Chapter 1:
Hollow Shades- Nightingale
The night of the Timberwolf moon grew near, one I had heard stories of my whole life, but this year would be the first to happen in my lifetime. A warm breeze, rare for this late in the fall, tossed my dark brown mane out behind me,. Upon my back I carried a basket of cloth streamers, colored in the rich reds and golds of the drifting leaves around us. The moon might not be full for another three days, but the festivities were to begin tonight.
My mother, Peach Pie, a light peach colored earth pony with a blonde mane and tail trotted next to me, while my father, Nighthawk, a dark chocolate brown bat pony stallion, trotted on my other side, his wings tucked to his barrel and a large blue and white checkered picnic blanket draped over his back.
We were in charge of setting up the storytelling meadow. In less than an hour, Grannie Azure would bring the foals of Hollow Shades to us to hear the tale of the Vumdilm, a special Timberwolf.
It didn’t take us long to reach the meadow, surrounded on two sides by the wooden fences that kept our pigs and goats. Both were on the far side of their pens, trembling, the goats letting out little bleats of fear. I heard the sound of a howl in the distance, and a shiver ran down my spine.
“Sounds like the timberwolves are hunting tonight,” Hawk said softly, dropping the picnic blanket onto the brittle yellowing grasses. “No wonder they’re scared.”
“It will set the mood for Grannie’s stories,” Peach whispered, reaching into a saddlebag to pull out some nails. “Let’s get those streamers hung up.”
I nodded, following Peach as she stuck each nail into the soft wood and spread out the streamers. Meanwhile, father spread out the blanket, putting a large stone on either corner so the wind wouldn’t blow it away.
Looking up at the moon I let out a soft sigh, the night of the Timberwolf Moon would also mark my twenty-first birthday. Yet, I couldn’t really be happy about it. Looking around at the other ponies around my age, doing their own hard work to prepare for the big night: game booths by the village gardens, food booths near the pond, and a stage for music and dance performances closer to the woods on the north of us, my eyes flickered from flank to flank. Each of them had received their cutie marks ages ago.
With us all being from such a small town, away from everypony else, most talents were quite simple. Woodworking, painting, farming and other similar things had been just the kinds of things they loved to do. I had tried them all, some I had been good at, but nothing compared to those who smiled proudly down at their cutie marks in the task. It was hard being of adult age, and the only one with nothing to show for it. Grannie Azure kept telling me it meant I was destined for greatness. That when my purpose arrived, I would finally see that glow and feel the warmth against my flanks.
But who was she kidding? With how old I was to become, I was likely to be a blank flank forever. Father nuzzled against my mane, smiling down at me.
“Cheer up, my little Nightingale, Grannie should be here anytime with the foals.” He grinned, wrapping a wing around me.
As if on cue, a few moments later Grannie Azure appeared on the path into the forest, the village foals trotting behind her. The first part of Grannie’s stories always took place just into the forest. The timberwolves rarely got too close, as they had plenty of prey to hunt deeper into the woods, and Grannie, though old, was still strong and able to take on anything that might try to hurt them.
The foals, some giggling and racing toward the picnic blanket, while others walked slowly, keeping close to Grannie, made their way over to us. They spread out over the blanket, those with wings fluttering them excitedly as Grannie paused before them. Her coat had turned almost a midnight blue in the fading light, her black mane frizzed out all around her, sticking out of the tight bun it had once been in.
She waited for the foals to settle down, smiling over at my parents and me as she did so. I smiled back, taking a seat behind the foals, with my parents to either side of me. Grannie had always been an excellent storyteller, no matter how many times I had heard this tale, I never grew tired of it.
Grannie looked up at the moon, drawing everyone’s gaze to it. “It is nearly the next full moon,” she said softly, letting out a little cough. “When the weather stays this warm, this late into the fall, we call it the Timberwolf moon.”
“Long ago, before even the princesses took charge of this land, a great prophecy was made,” Grannie continued. I ran a hoof through my mane, listening as I did so.
“Nopony knows the pony who made it, it might have been Starswirl, as some versions go,” she whispered. “Or somepony whose name has been lost in time.” Grannie looked up at her audience, raising her hooves in the air. “An ancient darkness ruled the land, throwing fear, anger, and death wherever it looked.”
“Was it Sombra?” One little pegasus colt asked, raising his hoof.
“No, young one, this was before even Sombra,” the mare said, eyes wide. “Nothing seemed able to stop it, and the ponies feared they would all perish. Timberwolves followed the herds, their putrid stench making all ponies uneasy. It was already bad enough that this darkness followed them, but to have the timberwolves follow as well? It drove many of them MAD!” she shouted, making a few of the foals in the front jump.
“W-what happened Grannie?” another colt, this one a unicorn, asked.
“Next,” Grannie said, grinning at the colt. “The timberwolves attacked! Winter was long that year, and there was little prey to go around for them. With what little food we were able to gather, the ponies were weak, surviving mostly on what little fish we can consume. The attack was led by a huge timberwolf, made of white aspen bark. His pack tore through an earth pony tribe, bringing many down and dragging them away.”
Many of the foals gasped, hooves to their mouths as they stared wide eyed, waiting for Grannie to continue.
“Many thought it would be a slaughter, as they fought the wolves for their lives. The moon hung full above them, blood fresh on the snow. One brave young mare, Starbringer, raced through the battlefield to reach her parents, who were fighting against one of the larger timberwolves. Just before she reached them, she plowed into a young timberwolf, both of them tumbling to the ground.” Grannie rolled onto her back, feigning a shocked look on her face.
“As the young wolf and Star returned to their paws and hooves, they stared into each other’s eyes. A crack like the sound of thunder filled the air, as the bark of the young wolf crumbled to the ground. In its place, stood a handsome young earth pony stallion.” Grannie grinned as the foals eyes grew wide and mouths hung open in surprise. I smiled, this had always been one of my favorite parts. Though the magic for such a thing to happen was impossible with no unicorn or alicorn around in reality, it was still a nice tale.
“As Star gazed at the young stallion, neither noticed the battle had stopped around them,” Grannie continued, rolling back to her hooves and standing up, wincing slightly. “They watched each other, neither able to take their eyes off each other, as the timberwolves still alive slowly gave up the fight, racing away from the pony tribe. Star and the young stallion could already feel love blooming in their hearts,” Grannie sighed, “and as the snows of winter melted, they grew closer. It wasn’t long before they wed, though not all was to be well for them.” Her voice took on a darker tone and her eyes grew wide.
“The darkness attacked! And even though they fought valiantly, beating it back and sending the evil to Tartarus, it glanced them a departing blow. A curse was laid upon Star’s beloved, and all his future kin. He would be able to remain a pony, but his children would be born as timberwolves,” Grannie growled softly, waving her forehooves in the air.
“But, not all hope was lost for these children,” she smiled down at the foals closest to her. “They would have a chance at life beyond that of the lowly wolf. Their tribe was special, that of Star’s beloved, in that because of that moment, when Star met his eyes, they were now connected to the timberwolves. From that moment on, during the night of a full moon, when eyes of pony met that of wolf, a connection could be made.” Grannie spread her hooves wide, “and with this connection, wolf would once more transform into pony, and find their true mate. This became known in our old language, as the Vumdilm. ‘An oath of the heart’ in our modern language.”
Grannie took a deep breath and looked back up at the moon. “It is said, that the darkness will escape from Tartarus once more, in the year of a Timberwolf moon. There, a Vumdilm and their pony mate will once again fight it off, only this time, it will be destroyed for good. The curse will then be lifted from Star’s beloved’s line, and they will be able to choose if they want to remain pony, or wolf.” Grannie bowed, to the cheers of all the foals, clopping their hooves together.
I looked back up at the moon myself, ears twitching as I heard the sound of a howl again, which seemed closer this time. Before I could ponder too much though, mother put her hoof to my shoulder.
“Come on dear, time for the rest of the festivities,” she smiled softly at me. Nodding, I stood and followed her away, while Grannie continued on to other tales for the foals.
In the forests near Hollow Shades- Shadow
The forest was quite warm tonight, strange for this late in the fall. A nearly full moon hung in the sky, soft clouds flowing slowly past it and bringing the small clearing I sat in into flickering shadows. From the hill I sat upon, I could see an owl silently flying by, gazing down at me before turning and disappearing into the trees. A howl sounded deeper into the forest, one of my sisters from the tone of it. She had found a buck, and was bringing it back to the den after a good race to catch it. I licked my lips, it had been some time since we last had deer meat. With our pack being so small, they tended to be harder to take down.
I slowly made my way down the hill, but not back toward the den. What the ponies called Hollow Shades, a small village nestled deep in our woods, called to me. My limbs creaked as I walked, having grown stiff from sitting on the hill so long. I lifted my muzzle, sniffing the air. The scent of pony was strong, sweet and tangy, and as I drew closer I could hear laughter and music.
Pausing at the edge of the trees, keeping downwind so I wouldn’t be scented. I spotted three of them, two mares and a stallion, in a field next to the pens that kept their goats and pigs. I grinned, seeing how scared the little things were. They might not be able to smell me, but they could sure sense my presence. My ears creaked as they perked up, seeing the foals that had been in our forest run up to join the older ponies. I settled down in the grass, the wind whistling through my wooden joints. Mother had always said the night of the Timberwolf moon was special to the ponies, now I would finally see for myself.
I listened as the old mare started her story. She was probably the oldest pony I had ever seen, shriveled, skinny, and one the pack probably would have went after, if we regularly hunted ponies. Father had told our side of the story to me and my sisters as we grew, but never yet had I heard it from the pony’s point of view. Looking down at my black cherry bark hide, the sharp claws on my paws, I imagined for just a moment them tearing into pony flesh like my ancestors, and shuddered. No, that wouldn’t happen. Father had taught us from birth that these ponies were not to be prey.
We had more than enough prey in the forest, even more so with our winters being fairly mild. There were a few weeks in the year we might go to bed hungry, with the smaller prey hiding as they hibernated, but nothing bad enough to starve us.
I heard another howl, one of my other sisters, wondering where I was. With father having died three summers ago, I had become leader of our pack, and thus they awaited me to eat. Turning back to the ponies, I watched as the three older trotted away, leaving the old mare with the foals. Many of them were clopping their hooves, and I groaned, realizing I had missed the end of the story! Shaking my head, I looked back to them and was surprised to see the old mare staring right at me.
I sat perfectly still, feeling the wind blow against me as I hid behind the bushes. There was no way she could know I was there. I was still downwind!
“The one who will break the spell already lives,” she said softly, a strange grin on her face. “He or she will find their mate among us, and in doing so, all will change.” Her gaze turned back to the foals, and I breathed a sigh of relief as they laughed and she moved on to another story.
Standing up, I turned around and loped back toward the den. I’d had enough stories for one night. That old mare spooked me, with what she seemed to know.
As I came into the den’s clearing, my sisters padded over to me. There was only the three of them, me, and a few of my father’s old pack. Six of us in total, after losing my mother last year.
“What took you?” Cherry, my youngest sister, growled, clawing at the ground. Her dark brown wooded tail swishing.
“I was watching the festival,” I said. Turning to Aspen, my oldest sister, I nodded to her. “Congratulations on your kill, dear sister.”
“Thank you Shadow,” she smiled softly, blinking her glowing green eyes. “Maple scared it out of the bushes and I pounced.”
Maple, my other sister, blushed and lowered her ears. “Aww it was nothing. That buck was just too slow.”
“You need to pay more attention to the pack, and less to those ponies!” Cherry snorted. “You are our alpha Shadow, act like it!”
“We’ll talk about this later Cherry,” I said, staring over at her. “Let’s just eat?”
“Fine,” she huffed, and following Aspen we padded over to where she had dropped her kill.
It was a fine buck, a little on the skinny end but with more than enough meat to fill all our bellies. As we dug in my thoughts turned back to the old mare’s words. Was she speaking of me? Surely I couldn’t be the one. I had the pack to take care of. Even with my curiosity about the ponies, she supposed I would fall for one of them? Ridiculous!
Stepping aside when my belly was full, I trotted toward the den. Smiling as my pack settled in beside me. The elders were quick to fall asleep, their snoring coming loudly from the back of the cave, where their brittle joints didn’t have to face the wind.
Though, this would be the first Timberwolf moon in my lifetime. With no young females in the pack except my sisters, I would need to find a mate eventually. I sighed, resting my muzzle on my paws and closing my eyes. There was time to think of that later.
Hollow Shades- Nightingale
The festivities didn’t start to wear down until the moon was high in the sky. Most of the foals had already been ushered to bed by their parents, grumbling, wanting to hear more stories. I smiled. Grannie was very good at what she did. With a yawn of my own I trotted back over to the storytelling blanket, where Grannie was just finishing up her last story for the night.
Looking at the few remaining foals as she laid on her back, upside down, she smiled. “And that, is how our foreponies founded Hollow Shades,” she said slowly rolling to her belly as the foals cheered. They tiphoofed off to find their parents.
I walked over to Grannie and held out a hoof. She grabbed it, hauling herself up with a grunt of pain. “You know, you could just tell them the stories,” I chuckled, hugging her close. “You don’t need to do the actions too.”
“Are you trying to imply I’m too old?” she snorted, staring over at me with one eye closed.
“No, of course not,” I shook my head. “But isn’t it better to be careful?”
She huffed at me, twitching her ears. “Dear Nightingale, I helped raise my siblings, I raised your father, and I have helped raise you. I can handle a little rolling in the grass.” She flicked her tail at me. A moment later though she did give a sigh of exhaustion. “Though I think you need some help to the house. Come on, let Grannie help you.” She put a hoof around me and led me toward our little cabin.
I grinned down at her. Right, I was the one needing help. But I let her think that, and trotted toward our home. Pushing open the door, I stepped inside, Grannie following close beside me.
Our home wasn’t much: two small bedrooms for my parents and Grannie, with a loft above the kitchen for myself. An outhouse out back that we shared with the Shades family. Besides that a cozy living room with a couch, two chairs, a bookcase with a few books, and a beautiful fireplace our great grandfather had made of river stones. It was cold and unlit tonight, the weather being too warm for a fire, but soon it would have a roaring fire once again.
Grannie shuffled toward her room, her hoofsteps dragging on the ground. I followed behind, pushing her door open for her. “Thank you, my little bird,” Grannie yawned. She pulled aside the covers and climbed into bed, leaning back against the pillows.
“You’re welcome Grannie, sleep well!” I said and made for the door.
“Hold your hooves for a moment,” Grannie chuckled.
I turned around and smiled softly at her. “Yes Grannie?”
“Get your flank over here,” she patted the bedspread beside her. Nodding, I did as she requested, hopping up beside her. “You ready for your birthday?” she asked.
I blinked in surprise, but nodded. “Yes, I suppose so. Not much to prepare for though, is there?”
“Of course there is!” she snorted. “I have told ye a million times my little bird, you are special. Your cutie mark will come when it is time.”
“If you say so Grannie,” I sighed.
“I do!” she nodded firmly. She pointed a hoof at her dresser drawer. “Will you open that, and pull out the pale blue box?”
Complying, I did as she asked and pulled out the box. It was thin, maybe three inches thick, and only a little bigger than the bottom of my hoof. I hoofed it over to her, and she opened it, leaning it to the side so I could see what was inside. It was a small, rounded moonstone, expertly crafted, connected to a silver chain.
“This has been in the family for generations,” Grannie whispered. “Handed down from the oldest filly to oldest filly. I think it time it became yours.” She picked it up, and with shaking hooves managed to clasp it around my neck. It nestled comfortably against my neck, the chain cool against my fur.
“Why are you giving me this now Grannie?”
“You will know soon, my little bird,” she said. Letting out a huge yawn, she waved me away. “Now, it’s late, and I need my beauty sleep,” she grinned, winking at me. “You get some sleep too dear.”
“Of course Grannie, sleep well,” I said, smiling softly at her as I left, closing the door behind me.
I paused for a moment when I heard her cough again, but when the creak of the bed-springs reached my ears and I heard her sigh softly, I continued on.
Mother and father were still gone. They had volunteered to help put away the prizes and equipment for the game booths as things slowed down. Letting out a yawn of my own, I climbed up the ladder to my loft and rolled into bed. Pulling aside the curtains to a small window over the foot of my bed, I gazed out at the stars.
The moon was just visible when I lied down. Its glow cast a blue sheen over my dark grey coat. I don’t know how long I lied there watching it, but I was startled awake a while later when my father opened the front door.
He and mother tiptoed inside, looking up at me as they did so. “Sorry for waking you,” father whispered. “Grannie get home alright?”
“Yeah Dad, she is fine. Tired, but fine.”
“Good, get some sleep. Morning will be here before you know it.”
“Yes father,” I said, smiling down at them. “Sleep well, I love you Dad, love you Mom.”
“Love you too,” they chorused, and trotted into their room, closing the door.
I looked back outside. The moon was no longer where I could see it, but its glow still cast a bright light around me. I closed my eyes, listening to the crickets chirping outside. In the distance, a timberwolf howled, and for a moment the crickets chirping grew still. A shiver ran down my spine, not one of fear, but of something else I couldn’t quite place.
Taking Grannie’s necklace up in my hoof I smiled down at it, rolling the moonstone around. It was beautiful. I sighed, holding it in my hoof as I wiggled under the covers. There was a lot of work to do for the festival tomorrow, and Grannie wasn’t the only one needing her beauty sleep.