//------------------------------//
// Part Four 
// Story: The Most Dangerous Game 
// by Warren Peace 
//------------------------------//

THE ARROW sticking out of Burst’s right flank seemed to sneer back at him as he eyed it with worry. The wound had, thankfully, stopped bleeding sometime during his mad dash. But that was the only redeeming factor in his current situation.
“Just...cut it out,” Burst said to himself, not moving, “N-no biggie,” he stammered.
The light above continued to dim from a sunset orange to a nighttime black. Burst threw another glance about the small clearing he now lay in. The area was grassy and flat, perhaps a hundred square feet of vegetation that was less dense than usual. Trees still blotted out the sky above, but they remained more sparse than was normal for the forest.
A single stream bisected it, gurgling blissfully in from one wall of dense vegetation and disappearing into another. Burst could spot no tracks in the grass aside from his own. That, however, meant little when one of his pursuers could fly.
“Cut it out,” he repeated, gingerly drawing his knife with magic, wincing as a light movement made the arrow flinch. He bit his lip as the knife inched closer and closer to the wound.
He gave a yelp as the cold metal touched the bloodied flesh of his flank, the knife dropping to the grass as his concentration imploded.
“No, I-I can’t!” he gulped, “I’ll just have to deal with it,” he said, taking a deep breath and steeling himself, “C’mon, Burst Rate, you’ve felt stuff ten times worse than this!” he gritted his teeth and shoved himself to his hooves...and gave a sharp cry of pain as the arrow thrust him back down on the ground, “O-okay, I was wrong, haven’t felt anything like this before!” he whimpered past stinging tears.
His ragged breath nudged at the grass as the pain ebbed back down to a dull ache. The darkness of dusk began blotting the far edge of the clearing into a wavering mass of black tar.
“Damnit, Burst!” he snarled, striking the ground with a hoof, “get ahold of yourself! The arrow needs to come out and you’re going to do it! You’ve bucking got to!”
Igniting his horn and scanning about the darkness, he magicked a plethora of small shrubs and sticks into a pile before him. Arranging them into a small fire pit, he condensed the molecules of a small portion of air, accelerating them faster and faster until a small spark of magical flame burst into existence. He sent the ember into the kindling, throwing a sideways glance at the sound of an animal’s cry in the distance.
Being wet, he had to keep up the small spark spell for a minute before the first pieces of wood ignited. As the kindling began to burn he released the spell, giving the knife an anxious look.
His stomach gave a gurgle, happy to distract him from what was to come if only for the time being.
A couple cans and a couple minutes later and the fire was a crackling cesspool of heat. Darkness had settled fully over the forest, the crickets and frogs back at their repetitive songs. Burst almost felt able to relax in the peaceful moment...almost.
Steeling himself, Burst dipped the knife’s blade into the flame with his magic, anxiety clawing through his mind like a rat behind his eyes. Once the blade began to redden, he pulled it out. For a time the blade simply levitated before him, as if unwilling to do what he needed to do.
He clenched his teeth, it needed to be done whether it frightened him or not. If he couldn’t move about he wouldn’t be able to escape the General and his dogs and if he couldn’t escape them...he didn’t want to dwell on that thought.
The knife floated over towards the wound and, almost as an afterthought, he picked a thick stick from the ground and bit down hard on it, steeling himself with a calming breath.
In went the knife.
A burning hot chill iced its way into his flesh, bringing fresh tears to his eyes as he gave a loud yelp past the stick. He gripped the arrow with his magic, giving a gentle tug as he forced the knife in further, blackness dancing about his vision from the pain.
Burst gave a long cry, clenching his teeth hard enough to split into the bark as the knife pressed deeper into the flesh. In the back of his mind he tried to remember what the zebra had shown him.
Cut around the arrowhead… he mentally whimpered, ...free it from whatever muscles and bones surround it and it will come out.
Feeling with the blade as he wiggled it about, he found where the arrowhead had ended up. Burst gave a long, choked wail as he began to carve around it, fresh blood flowing freely from the wound and staining the grass a deep maroon.
His nerves shot arrows of pain through his skull as he felt muscle and sinew around the arrowhead split and sever under the knife’s influence. The blurred shapes of demons danced about his tear-torn vision, the knife and wound slipping in and out of focus as he fought to keep back the bliss of unconsciousness.
His magic flickered, dropping the knife as black oblivion threatened to overwhelm his senses. Near blind with the pain, he let out a groan, magicking the knife back up and pressing the blade back into the wound.
None of this was fair, he struggled to think past the oscillating pain that continued to drive itself up and down his hind leg. He ought to be curled up in a bed aboard the yacht, sailing to or at home already. He ought to have his face buried in a good book, curled up next to his fiancee by the fireplace in their little home. How was this fair? What had he done to deserve this fate!?
A choked sob split forth from his lips as his teeth dug notches into the wood he had them clamped around.
Yet here he was, stuck on a godforsaken island being hunted like a common criminal by a psychotic griffon and his hounds. An arrow was lodged in his hind leg and he was digging a knife around to try and pry it free. He was probably going to bleed to death or die from infection, become a feast for the bird and his dogs. 
Nopony would ever find him, there’d be nothing left...
...unless he survived. Unless he got this arrow out of his leg...unless he continued to elude Rayford and his hounds...unless, he came to realize, he became exactly what that damned griffon wanted:
The most dangerous game.
It was no use simply running about like a frightened animal. He was no mouse to be chased about and toyed with! The General was a cat by all rights, but so was Burst Rate: famed camera hunter extraordinaire! Perhaps he and the General took different things from the game that they hunted, one heads, meats, and skins and the other only pictures; but both were trophies and both were taken by the same sport: hunting.
Somewhere in the depths of his half-conscious mind, Burst remembered something that the General had said: “You and I, we are two of the strong of this world. Life is for the strong, to be lived by the strong, and, if needs be, taken by the strong.” the griffon had said over dinner and drinks.
We…we are two of the strong of this world Burst thought as the knife dug through him.
“They can reason! Think!” the General had said sometime later, “like me! That makes them dangerous, and dangerous, mister Rate, is exactly how I like my game.”
The General wanted dangerous game? The most dangerous game?
He shall have it, Burst thought, I will be the most dangerous game!
With a sickly, sliding sensation the arrow finally jerked and came free, a copious amount of blood pouring from the wound…


~ ~ ~ ~  <  \/   /\   \/  >  ~ ~ ~ ~


...It took a goodly portion of his hunting clothes as well as some ground mosses to stop the bleeding. By that time, Burst was already feeling weary and woozy from the blood loss. Looking at the crimson crust caking most of his leg and the copper-smelling pool he’d made alone nearly made him pass out.
But he knew he had to keep moving, keep ahead of the General at all costs. Burst took a few breaths and lurched to his feet. The world swam before him, his injured leg throbbing beneath him as he nearly collapsed. It hurt less that it had with the arrow, and it was as good as it was going to get.
Prey might quail and give in, but he was no longer prey. He was still game, he could not deny that, but now he was a predator. The current holder of the griffon’s record for longest surviving game, Burst remembered, was a griffon who’d made the General himself feel hunted at times. And so would he now.
He had caught the General once in a trap, had a chance to slay him then and there. Likely the General would think him gravely wounded now, ready to give in and die.
Let him think that, Burst Rate thought grimly, this time I’ll go for his throat rather than his bow!...


~ ~ ~ ~  <  \/   /\   \/  >  ~ ~ ~ ~


...His first few steps were nearly unbearable, leaving him blinded by tears and supported by quaking limbs. But Burst Rate grit his teeth and shoved himself onwards towards the edge of a clearing.
Burst stopped to listen a moment as he reached where the thick clumps of foliage began, ears cocked as he listened. Water hushed quietly from the stream, the fire behind him cackled quietly to itself, and crickets and bullfrogs sang together merrily.
Grimacing, he pushed himself into the thick embrace of the forest. He squinted in the darkness, a needle of fear slipping into his heart as the shadows played tricks on him. There was a griffon, hunched and waiting, there a pack of dogs slinking about. He halted only long enough to ensure they were tricks before moving onwards, careful not to leave any prints.
The General and his dogs are at home asleep, Burst Rate reasoned as he searched, they haven’t attacked at night yet, they’re getting a good night’s sleep for tomorrow.
It didn’t take him long to find a sapling that was just what he was looking for. Snapping off a small limb, he used it like a baton in conjunction with his knife to free the straight sapling from its roots.
After hacking off the rest of its small limbs, he shortened it to a more proper length. Wedging the butt of it against a tree to keep it still, he batoned a plus-shape into the end he’d shortened. Taking a couple of the sturdier limbs, he shortened and wedged them into the plus shape, forcing them down to make four blunt prongs. These he sharpened into four points, creating a four pronged spear, just as the zebras had shown him.
Now all he had to do was fire harden it.
Makeshift and simple as it was, he felt a bit of pride as he beheld the new weapon, trotting back towards the clearing. It was no bow and arrow, but it was one thing he doubted the General would expect.
He almost trotted right back into the clearing, but stopped  just at the foliage edge as something felt off. One eye narrowed as he beheld the area. There was his small fire, mostly pulsating embers now. The same stream bisected it, inky black in the darkness. Nothing stood out in the open area, no sign of the General or his dogs.
Burst sniffed at the air, listening to…
The silence.
He gulped, taking a step back. Something had disturbed the crickets and frogs from their songs. Burst hoped it was some simple animal, a deer or fox, but deep down he knew how likely it was that the General had stocked the island with such creatures. Not when he had his most dangerous game to chase.
As he watched the clearing, a massive chunk of shadow broke free from the forest, pausing at the far end of the clearing. Burst strained to see, watching to see if it was only an anomaly. But it moved cautiously towards the fire, silently.
It froze as a twig snapped, making Burst flinch from where he watched. Anomalies didn’t snap twigs, Burst Rate knew.
Again it moved towards the fire, dark against the shadows that had gathered around to watch the flames. Closer and closer, step by step growing sharper until Cossack stepped into the firelight, the massive, red earth pony glaring about silently.
His crossbow sat cocked and loaded at his shoulder, the bolt’s tip gleaming in the light of the flames. Burst watched, unsure of what to do as Cossack surveyed the scene, suspicion gleaming in his eyes.
No doubt he expects a trap, Burst thought.
He could retreat back into the forest, escape now and hope the pony wasn’t as good as the griffon at reading prints. But that option made itself scarce as Cossack lifted Burst Rate’s bag of food, glaring down at it.
I could wait him out, but if he takes my food… Burst Rate’s eyes narrowed, falling to his newly carved spear. He couldn’t let that happen.
Cossack’s flank was to Burst Rate as he slipped quietly from the foliage, sneaking forth with a mild limp from the arrow. Still holding the spear in his mouth, Burst angled around so he was coming in from behind his foe.
Canned goods spilled across the grass as Cossack upended the bag, still looking suspicious. Burst’s heart pounded in his ears as he came in from behind the large pony. All of his aches and pains swept away the few stray thoughts in the back of his mind. 
Could he really take a life? The life of another pony?
His eyes narrowed as he clamped down harder on the spear’s shaft.
Step by careful step he grew closer and closer, dropping the spear from his mouth and taking it with his magic once he was close enough. One of Cossack’s ears twitched as Burst’s horn ignited.
Burst Rate charged forth, thrusting the spear forwards to...be knocked away as Cossack spun. He slapped the spear away with a powerful hoof, Burst’s telekinesis shattering as the weapon disappeared into the darkness.
Cossack’s crossbow came to bear, a hoof rising to the firing mechanism. But Burst Rate didn’t stop his charge, letting out a cry as he rammed into the larger pony, shoving upwards on the crossbow as Cossack fired. The bolt thunked into a tree’s outstretched limb overhead.
Cossack let out a snort as Burst Rate drew his knife, adrenaline making his heart rate soar as he shoved it at the larger pony. But Cossack simply slapped the knife away as if it were a mere fly, then his hoof came back around and stars burst across Burst’s vision as he was flung backwards.
Burst hit the ground hard, letting out a pained yelp as he hit the dirt. He tried to get up, but another crimson hoof smashed into his face, putting him back down. Burst choked as blood filled his nose and mouth, coughing as Cossack’s powerful form appeared over him.
Before he could rise again, Cossack pressed his weight down into Burst Rate’s neck, choking him of his life. The smaller pony kicked and bit, but his blows might as well have fallen against a mountain.
Burst let out a silent, choking shout as Cossack’s hard eyes bore into him. He squirmed, but Cossack only pressed down harder, a darkness filling in the edges of Burst’s vision as he failed to draw breath.
He scrambled for something, anything as he continued to kick upwards with his hind legs, trying to find a soft spot but hitting only rock hard muscle. His forehooves found nothing within reach, and his spear and knife were nowhere to be seen.
Fear pierced his heart as it pounded up into his ears, choking for oxygen so close he could taste it. But Cossack did not relent, black dots dancing across Burst’s vision, his struggles failing as he looked back up at Cossack...and saw it.
The bolt, stuck in a tree branch above.
He ignited his horn, grabbing at it with failing tendrils of magic, tugging and pulling as the darkness crept slowly across his vision. Black spots intermittently hid the bolt above him from view as they danced across his eyes, telling him he was about to die. He continued to tear and tug at it, doing his best to ignore the growing darkness.
Burst’s lungs burned, his head heavy and woozy, inky blackness spilling out across his eyes but just as he thought he was going to go under, he felt the bolt come free from the tree and let it fall. It seemed to drop in slow motion, the heavy head coming about as Burst’s magic failed.
Gravity did the rest.
Cossack’s eyes went wide with surprise as his legs dropped out from under him. Burst Rate barely got a breath in before the giant earth pony fell atop him, faced pressed right against Burst’s. For a few moments, the larger pony’s eyes glared full of hate and surprise, but slowly glazed over as a deathly rattle escaped him.
Burst gulped down precious oxygen, the weight of the body nearly preventing him from doing so. He lay there for a few minutes, getting his breath back before shoving at the body atop him, trying to free himself. His hooves trembled against the literally dead weight and for a moment he feared he might be stuck, but then the corpse shifted and rolled off to one side.
Burst scrambled back from the corpse, still getting his breath back. He grimaced as he brought up a hoof to rub his sore neck, not doubting it would bruise.
Then his eyes bulged wide as he rolled to one side and puked, the sounds of his retching filling the quiet of the clearing. His body trembled as the taste of bile lingered on his tongue, the stench of half-digested food and bile filling his bloodied nostrils.
Then Cossack let out a moan.
Burst Rate gave a startled cry, hopping up as he turned to find the giant...still dead, listless eyes staring beyond infinity.
Spitting to clear his mouth, Burst approached the body with caution. Giving Cossack a quick once-over, he spotted the bolt that had saved his life. It had plunged straight down into the back of Cossack’s neck, severing his spine near the base of his skull. Even so, he gave the body a kick.
It didn’t react.
A sigh of relief escaped Burst Rate as he sat back, getting his racing heart back on a slower beat. He had killed again. First Wolf, now Cossack.
There was a twinge of something in the back of his mind. Regret? Shame? Fear?
He tore his gaze from the body, shoving the thought away.
“He came here to kill me,” Burst snapped at himself, spitting again to clear the taste of bile from his mouth, “He was killing me, only fair I returned the favor.”
The mental twinge withered away.
Burst Rate winced as he stood again, heading out to grab his spear and knife…


~ ~ ~ ~  <  \/   /\   \/  >  ~ ~ ~ ~


...Cossack had no doubt left a trail to the clearing, meaning the General would have a direct path to him if he stuck around. After gathering his things and dousing the fire, he was off again, carefully plotting and invisible path through the dense foliage.
The darkness of the young night smothered him, forcing him to squint down every once in a while to ensure he wasn’t leaving any trail to follow. He wondered how the General would react when he came across his dead pony.
Fear, Burst mentally growled, I should hope. Yet thinking back over everything he knew about the General, he began to doubt that assessment, No, he’s likely too insane to even comprehend fear. If anything, he may come at me all the harder. He paused for a moment, thinking on that and giving the ground a worried glance. He ignited his horn just long enough to examine his prints, or a lack thereof, before continuing with renewed care.
But I’ve upped the game as well, he thought, eyeing the spear he’d tied across his back. He settled his eyes on the impenetrable darkness before him, and I plan to end it the next time I see that feathered bastard...


~ ~ ~ ~  <  \/   /\   \/  >  ~ ~ ~ ~


...Burst continued his tireless trot long into the night, putting a few good hours of meandering travel in before he stopped for a short rest. Sleep again tugged at his eyes and he knew that he needed his rest after losing  so much blood.
Still, the thought of closing his eyes, letting his guard down even for a moment, left a sour taste in his mouth. He cast his gaze about the dark forest as he settled down at the base of a tree, keeping both knife and spear within easy reach.
He hissed in pain as the wound in his leg flared up, glancing back and igniting his horn to ensure it remained closed. It did.
Laying out, he settled his head atop his forehooves, letting his eyelids flutter shut as he attempted to sleep. Breath by breath he got his breathing under control, slowing his heart and focusing on relaxing his tensed muscles. His agitated fright kept him on edge, drawing him back each time he felt the onset of sleep. Yet each time the interval grew and eventually darkness consumed him.
His dreams were anything but pleasant...


~ ~ ~ ~  <  \/   /\   \/  >  ~ ~ ~ ~


...Dull sunlight warmed his muzzle by the time he snapped awake, ears snapping to attention as he took in his surroundings.
Yet he heard nothing out of the ordinary, an ideal step above what he’d awoken to yesterday.
Pushing himself to his hooves he dug into his bag for a canned breakfast, happily noting the fact that even he couldn’t tell where he’d come from. He’d done a much better job at covering his tracks this time around.
Tucking the empty can back in his bag, he started off again at a calculated pace, weaving this way and that through the forest, tracing an unfollowable path through the foliage.
Today was the third day, only one remained and the General was almost on his own. Would that make him hesitant, Burst wondered, or all the more eager to find and kill him?
We’ll just have to wait and see...


~ ~ ~ ~  <  \/   /\   \/  >  ~ ~ ~ ~


...It was well into the day and Burst Rate was enjoying a can of pineapple when an all-too familiar voice cut through the foliage. 
“I found Cossack’s body this morning!” the General’s voice called out through the foliage, “it intrigued me, how he managed to die. However did you accomplish such a feat, mister Rate!? You must show me, I am truly intrigued!”
I’ll show you all right, Burst gave a mental growl. He stood from where he’d been taking a quick break, polishing off the can quickly as he grabbed his spear, Do I stalk him and strike or try to escape? he wondered.
“How did you manage it, mister Rate?” the General called out again, “Pluck it from him and drive it down into his neck? Have you finally come to your senses about my hunting, then? Are you ready to partake in the hunt for the most dangerous game?!”
He doesn’t know I have the spear, Burst decided, moving off in search of the voice. He kept quiet, moving like liquid through the foliage as he flanked around the sound of the General’s voice.
“No, no, that hardly makes sense, I know…knew Cossack quite well,” the General’s voice paused, “I doubt a pony such as yourself could be sneaky enough to steal a bolt right from under his nose,” the General laughed, “No, he probably managed to miss somehow, yet that in and of itself seems just as unlikely. I could hardly imagine a pony such as yourself capable of such a feat!”
Snarling, Burst spat back his own cry, “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of, General Rayford! And you’ll be just as dead from it as well!”
Silence replied.
The sudden lack of noise was somehow chilling, making Burst pause mid-step with his spear held aloft. Why had the General suddenly ceased his banter?
Idiot, idiot, idiot! Why did you reply, now he knows where you are! Burst chastised himself, keeping low and creeping away as he realized his folly. His heart rate spiked upwards at the snap of a branch above and he ducked away quickly, glaring up.
A slight creak met his ears. Burst threw himself to the side, the nip of something sharp stinging the side of his face. The arrow thunked into a tree behind him.
Scrambling to his hooves, Burst let out a wild cry as he brought his spear before him. The General grinned from a branch, two arrows left in his quiver. He hopped down, gliding forth on silent wings to land a few paces from the pony.
“He refuses to run!” the General laughed, sliding the bow back into its quiver as he brought his talons to bear, “Perhaps I should not so easily dismiss you of killing Cossack, mister Rate. I like your spear, four pronged, fire hardened, shall we see how you wield it?”
Burst prepared to thrust the weapon forwards when there was a sudden crash of foliage and Otis tackled him from the side. The smallish dog snarled and snapped onto Burst’s right ear as he plowed into him, knocking him to the side.
Burst rolled, bringing his spear close to him as he crashed through the foliage and down the steep slope of a hidden hill. Otis yelped in surprise as Burst grabbed onto him with his hooves, the two of them rolling in a tangle of limbs to the bottom of the hill.
Otis clawed at his belly and snapped at Burst’s face, ready to tear out his throat. The dog let out a yelp as Burst hoofed him upside the head, knocking him away. He got to his hooves quickly as the dog snarled and began to circle, looking for an opening.
He’s trying to buy time for the General, Burst thought, bringing up his spear and lunging forwards. Otis ducked to the side and bit down on the spear’s shaft, trying to wrench it out of Burst’s magical grip. He felt the weapon slipping and bit down on the other end, yanking back.
Grabbing a rock in his magic, he flung it at Otis’ face, knocking him off the spear with a yelp. Burst pulled back.
The dog’s yelp turned to a gurgle as Burst drove his spear’s fire hardened tips into the creature’s throat. The spear made a sick sucking sound, blood bubbling out of Otis’ neck and maw as he pulled away. The dog stumbled backwards, whimpering up blood.
With a grunt Burst drove the weapon into the meat of Otis’ right foreleg, yanking the weapon free as he hit the ground. Burst fled to the sounds of Otis choking on his own blood, breathing hard and glancing about for signs of the General.
Wings fluttered above as something large dropped a shadow across him. Burst threw himself to the side, bringing his spear to bear as the General crashed down on where he’d just been. A mad smile lit up his face.
“Another dog?” the General hardly spared a glance back as Otis continued to die, his painful writhing already beginning to slow, “I have toyed with you too long, mister Rate!”
Burst thrust the spear forwards, the General sidestepping and slashing forth with his claws. Burst yelped backwards, smacking the General across the ribs with the spear as he went. The griffon hardly seemed to notice as he pounced forwards, claws outstretched.
Hopping back again, Burst got his spear between them, keeping it close enough to grab with his mouth should the General try to take it.
The General’s tail twitched back and forth as, ever the predator, he began to slowly circle the pony, keeping just out of reach with the spear. His smile hardly faltered as he laughed, undermining Burst’s confidence.
“Where has this sudden fight come from, mister Rate?” the General inquired, “you truly have come to your senses, then! Perhaps if you survive your last day you will join me now that you’ve killed Cossack?”
“Never!” Burst growled back, feinting forwards with the spear. The General flinched back, smiling all the way as he continued to circle.
The General gave a shrug of his wings, “Some time still remains for you to change your mind...or for me to take it,” his smile widened.
Or for me to take yours! Burst jabbed forth with a cry, hoping to catch the General off guard. Instead, the General caught his spear.
Burst bit down on his end of the spear, pulling back with both magic and muscle. He drew his knife and thrust that forwards, but the General ducked and it went wide. Before he could bring the weapon around for another attempt, the General’s claws swept forwards.
Only by jerking his head to one side did Burst retain his vision in both eyes. He cried out as the General’s talons sliced troughs in the left side of his face, missing the eye by an inch. At the same time, the General yanked hard, tearing the spear from Burst’s imploding magic and tossing it away.
Keeping only the knife between them now, Burst scrambled away, wincing at the pain rippling across his face. The General matched him step for step, grinning all the way. Burst shouted as he slashed forwards, twisting the knife and slashing the General’s hand as he tried to swipe the weapon away.
The General darted back, crimson dripping from his claws, “The pony has grown claws!” the General called, glancing only a moment at his injury.
“Do you like their feel!?” Burst snarled back, blinking away blood.
The General struck again, rushing forth in a mass of muscle, talons, and feathers. Burst let out a shout, slicing wildly as he turned and fled into the dense undergrowth. The General was only a few short paces behind, charging right after his quarry.
“If you cannot face me,” the General gave a short chuckle, “Then you’d best turn and run!”
Burst let out a growl, gritting his teeth against the pain as he pulled the knife in closer to keep from losing it.
Open combat isn’t the way to go. He’s larger, faster, stronger! he let out a curse as some low hanging branches slapped across his bloodied face, and he’s got those talons, the pain reminded him.
Maybe I can’t outfight him, but I’m smaller, I can navigate this forest much faster! Burst’s mind raced, I’ve outraced him before, I can do it again!
So onwards he charged through the forest, leaping high and ducking low, heart racing as his breath came in short, gulping gasps. The crashing of foliage behind him let him know that the General kept on his tail...though was slowly losing ground to his smaller adversary.
Burst’s legs burned beneath him as he galloped. Over a rock and under a tree’s limb, the leaves slapping him in his bloody face. Then all the green dropped away, the soft soil turning to hard stone beneath his hooves. He skidded to a halt, breathing hard as he came to the edge of a cliff. Rabid waves tore at the bottom nearly a hundred feet below, blue-black in the growing light.
No! No! No! Burst mentally snarled. He couldn’t be caught at a dead end like this! He turned, preparing to run when the arrow took him in the shoulder. Burst Rate cried out, the knife dropping from his magic as he stumbled away...and over the edge of the cliff.
Scrabbling, he managed to snag the edge before he plunged down to his death, whimpering as the arrow jerked and tore at him. Gritting his teeth, he made to hoist himself up but froze as the General’s grinning head poked over the edge, eyes lighting up as he nocked a final arrow...and laughed suddenly.
Burst’s ears folded back at the sudden sound, bloodshot eyes finding that the General’s bow was still only nocked.
“You know, mister Rate, I’m standing here and wondering something,” the General began, laughter dying suddenly.
Burst adjusted his grip, grimacing at the pain the arrow was causing him.
“You’ve nearly beat the record for my most dangerous game. Succeeded where others haven’t in some ways. Cossack and a number of my pack defeated, not to mention having me dead to rights multiple times!” the General looked out over the horizon for a moment, “and I find myself wondering...wondering something strange, mister Rate. You’ve provided to be one the most dangerous game animals that I’ve ever come across,” the General gave another chuckle, “so I wonder...should I let him live, or shall I send his soul to the gods and keep his head as my trophy?”
Burst Rate winced, scanning about for something…anything he could use as a weapon. Yet he couldn’t see his knife, nor any weapon but the General’s own bow, and that he held tight. He could try to throw the griffon off the cliff, but he had wings and would surely just take to the skies instead of fall.
The salt of the sea washed up the cliff face to him.
“Well, I have a proposition,” the general continued with a wide grin, “join me.”
Burst Rate was quiet, grimacing with pain as he held onto the cliff.
“Take Cossack’s place beside me,” the general continued, gaze boring right into Burst Rate’s soul, “I can always get more diamond dogs, but when it comes to good ponies it’s a whole nother story. You will be provided for like a noble of the old times! Eat the finest of foods! Sleep in the finest of beds! Bed the finest of mares!” he chuckled at the last part, “Should you so wish.”
“And hunt the finest game? The most dangerous game!?” Burst snarled back. The General’s smile, impossibly, widened, Burst’s injured hoof slipped for a moment, sending pebbles crashing down, “This is insane, General! Utter madness!”
The waves ripped and roared up the cliff once more.
The General threw back his head in a laugh, “Madness is simply what the unenlightened call the ideals of the enlightened!” he retorted with his grin. For a time he simply stared down at the tiring Burst Rate, gaze calculating, evaluating, almost caressing the pony like a prize animal, “You cannot be made to see reason and join me?” he finally inquired.
Burst Rate glanced back over his withers at the sea below, then gave the General a hard stare.
“Good bye, General Rayford,” Burst Rate growled.
“Good bye, Burst Rate,” the General grinned, drawing his bow in a swift motion to finish the pony.
But Burst Rate didn’t give him the pleasure as he let go of the cliff, falling to the embrace of the sea. The General faded quickly as the wind tore at him, the ocean racing up to meet him with its salty, wet embrace.
Darkness took him as he hit the water.


The end