Punky's Log: Day 229
The first thing I should say, I think, is that our dead friends never saw a funeral.
On the first day after Coco's house burned down, we were optimistic. Any loud noise from the wall caught all our attention. Any guard we saw we looked to hopefully, silently begging for them to give us a hint as to when we could expect to give our respects. Sympathetic guards looked away guiltily, the cold ones just ignored us.
By today, only the families of the deceased held out. I think they knew that there were no funerals, and that there were never going to be any. I think they just needed to believe it a little longer. As I walked home from Mystic's house, I saw the stallion who had lost his daughter talking to the very same guard who'd given his word that we would see a funeral.
"Well," the stallion demanded, "I was told I could bury my daughter. You swore to me that I could bury my daughter!" The guard took off his helmet and bowed his head in shame.
"I'm sorry. I thought you would," he said, his voice full of remorse. "I really, really believed that you'd be allowed a funeral. Even the mare who attacked a guard a few months ago got a proper wake, but-" the guard took a breath, as if the next words out of his mouth would be hard to say, "Commander Dagger ordered the bodies burned last night." The stallion and I stared in shock at the ashamed guard. "I'm sorry." The stallion stared at the guard, disgusted.
"...sorry? You're sorry?! 'Sorry' won't give me back my daughter! 'Sorry' won't help me say goodbye to her!" The stallion shoved the guard, who only stood by and accepted it. "I don't care what anypony says, the dragons and the bone wolves and that damned rotting horse aren't the biggest monsters here. They're nothing compared to guards like you." I stared in shock at the stallion along with the guard. I had almost forgotten those nightmares, having not had the dreams since Mystic made me the dreamlessness potion. I chased after the unicorn, leaving the guard behind.
"Wait, mister!" He turned to me, looking completely drained. "I help a unicorn named Mystic make potions, he knows how to make one to make the dreams go away. If you'd like, I can make one for you tomorrow." He nodded listlessly and trudged away.
When I went back home, I was greeted by Inky and Coco, who were playing hopscotch in the short hallway that connected the four rooms of our house. When I opened the door, they both turned somberly to me. When the five of us - Inky, Coco, her parents and myself - sat down to eat, Inky was the first to speak.
"Only one family can live in a house at a time." We all looked up from our food, Coco's parents and I shared a look of confusion while Coco and Inky looked as if they had already talked about it.
"That's not right," Her mother said, "we can stay as long as we have to according to the regulations, if there aren't more than three of us. And besides, our house will be rebuilt soon."
"Regulation Fifty-Six: any non-familial gathering inside a home is to be restricted to two days time, and must disband by sunrise of a third day. One family has to leave." Coco looked at her family nervously. "I think it should be us."
"What?"
"Coco, you can't be serious!"
"I am!" She took a deep breath. "It's their house. They've lived here almost a year, they've built their new life here. It's not fair for us to expect them to just pack up over night and move out. Where would they go?"
"What about us," her father demanded, "where would we go?" As the two outraged parents shouted at their daughter, who sat between me and Inky, I shrank into my chair.
"We'll have a home again soon mom, all we have to do is ask ponies to shelter us for a night or two! We can work for others to get food, and there aren't enough of us to violate the rule about how many visitors a house can have."
"I'm pregnant!" Coco, Inky and I stared wide-eyed at Coco's mother, who stood up with her announcement. "We can't move from house to house, because I'm pregnant."
"We'll start packing our things," I said. Inky nodded, and the two of us left for our rooms. As I closed my door, I heard Coco finally speak.
"If you're lying," she said flatly, "I'll never forgive your selfishness."
I carefully grabbed my map of the colony and the list of houses where books were hidden, now with Coco's house scratched off, and curled them into scrolls. I picked up my bottle of dreamlessness potion, with only a night's worth left and placed it in my saddlebag by the scrolls. I packed up my stuffed toy honeybear, a comforting, patched old comfort toy from my most infantile foalhood, and hid my journal away in my cloak. The world outside my window was dark, so I waited sleeplessly for the dawn.
Cursive scurried out from his nest under my bed, as if he'd sensed my nervousness.
What is wrong?
"Inky and I will have to move out in the morning."
Why?
"Coco's family will get too big to move soon, and it's probably not healthy for her mom constantly move from house to house with a baby on the way. The rules say that no two families can stay in one house for longer than two days."
What about me?
"You can stay if you want. Or leave with us, it's your choice." Cursive scurried up under my mane as an answer. I smiled. "Thanks, Cursive."
Outside, every home is full of howling ponies. Each window has a candle inside, and the whole town is like a mirror of the night sky above us. Each window peers in on a pony who would help us, who would shelter us if we asked. It's not like the last time Inky and I were in trouble, this time we're not alone. It's terrifying, knowing that every night will be a gamble, that too many refusals in one day could end up with us on the streets, the perfect target for any ruthless guards looking to punish an exile. I don't want to let myself hope too much, because I don't want to deal with the hopelessness of failing, but I'm almost certain we'll be ok.