Bushkeeper

by Odd_Sarge


29 - Directions

Andrew stared down at the array of fish laid out before him. There were five of the rather large silver sunfish, and they were all his to consume. He looked up at the pegasi that had just dropped the fish, all smiling broadly. The teenager nodded with his own wide, beaming grin.

“Thanks guys.”

After their quick bows, the ponies left him to gut and cook his fish.

“Now then,” Andrew began, eyes trained on the fish. “How am I going to eat you…?” He licked his lips hungrily and picked up one fish. He paused and looked around briefly. Nobody came up to disturb him, and in his time of bliss, Andrew found a rock, poured some water from his thermos onto it, and got to work descaling the fish. The teenager was starving, but he was smart enough to clean his fish first.

Minutes later, his hands were damp with fish oil and guts, but he could care less. Spitting one of the fish with a stick from his hiking pack, Andrew sat eagerly by the fire and tended to roasting fish. His lips dripped with saliva, a byproduct of the heavenly aroma wafting through the air. His late-night cooking attracted the attention of more than a few ponies, and some of the more curious ones came over and sat by Andrew to ‘supervise.’ The teenager was tempted more than a few times to pet the ponies, but the state of his hands made him think twice.

By about eight at night, he had finished cooking each of the fish. An hour later, his stomach was filled with fish, but he remained hungry for more. His stomach rumbled eagerly, and so he moved on to fill it with berries and the water from his thermos. Frowning down at his hands, and dirtied bottle, Andrew decided to march off to the river to wash his hands. By that time, most of the ponies had fallen asleep and the fire that Sparky had started was beginning to die down. The teenager threw in the last of his firewood from his hiking pack, took off his hoodie and shirt to let them dry, then left to go find the river.

Thankfully, the night was peaceful. The crickets in the field around him chirped their swaying songs, and the few owls hooted in their hollows within the northern woods. Andrew adjusted the straps on his hiking pack as he walked, eyes glancing every now and then around the quiet field for a glance at any passing creatures. Nothing came to him on his journey to the river and back, and the night ended for Andrew with the crackling flames of the dying campfire.

As he awoke, hungering for more food and with a desire to slake his thirst, the teenager found himself alone in the camp with Greeny. The unicorn stallion was inspecting his keratin tooth, but not actively carving. Andrew yawned and stretched as he stood, prompting the unicorn himself to stand with sudden attention.

Greeny bowed low. “The herds await you, Bushkeeper.”

The Bushkeeper scratched his neck and looked around. “Yeah, where’d they go, Greeny?”

Greeny understood Andrew’s confusion. “They have moved to the river between the hills. Are you ready to pursue them?

“I mean, why not?” Andrew groaned and shook his head. “Yes. I meant, yes.”

Nodding, Greeny patiently waited for Andrew to slip on his hiking pack, then took off at a decent pace towards the east.

As soon as the two crested the hill to the area, they bumped into the foals. Sparky was the most visible as he was the tallest of the foals. Andrew estimated him to be an adolescent at the very least, but that was as far as he could think before Sparky bowled the human over. Greeny chuckled and left the two to it.

Bushkeeper! Where is your stick?” Sparky stepped off of the teenager, ears pressed down against his skull. “Sorry.

Andrew stood with a laugh and ran his hand through the colt’s mane. “I don’t need that stick anymore, Sparky.” He paused, then pointed to the pony. “Sparky. Sparky.” Andrew pointed to himself. “Andrew. Andrew.”

A… a name?” Sparky’s face scrunched up as he tried the word again. “Name. Sparky.”

The human pointed at himself. “And I am…?”

Sparky’s brow furrowed further. “Andrew?”

Andrew gave a nod. “Yes.”

The colt repeated the new words under his breath a couple more times, before letting out a groan. “Play. Play, Bushkeeper. Words are not fun.

Andrew ruffled the colt’s mane one last time. “Later.”

Sparky made a face, but eventually tumbled off to go play with the other foals on the hill. Andrew shook his head as a cheap grin found its way onto his lips.

“Andrew! Bushkeeper!” Mint was rushing up the hill.

“Mint?”

Mint took pause and watched as Andrew approached her. “Where is your stick, Bushkeeper?

“My leg’s all good now.” He pat his right calf for emphasis. “Had a bit of a soak, did the trick.”

Mint opened her mouth, then shut it. She did that one more time before shaking her head. “Follow,” she ordered in the stead of questioning Andrew. Turning, she strut down the hill and back towards the group of ponies conversing by the river.

Andrew’s approach caused the chattering ponies to stop. Each of the herd leaders gave a small bow to the teenager, and then waited for him to speak.

“Er, hello guys.”

Again, I must repeat that this is the biggest problem!” Andrew and all of the herd leaders turned to Lemon. “We cannot understand it—him, but it is clear that he understands us. We must prioritize sharing our languages in order to prosper.

The Bushkeeper cannot speak our own language,” Mint added. “It is clear that he is unable to emulate our words, but we…" the unicorn mare waved a hoof over the three respective herd leaders, including herself, “we are able to speak his words.

Brownie spoke next, a rare occurrence in Andrew’s memory. “So that’s it then? We learn how to speak the Bushkeeper’s language?” The mare shook her head. “You already have begun to teach our foals of his language—” Brownie’s eyes narrowed. “—and who knows what else.

Mint took offense to that. “What are you implying?” she growled.

Andrew stepped in, palms raised forward. “Hey, let’s keep it calm, Brownie, Mint.”

Yes, I agree with the Bushkeeper… with... Andrew.” Storm smiled at Andrew. He smiled back. “We must remain peaceful if we are to plan for our foals’ future.

Says the mare who threatened the willhorns with violence,” Lemon butt in sarcastically. Andrew delivered a hard slap to the stallion’s neck. The unicorn gave a yip and rubbed at the spot, glaring at Andrew all the while. “Don’t do that!

“The adults are talking, Lemon.” Andrew knew the irony of his own statement, but pushed Lemon away from the meeting nonetheless. “Go sit in your… your grassy corner… and think about what you’ve done wrong.”

Lemon, of course, did not leave. Andrew joined back into the conversation, receiving an apologetic smile from Storm.

I apologize for my previous words… the attack and the previous days have changed my mind about your willhorns.

Greeny beamed in reply. “Glad to hear it!"

Brownie looked to Mint and sighed. “Yes, I apologize as well. This season has been particularly troublesome.

All of those present took the sudden moment of silence to recall the burning Great Green.

“Writing.” The ponies looked to Andrew as he repeated again, “Writing.”

That is one way to go about it,” Greeny agreed.

“Well, I want to build a shelter.” The ponies all listened carefully to Andrew as he spoke. “I know you guys—oh forget it. I want to build a small little perimeter. I don’t have much else to do if I can’t sheperd you guys around anymore. Oh, I know, I could teach you guys how to plant grains and such, or even gather up the apples from the grove to the north—”

“Andrew,” Mint sighed, “we still do not understand you, as you may already know.

“Yes, I know.”

Orange snorted. “He is not a grown stallion, is he?

The various mares and stallions around began whuffling at that.

“Dude! Why?!” Andrew blushed as the whuffs the ponies made began to sound more and more like human laughter. “You suck!”

Actually, it is quite clear, now that I see it like that.” The other ponies gave sounds of agreement to Mint’s statement.

“Scratch that, all of you suck!”

Storm sighed with a tinge of mirth. “Enough teasing. We have plans to make.

The Bushkeeper has to lead us, we agree on this, yes?” All of the ponies nodded at that. Andrew went to butt in his own reply, but Storm continued speaking. “We should leave some ponies under his leadership while we prepare for the frost moon. The Great Lights have told me that we are mere nights away from the rise of the frost moon.” A murmuring arose from all of the ponies listening in.

Andrew froze at that. ‘We have that much time before winter? That’s not good.

What would the Bushkeeper do with our herd?” Brownie asked. Andrew saw her eyes flick between Storm and him suspiciously.

Storm gave some sort of shrug. “He may teach them, he may play with them, or he may pursue some other activity with them. It is hard to know his own thoughts.” Storm frowned at Andrew. “He stands here before us, and all he may do is listen.

The Bushkeeper sighed, emphasizing the mare’s point with his reply. “Yes.”

Mint whinnied, “This sounds well. Shall we commit to scavenging for food and seeking shelter, then?

We may carve the earth for shelter,” Brownie nodded. “Your willhorns and winged ones will be able to find food, yes?

Blackie, Mint, Greeny, and Storm all gave their agreement.

Then it shall begin.” Bowing, Brownie spoke to each pony in turn, “Earth be with you.

The parties separated, leaving Andrew alone amongst a sea of worriedly babbling ponies. He understood completely, of course. They had spent so much time moving from beyond the mountains and into the valley that they had completely forgotten about preparing for winter. It wasn’t like they could do much, Andrew realized; they were ponies, and definitely had no hibernation instincts in their blood. At least, that’s what he expected.

After wandering for a small amount of time without anyone to talk to, Andrew found a small amount of ponies herded around him. They all seemed as confused as he was, if their disoriented neighs were anything to go by.

Storm was at the edge of the crowd pressed up against Andrew. “This is your flock, Bushkeeper. Take care of them, and they will take care of you. Lead as you will.

And that was that.

Andrew blinked and looked over the sea of ponies around him. “Uh, well. This was sudden and unexpected.”

Each of the ponies blinked up at him in kind.

“No, but seriously, why are you guys pressed up against me like this?” He lightly pushed on the closest pony, sending the herd shuffling a little. The ponies picked up on Andrew’s desire for them to move and gave him some much needed breathing room.

One of the ponies, the white pegasus mare that had helped carry Andrew to the Berry Forest, asked meekly, “What are we doing, Bushkeeper?

“You know what, that’s a great question my pegasus friend.” He stepped away from the crowd, though they did follow behind him. He stared down the stream and towards the icy peaks to the north. He remained quiet for a moment, before he turned and spoke up, his thoughts collected.

“Let’s get started with some simple stuff: making shelter for winter.”

The ponies stared blankly at Andrew. He sighed.

“Nevermind, I forgot again.” He waved his finger around in the air, then pointed in a random direction. “Let’s learn some Eng—” the ponies galloped off in the direction his finger was pointing “—lish.” Groaning, Andrew followed after the ponies. “Why do they always run off after the finger?”