Hunting Hope 4

>Sweat poured down her face and dripped from her shirt as Hope rested in the shade of a lone tree.

>She had been running for hours under an unrelenting sun, and the exhaustion had finally caught up to her.

>Hope panted thirstily as shy leaned back against the wood.

>She had run faster, farther than she'd ever run before, but it wasn't enough.

It would never be enough.

>The tree she rested upon was old and withered, but had clung to life with surprising ferocity.

>A single ruby apple swung from it's boughs in the wind, as Hope stared up at it hungrily.

How odd that an apple tree should be standing, alone, in the plains and arid dry fields of what was most certainly Equestria's dustiest patch of land.

>Hope pondered as to the meaning of such a thing as she clambered up the rough bark towards the apple.

>Deftly snatching it, Hope rested in a crook of the branches and leaned back against the tree, relishing the cool shade.

>She was about to take a bite out of the apple, when she felt a poke at her back.

>Leaping up, Hope balanced precariously on the branches as she spun around to look at her assailant.

>It was nothing but a small wooden sign, withered from sun and wind.

It said simply "Bloomberg"

 

The name seemed familiar.

>Surely she had heard the term before, years ago.

>Yes, of course. Her father had helped the rural ponies a long while back.

>They had wanted to settle the dry lands filling the unused space in the middle of the maps, to provide rest and respite for travelers making the arduous journey and provide a home for those with wilder blood.

>Hope had been tiny at the time, but one memory had lasted the years, and stood out sharp as a tack as she stared at the sign.

 

>Anon, young, full of energy, and with a stubbly beard, heading out the door.

>A leather pipe full of coiled sheets, blueprints, rested on his back, and as she cried out 'daddy, don't go', he had smiled a toothy grin and promised to return.

'I have some work to do, sweetpea. There are some ponies who want to live in the desert, civilize the wilderness. What a calling, no? I'm going to bring them water.'

>Even in his short time spent in the land of pastel ponies, as he called it, anon had brought prosperity and life to whatever he touched.

>Or, at least, for a few good years.

Before everything went wrong.

 

Rested and fed, Hope wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and pulled out her bronze pipes.

>The last thing of her father's that had survived, and the trinket that kept her going in the dark.

>A tune came to mind, and Hope dutifully took a deep breath and began to play.

>The song, sweet and melancholy, fluttered about in the wind, before fading out to a single sweet note.

>Hope sniffled, then tucked the pipes under her shirt again and continued towards the sunset.

>Appleoosa might have been abandoned, but they would provide shelter for one satyr and sheild her from the night.

Behind her, the old tree fluttered in the wind, somehow looking ten years younger, as if the music had touched its soul.

 

 

 

The way I'm doing this, anon arrived in equestria 10 years before G4 started, and so even though Hope is 20 (perhaps that is too old. What do you think? It's not too late to ret-con in something like 16, or change how long she's been on the run (two years is a long time))...

Anyways, even though Hope is 20(erg) the mane six are only maybe 5-10 years older than they were at the end of season 3. [spoiler]I'm ignoring the S3 finale.[/spoiler]