Oh Deer

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.