I raise my arms in front of me with a startled yelp at the brightness of the sudden flare. Huh, I have arms to raise again, and eyes to blink! Already leaps and bounds ahead of being dead, to be honest.

As I collapse onto my belly in the dirt with a dull thud and a disgruntled squeal, the number of leaps and bounds by which it is better significantly decreases. Ugh…still going to call this one a W. It feels good to have a body again. Even if I’m in a bit of pain, I’m already feeling more like myself again.

The question is, what kind of myself am I feeling like exactly? The stars swimming before my vision quickly recede as I sit up and rub my temples.

As my sight clears, the first thing I notice is that my field of vision is way too wide for comfort. I almost vomit a bit, giving a slight dry heave as I try to process the significantly increased range in which I can see around me. The world seems to curl away unnaturally in the edges of my vision, and the fact that I can see so far out to the sides without turning my head makes my head spin.

After a few less than pleasant minutes of trying to wrap my head around this wrap-around vision, I finally manage to get it together. I give a dry swallow as I realize the next thing that is different. The hands I have been grasping my head with aren't hands at all! I thought they felt kind of hard for hands, honestly. And now, bringing them down in front of me, I see…not much. Seems like I have a small blind spot directly in front of my eyes. Bummer.

I pull my not-hands a bit further away from my face and see that they are, in fact, hooves! My arms are covered in very soft-looking short pink fur and now terminate in hooves of a darker shade of pink that complements the coat pretty nicely. The color is soothing enough that I only freak out a moderate amount instead of a whole lot as I assess my unfamiliar new form.

“Ohfuckohfuck. Alright, so I am definitely not human.” I think to myself as I inspect my new appendages. I try to flex my nonexistent fingers, and surprisingly, the hoof flexes in a manner not too off from what I intended. Apposable hooves. Well, isn’t that something? One less reason to flip out, at least? That’s right, big guy, keep focusing on the positives. We’re going to work through this one step at a time. Easy does it.

The hooves, while firm, have a rubbery texture when I rub them against the ground. They're tough but less solid than a proper horse hoof. The frog of the appendage covers most of the bottom aside from about half an inch in and seems exceptionally soft and more sensitive to touch than the rest. Again, it's similar to what I know about the next closest thing.

“Alright, wide field of vision, uncloven hooves, I’m going to guess some kind of equine…” I think to myself, looking down at my body and letting my vision trail down to between my legs. My eyes widen at what I see down there, and I let out a low, impressed whistle. “Yeah, definitely some kind of equine. Proportions are kinda scuffed for a horse, though. Maybe a pony?” I muse to myself as I start going about the pain in the ass that is figuring out how I’m going to move around.

“Whatever I am, I need to get myself unfucked pronto. I can’t just sit around…wherever I am all day. Just where am I anyway?”

Ah yes, situational awareness, my old nemesis. I take a moment to look around and take in my surroundings. There are trees, a lot of trees, split by a path heading out of view. Enough trees that the canopy is blocking out a good bit of the sun, beams of light peering through the high branches here and there as a breeze rustles the branches now and again. Nearby, a small lake sits placidly, dotted with a few softly buzzing insects and even a couple of frogs.

Honestly, not the worst place I’ve woken up after making some questionable life choices. It’s…nice, peaceful, really. It reminds me a lot of where I lived back when I was a kid, except in this case, there isn’t a house in spitting distance to get back out of the woods.

This brings me back to what I was doing: figuring out the leg situation! The situation is that I seem to have four of them, and they are doing their best, which right now isn’t very good.

I lurch and stumble repeatedly, giving small, frustrated, and surprised squawks and starts as I struggle to figure out the proper sequence in which to move these crimes against bipedalism in an effective manner. It takes me a bit, but I start getting the hang of it after a few more falls. I definitely have a bruise or two in store tomorrow, but that’s the price of progress. I start getting the sequence down. Front right, back left, front left, back right, in that order, then again, and again.

Theeeeere we go. Not bad, I’m already walking around with all the grace and panache of a particularly agile toddler. Two years to learn how to walk? Try two minutes! I’ll have to get Summoning Salt on this massive breakthrough in the learn-to-walk speedrun progression.

Alright, enough sucking myself off. I'm…satisfied with this modicum of progress for now. I smile to myself and attempt to do a little dance. It's more of a crude shuffle on less-than-stable legs as I give a small, giddy chuckle.

Now that the hard part is out of the way, I strut over to the little pond to get a better look at myself. Let’s see what we’re working with here…

As I peer down at my reflection in the water, my first guess is confirmed to be a hit! Yeah, that definitely looks like some kind of pony, at least. Whatever I am, I’m not anything from back home, even without the pastel color palette and the…horn? Oh, sweet, I’m a unicorn! I wonder if that’s special like It is back home. Eh, that’s not important right this second. Let’s get a better look.

Huh, honestly, I’m kind of cute by human standards. The few intact instincts that came packaged with this meat suit certainly don’t seem to find this body hard on the eyes. Nice to know I have enough going on horsewise to know if I’m hot or not, but not enough to know how to walk around without falling on my…ass…flanks?. But what am I gonna do, file a complaint with management?

A bit more inspection draws me towards a conclusion that I am not entirely sure how to feel about. I kind of look like a girl. Or, well, a mare. As long as you didn’t worry too hard about the… more relevant details, that is. I’d say I’m more than a tad feminine-looking, at the very least. Long slender legs, slim waist, a soft face…. And the hairstyle this thing came with certainly isn’t doing anything to contradict that.

My mane and tail are pretty light, almost cotton candy or bubblegum pink, and have been styled into long, neat ponytails. Hah, pony.

My eyes are pretty big, almost cartoonishly so, and colored a lovely, soothing, smoky blue that borders on purple. Or would it be purple bordering on blue? It’s a pretty nice color either way.

As for accessories and clothing, the only thing I’m wearing is a…collar. It's not like a dog collar, thankfully. That would have raised all kinds of questions, and none of them would have been comfortable.

Actually…I think I make this work if I’m being honest with myself, even if I’m unsure what’s up with this look. Maybe being a little femme was in style or something, and that factored into my appearance? Ah well. If it ends up being an issue, I can always at least switch up my style once I get the means. In the meantime, I might as well try to own it. Femme or not, It’s hard to deny I make it look good.

I smirk down at my bad self and strut in the mirror, or well, the pond, and toss my hair a bit more fruitily than I probably could have gotten away with in other circumstances before turning to face the path I had woken up on.

A sign in the shape of a typical arrow-like shape is posted nearby, pointing towards one direction down the path. That’s quite convenient and great news. Slightly less fortunate is the fact that I can’t read it. The sign’s lettering seems to be some form of runic script, written with sharp angles and straight lines. It almost resembles Norse runes to me, but then again, I’m no expert linguist.

Yeah, uh, I read English, not whatever that is. That will probably become an issue before too long, but that’s Future Me’s problem more than it is Present Me’s. For now, I at least have a direction, a clear path. If I’m making assumptions about how things work here, I probably have a solid block of daylight to burn, so I might as well get walking. I probably don’t want to be in unfamiliar wilderness when night falls.

After what probably felt like a much longer amount of time than it actually was, I approached the outskirts of the forest, a clearing coming into view as I sang to myself to ward off the quiet.

“Singin, Oh Lord, this earth was made for us. Singin’, Oh Lord, this simple life just ain’t- oh sweet, looks like I’m finally out of the woods.” I say as I stop singing to myself and take a look around. And indeed, not only is my situation looking better, but I have quite literally made it out of the woods.

Fields, plowed way out into the distance, stretch across my field of view. Off to one side, there looks to be more trees, except these are more uniformly planted and flush with ripe fruit. It’s an orchard, a lovely apple orchard by the looks of it. Some buildings, what I take by the looks of them to be a cluster of barns, lay a little further down than that.

It isn't a town, but at this point, I will happily take whatever signs of civilization I can get. After all, no use looking a gift me in the mouth, right?

I smile and start trotting more briskly, ducking under and through some fences to make a beeline for the buildings through the orchard to see who is around.

“Hold it right there, big feller! Just what are you doin’ cavortin’ around on mah family private property?”

As it turns out, I am not the only one interested in who is on the property. I Cringe and freeze in place, instinctually obeying the reflex to raise my hands above my head after hearing that phrase coupled with that accent and immediately toppling over facefirst into the dirt.

“Ah fuck, ow…w-wait! Don’t hurt me, Ma’am. I say, not trying to get up just yet, still worried any sudden movements might be unwise. “I’m just lost. I was heading toward the buildings because I was hoping I could find someone who knows where I am…”

Thankfully, this woman or er…mare, whoever she is, takes my words at face value, and I can hear her relax as she responds. “Hmmm, alright then, get on up. I’m not gonna go around beatin’ on a stallion. ‘Specially not if ya don’t mean no harm. You got a name?”

I shuffle a bit awkwardly to my hooves again, breathing a sigh of relief that things seem to have cooled down as quickly as they had seemed geared to heat up. “My name, huh? Uh…hm…” I hum softly, the cogs turning fruitlessly in my noggin as I turn around to face the one who had flagged me down.

She’s an equine, like me. Only she’s shorter, by at least a head and a half, maybe more? She’s a pleasant creamy orange, with bright, lively green eyes complemented by a mane and the color of gleaming cornsilk tamed and restrained by a set of red scrunchies. Despite having fur, she has…freckles? Huh, okay. Well, to be fair, it's not the weirdest thing I’ve seen today by a long shot.

On her head is perched a hat I’ve seen plenty of times, a Stetson if I had to name it, and by the look of her, it isn’t for show. She looks like an honest, hardworking mare if I’ve ever seen one.

And I have seen several before, but to be fair, most of those didn’t talk or wear hats, so I might not be the most qualified expert on the matter.

She’s got a solid, sturdy build. As I look her over with a growing curiosity, I cannot help but notice that she is a bit bottom-heavy. Or perhaps back heavy would be a more appropriate term in this case. Wait, Why am I checking out a horse's ass? Or, well, a pony’s ass? I guess I’ll be doing more of that than I ever thought I would from now on, considering I am one. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

This unwelcome derailment of my train of thought is thankfully quickly interrupted by the mare clearing her throat and giving me a firm, even look. “Eyes to mine, big fella, I was askin’ you a question. Now, what’s your name?” She asks a bit more firmly, leaning in a bit more as she asserts herself with her tone. “Mine’s Applejack. I’m a farmhand here on Sweet Apple Acres, along with the rest of my kin here in Ponyville.”

I find myself standing a little straighter as she takes that tone with me. It seems familiar, but I can't quite place where I’ve been spoken to like that before. I cough softly, turning my head off to one side to break eye contact and conceal my embarrassment before speaking again. “S-sorry about that, I was just curious. My name is er…R-Rose…Tint? Rose Tint.” I say more confidently as I roll it around on my tongue a bit. Honestly, for a johnny-on-the-spot, that isn’t half bad.

“Curious, huh…?” She says with a less-than-impressed tone. I can practically see her fighting not to roll her eyes. “What about exactly? You ain’t never seen a mare before, Rose?”

“Er…no, actually. Not really.” I say somewhat lamely, pawing aimlessly at the ground with one hoof and resisting the urge to fidget more obviously. “I didn't really grow up around a lot of ponies.”

She appears to believe me judging by her expression, but that same expression also tells me she’s more than a bit surprised. “Huh…fair nuff then. Where the hay are ya even from then? I know ya ain’t from ‘round these parts, at least. I haven’t seen you around Ponyville before.”

Alright, so far so good. Let’s try to keep this up. Be just honest enough to not seem like a crazy per- er..pony? That’s going to take some getting used to. There appears to be a lot of horseplay with the names here, so I decided to go for it. “I’m from Louwhinnyana, ma’am. And I’m really not sure how I got to…Ponyville, was it?” I continue, bringing one hoof to rub at the back of my neck as I do my best to wing it. “One minute, I was back home, minding my own business. Then something hit me out of nowhere, and the next thing I remember after coming too was waking up in the forest over there.”

She Squints slightly at this. I can't shake the sneaking suspicion that she somehow knows I’m holding out on some details. But then her expression changes as a flit of realization crosses her features, which quickly morphs into concern. “You said you came from that way?” She asks as she points towards the forest I had emerged from not long ago. “From the Everfree Forest? Shoot, you’re lucky to have come out in one piece for me to be grillin’ ya right now. That place is more trouble than a field full of fruit bats.”

I feel some of the blood drain from my face as I hear this and give a slight shiver. That’s not something you want to hear about the place where you spawned in. I’m glad I didn’t get mauled by something.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Thank you for the warning,” I say dryly as I look over Applejack’s shoulder back at the forest with a growing concern of my own.

“Ain’t nothin’ to it, fella. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but ain’t Louwhinnyana all the way over in the Colonies in Amareica?” She asks with a slight ring of curiosity in her tone. “You’re an awful long way from home bein’ this close to the capital, Ain’t’cha?”

“I…I guess I am, yeah…” I say softly, my voice carrying a bit more hopelessness than I would have liked, a weight she could not have known her words would have to descend on me just as hard as if one of the mighty apple trees surrounding us were to fall square over my back. With how strange and unreal the last few hours have been, It hadn’t really been at the forefront of my thoughts. But as I’m actually talking to someone about it, it’s only just now hitting me that I died. Everyone that I have ever known up until today has to deal with the fact that I died. I’ll never see any of them again. I won’t be able to let my friends or my family know that I’m still out there somewhere. I won’t be able to see any of them ever again.

“Uh….you alright there, sugarcube? You’re not lookin’ so good right now…”

Applejack’s voice cuts through the haze of very unpleasant thoughts I had been quickly losing myself to. I realize I am breathing fairly heavily, and my cheeks are wet. I reach up with one hoof and slowly nod, wiping my eyes dry and giving a small sniffle as I compose myself. Let’s just go ahead and put all of that in the bad feelings box for now. You have more significant concerns, Rose.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. It’s just sort of hitting me, is all. I’m kind of alone out here. It’s not a great feeling. Sorry…”

She blinks at this and shakes her head, giving me a more gentle, sympathetic look. “Hey now, no need to apologize for that. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with being a lil’ scared. Ain’t no reason you need to try to act tough for me, either. You’re hurtin', I can see it plain as day on your face. Ahm’ sorry if I gave ya a fright, Rose.” She says as she walks closer to me, raising a hoof and patting me gently on the back. “Here, how about you come over with me to the house. You can join me and my kin for dinner. I’m sure a little good company and a hot meal would go a long way for ya right about now, wouldn’t it?” “She says as she gently nudges me toward the buildings with her leg before letting go of me and starting to walk over that way. “C’mon now, sugarcube. We’ll getcha right for now, okay?

I give another slight sniffle, the simple act of downhome hospitality almost enough to make me start tearing up again. I give Applejack a simple nod and start following her, not trusting my voice not to crack right now. I’ll have to remember to thank her properly once I do, she certainly deserves it.

Alright, the first proper chapter is incoming! Now that I have started shaking the cobwebs off, I'm feeling better about this. I put a lot of work Into combing this one over, fiddling with wording and such here and there, and I think the effort really shows in the final product this time. I had forgotten how much fun it was to write from the perspective of this pastel-pink little goober. As always, I hope you guys are enjoying reading every bit as much as I am enjoying writing.

I'll hopefully see you all next week!