“A man’s manners are a mirror in which he shows his portrait.”
--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
~*~*~
“So let me get this straight. When I get an idea to go to the Everfree Forest, I’m a dodo, but when YOU decide to go near it, suddenly it’s a different story.”
“It is a different story Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom defended.
“How?”
“We’re not goin’ near it, we’re goin’ IN it.”
“… And that’s better how?!”
“Because we’re not here to play around. We’re here to see a close friend of ours to help someone else. Ah’m sure the adults would be okay with it.”
“So does this mean you're gonna tell them?”
“Hay no!”
Traveling toward the forest, the Crusaders made sure to cut through the apple plantation. It was longer, but provided cover for their non-pony follower.
Normally Apple Bloom would’ve been the first to say no to the idea of going to the forest, especially without one of the adult ponies with them. However the warnings the adults gave them were for the threat of the changelings being loose in it. With one now on their side it would make navigating the forest a breeze. Plus they were technically with an adult. Although she had to admit, the peculiar changeling didn’t seem like the child-friendly type.
Wanting to stretch his legs, plus needing to keep to the shadows, Dead Ringer followed the group from the trees, hopping from branch to branch.
“You would be wise to heed your elders’ warnings,” the changeling noted as he jumped onto the nearby branch of the next tree. “The forest is not a place to trifle with.”
“Don’t worry, Dead Ringer,” Sweetie Belle reassured. “This isn’t the first time we’ve gone into that creepy old forest.”
Landing on the branch, he looked down to Sweetie Belle with an arched brow. “You’ve been there before?” he asked with a hint of disbelief.
“Plenty of times!”
Nearly falling from the tree, Dead Ringer caught the branch as he started sputtering to himself. Trying to wrap his head around how calmly she answered that question. That and catch his breath.
“Besides our main worry was of meetin’ any changelings in the forest.” Looking up, Apple Bloom gave the confused changeling a smile. “Now that we have one on our side, its a simple walk to Zecora’s hut.”
The baffled changeling hung from the branch as he watched the three fillies walk ahead, trying his best to fathom what she meant by that. Changeling he was, all the more reason to distrust him. And yet her words… Did she really trust him? Why? He shook his head of those thoughts. He couldn’t think like that, he had to focus! Collecting himself, Dead Ringer immediately jumped to the next branch.
Catching up he decided to change the subject over to something that had been plaguing him for a while now. “About this Zecora you mentioned, she’s a what again?”
“A zebra,” Sweetie Belle answered.
“And she just lives in the forest willingly?”
“Pretty much.”
Dead Ringer didn’t know what a zebra was or who this Zecora was, but she must be pretty powerful to survive in that forest on her own. But this just proved more why he needed to be on his guard when he returned to that forsaken forest.
“Alright y’all,” Apple Bloom announced, “we’re here!”
To his displeasure they had arrived. The fruit plantation had come to its end, and all that stood between it and the Everfree Forest was a small gap of land and grass. Already, he could feel his shoulders tighten up the as he laid eyes on that dark, dreary forest. What bothered him the most was the memory of his last visit. The last time he was here, he most certainly was not alone. He didn’t know what bothered him more, that he was back so soon, or that he had three loud targets to look after.
Not wasting any time, the three Crusaders started walking towards the forest, only to immediately stop when an obstruction blocked them.
Leaping from the tree Dead Ringer landed at the front. Slowly standing up his brow furrowed as his eyes fell on the dark forest before him.
The girls all exchanged confused glances with one another, wondering what got the changeling acting so strange. Slowly watching him they studied his expression. The changeling kept his gaze centered on the forest. What bothered them was the way he was looking at it, almost like he was waiting for something. The gaze he was giving was so freaky that even a dragon would find it unsettling.
“Hey,” Sweetie Belle asked, tapping Dead Ringer’s leg to try and get his attention. “You okay?”
Dead Ringer didn't answer. He just continued staring at the forest with disdain as if it were alive and staring back. Maybe in some way to him, it was.
Seeing this going nowhere, Apple Bloom decided to take the lead, figuring the changeling would follow soon enough. But immediately, when she took one step forward, Dead Ringer’s leg swiftly slammed into the dirt, blocking her path.
“Hold it,” he commanded, eyes still lingering on the forest.
“What is it?” Scootaloo asked, a bit curious over the changeling’s strange behavior.
Dead Ringer looked at the young filly. His hardened expression softened a little, almost like he was uncertain of something. Shortly he turned his gaze back on the forest, his hardened scowl returning.
For some time now, he had been pondering something. Whatever it was that followed him to the forest end could still be lingering. This would leave him and his cohorts in danger.
“Wait here,” he commanded, his voice hard.
“What?” Apple Bloom asked. “Ah thought we--”
“I said wait here!” he repeated more hastily. The young filly slowly backed off. Lowering himself to the ground the cautious changeling started to prowl his way into the forest. Like a hunter following its prey.
Looking at one another, each Crusader gave a shrug, figuring maybe it was some kind of a changeling thing or something.
Treading lightly, the quiet soldier slowly stalked his way through the grass of the forest. Standing up, his eyes snapped from side to side as he scanned the environment. His eyes soon adjusted to the dark, making the shadowed forest become more visual to him. Now he was able to make out the area around him.
Surrounding him was nothing more but trees and foreign plants of the like. Giving the area a deep sniff, he found to his displeasure no scents of any hostile odors. What displeased him about it was all he could smell was the scent of the forest. There were too many creatures and plants giving off their own odor that it became difficult to tell one from the other.
His eyes and nose failing him, Dead Ringer was left to rely on only one sense: his hearing. Shutting his eyes, his ears perked up as he listened to the distant sounds of the forest. They fidgeted and moved as they picked up and filtered the different noises the forest was making. The mixed sounds of bugs chirping and birds calling entered his earlobes, but no sounds of anything that would match a hostile predator. No sounds of heavy feet prowling through the grass, no sounds of heavy breathing, and no sounds of sniffing. With some luck, it would stay that way. He hoped.
Breathing a sigh of contentment, the restless soldier slowly began to relax. “Okay girls,” he called out. “It’s safe!”
To his confusion, there was no response. “Girls?” Turning toward the way he entered, he found to his shock it was vacant. The Crusaders were gone!
A strange sensation fell over him. He didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t like it. All he knew was the only thing that could make it go away was if he found them! Acting quickly, he started sniffing the area where he left them, trying to pick up their scents. With some luck, he might be able to track them down before something happened to them.
“Hey!” Scootaloo voice hollered from a distance. Drawing his attention toward the source his investigation was cut short as he found the missing fillies. Inside the forest! “You coming or what?”
“What the--?!” was all Dead Ringer could say. He couldn’t believe this! They would just go in? Without some kind of supervision? He was beginning to see why these three were at that mountain unattended. He groaned inwardly as he trotted off to catch up with the group.
Catching up, he slid to a stop. “Don’t run off like that!” he scolded the three. “This place is dangerous!”
“What’s the big deal?” Scootaloo defended with a shrug. “There’s nothing here.” Slowly, her annoyed frown turned into a smirk filled grin. “You're not scared are you?” she sneered.
Dead Ringer snapped his head in the snappy pegasus’ direction. His left eye twitched in anger as he glowered at her. “I told you. True changelings don’t know fear.”
“Is the big bad changeling afraid of the dark mean old forest?” she mocked with the barest hint of sympathy.
His anger growing, the quiet changeling leaned in until he was nose-to-nose with smug talking filly. “Watch what you say you kid,” he warned. “I’ve seen enough horrors lurking in this forest that would make your head spin.”
“Ha!” Scootaloo exclaimed with a bold smile, pointing a hoof at him. “So you admit you’re scared!” she proudly pointed out.
“I said no such thing!” Dead Ringer barked, taking a step back.
“Funny, doesn’t the word ‘horror’ imply something to be scared of? As in something to be fearful of?” she quipped, her cocky smile ever growing.
“Yeah, and ‘head spin’ can imply being shocked or beheaded!”
“Is that a threat?” Scootaloo asked wryly. “Because that sounded like a threat. You're not thinking of going back on your Pinkie Promise now are ya?” she rebuked, a hint of taunt in her tone.
“It’s whatever you think it means you featherheaded ball of fur,” Dead Ringer solemnly crooned looking away.
“Whatever you say…”
“Baldy.”
That one word was enough to recapture the changeling’s attention as Dead Ringer’s head snapped toward the insulting child’s direction, his eyes burning with anger. He stomped up to her until they were once again face-to-face. “Obnoxious pony,” he muttered to her.
“Scaredy bug!”
“Grass chewer!”
“CUPCAKE LOVER!”
“Do we have to separate the two of you?” Sweetie Belle stepped in having enough. Apple Bloom decided to preoccupy herself by staring at the sky as she waited for this pointless argument to end.
“HE STARTED IT!”
“SHE STARTED IT!”
They both shouted in unison, pointing an accusing hoof at the other.
“I don’t care who started it! I’ll finish it!” Sweetie Belle suddenly gasped horrifyingly as she threw a hoof over her mouth. “Oh no…”
“What is it now?” Apple Bloom groaned, wondering what else could go wrong?
“I’ve become my mother!” the young unicorn cried in utter shock and horror.
Seeing as Sweetie Belle was ‘bye bye’, and neither of the other two were backing down, Apple Bloom decided it was her turn to step in.
“Will y’all relax?” she relented pushing the two apart, hoping some space would help the both of them calm down. “Zecora’s hut is just a freckle past a hair from here. Now the sun is burnin’ and its gonna get dark soon.” She shot a glance at the two bickerers. They still looked miffed, but less so. Her words were clearly making headway. “So, are we gonna act like big ponies, or like a bunch of misbehavin’ kids?”
Dead Ringer shot a glance to his associate across from their moderator. She was staring at him with those eyes of anger again. However, she soon looked away, walking over to a still in shock Sweetie Belle. With a sigh Dead Ringer backed down, agreeing that this argument was fruitless. “As you say, Crusader Apple Bloom.”
With a smile Apple Bloom prepared to join Scootaloo in helping their friend come back to reality, but stopped herself as a thought dawned on her. “Why are you callin’ me that?” she inquired, referring to the last time he addressed her.
Dead Ringer looked at her quizzically, wondering what he said wrong. “That is your name,” he answered, “is it not?”
“Well yeah,” she responded with a hint of skepticism in her voice, rubbing the back of her mane. “But ‘crusader’ ain’t part of it.”
“But it is your title,” he pointed out.
“What’s that got to do with it?” Sweetie Belle asked, finally regaining her composure from her previous outburst.
Dead Ringer looked at her, then at Apple Bloom, and even Scootaloo, trying to fathom what they weren’t getting. However, what was wrong was he wasn't talking to his people. He wasn’t back home where such mannerisms were common. He was so accustomed to such courtesies between him and his people he just plain assumed every race knew it. It seemed so simple for him to understand. Why not them?
Maybe, if he explained?
With a soft sigh Dead Ringer slowly shut his eyes as he began to share. “Among my people,” he paused, “it’s considered rude, even insulting, to not refer to another by their earned title and rank when first addressing them.”
“How’s that?” Sweetie Belle asked, listening closely with intrigue.
“Well say that I…” he paused, shifting his eyes from side to side. “… was titled something like commander. When first addressing me, you would first say, ‘Commander Dead Ringer.’ Once the address has been made, casual name basis may resume.”
“Shoot!” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “Is it always like that?”
“The only exception is her Majesty,” he answered, referring to the Queen. “She must always be identified as such. ALWAYS…” he emphasized.
“Wow, is it really that important?” Sweetie Belle asked, slightly alerted.
“Would you address your Princesses any other way?”
Sweetie Belle pondered that thought for a moment. “I guess, but I don’t think Celestia or her sister would be offended if we didn’t.”
“But why?” Dead Ringer asked not seeing the picture. “After all, a title is what separates and makes one unique. It’s what shows others you’re different, special even.”
He didn’t know what it was, but suddenly the young unicorn started to smile. Then Apple Bloom joined in. Even Scootaloo looked slightly taken aback by his words, just enough to stun her. He looked at them, confused, trying to fathom what he said to cause this.
Apple Bloom knew there was more to him. She knew it. He thought they were special, or at least enough to earn a title that separated them from other ponies. The three of them had become the Cutie Mark Crusaders to prove that they were special. But he thought they were just by the group name alone, and that was enough to earn a smile from her, and even Sweetie Belle it seemed. However it was more than just that. At the same time she was touched, knowing he was sharing something about his people with them. And that made her feel all the more special.
“What?” Dead Ringer asked feeling awkward by the smiles he was receiving from the two, that and the sudden emotional scent suddenly in the air. “I was just trying to be courteous.”
As a way of thanking him, Sweetie Belle walked over and gave the changeling a gentle pat, which made him take a step back awkwardly. “Thank you Dead Ringer, that was nice of you. But you don’t have to worry about us,” she reassured. “We won’t get offended if you just use our usual names.”
Wondering if they were sincere, the changeling gazed at each Crusader. Scootaloo just responded with a scowl before averting eye contact. Apple Bloom however gave a short nod along with a humbled smile, Sweetie Belle did the same. They were sincere, two at least.
“I will…” Dead Ringer paused, looking away as he casually brushed his hoof against the dirt, “…try…” Slowly he quirked a brow at her. “Sweetie Belle?”
Dead Ringer flinched a little, half expecting her to yell for not saying her name properly, or call him stupid for forgetting. But she didn’t. Looking at her, she just softly smiled, not upset in the slightest. He just stared back with uncertainty and confusion. He felt… weird, out of place almost, not acknowledging someone by their title first was something he wasn’t accustomed too.
“So if we’re all finished with the cheesiness hour can we move this along?” Scootaloo asked with little patience as usual, breaking the silence, to everyone’s irritation.
Despite her behavior Dead Ringer responded with a nod. “Lead on pegasus.”
Nodding she started walking, her two friends followed next to her. However she gradually started slowing down as she shot a gaze at their older follower. “Uh, its Scootaloo,” she pointed out, finding it odd that he hadn’t used her name yet.
“I know,” he answered passively, walking past her as he followed after Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.
Scootaloo stopped walking as her confusion only grew. “But, wouldn’t it be rude to not call someone by their name too?” she pointed out raising a brow.
Stopping, the changeling slowly turned his gaze to her, giving the most underhanded smirk she’d ever seen. “So it is...”
Scootaloo’s mouth was left completely agape as the group continued on without her. “Did he… just make a joke?” she thought out loud, hardly believing it. “Wait a minute… Did he just insult me?!”
In the hut of Ponyville’s other foreign resident, the wise potion brewer slowly readied her final ingredients to add to her newest concoction. Soon her potion would be prepared, and ready to fulfill its purpose.
“A touch of blackberry from its succulent vines. Along with a scent from the Wiggy Wiggy pine.” Dropping the last ingredient into the boiling pot Zecora waited patiently for the right reaction.
Answering her, a green puff of smoke blew into the air as the pot started to boil and turn. Soon it went from a sickly green to a light green. “Excellent,” she complimented herself, “the perfect brew. Now to just wait for it to stew.”
“ZECORAAAA!” a distant voice called from afar, causing the zebra’s ears to perk up as she detected its source of origin.
“What is this, a familiar sound?” She asked out loud. “It would seem that I have guests inbound.” Leaving her brew to braise the lone zebra headed to the door.
Upon opening, Zecora was greeted with three smiling faces that brought a smile to her own. “Hello Ms. Zecora!” they greeted in unison.
“A fine day to you, Apple Bloom and friends,” Zecora greeted with a humble nod. “What brings you here, to what ends?”
“Well,” Apple Bloom began, carefully choosing her words. “We was hopin’ for some help.”
“Help you say?” Zecora asked with a hint of concern as she stepped out the door. “Is everything back home ok?”
“Oh no,” Apple Bloom shook her head. “Everyone back home is fine. Its just that someone we met--”
“Who’s not a pony,” Sweetie Belle interrupted feeling the need to clarify, to Zecora’s confusion and her friend’s annoyance.
“Ya see a uh…” Apple Bloom paused as she felt Scootaloo’s eyes fall on her “… acquaintance of ours is injured. So we was wonderin’ if you could maybe help him?"
Although she found the children’s behavior to be rather confusing and odd, Zecora nonetheless smiled. “I would be more than happy to help thee. But tell me, where would your friend be?” she asked referring to the fact besides the four of them no one else was in the area.
“Hiding.” Sweetie Belle answered with a giggle. “He got spooked by your decorations,” she said, referring to the decorations outside Zecroa’s hut.
“Which as he says, ‘isn’t' the same as being afraid,” Scootaloo informed, a clear sense of annoyance in her voice. “WHICH IT TOTALLY IS!” she cried out to a nearby tree, which suspiciously started shaking while makings sounds of groans and mutters.
Putting two and two together, Zecora approached the tree. “Do not be fearful my wounded friend!” she called out to the unknown hider. “Your injuries are the only thing I wish to amend!”
The individual gave no response, much to Zecora’s confusion. Turning the younger fillies, she could see the clear looks of nervousness and uncertainty on their faces. Almost like they weren’t looking forward to her meeting him.
Probably because they weren’t.
“Just…” Apple Bloom slowly warned, uneasiness in her tone. “Just promise ya won’t be scared?”
Zecora tilted her head questionably by the children’s continued curious behavior. However she responded with a small chuckle, figuring out what was worrying them. “Darlings, I have seen from dragons to griffons, wolves and snakes. I promise you, I am not one who easily gets the shakes.”
“Okay…” Apple Bloom responded meekly. Walking over the tree, she called out, “Its alright, you can come out now.” Taking a few steps back she rejoined her friends, praying like them to Celestia that things didn’t go too bad.
Zecora waited patiently, slightly curious over who this creature of mystery was. However what she got, was nothing close to what she expected.
In one swift motion a being covered in shadows leaped from the tree, landing before her. The creature slowly rose to its hooves as it looked at her, studied her. It tilted its head quizzically as it continued watching her. Zecora couldn’t put her hoof on it but the silhouette of the creature looked familiar, almost pony like. But it clearly wasn’t a pony. So what could it be?
Stepping forward the shadows that once covered the figure faded away as the light illuminated the creature’s true appearance, much to Zecora’s horror. A shape shifting being of origins that were unknown even to her wisest elders. A creature whose dark ways were matched only by its dark skin and empty eyes. What her and Equestrian kind all knew as, changeling.
“Roho nisaidie!” she screamed in her foreign tongue.
“Zecora wait!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, trying to calm her friend before things got any worse. “Its not what you think!”
Despite her protests, Zecora stood guard before the girls, blocking them from the unknown threat. “Children, stay behind me! I will protect you three!”
“Listen here, creature, whose heart is black!” she shouted at the changeling, who throughout all this just watched the scene with a passive, yet slightly puzzled look. “Leave this place, and do not come back!”
Ignoring the warning the changeling slowly started making its approach. Zecora readied herself, determined to do whatever it took to keep this creature away from the children.
It stopped just a few feet before her, still not showing any signs of emotion or hostility. The changeling raised his head as it looked over her to three fillies she guarded. “Crusaders, why is she talking like that?” he casually asked.
Zecora to say the least, was confused.
“Zecora!” Apple Bloom shouted, finally grabbing the confused zebra’s attention. “HE’S the one we want you to help!”
Now she was even more confused.
“So this is what a zebra looks like,” the changeling stated grabbing Zecora’s attention. Its eyes scanned her up and down, getting a better look of her in the light. “You’re slimmer than I expected,” he casually noted.
Now she was really confused, and slightly flushed.
“Don’t worry Zecora,” Sweetie Belle reassured, walking along with the others toward the foreign entity as Zecora watched flabbergasted, “he won’t hurt you.”
Zecora just didn’t know how to respond. All she could do was just tilt an eyebrow as she studied the strange creature in front of her. All the while the Crusaders were keeping up their smiles to try and lighten the tension for everyone. Mostly for themselves.
Apple Bloom decided to break the ice. “Zecora allow me to introduce our new student, Dead Ringer. Dead Ringer, this our friend Zecor--”
Apple Bloom was cutoff as Zecora suddenly leaned in towards the her and her friends faces, thoroughly eyeing each Crusader. Studying their faces carefully with great detail, almost like she was looking for something. Despite the girl’s clear discomfort.
Dead Ringer watched somewhat confused, but chose not to intervene, figuring maybe it was some sort of zebra thing or something. Plus, it’s not like she was harming them.
“Uh… Zecora?” Scootaloo asked breaking the awkward silence in the air. “Personal space?” Despite the protest Zecora’s concentration remained unbroken.
After a few more seconds of studying she gave a sigh of contentment before standing up right. “At first it was difficult to tell. But you’re certainly not under any spell.” Walking away from the confused group of ponies plus one changeling, Zecora started pacing back and forth as she started mulling over the situation.
Stopping she spoke to the group, her voice calm but strong. “You come to me bringing a creature that’s left your land in chaos and disorder.” She turned to them as she then said, “Before things escalate, I believe an explanation is in order.”
She wanted an answer. They were afraid of that. They knew when they came here that it wasn’t gonna be easy, but despite everything that’s happened Zecora was taking things better than anypony back home would’ve. The next part they feared was how she would react when they explained. To understand the story, they would first have to explain how they met first, which would mean revealing where they were yesterday. Plus it would mean they would be going back on their Pinkie Promise. Which would mean a certain pink pony would know and then they would have to give another explanation.
However if memory served they said nopony. Zecora technically was not a pony, so they weren’t technically breaking a promise, technically.
Exchanging a glance with one another, both Crusaders sighed heavily as they retold the tale. From their meeting at the mountain, to the reunion at the clubhouse. As she listened Zecora occasionally shot a passive glance toward a quiet changeling.
Choosing to be the quiet observer, the stoic changeling felt it was best if he just listened while the three did the explaining. His wing however was screaming they’d hurry up!
“… and that’s when we made a Pinkie Promise.” Apple Bloom explained. “Ah know it might’ve seemed rash, but he didn’t have anywhere to go, and no way to get back home. Plus if anypony finds him the adults will know where we were.”
“And then,” Scootaloo added.
“It's goodbye Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Sweetie Belle finished.
The potion brewer stood silently as she reflected over the tale, her expression was difficult to read. Turning toward the Crusaders, she soon gave them a glad smile. “Little ones, your quests for your talents are noble indeed.” Slowly her expression hardened as she stated, “However, you must learn to take better heed.” Apple Bloom and her two friends hung their heads in shame, giving a short nod.
Seeing this Zecora continued. “As thankful as I am that you’re are alright. I am not sure I can help you with this plight,” she finished referring to the changeling she now knew as Dead Ringer.
“Z-Zecora?!” Apple Bloom gasped in shock. Completely agape to the idea that Zecora, one of the most open minded and gentle people she knew, wasn’t going to help someone in need? Dead Ringer just continued to watch quietly, though inside he was agitated for being referred to as a plight.
Kneeling to their level Zecora slowly explained. “Children, please understand. Aiding this creature is something I’m not sure I can.” She turned their attention to a scowling changeling. Its face was hard to tell whether it was angry, or just staring. Zecora continued.
“Changelings are unknown beings from a far and strange nation. Living on their own, in complete isolation. They are creatures full of trickery and deceit. When it comes to helping themselves they’ll do anything, including lie and cheat.”
“What do you know, zebra?!” Dead Ringer snapped catching everyone off-guard. Marching up to her he looked the Zebra square in the eye. He’d had enough! He wasn’t just gonna sit there and let her demean his people!
Despite the intimidation he gave her, Zecora kept on her feet. “Changeling, do not think you have me scared. When it comes to fighting, I am always prepared.”
“And will you stop talking like that?!” Dead Ringer snapped, having enough of her rhyming. The entire time he tried to ignore it, but it was really getting on his nerves.
Zecora did little to hide her anger. No, she was more than angered. She was outraged. “How dare you! I--!”
Cutting her off, the Crusaders stepped in. “Dead Ringer! That’s enough!” Apple Bloom chastised. “Now you sit over there and let us to talk to Zecora!” She directed the now flabbergasted changeling over to a nearby tree.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle added in agreement.
“But,” Dead Ringer tried, slightly taken aback by the ponies sudden hostility. “She--!”
“No but’s mister!” Sweetie Belle firmly stated. “Sit!”
Dead Ringer gave Zecora one last glare of anger before complying. As he headed for the tree he muttered to himself. It was difficult to hear but the girls could’ve sworn they heard him say, “She knows nothing of what we go through.”
Zecora was left in utter shock. She had to admit, she was just as shaken as he was, if not more so. The girls not only talked down a changeling, but it listened! Granted it listened like a misbehaving teenager listens to his parents, but she digresses.
“Zecora,” Apple Bloom said interrupting her thoughts.
Zecora’s attention fell on a pouting Apple Bloom, her tone low but sincere. “Please listen. Ah know he might seem like a big ol’ meany.” She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the grumbling changeling, his expression more annoyed than angry. “But a wise person once told me you can’t judge a book by the look of its face, or the color of its fur.”
Slowly, she turned back to Zecora. “You know who told me that? You did Zecora.”
The wise zebra just stood there in utter silence as Apple Bloom’s words left her speechless. Hard to believe that just a few weeks ago this little pony was asking her if there was a potion to get gum out of a pony's mane. Now here she and her little friends were, trying to earn their place in the world by trying to aid an outsider. It brought a song to her heart. The sweet and innocence of the young. They clearly were taking this ‘being a teacher’ crusade seriously.
Turning her head towards the changeling she carefully studied it. The changeling just continued to sit there quietly. He didn’t look like he was scheming, planning, or anything. He just wanted to get his wing fixed so he could go home. She also had to admit that as far as its actions went, the ones that she knew of, Dead Ringer hadn’t done anything wrong. Other than insult her.
But then again, as much as she hated to admit it. She was guilty of the same offense, perhaps even greater for her earlier actions of misjudgment. When two unknown beings meet for the first time, the only result is confusion and misconceptions. Nonetheless she only acted in defense of the young ones for their safety. But still, she was guilty, and her conscious kicked her for that.
The Crusaders, or Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle from what she could tell by the their story, believed that Dead Ringer could be taught. If she was going to help, she was going to need proof that there really was some kind of hope for it. To see if this creature really did have some kind of chance to learn. But how?
A smile slowly formed as the potion brewer schemed. If this was a class on a field trip, then it was time for a pop quiz.
“Very well!” Zecora finally announced to everyone, her voice full of cheer and sincerity. “I shall help this creature with his ail.”
Each Crusader, Scootaloo included, high hooved and gave a cheer. To her, a victory was a victory.
“However,” Zecora began halting everyone’s celebration, “before I perform this medicinal task.” Slowly her eyes dotted over to Dead Ringer as she said, “A simple gesture of kindness is all I ask.”
The changeling growled to himself. Of course there’s a bloody catch.
Seeing his anger the clever zebra’s smile only grew. It was time to throw her plan into action. Taking a heel turn, the knowing alchemist made her way towards the monitoring changeling.
Dead Ringer cautiously backed up as she approached, not taking his eyes off her for one second. His brow was furrowed, his teeth were bared, but his expression was more angered than threatening. Probably because he was trying to mask the uneasiness traveling through him as the smiling zebra headed towards him. He knew that smile all too well. He’d seen it before by many deceitful changelings he’d dealt with in the past. She was planning something.
Zecora walked right up to Dead Ringer, looked him in the eye and said with a calm and easy tone, “Fix your wing I can with ease. But before I do, you must say please.”
Dead Ringer to say the least, was staggered. “Please-- What? Please?!” he balked.
“That seems fair,” Apple Bloom noted catching the perplexed changelings attention. “Dead Ringer, say please.”
“What?!” the changeling exasperated. “I’m not saying anything!”
“What do ya mean?” Apple Bloom responded, confused by the changelings rage. “Its easy!”
Quickly getting an idea she picked up a nearby rock. “Look I’ll show you, consider this your next lesson.” Walking over to Scootaloo she handed her the rock. “Scootaloo hold this rock.”
“Uh, okay?” Scootaloo responded taking the rock from her friend, confused by where she was going with this.
“Now then, Scootaloo may I please have that rock?” Apple Bloom asked sweetly.
“Um… sure?” Scootaloo answered handing her back the rock, completely stumped.
Taking the rock back Apple Bloom responded in kind, “Thank you.”
“See?” Sweetie Belle said to Dead Ringer, dubbing Apple Bloom’s lesson a success. “Easy!”
“No!” Dead Ringer shouted indignantly, his patience wearing thin.
Angered by their pupil’s rudeness, Sweetie Belle crossed her forelegs. “Weren’t you just telling us it’s rude to not call someone by their title?” she reminded. “Well here mister, it’s rude to ask for something without saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.”
“Well where I come from when I want something done,” he snapped his eyes toward Zecora, “I order it done!” He may be keeping his commanding status away from them, but he still had his pride for Chrysalis’ sake.
Despite the hostility that was being shown towards her, Zecora stood tall. “I know this must sound like such a tragedy. But I’m afraid that won’t work here-” she gave a short bow “-your majesty.”
Dead Ringer growled as he pressured his feet into the dirt. “Well perhaps there are other ways I can make you do it?” he responded with snarl, his fangs showing.
However, despite his threat, Zecora looked completely unfazed. She just stood there keeping her proud smile attached to her face. He hated that.
“Do what you like, it doesn’t bother me. But remember without I, there’s no one for miles who will answer your plea.” Zecora paused as she saw her words starting to reach the glaring bug. Despite his anger, Dead Ringer could find nothing to refute the zebra’s words. He hated that even more.
“Tell me changeling,” Zecora ventured, a hint of taunt and undertone in her voice. “Do YOU know how to mend a wing?”
Dead Ringer responded with a low hiss to voice his anger and annoyance. To his disgust however, she was right. Heal his wing he could, but the risk and time consumption was too great. He was at an impasse.
There’s an old saying among his people: 'Beggars can’t be choosers.' It’s just that begging was the only choice here.
Slowly he moistened his lips as he swallowed spit. Taking a deep breath his expression softened a little. “Ples,” Dead Ringer mumbled quickly.
“I’m sorry, that I could not hear,” Zecora responded in kind. “Could you please repeat that again my dear?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Scootaloo noted to the smug looking elder zebra, who just responded with a innocent smile.
“Plas," Dead Ringer mumbled again, this time a little louder, his rising anger clear. Zecora shook her head as she drew a hoof to ear, signaling she still could not hear. Dead Ringer released an annoyed groan as he repeated through his teeth, “Plase…”
She leaned in, motioning again that she did not hear. Having enough Dead Ringer took a deep breath as he spoke with great strain and bitterness, “P-l-e-a-s-eeeeee?!”
Satisfied Zecora acknowledged coyly, “There now, was that so hard? Manners are something one should never discard.” Dead Ringer didn’t know why but he suddenly felt like he needed to wash his mouth out with toad.
“Yeah…” Scootaloo causally agreed. Drawing a hoof to her chin she suddenly grew a sly smirk. “Now make him say pretty please with sprinkles and a cherry on top!”
“WHAT?!” Dead Ringer screamed with utter rage, his voice rising from its casual low growl to a bellowing roar.
Zecora tried her best to stiffen a giggle with a hoof, but failed. “Another time my dear. Right now I think the end of your student’s patience is drawing near,” she said referring to the now foaming changeling.
Walking towards her hut Zecora beckoned her guests to the door. One by one the Crusaders trotted in. Dead Ringer hung his head in annoyance and shame as he followed. However before he was able to enter, the door suddenly slammed shut. After smashing into it Dead Ringer turned toward the hut owner who looked at him with a miffed expression. “As much as having you in will be a treat. First I must ask that you wipe your feet.”
Seeing his confusion she directed the changelings attention to his hooves. His dirt filled hooves. With a groan and a grumble he swiftly brushed his dirty hoofs against the mat.
After finishing she gave him a thankful smile as she reopened the door. Without so much as a nod he bitterly walked in with Zecora following close behind.
Inside, Zecora carefully examined Dead Ringer’s broken wing. Having it laid out across the table surrounded by her herbs and potions, she slowly studied the rips and tears in the veins of the wing. The Crusaders all waited as they sat around the hut.
Apple Bloom watched Zecora work with great interest as she sat across the table. Sweetie Belle was busy studying the different assortments of potions Zecora had hanging from the shelves. While Scootaloo was busy making scary faces at one of Zecora’s decorative masks.
“Hey Zecora!” Sweetie Belle called. “Whatcha got going on here?” she asked referring to the boiling potion brew Zecora was working on earlier.
Not taking her eyes off the wing she answered, “A brew for young Snail’s eye infection. With it, the young colt should return to his original complexion.”
Sweetie Belle answered with a nod. She’d almost forgotten the whole ordeal from earlier today.
Zecora continued to study the strange wing before her as her mind worked on what she should do. Changeling wings were far different from that of a bird or a pegasus wing. Their wings were made from bone, muscle, and feathers. While changelings were made of organic tissue. Similar to that of an insect’s, only more full of holes. If this changeling was gonna fly again she was gonna need something to heal the rips in the wing. Something to mend the physical tears and allow the cells in the wing to heal.
Reaching over she picked up a wooden bowl with a wooden spoon in it along with two bottles of white and yellow liquid. Taking the two colored containers she carefully poured each one into the bowl. The potion maker then started stirring the two foreign liquids together.
Dead Ringer all the while just waited there in silence as he let the healer work. Only occasionally his eyes would glance over to see what she was doing. He didn’t know what she was making, but it sure smelled funny.
Finished, Zecora picked up the bowl and held it over the injured wing. “What’s that for?” Dead Ringer asked with a hint of concern, not liking where this was going.
Instead of responding Zecora started pouring the medicinal oil onto the wing. Dead Ringer immediately flinched as the strange liquid touched upon his wing. It’s not that it hurt, it’s just that the it was so cold!
Satisfied with the results so far, Zecora then initiated the next part of the healing. Resting her front hooves on the wing, the wise healer started rubbing the oil across the wing. She had to make sure the healing oils would properly soak into the wing. Dead Ringer flinched again, this time from the startle of Zecora touching his wing. He hated it when others touched his wing. He really did.
Strangely, as Zecora started massaging the cool moisture into his wing, he actually started to relax. Even more strange, it felt pretty good. He was actually… enjoying it. Whether it was the strange oil she was using, or how she was rubbing, he couldn’t tell. Either way, he hadn’t felt this comfortable in ages.
The pain that seeped up and down his wing soon started to fade. Even the burning feeling his cuts gave off were starting to numb. Closing his eyes, Dead Ringer just let his thoughts wander as the soothing feeling just took him away.
Deciding to take her eyes off her work for second, Zecora shot a glance over to Dead Ringer; just to see if he was holding up alright. To her surprise, he was doing pretty well. Better than well, he looked completely relaxed. Even stranger, he was smiling! Plastered across his face was the goofiest smile she’d ever seen. It was the kind of smile she saw Pinkie Pie have after guzzling down a whole cart of cider that one time. She had to do her best just to hold down the giggles that were coming.
Her ears perked up as the familiar sounds of giggling in the distance filled them. Snapping her head toward the source she saw the Crusaders all watching the relaxing changeling, each one wearing a grin as they watched the humorous scene; as did she as Zecora did her best to stiffen another giggle.
Dead Ringer’s eyes opened as he heard the strange noises in the room. Shooting a glance towards the Crusaders the sounds immediately stopped, almost like his eyes opening triggered the noise to cease. If it wasn’t for the huge grins the girls were trying to hide he wouldn’t have noticed anything.
He gritted his teeth as he gave a low snarl. The Crusaders immediately looked away, acting like nothing was out of the usual as they started whistling innocently like little angels. Dead Ringer then shot the monitoring zebra an upset glare. She just smiled in response as she focused back on her work. Content that they understood one another Dead Ringer went back to staring at the wall. This time on alert, refusing to relax. While inside he was berating himself.
He let his guard down. That was foolish to do. Foolish! A good soldier always stands on guard, always! He couldn’t let that happen again. Especially in this unfamiliar place.
Finally finished, Zecora reached up to a nearby shelf, pulling out a large leaf. Slowly, she started wrapping it around the disinfected wing like a bandage. Folding the leaf up tight, she secured the bandaged leaf together.
“Dead Ringer,” she asked, catching the contemplative changeling off guard, “could you carefully lift up your good wing? We can’t have the healing one lie limp, as it could scratch or ding.”
Skeptically following, Dead Ringer slowly raised his good wing as he tried to watch the wise striped figure focus. Carefully Zecora laid the injured wing into its proper place on the creatures back. Giving a nod she signaled him to lower his good one on top. Doing so he lowered it.
Dead Ringer’s wings were now properly folded into place. Taking a step back Zecora watched as the bandaged changeling examined himself. The scene that followed was like a dog trying to look at its tail.
“How ya feelin’?” Apple Bloom asked with a smile. Content that the wing they damaged could now start on the road to recovery.
Finished studying his wing, the ebony colored changeling then proceeded to stretch. Giving each joint in his muscles a crack and a flex. After that he arched his legs as he crouched, then immediately and gracefully he leaped from the floor to the ceiling, to his viewers’ surprise. Then in an instant, he jumped from the wooden ceiling to a nearby wall, performing a forward flip as he flew. Then within another instant he jumped to the floor, landing in a crouched pose. The Crusaders were all left in shock and awe while Zecora looked rather calm, as if it was routine for changelings to literally bounce off the walls.
Carefully Dead Ringer stood up, giving his neck one final crack for measure. “… Better,” he finally answered passively. He wasn’t back to a hundred percent, but he was doing better then this morning.
“Dead Ringer?” Sweetie Belle kindly asked grabbing his attention. “Isn’t there anything you wish to say?” she said hinting at the helpful zebra in the room.
“Yeah,” he replied, turning toward Zecora. “How long ‘till I can fly again?”
Scootaloo scoffed, none the least surprised by his response. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle each gave the unnoticing changeling a pout. That clearly wasn’t the answer they were looking for.
Zecora however didn’t seem to mind. She was surprised she was able to get a ‘please’ from it in the first place. However the look she soon gave was enough to let the changeling know he was not going to like the news she was about to give.
“The future seems bleak. In its condition, your wing must mend for no less than a week.”
“A week?!” he screamed lunging into the now startled zebra’s face. “I can’t stay here for a week!”
“Oh come on!” Scootaloo shouted. “You can’t live off cupcakes and deal with us for less than a week?” Not that she was looking forward to dealing with the changeling for a whole week, but she took offense to that. She would be the first to admit that the three of them could be a handful from time to time, but it’s not like they were infected with Cutie Pox!
“You don’t understand!” Dead Ringer exclaimed, the sense of worry in his voice and eyes clear to all. “My Hive! My colony! They can’t--! They won’t--! I--! They--!” Releasing his built in aggression the angered soldier released a loud groan as he slammed his head against the nearby wall as he started mulling over everything.
This was horrible. He was trapped here! He was willing to wait it out for his mission, but not that far! Who knows how the colony was fairing without him there? He was gone from the Hive for too long as it was. Come to think of it, he didn’t know how long its been.
“One last thing,” he muttered to the wall. “How long has it been since both our races last intertwined?”
The question confused everyone for a second, until they realized where he was aiming. The Wedding Incident.
“Your answer is a well-known fact. It has been eight days, to be exact.”
Eight days. He’s been missing for over eight days. His mind soon drifted to the rules that governed him. The doctrine that keeps the Hive in order: The Compact. And by the strict guidelines of The Compact, after two weeks of no contact, said changeling is declared dead. Which means that come the fifteenth day, he would be dead and forgotten to the colony. Which would leave his chosen Lieutenant in charge.
Reflection...
A small hint of a smile crossed his lips as that name entered his mind.
At least he knew it was being left in capable hoofs. Knowing her she would’ve sent out half the colony to find him. However the fact she hadn’t already only meant two things: Either the army took a bigger beating then he realized, or something was going on in the colony that was keeping them. But knowing her she’d find way to find him.
Slowly his smile faded as a new thought crossed his mind.
And also knowing her she would go against the Queen to do it. The two of them had never seen eye to eye, despite his counsel. However that was the only issue the bothered him. Keeping the Soldiers in line, that his Lieutenant was capable of. The Drones of the other hoof were a different tale. He was the only Soldier they trusted. Reflection and Dead Ringer’s most trusted treated them well, but given his history with them, he was the only leader they would follow. All the more reason he had to return.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Walking there was out of the question, and no one here could help. All he could do was wait, and heal.
And plan.
Concerned over how quiet he's been, Apple Bloom moved towards the upset changeling, tapping him with her hoof. “You alright?” she asked kindheartedly. Dead Ringer turned to face her, his expression completely devoid of emotion.
Outside he looked empty, while in his mind he was at odds with himself. He couldn’t give an answer. Any would’ve just lead to more questions. And knowing these girls it would have been a lot. Right now there was only one thing he wanted to do.
“Girls,” he began in a deadpan fashion.
“Yeah?” they each replied in perfect unison.
“We’re leaving,” he said simply, heading for the door.
“Hold it right there!” Zecora called after him, stopping the changeling dead in his tracks. “You're not going anywhere.”
He turned to face a grimacing Zecora focused on him. He returned the look with full force, all the while masking his inner confusion over what she wanted.
“Children,” she said, giving the girls a smile that suddenly appeared from nowhere, “would you kindly step outside?” Still holding her smile, she peeked at a now confused looking changeling. “There is some special information for your student I have to provide.”
“Okay…” Apple Bloom said with a undertone of concern and reluctance as she headed for the door. While confused by what was going on, she figured Zecora probably wanted to discuss Dead Ringer’s wing. Doctors often talked with their patients about what they could and couldn’t do with their injuries. Usually in private.
Before walking out with the others, Scootaloo made a quick detour toward Zecora. Quietly she whispered, “If he tries anything, holler for us.” The only response Zecora gave was another smile. She was humbled by the young filly’s care, but she was certain she could handle herself.
When the last Crusader was out, Zecora turned to Dead Ringer, her expression less than friendly. “Now listen you will to my warning sir Dead Ringer, if in this land you wish to linger. The little ones might see you from a different view. But know I shall be keeping an eye on you.”
Not about to be intimidated Dead Ringer matched her scowl. “Is that a threat?” He paused a beat as he grimly said, “Zebra?”
Unfazed, Zecora continued adamantly. “I’m just telling you gently, because I care about their safety.” Slowly, she began to approach the changeling, her tone growing more and more cold as she continued her warning. “If anything happens to them, should they vanish without a trace, or even if a single hair is out of place, I promise I will find you. And when I do…”
Her eyes scanned him up and down, dropping him a hint. “Well, your wing won’t be the only thing that you will need to mend. Do you comprehend?”
The two just stood there, completely deadlocked as silence fell on the room.
Dead Ringer finally responded with a nod, not taking his eyes off her for a second. “Crystal.”
“Good,” Zecora answered, her calm voice returning to its regular tone.
Turning around, Dead Ringer faced the door. “By the way,” he began not even looking at her, “‘creature whose heart is black’? I get rhyming words must be part of your culture or something.” His head slowly lowered as he said with somber and bitterness, “But to have a heart that’s black would mean I had a heart to begin with.” Getting the last word out Dead Ringer took his leave, shutting the door with a sudden slam.
Zecora was left there in stunned silence as the changeling’s acid words hung in the air. Her head lowered as a small frown formed across her face. She didn’t know which revelation saddened her more. That changelings really didn’t have hearts? Or that someone has lead Dead Ringer to believe he doesn’t have one?
The nerve of her! Who does she think she is to treat me like that! In my homeland my underlings would’ve assaulted her for using such language with me!
Storming out, Dead Ringer didn’t even bother acknowledging Apple Bloom or the others when they asked what was up; he just kept walking. Chasing after they each called for him, pleading him to stop, or at the very least slow down.
“Hey Dead Ringer!” Apple Bloom cried after the departing changeling. “Wait up!”
“We can’t just leave!” Sweetie Belle added, looking back as she saw the light from Zecora’s hut growing dimmer and dimmer as they got further and further away. “We didn’t even say goodbye!”
Dead Ringer soon came to a complete stop. Unfortunately, the other three were still running.
“OOF!”
“OOF!”
“OOF!”
They cried one by one as they slammed face first into Dead Ringer’s hind leg. However, their collision didn’t seem to faze him. “Fine!” he said as he snapped in the direction of the faraway light in the distance that was Zecora’s hut. “Goodbye! There, said it, we’re going!” Resuming his pace Dead Ringer continued venturing further into the forest, only to stop when he realized the sounds of trotting hooves were silent.
Turning around, he saw the young Crusaders all standing there where he left them. Each wore looks of dissatisfaction, clearly not fond of his behavior. Seeing this caused him to release a heavy sigh.
“Look…” he began, his voice - to his listeners surprise - was softer than usual. “It’s going to get dark soon. We can’t waste time with formalities.” After how their last conversation ended, he wasn’t in any mood to speak to zebras anytime soon; at least one zebra in particular. Turning around, he continued on his pace. To his satisfaction, the sounds of hooves clopping against the grass started up behind.
Apple Bloom lowered her head as she followed after Dead Ringer. She really didn’t feel right up and leaving Zecora like that, but a good teacher always monitors its student. Even when they’re misbehaving.
Getting an uncomfortable feeling all of a sudden Apple Bloom looked to find Scootaloo staring at her with disdain. “What?” Apple Bloom asked, feeling uneasy over what’s got the young flyers wings in a knot with her.
“I told you this was a bad idea.”
“Hey!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, getting defensive. “Every student learns at their own pace--”
“Oh, will you get your head out of the apple orchard and come back down to earth?!” Scootaloo snapped rolling her eyes. “He’s not some troubled colt with a learning issue! He’s a giant insect who couldn’t care less about learning!”
“Wha I--!” Apple Bloom stumbled, feeling her footing in the conversation falter. “H-he said ‘please,’” she defended.
“Yeah, only because Zecora made him!” Scootaloo harshly countered. “You should just face it. This crusade’s a bust.” With the books and this so-called ‘field trip,’ Scootaloo was really losing faith in this crusade. Not that she had much faith to begin with.
As Sweetie listened to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo try and earn their arguing cutie marks, she couldn’t help but feel surprised at how quiet Dead Ringer was being throughout all this. After all he was the topic of debate here. As she watched him her eyes gradually fell on his ears. They were twitching and waving up and down in a disorganized fashion. It was almost like he was listening for something. But for what she did not know.
“So what, yer sayin’ we should just tell the adults what we did?!”
“I didn’t say that!” Scootaloo responded aggressively. “I just said we--” she jerked as she bumped into a hole-filled foreleg hindering her path.
“Wait,” Dead Ringer instructed, turning his head from side to side.
“Oh for the love of- what is it now?!” Scootaloo groaned. Is it too much to ask to go five minutes without an interruption these days?!
“We’re not alone.”
Scootaloo’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“Listen,” he said with a hushed pitch.
Lending an ear, each Crusader listened carefully to the sounds of the forest. Other than the regular sounds of a toad’s croaking and bugs chirping, the forest sounded like a forest. A really creepy forest, but a forest nonetheless.
Looking around, they didn’t see anything either. Nothing was in the area other than tall grass, bushes, and a bunch of scary looking trees. Again, nothing out of the ordinary in the creepy woods of the Everfree Forest.
Giving her eyes another spin, Scootaloo opened her mouth, ready to mock the changeling for being paranoid.
And that’s when she heard it. She and the others all heard it.
The distant sounds of feet slowly touching upon grass. The sounds of bushes being brushed aside which each step, followed by breathing. Heavy breathing. And they were slowly growing louder with each step.
“What are we gonna do?” Sweetie Belle whispered with haste. The fear in her eyes and voice was enough indication to show she was scared. Her friends, to her dismay, gave no response. They were just as scared as she was. Turning toward the only adult in the area, they were silently stunned at how calm he was.
Dead Ringer wore an impassive face, as the only emotion he conveyed was with his eyes as they danced from one area of the forest to the next, searching with grit.
He knew this would happen. Whatever followed him out here had waited for him. Whatever was out there, it - or they - were determined to claim their hunt, and their meal.
Facing the little fillies he was with, he could easily see the fear that was in them. They were clearly scared, and that posed another issue. The hunters of this forest always went after the ill and the weak. What attracted them the most was the one emotion a proper hunter would exploit when stalking its prey: Fear.
And they were dripping with it. Literally, they were each starting to sweat as beads of water dripped through their pores and across their foreheads.
Young, harmless, and frightened. They were easy targets. He had to act now, and fast.
“Listen to me,” he began with a calm voice so as not to worry them further, while firm at the same time. “I want the three of you to wait here, and this time I mean it.”
It, sadly, was not enough. “Wh-where are you going?!” Apple Bloom stuttered, wondering what the hay the changeling was thinking to achieve by leaving a bunch of kids alone?!
Turning toward the darker reaches of the forest where the noise and the scent were strong, Dead Ringer narrowed his eyes as he answered, “I’m going to lead whatever’s out there away.” He shifted an eye toward the girls. “Stay here and don’t make a peep. Understood?”
There was a quiet pause in the air as his words took time for the girls to take in. They didn’t know what they didn’t like more: Being stalked by some unknown creature, or being left alone.
Finally they each shook their heads, answering they understood.
“Good.” Dead Ringer started walking away, preparing to head off into forest, the parts that were draped in shadows. “I'll be right back.”
“You…” Sweetie Belle paused with uncertainty, “Promise?”
The moving soldier came to a complete stop. Slowly, he looked back, locking eyes with the young girls. Their gazes were still filled with fear, but now there was something extra in them. They were filled with a second emotion. Dead Ringer didn’t even need to smell it; their eyes were enough indication of what they were feeling.
Worry.
Are they… he paused mid-thought. Worried about me? He shook his head at such a thought. No it can’t be that! They’re probably just worried about themselves!
Not even responding, he resumed his pace, growing closer to leaving the clearing they were in, only to immediately stop again. Dead Ringer slumped his head and good wing in defeat, releasing a sigh. He couldn’t leave them like this. They needed something to brighten their mood. Give them a boost. But what?
Getting an idea he slowly he raised his hoof. This action caught the young Crusader’s eyes as he moved it over his chest, making a circular motion with it. Then he raised it to his wings, pointing at them with emphasis. Finishing off, he placed his hoof over his eye, carefully this time.
His strange behavior left the girls baffled. Whatever he did looked completely strange. And yet, familiar to them.
After pondering for a few seconds, it slowly came to them. Without the words to go with it, the ritual just looked silly and weird. Then again, it was silly and weird to begin with, especially when a changeling did it. But they remembered it.
A Pinkie Promise.
He Pinkie Promised.
“Wow,” Sweetie breathed giving a smile. “You actually got it--”
Dead Ringer gave her a sharp look, reminding her of what he just said a minute ago. His eyes traced each one of them, giving each the same message.
Understanding, they all nodded with a smile. The changeling just shook his head as he rolled his eyes. Turning back, he headed into the dark foliage, disappearing into the shadows. As he ventured further and further into the forest, not even caring how much noise his feet were making, a small smile curved at the edge of Dead Ringer’s lips in satisfaction.