The scratching of a quill filled the tarpaulin tent, stretched tight and held in place by six wooden pegs. Next to the diary, a candle illuminated the enclosed space; the tiny flame stood proud in its glass dome, casting dancing shadows across the tent’s inner walls as they rippled with the breeze. But there was no need to fear. The tent had been through worse storms and would weather this one easily.
At least, so he had assured her.
A thunderclap rumbled outside, short and sharp before retreating into the distance. The quill’s scratching stopped momentarily as the mare gripping it tensed, her ears skyward and her breath suppressed. Only when the rumble accompanying the gentle pitter-patter of rain faded did the scratching resume. Her mane hung flat, still in the process of drying. The air was crisp and cool; she shuffled closer to the candle’s light and warmth as the wind picked up outside her sanctuary.
… to have such a brave pony looking out for me. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s saved me. I know he told me from the start that it would be dangerous, but for the first time since I stood up to Iron Will, it’s like…
I feel confident. Well, thunder still scares me (how silly—a pegasus scared of thunder, right?), but I’m facing my fears a lot more often. I think, with all I’ve seen, that
“Fluttershy?”
The scratching stopped again.
“Open the cage! I’ve got it!”
Fluttershy dropped the quill and stretched her hooves, grasping for a small steel key. I was just beginning to get dry, too. She sighed, but unzipped the tent’s single flap and stepped out into the diagonal rain. Cold raindrops pricked at her fur, though she ignored the jabs, for what her partner was dragging through the mud could have quite possibly been the most intriguing yet disgusting creature she had ever laid eyes on.
Fluttershy hated viewing any animal in such a way; it went against her nature, against the element for which she was known. She supposed its swollen purple face was not really as slimy as it looked, and that it simply had no use for ears, eyes, or a nose. The forked tongue that lolled out from between its mandibles—almost as long as its body, and subsequently, herself—was a fairly nice shade of grey, as far as greys went anyway. Maybe it really needed every one of its hundred-or-so miniature, hooked red legs? And the hundreds of foot-long, razor-sharp, retractable spines covering its back, ready to impale any potential predators—
Okay, no bones about it—this was the ugliest being Fluttershy had ever seen. It wriggled and writhed in the chains binding it, wrapped around its entire body. Some spines managed to force their way past their restraints, a mismatched thicket of white death poking up toward both tamers’ faces.
“The cage, Fluttershy.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.”
She trotted over to the side of the tent, where a six-by-eight-by-four collapsible mesh cage lay ready, a canvas draped over the top to protect its confines against the weather. Another of the creatures was already inside, huddled against the cage rear. It gave a start at the sound of Fluttershy inserting the key to a large padlock and unfurling a thick chain from around the door.
Before it could even begin contemplating an escape—assuming it knew it was imprisoned in the first place—the gruff stallion dragged his captive over and, with a mighty tug, swung it into the cage. He murmured a single choice word, and Fluttershy watched as the binding slackened, releasing its hold like an iron snake suddenly judging its victim unworthy of consumption.
While Fluttershy clicked the padlock shut again, staring at the pair of hybrids, the stallion flicked back his forehoof. Like an obedient dog, the chain snapped back and retracted until it wrapped around his foreleg like a shackle. He wiped his forehead with his other hoof and flicked his head, sweeping his lengthy brown mane over his shoulder. Water dripped from every part of his body, though how much was sweat and how much was rain, Fluttershy could not tell.
“Phew. That one suuure didn’t want to budge,” he said in his strained, nasally voice. He panted for a few seconds, leaning against a nearby tree. After a deep gasp, he stood beneath its branches and shook himself off, again brushing his mane onto his back. Catching Fluttershy’s eye, he grinned. “Well, that’s two of them. One of each gender, just like Celestia wanted.”
Fluttershy looked back into the cage, her mane held aloft by the breeze. She shivered at the sight of the creatures crawling—or slithering?—toward each other, the larger one’s spines retracting as they came closer together. Despite their ungainly appearance, she felt a pang in her heart. Those poor things, trapped in a cage together. They never asked for this…
“Shy?”
“Hm?” She shook her head and dragged her eyes away from the pair.
“You know, if what we’re doing… if it’s too much—”
“I’m fine. Really.” She forced a smile to her face. “You’ve done your job. Now it’s my turn to calm these critters down.” She gripped the key. “They shouldn’t have to suffer through this.”
“You don’t want to stay in the tent?” The stallion waved at the dark clouds. “You’ve seen how Everfree storms can get. It won’t be pretty.”
“I know, but…” She paused and bit her lip, key in hoof, ready to turn. The padlock shook in her other hoof as another thunderclap threatened to split her eardrums. “Look at them, Cratus!” she shouted over the racket. “They’re so scared.”
The rain fell harder; the winds picked up. Fluttershy stood still, shivering as the downpour flattened her mane against her shoulders and forelegs.
“Fluttershy! Get it together. You need to look after yourself first!”
She turned her head, rain streaming down her face. With a last glance over her shoulder, she sighed and dropped the padlock. Key in hoof, she fluttered back through the flap, turning to zip it up as Cratus charged through. She sat there, staring at the zipper’s teeth while the tinkle of chains sang over the flapping tarp.
“Do we have any clean towels?”
She continued staring at the flap.
“Never mind, found them. You can stop looking now. Here—”
A towel flopped over the top of Fluttershy’s head.
“Dry yourself off. You look like you stepped out of a lake.”
Fluttershy reached up and grabbed it. A couple minutes of firm rubbing distracted her from the weather while she focused on her mane, body, and wings. After lowering the towel, she looked at Cratus. He had already wrapped his mane—as long as her own—in a brown towel and draped it over his back. She watched as he ignited the three lamps hanging from the ceiling. Thunder and wind continued to rumble and roar, but the fully lit tent allowed Fluttershy to relax.
“How do you do it, Cratus?” she asked after wrapping her tail in the dampened towel. “Just treat the animals how you do, I mean.”
“Eh?” He looked up from cleaning his chain, cloth in hoof. Some kind of purple gunk hung off it, and the metal had dulled in assorted spots along its links. “How can I treat an animal like an animal? It’s really not that hard. You just have to remember what they are.” He leaned in and peered at the chain, snorting as he rubbed. “They’re beasts, Fluttershy. They’re not like ponies, or your friendly domestic pets.”
“They still have feelings, you know,” Fluttershy muttered.
“Of course they do.” Cratus spat on his cloth and rubbed harder. “Nerve endings, pain receptors—”
“You know what I mean. I could tell they weren’t comfortable. I could practically smell their fear.”
Cratus sighed, dropped his cloth, and placed a hoof over his face. A second later, he lowered it and fixed his green eyes on her. “You knew what we were getting into. I asked you all the way back in Ponyville if you wanted to join me out here. I waited until you were sure. If you’re having second thoughts, I understand, but—” he pointed at the tent flap “—I need you to be honest with me. The last thing either of us needs out there is for you to choke up and leave me, or both of us, in a compromising situation.”
“I know, but—”
Fluttershy cringed as another boom filled her ears. When it faded, she took a deep breath. “I’m still getting used to all of this, Cratus. These adventures, everything we’ve done… this is all new to me. I’ve only had to deal with vicious creatures a few times before, and all those times I had my friends beside me to help. Out here, it’s just us and the Everfree.”
“I promised your friends I’d keep you safe.”
“I know you did. I’m not worried about us!” Fluttershy flopped belly-first onto her mattress, bouncing a few times before falling still. “I’m worried about those poor porcupedes out there.”
“‘Poor porcupedes’?” Cratus laughed and resumed his polishing. “The first time you saw one, you couldn’t keep far away enough from it!”
Fluttershy blushed. “It… that one j-just startled me, that’s all! With the spines, and...” With a quick glance at her letter, she sat up and faced Cratus again. “But now, seeing them in that cage together, in this storm, I just feel… well, sorry for them.”
“Look, Shy—” Cratus paused his polishing again “—I understand. If it makes you feel any better, I’d be fine with you there, trying to calm them down, trying to get a hooves-on experience… er, maybe not literally, actually. That might kill you.” He chuckled for a second, but his serious expression returned quickly. “If it wasn’t raging outside… if they weren’t in a perfectly snug, secure, covered enclosure designed for this weather, I’d be completely on board with you. Promise.”
He reached out to touch her shoulder. “But your safety comes first. Our safety. Don’t forget that.”
Fluttershy gulped, but nodded as his hoof left her shoulder.
“Now, let’s rustle up some food, ey? What do you feel like?”
* * * * *
The storm wailed on through the night, though Cratus’ promise about the tent rang true. The lamps were turned down; only Fluttershy’s faithful candle remained lit. Curled up beneath her blanket, she smiled as she finished scratching out the end of her letter. She picked it up and pored over it, eyes squinting against onset fatigue.
Dear Everypony (and Spike),
Ever since I left Ponyville, I’ve thought about you all every day. I’ve been away for weeks now, and I miss you and all my animals so terribly. I hope everyone, and every bunny and chicken and squirrel, all of you are doing well.
I feel we’re getting closer to the end of this journey. I suppose time will tell. We’ve already captured and delivered most of the creatures that Princess Celestia asked us to. The parasprites were easy. The worst part of that one was not giving in and feeding it when it started whining at me. Oh, gosh, that was hard. It had its cute little eyes, and it was making all these cute little sounds.
Our biggest challenge came with the Canis Major. Cratus caught the other Canis Minors in traps, but the Alpha mother was too smart to fall for them. I’ve never seen an animal so riled up before. I thought for sure we wouldn’t survive that encounter, but Cratus is simply incredible. He’s fast, he’s determined, and he’s really (I mean, really) good with his chain. I’m so lucky to have such a brave pony looking out for me. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s saved me. I know he told me from the start that it would be dangerous, but for the first time since I stood up to Iron Will, it’s like…
I feel confident. Well, thunder still scares me (how silly—a pegasus scared of thunder, right?), but I’m facing my fears a lot more often. I think, with all I’ve seen, that I’m becoming a stronger pony. I haven’t lost my compassion, though. Even now, there’s a couple of very interesting critters in a cage outside. It’s raining and blowing so hard outside our little tent, and all I want to do is rush outside and comfort them. Cratus says my safety is more important than theirs, but I just can’t think that way. Not even after everything.
Well, like I said, we’re getting close. There’s only a few more creatures on the list, and then Cratus said there would be one final thing after that. He won’t tell me what it is, though, not until we finish the list and he thinks we’ve both “Proven that we’re strong enough.” I don’t know what that means exactly, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out when the time comes.
Anyway, I’m sending you all hugs and kisses. Can one of you please read this out to my animal friends too? I’m sure they’d love to know I’m doing okay. I miss you all soooo much!
Love,
Fluttershy
With a tired smile, Fluttershy dropped her quill. After tearing the page from her diary and folding it, she reached over to her saddlebag and pulled out a small vial of liquid. Careful not to squeeze the dropper too hard in her teeth, she removed the pipette and held it over the tiny, flickering candle. Applying minimal pressure, she bit down until a single drop teetered, then fell.
Emerald light filled the tent. Moving quickly, Fluttershy grabbed the torn note and thrust the corner into the flame. She averted her eyes, a foreleg over her face as a brilliant flash came and went. When she lowered her leg, the candle breathed no more, and the Everfree’s darkness closed in around her like a smothering blanket.
Fluttershy yawned and flopped again to her mattress. Although she hadn’t noticed it during her writing, Cratus’ quiet snores drifted into her ears. She glanced over to his silhouette and smiled; that she could hear him snoring meant the weather had settled, something she’d failed to notice while finalising her letter.
The porcupedes invaded the forefront of her thoughts. Surely it would be okay to just… check on them? Make sure they weren’t too stressed out?
Another quick glance at Cratus. The silhouette hadn’t moved, nor had the snoring subsided.
Fluttershy took a deep breath and flapped her wings, hovering over her mattress. Wary of the hanging lamps, she moved silently to the tent flap and grabbed the zipper at the bottom. She winced at the faint purr of teeth separating—
“Fluttershy?”
“Eep!” Wings up, she spun on the spot; Cratus’ body had risen from the dark like a bear from hibernation.
“What are you doing?”
“Um…” Heart racing, Fluttershy blushed and looked away. “G-going to, um, the little filly’s area.”
Cratus snorted. “Be quick about it then. Don’t let the timberwolves bite.”
Fluttershy nodded and finished unzipping the flap. She poked her head out—and saw the eyes.
Pairs and pairs of glowing green eyes.
“Changed your mind?” Cratus asked while Fluttershy dragged the zipper back down in one swift motion and spun to face him, breathing heavily. “I told you before. This deep in the forest, you cannot take a step outside at night without becoming dinner.”
“O-okay. I… guess I’ll just hold it until morning, right?”
“Atta girl.” Cratus collapsed back onto his own mattress. Seconds later, the snoring resumed, leaving Fluttershy in the dark with nothing but those glowing orbs burned into her vision.
Please, sweet Celestia, let them be all right tonight.