snow Skipper gave me a silent look of disappointment in my direction. We all found our seats again, and Swirling River gulped down another cup of ale.

"So," he belched, "I wanna cut to the chase."

"Mhm?"

He turned over to Succulent, and he spoke softly into her ear. She nodded and hobbled into the next room, looking over her shoulder once more at Swirling River, blowing a kiss. After a moment, he faced me and his expression got more serious,

"So... Son..." He muttered. I felt a chill down my spine, and I avoided his gaze.

"I... believe this is the first time we've... truly... talked it out."

"And, I hope it's the last," I sprung up. He only sighed.

"Also, I don't really care to talk it out with you, okay?" I said,

"I already know everything there is to know about you."

He looked at me in silence for a moment, nodded, and urged me to sit down,

"You," he hicced, "Have every right to be mad at me..."

I said nothing. He began to shake, then sob. He dropped his cup of ale from his hoof-grip. The vegetables in the pan continued to burn, the smoke, however, began to turn a dark gray color.

"The way I t-treated you, son,” he moaned,

"The... way I treated you..." he repeated a few more times, followed by a loud hiccup. The vegetables smelled burnt beyond recognition.

"I-" he belched, "I think we can work something out..." he slurred his words more and more as he spoke. He sobbed again,

"I'- I'm sssorry about... mother..." The vegetables began to ignite into a small flame. I was about to tell Swirling River about his lunch, but he seemed too deep into his vat of false remorse to care.

"No no," I began,

"Do not say you're sorry... when you don't mean it."

"But son, of course I-"

"Don't call me son," I huffed.

"Please son, I wanna... I wanna make things right-"

"Why am I really here, hm? Quit it with these fake apologies... I just wanna know why I'm here."

He stared again, he looked down and around for an answer, then faced me,

"I... I wanna make thingss... right-"

"Stop saying that," I shouted.

"I wanna make things right-!" He wailed like a pouty fawn. He sobbed louder.

"You're intoxicated," I said, "You aren't thinking about your words-"

"I AM THINKING..rrr.. I AM THINKIN'.." He boomed violently, his elder voice sound strained upon the exclamation. I sat down again. The room smelled completely like burnt vegetables.

"Your lunch is ready," I said. He didn't seem to hear me. He simply dipped his head and sobbed into his front hooves. I just watched. I watched him and the burning vegetables.

"Do you wanna know why mother died?" I got up again. He didn't face me, only sobbing to the ground.

"I'll tell you why. Because all you ever cared about are what ponies like to do. You never embraced your roots, your deerian roots. You never embraced your family- our family...mother. You just left to save your own skin. You never cared, so don't act like you do, okay?"

Swirling River didn't reply, I wasn't even sure if he was listening.

"Mother died because you left..."

He began to laugh. He wiped his black nose of its snot as he laughed and laughed. I grew furious.

“What?” I barked. He said nothing. His laughs slowly morphed into drawn out weeps again, and he rocked back and forth. The vegetable pan was now releasing black fumes throughout the room. Swirling River began to lick his hoof of the remaining ale, then, he belched and smiled again,

“All I did was…rrr… relieve her of… Her suffering…” he mumbled almost unintelligably. I just stared.

“...what?”

“You… heard me…” he muttered. He paused for a moment,

“Your mother… was… too sick,” he gagged momentarily,

“She wanted to act like it was all okay…”

I said nothing.

“Your… mother… was… tooooo sick…”

“Get on with it,” I grumbled.

“I.. ended her sufferin’... I…” he slumped over, his eyes began to droop.

“Get up,” I demanded. He didn’t respond. By now, the burning lamp was now burning the pot.

“What do you mean you ended her suffering-”

…

I just… froze. I stared down at him. I looked down at the ground, at the vegetable pot, and then at him. I gained a small flash of a memory of my mother's slit throat. Her distraught expression, her pale face. Her bright red blood spreading all around her.

…

“You… killed her?”

He began to sob.

“You killed her?” I repeated. He only responded with another sob.

“YOU KILLED HER!” I leaped at him, holding his neck in my arms. He bellowed something in between a wail and a laugh,

"nnNO!! NO I DIDN'rrrn...nnNO I DIN'!" He flipped me over and slammed me against the wall. A deep jolt of pain shot through my whole body, which was definitely not caused by the wall alone. I grunted.

“She was… SICk and… cryin’...”

“YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED HER!”

I leaped again, I managed to make him hit his head against the ground. He didn’t get up this time, and only groaned on the floor. His image was blurred behind my own tears.
He reached out his hoof and grabbed the burning lamp from under the vegetable pot and slammed it against the wall to my right, just behind me. A fire immediately sparked and I jumped. The pan of black, burnt vegetables spilled onto the floor and caused another flame to spread on the floor. Bright orange flames began to spread,

"SEE??? SHe- SHE's Herrree…SHE'S HERE!" He wailed louder and louder every second. Swirling River grabbed his empty cup of ale and chucked it in my direction, he missed, hitting Succulent Cinnamon behind me, who was just returning into the room. I slowly got up, my legs trembled. The fire grew more and more.

Succulent was on the ground, groaning softly and barely moving as her head began to bleed. The bloody cup of ale was right beside her.

"Ssswee'r Cinnamonnn... Sweer' Cinnamonnn...!! I’m sorryyy!!!" he cried. He rocked back and forth, holding himself. The room's flames continued to grow. Succulent slowly got up and scrambled to her hooves, leaving the house. Snow Skipper helped her out.

"C-Come Back to meee....!!! COME BACK to MEEE!!!" his words became a slurred, raspy song. The fire was approaching him from behind. I got up. He held and rubbed his own body as if he was cold. Funny, as the fire was about to engulf him. I turned my rear, Swirling sweeped my leg and I fell on my head. I gained a strong whiplash and my vision blurred. I turned over and saw Swirling River standing over me, now in doubles,

“There’s… nothin’ left for us…” he murmured,

“There’s… nnnooo hope for usss….”

He collapsed just beside me, I rolled over, facing him. He began to giggle. I slowly got back to my hooves, and I eyed him down,

“There’s no hope for you.”

I left him. I headed for the door, and he leaped at me and almost tackled me. With one swift movement I managed to make him miss, and He tripped onto his old hooves and toppled down the steps and onto the dirt street, face-first. He rolled over, groaning, his muzzle bruised and a few bloody teeth remained on the ground,

"Come... to me...." he sang in a soft tone..

"Sweet... Sweet Cinnamon..." his soft song led into an onslaught of continuous, frail weeps. I just looked down on him silently. My back felt warm from the heat of the flames behind me. I faced the engulfed shack, now burning with anger and vengefulness. I pranced away, not uttering a single word to a single deer.

"I'M SORRRY!!!"

__________________________

I found myself walking down the gray, run-down pony slums. To my left, a sheep was pulling a cart with two broad ponies aboard. Her wool appeared charred and covered in soot. Her legs wobbled, Her face sagged, Her muzzle scarred. She craned her head to me as I trotted by.

"'Scuse me, there," A voice called. It didn't sound like it was directed toward me so I kept walking,

"Scuse me!"

I looked back, seeing an orange-colored pony trot toward me with a basket of apples in her muzzle. She came to a full stop and briefly scanned my body, all-the-while carefully setting down the basket of fruit,

"Pardon me, but would you care for a nice 'n juicy apple? They're fresh and straight from the farm!" She beamed. Her accent was quite thick, but her attitude was... lively... I nodded.

She lifted an apple by the stem with her teeth and carefully passed it over to me. I let it land onto my front hoof as I took my first bite. The Apple was as nice and juicy as she promised.

"The name's Applejack, what's yours?" she asked me with eager curiosity. the name clicked as soon as she introduced herself. She was the friend of Fluttershy. I remember now.

"Cinnamon," I said.

"Cinnamon? Yummy!" She said,

"Nothin' better than Cinnamon N' Apples after a hard day's work, I reckon..."

"I'm... not interested in that..." I muttered, turning away.

"Oh no- not like that, silly!" She chuckled. She looked around for a moment, I cleared my throat,

"You live here?" I asked.

"Nope! But I do some charity work 'round here," She explained,

"Lots o' ponies are strugglin' these days and we gotta provide 'em with some genuine hospitality, 'specially 'round the holidays!" she beamed,

"I suppose you're... foreign?" she asked in a quizzical tone, raising a brow. I nodded silently.

"Heh, nice," she said,

"Y'know, I love all ponies of all shapes 'n sizes! And, I believe they all deserve a warm house to live in 'n some good food to munch on, y'know?"

I nodded silently.

"Well, I best' be goin', gotta empty out this 'ere basket, see?" She pointed at it with her hoof,

"Every week we come out here. Me 'n the Apple family," she turned away for a moment, "Oh, Y'know, I saw the cutest little filly today. Yay' high, poor thing hadn't gotten a wash in weeks. Her mama' had a wooden leg... I gave 'em both two apple and custard pies and they smiled with so much life in their eyes... I gave 'em some for the road too. Then she said to me, 'thank you, miss!' with her crooked teeth 'n all..." she paused for a moment, appearing to get teary.

"Last week I was in a poorer part of Ponyville, helpin' out some old cattle-folk," she trailed off,

"Gave 'em a few bags o' apples and that made their day. And, well, It made mah day too..." She faced me,

"Sure, I farm apples 'n all, but it ain't about sellin' as much apples as we can, it's about the love behind our work. The love we share with each apple, y'know?" She picked up the apple basket with her muzzle with relative ease,

"Well, I'll see ya 'round, Cinnamon!" She waved, then trotted away, looking for the next pony to visit. I took one more moment to observe these broken, ruined pony slums, before making my leave. I trotted, staring at the ground before me. A few ponies trotted past me, I could only tell because I saw their hooves pace down the dirt path.

"Nice antlers," one called. I looked up to whoever called. A blue-colored pony smiled at me, I faced him for a moment, then continued directing my gaze downward as I walked home, not saying a word.

Chapter 2, the visitor

The visitor...

"did you trim the grass today?" The raspy tone of Reed-Tail's grandmother's voice rang from across the hut.

"Yes, grandma. I trimmed it," he replied in an irritated tone. I sat at his dining table, and he joined me. Reed's fur is quite scruffy. He has long, brown wavy hair, though that hair is beginning to develop a few gray strands. His eyes are a deep hazelnut brown, and they feel deeply connected to me whenever they pass me a glance,

"So, Cinnamon. any plans lately?" He asked me in a rather flat tone. I shook my head.

"My grandma wants to go berry picking later. Wanna come?" he asked quickly.

I felt... sore. I slowly shook my head.

"That's okay..." he sighed, twiddling his front hooves on the table,

"Say, uh, I've been reading this good book lately. It's pretty cool--- it's about ponies."

I swallowed a sudden onslaught of anger that rushed through my being upon that word. "pony". I nodded,

"What's it about?" I asked calmly.

"How their industrialization led to the demise of Equestria. I-It's called 'Equestria's Demise'."

"Fitting," I said. I nodded, slightly intrigued.

"A few centuries ago, we were the dominant race, y'know," Reed raised his eyebrow as he made his point,

"But a few centuries later and splat! And guess what, I even heard some rumors that Whitetail Woods might be taken down for lumber, and for a new pony establishment..." he spoke in quick succession.

"The ponies are power-hungry. They want all of these trees for their buildings. Oh- Also, I heard that there were some Timbers nearby."

"Really?" I asked, feeling slightly apprehensive. He nodded.

"These ponies, lemme tell ya," Reed started, almost seeming to brush off what he had just said about timberwolves not too long ago,

"They just wanna impose their dominance. It's ridiculous! I mean, all these trains a-and buildings-"

Reed leaned closer to me, lowering the volume of his voice, but not all all his passion for the topic,

"I heard they might even be starting to build right here! A-As soon as next year even- it's crazy. Also, I heard that there was a pony nearby who's studying the area."

"Was he... with anyone?" I asked quietly. I was admittedly curious.

"Nope. But I'll tell you what," Reed leaned in even closer, speaking by my ear,

"If any of those dang horses come near my hut, They'll deeply regret it, I'll tell you that."

"Do... you know what he looks like?" I asked softly.

"Well, a local deer told me that they're a yellow color... a bit skinny, pink mane- kinda small for a pony," Reed said.

I nodded as I buried the vague description in the back of my head. Reed turned the pages of his book. I was hesitant to tell him that books were quite a pony-thing and were often written by the hooves of ponies. Of course, I didn't want to cause him any disappointment at the moment.

"This page talks about the ruler of Equestria... Celestia is it?"

"what about her?" I asked.

"Well," he started, pausing for a moment as he gathered the words from the page,

"She used to preach harmony. All equids and ungulates lived in harmony at some point. But then wars broke out- that's what it says here."

"Reed, I know this stuff already," I muttered. He simply nodded without passing a glance,

"Kirin and Deer suffered especially. Kirin exed themselves from pony contact, and... welll... we know of our situation."

I heard about all of these things already, I just wanted to be polite and let Reed speak. He always likes to repeat himself. I don't know if it's because he forgets quickly or if he simply wants to establish his point one too many times. I nodded silently.

"What about the other ones?" I asked. falsely trying to engage in the conversation.

"What other ones?" Reed looked up at me.

"You know, other ungulates..." I specified.

"oh, oh yeah! Like cattle?"

"Oh, don't get me started with cattle..." I croaked. I suppressed a chuckle.

"Heh, they managed to brainwash their entire society. Th-they basically submitted themselves to ponies for slavery..." Reed protested. I could sense him getting frustrated as his words gained haste. I nodded,

"It's not slavery. It's... more like hard labor. After the great cattle-pony war, cattle simply surrendered and swore to work for ponies for about five centuries. It was part of their treaty. Also, they reduced their vocabulary, only saying "moo", which is "yes" in cattle-ish."

"Well, look who's been studying," Reed huffed.

"Hey, you brought it up..." I chuckled. Reed said nothing. Reed's grandmother waltzed quietly into the dining room, despite pushing one hundred and two, she still seemed as crystal clear as ever. Even when she walked, she expressed no signs of aging or wilt,

"Come on, Reed. Let's go berry picking. It's getting late," she said softly. Reed nodded back, shutting the book and laying it carefully on the table. I got a brief look at the cover. It was a crude drawing of Princess Celestia holding a sword with beams of light coming out of her, as a few deer and cattle bowed down to her.

"Well, that's my call," Reed smiled at me. His beaming expression caught my attention. His sharp, hazelnut eyes peered into my soul. I smiled back,

"Sorry for keeping you," I said, blushing.

"No no, please. Thanks for stopping by."

_____________________________

A few moments passed as I zoned out in front of the tranquil brook. Night was approaching, the orange sun was disappearing behind the orange, changing trees. The sun rays shot between the tree branches like flaming swords. I still thought about that pony Reed mentioned. Was he still around? Surely he'd be back home by now.

I simply watched my reflection ripple on the brook with the orange hue of the setting sun. This brook was here for as long as I can remember. It's our water supply, our bath, it was our escape from our deep sorrows. The brook is not only a reflection on ourselves, but also on how to carry ourselves, to "keep on flowing no matter how many rocks get in the way", a motto my mother taught me, for which her mother taught her, and so on.

I sighed as I lifted my fatigued body onto my hooves. I slowly pranced back to my hut, feeling the slightly chilly dusk breeze along my brown fur, the slightly moist, dry yet soft leafy ground underneath my hooves. I smelled the fresh, aromatic scent of the juicy autumn leaves.

The night train was about to ride soon, I could hear its whistle in the distance. I pity ponies. They're always rushing everywhere. They're always galloping everywhere, without taking time to slow their gait and take in the beauty of nature. Us deer believe in nature more than anything else, we even put our fate into it. Ponies? They revolve their life around industrialization, hence why our woods are suffering.

Suddenly, I heard something stir in the bush to the right of me. I stopped. at first I thought it was a squirrel, but then it stirred again, proving to be something much larger. I stood absolutely still.

I jumped, it vocalized, "Angel..?"

I felt myself paralyzed as I stared at the bush. I inched closer, and a long, flowy pink tail now poked out from the bush.

"Who's there?" I appeared to have startled it, as it squealed and disappeared within the bush.

"Sap-Joy?" I called, thinking it was my peculiar doe neighbor. No response.

"Listen, I won't hurt you, I just wanna know-" A head suddenly poked out of the bush. It was a pony. Staring down at me with a face of mortified fear.

Chapter 3, greeting

greetings

The yellow pony shivered as she peered right at me. I saw two appendages poke out from her back. Wings? I guess she was a fly-pony. I inched closer, she shrunk into the bush even more. It was growing more difficult to believe that this pony was a construction pony, according to Reed-Tail.

"Who are you?" I asked, unaware that my voice was booming. She jumped and hid into the bush again. I tried lowering my tone,

"Okay, I won't hurt you... Just... tell me why you're here." The pony said nothing, just staring me down like I had five heads.

"Well, are you gonna speak?" I raised my eyebrow.

"I'm... looking for my pet... r-rabbit..." The pony stuttered.

"What's their name?" I asked.

The pony remained silent, murmuring to herself. I asked her to repeat herself. "Angel," she finally said.

I began to really doubt Reed. This pony was clearly lost.

"Well, I see no rabbits around," I said, "Perhaps you're lost. You should probably leave."

"O-Oh... b-but... I was... I was walking here with him... and th-then... he... kinda ran off... and... um... I wanna find him."

"Maybe he ran back home," I huffed.

"Well, a-actually,I saw him run this way..."

"Okay. Listen. Why are you really here? What is your true purpose??" I felt a surge of anger grow within me. But I also felt a little guilty for yelling at this timid pony, I sighed.

"Wh...what..?" she asked.

"Cinnamon!" A voice called. I craned my head to the source, only to see my friend Reed standing behind me, holding a spear in his front hoof.

"Reed- wait-" I called.

Reed instantly held the yellow fly-pony in a chokehold, holding his spear against her neck. The pony squealed. I inched back,

"Reed! Hang on! She might not be the right pony-"

"Of course she is! Look at her!" Reed barked back.

Suddenly, The pony crouched down and bucked Reed in the hindleg. He yelled in pain and fell over. She took to flight, spreading her wings and hovering over us.

"Get down here you jerk!" Reed shrieked.

"Reed, wait... Just wait for a moment- Pony, please come down, my friend is just misunderstood-" I called.

"Cinnamon! You can't be serious! I just told you about what this pony is doing! She wants to kill our woods! She wants to destroy it- I'm not letting her!" Reed snapped. I sighed as I approached him, embracing him as he breathed heavily in pain,

"Just calm down. She can't and won't do anything to us, I promise," I spoke softly into his ear. he nodded as his breath slowed down.

"Come down, pony," I called to her. She was still airborne, flapping her yellow, delicate wings.

"Don't worry, my friend won't hurt you. He's a little crazy-"

"Hey!" Reed snapped. I bumped his shoulder, "just go with it." Reed glared at me as I faced the pony again,

"We've all seemed to have gone off on the wrong hoof, pony, We've all been greatly misunderstood. So, if you may, please tell us your name, and why you're here." I spoke carefully so as to not scare her off again. She finally landed on the ground, still shivering in fear. After a moment, she spoke,

"I... I'm... F-Fluttershy."

"I'm Swirling Cinnamon," I said.

"Reed-Tail," my friend said from behind me, slowly sitting up. He winced while doing so.

"So... what... kind of p-ponies are you..?" Fluttershy asked innocently.

"Oh, like you don't know," Reed scolded. I hushed him.

"We are not ponies. We are deer. We've lived in these woods for a long time," I explained. Fluttershy said nothing.

"I suppose you're a fly-pony, correct?" I asked.

The yellow pony's face changed upon me saying that.

"W-Well, actually, It's "pegasus", not "fly-pony". That word's kind of a slur..."

"So's "horse", if I'm not mistaken," Reed snorted. Fluttershy gasped.

"Reed," I glared at my inpatient friend. He rolled his eyes at me.

"I apologize. I've not been informed. My mother used that word a lot, so I picked it up from her," I said, facing the pony. She nodded, without making eye contact with neither me or Reed,

"Can we... look for Angel now?"

"Who the hay is angel," Reed asked.

"Her pet rabbit," I said.

"Pet? OH! So you think you're so mighty and better than a little rabbit, huh? What else do you wish to assert your dominance over?" Reed shouted at Fluttershy. Her ears folded back as she inched away. I punched Reed in the shoulder, "hey!"

"let's be a little more neighborly, no?"

"Neighborly? To these horses? Hay no! They take and take from us! I want nothing of them!"

"Reed! Cut it out!" I shouted. Reed remained silent, only glaring back at me, frowning deeply,

"Fine, help this stupid pony. I'm gonna do something more worth my time," Reed spat at me, glared briefly at Fluttershy, then turned his back and prancing away angrily. I huffed,

"Sorry about my friend," I said. She nodded,

"It's okay."

______________________________________

"I've never seen a deer before. I've heard of them, but... never have I ever talked to one," Fluttershy said as she walked with me down the dirt pathway. I said nothing. I caught her looking down on my hooves for a moment,

"You have such small hooves," she said in amazement. I only feigned a smile.

"You have such large hooves," I fired back. Fluttershy chuckled. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again,

"You know, I... find you... interesting... in a good way..." the curious pegasus said,

"I... personally... love taking care of critters and animals, and meeting new species."

I nodded silently. Fluttershy darted her eyes around, searching for her pet bunny.

"Are there more of you?" I asked. She gave me a passing glance and shook her head.

"I came on my own. I take walks around the woods every few weeks with Angel. It's pretty nice, just enjoying nature. The stillness of it all. I... feel like I get to unwind."

This pony seemed... different, very different. She didn't seem like she wanted to cause any trouble. She seemed like she just wanted to enjoy nature. She proved to be a stark contrast to what I imagined a pony to be like. A few minutes had passed before the pegasus finally found her pet rabbit. She introduced him to me, telling him I was called a "deer", in her words, a special type of pony. He spat in my eye, then Fluttershy told me he does that with everyone. Throughout the whole interaction, I sensed a difference in her. She seemed very accepting of me... almost too accepting,

"Well, I... guess I should be heading back now," Fluttershy said softly, placing the bunny on her back as she hovered above-ground.

"Alright. Well, it was nice meeting you, Fluttershy," I waved. She smiled and waved back. flying away. I turned and headed back to my hut. I don't know if that pegasus will return, but I think it would be best for her not to, if she wants to be safe. My friend is quite paranoid of all pony-kind, and I don't want him to hurt her.

I made it to my hut, and I skipped dinner that night, not feeling a shroud of hunger. I huddled up in my bed, and tried shutting my eyes. My body still feels fatigued and sapped of energy... and cold. I sighed.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the door caught my attention. I slowly got up and opened my front door. It was Sap-Joy, my peculiar doe neighbor,

"Howdy," she smiled. I said nothing.

"Do you know where that pony went?" she asked me in a slightly bitter tone. I shook my head, yawning.

"Sorry for bothering you. I just thought she was suspicious. I don't want her eating my plants or nothing. Night night." she shut the door on my face. I huffed as I returned to bed. Sap-Joy certainly was peculiar. Some deers even make up stories that she got hit in the head by a rock, which is why she's so strange. I don't believe that's exactly what happened, but sometimes it's a little hard to deny. I yawned again as I tucked myself into my straw bed, shutting my eyes. The soft chatters of the crickets outside were always so soothing. I tried concentrating on them, I felt myself sinking in my bed.

Suddenly, another knock on the door made me jump back to consciousness. I sighed as I sprung up from my bed again. If it's Sap-Joy again, I'm going to shut the door on her face.

I slowly opened the door, only for no-deer to be there. Was this a prank? I crept out of my hut, looking around. I turned to the left of me, and a glowing light emitted from just behind my hut. I felt morbidly curious, but also hesitant.

I slowly inched my way to the light source, walking into my backyard. A luminescent stag sat quietly in the backyard, facing me as if he expected me. He stared right at me with deep purple, glowing eyes. I felt a slight surge in my heartbeat, my body felt numb.

"Hello?" I called timidly, staying in my spot. He didn't respond, only staring me down further. He didn't seem to blink either, only stare. I inched closer,

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice broke.

The deer smiled, saying nothing. He slowly stood up, and approached me, continuing to stare me down. I was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable now, I instinctively inched back a few paces. His body glowed an eerie pink color. His fur was a pale beige, and purple stripes ran down his back. His crown of antlers was a bright, luminescent magenta. However, his most prominent feature was by far his ghostly eyes. The eye whites were a deep purple, and his pupils were a piercing, glowing pink. His eyes seemed more like portals into the soul, peering into my soul no less. He gestured to me to follow him. He began walking down the dirt path, I felt entranced by his mysterious aura.

"I still don't know your name," I said.

He stopped, and slowly faced me,

"Albern Reh."

Chapter 4, mysterious visit

A mysterious visit...

I've never seen a deer like him before. I felt a slight unease as he constantly peered into my eyes, but also... a strange sense of understanding, like he empathized with me. We walked together silently into an abandoned hut not too far away from my home,

"Where are we going?" I asked. He didn't answer, and he continued walking. I still followed him as my curiosity bested me. Upon entering, the hut was dark and deprived of light. Albern Reh lit the room with his magical antlers. His eyes glowed an eerie pink. I found a seat, facing him. He wore a slight smile as he continued directing his gaze in my direction.

"I have been wanting to visit you for much time..." His voice sounded soft, ghostly, yet wise,

"I have watched from afar, I have observed," he paused for a moment, "I know."

I looked away from him, my heart felt hasty,

"Know what?" I asked softly. I felt his looming presence as each minute went by. He paused for a moment, gazing at the ground momentarily before he faced me again,

"Of your pain."

I said nothing. I've never seen this deer before. What did he want from me? What did he see? I said nothing, staring back at him, trying to see if I could catch a blink at some point.

"I have come for two reasons, little deer," Reh said. I didn't appreciate his use of "little deer" too much, but I held in my frustration and gestured to him to keep talking.

"I must warn you of an impending Timber Wolf attack," he started,

"I've warned many deer by now, at least a hundred. I do not know of their whereabouts, but I hope they've listened. Some didn't."

"May I ask why you're doing this?" I asked.

Reh nodded slowly, almost empathizing with my question,

"Our race had hid away during the Great Pony-Deer war."

I said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"At the same time, we have abandoned your deer-kind amidst the war. The link between your deer and our deer had severed."

He stood up, I flinched. He walked past me and gazed out the window, the dim, blue-tinted moonlight shined through the window, and onto his ghostly, pale face,

"Since then, our race had shared an immense guilt upon abandoning your deer. So, in turn, we vowed to watch over your kind, to protect them, to try and help them."

I faced him. My uneasiness never lessened, but I tried not to think about it as I tried to listen to him. He faced me again. The moonlight reflected on his face in such a way that only a few facial features were discernible. Of course, his glowing, piercing eyes remained just as bright. They almost appeared to be floating by themselves in the darkness,

"So... is that it? You're just warning me about a wolf attack?" I asked,

"I'm... quite aware of them, I don't really need your warning,"

He nodded, shutting his eyes, slowly returning back to his seat in silence. When he opened them again, I almost gained whiplash from the juxtaposition of his piercing eyes to the dark room.

"Twenty of your tribes had been... exterminated... by timber wolves," he said. I sensed a slight bit of annoyance in his tone of voice, but It could have just been in my mind.

"All that remains in those tribes are... left overs, if you will," his voice got shakier,

"I warned all of them."

I heard him sigh, and I thought I could catch a glint of a tear trailing down his pale face. But, perhaps it was just the moonlight shining on his face again,

"Do you know why they are here?" he asked softly.

I was confused by the question, "what do you mean 'they'"?

He paused for a moment, and continued to speak,

"The wolves were brought intentionally, my deer."

"Well... yes... but they were brought on accident," I started,

"Ponies brought them here, because they thought this was the Everfree Forest."

Reh remained silent for a moment. He slowly shook his head in disagreement,

"The ponies must have convinced your kind to grasp on a truth... that... in itself couldn't be farther from the truth." He stood up, sighing as he turned his rear at me. I felt like I could breathe again as the ghostly shimmer of his magenta eyes let go of my focus. I glanced at the floor, then, I faced him... or his rear. He looked over his shoulder, his magenta eyes got a hold of me again, this time, I felt my eyelids open against my will,

"They must have told you their truth," Reh turned around, still maintaining eye contact with me as he approached me. I felt myself stand up involuntarily. My legs stiffened in one spot. The bright light impaired my vision, I felt my body grow numb, I felt my eyes burn, I felt my heart pound in a quick tempo. I tried to speak, but my mouth refused to move,

"Your race won the war."

I could only hear his voice in an endless, burning, pink void.

"Your race won their land back."

"The ponies even signed a treaty, encouraged by the Princess of the Sun."

"But, many moons later, the ponies continued to grow in numbers."

"They expanded outward, colonizing further. Eventually, they would build a large, ever-growing system of railroads. They connected their pony establishments to one another, cutting the trees, shrinking the forests."

"In actuality, you never won."

"I know of the steam-carts. I know of the wolves. They spread like a plague throughout your land, to lower your numbers. Just to make it easier... for them..."

"It is no mistake that the wolves are here, my deer. The only mistake is what your race chose to believe for all of this time."

I returned... from... wherever that was. My eyes still burned, they felt singed, worn out. I felt my breath fatigued, my legs felt wobbly, I crouched down. I still felt a numbness in my soul. I darted around, where was he? He left, he's gone. I need to breathe. I need to shut my eyes. I need to breathe. I feel my eyes burn as tears stream down. I cough, I sob. I need to breathe. I'm covering my eyes, What he said isn't true. It isn't, I need to breathe. Instead, I'm sobbing. Why am I sobbing if it's untrue? My stomach feels raw, I need to breathe, I want to sleep. I want to breathe.

Chapter 5

Chapter 5...

I woke up in my bed. The events of last night still lingered in my mind. I slowly sat up, and I stumbled to my hooves and approached the front door, I wanted to visit Reed.

I knocked on his door slowly and gently. No response, I knocked harder, I heard him yelling "one sec" from the opposite end of the house. Shortly after, he creaked open the door. His face changed upon realizing that it was me,

"May I help you?" he asked in a nasty tone. I sighed,

"Hey, uh..." I started, "I'm.. sorry about yesterday," I muttered.

"You're sorry, huh? For helping a horse?"

"Reed. Please. It was a mistake... I- I shouldn't have trusted her."

"Well well well, look who finally grew some brains!" Reed shouted, walking inside without me. I, instinctively, followed him.

________________________________

"Cinnamon Cinnamon Cinnamon," Reed tsked. I simply stared back. He sighed as he plopped his haunches onto his chair,

"A mistake like that would make most deer unfriend you." Reed stood up again and headed to his bookshelf, picking a volume of, "Equestria's Demise" to indulge in. I still remained silent. I watched him carefully as he picked his book. I found myself glancing at his rear admittedly too many times, and I sweeped my glance away from him just as he made his way back to his seat.

"Maybe this will help," Reed said, pointing his hoof at the large book. He plopped it onto the table and flipped open a page, reading to himself silently. I silently glanced at him, then at the surface of the table, then back at him. It almost became a repetitive cycle. I wanted to break the silence, so... I spoke about what I saw last night. He shut the book carefully, laying it on the table, all the while maintaining a deep, shocked stare in my direction. Then, he nodded, shutting his eyes, as if he knew it all along. After a minute, I thought he would just continue reading his book in silence,

"Let me ask you something," he started. His voice startled me.

"yeah?"

"When you helped that pony, did you feel good about yourself?"

"Reed..." I knew where he was going, "Reed come on, I-"

"What?" He sprung up, "What? A-Are you gonna tell me that 'oh, but she's different! She's different'! B-Because, let me tell you this alright?" He leaned on the table, his front legs were as straight as poles as they pushed down on the wooden surface,

"They are all the same, Cinnamon. They are all the same."

I said nothing.

"They all w-wanna manipulate, and rule, and conquer!-"

"Okay? And? I-I'm pretty sure we've done that too at some point," I blurted out. The words escaped my tongue before I could think about them.

"Oh? Oh?" Reed's eyes widened as he pretended to be shocked, "OH Really?? Because l-last I checked, THEY are the ones that conquer! WE are the ones that succumb to THEM-!" He pointed to his left as if a pony was standing right beside him.

"Reed, you are talking about a whole race of ungulates. I..." I wanted to make a point, "I'm doubtful that every pony that has walked on Equestrian soil is irredeemable... or insensitive."

"And that's what your father said," he muttered. My ears flicked. I stared at him as I prepared to speak.

"No no, don't act surprised. You know. You know dang well what that stag has done to you. H-He abandoned you for them! He abandoned you for ponies! Ponies! How does that make you feel, huh? Huh? He abandoned you and your mother! A-And now she's dead-"

"Reed," I took a deep breath, "Shut up."

He paused for a moment, an expression of bewilderment swept his gaze,

"Shut up? Oh I'm so sorry! But guess what?? It's the truth-"

"Be quiet!" I boomed, slamming the table with my hoof. Reed said nothing, I don't know for how long, though. A minute, ten minutes, a day. He glared at me, I added one final utterance... "please..."

Reed's face changed, and he slumped back, sitting back on his chair. He began to giggle, shaking his head from side to side. I said nothing, I did nothing. I just glared at him. Reed sprung up from his chair and trotted into the kitchen. My face softened, and I simply peered down at the wooden surface of the table. I placed my head gently onto its surface. It was cold and unforgiving.

I could vaguely hear Reed yelling at his grandmother in the kitchen. a few minutes later, he returned to the table. He stopped for a moment, still registering that I was still sitting at the table, then slowly made his way to his seat. He sighed as he watched me. I could sense his gaze, his unapproving, disappointed gaze. I heard a page flip, and I assumed that Reed had opened up "Equestria's Demise" to read up on ponies. I never understood why he wanted to know so much about them, if he hated them so much. I stood up from me seat, "I need to go," I muttered under my breath. Reed nodded, not passing a glance at me whatsoever. I turned my rear and left the hut.

"See you around..." I heard him say in a subdued manner. I didn't turn back.

I saw the sun vanish behind the tree-line, and the breeze gained a chill to it. I pranced adjacent to the gentle brook, the trickling of its pure, crystalline watercaught the attention of my pointed ears, pulling them toward the noise.

As I approached my hut, I could see two deer neighbors conversing. I recognized them. It was Maple-Blade and Rising Bud. The deer couple that lived next door.

I paused in my tracks, and watched from a distance. Maple-Blade, the stag, appeared to speak with haste about something. I could barely make out what he was saying, but I thought I could hear "Just leave her," and, "They're coming."

Rising Bud's response didn't seem to make the situation any better. She appeared to have been shaking during the whole conversation, and I thought I could hear a forced sob. I slowly opened my door and entered my hut, in hopes that they would not notice me.

I slowly made my way to my straw bed. I skipped dinner again, and I felt not a smudge of hunger.

I sunk into the bed. A yawn came of me. I turned over, trying to find a comfortable spot. My body shivered. I anticipated the next train, but it didn't seem to come. I slowly sat up in my bed, the crickets were the only sound audible from outside. I tried to be in-tune with them, their soft chatters and murmurs into the night. But then, I heard another sound, barely noticeable amidst the continuous hum of the crickets, a howl.

I remained seated, still listening to the crickets. I dismissed the sound as merely a wisp of wind. Then, another howl followed. I felt a shiver in my body. My ear twitched, almost pulling away from my head as it aimed at the sound. A third howl followed.

I got up from my straw bed, still facing the window. I felt cold. Another howl followed, much louder than the preceding. I slowly crept out my room, the cricket noises diminished as I stepped away from my window, but the howls did not.

I froze. In the middle of my hut. I glanced to my left, my bed, the window, a howl. To the right, a few unfinished woven baskets, another window, and another distant howl. This time, they were accompanied by an accompaniment of growls, snarls, and paw steps. They were near.

I heard a few growls and rabid barks, and I scurried to my bed, dropping my silk blanket over my cold body. I shivered, even with the blanket over me. The howls were no longer distant, now they were right outside my window. They're here.

I heard a shrill scream. A visceral shriek. It came from a nearby hut. The barking got louder, and so did the scream. The scream appeared to sound more raspy and agonized with each second. The screams got to my head. I saw the village again. It was happening all over again. The crying yearlings, the screaming parents.

A loud, multi-tone blaring train whistle made me gasp. I was back in my bedroom. I was back under my sheets. The loud, forefront howls and snarls reduced to whimpers, and the whimpers themselves soon reduced into nothingness. The lengthy, drawn out scream of the whistle soon diminished, along with the continuous chugs of the steam engine. And, the crickets remained, like they never left.

I slowly lifted the sheets off my face, then my body. I looked outside, darting my eyes around to every reachable field of view. The "timbers" are gone.

I slowly creaked open my door, I looked around, then to the front of me. I saw a trail of blood. I walked out of my hut, to see the trail of blood lead to a body.

I felt my heart stop. I felt my body numb. Then, I felt my heart pound, and my hooves rushed to her. It was Sap-Joy, now laying on her side, dead.

I stood there. I felt my heart pound. I felt my legs tremble. I stumbled over, my breathing became the only sound I heard… “No…”

"Sap-Joy?" I heard a voice call. It was Reed-Tail. He trembled on his hooves, as he slowly arrived at the scene. Then, he began to bawl. He wailed, screamed, holding Sap-Joy's head. Tears streamed down his face like two, tiny rivers on his cheeks. I held him. His screams got louder, his tears more anguished.

I got up, and I slowly trotted to Sap-Joy's hut. The door was wide open. I found myself looking into her life in that hut. I saw a small table tucked away in the right, and I inched toward it. A letter on a large maple leaf was written,

Reed-Tail, I want you, I feel the need to see you. Will you come? Maybe tomorrow morning for a little chat.
-Sap-Joy

I stared at the words, long after I read them. I stared at the hoof-writing. I stared at her name, the hoof-stamp beside it. I even stared at the color of the leaf for which the letter was written.

I left the hut, my friend still cried her name. I found myself following my legs as they walked into the next hut, the hut of Maple-Blade and Rising Bud.

A part of me wanted to check every hut, to see if every-deer was okay. But that would prove to be challenging, as there were eighty or so huts in our village. Rising Bud's hut was quite spacious compared to Sap-Joy's, especially when looking inside. It even had two straw beds inside.

I scanned around. I looked at the written leaf-scrolls on the walls. Most of them were old poems and mottos in old deerian. I looked to my right, and I saw a wood-stump with the names of Rising Bud and Maple-Blade carved into it, as well as the names of their yearling stag, and an additional one. I looked closer, squinting, "Maple Bud"

I felt a slight feeling of joy envelop me as I saw the name. If I had known that their second fawn was born, I would have given my newly woven basket to them. I could picture them being so happy with their new fawn. Judging by the name, I could assume that she was a doe. I walked outside, observed their garden. The flowers were unkept and wilted. I turned around, and walked to the backyard. I felt my soul fill with pure and sudden dread and distraught as I caught sight of a small dirt pile, slightly raised from the green-grass ground. I inched closer, and a carved stone was gently laid on top, with a name, "Maple Bud."

Chapter 6, feelings

I sat with Reed silently in my hut. For a week, Reed has been visiting me far more frequently than before. Everytime I tried to talk to him about something, he would somehow mold the subject of the conversation into something about Sap-Joy. I wanted him to talk about something else, but at the same time, I couldn't have possibly convinced him to talk about anything else.

Today, I made some tea for him, and, to my surprise, he actually drank it. In fact, he even asked for a few extra cups of it, which was a great change of pace.

I sat across from him, fixing myself my own cup of warm, succulent maple tea. We drank in silence. However, Reed firmly planted his gaze on me for several minutes as he sipped from the cup. Sometimes, I even felt the need to avoid his gaze, and I would look down on my hooves or up at the ceiling.

Then, he said my name in a surprisingly soft tone, "Cinnamon..?"

I froze for a moment, and observed his gaze once more, "yes?" I muttered.

He didn't reply. Instead, he got up, walked toward me and sat right beside me, and... huddled with me. I felt an oncoming blush wash over my cheeks.

Before I knew it, he began caressing his head against my shoulder, nudging me softly. His physical distance from me, which was close to none, felt quite intimate. I leaned over to the top of his head, and noticed a frizzy tuft of hair on his head, and I licked it softly. I felt myself grow tingly and warm upon the gesture. Reed let out a breathy sigh, and I licked his head again, feeling warmer.

Suddenly, Reed gasped and flinched away from my lick, standing up abruptly and facing me in utter shock, his legs as straight as poles. I suddenly felt a wave of humiliation wash over me,

"Reed, I'm sorry..."

"No no," Reed shook his head,

"Please. It- It isn't your fault I-" he bit his lips, unable to finish the sentence. A moment later, and he plopped his haunches onto the ground, and an expression of intense guilt filled his gaze. He suppressed a sob,

"Reed, wait..." I slowly got up and inched closer to him, I tried to wrap my front leg around his back but he flinched away.

"No no... this is so wrong. This is so wrong..." Reed began to break down. I just stood there and watched, because it felt like the only thing I could do with Reed's permission. I even began to feel a little bit of guilt, as well.

"I'm broken..." he murmured,

"I... can't control it..."

"Reed, what are you talking about-" I started.

"Why do I feel this way for you!? How could I ever possibly feel this way for you!?" He bellowed. My ears folded back. Reed let out another sob and wiped his shiny black nose,

"I failed. I'm broken."

"Reed, please, I don't understand-"

"You shouldn't understand! B-Because guess what? You're broken too!" Reed shouted amidst his tears.

"What do you mean we're broken?" I asked.

"Don't you get it!? We're stags! We're..." he trailed off,

"Why do I feel this way every time I plant my eyes on you?" he asked remorsefully,

"Why do I feel this... love... this... fiery... fiery joy??"

I paused for a moment, admittedly, I felt a similar fiery feeling for him. But why? He was right in that we were both stags, but, did that truly matter?

"Maybe it's because... we're meant to be-" I started, the words fell out of my mouth without any thought behind them.

"Don't start with that!" Reed boomed,

"Admit it, Cinnamon! We're incompatible with each other! We- we were born in this world with this body to- to fulfill a purpose!"

"Reed, just because we feel this way for each other, doesn't mean-"

"Doesn't mean what!? I-I'll tell you what it does mean, though! A-And it's that we're... we're broken..." Reed lowered his head and began to sob softly. I couldn't stand seeing him this distressed and upset. First over Sap-Joy, and now over... us.

"Please leave," he grunted.

"Reed, I live here. This is my hut-"

"Fine, I'll leave." Reed promptly sprung up and stormed out of my hut, slamming the door behind him. I was left in my hut alone. I wanted to follow him, to tell him that what he thought was wrong.

We're broken...

Reed has it twisted. I want to tell him that those words weren't true. I wanted to get up and follow him, to berate him on how wrong he was. Then, I wanted to tackle him, and tell him my true feelings for him. But, Instead, I felt myself stuck and confined to my hut, only sitting quietly, and staring blankly at the door.

The only thing I could agree with Reed on was... why I felt this way for him? Why did I feel this way at all? I can even trace it back to my yearling years, where I was never once fascinated by a doe's figure. Instead, I had always found myself staring in the direction of the well-built stags in the village, and, most importantly, to my best friend, Reed-Tail. But, even so, he is scrawny, scruffy, and short. How could I ever... love him?

I always thought of my preferences to be strange and different, but, never would I have ever thought of the word "broken" to describe it, and that is where Reed is wrong.

Chapter 7, again?

again?

Today, I found myself wandering down the dirt path. The brook was beside me, flowing and flowing. I expected to be welcomed by Sap-Joy's body again, but it was gone, what was left was a mere, vacant blood stain. Reed must have taken her some place to bury her. I shuddered.

A few minutes later, and my questions were answered. A large dirt pile with a wooden steak coming out of it was placed conveniently beside two large oak trees. The trees almost appeared to be guards of the grave. I kneeled for a moment, touching the pile with my front hoof. The falling oak leaves landed everywhere, from my hoof, to my head. I got up, sighed, then left.

I remembered that mysterious deer, what he said about the "timbers". If they were truly brought here to lower our numbers... then the ponies are doing a good job.

"They must have told you their truth..."

"You never won."

"The only mistake is what you chose to believe."

"Angel?" a voice called. I jumped. (I need to stop doing that) I turned my head to the call, it was Fluttershy. The pegasus. I said nothing and simply watched her. She didn't seem to notice me yet. She was looking for her pet rabbit again.

"The only mistake is what you chose to believe..."

"Hey," I called.

"Oh..." she turned her head, flicking her pink, flowing tail. She smiled upon seeing me, "H-Hi..." I narrowed the distance between us, I glared.

"Is... Something wrong..?" She asked in a soft, timid voice, inching away slightly. My glare inevitably softened. I just stared, she stared back. I sighed and shook my head,

"No... Nothing's wrong."

"Oh... okay..." She nodded, and she resumed looking for her pet.

"Listen," I started. She faced me again.

"You... shouldn't be here."

"...oh..." she muttered, "I'm... sorry..."

"It's okay... I know you ponies think you have power over this land," my words reduced to mumbling. She paused, her eyes opened wide. I sensed myself talking like Reed.

"Oh... well, I-..." She trailed off. I simply stared at her. She avoided my eyes. I sighed again. She turned her head, calling for her pet rabbit again. She began to hover from the ground with her yellow wings, calling him again. I just watched this pony. I felt a slight guilt. I brushed it off,

"You should get going soon... for your own sake."

I grew increasingly aware that my tone and choice of words may have seemed a little... ominous. She began to call for Angel louder. Soon, the rabbit in question poked his head out from the bush he hid in. He hopped toward Fluttershy, gave me one glance, stuck out his tongue, and leaped onto the yellow pony's back. She prepared to fly away,

"Wait," I held out my hoof.

She paused in mid-air, turning over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I sighed.

"It's okay... I... won't intrude anymore-"

"No. Please," I said, "Forget what I said."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You can stay."

_______________________________

Driven by my own guilt and kindness, I let the yellow pegasus with her rabbit follow me to my hut. I gave her the option to leave as we headed to my hut, but she said nothing and only continued walking with me. When we arrived, I treated her to some maple tea. Angel, the rabbit, spat the drink upon the first sip. I guess he was as a little picky.

"Angel, how rude," Fluttershy glared. Angel crossed his tiny, furry arms and looked away.

"I assume he is hard to manage," I said with a slight chuckle. Fluttershy sighed, and faced me. Her bright turquoise eyes glimmered with the afternoon light from my window. She was silent most of the time, but sometimes would pass me glances and awkward smiles. It was a very strange, almost surreal experience. She didn't seem like she knew what to say, but still wanted to spend time with me.

She looked down at the floor for a moment,

"So, the... the trees are... very... pretty now. I, uh, like the maples..."

"I agree," I added.

She sipped her tea silently, and swallowed in a delicate fashion. I looked at her for a moment, and I noticed something strange on her flank. She appeared to have an intricate butterfly design on each thigh, and she seemed to notice my gaze.

"Oh, are... you looking at my cutie mark?" she asked. I nodded,

"I apologize," I muttered, directing my gaze away.

"A-Actually... I... wanted to ask about your cutie mark," she started, pointing at my flank.

"Well... first I would like to know what a "cutie mark" is," I said.

"Oh," Fluttershy darted her eyes around,

"Well, it's a pony thing... and... well, y-you get one when you... do something you... like."

Slightly unconvinced, I asked for something a little more specific, all she added on was "They just magically appear."

"So, uh, why don't you have one?" she finally asked. I turned my head and looked at my blank hind quarters for an answer,

"Well, I'm not sure," I started,

"I've never heard of cutie marks before. I guess that's because us deer don't have them."

She nodded silently, then sipped from her tea cup again, darting her eyes around.

I just glanced at her, then at the ground. I couldn't help but be taken aback by the question. I was never aware that ponies revolved their society around... butt marks...

It seemed like a novelty to me. Is it like their onset of maturity? Is it a part of their physical development? Are they passed down through family? My mind spun around an endless onslaught of questions, and I wasn't sure if Fluttershy was the right one to answer them. I took a sip from my tea cup and continued sitting with her in silence. After a few minutes, I felt the need to speak again for the mere sake of conversation,

"So, I know we've met before," I started, she nodded,

"But, if you don't mind, can you tell me a little more about yourself?"

"Oh," she replied.

"W-Well, I... uh, I like, uh, caring for animals. T-That's what my... my cutie mark represents... kinda," She said,

"Also, I love taking nature walks. S-Sometimes, caring for animals can be a little stressful," She chirped softly,

"And, they help me unwind. T-They help Angel unwind too. He's... he can get pretty active."

I nodded,

"Do other ponies join you on these walks?" I asked. She shook her head,

"No... b-but... Applejack... one of my best friends- she likes nature, too..."

This pegasus, once again, impressed me. The way she talked, the way she carried herself. How could she have been a pony, anyway? She seemed like a deer in a pony's body.

Eventually, night had fallen. We treated ourselves to more tea in silence for some time. Occasionally, we would also pass small glances and smiles, with a little bit of small talk as well. Soon, the yellow pegasus was on her way out, her rabbit Angel was fast asleep on her back,

"T-Thank you for... having me," her soft voice still maintained a ghostly hum to it.

"You should head home, and quick," I said.

She spread her wings and flew away upon my words. Afterwards, I found myself sitting in the middle of my hut in silence, thinking about what I have just witnessed.

She didn't seem like the social type, and she certainly had nothing interesting to talk about. But regardless, she seemed fascinated by me, as much as I admittedly was with her. Upon each other's presence, there was no hate or tension whatsoever, and, I'd even say that I was... for the most part, relatively comfortable within that pony's presence.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9...

Today marks the first snow-fall of the year. The autumn colors of bright, fiery orange and neon red have all dissipated, now giving way for the white flurries.

Today, I thought extensively about my mother. I thought extensively about Swirling River. I sobbed to myself the whole morning. Not a single thought of breakfast passed my mind. I stared out my window, watching the flurries fall down in organized fashion as a quiet, chilly breeze brushed through the tree branches.

Today marks the day of my one true discovery about my father. Not only did he sell his soul and well-being to the ponies and abandon my tribe afterwards, but also took the life of my mother in cold blood.

Today, I learned something more about myself. That I am gullible, pliable, moldable. I have been convinced for twenty years that the timber wolves were the enemy, when instead it was my own father all along.

Today marks the day that I can no longer even trust my own kind. Where has the joy gone? Where has the love gone? The love and care for each other? The love for family? The love and friendship that kept us all together?

Today, I look out the window, I see Reed’s house right across the path. I get up, my hooves know my deepest feelings more than I do, and I follow them to the next destination.

Today, I visited his hut. I knocked on the door. I expected him to shout “one sec” from across the hut again. But, there was no call, no stir. Nothing. I knocked again, harder. Nothing at all. Was he out somewhere?

I knocked several more times. It got to a point that my hoof got sore from all the knocking. I sighed slowly at my failed attempt. I knew that it was ultimately useless to try and make it up to him at this point, he would just berate me again about how we, as stags, must procreate with does, and does only. Then, I tried opening the door, and it was unlocked.

A feeling of deep apprehension filled my soul all at once. An unlocked door meant a vacant hut. I felt myself hover around the empty hut like a ghostly figure spectating from another life. It felt like I was merely peering through a window… nothing felt real.

I looked around, to my left was an unprepared fire-pit. In the center lay a round dining table. Just behind it, Reed’s bookshelf, now empty of all its books about the fall of Equestria. To my right, a small pile of my woven baskets… the countless baskets I had given him throughout the years of our friendship. Whether for his birthday, or for just the sake of it. They were the only things left behind.

By now, I had expected Reed to come out and greet me with a plate of his grandmother’s wonderful cooking. I had expected Reed to come out by now and rant endlessly about… something… anything. I had expected him to come out of his hiding spot by now, I had expected his grandmother to do the same. Instead, I found myself standing in the room of a vacant, hollow hut, now, no different from every other hut that was left in this village.

I slowly entered the next room, the kitchen. All of the pots had been taken. All that remained was a small table. On the table laid a note. The hoof-writing was barely legible, and a few stains of what I assume to be water adorned the off-white sheet of paper, which in itself was a torn page from “Equestria’s Demise”,

Deer Cinnamon,
I am writing this because I have left the village. Me and my grandmother are only taking our most important things along.
I will be honest, the number one thing that kept me in this village was her… Sap-Joy. At one point I felt a guilt for feeling entranced by a member of my own blood, but she and I both knew that there wasn’t much left we could do… for us…
You, Cinnamon, were great. You are great. You are my best friend and I will forever cherish that. You are the one that understood me the most throughout my forty-two and-a-half years of living in this world. Sometimes… I even looked up to you when things became tough.
At this age, though, I feel like I must move on. Simply put, I have entered a new chapter in my life, and I will continue on my journey to be with and love the next doe I can cross paths with.
She and I will hold hooves, she and I will boop noses, she and I will make love! She and I will cherish each other for eternity, and create the next healthy generation. I am hopeful that I will be given another chance to save our race, and perhaps start a new chapter in the health of our WhiteTail Tribe.

I had left four hours ago, and I will not provide where I am. Not because I am trying to avoid you, but because I am trying to avoid such an awful mistake that you and I had made. These feelings I feel toward you are not natural… I cannot accept them as such, even if my body tends to say otherwise. Therefore, I shall lead a new path, and me and the next doe will live until a ripe, old age. And we’ll watch our children have children of their own, and so on.
I encourage you to do the same. I encourage you to find a cherish a beautiful doe. I encourage you to start, or rather, to continue the forever-spanning lineage of your wonderful family.
Goodbye, Swirly. My friend forever and even beyond life.

-Reed-Tail

I cycled through the letter a second time.

Then a third time.

Then a fourth time.

“Reed…” This… isn’t a real letter. This isn’t. But… it’s in his hoof-writing…

“Reed…” I’m sobbing, holding the letter… to my face.

“Reed… please… please…”

“You… should’ve just told me… you should’ve just told me…”

“I told you… we’re not-”

“We’re not broken.”

“WE’RE NOT BROKEN!”

I stormed out of the hut, I landed onto the white snow. I smothered my snout into the cold snow. It stuck to my face as my hot tears melted it away. The coldness that shivered through my body shot through me in waves. A gust of wind signaled an impending blizzard. I sobbed harder as if to beg the world for mercy. The trees warped to the wind so much that they appeared to dance freely amidst the gusts. Another gust of wind followed, this time it rocked my body back and forth as another brutal jolt of pure, jagged coldness shot down my spine.

The wind roared angrily through the trees, tree branches fell near and around me. I lifted up my head, the snow particles were whirling around me like they were fascinated by me. I screamed. I sobbed at the falling snow.

I rose up and went full throttle into a gallop down the snow path. My hooves felt light, they felt warm within the ice. I felt free for a moment, I stuck my tongue out and licked the falling snow particles from the air. I kept galloping. I kept sobbing. By now, I passed all the huts, and I found myself galloping deep and far into the thicket of the woods. The wind began to gust with such power that it slowed my gallop. My legs felt deeply sore, and I stumbled over. I bit my tongue whilst hitting the ground with my bottom jaw. My sob morphed into a soft laugh. I just laid there, my body went from feeling extremely cold to soft and warm. I felt myself fade away, I felt everything around me fade away as well. For a moment, I thought I could hear a cold neigh from the sky.

Chapter 10

chapter 10

...

I'm... awake.

...

My body feels a rush of warmth.

I open my eyes, I am no longer surrounded by a blizzard.

My body gains feeling again. I find myself wrapped within a soft, silk robe.

"Don't be afraid..."

"Just rest your head."

____________________________________________

My body woke up before my mind did. I found myself sitting up in... a bed... certainly not mine. I look around, my vision is still blurry. I try lifting a leg, but it seemed to be limp, barely awake. Suddenly, an utterance made me jump slightly, it came from my right.

"What you have done was very stupid," He said. It was Albern Reh.

"Reh..?" I croaked under my breath. I choked up a cough.

"The windigos almost got to you," he said. He and his piercing magenta eyes slowly approached me and sat down carefully, right beside me and the bed. I scratched my eyes and suppressed a yawn, "huh..?"

"Windigos. They are a notorious species," he started. I could only understand a few of his words, as my hearing still mainly consisted of high-pitched ringing. I said nothing, just turning my head and laying back down.

"They feed off of an ungulate's hatred. The moment they sense it, they hunt for it."

I didn't follow, I just yawned again and tucked my head into the bed. I winced and turned to him, still layingo n my side,

"Why did they come for me..?"

His face changed, and he shut his eyes.

"How am I hateful?" I asked again, my voice raised up in volume.

He slowly got up and walked into the other room, seeming to dismiss my question.

"Hey, wait," I called. I coughed again and tried to satisfy a tickle in my throat. In short notice, I heard the soft steps of his hooves get closer as he returned with a large book clamped in his thin muzzle. He sat down, and I squinted at the title of the book, "Equestria's Demise." He gently laid it down beside me. I... don't understand. I never read this book. I only knew of it because of Reed-Tail. I knew of it because of his meandering rants about pony-kind.

"Hate is not confined to one soul, you see. It spreads. It almost leaks from one soul to the next like a spreading disease."

I said nothing.

"The deer you have surrounded yourself with had caused you to gain some hatred yourself."

I struggled to sit up, and I ended up plopping onto my bed again. I groaned,

"Who sent these "windigos" anyway? The ponies?"

Reh sighed and looked out the window for a moment. I did the same, and I saw the turbulent, white snow particles flying through the woods.

"That's exactly it," he said,

"Your undeniably large grudge against the pony race, and everything they sought after."

"The ponies deserved to be hated," I grumbled. Reh hushed me,

"Quiet. The windigos are more than capable of hearing us through these walls. And... knocking them down no less-"

"The windigos can lick my rear!" I shouted. I burried myself into the bed again. Reh sighed in disapproval,

"There is one more thing that causes you immense hatred," he started,

"Your father. Swirling River of the White-Tails."

"What do you know about my father?" I hissed.

"Many things," he replied.

"That he once sought to be the greatest White-Tail leader Equestra has ever known. That he always wanted to be the best in everything he did. Soon, he got his wish, but he also earned a great deal of envy."

"Yeah. I know. He likes ponies," I muttered.

"That is not all," Reh started,

"He wanted to spread his lineage for generations. He wanted countless offspring to carry the mantle for him. He saw all of the other deer leaders and their endless offspring, their healthy lineages, according to him. Of course, he only had one. You. Primarily because your mother was... let's just say, infertile."

I rose up from my bed, baffled,

"How do you know all of this?"

He seemed to ignore my question, and prepared to speak again,

"He was livid. He associated himself less and less with deer-kind, abandoning his position as leader. He soon discovered the pony race and their mind-blowing innovations, and clung onto them as a desperate way to forget his deer roots. And to forget about you and your mother. That is why he abandoned the tribe when the timberwolves arrived for the first time. He left the village in the dust, as well as leaving you behind, while also engaging in an act of pure anger and violence upon your mother that cannot be overlooked by any-deer with a shroud of morality."

I stared blankly at Reh as he spoke, and he stared at me back with his bright pink eyes. And, like usual, he never blinked once.

"Your father's hatred for your mother led to your hatred for him. It also, undoubtedly led to your hatred for ponies... and, well, those two elements combined create just the right amount of hatred in your soul for the windigos to feast."

"I have every right to hate him," I said,

"He is unforgivable."

"Perhaps. But let that be a lesson for you to not end up like your father," Reh replied calmly.

____________________________________________

About an hour had past and the blizzard began to dissipate. I got to rest my head for that time, and I even slept for a while.

I woke up again, and I expected Albern Reh to leave me like he did the last time. But, to my surprise, he returned into the room with a tray in his mouth. He sat down and set the tray beside me on a small table that up until this point I had not noticed at all. The tray had several highly detailed frosted cookies, seemingly fresh and still warm. I eyed them for a moment, my stomach grumbled.

"The first step to alleviating hatred is to indulge in the very thing you hate."

I said nothing.

"These are freshly baked Hearth's Warming cookies. Baked by a pony, and made and inspired by pony tradition."

I observed the designs. One appeared to be a brown cottage, its roof adorned with white frosting. Next to it was in the shape of a red and white-striped cane. each and every cookie on the tray had a different shape, not one looked the same as the other.

"Well, enjoy," Reh smiled. I simply glared back. I picked up a random cookie from the tray with my hesitant hoof, and plopped it whole into my mouth. THe extremely sweet frosting and shortbread mixed together overstimulated my taste buds, and I swallowed quickly. With the cookie, I felt myself swallow an additional pile of guilt.

"The mare who treated me with these cookies commented on my antlers. She said it was a nice hat."

"That's because she's ignorant," I muttered. Reh nodded,

"Perhaps. But, even so, her energy was quite charming... she seemed very bright and joyful and welcoming."

I said nothing, and I bit into another cookie. Small crumbs landed on my bed as I chewed the overly sweet treat.

"You seem to be enjoying these pony cookies," he teased lightly.

"I'm hungry. It doesn't mean I enjoy them," I grunted to myself.

"But you are eating them nonetheless, therefore supporting the pony-run bakery that provided you with the cookies."

I said nothing again. I swallowed the cookie quickly and tried my best to not taste the sweetness of the frosting. I rolled over on my bed and sighed. Reh sighed too,

"The pink mare was,according to her, quite new to baking. What I assume to be her parents were there helping her out-"

"Okay. What's this all about, hm? I'm eating the dang cookies okay? I don't care about this pink pony you talk about. Now leave me alone."

Reh said nothing. He slowly grabbed "Equestria's Demise" with his front hooves, opening a random page. I observed him momentarily as he eyed down the pages with his piercing magenta eyes. Then, he passed me a glance, then observed the book again. I grumbled and tried shutting my eyes, my stomach still felt deprived of food, but I would rather starve than to indulge in pony food.

"This book is... fascinating," he said softly, trailing off. He flipped a page, and seemed to be taken aback by something, giving the page a quizzical yet disapproving glance,

"This book has got it all wrong," he muttered,

"It blames the Princess of the Sun for the numerous wars." Reh carefully lifted the cover and shut the book, all the while eyeing me down,

"The Princess tried to prevent these wars... both of them..."

I raised an eyebrow, "both?" I asked. He nodded,

"The Princess of the Sun and her sister, the Princess of the Moon. They are known as Celestia and Luna respectively."

I said nothing, only listening to Reh's soft voice as I sunk into my bed again,

"A millenium ago, Luna was casted to the moon upon the envy for her sister. Old pony legend states that the ponies and other creatures of Equestria would celebrate the day, and sleep at night. The night would earn a negative reputation over time, that of darkness and evil. All of those elements caused Luna to snap, becoming envious, rebelious, defiant, and evil..." Reh paused for a second,

"Celestia had to act fast. Luna brought about terror and fear amongst the ponies, and so, Celestia banished her for good. Alas, that led into an age of discourse and despair which we still live today. There was a reason why two sisters ruled Equestria."

"After Luna's banishment, the ponies began to grow exponentially in population. What started out as one single village soon became a giant empire of ponies all throughout the land. They began to defy Princess Celestia, no longer putting their faith into her. Soon, they grew in such unstable numbers that they began to grow greedy for more land, thus, the Cattle-Pony war, the Great Buffalo War, and the decline of Deer and Kirin. At the same time, Kirin rampaged several small Pony villages, killing many young fillies and colts to "stop the next generation". Dragons became hostile and greedy and burned many pony establishments to the ground, and covered the skies with thick, black smog. Nearly every race of ungulate was at war with each other, finding numerous ways to kill each other off. Because of Celestia's struggles to maintain Equestria, it practically crumbled onto itself. Harmony became disharmony, and the land was soon covered by a perpetual darkness."

I laid in silence and looked up at Reh. He looked down on me like he had for the past half-hour. He shut his eyes and let out a slow exhale from his nostrils as he slowly rose to his hooves,

"Do not get it twisted, though. This all happened many centuries ago. While it is true that the effects of these things linger, the times have changed... mostly for the better."

"But it did happen," I said back.

"Yes, but the young ponies are not responsible for what their ancestors had caused."

I said nothing, shutting my eyes. A part of me wanted to agree with Reh, and I tried to suppress that part of me as much as I could. I turned over with my back facing Reh, I wasn't even sure if he was still there, but then he spoke again,

"The pink mare that has given me these cookies, as well as all of the new, young ponies growing up today are not to blame for the past. In fact, they wish to change their past, to make up for it."

"What's there to change? The damage has been done already," I grumbled.

"But not by them. That is what you must realize."

I was in silence again. I tried to ignore his point, but then I remember leaving Swirling River's house to see that farmer pony, Applejack, how she lended a helping hoof to the poor ponies in that village. How she lended a helping hoof to a cattle family, and how joyful that family was after her help. I recall Fluttershy's friendliness, her calm, timid quality in all of our interactions... A part of me wants to believe that there are many Applejack's and Fluttershy's out there, but can I be so sure?

"Visit her again," he said.

I faced him and raised an eyebrow.

"Visit Fluttershy," he said again,

"and tell her the truth."

____________________________________________

I left the hut with Albern Reh. The blizzard and the windigos had vanished already, and all that remained was a thick layer of snow on the ground, and a white outline on all of the tree branches. We walked down the completely empty village. We walked past Rising Bud's and Maple Blade's hut. We walked past Sap Joy's hut. We walked past Reed-Tails' hut. Each and every one as empty and desolate as the next.

I looked over my shoulder, Albern Reh continued to look me down, like I had something on my face. I looked down on the pure white snow, I felt its warm coldness underneath my hooves. I felt a soft, chilly breeze caress my fur coat. I also felt the presence of something... particularly everytime I walked down this path. Perhaps the spirits of the deer that once walked the same path I walk, that ate the same leaves I eat, the ones that spread a joy throughout the village. A joy that now I no longer feel. I feel like they took their joy into the afterlife, and I am now left in a world of misery.

"I shall not interject any further," Reh said softly from behind. I looked at him,

"Must you leave?" I asked.

"I will return. But, do what you must do first."

I nodded in an unsure manner, and I looked down the continuous, snow-covered path. I began to walk away from Albern Reh, and I didn't turn back. I just kept walking.

I do not know for how long I walked. The scenery barely changed, but when it did, I took note of it briefly before returning back into endless thought.

After a while, I felt helpless, but also tricked. I found myself in the middle of a part of the thicket that I was not familiar with.

I turned back and observed the same scenery all around me. Trees, more trees, and snow. I sighed in apparent defeat as I tried to find my way back. Soon, I heard a voice. Her voice,

"Cinnamon?"

I saw a yellow pegasus stare me down a few paces away. Her bright yellow fur was a bright contrast from the white snow,

"Fluttershy..." I said under my breath. I inched up to her and she smiled lightly,

"I... didn't expect to see you...here..."

____________________________________________

Fluttershy and I headed back to my hut. She, at one point, pointed out how quiet it was in the village. I told her that my friends and family once lived in those huts, and she then asked of their current situations. The truth is, I do not know. I do not know where Reed-Tail is, I do not know where Swirling River and Succulent Cinnamon will live now. I don't know the future of Rising Bud's and Maple Blade's relationship. What I did know, however, is what I experienced upon their leave, so, that is what I spoke about.

And, she would become the first pony to hear my story. The first pony to ... empathize with me. And, in such an immense level, that I felt a pity for her, as she felt an overwhelming pity for me. After I had finished explaining, I did not expect any form of remorse to arise from her, and right in that moment I had been proven wrong. She clung onto my hoof with her's as she wept continuously, her body shaking so much that I felt my hoof vibrate from within her grasp.

______________________________________

That experience... told me something. It told me that, as much as I am afraid to admit it, Reh was right. And it also seemed that nearly everything he spoke was of undeniable truth.

However, I like to believe that I also carry my own truth. Particularly the one that I have experienced throughout my life. And as much as that yellow pegasus may have wept for me, none of her weeping could change my life and the errors of her kind.

Does that mean that I still carry hatred for the entirety of their race? Perhaps not.

I still feel indifferent about many things. Particularly weak-links in my own family lineage, and certain deer that share my blood.

But perhaps, I can shift my hatred to just that, rather than to project it onto an entire race of separate ungulates, who grew and developed in their own way, and never grew a personal hatred towards me.

It must be an impersonal hatred then, one casted onto our whole race.

I will never forgive them for their introduction of Timbers in the area, nor the disregard for our homeland upon the creation of their metallic steam-carts. But at the same time, Fluttershy's new generation of ponies are not the ones who did these things. Not even their parents are held accountable.

I don't feel like casting that blame onto that yellow pegasus, or the kind apple farmer, or that pink mare. Perhaps there are others like them. And, I can only hope that I’m right.

I also hope that this story will eventually be told to the young ponies, because perhaps it will awaken something within them. Maybe Fluttershy will tell her friends about what I told her.

Perhaps then, they will seek ways to unite the world. Perhaps they will preach friendship and harmony. Of course, I can only hope for these things, however. I have no power to motivate an entire race to undo their wrong-doings, and they will have to learn to do it on their own. They would have to learn about my story, and the story of the white-tail deer.

I’m sitting in my hut today. I look out the window and see white flurries falling continuously from the milky-white sky. I approach the window slowly in silence, and just past a few trees ahead, I see Reh, staring at me down from the distance with a big smile on his face.

I open the door and I try to approach him, eyes fixed on him. I trip on something. I see a small little gift box at my hooves, and I pick it up and take it inside. Attached to it is a letter, signed by Fluttershy,

Happy Hearth's Warming! I didn't know what exactly to give you, but I hope you like it. I told my parents about you, and they also wanted to apologize for what ponies did in the past. I'm gonna go hang out with Applejack and Pinkie Pie today. Some of my other friends might come but I'm not sure. Oh, and actually, Applejack told me that she saw a deer just outside of Ponyville, and when I asked her who it was, she said it was a "Cinnamon fella", so I guess that's you. We live in a small world, huh? Anyway, I think this letter is getting too long now. You don't have to come, but if you want to, these are the directions,

-Fluttershy

Below the writing was a crudely drawn map that showed directions to a pony town, labeled "Ponyville". For a moment, I just stared at the map. But after a while, I was curious and I opened the little gift box. Inside, there was a tiny, pink woven heart. I took a closer look and "Happy Hearth's Warming from the Shy's" was written on the back.

I was mildly confused, but then, gradually, I felt deep emotions rise from me. I began to weep as I held the tiny heart close against my chest. I shut my eyes and hot tears burned my cheeks. But, it wasn't a sob of pain though. In fact, this was the first time that I ever felt like some-deer, or, some-pony, understood me to this level, and cared this much for me ever since my mother died. As I think it through, did Reed-Tail truly care for me as much as I had thought?

Then, I must ask myself again, why did my tribe truly fail? What truly led to the demise of the White-Tails? It seems like an answer that is becoming more and more obvious. Perhaps it was the timber wolves, or the steam-carts. Perhaps it was my father who failed to lead then. But, maybe, just maybe, it was our lack of a tight bond, a lack of family, the lack of friendship.

Then, with that conclusion,

I guess we are broken.