Penumbra

by Deep Pond

The Battle of the Fields

The land to the east of Ponyville was a patchwork of rich farmland for a number of miles, sandwiched between the Everfree Forest to the north and the swift Horseshoe River to the south. A mix of farms and orchards, it had been tended by earth ponies for nearly a hundred years, ever since the founding of Ponyville itself.

Beyond the farms, the soil became poor and rocky, and the forests fell away. Scattered clumps of trees dotted a landscape of plains and hills, occasionally interrupted by small glens and gullies. Eventually, should one continue east far enough, the hills rose into rocky foothills and eventually mountains: the Talon Peaks, homeland of the griffins. As a rule, ponies did not travel far in that direction.

A broad, rocky hill, some twenty miles outside of Ponyville and just beyond the easternmost of the farms, was the scene of bustling activity. Five hundred earth ponies milled about, doing their best to remain organized in companies, following the colorful banners of their centurions. Nearly a hundred of them, scattered evenly through the five companies, were clad in heavy, padded vests of improvised armor, courtesy of the unflagging efforts of Rarity and her assistants. If the colors were peculiar and the fit wasn't all it could be, nopony said a word. They knew where those vests had come from.

West of the earth ponies was a gathering of unicorns, two hundred strong and organized into units of ten. Pegasus ponies buzzed about overhead, like enormous, multicolored bees, conveying messages, scouting the area, and otherwise making themselves useful. Perhaps another hundred ponies of various types were present as well: healers, food preparers, and those otherwise unsuited to combat but eager to help. They were mostly confined to two clusters of earth pony-drawn wagons, located on the north and south flanks of the western edge. In all, nearly a thousand ponies were gathered there: more than half of Ponyville's population.

The focal point of all this activity was a small group of ponies near the eastern edge of the hill. Twilight Sparkle, frazzled but determined, levitated her binoculars in front of Big McIntosh's – Captain Crimson's – eyes so her captain could observe the enemy.

“Looks like between fifteen hundred and two thousand of the dogs to me,” the purple unicorn said. “Plus about three hundred griffins. Of course, there's no telling what's hiding inside that bank of fog.”

“Eeyup.”

The army of Fallax Equa was encamped just inside the east-most wall of the dome of cloud that had englobed Ponyville. Separate from the cloud wall itself, a large bank of gray mist floated in defiance of air currents, obscuring a significant portion of the canine army. Twilight glared at it, certain that it meant nothing good.

“I still don't see Fallax Equa. Do you see her, Applejack?”

The earth pony blinked as the binoculars floated in front of her, then squinted through them. “Nope,” she said after a minute. “Must be hidin'. But you'll know her when you see her. She's big, like Princess Luna, and all dusky blue-black, with them creepy turquoise eyes.”

The pegasus scouts, although restricted by the presence of the griffins, had reported that the enemy was undoubtedly aware of the Ponyville force. Their arrival had spawned no small amount of activity among the dogs, though even Silver Gleam – whose knowledge of military matters came from textbooks – was unimpressed by their level of discipline. On the other hoof, the dogs were physically larger than the ponies, armored, and outnumbered the defenders about three to one. They might not need discipline.

“I wonder . . . is there any point at attempting negotiations?” queried Silver Gleam hesitantly. “I know it's traditional, but in this case –”

“They started the killin',” said Applejack flatly. “If they want ta surrender, Ah'll listen, but Ah'm here for a fight.”

Silver Gleam glanced to Twilight, Captain Crimson, and Lieutenant Rainbow Dash of the pegasus ponies. Crimson did not react, his heavy-lidded gaze focused on the enemy army. Dash, her wings and tail twitching, grinned fiercely, eager to do battle. Twilight frowned, then nodded.

“I agree with Applejack,” she said. “Fallax Equa and her army started this by murdering ponies in cold blood. They're not going to be offering any terms we could accept.”

The ponies stood in silence for a time, watching the dogs and griffins. At last, Crimson turned and eyed Twilight silently. The unicorn sighed.

“You're right; there's no point in delaying any more.” She turned to a lavender unicorn and nodded sharply.

“Sound the call to prepare for battle.”

The unicorn levitated her trumpet to her lips and blew a series of short notes. Immediately, the earth ponies began advancing with the dull rumble of hooves on dirt, following the centurions and their bright banners. Behind them, the unicorn Decanii lead their units in small clusters of ten.

Rainbow Dash leaped skyward as the pegasus ponies formed up on her. Already used to flying in formation – they did it every year during the Winter Wrap-Up – the pegasi hovered above the earth ponies, ready for battle. Unlike their ground-bound counterparts, the pegasus ponies had disdained both centurions and banners – “This is all the banner we need,” Dash had declared, twitching her gaudy tail – and now formed a multicolored swarm.

Turning to join the unicorns, Silver Gleam paused. At Crimson's advice, Twilight had committed three companies of earth ponies – three hundred ponies, all told – to the battle, holding the other two in reserve. The Yellow, Green and Black companies – lead, respectively, by Applejack, Steady Gait the farm pony, and Oak Hoof, the head of the town watch – were advancing towards the enemy. As they came to a halt, Applejack stepped away from Yellow Company and turned to face them all.

“All right, everypony,” she called, her voice carrying clearly. “Y'all know why we're here. We're here 'cause that bunch o' mangy dogs –” she pointed a hoof towards the enemy army “– think they can just stroll in and take what's ours. What we've worked and sweated and bled for, ever since mah Granny was a little filly. Does that sound right to y'all?”

Angry muttering rose from the earth ponies.

“But that ain't all.” Applejack glared at the ponies, green eyes glinting. “The Mayor and me, and Clover, and Dizzy Twister and the others, we came out to say howdy. And what did they do?

“They killed 'em. They cut 'em down without warnin', in cold blood. No reason. No cause.”

The angry muttering was louder now.

“We've always been peaceable folks 'round here, but ya can't reason with someone like that. They done started this donnybrook, but by golly, we're gonna finish it. And we ain't doin' it for revenge. We ain't doin' it for money. We ain't even doin' it for our farms and our homes.”

Applejack's cold glare raked the ponies. “We're doin' it for our families, for our friends. We're doin' it for our neighbors, who help out when times are hard. We're doin' it for our ol' grannies and grampies, who deserve a quiet rest. We're doin' it for our brothers and sisters, our little colts and fillies, who deserve a chance to grow up. My little sister Apple Bloom ain't gonna end up as no dog's slave, not while Ah got three good legs.

“What about y'all? Who are y'all fightin' for?”

“Twist!” shouted somepony from Yellow Company.

“Diamond!”

“Pumpkin!”

“Bluebell!”

Suddenly, names were coming thick and fast, a tidal wave of sound and determination. Silver Gleam's legs trembled, and he reminded himself that he had to lead the unicorns, not go haring off with the earth ponies. Applejack reared, pawing at the air with her forehooves.

“All right, y'all,” she bellowed. ”Let's show 'em what ponies can do!”

Behind Silver, the unicorn trumpeter sounded the charge. Applejack turned and galloped down the hill towards the dogs, the earth pony companies thundering after her.

---

They hurtled like the wind, the thunder of their hooves a terrible drumbeat. The dogs crouched, readying for battle, some wavering visibly as the enraged ponies came on. Applejack selected one particular dog, a yellow-eyed brute taller than his companions, and made him her target.

The world seemed to narrow, and Applejack saw clearly every detail of the dog's face: the ill-fitting helmet, the scraggly whiskers, the fang protruding over his upper lip.

Suddenly, he was right there. With a mighty leap, Applejack crashed into the dog hooves-first. All around her, the field erupted in sound and fury as ponies met dogs. Bodies thudded against bodies, hooves crunched on armor, and claws found flesh. Dogs howled in pain and rage, ponies bugled and whinnied and screamed.

Applejack bucked a dog that never even saw her, then reared and struck another with her forehooves. A dog clawed wildly at her, but she slapped his paws aside with her tail. Another clawed a line of fire across her back; she saw a green stallion trample the dog before she could react. A pink-maned mare went down, screaming horribly, her side a bloody ruin.

Risking a glance up and down the lines, Applejack was heartened to see that the ponies were doing well. Although some were down, the front rank of the dogs was in complete disorder; the larger canines had clearly underestimated their equine opponents and they were paying the price. The three banners, Yellow, Green and Black, waved bravely above the melee.

Another dog rushed up, snarling; Applejack crashed her shoulder into him and knocked him off his feet. Before she could finish the creature, two more came at her with slashing claws. She found herself fighting side-by-side with a pale green earth pony she didn't know; together, their flailing hooves battered back the dogs.

Applejack had never been one to shy away from a brawl. She'd gotten in her share of fights, both serious and casual, and had never given or received anything worse than a few scrapes and bruises. Until the previous day, she had never killed anything larger than a horsefly.

Now she killed.

She drove dogs back with flailing forehooves, smashing canine paws and faces that came too close. Her hind hooves crushed ribs and shattered legs. Dogs shrieked in agony, or gurgled hideously as Applejack's pounding hooves crushed out their lives. Blood smeared on her hooves and fetlocks; blood spattered across her sides.

It sickened her.

Ah gotta do this, she told herself, dodging a strike. Ah gotta keep fightin'. For Ponyville. For mah friends. For Apple Bloom.

She whirled, bucking a dog in the back; it fell with a shrill howl, and continued to scream as the press of battle carried Applejack away. A pink pony reared and trampled it to death, only to have two more dogs fall upon her and maul her. Her shrieks were piercing.

For Apple Bloom.

Somepony crashed into her, driving her off-balance. A dog loomed up out of nowhere, clawed paws spread wide. Applejack had no room to rear or buck, so she stretched her neck out and bit its throat. The dog clawed wildly, inflicting painful gashes on her shoulders and sides, but she tore its throat out. Dog blood filled her mouth, the taste making her gag. She spat, shuddered, spat again.

For Apple Bloom.

The pony to Applejack's left suddenly collapsed, screaming, blood gushing from her neck. Applejack leaped over her thrashing form to strike the dog that had killed her, smashing her forehooves into its face until it lay still.

For Apple Bloom.

---

Rainbow Dash had approached the battle preparations as she approached virtually everything: with breezy confidence. A karate champion, she knew she had nothing to fear from a fight, and the idea of leading a storm of pegasi into battle struck her as perfectly appropriate. She had done her best to give the ponies the benefits of her awesomeness, teaching them a few simple maneuvers they would hopefully remember, and memorizing most of Twilight and Big McIntosh's instructions.

Thoughts of the battle itself had not intruded onto her mind in any serious way. She knew there was going to be a fight, of course, but she found it hard to consider any outcome other than overwhelming victory. After all, Ponyville had her on its side, not to mention Twilight and Applejack. Rainbow was more concerned with thoughts of the victory celebration, as well as wondering whether word of this would reach the Wonderbolts.

This state of mind lasted until the enemy army became visible.

The sea of diamond dogs was certainly intimidating, outnumbering Applejack's earth ponies at least three to one. What sent a chill though Rainbow Dash, however, was the griffins.

Two or three hundred griffins accompanied the dogs, circling lazily in the sky or arrayed on the ground some distance away. Each one was slightly larger than the pegasus ponies, with broad wings, sharp talons, and a hooked beak. Griffins, Dash knew, were nearly as fast as pegasi and physically stronger.

Just like Gilda.

A scowl grew on her face as Rainbow Dash considered the matter. Gilda. She had not thought of her former friend in some time, and the memory was not a pleasant one. The griffin had violated one of the Dash's core beliefs: stand by your friends. Worse, she had assumed Dash would just go along with it. The memory was bitter.

But not so bitter that the thought of killing griffins was any easier to take. Worse, what if Gilda was in that army? Dash's feelings regarding Gilda were confused at best, but she certainly didn't want her dead. Still less did she want to hurt Gilda personally.

What if Gilda was there?

Dash's mood grew darker.

If Gilda had joined the army that had invaded Equestria, that had murdered innocent ponies in cold blood . . . Dash didn't want to consider that.

But she had to.

If Gilda was there . . . then Dash was finally and completely through with her. She could forgive a lot, but there were limits. She had waited and waited for Gilda to get in touch, offer an apology, something. She missed their easy camaraderie.

Dash shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the grim thoughts. Chances were, Gilda was back home in the Talon Peaks and knew nothing about this invasion.

She had to believe that.

Suddenly, trumpets were blaring. Dash recognized the signal to prepare for battle, and turned to face her Company.

“All right ponies,” she called, wishing briefly that her voice was more . . . impressive. “You see those birdbrains out there? They think they can just flap in here and take over. They think we're a bunch of wimps, a bunch of second-stringers who'll fold up at the first gust of wind.

“You know what I think of that?” She glared at the pegasi.

“I don't give a flying feather what they think! I know what we are. We're the pegasi who got the water to Cloudsdale despite being understrength. We're the pegasi who survived Discord and Nightmare Moon. We're the pegasi who are gonna kick some griffin tailfeathers!”

Snorting, Dash spun in place to regard her warriors.

“And why is that? Because we're the best damn pegasi there are! We're fighting for Ponyville!”

Below he, the horns sounded the call to battle.

Rainbow Dash leaped forward, the pegasi of Ponyville around and behind her. “For Ponyville!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, and the cry was taken up by the other pegasi.

“For Ponyville!”

The cloud of ponies rushed forward, rapidly passing the earth ponies below as the griffins rose to meet them. Rainbow Dash focused her attention on a griffin directly before her. Streaking ahead of the flock, she crashed directly into the griffin with both forehooves, knocking him clean out of the sky.

Around her, battle was joined. Dash lashed out, using all four hooves and even her wings, delivering strikes that left griffins reeling or simply dropping from the sky. Battle-fury burned within her, and she felt invincible. Let them come!

A griffin closed with her, claws outstretched to grasp her forelegs. Dash broke the hold with a deft maneuver and tumbled backwards, kicking her attacker as she did so. She caught a brief, dizzying glimpse of the ground, a riotous mass of ponies and dogs.

Pain burned along her legs, and she realized she had been scratched without even knowing it. Pushing the pain aside, Dash leaped back into the battle. She caught an unprepared griffin from behind and bucked him in the wing; the avian creature shrieked and spun away. Turning, Dash saw another griffin engaging a pegasus who was struggling desperately to fend him off. Thought became action as she crashed into the enemy, knocking him clear.

A griffin crashed into her from above, claws digging at her back. Rainbow Dash folded her wings and dropped, but the avian creature was relentless, clawing viciously at her left wing. With a twist, the pegasus threw herself sideways, bringing herself face-to-beak with a gray-feathered, yellow-eyed griffin.

“Later, punk!” she shouted, smashing her hard skull into its beak. The impact dazed them both, but Dash was ready for it, following the strike with a sharp uppercut to the jaw. The griffin tumbled loose and the blue pony forced her wings wide, catching herself in midair, gasping as a bolt of agony shot through her shoulder.

I should get to the healers, she thought, instantly following it with No time. My ponies need me. She flapped hard, gritting her teeth against the pain, fighting for altitude.

Claws closed around her hind legs; she kicked violently, freeing one hoof. The griffin's talons dug into her hock and its sharp beak slashed at her vulnerable underside. Folding her wings, Rainbow Dash let herself fall, wrenching herself free and continuing to drop like a stone. Wings snapped open and she curved back upwards, erupting in the midst of a five-griffin formation. Blood and feathers flew.

---

It's such a . . . mess, Twilight Sparkle thought as she watched the battle unfold. From a vantage point on a nearby hill, she, Big McIntosh, and a handful of others witnessed the Ponyville forces' clash with the dogs and griffins. Spike was there as well, safely on her back. She had tried to keep him away, but he'd made the logical argument that she needed someone to take notes and help keep things organized, and she had let herself be convinced.

Although she had never seen large-scale battle before, she had read about the subject in dozens of history books. But in books, it had always seemed so . . . orderly. Clean. Groups of ponies acted in unison, and though Twilight understood that there had been killing and death, it had seemed remote, objective.

This was nothing like that.

The three companies, Yellow, Green and Black, had thundered down the hillside; not in neat squares like the companies in Twilight's books, but in ragged, multicolored masses. The gray-brown ranks of the diamond dogs were an indistinct mob themselves at this distance, but they seemed no better organized. There were, however, many more of them.

She was too far distant – nearly a mile away – to observe the exact moment when the two forces met, but the sounds that came drifting up from the battlefield were eloquent in their incoherence. Screams, cries, high wailings, shouts of rage; the individual words were worn away by distance, but the meaning came through. Twilight imagined she heard Applejack's drawling voice raised in a battle-cry, but she couldn't be sure.

The two forces did not form a neat line, the way the books had described, but Big McIntosh had warned her that that was unlikely. Instead, the battlefront was wavy and jagged-edged, as knots of dogs and ponies surged back and forth against each other, driving into each others' ranks. Behind the earth ponies – shielded, but not completely out of danger – Silver Gleam's unicorns send bolts of lightning and bursts of telekinetic energy into the mass of dogs. At this distance, it was impossible to say how effective their efforts were.

The ponies watched in grim silence as the battle played out. To Twilight Sparkle it seemed to take hours as she stood there, feeling helpless, watching her friends and neighbors fight and kill and die to protect their town. The other ponies muttered to each other, shifting their weight. McIntosh stood like a statue of brass and brick-red stone, resplendent in his battered armor, nothing moving but his eyes.

Some ponies might have thought Big McIntosh was dull or slow, given his speech pattern and normal expression of placid disinterest. Twilight was not fooled, however. Those half-lidded green eyes saw a lot, and now they were focused on the battle with singular intensity.

The battle dragged on, the warriors of both sides partially obscured by clouds of dust kicked up by hooves and paws. Overhead, griffins and pegasi wheeled and dove and screamed, but the ponies seemed to be holding their own against the physically superior griffins. McIntosh, however, devoted most of his attention to the battle on the ground.

The line of battle surged back and forth as knots of ponies drove into the mass of canines, and were driven back or overrun. Now the dogs gained ground, but a band of ponies surrounding the banner of the Yellow Company broke their momentum and threw them back. Twilight caught a single, brief glimpse, impossibly clear, of an earth pony in a cowboy hat – Applejack! – rearing and pawing the air with her forehooves; then the dust billowed and she was lost to sight.

McIntosh shifted with a clanking of armor, and Twilight started. She glanced at the position of the sun – the battle had been going on for nearly an hour, by her rough estimate. Spike was leaning against her neck, half-dozing. She envied him.

“Time to pull out,” McIntosh said briefly. Twilight squinted towards the battle, wondering what he had seen that she hadn't.

The big earth pony pointed with a massive hoof, away beyond the line of conflict. “Reserves,” he said simply.

As McIntosh stamped away to where the Crimson and Russet companies stood waiting, Twilight stared in disbelief. She saw more dogs hurrying around that weird bank of mist, jogging toward the battle in rough companies. She has reserves? she thought in horror, immediately realizing that she should have expected something like this. Of course she has reserves, you idiot! And now we're even more outnumbered. Celestia save us, the earth ponies have got to get out of there!

She turned to the unicorn trumpeter. “Sound the retreat!” she ordered frantically, waking Spike with a jolt. As the peals of the trumpet echoed over the countryside, Twilight turned her attention back to the battle. The ponies and dogs were closely engaged; the Ponyville forces couldn't simply withdraw without offering the dogs a chance to maul them, which would turn an orderly retreat into a bloody rout.

And more dogs were coming.

With a sudden shout and a dull rumble, Crimson and Russet companies began to move, at a trot, then a canter, lengthening to a full gallop. The earth ponies hurtled down toward the fray, inevitable as an avalanche, with the massive form of McIntosh at their head. As they dwindled in the distance, Twilight found herself tense, mentally urging them to greater speed, praying to Celestia that they would reach the battle before the dog reinforcements did.

---

Fluttershy knew she was useless in a war. Despite what her friends kept insisting she knew she was a coward, and the mere thought of fighting griffins like that meany Gilda, or those huge, scary diamond dogs, just made her legs tremble. She envied (even though she didn't quite understand) brave ponies like Applejack and Rainbow Dash, who could march off to fight for their lives – for everyponys' lives – with confident smiles on their faces.

She wanted to help, somehow, but she couldn't think of anything useful to do. She couldn't fight, she didn't have Pinkie Pie's mad genius, she didn't have Rarity's resources or skills, and she certainly wasn't as smart or organized as Twilight. She could communicate with animals, but the thought of asking her beloved animal friends to fight and maybe even (eep!) die almost made her physically ill.

She didn't want to hurt anyone, pony or non-pony. She just wanted to help.

Fortunately, she wasn't the only pony with that thought. The town's doctors and nurses were organizing a team of healers, and Fluttershy jumped at the invitation. Here was a way she could help, by healing instead of hurting! True, she was most skilled at tending animals, but the nurses said that wouldn't be a problem; ponies and animals weren't that different. Besides, they were accepting anypony who knew how to tie a bandage. The spa ponies, Aloe and Lotus, had already volunteered their expertise, as had a dozen others who wanted to help but couldn't, or wouldn't, fight.

The night had passed in something of a blur for Fluttershy. She found herself teaching ponies some basic first-aid; later, the nurses put her and several other pegasi to work ferrying supplies from the town hospital to several wagons on the eastern edge of Ponyville. These were to be mobile hospitals, to help the ponies that got hurt in battle. Even though she was a fairly weak flier, Fluttershy's wings were still faster than cantering through the crowded, busy streets, and she spent hours hauling loads of bandages, medicines, and other medical supplies.

The next morning had seemed like a bizarre dream, as hundreds of earth ponies – many wearing the gem-studded vests Rarity had made – marched away from Ponyville with Applejack's brother Big McIntosh at their head. Fluttershy had always found McIntosh a little intimidating, even though she knew he was gentle; seeing him dressed in armor, with that red-crested helmet . . . he had seemed almost scary. But the most frightening thing was his expression. Instead of his usual calm demeanor, McIntosh looked fierce. He looked angry. He looks like he wants to hurt somepony, Fluttershy had thought.

So Fluttershy, the nurses, the spa ponies, and the other healers headed out with the army, along with a few others drawing wagons loaded with medical supplies – and empty wagons to ferry home the wounded. At first it was profoundly dull, for which the pegasus was endlessly grateful. It seemed to take hours for the warrior-ponies to assemble on the hilltop, under the watchful eyes of Twilight, McIntosh, Oak Hoof, Steady Gait, and the other leaders. Fluttershy tried not to look at the army of dogs some distance away, but she couldn't help stealing peeks now and then. Each time, she shuddered. There were so many of them!

All too soon the battle had begun. Fluttershy couldn't bring herself to watch it, but she had no way to block out the sounds: the dull rumble, the cracks and booms of unicorn magic, the screeches and war-cries made quiet by distance; and worst of all, the faint wails and screams. Ponies were being hurt, maybe even dying.

And I can't help them.

The pegasus covered her eyes with her hooves.

Ponies are hurt now. By the time we go down there to help them, some may be dead. Some I could have saved.

Abruptly, Fluttershy got to her hooves and slipped on her saddlebags. The other healers paid no attention; they were either watching the battle intently or exchanging muttered words. Fluttershy slipped away from the healers' wagons, taking an indirect course around the earth pony soldiers, the various support ponies. She stayed well clear of Twilight and Big McIntosh and anypony else who knew her well and might guess her intentions. Other ponies might have drawn attention, but nopony even seemed to notice her as she crept clear of the encampment.

Flying low to the ground in a wide arc, she made her way to the outskirts of the battlefield. As she drew nearer the sounds of combat became louder and more distinct; she could make out individual voices, cries of pain or fury, shouted commands. She flinched, ears down, but kept going. have to help!

All too soon she began encountering fallen combatants. Most of them were ponies, although there were a few scattered griffins and diamond dogs as well. The first injured pony she encountered was a pegasus, one wing broken, trying futilely to drag herself to her hooves.

“Stop,” said Fluttershy, landing besides the orange mare. “Let me help with that.”

“Griffin . . .” the blue-haired mare grunted. “Caught my wing . . .”

“Just lie still,” Fluttershy said soothingly, pulling bandages and splints from her saddlebags. She jumped at a particularly loud noise from the battlefield – a burst of magic from one of the unicorn companies – then devoted her attention to her patient. The break was a clean one, and the yellow pony quickly and efficiently set it – drawing only a pained grunt from the other – and bound it between two splints.

“Can you make it back now?” she asked, pointing to the hillside encampment. “I'd help you, but there are other injured ponies down here . . .”

The orange pegasus gave her a tight smile. “I'll make it, miss. And thanks.” Turning, she began plodding towards safety.

Fluttershy moved on, her fear for herself forgotten in the larger fear for her patients. She moved from pony to pony, checking them with brisk efficiency. Some were cold and lifeless, and these she passed by quickly, fighting back tears. I have to help those who are still alive, she told herself firmly. If I stop to cry for everypony who's already . . . gone, I won't be able to help anypony. Nevertheless, tears trickled down her muzzle every time she touched a pony and found that she was too late.

She had ministered to half a dozen more ponies, binding their wounds and shoving them toward safety, when she found a griffin. Hesitantly, she touched the eagle-headed creature, feeling for a pulse.

Nothing.

She moved on, half-relieved and half-disappointed. The griffins were the enemy, but she was not sure she could make herself simply leave one that was injured and in need of help. The few diamond dogs she had encountered were already dead, being well past the earth pony lines, but the griffins and pegasi were more widely scattered. Their aerial battle paid no attention to the clashing dogs and earth ponies, and a pegasus or griffin unable to fly was as likely to come down on the enemy's side as behind their own lines.

Several minutes later, she encountered a dilemma.

The griffin was smaller than the others she had seen, scarcely larger than a pony, with blood-caked rusty-red feathers on the front half of its body. It was lying on its side, eyes closed, ribs rising and falling. Its body was battered and one of its eagle-like forelegs was bent at an agonizing angle.

Fluttershy stared at the creature for a long moment. I should leave it, she told herself. Rainbow Dash would. Applejack would. Twilight would. It's an enemy. I should just walk away and find a pony to help.

She braced herself, closing her eyes.

It would probably kill me if it had the chance. It's probably already killed other ponies.

The griffin stirred, emitting a pained whimper, then lay still.

Without further hesitation, Fluttershy began examining her patient. The blood came from a series of hoof-wounds on its head and neck: painful, but not life-threatening. The wings were intact, and she suspected that the griffin's side would be a mass of bruises, but nothing it couldn't survive. The worst damage was to the foreleg: a messy compound fracture.

Fluttershy focused on the injured limb with single-minded intensity, straightening the bones with the gentlest touch she could manage. Each time she fit the broken ends together, the griffin's body twitched with pain, but the pegasus held the leg firmly. Eventually, she got the bone straightened out and the leg splinted, and wrapped the whole up with a length of bandage.

She looked up, to find the griffin gazing back at her.

"Eep!” Fluttershy hopped back in surprise. The griffin rolled onto his stomach and got slowly to his feet, careful to keep his weight off the broken leg. A hiss of pain escaped his beak, but he steadied himself with his wings, then turned to stare at Fluttershy.

She stared back, then gestured towards the battle-lines. “Um . . . can you fly? Because if you can, I really think you should be going. It's not very safe here at all.”

The griffin glanced towards the ongoing battle, then back to the yellow pegasus. He bobbed his head once, then spread his wings and lifted awkwardly off the ground.

Fluttershy turned her attention to the next patient.

---

The anticipation of the fight had about driven him crazy, but when the battle was joined, Oak Hoof found that he had no time to be scared. He was too busy fighting for his life, trying desperately to remember the plans he had gone over with Ambrosia, Steady Gait, Applejack, McIntosh and Twilight Sparkle. It was no use; all he could do was try to survive, try to kill dogs, try to protect those ponies nearest to him.

Ponies fought and died. Dogs howled in rage or pain or victory. Griffins and pegasi swooped and dove and occasionally crashed down among the ground-bound fighters. Oak Hoof lashed out with his hooves, killing, crippling, or often just missing diamond dogs. Around him, the warriors of the Black Company – farmers, carpenters, salesponies, fathers and mothers – did likewise, fighting to defend their homes and their families.

Blood flowed. Ponies went down, slashed or bitten, screaming in pain or rage, or horribly still. Dogs fell, their blood mingling with that of the ponies. And somehow, despite their scanty training, the earth ponies were holding together as a unit.

A griffin plunged down with a screech, clawing madly. Oak Hoof ducked his head as talons raked his back and shoulders, cutting through the heavy vest Rarity had made for him. Blood soaked the fabric as Oak reared, slamming his skull into the griffin's chest. The griffin flopped awkwardly to the side, and Oak reared and trampled, hooves snapping the creature's delicate bones.

He stood still, panting, blood dripping from the sodden mass of his vest. By some quirk of fate he found himself in a spot of relative calm, and he took a moment to survey the battlefield. Ponies and dogs struggled back and forth, leaving the dead and dying everywhere like discarded toys. The earth ponies were giving a good account of themselves, Oak thought, but then, the dogs could afford the losses far better. For every dog they killed, two or three more seemed to spring up from nowhere, while the Ponyville ranks dwindled steadily. Earth ponies were tough, and the Ponyville farmers were tougher than most, but they were still mortal.

They still died.

As if to drive the point home, the earth pony heard trumpets blowing from the west; after a moment, he recognized the call: retreat. He glanced about, clear for the moment but unwilling to abandon the Black company. Ahead, the fighting was intensifying as the ponies tried to fall back and the dogs pressed their advantage.

And beyond that . . .

More dogs. Hundreds more, jogging towards them in rough formation.

Oak Hoof cursed viciously and galloped forward, towards the line of battle. If those reinforcements closed with the ponies, they were doomed. Teeth bared, Oak reached the battle line and plunged back in. “Fall back!” he shouted, pushing his way forward, lashing out at dogs and grounded griffins. “Grab the wounded and fall back! Take it slow; don't panic, but move!”

It was utter chaos. Some ponies tried to heed his words, stepping back carefully. Others ignored him, or perhaps never heard, pressing forward into the dogs, eyes wild. He saw a few given in to panic, running wildly about and lashing out at anyone who came too near, friend or foe.

And he saw far, far too many equine shapes lying on the ground, blood-spattered, some groaning with pain, others frighteningly still. With a catch in his throat he recognized Mr Breezy, with whom he had shared many a pint of cider, blood pooled around his throat; and Cosmic lying some distance away, bone visible through the blood on his yellow-brown side.

A mare to Oak Hoof's left screamed and went down as two dogs mauled her with their claws. Oak Hoof turned to face them, and the creatures bared their yellowed teeth and came at him. The first missed as the earth pony leaped to meet him, but the second's claws scored a line of fire along Oak's left flank.

Miraculously, the dog's claws tangled in the shredded remains of the vest. The dog tried to yank itself free, and Oak's forehooves missed the other dog by a hairsbreadth.

Out of nowhere, a charcoal stallion – little more than a colt – crashed into the leftmost dog; both of them went down in a tangle of limbs. Taking advantage of the distraction, Oak Hoof closed with the other dog, battering with his hooves as the canine's claws raked at his neck. The fight was short but brutal as equine hooves crushed ribs and brought the dog down.

With a chorus of defiant cries and a sudden rumble of hooves on soil, more earth ponies appeared, crashing through the melee with Big McIntosh at their head. The huge earth pony stallion, appearing even more massive in his armor and crested helmet, simply bowled over any dogs he encountered. The ponies of the Crimson Company thundered by, crashing headlong into the reeling canine ranks and buying precious breathing space for the beleaguered Black Company.

Blood streaming freely now, Oak Hoof turned to help the charcoal colt, only to find that he was too late. The dog was dead, but the colt's throat had been torn out, and blood was everywhere. Gritting his teeth, the older pony turned again to the matter at hoof. They had to fall back; they had to!

“Fall back!” he roared at the top of his lungs. “Get out of here while you can! Can't you hear the trumpets?” Rearing once more, he surveyed the area, trying to get a feel for the battle.

The Crimson Company had turned and was charging in a great arc, cutting through the ranks of the diamond dogs, separating them from the battered ponies of the Black, Green and Yellow Companies. It was a breathtaking maneuver, and it was only possible because of McIntosh's raw strength and size. The apple farmer-cum-soldier had placed the largest and strongest of the ponies beside him in a wedge of muscle, and they were carving though the dogs with sheer momentum.

But already the Crimsons were slowing down, faltering under the endless dogs and the frenzied attacks. The other companies would have to act quickly to seize this opportunity. Oak Hoof glanced wildly about, trying to find the Black standard, to rally the troops.

Something struck his side with punishing force, knocking him sideways. He teetered on two hooves, then collapsed as all the strength went out of him. For endless seconds he was conscious only of the sense of impact. The world was all wrong somehow; it was sideways, and his head was resting on dirt where there should be sky.

Then the pain hit him. He opened his mouth but couldn't even scream, and realization trickled through his mind: a dog had got him, ripped his side open with those claws. He tried to sit up, tried to raise his head, but the agony brought with it weakness, and a strange, light-headed numbness. He was vaguely away that he should feel worse, that something was badly wrong, but it was hard to think. And then there was cold, seeping through him, pushing the pain away.

Oak Hoof laid his head on the ground and let the cold take him.

---

Soaring high above the fracas, Rainbow Dash surveyed the battlefield. Things looked bad for Ponyville's defenders; even without the addition of the fresh dogs, they were badly outnumbered, and McIntosh's hasty training had barely been enough to get the collection of civilians to work in any coordinated matter. The battle line was a confused mass of ponies and dogs, ragged and saw-toothed.

As she watched, two more masses of ponies entered the battle: the Crimson and Russet Companies, with a massive, armored pony at their head. Leading the charge, McIntosh crashed into and through the first ranks of the dogs, cutting them away from the other ponies like paring the skin from an apple. The battle intensified as the battered ponies began to fall back; as the fresh companies curved, scything through the canine ranks; as the dogs' reserves redoubled their efforts to reach the front lines.

It wasn't going to be enough. McIntosh's maneuver had bought the Ponyville defenders some breathing space, but their reactions were too slow; they were burdened by wounded and lack of training. If they simply turned and ran they would leave themselves exposed to the dogs' attacks. It would turn a measured retreat into a bloody rout, and possibly cripple the Ponyvillians entirely.

She had to do something. She had to help. But what could one pony, however awesome, do?

And then it hit her.

Never one to delay action for thought, Dash turned skyward and soared, dodging the occasional griffin or pegasus, focusing on gaining altitude. Coming uncomfortably close to the eerie cloud-cover she leveled off, regarding the ground far below. At this height the battle was a complete mess, distinguishable only by the contrast of the brightly-colored ponies against the grays and browns of the dogs.

Choosing her target carefully, Dash dove. Legs stretched out before and behind her, she beat her wings furiously, speeding faster and faster. The wind whistled through her mane, the pressure drawing tears from her eyes as she forced herself to fly still faster. The world around her blurred, until nothing seemed to be real but the spot of ground she had chosen as her target.

She strained, wings buzzing, wind scouring her body, the pain of her wounded wing a constant throb. Almost . . . She could feel it, almost touch it with her outstretched hooves. I've done it before . . . I can do it now . . . my friends need me . . .

Less than a hundred feet from the ground, she reached it. With a ripple, she felt herself breaking the sound barrier. She canted her wings hard, allowing her momentum to slingshot herself back upwards at a steep angle.

With a deafening burst of sound and an eruption of multicolored light, the sonic rainboom rolled outward, an expanding ring of terrible glory. Dash spread he wings, riding the shockwave, letting it carry her higher. A fierce exultation filled her heart: I did it! Spiraling higher, she gazed down to see the effects.

The rainboom rolled over the battlefield, diminishing now, but still carrying tremendous energy. Where it passed, diamond dogs were flung off their feet, to lie dizzy and disoriented. The earth ponies, by nature sturdier than the dogs, hunkered down and weathered the rainbow blast as if it were a windstorm.

The earth ponies companies were seizing the opportunity to regroup, falling back from the line of dogs, dragging their wounded with them. A glance showed Dash that it would not be enough; the fresh dogs were nearing the front line. The ponies weren't going to be able to get away in time.

Not if I can help it!

Flying furiously, ignoring the burn of her overtaxed wing muscles and the pain of her wounds, Dash spiraled upwards once more. She paused again just below the cloud, carefully chose her target area, and dove.

If the first dive had been difficult, this was ten times as hard. Her wings and shoulders throbbed; her ears ached with the wind; her eyes burned. Dash pushed all this aside, gritting her teeth and beating her wings faster and faster. Again she strained, extending her body, trying to make herself travel faster through sheer force of will. Each wing-beat took a conscious effort; each incremental increase in speed cost her dear in pain and fatigue.

Almost . . . I can do this . . .

The ground rushed up at her, dizzying. Griffins screeched as the blue pegasus flashed by, moving far to quickly for them to interfere. A primary feather tore loose and shot away in the gale; Dash registered the pain as if from a great distance.

Ponyville . . . needs . . . me . . .

A second time, thunder and glory exploded over the battlefield. Exhausted, Dash forced her wings wide, wobbling slightly due to her missing feather, coasting upwards once more. The multicolored shockwave caught her and threw her higher, forcing her to pay close attention or risk losing control and falling.

She looked down.

The earth ponies had regrouped, her own rainbooms and McIntosh's berserker charge having bought them precious time. Most of the nearest dogs were lying on the ground, stunned, or crawling away dispiritedly.

A crackle of turquoise caught her eye, away to the east. There stood Fallax Equa, the blue-black nightmare, eerie light playing about her horn and lashing out at the nearest companies of diamond dogs. The dogs, cowed, were charging towards the ponies as fast as their short legs could carry them, more frightened of their outraged leader than of the repeated rainbow explosions.

Oh, horse apples . . .

The earth ponies were retreating in good order. In another few minutes they would be clear, but they might not have another few minutes. The panic-stricken dogs were charging straight for the mass of ponies, close to negating everything Dash and McIntosh had just accomplished. And for the ponies, tired, injured, and badly outnumbered, there would be no second reprieve.

Spiraling higher, every wingbeat sending a spear of pain through her shoulders, her eyes burning, her breath like sand in her throat, Rainbow Dash allowed herself a brief moment of self-pity.

And dove again.

---

With a shriek of triumph, Gilda tore a clawful of feathers from the yellow pegasus's wings as the pony wrenched loose and coasted away. Gilda let her go, uninterested in killing the dweeb. The griffin flapped her great wings, gaining altitude, and surveyed the battlefield.

The pegasus ponies were putting up a fiercer defense than the griffins had anticipated, their speed and agility rendering them a match for the slower, stronger Red Feathers. Their hard hooves and strong teeth, while not the equal of a griffin's beak and claws, were capable of inflicting devastating wounds when backed by the full weight of a diving pony.

The weight of numbers was beginning to tell, however, and after some furious fighting the ponies were being pushed steadily westward. They were persistent, slipping free of the griffins time and again to strike from a new angle, but the Red Feathers were the finest warriors of Eyrie, and they refused to be beaten. Bodies dropped from the sky, but more and more of those bodies were equine.

Gilda eyed the ground battle. While the griffins and pegasi were fairly evenly matched in terms of skill, the same could not be said of the diamond dogs and the earth ponies. Gilda had never had much use for the ground-bound ponies, but the dogs impressed her even less. Filthy, quarrelsome, undisciplined rabble; only their enormous advantage in terms of numbers – and the ponies' lack of training – was enabling them to win the day.

She eyed the battle lines disinterestedly, eager for it to be over. The battle had ceased to entertain her, and now she just wanted –

A flash of rainbow light blinded her, followed a heartbeat later by an echoing clap of thunder. Gilda reeled in midair, flapping her wings frantically as she blinked stars from her eyes. Seconds later, as her vision cleared, a wall of rainbow light and sound rolled across her position, the shockwave buffeting her. She clawed at the air, riding the wave, seeking the relative safety of the upper airs.

As she recovered her equilibrium, Gilda saw an expanding ring of rainbow light rippling across the battlefield, and knew it could be only one thing: the legendary sonic rainboom. She did it! she thought, beak agape. Rainbow Dash. She's the only one who could possibly have done such a thing.

And, Gilda had to admit, it was pretty awesome.

Far below, the diamond dogs staggered under the force of the pegasus-generated gale, while the sturdier earth ponies retreated, step by careful step. A quick glance showed Gilda that it wouldn't be enough to save them, but it had still been a remarkable feat. A thought occurred to her, and she scanned the sky for a certain blue pegasus. Breaking the sound barrier had to have exacted a toll on Dash; with luck Gilda could capture her and keep her safe for the rest of the battle. With her best effort in vain, Dash would have to admit that –

A second sonic rainboom exploded into being.

This time Gilda saw it coming in time to ride the shockwave instead of being flung wildly about by it. Where did that come from? she thought wildly. Not even Dash could perform two sonic rainbooms that fast, could she? But if not Dash, then who?

Tracing upwards from the detonation point, Gilda's keen eyes spotted a small blue pegasus, trailing rainbow as she climbed higher and higher. It was Dash! Somehow, she had pulled off the impossible again. How? And why was she wasting such spectacular efforts on a bunch of ground-crawling dweebs? Surely, even Dash had to realize that it was a waste of time; even two rainbooms weren't going to save the earth ponies.

Gilda spiraled higher, angling towards Dash. Maybe she could talk to her, admit how awesome that had been. Maybe Dash would see reason. It was worth a shot; after all, Dash had to be completely exhausted after . . .

Reaching the peak of her climb, the blue pegasus circled once, then dove again.

Gilda goggled. It wasn't possible! That idiotic pony couldn't seriously be trying for another rainboom! Even from this distance she could see the weakness of Dash's wingbeat, the wobble in her glide. She was going to kill herself. Couldn't she understand that those earth ponies weren't worth it?

Dash streaked towards the ground, trailing rainbow, flying faster and faster. She's going to kill herself, Gilda thought stupidly. She's going to kill herself. There's no way she can stop herself in time; she's just going to crash into the ground.

Dash's form blurred with the speed, her legs stretched out ahead and behind, her wings invisible. Gilda wanted to turn away, did not want to witness her friend's gruesome death, but she was paralyzed with shock and disbelief.

Scant yards above the advancing mass of dogs, beyond all possibility, Rainbow Dash veered skyward in a flurry of blue feathers.

And below her, a third sonic rainboom erupted into being.

Dogs tumbled. Earth ponies galloped westwards, free and making the most of it. Griffins and pegasi, battered by the wind and repeated, concussive shockwaves, broke away from each other and concentrated on maintaining stability. And Gilda hovered, stunned.

Dash soared, borne upwards by the shockwave, wings barely moving. She slowed, appearing to be floating, and Gilda saw that her wings were stiff and ragged, half the feathers blown away. Her legs dangled uselessly; her mane and tail fluttered in the wind.

Then, like an autumn leaf, Dash fell.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

Gilda threw herself into a steep dive, wings pumping furiously. Dash needed her. The pegasus was limp, unconscious, and only her poor, tattered wings – locked in an outstretched position – slowed her descent even slightly.

Wind screamed through Gilda's feathers as she dove, forcing herself faster and faster, tail streaming out behind her. The battle, Fallax Equa, the impossibility of what she had just witnessed: all faded from her mind.

Dash needed her.

She was gaining rapidly, but the exhausted pegasus was still falling. It was going to be close. If Gilda could reach her in time – get a claw on her trailing tail –

Her keen flier's instincts warned her that she was approaching a point beyond which she might nor safely recover. To dive too close to the ground, at such great speed, was to invite injury in the form of wrenched wings and strained muscles at the very least.

Gilda flashed past that point without slowing in the slightest.

Dash needed her.

Wings beating like a hurricane, the griffin extended a foreclaw and snagged a hank of rainbow tail. Got you! she thought triumphantly, and with a jerk she yanked Dash's limp form into her arms. Grasping the pegasus with both foreclaws, she spread her wings as wide as she could, trying desperately to break their plunge.

The wind howled, and Gilda uttered a shriek of pain as one of her wings snapped in that inexorable force. Tears filling her eyes, she fought to hold her unbroken wing straight, spiraling wildly, bleeding off speed. The ground rushed up at her, and she knew it was hopeless. Cradling the unconscious pegasus against her body, Gilda wrapped herself around her friend as best she could.

Sorry, Dash.

They struck the earth together.

---

Her saddlebags were almost empty of supplies, but Fluttershy couldn't make herself stop searching for wounded. As the line of battle had surged back and forth she had found herself ranging farther afield, seeking out fallen pegasi – and the occasional griffin – that were in need of her help. She was dimly aware of the larger events of the battle – the sonic rainbooms, and the charge of the Crimson and Russet Companies – but she refused to allow them to intrude onto her consciousness.

She had a task to perform, and she was not going to be swayed.

Ahead, she saw a griffin lying in a crumpled heap, wrapped around something blue. A closer look revealed it to be a pony, a blue pegasus with a rainbow tail –

Fluttershy was pulling the griffin's legs away with no conscious awareness of having crossed the intervening distance. A glance showed her that the poor thing was dead, both wings shattered, its head at a bizarre angle. The pony, however – Rainbow Dash – might still be alive. Scarcely daring to breathe, Fluttershy laid a gentle hoof against Dash's neck and felt for a pulse.

It was there, weak but definite: Dash was still alive. Fluttershy let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. I can't cry, she told herself sternly. I have to help Dashie. I can cry later.

The griffin was holding Dash in its four legs, almost wrapped around her. Fluttershy guessed that they must have been fighting, but it looked as if the griffin had been trying to protect Dash. Certainly, if the griffin had not borne the brunt of the impact, Dash could never have survived.

“Whoever you are,” Fluttershy said softly as she carefully straightened the griffin's legs, “thank you for saving my friend.”

Cautiously, she slid Dash free from the griffin's embrace, wincing as her friend's wings came into view. Dash's body was bruised and scratched, but her wings . . . half the feathers were gone, and the flesh between was raw and swollen. The muscles of her back were blue-black and inflamed from overexertion, and a large, bloody gash disfigured one. Fluttershy had tended many injured birds, and she was not at all sure whether Rainbow would ever be able to fly again.

A sound from behind made her turn: a heavy footstep, followed by a wheezing gasp. Lumbering towards her, having crawled up from Celestia knew where, was one of the diamond dogs. The creature was huge, twice as tall as Fluttershy could make herself even by rearing up. Its face was half-covered with blood and it walked with a limp, but this only made it more terrifying to the yellow pegasus. Bloodshot eyes fixed on her, and it raised bloody claws.

Fluttershy froze, too frightened to even squeak, her wings clamped tightly to her sides. The dog's mouth sagged in a feral grin as it advanced, realizing that she was no warrior. Oh no! Fluttershy thought frantically. Somepony, help me! Applejack, Twilight, Rainbow Dash –

Rainbow Dash.

Fluttershy threw herself between the dog and her unconscious friend. “Stay away from her!” she shrilled. The dog paused, looking perplexed.

“I mean it!” Fluttershy insisted at the top of her small voice. “Don't you hurt her! Don't you dare!”

The dog grunted, then took another step. Fluttershy braced herself, knowing the creature could squash her easily with one blow of its massive paw. But if I move, it'll get Dash!

She held firm, glaring at the dog. It took another step, bringing her almost in reach of its long arms. Fluttershy spread her wings defiantly. This is going to hurt, she thought. But maybe . . . maybe it'll stop with me? Dash isn't even moving; maybe it won't bother her?

The dog reared back, preparing to crush or slash this strangely obstinate little pony. Fluttershy gritted her teeth, unable to look away.

She had an excellent view as a griffin, with a screech of fury, crashed headlong into the dog from one side.

She stared in disbelief as griffin and dog went tumbling across the ground, snarling and yelping and screeching. Already wounded, the dog found itself badly outmatched despite its larger size. In seconds its attacks turned to frantic attempts to escape, but it was too late. The griffin tore into it in a savage rush, and the dog gave a strangled yelp and lay still.

Blinking, Fluttershy suddenly became aware that she was not alone: three other griffins had landed a few yards away. Strangely, they were ignoring the one-sided battle and watching her instead with intense, predatory gazes. One, she noticed absently, had a bundle of cloth and sticks strapped to its back.

“No!” she shrieked, causing the griffins to jerk away from the sound. “You're not going to hurt her either!” Fluttershy placed herself directly between Dash and the griffins, wings spread, hooves wide apart.

The griffins regarded the panting, wild-eyed pegasus with something between shock and amusement. One, who seemed to be the leader, nodded briefly to the others, then turned back to Fluttershy and took a step forward.

“Healer,” he said in a surprisingly gentle tone of voice, “you have nothing to fear from the Red Feathers.”

Fluttershy blinked, surprised, but did not change her posture.

“And neither does your valiant friend,” the griffin continued. “Rarely have we seen such courage. The Princess gave her life to save your friend, and we honor that.”

The griffin with the bundle on its back was busily undoing it, producing several long, straight sticks and some sheets of cloth. The one that had killed the dog was strolling casually back, and the other two moved closer to Fluttershy and Dash.

“You're not going to hurt her?” Fluttershy said, half-disbelieving. “Even though you were fighting?”

“Had we met in the sky, things would have gone differently,” said a second griffin, this one with reddish-brown crest-feathers. “But here? No.” He cocked his head to one side, staring at Fluttershy out of one piercing, yellow eyes. “And we honor courage, even in unlikely places.”

Fluttershy shivered, watching carefully but not interfering as the griffins collected their princess's body. They laid it on a stretcher, made from the sticks and cloth the fourth griffin had been carrying, and two of the griffins took the stretcher's ends and lifted off with a furious flapping of wings. The remaining two, the leader and his red-crested companion, regarded Fluttershy in silence.

“Um . . .” the yellow pony said hesitantly, noticing that the griffins had assembled two stretchers, and that one was still lying nearby. “If you don't mind . . . if you don't need that stretcher . . . could I use it? I promise to bring it back, but I really need to get my friend back to safety. And you did say you wouldn't hurt her.”

The griffins exchanged a glance, then carried the stretcher over and laid it beside Rainbow Dash. Working quickly but gently, they lifted the unconscious pegasus onto the stretcher and lashed a few straps over her to keep her secure. As Fluttershy moved forward, intending to take one end of the litter and drag Dash homeward, the griffins positioned themselves at either end of the stretcher and grasped the sticks in their foreclaws.

“If you will grant us safe passage, healer,” said the lead griffin, “it will be our honor to convey this warrior back to her people.”

“You – you will? You'll help me get her back! Oh, thank you!” squeaked Fluttershy excitedly. “Of course you'll be safe! Just follow me; I'll make sure everypony knows that you're helping. Thank you; thank you!”

Still chattering gratefully, she lifted off and made for Twilight and the army, with two griffins ferrying Rainbow Dash behind her.

Comments

[Tay the Chemist]

This story really deserves more than 9 likes.

[Deep Pond]

1316313 Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it.