While Grimes’s aching back side might have disagreed, Little Whisper saved his life when she pushed him aside so rudely. The timber wolf dropped right next to Grimes, kicking up a hail of dirt and glass. They were close enough to sneeze on each other. Grimes felt a splash of warmth across his cheek. Blood?
Oh my god, it just killed Whisper. It killed Little Whisper!
The timber wolf, confused, lifted a paw. It cocked its head quizzically. There was only scarred earth and dark soil beneath its paws.
Grimes’s, paralyzed, could only stare in frank terror. His bulging eyes stung the dust in the air. It was only when the beast lifted a shaggy head that Grimes realized just how close they were.
The rank odor of wet decomposition rolled over Grimes, burying him beneath its weight. Thick curds of icky black dripped from the corners of its maw. If Grimes had gotten the chance to eat his lunch, then the timber would’ve been wearing it.
The wolf leaned forward gingerly. Its greedy eyes told the stallion all he needed to know. Here was a new plaything, and within easy reach. Oh, what fun.
Grimes backpedaled, his hooves pawing at the soft earth for purchase. The timber wolf would allow him none. A cavern of sharp teeth yawned opened, ready to snap at the stallion. Grimes had enough time to scream.
The wolf was inches from Grimes’s hide when it happened…
The mighty hand hovered above the two for nary a second before clamping down over wolf’s head. Glowing eyes stared at Grimes through thick cords of furry fingers, astonished. Grimes himself was breathless.
As if it were a naughty puppy, the hand lifted the wolf up. The figure towering over Grimes was a giant, standing nearly ten feet tall. The thing had to be as wide as an apple cart.
Squirming and kicking, the wolf writhed beneath those steely fingers. The giant never hesitated. There came a loud crunch as the massive hand clenched into a fist. Those glowering, iridescent eyes vanishing in a spray of splinters and icor. Grimes watched the wolf go limp before it was thrown unceremoniously.
Grimes marked the arc of the body’s travel in amazement. Scraps of wood and swathes of moss trailed off after it in a flurry, decorating the yard in bits of rubbish. The timber wolf made it to the start of the dirt road before landing in a heap.
Grimes gazed up at his savior. His ears still rang with the screams of his co-workers and the snarls of the timber wolves, but these were distant sounds now. They grew fainter by the second as the fleeing herd made its way to Ponyville.
The looming figure moved closer, and Grimes couldn’t help but cringe. The ape was massive.
While Grimes had seen pictures of such creatures before in school textbooks and wildlife magazines, none of them did the beast justice. The ape had arms like wine barrels and a chest like a barn door. No wonder it had handled the timber wolf so easily.
Grimes was astonished further to see the ape was wearing what appeared to be a uniform of sorts. A blue button down decorated with gold buttons stretched itself over bulging muscles.
“Get up, Grimes,” the ape said. Its voice rumbled like thunder. “There could be more. Get to the house now.”
The shuddering stallion didn’t seem to hear. He stared long into the ape’s large, chestnut eyes. They were expressive and warm.
Grimes's tongue felt numb as he spoke. “Whisper? Is… is that you?”
When ape flinched, Grimes knew he had been right. “Sweet summer sun, it is you! B-but how? I don’t-”
Grimes rose shakily, not waiting for an answer. He would’ve fallen right back down on his flack if Whisper hadn’t been there to steady him. The hand which had popped a wolf’s skull rested on Grimes’s side tenderly.
“No time,” said she. “Might be able to help the others before-”
Whisper trailed off, her gaze narrowing on something behind him. The ape’s coarse fur bristled suddenly. Grimes saw this, saw how the creature’s wide nostrils flared, and felt himself become afraid.
“What? What is it, Whisper?”
That’s when Grimes heard it. Beneath the dwindling chorus of shrieks and snarls, there was the snapping and popping of wood. It sounded like the exploding knots in a campfire.
Grimes followed Whisper’s gaze. At the head of the dirt road, the shambling mound of sticks and shrubbery was moving…
No, Whisper thought, sweet heavens, this can not be happening!
Whisper bared a pair of deadly looking fangs. “Go! Go now!”
Though far from the master of his faculties, Grimes at least managed to conquer the blunt end of his panic. He scrambled towards the Apple’s home on rubbery legs.
Whisper watched after him for only a second, just to make sure he didn’t stumble again, but it was a second she couldn’t afford to waste. The creature was sitting upright when Whisper turned back A single eye glared at her.
The creature’s head had been mulch only moments ago. Whisper watched in horror as fibrous sinews knitted diseased flesh back into place. Through the wreckage of its face, a grisly maw gaped. The beast appeared to be grinning.
Carefully, the timber wolf tried for its feet. Bits and pieces crawled about the length of damaged body, filling in gaps to its anatomy. The wolf regarded the great ape a moment longer before throwing its head back. The beast’s howl nearly deafened Whisper.
Whisper needed only a second to shuffle her wits back in order. Crouching forward, her burly fingers dug furrows into the soft earth. Whisper’s clenched muscles thrummed with power.
The ape exploded skyward. She was up and clearing the distance in an instant. The ground shook as Whisper landed atop the wolf.
Inside of the Apple’s home, windows rattled in their frames and silverware shook within their draws. The family of farmers were all eyes as they stared at one another… waiting for what came next.
The wrath of a hundred wasps set themselves upon Whisper's hands and feet. She stumbled sideways off the remains of the wolf, her teeth flashing in a grimace of pain. Lacerations peppered the soft meat of her palms and feet. Whisper could feel the bits of wooden shrapnel buried within the woods.
Lifting her hands, she marveled at the stream of greenish blood trickling down her arms. This wasn't the time for shock, however. Clenching her fists, Whisper allowed the pain to spur her anger. She looked down at the wolf. It lay where she had squashed it, like a twitching pancake… but it wouldn’t be for long.
The ape went into a flailing frenzy. One fist pummeled mercilessly while the other scooped handfuls of the beast. Whisper flung handfuls of twigs and mulch to the wind. The deceased icor of the wolf and the green life blood of the changeling rained down all around them.
Whisper had nearly scattering the timber wolf to all corners of the yard when she heard a howl drifting over the din of her carnage.
The great ape glanced about cautiously. Whisper had managed to kick up a mighty cloud of dust in her rump. Not trusting her eyes, Whisper lifted her head to sniff at the air. Another other day, the farm would’ve smelt like farm animals, sweating ponies, and ripe apples. But now… blood, death, and…
Whisper groaned. The wind sweeping down from the orchard carried the sickly smell of the timber wolves with it.
Half turning to the big house, Whisper thought of making a break for it. While the the strength of this form was immense, Whisper feared she might not have the energy to wield it much longer. Thrashing the one wolf had left Whisper winded and panting. Transforming into something so large had taken more out of her than she had expected it would. Made sense. When was the last time she had needed to transform into something larger than a pony?
The damned thing was strong enough to snap Able’s spine. What could a pack of them do to a house?
Whisper was still wrestling with these thoughts when she saw the iridescent glow of eyes cutting through the dusty haze. She didn’t need to see to know that she was facing the orchard.
The air came alive with the sound of a snapping twigs and rustling leaves. It was as if the whole orchard was alive and quickly crawling towards her.
“No,” Whisper moaned. Her wide chest hitched once, then twice. It felt as if she couldn’t breath.
“Please, just n-”
The first timber wolf lept forth in a whirlwind of swirling leaves. Curds of black ick flew as it charged. There were more, but it seemed this one had a head start on them.
Whisper’s decision had been made for her it seemed. Baring her teeth, Whisper rushed to meet the wolf. Three loping steps brought the ape halfway to the snarling predator.
The wolf rose, meaning to pounce, but Whisper drove it back to the ground. It’s head detonated beneath her knuckles like a grenade. Her hand was now wore a slick glove of warm blood.
Thankfully, the beast’s comrades were just as subtle. Whisper’s ears rang with their pattering feet. With the dust settled, she could clearly see the next contender advancing upon her.
No time to think. Whisper grabbed the felled wolf by one foreleg, first lassoing it up and then bringing it down. She was just in time. The impact of the blow reverberated up Whisper's arm.
Both wolves shattered upon impact. Squinting against the spray of wood chips and moss, Whisper saw parts of the wolves fly in all directions. The only thing left mostly intact from them was the leg in Whisper’s grip.
Panting, the ape stumbled back a few steps. She didn't need herself tripping on a thick length of branch.
Hefting the remains of her makeshift club with both hands, Whisper readied herself for the next challenger. She needn't wait long. A third wolf was running head long, cutting a clear path through its broken comrades and scattering their twitching remains. This saved Whisper some trouble at least.
Batter up. Whisper whacked the speeding wolf like a fast ball.
For all their ferocity and blood lust, the timber wolves were still nothing more than sticks and stones. There was a resounding crunch and then a flurry of flying limbs as Whisper sent the wolf back to the orchard. She shaded her eyes against the sun to watch it fly. Hearing it crash down somewhere in the distance made Whisper savagely happy.
What a short lived triumph it was. Destroyed and dismantled, the wolves were already pulling themselves back together.
The second wolf was dragging itself up by its claws. While it might've been weighed down by its smashed hind legs, Whisper could see they were gradually straightening out. It wouldn’t be long before the wolf would be back on all fours.
Whisper shook her head. What a chore this was going to be.
Steely arms swinging, Whisper made her way over to the injured wolf. With a quick crack she twisting snarling head free from its body. A second later, the headless wolf was sent sailing to the orchard after its counterpart. Blinking sweat from her eyes, a rictus grin spread from one stubby ear to the next.
That’s for Able, you bastards. The thought alone compelled Whisper to turn her head, to look upon the dead friend strewn out some yards away. She forced herself not to.
The door to the Apple’s home swung open. There was a resounded bang as it struck the house. A wide eyed and shaking Grimes stood in the doorway, the wolves black ick smeared across his left cheek. Behind him was the filly, Applebloom. She had a mouthful of his tail and was tugging frantically.
“Come on!” Grimes called. “Whisper, you’re clear! Get to the house!”
Whisper spun around. The shock at seeing her friend lasted only for a second. It was the dire severity in his eyes that spurred Whisper onwards. If only either of them had seen the shadow lurking behind the ape.
Whisper had only taken two steps when the wolf leapt on her. A dozen fiery needles sank into her back. Grimes’s blood ran cold as he heard the ape’s screams. It was like hearing a bulldozer in the midst of childbirth
While rows of stone teeth sank into the fleshy bit of meat between Whisper’s shoulder blades, four sets of mercilessly claws gored trenches into her back. In only seconds her blue uniform was torn to bloody rags.
Whisper wheeled around, flailing and cursing wildly. “Mother of fuck! Get off my fucking back, asshole!”
Under better circumstances, Alabaster would’ve been proud.
While the sheath of muscle on Whisper’s back was hard and compact, cords of flesh were being stripped by the second. She reached around to grab the wolf by its head. However, those thick, burly arms bulged with muscles larger than a pony’s head. Whisper found she could only get her hand a little ways past her shoulder before it stopped. That snarling, biting maw was inches away from her fingers.
Grimes watched on in horror. Seeing the growing pool of green at Whisper’s feet, Grimes was thankful once again that he hadn’t eaten.
Turning around, Grimes yelled for someone. A second figure emerged beside Applebloom seconds later. Grimes found himself pushed aside once again. Big Macintosh was a pony and a half, and there was no way both stallions would be able to occupy the doorway.
Peering up into the farm pony’s eyes, Grimes pleaded with him. “That’s Whisper, Big Mac. Don’t ask me how, it just is. But we have to help her! She’ll be torn apart if we don’t!”
Big Macintosh glanced from the screaming ape in the yard to his tiny cousin. Grimes whined.
“Do something, damnit! Please! There's not much time!”
If Macintosh had been a pony of deeper thought, or of lesser grit, than things might’ve gone differently for Little Whisper and the Apples. As it was, Macintosh saw the fear and truth in Grimes streaming eyes. This was enough for him. Heart jackhammering in his chest, the tall stallion started out across the porch.
Macintosh only spared his family one final glance. “Stay.”
Applebloom spat out Grimes’s tail and starting off after her brother. Grimes had just enough time to catch the filly. This didn’t stop Applebloom's cries from chasing after Macintosh.
“Big Mac, what the hay do you think you’re doing! You get back here right now before I tell Granny! Big Mac! Big Maaac!”
Macintosh ignore her.
The great ape was on its knees now, sweat pouring down her contorted face in rivers. Whisper was pawing at her back in vain. So wracked with pain was she that she had no idea when her world flipped sideways. Whisper opened her eyes to see she was face down on the ground.
Positioning himself behind the ape, Macintosh had bucked the wolf as if it were an apple tree. The blow disintegrated the timber wolf from the shoulders up. Macintosh cried out as sharp debris showered his back legs.
While Macintosh expected the cuts on his legs, Whisper slowly lifted herself to her feet. She shrugged off the limp body, grimacing as she did so. Macintosh’s eyes grew wide, first at the mere size of the ape and secondly at the gashes racing along Whisper’s back. It looked as if old splitfoot had went after her with hell’s own weed wacker.
Whisper turned slowly. She gave Macintosh a small, grateful smile.
“T-thanks.” The voice was low and labored. “I owe you, Big Mac.”
Macintosh could only nod.
“Guys! They’re getting up!” This was Grimes. Applebloom joined her screams along with his own.
“Ya’ll get your flanks in here NOW!”
But was running even an option? Both of our combatants could here the crackling of reforming wood and the snapping of hungry muzzles.
Whisper and Macintosh glanced behind them to see one of the wolves up and moving. Half of its face was mulch, but the other half was pulled back into butcher’s grin.
Whisper sighed.