The sun shone down through the leaves of the forest, the dappled patterns swaying in the slight breeze. The late summer afternoon was pleasantly warm, and many of the minor nobles from the nearby Castle Redmont were enjoying the sunshine in the meadows near the castle. The woods themselves held a small wooden cabin. It was nondescript enough, with a well maintained porch, a small stable on one side, and a large door. Above the door, a small oakleaf insignia was carved into the lintel.
A few meters behind the house, a few targets had been set up. They were arranged in a haphazard pattern, seemingly spaced so as to confuse the archer in as best a manner possible. There was also a track parallel to the range’s firing line. All of a sudden, thundering hoof-beats was heard, followed by a small horse, almost a pony, galloping along. On its back, and astride the saddle, sat a small human in a green, mottled cloak. He seemed to blur in and out of focus. In his hands was a massive longbow, and a large number of arrows were poking out from behind his back. As the horse and rider passed the targets, multiple blurred motions, followed by a deep thrum, disguised the rider’s movements. Seconds later, dull thuds resounded throughout the clearing, emanating from the targets spread throughout the range. The rider slowed his horse, who responded by immediately stopping, not even winded by the exercise. The rider got down and patted the horse.
“Good boy, Tug,” the rider said, a boyish voice coming from beneath the cowl of the cloak. The rider proceeded to travel down the range, checking each shot. Every single one was embedded in the small red bulls-eye in the center of the target. However, the rider, obviously an archer of great skill, scowled beneath his cloak.
“I need more practice. I’ve been putting it off for too long. This shot is a few centimeters away from the center. I should have hit here,” he pointed to a spot in nearly the exact center of the target. “I can’t let Halt see this. What do you think, Tug, another round?”
The horse didn’t answer, of course, but Will fancied he could see his response through the eyes. They seemed to say, You should have practiced earlier.
“I know, I know. Let’s go again.” The young man collected his arrows and jumped back on his horse, the silver oakleaf pendant around his neck flashing briefly in the sun. The man absently put the pendant back into his tunic while Tug cantered towards the beginning of the track. The horse again ran towards the target, and again the deep thrum filled the small clearing. The arrows all struck home, digging into the hay-stuffed linen targets. If one paid close attention to the shots, one would notice no two arrows went to the same target, and the rider constantly changed the pattern of his shots and which target he shot at next.
The rider continued the practice throughout the day, occasionally breaking to give his horse a rest or to take a quick meal. The rider also changed his practice, pulling out two knives from his belt and tossing them at soft pine targets nestled in another area. One of the knives was a large, Saxe-like knife; the blade was wide, with a leather-wrapped hilt and a small brass pommel. The other knife was a smaller one, more attuned to being thrown. Both knives were perfectly balanced. He would also alternate between riding on his horse and standing, running, crouching, jumping, and all sorts of other combinations. It was as if he was preparing for both a massive battlefield and quick surprise attacks. He was a great warrior, one could tell just from his familiarity of his weapons. Unbeknownst to the rider, however, he was not alone. In the branches of a nearby tree, a small crone sat. Her image shivered and waved, as if she was made of vapor. She studied the man before her muttering under her breath,
“Oh, yes, I know this one,” she said, her voice a crackly, grating whine, “He is the one of whom the prophecies speak. This Will Treaty. He is the one who will ruin my plans. No, I must stop this. How much longer till the time is right?” She asked of no one in particular, looking at a small glass ball in her hands. “Oh, no, it’s almost too late!” She almost yelled, her voice never carrying past the tree. She began to chant in an unknown language, performing gestures with her hands and throwing bits of powder. She finally pointed at Will, a curl entering her fingers. She watched as the small figure on the horse disappeared in a flash of light, releasing the first arrow of the drill just before he vanished. The arrow thudded home into the center of the target, wobbling slightly.
_____________________________
Will released the first arrow, feeling, rather than seeing, the arrow hit home. He reached for the next arrow, but a huge flash of white light enveloped him. Tug reared, dropping Will. Will instinctually turned, so as to save his arrows, but was too late to see the large rock on the ground. His head cracked against it, knocking him out instantly, while Tug whinnied and turned to check on his rider.
_____________________________
Fluttershy was sleeping soundly, having just fed the last nocturnal animal under her care. She was dreaming about buying a nice large animal shelter, with spaces for any animal she might have to take care of. She would have a few trusted friends to help her, and Twilight would have a library filled with books about animals, and Fluttershy would have a nice, new doctor’s coat. She smiled, her dream filling her with good feelings. Suddenly, someone brought in a huge stallion, whose whinnies filled the shelter. Then a second whinny shattered her dream and bringing Fluttershy back into the land of consciousness.
She looked around for a moment, disoriented. It took her a moment to realize what had awakened her, and then peaked outside to see what was wrong. Outside her front window, a huge stallion stood, nuzzling something on the ground. The stallion dwarfed Big Mac, and was built strangely. His hooves were black, while his coat was brown. His legs were similar to those of the cows at Applejack’s farm. His eyes were small and black, and his body was heavily muscled. In fact, he reminded Fluttershy of a Cro-Hoofnon drawing she had seen when looking through some of Twilight’s books. On the stallion’s back was a saddle, with a few saddle-bags tied to it. The thing the stallion was nuzzling was a small, green-wrapped thing. It was breathing, so Fluttershy guessed it was a pet. It seemed to be hurt. Fluttershy swallowed her fear, opening her door to see if she could help. When she walked out, she heard the stallion talking.
Will, Will wake up! Come on Will. What’s wrong?
The voice reminded Fluttershy of the voices she heard of her animal friends. It wasn’t resounding, and it didn’t echo. Fluttershy stopped for a second, wondering why he was not speaking Equestrian. Then she shrugged, moving forward to help the injured animal.
“Umm, excuse me sir, is, umm, there a problem?” Fluttershy asked, approaching the stallion.
Who are you, little horse? Are there any healers around? Will won’t wake up!
Fluttershy flared at the insult, but it died down almost immediately, replaced with concern. “Is Will your pet? I-I can help him. I take care of many animals.”
What are you talking about? He’s my human. Are their any human doctors around?
“Umm no, I… what’s a human? Let me bring him inside, you’re welcome in too, I guess, I’ll try to help him.” Fluttershy moved towards Will, intending to get a look at the animal, to see what was wrong, but the stallion moved in front of her, stopping her.
What do you mean what’s a human? Look, I mean no disrespect, but you trying to treat him would be… like.. well, me trying to treat him. I guess I can let you try, but if you so much as hurt his little toe, I will ground you into a pulp.
Fluttershy gulped, but nodded, and walked towards the now unprotected Will. She moved aside the cloak covering him, and turned him over. She gasped. “I’ve never seen any animal like this before. Oh, umm… I think he’s hurt his head.” Maybe if I use ice, and those new casts the vet sent me… "Umm.. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?” Fluttershy had begun to dart around, her sympathy for the animal in front of her trying to get past her fears of the outside world. She pointed the last question to the large stallion standing next to the animal, still nuzzling him and looking at Fluttershy with a penetrating gaze.
I am Tug.
Fluttershy nodded, turning towards the animal. She picked him up, grunting with the weight, and began to drag him inside, fluttering her wings to try to gain extra power. Tug let out a whinny in surprise at her wings, but he helped Fluttershy move the animal onto her couch. She asked a few questions about Will’s diet and other needs, but Tug just told her not to worry about it. Fluttershy nodded, ran and grabbed the bandages and other things she needed, before returning to Will and wrapping his head tightly. She then bade the stallion goodnight, and proceeded upstairs to sleep.
____________________________________________
Will woke up suddenly, but his instincts immediately took over. He forced his breathing into a regular pattern, seeming to still be asleep. He covered his sudden intake when he woke up with a turn of his body. He risked a quick peek from under his eyelashes, peering into the green lattice of the couch he was on. He cursed silently, realizing it was too late to try to turn around. He listened carefully to the areas around him, waiting to see if he was safe. He still felt the familiar weight of his knives on his belt, but his cloak and quiver were missing. He heard a few footsteps from behind him, as whoever was approaching leaned over his side. He took this moment, jumping up and twisting in the same movement. He grabbed the neck of his victim, feeling the soft fur of the person’s coat. His saxe was already in his hand and at the throat of the helpless person in front of him. Will realized he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet, silently praising himself for the quick reaction. He opened his eyes, and saw a large, pink hairdo in front of him. Underneath, being held at the throat, was a pale yellow horse about half the size of Tug. The horse stared at him with immense fear in its eyes.
He released the horse, falling into a crouch as he inspected his surroundings. He was in a small unfamiliar cottage. There was furniture and a few pictures around, though Will just thought they were well-done paintings. He furrowed his eyebrows at the overabundance of wild animals throughout the cottage, all of which were staring at him with a mix of horror and curiosity. He completed a 360, seeing a small, white rabbit that would have made a nice stew if he had had the time, before finally setting his gaze on the small yellow horse in front of him. Will sighed, sliding his saxe back into its well-oiled sheathe. He bent down and rubbed the head of the small animal, just accepting it as a fluke of nature. He had stopped being surprised by these things ever since he met Malcolm’s troupe.
“Well sorry there, little fella,” he said, in the same voice he used for the teenaged Ebony, “Where has your master got to?” He proceeded to search the house, absentmindedly scratching the bandage on his head. He found the whole house was empty save for the abundance of animals. For some reason, the miniature yellow horse was following him. After succeeding in finding nothing, he sat down on the couch he woke up on to think. He was in a house surrounded by unfamiliar animals. He had been hurt somehow, but the last thing he remembered was training with Tug. He had been there all day, and through some of the night. He couldn’t remember anything after that. Just a blank space. All of a sudden, he remembered Tug, and, guiltily whistled for him. At the whistle, the ears of most of the nearby animals, including the yellow one, went down while they jumped in surprise. Will was oblivious of their discomfort, waiting for the answering whinny. He did not have to wait long. A very familiar sound came from a nearby open window, and the head of a very-familiar horse poked in.
“Where have you been?” Will asked, absently rubbing Tug’s head. The horse didn’t respond. Will shook his head and soothed his horse, commanding him to wait outside on alert. Will turned around, intent upon exiting the cottage, and immediately tripped over the yellow horse that had been following him. The horse toppled over, crying out in a very human-like way. All of a sudden, Will saw a flash of white and orange launch itself from a position on high. Instinctually, Will drew his saxe, knocking the thing down to the ground and stabbing into the belly of the would-be assassin. At the exact same moment, Will heard a gasp from behind him, and an obviously female voice begin to speak. For some reason, Will wanted to classify it as ‘shouting,’ even though it was a soft, quiet voice.
“No, don’t hurt him!” It said. Will finally looked down at what he had stabbed, and found a bunny in his grasp, a carrot held like a knife. The saxe was buried deep into the wood between the bunny’s legs. A scared, but determined expression was on the human-like face. Will sheepishly turned around, beginning to apologize.
“Look, ma’am, I’m sorry for reacting like that, but—“ He trailed off, there being no one behind him except for the yellow horse. The thing was shaking with fear, one of its forehooves extended.
“King’s Ranger. Show yourself!” Will commanded, turning his normally boyish voice into a deep, threatening growl. He wrenched his saxe from the wood, changing the grip and pulling his throwing knife from its sheath. “Where are you?” Will said again, searching around for even the slightest movement. The voice spoke again, emanating from the small yellow horse in front of him.
“I-I’m here. Just.. don’t hurt my animals, please.” The horse threw open it’s outrageously proportioned eyes in such a cute puppy-dog face that Will was instantly ashamed, even if he was alarmed at the sheer impossibility of a talking horse. Will talked to Tug, and he fancied Tug responded, but this was way to far out of his league. The last time he met a talking animal was when Malcolm insisted that he and Halt take a ‘self-discovery’ journey and force-fed them mushrooms.
“Look, talking-horse-thing, I’m sorry for attacking your rabbit, but where am I, and who are you?”
The horse stared indignantly at Will, raising its voice to regular speaking decibels. “I am not a horse! Can’t believe you would say that. Hasn’t your owner at least taught you manners? I am a pony. My name is Fluttershy, and you are in my house because your kind owner brought you here for healing. On top of that—“ she trailed off, emitting a soft ‘eep’ and then began speaking again in a very quiet voice, almost trying to hide behind her mane. “I’m so sorry, I just can’t control myself sometimes, ever since Iron Will I’ve been having problems. Look, I know this may be confusing for you, but your owner brought you here some how. You had a nasty cut on your head, but I fixed you up. Umm, your owner was too big to come in here, he wouldn’t have been comfortable. I lent him the bear’ lean-to I made for the night. He was very anxious to meet you. Umm, though he did poke in here when you whistled.”
Will looked at the pony for a moment, surprised at the sudden changes in demeanor. “Well, umm, Fluttershy, you’re mistaken. Tug isn’t my owner. I’m his owner, although I don’t like to think of it that way. He’s more of my companion. Do you know how I got here?”
“Well, Tug didn’t say, he was more concerned about you. Why don’t you ask him?”
Will contemplated for a moment, then came up with a good reply. “Well, you see, where I come from, horses, and ponies I guess, don’t talk, in fact only us humans talk. You don’t know how strange it is to find myself talking to a yellow pony. Imagine trying to talk to a cow.”
“But I talk to them all the time, they’re some of the most intelligent people I know, aside from Twilight.”
Will facepalmed, “Nevermind, just drop it…” The conversation lulled for a moment, then Will spoke up again. “What did you do with my cloak, and other items?”
“Oh” said Fluttershy, “I’m so sorry, I just put them in here for safekeeping, they were in the way when I tried to bandage you, so I moved them where nopony could get to them.” She pulled out his quiver and bow, wrapped in the cloak, from a nearby cupboard.
Will donned his gear, feeling better now that he had his tools. Will turned to talk to Fluttershy again, but was interrupted by a soft whinny. Fluttershy looked towards the sound, feeling concerned as Will melted into the shadows of her cottage.
“I wonder what’s wrong.” She said, turning to talk to Will, but he had disappeared. “Oh, where did you—“ She was interrupted when a huge blast blew open her door. In the doorway stood a blue cyan pony with a rainbow mane. The pony dragged huge gasps of air, until finally saying something in an equally feminine, but many times more powerful, voice as Fluttershy’s.
“Fluttershy! Some strange green monster just appeared in town, with some sort of cave-pony. And Pinkie was the first to talk to him!” The pony exclaimed, while Fluttershy ‘eeped.’ “Twilight said to gather our friends, and something about the elements possibly being needed. I think she just wants your way with animals, but this one is meaner than anything I’ve seen.
In the shadows, Will grinned.