He was swimming. He had been in nothing but a pitch black void for who knew how long, and there was nothing to be seen, there was nothing to be felt, and there was nothing to be heard in the deep deep abyss. For the longest time he was falling, through air he didn't know, but he was falling and falling and there was no way he could get back up to wherever it was that he had come from. He had to have come from somewhere, it wasn't like even the darkness harbored no point of return. But then again, he had been falling for the longest time and now here he was, swimming in a massive ocean as blue as a cloudless sky. The darkness that plagued him suddenly paved way and folded inwardly, replaced by a oceanic scene that reminded him of postcards from the Bah-humbugs, ones that beckoned him to their borders so he could enjoy pleasant sun and warm air.

Here he was, swimming to absolutely nothing from absolutely nothing. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. It was impossible, even, to think that the darkness he had been falling through had been harboring such a tropical scene behind itself, waiting for him to approach it and shake hooves as if they and him were long-term buddies from school. His coat of fur was soaked beyond recognition by color, now a deep crimson red than a straight one, joining his raggy mane as a wet duo that whipped at his eyes and clung to his bare skin. His dad had always told him how to swim, and here he was perfectly mimicking all those lessons he had been taught. Hindlegs kicking idly, forelegs kicking wildly. Staying afloat was more important than moving, he'd always been taught, and now here he was first trying to remember where he was, and second figuring out just where next to go. There was the sun above his head that he could use, and he'd just have to wait for it to move from its position straight up in the sky so he could tell where was east and where was west. Maybe if he swam enough, he'd make it back to Equestria and have the longest sleep he'd ever had.

Then again, Equestria was where family was, and his family currently hated his guts. Why else was he here in this ocean and not with them? Celestia was real, as was Luna, and their godly powers could manipulate anything from the sun and the moon to the dreams of their little ponies under their rule. Friendship and family were key in this world he lived in, and maybe the two princesses saw fit to allow the two parts of the family some breathing room so they could amend their fence later in the future. Now wasn't a good time, seeing as how he was swimming. He silently thanked Celestia and Luna—despite their keeping him away from his family—that his yoke was back at home and not around his neck. If it were, he was sure he would've drowned by now.

He needed to work. Day and night, it's all he ever did, and all because it's all he was ever raised to do. His work was his life, and he was the only one who could rightly do it. No one else in his family could do it, because none of them had the strength that he did. None of them could do as he did, and that was okay with him. He liked being useful; everypony had their own part to play in his work, and his was the most important, which meant that he should either be out there doing it right now or he should be sleeping so he could wake up and be out there, yet here he was swimming in an endless ocean of shimmering blue. The sound of waves crashing against each other roared at him from all around, sometimes displaying said noise directly on his figure, causing him to flick his chin up high and suck in a large breath just in case. If where he was was anywhere he could be, he definitely didn't want to go. Maybe this was his punishment. Maybe he had finally crossed the line of being an ass to his family. Maybe Celestia and Luna conspired with the God of Chaos himself to send him out on a journey he didn't know he was on.

He looked up, still swimming, to see that the sun hadn't moved. Teeth rattled; it was cold as all hell. He always suspected that the waters down near the equator were much warmer than their northerly and southerly kin, but here he was, proven dead wrong and suffering for it. He was wrong. He had to be. He had judged and he had insulted with little more than assumptions to fuel his heavy snarl and spitting muzzle. He was still swimming, and he was wrong. So wrong, in fact, that he suddenly realized that he was no longer swimming in an ocean. He was still swimming, but not in an ocean. Not one that he could see at least. His eyes flicked upward and fanned around. The sky had disappeared, and the sun and clouds with it. He was simply swimming in nothing.

He was back in the darkness, now. But he wasn't falling this time. Maybe something had changed. Maybe something new would happen. He'd been falling for a long time and only recently had hit that ocean, and maybe he had shifted the cycle more in his favor. His hooves came up into sight and disappeared back into basic non-existence as they went back down again. His body began to get tossed more and more to its left and right, the waves grew in number, size, and frequency. They ascended and descended; some smacked directly into him, others passed by him unconcernedly. He flicked his chin upward and sucked in a breath a lot more now, he noticed. Something was definitely happening now. Something was changing.

His movement of his four hooves grew more erratic. Something inside of him changed. He knew something would, and it was his own body. Something gripped him slowly, working its way from the tips of his hooves and traveling up his legs, solidifying in the pit of his gut and spreading across his innards. His throat was soon met with the sudden plague; it became dry, a dry so bare he couldn't satisfy it by simply gulping down his own phlegm. He didn't want to do it, but he had no other option, and dipped his head to lap at the water surrounding and crashing his body around. He shot his head upward and swallowed hard. Still nothing, but perhaps he was getting somewhere. The salt of the nothing ocean felt like acid down his throat, but he continued his action maniacally in the realization that he was definitely beginning to feel better. The color in his hooves and hair began to darken, more so than they had upon contacting the water he was paddling through until they were simply no more. He was still there, all four hooves with a body, head, and brain, but there was no possible way to see what was him on the outside. He was left to be content with just knowing that he was present.

He dipped his head under the water once more, and lifted it to the usual height he had grown accustomed to to reach fresh air. Instead, he was met with more ocean. This puzzled him incredibly, but it was no big deal. He kicked downward like a squid, rising upward. Looking straight up, he tried his hardest not to breathe in through his nostrils and gasped for air once he breached the surface of the nothing. The area around him wasn't present, not like he, but he felt something different. Another change. Something was here this time. Someone. He couldn't quite place it, but something else was here with him. He couldn't exactly tell what, but he knew it in his heart. He narrowed his eyes. Maybe it was the help that he needed to get back to Equestria. Maybe his time was up.

Those were wings. His eyes grew wide, though he knew he couldn't see them. Those were wings though, something had definitely just moved nearby. He wasn't sure how high up it was, but he knew it was there. He looked up and down. Maybe he'd be able to see it if he tried hard enough. He'd always been told that trying was what got you places. Trying was an admirable thing that was constantly rewarded. Trying got him through school so he could help his family. Trying was what he did at his job, necktie on his neck and papers in his board. Trying was what he did for his family. Trying got him fired. So he tried. And he tried, and his green eyes couldn't get any narrower. There had to be a way to see it. Those unmistakable wings. His rescue.

There they were again. Closer this time. There was a noise that accompanied it, something like a low whoosh. Whatever was flying, it was going fast. Peculiarly fast, in fact. Incredibly fast. It was probably the fastest thing alive, and yet here it was wasting its time trying to help him from the nothing he was swimming in. He had to get its attention, because he knew sure as rain that the waves around him were loud enough to wash out any decibel he could yell in and any kind of pattern he could hit. There had to be a way, and so the thinking began. The waves suddenly stopped five seconds into his thoughts, however. They were still there, no, they were just quiet now. Silent. Something else was changing. He swore he heard a gust of wind sweep through the air, but he hadn't seen anything to prove it. No swaying of trees, no whipping of hair. It was dead quiet, and here he was, swimming.

He hadn't noticed the hoof on his shoulder until it had pressed down against his weight, shoving him underneath the water of nothing that he was prior swimming through. There had been one hoof, one measly little hoof that he could easily push away with his raw strength and swim back up for air that he began to feel he needed. He looked up to find his attacker but couldn't see anything past nothing. There had been one, until another had joined it on the opposite shoulder. Both began to push harder, more resiliently than when there had just been the one. This was now becoming an issue, and the air in his lungs was beginning to dwindle more and more. He could just swim down and pedal somewhere else, away from the two hooves that were now plunging him deeper and deeper.

Another hoof snaked in from underneath him, further into the abyss, and coiled around his hindlegs. At this, he let out a gasp of shock and took in the first mouthful of water from the sea. He realized what he had done, and shut his mouth as tightly as he could to begin squeezing the water out the corners of his lips. Maybe then he could get more air. He needed it now, desperately. Once he had enough, then he could start fighting back and maybe get some oxygen in his lungs. Whatever was in his gut began to increase. Sweat began to pour down his forehead, mixing with the salt and bubbling up to the surface with his failed attempts at moving and breathing. He felt another hoof wrap around his other hindleg, and it as well began to yank him downward to join their sources.

He was now immobile, and this realization caused him to open his mouth and scream. Maybe if he could get in little bursts of air from his bubbles, he could find a way out of this. His bubbles were miniature, numerous, and not as optimal for him as he thought they would have been. Big gulps maybe. There had to be some kind of loophole he could manipulate. He opened his mouth and breathed in, then purged it and realized he was losing breath. It was like inflating balloons. His cheeks grew sore and began to brighten, which he felt since he couldn't see it. The hooves above suddenly let go, and he took this opportunity to try swimming up. He could barely see through the darkness, and tilted his head upward to find that the edges of his vision were beginning to fade in kind. Maybe if he could get up there he would...

There were two faces now.

There were two faces staring him down, their faces betraying their actions as they simply sat above him and stared.

One of orange and freckles. Another of rainbow hair and magenta eyes.

Their hooves flew back to his body, and pushed down on his head.

He flailed uselessly, thrashing about and creating waves underneath that reverberated and pulsed and elongated before his unseeing eyes. He opened his mouth to scream, and more water flooded his mouth. The hooves around his hindlegs tightened, now burning and yanking harder. His lungs felt constricted as the feeling in his gut finally reached his heart.

He was scared.

And here he was, trying to swim.

Something was beeping, steadily. Quietly. Cautiously. Voices were speaking, far off in the distance.

He tried to grasp at them, but in the deep, dark ocean, there was no where to go but down.