Chapter 9: Journey
As it turned out, five years without ever being used could have a rather negative effect on a limb's endurance.
It had been hardly half an hour before the burning fatigue had spread well throughout the base of his wings, creeping into his back and sides. Nictis was gritting his teeth with focus, trying to force himself to continue on, but it was doing little good. Already his speed was flagging, his flightpath wavering as his increasingly-numb wings faltered slightly with each beat.
It was with much resentment that he finally allowed himself to enter into a shallow dive, descending toward a gap in the canopy, where a stream flowed down a small cliff into a pool. He landed a bit more heavily than he had intended, staggering a couple steps to keep his feet, and then groaned as he let his wings hang limply beside him.
Half an hour in, and already I've run into a problem, he thought with a grumble. Yeah, this will go well.
He shook his head a little as if to dispel the thoughts. I was in such a good mood, too. And I should be in a good mood. I'm going home! The thought brought a little smile to his face, despite the ache in his back. It'll just take a little longer. I can still walk fine between flights. So what if it'll take an extra... day or two? It's hardly like I'm pressed for time now that I know where to go!
It made for a good plan. Hiking along, with short flights when he was feeling rested, or when he needed to get past rougher terrain. He could still make good progress, and after a few days of exercise, maybe he'd be able to fly longer distances, especially once he reached the badlands.
Still, he wanted to rest up for a moment. He had, perhaps, pushed himself a little hard. Besides, a look at the pond had stirred up a certain thought.
One of the more enjoyable luxuries he had enjoyed during his time as Meadow had been relaxing in a bath, and he had always wondered if it felt just as good in his natural form as it had in that soft, fleshy pony form. A grin grew on his face as he quickly shrugged off his saddlebags and set them well back from the water, setting the compass atop them. Then he turned, gave a short run-up, and leaped over the water with a short buzz of his tired wings.
He struck the water, disappearing under the surface, only to come up a moment later, sputtering and splashing. He gasped for breath, feeling as if his chest had almost locked up with the sudden shock. He had known that it wouldn't be as wonderfully warm as those baths had been, but he hadn't expected it to be so frigid! He floundered and flailed as he fought his way through the water, until his hooves finally struck solid ground, and hauled himself out of the water.
He stood there for a moment, shuddering slightly as the water coursed off him, then gave a full-body shake. When it was done, the dripping had mostly stopped. Glancing back at the water, he frowned slightly, again concerned that the years among ponies had made him soft. He had bathed just fine in unheated pools back at the hive, after all. They had to have been warmer than this, though. Sure, they had been chilly, but they hadn't left him shivering afterward.
On the plus side, my wings aren't bothering me anymore. He stretched his wings out to ensure that he still could, and felt only a distant ache, half hidden behind the dull numbness from the cold water. And I don't have any of that dumb fur to dry out.
Indeed, he was mostly dry already, and if he had brought along a towel, he could have finished the job in moments. For now, though, it was good enough. He padded back over to his saddlebags, suppressing a shiver. He slipped the compass's strap back over his head, then opened the bags.
While he had a few useless mementos, he at least had the foresight to pack supplies, most notably food. That wasn't for now, though. Here in the forest, he could just eat leaves and grass. The bag of oats he had packed was for later, when he reached the barren badlands beyond. So were the pair of water bottles. Finding food would be an imposing task in those lands, and water would be even harder, but the oats should give him something to eat for a few days. That should be long enough to find the hive, particularly if he should recognize any of the landscape as he got nearer. Any longer than that, and he'd have to backtrack to the woods, stock up on leaves and such. They were less dense of food, which would limit how long he could venture into the badlands before returning to restock, but it would do. Most likely, he wouldn't even need it.
For now, he simply pulled out the map. He hadn't flown long, but it was a long trip, and checking his position wouldn't hurt. He looked around, finally noting a distant mountain in one direction, and a closer hill in another. He compared their direction to the compass, then searched around on the map. He knew his rough location, which narrowed down the area to search, and eventually, he picked out what he assumed were the landmarks he had seen. He traced the lines leading from them, finding where they converged, and pulled out a pencil to mark the spot. The map wasn't as detailed in the forest as it was for the more settled areas of Equestria, but it showed a stream right where he had marked. That was a good sign.
A final measurement confirmed his course, and he tucked the map back into his bags before strapping them on. Before leaving, he took a quick drink from the pool and munched on a few leaves. It was a bland meal--I've definitely been spoiled by pony cooking--but it was sufficient.
Giving the straps a final tug to cinch them on tight, he trotted off into the forest, occasionally consulting the dangling compass to keep his course.
As day turned to dusk, then to night, Nictis couldn't help but feel satisfied with his progress. Tired, but satisfied. There was a faint warmth of fatigue in his legs and chest, nothing too bad, just enough to know that he'd done a lot of hiking. It had gone smoothly, interspersed with a few minutes of flying here and there to clear rougher terrain, or when he was simply feeling well-rested.
He hopped up, wings buzzing to loft himself into the branches of a tree. Landing on this higher vantage point, he looked around. It would be a good place to rest for the night. With his nocturnal habits back in Manehattan, he was used to making do with what ponies would consider fairly little sleep, but after a day spent hiking he was starting to feel the fatigue more and more. It would be good to sleep now, safe and hidden while the night-time predators go about their business.
Sitting down, he again pulled out the map, squinting off into the distance to make out distant landmarks. It was difficult and required a few short flights above the canopy, but eventually, he placed another pencil mark on the map.
It was disappointingly close to where he had started.
A quick measurement showed that he had only covered thirty miles. Well, it was only half a day's travel, he reasoned. And the days are still short. If I start out when I wake, I can easily make double that distance tomorrow, maybe even triple.
He considered the math. Despite the possible delays, it still seemed acceptable. He didn't have to worry about water or physical food out in the forest, and he could last for several weeks on the energy he had stored up. Even if he only made the same speed he had been making, but through a full day, he'd still have a couple weeks' worth of energy to spare when he reached the badlands. That should be more than enough. That wasn't even considering that, after five days, his wings would probably be much stronger. Yes, this should work.
Kicking back in the crook of a couple branches, he sighed happily, looking up to the sky. The moon was slowly reaching its way up into the sky, the silhouette of the Nightmare peering down from it. He gave a little smile, chuckling darkly at the thought of that particular piece of pony mythology, and closed his eyes to sleep.
His eyes snapped open as the entire world shook around him, a blast of noise hitting him like a wall. He was lurching to the side, hooves scrambling to catch at the limb he was resting on, while his sleep-addled mind tried to make sense of the world. His body slammed back against the tree, half of him dangling off into space, but his grip held. Below he saw a sudden movement of glowing green below him, and another blast of sound.
Scrambling, his hind hooves slammed against the trunk of the tree, pushing himself out into the open air, as that pair of glowing, green eyes lunged upward, the wooden jaws of the timberwolf snapping at him. He dipped for a moment before his wings caught the air, propelling himself upward and away from the beast.
A dozen yards up, Nictis paused, panting hard in shock. The timberwolf stared up at him, snarling at his escaped prey, and now Nictis noticed the other timberwolves pacing around. Then the timberwolf that had attacked him reared back, letting out a loud, piercing howl.
Nictis frowned in anger, and his horn lit up brilliantly with energy. Snapping his head down, he flung a brilliant green bolt of fire that streaked through the night sky, striking the timberwolf in the chest. Instantly the howl turned into a cry of pain, the creature hopping back and fleeing, wisps of smoke rising from it as it backed away.
Satisfied, Nictis descended to land precariously in the upper branches of a tree and looked around. The moon was now nearly at its peak, showing that he had gotten a few hours of sleep, at least. Not like I'm getting any sleep now, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest, the cold rush of adrenaline still coursing through him. I'll just... nap later on if I get tired.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he spread his wings and took flight again, determined to put a good amount of distance between him and this place before he risked landing again.
After napping through the early morning, Nictis was feeling much more prepared for his journey. Another quick consultation with his map confirmed his location, and he resumed his hiking.
The map had shown that the next section of the forest was fairly level. Originally, he had expected this to mean progress would be easier. Instead, he found nothing but sodden wetlands stretching on for miles, forcing him to make short flights between dry sections of ground. Even the weather had turned damp, clouds gathering to unleash a light but constant drizzle. He hoped that his bags would keep their contents dry, particularly the map and his food. The rain didn't bother himself much at all. It was somewhat chilly, but it simply flowed off his carapace, having no fur to soak into.
Apart from a few rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds on occasion, it was a fairly dreary day, if uneventful. He didn't even see much wildlife, and what little he did see kept its distance, wary of a potential predator. Instead, he was left alone to trudge along the increasingly muddy ground. Every now and then he would try to flick off the mud, annoyed at it dirtying his carapace. An hour later, he had given up the attempt at cleanliness, simply ignoring it instead. It didn't really matter, after all.
Even as night fell, the drizzle persisted. He flew up into another tree, wedging himself in the crook of a couple branches--slightly higher up in the tree than his previous night's perch. He was pleased with his foresight as he pulled out a small canvas tarp, just large enough to drape over himself. It would keep him dry through the night, and that was all he really needed.
He lay back, listening to the rain patter lightly off the tarp. Something about the rhythmic tapping was familiar and comforting, a soft background noise. He sighed softly, settling in against the tree. A small smile teased at his face as he did so. This would be so uncomfortable in that soft-skinned pony body.
A distant rumbling broke him out of his thoughts. Pulling the edge of the tarp down, his ears perked up, listening intently. For just a moment, it sounded like thunder, but only a moment. Then he recognized the deep, rising and falling tone. It was a roar, powerful enough to echo throughout the wetlands, muted to a dull rumble only by distance.
He tried to reason to himself that whatever had made the noise was far away, that he would be safe, hidden in this tree and out of sight. He tucked the tarp back over his head, trying to block out the concern with the soft patter of the rain, trying to keep his ears from twitching at every little sound. He even tried ignoring the distant roar when it sounded again, some time later.
Despite his best efforts, it was not a very restful night.
Nictis had hoped that the clouds would have gotten all the rain out of their systems by the time dawn came, but it seemed nature had other plans. Instead, he woke to the steady sound of rain pouring down on his tarp. A peek under the edge revealed a world cloaked in gray and obscured under a dense curtain of rain.
He trudged along through the mud, the tarp draped over him as a makeshift poncho. Progress would be slow today. What little dry ground had existed before was now soaked through, turning to mud as his hooves fell on it. Flight was awkward in the downpour, and wearing the poncho was impossible while doing so. He often made do without flying over the shorter stretches of water, wading through the shallower portions. The biting cold didn't bother him very much, anymore.
The forest was silent, except for the sound of rain. No animals wandered about or called out. Nothing moved, except the trees wavering in the wind. It almost seemed as if he were the only living thing around.
Or possibly the only living thing dumb enough to go wandering about through a swamp in the rain.
By the time it began to grow dark, Nictis was more than ready to stop for the day. His legs ached, his stomach complained at having nothing but leaves and grass to eat, and his optimistic outlook on the journey had been thoroughly drowned by the pouring rain. He merely grumbled as he tucked in for the night, hardly even caring anymore that he was wet and muddy.
When he awoke, he was greeted by silence, and when he pulled the tarp away, he was greeted by the soft glow of the morning sun. The world was still soaking wet around him, but the rain had finally relented, the clouds drifting apart to reveal glimpses of blue beyond.
He had a hard time finding landmarks to judge his location by, but he made his best guess. Having done so, he hoped it was wrong, but suspected it was correct; if he had determined his location, he had made less than twenty miles the previous day. Such small progress was hardly surprising, given the terrain and weather, but that made it no less disappointing.
Grabbing a quick meal of leaves as he went, he resumed his journey, soon taking to the air again. Flying was disappointingly exhausting, but he could still go for ten minutes or more at a stretch, trotting along between flights. It was an exhausting way to travel, but it would make up for lost time.
The broad wetlands weren't so bad from the air. The damp smell of decay still reached his nose as he flew along the treetops, but the view was so much nicer, the sea of green spread out under the sun, curving over the hills that grew steeper the further away they were. He altered course toward the nearest line of hills. Hiking along solid ground would be quite preferable over these wetlands.
It was afternoon, during one of his short flights, when he encountered something new.
Nictis had just cleared a small ridge and was descending into the shallow valley beyond when he noticed the movement far to the side of his course. A large winged creature was rising up from the trees, flying in his direction. Moments later, another appeared, then another. Soon a half-dozen of the creatures were in the air and flying toward him, an obvious urgency in the beating of their wings.
Fear dug its way into his chest, gripping at his heart. He had no idea what they were, too far away to discern details, but it was obvious they were flying for him, and fast. There were few reasons a pack of creatures might be approaching him with such urgency, and none that he could think of were anything he wanted to be present for. Turning, he tried to build as much speed as his weakened wings could manage, despite knowing there was no way he could evade them for long. Their wings were beating swift and strong, quickly eating up the distance between them.
As they drew nearer, he began making out more details, though they did not bring any recognition. The creatures looked vaguely like ponies in their build. Granted, ponies with craggy, stone-like hide, a long reptilian tail, wicked claws in place of their hooves, and a mouth filled with sharp, deadly teeth, as if they had been crossed with a dragon and born out of solid rock. It was like a mockery of the pony form, vile and monstrous, with a look in their eyes that seemed to say "you look tasty." An abomination that seemed all the more shocking for the vague resemblance to those soft and weak-minded creatures.
Nictis dove for the trees.
Behind him, the creatures put on a burst of speed, snarling. Whatever they were, they were quick, closing the distance faster than Nictis had expected. He twisted to the side with a startled yell, the first of the creatures slashing its claws through the air where he had just been. The next one lined up for its pass, and Nictis tucked his wings in, plummeting out of the way. The trees reached up for him, branches slapping and scratching at his carapace as he crashed through them, and then he was clear again. He had only just righted himself, wings giving a single beat to slow his progress before he struck the ground.
Tumbling for a few yards, he finally came to a rest against the trunk of a tree, battered but whole. A shriek drew his attention in time to see one of the creatures flying in through a gap in the canopy, slowing to weave awkwardly around the trees. The large wings helped them in the open sky, but here under the canopy, it was a different tale, forcing it to slow down and fly carefully.
Nictis quickly leaped to his hooves and bolted off into the underbrush, determined to put the most trees and branches between him and these flying predators as he could.
Another had joined the one weaving its way through the trees, while the rest circled overhead, swooping low to swipe at the top of the trees. It was nothing but a gesture of frustration, but each pass, each slash through the upper leaves and angry cry of hunger, made his heart leap. Already he was panting hard, the fatigue bearing down on him as he ran and leaped through the underbrush in a near-panic. If only he were in better shape, his flight muscles fit and exercised, he could have evaded them easily. His short, insectoid wings were perfect for such confining terrain, unlike their broader wings. Instead, he was limited to short flights, each one straining his already exhausted wing muscles just a little bit more. He wouldn't be able to outrun them, which meant he'd have to outmaneuver them, and that meant he had to think. He had to look past the simple-minded urge to panic, he had to think and plan, to outsmart these beasts.
Soon, an opportunity presented itself. A thicker grove of trees gave him a few moments cover as he dove into their midst. He would never evade them on hoof, but he had other options, given time. Cowering in the shelter of the trees, he lit up his horn, concentrating. He only needed a few moments to focus, attempting to carefully weave the intricate spell, rather than simply pouring raw energy into it as his fearful mind insisted. He tried his best to ignore the loud, predatory cries, the sight of the creature tearing at the brush that formed his flimsy shelter. It clawed its way closer, and even as the green flames rose around him, it lunged.
Nictis gasped as the flames vanished, falling back against a tree. An angry cry pierced the air, no more than a hundred yards away, the creature protesting its prey's inexplicable escape. Nictis shuddered, hunkering down in the shadows as he tried to catch his breath. Even from here he could hear the beasts tearing through the underbrush, trying to find him.
Many minutes passed before the creatures let out a final, collective shriek of frustration, launching themselves back into the sky. Slowly, the anxiety began to drain from Nictis, and he let himself fall to the ground, sucking in deep breaths.
He didn't dare relax, however. He could still see the movements far above, through the leaves. They hadn't left. They were merely circling about, looking for any sign of movement that would give away their prey.
The creatures hounded him through the day. He snuck along under the trees, while the creatures searched for any movement below. When they caught even the slightest glimpse, they dove and tried to root him out, while he scurried along, trying to keep away and hidden. Several times they drew close. Several times he thought they had left, only to have one come tearing in through the forest, forcing him to run or hide.
They were relentless.
Nictis didn't dare climb into a tree to sleep that night, a perch that would be far too visible to the airborne predators that still circled overhead. Instead, he crawled under a bush, managing only a shallow and fitful sleep.
When he woke, there were no signs of the creatures.
He crept along cautiously, not daring to expose himself just yet. The sky remained empty. Peering out from the edge of the treeline, overlooking a broad clearing, there was no sign of them. Had they abandoned their pursuit overnight? Or had they hidden, waiting to ambush him?
Nictis didn't dare fly. He didn't even dare expose himself enough to find landmarks. That could wait until he was certain he was safe from those creatures. Cautiously setting out, he was determined to travel under the cover of the forest until then.
Nature, however, had other plans.
Nictus came to a halt at the tree-line, looking out into the broad, gently rolling field. The tree-line across the way beckoned, promising the safety of miles of uninterrupted forest, separated from him by no more than a quarter mile of open ground. Looking both ways, he could see the tree-lines stretching on for miles, almost perfectly parallel.
It left him with a choice. Risk being seen crossing the field, or circle around, sticking to the trees, and lose a few hours of travel time. He was already well behind schedule, and all the evasion of the previous day had brought his progress to a crawl. If he had the time, the choice would be easy; why risk something on a chance, when a bit of extra time would ensure his success?
Time was, unfortunately, not on his side. Yes, it would only be a couple hours at most, but that was several miles of progress he would lose. Crossing the field would put him well ahead, as well as proving that those creatures were not following him, allowing him to travel more freely. And if they were still following him? Well, his wings were rested, only a faint ache running through his chest from their earlier use. He could evade them easily under those trees, and then he would have mile upon mile of cover to travel under. It was a risk, one he would not want to take if he had a choice, but at the moment it was the best option.
One factor was in his favor, at least. With a flicker of his magic, his form changed to that of a lean pegasus, the faded-green coat and mane a much closer match to the tall grass of the field than his natural glossy black. A little voice in the back of his mind was trying to think up a name for the new form, but he ignored it as irrelevant. This form was not intended to fool ponies. The creatures it was intended to fool were not going to ask him his name.
He snuck out from the cover of the trees with his body held low, hooves moving swiftly and precisely. The grass tickled at his belly and sides as he advanced. His eyes anxiously scanned the skies, expecting at any moment to see those creatures appear.
Right as he reached the very middle of the field, one of the creatures rose up from the trees behind him, wings pumping hard.
In an instant, Nictis leaped, shedding his disguise in mid-air as he took flight. Seeing its surprise lost, the beast let out a cry, answered moments later by several others. Risking a glance back, Nictis saw several more of them. The whole pack was chasing him, again.
And the morning had started so nicely.
He beat his wings as hard as he could, taking advantage of the lead he started with. Despite their advantage in speed, he reached the trees before them and hardly slowed down. The beasts, or at least the couple that tried to navigate through the trees, were not so agile. Under the trees, none of them could match his speed.
They were clever, though. Another pair flew over the canopy and crashed down through it, directly in Nictis's path. He swerved, the two creatures scrambling after him, while the previous pair flew up, out of the confines of the forest, and sped forward. The plan was obvious; keep diving in under the trees, chase him along, while the next pair dives in front of him.
The strange beasts might not be able to match him at his best, here under the canopy, but they didn't plan to. They were going to keep ambushing him, keep forcing him to fly all-out until he exhausted himself. Then, when he could no longer flee, they would have him.
As much as he hated to do so, he had to admit that it was a good plan.
Swerving again, he tried to put on a burst of speed, but already the fatigue was building in his wings. Soon he would begin to slow, and the slower he got, the easier it would be for the creatures to catch him. If he couldn't shake them soon, he'd have to spend even more of his dwindling energy on another portal.
Even that would be just delaying the inevitable. If they continued to pursue him, continued to force him to use his magic just to escape them, they'd run him dry.
Doesn't matter. Survive this first. Long-term can wait!
He burst out of the trees into a small clearing, putting on a burst of speed as he hurtled toward a small hill and the trees beyond.
The hill moved.
Nictis felt like his heart skipped a beat as the brown lump drew back, starting to lift off the ground. It twisted around like a giant tendril until a huge head swung around to stare straight at him with an eye as large as his entire body. Another head rose up to peer over it, then another.
He had seen a hydra once before, but only from above. From that perspective, it was easy to take the experience lightly. Coming face-to-face with one, Nictis was suddenly struck by just how big it was.
As the giant beast opened its jaws, Nictis shot straight up, desperate to get away from the humongous beast that bellowed after him. The flying creatures that had been pursuing him scattered, but only for a moment. Once they saw him out of the hydra's reach, they lunged in again. Nictis only just saw the first one coming in time and twisted away, but felt an impact on his side that sent him tumbling; the creature's claws had struck him, leaving a gouge in his carapace, but the chitinous shell held. Righting himself, he had only a moment to snap off a panicked fire-bolt at the next attacker. He had put almost no energy in it, leaving it too weak to do any notable damage even if it had hit, but the flash of flame was enough to convince the creature to veer away. It wasn't going to risk being hurt by its prey, not when there was no need for it.
Spinning around, Nictis flung out two more fire-bolts, little sparks of flame intended to simply keep the beasts at bay without spending too much of his limited magical reserves. They circled, darting in to provoke and distract him, attempting to bait him into exposing himself. Even as most of the pack circled, two had climbed higher into the sky, angling down to dive at him.
Below them, the hydra roared out, each of its heads looking eager to catch any of them that strayed too low.
His mind raced, trying to find a way out of the situation. He couldn't get to cover, couldn't out-run them, and certainly couldn't out-fight all of them. He couldn't even fire-portal away, as there were no solid surfaces up in the sky for him to use.
The two above him had tucked their wings in to dive at him. He needed to get out of this situation, and now. His thoughts went to the soldiers of the hive, and in particular, a spell he had seen them practicing. He'd never done it himself, but the concept was simple enough. Some summoned flame, a bit of telekinesis, and he should be good. Probably.
He pitched down, wings buzzing full-strength as he plummeted toward the hydra below, the entire pack of creatures behind him crying out and diving to pursue.
As he dove, he focused his magic. A sheath of flame surrounded his horn, abruptly flaring out to form a fiery wake around him. The hydra bellowed out angrily but pulled back from the sudden fireball. He had a clear path, now--straight to the ground. It rushed up at him with a terrifying speed, only a moment away.
There was no time for reservation. Conservation could wait until he wasn't moments away from death. He focused on his magic, pouring it out in a sudden torrent. The other spell began to fail as he did, the sheath of flame flickering away, while a few fresh flames popped up on the ground below.
Nictis grit his teeth. This was going to require perfect, split-second timing, or it was going to all go horribly wrong. Tucking his head in, he braced for the impact.
On the plus side, if I screw this up it won't hurt for long.
The impact was the most jarring, full-body shock he had ever felt, matched perfectly with a flash of brilliant green flame. The jolt sent him into a reeling daze, the world a blur of activity. The fire wisped away in an instant, and he distantly noted that he was in the air again. Green, brown, blue, all flashed through his vision in a rapid blur. Another impact; to his muddled mind, it came through not as pain but a sudden dull ache in his back without any source or reason. Nothing made sense anymore. Another ache spread through his side, and he felt the breath leaving his body. The world had all turned to a blurry brown. Something was resting against his back.
Some indiscernible amount of time passed before the pain finally seeped through his muddled thoughts. He gasped, then grit his teeth, only barely choking back a cry as the feeling returned to him. He curled in on himself, still gasping for breath.
Slowly the world began to refocus.
Nictis was laying in the dirt, a broken branch resting across his back. Trees loomed over him, sheltering him under their canopy. He'd done it. The timing might not have been perfect, but he'd pulled it off. He'd formed a fire-portal as he fell, and hit it perfectly. Well, almost perfectly.
A roar caught his ears, echoing through the trees. He shifted, pushing himself up--and immediately choked back a cry of pain as his left foreleg gave out immediately. Taking a moment to recover, he pushed himself up with the right, instead, the wounded limb clutched tightly to his side.
Rising up enough to see over the low bush he had landed beside, he could see the hydra in the distance, roaring at the flying creatures that circled it angrily. One of them lay at the hydra's feet, unmoving. It must have flown too close trying to pursue him.
Nictis sank back down, cradling the injured leg.
For a few minutes, he simply lay there, ignoring the pain. He was simply too happy to be alive. That happiness was short-lived, however, as he surveyed his injuries. His left foreleg was badly injured, to the point it hurt to move it at all, a deep crack splitting the chitin just above the knee. A touch of his hoof to his face made him wince, revealing another crack running along the side of his head. The ache running through his body made him feel lucky that his back hadn't been broken, and when he finally managed to turn his stiff neck enough, he could see that the edge of his left wing had been folded back in a very disturbing fashion.
He slumped back against the ground, slowly recovering his breath as the distant sound of the predators shrieking and roaring at each other continued in the background. It wasn't so bad, he tried to reason with himself despite the pain. Yes, it hurt--oh, it hurt so much--but that was temporary. The wounds would heal. The magical energies he held would see to that.
Unfortunately, that was now part of the problem. He had burnt a huge amount of energy in his escape, and now more would be drained by his body healing itself. Had it been too much? A few days should probably see him healed up enough to travel at full speed, although perhaps without the flying. Past the lingering fog of pain, he worked a few numbers.
He whimpered a little at the results. If all went well, he'd have a few days' worth of energy left by the time he reached the badlands. Perhaps a week, at most. If he hadn't found the hive by then, he'd starve. That was even assuming that everything went as well as planned, a thought that brought a grimace to his face.
Nothing had gone as planned. He should be scouring the badlands already, but instead, he hadn't even made it halfway there. He should have been able to fly for hours, but his own lack of personal care and exercise had left him completely unfit for the journey. The wildlife plagued him, turning an already lengthy journey into a treacherous hunt. Now, with him already injured, further delays were almost inevitable.
He couldn't do it.
Nictis let out a weak, shuddering sigh. If he kept on, he'd probably die in this forest. He'd starve to death, assuming some predator didn't eat him first. And why?
Because I was stupid. Because I was so excited by the idea of going home that I rushed right into it without thinking, or planning, without even knowing what I was getting myself into.
He closed his eyes, shuddering faintly. For the first time since he was separated from it, the hive felt so close, and yet he could not make it.
I can try again. He drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and ignoring the piercing pain along his side that accompanied the action. Yes. I can go back and recover. I'll prepare, exercise my wings until I can make the flight. Just because I... I failed, this time, doesn't mean I can't try again when I'm ready.
Slowly, tediously, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. His side screamed at him when he put any weight on it, leaving him sitting somewhat lopsided, breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He tried to cling to the hope of another attempt, with himself better prepared, but the pain made it hard to focus on anything beyond surviving these woods. Wearily, he pushed himself up to his hooves, left foreleg still held up against his side. The world seemed to waver a bit as he struggled to keep himself righted, and began to walk.
Crunch.
For a single instant, he thought that he had just broken his hoof or his leg; that some unnoticed injury had abruptly worsened as he put weight on it. The thought passed as no pain followed the sound, and he carefully stepped back. Something glittered softly on the ground.
He leaned down, unsteadily. It was a shard of glass, now broken into smaller fragments. A couple other glimmers caught his attention, a few other tiny fragments scattered around. He stared at them for several long seconds, his thoughts slowly working their way through the sludge that seemed to fill his mind. He sat back on his haunches, hard, ignoring the pain that lanced through his side at the impact, his hoof going to his chest to grab his compass.
It was crushed. The glass face had been broken out, one side of the case smashed in. Dirt littered the inside, and the needle wavered drunkenly, scraping against the warped case. It must have been under him when he hit the ground, or when he was tumbling.
He had broken it.
He had failed. Because of his own foolishness, his own incompetence, he had failed, and in the process, he had ruined the only possession that mattered to him. It was the only thing he had left of her, and he couldn't even keep it safe.
Nictis trudged listlessly through the darkened forest. The injuries had begun to heal over the past few days--he could now put weight on his left foreleg without it hurting--but he still felt a terrible, persistent numbness. He just continued on in a haze, the broken compass tapping lightly against his chest with each step.
It had been three days since the last time his life had been in danger, and it seemed the forest had decided that was long enough.
Where three days of hiking had failed to draw him out of that haze, the faint movement in the bushes nearby brought about his attention in an instant. All the practice in stealth and detection brought about a reflexive response, jerking away and turning to face the potential threat.
Seeing that it had been discovered, the timberwolf advanced, and all around Nictis, the rest of the pack emerged from the forest, eyes fixed on him.
Nictis narrowed his eyes, a fire building inside him. He had failed at his journey, been hunted, hurt, dragged through Tartarus on this doomed little excursion, and now that he was slinking back to Equestria in shame, now he had another problem to deal with. He grit his teeth and looked around at the slowly advancing predators. A little voice told him to flee, to escape, but he silenced it.
Instead, he slowly turned, looking over the timberwolves until he had presented his flank to the one he had first spotted, the nearest.
As he expected, it took the opportunity he had offered it and lunged for him. His reaction was planned and swift. A flash of green enveloped his horn as he turned, and blasted a bolt of fire into the leaping timberwolf, bringing its leap to an abrupt halt and sending it crashing to the ground. It flailed, howling out in pain as parts of it smoldered. The pack surged forward, but he arced around with a loud snarl, sending up a fan of flames. The beasts shrank back with startled yelps.
Nictis turned to the wounded timberwolf, still writhing about as it tried to extinguish itself. Nictis glared down at it, baring his teeth in a predatory snarl. Again his horn lit up, and he brought it down. A blast of green immolated the downed timberwolf, a sharp howl of agony piercing the night before everything went still and silent.
He looked around, watching as the timberwolves slowly and silently withdrew into the forest, the shadows flickering in the light of the fire.
And just like that, the rage in him died.
Nictis sat down hard, choking back a sob. It seemed so hopeless. He was hopeless. He wasn't in control of anything, anymore, even his own emotions. For just a moment, it had felt as if he was in control. He could control the conflict. He could defeat the creatures attacking him.
It was a lie, one he had convinced himself of. He wasn't in control. He'd just gotten angry, lashed out. He had been nothing more than an angry nymph throwing a tantrum. He could have escaped easily, just taken to the air and landed in a tree. That would have been control. That would have been restraint, intelligent. Instead, he wasted more of his dwindling energy on a fight he could have avoided, energy he couldn't spare.
Did he even have enough to make it back?
He shook himself, forcing himself up. He rose into the air, ignoring the pain in his wing as he drifted up into the upper limbs of a tree. He sunk into the crook of a branch, wanting nothing more than to sleep.
He felt so tired.
The light of day slowly faded as night fell over Equestria. One by one, the lights went out in the windows of every town, little wisps of smoke rising from chimneys with the last of the evening's fires. The world grew still, the activity of day abandoned as everypony withdrew from the cold and dark of the spring night. Soon, only the stars and the moon stood witness to the silent world.
Tap.
Scrape. Tap.
Thump.
It was the final sound that finally drew a response. The door opened, propelled faster by the form slumped against it. Inside the doorway, Misty Dawn started, eyes falling on a familiar sight from years ago: a brown unicorn, dirty and bedraggled.
"Meadow!"
Meadow Song tried to speak, to say anything, but she couldn't form the words. She only barely recognized the feeling of Misty clutching her in her forelegs. Words were being spoken, but they didn't register.
The only thing that her mind could focus on was the wonderful sensation of sympathy and concern pouring into her senses, emotions she devoured with a ravenous hunger.