The World of Quagga

by RavynKarasu

5. Return of the Prince

Had it really been so long? As Voodoo came closer to his village, he felt a wave of nostalgia running over him. He passed the rocks that had once been the ancient beach. He came close to the cave. It had a mildew sort of smell. The rains had come to these parts. There would be a great plenty. That was good news. At least when he showed up, the tribe would not be put out and straining to accommodate him simply because of his status.

“Oh, why me? Why me? Why me?” Came a familiar whine. Voodoo’s ears went erect and he then turned his head towards the sands. He couldn’t help but smile. That cowering form could be no other than Papaya Fuze. That smile was also accompanied by confusion. As fearful as Papaya Fuze was, why was he all by himself way out here? A second glance corrected the assumption. He wasn’t all alone. He was with a stranger. He looked like a zebra yet he seemed rather different. He was tall, slender, but very muscular. He had golden rings about his neck, a band around his head with a leather piece in the front holding teeth or claws. He almost looked like a cross between the Star Beings and a rhinoceros, a sort of adabba, though his “horns” were not real. He had the Zebra Mohawk, shaggy near the bottom until it met a slender rat-tail braid. He was a very light sepia, almost white though his stripes were extremely thick and brown, like red clay. The base of his tail was wrapped by colorful leather that matched his band. On his flank was the Destiny Mark of a hieroglyphic falcon.

Voodoo tried placing this individual. He was older than he was, but it was obvious the stranger was still an adolescent by his lank frame. He watched as Papaya Fuze seemed to search around in the sand. The stranger looked a little, but mostly just glanced while Papaya Fuze dug around like a frantic jackal. “ You will never find anything that way,” he stated in an almost condescending tone.

“ I’m trying! I’m trying!” Papaya Fuze cried out. “ I don’t think there are any here!” He scuttled about, digging some more. He finally felt the pressure get to him and he let out a cry and scrambled about before tripping on one of the rocks. He peered up and gasped when he noticed the figure of an armored Voodoo. “ Oh my! It’s a ghost!”

“ Ghost?” Voodoo repeated. He stepped forward and looked down at his tribe-mate. “ Papaya, it’s me, Voodoo…in the flesh.”

His mouth was agape as he tried to find words. Eventually they whispered out, “ Oh my. Have…you ascended?”

“ Ascended? What are you talking about?”

“ You were dead, my prince…and now you have grown and you stand before me! You’ve transcended death.”

Voodoo rolled his eyes. “ I was never dead, Papaya…”

It was then that the stranger game with a high gait to Papaya Fuze’s side and glared up at Voodoo. He narrowed his eyes at this figure. “ Who is this that stands before me? Identify yourself.”

Voodoo narrowed his eyes in return. “ I should be asking that of you, stranger. I am Voodoo, Prince of these lands. Yours is a face I’ve not seen before.”

A smirk grew on the strangers face and a small scoff made its way from his throat. “ I am Sandstorm, and I am the prince of these lands. This tribe had no Lwa Line when I arrived. Therefore I took it into mine.”

“ That cannot be so!” Voodoo growled. “ Chief Houngan is of the Lwa Line, as am I!” He stomped down his hoof to emphasize his displeasure in this…Sandstorm character.”

“ My prince,” Papaya Fuze whined, “ I’m afraid we were indeed without leadership. Chief Houngan passed not long after you were taken from us. It fell on your dear mother, Lady Mambo to keep things together. But soon, she too passed of a broken heart. Banana Razz and the soldiers tried to keep us running along, but with no chief, we were fading fast. Sandstorm’s herd came from the desert.”

“ With no Lwa Line in place, it was only right that the tribal throne would be mine,” Sandstorm chuckled.
“ How do I know you truly are who you say you are? You could be some imposter trying to fool this poor tribe.”

“ I have returned from a haven of Star Beings!” Voodoo announced. “ If my father before me is dead then I shall take command of this tribe in his stead. It would do you well to give me what is mine.”

Sandstorm scowled, “ I will not give up my tribal throne so easily. If you want it, you had better prove yourself and your worth to me! You could just as easily be one of the heathens from the south who live as wild beasts with no Lwa Line to keep them in check. I will not let some parasite Zebra take charge of this tribe!”

Voodoo was angry. A part of him had to admire Sandstorm though. He had guts and he certainly took his role as a leader very seriously. The logical part of him wanted to like him. If it were the other way around, and in some twisted way, it was, he’d be the same. Of course, the personal sting made it hard to focus on those grand qualities. Sandstorm turned and marched off towards the village. Voodoo knew it was the silent command to follow. While he disliked the notion of obeying this colt, he knew there really was no other option. That was the direction he had intended to go anyway. So, he came alongside the cringing Papaya Fuze and walked with him back to the village he once called home.

*

“ Is he a good prince?” Voodoo asked quietly as the village came into view. Papaya Fuze’s ears perked as he began to stand more confidently.

“ I suppose he is,” he replied. “ It could be worse. The Griffons have started to be a bit more active over the last few years. They seem agitated. Even with our military forces, we just seem to fall short of the par level we needed to keep them from picking us off one by one. We still can’t keep them away, but Sandstorm and his tribe of warriors have certainly helped to make our tribe feel a little safer.” He flattened his ears nervously as he boldly continued, “ What could we do, my prince? We had no one.”

“ You did what you had to do to survive,” Voodoo responded. “ I do not fault any of you.” He perked when he heard a cheerful cry. Ahead, he saw a sepia and charcoal filly rushing to Sandstorm. She was rather lovely. Her mane was the traditional Zebra cut though in the front, it hung forward in the front like the lure of an angler fish. She dressed in brilliant colors: flowers, woven wraps, and trinkets. A quick glance at her Destiny Mark showed the scar of a hieroglyphic style lotus.

“ Did you find anything?!” The filly asked Sandstorm with excitement. “ Did you?”

“ No,” he replied flatly. “ Do not worry, my sister. We shall look again. However, we must first attend to a situation.” He perked as he heard the gasps of the other tribe members. It seemed rather unanimous then, didn’t it? This tribe recognized Voodoo as their missing prince. Like Papaya Fuze, many mistook the Zebra with the strange wavy mane and tale as either a ghost or ascended being. After all, they had believed him long since dead. He was a mere foal then, and now he came to them pushing adolescence: a frame similar to their stand-in prince though a tad smaller do to the slight age difference.

“ Can it be?” Banana Razz gasped as he walked past Sandstorm. “ Have I gone blind in my other eye or is that…”

“ Voodoo?” Sandstorm asked. “ So he claims. “ I assure you…that you see no ghost. I intend to prove such a phantom bleeds the same blood as you and I.”

“ Is he dangerous?” The filly asked.

“ That’s overdoing it,” Banana Razz grumbled. “ We lost him once. I don’t think the tribe would stand to lose him again.”

“ Your tribe needs my tribe, Banana Razz. A few mismatched soldiers among a tribe of harvesters are no match for the enemies that come. If destiny sees it fit for him to resume his ownership over you, he will be victorious. Should fate decide that he is not…I shall crush him.”

“ Sandstorm, that’s harsh,” the filly frowned. “ What a horrible welcome.” She reared and rushed past her brother as he called in vain after her. She rushed right up to Voodoo who cowered back a moment, surprised by her direct nature. He stood tall again but kept his ears lowered slightly. She was just…so pretty.

“ G-good day, Miss,” he greeted.

“ Voodoo, right?” She asked. “ I’m Herbal Extract. You must be so tired from your long journey from wherever that may be, but it must be far away because I’ve never seen you, and it’s been many years, and if you were close, you’d have probably come home, and you probably would have corrected the situation long ago, and you didn’t, so that must mean you were either a coward or far away, but you don’t seem like a coward because you’re back now and you’re willing to face my brother and…” She sucked in a breath only to have Voodoo gently press a hoof to her mouth. She went cross-eyed to look at it and smiled when she understood his wordless request for silence.

“ It is a pleasure to meet you, Herbal Extract,” he said as he pulled his hoof away. “ I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“ Come along, I’ll get you settled in!” She invited, coming alongside him and almost herding him with her body towards the inner village. “ You can rest and freshen up. You can tell us about where you’ve been and the marvelous things you’ve seen!”

“ I doubt anyone would believe me,” he chuckled. “ If I hadn’t have been there, I don’t think even I would believe it.”

As they walked along, he noticed many new faces. Many of them were a variation of sepia tones. He knew most of his own tribe, though some new additions had come along in the last few years. Some faces were gone and some had grown, and some still remained the same. Tumbleweed was among Psychedelic Fury and a new sepia soldier. He had grown to look like quite a mature colt. Indeed, the now long healed scar did resemble a briar patch. He could see the thorns now. Dust Devil had received his Destiny Mark. It was a brick pyramid. Herbal Extract explained that she was the one to give it to him and she felt the destiny was to build the fortresses. Voodoo actually felt pleased. Dust Devil had wanted to work on the bricks, and that’s what he got to do. Papaya Fuze, Pina Colada and Banana Razz were still around, though Banana Razz seemed to have become a jack of all trades sort of Zebra. He was still one of the best pingers, earning him respect from the soldiers. He was still the best harvest pinger in the tribe. He also was one of the most loyal voices of reason and thus became a sort of advisor to Sandstorm in Voodoo’s absence. He also knew this area better than anyone, which would have proved invaluable to a newcomer tribe.

He saw a sepia Zebra working on the loom, creating fascinating blankets and wraps of brilliant colors. Forget giant banana leaves, this tribe knew how to make pants and dyes. Indeed, compared to Voodoo’s village, Sandstorm’s tribe seemed quite advanced in both military and industrial skill. He suddenly felt a pit in his stomach. Did he really stand a chance against such advancements? Structures were being built from stone and bricks…rather than just foundations. It was starting to look like a more permanent fixture in the landscape, this growing village. He heard two sepia architects discussing a wall with towers to surround the village mainland, creating a fortress of sorts. Sandstorm seemed to be planting the seeds of a settlement kingdom rather than a simple wandering tribe or simple farming community. He had to admire the broad scope of what that new prince brought with him. He wouldn’t have thought of all this, would he?

Herbal Extract sang many praises to her own tribe. Her grandfather had apparently domesticated livestock in his reign, providing the tribe with wooly goats for milk, skin, bone tools, and wool. Due to that, they had far more delicious delicacies such as butter, cheese, much richer cakes, and much of the like. Voodoo’s tribe used only what they scavenged from the savannah. The supplies were always mediocre. Then again, it seemed Sandstorm’s tribe had little qualms with killing other creatures themselves. As Herbal Extract told it, they would have grand hunts and bring home skins, bones to be made into tools and jewelry, fats to be rendered into frying lard or into soaps. It seemed they had become talented in the arts of soaps, lotions, and shampoos. As tribes went, this had to be the most potentially decadent, and all without a settlement. Now that they had planted their roots here, would it continue to grow?

That evening, at the end of twilight, that darkest part of the day when nighttime darkness did not come, Voodoo wandered about the village, filled with sleeping Zebras, save the soldiers that kept guard…a tighter one than he remembered. He looked up to the stars as he wandered towards the watering hole. The guards didn’t seem too worried about stopping him, as the watering hole and its trail were still considered part of the territory. The few stars that were visible brought a sense of longing in the displaced prince. He missed Astral Nova and the other Star Beings. He felt comfortable there. At least in his inferiority, he was still satisfied, for they were naturally the sorts in which to bow his head. This…Sandstorm…only a few years his senior…over his own tribe, it felt wrong. Yet, it seemed the best choice. His tribe…didn’t need him. So, now what? Now what should he do? He had ingenuity, yes, but not that sort of ingenuity. At least, he didn’t have it in such magnitude.

“ Is that the purpose of this destiny?” He sighed as he came along to the water’s edge. He stared at his reflection with a frown. “ I come home only to realize how inadequate I am as a chief? Do I go back? Do I just…go? He’s got everything he needs: a grand army, all those advancements, the skill and foresight. What do I have?”

“ What do you have?” Came an almost wistful voice with a thick and heavy accent. It was a deep voice, full of authority, despite the low volume it used. Voodoo looked around, trying to find the source and could find none. He became anxious and tense. A rustling caught his attention and he prepared to face whatever foe would come his way. It was a shadowy figure. Well, it was black, but not a shadow. Another stranger but not like the Sepia tribe. He was quite a stallion, this new stranger. His coat was as black as black could be. His stripes were gold. Not yellow, but glimmering gold. He had gold loop earrings, the neck ringlets, and was adorned with bracelets, a golden tail-base wrap. His eyes seemed to glow a pale yellow light. Voodoo couldn’t make out pupils or irises. The fur on his legs feathered at the bottom to reveal golden hooves. On the head of this figure was a long golden horn. Beneath it, a much smaller golden horn, like a crocodile tooth beneath the first. Who was he? Who was he?

Voodoo took him in. Even his Destiny Mark was gold. He couldn’t help but grow wide-eyed and gasp. That was a tradition LONG since abandoned! Only royalty who had completed coronation in the ancient glory days were given such a treatment. Voodoo had heard about it. New kings would have their Destiny Marks picked and reopened so they could be fused and inlaid with gold and special treatments to give it color. He even had the mark of a king, a crook and flail crossed over one another. Who was this Zebra to dare sport such extravagance?

“ Who are you?!” Voodoo spat. “ Are you one of the Sepias?”

“ Sepias,” the dark Zebra chuckled. “ How primitive. I serve none of your silly little tribes. The question is…who are you?”

“ I am Voodoo! I am…” he softened and saddened, “ …was prince of these lands…”

“ Ah yes, you’re Houngan’s foal,” the dark one huffed before lowering his head to drink from the watering hole.”

“ You knew my father?”

The stranger licked his lips as he raised his head and glared at Voodoo with an expression that was superior, but otherwise hard to read. “If you served no more purpose in the grand scheme of things, you would have been destroyed by now. Fate can toy with one for a long time, but how that one handles it…determines the outcome. So, after all this, you want to walk away? Not even try? What sort of prince are you? You speak like a Heathen. Godless and lawless creatures they are without a civilized bloodline to keep them from being more than wild beasts.”

“ I am no Heathen!” Voodoo declared angrily. “ I am a prince of the Lwa Line!”

“ And, so is this Sandstorm,” the stranger stated as he flicked his tail and began to circle about Voodoo almost menacingly with a twisted grin. “ There is a great difference between he and you at this time.”

“ I see it,” Voodoo replied with annoyance. “ He is a military leader and an architectural genius. He has brought so much to my tribe that I couldn’t bring.”

“ You know that how?” The stranger asked. “ Do you not think you have things he does not. He did not have harvesters, so his tribe was nomadic, bringing his herds to pasture after pasture. Your tribe brought him a permanent place.”

“ But I wasn’t the one to do that.”

“ You…who walked with Star Beings…have nothing to offer?”

“ How did you know that?!” Voodoo gasped.

“ Amazing creatures, aren’t they?” The stranger chuckled. “ I have walked with them too. They don’t walk with just anyone, you know. They may grace a presence here and there, but how many can boast they have walked among the Star Beings as part of their collectiveness?”

“Apparently, just you and I,” Voodoo replied. “ I know of no others, if what you say is true.”

“ Lying would be so pathetic at this point,” the stranger sighed. “ I find the truth far more dramatic and entertaining. And the truth is that you need to imagine a bigger picture than your pathetic turf war and pride.”

Voodoo’s ears perked and he raised his head. He had to stop following the stranger. He was getting dizzy. As intimidating as he was, Voodoo had a feeling if he had intended to be a threat; he’d have been more direct about it. “ Bigger picture…”

“ You are a new piece to this puzzle, Voodoo. So, you think Sandstorm is so great. That ought to be flattering for him. He’s a very good leader. Are you not a good leader? You’ve not even tried to test your hooves at the mightiness you have in your bloodline. You have no trophies to bestow to the eyes of your tribe. You have no victories under your pelt, save what, frightening a Griffon as a child?”

“ You sure seem to know an awful lot about me,” Voodoo stated suspiciously.

“ Your brazen got you your Destiny Mark. Surely the Star Beings have not sapped this from you. Is this really the end of your journey?”

“ Enough!” Voodoo shouted. “ If you are so wise, then tell me what I must do!”

“ A good king does not get all of his answers from others. Some, yes. It pays to listen to others. But, what makes a leader is the ability for him to think on his own four hooves and provide answers. That’s why he is a leader. When you face future leaders, you too will understand when you must provide answers and when you must stand back, for better or worse, to let those future leaders provide for their own and interfere not in their endeavors.”

Voodoo felt his heart sink and his head and ears went with it. He felt so confused and defeated, yet this stranger’s words flicked something inside of him like a flint. “ There are dangers out there besides leopards? Besides Griffons?”

“ Can you handle that?” The stranger asked. “ Are you willing to rise to whatever you come to face with the heart of a leader? With the heart of the Lwa Line? Even if you are afraid?”

Thunder rolled gently overhead and Voodoo looked as some purple clouds began to slink through the red sky. He looked about to address the stranger but found that he was gone. Gone! Just…vanished into thin air, it seemed! Voodoo was talking to someone, wasn’t he?! A lukewarm breeze blew through his wavy mane and the leaves of the palms sighed as they moved with it. Voodoo looked at his reflection again, “ Have I slipped into the brink of insanity?”

He reflection looked back and then bubbled. This confused him at first but then he snapped his head back just as a crocodile sprung forth, snapping his jaws just a mere inch from Voodoo’s face. He let out a cry of shock and fell back onto his plot as the giant reptile snarled and pulled back slightly, preparing for another attack. “ By the great grace of Lwa!” He shouted. He then watched the crocodile and scooted away. The more he backed away, the more the beast advanced. Oh, this was just his luck! Griffons, fevers, nearly being buried alive, ending up in some strange jungle, coming home to find his tribe completely changed and his parents dead, a prince who wants to battle him, and now this stupid crocodile! He was always at the mercy of everything around him! Chance; Luck! Chance; Luck! Chance; Luck!

He felt his features tighten and he slammed his front hooves on the ground, “ Enough is enough! You messed with the wrong Zebra on the wrong day…”

*

As the sun began to ascend into the dawn state, a chill came through the air. It had been noted that Voodoo was nowhere in the village and the evening soldiers had not seen him return from his walk to the water hole. The idea he had run away seemed hard for anyone to believe that knew him, and was proven to not be the case anyway as three fuzzy little balls of fur rolled from the swollen water hole to Sandstorm and began to stumble verbally over one another as they pointed to where the goats had been taken to drink.
“ Slow down!” Sandstorm urged. “ What are you three blabbing about! Speak clearly!”

“ There’s a scary sight! The new guy is at the watering hole! Big monster!”

“ Very big!” Came another furry ball

“ Scary monster!” From the third.

Sandstorm couldn’t help but flatten his ears. Bushwoolies…if they weren’t so invaluable in a place like this…he’d buck them over the moon one by one. He swung his head aside, “ Psychedelic Fury! Tumbleweed! Come along with me. It seems we have an issue with some trespassing beast.”

Tumbleweed gulped and looked to Psychedelic Fury. He may have learned a lot from the soldiers, but Tumbleweed still felt that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when his services were called out above the others, or even with them. Why not Split End? Why not Hawkeye? Why not one of the Sepia Tribe soldiers? Wouldn’t Sandstorm want to be protected by his own? Still, he wasn’t going to argue, and he forced the confident façade as he walked with Psychedelic Fury to flank the prince on either side and walk with him towards the swollen water hole.

The mares huffed and scraped their hooves in the dirt in annoyance. If there was a beast out there, they’d be quarantined within the village, unable to collect fresh water until the situation had been handled. As Sandstorm and the soldiers approached, Tumbleweed gasped. Psychedelic Fury was equally stunned, though he kept silent and only let his eyes show his true feelings. Sandstorm was admittedly surprised at the sight before him as well. There was Voodoo, sitting in a pathetic manner, a bit disheveled, and staring down at the dead crocodile. However, he wasn’t looking at it, but off into some trance-state. The reptilian body was a mess. Obviously, Voodoo had trampled on it, which explained the slight hoof-prints, but there were gashes and other abrasions and lesions which left the three of them unsure of what Voodoo had done or used. The ultimate result was that mess of a beast before him.

“ Voodoo!” Sandstorm called. This seemed to pull the young colt out of his trance as he perked his ears and slowly looked over his shoulder. “ What in the name of Lwa did you do?!”

“ I…I’m not sure,” he replied, almost lost. He stood up and wobbled a bit on his legs. “ I just…I dunno.”

Sandstorm came close and looked the beast over. “ That’s some mess of a kill, Voodoo. You’re not much a hunter, are you?”

“ I have never hunted before,” he admitted.

“ This is one beautiful beast. I’ve never killed a crocodile before. I don’t think any of us have. You did this by yourself?”

“ Yes,” he replied.

Sandstorm almost seemed to do a little dance, unable to hold in a sense of excitement, “ Crocodile skin would be an amazing thing to use! The teeth would be very useful! You are amazing! Boys, use some vines and take this prize home!” Needless to say, Tumbleweed and Psychedelic Fury were not…pleased with this job. Sandstorm placed an arm about Voodoo’s shoulder and grinned with a hint of respect, “ I may have underestimated you. You’ve got some guts to take on a beast like that all by yourself…and win. So, how about we make a little wager?”

Voodoo perked his ears and looked to the Sepia prince in confusion, “ Wager? What kind of wager?”

“ I think I like you,” Sandstorm said. “ I think it would be a good idea to keep you around. The question is: in what capacity?”

“ Yyyyyeeeesssss?” Voodoo dragged, still confused.

“ Let’s have the stand-off. We’re both Lwa Line. We both have rightful claim to rule over the tribe. So, we face off. Good friendly competition. If I win, you bow out to me. I become king of the tribe and you gracefully respect that.”

“ And if I win?”

“ I will do the same. In good faith, I will even offer to you my sister, Herbal Extract as a bride to unite our tribes officially as one.”

A deep blush grew across Voodoo’s face and it became hot. It wasn’t the notion of a spar that bothered him. It was the whole bride thing. He was barely old enough to think about stuff like that. Plus, he had only met Herbal Extract the day before. Granted, she seemed rather taken with him. She would also fall into the traditional role of a first bride. She knew her potions and elixirs and such. She…would indeed make a good wife, but still! “ Um…”

“ You do like my sister, don’t you?” Sandstorm chided. This only made Voodoo a bit more nervous.

“ She…seems really nice. This is…just a bit more sudden than I would have expected.”

“ Be a stallion, Voodoo! Come along, let us take this prize back to the village and we will prepare a place for the spar!”

Voodoo stood up and began to walk with him, conveniently ignoring the girly cries from Tumbleweed behind them. He really wasn’t cut out for this soldier thing. “ Sandstorm, can I ask you something?”

“ I don’t see why not,” he replied, also ignoring the childish reaction behind them.

“ Do you have…a black Zebra?”

“ Black?” Sandstorm perked. “ No. Only the king is allowed to wear black warpaint. I’ve not even gotten to wear it, yet. Why?”

Voodoo looked away, “ Nothing. I just…maybe it was too much sun.”

“ During coronations, at least in the war tribes, it’s customary for the new king to be painted up in black and his stripes painted with gold. He then gets to wear the Lwa Crown. Doesn’t your tribe do that?”

“ I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen a coronation before. My father was still king when I was taken away.” He cleared his throat. “ Do you think some of us have…special abilities? I don’t mean like Destiny Mark sort of thing. I mean…something beyond the physical?”

“ Something that sets us apart from everyone else?” Sandstorm asked.

“ Exactly.”

“ Hmmm,” he thought. “ I suppose. My grandfather could feel no pain. Though I think that backfired on him eventually. He eventually died in battle, unable to realize he needed wounds treated.”

“ Have you…ever seen a Star Being?”

“ Pfft, no,” Sandstorm laughed. “ I believe something once ruled over Zebra-kind. After all, we learned our military expertise from somewhere. We still do ceremonies for war-gods.”

“ But they do not show themselves?”

“ No.”

Voodoo sighed. Sandstorm seemed a bit confused. Whatever Voodoo had been trying to say, he failed miserably. He didn’t look as if he’d be explaining it, either. Why did that guy have to be so mysterious? It honestly gave Sandstorm the chills, like walking in a battleground graveyard. Yes, that was what the chill reminded him of: Death. Something about Voodoo reminded him of death. He couldn’t quite put his hoof on it. He took a side glance only to get that chill again up his back. It made his withers spasm and his mane twitch on his neck.

“ I just don’t get you, Voodoo,” he finally admitted. “ Every time I think I can figure something out, it ends up not coming together just right.”

“ If you ever do figure it out,” he replied. “ Be sure to tell me what you find. For I cannot figure me out either…”

To that, Sandstorm gave a chuckle, soon drowned by the cheers of the other Zebras at the sight of the beast being dragged in and the feeling of pride and safety from the mares now able to get the water.

Author's Note:

Sorry it's short. The flow wouldn't have been right if I didn't cut it off. Next chapter: the fight!

Comments

[Puzzle Reader]

I really love the zebra worldbuilding you've done here. If you're still alive, it'd be great to get another chapter some time.

[Majestickfire9]

This is so cool. It's not often I find a good fanfic like this let alone one about the zebras. There are more hybrid pony fics than there are zebra fics which is a shame but it makes it easier finding gems like this. :)