Chapter Seven - Sweet Dough
Rain fell down in the sodden forest, leaves ringing out the percussion that is a storm in the woods. Critters hid safe and warm and dry in their burrows as a peal of thunder broke through the quiet night. Tonight was a night for all the animals to stay where it was warm and safe and dry. All save for one little pony.
Sweet Dough ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, galloping through the soft mud and slick leaves. Her breaths came hard and heavy and the overburdened bindle around her shoulders bounced wildly. She ran headlong through the darkened forest, headless of the hidden dangers underhoof. Another flash of lightning lit the woods before her in stark blues and blacks for just a moment. Just enough to see the diamond dog leaping out from her right. She ducked, narrowly missing him as the crash of thunder hid her scream. Skidding in a turn, she pulled off into the undergrowth.
“Get the Pony!” one yelled as the pack once more moved to encircle her. Her legs burned but still she ran onward, trying to put distance between her and the pack. Another flash of lighting and a stone was revealed too late. Sweet Dough tripped and came down hard on her side, skidding to a stop in the thick mud. Her bindle burst open, and what few possessions she had were scattered in the darkness. Trying to right herself, she felt the sharp pain running down her side. She would be running no further.
Sweet looked about panicked, gasping for breaths. She could hear them, cackling as they surrounded their wounded prey. “Little Pony... What is wrong?” More cackling as another said, “Little pony fell down and get boo-boo?”
“Go away!” Sweet Dough cried. She could see their eyes glowing in the darkness as they padded about her.
“Go Away!” one of them mocked. Laughter filled the night as another lighting crash revealed them. There were seven surrounding her, prowling on all four legs. Their fangs were glistening with drool as they looked down on their prey.
A glint of light and she could just make out one of them picking up the perfect little gemstones from the mud. “Doesn’t Little Pony know not to take what isn’t hers?”
“They weren't yours! They weren't anypony’s! I found them!”
“And we find you! Guess that makes you ours!”
They moved to attack, but before they could leap there was a flash of fire and sparks and smoke. The acrid smoke filled Sweet’s lungs making her cough and hack. The diamond dogs were no better, wheezing on the thick haze. A voice boomed around them, “BE GONE FROM HERE YOU DIAMOND DOGS! LEAVE MY FOREST, LEAVE MY BOGS! GO BACK TO YOUR STONE AND TO YOUR CLAY! OR ELSE I’LL EAT YOU UP THIS DAY!” A cackle deep and booming echoed in trees.
Sweet could hear them scamper away, whining and sneezing. They clearly had no desire to stay behind. Sweet tried to move, to drag herself away, but pain was the only thing to greet her as she struggled. She became woozy from the struggle. The smoke began to settle in the heavy rain, and Sweet could make out a figure in the darkness approaching. Before she could make out the figure in the dim, exhaustion finally took it’s hold over Sweet Dough. But just before all went to black, Sweet Dough could feel herself being lifted up and carried away.
***
A strange melody filled Sweet Dough’s dreams. Its melody was unfamiliar, yet calming. She could feel warm woolen covers wrapped tightly around her. She shifted and felt only a dull ache where there had been great pain before. Slowly, Sweet opened her eyes. She was greeted by the soft glow of candlelight casting its orange radiance and long shadows. She was in some sort of wooden room, filled to the brim with jars and boxes of all sorts of sizes and colors. They stacked the walls on shelves and the floor in piles. Everywhere there was a clutter, even leading up to and against the bed Sweet Dough found herself upon. A clink of iron and Sweet turned revealing a door slowly opening. A mare in long brown robes backed into the room, a tray of tea set firmly in her teeth.
The mare was a dark blue hue, with a mane to match. She seemed to almost blend into the shadows of her cloak. She set the tray onto a pile of books, which seemed to serve as a bedside table. “Ah you are awake I see. Care you for some herbal tea?” She poured out a cup without waiting for a reply. “You have had quite a fearsome night. Those diamond dogs were quite a sight. Why would they have chased you here? Deep into the woods they fear.”
Sweet took a sip of the tea, it was hot, and sweetened with honey. It quickly warmed her bones and cleared out her groggy thoughts. “Why do you talk like that?”
“What is wrong in how I speak? It helps me hone my tongue technique. But my question you still dodge. Is there not truth I can dislodge?”
“I was hungry,” Sweet began. “And I saw these little gems in the mud. I thought I could trade them for some food, but they saw me and chased me into the woods.”
“Those dogs live in Gem Ravine. There many stones are seen to gleem. For them to chase is not unknown, but why were you there all alone?”
Sweet looked away from the dark shrouded pony. “Well... I...”
“I’d bet bits in any bank, it deals with what is on your flank.” Of course she would have seen them. Those marks that had ruined her life. A loaf of bread on each of her flanks, broken in half.
“They called me a demon. They said I had made some demon pact and had to be banished for the good of the village.” Sweet’s tears fell into the tea held in her hooves. “But I didn’t! I don’t know why I’ve been marked! I didn’t do anything wrong, but everypony chased me out anyway. I wish I had never been branded by these hideous things.” She threw aside the cup, splattering the floor in the sweet tea. She moved to leave the bed but was held down by the larger mare.
“Healed and well you still are not. For now you must stay in my cot. Despite my cup which you did hurl, I think you not a demon girl. In towns oft they much appalled, and Demon I am often called. Yet when they need my remedy, then Wild Flower once more I be.” She picked up the unbroken cup once more and brimmed it with more tea. “Drink this up and rest your bones. I promise I will cast no stones. Tell me now of where you fled, and how you grew these loaves of bread.”
Sweet took another sip of the tea. “Your name is Wild Flower?” The mare nodded silently. “Thats a pretty name, not like Sweet Dough. Sweet Dough is boring.”
“Sweet Dough is a lovely name. I do not think that it is plain.” The mare named Flower pulled up a stool and sat beside the bed, taking a sip from her own tea.
“Thats what Mom always said... well without the rhyming anyway. I come from Whinneyvale, do you know where that is?”
“I know this village of which you speak, beyond these woods and up the creek.” Flower gestured as she rhymed pointing in the vague direction to the village.
“Yeah, thats it. Mom is a baker there. She makes all the bread for the village. She would trade the bread for everything we needed with everypony else and in the mornings everything smelled delicious. I’d help her bake sometimes, when she was busy. Two days ago I was taking some of the stale bread over to Old Mare Donald for chicken feed when I saw somepony in the alleyway. He was wrapped up in dirty rags and looked all skin and bones. Well I couldn’t just leave him to starve, could I?”
“You give to those who are in need, a most welcome gift indeed.”
Sweet sipped once more at the tea.“Yeah well I gave him some bread and he thanked me and I felt real good about it and all, but I went on to take the rest to Donald, and I was going through town but nopony was going anywhere near me. Like, several were cowering from me... and I couldn’t figure out why. These had shown up,” she gestured to her flanks and the marks upon them. “Maybe that guy was a demon or something, and cursed me when I gave him the bread.” Sweet drank once more from the tea, finishing it. She set the sturdy cup with the kettle.
“A curse for good deeds, would not be wise. Perhaps your curse is a blessing in disguise.”
“How could that be? Its caused me nothing but trouble!” Sweet yawned as the warm tea in her belly slowly relaxed her.
“Do not not let your gifts bring you to tears. It is only their mistrust and fears. What I suggest is to follow your heart, for no pony truly knows the diviner’s art. The future is yet yours to shape, and I’m sure your’s will leave their mouths agape.”
“You are very kind, Miss Flower. You’re not at all like they say witches are.” Flower recoiled as Sweet called her a witch, but Sweet was a little too drowsy to care. Sweet Bread yawned once more, her eyelids drooping.
“It’s time now that you got some rest. Trust my words, it’s for the best.” Flower took the blanket and tucked the young filly in. As Sweet began to finally drift back into the land of dreams, she could have sworn she heard Flower hum a soft lullaby and nuzzle her gently. And she could have sworn, half awake and half in dream, that when Flower got so close she could see a stub of bone broken off but protruding out from her forehead. Like it was the base of some broken horn.