"You know… I can't believe he ate the whole thing."
"Meg… thinking that pegasus ponies eat like birds… that's tribalist. Kinda rude."
"I was thinking it, not saying it. Saying it is rude, River. If I didn't have somepony announcing my otherwise private thoughts, everything would be fine."
"But thinking it, that's rude…"
"You know what's rude—"
"Girls… girls… save it for the ogre."
"Ladybug just called us out, Meg."
"She did. No fear. Bold little buggo."
Swaying from side to side, Sundance tried not to think too much about flying. Starting off would be rough, of that there could be no doubt—but in an hour or two, he would be peckish. Which was the last thing one should feel when one's eating habits were compared to that of birds. Mashed potatoes, as it turned out, made for excellent sandwiches, and he planned to eat another one as soon as equinely possible. Ears back, eyes wide, he peeled his lips back from his herb-flecked teeth and belched.
River Raider's mane was blown away from her face and tangled around her ears.
He didn't think he had it in him; it was supposed to be just a little belch, something to ease the pressure, but what came out was a foghorn blast that rattled the plates and glasses on the table. Slowly, eyes narrow with menace, River Raider turned her shaggy head to scowl at him. He grinned at her, sheepish and submissive, and just as he started to apologise, a second belch—somehow far more fearsome than the first—escaped him.
"That was surprisingly hot wind," the massive brute of a mare remarked as her mane once more resettled into a new unkempt style. "Kindly keep it to yourself."
"'Scuse me."
"There is no excuse for you," River Raider said as she flicked her ears to get them untangled from her windswept mane. "Disgusting."
"Is it tribalist to talk about gassy pegasus ponies?" asked Megara.
"Not at all," River Raider deadpanned in response. "Not at all."
The tracks down below stretched like a serpentine road into the eastward unknown. Not one set of tracks, no, but three. Sundance didn't understand why there were three, nor did he question it. Two of the tracks were somewhat close together, and the third were set some distance away. Off to his right were the Foal Mountains, a truly majestic sight. To his left was a majestic primal forest, rolling hills, and broad, mighty rivers.
It was great to be out and with such fine company.
Hornet flew about like a sugar-and-caffeine addled bumblebee, zooming to and fro in short, straight lines. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself and Sundance reminded himself that she'd grown up in a lab, some secretive secured location. So she was seeing the world and all of the beauty that said world had to offer. As for Sundance himself, he too was seeing new parts of Equestria, and a part of him wondered what was over the yonder horizon.
Down below, there were a series of billboards along the third tracks, and the first one caught Sundance's eye. "In just four-hundred furlongs, your life will change," he read as he flew overhead. Furlongs? He had no clue what a furlong was, but he knew that Central Equestria was a bit behind the times. His own barony was proof of that. Ponyville had thatched roof cottages. But what was a furlong? And what could possibly change his life? The sign said to keep going east which he was already doing.
Since they were moving along at a reasonable speed, it wasn't long until the second billboard along the tracks came into view. Sundance zoomed down to have a look, because his brain demanded some kind of stimulation during his eastward flight. This billboard had a drawing of an old windmill, and beside it was bold, blocky text.
"Does the city vex thee?" Sundance read aloud. "Fly east."
Well, the billboards were somewhat compelling, but also a bit cryptic. He was flying east already, due to business with a certain ogre. Was he vexed by a city? He didn't know. What could possibly be east that would help a pony vexed by the city? What did it mean to be vexed, anyhow? And for that matter, what was a furlong? Taken together as a whole, this was just a bit weird—and Sundance found himself reluctantly intrigued.
"All this beautiful wilderness," Megara said with disappointment thick in her voice, "and somepony had to put up all these billboards. Shameful!"
There were, in fact, a lot of billboards. A series of them told a limerick about eating supper in Celestia's Grindhouse Mill, which was apparently the old windmill seen in pictures. Sundance had been putting the pieces together, because it gave his mind something to do. It was an inn. But also a restaurant. And a museum. It was a trackside attraction out in the middle of absolute nowhere. But, Sundance surmised, it had to be popular if it had the budget to afford all these billboards.
The mystery of the third track revealed itself and Sundance saw a pony heading in the direction of Halfhill Hub on a crank cart. So… that was how batches of goods got moved. It gave him ideas, it inspired him. If he had the tracks, he could use crank carts to move goods. But he had no tracks. He spied baskets of fruits and vegetables and other goods in wooden crates. What if another pony with a crank cart was going in the other direction? Tracks clearly had their limitations, but still might prove useful.
"We have to stop at Celestia's Grindhouse Mill," River Raider said as she gestured at a distant billboard with her hoof.
It would seem that Sundance wasn't the only one reading the advertising.
"We can't," Megara said in response.
"Yes we can," River Raider retorted. "We can and we will."
"What's got you so worked up?" Megara demanded.
"Equestria's smelliest, most dangerous cheese. I need to get my nose next to that."
"Cheese?" Megara seemed genuinely confused. "We're stopping for cheese?"
"Not just any cheese!"
Was… was River Raider actually excited about something?
With a burst of speed, he flew closer to the distant billboard, because he couldn't make out what it said. River Raider's eyes were truly spectacular, if she could read this from so far away, and Sundance could not help but feel just a teensy-weensy bit envious. But he was a faster flier, and more agile in the air as well. At least, he thought he was. He was pretty certain that he was.
When the letters came into focus, he read the words aloud.
"Come and see Equestria's most dangerous and most aged cheese. Too dangerous to be kept in populated cities, Equestria's most dangerous and most aged cheese was moved out to Celestia's Grindhouse Mill, where it is now kept in an airlocked vault. Don't delay, come visit today!"
"We have ogre business."
"Meg, we're stopping." Though a bit fearful, a bit anxious, and almost breathless from trepidation, Sundance put his hoof down—in a manner of speaking, of course. "This is the first time I've seen River happy and excited about something. I'm pretty sure that you forced her into doing this, so this is her compensation."
"But—"
"No buts," he said before Megara could finish.
"Fine, but we're only stopping to see the cheese, and not the rest of this tourist trap museum." Something about Megara's tone suggested extreme agitation and annoyance. "We have to stop and look at cheese? Really? It's probably just a gimmick of some kind to lure in the stupid."
"We have to hurry," River Raider said as she looked eastward. "I wanna see the cheese!"
"Well… it is in the general area where we need to find the ogre. Maybe we can ask around and see if anypony has spotted our prey. That actually seems pretty reasonable and we—"
"I wanna see the cheese too!" Hornet cried. "Must be stinky if they have to keep it in a vault! I bet it smells bad!"
All of Megara's resigned stoicism came out in one heaved sigh.
"This could bring us together as a team," Sundance suggested.
"Ugh, don't start," Megara replied as she drew closer to where he hovered. "Daylight is in short supply. We're not going home until that ogre is found. Which means we're sleeping under the stars tonight, if necessary. Keep that in mind while you're looking at some old tourist trap cheese."
"Sleeping… in the wild?" His full stomach suddenly flip-flopping, Sundance took a moment to allow this to sink in. "With dangerous predators?"
"It'll bring us together as a team," Megara said with a snarky sneer. "Dangerous predators." She snorted with disgust whilst she gave Sundance a sardonic, almost scornful squint. "Just what do you think River and I are? If there's anything in these wilds more dangerous than us, I'd like to see it."
"Oh, camping!" Hornet seemed enthusiastic, until she wasn't. "Oh, wait. We're already camping back home. It's not very fun. If we're out overnight, there won't be Madam Bedbug's story hour. Having some second thoughts about this cheese business—"
"We're going to see the cheese!" River Raider roared, and then with a powerful flap of her wings, she departed with considerable speed.
Sundance watched her go for a short time, then said to the others, "I've never seen her happy or excited about anything… I don't think. If we have to sleep outside, that's a small price to pay. Out of all of us, River's the one that needs a little happiness the most. We owe her that."
"He's right, you know," Hornet said to Megara. "River is a very sad creature."
"Right. Fine. Fine. Let's get going. Let's just get this over with…"
Sundance was lost to aghast silence as he gazed upon the terrible beauty of Princess Cornlestia. An alicorn, with an emphasis upon the corn part. Her beautiful wings and feathers? Corn husks and corn silk. But it was her smile that captivated him most of all. Corn of all colours, from blue to white, formed her teeth. Try as he might, Sundance could not look away from this corny blaspheme. It would haunt him for the rest of his days, this shellacked monstrosity made of corn-leavings. Her mane—a pastel rainbow of dyed corn silk— swayed invitingly in the breeze and her tail was clotted with spiderwebs.
Celestia's Grindhouse Mill (no mention of the word princess) was a peculiar place. There were ponies here—though not many—and it was in good enough repair that it was obvious that a steady flow of visitors came here. There was a train stop, a rail platform for cargo, and even a sizable warehouse, which led Sundance to believe that this was a sort of hub for the immediate area.
The visitors were rather obvious, as they gawked at the sights to see, and the locals could be spotted as well. There were earth ponies here, most of which had corn-related cutie marks. A sort of corn cult that worshipped Cornlestia the Alicorn Princess. Sundance had no frame of reference for this weirdness, nothing he'd encountered in his short life could be compared to what he now saw.
Come autumn, there would be Equestria's largest corn maze—a maize maze—which promised to be amazing.
A sign suggested that tickets should be reserved now, before it was too late.
Too late for what, Sundance wondered.
From Princess Cornlestia's husky nether regions came a fat-bodied spider, who came out to maintain her web. What absurd horror was this? Eyes wide, Sundance watched as the spider did her spider chores and tidied up her web a bit. Maybe she was showing off for visitors. When he tried to back away, he bumped into Megara, who grunted before she stepped aside.
"This was a mistake," the mighty manticore said to her companion.
Nodding, Sundance replied, "Perhaps it would have been for the best if we'd gone to find the ogre."
"Do you smell that?" asked Megara.
Fearful, Sundance paused, and after much hesitation, he sniffed through his flared nostrils. Something beyond weird and evil lurked here. While he didn't smell it right away, he smelt it now. There was a supreme foulness that lurked just beneath the aromas of popcorn and hot fried corn fritters. It slithered up his nose and wormed its way into his brain. With a whimper, Sundance shuddered whilst he attempted to sort out just what sort of ruinous reek had just invaded his nose.
"Is that… is that the cheese?" he dared ask. "Is the nightmare real?"
"I think it might be," was Megara's muttered response.
"River Raider and Hornet are in there right now," he said as he turned his head to look at the old windmill that was now a museum.
"Be glad that you are not with them."
While there was no comfort, no reassurance in the manticore's words, Sundance was glad to hear them. He sniffed again—and immediately wished he hadn't. A single tear welled up in the corner of his eye and he shook his head as he tried to shake the stench out of his nose. Now that he had noticed, he could not un-notice this cursed, malodorous miasma, this perverse putrescence.
"Do you really think that the cheese was made from the befouled milk of necromantic Grogar-worshipping cultist goats?" he asked as he tried to remember all of the claims made by the signs along the way.
"Maybe." Whiskers a-quivering, Megara tilted her head off to one side and sniffed. After a few cautious sniffs, she recoiled in disgust, and then she shouted, "Phew!"
Now in a hurry to leave, Sundance hoped his companions would hurry up.
"Come on, Sundance. Let's ask around about this ogre. I think we're close enough that somepony here might've seen him. Let's get to know the locals and see if we can help them. They're your neighbors, after all. Your barony is right on the other side of those tracks."
"Right," he replied, his brain addled and or curdled from the cheese-stink. "We should help them."
A long shimmering ribbon of slick, shiny drool dangled from the corner of River Raider's mouth. Of course, Sundance said nothing, but his brain offered many interjections. Surely, River Raider knew what his brain was up to, but out of politeness or kindness, neither of them said a thing. For this, he was grateful. Aside from all of this, River Raider smelt bad, and he kept quiet about this as well.
As for Hornet, she seemed unphased, perhaps because of illusion.
"Alright, here's the situation," Megara said now that they were all together. "Locals say the ogre makes raids on the corn convoys and any farms he comes across. Apparently, Sundance here has corn farmers squatting on his lands. He has a broad hunting range, and we could find him anywhere. One of the pegasus ponies had an idea of where the ogre calls home, so we'll be having ourselves a good look in that region."
"Uh, I'm kind of worried," Sundance said. "That same pegasus said that the ogre was four ponies tall."
"Nonsense." Megara almost spat out the word. "You little ponies are little skittish creatures. Everything is bigger than you are, and you tend to exaggerate how big things are when you're afraid. The ogre can't be twelve feet tall. That's an embellishment. The biggest ogre I've ever encountered was about seven feet or so, and he was so slow and lumbering that he wasn't much of a threat."
Though he held his tongue, he wanted to argue with Megara's mathematics. Not all ponies were three feet tall. Some of them were a good four feet in height and that wasn't so little, not at all. If you stacked four of those ponies on top of each other, you would have an ogre that was sixteen feet tall. Something about Megara's assumption that ponies were on the shorter side just bothered him, and he tried to stand as tall as possible.
As he did so, River Raider raised her head and looked down at him, her ribbon of drool still dangling.
"Sumac told you about the squatters. I know this because he told me that he told you." Eyes now narrow, whiskers a-quiver, something was clearly bothering poor Megara—most likely the smell. "Occasionally, I fly out this way and have a look. But there's too much land and not enough me. I can't keep track of all the new arrivals."
"Don't feel bad," Sundance said to her, "because it seems that I can't either. I've been so focused on our southern tracks and getting the depot established down there that I haven't even thought about everything up this way."
"Yeah, well, that needs to change. And it does so today. You'll be doing these ponies a service, Sundance."
He nodded.
"Savage Ridge stretches to the south of here. It is a raised elevation and Tarhollow lies beyond. All of the wetlands and marshes drain off of the ridge, forming a fertile patch of land down here. Ponies are naturally drawn to this area… and so is the ogre and everything else that likes to snack on ponies. If I had to guess, we'll find the ogre on the ridge itself. Lots of caves. And boiling springs. Easy to cook meat… if he cooks at all. But the hot springs and steam vents will help him endure the winter, so that's likely where he'll be. That's where we'll focus most of our search, methinks."
"That seems reasonable, Meg."
"Thanks, River."
"Now… one final word before we go…" Megara's words trailed off and caused a horrible sense of dreadful anticipation. "Savage Ridge is known for trolls. A whole lotta trolls. While trolls can live in marshes and wetlands and bogs, they don't like it. There's parasitic moss that feeds on them. Savage Ridge is the outer edge of a natural basin, and it's a moist place, but not a swampy place. What little intelligence I have on the area says it is absolutely infested with trolls. Lousy with trolls. And our ogre won't be in an area swarming with trolls. He'll be in a place where trolls can't reach. Or can't go. At least, that's likely. I can be wrong."
Sundance gulped, shook his head, then said, "Trolls…"
"I'd be more worried about the mosswalkers—"
"What in Equestria is a mosswalker?" Sundance demanded.
"A troll thoroughly consumed by parasitic moss," Megara replied. "They live deep in bogs and marshes and swamps. Big fuzzy things. Green. Mossy. Ferocious."
At a loss for words, Sundance tried to calm himself, and failed.
"Ah, the miracle of magical life. Mosswalkers attack trolls, rip them to pieces, infest those pieces, and new mosswalkers are made. They do keep the troll population in check, but then you have to worry about the mosswalkers. Not much eats them. Nasty, nasty creatures."
"And an ogre is camping out in the middle of all this nastiness?" asked Sundance.
"Well, that's what ogres do," Megara replied. "And owlbears, and mosswolves, and all manner of nightmarish flora and fauna. A veritable treasure trove of dangerous wildlife."
"Oh bother…"
"Well then, let's be going. We have a lot of ground to cover!"
There was a fertile valley down below and a ragged ridge off to his right. Sundance surveyed all he saw and he kept an eye out for an ogre. If not an ogre, then what might be signs of an ogre—though he had absolutely no idea what those might be. There was a lake at the top of the ridge, a slimy, mucky, gooey lake choked with clots of green goop. Some of the water from the lake spilled over the edge of the gap-toothed ridge and flowed down into the fertile valley.
This was the general location where the hospital might be built.
It was wild. Untamed. While a few farms dotted the landscape, it was mostly trees with a patchwork of meadows. Why were there meadows? What made the trees stop growing and allowed the meadows to form? For Sundance, this was a great mystery, something that tickled his imagination. These trees were mostly trees with white bark. He didn't know the name of them, but he found them quite beautiful.
"Look, Sundance… a hydra." As she spoke, Megara pointed with one extended claw.
Turning his head, it didn't take him long to spot the enormous creature. Five heads poked up out of the water of the scummy lake. From a distance, the hydra didn't seem so large—but looks were deceiving. While the heads and necks only appeared a few inches tall from this distant perspective, up close they would be big enough to swallow him whole. It occurred to him that he had a lake with a hydra in it, a fact that made him feel curiously small and humble.
"Hydras are omnivores, surprisingly enough," Megara said to Sundance as they flew. "They eat trolls. And mosswalkers. They also eat owlbears and other big predators. Their diet is mostly megafauna and megaflora. That hydra is probably doing you a favour and trimming back the dangerous troll population. Some ponies speculate, my father included, that a hydra's diet of trolls allows for their rapid regeneration. It is a hotly debated topic amongst naturalists."
With his head still turned off to his right, Sundance watched as the five heads all submerged and vanished into the sludgy water. From this far away, the hydra didn't seem so dangerous. It was just minding its own business and trying to survive. But, if a hospital were built in this general location, a hydra would be an unwelcome visitor. With acute sadness, he realised that such a creature might have to be hunted down, and it would fall upon his own withers to give the order.
Suddenly, and quite without warning, the construction of the hospital didn't seem like such a simple thing. There was complexity yet unaccounted for. Things he didn't have answers for. But things he needed to have a good think about. He began to suspect that Megara had an ulteriour motive for the ogre hunt, that it was just an excuse to lure him out this way. What did she expect from him? Or, perhaps it wasn't her. Perhaps it had more to do with Sumac, or Pebble—or possibly somepony that he had no awareness of at all.
"There's no signs of a large ogre smashing a path through the trees," River Raider said. "Things that large leave a trace of their passing. I ain't seen nothing. While the rest of you are sightseeing, I've been busy trying to track our prey… and my eyes say that he doesn't exist. Which means, in no uncertain terms, that we're dealing with a clever ogre."
"Impossible," Megara spat out. "Ogres aren't clever."
"Neither are manticores, Meg. They're big stupid brutes, but they make nice rugs."
"Why I oughta—"
River Raider interrupted with, "Shut up and think before saying something dumb?"
"Yeah, I oughta do that. Alright. So… for the sake of argument, if we have a clever ogre, how is he travelling through this area without leaving a trace of his passing?"
"I dunno, Meg… but it bothers me. I don't like the idea of a clever ogre. Not at all. They're big. Brutish. Typically, they just plow right through the area in a straight line, smashing and bashing at things in their way. You'll find broken trees and paths ripped through the vegetation. But down below… there's nothing. Nothing at all. If there's an ogre here, and I know for certain that those ponies weren't lying, there should be something to mark his passing."
"You seem bothered, River."
"You're damn right I'm bothered, Meg. Clever ogres are scary."
"So… ogres leave behind visible trails… mostly straight lines?" asked Sundance as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.
"Yeah," River Raider replied.
"And if you spot enough of those trails, you can use the straight lines to figure out where the ogre lives, can't you?" he asked.
With a nod and a grunt, River Raider responded, "You know, Sundance… you might not be considered smart, but you're canny and competent. Sometimes… sometimes… canny and competent are better than smart. You examine the lines and then try to determine where they might intersect."
"He's using the creeks and rivers," Hornet said.
Again, River Raider grunted, and this time she sent a snort of smoke trailing out of her nostrils, which then vanished into her mane. "Huh. I hadn't considered that. So we want a suitable lair location near a water source that branches off into a bunch of waterways, I guess?"
"It's what I would do," Hornet said, her voice unusually subdued and maybe just a little bit sad. "If I had to infiltrate an area, and I wasn't allowed to fly, I would shapeshift into an aquatic animal and attempt to use the water to my advantage. I… I don't know how I know this. Or why it seems so obvious to me. But I feel bad for thinking about it."
"Don't feel bad," Sundance said to the unsettled changeling. "Don't be sad or upset about what you are. You just saved us a lot of trouble. Probably. This doesn't make you a bad bug. This knowledge doesn't make you bad. It's what you do with it." He cleared his throat, focused his thoughts, and flew closer to Hornet. "Where would you hide if you didn't want to be found, Hornet? If you see a location that makes you start thinking, you tell us. Alright?"
She nodded, then replied, "Can do."
"Sundance is right," River Raider said to Hornet. "Don't be ashamed to use your innate abilities for good. You are a changeling. You are an infiltrator. That is your nature… but it doesn't make you bad. Right now, you have a chance to save lives. You can do it. All of today, you'd been blocking stuff out to help shield my mind and it's been great. Not perfect, not yet, but it's made a difference. I'm actually enjoying myself for once. You… you can make a difference. Be a better 'ling."
"Don't be a ding-a-'ling." Hornet inhaled, green witchfire flashed around her equine form, and her expression became one of steadfast determination. "We should find farmhouses and farms near waterways. Which are probably most farms, because they need water. If I'm right, they might know something about our ogre. So we should ask around."
"I like this," Megara said. "Sundance… you have a precious asset. Let's see what she can do… and you as well. Let's go find us a farmhouse!"