Friendship is Survival

by rlogic1994


Ch 6: Survival

Friendship is Survival Ch 6: Survival
By Rlogic1994
(Visit the tumblr for Frigid: ask-frigiddrift.tumblr.com!)

Frigid awoke to the sound of rushing water and the feeling of something hard and rough against her leg. She tried to push whatever was grating against her leg, but when she moved her body went through a spasm of pain. She clenched her teeth, recoiling and trying to open her eyes. She immediately regretted it; the light almost blinded her. As she started to adjust to the surroundings, a single thought popped into her mind. “Where the hell am I?” she wondered to herself. After a few minutes of gritting her teeth through the pain of trying to sit up, she stretched her stiff body. It was at this point she realized how cold it was. Almost instantly she curled up into a fetal position and tried to warm her body up. As she wallowed around on her side, she rolled over and caught sight of something a few yards away from her down the shore. It was a mass of orange and magenta that was shivering and slowly unfolding what looked like wings.

“S-Scootaloo?” the white mare ventured, struggling to get the words out of her dry throat.

All she got in return was a weak grunt. At least they were both alive. She looked around, not recognizing any of the landscape. She looked at her companion more closely. The orange mare’s body was stained by dried blood and cuts all over her back. Her wings were sticking out at awkward angles, feathers un aligned and unorganized. Frigid shifted her attention to her own body, which because of the cold did not hurt too much. She could see several lacerations on her legs, cuts and bruises scattered along her back and torso. Now fully taking in their situation, Frigid lay down on the ground again and cried. She sobbed hard and let the tears pool up below her face.

She really didn’t care if any one heard her, even if all of Equestria heard her. She just didn’t care anymore. Her bawling rattled her body with convulsive shivers accompanied by sniffs. “Oh dear Celestia, why did it have to be her?” she though bitterly. She wailed for her own situation, for Scootaloo, for her friends on Team Alpha who were probably worried sick about her, and most heavy of all, the death of her friend Aurora. She didn’t remember when she felt the warm hoof on her front leg, but the feeling that someone else was there to share her pain helped lift some of the depression. She lifted her head from the tear-watered soil to meet the flooding purple eyes of an orange mare. Their meeting of eye contact said more than words could describe. It was a silent acknowledgement that they were both grateful for the other’s company in this horrible predicament. After what seemed like hours of regaining some of their heat and energy, Scootaloo asked the question Frigid had been trying to answer for half an hour.

“So where do you think we are?” asked the orange mare, wincing as she spoke.

“I don’t know…I can’t recognize any of this landscape at all.”

They decided that because Frigid’s wings were not as damaged as Scootaloo’s that the white mare would fly up and try to see the surroundings. Frigid took a couple deep breaths to calm herself down and started to ascend into the air. And it hurt badly. With each beat it seemed like her body would break, but she kept going with unbreakable concentration. When she had reached an adequate altitude she surveyed the expanse before her and went pale as she recognized where they were. When she landed Scootaloo’s worried face appeared in front of her, wondering why Frigid looked so scared.

“What? Where are we?” she asked.

“I could see the river going far into the mountains, and towards the north end of Blizzard pass,” she replied, not making eye contact but staring at the ground.

“North end? But that would mean…” the orange mare trailed off, afraid to answer her own question.

“Yeah. We’re way into enemy territory. Miles and miles in.”

They sat for a moment and thought about what to do. They obviously had to keep moving, but they had no supplies. They decided they would look for their saddle bags on the shore in case they had washed up. They hobbled and limped up and down the shore, looking under every piece of wood and rock. They were struck by luck when Frigid tripped over a tree branch that cleared some of the snow beneath it, revealing a bluish tattered saddle bag. It was Frigid’s. Scootaloo’s was just down shore in a pile of wooden debris. They tended to each other’s wounds for a moment, using the aid kits Fluttershy had kindly packed for them last minute. Frigid would have to thank her when she returned. “If she returned.” Frigid immediately discarded the thought; if she started thinking like that, then it would become the truth.


After cleaning and bandaging themselves, the 2 ponies started up river, carefully listening for any sounds of hoofsteps or worse, griffin wing beating. After about an hour of silence they started talking. Although it was hard for them to talk through their stiff throats, it helped pass time and distracted them from their situation. Scootaloo had been the first to say something.

“So…how about your dad? You seemed pretty pissed to see him…” Scootaloo offered, trying desperately to end the awkward silence.

“Yeah, well. When someone leaves your life without even as much as a goodbye, you tend to hate them,” Frigid snapped back.

“Wow. Sorry. It’s just I kinda know what it feels like. My parents, back when they were still running the grocery store in ponyville, used always spend time with me. Then when they got the big break with that inheritance money, well, I just wasn’t that important to them anymore. I remember the night I tried to spite them by sleeping in the Cutie Mark Crusaders Clubhouse when I was a filly. They didn’t even damn notice,” she replied, the bitterness in her voice unmistakable.

“It was pretty good for me too, until my dad left for the army. Then things got bad. I used to walk the streets at night to avoid listening to the yelling. There was always yelling. Something about protecting honor or some crap. It’s part of the reason I like the cold so much. It was usually cold on those streets, but I had time to think about my life and the world. It was me time. After the bastard left, well mom was just never the same.”

“Sometimes I wonder if my parents even think I’m a pony of my own. Not just some trophy they can wave around at special occasion. I mean I’m not a damn coat. They can’t just put me on and take me off whenever they like. I seriously doubt that that’s how actual families live.”

“Amen to that! I just don’t get it sometimes…” she faded, looking off into the distance.

She smiled at the orange mare, appreciating company that had experienced the magic of bad parents. But her small happiness was soon lost, as their conversation turned into an argument over something petty that Frigid didn’t remember anymore; the disagreement had been more out of spite than anything else. They walked for some time glaring forward. The anger melted fast when they started hearing noises, noises that sounded suspiciously like a market place. Their suspicions were validated by the scene visible from their hiding place in the bushes. It wasn’t a market place, but more of a labor force, lifting boxes and setting up artillery guns. It was only when both of the pegasi moved in closer did they see who the laborers were. It wasn’t just griffins. There were a few ponies in the mix as well, looking ragged and exhausted. They watched in silence as when the ponies had apparently finished their task, they were ordered to stand in a line in the center of the plaza. “What were they doing here? By the looks of those torn army suits…oh my Celestia, they’re prisoners!” she thought, realizing their true purose of being there by the white camouflage shreds that lay on their backs.

From above them, a griffin came into view, diving from the clouds and landing right in front of the line of ponies. He walked in front of them, stopping only to slash his claw at a particular pony who was wheezing more than the others. The blood trickled down onto the ground under the shaking pony, who didn’t have the resolve to get backup. Frigid watched in horror, unable to shift her attention. She was saved by a tug on her hoof by the orange pegasus next to her. She expected to see an expression of some worry on Scootaloo’s face, but looked into the eyes of a face that screamed fear. It was as if she knew what was coming and didn’t want to be there. “If she knows what’s next, why doesn’t she tell me?” she thought, puzzled by the pegasus’s retreat from action that she usually so enthusiastically described. Her pondering was answered by a set of sounds that came from the labor camp. There was a single gunshot, accompanied by a sickening thud, followed by a rapid succession of similar noises. She froze, stricken with sudden nausea of what she had heard and what she smelled, a fetid odor of blood. She closed her eyes and willed herself to keep moving, trying her hardest to erase the sound of the gunshots from her mind.

Soon they were travelling down the river again, listening carefully to any sounds that might hint an ambush or enemy troops. They tried to talk to each other to ease the shock of the execution, but no matter what, neither Scootaloo nor Frigid could get that dull thud out of her head. Plus, each time they tried to bring up conversation, it only ended in argument. The 2 pegasi were very different in a vast amount of ways. Scootaloo’s favorite time of the year was the summer, Frigid’s the winter; Scootaloo’s favorite Wonderbolt was Spitfire, Frigid’s Soarin’; Scootaloo was a mare who lived for the day, and Frigid lived for the night. As they progressed, which was painfully slow both because of the difficult terrain and their wounds, they learned that neither of them had much in common. But that wasn’t the only thing the 2 of them noticed as they travelled, Frigid had noticed some of the wounds on both their bodies were reddening as a sign of infection. The medical ointment had fallen out of their saddle bags when they had fallen into the river, so they had no way to treat the infections. The only way to treat them was a more direct approach.

“Scootaloo?”

“Yeah?”

“We can’t go on if we don’t do something about these cuts now. They’ll just fester and make things much worse.”

“Yeah I know, but how are we gonna treat ‘em without that cream stuff in the med packs?”

“*sigh* Well I think the only way we can is…well…what did she call it…cauterizing the wound.”

“Whoa whoa whoa! Are you kidding me? I’m not gonna burn myself just to make things a little easier! I mean-”

“If we don’t deal with it now, we’re not just gonna get slowed down, we are going to die.”

“…Well even if we do it. How is it gonna work? I mean I can’t do it to myself!”

“I’ll do it to you, then to myself.”

“Really? I mean…okay…let’s do it.”

They found some wood and started a fire with the flint in their bags. They used a shard of metal they found wedged between the bags and the strap. Frigid carefully put the piece in the flame with a long stick she attached the shard to, waiting for it to become hot enough. When a ting of red creeped into the surface of the metal she took it out and turned to Scootaloo. Who had torn off a piece of the bag as a gag to bite down on. She looked up with apprehension to the glowing metal and hesitantly nodded, closing her eyes and awaiting the pain. And oh Celestia did the pain come. The second it touched her, she went rigid, fighting the urge to scream and flail around in pain. The stench of burnt flesh burned Frigid’s nostrils, the orange mare baring her teeth and fighting the urge to move even harder when Frigid moved to the bigger wounds. The entire time Frigid was apologizing, trying to console the hurting pegasus. The white mare took one look at Scootaloo’s face and looked away, catching a glimpse of tears trailing down her cheek from wide eyes into the icy dirt. After a few minutes that seemed like hours, the ordeal was over and Scootaloo had passed out from the pain.

Frigid looked down at herself. “Here we go…” she thought, even more frightened than before after seeing Scootaloo’s reaction. She heated the metal up again and made a similar gag for herself. She took a deep breath and started. She did not even remember much when she was finished. Only crying, shaking, and pain that which Frigid had never experienced. As she slipped in and out of consciousness, she looked up to the dull monochromatic grey skies. As she fell out of consciousness for the last time, she thought “We’re gonna die out here.

Frigid gasped and shuddered violently at the feeling of freezing water on her face. The orange hooves that had dispelled the chilling fluid from a small cup, replaced the piece of plastic in its owner’s saddlebag. When Frigid got to her feet, her vision was blurry, although not disoriented enough to miss the sight of the soaking wet shivering pegasus in front of her. When she tried to move, the burns stretched and sent pain shooting through her body.

“Here, jump in the river for a few seconds, it’ll numb the pain.”

“O-okay…” Frigid struggled to get out of her gritted teeth as she made her way to the edge of the shore. She took a deep breath and jumped into the slow waters. She was greeted by an icy sensation that clawed her like a timberwolf. She gasped at the feeling of the cold water on her wounds, but soon could not even feel her hoofs let alone her wounds. When Scootaloo helped fish her out, Frigid lay on the shore wheezing and coughing. It had helped, but now instead of dying from the wounds, she was going to die from pneumonia. “Just great…” she thought bitterly. When they had recuperated for a while, they set off again. Once again they moved in silence, their bleak situation causing both of them to feel resentment towards everything in general, including each other. Every single thing that they talked about quickly descended into a shouting match that ended in either of them storming off. “I can’t believe her! She’s so difficult! Why can’t she just agree she’s wrong, I mean it’s pretty obvious. She’s probably just trying to get on my nerves. God why do I have to be stuck with her?” At that thought, she remembered the comfort of having a friend in isolation. She knew all too well the pain of having no one to turn to.

Several Hours passed, nothing there to console Frigid’s growing frustration but the loud rush of water on rock, which was gradually getting louder as the river narrowed. At least it blocked out the orange mare’s voice, which was constantly yammering away about some natural feature or another. After some time, Frigid was just able to tune it out. When Scootaloo nudged her a little hard, Frigid snapped at her.

“What was that for?!” she hissed.

“Shhh! Look! Down there by the clearing,” her companion whispered.

To their right, down the slope and in a clearing visible through the trees, were several details of griffins. But something was wrong; none of them were armed, but they walked about with an aire of ominous ferocity. Frigid was about to say something when the griffin who seemed like the leader did something to prove her fears. A bird was pestering the griffin by flying around its head. The griffin stopped, growled, and proceeded to savagely swat the bird out of the air with such speed her claw whistled through the air in a blur. The claw hit the ground, landing on a rock. But although her claw was fine even after smashing into the stone, the bird was not so lucky; it lay on the ground almost hidden in the brush except for an awkwardly jutting wing. The griffin said something indiscernible by the 2 pegasi eavesdroppers, but gave away that she was a woman with her voice. They both immediately recognized her. She was the warrior queen Kuolema. It is said that her name in the Griffin’s ancient language means “death”. Frigid cursed silently and met Scootaloo’s eyes, conveying a silent message that both of them understood: DON’T MAKE A SOUND.

They lay there against the frozen trees for around an hour before moving on. They had waited too long to start moving again; it was dark and they had not gone very far. But they couldn’t cry over spilled milk, so they split up to find shelter. Frigid barely heard Scootaloo’s cry over the increasing wind. As she neared the orange pony, she felt the temperature drop drastically. She reached a cave, the entrance of which was occupied by Scootaloo. They both went as deep into the cave as possible and tried to find something to cover themselves for the night. The blankets that were attached to their saddled packs were almost frozen from being soaked in the river. Frigid sighed, and knew what was going to have to happen.

“Well…we don’t have blankets, so we’re just gonna have to…well…”

“Well what?” Scootaloo inquired, knowing full well what Frigid was getting at.

“We’re just gonna have to huddle up next to one another and sleep…together…” Frigid replied, not very enthusiastically.

“…Alright I guess I’d rather sleep with you than die…”said Scootaloo, not realizing her wording.

“Hey! Don’t get any ideas…that’s not what I meant”

“What… oh god no! That’s not what I meant at all,” Scootaloo uttered as quickly as possible, reddening deeply in embarrassment.

They both laughed at it for little, both happy again to have each other in this hellish environment. Although she was vastly different from herself, Frigid could appreciate Scootaloo. At least she didn’t make fun of Frigid for how she used to be so shy and awkward, like every other filly and colt on Frigid’s street. Although she was a pain, Frigid was happy she wasn’t alone on this frozen tundra. They huddled up together to keep warm and tried to make things as little awkward as possible. But that was quite hard to avoid when both of them were so close to one another and yet their eyes were looking to anywhere but each other. Finally they both just gave up and tried to fall asleep. Although it felt weird to feel that way, Frigid fell into a calm sleep in the welcoming warmth of Scootaloo’s body heat. “I honestly don’t care anymore. I just wanna go home.

While the 2 pegasi were sleeping soundly, 3 warmares and 6 young recruits were restlessly without sleep in their tents, wondering where their friends were. In one tent, a purple Unicorn tossed and turned trying to get past what happened on the plateau. She finally gave up and though “We need to deal with this now.” She ducked out of her tent and started to make her way to the large General’s tent that sat on a particularly stormy looking cloud in the center of the higher clouds.