The world below was huge. For Stinkbug, who had spent his entire life in a hive, the world was mind-bogglingly ginormous. He clutched his comatose companion, not knowing what to do with her, and he found it more and more difficult to think. He had to conserve what energy he had left and his makeshift snot bubble balloon was at the mercy of the wind.
There was a city below him—what had Celaeno called it? Dodge something-or-other. He had trouble remembering anything. There was desert to the south and greenery to the north. They passed through a bank of clouds and for a time, Stinkbug was flying blind, unable to see anything at all. When they emerged from the clouds, he tried to get his bearings, but was unable to do so. The wind was strong up here, maybe even too strong, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.
The wind shifted without warning, as wind was wont to do, and Stinkbug’s makeshift balloon was now being blown in a different direction. He gave his companion a squeeze, he was worried about her, but there wasn’t much he could do for her, other than hope that she would be okay. He wasn’t a healing drone.
Worst of all, making the balloon had done something to him. He could feel his mind going. He was losing himself. Without strong emotion, raw, sweet, primal emotion, he was wasting away into nothingness. Soon, he would lose himself, his sense of self would be gone, his mind would be lost, and not long after that, he would die.
If he died, there would be no one to take care of Celaeno in her current state. It made him feel sad, it robbed him of hope, but he was becoming far too stupid to be philosophical about it. His mind was dying. Of course, given Celaeno’s current state, she might be dying as well. The thought of two dead corpses flying on a hot air balloon made of changeling snot might have been funny in a black sort of way, but he didn’t have the presence of mind to be able to laugh about it.
Off in the distance, the soft, white, pale and fluffy clouds became a dark, angry grey. Lightning crackled and the distant rumble of thunder could be heard. Stinkbug had never seen a thunderstorm before, and he had trouble recalling his collective memories. Still, he knew that the storm represented a great danger to both him and Celaeno. They were being sucked right towards it and there didn’t seem to be much that Stinkbug could do about it.
They picked up speed as they were tugged towards the swirling vortex ahead and with what little intelligence that Stinkbug had left, he wondered if this was going to be the end of them both. Panicked, he punctured the snot bubble balloon and allowed the hot air inside to escape in a slow, steady trickle, so they could at least face this storm on the ground.
The remains of the snot bubble made for a decent tent. It had snagged on a branch and with a little work, Stinkbug had made a simple A-frame tent, which he now cowered inside while the storm raged. He held Celaeno close, she was wet, unresponsive, and he had tried to scrub some of the blood off of her. Of course, had Stinkbug been a little smarter, he might have worried about the tree being struck by lightning, but the little changeling drone had never experienced the outside world before.
The storm raged overhead, rain came down in sideways sheets, and lightning illuminated the sky, turning it as green as bottle glass. The bug and the harpy, taking refuge in the crude tent, were spared the worst of the storm, but were still wet. The ground was sodden and turned to mud.
After a terrific clap of thunder, Celeano awoke. She couldn’t move much, or even say much, but she was awake. One eye was swollen shut and the other eye could hardly open. She clung to Stinkbug, and he had his forelegs wrapped around her torso. She shivered against him—Stinkbug had no warm, fuzzy pelt to snuggle against, only smooth chitin. There was little he could do to comfort her, other than continue to hold her as they waited out the storm together.
“What have we here?”
The voice was gruff and a bit growly. Stinkbug was unaware that he had fallen asleep. He was terrified as he clutched his friend and companion. She was passed out again and she was still bleeding. He didn’t know what to do as his snot bubble balloon tent was being tugged on by something.
“Now here is something you don’t see everyday.”
Looking up, Stinkbug bared his teeth at the stranger, his dangerous hypodermic fangs. He let out a hiss as a warning, and somehow, he knew that he was looking at something called a diamond dog. He had never seen one before.
“I mean no harm,” the diamond dog said in a low voice. “My name is Hachikō. I caught a whiff of you quite some ways away and I had to come and find out what smelled so terrible. My curiousity has been rewarded.” The diamond dog bowed his head and then kneeled down.
Reaching out a paw, he placed it upon Celeano and stroked her feathers. He then looked right at Stinkbug, meeting his gaze. Stinkbug, who didn’t know what to do, looked at the diamond dog, but didn’t hiss and he closed his mouth.
“She needs to be stitched up. That’s a wound that will not close on its own.”
“You help friend?” Stinkbug asked.
“Yes, I will help your friend. I give you my word.”
“I use spit to close wound. Rain wash it off. Spit no work in wet.” Stinkbug cursed his stupidity and wished that he had a mind link with the diamond dog. There wasn’t much he could do. Even talking was labourious at this point. He was also out of spit, which didn’t help the situation. For all he knew, he was dying.
“Yam, where are you?”
Turning his head, Stinkbug looked around when he heard the sounds of movement. Gravel crunched. He felt the faint touch of emotions on the edge of his perception, but he was so weak that his range of perception had shrunk.
“Yam has probably gone off to look at something with his companion, Serape.” Hachikō stood up, lifting Celaeno as he did so, cradling her in one well muscled arm. Looking down, he asked, “Do you need some help, friend?”
“Stinkbug.”
“A very apt name,” Hachikō replied as he helped Stinkbug stand up.
He felt a rush of emotions, he felt love as two equines drew near. No, one was an equine, the other was equine too, but spicy. He felt some of his strength returning, but he had a long way to go before he was whole of mind and body again.
“Yam Spade and his companion, a donkey named Azure Serape are some of—”
“I’m a burro!” a voice said in a thick accent.
“Yes, a burro, I am sorry.” Hachikō bowed his head. “Yam Spade and his burro companion, Azure Serape, are some of the nicest folk you will ever meet. They are honourable and good.”
“A changeling. Is he the source of the stink?” A bright orange earth pony stood a fair distance away, unmoving, and he came no closer. Beside him, a grey-blue burro mare with a tremendous amount of goods strapped to her back stood staring.
“I thought you ponies were at war with the changelings,” the burro said.
“We are,” Yam replied, “but look at him. He doesn’t look dangerous at all.”
“No hurt,” Stinkbug said in a halting voice, “outcast. Thrown out.”
“Hmm.” Hachikō examined the wound on the harpy’s goat-like head, his eyes narrowed with concern. The big dog was gentle, kind, and attentive. After having a look, he sat down on a nearby log, held Celeano with one arm, and began to rummage through his supplies so he could fix her up.
There was love here—Stinkbug could feel it. There was the love of friendship, but there was also passionate love between the burro and the pony. He could feel it revitalising him, giving him strength, and he could feel his mind beginning to mend.
“Wow, what a stink,” the burro said as she took a step backwards. “Whew!”
“Smells worse than an Appleloosan outhouse after taco Tuesday,” Yam said in a low, slow drawl. “I honestly can’t remember a time in my life where I’ve smelled something worse. The only thing that comes close was when I returned home after a case after being away for months and opened the fridge. That was quite a stink. All that old takeout food had turned.”
The burro, looking disgusted, took a step away from Yam. “Slob.”
“The bigger mystery here is, why is there a harpy in central Equestria?” Yam blinked his eyes, which were watering, and looked over in Hachikō’s direction. After looking over at the diamond dog and the harpy for a few moments, he returned his attention to Stinkbug.
“She not enemy. She friend. Me not dumb, me was starving.”
One of Yam’s eyebrows rose. “No love for the Sultan of Stench, eh?”
Stinkbug didn’t have the brainpower to have a sense of humour, but Azure Serape brayed with laughter. Yam chuckled at his own joke, but then became serious. He glanced at his companion, who quieted down, and then looked at Stinkbug once more.
“Two of Equestria’s greatest enemies travelling together. Makes a pony wonder what this world is coming to. I’ve been a detective for quite a while now, and I’ve seen some strange stuff, but this takes the cake. Good grief, you stink.”
“Yes.” Stinkbug agreed with a nod.
“Hey, Yam, I think we’ll need some help,” Hachikō said to the bright orange pony. “The skin is very thin. I don’t think my big fingers will do a good job of stitching things together. Do you think you could go and get those two rangers we met a while back? If you run, you might be able to catch up.”
The pony nodded, his head bobbing up and down. “Yeah, I can go and find them. I can find anything.” He smiled at Stinkbug and winked. “That’s what I do.” He turned to the burro not far away from him, stepped closer, and kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, my spicy little chili pepper… you look after our new friends, okay?”
“You stay safe, Yam… it’s dangerous out here near the Froggy Bottom Bogg.”
Stinkbug felt another emotion—worry, mixed with fear.
“If something wants to eat me, it has to catch me.” Yam grinned, smooched the burro again, and then took off at a run, his tail streaming out behind him.
It seemed that Stinkbug’s fortune had changed. He now found himself among friends, those willing to help. He was also near a source of food. There was a steady trickle of positive emotion coming off of the burro. Spicy emotion. It was just what Stinkbug needed to help him recover. Already he was feeling just a smidge better.
Stinkbug now felt a distinct new emotion since leaving the hive. Hope.