The scrawny pup woke to the soft patter of rain against the forest’s leaves. The sky had become clotted with dark rain clouds overnight, and the sudden downpour had caught him unawares. Thunder rumbled close by, so loud that it seemed as if the gods themselves were roaring with fury. A plump drop of water fell from one of the trees leaves and landed on the wolf’s nose with a dull ‘pat’. Great, not only was it cold and lonely, but it was wet as well! It was as if Drathgurg found his suffering funny. A strange heat began to build up inside of him, and an acrid metallic taste began to sear in the back of his throat, as if he’d just ran a mile or lifted something heavy. His teeth grinded together and a low growl began to seep out of his frowning lips.
He was cold, he was hungry, and by gods, he was angry.
In a fit of rage he flung himself out of the shelter of the tree and into the sheeting rain. He began to bark madly towards the clouds, catching mouthfuls of rainwater with every snap of his jaws.
This was all their fault! He didn’t do anything wrong! All he had wanted to do was live his quiet, boring life with his quiet, boring parents in his quiet, boring home. But no! The gods couldn’t have that, could they? They just had to turn everything he had grown to love into cinders! They had to fry his loving mother into a steaming pile of ash! Why? Did the bastards in the sky get off on his torment? Did they perch themselves upon the stars and laugh at him as he slept alone through the bitterly cold nights? Did something about him just plain piss them off?
For hours he barked fiercely at the thick blanket of clouds, too angry to feel the numbness in his limbs and drowsiness in his head. His throat became hoarse and stung with every hate filled bark he threw at the pouring sky, but he yapped on regardless. He began to sway as the bracing wind pummelled him harder, and with a strong gust it swept him from his feet and sent him tumbling towards the river.
He slid easily across the rain-slicked earth, and soon plunged into the raging waters of the river, still barking as the current dragged him downstream. The water was freezing, far colder than the torrents of rain had ever been. The wild rapids of the roaring river would yank him underwater, only to toss him back up moments later. The river tugged him under, and his torso slammed into the broad side of a rock jutting up from the rivers depths. Over the heavy rainfall and thrashing waters a dull crack could be heard as one of the pup’s ribs snapped. The pup didn’t even register it; he’d lost all feeling to the cold long ago.
The river swallowed him up once again, and this time the small wolf breathed in the icy water. He had no doubt that he was going to die, that much had dawned on him ever since he had escaped the hellish fire which had consumed all that he had once loved, and he had come to accept that fact. It was only a matter of time before something or the other came along and killed him, so why not let his demise be drowning? ‘After all,’ he thought to himself ‘it is supposed to be just like going to sleep.’ He opened his mouth, welcoming the freezing waters into his lungs.
“Just like going to sleep…” he gargled to himself as his vision faded to black.
I made to leap right as Winona leapt towards me, her jaws braced in a furious snarl. Sadly, one of the many, many disadvantages of missing a leg is that you have piss-all balance. Because of this, my nimble dodge turned into a clumsy, face-first tumble to the floor. Winona soared overhead, her bared claws missing my head by inches.
Tactical faceplant, for the win.
Winona turned the moment she landed, wasting no time by instantly charging me head on. I rolled to the side, like the agile ninja I was, out manoeuvring Winona’s charge. I quickly got back on my paws, finding myself face to face with my inbred enemy.
Slowly, we began to circle each other.
“It’s about time somepony teach ya’ a lesson or two!” Spat Winona as she flattened her ears against her skull.
I held my silence, busily eyeing Winona up, searching for weaknesses to exploit. She was strong, there was no denying that, and it was pretty obvious that she held the advantage here, what with having all her limbs. However, she did have her downfalls. I managed to dodge both of her attacks so far, meaning that she was slower than me; her fighting stance was flimsy, showing that she was inexperienced, and best of all, she was overconfident, which she just made obvious to me with that stupid ‘teach you a lesson’ line.
Winona made another lunge at me, and I narrowly escaped with a quick hop backwards. She followed up her lunge with a few steps forward, bringing herself back into biting range whilst barking at me threateningly. I allowed her to gain the ground, cautiously backpedalling and waiting for her to give me an opening to attack. She crouched on her hind legs, an obvious indicator of an incoming attack. as I expected, she leapt forward, aiming for my neck. I shifted left, pivoting on my paws.
Winona landed in front of me, her teeth finding nothing but air. Mine, however, clamped around something far more physical.
Her ass.
Applejack burst through the barn doors. For the love of Celestia, what had that demented thing done now? Hurt Applebloom? Killed Winona? Took Granny Smith’s head and fashioned it into a hat? All of the above? After a quick inspection she found her answer.
“What. The. Buck.”
With an overemphasised stretch, Big Mac withdrew himself from the hospital bed. He raised his injured foreleg to Nurse Redheart, who gently peeled back the reddened bandages. He turned his head away to hide his blush, which Nurse Redheart noticed almost immediately. She giggled slightly, and Big Mac’s cheeks began to glow even brighter.
The wound had healed nicely (with a little help from unicorn magic), and he’d been confirmed fit for work. He wiggled his foreleg back and forth, testing its flexibility. He tensed the muscle in his leg (partially because he wanted to test the new scabs durability, but mainly because he wanted to show off to Nurse Redheart). Yes, he was fit and ready to put his self to good use once again, no doubt about that.
“Well…” he sighed “ah suppose I should be gettin’ back to the farm now…” although he yearned for the fresh air, the company of his family and all the other amiable comforts of home sweet home, his heart seemed to drop as he said these words. No more hospital meant no more Nurse Redheart. He didn’t even get the chance to talk with her! Although, truth be told, he wasn’t exactly the most conversational of ponies. Heck, his dictionary usually consisted of ‘eeyup’ and ‘nope’. Most ponies who knew him would be shocked senseless whenever he uttered a sentence with more than six syllables.
Nurse Redheart, as if sensing Big Mac’s disappointment, raised herself upon her hind hooves, using Big Mac’s newly healed leg for support. Leaning forward, she pecked him gently on the cheek, stifling a giggle of embarrassment as she did so.
“I’ll see you again soon, Big Mac.” She whispered softly into his ear.
Big Mac, now five times redder as usual, could only stutter in shock “Uh, y-yes ma’am! Th-that’d be nice M-Miss Redheart!”
He trotted woozily out of the hospital and back towards Sweet Apple Acres, now far more concerned about when he would see the lovely Miss Redheart again than he was with work.
He knew mares dug scars!
“Git yer chops off a mah backside ya rascal!”
“mrph mrumph gmurr!”
Dear gods, I’m stuck! Of all the times my jaws could’ve gotten stuck it had to be when I’ve got them wrapped around the pooper of a pretty girl! I don’t know whether this is a blessing or a curse! All I know is that this is NOT what my guy friends mean when they say ‘getting some ass’. Well, at least my teeth aren’t in too deep, tearing a chunk of buttmeat out of a dog’s behind isn’t exactly at the top of my ‘to do list’… although admittedly, I’m kind of curious as to how canine anus tastes.
Winona twisted her head awkwardly to face me, and instantly saw the hungry look in my eye.
“Don’t even think about it.” she said flatly.
Ah well, her ass would have probably tasted rather… shitty…
…
…
I’m sorry.
“Don’ ya worry, Winona, ah’ll get ‘im offa ya!” yelped a panicked Applejack as she sped through the barn door. Oh joy, hillbilly to the rescue! What’s she going to do? Work her redneck magic? Pry me off with a rake? Whisk me away with her trusty lasso?
My tail ignited in pain as Applejack dug her teeth in to it a began yanking it frantically.
"Git *yank* yer *yank* chops *yank* offa *yank* mah *yank* DOG!"
"Mph *whimper* gfert!"
(translation) "I'm *whimper* TRYING!"
Big Mac smiled to himself as he strolled the orchards of Sweet Apple Acres. 'A little bit of time away from home makes you appreciate it even more' he thought to himself, embracing the comfort that the leaves brushing against his skin gave him. Eagerly, he trotted towards the house, already devising a plan on how to best surprise his family with his early recovery. He wondered to himself if they'd missed him as much as he had them, and just how had things been getting on with that wolf anyways?
He skipped onto the front porch, giving Granny Smith (who'd been sleeping in that darned rocking chair of hers for the past two days now) a hearty hello.
He reached forward to rap on the door, but froze as he heard the angry shouts of her sister coming from the barn.
"Git yer chops offa mah DOG!"
He curiously made his way towards the barn, the slight grunting of his sister as well as some kind of strange whimpering grew louder as he drew closer to the entrance. Whatever was going on, it didn't sound good, his slowtrot broke into an all out run as the dark reality that his sister may be in genuine trouble fell upon him.
"Applejack, what's goin' on in h-"
He stopped squarely in his tracks as he laid eyes upon the canine/pony centipede before him.
All three of the barn's occupants froze as they noticed the large red stallion staring wide eyed at them.
"Big Mac," mumbled Applejack through the tail of the timber wolf "ah can explain."