//------------------------------// // Chapter 8a: Terrible War // Story: How to be Cruel // by Erisn //------------------------------// A squad of changelings darted through the forest. These weren’t your average changelings. For one thing, they were bigger, more imposing changelings that were closer in size to stallions than ponies. They were also scarred, their carapaces etched with their past battles. They moved with confidence and what even might have been called grace through the trees, always alert. They were the elite of Chrysalis’s army, and they were her most deadly warriors and scouts. If they ran across any other ponies, they would dispose of them in an instant and steal their shapes before continuing onwards. They were the advance guard, the shock troopers and the first part of a strike force that would destroy Ponyville. They were also being watched. The changelings entered a clearing and stopped. Their experience told them that clearings in the forest were most often chosen as traps. It was unlikely that any ponies were lying in wait given that no one living knew of the changeling’s presence in the forest, but there was still the matter of the three changeling scouts that had gone missing a few days ago. Whatever had eaten them might still be around. The changelings spread out as they moved through the clearing. They were on guard, ready for a surprise attack. None came. The changelings relaxed as they reached the end of the clearing. Nothing to worry about after all. It was just the darkness of the Everfree Forest that made it seem as if there was something lurking around every corner. Still, they were almost impossible to see in the cover of the trees. Ponies would never see them coming, let alone have the time to lay a trap. The lead changeling reached the trees on the other side of the clearing. He hesitated, and held up one hoof. Instantly, the other changeling warriors paused and crouched, immediately alert. The lead changeling peered closer into the shadows between the trees. He looked closer and squinted hard, unsure. He took once cautious step forward— A huge paw reached out from between the trees and grabbed the changeling by the head and pulled him into the forest. The changeling had only time enough to scream before there was a terrible crunching sound and silence. Birds chirped overhead as the changeling warriors looked at each other in shock. As one, they retreated back into the clearing and formed a circle, watching the forest for any signs of movement. There was nothing moving around the clearing. No sounds either, except the persistent chatter of birds. The changelings waited, muscles tensed for the slightest hint of an attack. Nothing happened. The birds sang away, from overhead as the changelings waited. The silence was getting to the changelings, and the annoying tweeting of birds wasn’t helping them. At last, one of the changelings looked up in irritation as the birds continued to whistle and chirp. He raised his face upwards, and had time only to scream before the falling rock turned his head into an explosion of green paste. The changelings looked up. Far, far overhead was what looked like a cloud of small black shapes. No one looking up would have noticed it or cared. The changelings would have paid it no mind save for once crucial detail: the black specks were actually birds. And they were dropping rocks. Rocks the size of a pony’s hoof fell from the sky and thudded into the clearing with enough force to send geysers of dirt soaring into the air. The changelings scattered as they tried to protect their heads with their hooves. It might have seemed odd for a group of elite changeling warriors to flee a few birds dropping rocks, but it was only odd if you didn’t consider the physics. Force is mass times acceleration. Acceleration is a product of velocity over time. And velocity is affected by gravity. Even a very small stone falling at speed from hundreds of feet in the air can hit the ground hard enough to shatter. However, wind resistance can slow down even large objects so that they never reach high speeds, thus mitigating the effects of altitude. That’s why all the stones dropped by the birds were carved into points for maximum aerodynamic speed. Pointed missiles thudded into the ground around the changelings, causing them to scatter. It wasn’t that the birds were good shots – they didn’t need to be. Being hit by just one of those rocks coming at over a hundred miles per hour was enough to piece the changeling’s armor, and since the rocks were falling from overhead, what they mostly hit were the changeling’s heads. Another changeling collapsed with a narrow shard of stone sticking out of his head as the leader of the changelings ordered an advance into the trees. That at least would make it harder for the birds to hit the changelings. The warriors rushed as one into the inviting protection of the forest. Too late, the changelings remembered why they should have stayed out in the first place. Another paw the size of a changeling’s head reached out from behind a tree and grabbed another changeling. By it’s head. The paw then withdrew back behind the tree with the changeling, and there was a horrendous ripping noise and a few squelches before the paw reappeared. This time, it came with the rest of the body, and the changelings found themselves looking up, up, up into the eyes of a very tall, very angry bear. His muzzle was dripping green with changeling blood, which hissed and sizzled as it hit the forest floor, but that only seemed to be making the bear angrier. The changelings turned to beat the most strategic retreat in history but they found their path blocked. By animals. This would not normally be the most intimidating of sentences, and indeed ranks low on the scary side for any group of warriors encountering a hitherto unseen foe. However, the devil is in the details, and the corpse doesn’t swing without the gibbet after all. What made the changelings stop was an additional detail that was quite noticeable of the group before them. They were animals. With weapons. Squirrels are not scary, unless they’re rabid or attacking in droves. Even tyrannical overlords of certain nations have been toppled by mass-squirrel attacks, but it is generally agreed that they are not intimidating even when they’re trying to bite your eyes out. However, give a squirrel a knife and suddenly they’re not so fluffy. What for a pony is a small knife turns into a broadsword in the hands of a squirrel, or perhaps a battering ram with a pointy end if it’s a big knife. But then, these were big squirrels, and while they lacked the muscle mass of larger animals, they had a lot of fine weapons and there were a lot of them. If the changelings tried to go through the squirrels, the squirrels would go through them in short order and only bits and pieces would come out the other side. The changelings hesitated, and turned back to look at the bear. True, it was a solitary bear and true, these changeling warriors had killed bears before. However, that had always been sneak attacks conducted with overwhelming numbers and moreover, none of the changelings remembered ever seeing a bear this big. Or angry. The changelings turned back to the animal army. That wasn’t any more appealing of a choice either. The squirrels were only the advance guard in the army. There were bigger animals too. Beavers were big, could carry much larger weapons, and had teeth that could bite through logs. They were armed with hammers and while a hammer doesn’t seem as scary as a knife, it’s worth remembering that a hammer can force a nail through a piece of wood quite, quite easily. The changelings hesitated, and that was their last mistake. They might have fought though the bear, or overwhelmed the animals through luck and daring, but they were not prepared for a tree to fall onto them. It struck the ground with an almighty crash, crushing five changeling warriors under its broad surface. The shocked changelings had only a moment to towards the base of the tree before a small, white rabbit bounded into view. He was carrying a knife which he held aloft, and he was followed by a pair of beavers, a white cat, a dog, and what looked like a miniature crocodile. The rabbit waved his knife and screamed a command unmistakable even across languages. As one, the animals charged. The changelings had only one moment to give thanks that at least Chrysalis wouldn’t be able to take them to task for losing to a bunch of animals before they were covered in a mass of writhing, biting, stabbing bodies. ---- “Want another slice of cake Fluttershy?” Pinkie Pie asked, bouncing around her pegasus friend. “No thank you Pinkie Pie,” Fluttershy said politely and covered her plate in case her friend decided that ‘no’ meant ‘yes’. “I think five slices is enough for me today. Thank you for offering again, though.” “No problem!” Pinkie Pie zipped away to the desserts table before reappearing with a cherry pie. She flipped it into the air and ate it in a single gulp, defying natural law and her daily nutritional intake in one go. “Just tell me if you want anything more to eat, okay? It’s a special day after all!” “Ah’m not sure that this is such a special day Pinkie,” Applejack commented over her sixth slice of cake. “It don’t seem to me that this day is too special.” Pinkie Pie halted mid-bounce. “What do you mean, Applejack? Today’s really special! Otherwise, why would we be having a party?” Applejack scratched her face with one hoof. “Yeah, but this is a Tuesday Party, Pinkie.” “And?” “We have this here party every Tuesday. Well, at least every Tuesday we’re not busy.” “Exactly!” Pinkie Pie leapt back into the air. “Tuesday’s such a special day that we have to celebrate it!” “Yeah, but what about tomorrow’s Wednesday Party?” “Equally important! I’m looking forwards to it just as much as I am to Thursday Party!” “Yeah, that too. And of course, there’s Friday Party…” “Don’t know what I’d do without it!” “Saturday Party…” “Indispensable!” “And Sunday Party and now that ah come to think of it, we already had Monday Party and—” “I think what Applejack’s trying to say,” Twilight interrupted, gently edging her way into the conversation with a cup of fruit punch hovering next to her, “is that maybe some days aren’t as special as, you know, holidays. Like Nightmare Night, for example.” Pinkie Pie’s face twisted with the effort of mental calculation for a few seconds. “I suppose so,” she conceded grudgingly, “but I like to celebrate every day!” “Y’know, I sorta noticed that.” Rainbow Dash came to hover over the other partygoers, a party horn in one hoof. “Not that I mind free cake, but it’s sort of weird to have a party with only six ponies.” “Yes, I was wondering about that.” Twilight glanced around Sugarcube corner, which was indeed rather vacant. “Normally we’d have more ponies here, or at least some of our pets. Where’s Gummy? He’s always with you, Pinkie Pie.” “Oh, he’s off with some other animals,” Pinkie Pie said casually. “Something about an ambush later today. I wasn’t really paying attention.” Twilight frowned and opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by Fluttershy tripping into her, sending both ponies crashing to the ground. The cup of fruit punch Twilight had been holding aloft magically tumbled down in the sweetest of arcs, about to splash both ponies. It did not, because someone else caught the cup as it was about to tip over. A blue glow surrounded the cup as Rarity set it gently down on a side table. “Good catch Rarity,” Twilight said, getting to her feet. “Are you okay, Fluttershy?” “Oh yes, I’m so terribly sorry about that.” Fluttershy accepted Applejack’s hoof and got up slowly. “I must have tripped on a loose floorboard. What were we talking about again?” “Oh, we were talking about how Gummy was off doing secret things with the other animals!” Pinkie Pie supplied cheerfully. Twilight thought she saw Fluttershy’s left eye twitch for a second, but Rarity cut into the conversation. “Honestly, that isn’t what we should be discussing right now Pinkie Pie. I’m more worried about this mysterious burglar who’s been terrorizing Ponyville lately.” Twilight thought she heard Fluttershy give a tiny sigh of what sounded like relief. “Oh yeah, that!” Rainbow Dash swooped lower and grabbed a cupcake and donut off the desserts table. “I heard about that just yesterday. Wasn’t there an article in the Ponyville Express?” “Yup,” Twilight said, tearing her attention away from Fluttershy for a second to fish in her saddlebag. “I have it right here.” She spread out the newspaper and held it for the others to see. Emblazoned on the front page as the caption: Mystery Thief Strikes Again! Kitchens across Ponyville raided by unknown criminal! “Ugh, how repulsive,” Rarity exclaimed. “Imagine somepony doing something like that? And in Ponyville of all places! I can’t believe my neighbors would ever contemplate such a thing.” “Ah thought it was weird how it was only kitchens that were bein’ burglarized,” Applejack commented. “Ah don’t think there’s many valuable things in a kitchen. But we’re missin’ some tools from the barn up in Sweet Apple Acres, so maybe the thief stole that too.” “It sounds perfectly dreadful,” Fluttershy agreed. “It’s just too bad that there’s no evidence or suspects.” “Yeah!” Pinkie Pie snatched the paper out of Twilight’s hooves and wore it over her head like a cloak. “The thief just comes in the night and disappears. Even when ponies are on the lookout, they can’t find a trace of the thief. No hoofprints anywhere. It’s almost like whoever done it isn’t a pony at all!” “Y’know, that’s not a bad thought Pinkie,” Twilight commented. “It’s hard to imagine any pony stealing a bunch of knives and some hammers when it’s easy enough to buy them. Maybe it is someone besides a pony who’s doing it.” “Yeah, like Tank!” Rainbow Dash sniggered. “I found him carrying my kitchen knife earlier today. I think he was trying to hide it in case the burglar broke into my house. I don’t think he understands that I live in the sky.” “Oh, I’m sure that Tank was just being cautious,” Fluttershy broke in quickly. “You know how he is. But maybe the mystery thief is a pegasus after all, Rainbow Dash. That would explain why nopony’s seen his or her hoofmarks so far.” Rainbow Dash scratched her head thoughtfully. “A pegasus, huh? That could be it. I’ll keep an eye on the skies at night and see if I find any clues.” “That sounds very wise,” Fluttershy said with a smile. “But you know, I don’t think we’ll find the thief so easily. They could be miles away by now, and it could be anyone. Even, say, a diamond dog.” Rarity shuddered at the suggestion. “I do hope not. They’re brutish and uncivilized enough as it is without adding in thievery to their failings.” “Yes, well, it’s only one possibility.” Fluttershy gave the others a big smile. “Besides, I think that now Ponyville’s on the alert for this thief the stealing should stop. He—or she probably has what they came for by now.” ---- Two hours later, Fluttershy left Sugarcube corner weighed down by a full stomach and a ‘cake for the road’ Pinkie Pie had insisted on giving her. She made her farewells to her friends and set off back to her cottage at a slow, casual walk. Her gentle stroll lasted until she was out of sight of Ponyville, upon which her pace picked up markedly. Fluttershy trotted down the dirt road until she reached a single pine tree by the road. Carefully, Fluttershy laid down the cake box next to the tree and spoke into the empty air. “Report.” At her words a small sparrow hopped out from behind the tree and alighted on a branch next to Fluttershy. It chirped a short greeting and held out something black in one small talon. Fluttershy took it and turned it over. “Hm. Changeling chitin. Different coloration than normal changeling armor, though. Did the ambush team run into another changeling scouting party?” The sparrow chirped once in confirmation. “Casualties?” The sparrow chirped again, and Fluttershy closed her eyes briefly. “How many?” The sparrow dipped its head twice. Two. “Prisoners?” Two cheeps this time. Fluttershy wondered whether the sparrow was telling the truth, but even if there had been prisoners captured, they wouldn’t be among the living now. “Well, tell Angel to bury the bodies of he hasn’t already. Have Ambush Group B take over once that’s done. I don’t think Chrysalis will send another party so soon, but let everyone know they’re to keep an eye out.” The sparrow nodded it’s head, and Fluttershy gave it a smile. “Thank you, Willow Wing. I appreciate you waiting for so long. I’m afraid the party went a little long, but I have a cake you can share with the others.” She indicated the box beside her. “The squirrels will deliver everyone a slice later. Just make sure no one overeats. And tell Angel to bury the bodies deep. No traces, okay?” The sparrow nodded, and flew away into the forest. Fluttershy left the cake box where it was, and continued back to her cottage. She had to feed her friends, or at least the ones not currently on duty, plan out the next ambush and check on the latest intelligence reports, and then have a word with Tank on the meaning of discretion. Fluttershy smiled to herself. It wasn’t the nicest of smiles, nor the happiest, but it was tinged with that could only be called grim satisfaction. This was the fourth scout group they’d intercepted this week, and despite the few casualties – each one a blow to her heart – Fluttershy’s small army had managed to totally annihilate each group of changelings they’d found. And when every bird in the forest was reporting any suspicious movements to Fluttershy, she was certain that no changelings had gotten through the forest. Idly, Fluttershy wondered how Chrysalis would react when she learned of another scouting group missing. She’d bet that Chrysalis wouldn’t be too happy with the news. ---- Chrysalis screamed. “What do you mean, you don’t know!?” The unfortunate changeling cowered back against the wall. He tried to stammer out an explanation, but it was too late. Chrysalis’s hoof hit the wall with a thump that shook the entire building. That it had also gone straight through the skull of the changeling was a minor concern, and Chrysalis only paused to wipe the green goo off of her hoof before turning to the second changeling. “Explain. Now.” Chrysalis listened with vexation as the second changeling stuttered and stammered his way through the scout party’s report. By the end of it, she was so disheartened she didn’t even bother to kill the changeling; she merely threw it bodily out of the room with a burst of green magic. The changeling had given her all the details, and wracked his brains for the slightest bit of information, but in the end it was the same story. A scouting party had been sent out five hours ago, and had failed to report back in. Again. A larger war party had been sent to find the scouts, but they’d run into countless traps and ambushes that took one or two changelings at a time and left no witnesses. The changelings had retreated until they reached the safety perimeter of guards Chrysalis had posted outside the main camp, and then the mysterious attackers had vanished back into the forest without a trace. It was the same story, and Chrysalis was getting tired of hearing it. The changeling queen paced up and down in the small room and felt the frustration building again. This wasn’t right. Absolutely none of this situation was right, right down to the fact that she was being forced to fight some mysterious army in the Everfree Forest in a small ramshackle hut, rather than ruling from Canterlot. What had happened? How had everything gone so wrong? Chrysalis knew what had happened. Twilight Sparkle had happened. Her and her stupid sunshine dance, which had led to Chryalis not only failing to conquer Canterlot, but being tossed hundreds of miles away by some kind of love-powered magical force field. That had been bad, but this was intolerable. Chrysalis reached one wall of her small wooden hut, snarled, turned around and reached the other side in three steps. This was what passed for her personal quarters these days, now. She had been waited on mouth-and-hoof by countless ponies in Canterlot castle, but now she was relegated to a small ramshackle building made out of wood by changelings. The hut was unevenly built, and held together with nails, excessive amounts of sticky tree sap, and luck. That was the problem with changelings, Chrysalis reflected. Aside from their ability to transform and fighting capabilities, the only talent changelings had was their ability to sing acapella. If you wanted technological advancement, you’d have to look outside the changeling race to get it. And that was what Chrysalis had done, and she’d laid plans and gathered her forces until she was ready to take over a nation in one daring move. She’d come so close, too. It had been within her grasp. But that stupid Cadence and the idiotic fool Shining Armor had ruined her plans and destroyed over half of her forces, leaving her in this pathetic dump. Chrysalis turned and paced back to the other wall. It took her three strides. She turned again, and tripped over a plank of wood some changeling had left there by accident. ---- The changeling encampment was full of busy changelings, eating, training, patrolling, or practicing their acoustics by singing popular changeling songs. They all stopped and turned as one as one of the huts in the center of the encampment exploded in a rain of wood and green magic. Chrysalis stepped out of the flaming wreckage and looked around slowly. At once, every changeling sprang into action, attending double-time to their duties with the exception of the singing changelings, who quickly went on guard duty on the other end of camp. All the changelings studiously avoided meeting Chrysalis’s gaze, or for that matter even glancing in her general direction. While her looks were not known to kill, her hoof and her horn often did the job instead, and that went double for when she was angry. Chrysalis’s gaze swept over the camp and alighted on a group of trembling changelings. These weren’t your typical changelings. It would be hard for an outsider to describe just what made them unique, but there was something – a slightly fading of their wings, more cracks in their chitin, and perhaps just the lighter blue of the eyes, that hinted at their advanced age. Still, they were changelings and thus still physically fit. They all wore red armbands, a variety of changeling medals, and expressions of utter terror. “To the war tent,” Chrysalis snapped. “Now.” The elder changelings rushed to follow their queen as she swept into a large tent in the center of the camp. When they finally mustered the courage to enter the tent, the changelings found Chrysalis studying a large map spread over a table in the center of the room. Muttering quietly amongst themselves, the changelings spread out around the tent, keeping a wary eye on Chrysalis as they did. They were Chrysalis’s advisors. Well, in truth, it would be closer to say that they were Chrysalis’s servants, because their actual usage in any advising capacity had ended long ago. Chrysalis gave orders. She did not react well to orders herself, or even the most gentle of suggestions, come to that. The so-called advisors were there so she had an audience, and to relay orders, and generally do the menial tasks Chrysalis had no inclination to do herself. It was a way to keep the elderly off the front lines, but since it was Chrysalis they had to wait on, no changeling regarded this as a very positive retirement plan. And now Chrysalis was studying the map, and her expression was not pleased. The advisors were not pleased either. As the elders of their race, they could not expect the quiet dignity and respect that came with age. They could expect Chrysalis to unload her fury on what she considered useless invalids, though. “Why is this happening?” Chrysalis’s question was more to herself than her advisors, but they knew better to interrupt in any case. She peered closely at the map in front of her, tracing one hoof across it. Anyone looking at the map in front of Chrysalis would have been impressed with the quality of cartography displayed before them. It was a downsized version of the Everfree forest, with Ponyville on one end and the changeling camp on the other. It’s normally very hard to recreate geography that accurately, but when you have scouts that can fly it makes things much easier. It had been a risk sending so many scouts to fly above tree level, but Chrysalis had deemed the risk worthwhile. Over forty scouts had been deployed and less than half that had come back. But now there was an accurate map of the area, and with it Chrysalis could begin to plan out her counterattack on this mysterious force in the woods. However, there was just one problem. “Total destruction.” Chrysalis said it and every changeling in the tent winced. “That’s what we’ve had. Every scout group we’ve sent, including the one we just sent full of elite soldiers, every one has been wiped out not ten miles away from camp. And what’s more, they were all killed so quickly and so completely, not one managed to escape or alert the camp.” Chrysalis smashed one hoof down on the table, causing the changelings to jump. “We can’t even find the bodies of the enemy!” She roared. “We know there must be some, or else we’re dealing with an invincible, invisible army here!” The changelings quaked as Chryalis paced back and forth in front of her map. She bent down and peered at a series of red flags. Each one marked the site of an engagement, and they were spread out in a neat semi-circle around the changeling’s camp. “They’re predicting our every movement. They must have scouts somewhere we can’t see them, and traps everywhere. Whomever is in this forest somehow knew we were coming and got ready for us.” Chrysalis swung back to her advisors. “Some pony in Equestria has not only the brains to set up these ambushes, but also has the resources and horsepower to try to engage us here. Shining Armor couldn’t do that, and he’s the captain of Canterlot’s Royal Guard. What I want to know is who or what is out there, and why are they attacking us?!” The changeling advisors quaked and trembled amongst themselves. They had no answers to Chrysalis’s questions, and that was not ever a good thing. However, when Chryalis asked a question, she required an answer. The silence in the tent lengthened as Chryalis’s gaze turned murderous and the changelings counted down the moments until she snapped and disemboweled them all. At last, one of the newer advisors raised a timid hoof. He ventured that perhaps, just maybe, it was Twilight Sparkle who might be behind this, given her previous successes. He got no further than this however, because a blast of green magic quite literally fried him in his exoskeleton, “Twilight Sparkle!?” Chrysalis roared. “That pathetic unicorn doesn’t have half the intelligence needed to fight a war! I don’t need stupid speculation from you idiots, I want hard facts! If I lose one more scouting party to one of those damned ambushes, I’ll murder every single one of you and use your corpses as paperweights! I want to know how to deal with these traps. If every single changeling is killed, maybe I should just sent twice that number and—” Chrysalis paused, and the anger that had filled her vanished as quickly as it had come. She slowly walked over to the map of the Everfree and studied it intently for a minute. Then she carefully went over to a smaller box filled with carved figurines and set two changeling figures down, one in front of the other. She looked up at her advisors. “We’re changing our plan of attack. No more scout groups. From now on, we’re sending attack squads into the forest to find whatever’s out there and to kill it. Get me all the squad commanders and don’t send any more changelings into the forest until I’ve issued my orders.” Changelings around Chrysalis sprang into action and she sat back, pleased. She held up one small wooden figurine carved to look like Twilight Sparkle in her hoof. “I don’t know who you are,” she whispered to the figurine, “but you’re gravely mistaken if you think I know nothing of war. You may think you know something of strategy, but I was born with more cunning than you’ll ever possess.” Chrysalis slammed the carved figure onto the table and slowly ground it into a fine powder. “Just you wait. This war is only getting started.” ---- Five changeling warriors ran through the forest. They didn’t pause to look for traps, or even to avoid the tree branches in their way. They crashed through the forest, running full-out in the direction of Ponyville. They ran as fast as they could. The changelings knew they were in the hot-spot of the forest, where all the scouting parties went missing and they were not keen on being next. Their plan of action was simple. If they ran fast enough, they might outrun whatever had killed all of their comrades before them. It was a good plan, at least for changelings. However, the changelings failed to account for one singular fact: it’s hard to outrun a tripwire. The first two changelings hit the rope stretched across two trees so hard that their legs snapped and they crashed the ground in unison. The next changeling, having been farther back skidded to a halt, but too late, he hit the tripwire too. His legs didn’t break, but the resulting momentum catapulted the changeling over the tripwire and into the ground at speed. There was a loud crack as his neck snapped. The last two changelings managed to avoid the fate of their comrades and backed away from the rope hurriedly. They scanned the forest in front of them frantically, searching for any sign of movement. A bush rustled and both changelings froze. A small mouse scurried out of the bush and stood up on it’s hind legs. It peered intently at the two changelings and squeaked once. The changelings paused for a second, but their surprise didn’t last long. They mentally evaluated the situation as one changeling. Orders were to retreat at any contact with the enemy. On the other hand, this was a lone, singular mouse. Discipline warred with bloodlust and lost. The changelings charged the mouse. The mouse squeaked again. The bushes parted and the changelings saw not one mouse, but a hundred mice, squirrels, moles, and other smaller rodents coupled with blue jays, robins, sparrow, crows, and a hawk. Most carried some kind of weapon, whether a small knife or a sharpened fork or just a sharpened bit of wood. The mouse squeaked one more time as the two changelings frantically tried to reverse their momentum. The animals charged as one. The trap would have worked well. It would have been a perfect ambush, with three changelings already incapacitated and the remaining two stunned and bewildered. It would have worked very well, were it not for the ten other changelings appeared out of the forest behind the first group and closed in a flash with the ambush party.