The cold rain dripped down her fur and her eyes flickered, clearing the drops from them. The cold, piercing her to the core as she stood alone on the balcony staring into the dark and the howling fear that ensnared the forest called to her and yet, beyond the wind and rain... silence. No wolves in the distance or manticore bellowing, yet she was deafened. Something held her rooted and had done for hours. Her hands glowed a faint purple as magic ran through them, but nothing happened. Nothing visible. To the casual onlooker, twilight's eyes blinked as rain hit her eyes, but to an attentive magic-user, such as herself, the magic thudding was louder than any bellowing gale or roaring wind. A strong force perforated the night, like a lighthouse beaming through the night. No creature could create a force like that, twilight knew, but it doesn't feel like a pony's magic... It doesn't feel like it's from this world at all.
The soft clicks of gears and chains could be heard through the night. The aged bicycle struggled through the slight incline, as did the man riding it. He fought through the burning of effort and the tiredness; he was in a good mood. Another late shift done, and awaiting him at the end of his journey, three things waited for him: A hot meal, a comfy chair, and video games. tedium and boredom swapped for entertainment and comfort.
The dangers of riding in the dark on English back roads wasn't lost on him. He often pondered on the dangers during the routine ride home; taking note of the blind corners and how his shadow changed when a car approached from the rear. He'd hear the engine in the distance, and then his shadow would shrink as the car would pass. Some far, some close, but never once had anything happened to him.
It never would, he thought. He was too sharp. Too alert. Too clever. Far too clever to fail to notice an ominous, bright light chasing him. Far too clever to ignore a loud car engine approaching…
quickly the man's world was set spinning. Sharp, jagged thorns tore through his face as his bike slid through the nearby hedge and straight into a large tree. Once his head stopped spinning, several things were obvious.
1: The bike was done for.
2: He was hurting bad.
3: This tree shouldn't be here.
It appeared as though he was in a forest. That can't be right, there were only fields around here. No forests.
The trees varied in size, so he wasn't seeing double. Could he be lost? No, he made this run every day, he couldn't be lost, could he? Maybe. Picking up what was left of the bicycle, he started walking back to the road.
The road.
The road that wasn't here. He could see what was left of the bush he ploughed through, but behind it? Only trees. As he saw it, it was still his best chance, so followed the path he took into this forest, hoping it will lead him out.