I look at Twilight. “Hey, is that any way to treat our host, Twilight? I thought you were a nice pony!”
Twilight just covers her face with, well me, and screams in what can only be abject terror.
Granny Pie rolls her eyes, of which she now has dozens. “Pfft, I haven’t done any good Boojum work in decades, weeks even.” I look over at her, and see that she’s now a giant insect of some kind, and petting the cat from earlier.
“Come on Twilight, what were you expecting? A Snark?”
“Technically, dear, I am a snark.” Granny Pie points out.
Huh, as I recall, Boojum pretended to be Snarks... huh, oh well. “That doesn’t matter. Come on Twi, you’re a grown mare, stop acting like that, just be glad you haven’t insulted Granny Pie.” I peel Twilight off of me and drop her onto the floor, making sure she at least lands on her feet. “And watch out for the egg timers, you wouldn’t want to ruin their reunion either, would you?”
Twilight just sort of gibbers incoherently, and Cadence rolls her eyes, levitating Twilight into one of the plush chairs.
“Actually,” Granny Pie states, “I am rather insulted, but pay that no mind, you’ve only got one and none to share.” I’m not sure if I’m insulted by that or not. Technically I do have just one mind.
Cadence just laughs. “Oh, I forgot how fun it is speaking in Wunderland. Oh, Mrs. Pie, if you-”
Granny Pie holds up a hoof, looking like an alicorn as well, but of some madness or another. “Now now, ‘mrs.’ is my godmother’s name. I’m Preamble Pie, if you’re going by first names.”
Cadence seems to have lost her train of thought. I feel compelled to offer to help her find it... she’s right, Wunderland is awesome! I look over at Twilight. I feel like she might be a bit over her head here. She’s having a bit of trouble transitioning, which means I can say just about anything now.
Twilight twitches violently, then relaxes. “I am most sorry for being so rude to you, madam, and I hope that you might forgive me.”
Granny Pie scoffs. “Well, it’s better than nothing, I suppose.” A loud ding echoes from the kitchen, and Granny Pie stands up, turning into a vaguely anthropomorphic giraffe in the process. She steps quickly to the kitchen, and comes back with the casserole dish from earlier, the top covered with foil, but steaming slightly.
“Ah, here we are! I’m afraid you haven’t said much, Cadence, so your serving’s a little light, but it should be good anyways.”
Cadence titters. “Don’t worry, I’m on a diet. A light meal is better for me anyways.”
Granny Pie nods, scooping something from the casserole dish, and pours directly onto Cadence... some light? A rainbow burst of color flows like a liquid towards Cadence before splitting off in every direction. Oh, a ‘light meal’. Cadence looks a little disappointed, as well.
“I’m not sure how much I’m going to get, I’ve been rather talkative. I’d hate to be given too much.” I say, starting to catch on.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Granny Pie says, handing me a bowl and spooning out a... pile of letters? My other guess was right, I was about to literally eat my own words. Hah, called it! Shrugging, I take a spoonful and it is pulled up in sentences, acting like noodles, even though the letters aren’t connected. It’s like alphabet ramen! I take a spoonful of the stuff and put it in my mouth, wondering what it would taste like.
I nearly can’t tell I’ve eaten it, and it’s really kind of bland. Every now and then, there’s something that tastes good, but it’s not as tasty as I’d thought sometimes.
Twilight begins gibbering again, while Pinkie is handed a small plate, with a donut on it, her two sentences on the top in icing. I have the strong feeling she was gaming me for everything I got.
Finally, after everyone had eaten, Twilight not liking hers for how hot it was, Granny Pie handed out dessert. It was a bunch of words, bunched up and sort of like cookies.
The first one I picked up said, ‘THERE’S NO REASON TO WORRY, I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING’. Huh. I feel like I should expect the next one to say ‘HOLD MY BEER AND WATCH THIS’ but that’s just a guess.
I look down at the plate, and see Twilight pick up exactly the one I was expecting. Well, now, this should be interesting. I take a bit of my own cookie, finding it quite palatable and easy to swallow. I take another bite, not knowing whether I should expect the same or different. Both were just as likely. How it happens is that it’s just as tasty and easy to down as the first bite, if not easier.
I glance over and see Cadence politely refusing the dish, and I get a good look at the dish from a different angle than before, revealing that the dish full of word-cookies is only half there, many of the cookies sticking off into empty space, some only hanging in there by chance or a well-hooked J or C.
Granny Pie looks at me. “It’s pretty good, right? Such lovely notions, too bad they’re only half-done. Still, I only had enough for a half bakery, so no full ideas.” Oh god, I just swallowed a half-baked idea.
But then, so did Twilight. Hah, this should be interesting. “So Twilight,” I ask. “What’s on your mind... figuratively?” Yeah, I think I know how to get this to work out right.
“Well, I’ve got something, but it’d be easier to show you than tell you.” Twilight levitates her plate towards me. “Here, hold my food, and watch this.”
I grin widely and take it. This will be awesome!
Twilight stands on the edge of the table, and Cadence looks up, worry on her face. Twilight, through sheer dint of skill, balances herself wobbily on one hoof, determination on her face as she begins charging a spell. Then, she falls over, and would have cracked her head open if Cadence hadn’t caught her.
Ha, half-baked indeed. I am never going to let Twi live this down. I’m just laughing and I finish off my cookie. I know what I’m doing, no reason for me to worry.
Chuckles aside, though, we all relax on the couches, and the cat even comes over, and lays on my lap.
“Hello there.” I say to the cat. “Do you mind if I pet you?”
“I was rather counting on it, actually. Now would you get to work?” Definitely an actual cat, then.
“Very well then. I’m told I’m good with my fingers.” I begin petting the cat, and turn to Twilight. “So, how are you enjoying Wunderland, Twi?”
“I think I had an aneurysm, but that’s not important.” Twilight’s mane spontaneously wigs out, strands springing in every direction. “Once we actually leave tomorrow morning, I can start researching everything. Oh, it’s going to be so much fun!”
“Research is fine, but don’t forget to experience things as well.”
“How could I forget? You need to experience the paperwork to make it work! It makes sense, because we’re in Wunderland!” I think Twilight broke. Crap. Oh well, I’ll try and fix her, but first I might need to find the pieces.
I turn to Cadence. “You know we’ve already eaten, you don’t have to stay quiet.”
Cadence shrugs. “I’m not that talkative, really. Just when there’s something I want to talk about.” I look over, and see that there’s a big bite taken out of a cookie labeled, ‘IT’S PROBABLY BETTER TO SAY NOTHING AT ALL’.
I check to see what sort of cookie Pinkie got. She’s gnawing gently on one that says, ‘SILENCE IS GOLDEN. DUCT TAPE IS SILVER. I HAVE ONE AND CAN MAKE THE OTHER’. I’m not sure what to think about that. For the time being, I just decide to sit and pet the cat. Then something occurs to me. I can ask a question. “So what do cats think about all day?”
“Well, I suppose it depends on the cat. I, personally, imagine every way I can brutally murder my owner.” The cat pauses for a moment. “After num-nums, of course.” Yup, that sounds like a cat all right. I sigh and return to my petting, wondering what will happen next.
After an hour of conversation, both confusion and not, we’re finally too tired to go anywhere, and end up passing out on the chairs, Twilight being the only one who protested. Seems she’s still afraid of the Boojum that is Pinkie’s grandma. I can’t imagine someone feeling skeptical after they just got free food. I feel like I need to help Twilight adjust... tomorrow... maybe.
I wake up and I see I’m still in the chair, though my current surroundings aren’t granted to be the same as when I fell asleep, this being Wunderland, so once I rub the sleep from my eyes I take a look around and I see that the room is... gone. In fact, I’m rather alone now, sitting in a very comfy chair in the midst of a jungle with bright, cheerfully colored plants.
I don’t trust any of them.
A tall, tall tree with blue bark and blue vines is the most vivid piece of color, but there’s a small bed of flowers nearby, all of them a tall as my waist. There’s all sorts of bushes, plants, and other things leaving me with no obvious way out of the clearing.
I don’t really have much to do. I’m lost and I don’t want to just wander off. Who knows what will happen? So I call out for Pinkie, Twilight and Cadence, hoping they are somewhere nearby.
A gentle chirping, something moving in the jungle, and various animal noises are all that answers me. A quiet tittering sound, almost exactly what I’d imagine fancy noble-ladies ‘politely’ laughing at someone would sound like, comes from the clearing. Not really knowing what to expect, I just decide to check it out. After a few moments of walking, I realize the sound isn’t changing in volume. Then I realize it’s the flowers around me. Sure, laughing flowers, because why the fuck not?
“What’s so funny?” The ‘polite’ tittering only gets more prevalent, and I look at the bed of waist-high flowers. It looks like they’re all looking inwards, towards... something, I’m not sure. I try to crane my neck to see what they’re ‘looking’ at.
Leaning over the flowers causes them to notice me, gasping and leaning away from me as I loom over them. In their midst is... Twilight. She’s about an inch and a half tall, and has a couple of bleeding cuts on her. She also looks terrified.
Very very carefully I pick her up. I’m not sure how the shrinking affected her hearing, so I decide I’d whisper. Geez, she is really tiny! “Twilight, what happened? Well, aside from the obvious answer ‘you shrunk’ that is.”
She moves her mouth, and gesticulates wildly, but I can’t hear a thing from her, even though she’s no more than four inches in front of me.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you. You are really tiny.” I whisper. I need to think of something. “Geez, I still wish I could shrink. Uh... here.” I try to hold her up to my ear, this is certainly becoming an interesting adventure.
As clear as if she was normal sized, I hear her talk into my ear, and I can feel her teeny hooves on my ear. “Why are you whispering, Anthony? I can hear you just fine! Also, we need to get away from those flowers, they attacked me! They said I was a rat...” She sounds really put out.
I stop whispering. “Well, pardon me, sorry for not knowing if the possibility of my voice at it’s normal volume could have shattered your now tiny eardrums. Guess I shouldn’t be so considerate in the future.” I snark as I wade my way through the flowers.
I can almost hear Twilight rolling her eyes. “Oh come on, Anthony, you can’t get ear damage from loud noises. That’s just ridiculous!”
I hold her up to my face, looking into her teeny little eyes. “Wanna prove that? I’m willing to bet at this point, me clapping or just yelling would hurt your ears. Again, it happens to humans.”
Twilight gives me a micro-sized look of incredulity. “Well, then maybe humans are more fragile than ponies! Because pegasi regularly deal with sonic booms and thunderclaps, and those would be louder, mathematically, than you clapping right now would be.”
“Yeah, you think our mortality rate would be so high if we were all super tough? We die from some really stupid things. We aren’t that amazing.”
“Well, then, take my word for it - the only thing that causes damage to eardrums is physical violence. It’s not like sound is a physical force or anything, it’s magical!”
I decide to explain the vibration of air molecules for later, instead I take another approach. “And we all know that magic can’t possibly be dangerous.”
“Only battlemagic and wild magics are dangerous, unless seriously mishandled!” Heh, her voice is so whispery like this.
“So anyway, we should probably find a way to get you back to normal, or heal your wounds. Not sure which is more pressing, honestly.”
I feel something tap me on the leg, gently. I look down and see that one of the flowers is trying to get my attention. It appears to be a poppy, and is only as tall as my knee. “Uhm, mister, why are you talking to a rat?” it asks.
“Because you never know what you could learn from a rat. I’m sure that they might have interesting things to talk about.” I completely avoid mentioning the fact that Twilight isn’t a rat, and this visibly annoys her.
The little flower looks thoughtful, but the larger ones titter again.
“So, why were you attacking her?”
The other flowers gasp, sounding offended. “We were just defending our roots! Everyone knows rats will hurt some poor flower if they get the chance.” I notice that most of the flowers are tall, dense roses, covered in very long thorns. That explains Twilight’s injuries...
“So I assume you have nothing to do with her size? She’s supposed to be much bigger.” I give Twilight a sideways glance. “Though not by too much.”
The flowers titter again, something that is starting to get very annoying. “Well, she was here, and that size when she showed up here. If she gets any fatter though, you’ll want to get a new rat.” The rose, with its face-shaped arrangement of petals, put its ‘nose’ in the air.
“Yeah, doesn’t get much exercise, this one, that happens when you spend all day reading.” I’m having a ton of fun at Twilight’s expense. “Anyway, you nice flowers wouldn’t happen to know how we could fix this, would you?”
The flowers all tittered again. The little poppy spoke up, however. “You could go see the caterpillar.” The other flowers immediately hushed the little one. Ah herbivores. Suddenly a lot more violent when the plants talk.
“Well, do you know where I could find the caterpillar?”
The flowers all shot angry-looking glares at the poppy. The largest rosebush, near the edge of the flower bed, harumphed. “If you want to go see that slovenly, gluttonous borrre, then simply follow the widderrrshins path until the forrrk in the road. Perrrhaps you could bathe your rrrat while you’re at it, the little vermin smells of fleas.” She was trying really hard to make her R-rolling to sound regal.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t doubt it, fur and all. Anyhow, I’m not terribly familiar with the area. If you could point me in the right direction, my rat and I will be on our way.”
The large rosebush pointed imperiously with a thorny, yet graceful leaf, by and large very different than the roses I’ve seen before... ever. Either way, the path was very clearly visible, now that it had been pointed out.
“It’s rrright beforrre the Chessboarrrd.” she snaps, before rotating in place, and sniffing imperiously. The rest of the flowers do the same, minus the nice little poppy.
“Okay, thank you. I will be on my way then.” I start walking but then a thought occurs to me. I need somewhere safe to put Twilight, so I drop her into my chest pocket earning a tiny “Hey!” before I couldn’t hear anything else from her.
I look down to make sure she’s physically alright, and see that she’s popped her little head out of the top of my pocket, using her forehooves to grip the edge of the pocket. I repress a chuckle that likely would’ve rattled her brains.
“So, you don’t remember anything? Well, what do you remember?” I ask as I walk along the path that the rose indicated.
“Well, we went to sleep last night, and then I woke up, really tiny! I had to run away from a cat with purple and blue stripes on it, and then I wandered into the flowerbed. They asked me what kind of flower I was! I’m not a flower, and I told them so. Then, they thought I was a rat! Really, a rat? Hmmph, I’m more in the shape and size for something like a mouse, not a rat!” Twilight kept talking, ranting about how unfair the comparison was, and that she’d been called fat as if it was an insult, something I was a little interested in. After all, I can’t tell what’s supposed to be ‘attractive’ as far as mares go, so I don’t know if slim or thick is more preferred. Other than that, there’s not much more to her speech than indignity.
“Cat with purple stripes, huh? Well, I suppose that could be a Cheshire Cat, though they do have a tendency to alter their shape and color. Anyhow, you say you were tiny before you met him, or you woke up tiny and it was there already?”
The tiny Twilight nodded her head. “I was tiny when I woke up. The cat was a little ways away from me.”
“Well, it seems you’ve been pranked by a Cheshire Cat. Welcome to Wunderland, where science is useless and pretty much everything wants to screw with you or kill you.”
Twilight scrunched down a little in my pocket.
“What’s wrong, Twi? Earlier, you were ecstatic about getting to come here. You didn’t read all those books and think ‘that won’t happen to me’ did you?”
Twilight shook her head. “My magic isn’t working. I didn’t know my magic wouldn’t work.”
“Well, since Wunderland is such a weird, reality-bending place, I expected magic to not work. Seriously, why would you think anything would act normal here?”
Twilight looked back up at me, her tiny head against my chest. “But the books never said anything about magic not working! There’s plenty of unicorns who’ve come through and it worked just fine for them!”
“Twilight, this is Wunderland! You want some advice? Fine, here it is. Fuck logic! There. That’s it. Just forget logic exists. Nothing here follows the rules for each other. What makes you think outsiders would be treated any different?”
“But- but the books-” Twilight looks utterly betrayed.
“Books aren’t perfect. One pers- pony’s experience may be different from another’s. That works octo-quintuple for Wunderland.”
I can barely hear Twilight sniffle. “But the books never lied before...”
“There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there. Let this be a lesson: not everything that gets written and published is absolute fact. Authors and scholars get stuff wrong. Don’t act like you’ve never screwed up.” I pause. “And if you do, I can offer a few examples.”
Twilight just slid into my pocket, hiding from the world. I sigh. She is far too trusting of those books. I mean, I love books too, granted not to the same extent. But I still don’t believe everything.
“Books shouldn’t be used for absolute facts, merely guidelines. There’s always going to be times where something happens and something you read doesn’t apply. Just because someone says something and it gets into a book doesn’t mean it should be followed blindly. Too much trust ends up with you shrunk and attacked by flowers.”
There’s no response from my pocket. I look up and I notice the fork in the road. I think about how I’d go about contacting the caterpillar. Where would I find him?
While I’m thinking, I notice a puff of silver fur in the edge of my vision, and I look up to see that there’s a large, happy-looking cat with royal purple and silver stripes in its coat. The cat is smiling at me. Wait, not stripes, it’s a spiral of silver and purple staring at its nose and whirling back towards the tip of its tail.
“Ah, hello there. I suppose you have some trick or such planned for me to use for your amusement?”
The cat rolls over on the branches, exposing its belly. “Now why, my dear, would I ever do that?” The cat’s voice is feminine, like a mother’s. “Not all of us are tricksters and cheats. That’s stereotyping. Also, that’s a stereo, typing.” The cat pointed towards the side of the road, where a small stereo sat, happily hammering away on a typewriter. It had tiny metal fists and was literally punching the keys.
“Indeed it is. As for my assumption, it was merely based on the fact that if I had similar abilities, that’s exactly what I would do all day. Anyhow, I’m looking for a caterpillar, and was told to look around here.”
“A caterpillar? Why he’s a good friend of mine! I’ve known him almost an hour.” the cat rolls over again, and the silver parts of her fur begin to vanish, spiralling up her tail towards her head. The purple stripe collapses into a pile of ribbons. The smile and eyes float towards me. “So, whatcha need the caterpillar for?”
“My friend here has run into a bit of trouble. I was told the caterpillar could help her.” I pull Twilight out of my pocket and hold her up. “She’s supposed to be bigger.”
Twilight glares up at me. The cat face drifts closer, and Twilight sees it. She begins screaming, though this doesn’t deter the cat. Probably because I’m holding her rather closer to me, and I can barely hear the shrieking.
“Well, now, a tiny pony! Well, I suppose that’s a bit of an oddity, but perhaps it’s not her who shrunk? Maybe it’s you who’s bigger!” The cat remarks, looking at me again.
“Well, that is certainly possible, maybe I should look into that. Would the caterpillar be able to help us out?”
“Hmm... I’m sure he would. Tell me, though, what’s in it for me if I help you find him?” she asks coyly.
I think for a moment. “You could have...” I have no idea, really. What could the cat get? “The joy of helping out a pair of strangers?”
The cat thinks about it for a moment. “Well, it’s something new, at least, but I expect delivery promptly, understand?” she states, voice giving no room for argument. “Now first, I think you need to be a little less conspicuous.”
And with that, she springs forward, fully formed once more, and rakes her claws across my face. Instantly, a strange, unpleasant tingling begins to spread from the clawmarks, and everything seems to get a little bit clearer to see, except for myself. I seem to have turned partially invisible. And by ‘partially’, I mean, there’s stripes of me that just aren’t visible at all, and the rest is semi-transparent, a bit like my Stellar forms, but more so, but without the glowing.
The cat begins licking her paws. “There, consider it a gift... stranger. Now, follow me, and don’t stray. I’ll lead you around the chessboard, else you’d be bound to its rules.”
“I might be up for a game of chess...” I muse. “But I agree we should see the caterpillar first. Thank you by the way, I appreciate my gift.” I say, honestly. I look pretty neat, like some sort of higher being that mortals couldn’t comprehend. My subconscious gives an evil laugh and I chuckle light-heartedly, both of my ‘minds’ enjoying the idea in different ways.
The cat simply begins walking away, heading into the underbrush, and I scramble to keep up. And just as a note, keeping up with a cat that’s trying to move through thick forest is really hard, even outside of Wunderland. Perhaps if I got the cat talking, she’d slow down to let me catch up. But in Wunderland that might make things more difficult so I just keep my pace in silence, following the cat, though one question comes to mind that I have to ask.
“How many Cheshire Cats are there around Wunderland?”
“Enough of us.” she answers quickly.
“So what do you do if you don’t conform to the stereotype?” I ask, realising I decided not to ask questions but find myself doing so anyways. Eh, stranger stuff has happened today. Or has it been only a week? Maybe a minute? I love Wunderland physics though my inner scientist is trying to commit suicide.
“Whatever I want; I am a cat, after all.” she says, slipping into a log and coming out the other side a moment later. The log is solid.
“And is there such a thing as a Cheshire Dog?”
“Don’t be vulgar!” she snaps.
“I apologize.” I reply a bit wary. “I didn’t mean to offend. So how do you know the Caterpillar? You said you’ve known him for an hour?”
“Indeed. I met him and we spoke, and he gave me food. Ergo, he is my friend.”
Definitely a cat... “And he lives this far into the forest? What did he feed you?”
“An inquisitive bird that was bothering him. Some sort of raven, I believe, attempting to write a book.”
“A raven at a writing desk?” I ask, recalling the Mad Hatter’s famous riddle. “Interesting.”
“Precisely. And tasty.”
“And what was his book about? Or did you not read it?”
“I’m a cat, not a scholar.” We eventually come to a clearing that is... well, just a clearing in a forest. If there’s anything odd about it I haven’t noticed it yet. “The Caterpillar lives here.” The cat says.
“Thank you.” I say, “You were very informative.”
“I’m very useful.” she says. “Well, I have taken you to the caterpillar... hmm, yes, you’ve paid in full. I will see you later human. You will not see me.” she says, and the eerie, unpleasant tingling sensation recedes from my limbs and body, until all I feel is blood trickling down my face.
Oh, right, she scrat-AAAAUGH that hurts! I try to bear the stinging, but it doesn’t go away. Eventually though, the tingle of pain lessens and it feels like the scratches have stopped bleeding, though I do feel rather lightheaded. With a sigh and a rub of one of the cuts on my arm, I begin searching for the caterpillar. “Mister Caterpillar, are you here?”
“Indeed I am.” a voice calls, and a quick investigation prompts me to look up. Center of the clearing, and about eight feet up, is a plant hung in midair by thin strands of purple silk, and a little purple caterpillar is seated, upside-down, on a leaf. “The question is... are you really here?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘here’.” I reply. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’m not dreaming , and if this is all a dream and said I was here that would be both correct and not, wouldn’t it?”
“Quite. Now, for what reason have you come calling?” the caterpillar asks, letting loose a plume of violet smoke that drifts slowly down to the ground, forming shapes as it goes, all geometric and hard-edged.
“Well, either I’ve grown gigantic, or my friend...” I fish Twilight out of my pocket. “Has become very, very small. Would you be able to help in either case?”
“I’m sure I would.” he says, nodding sagely and letting another plume of smoke drift down, the first set settling in like little building blocks made for a mathematician’s child.
“Making my friend larger. Or me smaller. We’re still not sure who is the right size.”
“I am not the right size!” Twilight ‘screams’ from my palm. “Please fix this, I don’t like being so small!”
“Ah, I suppose I could try... bring her here, and I will examine her.” the caterpillar says.
I take Twilight and gently lay her down on a leaf next to the caterpillar’s, who is much less afraid of the situation than Twi. “Calm down, he’s going to make you big again, stop freaking out at every little thing.”
“Maybe it would be easier if I hadn’t been stuffed into a pocket and bounced around with every step you took then smelling what I can only describe as an entire river’s worth of blood!”
“You wanted to come, so we brought you. Did you seriously think that all of Wunderland’s randomness wouldn’t apply to you?” Twilight doesn’t respond, just inching closer to the caterpillar’s leaf.
“Please fix me...”
“Hmm... oh my... oh yes... how interesting.” the caterpillar says, turning his little head this way and that. Now that I’m closer, I can honestly say that mixing humanoid and caterpillar bodyparts isn’t nearly as appealing to look at as Disney made it out to be. That’s clearly a human mouth... and clearly insect eyes. Tiny little hands on six little legs... and the body is slightly hair, but not completely, like a rat’s tail.
“Wh- what’s interesting?” Twilight asks in her tiny voice. Man she’s so quiet from here, she could give Fluttershy a run for her money.
“Hmm? Oh, this smoke is changing flavors.” the caterpillar replies, puffing out another breath. Y’know, now that I’m here, I can also see that he’s smoking from a tiny gold and brass hookah, also upside down next to him.
“That is interesting.” I admit. “But what about Twilight?” The sooner she’s bigger the less complaining I will hear, hopefully.
“Oh, yes, it seems she’s been cursed. But more importantly, my smoke’s changed flavors! It oughtn’t do that, it’s very rude! I was enjoying that flavor.”
“Cursed!?” Twilight squeaks. “By who? How? When!? Can you undo it?”
“I suppose I could... if I had my smoke working right... y’know what? Get me some new smoke and I’ll change her back. Fair trade and whatnot.” he begins muttering something that sounds like obscenities, and begins shaking the hookah violently, little blots of some kind of ash or dust falling up into the sky.
“Alright, I think that’s fair. Do you know where we may find more smoke?” I ask, reaching out to pick up Twilight again.
“Wait! Why not change me back first? It would be easier to get the smoke with my help, right?”
“Ehhhhh, maybe.” I say, shrugging. “You’re at least easier to move around when you’re this small.”
“B- but... I... Ohhhh...”
I drop her back into my shirt pocket, rather enjoying the fact that Twilight is so helpless. It’s a big change from her usual insistence that she can handle anything Wunderland might throw at her. “Now, where can we find you more smoke, mister caterpillar?” I repeat.
“Obviously, you find smokey things. I have no idea, I’m not Yellow. I don’t find things, I fix things.”
“And would Yellow be able to help us?” I ask. “If so, where may we find Yellow?”
“Probably smoking in his glade.” he replies, a touch snappishly.
“Could you direct me to where his glade is then?”
“Opposite the direction it isn’t.” the little purple bug says, unhelpfully. Jeez... he really can’t find things, can he?
“Thanks... I think.” I reply lamely as I decide to just search the forest and try to find someone else who might be able to help.
I head into the dark forest, and quickly find that I’m lost, trees in strange colors and bushes laden with strange fruit everywhere. I trip and stumble over roots and low shrubs, and feel branches scratch at my face, brambles catching on my legs.
Then, almost jarringly, it all stops. The trees are all spaced apart, and the canopy is much higher, black bark and gnarled limbs reaching high to form a roof of off-green leaves far above. As well, the general forest noises ended as abruptly as the undergrowth, and a primal part of my brain begins clamoring that there’s danger afoot.
Turning around is no use, either, as it only shows more of this strange, dark wood in the other direction, the forest floored with dead, dry leaves and half-hidden loops of black roots. Even the wind has stilled, but the temperature seems to have dropped anyways, chilling me.
I reach for my Vorpal blade, ready to draw it at the first sign of anything dangerous. I Spark Up and enter my Heat form to combat the cold, but I’m still chilled even through that. This isn’t ordinary cold.
A lone ‘k-caw!’ echoes through the forest, muffled, yet crisp, and seemingly coming from every direction at once.
“Hello?” I ask in no particular direction, checking to see if whatever made that noise is verbal or not.
“Hello?” a scratchy voice calls back, sounding closer than the cawing. Hard to tell if it’s responding or just mimicking me, really. Might as well test it again.
“Where can I find Yellow?”
“Yellow!” the voice calls, sounding much closer than the ‘hello’.
“Show yourself.” I call, trying to determine the direction. I feel something vibrate against my chest, and realize that Twilight is shivering, likely afraid as I am.
“Self!” the voice yells, right behind me. I swivel around and draw the Vorpal Blade. The book said it would automatically go for the neck. Or did that only count for Jabberwocks? I can’t remember, but it’s too late now, the sword is drawn and that means it’s on the ‘hunt’ for a target. It jerks itself out of my hand, and flies towards a large, black poof of feathers, a wickedly-sharp yellow beak with the rusty-brown of dried blood, and three equally-wicked-looking clawed bird feet, flying past it before zipping back and snapping home in the sheathe at my side.
The sound, as it flew, sounds like ‘Ker-snick-ka-snak’ and the bird-thing slams into the forest floor instead of me, beaked head tumbling free. The blade at my side gives a pleased-sounding hum.
“Was that...?” I think out loud. “Was that a Jubjub bird?”
Twilight peeks her head out. “I’m not sure. From what I read I imagined them to be smaller. And skinnier.”
“But it could be, right?”
Twilight just gives a shrug of ‘I don’t know’ and ducks back into the pocket.
“Bird!” a distant cry sounds, echoing through the woods to mask its direction.
Another, slightly different voice calls, “Right!”
I have a feeling the Vorpal blade isn’t fast enough to take out more than one creature at a time. I also can’t use my form’s powers without burning or frying Twilight. Well, I have my saddlebag of coal to use. I fashion a buckler out of coal, much like the one I demonstrated for the princesses.
Looking around, I wait for another call, or the sound of movement, but nothing disturbs the silence of the forest.
“They only make sound when they mimic us.” I say aloud, to hopefully prove my theory. “So we just keep talking.”
“Us!” the sound is closer this time, as I predicted, followed by the other calling, “King!”
I keep up generic banter and conversation, the bird-like creatures repeating me and getting closer with each mimic. “Are you going to show up? Where are you?”
“Up!” “You!”
“No no.” I reply. “Up yours.” I keep my ears ‘open’ to listen to where the resulting calls will be coming from.
“No!” “Yours!” come the replies, prompting me to snicker. The birds reply by making an almost Bert and Ernie snickering sound, this time from right behind me again... and to one side.
I make a snap decision to duck, holding the buckler over my head to block a strike from above and swing the Vorpal Blade out behind me, once more pulled from my grip to fly off.
The JubJub bird slams into my buckler, two claws tightening around it and my arm, talons digging into the flesh of my inner arm, as the other dies to another snicker-snack, the live one leaning over the top with its third leg and scratching at my face with the other. I have enough scratches on my face already, don’t I, bird?!
The buckler shrinks down and becomes more angled in the middle, also growing teeth. I shove the rough bear trap into the Jubjub bird’s nearest available limb and slam it shut.
The bird’s beak opens, likely for an anguished cry, but all that comes out is a distorted version of the sound of the bird’s own leg snapping again, and it begins to drive its beak at me, aiming for my face and neck. And that beak isn’t bloodstained for show, either, it barely grazes me and slices my cheek open.
I decide to change my tactic, turning the bear trap into a circular saw and mentally command it to slice the bird’s head off at the neck while I grasp the beak in my hands and hold it as far away from my face as possible, though given the bird’s relatively small size that’s about arm’s length.
The thick ruff of feathers catches in the teeth of the saw, acting as a duller edge almost instantly, preventing it from working. And I can’t reach my knife without potentially letting the bird get closer to me than I’d like. Also, the edges of the beak are sharp enough to slice my hands as it jerks around, trying to escape, and it’s nearly strong enough to do so.
I decide to restrain it with the coal. If I can’t cut parts off, I can hold it down. With the coal dust wrapping around the bird, I let go of the beak so that a clamp can hold it shut while the rest of the coal binds around its wings and legs.
The bird struggles in silence, its wings not even making noises on the ground, and after a moment of struggling, it goes still, breathing but not moving.
I get a look at the bird and note one more strange thing. Upon closer inspection I find it has no eyes under the long, thin feathers on its head. At all. That means it’s tracking by smell or... sound. That’s why it’s not responsive, it can’t see anything in this silence.
That’s also probably why this whole forest is silent; they don’t want any distractions, and either ate everything that moved or did... something else.
That said, now that I’m privy to the creature’s hunting tendencies, I know how to use that to my advantage. I was also right that they were advancing whenever I made sound. So I just keep luring them to me and take them out as they arrive rather than letting them stalk me. I end the bird by crushing it, the bindings cinching tighter and tighter, essentially strangling the bird’s entire body.
I snap my fingers and the bird twitches, head pointing towards me so I end it the old-fashioned way, silently ordering the coal to cut off any circulation, the thing struggling as the pressure increases until a sharp crack ends its struggling for good. It still hasn’t made a single noise, and I have to wonder if, like with an owl, that’s related to its feathers.
Man, I wish I had brought a journal or something to write my discoveries in, listing them in more... sane terms. Either way, I’m learning a lot. I hear the sound of the bones cracking echo, but in a scratchy tone. Another bird has detected me, and now I’m prepared: It follows sound and sneaks up behind me, so I just keep making noise to draw it closer and finish it as I hear it get closer.
The hunted just became the hunter. My mind briefly asks what Jubjub Bird tastes like and I decide to figure that out once I’m out of here. I resume snapping my fingers every few moments and hearing the snapping echoed back to me, as usual, the distorted echo getting closer each time.
I decide to have a little fun with the bird and start humming and stopping randomly, basically playing Red Light, Green Light with it until... There! It’s within range! I spin to face it and draw my Vorpal Blade again.
*Snicker-Snack!*
And the bird is done. I risk a chuckle to myself as I enjoy my victory but... I hear my chuckle echoed three times. It’s at this point that I realize I probably should have gotten some armor like the ponies did, but for some reason it was never given. Oh well, I’ll just have to be creative.
Maybe I can trick them. I levitate a couple tiny balls of coal a few meters away from me and have them hit each-other making a light clumphing noise. I repeat that and the trio of birds begin echoing the sound. They’re tracking my bait. I grin silently to myself. I have them now.
Standing still, I watch as one of the birds comes down, settling down on a branch right above the coal spheres, cocking its head and coughing out similar noises.
Silently I turn the orbs into edged shards, like knives without handles and send them straight at the bird, the whistling sound of their rapid movement being echoed by the bird until its neck is pierced and the sound is distorted further before being cut off.
The other two birds haven’t made a noise, even as the one I saw topples without a sound to the forest floor. Again, I have to muse on how silent they are. It didn’t even make an impact noise.
Those must be some very soft feathers, or it’s some Wunderland physics at work... but now that I can hunt these birds effectively I decide to inspect them once I’m done here. I take a step towards the newly-fallen bird. Getting closer, I note that, with it’s size and the direct angle of my attack, I haven’t damaged its coat. If it really is as soft as I imagine, this kill could be sold for quite a pretty penny. I step forward, a stick cracking under my feet and-
“Gah!” I let out a cry as I feel a beak slam into the area between my shoulder blades, the bird having not wasted time with waiting for another sound. My cry alerts the other bird and it does the same, grazing my shoulder from my current position, hands and knees on the forest floor.
I’d underestimated their daring, expecting them to be more cautious. I hold in pained groans as I do my best to rub my back, assessing the damage. I see rather than hear one of the birds landing just in front of my face... but looking away from me, head jerking around to try locating me.
I mentally take a deep breath, fearing if I do the action for real I’d lose an eye. Once slightly calmer I slowly, very slowly reach for the vorpal blade at my side. I pause. If I do that, the noise the blade makes will give me away to the other bird and I don’t know where that one’s coming from.
Now with one hand frozen to my hip, I start wracking my brain. I could use coal, but that’s completely silent for the most part, and that means the last bird will be even more cautious, luring it out flawlessly no longer being an option.
I decide that that would be best, despite the drawbacks, and choke out the bird with another coal garrote. Once more, it’s silent and absolutely deadly, dropping the bird bonelessly and soundless to the ground. I close my eyes and decide to try playing their game, listening for any sounds... but just like all the others, this bird is completely silent. I carefully reach around and find a stick. Only got one chance at this. I snap the twig and roll, taking a beak in the side as I roll, obviously making plenty of noise, but I’m at least back to my feet. I reform the coal into balls and clack them, but nothing. It learned that this sound is a trap...
Hmmm... we seem to be at a stalemate, me unable to make any ‘safe’ noises, and the bird far too wary to make any mistakes. I just stare into the darkness, my ears open for any sort of noise. I hear nothing but my own heartbeat and the only thing that assures me that the bird can’t hear it is that I’m not being attacked.
A spark of inspiration hits me, and I form a pair of shoe-shapes from coal, and set them a few feet from me, making them ‘step’ on a twig. A flurry of dark feathers and a croaked-out ‘crack’ to match the twig’s demise blows past me, knocking me over as the bird strikes at where I would be if I had actually been standing there, and two bear-traps formed of the ‘shoes’ snags the bird by its wings, and it makes feeble recreations of the sounds of its wings breaking in numerous places. It hops in place on its three legs, awkwardly looking around for me, a blue-green blood dripping from where its wings are shattered, the dripping making soft pit-pat noises that seem to be confusing the bird.
I stand up, breaking another twig by accident and flinch but no bird comes. Was that it? Had they given up? I see the bird, now wingless, attempting to turn towards the sound, forcing out a cough that sounds vaguely like the stick and I decide to just end the bird with my Vorpal blade, the snicker-snack sound would surely draw the attention of other birds if they are here. It looks around as I freeze. It keeps turning towards where its own blood is dripping onto the leaves of the dark forest floor.
I end the bird with the Vorpal Blade, and as I suspected, the noise is considered ‘safe’ by the last bird who mimics the sound. Not wasting time I simply unsheathe the sword again, in the direction of the final bird. With the last noise being one from the sword and no repetitions, I feel safe in assuming I’ve finally won. My back feels like it’s bleeding and my cat scratches have been pulled open again by the fight... but I’m alive. I sigh and look around once more... at the perfectly ‘normal’ Wunderlandian forest, not a single dark tree in sight, the various sounds in the distance very reassuring, jarring as they are after the utter silence of the dark woods... and there’s still a Jubjub bird on the ground in front of me, dead, with plenty of feathers. Y’know, I’m sure Twilight would like to study them, and I can just snag a fistful of them and tuck them in the pocket with her. They seem fluffy enough to act as packing insulation for her, keep the jostling she was complaining about to a minimum.
Shrugging, I grab a fistful and do exactly that, barely hearing her protests at the huge clumps of foot-long black feathers.