Both Sweetie and Scootaloo were capable of movement in two days, like I had said. I untied them from the bed and allowed them to move about. All three looked like they had been mauled by a bear when I changed their bandages, but they were recovering nicely, the skin sealing properly and the scabs forming without difficulty.
Scootaloo’s wing was messed up, but both were messed up. A birth defect of some kind I guess. She would never fly with those stunted things. I had gotten her to behave by promising to do something about that when she was healthier. I tried my best to get them at least somewhat normal, but it is very hard to change what is already healthy. I can't replace limbs, nor would my power allow me to change her wings without some thought and great effort.
Applebloom’s legs seemed to be healing properly. And I had terrified her with my ‘never walk again’ comment. She didn’t want to so much as twitch until I told her that I had been overstating the problem and that she was going to be fine. She would be too, even if I had to make another deal to fix her legs.
All three had been told that their families knew that they were here, and wished them better. The woods were too dangerous for me to carry them home just yet, and they would have to wait until they healed fully, particularly Applebloom. I really couldn’t move Applebloom with her injuries, but the rest was less than honest.
Applebloom was all right. I made sure of it, staving off the boredom of having to lie still on a bed by regaling all three of them with tales from my homelands and my life. Modified of course. Humans and ponies were very different, but they seemed not to care that the heroes could wield weapons and wear armor despite being ponies.
They had all started calling me grandmother after three days. Scootaloo sometimes called me granny. Sometimes it was just like when the children of the town flocked to my hut, eagerly awaiting my next tale. I settled into a lifestyle revolving around taking care of them, both medically and personally as the fall slowly progressed to winter.
After not visiting me for so long Discord came to visit again. The fillies had been terrified of him for some reason so I snapped at him to keep everything mostly normal lest I wallop him with my pan. When he asked me why I didn’t just order him to behave I told him that that would be cruel. He liked that.
It took a while, but they got used to him, my watchful eye discouraging him from scaring their fur off. They called him a ‘Draconequus’, apparently unique. He remarked that he had to go and left soon, though he did make several visits when the trio stayed with me. They even grew… tolerant of his nonsense though I still found him hilarious.
They had nightmares when I had told them the tales of the geistermen so I sang them to sleep one night. They loved it when I managed to cobble together a simple loaf of bread which I filled with berries. They kept telling me the stories of their lives, and sometimes suggested that they would like it if I could be near them always. They always greeted me when I came back, and smiled at me when I was near them.
They brought the light back into my life, the same light that the dark raiders had snuffed out. I was happy for the first time in a long time, happier than I had ever really been, but I was sure that I was forgetting something.
It was as I was boiling some plants for stew that I recalled. Fillies needed to learn, like children did. I spoiled children naturally, but they needed to learn things like cooking, stitching, housework, and survival. I wouldn’t train them to be hags, but an advanced knowledge of the woods would be very helpful to their explorative natures. I began after they had been with me for six days.
First was cooking which Applebloom was mostly unable to do for obvious reasons. Simple task with simple results I thought. Sweetie somehow burned water and Scootaloo was only capable of preparing rations and ruining everything. I had to get the spirits to repair my poor cauldron when she dented it so bad I could have used it as a shield.
With the spirits’ help (and Discord’s) I gathered some silk and created some thread to teach them sewing and knitting. Sweetie was capable of simple designs and a pretty cloth, but anything more complicated would somehow result in her tied up in a ball. Scootaloo need far more patience and lacked the skill to manipulate the needle properly. She kept jabbing herself with it, leading me to craft a protective cover for her hoof.
They could do housework after a fashion. My home was far from a normal house, but they were capable of sweeping the tiny floor rather well. I didn’t allow them near my regents or give them anything else to do; I liked my house in one piece. The simple things like sweeping sometimes had things break and I preferred to try and keep that to a minimum.
They had bought up math and reading, but since when did girls need to learn math? Reading was a pastime that some enjoyed, but not math, and they had been strangely happy, even ecstatic, when I told them that. They also told me that reading apparently included something about writing about the stories after reading them. I told them that they were mistaken and had been completely mystified when they called me the greatest grandmother they could have, particularly Scootaloo.
Survival was their favorite class, despite it being the only one to include actual work and tests. I needed to make sure that they had memorized my lessons, so that they would be safe when they could eventually go into the woods by themselves again. Basic insight into fey, geistermen, and the various plants, good and bad. They were very good at it, and made me proud often.
They were with me for two weeks, until the first snowfall fell on the silent woods. I mourned the Everfree’s loss of ability to appreciate it. It had been such a curious forest before, and now its voice flitted about like an unthinking beast, not caring of anything and not knowing anything.
It was during that day that Applebloom’s casts could be removed and I could begin helping her to regain her leg’s mobility. She recovered like a true champion, soon wobbling around with unbridled joy after only a few hours of pain as her friends cheered her for every wobbling step.
It had been her that had reminded me.
“When can we go home ta see our families?” she had asked me.
I had completely forgotten that they didn’t live with me.
I was saddened greatly, but the trio’s boundless optimism and delight at the anticipation of seeing their families again brightened me up. It wasn’t as though I would never see them again. At least, I hoped that I would see them again, but that fear was simple to resist then.
Of them all, Scootaloo seemed less happy than the others, even sad, pretending happiness, just like Pinkie had. I suspected that she did not have a home to return to ever since the first time she told me of herself, but she was unwilling to admit such to me or anypony else. Not even when I asked in private. The truth was obviously humiliating or horrible to her, and I let her keep that secret for which she was grateful.
In the end, Applebloom on my back, we crunched through the faint layer of snow, heading toward Ponyville after we had eaten lunch. I took the time to quiz them on the woods around us, smiling as they remembered my warnings and tips, not missing anything except how to actually say the names of things.
I took a small detour and came upon a timberwolf as the girls had called them, the same wooden wolves that had hurt them in the first place. They hid behind me trembling as I coaxed it over and got it to roll around like a large puppy.
It took a while. Not everyone can overcome their fear at seeing the beast that nearly slew them, but they managed with my support. They had been fascinated after a time, touching and petting the wooden beast with awe as it laid there unresponsive.
“How’d you do that?” asked Scootaloo as she poked at its unblinking eyes.
“I told you child, I’m a hag. If I cannot control one geistermen then I would not have survived my first winter, nor would I be a hag. Take note of it, this is the most common beast in the Everfree. See here?” I touched the neck, “If you kick here as it lunges, even one of you could snap its neck with ease and the corpse would fall on you, making the others unwilling to get to you.”
“Why?” asked Sweetie, the most skittish of the three near the timberwolf.
“Geistermen cannot abide seeing their dead. They hate seeing reminders of their mortality, and will avoid reminders. Keep this in mind if you ever find yourself attacked by them again. It may save your lives.”
They nodded and we resumed the journey. At the edge of the woods I managed to prevent myself from crying as they bid me farewell, one orange Pegasus awkwardly trying not to appear ‘mushy’.
They ran off as the sun began its descent and I walked back into the woods slowly and sadly. They were nearly recovered and in a few days I could resume breaking the crystal tree. The thought spurred me on, but I was weighed down; those fillies had brought some light into an old woman’s life and it was… difficult to let them go.
Soon they would reunite with their families and learn of my deception. With all my being I hoped that they would forgive me. If not… well, they might not find me again before I breathed my last. Whether that was god or bad, I was unable to decide.