//------------------------------// // 13 - Lull... // Story: Hazel Eyes in the Moonlight // by Oddling //------------------------------// Hazel eyes stared up through the thick canopy above them, gazing tiredly at the waning moon above. It had been five days since the incident in the cave. The Spirit of Harmony had tried to speak with Jim once, the night after she had tested him. Even in the realm of dreams, his wrath had no end and he made sure to show her how much he hated her for what she had done to him. Had injury been possible, the old spirit may have been mortally wounded from the lashing that Jim delivered. Since that night, Jim had not slept. He refused to give that thing another chance at making any form of amends toward him. In his personal opinion, she had no right apologizing to him – the real victim had been Scootaloo. The spirit should have given her the apology! Jim’s fists clenched firmly, drawing blood that seeped into his fur to join the rest that had been drawn over the past few nights. In a way, Jim wanted to let his temper run rampant again, to lose himself to his bestial nature once more. Maybe then something would make sense for him again. Ever since he arrived in this land of ponies and magic, everything he thought he knew had been turned on its end and jumbled up into an irritating mess. Yet for all his anger, all his building hatred for how fate had dealt him such a shitty hand in life, Jim just couldn’t find it in his heart to lose control again. There was no way he could when every time his anger flared up… Scootaloo’s limp and sleeping body would come to the forefront of his mind. Like frost before a raging fire, Jim’s anger melted away into sorrow once more. He could still taste her blood every now and then as he recalled that day. Each time made his stomach churn slightly and this time was no different. With a shuddering sigh, Jim rolled over on his tree branch and waited for the inevitable flow of tears to make their way down his muzzle before they dripped to the forest floor below. In an odd way, Jim was a little puzzled as to why the little orange filly had impacted him so… Jim cried silently for a time. It was times like this that reminded him that he had not moved on in life as he assumed. Though what he had done in the past had hit him hard, especially the week after he had killed Marcus, it somehow became eclipsed by what he had nearly accomplished in that wretched cave. Jim’s heart was still as fragile as the day he felt the pain of losing his mother – a fact that made his blood boil yet the ache from the loss kept his emotions flat-lined in some twisted balance. But right now, sorrow and regret for the injuries he had given poor Scoots had tipped his emotions over an edge. Eventually, Jim’s eyes ran dry and he grunted quietly as he rubbed the back of his hand against his face to rid his fur of the annoying moisture. He sighed heavily and turned his gaze back up to the sky through the canopy. Dawn was approaching. Feeling tired, yet mostly hungry and thirsty, Jim groaned as he rotated his body on the branch. With seemingly practiced ease, the werewolf slid from his perch and he hopped from branch to branch to the forest floor. His landing was a little rough however, and he stumbled down to his hands and knees upon hitting the ground. Ugh… I’m too tired for this shit, Jim thought wearily before he stood up and lumbered toward a nearby stream. Feeling far older than he should, Jim tiredly placed his hands down onto the bank of the stream before he lazily gulped from the crystal clear and refreshing waters. His thirst sated for the time being, the young wolf took a few moments to idly eye his reflection in the gently flowing liquid beneath him. Man… I look awful, he thought to himself as he took notice of how ragged his fur had become over the past few days. Jim stood up and proceeded to look over the rest of his body, noting that it looked even worse than his head. His fur was matted in places and saturated with dirt, it even stuck out in random areas where he had been pressed against his tree. Change of plans… I need a bath. Without further thought, Jim leapt from his spot beside the stream, crashing into the calm surface. Jim’s body instantly became alive again as the very cold water soaked through his coat and made him realize it might have been a bad decision to jump in so early in the morning. But, though nearly freezing to his warm skin, the streams frigidness helped to remove any fatigue he had been suffering from so it was more of a good thing that he had gotten such a swift wakeup call. Once the initial shock from the cold water passed, Jim’s next thought was that he should probably get his head back above the water. Slowly, he tilted his head up and opened his eyes. The orange on the undersides of the clouds would have taken Jim’s breath away had he not needed to hold it. For the past few days he had not seen much of the sky through the forest’s canopy, but the clearing above the stream had just given him one heck of a pretty view. Jim sat beneath the surface of the stream for a time, enjoying the sight above, until the burning in his lungs started to get a little too intense for him. Taking his usual amount of caution, Jim’s nose slowly crept up and breached the surface before he took in a steady inhale. Much to his relief, the air held only the scents of the forest. For a short time the idea that he might have attracted unwanted attention to himself with his splash had danced around in the back of his mind. It was a small boon that nothing had come to investigate. Jim’s bath soon came to an end and he swiftly exited the stream to shake himself off. With that basic task completed and a feeling of mild satisfaction obtained from his bath, Jim’s attention shifted to his next need. As if to solidify his choice, his belly grumbled loudly. Jim sighed softly as he looked down to his slim stomach. “Yeah yeah…” he mumbled before turning and walking off in a random direction. Some time later, Jim found himself on the trail tracking a promising scent through the underbrush. He was unsure as to what he was hunting, but the odor was enticing nonetheless. With any luck, his impending meal would be quite satisfactory. The scent eventually led Jim to a small clearing and within scampered a plethora of prey items. Bunnies hopped around the flowers, nibbling upon the lush green grass. Deer frolicked near the middle of the clearing, licking the dew from a few small bushes. There were squirrels, mice, a small family of opossum, even a pair of beavers. Jim slowly sunk down in the shadows, his dark fur allowing him to become almost perfectly hidden in the dense foliage. Normally he would have picked out one of the deer nearby, but there was just something a little too odd about the gathering of animals in the clearing. Hell, the fact that an isolated little paradise like this existed was strange. Why was this place so clean and lush while the rest of the forest was a tangled, thick mess of warped trees and gnarled roots? Deciding that there was something too out of the ordinary about the clearing, Jim simply sat and waited. There was no way he was going into the little meadow, but that did not mean he would ignore a chance at getting a meal. Sensing that he was downwind enough, the werewolf watched the deer and the beavers from his hiding spot. At some point, his prey would need to leave the clearing… and that was his moment to strike. Sitting still for what felt like hours took its toll on Jim as he patiently waited. His legs had cramped up a long time ago and his back had started to feel strained shortly after, but he persevered through the discomfort. It had been days since his last good meal. The few berries and mushrooms he had found had staved off his hunger somewhat, but they were merely snacks for him. His body needed something more substantial if he wanted to keep healthy enough to survive in the forest… or mope around for a few more days – whichever became the bigger priority really. Eventually, Jim’s wait paid off. The pair of beavers started making their way toward the edge of the clearing opposite from where Jim was and he grinned at the thought of swiftly moving around the area and picking up their scent on the other side. That was, until a new smell wafted through the air. I know that scent… those wooden wolves are nearby… Jim thought irritably. It was clear that he had not been the only one to pick up on the scent either, since every other creature had stopped and was looking toward the source of some rustling in the brush. A trio of the wooden wolves slowly emerged from out of the forest. Jim did his best not to growl in annoyance that his prey was now going to be far more alert thanks to their appearance. Part of him wanted to rush into the clearing and smash them to splinters for making his day more complicated… but then his ears perked up as he realized something. Under normal circumstances, when confronted by a predator, prey would flee. Not a single animal in the clearing had moved away from the wolves. Even the mice had simply gotten up on their back feet and stared at the wooden abominations. Said timber wolves were snarling viciously as they approached a group of bunnies, who had adopted a similar pose as the mice. Yet, despite the nearing threat, not one of the fuzzy little creatures budged. Jim’s brow lifted curiously as he watched the strange display unfold. Why weren’t any of them running away? As if hearing the unspoken question, something in the meadow provided the answer. Thorny roots shot up from beneath the timber wolves, ensnaring all three of them in an inescapable tangle. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jim took notice of the small bushes in the center of the clearing glowing faintly green. It suddenly became evident why he had not liked that place. The roots soon constricted enough to crush the wolves, ending their artificial lives, before they slowly sunk back into the ground. So this place is protected by some magical bushes, Jim mused as he eyed the twigs and bark pieces left behind from the root’s victims. Though he was glad he had followed his instincts, Jim was still pissed off that his chance to get a meal had been ruined. Upon glancing back to his intended prey he quickly took note that they had decided to stay where it was safer for a while longer. Jim cursed silently as he stood and stretched his legs and back. He turned away from the meadow and made his way back into the forest in search of an easier meal. Roughly an hour or two later found Jim back in the heart of the forest, sitting beside a small pile of bones and other undesirable parts of his successful hunt. His travels had led him toward the edges of a marsh. At first it seemed that there would be nothing more than the rotten smell of decaying mush, but that was only until he started to hear a peculiar squishing sound from nearby. He followed the noise and soon discovered that it was being caused by a group of three lizard things. They were about four feet long and had two legs in front that pulled the rest of their serpentine bodies, but what really caught Jim’s eyes were the three heads that each one sported. Still, they were large enough for him, smelled like any other prey, and had no idea that he had spotted them as the three play fought. Needless to say, for a creature with three heads, it was hardly capable of processing what to do when Jim lunged for it. Oddly enough, the thing tasted a lot like chicken only with a slight earthy aftertaste. Jim licked his chops a few more times to make sure he had cleaned most, if not all, of the blood from his muzzle. His ears swiveled around every now and then to take in any sounds nearby as he waited for the scent of his kill to dissipate from him before he moved on. It was not the best idea since the remains of his meal would attract scavengers, but Jim figured it was better to face off against something interested in easy pickings instead of attracting the attention of the forests bigger hunters. Though he knew a few things about Equestria’s wildlife from the pamphlet, he wasn’t fool enough to think that griffons and dragons were the only things he should be wary of, especially in this kind of place. Eventually, Jim felt that he had hung around long enough. He looked around briefly before deciding on a direction to travel, then he promptly slipped away into the brush like a nearly silent shadow. Following his nose, Jim soon came to the edge of a small stream. It was the perfect place to soak his face and claws and rid his fur of any left over blood before continuing forth again. ~~***~~ Some time later, about another hour, Jim found himself in a greener part of the forest. There were more flowers around and fewer gnarled vines, the air was also fresher… and strangely familiar. As Jim emerged through a cluster of bushes, he quickly figured out why he thought he recognized the scents in the air. A mere hundred feet away was the edge of the forest, beyond that was the faint view of Ponyville. Jim’s fists clenched and he gulped apprehensively. He did not want to be there… he was not prepared to meet with any of the ponies yet. Jim cautiously backed back into the brush and removed himself from that place as swiftly as he could without causing too much noise. He would be back to speak with Twilight and the others again, just not right now. Just the thought of facing them and knowing the fear and anxiety that they would show upon seeing him again was a little too much for his unsteady mind to bare at this time. Steady paws took Jim back into the depths of the Everfree. Once he felt that he had put enough distance between himself and Ponyville, Jim finally slowed his pace. He came to a stop and slumped against a tree, sighing quietly. His hand came up to rest against his chest. My heart’s really hammering… I wonder if it’s really such a good idea to put off meeting them again. I’ll have to face them eventually, he thought tiredly. It was so much easier when I lost control before. At least then I had already accepted that there was nothing I could do to stop my actions. But with Scootaloo… things were different. I really could have stopped myself… but I just kept thinking that I was too helpless. If I had been more determined not to hurt her I… Jim sighed once again as a look of defeat and sorrow slowly etched its way over his features. He moved his hand up and ran his fingers through the fur on his head, inhaling deeply. He paused. He breathed out slowly and took another slow sniff of the air. Jim’s ears perked up and swiveled around in search of any sound, only to pick up on nothing more than the faint breeze brushing against the tops of the trees. Something wasn’t right. He knew the scent, but with how dead the forest was… Jim’s heart started beating faster again as his body tensed up like a coiling spring. Seconds ticked by. Then, just as his senses had started to reach their peak, three fillies screamed in the distance. Jim bolted toward their shrieks of terror instantly. He dropped down as he ran and sprinted faster on all fours like a charging rhino, barreling through the brush. In moments he was close enough to hear the clopping of little hooves and he used the sound to pinpoint their location before he put in more effort to run faster. The scent of rotting, bloody breath hit Jim’s nose next and re realized that the thing that had spotted Scootaloo, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle was the same thing he had spotted his first night in the forest. Jim’s lips peeled back slightly and he hissed an angry snarl. The sounds of hoof-clops grew louder. Jim was almost upon them. A heartbeat later and he was airborne, bursting through a clutch of saplings. He soared over the three fillies and skid to a stop. The world froze and silence filled the air once more as Jim stood up and faced the startled lion creature. “Jim!” cried three little voices. Jim’s head turned only slightly, just enough so that he could glare at them for only a moment. The fillies all gulped nervously, knowing that once the vicious manticore that had found them was dealt with that Jim was going to give them one heck of a lecture. Hazel eyes fixated back onto the strange combination of animal parts. Jim’s lips curled back to fully reveal his fangs and he flared his fingers menacingly, growling deeply. The manticore blinked a few times with a frown as it looked between Jim and the three fillies. Then it glared at Jim and snarled angrily, besting Jim’s growl with a deeper and more throaty one. Jim’s stare intensified as he realized that a growl was not enough to get the thing to back down. He sucked in a lung full of air and stomped the ground hard enough to burst a small crater into the ground as he let loose a mighty roar. The manticore’s eyes popped wide and it’s stinger-like tail lowered as it backed away a few steps. It looked back to the fillies, then back to Jim as it weighed its options. It wasn’t worth it. Keeping its eyes locked on Jim, the manticore slowly backed away before turning and bolting into the forest when it was far enough away. Jim continued to follow the sound of the creature’s retreat for a time until all he could hear was the sounds of the forest coming back to life. Once he was sure the coast was clear, Jim slowly turned around to face the little troublemakers. His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms as Apple Bloom and sweetie Belle bowed their heads and flattened their ears against their heads. Scootaloo however, simply smiled up at her savior. Jim sighed and shook his head. “Alright you three, you’ve got one chance to explain what you were thinking when you came back into this forest – especially after what happened last time.”