It’s cold… cold and silent.

My lungs are burning, and as I wake up, I take a breath. Air fills my lungs, and the burning feeling goes away. I pant several times. I try to catch my breath. I try to open my eyes. Yet, the world is still black. I can’t tell if my eyes actually opened. If they aren’t open, why can’t I open them? If they are, why is the world so black? Why can’t I see anything? Why can’t I hear anything?

And why is it so cold?

I shiver and move my hooves. I can’t make the cold go away, but I can feel the ground I’m standing on. It feels like dirt, but, since I can’t see, I can’t be sure. I try to lift my right forehoof. I want to feel my face, to find out for sure if my eyes are open or not. However, after moving my leg a few inches, I quickly draw it back with a wince.

I drew it back because something sharp pricked me, and it hurts. I try to move my other legs, move my wings, turn my head, but I keep being poked by something small and sharp. I shift back to the position I started in, trying to avoid the pain.

My mind fills with questions. What is poking me? Where am I? Why can’t I see, hear, or smell anything? Why can I only feel things?

And why is it so cold?

I’ve been standing still for a while now. It's only when I don’t move that I don’t get poked. I still can’t see anything, but as I breathe something tickles my nose. Smell…. I can smell dirt. It must be the same dirt I can feel beneath my hooves. I try to remember the last time I stood on dirt. I try to remember where I am. I remember… I remember…

I can't remember. I can’t remember the last time I stood on or smelled dirt. I know what it is, but can’t remember the last time I saw it. Why can’t I remember? Why can’t I remember anything before I woke up? Why can’t I remember anything before the cold? I know what it means to be warm, but I can’t think of the last time I wasn't cold.

I don’t want to be cold anymore. I want to curl up and rest, but I can’t lie down. I have to keep standing, even though my legs are starting to get tired. It’s only when I stand that I don’t get pricked. My eyes still won’t open, but I can hear now. Whatever surrounds me rustles when I try to move. I can also hear my breathing against the wind.

The wind is blowing, and it makes me shiver. It’s so cold, and, every time the wind blows, the thing around me rustles and hurts me.

Why does this thing keep hurting me, and why is it so cold?

I try to shift my weight. I’m so tired of standing, but as I move the thing pricks me again. I wince and try to open my eyes again, and this time they open. I can see. I can see! It’s dark out, but I can still see. I look around and realize that the thing that’s been pricking me is a bush. Its leaves are soft and green, but its branches are gnarled, brown, and covered in thorns.

There are so many thorns.

I can also see parts of me. My mane is caught in the branches, and I can see my legs. I could probably see more of my body if I was able to turn my head, but, if I move too much, the bush’s thorns jab me. It’s so dark that my coat looks black. Is that the color my coat is supposed to be? I can’t remember… why can’t I remember?

The wind gusts again, and the small happiness I felt from being able to see is driven away as I resume shivering. I don’t want to be cold anymore. I want to go someplace where it’s warm. I know what warm is, I know it exists, but I can’t remember ever being anyplace where it wasn’t cold. I can’t remember being anyplace but where I am now.

My legs are so tired; I don’t want to stand any more, but I can’t lie down. If I try to lie down, the bush’s thorns dig into my stomach. That, and the ground is cold. I don’t want to be any colder. I just want to go someplace where it’s warm.

Why does it have to be so cold?

I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go someplace else, but all I can see is the bush. Is the whole world covered by this bush? Even if I could move, is there anyplace else to go? I know that warm places exist, but I don’t know how I know. All I can remember is cold, and it keeps getting colder.

I start to fight against the bush, trying to free myself. It hurts to move. The bush keeps pricking me, but I keep fighting. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go someplace else. My legs hurt. I want to be able to lie down. I continue to fight as the leaves rustle around me. My mane gets more tangled, and the bush pulls on my hair, but I keep fighting.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be cold . I don’t want-

FLASH… KRAC-CROOO-OOOM!

I jump at the sound of the deep rumble and bright flash from beyond the bush’s leaves, and my sudden move makes several thorns dig deep into my side. I try to pull away from the pain, but the bush pokes my other side. It just keeps stabbing me until I force myself to stand still.

And even though I’m trying not to move, I can’t help but cry. The bush hurts, I’m cold, and I don’t want to be here, but I can’t leave. I can’t see a way out. The bush goes on forever. It’s all around me! The whole world is covered by this bush, and the bush is angry. That’s why the bush made that bright flash and rumbling noise; it's angry that I was trying to escape.

I continue to cry. I want to be warm. I don’t want to hurt, but that’s all there is. The bush is the only thing in the world, and all I can feel is the cold and pain.

“Hello? Is somepony there?”

I tense as my ears swivel in the direction of the voice. I want to turn my head to look, but I couldn't without the thorns digging into my side. Was the bush trying to talk to me? Did it have a voice? Why didn’t it say something earlier? If it could talk, couldn’t it see that it was hurting me? Did it like hurting me? Did it like keeping me trapped in the cold with its nasty thorns?

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

That is a lie. I know that’s a lie. The bush already hurt me. It’s been hurting me for as long as I can remember. Before I could see or hear, I was getting pricked by the bush’s thorns. The bush is lying. It isn't okay, and it is going to hurt me.

FLASH… KRAC-CROOO-OOOM!

I jump again and fall into the branches around me. The thorns dig deep. It hurts so much, and, after I’ve pulled myself away, I can feel myself bleeding.

Why… why does it have to hurt? Why does it have to be so cold? Why does this bush have to cover the whole world? I know what warmth is, so why can’t I go find it? I start to cry again, but I don’t care. There’s no hope of escape. No matter what I do, I can’t get away from the bush. I’m going to be trapped in the cold and pain forever. All I can do is stand there and cry… and so I cry; I cry and cry until I hear the branches beside my head rustle.

With no other warning, the inside of the bush becomes much brighter. The branches that were keeping me from turning my head are gone, so I look at the source of the light. I see somepony else, a purple unicorn, and she’s staring at me. I feel myself tense up as my eyes lock with hers. Those eyes stare at me a long time before they grow tense. She’s glaring at me, like I’ve done something wrong.

“I know—”

The unicorn sounds mad. She must be a friend of the bush. I tried to get away, the bush got mad, and now it brought a friend. The unicorn, like everything else, just wants to hurt me and keep me in the cold. I turn away from her. I need to escape, need to get away, but I can't. The bush’s thorns keep me in place. I’m trapped. I’m at the unicorn’s mercy.

I open my eyes and look at the unicorn again, and she starts reaching out to me. Her touch… it’s going to hurt like when the bush’s thorns prick me. No, it’s going to hurt worse. I try to get away again, but the bush keeps holding me in place. It hurts, it hurts too much to move. My legs are sore from standing, and the bush’s thorns are sharp. I can’t get away. I can’t get away! I can’t—

The unicorn still hasn’t touched me, and the only pain I feel is from the bush’s thorns. I look to her, wondering why she hasn’t hurt me. She’s lowered her hoof, and she’s staring at me again. She… doesn’t look as mad now.

What is she waiting for? Why doesn’t she just get it over with? The bush never waited, it always hurt me the moment I tried to move, and she’s the bush’s friend. She’s here because I tried to get away and made the bush angry. She should be hurting me, so why is she just standing there?

“I-it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

The unicorn’s voice is kinder now, and parts of the bush are starting to move, breaking off and floating away. I try to keep my distance from the floating branches, but I just get pricked by another part of the bush. I look to the unicorn and notice her horn is glowing the same color as the branches.

It was her; the unicorn was the one snapping the branches. Did that mean… did that mean she wasn’t a friend of the bush? And her voice, it sounded like the voice I heard earlier. Was she the one calling out earlier, and, if that was her, did that mean the bush wasn’t really alive? That doesn't mean I forgive it for hurting me, but it makes me remember what the unicorn said earlier.

Could… could it actually be true? Did the unicorn really mean what she said, that she wasn’t going to hurt me?

I don’t take my eyes off the unicorn until she finishes snapping off branches. Then I feel myself being lifted off the ground. The unicorn is levitating me out of the bush, up into the open air. She’s… she’s freeing me. I’m free!

The unicorn sets me back down on the ground a few moments later, and now I can see that the world isn’t entirely covered by that one bush. There are big trees and rocks and a bunch of other bushes, but I keep my eyes focused on the unicorn. She’s staring at me… just staring at me. A shiver crawls up my back; it’s colder outside the bush.

FLASH… KRAC-CROOO-OOOM!

I jump for a third time. I now know the flash and rumble didn’t come from the bush, but the noise was still loud and scary. I rush forward, searching for someplace to hide, and that someplace is next to the unicorn. I run up beside her and lean against her leg.

And I realize… it doesn’t hurt. Touching the unicorn doesn’t hurt, unlike the thorn bush that pricked me every time I moved. The air also feels different near the unicorn— not as cold. It’s still cold though, and the places where the bush pricked me still hurt. That, and the loud rumble was scary.

I’m free of the bush, but I don’t like this place any better.

“Um… would you like to come back to Ponyville with me?”

The unicorn’s question rings in my head, and, for a moment, a thought rushes to my mind. Ponyville… that sounds like a town, a place. I can't remember ever being there. Still, it must be a place, and I know it’s not here. No, this… this place is a forest, and Ponyville doesn't sound like a forest.

Someplace else… she’s asking me if I want to go someplace else. It could be less cold, there could be less thorny bushes, and there’s a chance that whatever made the loud rumbling noise and the flash won’t be there. The unicorn is willing to take me to this other place. She’s willing to help me escape, to save me from this place.

I look up at her and nod. I think she’s even starting to smile back at me. However, before the smile can form, the unicorn snaps her head up as her ears twist back. I look up too, and I see the big, black clouds that cover the sky. While I’m looking up, something hits my face. I lift a hoof to feel what it was: a drop of water.

I hear the unicorn say, “Oh… great…” and, a few moments later, I feel her picking me up with magic again. She sets me down on her back, between a pair of saddlebags. I feel a few more drops of water hit me, but then they stop. When I look up to see why, I see a glowing wall between me and the water. I remember that it’s called rain.

The rain starts coming down harder, splattering against the unicorn’s magic as she starts walking. I look back and watch as I’m carried away. My eyes lock on the thorn bush and its many broken branches, and I can’t keep myself from smiling a little.

I don’t really know where the unicorn is taking me. Ponyville could be colder and scarier than the forest, but I don’t care. The unicorn freed me from the bush, and I want to, have to, believe she’s taking me someplace better.

Without even thinking about it, I lie down on the unicorn’s back. For the first time, I can actually lie down and rest my legs. As I curl up, I start to feel something. I feel… warm. For the first time I can remember, I don’t have to shiver.

I can’t help but yawn as I rest my head against one of the unicorn’s saddlebags. I shift a little, to try and get comfortable, and wince a tiny bit since some of the places where the thorn bush pricked me still hurt. It's okay, though. The bush can’t hurt me anymore, and it’s not cold anymore either.

Warm… warm is so much better than cold.

I don’t know how long I slept, but I wake up when I feel something nudge me. I wince as I open my eyes. It’s really bright at first, but, once I get used to the light, I am able to look around. I’m inside some place, and I can recognize certain things, even though I can’t remember ever seeing them before. I see a sink, a bathtub, and even a rubber duck.

I also see the purple unicorn, and, as I look at her, she smiles at me. I like that smile.

“Don’t worry; you’re safe here. This is where I live, and you won’t have to worry about the storm or anything else here. Still, I need to get cleaned up. Would you mind getting off my back while I take a quick bath?

I shake my head. While the unicorn is smiling now, I know how scary she is when she’s angry. She was mad when she first found me, and I don’t want to make her mad like that again.

I get up slowly. My legs and wings are stiff, but I manage to get down from the unicorn’s back. I land on the soft floor mat and lie down again. It’s warm, this whole place is warm and it feels safe, but I still don’t want to move. Anything here could hurt me, and I don’t want to anger the unicorn either. So, I’m just going to stay where I am.

I watch the unicorn climb into the tub. She starts to clean herself, and I watch her scrub her mane for a little while before I look around the room. My eyes drift across everything, and, as I focus on each object, I realize I know what it is. Brush, shower curtain, window, mirror, floor, ceiling… I know all these things, and yet I don’t remember where I’ve seen them before. All I can remember is the bush, the cold, the pain… and then the unicorn finding me.

My attention is drawn back to the tub as the unicorn climbs out. She then dries herself off and starts to fill the tub again. I can’t help but wonder why she’s going to take a second bath, and I only get more confused when she shuts the water off before the tub is full. I can’t stay confused for long. The unicorn has turned to look at me and her horn is glowing.

She’s picking me up, and I’m a little scared. I don’t know what she’s doing, but the unicorn said she wasn’t going to hurt me and still hasn’t. I decide not to fight. I instead watch as I’m levitated over the tub. It’s a quarter of the way full, and the water is crystal clear. The unicorn is lowering me down, and, as my hooves sink into the water, I realize that she’s giving me a bath.

I sink deeper into the water and I can’t help but wince. The water is touching the places where I was pricked by the bush, and it stings… but the sting fades away quickly and is replaced by warmth. The water is really warm, and it feels so good.

While I’m enjoying the warmth, the unicorn is using a brush to clean off some of the mud from my coat. I don’t remember how it got there, but the unicorn was covered in a lot of mud before she took a bath. Maybe the mud came from the same place? Besides, the brush feels good on my coat, but, even if it didn’t, I would let the unicorn wash me all the same. I don’t want to make the unicorn angry by trying to fight.

It isn’t long before my bath is over and the unicorn has pulled out the drain stopper. As the tub empties, I’m lifted out, placed on the floor, and then dried off by a large towel. The towel feels almost as good as a brush; it’s soft and tickles a little. I, however, don’t laugh or squirm. The unicorn has been nice so far… but she could be like the bush. The moment I try to move or do something without her permission, she could hurt me.

Once I’m dry, the unicorn brings out a little white box with a red cross on it. She takes some bandages and a little tube of cream from inside, and, using them both she covers all the places where the thorn bush made me bleed. The bandages and cream are making those places hurt less, but, as the unicorn is placing the last bandage, I hear something moving around outside the bathroom.

“Hey, Twilight, I’ve got your dinner.”

I tense a bit. There’s another voice, a voice I haven’t heard, and it’s coming from the other side of the door. I think back to the bush. Maybe it really is alive, this is its voice, and it’s here to take me back to the cold and the pain. Yet, when I look to the unicorn, I see that she doesn’t seem to be worried.

“Thank you, Spike, but… you know, I’m really hungry after hiking through the Everfree Forest and the storm. Would you mind making me another sandwich and bowl of soup?”

“No problem. I made a big batch of the celery soup, and we have plenty of stuff for sandwiches. I could probably make five servings of this meal.”

“That’s wonderful, Spike, but I only need one more.”

“You got it, Twi.”

I hear the owner of the second voice walking away, and I don’t think I have to be afraid. The other voice didn’t sound scary, and the unicorn wasn’t afraid of it. She talked to it nicely, like she’s been talking to me.

I notice the unicorn has moved towards the door. She cracks it open and is looks out into the other room. After a few moments, she walks out with me following. I don’t want to stray too far away. We cross the room, and, as we approach a large bed, I feel myself being picked up by the unicorn’s magic. She levitates me into the air before setting me down on the bed. As she looks away, I poke curiously at the blanket with a hoof. It’s really soft, much softer than the dirt I stood on when I was stuck in the bush.

I look back up just as the unicorn sets a tray in front of me. On it are two things: a sandwich and a bowl of soup. I look up at the unicorn, and she smiles gently. “Here, you go ahead and eat this. I’m going to go downstairs and talk with Spike.”

Even though I don’t like the thought of the unicorn leaving, I nod my head. I look back at the food, and, after leaning forward, I take my first bite of the sandwich. It tastes so good, and I realize how hungry I am. I don’t even bother trying to swallow the first bite. I take another bite, and then another, and then another. I fill my mouth with as much of the sandwich as it can hold before I start chewing.

I almost don’t notice the unicorn leave, but I do. I pause from the food long enough to see her disappear out the bedroom door.

I really hope she comes back.

~~~

The unicorn has been gone for a long time, but I know she’s still close by. I can hear her voice; she’s talking with the second voice downstairs in the library. I can’t understand what’s being said, but it’s good to know she’s still close by.

I’ve finished eating all the food, and it feels good to be full. This place… it’s so warm and bright, and there’s nothing here hurting me. I… I like this place, and I like the unicorn. She was scary at first… but she’s nice.

I glance up when I hear the door opening. The unicorn’s come back, but she’s staring at me again, and I don’t like it. She stares at me like I’m something… something she just doesn’t understand. I… I don’t like those eyes. They make me feel bad, like I’ve done something wrong.

Did I do something? Did I make her angry? Is she going to make me leave? Is she going to put me back in the bush where it’s cold?

The unicorn walks up to the bed, and, as soon as she’s close, she asks a question. “Are you feeling better?”

Her voice is kind, but I don’t want to look up at her because I know she’s still staring at me. Still, I manage to nod once, hoping that’s enough of an answer for her question.

“That’s good,” the unicorn says as she sits down beside the bed. “So, uh… do you know where you are? Do you remember where you were before I found you?”

I can only shake my head. The unicorn said she was going to take me to Ponyville, but I have no idea if that’s where I am or not. I also don’t remember being anywhere else but inside the bush, and that’s where the unicorn found me. That’s all I can remember: the cold, the pain, and being found by the unicorn.

She begins to ask a bunch of questions, and I answer each one as best I can. I either shake my head or nod once. She keeps asking me about different things. “Do you remember where I found you?”, “Have you ever been there before?”, “Do you know who Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are?”, “Do you know who I am?”, “Do you know what the Elements of Harmony are?”. She asks question after question, and I shake my head more than I nod.

I sniffle, and I can feel my eyes starting to water up. It’s like the unicorn expects me to remember, but I don’t. I don’t remember where I came from, how I got stuck in the bush, or anything else. All I remember is the cold and the pain.

The unicorn asks another question. “Do you know your name?”

My name… I know what a name is supposed to be, but what is my name? I… I can’t remember. I can’t remember my own name! My own name, I don’t know my own name! I can’t help but cry at this point, the tears rolling down my cheeks and dripping onto the bed. Everypony is supposed to know their name, but I don’t.

Why can’t I remember my own name?

As I cry, I feel the bed shift. When I look, I see the unicorn has climbed up and laid on the bed beside me. She lowers her head, putting it down beside mine. She’s… she’s gently holding me. I still want to cry but having her nearby makes me feel like it’s okay. This place is safe, the unicorn isn’t going to hurt me. This is a safe place to cry.

And I want to cry… I just want to cry.

~~~

I don’t know how long I’ve been crying, but I feel better because of it. I use my hooves to dry my eyes.

“Feeling better?”

The unicorn’s voice is still as gentle as ever, and just hearing it makes me feel better. I don’t remember ever saying anything before, but now I want to speak to the unicorn. I open my mouth. My tongue feels heavy as I try to move it. My voice is weak and sounds strange to my ears, like it’s not my voice. I answer the unicorn all the same.

“Y-yes.”

“That’s good,” the unicorn says before falling silent. She’s just looking at me again, like I’m something strange or I’ve done something wrong. I think back to when she first found me, how mad she sounded. Is that why she keeps staring at me? Is she still mad at me and just trying to hide it?

“So,” the unicorn begins, drawing my attention, “uh… it’s been a long day. How about we get some sleep?”

Sleep… it would be nice to sleep. I honestly want to stay and sleep on the bed, but… I know the unicorn probably wants me to leave. That has to be why she keeps staring at me. I know she doesn’t like me being here… even if she’s been really nice. She probably wants the bed to herself and wants me to go sleep outside in the cold. But… I don’t want to go back to the cold. I like being where it’s warm and safe… I like being with the unicorn.

“Can… can I sleep here?”

The words escape my mouth before I realize that, by asking a question, I might make the unicorn angry. However, while she doesn’t seem angry, she’s staring again. I can tell the answer is going to be no, why else would she be looking at me like that? I prepare to get up and leave when she finally answers.

“Yes, you can, but how about I make it so we’re both more comfortable?”

I’m at a loss for words. She’s… she’s letting me stay!? She’s actually letting me stay! I’m so amazed I almost don’t notice that she’s picking me up with her magic. The unicorn must really be good at magic, because she keeps using it. By the time she sets me back down again, she’s tucked herself under the bed’s covers and rested her head on the pillow.

But it’s more than that. I’ve got my own blanket and pillow now, and they feel so good, so soft. I can’t help but yawn as I rest my head on the pillow. Soft, warm, and safe… this place is everything the bush wasn’t, and I like being here.

But what if I have to leave? What if the unicorn makes me leave when I wake up? I look across the room at a clock. I remember the words day, night, morning, and evening. It’s night and evening now, but, if I go to sleep, it will be day and morning when I wake up. What if the unicorn makes me leave in the morning?

I… I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. I like this place, and I like the unicorn, but she’s always staring at me weirdly. Doesn’t that mean she doesn’t want me here?

I don’t want to go… but I want to know if I have to leave. I have to know.

“Miss Unicorn?” I say quietly. I come to realize that, just as I don’t know my own name, I don’t know her name.

The unicorn lifts her head groggily. I think she was about to fall asleep when I spoke, and I realize that I have probably hurt my chances of actually getting to stay. She looks at me, but she doesn’t stare this time. “I’m sorry, I guess I never introduced myself. My name’s Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight Sparkle… that’s a nice name. Maybe if I use it, she’ll forgive me for waking her up. “Okay… Miss Sparkle, can I ask you something?”

“Yes?”

I shift under the cover of my own blanket, working myself deeper into the small crook formed by the side of Twilight’s legs under the blankets. “Do you want me to leave in the morning?”

“What makes you think I’d want you to leave?”

My mind clicks back to all those times she stared at me strangely and how angry she sounded back in the forest. I bite my lip as I try and find the courage to speak. “You… were mad when you first saw me. I just… didn’t think you’d want me around.”

“It’s not your fault, I just thought you were somepony else for a while,” Twilight said, “but… no, you don’t have to leave in the morning.”

I… I hear the words, but, for a moment, I don’t believe it. Then a smile spreads across my face. I don’t have to leave. I can stay here. I can stay here where it’s warm, where it’s safe, where nothing can hurt me, and where Twilight is. I can stay here.

I yawn, lying my head on my pillow. My eyes slide shut, but that’s okay. It’s okay to fall asleep here. I snuggle into my blanket and pillow, and, as I drift off to sleep, I realize I can hear the sound of not only my own breathing but Twilight’s as well.

I yawn one final time.

It’s so warm… warm and safe.