//------------------------------// // II // Story: We Are Born From The Mist // by NeverEatTheLemonsAlone //------------------------------// The two tumbled out of the small cave, a snarling ball of fur and feathers landing hard on the plateau and breaking apart upon impact. Though Hurricane certainly hadn’t expected the wolf to just lie down and die, nor did she expect this kind of fighting. She was no stranger to wolves. The earth pony druids had fought using them in the older wars, after all. This wolf, though, was far larger and more resilient. It had taken blows from her spear that would’ve crippled a normal wolf, or killed it outright, and just shaken them off, seemingly without much pain. For its part, the wolf had given as well as it had gotten, and Hurricane now sported several long slashes on her right flank. Though they were shallow, they hurt more than expected and bled heavily, distracting her from the real problem, namely the rather large beast in front of her. Her right eye was also swelling, nearly shut now, where she had bashed it on a rock while she was wrestling with the beast. That was a far more serious injury, for though it didn’t hurt nearly as much and in and of itself posed no threat, it would impair her far more in the rest of the fight than the slices. As it was, she was at a disadvantage during a night battle, considering the wolves' night vision. Adding the complete lack of depth perception that an eye swollen shut would bring, and death was almost assured. Despite herself, she cast a quick glance at the cave where she had sheltered, the magical candle still bringing a bluish glow to the small, enclosed space. Once again, she berated herself in her head. If she hadn't tackled the wolf out of the cave, her disadvantage would be lessened and she would gain the advantage of moving with greater freedom in the smaller space. No sense worrying over things in the past, though. She desperately needed to escape, and if she just had her spear, she could with ease. However, her armour was incredibly important, and without the map, she could be lost in the Sleipnir range for months, if not longer. The candle, though lesser in importance, was something she loathed to leave behind; it was impressively expensive and had been given to her by a dear friend during the final migration to Equestria. Her mind raced. Okay, Hurricane, you've been in worse situations than this before. Not that many, but it's happened. What are you going to do? If she could get at least one or two piece of her armour on, she could probably hold the wolf off until she could deal a killing blow. The problem, though, is that the wolf was very large and very powerful. If the wolf bit at her and she couldn't block, she would, in all likelihood, die a bloody, painful death, which, needless to say, was not on her to-do list. All of this thought took only a few seconds. Before she could make any more advances in thinking, however, she was cut off by the wolf growling, then lunging at her with surprising speed for such a large creature. She barely managed to dodge, the cruel teeth snapping shut only inches from her exposed throat. Retaliating with a lunge from her spear, she managed to land a solid hit on one of the wolf's legs, biting deeply into the bone. It whined in sudden pain and shied backwards, looking at her with new caution in it's eyes. She smiled grimly. That's right, back off. If I can keep this up, I might not even need armour. Prowess increased by her newfound confidence, she darted forwards, catching the wolf off guard with her aggression and slicing the razor-sharp edge of the spearhead down the length of the wolf's ribs. It recovered quickly and lashed out with its heavy paw, meeting nothing but air as she nimbly ducked and extended the spear in a powerful lunge. The wolf, expecting another attack, slid to the side, and unable to draw back in time, Hurricane gasped in pain as the powerful jaws clamped down on her foreleg. Thinking quickly, she dropped the spear and hammered three powerful hooks into it's eye with her rock-hard hoof. The mouth loosened slightly and, bracing herself, she wrenched her hoof out, hissing at the rush of pain that assaulted her nerves. From not so far off, another wolf howled and she stiffened up. She needed to finish this quickly. As the wolf recovered from the salvo of punches, Hurricane retrieved the discarded spear and brought the oak shaft down on it's head with both hooves, stunning it for a crucial second. Slipping underneath it's legs, she grunted with effort as she thrust upward with all of her strength, the blade slipping through the ribs and embedding itself in the massive heart. The wolf went slack on top of her and sagged down, pressing on her with massive weight. Exerting a significant amount of her strength, she rolled it to the side, then struggled to her hooves and limped into the cave as fast as she could, ignoring the pain from her flank, foreleg and eye. She buckled on her armour as fast as she could, haphazardly ramming the map and blanket into the saddlebag, followed by the hastily-capped candle. Slinging the bags over her barrel and cinching them tightly, she made her way to the entrance of the cave as fast as she could, then stopped short, more out of surprise than anything else. Waiting for her by the slain wolf's corpse was a group of four more that were, if anything, larger. With bestial growls, they charged forward. The sounds galvanized her into action and she leapt into the air, flashing over their heads with a few powerful flaps of her wings. Their angry eyes followed her as she frantically bolted into the air above the stones, her breath ragged and panicked, winging her way north as fast as she could fly. She didn't sleep again that night.