Ever since the manticore had appeared, Apple Bloom seemed to have completely broken down. Anything she’d said since had been rendered intelligible through her sobs, though Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were still able to make out the word “Grandpa,” being used occasionally. Sweetie Belle had just started running like the hounds of Tartarus were on her tail and hasn’t stopped since.
‘Stupid, stupid,’ Scootaloo thinks to herself despondently ‘why didn’t I just listen to them?’
Their eyes burning terribly as they ran through the forest, the Crusader's hearts and minds united in the wish to be back in their beds, safe and sound. Unfortunately, this was no dream, and the monster even now seeking to devour them was all too real.
Suddenly, the beast leapt forward with a rumbling growl. The heat and fetid stench of the manticore’s breath making Scootaloo’s neck fur stand on end even as she screams her lungs out.
Even more terrified from the sound of their friend’s screams, not to mention the recent near miss, the Cutie Mark Crusaders break into a run at full gallop and manage to pull away from the much larger beast chasing after them. The dirt and dust kicked up from their pounding hooves caking onto their sweaty coats, their breathe on the edge of hyperventilation as they search for any possible shelter, anything to get away from the monster coming to kill and eat them.
“There, the rocks!” shouts Scootaloo, relief flooding her panting voice as they ran into a clearing. Scootaloo’s wings buzzed pleasantly, her Pegasus instincts were screaming at her to get to higher ground- and hopefully, to safety. A plan finally appearing, the Crusaders move in synch to reach the rocky outcropping with a palpable air of tired relief.
They climb their way to the top; the skills learned during their brief stint as Cutie Mark Crusader Rock Climbers finally coming in handy. Finally, the tired Crusaders reach the plateau and fall together panting, feeling relatively safe for the first time in what felt like hours. Immediately after getting her breath back Apple Bloom latches onto Sweetie Belle; taking great, shuddering breaths and sobbing out apologies while the unicorn filly gently comforts her distraught friend. In spite, or perhaps because of her normal reaction to such an outpouring of emotions, Scootaloo glomps her best friends in the whole world, trying and failing miserably to hide her sniffling.
The mood shatters like a cheap porcelain vase during a spontaneous indoor hoofball match as a growl emerges from the nearby wood. Abandoning any further attempts at subtlety, the manticore slowly stalks it’s way into the clearing, it’s nightmarish visage and terrifying presence causes the fillies to squeeze themselves together even tighter as a shudder of fear runs through all of them.
“I don’t wanna die,” whispers Apple Bloom, her unusually fragile tone and soft, morbid declaration causing the three fillies to tear up.
‘It’s not fair!’ thinks Scootaloo, anger and helplessness burning in her gut as she tries to staunch her tears “Please, somepony... anypony, please save us!”
As if in answer to her silent plea for salvation, an orange blur launches itself at the beast from behind, and in a flash of steel, removes one of the monster’s wings. The Crusader’s flinch when they hear the beast roar, the furious sound shaking the rock beneath their hooves and seeming to resonate in their very bones.
Sweetie Belle gasps when she recognizes Mister Lero as the one who attacked the manticore. Standing tall on his two legs, his hazel eyes staring down the monster fearlessly, weapon held high like a fairytale knight charging in to save her prince from the villain’s nefarious clutches. “Oh no!” she squeaks, seeing the manticore barrel down on Lero, but he quickly dodges out of the way; rolling to safety while the monster runs itself straight into a nearby tree with a horrible crash.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders cry out to Lero as they see the manticore regain it’s bearings and ready a pounce. They then proceed to gape in awe as he turns the weapon around, thrusting his spear straight into it’s mouth before it can land on him and slaying the beast. Tears of relief streak down their faces as they hoot and holler, cheering loudly for the hero that saved them from the monster in their time of need. It was a scene out of a storybook, an epic tale brought to life before their eyes, and none of them were unaffected.
The Crusaders break their embrace and scramble to meet their saviour, tumbling a bit to get down from their lofty elevation. Then, as the Crusaders run to greet Lero the tail of the supposedly dead manticore strikes out suddenly and stabs him in the stomach.
“LERO!” cries Apple Bloom at the top of her lungs, the other Crusaders voicing their worry shortly afterwards.
Panic sets in as Lero seems to collapse in on himself. “Get. Offa. HIM!” Apple Bloom shouts at the manticore’s corpse, attempting to push it off of Lero with her hooves. Sensing their mutual friend’s distress, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo set about gently getting Lero out from underneath the body of the slain beast, managing to pull him away just as Apple Bloom manages to shove it to the side with a strained grunt; the body making a loud “whump!” as it finally hits the dirt.
Sweetie Belle whimpers softly as she takes in Lero’s prostrate form, his clothes practically reduced to tatters, red lines and scratches litter his form, and his stomach wound is bleeding badly.
“Is he gonna be okay?” asks Scootaloo, voice soft and tone worried.
“He has to be okay!” snaps Apple Bloom, expression fierce despite the tears shining in her bright orange eyes “Come on Sweetie. Tell me that he’s gonna be okay… please.”
Sensing the shift in group dynamic, as well as her Earth Pony friend’s delicate emotional state, Sweetie Belle swallows her nervousness and firms her voice. “Apple Bloom, do you know if we’re anywhere near Zecora’s hut?”
Apple Bloom blinks at that, having not expected the question and examines the surroundings with fresh eyes. “Yeah… it’s not all that far from here actually.”
“Then I need you to go and get her to come here right now; tell her that Mister Lero’s been stung by a manticore and that he needs help right away,” Sweetie Belle commands simply, directing her friend to where she could do the most good.
Apple Bloom nods her head vigorously before sprinting off into the forest, ostensibly in the direction of Zecora’s hut. “What about the hospital?” asks Scootaloo, watching Apple Bloom leave with concern.
“It’s too far,” Sweetie Belle states simply “and besides, Nurse Redheart says that you’re not supposed to move around a lot when you get hurt, we might end up making things worse.”
“How could you make something like that worse?” questions Scootaloo, sounding rather disgusted at the prospect.
“I don’t know, but I’m not finding out any time soon,” answers Sweetie Belle. Extending her neck and gently placing her hoof on Lero’s shoulder, Sweetie Belle bites down on the remains of his shirt and slowly sets about removing it from him.
“What the Tartarus are you doing?!” demands Scootaloo, thoroughly freaked out by her friend’s actions.
Sweetie Belle stops briefly after ripping a large strip of cloth free from the damaged shirt and spits to get rid of the flavour “Ugh… I’m trying to make a tour-ni-quet, to stop the bleeding.”
Scootaloo just watches incredulously as her friend gets back to work, seeing her grimace at the taste of the dirtied cloth. “Where’d you even learn to do this anyway?” she asks, genuinely curious as to the source of her friend’s obscure knowledge.
Sweetie Belle just stays silent, focusing on her work. What was she supposed to say? That she pretty much had to learn about this kind of thing because she was so much weaker than them? That because her best friends were an Earth Pony and a Pegasus with so much Earth Pony in her lineage that she was practically one herself- that she was the weak link? Was she supposed to tell Scootaloo about all the times she had to go to the hospital, or about the times her sister lectured her about knowing her limits, or maybe even about all the times she got injured while Apple Bloom and Scootaloo just shrugged it off? No, she can’t she decides, Scootaloo and Applebloom were the best thing to ever happen to her. To stay with them she’d endure a thousand injuries, all with a smile on her face.
Scootaloo looks at her friend worriedly, Sweetie Belle’s whole face had just twisted into a frown, and Scootaloo had a sneaking suspicion that the expression had little to do with nasty tasting cloth.
“Come on, help me out here Scoots, I have to get this wrap around him,” says Sweetie Belle as she grabs one of her makeshift bandages. Scootaloo just watches her friend quietly as she wraps Lero’s midsection with surprising skill, musing about her friend’s hidden depths.
“Okay now, prop up your hooves and set them down here, like this, watch me, now push- gently!” Sweetie Belle quickly corrects her over enthusiastic pegasus friend, urging her to be more careful “If we apply pressure like this it’ll help stop the bleeding.”
The two Crusaders watch Lero worriedly, but after holding their breath for what feels like a brief eternity the bleeding slows to a trickle. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sweetie Belle places one of her white, fluffy ears against his chest and listens to Lero breath “He sounds good, steady; his heartbeat’s pretty fast, I don’t really know what that means, but it doesn’t seem too dangerous.”
Sweetie Belle bites her lip, worrying it softly with her teeth. She knew that her ‘treatment’ was amateur at best and that her diagnosis was little more than a barely educated guess. Still, Lero did look better, if just a teensy bit; she just had to have faith that her friend would get back with Zecora quickly.
The world appears to blur around Apple Bloom as she desperately gallops in the general direction of Zecora’s hut. The morbid image of Lero’s stomach wound trapped within her mind’s eye. Over the months since Lero had come to live with the Apple family, he’d done everything in his power to repay the kindness of their hospitality. Though they’d all thought him a bit funny at first, he’d eventually become family to Apple Bloom and her kin, neatly sliding into a place in their hearts that she’d never even noticed was there to begin with.
Apple Bloom loves her family, and even if they don’t always agree, she wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. But still, sometimes she felt like they just didn’t understand her, or her need to find her own path. Sometimes she felt like Big Macintosh might understand, if only a little bit, but the big galoot was just too dang shy for his own good. But Lero… Lero talked to her like she was a full-grown mare. He was warm, and wise; comforting, and supportive. When she tried to think of what it was like before Lero was around, or what it might be like if he wasn’t there, it hurt. She could scarcely imagine how lonely that would be.
The idea that he could die one day never even crossed her mind; the very idea of losing him made her eyes burn and her body feel short of breath. Still, Apple Bloom trusted her friends and she knew Zecora, if anybody could help Lero now she’d be the mare to do it. Even though she knew all of that in her mind, it didn’t stop a sliver of worry from gnawing at the back of her thoughts, nor does it stop her from muttering a brief prayer to Celestia under her breath as she rushes into the familiar grove.
“Please let him be okay,” Apple Bloom whispers as she canters up to the inhabited tree and knocks on the carved wooden door. A series of clops sound from behind the homely barricade as somepony answers the door.
“Is that you I see Apple Bloom,
what are you doing out in the gloom?” rhymes Zecora, her rich, deeply accented voice already serving to soothe Apple Bloom’s fears.
“The girls and I were out crusadin’, an’ Sweetie Belle told us we shoulda left, but I didn’t listen ta her; oh why didn’t I listen ta her,” the filly babbles, guilt hanging like a leaden weight in her stomach “and there was this manticore, but Lero- he was amazin’, he saved us! But he got hurt real bad, the manticore stung him and I dunno what ta do...”
Zecora listens patiently as the filly pours her heart out, feeling a mixture of sadness and concern for the child who had always sought to be a friend to her. Her heart sinks as the tale draws to a close, for one so young to go through such a traumatic experience…
“If we are to save your friend then we must be swift,
if he is to recover then we must reach him before the night shift,” with an easy grace that spoke of long experience Zecora stepped back into her hut, gathering anything that might be able to aid Apple Bloom’s friend. She didn’t want to tell the filly, but she honestly didn’t expect him to make it. She knew from personal experience the terrible potency of a manticore’s venom. Still, she’d take even a small chance to protect the innocent filly from the loss of a loved one.
Zecora’s response does little to quiet her sense of urgency, they had to get moving now! “Is there anything I can do ta-”
“You may take my words with a grain of salt,
but nothing that happened today was your fault,” Zecora interjects, understanding her desire to help, but unable to comply with it. Apple Bloom may have been a bright young filly, but an alchemist she was not, not to mention some of the reagents she was handling were exceptionally volatile in the wrong hooves. Packing her saddle bags, Zecora turns to the distraught filly with what she hopes is a comforting smile.
“Over the corner, and around the bend
let us be off to save your friend!~” she says lyrically, pouring on the enthusiasm to help reassure her young friend. Taking the cue, Apple Bloom rushes off in the direction of her injured friend.
“It’s just over this way!” she shouts, Zecora keeping step just behind her.
Ignoring her fatigue with a combination of long practice and sheer stubbornness, Apple Bloom canters hard through the dark forest. Sweat pours off of her coat like rainwater, and her breath came in fits and starts. By now, even her reserve of world-renowned Earth Pony endurance had worn dry. She was, quite literally at this point, running on fumes.
Zecora glances concernedly at her companion, she knew that Apple Bloom was pushing herself, but at the same time she couldn’t really tell the filly to stop. Even if Apple Bloom did listen to her, and that’s a pretty big if; she couldn’t really carry the filly, weighed down with delicate reagents as she was, and she still needed Apple Bloom’s directions if she was to have any hope of reaching her Human friend in time.
Just as she was about to suggest that maybe they should slow down, just a tad, Apple Bloom stops her. “We’re here!” she cries, the sheer relief in her voice easily discernable to Zecora and the ragged fillies awaiting their arrival. While she slows down slightly upon seeing her friends, Apple Bloom refuses to stop completely before she collapses at Lero’s side, panting heavily.
Zecora gapes momentarily when she sees the dead manticore, when her young friend had told her about what had happened she had assumed that the Human had merely driven off the manticore, but to actually kill one… she shakes her head to clear her thoughts, she had more important things to do than gawp at the spectacle.
With great care, Zecora unpacks her things and moves her way over to the wounded Human. He was in bad shape, that much she had expected, what she hadn’t really expected was for his wounds to actually be dressed and the bleeding staunched. She looks the fillies over, taking in the tired looking Unicorn with red smears on her face and hooves. While the attempt may have been crude, it just may have saved this stallion’s life.
“You fillies have done well in taking care of your friend,
there’s only so much I can do if there is nothing to tend,” she rhymes, praising the young Crusader’s work; Sweetie Belle beams up at her tiredly, a tinge of pride coloring her soft, childish features.
Zecora skillfully removes the improvised bandages before gingerly applying a foul-smelling yellow goop to the gaping wound. There’s a quiet hiss as the stuff touches bare flesh, causing the nearby Crusaders to flinch. She then takes out a much more pleasant looking pearlescent cream and begins applying it to the smaller wounds. Taking care to first remove his pants and then tend to his injured back, she applies the cream to one side of a tan cloth and gently wraps Lero’s torso, paying extra attention to the stomach. Afterwards Zecora opens his mouth and pours liquid from a small vial past his lips, she then proceeds to rub his throat until he swallows.
The Crusader’s watch the Zebrican alchemist work enraptured. While they had seen her mix the occasional potion, and even cure a few embarrassing illnesses, they’d never seen their friend quite like this before. To be able to do something so quickly and with such confidence... to them, it was the very definition of what it was to have a special talent.
Suddenly Lero moves, shocking the nearby equines. He takes a deep breath before letting it out again with a quiet rasp, apparently still unconscious. Zecora, in an unintentional imitation of Sweetie Belle’s earlier actions, presses a striped ear to his chest. “He is doing better than I may have feared,
but the danger has not yet been cleared.”
She continues “I would by no means consider myself a cynic,
but we must get your friend to a clinic,” the Crusaders nod in unison, resisting the urge to curl up and fall asleep after the day’s manic events.
Zecora digs a small hole in the dirt and places a few of the items she brought with her inside it before marking the ground; she tosses something that looks a little like salt over the manticore’s body, and the rest she simply places back in her saddlebags. She then directs the Crusaders to ease Lero onto her back, and with much grunting and sighing, they slowly make their way back to civilization.