Izzys Ponygirl Journey Epilogue

"Good morning, Buttercup," called a little girl, waving cheerfully. "Where are you going?"

Buttercup slowed down a little. Although it was already autumn, the still pleasant temperatures allowed her to spend a little time outside without freezing in place. "Grall sent me out to get a few things from the village shop," she replied, pointing with a brief gesture of her head to her empty saddle.

"Your owner let you wander around on your own?"

"He trusts me," Buttercup said with a certain pride in her voice; in the past she would have been terribly embarrassed by the question alone, but as a horse it no longer bothered her. Besides, the question was justified, after all it was quite unusual, most ponygirls weren't allowed to go a single meter without a goblin. Grall, on the other hand, really did trust her, but nothing else was to be expected between good friends. "Besides, he knows I've had enough of the outside world for now." She would have liked to wave back at the girl, but of course her arms were still tied under the saddle. This was completely normal for Buttercup, she had last used her arms months ago, but as a ponygirl there was nothing they were needed for, apart from the fact that she sometimes liked to scratch herself. A small wind came up and drove her along the road a little faster. Unlike before, she no longer bothered to avoid the more crowded paths. Everyone had seen her as a horse by now anyway, and her belonging to Grall was well known. Shame was not a good quality for a ponygirl, she had realised by now, and many of the villagers had also become accustomed to her. If she was lucky, a few of the people along the way - goblins as well as humans - would give her a few treats as snacks. Grall often mocked that she would get fat from it, but that was unlikely with all her running; it was probably more of a small distraction from his own belly, which she had also contributed to with her service to him.

As was so often the case when she was travelling alone on Grall's behalf, she didn't have to wear a horse bit, as there was no one in her saddle to steer her. However, her ponytail and hoof boots remained part of her outfit, which was rounded off by the colourful brand on her bottom. The scar was unmistakable, but the colour tattooed deep into the skin with fine needles made it look even more magnificent. There was no one far and wide who wouldn't immediately recognise that Buttercup was Grall's horse - his only one, as everyone knew. The tattoo was a little less painful than the brand, but it was still strange for her to have such a colourful mark on her rump for her whole life. But that was just the way it was for ponygirls.

As always, the village was a hive of activity. Autumn required a lot of work to get everything ready for winter. The farmers' ponygirls in particular had a lot to do, and Buttercup was once again glad that her owner didn't make such harsh demands on her; compared to a draught horse, her life was luxurious and relaxed. Nevertheless, a few of the people handed her treats and stroked her head. It was unmistakable that she was just an animal here in the village, but as strange as that had felt at first, Buttercup felt quite comfortable in the role now. Most humans and goblins were simply nicer to animals than to humans, even if the animals walked upright and some could even speak. However, Buttercup had also quickly learnt that most of them preferred their animals mute. Whenever she said something, people looked at her a little strangely, as if she had broken an unspoken rule, or unintentionally reminded them that ponygirls were women after all. Accordingly, she now preferred to keep quiet in the village, enjoying the treats and having her head scratched when people felt like it.

Today, however, she had a job to do and it was important for her to prove her usefulness. The village shop was right in the centre on the main square, and so she headed there, with only the absolutely necessary detours to a couple of old ladies with the best and tastiest little treats. Once these had been properly devoured, she stopped in front of the shop and kicked a small bell on the horse post that had been placed there just for her. She had no other choice, as she knew the sign on the shop door well: "No access for animals of any kind - including ponygirls!"

In the past, she had only smiled at the sign when she had done some shopping for her father, but now it applied to her and the shop was taboo for her, as were most other shops and pubs. Ponygirls had to wait outside or in the stables, even those who were once regular customers.

"Isabel!" shouted Mr Sigismer, who was actually the watchmaker in the village. But he also ran the village shop as a side business - or actually it was the other way round, a village needed much more general merchandise than watches, but his pride probably demanded that he saw himself as a watchmaker. He slapped his stomach in satisfaction. 'The order is already completed.

'Buttercup,' she corrected him, knowing full well that he was only having a bit of fun with her.

"Of course, a good name for such a splendid mare. I'm just surprised you haven't got a round belly yet." He climbed down the small staircase with two pouches and pricked Buttercup's belly with his little finger. Buttercup jumped back in surprise and suddenly turned red. "Don't worry, he'll find a good stallion for you."

"We have Titan on the farm," Buttercup said, before realising that wasn't a good answer.

"Then I hope you have fun with him."

Now Buttercup's ears were also glowing the finest shade of red. 'Are these the things for Grall?' she quickly diverted before she sank completely into the ground.

"Right, both bags are for him. Don't give the little bag to anyone else, do you understand? It's only for your owner." With that, he reached to her bosom and unfastened the small pouch dangling between her breasts, where Grall had put the money for the purchase. The man's fingers brushed her skin, and Buttercup knew damn well that it wasn't an accident, and that Grall had put the pouch there for that very purpose. A few months ago she would have smacked the man for it, but now not only were her hands tied behind her back, she actually didn't mind. It was one of the perks of being a ponygirl that touch had a completely different meaning. His fingers were rough and pleasant, and she couldn't resist pressing against them a little. "You really need a stallion. I need to talk to your owner about this." He patted her on the bum and sent her off again.

"Thanks," Buttercup said, and she wasn't sure herself if that was for the shopping or for the pat.

The way back was uneventful but pleasant. Few ponygirls enjoyed the same freedom as she did, but they weren't volunteers either, after all, though that made no difference to her by now. There was no doubt that she was legally the property of Grall, and she would be returned if she ran away. It wasn't the life she had imagined as a little girl, but it certainly had its perks. She had often worried about her future, but now she had no worries at all. Grall would deal with such problems, she only had to serve him as a mount and was otherwise allowed to ignore all the little miseries of the world. It was liberating and quite enjoyable. She continued along the path and passed the large horse paddock where her friends were already playing together.

Although they were all - including Buttercup - actually too old for it, it seemed quite normal for ponygirls to play catch like little girls again, and to have fun for hours in the most ridiculous way in the paddock. Even Sunshine and Lisande, who were still rather grumpily accepting their existence as ponygirls, were completely unfettered and carefree in this respect. Buttercup called out to them and all three - Sunshine, Lisande and Albaea - came running to greet her, Albaea in particular almost tripping over the fence with joy. The other ponygirls weren't wearing saddles, but as usual their hands were tied behind their backs and they had horse bits in their mouths, which made conversation a little difficult. But Buttercup had learnt well by now how to carry on a conversation with just a look.

"Just a little shopping for Grall," Buttercup explained in response to Sunshine's questioning look, who rolled her eyes in return. Buttercup knew the mare's opinion that if they were going to be used as animals, the goblins should at least be there. But maybe it was just because she liked spending time with Saxea - as evidenced by the nose ring. It had only taken a few weeks after Buttercup's brand for Sunshine to get down on one knee for her goblin. Now she wore two brands: Oozol's farm's, and Saxeas personal one. Buttercup was still surprised that Sunshine had given herself up for this, but sometimes things were more complicated than they looked at first.

The path led along the fence to Oozol's farm, and so all four of them arrived at the gate together.

"You're back quickly," called Pexo and welcomed Buttercup.

"No distance is too great for a fast horse," she praised herself, and Pexo shrugged briefly. Like most goblins, he still had a hard time with a talking horse, but Grall had insisted that she be allowed to - as the only one. At first, the other grooms had objected, but by now Grall was officially co-owner of the farm, and therefore their superior, so it was accepted with a grumble. At least by the grooms who had stayed; Gribat and a few others couldn't and wouldn't accept that the harsh whipping of horses was forbidden. "Where's Grall?"

"He'll be here soon. Wait, I'll take the groceries off your saddle."

"But not the little bag!" she said sharply. "That's only for Grall."

Pexo flinched briefly. "If that's what you want. Who am I to disagree with the owner's mare." He threw his arms up in the air dramatically, then slapped Buttercup's bum with vigour before she could dodge. It was a game between the two of them, and this time she hadn't seen it coming.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but before she could answer, Grall came walking up with Mexi, Saxea and his father.

"Just at the right time. Pexo, take the big bag, then saddle the other horses. We want to go for a little ride."

"What's in...," Buttercup began and leant forward, but Grall just put a finger over her mouth and silenced her.

"You'll find out soon enough."

She opened her mouth for another question, but Grall just stuck the horse bit in her mouth and brought her to her knees with a "Tack!" She grumbled slightly, but stopped immediately when he gave her a light tap with the whip. It wasn't a nasty gesture, just a rider's reminder to his horse that it had to behave.

Before Grall could mount, Mexi ran past him and jumped into Buttercup's saddle. "It's my turn today!" she squealed and gave Buttercup a little kick to get her up. Grall just managed to grab the bag. Buttercup neighed in confusion, but Mexi seemed determined. "It's about time Albaea got another rider. Come on, you get used to it." With that, she steered Izzy with a light hand to her mare and scratched her head. "Grall is clumsy, but you'll survive."

Albaea puffed discontentedly, but then she got down on her knees for Grall, who hurriedly climbed into her saddle. Buttercup's stomach tightened. She didn't particularly like it when Grall rode another horse - jealousy was probably the right name for it - but at least in this case it was a good friend. Saxea climbed into Sunshine's saddle and Oozol also went to his horse. He kissed Lisande on the forehead and then climbed into her saddle. The mare was the only one of the friends not yet wearing a nose ring, and Oozol had made it clear that he would not force the issue, but it was an open secret how much he loved his horse. Although Oozol generally had a rather practical and matter-of-fact view of the ponygirls, Lisande had some special liberties with him, which the mare occasionally took advantage of.

The ride was gentle and rather slow, even though Mexi was still an unusual rider for Buttercup. The goblin girl was a lot gentler than Grall, and also a little lighter. What's more, she had never received so many cuddles on a single ride before; something Buttercup could certainly get used to. Albaea, on the other hand, kept looking longingly over at Mexi, much to Grall's annoyance.

Apart from that, the four horses enjoyed the slow walk and listened to the goblins sitting on top of their saddles while their horses did the work. Everything was as it should be, it seemed; one of the last opportunities of the year to go out together before the weather turned. The trees had already lost many of their leaves and the birds had become quieter, but here and now the eight of them were happy, especially with each other.

The four ponygirls let their eyes wander as they followed their reins purely on instinct, but then Buttercup stopped abruptly.

"What's wrong?" Mexi asked without even reaching for the whip. "You have to keep going."

But Grall was a little more receptive to his mare's mood, he followed her gaze and he too snorted in surprise. On the path ahead of them, a ponygirl came running up, pulling a heavy cart. They all recognised her immediately, or rather, the girl she had once been. "Grunhilda," he marvelled aloud, and Buttercup nodded in agreement, it was no doubt the mean girl from Buttercup's old school. She was naked like all ponygirls, had a registration number on her somewhat small boob and a very large ponytail in her butt. There was also a particularly large and nasty brand on her rump. Various rings all over her body labelled her as a farm animal for field work and, as Buttercup had to admit, she had become visibly stronger in the meantime. But none of this explained why she was a ponygirl in the first place. Buttercup looked to Oozol, who most likely knew the answer.

"So she's arrived," the old goblin said thoughtfully. "The second girl from our village to become a ponygirl." Buttercup neighed. Had Grunhilda become an animal voluntarily? No, that was unthinkable. She had heard about the girl's disappearance, but what had happened? "Come on, let's ride on. I'll explain later."

The four ponygirls rode close to Grunhilda and their riders greeted the coachman. He saluted back briefly and gave his horse a swat on the bum with a nasty whip to make her run faster. As Buttercup realised, this was probably a frequent occurrence; Grunhilda's bottom was already covered in welts.

Their eyes met and Buttercup immediately lost all sympathy. Even as a horse, Grunhilda was still unbearable. She lifted her nose high into the air - as far as the reins would allow - and pretended that even now she was still better than Buttercup. How silly, and unbefitting for a horse, Buttercup thought, but she left it at that. They were both animals of the goblins, controlled by their masters with reins - now and for all time to come. Their bottoms learned the language of the whip and their arms were only useful for stabilising saddles; whatever Grunhilda thought of Buttercup, it was completely meaningless.

The goblins steered their horses a little further, and even through one of the neighbouring villages, where the rest of the story about Grunhilda slowly unravelled. A small gathering of humans and goblins had gathered in the main square. As Buttercup quickly realised, there was a good reason for all the curiosity: A tall human stood in the centre, a middle-aged man in very good clothes, holding a short leash that ended at the collar of a goblin. This time, even the goblins were shocked; such a thing was completely unusual, and yet it was not the only reason for their surprise: they knew the goblin. It was Kreks!

"Sit!" the man ordered and Kreks sat down with his bare bottom on the stone floor. "Give paw!" Kreks obeyed again, although it was visibly difficult for him not to bite the man's hand.

"That's outrageous," hissed one of the goblins in the crowd.

"Why, you have women for horses, and as it turns out, you goblins make good pets, am I right, Fluffy?"

"Yes, master," grumbled Kreks, or Fluffy, as Buttercup now knew. There was a tail in his butt too, although in this case it was for dogs.

The man hit him over the ears with a rolled-up newspaper. "Dogs don't talk!"

Fluffy barked apologetically.

"Come on," said Oozol and steered Lisande past the spectacle. Once they were out of the village, he declared: "So it's true. After Buttercup had become unattainable for Kreks, he wanted to make another girl his ponygirl. Grunhilda was probably a random victim, the horse catchers from the east paid by Kreks were not picky. But as you know, it is forbidden to catch a girl here. Of course, goblins everywhere catch girls as ponygirls..." Lisande and Sunshine snorted discontentedly. "... but it's just not allowed to catch girls from your own neighbourhood. Kreks thought he could get round that rule with strangers, but that was a mistake."

"Then why is the girl still a ponygirl?" Mexi asked in amazement, partly because she must have read this question in her mount's eyes.

"The horse catchers weren't guilty of anything, their actions were legal, but Kreks shouldn't have hired them to catch a local girl. Then he must have tried to bribe a judge. Let's put it this way: as you could see, it wasn't a good idea. Although I don't like that goblins are treated like that." Now it was Buttercup's turn to snort angrily, she didn't like the goblins' arrogance on this point, as if they were something better. Oozol ignored it. "Be that as it may, Grunhilda was bought back by her family before they understood that she must remain a horse. It seems they're trying to make up for the loss with labour. I'm sure some farmers could make good use of a loan horse."

Buttercup chuckled softly. So there was justice in the world after all. She looked briefly at Grall and could well imagine him on all fours. The young goblin noticed her gaze and shook his head vigorously, but Buttercup was sure that she would make him do it one day. His ears drooped sleepily, a clear sign that he feared this too.

Mexi gently steered Buttercup right up to the lake, but none of the goblins dismounted. "It's a nice place, but why are we here? You don't do things like this for no reason!" She looked deep into her boyfriend's eyes, who just smiled mischievously.

"I can't fool you," Grall replied and steered Albaea right next to Buttercup. The two horses nudged each other's noses affectionately, as was customary for them by now. Buttercup didn't like to admit it, but Albaea was her favourite of the three. She was like a little sister, but the good kind, with whom you could share all your secrets and who never stabbed you in the back.

Saxea and Oozol were getting visibly nervous in their saddles, as Buttercup suspected they knew what was going to happen, and she suspected it too by now. Only Mexi seemed to be completely unaware.

Grall cleared his throat. "Under the stars of the night and the rays of the sun, on the ground of the earth and on the backs of horses..." he began and Mexi's jaw dropped. As a goblin, she of course knew what these words meant. "...we shall always be united. I hereby ask you to become my wife." He pulled a very finely crafted, wooden necklace from his pocket. While humans favoured metal for their rings, the goblins preferred a material that connected them more strongly with life and nature. Nevertheless, Buttercup recognised immediately that this necklace must have been expensive, surely the merchant had had to get it from far away. Mexi jumped around in the saddle and Buttercup could only grin. It was wonderful to see how happy the girl was. Grall was also visibly relieved.

"What should I do?" Mexi asked, overwhelmed.

"It's customary for you to say yes if you want to."

"YES!" Mexi shouted and jumped into Grall's saddle on Albaea, who had tears in her eyes but stood still for her owner while the two goblins kissed in her saddle. But not only Albaea had tears in her eyes, Oozol and Saxea were also crying slightly, and as Buttercup herself realised with some surprise, her cheeks were wet, too. She pressed herself against Albaea and the goblins gave their horses a few kisses.