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>Be Fauna
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>You see this wayward stallion while closing up shop.
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>You've heard about him, barely being able to even whicker like a normal pony. But it's not just his sounds or speech patterns.
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>He's... odd. Everything about him is.
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>Seeing him in person just reinforces that.
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>His ears are pinned but is also laying down with a hauntingly sad look, like a lost puppy.
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>His forelegs are crossed as if he's trying to hug himself but failing. He's also rocking back and forth while doing so.
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>General stuff you've seen isolated monkeys do for comfort, but with more success.
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>Then it hits you.
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>He's probably one of those ponies raised by wild animals that here are only wild tales of.
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>Your ears swivel around as you keep an eye out for anypony else.
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>Nopony, good.
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>Letting out a soft whicker, you try to call out for him.
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>He just stares at you, unblinking.
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>"Want move, Pony?" He says in an oddly melodic yet gravelly accent.
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>It's surprising how he's started to pick up speech by himself. If your hunch is right, that is.
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>Sure enough you're able to coax him into your clinic with a piece of salmon jerky, a treat only your predatory animals would find appetizing.
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>His tail lashes awkwardly, and his now preened wings flap weakly out of sync when you scrub him down, but he doesn't make too much of a fuss.
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>In fact he doesn't have an ounce of aggression in him, nothing like what you've heard.
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>Giving him more salmon jerky, apples, and berries you cover him with a blanket and seat him in a box in the corner of your office.
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>With luck he'll stay there until morning and you can get him proper help.
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----
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>You make a beeline for your office at a very rushed pace.
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>A smart pony would have checked on the possibly wild stallion first instead of picking up breakfast.
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>Stupid mare.
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>For all you know, the omnivorous stallion could have broken into the back and eaten some of the smaller sick animals.
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>Closing the distance, you're welcomed with the sound of shattering glass.
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>You hesitantly step inside, blowing some stray hair out of your eyes.
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>The first thing that greets you is the array of broken treat jars on the floor.
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>Then there's the wild stallion, on top of a counter seated on his haunches with a jar of wheat biscuit treats in his forelegs.
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>His muzzle in the jar, his wings once again flap weakly out of sink.
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>Again, he pins his ears and hunches down when he sees you.
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>Glances out the window are the only gesture you're sure he's not going to pummel you right away.
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>The treats spill out of his front hooves and join the others as it rolls off the counter.
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>Yep, should have come here first.
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>Slowly, you set your coffee down on the table next you you, before making yourself look smaller as you whicker.
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>Something you've found works against scared and injured predators.
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"Easy there, big guy, I'm not angry. Do you want to come down from there?"
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>The stallion responds to your soft tone, his head lifting higher as he slides off the counter.
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>His wings drag on the floor as he approaches you head on in much the same way.
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"You were hobbling like a newborn foal last night, how you manage getting up there on your own?"
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>...Now that you're getting a good look at him, he's pretty easy on the eyes, if a bit skinny.
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>Time to fix that.
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"Come on, wheat isn't tasty for ponies. Wait until you have these hay doughnuts."
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>You slide the box on top of the examining table and gesture to it, tapping the surface with your hoof.
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"Up you go, boy."
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>He seems to understand the gesture and scurries up the side of the table, wings still awkwardly flapping as if they had a mind of their own.
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>But he doesn't dive toward the box.
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>You thought he would greedily dig into that too.
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"Go on, have as much as you want while I clean up," you coo, pushing the box toward him.
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>With a nod he gingerly picks one out of the box, and makes small nibbles out of it, his face twisting into an inequine grimace as he chews into it.
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>Strange that he doesn't seem to like it as much as the animal treats.
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>You'd think he'd take to pony food once he had some.
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>Is it the texture of the hay, sugar, or the fact that it's fried?
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>You scan the shelf of animal treats, then to the broken glass.
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>Seems like one of them was the salmon jerky, but there's no traces of it on the floor.
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>He must have emptied it before dropping the jar.
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>The jar of unsweetened nut and berry granola treats for your rodents and birds seemed like it mostly emptied too, before crashing down on the floor with the others.
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>If the amount of other treats on the floor are anything to go by, he didn't take to those.
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>...At least you know what he does like.
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>To your surprise, the stallion hops off the table and pushes the waste bin towards you.
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>Seems he knows what some household items are for too.
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>Smart guy.
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>You take great care in getting the bigger pieces of glass into the bin, and the stallion slowly starts to mimic the way you move.
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>Every time you glance towards him, he cowers like a scared dog and stops, only to resume when you do.
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>You're worried he might cut himself, but discouraging this foal-like mimicking behavior might do more harm than good right now.
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>You do opt of sweeping the rest yourself though, as the stallion sits on his haunches, watching your every move.
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"All better, do you want to help me feed the animals?"
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>He stares again, no sign of understanding.
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>You hum to yourself, thinking back to last night.
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"Move."
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>Quicker than your eyes can follow, he climbs up the side of the examining table and hunches down, ears pinned.
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"Woah, there. It's alright big guy. I'm still not upset."
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>The words he does know were likely picked up from other ponies who didn't appreciate the turned over trash cans he left in his wake.
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>You might be in over your hooves for this.
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"Come. Follow," you say undoing the latch for the back door, and slipping through.
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>"Come. Follow" he repeats in his strange accent, getting up to follow you.
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----
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>He's still very uncoordinated, but you let him carry the feed bucket.
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>Your new friend seems to enjoy scooping some feeding pellets and things for the smaller animals.
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>The poor thing fumbles and spills some here and there, and his wings still threaten to knock the odd object over.
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>This time though, you're monitoring him close.
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>If he did make more of a mess you don't really mind.
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>His eagerness to help already makes him better company than most other stallions.
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>...Though you should bring him home next time instead of giving access to fragile equipment, at least until he gains a bit more motor control.
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>You're lucky he only got to cheap jars and treats.
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>You stop when you get to Rose, a scarlet macaw.
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>She's only staying for the weekend and isn't actually sick, making her prime material to be the stallion's second friend.
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>The owners were just afraid for her first molt and wanted to be sure.
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"Hello, beautiful, how are you feeling today? still itchy?"
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>"Honey, where's the Celestia scorned tinder box?," The bird replies in practiced response, scratching at the underside of her wings before folding them back up.
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>You can't help but chuckle.
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>It's more often than not these kinds of birds are a window into somepony's family life.
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>Whether they want it or not.
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>It takes make for some good inspiration.
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>Prying your stallion friend here for more words and phrases he can parrot should be first priority.
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>It might give you a baseline of where he's been, and what he knows.
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>Maybe he even some kind of name, which would make trainin- TEACHING him much easier.
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>It would save you the effort of making one up yourself.
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>The stallion approaches slowly, flapping his wings unevenly, as if trying to mimic the bird's wing movements but doing the exact opposite instead.
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>He grunts and gives up before looking back at you.
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>Rose seems interested in your new friend here, climbing up to the cage door to observe him more closely.
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>His tail flicks here and there but he doesn't seem aggressive otherwise.
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>Looks like they're going to get along.
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"Go on and nuzzle her, boy. She's friendly."
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>The stallion seems encouraged by your tone and brings his snout in close, only to have it bitten.
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>In a yelp of pain he flaps his wings so hard it makes him fall backwards into a set of empty holding cages.
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>The feathers the bird, at least the ones she still has, are raised as she brandishes her beak.
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>You forget not all ponies have a special talent for putting animals at ease.
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>Or maybe the first molt has her in an especially bad mood.
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>The stallion scrambles to his hooves, and presses himself against you, wary of the macaw.
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"I'm sorry, I didn't know she would react like that, to a stallion, no less. I promise she's-
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>You're interrupted by the bell next to your front door.
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>Horseapples.
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"Just a minute," you muse as you turn back towards the stallion.
by Rhorse
by Rhorse
by Rhorse
by Rhorse
by Rhorse