"HI there," Pinkie said nonchalantly.
Rakdarian, on the other hand screamed, and jumped about six feet into the air. After which he broght his gun up to bear at The Pink Menace's head. "Holy fuck! Where, on earth did you come from!?" He shouted.
"You see when two ponies love each other VERY much, they do a sort of wrestleing and if the seed and soil is fertile out comes a baby pinkie 11 months later." She replied, speaking almost too mast to understand. She was also looking up through the barrel "More importantly, What is that? Some kind of feeding tube? Or maybe it's a water sprayer, is it a mini party cannon?"
Rakdarian looked at The Pink Menace confused, unsure of what to do next. "Uh, okay... well umm." Deciding this pony wasn't a threat he lowered his scattergun.
"Or maybe its a doomstick from aliens sent with you to destroy all of Equestria," She continued.
'She doesn't seem very bright, maybe I can get away with a distraction' Rakdarian thought. "Hey look over there a distraction!" He said. 'This is so not going to work.' Pinkie looked.
"I don't see anything, are you sure there's a distraction over there?" She asked.
'No fucking way. She actually fell for it' " Keep looking, I'm sure you'll see it." Rakdarian warily walked away from The Pink Menace.
He walked towards the edge of town, noticing that a lot of ponies of all different colors were looking at him. It looked like a damn cartoon. the building were thatch roofed, and it all came out to appear like a small english village. So he continued walking, trying to ignore the stares. They unnerved him in a way he couldn't understand. Rakdarian was in no way small. He towered over the ponies by several heads. He was a little broad shouldered, and had he walked confidently as if he owned the place. The ponies sensed an aura around him as something to be feared. Eventually he reached the edge of town, off to the right there was what appeared to be a farm. And behind it, a forest. The forest stretched across the horizon.
Rakdarian didn't want to be near the strangeness that was ponyville and thought that the forest was his best chance to find solitude and number his thoughts, come to grips with what had happened and plan out his next move. So to the forest he went.
He slung his weapon on to his back and began to jog towards the woods. When he reached the edge he was pleased to discover that there was a rough, slightly overgrown path, leading into the twilight. Muttering to himself incomprehensibly he walked in.
Hiking on the trail and not wanting to be followed generally don't mix, so it wasn't long before he strayed. The forest smelled like peat, rot, and something that smelled faintly of iron. The air was humid, but cool, and insects buzzed around him biting and stinging. As he hiked though the veritable jungle he began to feel hungry. Realizing that he didn't have any supplies he began to doubt in the wisdom of hiking into a forest, and not finding out about it first. His survival skills were limited to movies he barely remembered and his time as a boy scout. With all of this in mind he began to berate himself quietly.
Another few hours passed, and the slight twinge of hunger started to gnaw at him and he was very thirsty. As luck would have he had found a long moderately fast-moving stream. He drank from the stream and the water tasted clean and fresh. He sat down and examined himself. There were burrs and thorns covering his pants, and he was still wearing his shoes. Brushing them off he then examined the skin on his arms and face to the best of his abilities, there were a few mosquito bites embedded in his arms and a nasty welt by his wrist but other then that he seemed to be fine.
Rakdarian unslung his shotgun and checked it for damage, pulling out the shells one by one. There were still seven, and the gun looked weathered, covered in scratches, the wooden stock nicked here and there, but otherwise appeared to be clean. He loaded all but one back into his gun, slipping the seventh into his pocket. He then looked at his surroundings, It appeared to be early afternoon, with the sun high in the sky. He leaned back agaisnt a rock and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the forest. It was then that Rakdarian realized that it was quiet. Birds weren't tweeting, crickets weren't chirping, and the insects around him had disappeared. It was if the forest was holding its breath. Rakdarian opened his eyes and looked around. There wasn't anything in the clearing, but the edges were dark. He stood up and quietly chambered a round.
There was a slight pressure change as something behind him suddenly lunged forwards. Sensing the changes and reacting accordingly, something he thanked the post-apocalyptic world for giving him, he leaped to the left and landed in a tight roll. Then he turned around to see the hulking form of a manticore. The coat was a rich black, which shined in the sunlight. The tail which ended in a vicious point, was swelling with liquid. On its back were two massive wings, which were a dark green and covered in fur. The predator turned and roared at Rakdarain, its mouth filled with pointed teeth with fangs on the sides..
"Fuck you," Rakdarain said simply as he lifted the shotgun to his shoulder and aimed at the manticore. The manticore charged at Rakdarian, leaping into the air and diving down at the young man. The shotgun roared, and a slug buried itself into the head of the monstrosity, The beast landed next to Rakdarain with a meaty thud. It's head in multiple fragments as brains dripped down the trees. As the blast echoed through the forest Rakdarian realized that he needed to use as much of this as he could.
Rakdarian peeled the shirt off his body switching to the one in his pack. He walked over to the still warm corpse of the manticore and kneeled down to its mouth. It's fangs were very sharp and rakdarian had to wrap The cloth of the purple shirt around his hand to safely grab onto it. He messily ripped the fang out of the corpse's maw with the sickening sound of ripping flesh. He cut a strip of fabric off the purple shirt and tied a small piece of wood to the tooth, making a crude hit. He now had a makeshift knife. He slipped that into his pocket and began to clear the area of debris, stacking the wood into a pile. After a few minutes of this he picked up a flint rock and set it next to his fire pit. A series of stones made to be a circle. Rakdarian then tore up some more of the fabric and placed it into the pit. after which he gathered some dry leaves and piled it onto the pile of fabric.
Rakdarain grabbed his shotgun and the piese of flint and quickly dragged the black stone across the barrel unleashing a small shower of sparks, he did this a few times until a flame took. With a fire now built he piled wome of the loose wood unto the meager blaze.
Rakdarian sat back and watched the flames take for a moment.