The Manehattan boardwalk is a wonder of modern Equestria. The wide wooden pathway runs almost the whole circuit of the island, built upon natural water-worn rocks and dating back to when the first skyscrapers were built, almost sixty years ago. It is many different things to many different ponies: a tourist attraction, the site of many a marriage, a peaceful place to walk pets in the early morning or afternoon, a biking trail--a place to live, and a place to die.
“Honey, she’s just a foal. You know how Manehattan is; it’s not a place for a filly her age.”
On this particular day, the public Manehattan Weather Control scheduled a light shower. It was the beginning of winter, the sun was setting, and a cold breeze blew off the ocean. For this reason, most ponies decided to stay indoors, or within the cover of the city’s skyscrapers. The only ponies remaining on the boardwalk were all heavily clothed. All except one.
“Come on darlin’, good old mister and missus Orange’s ‘ll take good care of her, don’t you fret. She’ll be fine--now come along kiddo!”
“But papa...”
“Don’ be scared, it’s only for a little while and your momma and ah’ll be down t’ see you real soon. Don’ be scared, darlin’.”
Sitting on one of two benches under a wooden gazebo, out of the rain but still battered by the chill wind, was an orange filly. She was alone, wearing nothing but the fur on her coat, ignored by all the self-centered ponies who passed her and hurried on. But she didn’t mind--she wanted to be alone. Tickling tears slowly trickled down her face every once in awhile. The cold had her shivering, but she didn’t notice. She didn’t care.
“Hi, miss Applejack, is it?”
“Yessir.”
“There’s been an accident...”
Another set of tears started down her cheeks. She blinked hard until her eyes cleared up a bit, and she watched the waves, stirred up by the small storm, roll and crash against the rocks stretching out below the gazebo. She’d never liked the ocean, it was too big. Something infinite, and terrifying. But today the lively waters were soothing--her tears were nothing compared to that behemoth.
“Oh darling, my little Apple... thank Celestia. Don’t worry, my dear.”
“Mm-momma, you g-g-gon-na be O--o--o-k?”
“Of course, hah” *cough* “Well... the doctors aren’t all too chatty about it, but... you know how I always say ‘no news is good news.’ I’m sure it’s just... just like that...”
The sun was setting on the other side of the tall buildings, and already the gazebo fell in their shadow. As the dusk inched toward night, the cold only grew. The orange filly let out a series of high-pitched sneezes. Snot began to stream from her nose, like the tears, but she didn’t wipe it away. It made its way to her mouth in a steady, slimey, sweet stream. Her face was contorted in her repulsive misery, squinting red eyes, snot nose, tear stains...
“O there’s mah little gurl! It ain’t been no more ‘n a month and you’ve done grown up so much... ah’m proud o’ you, kiddo. Come on over ‘ere and give yer papa a hug. Oof!”
“Ah missed you so much, papa!”
“And ah missed y’ too... ah missed y’ too.”
Soon the street-lights lit up the empty boardwalk, and the moon began its ascent across the turbulent water. It was a full moon, reflecting off the ocean in a line toward the filly. The ocean drowned out all the usual sounds of the sleepless city, and she tried imaging everything was silent. She’d left the silence behind, back on the farm, back in Ponyville. But her efforts only brought up happy memories that made her sad, and after awhile she focused instead on hearing the ocean crashing against the rocks, the natural music of unstoppable power clashing with insurmountable stone.
“Mr. Orange, can we talk in private?”
“Sure. O’ Applejack! could you get this stallion a cup of tea? Right this way...”
“...firefighters managed to get most patients out, but parts of the east wing where the first began... I’m very sorry.”
The last vestiges of the sun in the sky faded, and true night set in. A single old earthpony walked toward the gazebo, swinging around a cane which he held in his mouth and tapped on the ground repeatedly. He nearly walked by the gazebo, but his ears perked up and he began up the steps instead. On the other side of a high bench, the orange filly was invisible to passers by, but the trained ear of this particular earthpony caught a scintilla of her sobbing over the crashing waves. When he found the bench, he sat down next to the filly.
“Applejack, that was... that was a... a police pony and... there was a fire--we...”
He heard the chattering of her teeth, and he gingerly removed the big brown coat he wore, carefully lifted it up, then dropped it where he thought the sobs came from. It ended up smothering the orange filly, and she fiddled with it unconsciously until her face was free to breathe in the biting air. The coat was a bit wet from the rain and smelled of sweat, but it was fuzzy on the inside, and warm. She didn’t turned to the stallion, but only staring, unseeing, out to sea. The stallion did the same, blind.
“Sis... y’ remember what papa said? ‘Don’ be scared.’ … Ah’m here for y' sis, and ah always will be.”
The two ponies just faced out to sea, not talking. The storm was coming to an end, and the waves began to settle. Like the waves, the filly’s sobs began to quiet, and she wiped her face off with the coat. Then there was silence. She turned to the stoic earthpony that sat at her side. He looked ancient, worn out by a tiring life. Then she looked back at the moon, rising ever higher. She finally leaned into the stallion, who put a hoof tenderly on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, until the filly’s eyelids finally slid closed and her breathing smoothed to match the gentle waves.
Don’t be scared, darling... don’t be scared.
