Part One

>You are anon
>It's been nearly a year since a mysterious portal/Twilight's spell gone wrong/other half baked excuse to get a human into Equestria brought you to this strange world of ponies
>Since then you've adjusted well to your new environment
>You got a job scooping cat litter (turns out earth pony cat owners aren't good at holding a pooper scooper, but your hands are perfect for the job)
>But cleaning cat shit doesn't pay very well, so in order to keep up with rent you needed a roommate
>The only applicant was a rather different pony
>She pays her half of the rent, keeps to herself (which isn't difficult when your asleep when she's awake and vice versa)
>Regardless of the nocturnality, the piercing yellow eyes, leathery wings and tufts at the end of her ears she's the perfect roommate
>Her name is Silver Light, Syl for short

>It is 11pm
>The sun is down, but it's not quite time for bed
>This is usually the only time you and Syl cross paths, other than when she wakes up for an "afternoon snack"
>You've just gotten home from a long day of removing feline waste
>The ammonia-intensified smell of catpiss wafts about you like cologne
>Normally you'd have gotten home a lot earlier, but Opal had left several more "surprises" than usual this time
>And you'd spent quite a bit of time arguing with Rarity about extra payment
>And even if that had kinda been a dick move, Rarity was able to afford it
>Her life's calling involved finding precious jewels through fucking intuition after all, and you needed that money dammit
>You sigh, and walk towards the shower
>You see Syl in the hall
>"Oh hey Ano--Oh GOD, did you bathe in vinegar?"
"No. Just cat pee. And hello to you too,"
>you say somberly.
>You step through the bathroom door and close it before any further conversation can take place. You're too tired to talk.
>You shower, dry and dress
>You head into the kitchen for something to eat before heading to bed. That something becomes an apple.
>You bite into it. It's crisp, juicy, with magnificient texture. Syl is great at picking out the best apples.
>And it's just as well that she buys the apples, because on your cat-crap wages you can't afford healthy food.
>You hear the rhythmic tapping of hooves approach, and turn to see Syl, a sight that captures your train of thought for several moments

>You hadn't turned any lights on, finding your way by the radiance of the moon
>A radiance that reflects of off Syl's Silver-grey coat in a very aesthetically pleasing manner
>Like light bouncing from stainless steel, but fainter, diffused
>The rays curve exquisitely around the gentle slopes of her minuscule body
>The scene portrays her form as soft, friendly, supple; and the moonlight accentuates that while adding its own sharp, mysterious edge
>And you find yourself thinking of this image in contrast to who Syl is as a person (or pony)
>She tolerates your poverty, and by becoming your roommate saved you from the streets. She's generous and forgiving, acceptant. Soft spoken. Modest.
>You begin to realize fully, that you admire her. The knowledge had always been in the back of your mind, but now that it's come to the surface of your consciousness you find yourself feeling something deeper than admiration
>A strong appreciation. A connection. Despite your larger size, you feel smaller than her; though not in a bad, demeaning or inferior way.
>None of this is sexual in nature however. Even your visual fascination is only in the same spirit as fascination with a beautiful painting.
>Right?
>And then she gets that look. And your thoughts snap back to the present.
>She gets that look when she's nervous. Her tufted ears flatten backwards, and her eyes make the impression that she is very concerned.
>All to give her the appearance of a well meaning but rather brainless otter.
>"Anon, why are you staring at me like that?"
>You shake your head.
"Uh, sorry. Must have zoned out for a bit. I'm just tired is all."
>"M-hm."
>You finish your apple and go to bed.

>You sleep in that morning. In fact, it's afternoon by the time you get up. Syl is asleep by then.
>You dress, and head towards the living room. Today you aren't on cat-waste duty, fortunately.
>You sit down on the couch and pick up a book from the coffee table. It has two bookmarks, one white, one black.
>This is something you and Syl do. Both choose a book, and you read it during the day, Syl during the night.
>In the overlapping times of wakefulness in your sleeping patterns, you talk about what you've read.
>The black marker is much further along than the white one. Syl's a faster reader than you, but you're both okay with that.
>A door opens somewhere in the house. You glance at the clock to see it's half past noon. Just the time for an afternoon snack.
>You hear Syl patter along to the kitchen.
>"The fridge is empty," she says.
>Damn that's right! That apple you had was the last of the food. Now theirs just milk, butter, and a few rotten carrots.
>But the pantry. . .
>"Pantry too."
>Damn.
"Yeah, just tough it out for like, two hours. I'll go get groceries."
>"I plan to be asleep in two hours."
>You sigh. Syl walks into the room and looks at you for a second. Then, she get's that look.
"Syl? Something wrong?"

>"Anon. . ."
"Yeah?"
>"M-Maybe you could just. . . Do a. . . A. . ."
>She opens her mouth and tilts her head upwards, showing you her teeth and throat, like she's at the dentist.
>Say ah!
"Are you okay?"
>She looks down at the ground, and you'd swear if those ears went back any further they'd fall off.
>"Yeah. . . I was. . ."
>What the hell is wrong with this pony?
>"Can I drink your blood?"
>The question hits you like a bag of used cat litter. You freeze. You try to speak, but with nothing to say you choke.
"You want to drink my blood?"
>"I promise it won't hurt at all! Well, maybe a little. But not too much! And I just need you to do it once! Trust me, it'll--
N-No! No, you can't drink my fucking blood, what kind of sick idea is that?
>She stares at you, eyes wide for an extended period.
>"O-Oh, okay. Sorry I asked." She lowers her head in shame, and starts back towards her bedroom, still hungry. "Sorry," she says again.
>You hear her door close. For a while you sit there in shock, thinking of what just happened.
>Once you've calmed down slightly, you feel bad for yelling at Syl.
>Upon further reflection, you come to the conclusion that maybe blood drinking wasn't such an absurd idea to Syl as it was to you
>She was a bat too. So maybe it was normal, and not completely retarded or some fetishistic perversion.
>Still not feeling quite right, you open the book to the white marker
>Not able concentrate on reading at the moment, you decide to go out and do groceries
>You go to bed early that night, not wanting to face Syl

>You are Silver Light
>It is four in the morning of the night after you asked Anon for his blood
>His reaction was a bit jarring, but understandable. What was normality for you was the trademark of monsters to him
>And you're sure he'll understand your side as well, after some thought and, at most, an explanation from yourself
>But using logic to overcome Anon's inherent disgust with blood-sucking isn't your only problem
>Sure, you could talk it out with him tomorrow, but would he agree now that there actually was food here for you to eat?
>And even if you could get him into the same situation as last night, he'd find some reason not to let you
>You could see it now, "Can't you feed off of something else?" he'd say, or, "Do you really NEED to drink my blood? You'll live until tomorrow without it right?
>The problem was, as you spent more and more time with Anon, you became curious as to how his blood tasted. 
>The curiosity festered until it became obsession; until life revolved around trying to find a way to get him to agree to let you taste it
>That was the problem, and couldn't be dealt with using logic.
>You could always go into his room while he was asleep and take it from him, without asking
>But what if he wakes up? He'd never trust you again. He'd probably move out.
>And you wouldn't want that happening, not just because of the blood, but because after several months of living together you enjoy his company, or what little of it you share
>But you can't get your mind off his blood. Thoughts of how it would taste, of how fulfilling one drink would be repeat restlessly in your mind
>You try to read your and Anon's book to get your mind off it, but you can't focus on the words.
>Soon you can't take it anymore. You look at the clock. Anon should be asleep right now. You head up to his room.

>You push on the door, and wince as it slowly creaks open. You poke your head through, and see Anon sleeping.
>You slither into his room and over to his bed, trotting carefully. His face is so peaceful, so innocent and unsuspecting in the moonlight.
>You hesitate for some last minute contemplation of what you are about to do. If he woke up, it could ruin what was becoming an amazing friendship.
>Yet still you wanted to go through with it.
>You're sure this obsession isn't healthy.
>But it should be over soon. Just one feeding, and that's all you'd need.
>Besides, you'd probably drink his blood and find it nothing remarkable. Different probably, but nothing to die for. Then you could move on like it had never happened
>You climb onto his bed. His shoulders are above the covers, and his torso is naked. Good, that made it easier
>You bare your fangs and lower your head, aiming for the place that connects the neck to shoulder
>Just as your teeth are about to make contact with his skin, he shifts position slightly. You look up at his face and. . .
>His eyes are open.

>Wide open. His pupils dilate. Were you not mortified at what this situation could grow into, it would've been cute how scared he was.
>He throws off his covers, and reveals that not only his torso is naked, but his whole person. For the first time you see a human member.
>It's much smaller than a stallions. And the veiny-ness is more apparent in ways. And there's a wrinkly flap of skin on the end, obscuring the head.
>Suddenly a loud thought echoes in your mind: "Uncut master race." You have no idea why, and no idea what it means.
>Anon stands up on his bed and starts yelling at the top of his lungs.
>You don't hear a single word he says. Your to focused on his penis, swaying like a bit of loose rope 
>It's a morbid fascination, not sexual, but in awe and slight anxiety of its implied sexuality
>Anon moves erratically, jiggling the bed under the both of you. He is making articulate motions with his hands, to help illustrate his point
>His point which is soaring right over your head because you are more interested in the choreography of his testicles--knocking each other around in a loose scrotum and making a barely audible slapping noises on his thighs--than that of his hands
>And he's still yelling, yelling, not a single word of it you hear because your attention is totally captured by the disturbing and vaguely funny image of his flimsy, rubbery phallus swinging back and forth in front of his dancing balls
>And then, several moments after it's happened, you process that he's leaped off his bed, gone to his drawers and pulled out a single pair of pants
>He runs out of the room with them, and you move towards the window through which you can see him run--still naked--out into the middle of the front lawn, pants trailing behind him like a flag
>He bends over and pulls them on, then runs down the street until he is out of sight.

Le fin.

Part Two

>You are Silver Light
>It is midday, and you just got home from doing groceries
>Anon is sitting on the couch, reading the book. He has passed the black marker
>He is also naked
>This startles you, until you've had a moment to think about it
>No one else wears clothes as often as him, maybe he decided to try letting it all hang out
>Though he stands on two legs--and even if he didn't he'd have no tail or fur to obscure his genitals--that would make it a lot easier to see his privates
>Still, there was no law against being naked. If there was everyone would be in jail
>You put the groceries away, and return to the living room
>You sit on the couch next to Anon
>You stretch your neck upwards and look through his arms, between his legs at his sex
>On a whim, you reach out a hoof and touch it gingerly
>Anon doesn't react
>You then push on it, a little more forcefully
>He remains as he is, like a statue
>You lay your hoof on top of it, feeling how it depresses under the weight of your leg
>You leave your hoof there, and gaze at it
>While the fascination is not sexual, merely a curiosity of something you've never seen before, you feel a small pulse of heat in your nether regions
>And then something surprises you
>Anon's penis is getting bigger!
>It's throbbing slightly, growing and becoming harder with every pulse
>You remove your hoof and watch as it bobs up and down slightly, higher and higher until it is fully erect
>Still anon has not moved
>You touch it again, and find it less soft
>Now solid, it doesn't yield when you press on it
>Now you find that you yourself are aroused
>You seem to have developed an attraction to your roommate
>You slide off of the couch, and sit in front of Anon
>He looks big when you stand, but sitting down, he looks to be a giant
>You pause, regard him, then push his legs open and squeeze yourself between them

>You look up at him. His face is blank, stern, solemn
>He is staring intently at the pages of the book, but his eyes don't move
>How can he read without moving his eyes?
>His expression could be construed as annoyance, maybe he is waiting for you to leave?
>You look back down at his penis, and decide to put it in your mouth, just to see what happens
>You slide your lips over the head, then halfway down his shaft
>You look up at him again, and find him still in the precise position he was in when you got home
>You slide your mouth along his member, up and down, experimentally
>When he doesn't do anything, you continue, faster, with passion
>You press your tongue against his head and lick roughly
>You can feel his heartbeat through his penis
>It is strong, steady, unyielding. It moves slowly, despite your actions
>You move in rythm with it, up down up beat, down up down beat
>You feel his blood rush under your lips
>So close, only a thin layer of skin between you
>You can even feel the veins that it pumps through
>You let a fang scrape the side of his shaft, letting the blood out
>The taste of salt and iron fills your mouth
>And then you wake up

>Laying in bed, gazing at the ceiling, you reflect on your dream
>It was very odd. Though you couldn't say you regretted having it. It was interesting
>Two days ago you saw anon run off into the night in nothing but his pants
>He hadn't even bothered to put on shoes
>After a long time of being concerned, you decided to just accept it
>What could you do after all? Anon was an adult, not a child to be chased after
>So what you could do was wait. And hope
>You finished the book, but couldn't start another one without him. You just stare at the white marker where he'd left off
>You really miss him. It's so strange to be in an empty house, and lonely
>And now this dream. What the hell did it mean? Were you really attracted to Anon?
>You sigh, and roll over, and brood on Anon's absence until the moon comes up.

>You are Anon. You are walking next to train tracks.
>Two days ago, you ran away from home. You ran and ran until you couldn't run anymore, so you walked
>And then you walked until you came upon these train tracks next to the Everfree forest. And kept walking
>Walked until the sun rose, and kept on after that as well, until every step stung, and then you continued even after that
>You'd known you probably should've stopped, and gone back home
>But that would mean figuring out this whole Syl-wanting-to-suck-your-blood dilemma
>And you really didn't want to think about that. So you kept on walking, to keep yourself from thinking
>And really, how could Syl do that?
>She'd already asked you for your blood, and you said no
>And that was just a gut reaction. Hell, maybe if you'd both talked it over rationally, you would've agreed
>But she'd tried to take it from you without permission, while you slept! How could you ever trust someone so audacious?
>With any other issue, one could keep an eye on such a person while they were awake, defend themselves if necessary
>But there could be none of that in this scenario
>She'd go after you at your most vulnerable, how could you ever sleep near her again?
>You walk until the sun is low in the sky. You realize you'll need to sleep soon, especially after all that walking.
>You move to a boulder off to the left of the tracks by the forest, and sit against it
>Thinking uneasy thoughts of nasty creatures coming to you and stealing your essence in the night, you fall asleep.

>You wake up, and start walking. You walk and walk, and get the idea that the tracks go on forever
>You keep on trekking, and eventually, you see buildings in the distance
>You continue towards them, and soon see these aren't like the buildings in Ponyville
>They're tall, made of brick, and rectangular
>No, these aren't pony buildings at all. They look to be of human design
>When you finally reach them, you see a man
>Not a pony, or batpony, an actual man
>Have you somehow gotten back to earth?
>The man, who's dressed in a suit, is reaching into his pocket
>He pulls out keys, and is heading towards a parking lot
>You run towards him
"Sir? Sir!"
>you yell.
>He turns.
"Excuse me, but can you tell me, where I am?"
>He stares intensely at you, like you are some sort of impossible puzzle
>And why not? You are a random half-naked barefoot man, sweaty and smelly from walking, and in slight need of a shave
>"You are on Argyle Road," he says slowly.
>Of course! Argyle Road! This is a street in the town you live (or used to live in)

>You can recognize that restaurant down the street!
>You laugh, a laugh that starts small in the core of you stomach and is booming by the time it passes your lips.
>The man is now visibly frightened
"Oh thank god!"
>you say.
"Thank YOU, random stranger!"
>You lean forward and embrace the man tightly
>He stiffens remarkably, and makes a throaty "ulgh" noise like he's about to puke, but you don't care
>"Thank you,"
>you whisper, body heaving slightly from chuckling, and crying just a little
>"Y-your welcome sir. Please let go of me."
>You let go and laugh, and he brushes himself off
>You break into a run and sprint away, arms in the air
>Leaving a very confused stranger behind looking after you. Well, at least he has an interesting story to tell his friends
>You run right through an intersection, feeling as if your entire person has been lifted up to heaven
>Angry drivers honk, and one drives right past you with half his body out the window yelling
>"SHITHEEEEEEEEAAAaaaaaaaaaad!" with a nice drop effect
>Elation was the word you thought of, but you felt it not only in your mind, but your whole being.
>It's almost too good to be true!
>Wait
>Is it?
>You were too happy to question your reality, but now. . .
>Oh no
>You see reality fade before your eyes and--
>You wake up

>You are sitting against the boulder again
>You spend a few moments processing what has occurred
>Once you are finished, you stand up with violent purpose
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
>You scream
>You kick the boulder, and instantly regret it
"Shitshitshithshitshit!"
>You say through grit teeth as you clutch your bare right foot
>And then you give up. You just fall to the ground and cry, right there
>Nurturing your hurt foot
>Why did it have to be a dream?
>You were home, you could have GONE home, pretended this whole Equestria nonsense was just some awful nightmare
>But no, you're stuck here
>A grumble in your stomach rouses you from your self pity
>The last time you ate was the day before last
>You stand up again with a new resolve
>There's no use in crying, you see now. But there is use in doing.
>Like Morgan Freeman said, "You either get busy doin', or get busy cryin'."
>Or was it dying?
>Fuck it, it doesn't matter.
>The point is, crying won't do anything for you, while walking down these train tracks will tell you where these fucking train tracks go
>And maybe get you some food
>So you keep on walkin' walkin' walkin', doin' instead of crying (or dying, god forbid)

>After a while, you've lost your determination
>Your legs are burning, in a way that feels literal. Your muscles are ready to involuntarily give up
>And you are famished. Your stomach has knotted so much as to become some abstract, theoretical manifestation of negative space
>But you keep dragging your feet
>You're thinking maybe you should turn back
>The idea that you could actually die out here enters your mind for the first time
>A human being can survive somewhere between a week and ten days without food
>And three days without food
>Probably less for you, as you've been walking for half of the past day and a half
>So turning around would be a good idea. You'd arrive a parched skeleton but alive (although if Syl tried to take your blood then you'd most likely die)
>You try to think, were there any berry bushes or something similar next to the forest on the way here?
>No, no there were not
>But against all logic, you trudge away from Ponyville, and don't change direction
>And soon it is night
>And you have been walking for two days
>But you are ready to walk for two-hundred more!
>If only that were physiologically possible
>Your stomach growls and convulses violently, almost like it's angry with you
>You see a light in the Everfree forest
>And a path leading towards it
>You're first thought is, they might have food
>Your second is that you don't want to enter the dark creepy forest
>But fuck that fear, you think. You are a big ass human being, ain't nobody gonna fuck with you
>And if anyone does, you gon wreck their shit, 'cause your a big ass human, top of the food chain
>But you fail to convince yourself, you're still scared
>You really don't want to go in there
>But then your stomach decides to make its presence known to you
>And the hunger overrides the fear

>You walk into the forest, down the path, after the light
>Then the light flickers, and goes out
>Fuck
>This brings back strong memories of creepy stories on the internet
>Stories of people lost in the forest at night, being lured by strange lights, tortured and attacked by terrible monsters
>You are seriously freaked out right now, there are so many ways that this could go bad
>You look behind you, and cannot see where the forest opens up
>You might as well keep going. If there is some supernatural horror here out to get you, you're probably already fucked anyway.
>As long as you stay on the path, you'll always know the way back
>So you continue
>And eventually, you come to a ramshackle little wooden house
>Well this totally isn't reminiscent of old folk horror tales
>You walk up the steps and cringe as every stair squeals at an intolerably high pitch
>You are now standing in front of the door
"I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I'm in desperate need of help! I'm stranded, and starving to death!"
>You knock on the door
>The force pushes it open as it wasn't properly closed
>You really don't like this
>You push through the door
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
>Something heavy hits you in the back of the head. You see the floor rushing up towards you, and reality fades to black.

Part Three
>You are Anon
>And you are just returning to the conscious world
>It is not a pleasant affair
>You have an awful headache. 
>You feel like a devilish machine is clamped onto your skull from behind and is squeezing with force only achievable by robots
>A piercing, high pitched hum is steadily and constantly sounding in your ear, like tinnitus
>You open your eyes to have them assaulted by light. Squinting, you can only see everything in a blur
>And every one of these factors accentuates all others, so you are in infinite pain
>And on top of all of it you are still fucking hungry
>What's this? A blurry figure looming over you.
>"Did you have a good rest? Kekekekekeke. . ." a raspy, feminine voice hisses at you
>What the fuck. . .
>Oh good lord, not another fucking batpony
>Slit pupils, tufted ears, bat wings
>Yup, it's a batpony
>You groan. This pain plus another wing-ed bloodsucker has put you in a state of utter dismay.
>"Well I can see your not feeling quite. . ."
>The thing enacts something between a snicker and a chortle
>"Up to bat right now."
>That has got to be the least funny thing you've ever heard. It's even worse in context, given that she knocked you out
>You try to sit up, but it appears the machine on your head doesn't like movement, and punishes you with an abrupt squeeze
>For now, your pillow is bliss
>"Sorry for you know, puttin' you down for a nap there. Kekekekeke. . ."
>You grunt in acknowledgement of her apology
>"That must've really. . . Sucked. Kekekekeke. . ."
>Suck. That word startles you so much you forget about the head-machine and sit up so fast you feel as if your head should have imploded into a black hole
"Oh Jesus Christ, this has been the worst couple of days,"
>you half say, half sob as you cradle your head in your hand, now feeling nauseous

>You move your hand around your head to touch the back
>Something as slight as tapping it gently is painful
>There's a big lump, and the hair around the wound is stiff with what you assume is blood
>There'd be time for inspecting and dealing with wounds later, though
>Right now you needed to think
>But even that was difficult with this headache
>What you wanted now was to lay back down and enter a world where pain was just an idea
>But think: you were unconscious for who knows how long around a batpony
>If Syl, who knew you well, was willing to feed off of you while you slept, what would've stopped this stranger?
>"Tell me," says the batpony. "Do you have a name."
"Anonymous. Anon for short."
>"Cool name!" She holds out her hoof. "Mine's Ashas!"
>Apprehensively, you take her hoof and shake it
"Nice to meet you Ashas."
>There is a brief silence
"So, you seem friendly enough now. Care to tell me why when I first arrived you hit me over the head with a. . ."
>Ashas jumps up at this. "Ooh, Ooh!"
>She runs over to the door, which, after some deductive reasoning you conclude leads outside
>Judging by the size of the room you're in, it's the only one in the house
>There's a stove, a table, chairs, several boxes and of course the bed your in
>It's the only bed in the house so you assume it's Ashas'
>She comes back from the door with a baseball bat and drops it by the bed
>She grins at you, looks at the bat then back up at you
>"This is what I used to hit you!" she says excitedly
>She snickers again, then bursts out, "It's a BAT!" and laughs
>It takes you a moment but you get her joke
"Yeah, very funny, but you still haven't told me why you felt compelled to use it."
>"Oh. Well, the thing is. . ."

>"You scared me."
"Huh?"
>The idea of you scaring the batpony instead of the other way around was something that never would have occurred to you on its own
>"Yeah. Your footsteps on the stairs were so loud and you started asking for help, and I kept remembering this story a friend told me at a campfire about a creature that asks for help so it can enter your home and then it eats you, and then you walked in and you were so big and tall, and I was really scared so I hit you on the head with this bat."
"Uh. . . Um. . . Okay."
>You could accept that story. After all you are a BIG ASS HUMAN TOP OF THE FOODCHAIN MOTHERFUCKERS
>And now Ashas was giving you this pouty, ashamed puppy dog eye look that was making it really hard to not forgive her
"Look, I wasn't just being a deceptive monster when I said I needed help. I really do."
>"Okay!" Her face has gone from pouty to beaming. "What do you need?"
"Well, I haven't eaten in quite a while."
>"Alright! I'll rustle something up for us!
>Twenty minutes later, you are eating the best BLT ever made
>Or maybe it's so good because it's the first thing you've eaten in days
>Still it's amazing. Like every tastebud in your mouth is having a thousand simultaneous orgasms.
>The toasted bread, the mayonaisse. . .
>The bacon!
>It's been more than a year since you last ate bacon!
"So where do you get the bacon for these things? They don't sell it at Ponyville."
>"Oh, there are wild boar running around the forest. They don't really know how to protect their bacon. Kekekeke."
>You are nearly through your fifth sandwich when Ashas spreads a huge grin
>"Hey Anon. . ."
"Yeah?"
>"You like those, don't you?"
>You nod enthusiastically
>"Then I might just have to. . ."
>Her grin gets wider
>Oh Jesus fucking Christ here it fucking comes another pun
>"Ask you to join. . . CLUB SANDWICH!"
>You smile.
>Then laugh.
>That was actually a little clever. Just a little

>"So Anon. . ." Ashas begins.
>"Just what the hell are you anyway? Where did you come from?"
>Man, this question again. In the past year almost everyone you'd met had asked it. So simple, unlike the answer.
"It's a. . . Very, very long story. Very elaborate, with a lot of required backstory. It would take me hours to tell."
>You sigh.
"Short answer, I'm a human. Or homo sapien. Or just a man. Where do I come from? Over the hills and far, far, FAR away."
>Ashas chews her sandwich, bearing a look of contemplation.
>"You can tell me the long version if you want to, Anon. I wouldn't mind having you here a few more hours. You're pretty cool."
"Boy, have we come a long way. Just a few hours ago you cracked my head with a bat and now your inviting me to stay longer, saying I'm pretty cool."
>"Kekekekeke, yeah."
"Speaking of which, how long was I out?"
>"Eh. . . Little more than three hours."
"So it's probably like, five in the morning?"
>"More like six."
"Hm."
>For a period you both eat in silence
"So, if I were to go down the train tracks that way,"
>you gesture with your arm
"Where would I end up?"
>"You'd end up in Appleloosa I think. Yeah, go that way, Appaloosa. Go the other way, and you'll be in Ponyville."
>"So where are you headed?"
"Appaloosa."
>Of course you'd never actually planned to go there, but decide Why not? You've come this far. It'd be an adventure

>"So are you gonna give me the long version or no?" Ashas asks. "I mean, of who, WHAT you are."
"Not tonight. But I will, if only as payment for these amazing sandwiches. Maybe I could tell you over some more of them?"
>"Sounds great! I look forward to it. You know where I live, so feel free to come back anytime."
"Well. . . I don't think I should leave right away. I'd like to sleep first, get my sore old noggin' some rest."
>You rap your knuckles on your forehead, and wince, hurt by what was supposed to be a funny gesture
>"Fair enough, since I'm the one that made your noggin' sore in the first place. You'll take the bed and I'll drag my sleeping bag outta the shed."
>Wait, did you just ASK to sleep in the same house as a batpony? And not just that but the same room, since the house had but one?
>You were so caught up in conversation with Ashas, having such a good time you made a gigantic slip
>Well, can't take it back now without looking like a dick
>Looks like you'll just have to cross your fingers and hope she doesn't bite
"Ashas, do you have a bathroom?"
>"No, I just go in the woods."
>You stand up.
"Well then excuse me, I have to use the little men's forest."
>You hear her snicker as you walk towards the door
>Once outside, you run some 20 meters from the house, then hide behind a tree for good measure
>You strip naked, and search your body for any signs of being bitten
>Nothing on your neck, chest or back
>You already knew your arms were fine
>And nothing on your legs
>You check again
>Still nothing
>Well, it seems she hadn't bitten you while you were unconscious after all
>That didn't mean she wouldn't do it tonight though
>Still, it gives you hope
>You have a hunch that it will be safe to sleep tonight
>You dress and go back inside

>You wake up
>Your head still aches, though the pain has been reduced to a dull throb
>Ashas is beside the bed in her sleeping bag, snoring loudly
>You probably shouldn't wake her, but then again, you shouldn't leave without saying goodbye
>And now is the time, you feel, to get back to walking
>You put your hand on the sleeping bag and push, rocking the sleeping pony back and forth
>She groans
>"Mmph. Whaddya want?"
"I'm gonna leave now."
>She squints up at you. "What time is it?"
"I don't know."
>You walk to the door and open it, then step out and look to the sky
"Late,"
>you say.
"I'd guess past noon."
>"That's late to you? Fuck."
"Anyway, I'll be hitting the road now. Thank you, for your hospitality. Hopefully I'll see you again soon."
>"Alright alright, then go."
>You can tell she wants her sleep
>You close the door and walk up the trail to the tracks, leaving Ashas' house behind
>And when you check yourself for bite marks, you find none

>You follow the train tracks, and soon come upon Appaloosa

Le fin.