//------------------------------// // Guess Who Is Whooping to Dinner // Story: Ynanhluutr // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// “Are... are you sure you're alright?” Nick asked. “Mmmmf...” Flare drank from a potion-filled coconut shell and nodded into the red sunset. “For the brillianth time, yes, needlepoint.” “Uhmm...” Nick squinted. “'Brillianth' is not a number. You know that, right?” “Spoken like a true landwalker.” She belched and tossed the empty coconut shell over her shoulder. As it landed in the soft shore beside the Swan Song, she turned and rubbed her head, gazing out across the glittering waves. “Full of numbers and... gmmfff... dust...” “You're still hurt, aren't you?” Nick leaned in, stretching a hoof out to her forehead. “I-I've taken several first aid courses. Maybe I could bandage that for y—” She clasped his fetlock in her own. He jolted forward from the muscular grip. Within an instant, both ponies were reminded who was stronger than her. Ultimately, she squinted at his paralyzed stare and said, “You're softer than down feathers pooped out of a turtle.” “Uhhhhh...” His muzzle meandered between pink and green shades. “Thanks?” “You'd shatter upon so much as touching coral.” Flare's hard eyes narrowed on him. “Why would you throw such delicateness into the brine?” “What, you mean with the Swan Song earlier?” He smiled nervously. “Well... uhhh... to b-be perfectly honest, I thought I could lend Rainbow Dash a hoof.” “Mmmmf...” She nodded. “So it was for the colorful landwalker that you risked your dry hide.” “Well... y-yeah. I-I mean I was only planning to get close enough in order to provide the means for cruising back to shore. But then I saw what happened to you. And... like... Ultimo was gonna chomp on ya and none of the other ponies could get close enough—” “It was a foolish decision,” she grumbled. “Only a true warrior should have stuck his shaven neck out for the glory of Verlaxion.” “Well... uh...” Nick frowned slightly. “Maybe I-I wasn't thinking for a second about Verlaxion! Maybe... j-just maybe I wanted to do what I could to save you!” He stared at her. “Because... uhhh... you're super strong and... erm...” He gulped, shivered, then wheezed: “Sxhshll...” “What was that?!” Flare tilted her head to the side. “Mmmm...” Nick bit his lips. His cheeks turned red. “Erm... s... s-sexy as hell...” He coughed, his voice still squeaky. “And it'd be a shame to know that all th-that got chomped to bits by a giant death fish.” Her brow furrowed. “Your voice is weak and feeble. You haven't got gills instead of lungs, have you?” “Uhhhh... what?” A pair of wings spread as she growled: “Say it again.” “What p-part?” “You know the part.” He blinked. “Erm... you're sexy a—” The stallion's eyes widened as her muzzle clamped over his. “Mmmmm—!” His horn sparkled and his tail flicked, for the mare was inhaling during the entire “kiss.” At last, when their lips parted, he stumbled forward with an embolded: “as hell!” “Hah! There!” She grinned. “Sucked it right out of you, landwalker! All you needed was to expand your lungs! Whoop!” “Er... r-right...” He shuddered, legs squirming into the sand. “My... lungs... ahem.” “Pfft!” She spat onto the sand, rubbed her muzzle, and stood up. “Come with me.” “Buh?” He looked up at her. “Our brothers and sisters have prepared a feast in honor of the day's bloodletting. She swatted his side with a set of wingfeathers and motioned towards a kindling bonfire beyond the treeline. “Perhaps you can test out your lungs more.” “Why not...” He smiled crookedly, stumbling after her. “I'm a h-huge fan of the initiation so far...” “Thunker Meat...?” Sora trotted into the decrepit concrete hovel that once served as the Nealend Atoll's lavish visitor's center. Candle light loomed in the main atrium, and a cloud of incense tickled the native's nostrils. “Guhhh!” He wretched, waving a hoof before his muzzle. “Verlaxion's sleet! Are all continents covered in fruit?!” He approached a tightly sealed door with a “do not disturb” sign on it. “Hey! Thunker meat!” He pounded his hoof on the doorframe. “Raise your head to the stars! For the feast is about to begin!” A muffled voice hissed from inside. “For the Queen's sake, will you hold for one minute?! I'm making a masterpiece in here!” Sora grinned. “You can make that in the ditch we dug for you outside! Whoop!” “Ugh! No no no no no, my little plebeian! An honest-to-goddess work of art!” At last, the door unlocked from the inside. The stallion in question backtrotted out from a makeshift darkroom, holding several sheets of freshly developed photographs. “This!” He slid up his goggles and pointed gleefully at the contents within his grasp. “This is the fruit of today's labor! It's a sheer miracle that the original negatives survived the amphibious trip to get here!” “Since when did you use frogs to harden the souls you've stolen?” Sora remarked, blinking. “Ugh...” Theanim rolled his eyes. “Why do I even bother...” He flipped through the sheets. “Look, my good stallion.” He smiled as she showed off still-frames of Rainbow Dash narrowly dodging the jaws of Ultimo, a spears in her grasp. “I've even made copies for you and the locals! Now you'll have ways to share with your grandfoals just how you dealt with the menace from the deep!” “Ehhh... can't we just share it through whoop of muzzle?” Sora pointed at the flickering light source beyond the concrete building's entrance. “That's what bonfires are for!” “Surely you jest!” Theanim gaped at him. “Words are temporary and fragile! But photographs?! They can enrapture memories for ages!” “Hmmmff... a true waste of paper, if you ask me,” Sora said. “There are very few things we envy you landwalkers for. But if you had to make do with palm leaves two or three times a day...” “Perish the thought!” Theanim frowned at him. “I, for one, am rather proud of these photographs! Not so much for style but for substance! This Rainbow Dash... this mysterious mare who's blessed us with her presence... she is unlike any other pony to have passed through these parts!” “I agree with you, Thunker Meat—” “AND... what better a way to preserve the generous athleticism and selflessness she's exhibited today than with the best sort of material that... observational science... can... provide...” Theanim's words trailed off, for he was staring suddenly at a particular photograph at the top of his stack. “Hmmm?” Sora blinked at him. “What's wrong? Tongue caught a cat?” “It's... it's the other way around, good sir,” Theanim muttered. “But... alas...” His hoof graced a photograph capturing Rainbow Dash in mid flight. “...what in Verlaxion's name...?” “What?” Sora leaned in. “What is it?” “Are my eyes deceiving me?” Theanim, awestruck, pointed at a vague, dark shape hovering like a ghostly shadow beside Rainbow Dash. In the flickering candlelight, it was a creepily obscure blur that blemished the edge of the photographic paper. “This... this shape! What... what could it possibly—” WHACK! Sora's hoof slapped over the photograph, and suddenly the obscure blur became a wet splotch. “Hah!” Sora grinned. “Mosquito!” He leaned in further and liccccked the bug juices off the sheet. “Mmmmm...” Standing up straight, Sora swirled his tongue around in his mouth. “The blood's still warm, too!” He grinned at Theanim. “You taste quite healthy, Thunker Meat!” Theanim gritted his teeth, looking at the saliva-stained photograph. “Bring the soul sheets, friend!” Sora slapped his backside and trotted out the hovel. “My brothers and sisters will enjoy good licks between fish! Whoop!” “Yes... verily...” Theanim gulped something down his throat, picked up his bag, and hobbled after the native. “I think I'll just wait for dessert...”