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>Be me, experiencing the first overwhelming moments of existence. >The air is cold and humid. >The ground is wet and sticky. >My hooves ache as though I’ve been walking for miles. >I have no recollection of walking at all. >Everything hurts... >I open my eyes and try to figure out where I am. >Something tells me gnarly trees hanging around me with no leaves and ragged bark is a bad sign. >I struggle to my sore hooves, and pant for breath.  >My muscles shake with effort, like they can’t hold my body weight. >I nearly slip on the muddy ground, but I hold myself steady by spreading my wings. >I call instinctively upon my magic, and the area around me illuminates with light purple light. >I am an alicorn, and something tells me that’s not... good? Somehow. >I tuck my wings to my sides and steadily walk through the clearing. There’s no lights asides from my horn. >The sky is overcast, there is no moon and no stars to guide me. >I am alone. So very alone... >I pick a direction and walk, hoping that it’ll be towards civilization... Others like me. >It isn’t long before I see a distant warm light. >I use a burst of speed to gallop towards the lights, but I slip after only a few hoofbeats. >I land on the mud and cry out as I land on a wing awkwardly. >Gods, I hope I didn’t just break it! >I hiss with pain and begin to cry pitifully.  >Something told me I shouldn’t cry. >I cry for a while, before a strange creaking sound perks my ears. >”Hello?” >A soft voice calls out, and I rasp wearily, Here... Help... >I sniffle and rest my head on a hoof as the warm light brightens. >A butter yellow pegasus mare with a luxurious long pink mane and tail emerges, and she gasps at the sight of me. >My gut feeling regarding being an alicorn turned out to be correct, but the other pony does not run. >The pegasus walks up to me shyly and looks at my injured wing. >”Oh, you poor filly! Can you stand?” >Filly? Am I a filly to her? Something deep within me wants to berate and shout over such a name, but I don’t want to! She seems to nice! “M-Maybe...” >I try to stand to my hooves, and mostly succeed.  >She talks, but I don’t quite listen. She asks for a name, but I cannot bring myself to speak. >My injured wing hangs limply off of my side and brushes along the mud as she escorts me into her quaint cottage. >It’s... so warm. My eyes feel heavy as she grabs a towel and begins to dry my dark periwinkle mane. >I lay upon her couch at her signal, closing my eyes slowly over the course of minutes.  >By time she’s beginning to set my wing, I lose consciousness entirely...