Painted Mirror

by Lord of Turtles

Have to Do

The next day's walk to the Everfree was a long and lonely one.

The Apple family had afforded Raj a few more hours of sleep, he assumed at Applejack's urging. When he finally got out of bed he found the place abandoned, ponies off to their various chores for the day and an illegible note set on the table next to a plate of eggs and steamed broccoli that had gone entirely cold. He silently groused about the lack of meat and ate quickly, leaving westward.

Losing daylight meant less time in the field, especially with the steady rain that had blown in overnight. He knew he'd have to hurry to make any progress at all.

Rain didn't truly fall in the Everfree, not where the canopy hung, it was too dense. Instead it collected on the leaves and branches, filtering through the roof of greenery to fall in fat drips and running rivulets as forceful as a hose. Other times it simply drifted in as a chilly mist, condensing on everything and sapping warmth.

The forest was an entirely different place in the rain, he found. Plants hung differently, weighed down by water. Flowers closed themselves up to hide from over-saturation as the forest denizens did the same, scurrying into burrows and dens to wait out the weather. Even the ever present buzz of lively insects was replaced with the mindless drone of dripping and flowing water.

This was a problem for Raj. He craved stimulus, needed to notice things in his surroundings to occupy his thoughts. Without that distraction, he was left to think.

Raj stomped his was through muddy puddles and fallen branches, through black brambles and slick stones.

Twice he fell flat on his face, slipping on a loose stone or misplacing his footing beneath a deeper pool. Both times he cursed bitterly and ungainly rose to his feet, wiping off the worst of the muck that clung to his torso.

He staggered onward, coughing heavily, and desperately tried to ignore the thin lines of crimson running off of his stained hand.

Raj ran his hand along a large oak tree, slick with moisture. A long, thin line was slashed into the face of it, bright white against gray bark.

It was one of his markers, a sign he make during his search. It was meant to show an area that he'd already combed over. The slash also informed the direction he was going when he made it, a sort of code he'd modified from an old military method.

The sign in front of him showed he was on the right track, picking his way closer to the dry river he and Applejack rested in the day before. He yanked his knife and slashed it again, deepening the gash all the way down to the wood.

A short bit of walking later and Raj came upon the riverbed from the previous day, now transformed into a pit of stinking mud. He looked down at the filth and grimaced. The stuff was thick and deep, sluggishly churning as it tried to flow downstream. It would likely to cost him a boot or worse if he tried to stomp through it. It was too far to risk a jump, especially since he'd have to do it again to get back.

Not for the first time, he considered heading back to the farmhouse. The weather was all kinds of crap and showed no signs of getting better. The clouds were cutting the light down as well, with the normally thick foliage overhead the entire Everfree was downright gloomy. He was likely to just walk past what he was looking for without even noticing it.

Raj glanced back over his shoulder at his own tracks, deep and already filled with dark water. It'd be an easy thing to follow them back. With just a few hours he could be back in the Apple's kitchen, warm and comfortable. He could help Granny with her jarring, or hear about Applebloom's day at school.

It was one day. How much could one day hurt?

He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. Too much, far too much. It was a slope as slippery as the bank he stood on.

He found a birch tree a short ways up the bank that sat on a berm over the mucky river. Planting his feet, he pushed against it with everything he had, boots furrowing the soft soil as he pushed. With a vile sucking sound the tree's roots tore up from the muddy soil and the whole thing crashed down, forming a bridge from shore to shore.

Raj leaned onto his knees, breathing heavy from the exertion. He coughed into a fist a few times and straightened up, muttering. “Nothing to it, nothing to it.” He groaned and spat on the ground.

After embarrassingly butt-scooting his way across the makeshift bridge he'd finally managed to reach the finish glyph he'd carved the previous day. He yanked his knife free and cut across it, officially marking the start of the day's search.

The canopy was thicker on this side, only finding rare gaps to trickle through the green shield. Most of the water ran down leaves and branches towards the trunks, streaming down their bark and saturating their roots. Raj wondered if it was some evolutionary trick the trees of the Everfree had developed over the years to covet nutrition, or if trees did it back home and he never noticed.

He followed his tracks, as obscured as they were, until he reached his first distance marker and then ranged out, starting his grid search pattern again. He tightened the gaps, knowing that his visibility was cut down heavily. Every hundred paces he would slash a tree across its face, leaving a search marker.

It was an easy and efficient method that left nothing to chance. But it's slow, so terribly, terribly slow.

Rajrishi sunk down onto a trunk, feeling drained. Wetness seeped through is pants but he couldn't muster the concern for that. Rest, rest was all he needed.

A wet cough ripped up from his lungs, red-tinged phlegm splattering his hand. He looked at it and wheezed, no longer able to ignore its presence. He wiped it off on the log and lumbered to his feet, leaning heavily on his staff.

Unknown to him, a pair of burning lantern eyes watched from the dark places of the Everfree.

Raj walked along the soupy river, counting his paces and slashing a line every once in a while. Once he hit ten marks he'd turn ninety degrees and move into the forest a hundred paces, turn again, and then repeat it the opposite direction until he hit ten marks again.

That was the plan at least, until he picked up a rotten, fetid stink drifting towards him. After a second of confusion he recognized it and immediately tensed up, his grip on his staff shifting.

Timberwolf breath, way too close.

He eyed the brush line, scanning for the burning emerald eyes of wooden predators. After a few moments of tense probing he heard a chattering growl rise from a thick patch of briars and one of the creatures slunk out of the overgrowth.

It was a big one, larger than the others by half, and bristled with sinewy ropes of willow vines under planks of oaken armor. Every Timberwolf he'd seen before looked like a slapdash amalgam of wood, but this one looked sculpted, formed even.

It stalked by him, presenting a side and kept its narrow eyes directly on his. It let out another rumbling growl that reminded Raj uncomfortably of a running wood-chipper. It kept its distance, appraising.

As they watched one another, more appeared, looking diminutive by comparison but still dangerous. They looked at him hungrily and ran leafy tongues over splintered jaws.

Raj rose up tall, trying to appear bigger and roared as loud as he could, trying to appear intimidating. The smaller wolves stopped in their tracks and shied away, surprised at the lack of fear their prey was displaying. Some of the smaller ones looked to their leader, heads and tails low. The big wolf was quiet, unsure.

He smiled inwardly, proud that his ploy was working and worked up another shout. He felt something catch in his lung and he descended into a fit of wracking coughs that threatened to take him to his knees.

The big wolf smiled slightly and let out a staccato bark that was eerily reminiscent of laughter. He tilted his head forward and yipped, signaling the other dogs. They pushed forward as one in an overwhelming surge.