Moonlight 01

>Day, God-forsaken woods, Anonymous

>You wake with a start, instantly alert, shivering in the cool forest undergrowth.  You don't know how you got here or even where "here", is, but that isn't what's bothering you.  What bothers you are the gnarly trees and piles of dead leaves that make up your surroundings.

"Wha..." you groan.

>Last night you were high in the mountains, far from any deciduous forest; it was winter and definitely not this warm.  How far did you go?

>You climb to your feet and take inventory of yourself.

>Backpack, check.

>Coat, shredded (not really a surprise, but still annoying).

>Pants, only slightly damaged.

>Boots, still hanging from your backpack.

>Well, that's good.  It seems that you won't have to walk back barefoot this time.

"Walk back to where..." you mutter.

>This isn't the first time you've found yourself in some remote wilderness, but it's aggravating.  You'll probably spend the rest of the day just finding civilization and probably another getting back to your home.  You unsling your pack and set it down at the base of a tree.  Digging inside, you find a roll of clean socks and slip them on your feet.

>You hear a snapping sound off to your left, your head immediately swings around to confront the sound.

>You see nothing but bushes, leaves and trees...

>After a tense moment of waiting, you place your knife down on your pack and put your boots on.

>Your stomach grumbles.

>Normally, when you wake up somewhere new like this, you would dig out your camp stove and make breakfast.

>Not this time, this place is creepy.

>Standing, you slip your knife back into its home on your belt and start searching for the way you came.  It isn't long before you find last night's trail.  Why is it that you never follow roads or hiking trails?  Hopefully you can find somewhere less spooky to eat along your path.

 

>You walk for only five minutes before you find something very... disturbing.  You find the end of your trail.  Right in front of you is a charred tree-trunk that still smokes slightly.

"What the hell?" you mutter.

>Did you take a wrong turn?  Perhaps you doubled back in the night?  No, this is the trail, but how can it end here in the middle of a forest you've never been through before?  What's with the burnt tree?

"Shit"

>Well, you're officially lost in some God-forsaken forest; time to get un-lost.  You reach into your loose-fitting cargo pants and pull out your little GPS receiver and switch it on.  You wait through the cheap device's interminable boot time and it finally starts looking for satellites.

>Three minutes later it's still looking.

>You don't worry though, this has happened to you before (it's probably the heavy overhead cover).  Clipping the GPS to your belt, you whip out your compass and map.

"Man, I must'a been bookin'..."

>The only forest of any kind near where you were camping was hella far away.  Did you really go almost two-hundred miles in one night?  Impossible!  Maybe you're in a forest too small to see on this map.

>That has to be it.

>So all you have to do is keep going in one direction until you get out.  Since all directions seem equally valid, you head off past the burnt tree.  Your watch claims it's 7:46am now.  Hopefully you won't be walking too long.

 

>You've been walking forever.

>Your GPS has timed out five or six times, each time with that annoying beep.  You haven't eaten anything (a granola bar and some water don't count) and you have yet to find any clearings or breaks in the tree cover.

>12:24

>That's it, you don't care how creepy this place is, you're eating lunch right now.

>Off comes your pack and out comes your stove.  What's for lunch?  Steak.

"Damn right."

>Why lug a steak up into the mountains with you?  Why not?  And from the way it is starting to smell, it was definitely worth the wait.  Sadly, you aren't the only thing in this forest that likes steak.

>There's a crashing behind you; it sounds huge.

>It scares you so much you almost kick your stove over (that would have been bad).

>Your hand flies to your knife but it's already too late, whatever it is knocks you to the ground before you could turn to face it.

>Luck is with you, it seems, as your head narrowly misses a gnarly looking root.  You don't even turn to see what hit you, you just scramble away as quickly as you can.  You keep expecting to feel claws tear into your back but nothing comes.  After crawling about twenty yards, you finally stand up and look back towards your assailant.

 

>It's the biggest damn bear you've ever seen.  Is it a bear?  It looks like a bear, but also doesn't.  It's waaaaay too tall and almost seemed translucent, with odd starry patterns throughout.

"What the fu-" you start to stay.

>It seemed to have been distracted by your stove but, now that you foolishly regained its attention, it starts lumbering toward you.  You're still so shocked by the bear's appearance that you forgot how much trouble you're in until it's almost on you again.  You turn tail and bolt.

"Shit, shit, shit!" you repeat over and over, looking for something that could save your life.

>You have bear-spray and even a revolver back in your backpack, but you don't think they could save you from the creature trying to kill you right now.  Of course, you can't test your theory since they're back in your bag.  You sprint through the trees trying to put as much distance between you and almost certain death as you can.

>Normally, a smaller bear would have already overtaken you and you would have been mauled.  When said mauling doesn't immediately take place, you risk a glance back over your shoulder to find the bear trying to fit itself between two huge trees, it's claws raking massive gashes in the knotty trunks.

"It's too big," you pant as you lean against a trunk, "it can't fit through."

>Maybe you'll live after all; the bear seems genuinely stuck between those beautiful trees.

>You carefully make your way around the bear, giving it a wide, wide berth and head back towards your stuff.  The noises of the entangled bear gradually decrease in volume until they sound suitably far away for you to relax.  You figure that, as long as you can hear the thing struggling, you're probably safe.

>Whatever the case may be, you don't take long to grab your stuff.  You shut off the stove, dump out the half-cooked steak (dammit!), poor your canteen on the pan to get it bearably cool, throw it all into your bag (while remembering to withdraw your bear-spray and gun), and beat a hasty retreat.  You listen to the struggling bear until the sounds fade into the distance.

 

>It's 1:52pm, surely, if the bear-thing was coming after you, it would have done so by now.

>Must.  Rest.  You unceremoniously drop your bag on the ground and plop down on a grey/green boulder.

>You hug yourself and shiver.  That was, honestly, the scariest event in your entire life, way worse than almost falling off that cliff two years ago.

"Goddammit" you spit.  And then you can't help but chuckle.

>It's stupid, but you can't stop chuckling.  Not "heh heh" chuckling either (that would have been bearable), but "hur hur, derp derp" chuckling.  You can it as soon as you realize what you're doing, but you can't seem to keep a lid on it.

>Eventually, the shaking and laughing stops.  You lay your head back and sigh.

"What a day."

>You stare up at the sky as little birds fly overhead.  Wait, birds?  You hadn't seen any living creature (other than that monster bear) the whole day.  You're head flies off the boulder and you take a good look around.  The forest seems more open, much less ominous than before.  Maybe you're almost out!

>Scooping up your pack, you check your GPS one more time.  Nope, nothing.  This doesn't deflate your mood though.  With a spring in your step, you head towards what you hope is freedom.

 

>Freedom came, though it isn't quite what you had in mind.  That, and it was a longer ways in coming than you had originally suspected.

>After trudging for another hour, you suddenly came to the edge of the wood.  You stepped out into a perfect field with what appeared to be hay growing.  Sadly, the hay seemed wild, it wasn't very tall and there were no fences in sight.  You've simply traded one flavor of "lost" for another.

>Your GPS beeps, causing your heart to leap.

"Finally!" you all but shout.

>Low battery, Charge soon.

"Dammit"

>You still don't know where you are, your GPS has proven incapable of locating you, and you're still starving.  You shut it off; you may need it later.

>Wandering into the field, you catch something colorful out of the corner of your eye.  Turning to face the color, you barely make out a house in the distance.  A quick peek through your binoculars confirms it.

>Civilization at last.

"Yes!" you shout, finally some people!

>Without another moment's thought, you start heading towards the house.  All you can think about is getting something to eat and drink.  Actually, the idea of napping also passes through your mind.  Either way, you need to get to that house before your desires can be met.

>Within a few minutes you leave the hayfield behind and continue across a green meadow, that creepy forest about 30 yards to your right.

>On your way to the house you notice something peculiar.  Your watch reads 2:20pm now, but the sun is still almost directly overhead.  Did you cross timezones last night?  Whatever, you're almost there.

 

>You're there, but you're not sure where "there" is.  It's a peaceful enough looking house, if you could call it that.  It's more of a cottage, actually, and it's built for hobbits.

"Ooookay..."

>But you can't think of anything else that would live in a house with a door only four-and-a-half feet tall.  You don't think you're dreaming (perhaps you're dead?  maybe the bear did catch you).  Pacing around "ye olde cottage", you find everything looks natural.  It seems like a genuine home built for people only four feet tall.  Whoever built it has expensive hobbies, and lots of animals.  There's an occupied chicken coop and signs of numerous creatures everywhere.  Heck, this guy must own tons of horses, because there are horse tracks all over.  Who the hell is this person?

>You knock on the door...  Nobody answers.  You knock again... again, nothing.

"Alright, I hope I don't go to jail for this." you say and you push on the door.

>It isn't locked.  The door swings open effortlessly.

>You squat at the threshold and just stare into the room.  While you were fully intending to just waltz inside, finding the door unlocked almost makes you feel... dirty about it.  That and it doesn't look like you could stand inside anyway.

>Your curiosity finally overcomes your guilt and you squat-waddle inside.  It looks lived in, but clean.  Everything looks hand-made and it all reminds you of a fairly-land dollhouse but on a much larger scale.

>You place your backpack against the door and put your knife, gun, and spray inside.  Breaking and entering is one thing, but being caught armed in some stranger's house is another.  You spy some apples in a wicker basket next to the little staircase leading upwards, and help yourself.  It's really a good apple.

"D'ahmn," you say through a mouthful of the best apple you've ever had, "tahts goo-"

>You stop short.  Right there, in the middle of the floor, there's a white rabbit (bunny?).  It's staring at you in... alarm?  Why doesn't it run?  You swallow.

"Hey, little guy?" you hold out your hand.

>That seems to have done it, the rabbit takes off through another door.  You turn the corner but it's too late.  It's gone.

"Oh well," you sigh, taking another bite of apple.

>Not the strangest thing you've ever seen (that would be the bear from earlier), but not normal.  Did you fall down a rabbit hole or something?  You check the room for any vials labeled with the phrase "drink me" but find nothing.  Whatever.  You finish your apple and throw the core out the front door (there don't appear to be any trashcans on this floor).  Sitting on the floor, you start thinking.

 

>Phrases like:  "Where am I?  How did I get here?  Where the hell am I?  Am I dreaming?" flit through your mind at high speed.  You pinch yourself and grimace.  You didn't think you were dreaming, but it never hurts to check (yes it does!).  Besides, this is the most realistic dream you've ever experienced.  It was also the longest dream you've ever experienced.

>That's when your exhaustion catches up with you.  You didn't get any sleep last night and have been hiking and running for your life all day.  You're done, and your body finally decides to let you know exactly how tired you really are.  You lay back on the ruddy brown rug and promptly fall asleep.

 

>You awake to the call of nature, at least you think that's why you woke up.  You start to get up and freeze.  You hear voices outside the house.

"Shit!" you hiss.

>You're inside some stranger's house, illegally, and you're about to be caught.  Why the hell did you fall asleep in here?  What do you do?  For a split second you think, "I can take a hobbit," and then realize what you just thought.  Are you really going to attack this person?  No, you're going to run.

>You squat-sprint over to your backpack and throw it over your shoulder.  You hear the voices again right outside the door.

"Cya tomorrow, Fluttershy," says the first female voice.

"Oh, ok, see you tomorrow," says the second.

>Immediately following the voices you hear a gust of wind, but you're freaking out too much to pay attention.  Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!  This lady is going open the door and find you sitting here!  MOVE!

>You pivot, intending to make a break for the back door when you freeze.  Right there, in the middle of the floor, is that white rabbit.

>Now, normally, you would have ignored the rabbit and run anyway.  What caused you to stop was what the rabbit was HOLDING.  The rabbit appeared to be wearing a saucepan on its head and held a kitchen knife in its paws.  A knife that it seems to be brandishing at you... menacingly, right now.  What.  The.  Fuck.

>While your brain is rebooting from this... interesting sight, the front door starts to creak open.  Your arm shoots out and shoves the door closed.  You hear a light thump, like a head hitting wood.

"Oooop," you hear from beyond the door.  "Oh, Angel, please open the door!"

>The rabbit, presumably "Angel", starts towards you, wielding the knife as if it were a sword.  By this time, your rational mind has left the building.

"Stay back," you hiss at the bunny, "Don't come any closer you vermin!"

>The person outside must have heard you because you hear,

"Angel?  Is there somepony in there with you?  Pinkie Pie?  Oh, please open the door."

>The person behind the door presses harder, you don't budge an inch.

>Thoughts race through your mind, thoughts that you would have never even considered before.  "What's the quickest way to disarm a rabbit.  It's so small, I have the reach advantage.  How the hell is it holding that knife?!"

"Angel!  Open the door RIGHT NOW!" shouts the woman.

>You and Angel seem to be in a standoff.  Angel, cutting off your escape, You preventing its hobbit friend from entering.  It may have continued this way indefinitely, but the woman outside decided she was coming in.

"If somebunny tries to block, show them that you rock!" floats through the door.

>You don't even have time to register what she's talking about before you're tumbling to the floor, propelled by the wooden door.  Your backpack flies off over your head.  The rabbit takes off before you crush it.  Somehow you find yourself mildly irritated that you weren't going to squish the damn thing.  Crumple.  Ow.

"Now, Angel, it isn't... Oh my!"

>Shit, the game is up.  You spin onto your back and sit up in a flash.

"Ok, lady, look-" you start.  What?

>Standing in the doorway is a yellow horse.

>Brain to Eyes.  Come again Eyes, what do you see?

>Eyes to Brain.  We see a small, yellow horse, sir.  It's four feet tall, yellow, and has a pink hairdo.  There appear to be wings flaring out from its sides and it seems surprised.

>"I... I... what?"  Your turbulent consciousnesses is having trouble forming coherent thoughts right now.

"Oh, dear, I've never seen any creature like you before!" says the talking horse.

>Ears to Brain.  Brain, there seems to be someone talking to us.  Are you getting this?  Brain?

>It's talking to you.  A midget horse is talking to you.  If this isn't shocking enough, your mind still has room to debate with itself over the creature's actual genus.  "Little horse?  No, more like a Shetland pony.  A talking pony?  I guess?"

>That's when you register the yellow things poking out of the pony's side.  Wings?

>Brain to Eyes.  Come again Eyes, did you say the talking pony has wings?

>Eyes to Brain.  Affirmative, Brain.  The yellow, pink-haired pony has wings.  Wait, talking?

>Brain to Eyes.  Uh... Yes.  Are you positive, Eyes?  Eyes?

>Eyes to Brain.  What have we been smoking?

 

>There are no words.  Your mouth hangs open wide in an impressive imitation of a sea bass.  Standing in front of you is a talking mythological creature.  What is it called?  There's one in Hercules... a pega... pegasee... pegasus.  Pegasus!  THERE IS A PEGASUS STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

"Uh..." you groan.

"Oh, I am so sorry!  Did I hurt you?  Oh please tell me how I can help you!" says the yellow pegasus.

>The pegasus starts moving into the room.  You are completely flabbergasted.  You're crawling backwards.  You, the descendant of the most dangerous beings on planet Earth, an omnivorous predator, are backing away from a yellow, feathered herbivore.  You've never been so confused.

"I... I have to-" you start.

>You don't get to finish your sentence.  Your bump into your bag.  Your head spins around in fright, just in time to witness a frying-pan make contact.

>Clang.  Your head snaps back and things become blurry.  Some part of you notices the white rabbit rearing back for another swing.  Damn bunny.  You black out.