Goosed!

by Estee


Tyranno Goosasaraus

"Applejack?" It came out in what was, for Pinkie, an oddly thoughtful tone.

She just managed not to sigh. "What is it, Pinkie?"

"You know how different species have different names for their -- well, you know." Pinkie managed a half-casual nod towards the foul cylinders littering what was currently a mere twenty percent of the available landscape.

Applejack, after some thought, went with "Uh-huh."

"Like with cattle, it's tath, and otters have spraints, and Spike -- it's fewmets, isn't it, Spike? I heard that somewhere..."

From about three body lengths behind Pinkie, a matching, rather weary "Uh-huh."

"Well..." Another look at the stuff. "This needs a name."

"Right," Rarity crossly said. "Pinkie, I believe we should currently be concentrating on --"

"-- because everypony's cursing at it, and if you're going to going to curse something, you should really really be cursing it by name. It makes things feel a little better that way, because it's more personal! I mean, that's why some ponies name their carts, right? Because when the axle breaks, you can say 'Oh, you stupid cart!' or you can say 'Oh, Luna's tail, not that dumb Betsy again,' and the second one feels so much better -- right, Applejack?"

"Uh-huh -- hey! Nopony was around when Ah -- how did y'hear 'bout --"

"-- so I'm going to give this stuff a name."

The fur of Pinkie's forehead rippled with concentration.

"Styrofoam," she decided, and looked satisfied with herself.

"What does that mean?" Rainbow immediately demanded.

"This stuff."

"And why are you calling it that?"

"I don't know. It just seemed to fit. How much further to Mr. Flankington's place?"

"A ways, Pinkie. We're pretty much goin' all the way out here. Any further than this an' we'd just 'bout be knockin' on Zecora's door." They were moving down one of the least-used roads in the settled zone, well away from Ponyville proper. Mr. Flankington, like Fluttershy, had his residence right up against the border of the fringe: he could see the less risky parts of the Everfree just by glancing out his back window, and was known to occasionally treat the place as just one more area to potentially source ingredients. And while there were still reminders of the goose infestation in this area, littering the road and looking for one last portion of clean leg to befoul, there weren't any actual geese. It was an odd absence, but Applejack didn't see any need to complain about it.

"Somepony should check on her," Rarity proposed.

"Can't split up. An' Zecora can take care of herself. Besides, if'fin this works, ain't gonna be any need. Let's jus' concentrate on what we've got goin' now. We get in there, we get the grass, an' we head back. An' we make sure we get it all. Mr. Flankington's pantry ain't gonna be anywhere near enough."

They'd left the restaurateur in Ponyville after asking him to fly wherever he could, scattering the supposed daily special into the crowds of geese, trying to make sure every fowl who might get a chance to eat it would consume just enough. And the pegasus, filled with an old combination of pride that somepony finally had use for his craft and mild insult as to what that use was for, had agreed -- but there had only been so much grass in the restaurant. He typically didn't bring much in: just enough to serve his theoretical maximum customer load, which generally wound up being several thousand percent over the actual number. The rest had been left behind at his home. In the greenhouse. And so the group had forced their way out of Ponyville, eventually reaching the surprisingly-empty road, on a deliberate quest to inflict the greatest gastronomic disaster the settled zone had seen since The Day Of The Baked Bads.

"Okay," the pony who'd been responsible for the last triage tent said. "Everypony remember what we're gonna do?"

"We go into the greenhouse," Rarity recited. "Then into his domicile. Heat the grass for three minutes at two hundred degrees, and add exactly the spices he described: the list remains in my saddlebags, Applejack. And then we make our way back to Ponyville, serving out paid samples all the way. And speaking of which... exactly who is paying for all of this? I know Mr. Flankington to be a generous sort of stallion, especially when it comes to -- taste trials..."

The winces came from everypony in the group, but were heaviest on Rainbow (who, despite an extensive accumulation of previous experience, still had a hard time passing up anything remotely resembling a free meal) and Spike (who could digest just about anything and so had spent hard years serving as Test Subject Of Choice).

"...but this is his -- well, if not livelihood, then at least his product. He is willingly sacrificing the crop for the good of the town, Applejack, but you said it would be paid for, and that much gourmet grass -- or at least what he believes to be such, and charges accordingly -- adds up to..."

"The mayor's gonna pay for it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Carefully, "Because?"

"We're doin' this 'cause she asked us to. So she's coverin' expenses. Only fair. If the police had noticed that first, they'd be takin' the money out of the budget too. We work for the town, we use the town's resources. That part's their responsibility."

"...except that," Fluttershy softly said, "it's our fault..."

And Applejack, who had taken the lead, heard all the hoofsteps and wingbeats behind her stop, internal ice finally spreading out to freeze everypony in their tracks.

She turned. It seemed to take a very long time, along with every bit of effort she had to give.

"So," she said heavily, "we're doin' this now? Really? With the solution right up ahead? Come on, everypony, we've gotta prioritize here --"

"-- no," Rainbow cut her off, forelegs starting to cross again. "I think we can spare a few heartbeats for this, because I've been wanting to hear it for a while now, and there isn't anypony else around to eavesdrop. We don't even have a goose who could listen in. So let's hear it, Fluttershy. Why is this mess our fault? Because I never did anything to insult any geese. Okay, other birds, sure. I've -- gone through a few migration paths. During migrations. And I totally had the right of way that one time. Just about every time. And if they're going to keep trying to build nests where everypony knows I go out to work on stunts --"

"-- I think I know," Pinkie said, her voice oddly soft. "There's only one thing it could be, isn't there?"

Fluttershy nodded.

"And what's that?" Rainbow demanded.

"...they're from the Empire," Fluttershy said.

There was just enough denial in the next word to pick up on, a tiny amount of forlorn hope that the realization Rainbow was speeding towards would be somehow snatched away before she ever reached it. "So?"

"...and... who freed the Empire?"

The frozen tableau fell silent. Spike's eyes had closed. Pinkie and Rarity both looked sick. Fluttershy's eyes were lightly coated with moisture. Applejack couldn't move. And as for the last --

"No!" Rainbow suddenly shouted. "I'm not taking the blame for that! No way, no how! That's just stupid!"

"...but we did," Fluttershy whispered. "When the Empire came back... the world didn't just regain the crystal ponies, it got back everything that lived there. All the plants, all the animals. And most of that... won't matter, not for the world as a whole, because they're so isolated up there and hardly anything travels through the border storms at all. But the geese migrate. We helped free the crystal ponies, and... everything which comes with them, Rainbow. This is us..."

"But we didn't plan it!" Rainbow yelled. "We didn't mean to do it!"

"...it doesn't matter..."

"Yes, it does! Because if we thought about everything that might happen, we'd never do anything!"

Applejack forced herself to look up. "Rainbow, Fluttershy, we ain't got time for this. Y'can take it up later, when we --"

"No," Rainbow said, and the word hit the ground with the same force as her landing. "Now. Because now, you're gonna listen, Applejack. To me. For once, everypony's gonna listen to me. Because you're all being stupid, so bucking stupid that it hurts, and we're not moving until I get to make my speech for a change."

"Rainbow --"

"-- shut. up."

Applejack stared at the unblinking magenta eyes. Saw the flared wings and legs, snorting nostrils and lashing tail, the stance set to charge, the heart-pounding, brain-fogging instinct to fight somehow being directed into the verbal...

...she shut up.

"Celestia's sunny butt, when did all of you turn into Twilight?" Rainbow furiously blasphemed. "We've all seen her in fights! Sometimes, you can just about watch the words going through her head. 'There's a dozen changelings charging me and I only know a hundred spells, so I'll just stand here and try to sort out exactly which one is the best for this precise situation, right up until they knock me over because I spent all the time I had to do something in thinking!' There are times when you can't think, when you shouldn't because it's the worst thing you could do! You don't get it. None of you do."

Her tail was lashing harder now. Hooves were scraping at the fouled soil.

"What if when we blast the Nightmare, it doesn't get wiped out, but just goes off and finds another host? Gee, guess we'd better just leave it where it is: we don't know if that's even possible, but we can use two or three years of darkness to do the research!" A head shake, hard enough to blur colors in the prismatic mane. "Can't chase the dragon off the mountain because we don't know where it'll go next. Can't get Rarity out of the Dogs' warren because they might decide to grab six more ponies to replace her, so might as well let them keep her! Can't put Discord back in stone because maybe there's something out there besides Pinkie which needs chocolate milk to live, can't knock the changelings out of Canterlot because where else are they gonna find love, and can't free the Empire because what if there's some stupid geese? There's always consequences! There's always stuff you didn't see coming! And if you're looking at the future, you don't see anything now! You don't act! You just --"

Her eyes briefly closed. Feathers settled back against her sides. Her tail began to slow.

"-- you don't do anything," she breathed, a too-fast series of harsh, hard pants. "Because you were thinking. And if you get a chance to do something good... or if somepony's trying to hurt you... and you think... You have to be in the now. You have to be selfish. You don't think about the pony charging you maybe having a family: you just kick him, because you have to be selfish enough to say your life's more important than his. You don't think about new hosts and relocations and consequences because the ponies who might suffer later aren't here now, and the lives around you right now... they're more important. They have to be. Maybe sometimes, when you can plan, when you've got warning... maybe then, there's time to think. But in the middle of it... when it's them or you... you have to choose you. You have to choose now. Or... there won't be anypony left to tell you about how you screwed it up..."

And now the tail was drooping as the eyelids closed again. Both stayed that way.

"So..." Quietly now. "...it was us. When the Empire came back, we freed the geese. We caused it. We didn't mean to. But I'd do it a thousand times, because the crystals are more important than some dumb birds. I'd do it without thinking about it. Everypony's just thinking too much..."

Dead stop. Completely motionless. A state Rainbow never existed in of her own accord. And finally, Applejack found the strength to speak again. "...Rainbow?"

"It's... our responsibility, maybe," Rainbow softly said. "But it's not our fault. Not for stuff like blame. Doesn't anypony get that...?"

Is this how she thinks? Or don't think? All the time?

Applejack stared at the sleek head and for the first time, found herself truly wondering what sort of things were happening within.

"Ah... Ah can understand how y'see it," she heavily said. "But that ain't how everypony else is gonna see it, 'specially not the ones in town. They've been through too much, Rainbow. They see stuff happenin', an' all they know is that some of it's got somethin' t' do with us. Happens so much, they jus' start t' blame for jus' 'bout anythin' that comes along, no matter what might have started it, unless they know it's -- well..."

Ah shouldn't have t' --

Rarity softly sighed. "Siblings, yes, and even then, I suspect we both take a share of the blame because others see us as having failed to herd them, and the same would apply to Scootaloo's parents if anypony had ever found them at home when their hooves pounded on that door. But rather often, it does turn out to be us. Not always as initiators. We respond, and so we are associated with the events. But, sadly, on what is something more than rare occasion..."

"So what are we supposed to do?" It was seldom reassuring, hearing that level of quiet resignation from Pinkie. "Just -- stop? Because everything we could do just means more to do later, and sooner or later, it might turn into something nopony can do at all?"

"No."

And they all looked at Spike.

He quietly regarded them from his position on Fluttershy's back, eyes placid, nictitating membranes well out of sight. "Because... if that's the kind of ponies you were, nopony here would have an Element at all. Things have to be done. And you guys do them. You do what needs to happen, and if anything shows up after because of it... that's just one more thing to do. Rainbow's right. The crystal ponies are worth some geese. Luna is worth watching for the next Nightmare, if that's even possible. All of you, and Twilight... are worth all of it. You acted, when nopony else did... and if you hadn't, where are we now?"

"...alone," Fluttershy quietly replied. "...in the dark."

The words washed over them, soaked in past foul and fur and skin, sank within.

"Spike?" He looked at Rarity. "It was a worthwhile speech. And yours as well, Rainbow. But with Spike's -- I apologize, dear, but you made a small error, and I will not allow it to stand."

"...what?" the little dragon eventually asked.

"You said 'you guys do them.' And with your choice of phrasing, you excluded yourself. Please stop that. It is not only inaccurate, it is rather annoying. So -- unless anypony else has a lecture they wish to launch at this time?"


"Are we --"

"-- no, Pinkie, we ain't there yet. But Ah think it's just a little ways now. Ain't y'never been out here before? Ah thought you'd explored just 'bout everywhere in the whole settled zone."

"He celebrates his birthdays at the restaurant, which keeps the attendance down a lot because everypony's afraid he'll cater for himself, and... well, I've been out here, but not since way before he moved in. It's... you know. The shed."

"He stores my sleigh for me, Pinkie," Rarity said. With a sigh, "Or he did while I still had one. It really isn't that much further. And the shed isn't so bad, as long as he hasn't been too -- active. And one takes care to hold one's breath. For a very long time."

"So y'came out here t' pick it up?"

"When the Weather Bureau scheduled snow around Hearth's Warming Eve, yes."

"You've been near the shed, then?"

"A few times."

"An' you're alive?"

With faint annoyance, "Rather obviously. Come, Applejack, both our sisters were inside that shed this past summer, and they also both came out."

"Yeah, but that's them. Survivin' their own disasters -- well, they've kinda proven there ain't no mark for that 'cause if there was, the stupid Crusade would've had a triple manifest in Week One."

That produced a nod. "At the moment, I'm rather more concerned about the geese getting in. From what you and Fluttershy said, we already know they are capable of battering their way into a greenhouse. Mr. Flankington uses actual glass, and the thickest I've seen on such a structure: that may have kept our goal safe. But the shed has only standard anti-Crusader protection -- well, now it does -- and such purchased spells are not set up to stop birds. Let us hope there were just enough fumes to keep them away. We do not need a biohazard team in the middle of this mess. Again."

Applejack winced. "One disaster at a time, okay? But... y'have been out there, so... maybe y'know. This stuff he does, with the mixin' an' testin' an' everythin' that comes outta there when it shouldn't, which he keeps sayin' is his mark..."

Rarity waited.

"...Rarity -- what's 'food chemistry'?"

"I have no idea. And the more he tried to explain it to me, the less I understood --" ears which were just now only partially white (with the other, acquired colors best not asked about) twisted. "-- I hear geese."

Everypony focused.

"...I do too," Fluttershy agreed. "...I've been wondering where they all were... you can tell they were here, the ground says so, but they didn't stay long. I was wondering if something scared them off..." Her eyes widened. "...or attracted them... Rainbow, what was the wind set up for last night? And this morning?"

Rainbow frowned with concentration. "We're right up against the fringe, Fluttershy: this is where the Everfree's currents cross sometimes and mess everything up, you know that: the cottage has the same problem."

"I hear," Spike slowly said, "a lot of geese."

Rainbow missed it. "But if nothing messed up the weave, then... well, since last summer, we usually try to keep things going out into the wild zone, just in case something happens at the shed. But we can't keep that up all the time. Last night would have been a few light gusts outwards, but since this morning, you'd get..." She paused, hovered, focused. "...actually, we're downwind right now. There just isn't any active current."

"...but there would have been earlier?" Fluttershy asked.

"I think so. That's definitely the way the weave's been set, so if nothing broke in and anything moved at all, it came this way. Why?"

"I hear," Pinkie breathed, "a flock of geese..."

They all looked at each other.

Those on the ground broke into a gallop at the same moment. Those in the air dodged the hoof-flung results.


As they'd hoped for, there weren't any geese around the shed -- technically. Oh, there were a few who were rather close to it, and all of those were fighting to get away from it and closer to the center of -- Applejack didn't want to look at that again just yet. The point was that the oft-rebuilt shed, with its vials and beakers and ongoing crimes against gastronomy, chemistry, and occasionally thaumaturgy, had pretty much been left alone, and that gave everypony one less thing to worry about.

The greenhouse was also intact, although that part wasn't for lack of trying. Mr. Flankington did have the thickest glass in the settled zone, with several factors contributing to that level of defense: an unusual level of need for sunlight concentration, a perpetual and not quite unsubstantiated worry that somepony might one day choose to take out the production at the source, and those days where the ingredients grown within didn't wait until they reached the shed and just went horribly wrong on their own. And so the glass: thickened, reinforced, and enchanted with everything he'd been able to pay for plus two highly experimental spells which nopony else had been willing to let Twilight try out on their property. Nopony had been able to get through any of it.

No goose had, either.

But several hundred of them were still making the attempt.

Applejack swallowed.

"Well..." she softly considered, "there's a little good news."

"What's that, Applejack?" Pinkie honestly wanted to know.

"They ain't lookin' at us."

Every beady black eye was focused on the glass. On what was behind it. Or, at the moment just before repeated impact, at what was keeping them from it.

The sounds of bodies crashing against glass were sickening. They were also frequent.

"They're ramming it!" Rainbow's exclamation point was mostly implied: nopony wanted to make too much noise, just in case it got avian attention. "It's like the changelings all over again!"

"...it's the smell," Fluttershy moaned. "...all they can think about is getting to the food..."

"How is the smell even getting out?" Spike wondered. "That's glass..."

Rarity's horn ignited: several portions of the greenhouse walls momentarily glowed with soft blue. "There and there, Spike. Hidden vents. The plants within cannot be left in a completely sealed environment: they would eventually suffocate in their own oxygen. So portions of the walls are designed to -- leak, at least for airflow. There is probably something else present to hold the heat inside, although I am not sure exactly what. But if any air gets out and no appropriate enchantment stops it -- a working Mr. Flankington has never had a need for -- it carries scent with it. They know it is there, they know they are blocked from it -- and they do not appear to be hurting themselves enough to considering stopping..."

"...they won't stop until it breaks," Fluttershy breathed. "Or they do..."

"They don't even know we're here, do they?" Applejack asked.

"...they might," Fluttershy said. "Not consciously, though. We just don't matter right now. Not unless we become a threat to their food."

"...right," Applejack eventually said. "Um... anypony got a count? Ah'd kinda like t' know jus' what we're up against here..."

"I don't know!" a frustrated Rainbow declared. "They all keep moving around!" She glared at a slightly concussed-looking, staggering specimen. "Would you just hold still for a second? I think I counted you twice!"

"The number," Rarity said with an openly forced calm, "is too many. We cannot force or fight our way through that group without becoming overwhelmed."

"I could crash into it myself," Rainbow considered. "Break in through the roof, swoop for the grass --"

"-- an' assumin' y'didn't knock yerself out tryin', you'd be tryin' t' get the whole section harvested before all the geese followed y'in, Rainbow. That ain't somethin' y'can do in ten seconds flat neither."

"We could go back to town!" Pinkie considered. "If Mr. Flankington has any left, we could use that to lure them off! Rainbow could take the sack and --"

"-- an' what, Pinkie? Rainbow can't go full speed if'fin she's doin' that: gotta stay just far enough ahead of the geese t' make 'em think they've got a chance. Too far, they peel off an' come back here: too close an' she gets overwhelmed. Besides, think 'bout how little he had. He's gotta be out of stock by now. An' even if we found somethin' else they wanted, it's the same problem."

"Well," Rarity heavily said, "I cannot of course speak for anypony else here, but I? Am currently rather open to suggestions..."

The debate broke out behind Applejack, who was slightly in front of the pack, staring at what little she could see of the greenhouse through the flurry of furious feathers. There were moments when she had glimpses of the interior, extremely brief ones -- but in other circumstances, with one other pony present, that might have been just enough.

Twi, camped out at the front. Watchin' everythin', trying for every sight line she can get, learnin' what the inside is like. An' once she's got it all down, got it t' where she's feelin' a little confidence, all she needs is one second t' teleport. Harvests the grass, completely safe. Geese see her, get mad enough t' finally break in or the glass jus' gives out at the wrong second, she gets out the same way. If Twi were here...

She wasn't used to teleportation, not really, and she'd done everything she could think of since meeting the librarian to keep it from being used on her. But she was starting to understand some of the tactical advantages -- at the exact moment when they were no longer available.

No Twi. That was mah decision. Gotta live with it. Jus' find another way in.

She found herself glancing at Rarity, who didn't notice: the designer was in the middle of a heated debate with Rainbow and Spike about the risk of using fire. The designer was intelligent in some ways, had a surprising (and sometimes surprisingly low) cunning about her... but she wasn't a substitute for Twilight. She couldn't learn to teleport in five minutes, or five hours. Possibly ever. She had been given the thaumaturgical keys to the greenhouse, and could get them inside once (if) the geese had been cleared out. That was all.

Can't fight: too many, even if we go in lookin' t' kill. Can't distract: nothin' t' do it with. Lightnin'... She looked up, and caught Rainbow doing the same. ...mostly sunny right now. If it don't scare 'em all off in one shot, there's not enough clouds, an' Rarity used up some of the ones we did have. Fire: too much 'round here that could go up: all we need is for a flamin' goose to hit the shed and then we're gonna need a lot more than Canterlot t' help clean up. What's left?

She considered her own magic, discarded it: there was no way to do it subtly. Thought about what Rarity could potentially bring to bear and dismissed that as well: the unicorn's field wouldn't go through a solid object and even if she could somehow start the harvesting process by remote, the grass had to come out eventually. Pinkie... well, streamers weren't enough of a distraction. Rainbow could get a whirlwind going, but it would take a lot more wind speed for the heavy goose bodies than it had for the parasprites, and she suspected Mr. Flankington was expecting to find his house right where he'd left it. Spike, currently back on his own hind claws and arguing about something with Pinkie, was definitely out of the trough...

...could she?

No, that's the wrong question. Ah know she can. It's 'Will she?'

Ah'm... in charge.

Ah shouldn't have t' --

Slowly, she approached, picking her hoofsteps carefully, more for avoiding sound than mess: there was very little of her left which could still be fouled. A gentle hoof poke got the attention she needed, and she peeled one pony away from the debate without any of the others noticing, especially since that one had yet to find anything she could say.

"...what's going on, Applejack? Did you think of something?"

"Yeah. But... Ah hate t' ask, but... it's you, Fluttershy. It's gotta be you. You've gotta clear us a path."

"But..." Wings helplessly spread. "...they don't listen. I could try... an order, but I don't know if that works with someone I don't really know. Or at all. And even if it did, I don't know how many I could... order at once..."

"Naw. Not that."

"...then -- what?"

"How many do y'think y'could Stare?"

Fluttershy blinked.

"...how many?"

"One right after the other."

"...I... Applejack, I've never... not groups... it's one on one, direct eye contact, and there's hundreds..."

"Not askin' you t' try takin' 'em all in one shot, Fluttershy. Ah'm thinkin' -- fear. We saw that back at Mr. Flankington's. Fightin', they know. Fightin', they see one get hurt an' the rest jus' close in all the more. But when somethin' is hittin' 'em which they can't see, can't understand... they back off, 'cause they don't know what's goin' on, can't figure it out, can't think. Jus' that it's somethin' bad an' it could happen t' them too. Ah think... if y'get enough of 'em, from a distance, so the others can't see you're the source, pick off a few here an' there... the rest might get scared enough t' leave." She took a deep breath, qualified all of it. "Ah'm hopin'. So -- can you?"

"...Applejack... I've never... I don't know if I can..."

She gently pressed her flank against the filthy wing. "Y'know, you say that a lot."

"...I know."

"An' then y'know what always happens after?" Those huge eyes, so very wide with fear, were looking directly at her... "Y'go an' do it anyway. Every time. Ah believe in you, Fluttershy. Go an' show everypony why."

The caretaker swallowed.

"...I..."

"Please?"

Several shuddering breaths shifted the dirty coat.

"...okay..."

Fluttershy advanced, trotting forward. Not much: just enough to get in front of Applejack. Clearing the line of sight.

"D'you need t' get closer? Is there a range?"

"...I don't know. Applejack, I'm sorry for asking this, I really am, but... please be quiet. They're making enough noise up ahead and I've never tried to do it like this, I have to be ready for the moment any of them turn their head this way, even for less than a second. I need to concentrate..."

Applejack went silent. Fluttershy tried another hoofstep. The mane was shaken, all of the pink fall going behind the shapely head. Both eyes fully exposed.

Seconds passed.

A goose dropped.

It had been battering the glass. It had been fighting with all the other geese in order to win a little more space to attack the greenhouse in. It had staggered back to get the room for another charge, its head had turned, for less than a second...

...it hadn't been a hiss or a honk. It had been much closer to a bleat. Something brought out by fear. And with less ceremony than Rarity would ever consider bringing to the occasion, it had fainted dead away.

Several other geese heard the body hit the ground. They turned. They stared at it. And they backed away -- but not enough, and after a moment, they resumed their attack on the glass.

Okay. She couldn't bring herself to say it aloud. So maybe it could work. Jus' need t' bump the numbers up. Come on, Fluttershy, it's all you...

The caretaker was starting to move around the perimeter, and Applejack heard the others notice, the debate breaking off as they watched the circling. "Applejack, whatever is she --"

"Shh!" The whisper was as fierce as she could make it without adding risky decibels. "No distractions, Rarity! Jus' let her work!"

Another goose dropped: more noticed, went back to the assault. Then another -- and two flew away.

It's happenin'... she's doin' it...

A fourth went down. And now the flock was starting to notice. Fluttershy was moving quickly, not letting the rest focus on her -- and they weren't smart enough to look. Something was rendering them unconscious, something they couldn't see or hear, much less feel, and that meant they couldn't fight. They were becoming scared...

Another. Another. Honks of panic. More flying away, and more, still more falling to filthy ground as Applejack watched --

-- the claws did not scratch her. They never did: a lifetime of experience in maneuvering a reptilian body around softer pony forms. But for the first time, she felt as if the little dragon had just barely held himself back from it.

"Stop her."

And there was another first riding along in those words.

Spike had just given her an order.

So she did the natural thing. She ignored it. "Ain't gonna. Don't care what y'jus' came up with, Spike, this is workin'. Look at 'em -- that had t' be twelve goin' off at once! They're scared! We're winnin'! Every time one drops, more an' more leave, that was twenty right there...!"

"Look at them?" And the next words were almost a roar. "LOOK AT HER!"

Involuntarily, Applejack looked --

-- sweat laced through the yellow coat. Froth. Knees shaking with every hoofstep. Head barely held aloft. Partially-unfurled wings trembling, joints loose against the body because their bearer no longer had the strength to keep them folded.

"Ah -- aw, no, Spike, Ah didn't --"

"Shut up! STOP HER!"

She galloped. And she let her words go ahead of her, not caring about the geese, not caring about anything but the white foam spreading across stained yellow coat. "Fluttershy! Stop! You've gotta stop, right now! Y'have t' --"

But it wasn't enough.

"...I..." Just barely audible, the words taking what was nearly the last strength she had to give. "I can..."

"Please, please listen t' me! You've gotta --"

"...you need me..."

The last bit of strength was freely given.

Another goose dropped.

So did Fluttershy.