//------------------------------// // Feeding Time // Story: A Pup Named Fenrir // by MisterEdd //------------------------------// The party wound down at about ten, leaving only myself, the Element Bearers, which was the name of their merry little band, and their respective pets. Winona had not spoken to me since I revealed my true identity, every now and then casting a look in my direction and making mindless chatter. I decided to give her space and consoled myself via some unattended cupcakes. I was still feeling hunger-and a tad upset-so I also devoured a sizable chunk of cake. And by "sizable chunk," I mean a wedge approximately ten-by-twenty inches in diameter.  I'm a bit of a nervous eater.     The remaining party-goers excitedly recounted events from the day, laughing and prattling on about topics that ranged from mighty adventures to mundane actions. I purposefully tuned out the run-of-the-mill details, only listening to the more spicier tales like when Fluttershy stopped a full-grown dragon by scolding him or when Rarity pretended to be a yokel in order to impress a rather unremarkable-sounding stallion. Rainbow Dash found this so humorous that she ended up spitting out her punch onto Rarity's face, punch dribbling down an unamused expression and pooling around her hooves. When Rarity whined about having just had them manicured earlier that afternoon, everyone else burst into wild cackling. I watched them enjoy themselves from behind the counter, a small stash of sugary treats gathered into a pile.     I was soon brought into a memory I'd forgotten: the feast of the Svartalfar's defeat, an event that happened so many moons ago that I can barely believe that it really happened. There had been some kind of large battle waged in Svartalfheim and the conquering heroes were holding a world-wide feast to commemorate their victory. The Svartalfar, or "Dark Elves," who were, in fact, much scarier than their names suggested, had finished a successful raid on Vanaheim and were planning to strike at the Dwarf realm of Niðavellir, the location of several armories loyal to the Aesir. Somehow, Odin caught wind of this scheme and sent Thor and Tyr to deal with them, resulting in a crushing defeat for the Dark Elves and added glory to the two gods' reputation. Had the Dark Elves been successful, they might have actually had a chance to attack Asgard and become the new rulers of the Nine Worlds, a truly frightening prospect to consider. All over Asgard, the people rejoiced, contributing their continued survival to Thor and Tyr, as well as their armies of brave warriors. You would've been hard-pressed to find a hovel that wasn't alive with the sounds of jubilation. From the most magnificent dwellings, to the most humble of abodes, everyone drank, danced, and hollered with joyful ecstasy. No celebration, however, was greater than the banquet being held at Valhalla, the golden palace of Odin Allfather himself. The sounds of fiddles, drums, flutes and horns reverberated so loudly throughout Valhalla that the music could be heard miles away.  Inside, was truly where the wonders awaited for me. Over a roaring fire, two men spit-roasted the bear-sized pig Sæhrímnir, a third pouring thick globs of herb-infused honey over it. The halls boomed with the chatter and guffawing of armored men, raising their drinking horns in drunken toasts as their merriment spread from longhouse to longhouse. A few reenacted their battlefield feats, both real and imagined, with a few of their compatriots aiding them by miming the events. It was the food that I craved most of all, their paradisiacal scent taunting me with promises of pleasure I would've traded anything for just to have a single bite. Valkyries, fearsome female warriors and spirit-guides for the slain, served a seemingly never-ending supply of mead for the warriors, some of whom decided to woo the valkyries to various degrees of success. One poor fool made the mistake of groping a valkyrie's behind and was rewarded with a punch that sent the man crashing over a table and rendering him completely unconscious. A few bawdy jokes were exchanged between the man's friends before they were silenced by the valkyrie's cold stare and they all conveniently moved onto another topic of discussion. Nearby, a young, arguably handsome warrior was more serendipitous as a giggling valkyrie was hanging off of his shoulders, the warrior's hands roaming her back and waist as he whispered sweet-nothings into her ear. A group of sullen figures eyed the two from their spot in the corner, glaring at the warrior and his future conquest. Following the stable-boy incident, I'd been relegated to being confined to the stables, a leather muzzle strapped to my face and thin chain secured around a wooden pillar keeping me in place. The boy's father demanded that I be killed, to avenge the lad's disfigurement and, quote, "Put that miserable little bastard out of his misery," unquote. Tyr, being the impartial peacekeeper that he was, instead opted to lock me up and pay the father a weregild, or compensation, to settle the matter, which turned out to be an exorbitant amount of gold. Despite the payment, the father walked out with a glare that told me that the issue was far from resolved. Anyway, once I'd heard about the planned festivities, I knew that I had to see them for myself. Slipping out of the chain and wriggling out of my muzzle were surprisingly easy, though I chalked it up to my jotunn's blood and dashed to find a spot for a good vantage point. Valhalla was where the greatest party was being held so I immediately went there but I soon found out that as I was still a young pup, my diminutive size meant that I couldn't simply peep into one of the windows. Luckily, a discarded crate served as a stool and for a few minutes, it was like I'd been transported into another world. However, the excitement quickly faded, as I'd grown tired of observing festivities that I could never be a part of and retreated back to my stable. Slipping back inside, I was suddenly struck on the back of the head and knocked to the floor by an assailant, one who'd clearly been lying in wait for my return. Stepping into the torchlight, the man revealed himself to be the stable-boy's father, a short, fat man with a severely receding hairline and the stench of moldy cheese. His boot caught me in the stomach and before I could rise, he swung his arm out, his belt catching me in the face right above my left eye. The buckle dug into my skin, filling half my vision with blood.  "Mutilate my son, will you?" The man snarled, slurring his words a bit as he teetered slightly. It seemed he'd been doing his own bit of partying. "You turned him ugly. I can't marry him off now. How can I marry him off when no girl can stand the sight of him?! How?!" His arm descended, the belt biting into my right cheek. Then my chest, followed by my neck, and my ear  "How?!" He roared in between swings. "How, how, how, how, how?!"  I begged him to stop but he was in no mood to listen, his judgment clouded by alcohol and rage.  "Answer me how, you son of a bitch-...!" There was a clattering sound, as if someone had dropped several items, accompanied by the thundering of speeding boot-steps. A hand shot out of the darkness, seized the man's arm and spun him around so that a fist could collide with his nose. Blood sprayed out in droplets as the man tumbled to the floor. Raising my head up, I soon caught a glimpse of my rescuer, it being none other than Tyr himself. I was thrown off, not just because of his fortuitous appearance but also because his eyes were filled with a seething rage I'd never witnessed in the normally calm and collected individual.  "L-Lord Tyr?" The man appeared to sober up somewhat, his hand wiping away the twin trails of blood flowing from his nostrils. "I-I was just-..." Quick as a bolt of lightning, Tyr had drawn his sword, the point resting beneath the man's chin. "Beating a helpless animal?" "No, you see-..."  "Rúnar, I thought we'd settled this."   The man-Rúnar-glared at Tyr, the sword seemingly forgotten. "My boy's a freak, and this monster is to blame! No gold is going to fix that!"  The sword-point inched closer to Rúnar's throat, silencing him. "We discussed this already: your son attacked Fenrir and he was defending himself," Tyr enunciated in a level tone, the anger still present but now muted. "The debt's been paid and as far as I'm concerned, the matter closed. But you couldn't accept that."       "My Lord-..." This time, the sword-tip made contact, a scarlet bubble oozing out of the flesh of Rúnar's throat.    "You're going to trial and this time, I will not be so generous. Now get out of my sight." Wobbling to his feet, Rúnar took one last spiteful glare at me before dashing out of the stables. It didn't matter; everyone knew who he was and there was nowhere in the Nine Realms he could hide. Tyr was a man of justice and he would not rest until the law was upheld and the guilty punished. Sheathing his sword, Tyr exhaled and peered at me with concern before crouching down to lay his hands on me. Naturally, I flinched at his touch, whimpering at the contact.  "Shhh, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Let me look at you." His eyes held such kindness in them that I wanted to believe that he was being genuine. Scooping me up into his arms, Tyr carried me towards the doorway, where a tray containing scraps of meat and bread lay scattered on the floor. He set me down and, wetting a rag with a bucket of water, began to dab at my wounds. I jerked back a few times but allowed him to continue tending to me. Throughout it all, I could only view him with something akin to admiration.   "Most of these are minor cuts," Tyr commented gently. "The one above your eye may need stitching." "Why?" I murmured timidly.  Tyr stopped mid-dab. "What he was doing was wrong. Not only was Rúnar beating someone who couldn't defend himself but by defying me and essentially rejecting the weregild, he broke the law. This cannot stand." "I saw it in his eyes. He was going to kill me." "I don't doubt it, Fenrir. If I hadn't arrived when I did, he probably would have." A chill ran through my spine, causing me to visibly shiver. "Maybe he should have." Tyr placed his hand atop my head, his fingers gently massaging my scalp. If he wished, he could easily crush my skull and yet, strangely enough, this infused within me a kind of trust in him that I had for no one but my mother. I leaned into his touch, grateful for what little support that I had.  "Never wish for the end so quickly. No matter how slowly we walk, we will all arrive at our destination. So be sure to make your journey one that is worthwhile." I...I didn't remember that happening, at least not in that way. I could remember Rúnar hitting me, could practically inhale his mead-scented breath and cheesy body odor, the sweat trickling down his brow with every swing. Then he left, and I was lying on the straw-matted floor, curled up in a ball as I silently cried myself to sleep. Tyr saved me? He'd never been cold or cruel towards me, at least, not that I recalled, but now it seemed as though he really cared about me.  The donut I'd been eating toppled from my mouth. What else had I suppressed or misremembered? Had I really been so consumed by rage and vengeance that I somehow rewrote my own history in my mind? If I couldn't trust myself, then who could I? Great, now it seemed that I was a rapidly-growing murder-machine and completely insane as well. Gullveig. This had to be her influence. It seems the Hunger wasn't content with food or blood, also devouring my memories, mainly any recollections of happiness. What other hidden additions to this curse were there? Were there any more surprises in store for me or those I've come to befriend? I bent down to pick up a cupcake, only for it to suddenly blink open a pair of mismatched eyes. "Well, hello there!" Releasing a yelp, I threw myself onto my back, scrambling to get away from the pastry, which was now floating in mid-air and cackling madly. There was a flash of white light and it soon developed into the single most oddest thing that I've ever seen. A horse's head with an antler and goat's horn rested upon a serpentine body that continued to defy gravity as the thing shook with laughter. Its limbs consisted of a lion's paw, an eagle's talon, one hoofed leg and the leg of a lizard. A pair of wings, one bat-like and the other bird-like, sat on its back, the two appendages far too small to allow flight.      "Discord, stop. You're scaring him!"  The thing-Discord-ceased its laughter, regarding Fluttershy with a look of half-regret.  "Oh, I am truly sorry, my dear. It was just a bit of fun. I really meant no offense." Discord then grinned at me, the roguish sneer and twinkle of mischief in his eyes reminding me of Father. Whatever this thing was, he was most definitely a troublemaker.   "Um, Fluttershy, who...what is this?" The pegasus placed a foreleg around me comfortingly. "Fen, this is my friend Discord. Discord, I'd like you to meet my pe-son, Fen." A lion paw shot out and seized my paw, giving it a vigorous shake. "Greetings, my lupine friend! I am Discord, the supremely handsome and dashing Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. My, what a grip you have!" "So he's the god of mischief?" "Erm, not quite," Fluttershy responded. "He's just...Discord." "'Just Discord'?" The being began fanning himself dramatically. "Two words that should never be in a sentence together! Oh, how you wound me, Fluttershy!" "So where have you been?" Twilight asked. "We've been trying to get in touch with you." "I've been where I am usually am in times like these: waiting at home to see if the writer wants to bring me in for comic relief or to act as a cheap deus ex machina."   Judging by the glances the ponies gave one another, this odd behavior was par for the course. It gave me some small comfort to know that I wasn't the only one confused by his response.  "Would you care to elaborate?" I snorted contemptuously.  Discord shrugged. "Eh, seems too easy. It's much better to keep folks guessing." I suppose I couldn't fault a spirit of chaos for having such a- Wait a minute... "You can understand me?!"  "No need to shout," Discord grimaced, twisting a talon in one ear. "And to answer your question, yes, I can." He then peered at me through the same device Twilight used during my examination, something I heard the alicorn refer to as a magnifying glass. "Strange, this isn't normally the case when I interact with Fluttershy's furry friends."  He then stroked his beard. "There's something off about you. Something weird..." I searched his face, wondering if he knew the truth about me.  "I like weird!" Discord declared and snapped his fingers. A parade of fish manifested, all of them playing various musical instruments as they marched in-step on their tail fins. "Ha ha, what fun!"  "He takes getting used to," Fluttershy quietly assured me. I certainly hope so.  By the time the all-fish acrobatic show concluded, Fluttershy said good night to everyone and left home with Angel and I in tow, the rabbit riding on my back. I decided not to argue with him as we did have an agreement to honor and the party left me in a somewhat generous mood. He soon curled up and fell asleep, eliciting a smile out of me. Fluttershy caught this but had the good grace not to bring it up, merely beaming at me as she unlocked the door to the cottage. She carried Angel to his basket-bed and tucked him in, giving him a peck on the brow and a head rub.  I told Fluttershy that I was going to stay up a little and she bid me good night, giving me a tight hug. "Good night, Fen." She drew back so I could look her in the eye. "I love you." Those three words hit me like a flaming arrow to the chest. "I love you too...Mother."  After Fluttershy ascended the staircase, I pulled a book off of the shelf and attempted once more to read. Like last time, the squiggles on the pages made no sense and after an hour of intense mental labor, I called it quits and nearly threw the accursed thing in frustration. Hmm, Owlowicious appeared to be a worldly and well-read bird. Perhaps he could teach me if I asked him? It could prove useful if I wished to learn more about this world and its inhabitants.    FEAST...FEAST...FEAST... Oh no... FEAST...FEAST...FEAST... It was too soon! I'd already gorged myself on sugary treats at the party!  FEAST...FEAST...FEAST... The Hunger intensified, desperately gnawing at my cranium like a starving dog.  "What do you want?!" HUNT...HUNT...HUNT... The words resounded in my head, their voice that of an old crone.  It'd been some time then I chased down my own meal. I suppose I'd allowed myself to become domesticated, changing into a privileged pooch rather than the hunter that I truly was. Perhaps having some freshly killed meat in my system would satiate the Hunger, at least for now. Plus, I could use the exercise. I wasn't fat, just a tad pudgy in the middle and a good run through nature would fix that.  I slipped out the back door and took off, racing across the field with the moon and stars as my only companions. With my wolf senses, I had no issues navigating my way through the darkness, everything around me as clear as day. Arriving in a forest, my ears swiveled at the hundred different sounds, nostrils flaring at the plethora of scents. A bird trilled in the tree above me and a fox that was at least twenty feet away slunk by, clearly recognizing the superior predator. This pleased me greatly.       I sniffed and sighed, having caught the exquisite scent of a deer. Slowly, I ambled through the forest until I located the source of the smell, which was a ten-point buck lapping at a puddle of water. Yes, he'd be perfect. Not only would I benefit from the challenge but all of that raw meat would appease the Hunger, which practically howled at me impatiently. The crimson began pooling within my vision.   Keeping myself downwind, I gradually approached my quarry, taking care to avoid any branches or leaves that would otherwise give away my presence. As any great hunter would tell you, the key to a successful hunt was patience. You had to know when it was time to attack and when it was time to remain still. One of the buck's ears flicked but he remained ignorant of my existence, continuing to sate his thirst. I watched him, my heart thudding a furious staccato.   HUNT...HUNT...HUNT... Wait for it... The water rippled slightly with every push and pull of the buck's tongue. FEAST...FEAST...FEAST... Wait for it... Lowering myself to my haunches, I bowed my head low, readying every muscle in my legs for the imminent attack. KILL...KILL...KILL... The buck raised his head. Almost there... KILL...FEAST...HUNT...DEVOUR... Now!  Pushing on my hind paws, I hurled myself forward, racing towards my prey with savage voracity. The buck immediately scrambled to leap away, his long legs allowing him to put distance between us as he bounded through the woods. I followed close behind, practically tasting the fear, and more importantly, blood coursing through his veins. Determined not to let him get away, I picked up speed, my nimble jog transforming into a full-speed dash. Picking up on my advancement, the buck too picked up speed, madly darting to and fro in an attempt to not become dinner.  Faster and faster we raced, ducking low-hanging tree branches and protruding roots in our lethal game of tag, one in which victory and defeat had permanent consequences. My lungs burned, my legs screamed from the strain but I refused to submit, my pride as a hunter pushing me past my limits. I was not going to return home empty-handed...pawed, whatever. Tonight, I will dine on venison.   Now I was running alongside the buck, his desperation palpable while he too fought to overcome his natural stamina. Changing tactics, I swerved around a tree and put some distance between us, hopefully lulling the buck into a false sense of security. The worst thing for a prey-animal to do was to lower its guard; doing so causes them to slip up, make mistakes. Predators have to work for their food and are always on the lookout for the next meal to come traipsing by. Hard work, hard reward. Little crackles of white popped around me, fizzing around my limbs like fireflies. An ominous glow began to surround my whole body, a fiery black and green aura that I instantly recognized as the one Twilight had earlier detected. I had no time to ponder this, however, as I was currently locked inside of my hunter's head-space and could not afford to get distracted. A warm, tingling sensation vibrated throughout my body, creating a series of pains akin to being pelted by stones. The jabbing persisted, followed by a kind of twisting, stretching feeling in my bones and sinews. My limbs lengthened, my chest expanded and my muzzle elongated, allowing room for my new, longer teeth. Now equipped with longer, more powerful legs, I confidently resumed the chase with a new vigor, the pains of my previous exhaustion now long gone. The buck, however, was faltering in his movements, fatigue claiming him as its latest victim. Evading a thick tree, I charged in a large semi-circle, cutting off the buck's escape route and closing the distance between us. Our eyes met and the buck finally conceded.          KILL...KILL...KILL... I leapt, wrapping my jaws around his throat and biting down, sending us tumbling down a short hill. My teeth clamped down harder, releasing a sickly-sweet substance into my mouth. We came to a shortstop and I started to wildly shake, guzzling down the warm blood that flowed freely from the wound. The buck weakly kicked in a last futile attempt at a struggle but it was too late. The kicking stopped and he was soon dead, the light fading from his large eyes.  Dropping the buck's neck, I held my head up high and let loose a triumphant howl. I did it, I had won the race and was rewarded with a bountiful feast. The crimson drained from my sight, returning my vision to its usual collection of reds, blues, yellows and greens. Strangely, despite being essentially a big wolf, I could always see more of the color spectrum and simply attributed this anomaly to my unique parentage. This gave me an edge above my canine kin, as well as most predators.   I dug in with wild abandon, savoring the kill with every bite and tearing of flesh. When I licked my lips in completion, I found that I had devoured nearly every piece of meat on the buck, leaving the head, back, hooves, back-end, and parts of the sides intact. I wobbled, a slight feeling of queasiness overcoming me but it soon settled and I decided to travel back home. The repast left me sluggish but satisfied and when I arrived back at Fluttershy's cottage, I slipped inside, waddled up to the bedroom and fell fast asleep on the floor. That night, I slept a dreamless sleep.