Title: Words Author: Anonymous Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/bz8sAM8c First Edit: Wednesday 19th of March 2014 10:38:17 PM CDT Last Edit: Wednesday 19th of March 2014 10:38:17 PM CDT A day starting just like any other. Sun in my eyes. My face deep in the pillow beneath me. The clatter of train filling my ears... Wait... I shot awake with a sudden lift to an upright position in my panic. I apparently moved to fast--my head instantly reacted with a sharp ache. I instinctively rub my head. No fingers. Just a nub where fingers ought to be. And then I was REALLY awake. I must have spend a good hour just examining the soft... hoof? in front of my face. My lip started to get sore from the amount I was chewing on it, but the reality of the matter never quite hit until I tried to get off the mattress. And I was instantly met with a faceful of floor. I struggle to rise back on all fours. My legs quiver and shake uncertainly the more I try to stand, but after a few stumbles I just remain slumped on the floor. I try hard not to whimper, but damn if the urge doesn't hit. Vulnerable, weak, emotionally exhausted, away from home and having no clue where I am and in a foreign body. Just when I'm about to grab my hair (or at least the best I could) and pull it out, a stern voice accompanied by the steel clattering of armor in motion breaks my lonely thoughts. "Hey... get up." I try to scramble to my feet at his command, but I still felt and probably looked very awkward. I could feel him rolling his eyes as the gray pony in ornate armor offers his support. Pony... Yes. This is what he is. This is what I am. Those cute things from the cartoon. Everything looked familiar, but now I was actually feeling him... seeing him... sensing his stoicism just by standing near him. I look up to see a miniscule raise of an eyebrow, showing a vague sign of emotion in the form of concern. "Are you sure you're alright, ma'am?" 'Ma'am'? Shit. I shake off the question and nod, though my actions defied my affirmation. I have to lean on him as he guides me a few steps to another part of the train, settling me down and offering a seat. I don't know how long I kept silent; I looked to the window as the landscape outside gradually started to turn whiter and snowier. I manage to compose myself enough to ask. When I asked where we were headed and where we go from here, he only gave one cold reply: "North." Thanks, I can see that. I sigh and twiddle my hooves for much of the rest of the ride, feeling more listless than distraught as I compose my thoughts. I'm a pony, accompanied by a royal guard, heading north, into a snowy area. My brain is stuck on these few thoughts for a long time, and even as my companion clears his throat to break the silence I still barely make eye contact. "How should we call you, now that we're here?" I take a moment to register the question, still not at full speed. I didn't really know yet. Pony names are still somewhat of an odd concept to me, especially since my name would probably be obsolete by now. A scary thought and one I'll have to mull over at another time, but I don't feel like pursuing the idea much further right now. He seems impatient as I shake my head. "Well, what do you do?" A vague question, and one I didn't feel like indulging. He tenses slightly as I say I didn't do much. "Well surely there must be something... A job? Passtimes? Distractions?" I thought a moment. I read, I think, I do some things for college... though I guess that last point is pretty much useless now. He sighs and shakes his head. We both feel the train coming to a halt, and he invites me to stand. "Well... here's your stop. Maybe you'll find something here, someday." I sigh as I start to rise to all fours. He's kind enough to give me a few pointers on how to place my hooves to a proper walking pace as he guides me to the exit. "Brace yourself... it's cold here." I wince from the freezing air, finally managing to walk on my own as the guard stays by the train. He tells me there are sleeping halls further down the route -- I couldn't miss it -- as well as resources for any sort of supplies I may need. With one last good luck he retreats back into the train, and here I am, a stranger in a strange body, dropped off in a strange village in a strange world. I need sleep. A name and all that stuff can come later.