Easy as Pie

by bahatumay

Chapter 2

Tempest walked through the forest. She knew of places like this, spoken of in whispers by the other ponies. Strange places where the weather handled itself without a pegasus to guide it, where the plants grew without the help of an earth pony to tend them, where animals fended for themselves.

Or, as Tempest liked to call it, how literally the entire rest of the world worked.

So it was with casual indifference to the forest that she walked. The cart rolled behind her, moving surprisingly smoothly for being a wooden cart. She almost wished it didn’t, so she could get more of a workout in, but she decided against breaking one of the wheels, since she needed to deliver these pies in one piece.

But other than that, it wasn’t so bad. It was good to get some time to herself.

“Hoo.”

Well, mostly herself. She turned to glare at the owl. “You can fly back,” she offered, pointing back towards Ponyville.

“Hoo.”

“Y- No. We’re not doing that.” She started walking faster.

But of course, an owl can fly faster than a pony pulling a cart can walk, so when she looked up again, he was there, watching from a tree limb ahead of her, and high out of reach. Tempest glared in his direction and kept walking steadily. She would not let the owl get to her.

---

Tempest glowered. The owl was getting to her. She’d made it past the forest and into the swamp, but her teeth grinded against each other.
He sat on the top of the cart, clearly pleased with himself, sitting up there, riding like he was king of this stupid swamp, like he deserved it.

Finally, she stopped and turned to face him. “Why are you like this?”

“Hoo.”

“Did Twilight put you up to this?”

“Hoo.”

“Hoo,” Tempest retorted, frustrated.

“Hoo.”

“Hoo!”

“Hoo.”

Tempest’s horn sparked again. “Hoo yourself, you-!”

A burst of fire startled them. Both looked over at the spot that had exploded, still smoking. It occurred to Tempest that keeping still was just asking for the pies (and possibly her) to be delivered extra crispy. “We should keep moving.”

“Hoo,” he agreed.

“Don’t.”

---

Tempest slowed slightly. Something seemed… off, somehow. What was it? Was it too quiet? Her ears swiveled, but she didn’t notice anything immediately. But somehow the swamp seemed… darker? Foggier?

She glanced at the owl. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this?”

“Hoo,” he responded.

Assuming that was a ‘no’, she kept walking. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you.”

“Hoo.”

“You’ve been nothing but a pain in my flank this whole time.”

“Hoo.”

She knew she was talking more, and worse, she knew why. For some reason, she was feeling vaguely unsettled. She knew she was able to hold her own in a fight, with anything this swamp could throw at her. The fire flare-ups were easy to hear, so they were also easy to avoid.

So why was she feeling so uncomfortable?

Her eyes flicked up to her broken horn. What magic did she not have access to? She couldn’t cast any scanning spells. She couldn’t even do a basic lighting spell.

She supposed she could blow up a tree, but that would really draw the attention of everything in here.

Maybe it was just too quiet?

She turned her attention back to the owl. “Why did you come, anyway?”

“Hoo.”

“Do you have owl friends that live out here?”

“Hoo.”

“Do you have many friends? Maybe a bunch of owl friends. What’s a group of owls? A flock? A court?”

“Hoo.”

“Yeah. You can just sit there going ‘hoo, hoo’ at each other, like it means something.”

“Hoooo.”

That wasn’t his normal hooting.

Tempest glanced over her shoulder, and he was looking over into the fog. She stopped and turned, ears pricked, keenly aware that the owl had better vision than she.

A hulking shadow formed. One, then two, then three pairs of eyes shone in the low light.

“What have we here?” a low voice asked as they… no, she stepped into view. The tiger head leered at her through the smoke.

“You’re not like the other ponies we’ve seen with the cart,” the goat head said.

“And you look quite unprepared to deal with us,” the snake tail added.

“Stay where you are,” the tiger head said. “I prefer my meals… fresh.”

A little smile flickered across Tempest’s face. “I don’t know what kind of story you think you’re in,” she said as she slipped out of the harness, “but let me tell you, I am not like any of the other little ponies you’ve seen.” A little smile spread across her face. “I’ve got more of a… kick to me.”

---

Tempest leaned against the cart, snacking on the candied almonds Applejack had packed for her. They crunched pleasingly between her teeth. That had made her feel better. Being able to stretch her legs like that had been good.

Owlowiscious looked down from atop the cart. “Hoo.”

Tempest scoffed. “I’m fine,” she said. She glanced at her shoulder and wiped it off. “None of that’s mine.”

“Hoo.”

Tempest looked over the top of the almond at him. “Don’t look at me like that. They were going to eat me. And you.”

“Hoo.”

“Oh yes, they would have.” Her eyes narrowed. “Am I understanding you?”

“Hoo,” he said with an owlly shrug.

Tempest rolled her eyes and selected another almond.

“Hoo.”

“Like I said,” Tempest said, looking a little more intensely at the bag than she probably needed to, “I’m not like other ponies.”

“Hoo?”

“When I got this,” she said, gesturing at her scar and broken horn.

“Hoo,” he invited.

“No. I’m not telling that story.”

“Hoo.”

“It’s not important,” she said, crunching the next almond louder than necessary.

“Hoo,” he floated.

She popped the rest of the almonds into her mouth. “We should keep moving,” she said with her mouth full. She ducked back into the harness and a tiny part of her hoped he would remain behind.

But of course, she saw him flying overhead. She grunted and kept walking.

---

Tempest checked the map again. It looked like she was in the right place. She could see the mountain, and the bridge she needed to cross, but she wasn’t sure how to get up there. She certainly couldn’t pull the cart up the sheer rock face. It was a little windy, but at least there wasn’t snow on the ground. “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” she grumbled.

“Hoo.”

She turned to see Owlowiscious perched on a post, old and overgrown with moss. It took her a second to realize it wasn’t a dead tree, and then another to see the rope behind it. It was almost invisible among the plants and the rock face.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she started to ascend.

Before long, she made it to the top of the mountain and looked over at the rope bridge connecting the two mountains.

He hovered over the bridge. “Hoo,” he said, as if muttering under his breath.

“I agree,” Tempest said flatly as she gave the bridge a disgusted look. “But the only other option is to go down into that valley there, walk through that forest, and then find a spot to climb back up way over there, so I’m going to risk it.”

“Hoo.”

Tempest scoffed.

“Hoo,” he repeated.

“Well, if it bothers you so much, grab the back of the cart and flap your wings.”

“Hoo,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Tempest checked the cart one more time, and then started across the bridge. She could hear the creaking of the boards and the whining of the ropes as they strained under the weight. She wanted to speed up, but she knew she had to move steadily. Any sudden movement could snap a rope and unravel the whole bridge which would send her and the pies hurtling to the rocky ground far below and now was a really, really good time to not look down…

“Hoo.”

“Not helping!” Tempest spat, doing her best to maintain a slow movement.

She heard the ‘twang’ of a rope fiber snapping, and she inhaled sharply. Halfway across. She could do this. She just had to keep moving, though she did find herself moving a little faster now and could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She could fight just about anything living, but gravity couldn’t be punched in the face, and she was painfully cognizant of this fact right now.

There was another soft twang, and then another, and then the next thing she knew, her hoof had broken through a board. Tempest let out a startled whinny, but fear gave her strength. Abandoning all sense of carefulness, she pushed off the board she still had her footing on and scrambled for the mountain on the other side. The bridge unfrayed beneath her and she felt it disintegrate, but her hooves gained just enough traction to make it across and pull herself and the cart onto the mossy ground right before the bridge collapsed.

Tempest turned around and watched it fall behind her. It took longer than she would have expected for it to finally hit the ground. She muttered a word that she had never heard spoken by another pony. That was going to make getting back a pain and a half.

Still. One problem at a time. She checked the pies and was relieved to see that they had survived unscathed. Silently grateful for Applejack’s fastidiousness in packing, she took a step back and sank to her haunches. Now that it was over, thoughts of how close she had come to death flashed through her mind. All those years, and she’d still never…

“Hoo.”

She turned to fix the deadliest death glare she could on Owlowiscious, because she really did not need his input right now; but to her surprise, he was holding out the bag of treats Applejack had packed.

Part of her—a big part—had no desire to show any weakness in front of anything, even a bird, let alone a bird she didn’t particularly care for.
But that part was quickly shut up by the large piece of apple fritter she stuffed in her mouth. It was pure sugar and she knew it, but it was still somehow profoundly comforting. “Thanks,” she said grudgingly.

“Hoo,” he said easily.

She glanced at it and cracked a smile in spite of the situation. “Three sticks of butter,” she repeated.

“Hoo?”

Tempest shook her head and finished the rest of the fritter.