Fight or Flight

by Wildheart1337

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Weaving Silver flew through the sky; she put a hoof to her face whipping moisture from her eye. Weaving Silver stared at the moisture on her hoof, tears, she thought; she had never cried before. Weaving Silver shook her head violently trying to shake her thoughts away. I can’t believe I tried to become friends with that mare, Weaving Silver thought bitterly to herself. Suddenly a whirling bola shot out from the trees and slammed into Weaving Silver driving her to the ground hard. Weaving Silver worked furiously at the ropes as ponies came out from the brush.

“We caught one,” called a pony running up to Weaving Silver.

“What gives,” Weaving Silver protested.

“Silence, Changeling,” growled one of the ponies kicking Weaving Silver in the ribs. She gasped in pain as another kick landed; Weaving Silver turned over and started to crawl away. Somepony snagged her tail and pulled her back.

“You’re not getting away, Changeling,” growled the pony kicking Weaving Silver in the ribs again.

“Stop,” Weaving Silver begged covering her head with her hooves as a shield from the brutal beating.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, Changeling,” growled a pony; cracking one of Weaving Silver’s ribs.

“Please, stop,” Weaving Silver begged again.

“Did you Changelings stop when my brother begged you to,” snarled the pony landing another kick. “No, you beat him to death without a thought of remorse.” Weaving Silver tried to crawl away again only to be pulled back.

“Stop, please,” Weaving Silver begged again she could barely take anymore.

“Help,” Weaving Silver screeched hoping the somepony would hear her.

“No help’s coming for you, Changeling,” growled the ponies. Suddenly a powerful earth-pony slammed into the cruel ponies. The earth-pony knocked ponies away from Weaving Silver.

“Who do you think you are,” growled the first pony “defending a changeling.”

“What proof do you have,” argued the earth-pony “have you seen her change shape.”

“No.”

“Have you asked her if she was a changeling,” asked the earth-pony.

“No.”

“Then how can you be sure that you are beating on a changeling, and not a helpless pony,” asked the earth-pony. Leaning down the earth-pony whispered into Weaving Silver’s ear “I know who you are just play along.”

“Go on,” urged the earth-pony standing up “ask her if she is a changeling.”

The pony glared at the earth-pony “fine, are you a changeling.” Weaving Silver rose shakily to her hooves to stare at the ponies before her.

“No I am not,” Weaving Silver said.

“There see, that wasn’t so hard was it,” asked the earth-pony; the pony before him barred his teeth.

“You know what,” growled the pony “I think I recognize you.”

“Do ya now,” asked the earth-pony.

“You are, Wildheart,” said the pony.

“The one and only,” Wildheart said with a small bow.

“Hello, Wildheart, I’m Stag,” said the pony mockingly.

“Pleased to meet you,” Wildheart greeted.

“Do you know who this is,” Stag asked gesturing to Weaving Silver with a nod.

“I’m her guardian,” Wildheart said turning to examine the damage dealt to Weaving Silver. He found three cracked ribs, and her wing was broken. Wildheart turned to glare at Stag.

“If you ever harm so much as another feather,” Wildheart growled “I’ll…”

“You’ll what,” Stag demanded.

“I’ll make the Changelings seem nice,” Wildheart growled. Then turning to Weaving Silver “lets go.”

“Hold on, Wildheart,” Stag called stepping forward from the group.

“What,” Wildheart demanded turning to Stag.

“You look like you can put up a fight,” Stag asked “the Resistance could use you.”

“I gave up fighting long ago,” Wildheart said turning away “brought me nothing but pain.”

“Then how do you live,” Stag asked.

“Running, hiding, and pray to Princess Celestia I’m not caught,” Wildheart answered.

“Sounds like you have a sad wasteful life then, Wildheart,” Stag said.

“Wasteful,” Wildheart repeated turning back to Stag “I’m not the one bent on revenge.” Stag stiffened at Wildheart’s words and dug groves in the ground with his hoof.

“My brother was beaten to death by changelings,” Stag growled “you have no idea what pain I go through every day waking up finding he’s not there.”

“I know pain can swallow you up; make you feel weak and helpless inside,” Wildheart said as Stag came to stand nose to nose with him. Wildheart and Stag stared each other down until Weaving Silver stepped in between them.

“Stop bickering about who has worse pain,” Weaving Silver growled “in the end nopony cares about your pain.” Wildheart stared at Weaving Silver shocked about her sudden outburst.

“What you think I don’t know what pain is,” Weaving Silver asked catching Stag’s eye “a changeling killed my father.” Suddenly Weaving Silver’s eyes flashed green as she grew in anger.

“I knew it,” Stag gasped backing away from Weaving Silver “she’s a changeling.” The ponies charged at Weaving Silver, who narrowed her eyes and turned into her full changeling form. Suddenly Wildheart stepped in front of Weaving Silver.

“What are you doing,” Weaving Silver demanded.

“She is not a changeling,” Wildheart growled; Weaving Silver stared at him and turned back to her pony form.

“She looks like one to me,” Stag growled.

“Her father was my best friend, and he was more pony than any,” Wildheart growled.

“I was born to a changeling,” Weaving Silver said “I will always be feared for what I am.”

“You are no changeling, Weaving Silver,” Wildheart snapped turning on her “and I’ll die before I say different.”

“Then you can die with her, changeling,” Stag growled charging forward. Wildheart turned and stood his ground planting his hooves on the ground sending cracks through the surface. The wind was knocked out of Stag as he bounced off Wildheart and landed painfully on his side.

“W-what,” Stag gasped.

“I said you won’t touch her again,” Wildheart growled glaring down at Stag. Wildheart reared up; Stag closed his eyes waiting for the end. Weaving Silver shrieked as Wildheart’s hooves descended with a crunch. Stag opened his eyes to see that Wildheart had smashed a rock next to him.

“That could have been your skull,” Wildheart warned “next time it will be.”

“Here let me help you,” Weaving Silver offered extending a hoof to Stag.

“I don’t need your help, change…,” Stag stared but stopped as he caught Wildheart’s eye. “Thanks,” Stag grunted reluctantly accepting Weaving Silver’s hoof.

“That is what I meant by making the Changeling’s look nice,” Wildheart said as Weaving Silver helped Stag to his feet.

“You have an unusual sense of humor, Wildheart,” Stag grumbled.

“Are you through causing trouble,” Wildheart asked.

“Yes,” Stag answered with a sign “sorry, Wildheart.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Wildheart interrupted, then nodding to Weaving Silver.

Stag grumbled to himself then sighed “I’m sorry that I caused you trouble.”

“It’s no problem, just be genital next time,” Weaving Silver reassured.

“Do you need some help with that,” Stag asked nodding to Weaving Silver’s wing.

“No, I got it,” Weaving Silver said then turning around she snapped her wing back in place. Wildheart flinched hearing the crack as the bones reset.

“I was never fond of that,” Wildheart grimmest suppressing a shutter.

“How did she do that,” Stag asked staring at Weaving Silver in awe.

“Ever since I was born I have had a regenerating ability,” Weaving Silver answered cracking her ribs back in place.

“Would you… uh… like to… um… join the resistance, Weaving Silver,” Stag asked using her actual name for the first time. Weaving Silver looked from Stag to Wildheart who’s gaze held the question, what will you choose.

“Um, thank you for your offer,” Weaving Silver answered “but I would like to stay with Wildheart.”

“Suit yourself,” Stag answered with a shrug, then turning back to the other ponies “boys were off.” Then Weaving Silver and Wildheart were alone.