This is the first small story of a "Voices of Equestria" pack. It is very closely tied to the "Old Equestria" book series. Link to the first book: fanfiction net/s/14067623/1/Around-the-world-through-laziness-and-boredom
Please keep in mind that this is a translation, and some things might sound off due to human factor and untranslateable things.
I highly suggest setting the text width to 1/2, as it was close to how the story was written; might alter the perception otherwise.
Critique is very welcome!
Chapter I: Colourful world..
— ..And who is such a good one?
Quite an unusual question. And it is asked by no less unusual creature. How else can a pony be called, who behaved completely opposite of what was expected? And is it a pony even, if she behaves completely not like other coloured creatures? Looks just like one, yet everything around is different!
The one responding is kind of a pony too - at least similar in anatomy - yet others always reacted at him quite fanatically. What answer did this question suggest? Maybe, it is some strange claim? With every passing moment all the colours flourished, expectations even nourished!
— ..Who? - confused the white one - W-ho..
And the actions occurred completely opposite of assumptions. Like this winged orange pony. Like the one questioned altogether. What did even get those two together? What happened in the past few days? Is it tied to previous months? ..Easy. Easy to remember. Yet to understand it, is somehow difficult.
Just like those two. Easy to look over, kind faces are readable, but everything around - inside them too - is seemingly shifted around and hidden behind bodies. Maybe, this very question was also asked with some shifted and hidden sense? Only, what?
— ..Who am I? - snowwhite creature understood nothing.
— You're a pillow! - little horse laughed in answer to confusion - Living pillow!
— ..Pil-low?
How to even think about this very sense, if even the initial answer is not drawing up? Who is this white stallion, anyway? Is he even a stallion, if everyone is screaming "bugling", "vermin" or "shapeshifter"? He looks like a stallion though. Simply with fangs. And many other things, which others kind of have, and kind of not.
Wings are in place, but they are flat. Horn is also there, albeit very smooth. And the sounds made with littlest movements are acute! Carapace, holes, many eyes.. Only, even those alike are not looking like that. The memory is phenomenal - those have legs full of holes. And him, one might suppose?
— ..Why are you so intact? - curious pony tilted her head to the side.
— Do not understand.
— You're a changeling, and their legs aren't entire! Yours are very smooth, straight - just like mine! - the mare fearlessly placed her leg nearby for comparison - Only the neck, carapace and body itself are in cracks. What's going on with you?
This changeling already heard such question. As he thinks - also from changelings. They are alike, though they are different! Grey, with yellow accents. And he is white, with lilac assets. A complete opposite - like if shifted backwards; a shapeshifter!
Seems like the puzzle starts to collect. However, something certainly prevents it to. This strange pony totally helps - with new words, some realisation comes. Their understanding, of course, can be completely different, and they are kind of hard to pronounce. Nevertheless, that counts.
Since all this time before, nothing even close to this happened with others. Even with those grey ones - especially, with grey ones. Almost nobody tried to talk with the insect while he remained locked inside. Inside the hive. Everyone tended to certain affairs, some conversations endlessly took place, yet words said - none!
Every changeling understood each other from half a glance. That would not repeat with the white one. Only rarely did some try to actually talk with him, teach him something.. Only, useless. Words did not come up, their meanings split up - impressions differ from that of ponies. Teaching approaches stopped right then and there.
Though, maybe those are reproaches? Words are similar, the result is just as glimmering - the bug could do at least something, only when he was left in peace. Peace is, certainly, a thing only so relative for a hive - it is unrealistically noisy there. And this plated creature repeated after the noise, with his mouth.
Wing rustling? Not a problem. Someone's walks and hubble? No trouble! Only his own speech could not pan out - everyone spoke with vibrations. Only ponies stood out, and what ponies can be in a hive? No, they were there, but they remained speechless. As if their heads full of emotions spoke for them.
This horse is also full of emotions, only she speaks alongside them. And speaks a lot - asks a myriad of questions; like if she repeats bug's own indescribable will! Why do those words are so desired to be reached? Why does he desire to reach other ponies?
Answers exist somewhere, inside, they only need to be reached. The whole life is before the eyes - only need to hardly think about specific events. It makes sense - the insectoid wants it to make sense. He wants to stay in those bright moments forever.
— How did you stray so far away?
Even such painful question still resonated with something special. Painful, because similar questions have been asked before. Because after this similar aught, something colourful came after. And after this colourful, came hunger. Here, everything is colourful again, yet the insect is not hungry! Why?
Because the hive has food - it has ponies. Ponies, sitting with closed eyes and thinking about something; wilfully giving away all this inconceivable energy. Just like here. Not like outside - in the wild. And why was the snowwhite child sent out so freely?
Because he is white? Or because he could not speak some other way? But insects themselves rarely spoke and explained not a stroke! Maybe, it is tied to transformations? But he mastered them, later, after being exiled! ..And maybe, this question has no answer?
Like with, "a good one"? Just how an insectoid can be good, if everyone did nothing but run away and mock him? Even his own kin, when banished him. They did this - the fact that bug was set free, already says a lot. And what if that is a gesture of mercy?
Out there is a completely different, miraculous world! Sure, quite hungry out there, yet beautiful! Now it is not coldly - with such a pony! Though, this certainly is not some kind of plan - the path and consequences have no sense nor link. Simply, lucky! Perhaps, even reaching the saturated glades is some luck.
Since before them, right after the hive, soulless fields extended to where one could see. Piles of empty bug skins, lone grey grass blades, mountains, other hives.. The territory is colossal - ponies would never see that far. Means that the white one is totally not a pony, simply similar. He saw everything.
Everything, other than what hid after the mountains. Curiosity led the insect to big fluffy grasses - to bushes, and they led to woods! ..To endless woods. Only plants around, different climbings and descends. There is no end seen at all. Even at home it is visible!
Although, is it home, after everything? The insect was seemingly left alone, to himself. Not a single worker flew by the borders! What if something would happen? Though there is no "would" - something did happen. Many things. Events, that simply need to be made out.
This pony should not be forced to wait out, surely? Yet, she probably does not mind to - continues to stare and look over the bug, no matter what. And very close at that, like none other! How so is that? Everyone feared the insect from the first sight - ponies, and not only! And here, waiting. Understanding. Desiring.