It's truly amazing how nonchalant the ponies of Ponyville are about some things, while panicking about others. Take snakes for an example; it’s time to freak out! Stampede? Panic! Zebra in the neighborhood? Hide your foals, hide your wife and hide your husband 'cause they’re raping everypony out here! A pony jumping out the second story window of the library, through a pane of glass and everything? Pshh, so what? I honestly can't tell if ponies defenestrating themselves is a regular Ponyville occurrence, or if the herd mentality has some sort of mass mourning thing that makes them utterly oblivious to what goes on around them.

Nopony would give me so much as a second glance while I wander aimlessly through the streets. It's not like a pony limping along covered in scratches and broken glass is anything special. Why should anypony notice if she’s limping or glittering in the lantern-light? It's more than that though. They're purposely avoiding looking at me... but why? Is the dusting of glass scaring them all away, or do I just look that crazy right now?

Either way, it suits me just fine. The more ponies that never saw me, the better. Celestia only knows what that impostor is going to do to me if she finds me. She might purposely rewire my brain and send me on some sort of regicidal mission. Why else would somepony impersonate the regent’s star pupil? Unless she’s a spy—if she is a spy, then I totally blew her cover! Spies have to get rid of witnesses if they need to maintain their over.

Yup... Definitely can’t go anywhere near the library again. Any of Twilight’s friends are probably out of the question, too. If any of them so much as sees me, not-Twilight would probably be able to get a good idea of my movements. Same goes if I show up on Lyra and Bon-Bon’s doorstep again. I know without a doubt not-Twilight is watching that house like a hawk.

Idly, I wander into an alley to allow myself time to think. What am I to do when I’m effectively trapped in Ponyville and somepony impersonating the town’s most talented unicorn wants me dead? Firstly, I really need to find a way to bandage some of these cuts. I’m no good if I bleed to death; even if I’m not bleeding too badly, these wounds could become infected if I don’t find some way to clean and dress them. Hospital is out though. That not-Twilight is probably watching that place as well.

Next, I need to figure out how to get some food into me. I have no money, and if the entire town is in grieving mode, I doubt anypony is going to see some scruffy cut-up unicorn and think ‘I should give her some food’ and feed me. I’m probably going to have to resort to petty theft to survive, but where could I get enough food to keep me going? I suppose if I stayed on the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres, I could scrounge up some apples without being noticed. Heck, there’s even a place that I could stay the night without being noticed—if I can even find it.

Wait a sec! If I’m going to be slinking around the Acres, there’s no reason I can’t check out the Boutique! With all the cutting of fabric she does, Rarity probably has all sorts of scraps in a bin out back or something! No, she’d probably hear if somepony were rattling around in her waste-bins. Would those scraps even be sanitary?

Wow... When I look at what I’m thinking, I can honestly say that I would never have expected to hear myself thinking that raiding trash bins, stealing apples, and hiding in a child’s clubhouse would be a good idea. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I have somehow allowed myself to delve into the mindset of a homeless pony or a raccoon. Is there even such a thing in Equestria? No, stop that. Now is not thinking time. I’ve been standing still for too long.

By the time I crouch down by the Carousel Boutique’s back door, I’m coated in a sheen of sweat. It’s not the exertion of scrambling across town; as I recall, just yesterday I was running for half an hour straight trying to avoid Pinkie. It instead is the pain from my leg. I definitely don’t want to have to start running on this thing. I really shouldn’t even be on this sort of injury.

Well, at least I’m here, right? From the windows, no light escapes; from the looks of things, nopony is home—even better! Now, let’s see about getting these bins open. The horn is still out of commission. Just trying to use it induces a dull ache in my head. I guess that leaves the old fashioned way. Let’s see, if I stand up on my hind legs and balance one forehoof against the bin, I should be able to—whoa fuck!

CRASH!

Okay, so that was clearly a bad plan. Instead of pushing the lid open, I managed to shift all my weight against it at the wrong time and I’m now laying on top of an overturned waste bin. Classy, girl—man, Luna damn it all—when’s the encore? At least nopony is going to see me like this. I’d just about die of embarrassment. Now, about those scraps... Nope! This is all household waste, not fabric scraps. Does she keep those inside? Damn... Can this get any worse?

As if to answer my unspoken question, a light on the second floor comes on, bathing the area just beyond me in a dim light. Moments later, a window above me creaks open. Without even considering the consequences of moving quickly on my bad leg, I dive into the shadows up against the house, only to let out a strangled cry as all my weight goes onto my injury.

“H-hello? Is somepony out there?” a young filly’s voice calls out. There’s a modicum of fear in her sleep-laden voice, as though she’s just woken from a bad dream. Undoubtedly, it’s Sweetie Belle. “Scootaloo, Apple Bloom? Is—is that you?”

Shakily, I try to move myself in the quietest manner possible. If I can just get around the curve of the boutique, Sweetie Belle will never know that I was here. She’ll just think some cat or dog got into the trash bins, and we’ll both forget this incident ever happened. Unfortunately, just putting weight back onto that leg elicits another pained groan.

“C’mon, this isn’t funny!” she cries anxiously. “If somepony is there, just say something.”

So, if I’m not a pony, or if I’m some sort of monster, I can stay quiet? Huh. There’s a thought, me being quiet in this condition. “No monsters or anything down here, Sweetie Belle.” I say with some indignation, crawling into the light projected out the window. “Just a pony foolishly rooting through garbage for scraps of fabric that probably aren’t there.”

“Miss Soren?” I’m not looking up at the window, but I don’t need to be to know there’s an incredulous look on her face. The surprise and confusion is evident in her voice. “Why are you looking for fabric in our garbage? Rarity recycles her scraps.” Fuck, of course she does.

Well, you see, Sweetie belle, I was raped by my hosts, Twilight is out to get me, and I threw myself through a window. “Lyra and I had a bit of a fight, and I really don’t want to be around her right now.” It’s not quite lying, not that I have an issue with lying to children. “I had a bit of an accident, and I was looking for something to bandage my cuts with. I’d go to the hospital if it was serious, but it’s only some cuts...”

I look up to the window just in time to catch a thoughtful look fading from her face. “Well, Rarity had to go help Pinkie Pie. I think something bad happened today,” she says softly, glancing away from the window. Her expression is visibly brighter. “Maybe I can help you! Just wait right there!” The filly’s head disappears from the window.

At this point, it’s unclear to me whether or not getting Sweetie involved will ultimately benefit me. On one hoof, she could be of help getting my cuts cleaned and dressed, but on the other, she might very well mummify me. What would Luna do? Well, for one, she’s probably seek her sister’s assistance. I personally have no way to contact Celestia, and even if I did, what could she do? Then again, maybe asking what Luna would do in my situation wouldn’t be all that great of a comparison. Luna went and became Nightmare Moon when she lost her shit.

Before I can reflect any longer on what Luna would do or how the Princesses might be able to help me, my thoughts are interrupted by a light on the first floor coming on and the back door opening. Standing in the doorway, backlit by a ceiling light, is Sweetie Belle. A small nurse’s cap is perched on her head, and she had the handle of a first aid kit clutched in her mouth. I can’t help but stare at the nurse cap, wondering where she got it, or why she even has it.

“Please, come into the light,” she instructs, smiling even with the first aid kit in her mouth. “I’m pretty good at cleaning up cuts and scrapes.”

Suddenly it all makes sense. Her and her friends are essentially Ponyville’s shit-disturbers. Of course they would get scratched up and stuff. Heck, she probably takes the medkit and cap with her, even if it isn’t her special talent. Somepony’s gotta do it, and being the unicorn in the group—even if I’ve never seen her use magic—she’s probably best suited to making sure they aren’t all banged up when they go home.

“You use that thing often?” I ask, as I slink into the room, trying my best not to let on about my bum leg. Stand as still as possible in order to give her better access to my form, a sigh escapes my lips.

Placing the first aid kit on the floor, she looks at me intently, as though pondering whether or not I mean her horn or the medkit. “I only started practicing my magic a few months ago, but it’s made clean-up a whole lot simpler.” She smiles proudly, lighting up her horn in a sap-green aura. “You have no idea how hard it is to get tree-sap off without magic.”

An honest chuckle escapes my throat as I watch her levitating disinfectant swabs and bandages individually and laying them out in an alternating array in front of her. “Oh, I can imagine.” When you grow up in an area with pine and spruce trees, you’re bound to get a bit sappy from time to time. Even as an adult, I'm no exception. “It’s a real pain to get off clothes and skin.”

As the first disinfectant swab brushes across one of the cuts on my face, I can’t help but wince. I don’t know what disinfectant it is, but it sure isn’t the hydrogen peroxide I’m used to. Sweetie Belle must have noticed, because she lets out her own little giggle. “It’s only a little iodine, dear,” she chides in a very Rarity-esque tone before giggling. Catching my displeasure at being mocked, she quickly adds, “Sorry, it’s just Rarity always tells me that a little pain now is worth not suffering a lot of pain later when infection sets in.”

“That’s a rather practical and non-business minded outlook.” I muse as she gently covers the scratch with a bandage. I kinda expected Rarity to be a bit of a supporter of injury. Given how fucked this Equestria is, I half expect her to make a profit from pandering to those who have suffered injury. I could even imagine her saying something along the lines of injury needn’t hinder style. She could be the next great thing in ambulatory fashion! A stupid smile crosses my face as I continue my musing.

You can only imagine how surprised I am when Sweetie Belle beeps my nose with her hoof and giggles. “All finished.” She’s beaming in pride, and a small hoof-held mirror levitates off of a nearby counter—gotta have one in every room for fashion emergencies, I can imagine Rarity claiming. As it floats in front of my face, I can see several band-aids marking my face. More are all over my body. Looking down at my forelegs, I’m surprised to find that she even found some compression bandages and wrapped them around my foreleg.

“You really should keep off a sprain like that,” she adds, noting my lingering eyes. My eyes dart back up to meet her in shock. How could she know? “Scootaloo was just as bad at hiding her limp as you are.”

Incredibly grateful, I cannot help but wrap my hooves around the little unicorn and draw her close into a hug. “Thank you, Sweetie Belle. Even if bad things can still happen in Equestria, I’m glad your parents and Rarity are raising you right.” I practically sob into her mane. “Can I just ask one last favor? Do you know anywhere out of the way that I can spend the night where nopony would think to look?”

Hours have passed since my chance meeting with Sweetie Belle. Instead of being directed to the Cutie Mark Crusaders Clubhouse—“It’s a disaster right now,” she claimed—I find myself standing in front of a great dead oak tree outside the border of Sweet Apple Acres. With Luna’s moonlight, I can just make out what looks like a rough storm-cellar door built against the base of the massive trunk. This is definitely the place.

As Sweetie explained to me, beneath this tree is a rather large burrow that the Crusaders have taken as their ‘home away from home’. I guess even they need a secret-secret base in addition to their not-so-secret clubhouse. Just beside the door, a window has been carved into a gnarled root. Gotta have some light at night, I reckon. There isn’t even a question as to how their construction abilities have progressed since the aborted table at Fluttershy’s cottage—the trebuchet made sure of that.

Still, I don’t think I could ever be prepared for what I saw when I entered. Trotting down the well-constructed wooden steps, I’m greeted not by an empty and poorly-lit chamber, but instead a somewhat-furnished, decently-lit den. It’s rather breathtaking to think that three young fillies managed all this on their own.

Passing the table in the center of the room and moving towards a pile of blankets beneath a window, I cannot help but marvel at how well lit this space is, despite it being the dead of night. The only light sources are the windows, but the light seems to be coming from the center of the chamber, just above the table. Laying down on the pile of blankets, I stare up at a crystal embedded in the ceiling above the table. There’s no doubt about it; that crystal is somehow amplifying the light streaming through the windows. A gift from Twilight perhaps?

“Twilight...” I mutter somberly. Even my easily distracted mind cannot fight off troubling thoughts for long. Just having ignored it for a few hours is an achievement for one such as me. In an instant, all of the emotion and panic of the day rushes back into the forefront of my mind. A sob wracks my chest as the disdain I feel for Lyra after what happened last night strikes me. Another sob comes and goes, and the memory of Twilight completely ignoring me when Pound Cake ran off into the Everfree batters away at my heart. The icy tone of her voice when she threw me out once again chills my blood.

“No! Don’t think about it. Just go to sleep!” Even as I say it, the sickening feeling returns as I remember the sense of loss upon hearing Pound’s fate. The thought, like some great unkillable horror-terror from the depths of Tartarus itself, refuses to go away. Looking to the window, I take in a shaky breath. There’s only one thing that can take my mind off of troubles and allow me to single-mindedly focus on a goal. I begin to sing.

A tear rolls down my cheek, my voice already wavering after just the first verse. By the time I reach the chorus, I’m trembling terribly, not only because I’m upset, but because Lyra’s voice is frighteningly fitting to this song. Pausing, I allow myself only a moment’s respite as I mentally fast-forward the instrumental. Nuzzling the blankets gently, I prepare to lay my head down as again I lapse into the chorus, feeling far more comfortable already. My eyes-lids hang heavily over my eyes.

Laying my head into the blankets, I sing the final verse into my makeshift pillow. “Should I cave and blindly dance along to Lyra’s tune, or should I instead trust what my heart tells me?” I whisper, my heavy eyelids drifting shut over tired my eyes. “I don’t have much left, but I don’t want to be bereft...” I shake my head. “Am I willing to choose, when I’ve everything to loose?” When I finally drift off to sleep, it’s with a half-soothed mind and the final chorus lay forgotten at the tip of my tongue. The day’s troubles are forgotten at least momentarily as the realm of dreams overtakes me.

Author's Notes:

Sorry about taking so long with this chapter. I've been very distracted, feeding golden retrievers to crocodiles in Tokyo, fighting horror-terrors on a boat, and getting raped by luck while traversing the expanses of space.

Yeah, I've been distracted by video games. To be specific, I've been playing Tokyo Jungle, Final Fantasy VII, and FTL: Faster Than Light these last few days.

On the plus side, as I was trying to fall asleep last night, I had an interesting bit of thinking, allowing me to plan the next chapter, and to motivate me.

Edit: Shit, forgot to link the song when the lyrics started, and italicize them like last time.

Edit 27/09/2013: For copyright reasons, I've removed most of the lyrics from the song, leaving only the very end in because reasons.

Re-edited 12 July 2017