The first thing I noticed when I awoke was my splitting headache.

The second thing I noticed was the overwhelming impulse to vomit.

The third thing I noticed when I was attempting to comply with the second was the row of thick metal bars that my face slammed into as I rolled over, which did nothing to help the first thing.

Fortunately- at least for a very loose interpretation of the word- I hadn't put anything more substantial than water into my stomach for at least the last day, so what came back out was barely more than a thin, watery bile. I spat out what remained, then pulled myself away until my back hit another row of bars only a few feet away. Nausea and vertigo kept me from even opening my eyes for a while, so I did my best to assess my situation with my other senses- I could feel solid wood beneath me, warm air blowing against me, and my nose caught the smells of hay and animals. Despite that, it was nearly silent around me, with only a quiet conversation I couldn't make out in the distance.

I reached up and tapped gently at my forehead, then let out a small hiss of pain as my fingers hit the broad lump just above my right eyebrow. I'd definitely taken a nice shot from... whatever had thrown a rock at me last night, it seemed. What had I actually seen? In the state I'd been in, not to mention the one I was in now, I wasn't sure I could trust anything I'd seen at the campsite.

I'd have to wait to see if I could trust my perception until my eyes decided they wanted to do their jobs. Until then, I ran my fingertips over my face; I didn't feel any dried blood, so someone had taken the time to at least clean me up a little. At least it isn't as humid here as it was in the woods, I thought. Wherever “here” is... wow, wouldn't it be nice if I had a functioning pair of eyes right now? Hint, hint.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, I could manage to open my eyes without my skull threatening to explode in response. Slowly my vision managed to adjust to the thankfully dim light around me- something was shading me and a fair amount of the area around me from the midmorning sun. I realized that I must have been unconscious for a good twelve hours; I was lucky to not have a cracked skull from a blow that severe.

That was the extent of the good news. The bad news was that I was apparently imprisoned in a cage that was barely larger than a queen-size bed, with a four-foot-high roof made of the same thick wood as the floor. Black metal bars wider than two of my fingers together were evenly spaced and securely anchored into both floor and ceiling, not budging no matter how hard I pulled or twisted at them; the same went for the large, locked door at the far end, which had a smaller door set within it.

As my vision improved, I could make out more of my surroundings. I'd fortunately chosen to toss my nonexistent cookies over the edge of the one wall of the cage that wasn't covered by a thick tarp; that side faced out towards a wide plain, partially obstructed by a wagon not terribly different from what I'd seen at the campsite. From the seemingly elevated position I was looking from, I could tell that I was a couple of feet off the ground, and that the wagon looked almost comically undersized for anyone to actually live in- as if someone had shrunk an idealized, colorful version of a 19th century showman's wagon down by twenty percent.

None of this was making any sense at all. But something in the back of my mind was telling me to be quiet, to not let whatever might be nearby know that I was at least marginally awake. Desperate for more information, I carefully crawled forward towards the door, avoiding the spot where I'd been sick, and glanced around; the bars were annoying, but I could work around them.

The wagon in front of me had a cracked wheel, severe enough to necessitate stopping on the spot, which apparently was what had happened. Just on the other side of the wagon I could hear two voices conversing quietly; what few words I could hear were unintelligible. Oddly enough, interspersed with the conversation were what sounded like the snorts and nickers of a horse- was the wagon horse-drawn? That'd be a sight to see in this day and age, I had to admit. I couldn't see the animal, or any hitch for the wagon, even leaned up against the bars as I was.

I almost didn't notice that the hushed conversation out of my sight had ended. I heard what sounded like hooves on packed dirt- but lighter-sounding than normal, not that I was any kind of expert on horses. I heard the hoofsteps move away for a moment, then stop, followed by something being muttered, and after a moment the steps approached the side of the wagon I could see.

What came into view at that moment made me forget everything- the injuries, the hunger, the fading sense of nausea, the confusion and fear- and caused an almost literal mental reboot as my mind struggled to grasp just what I was seeing.

It was a bright shade of blue-green, what one might see in the ocean just off the shore of some equatorial paradise. Each of its four thick, angular legs made a soft clip-clop sound upon striking the ground. The deep indigo hairs of its mane and tail seemed to chase the wind that blew by it. The bizarre mark it bore on its flank- something almost resembling a cartoonish rendition of a Ferris wheel- seemed to glimmer in the light.

And the enormous, ridiculously-expressive crystal-blue eyes it had flicked back and forth as if searching for something lost.

“What the hell are you...?” I breathed.

Its ears twisted back towards me, and it turned- only to gasp, leaning back with a hoof raised in a surprised stance. I could swear that both its pupils and its irises constricted into pinpricks- but then it was gone, as fast as thought, babbling something.

Wait. It was babbling? No... no, that couldn't have been right. I must have misheard. Because it almost sounded like it was pleading for help or something... and small horses don't do that.

Small horses didn't come back to what frightened them in the company of a similarly-sized creature sporting a horn and somehow levitating a whip next to its side either, but that's what this one did. I had just enough time for the word “unicorn” to enter my overwhelmed mind before the whip moved.

thwip-CRACKthunk

The whip struck the third bar from the left from the one closest to my face, making it vibrate, and something inside me said that the placement of the blow was completely intentional; the unicorn's expression was barely-contained fury, and it was practically screaming at me, words I didn't comprehend in the least partly comprised of horse-like noises mixed with more human-like vocalizations. Instinctively I crawled away from the source of hostility, putting my back against the rear side of the cage, one hand gripping the bars there.

The unicorn stared at me for a moment before storming off, almost slamming its hooves against the ground as it walked, and the still-fearful-looking horse spared me one last glance before rushing off behind him. Bizarrely enough, the unicorn seemed to have a different symbol on its flank- this one of a circus-style tent with its flaps opened.

The rush of blood to my brain caused by the adrenaline jolt caused my headache to spike, and my overwhelmed mind decided that consciousness was just too much trouble to maintain for the time being. I barely sensed that I was falling over onto my side before I blacked out.

The next thing I knew, I was being prodded with something hard in my side. My head shot up, and I saw the small horse- pony?- from before poking me in the side with its hoof; it practically jumped backwards at my movement, making a high-pitched squeal. This time I could see clearly how its pupils and irises both contracted in fear. Behind it, standing outside the cage, the unicorn- still keeping the whip floating next to it, and in the dimmer light I could now see that a strange glowing aura surrounded both the weapon's handle and the creature's horn- snickered and said something to the pony.

The still-terrified-looking pony motioned towards something with a shaking forehoof. I looked down in front of me to find a wooden tray with a metal bowl and clay cup set on it; the bowl contained some kind of gruel, still steaming hot, and the cup held plain water. It was an effort of will not to immediately dive on the food like my overworked, underfed body was urging me to, but I didn't want to show weakness to what appeared to be my captives, so I simply stared at them.

They seemed to take the hint readily enough. The pony- who I nicknamed “Ferris” for the weird mark it had- was quick to back out of the cage, almost slamming rump-first into “Tent” before the unicorn could get out of the way. Tent held my stare for a long moment, not looking the least bit intimidated, before glancing at the cage door; it lit up with the same-color aura that surrounded his horn, then slammed shut.

Even after the two creatures had left, I couldn't move for several moments. Magic. I just saw magic happen. Literal fucking magic. Dorothy, you are no longer in Kansas.

It was only as I was leaning forward to pick up the tray, causing my right hand to brush against my thigh, that I realized something incredibly critical. My holster! It's missing! Extremely belatedly, it struck me to check to see what I still had in my possession- I hadn't actually thought that a pair of fantasy creatures could have searched me, but now I saw that not only was I missing my weapon and my travel bag, but my pockets were empty as well. Fortunately I was still fully-clothed, at least.

I would have to deal with the situation later. My stomach would be ignored no longer, and as quickly as I dared, I brought the bowl of gruel up to my mouth, blew on it to cool it down as much as I could, then took a sip. It was... well, gruel, but someone had put cinnamon and a couple of other spices into it, so while it wasn't exactly appetizing it was at least tolerable. The water was cool and clean and helped soothe my throat.

Despite the hot food in my stomach and the warm air around me, I couldn't help shivering as I sat against the back of the cage with my legs up against my chest. I had no idea where I was, why I was in this cage, what those strange creatures were... I was alone, confused and powerless, trapped and at the mercy of those equines, who were obviously intelligent and capable of harming me. And then there was that magic- what could it do? What rules did it follow?

I was jolted out of my thoughts by a shudder passing through the bottom of the cage; the grassy plains outside began to move- or, more accurately, I did. It felt like whatever the cage was set on was big and heavy, though it still moved smoothly along the dirt road... what else was on this thing with me? The tarp that surrounded the rest of the cage was secured too well for me to move it.

I rested my elbows against my knees, then cupped my face in my hands. I basically had two choices in this situation- I could completely lose my composure, panic and begin kicking and screaming to be released... or I could keep calm, consider and plan. If nothing else, the second plan would be less tiring, so I went with it, carefully examining my options and every contingency I could think of as the scenery continued to roll by.

(-)

“Look, Top, that ditch was almost impossible to see, the way we were comin' up on it.” Wheel raised a foreleg defensively, hoping to defuse his employer's anger. “ Especially the speed we were moving; the brothers couldn't possibly stop in time. Though I guess if we weren't going so fast, we might've lost the whole wheel in it.”

Farris Wheel had learned early on that the best way to keep from triggering Big Top's temper when something went wrong was to imply that it was his planning and management skills that had kept things from being worse, no matter how big a lie that actually was. Sure enough, the unicorn's expression softened a bit. “Well. Discussing this won't get the wheel repaired any faster, I suppose. Get my toolbag, would you?”

“Sure thing.” Relieved that he'd avoided punishment, Wheel trotted towards the supply cart- but then stopped. I could swear Top was carrying it when we stopped, he thought. Think he was standing by the transport cart last I saw it with him, too... maybe he dropped it there?

He decided to follow his hunch and walk back around the main wagon, glancing back and forth across the thin grass they'd parked on. Hm... no, isn't here, I guess. Maybe he took it back to the supply cart while I wasn't looking-

His ears twitched as something made a noise behind him. He turned to see a bizarre, flat face staring out at him from behind thick bars, its disturbingly-tiny eyes staring right at him. It had said something- whispered, really- that his hearing had just caught- which was frightening in and of itself.

He hated the thing. He'd hated it since it had terrified him at the campsite, and it being in a cage now made him no less afraid of it. But the boss had insisted on bringing it along with them- “Think of the audiences it'll draw!” had been Top's rationale, if one really wanted to call it that- and now there it was, somehow making noise he could hear despite the enchantment that had been set on all of the cages.

“Top!” he called out, unable to keep his voice from squeaking in panic. “The new thing! It's awake! Help!”

He galloped towards where Top was still waiting; the unicorn gave him a critical look. “What are you blathering about?” he demanded.

“The thing that attacked us in the campground last night! It's awake! It's making noise!”

“Cow-scat. Did you hear the manticore? How about the naga? You know sound can't get out of those cages.”

“But Top, I did hear it!”

“Whatever. Anyway, now that it's awake, I'd better go... set the ground rules for our relationship with it.” Top marched forward, and Wheel kept pace close behind, being sure that the unicorn was always between it and the monster.

As per usual, “setting the ground rules” meant nearly taking the creature's face off with his whip, then taunting and yelling at it until it backed off, which the thing did readily enough; despite his dislike for the thing, Wheel couldn't help but note the expression of confusion that seemed to cross its flat face. “Why are you even yelling at it when it can't understand you, boss?”

“It doesn't need to understand the words, just the force behind them. That's how you deal with beasts, Farris Wheel- assert your superiority, make them afraid and compliant. Break them.”

“But.. are you really sure it's an animal? I mean, it wears clothes. I think it even talks.”

Big Top began trotting away from the cart, and Wheel was quick to keep up. “But it doesn't talk Equestrian, now does it?”

“But still-”

“Wheel, I once knew a pony who insisted she could understand animals, and she didn't look anything like you. I'm sure that the manticore 'talks' too, but do you think it's saying anything other than 'I wanna eat you'? But really, if you think that half-bald yeti is gonna hold a conversation with you, I'll be more than happy to lock you in there with it for a while.”

Wheel quailed. “No! That's not necessary!”

“Good colt.” Top snickered before a frown crossed his muzzle. “Now get that toolbag for me already! Celestia's not going to keep the sun up longer for us to make up lost time!”

It wasn't nearly soon enough for Farris Wheel's tastes before they had the broken wheel repaired and the caravan back on the road. The trip went smoothly afterwards, up until the point where it came time to feed the exhibits; the wagons pulled off the road once more, and while Stout and Steady unhooked themselves from their harnesses took up their usual guard positions, Top went over to the food cart. “You got lunch ready yet?” he demanded, whacking the side of the cart with a hoof a few times.

“Yeah, yeah,” came the muffled reply, before the window of the cart opened and Silver Wisk leaned out. “Since you ain't figured out what the new critter eats yet, I made some of the standard mix for it. Oughta keep it from starving, at least.”

“Good, because the damn thing went and sicked all out the front of its cage. I don't think it's eaten in a while, either.”

“Well, I ain't cleaning that up.” The mare set out a tray. “There- if it's that bad off, go and feed it first. Oh, and we're running low on meat for the manticore and naga- better send off one of the twins to fish or set up snares.”

“Right, right. Wheel, you heard the mare; send Stout Hooves to set up a fishing net in that stream over the hill, then get back here for feeding the exhibits.”

“Will do, boss.” That job only took a minute, and as the massive earth pony wordlessly trotted off to get the nets, Wheel went back to the exhibit cart, where Top waited by the new creature's cage with the tray and his whip. “Uh, Top?” Wheel asked quietly. “You're sure it's a yeti?”

“Have you got any better idea of what it is?”

“Um, no....”

“Then go feed the yeti, already.” Top prodded him with the whip before magically unlocking the cage and opening it.

What Wheel saw inside almost made him drop the tray. The creature was laying on its side, unmoving; gingerly, he set the tray down next to it so that he could speak. “Uh... hey, Top? It's lying down. I can't tell if it's asleep, or....”

He heard his employer sigh. “Well, try waking it up, then?” came the irritated reply.

That was the last thing he wanted to try doing, but with a gulp, he managed to collect his courage, creep up towards the creature, and prod it with a hoof. It seemed alive, thankfully enough- Big Top would've been furious if it had gone and died on him- but unconscious, he prodded a bit more to get it awake, doing his best to ignore the smell of stale sweat it gave off.

He was more successful than he wanted to be, and it was only by sheer effort of will that his bladder didn't let go when the creature's head came up suddenly, those weird tiny eyes staring right at him. He wanted to say something to it, if only to warn it from coming at him, but he couldn't get his throat to loosen up enough to make words.

Behind him, Big Top nickered in humor. “Aw, go on, don't you want to be friends with it?” he teased. “Tell it that it's lunchtime.”

The closest Wheel could get to doing that was motioning towards the tray with one shaking foreleg. The creature seemed almost surprised for a moment before its face became expressionless, and those small grey eyes fixed on him, almost seeming to drill a hole right through his very soul. He tried to return the stare, but his will wavered almost immediately and he bolted backwards as quickly as he could, almost giving his employer a faceful of his plot before the unicorn could make way.

Feeding the rest of the exhibits was less stressful- even the manticore, whose snarls and growls were inaudible from outside the cage as Wheel slid just-this-side-of-going-bad fish through the bars. Apparently the beast had finally learned to avoid the shock-enchanted bars and stop trying to claw the face off of whatever pony was in front of them. Not for the first time, Wheel wondered where the boss had learned to do all this enchanting stuff, and why he was putting that skill to use on a crummy little traveling sideshow... but he knew better than to ask; the first and only time he'd done that, he'd nearly gotten a taste of the whip himself, along with a stern warning to leave the topic alone.

The twins were given lunch first, which they tore through quickly, while the rest of the crew took their positions; once the caravan was moving again, Wheel began shoving his food into his mouth as quickly as he could. “You afraid that barley mash is going to make a run for it?” Top snickered.

“I'm just really hungry.” Which was the truth, plainly enough, though there was a deeper reason- Farris Wheel got hungry when he was nervous, and ever since they'd taken that strange hairless creature in, he'd been exceptionally nervous. Something bad's going to happen with that thing, he thought. I can just smell it coming.