//------------------------------// // Rhyming is Hard Sometimes // Story: Where's the Beef? // by Mare Macabre //------------------------------// Breakfast was quiet. Or rather, Fluttershy was quiet at breakfast. Twilight and Spike chatted casually about plans for their stay in Canterlot, talking about ponies and places that Fluttershy remembered them having mentioned before. She, all the while, was quiet, considering her omelet carefully each time she sectioned it with her fork. It was made of egg. And egg from a chicken. Possibly an egg from one of her chickens. Had the egg been fertilized, and had it then been allowed to hatch, it would have become another chicken. Another creature. She pushed the cheesy egg into her mouth. Of course, she knew all this already. It was something she’d considered many times before. But it was also not something she took too seriously. She ate eggs all the time in baked goods. Without the pasty texture and subtle flavor of eggs, most breads and cakes and muffins and...really anything baked, simply wouldn’t be palatable. They wouldn’t be outright disgusting, but every attempt she made to find an alternative ended with results that were just...not as good. Fluttershy glanced at her hosts, wondering if they ever considered eggs in such a light, but quickly shot her focus back to her plate as Twilight looked her way. ------------------- Angel watched silently from the doorway, crossing his arms as Fluttershy flipped a page from the top of one stack to the other. She had seemed happy when she returned from Twilight’s house early that morning, but had become quiet and serious once she began to read. He glanced at a window, noting that it was already late into the afternoon, then wandered into the kitchen to retrieve a snack for his distracted friend. Fluttershy, for her part, was diligent. The uppermost pages of the information Twilight had provided her with were mostly articles published by zoologists about various species observed in the Everfree or old periodicals about pony/dragon culture clashes. Past those, however, Twilight had copied down some passages from large works on psychology about binge eating and habit-forming foods. It was closer to the mark, especially with some of the quotes from patients suffering from habitual eating disorders, but ultimately did little to help her. The tired pegasus let her cheek rest on her hoof as her eyes continued to scan the papers laid out in front of her, her eyelids drooping and breathing slow. She gradually came to realize that this was the section of the stack after Twilight had switched to auto-copy, transcribing anything that had whatever trigger words she had decided to use as reference. Fluttershy had considered skipping to a random point in the middle of the stack, but quickly realized that she had no idea when this trend in note-taking began or how much potentially helpful information she might miss by doing so. In the end, she decided to at least glance through every passage for anything that stood out. She owed Twilight at least that for taking all these notes to start with. A gentle prodding in her side made her flinch and sit up, finding Angel sitting beside her with a carrot in-paw. She let out the startled breath, taking the offered snack with a smile, and leaned back in her chair as she took a break from her exhausting study. She bit into the carrot, the firm snapping sound and hard texture reminding her of bone, and felt an involuntary shiver make its way down her spine. She closed her eyes as she shifted the segmented vegetable to her crushing molars and, very slowly, very forcefully, put pressure on it until it split with a resounding crunch. Her muscles jittered again. Color flooded to her face. The pastel pegasus took a long, slow breath as she repeated the process, compressing the firm yet spongy root beyond its breaking point and twitching slightly as she heard and felt it snap inside her mouth. She opened her eyes, her lips titling at the sides into a smile, then opened her mouth and brought her jaws together like a hammer on the carrot, ripping and crushing another piece off of it. She chewed quickly, hungrily, and swallowed the jagged mass with a powerful shiver, then began gnawing on the blunt end of the root in her hoof. Fluttershy moaned as she chewed idly on the carrot, happening to glance back at the floor, then straightened up and spit it out. Angel was still standing beside her, watching with a cross between worry and something Fluttershy couldn’t place. She winced as she looked at him again. Angel seemed like he wanted to run from her, but tentatively inched forward and put a comforting paw on her side. Fluttershy deflated from her stark upright position, letting out her held breath, and gently patted his head. “Thank you, Angel,” she said quietly. The rabbit nodded and left the room, somewhat obviously forcing himself to look nonchalant. Fluttershy watched him leave, a sad smile on her face, then turned back to her notes. The projectile carrot had knocked the stack of papers into disarray, her current place lost in the sea of loose-leaf that fanned out across her desk. Fluttershy brought a hoof to her face and loosed a long sigh. “I guess it’s just as well. I wasn’t finding anything useful at the top,” she mused. She picked the carrot off her desk and returned to idly chewing on the end. Her head drifted down to her other hoof as her eyes lazily scanned the now exposed articles and passages. She wondered in passing if it had been Angel’s intent to see how she would react to the carrot – if he was testing to see if it was safe to be near her – and then if she had passed the imaginary test. Given his face when she looked at him, she guessed not. She reached down with the carrot and stirred the papers around on her desk, exposing new sections and obscuring old ones, then brought it back to her mouth, but paused. She righted her head, letting the supporting hoof lower from her face, and gripped the carrot in her teeth as she sat up and pushed some papers out of her way. Fluttershy frowned as she picked up a particularly wordy sheet of paper. She read the title again, twice, then slowly moved the carrot from her mouth to the table. “This potion...” she read in a whisper, scanning the recipe, “...the user the ability...take the form of a wol—“ Fluttershy stopped, her eyes wide. She slapped the paper down onto the desk and stood up, wandering to the middle of the room and dropping onto her rump. She looked around the room, ensuring Angel was away or otherwise occupied, then rested her head in her hooves. “This...this must be from when Twilight was on auto-pilot,” she decided, lifting her head. “She wouldn’t...I-I shouldn’t have this.” She turned back toward her desk and stared at the paper. Her wings fluttered thoughtfully. Her lips pinched together. She shot a glance at the kitchen door, then quietly stood and tip-toed back to her desk. Her eyes remained fixed on the kitchen as she picked up the paper and brought it close to her face, waiting for any sign of her rabbit friend, then quickly began sweeping over the rest of the page. “Change is complete...lasts an hour for every ounce consumed...three hours to brew...” Fluttershy’s face flushed and she anxiously glanced at the kitchen again. “Oh...No!” she snapped suddenly, throwing the paper down. “No, I shouldn’t! I won’t!” She trotted away from her desk and over to her door, opening it and starting outside, then paused. She lifted a hoof, meaning to continue on her way, but set it back where it was. She set her jaw, her lips clenched and brow furrowed, and glanced sideways. Her saddlebags hung from a rack on the wall just by her door, the breeze she had let in making them subtly swing on their hook. Fluttershy looked forward. Her eye twitched, a bead of sweat seeping out of her coat and sliding down the side of her face. She lifted her hoof again, determined to exit her house, but suddenly swung it around and grabbed her saddlebags. She threw them on quickly, her eyes shut tight and face screwed up in anger and regret, then rushed back to her desk and grabbed the recipe before bolting from her house and slamming the door behind her. ---------------------- Fluttershy sat quietly, facing away from the rounded door to the hut behind her. She had found a few of the items on the list of ingredients on her own, but there were some she’d never heard of before, and the copied passage had no pictures or descriptions to help her find them. She’d realized quickly that only Ponyville’s “local” apothecary and mystic would have the knowledge she needed, but she also knew that she couldn’t simply walk in and show her the recipe. Even if she explained that it was for Twilight for some kind of experiment, her paranoia convinced her that the quick witted zebra would be suspicious. She looked at the list again, then back at the door. She stood, studying the list one last time, then stowed it in one of her saddlebags. “Maybe if I just ask for the ingredients, she won’t know...” she murmured as she hesitantly tapped on the door. The door opened almost instantly, making Fluttershy rear back and spread her wings. “I had wondered when you would intrude,” Zecora mused in her usual lyrical tone. She ushered the startled pegasus inside and closed the door. “Tell me, friend, what can I do for you?” Fluttershy cursed herself for not being more aware of herself as she stepped into Zecora’s hut. Once inside, her eyes began scanning the large main room, searching for anything that might be what she was looking for, but Zecora had stepped in front of her and was waiting for a reply. “Um...W-well, I...” she stared, nervously rubbing her shoulder. “Twilight is off in Canterlot, but she has a...something she’s working on. She asked me to get some ingredients for her.” Zecora nodded and wandered over to a cabinet. “Always working, that silly mare. Did she give you a list? Is that it there?” Fluttershy quickly glanced at her saddlebag to see that the edge of the paper was sticking out, and covered it with a cough. “N-no! That’s...a grocery list. For later,” she lied, starting to sweat. “Uh...I know what she needed though. It was...um...” Fluttershy furrowed her brow, suddenly finding it difficult to recall the recipe. “Uh...mugwort...clove...um...dragon’s breath...” She looked up and found Zecora eyeing her with a touch of suspicion, and quickly looked at something on her wall. “Um...blue...blue something. Blue grape...hyacinth?” Zecora’s eyebrow slowly drifted upward as Fluttershy finished her list. She looked at her cabinet, singling out each of the ingredients with her eyes, but turned back to her guest. “Their uses together are surprisingly few,” she said, meandering back toward the increasingly uncomfortable pony. “What is it that Twilight intends to do?” Fluttershy looked from one spot to another, carefully avoiding looking directly at the zebra. “Sh-she didn’t say...” she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. Zecora stepped up to her nervous guest, shifting her head to make eye contact with her, but the panicked pegasus looked elsewhere. “Why will you not meet my eye?” Zecora asked sternly. “Do you fear something, Fluttershy?” She cocked her head as Fluttershy stammered quietly, then continued. “Is it me that has you stunned? Or is it what you have become?” Fluttershy’s jaw stopped moving. She stared ahead for a moment, then slowly turned her head to meet Zecora’s gaze. The zebra let her expression soften slightly, a knowing look flashing across her face. “H...h-ho-how d—“ “Contrary to what you may believe,” Zecora interrupted, “I know most all that happens among these trees.” Fluttershy’s face turned crimson as she dropped onto her rear, her tensed muscles loosing, and her vision was suddenly blurred by a pool of welling tears. “You...you know what...” She grit her teeth. “You knew what I was doing?” Zecora raised a hoof defensively. “I had heard there was a monster in the woods. Had I known it was you, I’d have helped if I could.” Fluttershy relaxed her jaw, then turned her eyes to the floor. “Can you help me?” The mystic became pensive, studying her downtrodden guest, then stood and trotted over to her worktable. She looked at a number of bottles and vials on the upper shelf, titling her head left and right as she shifted her attention from one to the next. Eventually, she picked a small vial out of a rack and returned to her guest. “I might be able to see what’s amiss. But first I must ask that you drink this.” Fluttershy took the tiny bottle of clear liquid with a frown. “What is it?” “Beast of burden they call it, you see? It will allow me to examine you properly.” Fluttershy looked up from the vial, her frown now one of concern. “That...that was kind of reaching for it,” she said quietly. “Y-you can stop rhyming if it’s a bother.” Now Zecora frowned. “Rhyming is a part of my personality. To stop is simply not a possibility.” Fluttershy considered pointing out that personality and possibility don’t technically rhyme, but decided instead to focus on the potion in her hoof. She uncorked the small container, lifting it to her lips, but hesitated. “Does it taste bad?” Zecora opened her mouth to respond, then paused, then simply shrugged. Fluttershy frowned at her response, but continued regardless. She threw her head back and downed the little bottle in one gulp, hoping to spare herself of whatever flavor it might have, but still found herself gagging on an aftertaste similar to sweat. “Eugh. What’s in this?” she grimaced. “The brew is not important now,” Zecora shrugged. “Only what it does, and how.” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, one again conflicted about whether she should speak, but jumped to her hooves as a sharp tingling sensation flooded her body. She jittered uncomfortably, wincing as paresthesia filled her muscles, then gasped as those muscles began to expand. She looked back at herself, her eyes widening as her extra fat was replaced with a thick, powerful layer of muscle. The startled pony spread her wings, flexing her newly invigorated body. “O-oh...” she murmured, looking over her expanding forelegs, “Oh my...” Zecora watched as the potion did its work, making the meek and slightly chubby pegasus into a brawny tank of a mare. Eventually she stopped inflating, her rolling expansion petering to a halt, and the herbalist began to circle her, studying her now incredibly pronounced anatomy. She narrowed an eye and cocked her head, leaning in closer to the bulky pony’s flank and examining the rippling fibers beneath her coat. Fluttershy blushed as she continued to circle, pausing to study her hind legs as she looped around to the other side. After a full rotation, the zebra broke orbit and wandered to a shelf covered in books, papers and scrolls. “Some interesting things I already see,” she commented, pushing papers aside and checking titles. “You may have something...different in your family tree.” Fluttershy blinked and looked at herself again. “What do you mean?” Zecora returned to her side with two scrolls. She unrolled them both, evidently looking for something, then held each up in front of herself, looking from the scroll, to Fluttershy, and back. She did this a few times, rolling through one scroll constantly, until she apparently found what she was looking for and nodded slowly. “Hmm,” she mused, stepping around to Fluttershy’s back. The reddening pony started to turn, but a firm hoof on her left haunch kept her in place. Fluttershy looked back at her examiner, tucking her tail between her legs, and let out a breath as the zebra finished making her comparisons and moved to her other side. She leaned in close to Fluttershy’s wing this time, holding the often-adjusted scroll next to it, and clicked her tongue as she folded it and continued to the pegasus’ face. “Open your mouth, if you please,” Zecora asked, rolling to a new spot on the scroll. “I will be quick, and compliance will let me work with ease.” Fluttershy hesitantly opened her mouth, and Zecora gently pulled it open wider. She tilted and bobbed her head, studying every corner of her guest’s mouth, and consulted the scroll constantly as she hummed and nodded with her discoveries. After a few moments, she guided Fluttershy’s jaw shut and looked intently into her eyes. Fluttershy leaned back from her slightly, but let her work, following her hoof as it waved between them. The herbalist gently took a hold of her client’s head and steered it left, right, up, and down, then released it. She looked over her notes in the scroll one last time, comparing it to the one that had remained open to the same spot, then murmured something to herself and returned them to her bookcase. “I believe I know why these changes have occurred,” Zecora finally said as she wandered back. “For some reason they were repressed while you matured.” Fluttershy frowned, about to ask questions, but was quieted by a raised hoof. “What made this begin, I cannot explain. As for what’s happened, the answer is plain. Your blood is not pure – not pony, anyway. But this is no curse, though it may seem that way.” “But what am I then?” Fluttershy blurted, just barely noticing Zecora’s poor rhyme. “From all of what I can see, there is some gryphon in your history.” The musclebound pegasus poised herself to speak again, but stopped. Her brow dropped, her open mouth stretching into a confused frown, and she lowered her raised hoof to the floor. “Gryphon?” she asked, as though testing the word. “In...I’m...what?” “Only part,” Zecora nodded, “And a small one too. But enough to cause great trouble for you.” “But...no, no hold on,” Fluttershy shook her head. “How could I...I mean, there aren’t any gryphons in my family.” “None for a long time, I would guess,” the zebra agreed. “But of all answers I can find, this fits the best.” Fluttershy looked at the floor and turned the idea around in her mind. Gryphons, she had heard at least, were typically mountain dwellers or lived in forests, and had a much less technologically advanced society than ponies. They preferred to live like that; they enjoyed the wild and all the perils and serenity it had to offer. They were loners, living on their own or with small family units, and typically bonded with only a few others in their lives. Pegasi, by contrast, were very social creatures. In truth, much fewer than were employed in any given town could manage the weather, but the interactions between others made it much smoother and much more enjoyable work. Their cities, the few they built, were industrious and metropolitan – designed and engineered to create a very close-knit society no matter how spread out amongst the clouds individual dwellings might drift. They almost always lived in the sky, very rarely settling for landforms with high-altitudes, and considered themselves unlucky if they found themselves in a forest for any reason beyond flying practice or fun. Fluttershy continued to stare, but the confusion and anger slowly disappeared from her face. She had hated living in the sky – what she could remember of it, at any rate – and, almost more than that, had hated living in such a tight-knit community. When she eventually built up the funds, the first thing she had been sure to do was move to a nice spot on the ground and ensure that it was as far away from the mainstream of her community as possible without actually being in the wild. It was a relief when she finally extracted herself from the bustle of crowds and awkwardness of her general dislike for social situations, and she reveled in the fact that she had so much room to herself and so few troublesome neighbors to deal with. Were she a bit braver, she might have even set her cottage further into the wild, actually placing it within the borders of the Everfree. The muscular pegasus blinked slowly. Another, final, detail she realized that she shared with her winged kin was the fact that, while they could eat fruits and vegetables, they almost always preferred to hunt rather than forage. She lifted her head and met eyes with Zecora, silently passing on her revelations, and the zebra gave her a somewhat sad smile. “I am sorry things have ended up this way,” she said softly, placing a hoof on Fluttershy’s beefy shoulder, “But I promise you, it will be okay.” Fluttershy sagged slightly, appearing battered and defeated, and sighed. “How?” Zecora removed her hoof from her shoulder and returned to her ingredient cabinet. Fluttershy watched her pick something out of a cup beside it, then reach inside and fiddle with something until the cabinet let out a loud click! The herbalist sat back and opened the back wall of the cupboard, careful not to let the herbs inside fall from their places, and withdrew two differently colored bottles of liquid before closing and locking the case again. She returned to her workbench, setting the two brews next to each other, and motioned for Fluttershy to approach. “Two options you have in such a case,” she explained as her guest stepped up beside her. “Either tame or wild, a new life you must embrace.” She pointed at the bottle of green liquid. “A drink of this, and pony you’ll be. Changes will be few – and to your tongue mostly.” Zecora picked up the bottle of pink liquid and held it cautiously, showing it clearly to Fluttershy and focusing a serious gaze on her. “This will change a little more, though, from the outside, you’ll look no different than before. A drink of this,” she set, setting the bottle back on the table, “will make you an omnivore.” Fluttershy’s eyes grew wide and she leaned away from the potion. “A...what?” “Animal or vegetable, apple or boar, one can eat anything as an omnivore,” Zecora explained quietly. Fluttershy fixed the bottle with a hard stare. ’If...if I drink that...I won’t get sick anymore?’ Her brow dropped lower, her face contorting with focus. ’But then...I would just eat animals all the time...Wouldn’t I? I want to stop eating meat, not make it so I can eat it all the time!’ She turned her attention to the bottle of green liquid, urging herself to reach for it, but found her muscles wouldn’t obey her. Her focus wavered, her eyes darting to the pink potion and then back, and she urged herself once again to move. Her hoof lifted off the floor, hovering momentarily, then rose between herself and the table. She gave herself a faint nod of approval, ignoring how much the raised hoof shook, and commanded herself to pick up the green bottle a third time. To her surprise, however, her hoof veered off-course, slowly and anxiously reaching toward the pink potion instead. She bit her lip, a thin film of sweat forming at her hairline, and she tried once again to control her foreleg. A soft touch made her jump and squeak. She looked sideways at Zecora, who gently covered her hoof with her own and guided it back to the floor. “This decision must not be made lightly, or in haste,” she said, quiet but firm. “When one is drunk, the other will go to waste. They cancel each other once consumed, so only one can ever be used.” Fluttershy’s muscles tensed and she returned her eyes to the pair of bottles, the full weight of the choice before her finally settling on her shoulders. To take one, to choose one path, would mean that she could never return to the other. She took a long steadying breath as her mind worked through what it would mean to choose one or the other, but Zecora again pulled her attention away from them. “You need not, should not, decide this now,” she emphasized. “Just know that the option exists...young...frau.” Fluttershy’s internal debate was cut short by the odd, unfitting rhyme. Zecora’s meaning had gotten through, though, and she nodded slowly, taking one last glance at the potions before standing. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I...thank you so much.” Zecora nodded, her calm smile returning. “This is the least I can do for a friend such as you.” Fluttershy hopped forward and hugged the zebra, quickly releasing her as she gagged on the unintentionally strong grip. “Oh! I’m sorry!” she apologized. She glanced down at herself. “O-oh...Um...how long will I be like this?” “Beast of Burden,” Zecora started, rubbing her sore throat, “lasts no longer than an hour, but you can deplete the spell quicker with a shower.” Fluttershy cocked an eyebrow. “A shower? Really?” “The potion is meant to boost strength for work. A shower is seen as the end of a long day’s...” Zecora suddenly shut her mouth and frowned. Fluttershy flinched and looked behind herself, guessing that something had caught her attention, but found nothing there. She looked back at her host, mildly concerned at the intense look of concentration that was frozen on her face, then felt herself relax slightly as she realized what had the zebra troubled. She tilted her head, about to speak, but a quickly raised hoof kept her silent. Zecora lowered her gaze to the floor, her lips pursed and brow furrowed, and slowly closed her eyes as she thought. The silence quickly grew awkward and Fluttershy glanced toward the nearest window to gauge the time. After nearly a minute, Zecora let her hoof fall to the floor and let out a defeated sigh. “...work,” she finally spat. Fluttershy glanced around awkwardly, looking for some means by which to excuse herself, then flinched as Zecora dismissively waved a hoof. She shrunk away from the annoyed zebra before turning to the door and opening it, but paused in the doorway. “Um...really,” she said, looking back, “Thank you.” Zecora looked up at her and quietly pushed a smile onto her face and nodded. Fluttershy half-expected her to speak, but took it as a sign of her time to leave when she did not. She returned the nod before silently stepping outside and closing the door.