//------------------------------// // Others are higher on the food chain. // Story: Lost of thoughts // by CraftAids //------------------------------// The cart squeaked along the road. He trotted through the night. He walked and read through the day. The day was about half over, and he was reading from about the middle of the book. The page with the flaming heart read: “On the eve of Hearth’s Warming, the windigoes fled as the great flame of friendship burned them all dead. For more on Hearth’s Warming or the fiendfyre spell, read ‘Friendly Flames’ and appendix 3L” Text under the picture read “Artist depiction of fiendfyre spell.” Apparently, the spell was friendship-fueled and it killed windigos and ended the permanent winter. The assistants of the three tribe’s leaders had been the ponies to perform the spell and it was a friendship between them that had served as the fuel. The people had been forced to learn to tolerate living in far closer quarters to survive. Many towns contained multiple tribes, after that point. Puddinghead died. For a few years, assassinations became common enough to go mostly uninvestigated and villages would occasionally burn themselves or other villages down. A floating cloud fortress was built. The book referred to it as “Old Cloudsdale.” It was untouchable to all but pegasi and exceptionally talented unicorns. Under the command of some pegasus general, they controlled the rainflow. Old Cloudsdale was nothing compared to the legendary cloud city fleet of the old world, but it was all the population could support. It could provide a large lighting charge, but it mostly served as a unifying center for the pegasi. From there, they directed pegasi around Equestria to freeze or provide rain and clear skies to villages, stopping resistance. They also maintained a snowy tundra around the equestrian border, deterring enemy scouts and invasions. The unicorns threatened to end the world if not respected, but nobody at any negotiating table believed them. Since Equestria was being isolated by the pegasi, they could stop news of the threat from spreading to the populace. The pegasus general died when- The cart dropped and he fell down. The book landed on the ground in front of him. The pages began turning to the end. They kept turning. The book remained open to approximately the middle as the pages turned faster. The book slammed shut. He looked back at the cart. The wheels were in pieces. He unlatched the metal cart-belt and sat next to a wheel. He poked it with a hoof. The axle snapped and the wheel fell to the ground and broke into more pieces . He pressed his hoof down lightly and watched as wood and metal alike crumbled into grains. The cart would not be moving on. He bit the handle of his sword. He held the book between his hooves. He would not be able to continue reading. He put away his book. He was still in the Everfree and he was still hungry. He pushed the box of his cart to the side of the road. It sat there, displaying it’s mismatched and mildly misshapen side panels. It was just a wooden box, now. He walked into the forest. Most of his time was walking and finding. He found a red flower and some tulips and a bunch of those weird, yellow-purple things that tasted like white Airheads. He was full, but he was still stocking up. He walked into a clearing of grass and the best flowers. The blue flowers. The first flowers he had eaten. He ate one. The slightly numbing sweet and sour peanut and tea gave way to those electric taste surges. He resisted eating more. Instead, he picked them and packed them into his saddlebags. He felt a tremor in the ground and stopped for a moment. He picked faster and then put his sword back in his mouth and ran on four legs. He was practiced at trotting like that, now. He was quieter, more agile. He could move swiftly between the trees and bushes. He could also hold a sword in his mouth. The sword bounced off a trunk with a resounding ‘thunk’ as he passed. He heard a low, loud, rumbling roar. He ran harder as a pulsing tremor in the ground grew. The road was close, he knew it was, but there wasn’t any real safety there. The pulsing took on a faster, confused beat. He would have to fight it. He would have to take his sword and kill something which could best anything short of a slug-loaded shotgun. He would put it off for as long as he could. A bush was crushed behind him. He dodged behind a tree and the large creature behind him followed. The creature was slightly worse at taking corners then he was, it seemed, based on how far back its steps sounded. He darted to a second tree and gained just a bit more ground there. As he glanced back, he saw the behemoth attacking the third tree. The tree lasted 4 seconds, but he gained what ground he could in that time, and he made it across the road before the behemoth was right behind him again. He ran around another trunk. The behemoth was in front of him, as it had not followed him around, this time. He swung the sword and the behemoth swung a clawed arm. The savage blow sent the sword flying. He scrambled after it with all the force he could muster. As soon as his mouth was on the handle, he turned and sliced the air. The behemoth pulled back and stopped just beyond the end of the swing. The pulsing in the ground continued. It roared at him. Huge, blue, fish-lizard heads ripped into the behemoth. He turned and ran as fast and as far as four hooves could go.