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Those who walk away from ponyville

by datdamnface

Chapter 1: Those who walk from Ponyville


Those who walk from Ponyville

Come with me for a moment.

The citizens of Ponyville stomped their hooves and whistled in raucous applause as the mayor announced yet another successful Winter Wrap Up. Flags stood atop full masts and fluttered in the breeze, the symbol of a pony rearing up on two legs with the sun in the background adorned each one. The citizens quickly broke up the meeting and started talking and walking as they went about their daily business preparing for the Winter-Wrap Up festival which occurred after, you guess it, Winter-Wrap Up.  

As you can guess the citizens of Ponyville were happy folk, it seemed to emanate from everything. Happiness and love, intertwining like two doves soaring through the open skies. They shared their love with everything, from the animals to their crafts. They were masters at everything they did, from the most beautiful of songs to the most succulent fruits to the most artfully crafted of furniture and art.

They were not simple people, not in the least. They were grown adults and foals with light hearts and open minds. Their fields stood fertile and green and their weather was ambient and serene, not a cloud in the sky yet a soft summer's breeze gently ruffling the leaves of strong oak trees which watched like sentinels over the citizens as they frolicked and worked and played.

They all wore smiles on their faces as they did so.

Now this all sounds nice and touching doesn't it?

Other cities and ponies looked down on them because of their proximity to other towns and cities, Ponyville was a hard walk to Canterlot and an even longer walk to Manehattan, and those were the closest cities within a 50 mile radius. The high nobles of Canterlot looked down on them and huffed whenever they walked by, calling them 'rustic' and 'simple-minded'. Manehattanites called them 'happy-go-lucky' and 'ignorant of the real world'.

They knew of all these whispered falsities but still the walked on with smiles on their faces. From the town of Ponvyille came Equestria's best and most heartfelt music, the tastiest of fruits ranging from rare Zap Apples to Mangoes which were simply to die for.

Do ya see what i'm getting at? Ponyville was a town unbothered by the stress of civilization, they were however not simple in their ways.

Their town was beautiful, their lives filled with purpose and joy, their children bright and happy. They were town which had known struggle of course but fought through it and always forgave and rebuilt.

Do they sound like goody-goodies? Jeez why not add some chaos? Well I mean it has already happened with the whole Discord and Elements of Harmony thing and yada yada yada.


These ponies seem to have it all yes? A good life, a happy home, and joy in everything done.

Now here's an interesting fact, in the basement of Ponyville's Mayor's office was a locked door.

Behind that locked door was a small colt which looked about 7, he was however 10 years old, his age reversed by malnutrition and pestilence. The basement was hard-packed earth which was slightly moist like most cellars were. A godray of sunlight peeped through raggedy shades which blocked most of the sunlight.

The colt in question knelt in a corner quietly shivering and keening, he used to be able to talk but had stopped doing so after  years in the basement. He was blind and deaf and retarded, this was all due to a pact.


Nopony knew who formed the pact or why, not even the princesses. It however, is a cruel thing. It states that due to the suffering of this child, the town would flourish, if the child was taken out and showed mercy and kindness, all the goodness of the town would wilt like a flower without sun.


Everypony knew it was there, most if not all the town's folk had gone to see it. Usually it was explained to the foals when they reached the age of 12, by this time they were required by law to go visit him.


The small colt was white in color with creme colored spots all over his body and a large blotch on his left eye. He still wore the pirates outfit from his very first Nightmare Night as he shivered in the corner.

He shivered and hid his eyes from the shred of light, he keened and moaned as he rocked back and forth gently, wishing the light away. He knew however, that it was still there, it would always be there.


He had no real recollection of time since he couldn't hear or see, but he could feel and when the cellar door which was usually locked opened, somepony would usually kick him to stand up. He used to cry and yell "please i'll be good! Please can I see my mummy now? I promise!" He used to yell, now he only keened as he felt their shocked and disgusted eyes on him.


Most of the time he sat in his own feces and excrement, sometimes he would play with himself or pick his nose or lick his parts clean like a dog, by now he was far gone from any etiquette.


Usually the group of about 7 class-kids would look on in shock and horror, sometimes there was an adult in the group, one who had already seen this colt and came by to pay it a visit.


Most of the ponies in said group would go home that night in tears or in steaming rage, they would scream and shout or break down in crying.

After a bit of time though, they would soon realize the error of their ways. If anypony was to take the colt out of his hell-hole, feed him and clean him, in that hour and day the beauty of the town would crumble.

And what if they did? He would only feel a vague sense of relief and satisfaction. To add to that he was too far gone in his mental condition to be taught or brought into society as most of his habits were unethical and downright disgusting.

Yes it was this cruel twist of life that ponies soon came to understand and embrace. The sheer helplessness in the face of this colt as they watched him keen, his bones and beating heart visible through his grime and shit caked coat.

They understood that if not for this colt's suffering, their music wouldn't be as beautiful, their food not as scrumptious, their crafts not as awe inspiring, and an emptiness in their lives.

And thus the citizens of Ponyville would go about their lives caring for their plants and animals and celebrating the beauty in their lives which was robbed of the colt. It was due to this poor child that they were especially tender and loving to other children, if not for that colt their own wouldn't prosper as they did.




Disgusted? Angered? Saddened? Don't be, this is the simple fact of things.

However there is an exception to the rules, and this is quite amazing if I do say so myself.


There is however, one pony in the group which usually falls quiet after they arrive, sometimes it's one of the school-kids, sometimes it is one of the returning adults.

They fall silent for a little while, let's follow one of them for a moment shall we?




Scootaloo arrived in her makeshift home within the Cutie Mark Crusader's Clubhouse, she mechanically made her way over to the small couch and sat down, reflecting on what she had seen.

Earlier that day, their class had made their way down to the colt and had seen him with their own eyes. Scootaloo, Sweetie Bell, and Applebloom had all seen the colt and were all disgusted by this. Later after they had left Scootaloo had made her way over to Cheerilee and confronted her.

"Why don't you go save him?!? Nopony deserves to suffer like that!" She had screamed at the schoolteacher who wouldn't look her in the eyes. "Look, Scootaloo....you'll understand when you're older."She had almost whispered walking away.

Now Scootaloo sat and shared the colt' pain of being alone and scared with nopony to comfort them.


"Should one pony suffer for the lives of other's?" She asked herself.




Now, someponies fall silent for a day or two as they think, eventually they make up their minds and start walking. They walk from their homes through the Ponyville Promenade, through the farmlands of Sweet Apple Acres, through the small mud and brick homes on the outskirts of the town.


They walk to a place so marvelous that words cannot capture it.

I cannot say where they go, those who leave. What I can say is they seem certain in their paths.


Those who walk away from Ponyville.

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