Unnamed RGRE Green WIP


                                            >With the gender disparity between Equestrians at an all time high, and an ever-dwindling hope of even scoring a lowly spot in another mare’s herd– who could blame those single fillies that decide to leave their established lives behind in search of striking it rich on the frontier?

                                            >More and more, mares fed up with both their loneliness and the system of love at large quietly evacuate the many towns and cities dotting the Equestrian landmass; their solitary homes left empty as they leave the civilizations of harmony behind.

                                            >Perhaps their vanishings would be felt in time, as mares of all vocations had had enough– but the families that remained from Appleoosa to the Crystal Empire couldn’t shake their relief, guilty as it was, to see further competitors on the relationship scene willingly exit the game.

                                            >Some among those ‘remainers’ who hadn’t heard the news did idly wonder however, typically after some of their friends had already hit the trail onto the frontier:

                                            >Just what were they hoping to find?


                                            >Word traveled quick along the Equestrian trade routes, but not everypony was so keen to listen.

                                            >Rumors sprung up by adventuring ponies and from those already acquainted with living on the fringes of society were seldom given deserved credence– especially when they sounded so idealized.

                                            >Legends of tall, eager stallions– some odd crossing of minotaur and something else, simply bliping into existence along the swarthes of untamed Equestrian land.

                                            >Those who stayed at home figured it must’ve all been tall tales told by the desperate– but some who heard the call felt no hope for love otherwise.

                                            >Thus, the stretch of yet-unsteaded territory sprawling out across the Equestrian southwest known colloquially as “Coltifornia” in honor of these touted creatures–

                                            >And the Coltifornia Cock Rush would go on to be a legendary, if odd, footnote in Equestrian mythos; as mares with nowhere else to turn risked everything in hopes of a beautiful, equally-lonesome beast of a husband to spontaneously materialize on their doorstep.

                                            >Perhaps they were all fools, gone stir crazy with the lack of love in their life, who gave up any chance they might’ve had in the city to instead bank on a pipedream out in the wilderness–

                                            >Or… they’d have first dibs on the first proper influx of an excess of males into Equestria since before recorded history, the lion’s share of potential mates.

                                            >To some, this dysphoria of the many unseen and unloved from the pillars of Equestrian civilization helped -if meagerly- to balance the gender scale a bit.

                                            >To others, this was the last chance they had– so why not bet it on a Hail Mary?

                                            >With each passing day, more and more mares packed up what they could carry from their past and followed the still-fresh hoofprints of their sisters before them, carried on into the wilds of Equestria by breaths of upstart boomtowns on the frontiers.


                                            >...


                                            >One might think this all to be some needlessly dragged-out suicide attempt, wandering out into the forest with no particular destination.

                                            >Particularly in your case, as a mare who never much cared for travel– not even considering the whole… lacking any experience.

                                            >To your understanding of those who’d left before you, many simply left without even receiving goodbyes, let alone facing any opposition.

                                            >Perhaps you were only met with some because of your former occupation.

                                            >Nopony wanted to see Ponyville’s only teacher up and leave.

                                            >And why would they– they already had perfect lives; loving husbands and wonderful foals.

                                            >You leaving only caused a disruption.

                                            >Of course… it’s just as likely that’s your more jaded side cropping up– looking to breed further self-pity.

                                            >You shun the thought; there’s no room for such thinking out here.

                                            >Even if these ‘mountain men’ are as… agreeable as the rumors say, surely no colt wants a mare rife with malice toward friends.

                                            >Lightly shaking the darker accusations from your mind, you return to your ambient introspection as you take in the surrounding nature.

                                            >You must’ve been three days-away from Ponyville by this point, only stopping your trot to graze or sleep.

                                            >The fair fields rolling out beneath the Canterlot Mountain Basin are well behind you now, and instead an unnamed forest presents itself stretching beyond the horizon– your only company at the moment being the many packets of thin spruce trees rustling above, almost seeming to curl down inward toward you like a comforting, guiding tunnel.

                                            >It seemed nature really did favor her Earthponies to travel under their shade, though the “path” was currently bathed in the gentle shimmering of Celestia.

                                            >So seemingly far from her country, yet even still she offered her light to little ponies in need of companionship.

                                            >Honestly, untamed wilderness be damned– who needed civilization when a mare could experience something like this?

                                            >It was easy for you to turn away those past malign thoughts and instead ruminate on hope when travel felt this good.

                                            >Mulberry hooves leave whispers of your path in the lightly padded-down grasses as you continue on into the rarely-traveled unknown.

                                            >Surely nopony would find them– but that must be for the best.

                                            >With how you’d been feeling lately, you wouldn’t wish a similar desire to up and leave onto any mare.

                                            >Friends used to think that your special talent had been teaching because you so-loved to be around foals, and they weren’t wrong–

                                            >But if that were a question on one of your tests, you’d only feel right giving it partial credit.

                                            >You loved to be around foals because you so desperately wanted your own.

                                            >Apparently, you wanted it bad enough to pack your life up into saddlebags are brave the frontier.

                                            >You weren’t sure how far out from the so-called “Coltifornia” you were, but you hoped the travel wouldn’t be much longer.

                                            >Hearty Earthpony bones could take the trekking with ease, but the mind still can’t shake the feeling that this was all a big mistake.

                                            >With each step forward, the defeated path back to Ponyville would only be all the more hard.

                                            >...

                                            >You are Cheerilee, and you’re tired of waiting.


                                            >...


                                            >You thought that your new friends and the few adventures you’d faced together were to be just the prelude to the next chapter of your life.

                                            >Surely such miracles, though scary at first, didn’t fall onto just anypony and gobble them up despite their thrashings for quite literally anything else.

                                            >It seemed fate was destined to have reserved a notable part for you in its story despite your cowardice– and part of you was just as eager to dance its tune as you were horrified at the implications.

                                            >Maybe your reservations let that door close before you.

                                            >Or maybe your part wasn't as integral as once feared.

                                            >Oh, how you’d stay up at night, still shivering from standing before Nightmare Moon in the Townhall.

                                            >How you’d fought at every step to not face that dragon who’d taken up residence near Ponyville.

                                            >Those battles were all in the past now, both conquered and ensured that they’d not crop up again.

                                            >That assurance did little to quell your fears, even now.

                                            >From time to time the memories of those times would strike back, even with the villain dealt with, as if the battle had never ended at all.

                                            >Maybe your performances there were merely tryouts, and only recently did you realize you wouldn’t be getting another call back.

                                            >Or maybe there were just no more monsters to face.

                                            >Either way, the visits from your friends dwindled, and you haven’t heard from them in quite some time.

                                            >Perhaps the failure is on you for that– as relationships cannot be held by one alone.

                                            >That sudden thought alone pulls a gasp from your throat, and your hooves stop their idle movement forward in a cold clamp.

                                            >The cottage you’d left behind fills your vision, and tears are close behind.

                                            >It wasn’t the first time you’d second-guessed yourself, coming all the way out here.

                                            >Was this truly the right call?

                                            >Are you even ready for love, should you find it?

                                            >Are you even capable of it?

                                            >You’re thankful for both the soothing quiet of the nature surrounding you, and the fact you’re all alone out here.

                                            >Well, aside from Angel of course.

                                            >For better or worse, you have some time to work some things out on your own.

                                            >Your animal friends had all followed behind you when you began your walk out into the unknown a few cold mornings ago.

                                            >It wasn’t ideal in your mind, but you knew your oldest friends wouldn’t let you go on off your own, and you weren’t about to attempt to dissuade them.

                                            >By now, most had probably wandered off– diverted by the allure of food or mates.

                                            >Only Angel remained– perhaps Harry too, but you hadn’t heard nor smelled him for hours.

                                            >Though the bunny slept currently, curled up on your back and using your mane as a sort of nest, he’d probably be the only one still at your side by the time you ever found a boomtown to settle near.

                                            >If you ever found one.

                                            >Swallowing the impatient sobs lumping your throat, you fight down the urge to cry.

                                            >You came out here for more than just a husband, after all.

                                            >You came out here for more than just to prove to your friends that you were more than a coward, too.

                                            >...

                                            >You are Fluttershy, and you need to prove to yourself that you’re more than your name.


                                            >...


                                            >Further days would pass, to the point where you lost the bother to keep count of them, before you’d see another pony.

                                            >She was much like you.

                                            >Worn, tired, and stinky.

                                            >Even an Earthpony has her limits when braving the natural world.

                                            >Just meters away, collecting kindling as you’d unceremoniously burst from a row of wild bushes.

                                            >Thankfully, she wasn’t alone either.

                                            >... Kinda.

                                            >The very beginnings of a town sat humbly before you– more of a mess of tents and only the wooden foundations of future buildings not quite yet carved out from the surrounding trees.

                                            >Maybe it was a small amount of mares in truth, busying themselves in the work of hobbling together what they remembered of society– but you hadn’t seen so many faces in quite some time.

                                            >Some were even familiar, their concentration totally thrown off as they caught a glimpse of you from their peripheries.

                                            >Distant callings of “Miss Cheerilee!” cut through the air, and the melancholy of hearing your name spoken by another is whipped away by fillylike excitement.

                                            “H-hah! Um, j-just Cheerilee is fine out here, girls! Is… is this Coltifornia!?”

                                            >Caught in your glee, your attention was taken away from the nearby mare, your call meant for the friends in the distance.

                                            >She pulls you back from your acute nostalgia.

                                            >”Coltifornia is where you make it, Cheerilee.”

                                            >Despite her battered appearance, the mare still manages a genuine smile.

                                            >”Welcome to our little slice of it. Name’s Torque Wrench.”

                                            >She offers her hoof and you return the sentiment, hoping your coat masks the embarrassment of almost immediately ignoring the mare prior.

                                            “R-right then! Ah, sorry about that… been walking so long, I- heh, I guess I forgot how nice it was to see ponies.”

                                            >Torque nods knowingly.

                                            >”Oh, you’re not the only one filly– damn near every mare in town said the same thing when they stumbled in. Tartarus, I’ddya done it too if I hadn’t been in a group!”

                                            “You came with others?”

                                            >Torque sets back to her original task, nodding idly as you speak.

                                            >”Oh, sh’ure did! …Ngh, mind settin’ some of these here logs up’n my back?”

                                            >Wordlessly you set to it as your new friend continues.

                                            >”Earthen mares stickin’ together, love to see it! Anywho, we’d all heard the rumors of the free husbands just ripe for the takin’, mh? Hollow Hope’s about a whole world away from here, and there wasn’t much point in stickin’ around there since tourism died out– some gals an’ I figured ‘what’s the use stayin’ put an gettin older alone?’ Wasn’t nothin’ for us in ‘Hope, might as well go out in the wilderness and poach some partners eh?”

                                            >Though her accented inflection sounds chipper enough, there’s an obvious melancholy in her words.

                                            >You load the last log up on Torque’s back– cutting off her giggling canter as the load seems to teeter just on the edge of too-heavy for the mare.

                                            >A pang of guilt shoots up your spine.

                                            >Probably could’ve offered to shoulder some of that burden.

                                            “Mm… I suppose we all came out here for a reason, huh? H-have you… have you seen them before? Is it really true?”

                                            >”Ngh- well, none have passed through yet– b-but we chose this spot in the first place after findin’ some scraps of clothes near the river: Wasn’t nothin’ I’d ever seen a pony wear– Mayor said that was a sign enough when she’d established this spot.”

                                            >Mayor?

                                            >”Come on down with me, Cheerilee! I’ll dump these off and we’ll go to the bar. It’s not all that much to gawk at now, but I’m sure you won’t say no to liquor? I’m sure some of yer old friends wouldn’t mind seeing you again!”

                                            >By Celestia, yes.

                                            “T-there’s liquor here?”

                                            >Torque guffaws, beginning to haul her load back into the tent town.

                                            >You press up against her side as much as you’re able with your weighty saddlebags, offering what assistance you can to stabilize her.

                                            >”Oh! More than we can drink at the moment! We were needin’ more mouths to put a dent in Berry’s reserves!”

                                            “B-Berry!? Berry Punch!?”

                                            >Torque feigns a look of shock.

                                            >”Gosh, you know just about everypony in town, huh? You sure you’re new around here?”

                                            >As the two of you make your way to the lumber dumping ground next to what looks to be the skeleton of a building, those familiar faces from earlier begin to stop their working to hustle in beside the two of you– your duo turning into quite the party as Torque leads the retinue to the most developed building in sight.

                                            >... It still wasn’t much, more of a tent-favela hybrid than a proper saloon– but you weren’t about to be complaining.


                                            >...


                                            >You’d never seen so many ponies tucked into such a dingy pit.

                                            >It seemed like each new arrival was cause for celebration, as the whole town funneled into Berry’s dive for an excuse to end the work early.

                                            >At the circular bar in the middle of the otherwise… ‘open concept’ room, sat beside friends new and old alike, you couldn’t help but feel accomplished.

                                            “Total clamfest in here, huh Torque?”

                                            >”Hah! Well, whenever those monkies wanna pop up in our river, they’re welcome to come in here and fix the ratio!”

                                            >Shouting over the ruckus, you couldn’t help but feel at home in some way.

                                            >Usually you can’t STAND scenes like this– you already hated bars, and this one was by far the worst you’d ever been to in more ways than one: Dirty, stinking, loud, and no colts to stare at.

                                            >You certainly loved to drink, but you were more of the depressing lonesome alcoholic type– not the dumb fratfilly kind.

                                            >Maybe it was just the fact you’d been away from such things for so long, or maybe you were getting coltish and felt ‘at home’ with your sisters…

                                            >... But damn, with some hooch in your glass, seeing the smiling, rowdy faces of mares you hadn’t seen for months…

                                            >This was a just reward.

                                            >Some unicorns pumped particularly sparkling magic into ramshackle, certainly unsafe glass bulbs on the ceiling– sending trailing beams of light throughout the room as groups of mares drunkenly sang out brash shanties.