Baby Steps

>I awoke with the rising sun the next morning.

>I'm not sure why.

>Something just sort of made me get out of bed today.

>I suppose it's for the best.

>I was freezing my freakin' tail off last night.

>I wish I been given more than this sheet they call a blanket.

>Crawling out from my tent, the warmth of the morning sun hits me immediately.

>Looking around, I notice I'm not the only one roused by the rising sun.

>You would think most people would lie in bed most of the day, myself included.

>Something about the sun just kickstarts the day, whether you'd like it to or not.

>It's the start of my first real day in Four Cannon.

>And I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do.

>That all-too-familiar sound of hunger hits my ears.

>At least that was decided easily enough.

>I decide to snack on a few more dandelions to give me that morning breakfast boost.

>A few other flowers make their way into my stomach as well.

>It was mostly just a taste experiment and to see if they don't make me sick.

>Although given that most others are eating them, that doesn't seem likely, but you can never be too sure.

>They didn't taste that bad, actually.

>I find the flowers with the broader petals are tastier than the ones with many small ones.

>I'll have to come back and pick some for later.

 

>Going back to my tent, I take the empty water bottle from my pack into my mouth and head towards the river.

>I pass a small cemetery on the way to the river banks.

>The fact that several have already died isn't too surprising, but still a sobering thought.

>I don't intend to become one of them.

>Taking a seat on the bank, I unscrew the cap and set it aside.

>Holding the bottle broadside between my teeth, I dunk my snout into the cold, flowing water.

>It takes several dunks as I pull my head up to breathe, but I manage to refill my water supply for now.

>It doesn't appear to murky, but with no way to actually tell or purify it, I'm regretfully stuck with it.

>I dunk my head into the river and take a few mouthfuls of water to quench my thirst.

>And while I'm here...

>I leap forward and plunge myself into the water.

>It's absolutely freezing, but hey, I need a bath.

>Emerging back into the sun's warm embrace to dry, I take my water bottle and begin my plan for the day.

 

>I must have spent a good 30 minutes just picking up and placing my water bottle down with my hooves and mouth.

>Then I realized I'm able to just lightly grasp it by wrapping my hoof around it.

>Wrist.

>Ankle.

>Whatever the hell it is.

>Point being, I'm fucking retarded for not realizing this sooner.

>It's like a pseudo hand without the fingers.

>At least I just freed up more options for tools and methods to get my former skills back on track.

>Regardless of this realization, it's still going to take a while for much to happen.

>With a bit more practice of wielding my bottle, I switch to sticks just to see if results are similar.

>Indeed they are, but the range of motion in which I can swing the stick is considerably greater than using my mouth and neck to swing.

>There's a lot less power behind it, though, so practicality isn't that great.

>Walking with only three legs is also fairly difficult.

>An idea comes to mind and I make my way back to the tent and grab my pack.

>Now that the more important part of my day has been checked off, and much sooner I might add, I can start re-learning basic outdoor skills.

>Like lighting a fire!

 

>As I walk though town to go back into the woods, I get consistently confronted by various ponies asking for me to vote for them to various positions in the community.

>I don't even know what any of them are even like, so voting for any of them would be like telling a friend to go to a resaraunt you've never been to yourself.

>Or setting your friend up with a random girl.

>The possibilities of things going wrong is too great, so I think I'll just sit this one out.

>Unfortunately, I'd rather not piss off any potential leader of our new town, so I sit and listen, despite me wanting to just go.

>Taking much longer than it should have, I finally escape the town and begin my walk to the forest border.

>Except this time there's a new sight to behold.

>Turns out, that little tower on that ridge belongs to a light brown unicorn.

>Watching him as I pass, he appears to try and charge a spell.

>An audible "pop" is heard along with a puff of smoke, resulting in him rolling backwards down the hill and out of view.

>I take a few quick steps towards the shack to see if he's alright.

>I stop when he reappears over the hill, reassuring my thoughts.

>He takes notice of me as I turn to walk away.

 

>Coming up on the forest, I set my pack beneath an oak and stray just into the tree line.

>I collect up fallen sticks, leaves, and pine needles and bring them back to my bag.

>I set the wood and tinder in a pile and then sit and contemplate on how to exactly go about this.

>These sticks aren't as dry as I would prefer, and the pine needles and leaves are pretty green as well.

>If I had a lighter or match, this wouldn't be that much of an issue.

>Time to go cave man.

>Using my mouth, I chew and peel the bark off of several sticks, revealing the fibrous material beneath it.

>Hopefully this would catch a spark.

>Ripping a small sheet of bark from the tree behind me, I use that as a base to hold the tinder.

>With a fairly sturdy-looking stick, I hold it in both hooves and start rubbing the tinder rapidly against the sheet of tree bark.

>Many minutes go by and my muscles are starting to get worn out.

>Pressing my cheek against the wood, I can feel the heat from the friction off of it.

>It's warm, but not hot.

>I decide to sit and give it a rest.

 

>What does a fire need to live?

>Heat? Check.

>Fuel? Check.

>Oxygen?

>Looking over my little set up, I can't tell if that's the issue.

>I know I can get it to warm up a bit more, but air flow?

>The flat bark doesn't allow it to breathe from below and the rubbing stick sort of chokes it from the top.

>Giving it a few more minutes of rest, I attempt it once more.

>This time, I split the stick just a crack to allow a small bit of air flow to the tinder below.

>I also move from under the shade of the oak in hopes the sun will help warm it up.

>Getting the friction going is tiring and the muscles in my forlegs start to ache much sooner than before.

>I press harder and faster, trying to heat it to the best of my ability.

>The unique scent of burning wood hits my nostrils as it begins heating up.

>The little fibers in of the peeled sticks gradually start to darken, but still no coal to be found.

>I begin blowing lightly from above to help increase air and to not cool it down too much.

>My hooves are freakin' killing me, but I need to know if this works.

>The stench becomes stronger the longer I rub the two pieces of wood together.

>An ever-so-tiny line of smoke begins to rise off from the fibrous tinder.

>I blow harder, hopefully to get it to light.

>I can see the little glowing bits of grass starting to form, but it's just not catching.

 

>I stop for a split second so as to quickly grab some pine needles in my mouth and set them over it before bringing the friction back up to speed.

>Hopefully it didn't cool too much.

>Unfortunately, it did and I spend more time trying to heat it back up.

>The smoke begins to appear once more, and I start breathing more air into the small tinder pile.

"Come on..." I mutter to myself, trying to encourage the little spark to jump to life.

>The coal starts to glow as the heat and air kick in.

>More smoke starts to billow from the small pile and I drop the stick entirely and drop myface as close to the tinder as possible to blow harder and harder into it.

>And then the miracle of life.

>My infant creation dances to life, albeit very weakly.

>I place more pine needles and even rip up some grass to try to bring it to life.

"Come on!" I shout at it.

>More leaves and some small sticks.

>And alas!

>FIRE!!!

 

>I smile and laugh at my creation.

>Oh crap, but I need more wood to keep it going!

>I quickly stand and turn to race back into the trees to find some more sticks for my fire child.

>In my haste, however, I kick my poor baby with my hind legs, forgetting about my extended body.

>I accidentally step on it, snuffing it out.

>Horror hits my face when I realize just what I had done.

"No! No, no ,no ,no, no!"

>I do my best to try to bring the spark back to life, but even the coals were snuffed out.

>It's dead.

"Ah!!!" I rage, kicking the small pile of half-burnt sticks and grass.

>All that work, and I throw it al away to stupidity.

>I walk over and start clunking my head against the oak tree.

"My... Freakin'... Luck," I say with each hit.

>I stop and shake my head.

>Once more, I trek off into the woods to regain more tinder and sticks.

>All afternoon was spent trying to replicate my actions, much to no avail.

>I even miss lunch just so I can keep working on this.

>When it inevitably fails, I kick it all away, grab my pack, and start home.

>There's gotta be a better way to do this...

>I sift through all my knowledge about firemaking on Earth, trying to apply and alter what I can do with hooves as opposed to hands.

 

>I stare at the ground as I walk, ignoring everyone around me.

>I manage to lose track of where I'm going and miss my turn.

>Finally snapping out of it, I look up at my surroundings.

>I almost hit the bridge by now and was about to cross the river.

"Oh. Whoops," I say to myself.

>Turning around, the sound of metal on metal rings into my ears.

>The building I stand in front of is where the noise emenates from.

>The smell of burning charcoal hits my nostrils as well.

>This must be the blacksmith.

>Come to think of it, a nice axe or a knife would be invaluable.

>Maybe if I sweet talk him, perhaps I can walk out with a free blade.

>And maybe he can tell me how he lights those coals.

 

>Entering the smithy, there's no one at the front counter.

>I follow the pounding of metal and the now audible blowing of the bellows.

>The actual workshop is set up well, the forge in the center of the well-ventilated area outside with a roof overhead.

>A yellowish earth pony worked the forge, pumping the bellows.

>I watched as he pulled a sheet of metal from the hot coals and placed it on an anvil.

>Using is mouth, he wielded a hammer and delt some heavy blows to the heated material.

>He then placed it back into the forge.

"Uh... Excuse me?" I called.

>"No, we don't give free knives. No you can't have a full set of plate body armor," said the smithy without even looking back at you.

>Well there goes that idea.

>Quick, think of something to recover with.

"I'm sorry?"

>The smithy pulled the heated metal once more from the forge, hammered it, and then dunked it into a barrel of water to cool.

>Then he finally looked at you.

>"What?"

"What did you did you say?"

>"Oh, sorry. A lot of ponies come in here looking for free knives or body armor. It's gets old fast."

"Oh..."

 

>He stepped past me to the store front to which I follow.

>"So what can I help you with, friend?"

"Actually, I just have a question."

>"Shoot."

"What do you use to light your forge?"

>He tilted his head at the strange question.

>"Are you implying I'm using something suspicious in my forge?"

"No, not at all. I'm just curious."

>"Well, for a lack of actual coal, I have to use wood charcoal. It doesn't burn as hot as coal, so I can't properly treat the metal."

>I hold a hoof up to silence him and shake my head.

"That's not what I mean. I mean what do you use to LIGHT it," I say with special emphasis on "light".

>"Oh..." he says, now understanding what I mean. "With our lighter kit we got in our starter packs."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

>"That's your pack, right?" he asks, pointing to my bag. "Everything is still in there?"

"Yes."

>"Give it here."

>He walks around the counter to me as I drop the pack to the floor.

>The smithy flips the bag open and sifts through the contents.

>"Hm..."

>Then he overturns the entire thing and empties it onto the floor.

>I step back to avoid the cascade of gear at my feet.

>The smithy gently kicks a few things aside and grabs something in his mouth to set aside.

>"There's one," he says.

>Digging around some more, he picks up a second object and sets it with the other.

 

>I walk around to get a closer look at what he had.

>One was an twisted piece of metal.

>The other was a rock.

>Holding the metal in his mouth and placing a hoof over the rock, he swing the metal piece, striking the rock.

>The end result was a small shower of sparks flying off the rock from the impact.

>"Ah, there we go!"

>I stood there in awe with my mouth agape.

>He looked back with a smile and set the flint and steel back in my bag.

"I was not aware that was even in there," I said low and ashamedly.

>"Have you ever even gone through your kit yet?"

>I silently shook my head, not making eye contact with him.

"I'm an idiot," I mutter.

>"It's all good," said the smithy.

>I look up to see a hoof extended towards me.

>"The name's Strong Metal," he introduced. "And you would be?"

>I meet his hoof with my own.

"Blue."

>He looked me up and down.

>"Yeah you are," he said with a grin.

"It was hastily chosen, what can I say?"

>"Is it meaningful to you?" he asked.

>I shrug.

"Not really, but I'll make the best of it."

>He nodded.

>"Well alright. Lets get you packed back up then, shall we?"

 

>Strong Metal helps me re-stuff my pack with all the basic gear it came with.

>I can't believe I just wasted several hours of my day for being an ignorant moron.

>After I sling my pack, I beg to ask a question.

"So you said something earlier about knives?"

>"What? Oh! Right. Yeah, we've got a few knives and stuff, but the lack of actual ore makes it difficult to process anything."

"Suppose I wanted one. What would I have to do to get it?"

>He sat and thought for a minute.

>"I'm not sure. I'll have to get back to you on that. Like I said, we're short on supplies."

"Alright," I respond with a respectful nod.

>"But hey, I was just about to close for the night. Would you like to go to the pub? Grab a drink or two? Chat some more?"

>I thought about it, but shook my head instead.

"No thanks. Not a big drinker. Plus I'm thinking of going to bed early. I've had... an annoying afternoon to say the least."

>"Alright, I understand. And hey, if you need anything or want to talk, I'm either here or at the pub."

"You got it."

>Leaving before him, I walk from the blacksmith straight to my tent.

>I drop my pack, crawl under my thin sheet, and drift off to sleep.