//------------------------------// // 28 - Songs // Story: Bushkeeper // by Odd_Sarge //------------------------------// Andrew wasn’t sure what was up between Storm and the black alpha. Was it even right to call the pegasus an alpha anymore? He was back within the confines of the pegasus herd, and Blackie was technically the herd’s alpha, wasn’t he? Storm was currently lying down next to the stallion and using the campfire at the center of the camp to dry herself off at the same time. Andrew himself had settled down with Mint and Greeny near the edge of the light, right next to the berry bushes. It had only been a few minutes since their arrival, and Andrew was sure that the pegasi would follow soon enough. “I’m not sure sending the traitors out to pick up our pegasi is a good idea…” Mint snorted and nosed another berry out from the pouch Andrew had set aside. The smell of fish had never been washed away, but the blueberries had most certainly overpowered the scent anyway. Greeny, for his part, simply continued to carve into the keratin tooth. Andrew wasn’t sure how Greeny managed to carve it with teeth alone, or even managed to find space to carve new art in for that matter, but it wasn’t his place to ask. All Andrew had to do was keep the ponies safe. His eyes flicked over to the black pegasus. Keeping them safe from themselves was a good place as any to start. Groaning, Andrew lifted himself upwards. He dug around for a moment and pulled out his hoodie. After sliding the article on, Andrew dug his hands in the front pockets and wandered over to where Storm and the fish-stealing thief lay. He cleared his throat politely and crouched down beside them. Storm looked up to Andrew and smiled weakly. “Do not blame him for what he has done—” she nuzzled the black pegasus “—my son only wanted to prove my mate wrong.” Intrigued, Andrew settled into a comfortable spot beside the grey mare. The quietly snoring black pegasus shuffled a bit at the movement, but otherwise remained still and asleep. “We feared that the past frost moon would not leave enough food for the flock to survive on throughout the snowy days. We separated after a long argument, my son trying for the ideal that he could lead the flock better than the falfa could. Much of the flock agreed with him, most seeing him as stronger and less frail than my aging mate.” Storm whinnied sadly and lowered her head. “It is obvious now that my son can lead, but he is not truly prepared for such an endeavor.” “I heard him in the Great Open. He cried for his flock to not attack, but attack they did. Blood was their undoing, for the moment my life force began to drip was the moment that he felt conflict. His flock was quick to retreat on his order, but the damage had already been done. It is clear that his flock sought revenge on the ponies who had injured their leader, but do not blame yourself, Bushkeeper.” Storm leveled the teenager with a gentle smile. “I know what you did. You simply were defending yourself. There would have been no other way to go around this situation; it was inevitable.” “I wish that I had taught him more before he left us long ago… but I am thankful to see that he has survived the past frost moon. So many moons spent without his gatherers and passion by our side. I am glad to see he has not proven my mate wrong, for if he had, my son would live no longer: he never gained true loyalty from his flock, only respect wrought of brutality's way. Fear is not respect.” Andrew ran his thumb over the bridge of Storm’s son’s muzzle, causing his nose to twitch slightly. A question that had been rising from his throat was intercepted by Storm in the winds of fate. “It was only mere days ago that I had seen him for the first time since.” Storm had a nostalgic grin on her face. “He has not changed in the slightest.” “So he has not, for he is still a traitor.” Andrew looked up at Blackie as he stepped over. He frowned deeply at his son on the ground. “I thought I had raised him to be better… to be a better falfa.” Blackie turned to Andrew, eyes thick with regret. “I did not teach him enough of respect, it seems. Not even his flock has benefited from any teachings, for they have shown no respect for my son, only fear.” Blackie lowered his head down to his son and gave a brief, but meaningful nuzzle. “And that is my fault.” “My mate,” Storm cooed. “Blackie… please lay with me.” Blackie complied. Andrew found himself wedged between two fuzzy little ponies. He slid back to allow them to grow closer, but Storm stopped him with a hoof. “It was our fault, falfa… We did the best that we could to prepare him for his life…” “And look how he has spread.” Blackie eyed his son sadly. “He is—” “He is exactly like you when you were young, my mate.” Blackie’s ears flicked towards his mate. “He is strong, sturdy, and impassioned like his father.” Storm draped her neck across her son’s back and shut her eyes. “He will grow to be a fine stallion, one day. He will learn now, Blackie, learn how to be a true leader of his own. We will teach him alongside his mistakes, help him remember respect and the cloudmasters, remember his connection to his ancestors. He will grow to his full potential under our teachings, and with his potential, he will accomplish great things with his flock. Then… then we will let him free. Blackie blinked in surprise. “Let him free?” “He has a flock of his own, my mate.” Storm sat up and smiled warmly at Blackie. “His wings cry to be stretched, to be used for flight, to be used to soar across the Great Open in search of a new home. He is like you from many moons ago… a strong, handsome stud, his herd, and his desire to find a mate…” Again, Andrew went to leave, but found his knees used as a meeting place for the two lovestruck ponies. They laid their heads over Andrew’s legs and nibbled at each others ears, tugging gently in loving motions. Andrew sighed and leant back to stare up at the night sky. Like every night prior, the sky was nearly cloudless, allowing an unobstructed view of its magnificence. He found himself connecting the stars again, and quickly found his favorite constellation that he’d discovered: the flower. There was something truly beautiful about the dozens of stars that formed its fantastic shape, and Andrew was glad that he could appreciate such beauty in his lifetime. Never would he have ever imagined seeing such a lovely night of velvet for over a week, over and over. Then, Andrew spotted something. He was partially distracted by the two ponies expressing their love for each other across his knees, but it was easy to grab his attention from the stars. Every now and then, he’d see a pulse in the sky: a quick flash of light that seemed almost unnoticeable. He finally managed to spot one, and as the light faded, it revealed a lovely purple star that stared down at him. There was another flash, and another, and another. The more Andrew followed them, the more of a shape began to form. By the time Andrew had past his fiftieth pulsar, the shape had truly formed. His eyes traced between the lines again and again. He slid his legs out from underneath the ponies and watched on in awe. A story was being carved before his very eyes on a canvas of velvet bone. The constellation of the keratin tooth was obvious. Andrew scrambled over to where Greeny sat, his intuition pumping vividly through his mind. The stallion was carving furiously by now, and Andrew was glad that he had followed his gut. He collapsed next to the stallion and lay his head in the sweet grass to get as close a look as possible of the stallion’s work. Greeny ignored Andrew and continued to work furiously. Even his horn seemed to be participating in the carving process as it glowed with its green aura. Mint and Greeny had not managed to get Andrew to memorize the pony alphabet, but from what Andrew could see, there was a quite long epic being written. The images were so tiny it seemed almost impossible that Greeny was able to write into the bone. The white band cracked and creaked with each indent that Greeny put into his work, continuing to amaze Andrew with his otherworldly masterwork. Greeny was like a unicorn possessed, and after a full two minutes of carving at an extreme speed, Andrew could see muscles popping out of Greeny’s neck at him. The unicorn sat up and gave a proud whinny, pushing the keratin tooth Andrew’s way. “It is almost complete, Bushkeeper.” Andrew didn’t know what Greeny meant by that, he was far too occupied with looking at Greeny’s art. Sprawling forests now helped to support the mountains in the back. A large glowing sun and prideful moon sat in the sky beside each other, small wisps of cloud and pegasi passing by with each stroke. Above the sky and into the white bands of decor came the writing. It stretch all across the tooth, repeated once more beneath the land at the bottom of the tooth. There was an entire sea of ponies that flooded the entire bottom of the tooth now, and after a long time of attempting to discern its meaning, Andrew finally picked up on it. There were more than just ponies in the image, there were so many more species. He rolled the tooth over once in the hands, then returned to the biped standing in the center of the giant crowd. Andrew stared at his smiling face in the keratin. He smiled back. “Writing,” Andrew said, tapping with his index finger on the beautiful pictograms at the top of the tooth. “Writing.” Andrew had hoped that his plan would work, that Greeny would be able to read his writing aloud for Andrew to understand and admire. But what came from Greeny’s mouth was unlike what Andrew had ever expected. It began as a low hum, a throbbing baritone that Andrew did not think Greeny capable of. Mint had been munching on a berry, but slowed to a halt and swallowed. She began to hum as well, a quiet alto that soon gave way to a bursting rhythm. Andrew suddenly realized that the rhythm had come as a byproduct of other unicorns surrounding them joining into the newly formed choir. Standing, Andrew looked around. The pegasi soon began to join in, helping to add to the ever increasing crescendo of music that graced his ears. They held the most altos of all the ponies in the area, as well as the most tenors. Joining into that came the earth ponies, who brought the most beautiful baritone tones that Andrew did not even think possible. Something began to build inside of Andrew as a song weaved back and forth in the camp. The crackle of the fire was gone, the crickets of the night were gone, the gentle breeze passing by was gone, all that remained now was the music of the ponies. It was a strange, fleeting feeling. As if in a fever-dream, Andrew felt himself an inch off the ground, a cocoon of ribboned light passing all around him in a cone. The song around him was reaching its peak quickly, and the ribbons slid from one color to another as the pace increased. Then, with Greeny holding a long, baritone note that echoed above the rest of the other held notes, Andrew felt himself begin to lead the choir. Words came from his mouth that were completely foreign to him. They sounded pony, yet carried an air of humanity to them. There was something symphonic and angelic to the words despite their lack of meaning, and without being able to help himself, Andrew felt a tear drip down his cheek. As the song began to die down into its blissful ending, Andrew dropped back down to the ground lightly, released from his binding. He felt himself over and attempted to understand what had just happened to him. His hands roamed his chest and legs as he searched for understanding, but all he could find on himself in the wavering voices of the ponies around was the idea that he had just experienced the first of many of the musical experiences. As the ponies came down from their high as well, an excited blabber of thoughts and conversations in the usual pony language came through. Pegasi, earth pony, and unicorn alike came together to share their excitement in the event that had just transpired. Andrew listened carefully for what was being spoken, but all he could hear was the flapping of wings as the gathering party returned from its long disappearance. So, doing just as what any normal human being that was starved for food would do in any situation, Andrew ignored the strange event that had taken place and rushed east to meet with the ponies, the smell of fish wafting through the air as their fish filled hooves came near. After all, singing can take a lot out of a person.