As the Spriggan and I continued along through the forest, I continued to dwell on my companion’s outburst. Where did that come from? I thought confusedly. One minute she was nice as can be, the next she was ready to rip me a new one! And now… My thoughts trailed off as I spared a glance towards the Spriggan. She was floating ahead of me, all traces of anger gone. She was even singing, for Pete’s sake! Apparently my earlier suspicion was correct; she was definitely insane.
Eventually her massive shift in attitude prompted me to ask, “So, that whole thing a minute ago. Are we just pretending that didn’t happen?” This prompted the Spriggan to turn toward me with a confused expression on her face.
“What are you talking about?” She asked, an expression of sincere bewilderment on her face. “Do you mean when you insulted my forest?” Her expression seemed to darken again, and I gulped audibly. Thankfully though, she seemed to calm herself down, and continued, “Well I knew you didn’t mean it, so there’s no problem! Right?” She beamed again, and I copied her smile, albeit anxiously.
Okay, so I guess we are just gong to forget that for now. I thought. I just have to be sure not to do anything to set her off again. I looked towards the Spriggan again, to find she had continued on, and was even singing to herself again. Should be easy enough.
Slowly, I moved to follow the Spriggan, but was suddenly stopped as she whipped around to face me. “I almost forgot!” She said. “My name’s Magnoliophyta!”
I gaped at her, dumbfounded. “Magno-what now?” I asked confusedly. The Spriggan only smiled wider in response.
“Everypony just calls me Maggie!” She added. “So, what’s your name?” This caused me to pause in thought for a moment.
I can’t give her my real name. I thought. It would just seem odd. What would be a good name for a Basilisk? Thinking back to Harry Potter, an answer soon presented itself. “Salazar. My name is Salazar, but you can call me Sal.”
Maggie’s smile was stretching across her face now, farther than any real face could. “Nice to meet you, Sal!” Reaching forward, she stuck a hoof out to shake. I glanced at her hoof, before giving her a deadpan look. She quickly retracted her hoof, grinning embarrassedly. "Right, sorry. Anyway, let’s get going, it’s not far now!” With that, she buzzed forward, and I slithered along after her.
Several minutes later, I began to notice a distinct gap in the trees around us, and, looking down, realized that we had stumbled upon a dirt path. Seeing this as a sign of us getting closer to the town, I quickened my pace. Turning to face Maggie, but not slowing my gait, I said, “So you said earlier the town might act hostile towards me. Why is that? What could they have against me?”
Maggie shook her head. “It’s nothing against you really, just creatures from the forest in general. They’ve been having a problem with monsters attacking them. It took forever for them to get comfortable around me.”
I nodded in understanding. “Alright, then. Do you think you can convince them to trust me?”
Maggie shrugged uncertainly. “I really don’t know. Some of the ponies there are nice, and would definitely have no problem with you. The ones guarding the entrance, on the other hand, would attack you the moment they saw you. But don’t worry; as long as you’re seen with me, they probably won’t try anything.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, and together we continued onward. Not even a minute later, we caught our first glimpse of the town through the tree line. My first thought upon seeing it was that it looked more like a village than a town. None of the buildings had more than one story, save for a series two-story towers, each one placed near the edges of the village, forming a large circle. They appeared to be made of logs cut from the trees of the forest, and as Maggie followed my gaze I felt her stiffen slightly next to me, muttering darkly. I shifted an extra foot away from her, just in case.
Looking down to the rest of the town, I saw that, rather than the thatched roofs I had come to expect from pony-made buildings, almost every building was some sort of lean-to made of stone, no bigger than an outhouse. How were ponies living in these things?
Casting my gaze even lower, I was met with a surprise: Completely encircling the village on all sides was a large pit, similar to a moat, and at least fifteen feet wide. Above that, a low stone wall, no taller than three feet high, stretched around the village, effectively forming a large perimeter. Finally, I saw what at first seemed to be a wall between the two closest towers, but upon closer inspection proved to be a long, flat string of logs, no doubt a bridge used to cross the moat.
I had just finished observing the village when a loud noise blasted trough the air, startling Maggie and I. After overcoming my surprise, I realized the noise was actually a blast from a large horn, mounted upon each of the towers, with the one closest to us being the origin of the first blast. I shot a nervous glance to Maggie, who responded with a small smile. “Don’t worry, that was just one of the guards letting the town know we’re coming. As long as we avoid looking threatening, they won’t shoot us. Probably.” She finished flatly, proceeding forward. I gulped, but slowly moved to follow.
As we drew closer to the village, I got a closer look at the moat. It held no water; what lay at the bottom was much worse. Wooden stakes, hundreds of them, each as thick around as a flagpole, lined the bottom of the pit. What drew my attention, though, was that a majority of them were coated in a dark, viscous substance. I would say it was blood, if not for its color. Rather than the deep maroon of dried blood that I knew, instead it was completely black.
My attention was pulled away from the moat as the bridge came crashing down, and three figures strode across the bridge. The figure in the middle was the lone pony of the group. If I had to guess, I would have said he was either an Earth Pony or a Pegasus. He lacked a horn, but a large cuirass covered his midsection, as well as his Cutie Mark. He was large, about as tall as I was “standing,” and was solidly built. His face was visible, and was set in a deep scowl.
As he strode toward us he was flanked by, of all things, two diamond dogs. Both were decked out in full plate armor including helmets that hid their faces, but the body shapes as well as the patches of exposed fur made it clear to me what they were.
The group stopped about halfway across the bridge, and the pony’s eyes widened as he got a look at me, then narrowed into a glare as he shifted his gaze over to Maggie. Turning to the diamond dogs, he muttered something I couldn’t hear, but was clearly an order, as the pair immediately turned and began striding back across the bridge into the village. Turning back to us, the pony strode across the bridge, stopping when he was five feet in front of us. Behind him, the drawbridge slowly began to retract, stranding us together on the far side of the moat.
For almost a minute, we simply stood there in silence, regarding each other. It was during this time I was able to make out some more of the pony’s features. His coat was a cold steel gray, while his mane was a sharp contrast, a pure snow white. His eyes, as large as I would expect from a pony, were navy blue. Any further examination was halted as the pony spoke, “What the hay is this, Spriggan? What is this thing, and why have you brought it here? I told you, we’ve had enough of your damned forest’s monsters, and we don’t need any more waltzing through here.”
Beside me, Maggie was quivering with suppressed rage, a low buzz issuing from her form, like a swarm of angry bees. “I told you, my name is Maggie.” She growled. “And this is Sal.” She gestured to me, which prompted the pony to glare at me hatefully. Lifting my tail, I gave a small wave in response.
The pony looked at her incredulously. “It understands?” He asked, to which she nodded in response. The pony then turned to look at me, studying me carefully. “Alright then, I assume you aren’t here to attack us, so what do you want?”
Maggie was quick to answer for me. “He just needs somewhere to stay. He isn’t from the forest, and staying out there is too dangerous.”
The pony gave me an appraising look, before answering with a crisp, “No.”
“You can’t just turn him away!” She finished, stamping a hoof for emphasis.
The pony fixed the both of us with a sneer before responding, “Look, even if I wanted another monster to deal with –which I don’t- we just don’t have the supplies to take anypony in. The ac-“ He was cut off suddenly by a loud blast from the horn that had announced our arrival earlier, followed by a cry of “ATTACKERS, COMING FROM THE EAST!”
Whipping around toward the source of the cry, I spotted a pony standing at the top of one of the towers, dressed in plate armor similar to the diamond dogs and pointing off in the direction we had come from. Suddenly, what looked like a long, silvery rope blasted out of the woods and wrapped around his outstretched hoof. Then, in one swift motion, the pony was yanked off the tower, falling straight down into the pit below. I turned away, but was unable to block out the sickening splurch noise that accompanied his landing.
Looking instead to the origin of the rope while simultaneously fighting back revulsion, I saw that it had come from one of five figures that had emerged from the woods behind us. Upon seeing them, I froze, fear gripping my heart and paralyzing my body.
Before me were five of the largest spiders that I had ever seen. They were the size of compact cars, easily four feet tall, with eight long, twitching limbs sprouting from a bulbous furry body suspended between them. I was struck completely rigid, unable to twitch out of sheer terror.
You see, one of my greatest fears, more than anything else, are spiders. From an early age, I have been absolutely terrified of them. I don’t know what it is about them that terrifies me so; all I know is that nothing else can affect me in quite the same way. Bats, snakes, rats, and even other bugs, such as insects were nothing to me, compared to the sheer pants-wetting fear that spiders inspired in me. Let me give you an example, dear reader. Just about a month ago, I was driving along when suddenly I spotted a spider no bigger than a dime crawling on the passenger-side window. I had to, no lie, pull over, get out, and psych myself up to finish the last few miles to my destination, I was that scared.
So naturally, you can assume my reaction to seeing five spiders easily the size of my mother’s Mini Cooper. I was petrified, too scared to even faint for fear of what they would do to my unconscious form. I simply stared at them in dumbstruck horror, slack-jawed and frozen in fear.
Imagine my amazement when the spiders got one look at me, and promptly jerked back in horror, like I would if I had found one of them inside my closet. “The Great Serpent!” One of them hollered in a sharp, resonating tone. “Run for your lives!” Another shrieked. Then, without so much as a backward glance, the five spiders turned tail and ran for their lives, screaming bloody murder all the while.
For a pregnant moment, we all just stood there, Maggie, the pony and I, staring at the woods into which the spiders had retreated. Nobody (or should I say, nopony) said a word, each of us simply pondering what in the nine circles of hell had just transpired.
Suddenly, the pony turned towards the nearest tower (the one without a dead sentry, that is) and made a quick gesture with his hoof. A moment later the drawbridge lowered, and the pony strode stiffly across it. Once on the other side, the pony turned to us, and said simply, “Welcome to Wolf’s Hollow.”