//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: P**7: Porkchop’s Probably Pretty Pointless Purple Pony Princess Problem // by Shark8 //------------------------------// Chapter 3 Ryoga was surprised when the front door burst open and three obviously excited fillies barged in almost chanting ‘Twilight Time!’ again and again — one was a white unicorn filly with bi-colored mane; another was a bright orange pegasus, with a scooter and helmet; and the last one an off-white, the color of butter, and had a red mane. Twilight Sparkle, on the other hoof, was obviously expecting it and greeted them with a warm smile before asking them to calm down and get situated. It was during this that Spike took Ryoga out, to do his piggy business, and for a walk as well — which was merciful, considering the red-maned filly had somehow gotten the idea that he’d be good to give some sort of potion to… and with his luck it’d probably lock him in his cursed form or cause him to fall in love or perhaps make him breathe fire. Walking around the town they eventually made their way to one of the few cafes spread around Ponyville; there was a moment where a waitress tripped and almost drenched Ryoga in hot tea. “You’re lucky Porkchop.” Spike commented, watching the wisps of steam rise from the puddles evan as they sank into the earth. ‘Yeah, lucky.’ Ryoga thought sarcastically, crossing his hooves across his chest. ‘…and, as always, it’s bad.’ — — — — — Returning to the tree-library, Spike and Porkchop were greeted with the sounds of the three fillies finishing up their session of Twilight Time and getting into a discussion of what they could do to gain their cutie marks. Ryoga wondered for a moment what a ‘cutie mark’ was before it dawned on him: the odd little pictures on the rumps of most ponies, that must be a cutie mark. He’d kind of assumed that they were just strange, possibly magical, brandings but hearing these three go on and on about how they wanted to get one made him revise that a bit — obviously there was something significant about it, enough to make it desirable. “Oh, I know!” the red-maned one said, “We could go camping and then…” “Cutie Mark Crusader Wilderness Survivors!” all three yelled joyously… until one of them realized something. “Wait, what would that cutie mark look like?” the white one asked the other two. ‘A compass, a travel-pack, a campfire, a tent, a fish and hook, a hiker, a nesting bird, a pair of binoculars…’ Ryoga mentally supplied eight possibilities instantly off the top of his head, having spent a good deal of his life lost (and a good deal of that in the wilderness) he had a good idea of what he was talking about… but, of course, pigs can’t speak and so nobody got to hear his contribution. Twilight overheard this and was a little bit concerned with letting these three out on their own — then Spike caught her eye and she had a thought, a wonderful terrible thought that would obviously test him to the limits of dragon-kind. “Maybe Spike could go with you.” Twilight suggested, “He could be in charge of the campfire.” It was simple really, Spike, being a fire-breathing dragon was quite familiar with it and would do his best to make sure it didn’t get out of hand, likewise the fire itself would keep away the wild animals unless they were in the Everfree forest (which they wouldn’t be). In short, it was the perfect job for her now pet-owning responsible number one assistant. Spike grinned at the idea, “You really mean it Twi?” “Of course I do,” Twilight replied, “you’re responsible now, right?” “You bet!” Spike smiled back and listened to Twilight setting out the details and conditions of their little camping trip, making sure that they had to get permission from their guardians. ● ● ● ● ● “Ok, do you have everything?” Twilight asked for the third time. “Yes, mom.” Spike said sarcastically, earning a glare from his roommate and adopted-sister. ‘And so do I…’ Ryoga thought, rubbing his hooves together in anticipation. “I have everything you put on the list.” Spike said, as he shouldered the backpack, “Triple checked even.” What the diminutive dragon didn’t discern was that his pet pilfered a pan within, too… waiting, and hoping, for a chance to return to his human form. ‘Porkchop’ had been waiting for the chance to go camping for a few days. He could anticipate being back “in his element” and finally able to get away — though he really didn’t bear any ill-will to Spike or the rest of the ponies here, they were certainly kinder to him than a lot of the other places he’d been captured/’adopted’/kidnaped to, but he should still try to find his way back home. “Good.” Twilight Sparkle said, “I’m counting on you to watch out for the Crusaders.” “Yep. It’s a job for your number-one assistant.” Spike replied with a smile on his face — he was actually very happy to be given the responsibility, as it was a way to prove himself. As Spike and Porkchop left, Twilight pulled out a book with a sigh, On The Magical Musical Meter of ‘Mischief Meets Maud in D Minor’ Minus Multiple Monzonite Minuets by M. Pie and D. Draconequus… she really would have to refrain from taking Discord’s advice on reading material, as the book was, by turns, incredibly uninteresting or indecipherably illogical. — — — — — Apple Bloom finished pulling the last guy-line taught and driving the stake into the ground. She smiled, proud of putting the tent up. “Ok. Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo… we’re ready!” “Yay!” Sweetie Belle cried, as Scootaloo did a trick on her scooter. “We’re going to get our cutie marks for wilderness survival for sure!” “You bet. It’ll be the most awesome thing ever!” Scootaloo agreed. “Hey everypony!” A familiar voice called and, turning towards it, the Crusaders saw… “Spike!” the three cried in unison. “Sorry I’m late.” He apologized, “My backpack is a bit heavier than I expected.” “Oh, it’s ok!” Sweetie Bell assured him. “Yeah, we already got the tent up, see!” Scootaloo indicated the tent. “Hey! I did all the work!” Apple Bloom protested, slightly upset about the others taking credit for the work… though that quickly faded into the excitement of the camping trip. “So, what are we going to do for dinner?” Spike asked, well aware of the eight meals in his backpack… both dinner and breakfast, if their little ‘expedition’ as wilderness-survivors would prove not to yield food so readily. “Fishing!” Apple Bloom replied, somehow knowing that camping and fishing go together like cactuses and the desert… besides her brother, Big McIntosh, loved to fish; he said it was an excellent way to relive stress, be close to nature, relax, and get a tasty snack/meal as well as building patience, persistence, and perception. So the five campers made their way to the stream, four of them dropping lines in while the fourth wandered around inspecting various bushes and trees, occasionally breaking off a branch or two, then dragging them over next to the stream to pile them up. After finishing collecting a fair pile of these branches, Ryoga found a sharp rock and, although difficult and tedious to do with hooves, removed little offshoots and began to sharpen points onto the wooden shafts. It was something he had learned long before his fateful trip to China, and after that curse it had taken him a long time to re-learn how to do it in a pig’s body, but he’d had to do it… ‘Stupid monsoon season!’ Ryoga thought as he remembered how he’d been forced to learn. Upon finishing the spear-like wooden shafts came the hard part. He lacked the precision to use them in spear-fishing, but he could drive them into the streambed to make a fishweir. — Grabbing one as best as he could he jumped and thrust downward as hard as he could, driving the spear as well as the mass of his small body could impart. Then expertly landing on the end of the spear’s shaft, driving it further in. Jumping back to the bank, he repeated the process until a line of spears bridged the stream from bank to bank; then he began the second part of the weir: the funnel. When he was finished the completed thing viewed from above was reminiscent of a K, but with a break between the base and the legs thereof. — Now all he had to do was wait… and while he did that, he could fish out the pot he’d stashed in Spike’s backpack, fill it, and start a fire. So far everything was going smoothly and Ryoga was torn between hope and not letting himself hope; no sense in counting his pots of hot water until he had a pot of hot water. “Ya, know…” Apple Bloom said, shaking her head then turning to Spike, “Your pig is really funny.” — — — — — The clouds were gathered together, packed together and darkly crowding the skies; it was good work by the local weather team. The pegasi had done an excellent job, and the storm scheduled for late afternoon through the night would be excellent: heavy rain, lightning, thunder, even a chance of some light hail. Lyra glanced up, scanning the skies trying to gauge when the storm was scheduled to break… she’d forgotten the exact time it was scheduled for. She didn’t want to get caught out in the rain with her lyre, even though she was planning to go out for a walk in the thunderstorm for some inspiration for the music she was working on, it wouldn’t do to let the instrument get wet. Scrambling to finish up her session and get Dave (her name for the instrument) home, she glanced up again just to see lightning jump from cloud to cloud. ‘Yes, I should hurry.’ She thought, using her magic to scoop up the few bits she’d earned from the odd passerby who’d listened to her music as she’d played in the park during the afternoon. Just a few seconds from her front door she felt the first drops splatter on her face, and an instant later she was home and Dave out of the elements. Relaxing, Lyra put the lyre away and retrieved her raincoat and ventured out into the storm… Only to be disappointed, the first raindrops she’d felt must have been a tease, maybe somepony watering their plants, or “premature precipitation”. Rounding the back of the old police station she came out of the city proper and into a nice clearing between the town and nearby stream. Some movement in the distance caught her eye… and held it. — There was a strange creature standing upright, bushy hair held in place by what appeared to be a yellow-and-black piece of cloth (it was either cloth or the strangest set of markings she’d seen, as they didn’t match anything else). It appeared to be wearing a pan as an off-kilter hat, too… which was odd considering the bandanna. Lightning flashed and the rain broke. When her eyes readjusted the strange creature was gone. ‘What was that thing?’ She wondered, wandering to where she thought she’d seen the creature. There was nothing there except for a camp-fire, on the far side of the clearing there was a tent, had they seen the creature?