//------------------------------//
// Shades of Pastel, Lines of a Sonnet 
// Story: Umbreka 
// by Armanico Vita 
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	The dreaded thought of those demons lying in ambush for their group engraved itself into Sonnet's head. They could barely defend themselves from one or two of these at a time, but what if an entire swarm decided to charge at them in? Things would end tragically for the group, she already knew it. Splitting them up, breaking a wall in their defense would not be a difficult task to accomplish. If the threat of being overwhelmed ever drew near, they would all scatter, leaving each other to fend for themselves. In the end, it didn't matter how far they could run. They would all be hunted down, one-by-one, and consumed just as those who tried to escape the city during the first signs of trouble were.

Their city wasn't built with its military in mind. The main intent of Catarina was meant to be a powerhouse in the produce industry. Their city was a settlement of farmers built on the foundation of growing food to prosper and sell, not for defending against the supernatural. This meant that there was a lack of trained soldiers actually ready incase of an emergency as dire as this one. It was for the same reason there was only one pony actually trained in combating the demons on their land accompanying the group. He may seem rash and unprofessional at times, but Banter knew how to make an impression. He's traveled through the baneful fog on countless occasions in search of sane ponies who might still be surviving out in the forsaken burg. With his help, they could easily make it through the fog without any conflict. 

"Calm down everypony, the Basilisks can't wander past the white veil that they are bound to. Like chains, the fog binds them to their posts, living out their immortal days in a hazy trance." Ironhoof stated, his wisdom led him to act as the voice of reason in situations like this; this was one of the many reasons Sonnet looked up to him, not only as a leader, but as a fathering figure. "Without the fog, they begin crystalize and turn to stone."

During the consultation, Sonnet noticed a certain ginger-maned pony missing from the group. A few quick glances around revealed Pastel hunched over a broken off section of the tree. She nonchalantly paced over to her friend and peeked over his shoulder. He was examining the bloodied section of the branch with close scrutiny. There were feathers, of a daisy color, caked onto the surface. Along with the feathers, were clumps of fur, also the same color. Pastel scraped off a few flakes of the dehydrated blood in his hoof and brought up to his face in scrutiny.

"Caught you red handed Pastel, literally. I always knew you were a vampony since the moment a met you." Sonnet playfully announced her presence, causing him to jump back and yelp out of shock.

Pastel collected himself, clutching onto his chest for a quick breath of air. He let out a sigh of relief and then raised himself off of the ground. "Don't scare me like that Sonnet." He could only chuckle at how ridiculously jumpy he was. "You should know better than to confront us blood-suckers in such a manner. Last thing you need is for me to go feeding around the camp." Pastel said, raising his hooves up to his mouth. He opened his mouth, forming a wide grin, and pointed his hooves down as if they were needle-point canines. 

To this, Sonnet raised an eyebrow. She used her eyes to stare directly at him in condescending demeanor. "Sure pal, you of all ponies would be the least of my worries. If you were to try something, I'm positive I could easily pin your scrawny flank down; in fact, I have a couple of stakes back at the camp if you want to try me." Sonnet teased. "What's gotten you so jumpy anyways, did you find anything unsettling about the blood?" Sonnet asked.

"Yeah, I don't think Basilisks had any sort of involvement here, look at the blood."  He held his hoof out for examination. "It's still a fresh crimson. If we were looking at a bite injury, the tainted blood would have turned black with toxin." He motioned for her to come closer and see for herself.

"Hold up, are you saying we don't have anything to worry about then?" Sonnet grinned, a bit of relief filled her mind.

"Not exactly, we just don't have to worry about being cursed. What ever caused this could be anything from Ents to Wandering Hollow Ponies." Pastel raised himself off the ground and walked over to a collection of shrubbery. "What's got me so unsettled is that the blood isn't that of any of the woodland creatures. It's too thick to be a bird's blood. It has to be the blood of a pony, yet there are feathers marking the site." 

"Ponies don't have feathers though, right? Are you sure that it isn't canary blood or something?"

"I'm positive. My mother, who used to be a resident nurse at the city Hospice, taught me a little bit about what her job entitled. At the end of the day, when she was done caring for the fatally ill, she taught me about different medical studies---first-aide being one of them.

"Wait Pastel, where do you think you're going?" Sonnet interrogated. "You even said yourself, we don't know what could be roaming these woods. For all we know, that Capra Demon that has been constantly harassing our city could be looming in the concealment of the tall trees and innumerable shadows." 

"Do you think a Capra would wait in the shadows to strike a group of poorly armed travelers? You know from personal experience how they treat us ponies. It would strike us right now and wipe us out without a second thought, that's how those brutes are." Sonnet cringed, his remark stung her like a hot flame.

"O.. Oh, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have even brought that up around you. I was just trying to put you ease..." He let out a heart-felt sigh. "...and help you realize that everything is going to be alright." A frown began to furrow on the creases of his lips. The confidence in his eyes turned soft and his ears drooped down onto his face. 

Sonnet knew he didn't mean any harm by what he said. It was true, she had personally witnessed the heinous acts the Capra committed during his visit to their The event he was mentioning had drastically changed her life; whether it was for better, or worse, she has yet to find this answer for herself. "It's no problem, I'm not mad at you. That happened over five years ago, I've gotten over things by now... I just need to worry about taking care of my mom and myself above everything else right now." Sonnet shifted around on her legs. 

"Speaking of which, how is Cheyenne doing? I know I haven't been able to visit with you two at all the last couple of years and I'm sorry for that." Pastel reminisced about their foalhood. The two ponies used to be best friends all throughout their early lives. Back when the sky was still slightly visible from within the veil, they made the best out of the time they had spent together. The two would spend each day, after kindergarten, hanging out high above the cemetery grounds. Their meeting spot, a black oak on the outskirts of the resting grounds, proved to be a nice, secluded location for the two. Without the watchful eye of adults, the two were free to do what they pleased; This was back when it was still safe to wander the streets without a companion.

Sonnet brought her attention away the ground and looked Pastel in the eyes. "Last time I saw her, when we first left for Izalith, she was doing fine. She was a little worried about me when she first found out I signed up for this, but what do you expect? I'm all she has left in this world, and her and I are going to need to stick together if we both plan on making it though this mess." It was for this reason she had signed up for the trip to Izalith. She felt like she needed to protect her mom, and by bringing home supplies for the city, she would be doing just that.

"That's good to hear. Once we make it back home, I promise I'll drop by your house and help you take care of the place. With all the kindness your mom has shown me, it's the least I could do." Pastel said with sincerity. 

Sonnet chuckled, "Well, Cheyenne always did love you like her own child. I'm positive that she'd be elated to let you spend a couple of days at our house."

Sonnet gazed up into the sky, staring deep into the floating flame. The way it mysteriously warmed the forest in a relaxing bliss and how it sparkled with all of its essence appealing to her. Deep down, she knew she was just as curious as they all were to figure out what they were being led into. "Alright Pastel, I'll bite." Sonnet said, giving into temptation. "Let's just hope that you're right about this dangerous predicament, I'd hate to have to save you from becoming some monster's breakfast appetizer."

"Well, you better start hoping because we're about to find out." Pastel said. He placed his hooves inside the grooves of the hedge and shifted them around for a brief moment. The muscles in his forelegs tightened as he latched on to a pair of branches. Pastel turned his head to face his friend, "Are you ready?" he asked her.

Sonnet placed her hoof on his shoulder and gave a quick nod. Now with her consent, Pastel ripped apart a clearing in the barrier, allowing room for both ponies to push their way through the branches. What they saw was far from expectations. The magical aura they were chasing spiraled above their heads. Tiny sparks of light shimmered within the corkscrewing pattern. Sonnet looked deep in with bewilderment, she was caught in a trance by its alluring image. The time was now late in the morning, yet she could still see the starry night being displayed above. She could see a stream a residue trickling down from the center of it. The thick substance stretched down all the way onto the ground, coming in contact with, she couldn't believe her eyes, another pony. 

The duo walked forward, growing worrisome the closer they got to the pony. Splotches of blood painted the ground in the area it was laying. They now stood right over the winged pony, hovering in disgust. What was once a shocking discover now diverged into a dreadful sight. A mess of tattered feathers were strewn about, lining the site they arrived at. Red cloth dangled off of its wing, which now was bent perpendicularly away from the body. Sonnet peeled her eyes away from the mess, dragging them upwards to meet with Pastel's disgusted face. They both gagged at the putrid smell of death filling the air; they had to plug their noses to keep from getting sick. The pony wasn't dead yet, they could tell by the faint bobbing of breaths in its chest. Even with her lack of experience, Sonnet couldn't just condemn this thing to death. She lowered her hoof away from her mouth and plastered a determined look on her face. "Pastel, go get everyone else. Don't make me wait either." There might not be much left to save, but at least she would feel better knowing that she made an effort in doing so.