Big Mac looked into the big blue eyes of the Hermit and realized that he was completely helpless. And possibly in very grave danger. He had never heard ill of the Hermit, aside from her strangeness and standoffishness; it seemed unlikely that a thirteen year old Pegasus filly meant to kill him. On the other hoof, right now he was mesmerized by her gaze, incapable of moving a single voluntary muscle, and facing not only a mind-witch but a probably-angry brown bear, though he could not tear his attention away from those terrifyingly-intense eyes to tell what the bear was doing. Right now, the Hermit's eyes were the center of his whole universe, whether he liked it or not.
He tried to speak, tried to give her a placating smile, and discovered that these muscles were also paralyzed. She or her familiar bear could kill him, and he wouldn't be able to fight back, or protest.
Or even answer her question.
She seemed to realize this too, because her expression softened slightly. "Oh!" she said, and her voice sounded more like the soft, dulcet tones he had imagined it would be when he had caught those distant glimpses of the hermit. "You can't talk. Oops -- sorry -- I'll give you back your voice."
She did ... something, Big Mac wasn't entirely sure what ... and the pressure on his mind let up slightly. He still couldn't move most of his body, but now he thought he could talk. He gasped and coughed by way of testing his renewed control over his throat muscles.
"Thankee kindly, Miss Hermit," Big Mac said. He still couldn't move his head, but he could now move his eyes, and he saw that the bear had moved closer, to a position behind and to the side of the Hermit, one from which if it wished it could step forward and in an instant strike him down. But it was not attacking, and he somehow knew that it would not do so unless he attacked the Hermit, or she ordered it to hurt him.
"You're welcome," said the Hermit, levelly. Her voice was no longer as hostile, but it was still far from friendly. There was a somewhat breathy tone to it, as if she found the effort of talking to a Pony strenuous. "Now -- why were you pointing a crossbow at my friend Harry?"
"Harry?" Big Mac asked, then answered his own question. "Oh. The bear."
"Yes," the Hermit replied. "The bear. He's my friend, and if you'd shot him with a big crossbow like that ..." she looked down for a moment, "... high-tension, steel-framed repeating arbalest ... you would have hurt him very badly. Or worse. Why would you do something that mean?" There was almost a sob in her voice, as if she found it difficult to grasp why any Pony would shoot a huge brown bear.
But then, she had called Harry her 'friend.' Ah guess Ah'd be pretty mad at someone who nearly shot mah friend, Big Mac mused.
"He took a piece outta me first," Big Mac pointed out. "Mah tail."
The Hermit moved around him, and though Mackie couldn't see exactly what she was doing, was clearly looking at his hindquarters. "Oh, my," she said. "Yes, he swiped your skirt. Did he hurt the dock much?" Her voice was becoming solicitious.
"Eenope," Big Mac replied. "Missed it."
The Hermit turned to the bear. "Harry," she said reproachfully, "why did you try to hurt this Pony? I told you not to hurt Ponies -- it's no wonder he was hunting you."
The bear bawled. It was a complex sound, but BIg Mac could make nothing out in it that he hadn't heard in any other bear's bawl. It seemed a bit indignant.
The Hermit looked at Big Mac. "Harry told me that you ran at him and yelled, and grabbed another Pony he'd made friends with. Why did you frighten him like that?"
"Frighten ...?" Mackie began, starting to get mad; then considered his position. He was still paralyzed by the Hermit's spell, and still in the presence of her pet bear. "Miss Hermit, yore friend Harry was loomin' right over mah little sister! Ah was afeered the bear might do her harm!"
"Oh!" said the Hermit, clearly seeing it from Mac's point of view for the first time. "Oh, dear, I see how you might have gotten that impression. Oh, Mr. Macintosh, I didn't realize what had happened." She relaxed a bit, and Big Mac suddenly had the ability to move his neck muscles, though still not most of his body. "Harry doesn't want to hurt Ponies. He wasn't going to harm your little sister. When you yelled at him and grabbed him, he thought you were going to harm her. He was trying to protect her from you."
"Protect ...?" Then Mackie thought it through. If one understood nothing about Pony ways, save perhaps what one eccentric teenaged filly had taught one, his previous encounter with Harry might have looked like that. From the bear's perspective. It actually made sense.
"So you see," said the Hermit hopefully, "this has all been a big misunderstanding. Harry, you're not going to hurt Mr. Macintosh here, or any of his family, or any other Ponies that aren't trying to hurt you, right?"
The bear made a noise which Big Mac had to assume was affirmative, by the Hermit's answering smile.
"And Mr. Macintosh, you promise not to hunt my friend Harry here any more, right? You give your word, as an Apple?" The big blue eyes looked into Big Mac's own, this time with much less hostility.
Big Mac thought a moment. He didn't think that the Hermit wanted to hurt him any more; the terrifying mind-witch seemed to be receding, leaving a rather refined-seeming teenaged Pegasus filly. There was something in her tone and her manners which made him think that she was some sort of Quality, what the Pegasi called High Born.
Though she hadn't fully lifted her spell. He still couldn't move most of his body, still couldn't fight. And she still had Harry on her side. So he was still far from safe, if she changed her mind.
But if he gave his word -- at all -- he would feel honor bound. That would be enough for him, though the Hermit had been clever enough to ask him to give his word as an Apple, which meant that he would be bound by his family's honor as well. He wondered, briefly, if somepony had told her about himself, about the Apples, enough for her to realize just how seriously he took his own honor, and that of his family.
He really didn't have much of a choice, unless he intended to fight both the bear and the mind-witch, which would be difficult seeing as that he couldn't really move. And she didn't seem unfriendly.
And she'd made the bear promise first not to hurt him or his family, though he wasn't sure how far he could trust the word of a bear. Though he wasn't about to call the bear a liar, especially not right to its face while he was paralyzed.
"Eeyup," Big Mac said slowly. "Ah give mah word, on mah honor and mah family's hohor." Though he could now look slightly away from the Hermit's eyes, he instead chose to meet them completely, letting her see his sincerity. As a mind-witch, she could probably see that sort of thing directly, and he wanted her to know that he too wanted to bury the hatchet.
Something seemed to pass between their eyes, and it must have been close to what Mackie intended, because the Hermit gave a sort of little gasp, and then abruptly Mackie was free. His first act was to point the arbalest away from both the Hermit and Harry, then refasten the safety, making sure it was secure before he restored Ol' Bessie to her carrying case.
The Hermit and Harry both relaxed, which was good, because each of them was frightening in their own ways. The tension in that little clearing dissipated, along with the smell of fear from all three of them.
Big Mac breathed easier. Then he nodded at the Hermit.
"Thankee, Miss Hermit." A thought occurred to him, and he met her gaze again. "Ah cain't keep calling you just 'Hermit.' That's no way to talk to a young lady. Ah'm Macintosh Apple, but everpony calls me 'Big Mac.' How should Ah call you?"
The transformation in the Hermit's manner was immediate and obvious. Now that she was no longer in a life-or-death situation, defending her bear from his bow, she made a little squeak, sounding somewhat like "Eep," and suddenly shook her long pink mane so that it almost covered her face. One blue eye peeped out at him shyly.
"Um ..." she said very softly, sitting down and planting her forelegs directly before her abdomen -- a good position for protecting herself from a Peeper, though Big Mac had shown absolutely no inclinations toward such behavior. "Um ..." she said again, blushing furiously. "Um, I'm Fluttershy." The last came out as little more than a breath; had Big Mac not been leaning forward, ears up to catch whatever she might say, he might have missed it, and as it was he wasn't entirely sure that he'd heard her right.
Mackie had no idea why the powerful mind-witch was now acting afraid of him. He looked at the bear questioningly, but Harry just sat down and whuffed, finding immense interest in the contemplation of some ants crawling along a trail. He began licking up the ants.
"Alright, Miss ... Fluttershy, was it?" he asked.
The Hermit nodded furiously and then hid her face completely.
"Nice meetin' yeh," Big Mac began. "Good thing nopony ... um, or bear ..."
Harry looked at him with a kindly expression.
"... got hurt," Mackie finished. "Ah'll be goin' now, if it's all right with you, Miss Fluttershy." He was starting to feel nervous himself. This is a social situation now, Big Mac thought. Ah don't rightly know what to say to a mindwitch who ain't much more than a filly. T'aint normal.
She nodded again.
"Bye, Miss Fluttershy," Mackie said, and began walking down back down the way he'd come. Then he turned. "Um, yew prolly don't want Harry going too far in that direction," he pointed toward the Carrot Garden. "That's a farm family that way, and he might skeer them."
She nodded, peeped out at him for a moment. "Bye ... Big Mac," she said, and hid again immediately after speaking his hame.
"Bye," Mac repeatedly, awkwardly, and gratefully departed.
Strange filly, he thought. Guess she ain't so bad. Plumb powerful, though. Ah see why she ain't much skeered o'critters -- they're prolly putty to her mind-witchery.
Wonder why she lives all alone like she does, though? He mused on it briefly, then decided, T'aint none of mah business, Ah reckon.
Another problem had occurred to him.
Aw, shoot, Ah went out there all sure Ah was gonna shoot that bear, Mackie realized. Gramps and Granny are counting on me to succed for us all to be safe.
How am Ah gonna explain to them what actually happened?
He supposed he'd just tell them the truth. That always works best, he decided. So that's what Ah'll do.
With a slightly lighter heart, but some trepidations, Big Mac headed back for home.