//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Love // Story: CiderCon Chronicles // by SSCiderConOfficial //------------------------------// CiderCon Chronicles Chapter 4: Love "...never say "no" to pie..." Clean Plate, Gourmand The changeling heard the little colt returning long before he saw him. The pounding of his hooves, and breaking of underbrush clearly marking his return. In his absence, the changeling had slipped in and out of consciousness so he was unsure how much time had passed. He still felt apprehension about the colt's return. He feared that when the little pony returned, it would be with others. Others whose intent would be to drive him away. He was still trying to make sense of their first encounter. The changeling had been sure that when the colt had emerged from hiding after being hissed at,it would be to chase him away or to do violence to him. Instead, he approached with kindness, and calm. Then there was the utterly confusing conclusion to their first encounter. He had collapsed, his strength completely spent. He heard the colt approach. Then love and kindness washed over him. He was confused. There must have been another pony nearby. Surely this little colt, this Bramley, wasn't feeling this way towards him. Was he? No. That couldn't be right. Mother didn't feel those things, why would any other creature. Nevertheless, the emotions flowed, and he consumed them. They weren't much. Just a life preserver thrown to a drowning pony who had yet to be pulled to safety. But, it was enough. Enough to keep him in this world for a bit longer. Enough to instill in him the long forgotten commodity known as hope. ******************** The changeling saw Bramley tear through the last of the forest at the top of the gully, and feigned unconsciousness. He looked around surreptitously through a partially open eye. He was relieved to see that the colt had returned alone. He watched the little pony stop a few paces away, and unencumber himself of the saddlebaskets. Bramley unfolded a patchwork quilt, and walked slowly towards the changeling with it. As Bramley draped the quilt over him, he felt his own meager warmth reflect back to him. A sigh escaped his nostrils at the sensation of warmth. Bramley, hearing the sigh, looked down at the changeling and smiled. "Good." He said. "You're still with us." The changeling opened his eyes, and looked up into Bramley's. "Well, I figure you oughta try and eat somethin' next. I mean, you got some cuts and scrapes and all, but nothin' that looked like it put you in this state." " Unless you usually look like a skeleton, I'd figure you're starvin'." The changeling was unsure how Bramley was going to feed him, but was hopeful after their previous encounter. Bramley reached over to the baskets and withdrew a piece of fabric with something inside. "This," he was saying, "is some of my Mama's apple pie." He eyed Bramley dubiously, unsure of what "pie" meant, but fearing that it was "food". Bramley partially unfolded the cloth and fiddled with the contents. He pulled off a roughly slice shaped piece and presented it to the changeling. The changeling goggled at the slice. His stomach recoiled at the memory of the other triangle-shaped, mud-tasting, "food". He moved his head to escape from it. "C'mon, " said Bramley, unabated. "You gotta eat sumthin'." He moved the pie nearer to the changeling's face. The changeling bared his fangs. He inhaled to hiss at Bramley... ...and got a good whiff of the pie. It smelled differently than other food. It was sweet, warm,and appetizing. The changeling stopped, dumbstruck. For a moment, he stopped seeing the pie through the prism of his previous food debacle, and experienced it objectively. It exuded warmth, kindness, love. It gave them off in waves. It was as though someone had concentrated those feelings, and caused them to coalesce into this form. He looked at Bramley. He looked at the pie. He looked at Bramley. Bramley smiled reassuringly, and edged the slice closer. The changeling leaned his head towards it, and took an exploratory bite. The effect was like nothing he'd ever experienced. It filled his mouth with happiness and joy. When he swallowed it was as though he had swallowed a fragment of the sun. Life giving warmth radiated from it as it went down. Life, and light, and heat travelling to every atom of his being enervating his listless body. He was aware of the sting of joyful tears at the corners of his eyes, but the sensation came from far away. He was adrift on a sea of tranquility. He felt renewed, and strong, and peaceful. He stood there, eyes closed and still as stone, and bathed in the sensation. In time, the light of the inner sun faded, but the vigor that it radiated stayed. Bramley watched him with a rising sense of fear that something was wrong. The creature was standing there, crying wordlessly. As the last of the sensation faded, the changeling's eyes fluttered open and he stared at the pie in wonder. Then he looked to Bramley and smiled. Bramley smiled back at him. He chittered something in his own language then, realizing that Bramley couldn't understand him, furrowed his brow. There was a "FWOOSH" of colored fire. Now it was Bramley's turn to be confused. A moment ago, the alicorn-beetle thing stood in front of him. Then it was on fire. Now the alicorn-beetle was gone, but in it's place was him. Sort of. It was wearing a vest identical to his upon its salmon colored body, and a short black horn protruded from under his light green hair, and the creature's bug wings and bulbous eyes remained. Bramley stared at in a mix of wonderment and horror. The changeling saw the emotions on Bramley's face, and his heart fell. He feared this was all about to end badly. "W Wh..." Bramley stammered. His mouth fell open into an "O". "That's... " Bramley's expression changed to joy. Words tumbled from his mouth in a rush. "That's amazin' ! Fingle fangle ! I can't believe you can do something like that. I ain't never seen anything like that before ! What else can you do? Can you do magic tricks? How does it work? Can you turn into a dragon? Can you breathe fire?" Bramley caught himself. As amazing as this creature was, and as much as his ministrations had seemed to help, he was still not well. "Sorry," Bramley apologized. "I just ain't never seen anything like that." Bramley smiled his crooked, sheepish grin. The changeling beamed at him. Ecstatic that Bramley was not repulsed by him. Then he croaked out the first words he'd spoken in longer than he could remember. "More pie?" Bramley smiled at the situation. Here was some creature from a nightmare lying at the bottom of a gully, covered up with one of his Mama's quilts, and asking for more of the pie that had, seemingly, brought it back to life. He laughed out loud as he broke off another piece and handed it the creature, saying "Yes, sir! Comin' right up! " Their merriment was interrupted by the sound of snapping branches at the top of the gully, and a mare's voice. "Bramley! Git away! That thing's dangerous!" ********************