Author's Notes:

Italics version can be found here.

So, I kinda died? Well, I don’t know how it really happened, one moment I was on my way home from a visit to my parents and then, puff. I’m dead. I’m pretty sure there was no other person around my vicinity and definitely no cars or the likes that could have just ended my life. Besides the possibility of getting killed by a sniper for whatever reason, but that is just silly.

Now, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to be able to think any thoughts anymore, what with being dead. Or feel anything, for that matter. Sight wasn’t available to me, though. And whatever that sound was, it was slowly driving me insane. It was a constant beating that wouldn’t stop!

Anyway, my name is... or was, Rudolph Baker. No, I was not a baker in my lifetime, and yes, people made jokes about reindeer around me. Not that I minded, I kinda found it funny, too. Sometimes. One can hear a specific joke only so much before it gets annoying, after all.

I was a programmer for an indie games company, had a rather nice car, and was lucky enough to have met the most amazing wife in the whole world. We had two kids, one just over sixteen years old and a very special girl that was the jewel of my life. Sometimes she was just too smart for her own good, though. She would have started going to university way before what was considered normal next year.

Or, she would have started next year, that is. Now? I don’t know what happened to my family after I just seemingly dropped dead in the blink of an eye. I had so much to look forward to with my family, and now? It was all gone.

My wife was suddenly a widow, having to take care of two kids all alone. Although my parents or her sister would without a doubt help her out, I’m sure. Mom and Dad always had a soft spot for her and the kids, they would needlessly worry over them until they dropped dead from exhaustion. They were kinda that selfless, at times.

I always tried to make them think about their own health first before committing to such large tasks like buying a farm so they had something to do when they retired. It was quite endearing, though. They would take good care of my family without needing to be asked.

My concern rested with the sister of my wife, though. While she loved my kids more than anything, perhaps a bit too much, she didn’t really see eye to eye with my wife most of the time, though. She and Catherine seemed to have a different definition of when someone is taken or not. Catherine managed to win my heart without difficulty and her sister (sorta) hated her for it.

I had no idea how her jealousy would affect her now with me being dead. Would she resent my wife for it? What about the children? How would she feel about them, now that I was gone?

What about the rest of my family? My wife must be totally devastated by now. And my daughters would certainly miss me a whole bunch, to be sure.

How would they react to my passing? Would they find out what caused my premature death? I’m sure I didn’t have any relatives that had serious illnesses that could indicate as to what I had. If I had anything, that is. Maybe it was divine retribution for something I did or someone just hated my guts for no reason.

I still haven’t ruled out the sniper theory. But I don’t think anyone hated me that much to hire a hitman because of it. Then there was also the fact I felt no pain at all as I died and found myself here. No idea where here was, I mused glumly. The incessant beating never stopped, so I had to be somewhere, at least.

I wanted to sigh in despair, but my body was incapable of such an action. Wherever this place was that I found myself in, it felt like I was submerged in fluid. I was uncertain how I was still alive with no air to breathe. All that my body could do was twitch a little bit and that felt like a heavy work-out already.

Then again, it also felt really numb. I couldn’t tell if my limbs were all there or not, so I just prayed I wasn’t drugged on some substance that left me fully aware but incapable of everything else.

Perhaps this was hell? I mean, it kinda was unbearably hot and loud in here. Being submerged in water and drowning was one of my greatest fears, so this might be a punishment for whatever sin I committed. Not to mention the fear of being trapped within my own mind...

Maybe I should have gone to church while I was still alive? If God just punted everybody to hell for not going to church then I’m not certain I would have gone, anyway. It’s not worth following someone willing enough to do something like that to everybody not faithful to him, in that case.

I wasn’t particularly religious, to begin with, and it just made me stick with my belief in science more. Science was at least something understandable and didn’t care about your morals. I preferred to live by my own morals, thank you very much.

This is what I get for believing in science, wasn’t it? There was no way I could just simply believe in some higher being when science debunked everything the church had to say. At least whatever devil was watching over me, this wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

While I feared drowning quite a lot, I didn’t want to be subjected to physical torture, so I found it to be better like it was now. The constant but bearable suffering instead of the constant and painful suffering. In all my forty years of life, I always thought I was a decent person... so, why was I here, then?

As time went on, nothing seemed to change much. There was the occasional muffled sound reaching my immobile body that I couldn’t quite make out, but it always brought a sense of peace with it. My theory of this being hell was starting to lose its weight more and more.

There could be no pleasant things in hell, could there? I mean, sure, there was the possibility of me being granted a small reprieve and getting it cruelly stolen away, but I don’t think that was what was happening here.

It could be a very elaborate trap, I thought. Perhaps they wanted me to develop Stockholm syndrome? But why go to such lengths if there were way easier ways to accomplish that? Certainly not with the setting I found myself in, submerged in fluids, unable to move much, and the pounding that never stopped.

My perception of time was also slightly skewed, I had no way to count the hours efficiently. One little slip up had me counting anew, so at some point, I just gave up with trying to stave off the boredom like that. Counting time just managed to make me go slowly mad, anyway.

I would take my chances with boredom, then. Lest I go crazy and write strange symbols on the walls if I ever found them. And any time I actually tried to reach out towards the walls of my prison so I could try and break free from this accursed place, it felt sluggish and oddly different. I tried to put my finger on it, but even that I seemed to lack nowadays. Whatever happened to me, someone decided to steal my hands for some reason.

A strange thing to do by my captor, I had to say. Why would anyone even go so far as to cripple their prisoner like that? So they couldn't escape? A pair of cuffs would have done the job, too. Most of the time, that is. I didn’t know how to break free from those things, so they certainly would have been enough to keep me contained.

That is what I thought for a long time afterward. There was no way there could have been any other possible explanation but some kinda serial killer going around collecting hands for their sick pleasure. But as time continued on, I noticed my body was not normal. At least in human standards.

Well, I don’t think my captor thought it funny to glue my hands on my back and somehow make it possible for me so that I could still feel some amount of dexterity from them. I wish I could actually see something here in my weird cell, I wanted to look at what they had done to me, but my desires were left unanswered.

I also felt something that I shouldn’t have at where the end of my spine was supposed to be. I tried to figure out what it was, sometimes getting it to twitch. That left me wondering for days before I gave up making any sense of it. The theory I had was just ridiculous and I wanted to dismiss it by default.

Then, one day (at least I think it was during the daylight hours because I had the vague sense of my prison being moved around), I felt something poke me in my side with a nub of a limb. I assumed it was a limb, it had to be, because it gave me the strangest impression of someone kicking me aside for more space.

Dread started to fill my being and I did my best to ignore the most likely answer to my newest theory. I wasn’t alone in my prison, it seemed. Either this was indeed some scheme of a mass murderer going around stuffing people in tanks filled with liquid and somehow keeping them alive, or this was something even worse.

It wasn’t too hard to come to the conclusion that after me dying I ended up in the afterlife. Whether it was hell, the psychopath with a hand fetish, or reincarnation, I didn’t feel great about any of those possibilities. All of them were equally bad, in my opinion.

I always thought that after I died there would be nothing afterward. No hell, no heaven, no reincarnation. All of those were wishful fantasies of people afraid of dying, hoping that there would be something beyond life to make it less meaningless. I was realistic, though. The body had no such thing as a soul, I always believed. We would have found it with science already, would that have been the case.

What even was a soul, to begin with? Some imaginary component that allowed you to live on? Your very being? No, all we were was some data in the brain within our bodies, memories stored away until the time of ones passing. After that, the brain would start to die, and with it, erase what you were with each memory gone.

I really had a bleak outlook on life, hadn’t I? I swear, normally I’m not this philosophical about it. Generally, I’m quite a relaxed person, open to everything. My death must have changed that, or the boredom. I wasn’t sure about that, yet. I swore to rein in the bit of depression I found myself in.

No need to get into the mindset of life being a waste of time, after all. I found life to be interesting and worthwhile, it would be bad if that changed. Also, my wife would be so disappointed in me were she to hear my thoughts now.

There was another poke sometime later and this time I poked back annoyed. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, especially after I was taken from my family so suddenly that I had only this eternal prison as a place to grieve my loss, but the longer time went on, the more undeniable it got.

My sibling didn’t help in my grieving at all. That was the only thing that came to my mind that made any sense to me, which only proved to put on a bigger strain on my stressed-out mind. Wherever I was, this body was a second chance at life and I would have to content myself with never seeing my loved ones again.

That brought up the question of the soul, again. Perhaps there was some truth to it, something that could explain why I got this second chance. I always thought the brain was the only thing responsible for our memories, but if I had a new body now, how could I remember my old body? This wasn’t technically the same brain, right?

This new life was a second chance I didn’t want, though. Not if it meant that I had to leave behind my family. And, I had to admit to myself, there was no mistaking it as my body continued to grow within this womb. I had been reincarnated and I wasn’t human anymore. If the poking of my incessant sibling was any indicator, the limb was some kind of foreleg.

I’m pretty sure we were still mammalian in nature. That was at least some kind of relief, even though it was quickly overshadowed by another fear of mine. Was I now in the body of an animal? The original belief of reincarnation had something to do with karma, right? So, how shitty was my karma that I ended up in this position?

That thought filled me with even more dread. I didn’t want to be some sort of dumb animal for the rest of my life. I liked my ability of speech very much, thank you. And what even was I? Something with hooves, going by the shape of said limbs?

Was I doomed to live my life on a farm, being a beast of burden? Would I be robbed of my own freedom? Or would I end up in some zoo, being stared at all day long?

Were those human voices I sometimes heard? Were those my new owners, me being a mere object in their eyes? Or was I destined to live my life in isolation as a lab rat? Constantly being experimented on for whatever purpose...

I couldn’t take that reality, my poor existence wouldn’t be able to live with that.

Instead of torture in hell, a mass-murderer with a fetish for hands, or reincarnation as a human baby, I was some kind of genetic experiment in some obscure lab in the middle of nowhere, wasn’t I? But for what purpose would these extra limbs on my back be needed by them? Was it an attempt at breeding a weapon for an obscure and far-off war that was more efficient than a normal animal? Why even use animals in the first place when you had soldiers and machines to do the dirty work?

Even more dread started to rise up as my mind went over to some rich guy wanting an exotic pet, deciding to create some hybrid out of different animals. What was I? How come no one was putting a stop to this inhumane experiment? Or have I been reincarnated so far into the future that this was a legal thing now?

God, and here I thought people were panicking needlessly over the whole designer baby bullshit while I was still a human. Have they found a way to dramatically alter the genes of mammals that something of this magnitude was achievable?

Suddenly, I didn’t want to ever leave this place if it meant living in captivity by some rich idiot thinking this was okay. Everything was better than that possibility. Fuck, I would take hell over this! Or whatever other fate my mind could come up with.

Another poke brought me out of my panic-induced mind. I tried swatting the offending appendage away from me, although nothing came from it. Well, in the sense of getting my sibling to stop, from the outside I heard what sounded suspiciously like giggling and happy mumbling.

That couldn’t be right. I was sure the giggling came from the being I was currently taking unwanted refuge in. Was this genetic experiment even more convoluted than I originally thought?

Or... was this something different entirely?

My mind tried to remember every little bit and piece I could about fictional characters being reborn. I had read a lot over the years, most of the books I had were gathering dust in our personal library in our home. And in all the books I had read over the years, there wasn’t all that much about reincarnation to be found in them, in the first place.

If this wasn’t some kind of experiment and my new mother was apparently a being capable of speech, then where was I? What place even had other sentient species? Certainly not anywhere from where I came from. Earth was a vast place, but something like that would have been noticed ages ago.

The answer my brain provided to me was even more nerve-wracking than all my previous theories. While I have never heard of the concept of reincarnating as another creature as smart as humans, my thoughts went to those isekai novels my wife liked to read so much. She would flip her shit over something like this, enjoying every moment of it.

Besides the multitude of other, more perverted, things... Sometimes I wondered what went wrong in her childhood, but I had to admit that I loved her even more for it.

Reincarnated to a different world. That was the basic concept behind those story types, wasn’t it? That meant, not only was I now a child of some creature that apparently had weird limbs on their back, I was forever cut off from seeing my family. I couldn’t even see what future generations of my loved ones would have been like, had this been the future. No, I was entirely removed from that possibility.

This was worse than hell, a mass-murderer, some government experimenting on animals, a rich guy wanting exotic pets, and being reincarnated in the future, combined. My anguish lasted for what felt like months. All the while I was being subjected to the annoying touch of someone that couldn’t take a no for an answer.

Really reminded me of my wife, sometimes. She also didn’t know when to stop, especially when it came to the topic of sex. It mattered not where we were, she had no shame at all.

As time went on, regardless of what I felt about it, and I was left to quietly stew in my anger at the universe, it started to get tighter and tighter in our confines. I couldn’t hold on to my grief forever and I was getting tired of feeling miserable because of that.

Here I was, mourning the loss of something I would never be able to see again, wallowing in self-pity for such a long time my wife would have told me to get over it and start smiling again. Then she would have told me to have more sex, like the perverted idiot that she was. My perverted idiot, though...

I wanted to cry as I slowly began to feel acceptance for my predicament. Acceptance that I wasn’t coming back home, that I wouldn’t get to see my kids grow up and grant me grand-children, that I knew my wife would move on. Probably.

I felt angry that I was getting over this so easily as time passed on and the day of my rebirth came ever closer. I wanted to have my wife with me, so much. She was my rock, my everything. How could I go on without her?

And as I felt my body grow into the being that would see the light of day with entirely new eyes, I felt something even more devastatingly different about my body. It wasn’t the tail, the foreign limbs on my back, or the pointy thing on my head. No, it was what was between my hindlegs that changed my entire perspective anew.

I might have been someone that at some point wanted to know what it felt like on the other side of the fence, but coupled with everything that I had lost? I felt like laughing madly for the rest of time.

I was a friggin’ girl. A girl... pony? I think. I mean, my hooves (there was no mistaking that those were indeed hooves) were entirely too small to belong to a newborn horse. Not that I knew how big hooves were supposed to be, I guess.

How was I supposed to feel about this? On the one hand, or I guess hoof now, I wanted to rage and kick and scream about the unfairness of the universe, on the other one, I... felt kinda excited.

Excited to experience what no one before me could. At least, not to the degree of being biologically female. I felt... happy about this. Was this normal? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. But it felt so... right. As if I was meant to be female in the first place and I never realized it.

You know... like those transgender people I always empathized with. People didn’t deserve to be born with the wrong gender. It was a torture that no one should go through. Sadly, even with modern medicine, it couldn’t replicate a true female body. Those people would never experience the joy of being a parent like they should.

Sometimes I wondered what it would have been like had I been the one to carry our children, or at least one of them. A forgotten memory of a feeling resurfaced, a feeling of jealousy as I watched on as my wife carried our children instead of me.

It was like a punch to the face. An ice-cold realization.

I was transgender and never noticed it, not until now...

That would explain so much about my childhood. Feeling more comfortable around girls, having an aversion towards fighting, sweat, dirt, and grime other boys didn’t overly seem to mind as much as I, the occasional confused glance at some of the kids around me. Playing girly games.

All of that could actually mean nothing, although I was certain now that some part of me knew, always knew, that something was different about me. That there was something that set me apart from everyone.

The feelings of jealousy towards girls and other women. The fact I didn’t think there was anything wrong with wanting to know what it was like as one, too afraid to voice out such thoughts. Sometimes wondering what I would have looked like, had I been born female, to begin with.

I really was, wasn’t I? My heart told me I was right about this, but my mind rebelled against the idea. I loved my wife dearly, was that just a lie I told myself? That couldn’t be true, though! It couldn’t!

My mind was so occupied that I didn’t notice that something was changing around me. The confusion in me warred with every emotion, throwing me down a spiral of sadness and, oddly enough, happiness.

No, my feelings for my wife were never false, that I knew with absolute certainty. I might have been jealous of her, now that I think about it, but that didn’t change my feelings about her.

It was the body that was wrong at the time. Had I been a female in my previous life, I’m certain I still would have loved my wife with all my heart. In no way could anything less have happened, she was just the type of character that demanded someone to fall in love with her.

I was absolutely certain I still would have fallen in love with her, not only because I still felt attracted to females, but also because my wife was actually the perverted one in our relationship and wouldn’t have been stopped by me being the same gender as her.

She would have even loved it, I’m sure.

Some of the things she had me do bordered on dressing me up as a girl so she could at least pretend for a while to be in a lesbian relationship. I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed then, but now I knew. I knew with so much clarity, making me want to hit myself for having been so oblivious to my own plight.

Fuck, I’m sure if I had told her I had the suspicion that I was transgender, she would have found a way to be a pervert about it. She even would have made me go through with it, just to sate her fetishes. I couldn’t have gotten mad at her for that, even if I wanted to, mainly because her intentions are always well-meant.

A slight breeze fluttered against my face as I felt something wrap around me. For a moment I was confused at what was going on, as it was the first real break from the routine of sleeping, being poked at by my sibling, and the constant flood of thoughts.

Anything that broke the boredom was a welcome change I embraced with open arms. The feeling of coldness was almost alien now, not having experienced it in such a long while. Was I free now? Had I been released from the prison within my new mother?

And, as I opened my eyes for the first time, I happily noticed I wasn’t within the womb of my mother anymore. We were in what appeared as a small cottage and through an opening in the wall that could generously be called a window, I saw the sight of two suns in the sky, about to dip down below the horizon.

The loving faces of what could only be my father and mother greeted me with bright smiles. My mother was a beautiful mare, lacking the weird appendages I felt flutter at my sides, but a spiraling horn glowed a soft green color amidst the light blue mane. Her twinkling golden eyes looked upon me with pride and affection, while her dark blue muzzle was stretched out in a wide grin.

“She has my mother’s eyes, dear. Both of them,” the deep voice of my father spoke in a deep commanding tone.

“And they have your color of hair,” my mother smirked and I noticed that yes, I did have his hair color. A bright fucking pink. Seriously? I might have realized I wanted to actually be a girl but that didn’t have to mean I needed to go full tilt feminine. I wanted to try my luck at reincarnation again, just to be rid of this color scheme.

Argent Star, as I learned was his name, was a very tall stallion who had a pair of wings at his side. Bright white wings that shouldn’t be possible, by any means. I mean, a horn I understand, but what the fuck went wrong with their evolution that they had the possibility to have wings?!

That at least cleared away one mystery for me. Whatever I was, I was a cross between a unicorn and a pegasus. Chances are, my sibling has the same traits. I was a mini version of my father with a pointy nub on my forehead, and I wasn’t happy about that. I didn’t want to look almost exactly like my new father, for fuck’s sake!

“What should we name them?” he asked her and Lunar Sky, that’s the name of my new mother, gave out a small hum.

“A good question, dear,” she answered. “I don’t think any of the names we thought of would do them justice.”

Her eyes followed my curious stare out of the window towards where the two suns were setting.

“How about Summer Sol for this little cutie and Celestia Sol for this little mischievous filly?” she spoke up, setting me down beside the other bundle of cloth and fur.

“You’re naming them after the suns?” he asked her, a smile slowly spreading in approval. So, that was what they were called here? The Summer Sun, a nice name if I had to say so myself.

“They are our little rays of sunshine, are they not?” she shot back, daring him to say otherwise.

“That they are. They are quite unique, don’t you think so? I don’t think I have ever seen a hybrid between the two tribes before like that,” Argent said. “You don’t think they will be ostracized, do you?”

“I have no idea, dear,” Sky said, frowning slightly. “The tensions have been rising as of late. I don’t want to subject them to this unnecessary hatred.”

“We don’t have to fear for their well being here, we are living quite remotely from any settlement. Should the tension get out of hoof and reach us here then we can always pack up and move further south,” he reasoned, throwing a reassuring wing over her back.

“I hope you are right,” she said, leaning into his side with a little nuzzle. “For now, let us just enjoy this moment.”

“Yes, I imagine you must be quite tired after yelling so loud I fear you scared off every bird in the forest,” he chuckled, ignoring the friendly swat of his wife. As I let out a little yawn, I heard them coo at the sight. “Seems little Summer agrees with me.”

“Her sister seems quite energetic, though,” my mother commented, watching my sister as she broke free from her bundles of linen. My eyes shot wide open as I felt her glomp down on my left ear and I began to squirm in discomfort.

The memory of my wife flashed before me, her doing the same in quite a similar fashion during the last few years. It had been a new development of habit that she had gotten after reading one too many adult novels.

And the first thing my own sister did to me left me wanting to cry out in grief and sadness and mourning. I felt despair claw at my small heart, threatening to swallow me whole.

A green glow from the horn of my mother separated us two not a moment later. Argent was laughing silently all the while. At least one of us felt mirth at my discomfort, asshole. But, to be honest, I would have reacted the same way in his position so I didn’t hold it against him.

A few seconds later, I was also enveloped in the glow of what could only be magic, making me go wide-eyed at the feat with wonder and fascination. Not a moment later I got to see where she was taking me. My sister was already happily gorging herself on the milk from one of the teats in front of us.

Oh, for everything holy, this wasn’t really happening right now, was it? I mean, if my wife were in a situation like this she would happily go through with this, unable to repress the pervert in her.

My stomach let out a pang as I was set down in front of one of Mom’s teats and my mind threw a fit at me. I couldn’t really consider doing what my body demanded of me, could I?

This was something I hadn’t even considered all this time within the womb of my mother, always thinking about things that wouldn’t affect me for years to come. How could I have been so foolish? Of course, the essential need for sustenance would have to be addressed as soon as I wasn’t passively leeching off of my mother anymore.

I was admittedly (and shamefully) suckling beside my twin as my tummy demanded to be filled. This certainly wasn’t how I imagined the first few moments of my life to be like. It was degrading and embarrassing, but I shut out the complaining part of my psyche as I guiltily enjoyed the taste of the milk.

My sister had no qualms about trying to take away my dinner, either. Were it not for our mother, she would have succeeded, too. I could already tell that she would be a pain in the flank to deal with in the coming years. Celestia proved to be just as greedy for food as my wife and it was just as adorable as her stealing bits and pieces from my plate during the many dates we went on.

I forced myself to stop comparing her already to my wife, following where that road went only lead to madness. And with me still grieving the loss of my beloved, that was not something I wanted to entertain. Celestia was going to be her own person, damnit. Not some kind of replacement for Catherine, so I told my mind to stop comparing them to each other.

After our first meal was over, we were placed in a crib together, and sleep soon followed after. Celestia was a clingy newborn. I didn’t mind the embrace by her, though. It felt nice. A little smile graced both of our muzzles in our slumber.

I could do without the wakeup call of my sister nibbling on my ear, though. And in the middle of the night, too. I let out a little whimper, unable to stop the tears from coming as I also felt the pangs of hunger start up again.

Damn this childish body. Damn Celestia for making me cry. Damn me for making her cry in return. Only she was the loud one, not helping my poor ears and stressed-out self.

I might have dealt with my daughters like a loving parent when they cried to the heavens and not complained about it, but this was an entirely different matter. This wasn’t me taking care of a little baby, trying to figure out what it was that they wanted from me.

No, I was the child now and got to experience these things while perfectly capable of understanding what was happening to me, not like Celestia (or my first time as a baby, even though I don’t remember it). This was me filling the role of the newborn now, unable to properly address my need to the ones taking care of me.

Thankfully, our parents didn’t freak out trying to figure out what we wanted. It seemed Sky had a good mother’s intuition and was able to calm us down in record time. Seriously, I would have loved to have had her with me when I had my first kid. Perhaps it was something ponies knew on an instinctual level?

“You two are so adorable, my little fillies,” our mother whispered fondly, preventing my sister from going after my meal, again. “Now, if you would just stop going after your sister’s meal, everything would be just perfect.”

I couldn’t help the little burp from escaping me, managing to confuse me a bit. I thought horses didn’t do that, were ponies here different in some way? I mean, it wasn’t a big thing, not like the whole ‘having wings and horns’ thing, but still. What else was different in that case?

As it turns out, ponies are also perfectly capable of throwing up. I could have sworn horses weren’t supposed to be able to do that, either. Didn’t help that I now had a half-digested meal from Celestia all over me.

Way to go, sister. Way to go...

That led to us having to take a bath in the middle of the night. I could tell mother wasn’t too happy with that, but she gave us the bath with a loving smile on her muzzle.

Celestia was having fun with the warm water and a bit later with the end of my tail. I really wished she would stop using me as her chewing toy. At least she left my wings alone as I didn’t think I would enjoy being chewed on there.

Not long after our bath, we were back in our bed. Celestia managed to somehow drape herself right over my back and I found out that I didn’t quite mind as much as I thought I would. At least she wasn’t squishing my wings or nibbling on my ears this time around. Small miracles, that.

The next morning arrived in no time. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Celestia hadn’t latched on to any part of my body with her mouth, instead I saw her with the end of the blanket in her muzzle. The sight was entirely too adorable to resist giggling about it.

It was something that reminded me of my own daughter when she was as little as we were, now. She also had the habit of latching onto the blanket in her sleep, causing us to have to wash it every other day.

I even found myself forgiving her for throwing up on me last night. Already I felt myself growing closer to Celestia, actually enjoying her antics. Who could say no to this cute bundle of fur and feathers?

Just like I couldn’t resist the charm of Catherine, Celestia weaseled her way into my heart. Not in a romantic way, but a sisterly way. I would do my best to be the best sister I could be to her. She deserved at least that much, and my own family would roast my backside if I ever managed to hurt my own twin.

Even if that meant never being able to deny her whatever she wanted. Celestia could beg me for anything and I would say yes without hesitation. Something I dearly feared she would come to exploit in our later years, and I was sure she would somehow find out about it sooner or later.

I was bad at lying, after all. Saying no and meaning it? Yeah, that won’t ever come across as genuine. She would see right through it, I’m certain of that. If my wife was already notorious for doing so, Celestia would be just as able at it, I could tell.

As it turns out, my parents were also unable to say no to each of us. Over the following days, Celestia managed to break free from the confines of our bed by the use of the little appendages on her back. This also made me curious and soon enough we were absolute nightmares to deal with.

I’m not sure how I would have coped with flying children in my previous life, but it couldn’t have been anything good. I mean, I already felt like we should be bound down to our bed so we couldn’t hurt ourselves, to what would I have actually resorted to if I was the one having to take care of someone like me?

We were absolute monsters to our parents. Well, more to our dad because he couldn’t do jack-shit to stop us from getting to the most impossible places with our little wings. It was a miracle he wasn’t frothing at his mouth by the end of the first week, let alone the first month.

Celestia and I behaved like the curious children that didn’t know what no meant, constantly getting into trouble. At least, as long as our mother wasn’t there. She always managed to rein me in no matter what. I had to curse my childish body multiple times as I gave in to the urges of playing around like Celestia, managing to drive my father up the wall as he was unable to stop us like our mother could.

I was only slightly sorry for him, still not having forgiven him for inheriting his pink hair. I was fine with the white fur over my body, but I drew the line at pink. Seriously, why pink? Paint my walls pink for all I care, I don’t want to live the rest of my however long life with pink hair.

Please, don’t let me die randomly again. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime. The thought of leaving my adorable sister behind, too, would break my heart entirely. Let’s not dwell on such dark thoughts, Summer. You can do this.

Wait... did I just call myself Summer?

I mean, it kinda is my name now. Why wouldn’t I use it? Although, it left behind a bitter taste in my mouth. Was I really ready to just throw away my old identity for this? Rudolph Baker was dead, I guess. But still, was my old life getting less important to me now?

This new body seemed very insistent on adapting to my new environment. When I thought of my mom, I thought of Lunar Sky instead of my human mom... Did that make me a bad person? Pony?

No, I wasn’t throwing away my old life. I was... merely accepting my new one, I decided. I was still the same person I was as Rudolph. I still loved my human family as much as the newfound one here. I just... seemed to latch onto the only source of comfort and safety for now.

My old family wasn’t here to help me through these times (and literally change my diapers, although I wasn’t mad that I had to wear those). So, of course, I would feel that Mom meant Lunar Sky and not my old one. She was here currently, while I had left behind a grieving family.

Their son was dead, I had to accept that. I couldn’t come back, and even if I could, they wouldn’t recognize me like this. I had a family here and a loving one at that. Sure, Celestia was sometimes annoying, but weren’t all sisters supposed to be? I loved my family as a human and I vowed to love my new family just as much.

Now I wasn’t feeling as bad about calling myself Summer anymore. It didn’t feel like I was betraying my old self. Rather, I was honoring it. I would uphold the same ideals of kindness and generosity just as much as I did as Rudolph. I still held the thought of family above all else, no matter what stood in between.

I was a pony now. And that pony would be a good role model for my sister if it was the last thing I did! She deserves nothing less of me. The thought of having a sister of my own even filled my heart with warmth. If only Catherine was here with me. Everything would have been perfect in that case.

The first winter we experienced was unlike anything I had ever seen before on Earth. It was cold, for sure, but exponentially more beautiful. Trees that previously looked so ordinary, you wouldn’t have given them a second glance, were now turned into crystalline sculptures that demanded your full attention.

And the small lake by our house was like a perfect mirror, reflecting the breathtaking view of the stars from above. The glare of the suns that was reflected upon it made the surrounding trees and shrubberies sparkle, shine, and twinkle a brilliant yellowish red.

Our dad laughed at us as we pawed away at the falling snowflakes, gently drifting down from a single cloud up above. He had been gone all morning, doing whatever it was he did in his free time. As he came back, he told Mom he had a small surprise for her and bundled my sister and me up in as many layers as we needed to not freeze to death.

And then, he showed us the view we were all admiring now.

“Thank you, dear,” Sky said, resting her head against his. “It’s wonderful. And the fillies love it.”

“Of course,” he nuzzled her, a small smirk on his muzzle. “Anything for you.”

“Anything~?” she giggled, fluttering her eyelids at him. He let out a blush and I wanted to gag. Of course, they just had to go lovey-dovey on us and I’m sure I would hear them do it later in the evening after my sister and I had been fed. “What do you say to lighting up a few candles and...”

A slimy tongue invaded the inside of my ear as Celestia managed to tune their conversation out and for once I was glad she did so. I let out a squeal and she continued to abuse it even as I felt the chill of the air make my fur stand up straight. Pretty sure that was also something that ponies shouldn’t be capable of, but I didn’t care at the moment.

Celestia let out a happy hum, making me giggle from the vibrations running through my ear. I stayed still in her embrace, quietly suffering through her affections. I might have thought she did this on purpose, but that was just a ridiculous thought, wasn’t it? That would imply she was way smarter than I took her for.

All the other times of her acting like any child would have spoken against that, and I desperately held onto that notion. Otherwise, it would mean she was understanding what our parents were talking about and that was in no way okay in my mind.

She hadn’t seen them do that, had she? Oh, please, don’t let her have been traumatized by that, already! I’m not certain she even should understand what that act meant, but I have been wrong about so many things concerning ponies, for all I knew they knew what reproduction meant at an early age!

I wanted to throw up. I needed brain bleach, seriously. And then I needed brain bleach for my twin because that shouldn’t be something she should have any memories of. Fuck, those were memories I never wanted, either!

I felt myself get lifted off the ground by the familiar humming sound of our mother’s magic aura and we were brought back into the house. Mom settled herself in front of the fireplace, presenting her teats to us as she had done so often. I’m not sure when we would finally get to drink from bottles, I couldn’t wait to stop myself from feeling embarrassed each and every time we had to eat.

Celestia had no qualms about greedily sucking down the liquid from within them, though. And if I didn’t hurry, there would be nothing left for me and my hungry tummy.

“Not so hasty, little one,” Mom giggled, eating from her own plate Dad provided for her. Argent had put one of his wings over her back as they watched us with pride and fondness. Celestia disregarded her warning, still going at it like she was about to starve.

“Have to watch out for that one, dear,” Argent snickered, munching on whatever he and Mom were having for their meal. “If she continues like that, she will throw up again.”

“Not on my watch, Argent,” Sky shot back, looking back at him from an upturned muzzle. And thankfully, Celestia didn’t throw up on either of us.

The days were thankfully quiet, the only thing managing to break the monotony was Celestia continuing to harass my ear. Thankfully, neither of us ever witnessed our parents have their sexy-time and I was immensely glad for that.

One notable thing that happened was Celestia lighting up our bed with bright blue flames, causing our parents to panic for a moment. The giggling coming from my twin managed to calm them down (somewhat) and seeing that the flames didn’t actually consume us in a fiery blaze was cause for relief.

That begged the question though, how did Celestia do that? I had no luck with accessing my own magic (yet), so I wondered what she did differently than me. At least Mom was able to extinguish the flames before they actually grew out of control and started to burn things.

And continuing that disaster, Celestia turned random cushions and toys into plush versions of ourselves for a small number of times. Mom was giggling for days at the sight of our bed having been flooded with stuffed plushies looking so much like us you had to search through all of them to find our giggling selves.

After that, I actually got the hang on some basic telekinesis. It was surprisingly easy and instinctual, requiring only the desire to hold something aloft that made my horn light up in a golden aura.

That brought about an entirely new era of mischief on behalf of my twin and myself. Dad had no chance against us, me levitating around the plushies Tia created with the stuff I offered her.

Our army was vast. Our army was strong. Our army was endless!

Suffice to say, our mother put a stop to the antics of me and my sister after it got out of hoof entirely. I was pouting grumpily and Celestia happily returned to munching on my ears again.

There goes all my fun...