Equestria Dark: Tales of a New Appleloosan Stallion Water Salespony

Written by VelvetHeart

"So he did take it after all," the mare mumbled to herself, forelegs stretched uncomfortably far to reach into the shadows under the little colt's bed. She let out a sigh of relief as she finally exposed it. Though dusty, battered and dented by the efforts of a mere colt struggling to drag it up the stairs, the two-spool recorder's metal shell had kept its functioning components intact.

The sigh of relief quickly turned into a groan of frustration moments later. "And he just had to use up all the tape too. He probably spent five minutes singing at it and then forgot to turn it off. I hope it's not out of battery."

A few twirls of the two large spools and flick of the play switch set the machine in motion, and after several seconds of nothing but static and breathing, a little colt's voice filled the room:

"...

You're not a pony, right? N-not an 'anypony', you're an... a thing, a 'something'. I can tell you. I have some... They're just stories, stories in my head. They don't mean anything, just stories. You listen. You're not a pony, but you listen. You remember everything, but you don't, y'know, you don't think bad things about me, no matter what I say.

It's a story, it's called 'The Brave Little Colt'.

You see, there was this colt, and he was very, very brave. He was very loved by his mama. But... he had a little sister, and because she wasn't a colt, mama couldn't... love her like she did the brave little colt. A-and because good pony food is very ex- ex-pen-sive, the little sister got much less than the brave little colt.

S-so when the brave little colt gave his food to his sister, his mama got very, very angry. She made him go in t-the smokebox.

The smokebox isn't meant for little colts. It's a little wooden shed with a sort of drawer under it. You put meat in it, a-and light a fire under it, so it fills with smoke. That's how you get smoked meat, you can trade it with some of the not-ponies, because it stays good a long-long time.

The bottom of the smokebox is a metal grill-thing, and it gets really hot, but there are tiles on top of it, so... w-when you're inside the box, you have to stand on the tiles. They get very hot, but they don't leave burns on your hooves like when you s-stand on the metal. It's very dark in there, and it fills with smoke really fast. It gets really hot and breathing hurts inside a-and your eyes start stinging and crying. You have to cough really, really hard, and-and you can't get out, no matter how much you hit the door. It's l-locked.

The brave little colt's mama wasn't listening to him crying and saying he was very, very, very sorry. She just waited until the brave little colt stopped making noise.

After she got him out, she told him not to do it again.

But the brave little colt was very brave, and he didn't want his little sister to be all hungry, even if that meant he didn't... y'know.

So... so he did it again and her got put in the smokebox again.

Even after that, he was still v-very brave, and even though he was very, very hungry, he gave--

W-when his mama put him in the smokebox again, she put something in the fire-drawer. Little brown curls called to-ba-cco. A-after that, the little brave colt didn't... He needed to breathe the smoke sometimes. He felt... wrong if he didn't.

She said if he was a good colt and did what she said, she would give him more brown curls, and she would help him breathe the smoke. He wouldn't have to go into the smokebox any, he could just sit by her and breathe it from a paper thing.

A-after that, the brave little colt wasn't so brave no more.

..."