I remember everything so clearly. The weather was gloomy; grey cumulus clouds stretched across the sky for miles. Pegasi darted left and right, making sure everything was ready for the upcoming rainstorm. The trees stood bare, some dotted with merely a few brown or red leaves. Most had fallen to the soft earth, dead as dead could be. I, for one, sat at the very top of one of the garden's trees, examining the territory. Except for the weather ponies, everything was quiet. Peaceful.
Good heavens, it was boring.
Now, anypony who knows me knows that I like a good prank just as much as the next guy, but as much as I loved to wreak havoc, I was smart about it. Well, as smart as I needed to be. One does not attempt a prank of any sort out in the open like this. So, like a good little draconequus, I stayed up in that tree, watching as the world spun by as lazily as ever. And before I knew it, the captain of this particular team of weather ponies gave the command before darting higher above the clouds to avoid the soon-to-be falling droplets. I had been distracted by a surprisingly interesting spider crawling its way around the branches, and I was already soaked by the time I could glide to the ground and search for a hiding spot. Scratch that: I wasn't very smart at all. Or, perhaps not stupid, but very easily distracted. My mind always seems to wander. It's been like this since I was a small child. See? I'm getting off track again.
My eyes darted back and forth, desperately searching for the nearest place to hide. The rain began to come down harder and harder. Everything blurred, and scents became quickly hidden. I growled in frustration and darted off in a random direction. Oh, why did I have to go in that direction?
As I ran as best as one could with four mismatched limbs, I looked around for something, anything. A gazebo, a crate, some magical tree that for some reason or other hadn't yet lost its leaves. And at some point in this blind and quite frankly unnecessary panic, I hit a wall. Luckily, this very wall belonged to the castle's kitchen, and next to the kitchen's exit... entrance... both, was a pile of crates. The wooden boards were mostly broken apart and they smelled of onions and rotten vegetables, but it was shelter nonetheless. I squeezed in through the boards (An easy feat, thanks to my thin serpentine figure) and curled up in the dampened bed of mold, veggie mush and dirt. It wouldn't have been so bad if not for the overwhelming stench of garlic and onions.
I watched through the wood as mice ran for their homes to return to their families that lived inside those warm and cozy walls. Here's a neat little fact about draconequi: We are abandoned at birth. It's why there's so few of us. For some reason, most of the time we just can't seem to survive on our own from the moment we are born. Sure, we're blind and deaf for the first few hours, and even if we weren't there's no way of fighting against a hungry predator, but that's really no excuse.
Sarcasm, by the way. I find that most ponies don't seem to understand it.
Anyways, we are abandoned early in our lives, with no memories of our parents, no knowledge of whether or not we have siblings. We are born alone. We don't have families. This didn't get me down, however. Back then, I much preferred to be on my own. Ponies were the least interesting creatures I had ever come across. Always happy and nice and peaceful, frolicking in the flower fields talking about how perfect and great their lives were. Disgusting creatures. But this all changed the moment I saw her.
She stepped out of the kitchen's back door, allowing the sweet scent of pastries the seep out before being smothered by the rain. She levitated a black umbrella and bag over her head as she closed the door. Her legs were long and thin, much unlike those stubby things that belonged to most ponies. Her coat was the purest white, and her mane, thick and wavy and the loveliest shade of pink, flowed down to her knees. She, oddly enough, had both wings and a horn. That's the best I can describe it. Odd. She was odd.
Not that that's bad. Odd is good
I liked odd.
She hopped down two short steps and turned, trotting past me. Despite the fresh mud that became of the earth, her hooves became hardly filthy. She moved with such grace and such balance that she barely splashed in the puddles, and she moved so naturally as she did so. Oh, why did I have to run in that direction? Why did I have to hit that wall? Why did I decide to hide in those crates? Why was I so foolish? Why did I feel the need to call out to her?
"Hey!" I had shouted. I didn't even realize my mouth was open until it was too late. She stopped in her tracks and swiveled her head in my direction, looking for me with those gleaming magenta eyes. "Hello?" I froze. What else was I to do? I curled back up in the bed of mold and hid my face behind my paw and talons. I thought, 'Perhaps if I'm really quiet, she'll go away.' I could hear her hooves moving through the mud, coming ever closer. 'Maybe she'll think it was just her imagination.' She levitated the bag over to the crates and set it down over my head. 'Maybe she won't see me.' She knelt down on her front legs and peered inside. Her eyes rolled back and forth until she could finally make out my snake-like shape in the dark. I moved my lion paw just enough to glance at her face. I would never have expected it: She was smiling at me. A soft, warm smile. All my life I had gone mostly unnoticed, and the few who did see me stared in disgust. Draconequi were thought to be cold, heartless creatures. A sickening stereotype, if you ask me. But I had gotten used to it. So to see this creature-this strange pony-standing inches away, smiling at me without a hint of fear or disgust in her eyes... I didn't know what to do. So I hid behind my paw again.
She giggled and allowed the umbrella to float towards the crates, shielding herself and I from the rain. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Her voice was barely a whisper. That hushed voice... it sounded so gentle. It made me feel safe. Carefully, I moved my hands away from my face and looked up to meet her eyes. "There you are." She took the smallest step forward, probably trying not to frighten me. "What are you doing out here, my little friend? You could get sick." I remained silent. "Do you have a name?" she asked, tilting her head curiously. I glanced down at my paw. It had never occurred to me that I didn't have a name. Obviously I had no parent to name me. And no friends. I'm sure the village ponies threw offensive nicknames around for me, but I had never heard any of them. And if I did, I'm positive I wouldn't want to keep any of them. So I shook my head no. "Oh, dear." It was not a look of annoyance or confusion she held, but one of sympathy. "You're all alone, aren't you?" I nodded. She turned and looked up at the sky, taking a moment to admire the dark clouds that rolled by. The clouds would continue to do so until they faded away the next morning. The pony faced me again, the kind smile having returned to her. "We can't have that now, can we?" Grabbing the bag again with her magic and standing back, she cleared away the loose boards, leaving me alone standing underneath the umbrella. "Come along now. We need to get you inside before you catch a cold." She nodded her head to the left, giving the signal for me to follow her. And I did just that. Trotting alongside her, sharing the umbrella, I followed her all the way to the other side of the castle, never taking my eyes off her face.
What a foolish child I was.