Soarin, being a Pegasus and having spent most of his life in clouds or other high purchases could readily admit he had never spent a considerable amount of time hiking by hoof through a forest before, let alone a mysterious one.
His first thought when tackling the mission of the Missing Cluckers, as he liked to call it, was that he would fly overhead and use his keen superior sight to spot the missing fowls. Unfortunately, when he had brought it up to Big Mac, the red stallion had shook his head with a "No-ope," and gestured a hoof along the line of thick dense foliage in the near distance.
Sure enough, once they reached the entrance to the Everfree Forrest, he found that the trees and other shadier looking plant life nearly blocked out the sunlight altogether, leaving things in a perpetual grim twilight of shadows, thus leaving searching by air a useless endeavor.
Soarin would never readily admit that he pouted a tad those first 15 minutes into their walk into the sinister woods. Not that it lasted that long after all, mainly because this was his rival after all, his mothers had taught him that pouting in front of your rival is just bad form after all.
Secondly, there was something about Everfree that...did not feel right. The longer he was in the foreboding place, the more his withers shivered with disquiet.
"Hey Big Mac, is it true that this forest really exists outside of scheduled weather and is filled with giant eldritch monsters?"
"Ye-ep," Mac intoned seriously.
"Kinda...kinda weird huh?" Soarin commented as he stuck his head into a bush randomly only to be suddenly yanked back just in time by the scruff of the neck by the large red stallion as he nearly lost said head in the jaws of some carnivorous looking plant camouflaged in the leaves, which then snapped two twigs together in a 'gosh darn it' sort of way before slithering off for easier prey.
Mac dropped him and continued calmly searching for the chickens.
Soarin rubbed his neck with a hoof, "Thanks Big Mac," the blue Pegasus said gratefully.
"It's alright," Mac said finally, "just be careful."
"Believe me I will be," Soarin agreed, eyeing another rustling bush with deep suspicion.
The two searched for several hours and finally got lucky when they spotted a couple of chickens pecking at the base of a tree that had several gaping jagged holes looking creepily like a cackling face.
Soarin and Mac gathered the chickens before they could wander off again, putting them in the large netted baskets attached to both their backs.
23 minutes later the two stallions found the next chicken perched on top of a boulder in the middle of a nest of snakes two pony lengths long and a worrisome poisonous green.
Fortunately, the nest was in a small rocky clearing, so he was able to use his wings here to their benefit. Soarin had never sweated so much while flying in his life as he did in those tense few minutes trying to not wake the potentially killer reptiles which were quite large up close and smelled of burnt things in a worrying way.
The next chicken Big Mac lassoed off the back of the top of the middle head of a Hydra half submerged in a bog also having a snooze. Unfortunately for them this time, the chicken had let loose a large racket over getting roped, and both stallions had to gallop for their lives for a good hour until they lost the irate Hydra in a deep prickly thicket.
Unfortunately for the two ponies said thicket was also filled with beautiful bright blue flowers.
"Erus rof ereht srenog erew ew thguoht I eno esolc a saw tahT wow!" exclaimed the panting Soarin, grimacing as he yanked a clump of thorns from his flank.
"Oh...my...Celestia! you, like, you totes make no sense!" Big Mac gasped in a wispy Valley-Mare soprano.
The two stared at each other, for a beat, both yelping when the chickens on their back suddenly let out a series of musical belches in a rather pleasing rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel.
"Ecalp yzarc siht fo tuo teg ot deen eW!"
"This is so not cool, I think we totes need to see Zecora, I think its Poisonous Joke," Big Mac stamped a hoof unhappily.
"Taht s'tahw, ekoJ suonosioP?"
"Come on, I totes know where she hangs, follow me!"
Mac skipped forward, Soarin gamely following, tense, scratched up, limping from a spill he had taken when he had tripped over a tree in-route running from the hydra, and generally wishing for a soft fluffy cloud, an apple pie, and a certain unicorn cuddled up next to him while watching the sun set.
ooo ooo ooo
After a perilous hour's walk through a leech invested briar, dodging fang filled sink holes, and that brief detour when Soarin got a chance to have a turn at saving Big Mac this time when the stallion was being carried off by an amorous giant winged baboon with Soarin exercising a rather impressive wing powered right hoof that busted said predator's face and the hero's hoof in one go, though the subsequent herrnya could be blamed more on Big Mac as the Pegasus had to catch, then carry, the significantly larger pony back to the dubious safety of the ground from freefall.
Eventually, the intrepid Chicken gatherers staggered into Zecora's hut, Mac carrying Soarin and the chickens on his back, the two of them covered in blood, mud and leaves with Big Mac piping grimly to the startled Zebra at the door.
"We totes need your help Zecora."
"Indeed, a bad day for you two agreed," Zecora said dryly, "Come follow me, the cure to your ills begins with a shower especially."
ooo ooo ooo
Fortunately for the Stallions, the Zebra had a cure for the Poisonous Joke flower that they had stumbled into, and was able to treat some of the more minor wounds, though Soarin's broken hoof would take longer to heal. Zecora offered them a small wagon on loan to Mac to carry the chickens and Soarin back to the farm and personally lead the two tired stallions along a short, safe, route back to the borderline between the Apple farm and the Everfree Forrest.
After the two of them had dropped off the Chickens for Granny Apple and Apple Bloom, Mac carried Soarin personally in the direction of home.
ooo ooo ooo
The next day, Apple Jack had returned and, upon seeing the wincing, sorry looking stallions, still smarting from their little adventure, had kindly given the both of them the day off.
The two shared a look and without further word, the two limped, Big Mac helping Soarin, towards the most relaxing place they could think of, Dusk's Tea Shop.
The bell above the door jingled as the red stallion tiredly nosed the door open.
Much to both stallion's relief and delight, Dusk, whom had returned from his own adventure in the Everfree woods, and was sitting with Spike at a table.
“Hi Dusk,” they both greeted him at the same time raggedly, “welcome back!.”
"Holy Celestia! What in Tartarus happened?!"