If I Was Wooden Matter…?
Fluttershy hesitantly entered the library of Twilight’s palace. “Twilight? Do you have a minute? I have a very serious question to ask—”
Twilight marked her place in her book, shut it, and sighed. “Fluttershy, do you know how many times we’ve had this conversation? Not only here but in parallel universes? What secret are you keeping from me this time? You’re really a changeling? A vampire? A colony of moles in a suit?”
Fluttershy hastily took a sip from her Miracle-Gro shake and hid it behind her back. “Uh, no, none of those. I just wanted to ask…”
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes?”
“If I was… wooden matter?”
“Huh? Oh, whatever. No, it wouldn’t matter to us.”
“Really?” gulped Fluttershy. “It… you wouldn’t care if I was…?” She stared about her at the wooden lecterns and furniture, and all of the books whose pages were composed from the shredded flesh of countless trees…
“No, Fluttershy. Whatever you’re made of, wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Oh,” asid Fluttershy, horror growing on her face. “Oh.” She eeped and fled out the door.
Twilight shrugged and returned to her book, moistening a hoof to flip a page, with a small chuffing noise as the keratin in her hoof chafed against the wood pulp.
~~~~~
The crescent moon glowed over the dark forest of the Everfree that night, and the few beams that shone between the gaps in the black foliage dimly illuminated a dismal scene. Timberwolves were gathering in a small clearing, snuffing and growling. Stranglevines visibly grew and curled alongside them, forming deadly tangles. Trees with squirming tendrils like hair, and grim faces, coiled their roots in the dank earth and impossibly pulled themselves closer, closer to one central figure, a slender tree of butter yellow with pink leaves…
“I have spoken with a leader of the Red Ones,” she said. “They do not care. They will not change.”
Leaves rustled through the clearing in anger and despair.
“We, the Green Ones, will not tolerate this any longer,” she said. “We will make them care.”
She waved a limb in the direction of Ponyville.
“Tonight… we walk.”
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Wait... WHUT?
Thirty-six hours later:
"Sis?" Apple Bloom asked, setting her apple cart aside for a moment and wiping her brow. "Don't the Everfree seem a little closer than usual?"
Applejack squinted and frowned. "Not really. … Maybe. I guess? Stop slackin' and get back to haulin' apples so I got some empty carts to buck into."
"I'm serious, sis! Lookit that big ugly tree. I almost tripped over its root in the path to the clubhouse this mornin'. I don't remember it bein' so close to the road." She shuffled her hooves. "It's kind of a safety hazard."
Applejack sighed, set down her apple baskets, and trotted toward the house. "I'll get the axe."
6550459 That's awesome. An army of living trees that has to march through Sweet Apple Acres is rather like Spike fighting an army of gems.
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Meanwhile...
Pinkie beamed from a makeshift drum set cobbled together from cookware and her rimshot kit. "You mean I can really play as much as I want as long as I want?"
Granny Smith nodded. "Durn tootin'! Them timberwolves are more riled up than a mare with a hornet in 'er saddle, an' Ah can't spend all day bangin' pots. Ah figger an hour-long drum solo oughta put the fear o' Celestia into them right proper."
"No, not the fear of Celestia." Pinkie narrowed her eyes, her smile taking on a sinister tone. "The fear of pink." She clacked her drumsticks together. "One, two, three!"
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Rainbow Dash sat up with a gasp.
Heart hammering to the frantic, ghostly beat pounding in her ears, she unclenched her fingers from her awesome lightning-bolt sheets, rolled over the side of the mattress and onto her feet, and stumbled into the dark and dingy bathroom. She stared into the mirror in silence, in the dim glow of the LEDs from her electric toothbrush, until the visions of ponies faded from behind her eyes. Her heartbeat gradually slowed and receded from her hearing.
And yet pony Pinkie Pie's final shout of "ONE-HOUR DRUM SOLO!" continued to worm through the deepest recesses of her brain.
She shuddered.
Not for the last time, she swore that she would stop going to band practice and then eating ghost-pepper curry before bed.
By God, now I'm having Ent flashbacks.
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If the Ents got the One Ring?
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Have I created a monster? Or just another chapter in Never the Final Word?
6627324 6552414
Probably both.
I've really fallen down on keeping NTFW updated the last month or two, though. (FOME sent me another submission that's been sitting in my PMs waiting for me to find some focus, and I'm pretty sure I've got one or two others in the queue.) One or both of you give me a poke in another week or so if nothing's come of this, so I can get to it when I'm not in Writeoff/RCL catch-up/frantic-story-editing mode.
Isn't this basically canon now, what with the plunder vines and the comic with the deer?