It was a cold winter's evening at the train station. All the rounds had been made and all the workers were busy getting their things together to leave. The loud train slowed to a stop. The last train of the day. The moon was already high in the cold night as it gave its last whistle as its load of passengers descended.

Alan waited. He was never one for crowds. He was simply a college professor who teaches young minds about the wonders of art, literature, and music. He is a middle-aged man with a rapidly receding hair line. Ever since he was younger, he had never liked large crowds. He would always feel out of place and anxious to leave, and so he waited. He waited until most of everybody had left before he stood and removed his briefcase from the rack above the seat. Alan cracked his back, shuddered at how good it felt, put one foot in front of the other, down the aisle, down the stairs, and stepped down into the cold night.

It was a very cold night. The chilled wind snipped and bit at the back of his neck. Alan fixed his collar to block it. He wasn't one for cold weather either. But that's life. It throws what it's got at you and the only thing you can do is make the best of it.

His briefcase hung heavy as he slowly walked to the far end of the platform where he had parked his car earlier that morning. He stopped. There was crying. It was faint, but it was definitely the sound of a little girl crying. He turned around and tried to determine where it was coming from. He strained to hear another sob but heard nothing. As Alan turned around to get back on his way and convincing himself that it was his old mind finally starting to go, he heard it. He stopped and listened. There it was! It was coming from behind a large billboard advertising the new smartphone that someone had propped up against the wall.

"Hello?" Alan asked cautiously as he slowly made my way to the board. "Are you okay?" he stuck his head behind the board to get a closer look and what he saw made him drop his case. Behind the board was some sort of small animal; it had a yellow coat with a long pink mane that drooped in front of one of its large green eyes and a long pink tail, it had wings, and it was crying in the same way a person would.

Alan couldn't believe his eyes. In front of him was something he did not know. He didn't know what to do. Should he call Animal Control? Alan decided against that and leaned in further. "Are you okay?" he asked again, not knowing if she understood any language.

The yellow animal stopped crying, wiped its eyes and cheeks with its hooves, and stood up. As he got a better look at what she was, Alan determined that at her tallest, she couldn't have been taller than his knee. She was certainly some sort of small horse or pony, but completely unlike any he had ever seen.

"Are you okay?" he asked again.

She looked at him with her green eyes and shook her head. His heart quivered. Alan held out his hand. "Come on. Let's go," he said gently, not trying to scare her as she gave him a weary and terrified look. "Come on, let's get you out of the cold. It's pretty cold tonight. Let's get you someplace warm."

As if she recognized the word "warm", she slowly took one step, and then another, and then another until she placed her cold cheek against the warm skin of his palm. Alan's heart quivered again. It's not good for an old man's heart to quiver so much, but he endured it. Alan slung his case over his shoulder, making use of its shoulder strap, and lifted her into his arms. She protested a little at first, but quieted down as a stiff gust of cold wind bit at them both.

"It's just a little further," Alan said as she buried her head into the bend of his elbow. They came to the end of the platform. "See? Here we are."

Alan gingerly stepped down the steps from the platform and placed her down on the sidewalk. He took his keys from his pocket and his freezing fingers fumbled to unlock the door. He lifted her up into the front passenger seat, closed the door, and made his way to his side. Alan placed his case in the backseat, started the ignition, and turned on the heat. He directed most of the heat to the shivering little pony that had curled up in the seat, her head contently tucked under her wing. Alan reached his hand out and petted her neck and long pink mane. She trembled at the touch, but feeling its warmth and the kindness of it, she moved her head closer and nuzzled his palm. His heart quivered again.

Alan pulled the car out of the parking lot and under the high moon, he drove with his precious find sleeping cozily with her head tucked under her wing.

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