The weird sound coming from nearby
Gave Carrot quite a scare
She looked around, searched low and high,
And stammered out “Who’s there?”
“Come closer, child, and speak with me,
For I know all about
The deathly crimson malady
Afflicting Carrot Sprout…”
The farmer’s heart skipped quite a beat
At mention of her child
Though instinct told her to retreat,
She stepped into the wild.
The soothing voice, it led her on
As gentle as a breeze,
And soon enough she came upon
A clearing in the trees
The ground was covered with a plant
Of very ill repute
Its leaves hung in a drooping slant;
They called it mandrake root
When uprooted, the stories said,
The mandrake, without fail,
Would knock a foolish pony dead
With one ear-piercing wail
But stranger still, the form it took
Could chill a pony’s soul;
Its twisted roots would often look
Just like a little foal!
And at the clearing’s very core
A worn stone altar stood
It bore the evil runes of yore
To ward off light and good
Poor Carrot shook in fearful dread
At this corrupted place
But still she forged on straight ahead
To see what she must face.
As Carrot Top stepped with great care
Her tired mind ill at ease
She spied the figure of a mare
Emerging from the trees
“Now welcome, child, to my old shrine,
In this forgotten glade.
I think, with your son on the line,
A bargain can be made…”
The ragged mare looked small and old,
Though sturdy as an oak,
To ward herself from wind and cold
She wore an old green cloak
Her milky eyes seemed frail and weak
But held a hidden flame,
When Carrot brought herself to speak
She asked the pony’s name.
“Oh child, I’ve been called many ways
But none that you have seen
For ponies that I meet these days
I’m just the Mare in Green.
I’ve seen the trouble you’ve been through
With your son’s losing fight,
And so I wish to offer you
A chance to set things right.
For I can grant to you great wealth,
Your coffers I can fill,
So you can buy, for your son’s health,
That Crystal Daffodil!”
It seemed too good to be all true
Could such a thing be real?
The farmer asked what she must do
For her side of the deal
The Green Mare’s creepy laughing broke
The silence ‘round the glade,
She reached her hoof beneath her cloak,
And pulled a wicked blade.
“To this shrine, olden ponies came
To offer sacrifice
Now I want you to do the same
To pay this bargain’s price.
An innocent you must bring here
Whose life is at its start
Then lay her on the altar, dear,
And pierce her noble heart
When you’ve done that, I’ll let you see
The secret that I hold,
And you will most assuredly
Start raking in the gold
And once you’ve done it four times more
We’ll both have reached our goals
You’ll have your son back from death’s door
And I’ll have five more souls!”
She offered Carrot Top the knife
But Carrot shouted “NO!”
She swore upon her very life
She’d never sink so low!
“If that’s your stance, dear, I don’t mind
You’re free to walk on out,
Just know that you will never find
A cure for Carrot Sprout.
But should you do right by your son
And child, I think you will,
You cannot stop until you’re done
Once you’ve first made a kill…”
And as she muttered those last words,
She looked up to the sky
A flock of jet black, cawing birds
Came swooping from on high
They covered her from tail to face;
A most disturbing scene,
And when they left, there was no trace
Of any Mare in Green.
Then Carrot Top was wise enough
To quickly run away
And though she’d wheeze and huff and puff,
She didn’t stop ‘til day.