//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Wawindaji // by Albi //------------------------------// Zecora had never appreciated the extended daylight summer brought until recently. It was already past seven o’clock, and the sun had only just touched the horizon. She enjoyed the extra sunlight, as it meant more time with Sunset. Even though the full moon only came once a month, Sunset preferred going inside after sundown. The two of them walked down the road toward the forest, a backpack slung over Zecora’s shoulder, and her spear hidden beneath her black cloak. She glanced over at Sunset, whose own eyes remained resolutely forward. Her mouth was set in a grim line, and her shoulders were tense. “It will be fine, my love,” Zecora said, taking Sunset’s hand. “You don’t know that,” Sunset said, a sharp edge in her voice. “We’ve gotten lucky so far, but what if—” “Luck has nothing to do with it. We’ve gotten this far on skill and love. You just have to believe in yourself more.” Sunset made a noncommittal grunt. For two months now, they had ventured into the forest on the night of the full moon. Sunset would transform, and Zecora would keep herself close by. Then, Zecora would try to break through to Sunset while she was in her werewolf state, to mixed results. Sunset would growl and snap, sometimes attack. But, Zecora’s skills as a Wawindaji kept Sunset at bay until she ran off deeper into the forest. Zecora would then patrol the forest border until sunrise, making sure Sunset never entered the city. Tonight would be attempt number three, not counting their initial encounter. Zecora had told her parents she would be sleeping over at a friend’s house, even going so far as to have Rarity vouch for her. Rarity in turn thought Zecora and Sunset were going to be up to more… intimate things tonight. Zecora thought to change her mind, but decided, it was probably for the best. Sunset had still not told her other friends about her condition, and Zecora had not even come close to telling her parents she was dating Sunset. Sunset, her magical, pony, werewolf girlfriend from another dimension. Zecora allowed herself a goofy smile. Not even the greatest Seer could have predicted this. They arrived at the edge of the forest, and Sunset wrapped her overcoat tighter around herself. Zecora knew she must be melting underneath it. Summer nights in Canterlot proved to be little better than the day. The air was warm and muggy, with hardly a breeze to be found. Even Zecora found herself gathering sweat underneath her enchanted cloak. The shade from the evergreen trees provided only marginal relief. Zecora used her free hand to wipe her brow, then stuck her tongue out. “Perhaps this heat will make you too lethargic to hunt.” Sunset didn’t smile. “Zecora, call it a freaky werewolf sense, but I really think you shouldn’t come this time.” Zecora stopped, tugging Sunset’s hand to get her attention. Sunset faced her, finding Zecora’s soft smile, yet hard eyes. “I am not leaving you. I promised I would help, so that’s what I’ll do.” “I know! I just…” Sunset took a deep breath. “Fine, I can’t stop you. Just, be extra careful tonight, okay?” “Okay.” Sunset ran a finger across Zecora’s tattoos, then kissed her on the lips. Standing there, under the eaves of the trees, tasting salt and strawberries, Zecora almost forgot why they had come out here in the first place. It felt so natural now, Sunset’s touch and kiss. Zecora could almost block out the supernatural aspects of their lives and just pretend they were two teenagers kissing in the forest. The kiss broke, and the couple resumed their trek, Sunset taking the lead. Soon, they reached the familiar clearing, distinguished by the clawed trees and scraps of bark laying about. The sky had become dark blue tinged with pink on its edges. The sun’s orange rays didn’t penetrate the forest this far in. Zecora took off her backpack and threw it onto a high branch. Extra clothes for the morning. Sunset discarded her coat and laid it against the tree’s trunk. Dressed only in her discardable clothes, she moved to the center of the clearing and sat down. “This is always the worst part.” Sunset’s soft voice carried over to Zecora. “The waiting. Knowing what’s about to happen. Knowing I can’t stop it.” Zecora walked to Sunset’s side and took a knee. “We will get through this. You will get through this. Just focus on me.” “As always, easier said than done.” Sunset let out a grateful sigh as Zecora ran her fingers through her hair. When the tinges of pink left the sky, Zecora stepped back and withdrew her spear. Stars filled the black canvas above them. A white glow just beyond the rim of the trees drove away some of the darkness. Not too long ago, Zecora always welcomed the moon’s light, as it provided guidance and answers. Now, its full face only brought pain. She didn’t want to resent it, but looking at Sunset as she grew tense drew up some feeling of disdain. Sunset’s face became pale. She got to her feet, eyes fixated on the sky. Her whole body went rigid, and Zecora could hear a growl building in her throat. The first ray of the moon broke through the trees, and Sunset let out a pained whimper. If her least favorite part was waiting for the transformation to begin, Zecora’s was watching it happen. Sunset’s face contorted in pain as her body shifted. She cried and groaned while her jaw and spine and legs popped and snapped. Zecora gripped her silver weapon until her knuckles turned white. “Sunset, look at me. Focus on me,” she said, keeping her voice level. Sunset turned her watery eyes down to Zecora. Her elongating snout twisted in pain as she grunted, “I’m trying. Zecora, I—” “Shh, don’t speak. Just look at me.” Their gazes held, even as Sunset dropped onto all fours. Zecora wanted to turn her head, wanted to look away from her girlfriend convulsing in pain, if only because there was nothing she could do to stop it. But if Sunset could bear the physical pain, Zecora could handle the emotional. Sunset finished her transformation as the moon rose over them. She stood back onto her hind legs let out a long howl before dropping her head to Zecora. Her wild hair fell over her face, but Zecora could still see her teal eyes. Sanity flickered in them like a dying candle. Zecora held a hand up. “Be at ease Sunset. You know me. Come now, look into my eyes. You know me.” Sunset stepped closer, eyeing Zecora’s weapon. She bared her fangs and hunched forward, prompting Zecora to take up a defensive stance. “You’re not a monster, Sunset,” Zecora said patiently, “You are a wonderful human being. I know who you are. Do you?” A snarl rose from Sunset’s throat. Her red coat bristled, and she took another threatening step forward. From the hungry glint in her eye, Zecora had a strong feeling she was going to have to fend Sunset off again. A chill went down Zecora’s spine, unrelated to the situation before her. The hairs on her neck stood up, and goosebumps ran up her arms. It was too foreboding to be anything else. Bad juju. And a lot of it. So much of it, in fact, that even Sunset jerked her head away. She sniffed the air, gave a loud howl, then sprinted off into the trees. “Sunset, wait!” Zecora tore after her. For a creature of her size, Sunset moved with incredible speed. With her smashing through the forest, Zecora was given a relatively unobstructed path to follow. She kept her focus on Sunset’s crimson tail, easy to spot, even when the moon hid behind a roving cloud. Zecora had been so hyper focused on keeping up with Sunset, she failed to see the branch whipping back toward her face. It slapped her across the nose with enough force to send her to the ground. Bright spots danced in front of her eyes. She scrambled to her feet and rubbed her nose. “A reminder to be aware of all my surroundings in the dark.” She continued her sprint through the forest. Though she could barely hear Sunset, the paw prints and trampled bushes gave Zecora a good sense of direction. At least, they did until Zecora came to a small crossing, where beast tracks covered the entire ground, and branched out into multiple paths. Zecora closed her eyes and tried to listen for Sunset, but her girlfriend’s snarls and howls sounded like they were coming from everywhere at once. Then… they fell quiet. Zecora snapped her eyes open and held the tip of her spear toward the darkness. Her body shivered, feeling malevolence lurking close by. She steadied her breath and slowly rotated on the spot, straining her eyes to see past the shadows. A branch snapped behind her, and she twirled and readied her spear. “Sunset?” But the eyes peering from the foliage were not a sparkling teal. They were a luminous yellow, angry and hungry. The beast stepped into the clearing, prowling on all fours. It was twice Sunset’s size, all black, and had blood dripping from its muzzle. Zecora stepped back, keeping her blade pointed at the new beast. She looked into its yellow eyes. So much hunger… so much madness. “Please, if you have any humanity left in you, listen to me. I am Zecora, and I—” The werewolf rose onto its hind legs and roared, spittle flying into Zecora’s face. It leapt and swiped at her with jagged claws. She ducked and rolled under them, spinning her staff in hand, and jabbing the butt into the werewolf’s ribs. It barely seemed to register the silver against its skin, growling in agitation rather than pain. It brought its other hand down, and Zecora threw herself backward, landing in a crouch. “I know you do not really want this! Try to remember your humanity!” Either it didn’t hear or didn’t care. It lunged again, snapping with its massive jaws. Zecora swung her staff out and caught it in the mouth, sending it back to the ground. It rolled up and slashed at her with both claws. Zecora deflected the first blow and danced to the right, but two of the monster’s claws tore through her cloak and into her shoulder. The pain burned like fire, spreading down her entire arm. Her grip slaked, and that moment of weakness, the werewolf backhanded her, send her careening into a tree. Zecora slid down onto her bottom, still clutching her spear in her good hand. She looked up at the werewolf stalking toward her. It’s eyes were wide with feral excitement. It’s too far gone. Nothing I say will sway its mind. She could hear her father’s voice, strong but cold. “Monsters have no friends. They love nothing. Killing them is a kindness in the end. It is the only way they can be human once more.” The beast lunged, and Zecora threw her spear up, stabbing the werewolf in the gut. It didn't stop its momentum, though it did throw it off balance. It crashed head first into the tree, giving Zecora time to scramble away. What if this happens to Sunset? What if she loses control completely? The werewolf stood and tore the spear from itself. It roared with fury as it turned to find Zecora. Its eyes now held a hateful glare. But, that’s why we were doing this. To help remind her she was still human. It was working, right? It ran at her, lumbering on its two legs. Zecora flung a wad of dirt and leaves into its eyes as she threw herself out of the way again. Her projectile hit, and the beast howled in irritation, wiping the dirt from its face. But, what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough to help her? Will I have to fight her like this? Possibly to the death? A beast adorned with crimson fur burst from the trees and slammed into the black werewolf. They rolled across the ground, landing with Sunset on top, pressing a paw into her opponent’s throat. The other werewolf knocked her off with a sweep of its arm. It got up and bore down on Sunset, and the two bit and slashed at each other, barking and snarling. The moon came out again, and Zecora saw the light reflect off her discarded spear several feet away. Bracing herself on her good arm, she got to her feet and crept toward it. The black wolf retained more intelligence than Zecora would have guessed, for it pushed Sunset away and charged at Zecora. Sunset, however, threw herself on top of it, taking it to the ground just as Zecora picked up her weapon. She watched the two tussle again, ending with the larger werewolf pinning Sunset to a tree. Ignoring the burning pain in her shoulder, Zecora gripped her spear and moved closer. Can I still reason with it? Or is it truly lost? She looked at Sunset, thrashing in its grasp. Lost or not, she wouldn't let it hurt her beloved. Zecora aimed her blade up and stabbed it into the black wolf’s shoulder. It let out a roar of pain and released Sunset, who quickly tackled it. Zecora ripped her spear out and jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding being flattened. Sunset took advantage of her opponent's injured arm, staying to its left and attacking until she had it pinned on its stomach again, her claws in the back of its neck. Zecora stepped forward and pointed the blade at the black wolf’s snout. Should I do it? Put it out of its misery? But that would prove her father right: Monster’s were savages that needed to be put down. And what kind of message would that send to Sunset? On the other hand, letting this feral werewolf go endangered countless others. Innocent people could get bitten, just like Sunset. The beast bucked Sunset off and got to its feet. Zecora reacted without thinking, slashing her silver blade across the werewolf’s chest. It howled in agony and dropped to one knee, pressing a paw against the blood seeping from the gash. It looked up at Zecora, and she thought she saw something flicker in its eyes. “Leave. Now,” she commanded. “And never come toward the city again.” It stared long and hard at her. Zecora drew herself to full height and narrowed her eyes. She wished she had her mask; she was sure it was more intimidating than her normal face. She continued to lock eyes with the beast, keeping her spear clutched tight in front of her. With agonizing slowness, the wolf got to its feet, snarled something that might have been words, and limped away into the darkness, leaving the forest quiet again. Zecora dropped her spear and sat back in the dirt, pressing a hand to her bleeding shoulder. Waves of pain pulsed down her arm, and her sleeve was soaked in blood. I know not whether what I did was right or wrong. But for now, that is one problem gone. That only left… She raised her head, finding Sunset inching toward her on all fours. Zecora could see open wounds and bite marks all over her body, the blood barely visible against her fur. “Sunset,” Zecora said breathlessly, “you’re not like that one. I know you can still hear me. Please.” Sunset circled her, her teal eyes never looking away. She stopped on Zecora’s left side, next to her injured arm, and put her snout next to the wound. Sunset inhaled deeply and ran her tongue over her teeth. Zecora knew she couldn't raise her spear to Sunset. Sunset was too close now, and Zecora did not have the will. If Sunset wanted to attack, Zecora was at her mercy. She turned away, bracing herself for the bite. A cursed Wawindaji is sentenced to death. What would Baba say? What would I do? Only, the bite never came. Sunset paced around her again, let out a small whine, then rested her head in Zecora’s lap. Zecora opened her eyes and stared. Sunset gazed up at her, a bright light reflected in her eyes. She gave her tail a lazy swish. Something bubbled up in Zecora’s core, slowly building and rising. It emerged as a throaty chuckle, then became a soft giggle, then evolved into jubilant gales of laughter. She tossed her head back and allowed the whole forest to hear her. Tears of mirth and relief ran down her cheeks. She rested her head atop of Sunset, burying her face the wolf’s fur. “See? I knew you could see me.” Sunset made a short, rumbling growl. Zecora chuckled again. Here was the proof. They could coexist. Monster hunter and monster. “How am I going to explain this to Baba?” Sunset just flicked an ear, brushing it against Zecora’s cheek. Zecora nodded and sighed. “You’re right. One step at a time.” For now, she would just enjoy Sunset’s warm aura.