It was early morning, and still dark out. Tonight was the first night I’d insisted that Twilight take her own bed again. I’d slept downstairs, on the same cushioned library bench that Twilight had been sacking out on for days. Spike had been nice enough to bring out a blanket and extra pillow. It was actually pretty comfortable. It had been hard getting to sleep. I could almost feel thoughts racing around my head as I lay there. I’d woken up far too early, as well. I didn’t see a clock down here, but I knew it had be be something like four in the morning.

So here I was, Rain McCloud, nee Peter Vicars. Formerly a human male, now a pony mare. I’d gotten a first really good look at myself at Rarity’s request before the naming session. I still mostly tried to avoid looking at myself. It was one thing to deal with a new body, and get used to walking differently, interacting with the world differently, but staring in a mirror, seeing a creature that couldn’t exist in my old world was still deeply uncomfortable. I mean, ponies obviously existed, but the proportions were all different. This pony body had two forward-facing eyes, not small side-mounted eyes like a horse from Earth. This color wasn’t natural in anything with fur, as far as I knew, although there were birds that had similar colors in their plumage, so I guess it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.

Finally, there was the last change that I knew I’d been avoiding. I was now female. The only upside of the situation was that there was a lot more to deal with being a whole new species, so I’d been able to put the whole female thing mostly out of my mind. I knew that couldn’t, shouldn’t, last forever. On the upside, my subconscious was telling me that this body, this gender was normal. That let me think a little more rationally about what had happened, without completely going to pieces.

As someone with anxiety issues around crowds, I knew from experience that it was the subconscious that really controlled fear. For example, when I tried to go to a bar in my old life, I knew, intellectually, that there should be nothing to be worried about. People went to bars all the time and enjoyed themselves. But when I showed up, I was immediately uncomfortable. I acted strangely, had sometimes said and done things I regretted, for no reason that I could rationalize later. That uncomfortable feeling was just that, a feeling, coming up from under my conscious control.

I guess it was a good thing that whatever subconscious thing that told me ‘this is who you’re supposed to be’ now said that I should be a pony, and a mare. When I looked in the mirror, my conscious mind told me that something was very wrong, and it was uncomfortable to think about, but I didn’t have that deep-seated anxiety that I always associated with crowds. That down to the bone feeling of something being wrong just didn’t exist.

There was something special about the world early at four in the morning. At least in the human world, no one was around. The day hadn’t started yet. The night-owls had all gone to bed, and just a very few people would even be awake. Hardly anyone would be out.

I thought it would be nice to take a walk, maybe clear my head. I left Twilight a note, in case she or Spike was up before I came back. I took the new cloak that Rarity had given me from its hook behind the door. Tugging it on took a little effort. It must be nice for unicorns, I thought, remembering Twilight just setting a pair of saddlebags on her back with her magic, everything going to the right place automatically. I didn’t have that luxury, but at least I had ‘hands’. In the end, I had to tug one end over with my mouth and pick it up on the other side. These pony legs had an amazing amount of flexibility compared to a regular Earth horse, but I couldn’t reach across my back with one. The cinch was just a cinch, no need to tie anything, and I easily pulled it tight with one ‘hand’. Once that was in place, I was ready to go.

My cloak, white with red trim to match my mane and tail, and a pattern of red squares embroidered on the edge, reminiscent of zebra designs, Rarity had said. I rather liked it. With that, I headed out into the town.

The early morning was nice in Ponyville. The street was deserted and the street lamps were still lit, throwing pools of light down the dark street. I walked up to one of the lamps. It looked like and old design, something you might see in London by gaslight. I couldn’t see a bulb, just a pure white light emanating from inside the glass enclosure. I’d have to ask Twilight about that. I was betting that it was magic of some sort, but I was curious nonetheless.

I continued my walk down the street, conscious of slipping from one pool of light into the next, vanishing in between. I followed the path that Twilight had taken my at first in our trip yesterday, toward the market area. We hadn’t made it all the way there, but I knew the right direction. After all, the town wasn’t that big.

I continued down the deserted street. There wasn’t anyone about, just like I’d hoped. I could see the faintest beginnings of the dawn on one edge of the horizon. I guess that made it east, but who could tell, here. The road opened up to... not exactly a square, but definitely a bigger area where I could see stands, where some pony or other must sell their wares during the day. They were all packed up now, their display boards bare. I wondered if these were individuals’ property or if they had to rent them from the town.

I walked through the market. It didn’t seem eerie, so much as peaceful, asleep, almost. It wasn’t really a market right now, just the sleeping form of one, waiting for the day and the arrival of ponies to wake it up, make it into itself again. Distracted as I’d been by the stalls, I almost walked past the one building on the street with a light on. Stopping, I could see a solitary light on in the back, throwing a dim glow into the front windows.

The front door opened, breaking the silence and startling me. I reared back, moving on instinct before I got control of myself. I managed to land back on my front hooves without falling over. Then I heard, “Hi, Peter. I was wondering who was out. It's usually just me this early.” It was Pinkie Pie, her voice quieter than usual, almost like she was respecting the stillness of the morning, unwilling to break it with her usual over-the-top delivery.

“It’s Rain now, Pinkie,” I said. “What’re you doing up anyway?”

“So you’re really okay with changing your name? I wasn’t sure you’d want to go through with it.”

“Something wrong with Rain? You helped pick it out.”

“No, nothing’s wrong with the name. I think it’s pretty spiffy. I just wasn’t sure you were ready to make a change that big.”

“Well, I’m trying to think about it like this: Peter is who I used to be. Rain is who I will be. Right now I’m not really either one. I’m definitely not Peter the human anymore, but it’ll probably be a long time before I’m really Rain the pony. I might as well start working towards the new, because I’ll never be Peter the human again.”

“Aww don’t look so down!” said Pinkie, seeing my demeanor shift with my last statement. “You’re never going to be old-Peter, but you’re never going to be not-Peter, either.”

“Huh?”

“Well, you were always Peter before, right?”

“I used to be, yeah.”

“And now you’re not, huh?”

I looked at myself, “Obviously not.”

“What did Peter have for breakfast that last day on Earth?”

“Cereal. Why?”

“Would anyone except Peter know that?”

I paused, “No... no they wouldn’t.”

“See?”

I blinked. “You’re a lot more clever than you look. You know that?” I said with a grin.

She smiled, and it was an impressive smile. Then she narrowed her eyes. “Or maybe I’m just disguising my super-smart appearance so that everyone will think that!”

Back to our regularly scheduled Pinkie Pie. I shook my head. “Anyway, what are you doing up at this hour?”

“Well, I work at Sugar Cube Corner, here. I have to be up super-duper early to start all the day’s baking. Dough takes a while to rise, and baking takes a while, too. When hunngy ponies come in for breakfast crullers, everything has to be already ready.”

“Makes sense. I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“Okay, have a nice walk.”

“And... thanks. You gave me something to think about.”

The only response I got was a little grin before the pink pony disappeared back inside the shop.

Author's Notes:

It's short, I know. But I liked this bit better as a separate thing.