Chapter Text
Huff, huff…
Hopeless Endeavor was running as fast as he could (which was admittedly not very fast) on the HonseRacing track. He was on his last lap, not too far behind Aubergine Medley. Rain drops smacked him in the face as he ran, the sky gloomy above yet they refused to cancel the race. Suddenly-
BOOM
The sound of a gun going off, followed by Hopeless Endeavor falling onto his stomach. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking behind him. He had been shot in the leg by that cocky bastard John Apple. He didn’t scream, nor did he cry. He just stared at his leg, before passing out in a mix of shock and blood loss.
When Hopeless awoke hours later, he was in a hospital bed. All he could hear in the empty room was the faint hums and beeps of machinery, followed by a soft knock on the door. It cracked open slightly, Foggy Afterevening gently poking her head in before entering fully and closing the door behind herself with a soft click. Her hooves made soft clicks against the hospital’s flooring as she moved to stand next to his bed. She smiled softly, a smile meant to comfort Hopeless despite his predicament.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Foggy asked softly.
“How long have I lost consciousness…?” Hopeless inquired, his voice weary.
“Only about a day. After you passed out on the track. The doctors said that it was simply from shock and your leg isn’t infected, they removed the bullet and it should heal within the next two to three weeks.”
Hopeless stares blankly at Foggy for a minute before responding, “How is he allowed to just… shoot me on the race course? Does that not violate some kind of rule book?”
“Oh sweetie,” Foggy’s smile fades slightly, “there’s not really any rule book to honse racing…”
“H-huh?! Why not?!” Hopeless jolted to sit from his original laying position, causing his leg to sting.
Foggy placed a hand on his chest, gently insisting he lay back down. She shook her head softly, telling him to rest some more before leaving the room as elegantly as she had arrived.
About two weeks later Hopeless was sent home with his leg wrapped and not fully healed. He was practically stuck to his bed, so he would just sit there and watch the other honses race on the TV (They raced pretty often, one-two times a week minimum). Despite the fact that watching the other honses able to race, while he was bed ridden from his injury, he couldn’t stop himself from watching. It only served to make him feel worse, after all he had always been miserable. Somehow, this time was different.
He felt even more hopeless than he ever had before. He let out a deep sigh, grabbing his crutches and making his way to the kitchen to grab something to eat, finally finding his appetite for the first time in two days.