//------------------------------// // Bad, bad company // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// She was beautiful in the way that butterflies were mysterious. Which is to say River Raider's beauty was comparable to how butterflies flew, unknown and incomprehensible. Her laughter—a rare thing—was a treasured sound to his ears. Even covered in filth and soaked with mud, everything about her lit his senses ablaze and Sundance could not help but be smitten. At this moment, so many things happened, but they barely registered in his mind because all of his thoughts were on her.  "That's quite a crowd," Hornet said as she and her companions gained altitude. "Shouldn't we introduce ourselves, or something?"  "No," Megara grunted whilst she slung mud from her limbs. "If we stay and talk with those ponies, we'll never find our ogre. Remain goal-oriented."  "But… it feels more important to get to know the locals," Hornet replied.  "We started off today with a task in mind. As important as it is to get to know the locals, it is even more important to finish what we've started."  "But… Meg… they might tell us where the ogre is," Hornet retorted.  "We'll spend too much time doing questions and answers," Megara snapped back. "That's a lot of ponies that came out to have themselves a look. Too many. We might get invited to lunch… and do you have any idea how hard it is to say no to that many sad faces?"  "Well, I might've found out if you'd've let us stay," Hornet replied. "How can we help them if we don't get to know them?"  "We'll help them by ridding them of that ogre! Now let's skedaddle, Ladybug!"    On the ridge above Sorrow's Fen and a bit off to the east was a forest. Not just any forest, but a forest that bordered the marshes and seemed to stretch all the way to the mountains far south. Somewhere off in that general direction was home. Megara seemed to think that the ogre lived in the woods, and Sundance was inclined to agree. It was but a short climb down the ridge and into the fen, and from there, there were a great many waterways to choose from. Something in his mind, down deep where it sometimes itched, told him that this was the most likely place. The trees would conceal the ogre from flying creatures up above—but there were a lot of trees. An ocean of trees. Trees from horizon to horizon.  But… Megara suspected that he lived close to the ridge.  Sundance hoped so.  Still in some kind of mood, River Raider flew in circles and loops, barrel rolls, and random, sudden drives. Unable to help himself, Sundance watched her. Her joy, if this was joy, was infectious. She was River Raider, the raider of rivers, troll-slayer, and mighty hunter. At least for the moment, she was not the moody, depressed, out-of-sorts chatterbox that he knew her to be. With her wings healed, restored, she was free to fly. Free to hunt. She was free to be herself.  "River, you think that you'll be able to pick up on the ogre's mind?" asked Megara.  "So long as he's not hiding away in some cave underground," she replied.  "That'd be a problem, yes." Scowling, her whiskers quivering, Megara tried to wipe some mud away from her chocolate brown hide, but only made things worse when she smeared it. "I think I see something of a trail going up the cliffside. Over there. See, if you look close, you'll see that it goes behind that waterfall. Pretty good concealment."  "Yeah, I see it," River Raider replied.  Sundance too, also saw it, and he banked so he could go inspect it.  "Good initiative, Sundance. Put those pegasus peepers to work!"  "Laying it on a bit thick, Nutmeg—"  "Shut it, River. Sundance needs encouragement when he does right. How else will he learn?"  "By bleeding when he makes mistakes," was River Raider's response.  "If we do our jobs right," Megara retorted, "he doesn't bleed. We have to keep him safe. That's our job."  "He's not as soft as you assume, Nutmeg. Pegasus ponies are made of sterner stuff. Even the so-called soft ones. A few lumps'll toughen them right up."  "Yeah," Sundance shouted, because it was time to stick up for himself. "We're quick to harden."  "I could've gone all day without hearing that," River Raider said.  Though it took him several seconds to sort it out, he did realise the double-meaning in what he had said—and had very mixed feelings about it. While he wanted to feel bad for what he'd said, he also found it quite funny. A bit too funny, in fact, and he couldn't hold back his laughter, which slipped out in chortles and snorts. Beside him, Hornet—who had her hooves pressed against her cheeks—giggled like an over-excited school filly. The trail was a bit more than expected. Upon his closer inspection, Sundance knew that said trail was not a natural occurrence, but rather, something created. There were hewn logs in places, doing whatever it was that hewn logs did. It was wide enough for a cart, flat enough to be traversable, and even had a rotting wooden rail that survived in a few spots. It was a bit steep, but not too bad, and switchbacked in advantageous places. This was made, though for what purpose was unknown. The quality of the construction was such that it had endured.  "Hey, Meg… come have a look at this," he said to the manticoress. "There's guardrails still. And logs. This was made."  "So it was," she replied as she drew closer.  "Huh, look at that. I bet that's from the old days." River Raider too, flew close. "I'm thinking that cart convoys went up and down the ridge and crossed the fen somehow so that there was access to the river. Lots of wood up here. Maybe a lumber camp? Firewood? Food?"  "I bet our ogre uses it… which means we're close. Keep those eyeballs peeled. We don't know if he has a ranged weapon. Don't wanna be ambushed. Stay alert and watch for trouble… don't get brained. Let's crest this ridge and see what we can see."    Just where did the water go? Whilst he circled, his eyes in search of any detail that stood out, Sundance could not help but wonder where the water went. The river flowed right into the fen, and then there was no more river. The bogs above the ridge poured over the edge, down into the fen below, so a lot of water flowed into the fen. But where did it go? The water had to go somewhere, he reasoned. The laws of nature dictated that the fen should grow in size, but it wasn't that large, all things considered. Oh, it was big enough, but for the amount of water that poured into it, it really should have been so much larger.  So, where did it go?  He thought of the waterfall back home, and how there was a crack in the bottom of the natural basin that acted as a drain. Water that didn't go down the drain flowed through Floodgate's many irrigation channels. In the spring, with the thaw, they had to worry about flooding. But the water could be accounted for. Sorrow's Fen however, was a mystery to Sundance, and it bothered him a great deal that he didn't know where the water went.  This was a hot place, as evidenced by the geysers and steam plumes that rose up out of the boiling, bubbling bog at the top of the ridge. Some of the geysers shot up for one-hundred feet or more. A line of mudpots could be seen on the bog's edge, and the trees closest to the bog were splattered and encrusted with colourful yellow and orange mud. It was almost festive, if it weren't so lethally hot. As for the main waterfall, the water that went over the edge seemed teakettle hot, which is to say that it steamed all the way down until it reached the cold fen below.  Travelling the trail tucked behind the waterfall seemed rather hazardous.  "Sorrow's Fen is one of the lowest elevations in Equestria," River Raider said to him. "Something like over four-hundred and fifty feet below sea level. Froggy Bottom Bogg is similar. All the water collects in these natural drains and then goes down into aquifers down below."  "How do you know this?" he asked, intrigued by this new side of River Raider that he hadn't seen.  "I paid attention in school," she replied. "Well, it's more than that I suppose. After I became the raider of rivers, I developed an obsessive fascination with waterways. And rivers. Go figure. I studied them with the same relentless drive that I have when I hunt. It was the only thing I really had any sort of interest in when I was in school. I couldn't be made to care about anything else."  He nodded and listened.  "This whole area is a big crater," she continued. "The ridge here, and the other ridges, those are all leftover ripples. It's too big to see from where we're at, but if we flew up to the very edge of the sky, where the air is cold and almost nonexistent, you'd be able to see it if I pointed it out. The series of ridges form a natural… well, it is like a staircase. You can see the next ridge from here if you squint. And there's even more between here and the mountains. In all of Equestria's history, nopony has ever settled in this area because the terrain is so unforgiving. From this ridge onward to the mountains, it's all wilderness. Some of Equestria's most dangerous, most hostile wilderness. And it's all yours."  "And that's Tarhollow off in that direction," he said as he pointed in the general direction of the Canterhorn. "The big patch of nothing that exists between my settlement and Lulamoon Hollow. Well, at least I'm starting to learn the names of the regions. That's a good start, I suppose."  "We need to start hunting the ogre!" Megara snapped. "Now look alive! We have prey to eliminate!"    "Fly sneaky," Megara hissed.  To which Sundance replied, "How do I fly sneaky?"  "Well"—the manticoress' voice dropped into an even lower, hissier whisper—"you start by shutting yer yap. Stick close to the trees. Don't present yourself as a target. Don't fly out in the open."  Saying nothing, Sundance flew even closer to the trees, which was no trouble at all. He looked this-a-way, and that-a-way, and for the first time he noticed the broken branches, as if something large had moved between the trees. Something big. Big. Some of the branches were broken off at a good ten feet in height, which didn't seem right to Sundance. Some of the breaks oozed glistening sap, which he guessed meant that they were recent. And the ground… something heavy had recently been dragged over the ground, the signs of which were very much visible.  Quite suddenly, Hornet's flight went completely and utterly silent. There was no buzz, no drone, no nothing from the not-pegasus. It was as eerie as it was creepy. She flitted from tree to tree, moving between the branches, and then, with a flash of green witchfire, she changed colours, becoming a sort of mossy greenish brown—but still in pegasus form. Sundance, now entirely too self-aware of his bright ochre hide, wondered how he might hide himself and wondered if he should've dipped himself in mud.  Megara dropped to the forest floor, and then began to stalk around, making no sound whatsoever. This was somehow even creepier than Hornet, as Megara was far too large a creature to be so terrifically silent. The sound of his own wings flapping concerned Sundance just a bit, because if he could hear them—then so could the ogre. It was worrisome, because quite honestly he didn't want a close encounter with an ogre. Staying down below the treeline kept him far too close to the ground, and Sundance could not help but think of his own fragility.  "I don't sense anything… yet," River Raider whispered. "But I smell him. He passed along this way just recently. Maybe to get water. Also"—she sniffed, and was disgusted—"he passed water right over there."  Mouth dry, his blood coursing through his veins, Sundance wished that he had a better view of things. The trees obscured his vision and he didn't like that, not at all. He moved with slow caution, trying to peer around the branches before revealing himself to some new angle. He flew sneaky, just as Megara had suggested, though he was certain that the pounding of his heart against his ribs would give him away.  "This way." The manticoress gestured with her batlike wing. "Follow the broken branches…"    The ogre, as it turned out, was approximately two ponies tall—but this was because he was hunched in half to pinch a loaf. Grunting and straining, he was clearly having some trouble and right away Sundance knew that the poor creature wasn't getting enough vegetables in his diet. As it turned out, the ogre was quite unlike anything that Sundance had ever seen. Its head was a peculiar mix of dog and bear, with tusks and other boarlike features, including a hog-nosed snout. The ogre had shoulders wider than Sundance was long from nose to tail, and its lumpy, misshapen limbs were as thick as tree trunks.  More than anything else, the ogre—huffing, puffing, and grunting from his mighty bowel-evacuation efforts—was surprised to discover that he had visitors. When he rose to his feet, he was, indeed, at least four Sundances tall, which was about three more Sundances than singular Sundance was prepared to deal with. The companions stared at the ogre, and the ogre back at them. If there was ever an awkward moment too weird for words, this might just be it.  "That'll make for an annoying dingleberry," Megara deadpanned.  "Hrrraaarrrgh!" the ogre hrrraaarrrghed, which was a very ogrish thing to do, and the sort of greeting one received when one interrupted an ogre whilst he pinched a loaf. "Hrook! Hargrargh! Hoo-OO-rargh!"  "Oh yeah?" Megara replied with icy calm. "Yer mother!"  "Nrarghleflarg!" the ogre nrarghleflargged as he charged right for Megara with his dirty ogre paws extended.  The ogre's camp became an impromptu battlefield; Sundance was not ready.  "River and I will keep the ogre occupied. Sundance, see if you can stick a javelin or a dart in him. Don't hit River or I, or there will be Tartarus to pay, and your credit's no good there. Hornet, you keep Sundance safe. Now, let's party!" Flinging herself off to one side, Megara dodged the charging ogre, which missed her by a considerable distance.  Megara landed; she was far too big and bulky to remain airborne in the trees. She bounded this-a-way and that-a-way, staying out of the ogre's considerable reach. Meanwhile, River Raider stayed behind the ogre, and darted in to slash at him with her serrated hooves. While his thick, shaggy hide protected him, some of her strikes drew thin trickles of blood. Hesitating more than a little, Sundance drew a javelin, but then didn't know what to do with it. He needed to be above the ogre, which was a problem. There were so many trees. Not to mention that the ogre kept moving, making every effort to grab the manticoress by the tail, which Sundance felt was an unforgivably stupid thing to do.  But who was he to judge an ogre?  Flapping his wings, Sundance navigated through the leafy canopy until the ogre was beneath him. From up here, he had a somewhat better view of the camp, though the trees still obscured much. There was a pile of smashed carts, wagons, barrels, and wooden crates near a cave, which was really more like a big hole in the ground. Burlap sacks were scattered on the ground, some empty, some partially full. A firepit full of cold ashes was near the cave, and it appeared as though some of the wooden wreckage was used for firewood.  Flying in circles, Hornet remained close, but did not attack. She was ready to defend, no doubt, and wasted no energy. Her close proximity made Sundance feel safe. Gripping his javelin, he watched the fracas down below, hoping for some kind of pattern, but there was none to be seen. Hitting one of his friends seemed a very real possibility; River Raider kept darting in.  But then, as he readied his javelin, she kept her distance. Of course… why hadn't he thought of that? Feeling more than a little stupid, he readied his javelin—and waited for just the right moment. Smoke trailed in thick ribbons from River Raider's nostrils and sparks flew from her open maw. There were branches in the way, and leaves made it difficult to see everything. Sundance hovered, and was patient.  Snarling, hissing, always just out of reach, Megara raked dirt into the ogre's face and then lept away when he flailed his fists at her. The manticoress was faster than she had a right to be for a creature so large and bulky. It was about this point in the battle that Sundance realised that Megara was playing with the ogre. She had to be. He could not understand why she didn't just finish it off, as she was obviously capable of doing. He supposed it was so that he might learn something from this encounter. The prospect of hurling a javelin into another living, breathing, thinking, feeling creature unnerved him and left a curious tingle in his testicles that he didn't care for at all.  He took careful aim, lined up his shot, and hurled his javelin at the ogre…