A Job With Benefits

by Boomstick Mick

Night of The Timberwolves

She's late, Soarin thought to himself, yawning as he looked at the neon-lit clock on his barn wall.

Soarin stretched before he pushed himself up from his couch. His day off had been spent alone, eating snacks and watching movies on his new entertainment system. He had eventually fallen asleep on his couch. It was early in the afternoon when he remembered shutting his eyes, the clamorous sounds of some old campy horror flick lulling him to sleep. He was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed now, and it was well into the evening. Apple Bloom should have been home by now. He was curious as to why she hadn't roused him with inquiries about dinner.

Maybe she cooked dinner herself? Soarin mused, but he quickly disregarded the thought. Apple Bloom couldn't cook; if there was a way to burn water, that filly would find it.

Soarin pushed the barn door open. The sky was just beginning to bruise a light purple. The sun had already sank behind the mountains, and the first stars were starting to twinkle in the indigo sky. A light breeze blew through Soarin's mane as he cantered across the emerald pasture. It rustled audibly through the leaves of the nearby orchards, and whistled pleasantly through the eves of the Apple family house as Soarin came upon the front stoop.

He looked around the living room, checked the kitchen, searched the den, then went up stairs. Apple Bloom wasn't in her room. He doubted he'd find her in AJ's or Big Mac's or Granny Smith's room, but he checked them anyway for the sake of being thorough.

"Kid?" he called out as he ambled along the second story hallway, the ancient hardwood floor creaking beneath him with every stride. Perhaps she was playing a game with him? He crept up to the hall closet and threw the door open. There were piles of bows and hats, but no cute little red headed fillies to be found. "Huh..."

He scratched his chin pensively, looking out from the stoop of the house. It was getting darker. The moon was now visible in the sky, full and pale as a ghost. Apple Bloom would be wanting dinner around this time, and they had even had a movie night planned together. Just him and her. She seemed pretty excited about it; Soarin doubted she would want to be late for that.

With worry beginning to set in, he turned the porch light on before he took off down the trail that led to town, should she come home while he was out looking for her. The dirt path was deserted, as it usually was around this time. It was heavily forested, and the thick canopy overhead allowed for scant light to shine through. Soarin wished he had brought his lantern, but he didn't feel like turning back.

Rarity promptly answered her door after three quick knocks. She blinked in surprise at Soarin, as he stood under the porch light of the carousel boutique. "Soarin, what can I do for you, darling? I just put on a pot of tea, would you like to come in?"

Soarin wasted no time with pleasantries. "Apple Bloom said something about hanging out with Sweetie Belle today. Is she here?"

"She was," Rarity replied.

"Was?" Soarin peeked over the unicorn's head and noticed Sweetie Belle in the front parlour. She was seated upon a plush couch, a comic book or some sort of graphic novel splayed out over her lap.

Rarity held the door open and once again offered, "You can come in, if you'd like."

Soarin ignored her. "Hey, kid," he called out to Sweetie.

The filly looked up from her book, her little green eyes blinking curiously. "Hey, whats up, Soarin?"

"Apple Bloom came by, didn't she? Do you know where she is?"

"Yeah, she was here most of the day. She left about two hours ago."

Two hours? Soarin felt a knot beginning to form in his stomach. Something was wrong. Apple Bloom was always so punctual about returning home before her curfew. He had hoped she had merely lost track of time at her friend's house, but now, he could see that that plainly wasn't the case.

"Is something the matter, darling?" Rarity came in. "Has Apple Bloom not come home?"

"No, she hasn't. She was suppose to be home by the time the street lights came on."

Rarity placed a concerned hoof over her mouth. "Oh, my... Would you like me to help you look for her?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure I'll find her. No offense, but my wings can cover a lot more ground than your hooves can."

Rarity and Sweetie Belle traded disquieted looks. "Well, it couldn't hurt if I at least asked around town," Rarity offered. "It isn't too late to knock on a few doors."

"I appreciate the help," Soarin said. "If you do manage to find her--"

"I'll bring her right home," Rarity assured. "I promise."

"Thanks." And then Soarin was off.

He flew over Ponyville, meticulously combing the sky in a grid formation as he scanned every road and alley, yet his attempts yielded no results. The search lasted for several hours, with Soarin growing more worried by the second. Where is that filly! he wanted to scream into the cloudless sky.

He eventually decided to head back to Sweet Apple Acres. Perhaps she made it home while he was out searching for her. If she wasn't at the house, he'd be back to comb the town a second time. He banked through the air until his muzzle was pointing toward the farm, and ripped through the sky like he had a demon on his heels, uttering swears and prayers along the way. When next he saw Apple bloom he vowed he would tie her up and lock her in the apple cellar until Applejack came home.

The house was pitch black, save for the porch light; that wasn't a good sign. He galloped up the stairs, clicking on every light switch along the way. "Apple Bloom, you home kid...?" No response, and she once again wasn't in any of the rooms.

Soarin cursed as he threw open the front door and took to the sky. He decided to check the tree house before he would return to town. With deft precision and break neck speed he weaved through the trees of the orchards. Flying over them would have been easier, but he wouldn't be able to see Apple Bloom through all the thick vegetation. He was concerned that he might pass her by and not even know it, so he opted to fly low.

Soarin swayed around thick sentinels, barrel rolled between boughs, skirted around thickets, and swooped under low hanging branches at speeds that left no margin for error, the trees zooming past his vision in greens and browns like runny colors on a canvas.

The wake of his speed slashed a trench through a pond's surface as he shot over it and, just then, the clearing where the treehouse was located was coming into view. The clearing... And something else. Something Soarin wasn't expecting. Around the base of the lofty oak, upon which the tree house sat, there was a pack of Timber Wolves eagerly clawing at the trunk, as if they were trying to scale it. It looked like they had been at it for a while, as the tree was rendered bare of its bark from its base to its upper stump. The sight was so queer Soarin forgot himself for a moment. That was, until he noticed the red ribbon caught between the wooden fangs of one of the creatures.

Apple Bloom's bow.... The color drained from Soarin's face.

"Soarin?" A voice suddenly called out to him.

"Kid?" Soarin looked into one of the windows of the tree house to see Apple Bloom's panic-stricken face. Despite the situation he was suddenly overcome with relief.

"Soarin!" the filly squealed, her eyes wide with a mixture of joy and terror. "You're here!"

"I'm coming, kid. Stay put." And Soarin flew to her.

"Stay put? Where the heck am Ah gonna go?"

The first thing the filly did when he landed on the deck was jump into his arms. She hugged onto Soarin so fiercely, he could feel his hollow Pegasus bones popping beneath that Earth Pony grip of hers. "Oh, Soarin!" she said, sobbing. "Ah'm so glad yer here!"

"I'm glad too, kid." Soarin freed up a hoof to affectionately ruffle her mane. "Don't you ever scare me like this again, you hear me? If I were to lose you, your sister would unscrew my head."

"Let's just get outta here. And make it quick-like!"

"Right," Soarin agreed. "Let's get you home." And with Apple Bloom in Soarin's arms he took off toward the homestead.

"They chased me while Ah was on the trail heading home," Apple Bloom explained as they were gliding through the air. The stars were bright, and the wind was crisp and cool. It had seemingly helped Apple Bloom to regain her faculties. Her tone was still tinged with anxiety as she regaled Soarin with the tale of her terrifying encounter, but she was beginning to calm down. "All Ah could do was make a run for the tree house. Ah still can't believe Ah made it."

"But why would a pack of timberwolves just come after you like that?"

"Ah don't know - it's like they were specifically lookin' for me."

Soarin sensed a headwind just above him. He adjusted his elevation, shifted the angle of his wings, then sailed smoothly along the gusty stream. Apple Bloom smiled and shut her eyes. "That breeze feels nice." And then she croaked as she added, "Feels like bein' alive."

"Hey, no more of that," Soarin said, though not unkindly. He cradled her head against his chest as he banked around a down draft that would have jostled him. The turbulence would have been easy enough for him to recover from, but in Apple Bloom's anxious state, it might have startled her.

The filly nuzzled against him. "Are we still gonna have our movie night?"

"You bet," Soarin promised her. It wasn't until she was nestled up to him when he caught a fragrance wafting off her mane. He absentmindedly sniffed at her.

"Soarin, do you really gotta ruin the moment by actin' all weird?"

"What is that?" Soarin said between sniffs. "You smell more... I don't know... 'Appley,' than usual."

The filly screwed up her face, but then she must have realized what it was Soarin was smelling. "Oh, you mean mah perfume? Yeah, Ah dabbed a bit behind mah ears before Ah went out today. You like it? Ah made it mahself."

"It's a little pungent, to be honest..." Soarin said thoughtfully. "Is that the same perfume you coated your lucky bow in before you lost it in the Everfree forest - you know, the same bow you were whining about over breakfast a while back?"

"It is," Apple Bloom replied. "Why do you ask?"

A sudden realization came over Soarin as he remembered the timberwolf with the red bow tangled between its wooden teeth. "I think those things found your bow for you, kid. Don't know if you noticed, but one of them had it in its mouth."

"But that still don't explain why--" The filly's eyes widened with realization. "Oh."

"Those things must have locked on to the scent of your perfume, when they discovered that bow you dropped," Soarin explained. "Look, I'm going to tell you something that you're probably not gonna want to hear, but, just to be safe, we should throw out the rest of that perfume of yours when we get back home. No good can come of you trotting around reeking of timberwolf bait. It couldn't hurt to take a bath, too; scrub that stuff off of you."

"Heck, you ain't gotta tell me twice!" Apple Bloom agreed.

Soarin smiled at that. The bright light from the front porch of the house was growing closer by the second, acting as a lighthouse amidst the darkness of the rural farm, guiding him and his passenger home.

The first thing Apple Bloom did when they returned home was scamper upstairs to take a thorough bath, as Soarin went out to get them food. It was too late to cook, and he figured Apple Bloom deserved a little treat to help her calm down after her harrowing encounter.

Soarin looked back from the pasture, to make sure she was okay. The second story window where the bathroom was located was lit, and it had already begun to steam over. When he was finally able to convince himself that she would be okay alone, he spread his wings and pushed on toward the town.

First order of business was tracking down Rarity, whom he had discovered almost immediately upon beginning his search. Her ivory coat reflecting the illumination from the street lamps on the side of the road made her easy to spot from the sky. "She was in her treehouse," was pretty much all he had divulged to her. No one needed to know about the business with the timberwolves, and what was more, he didn't need those details getting back to Applejack. That mare had a tendency to be overprotective of her little sister, to the point where it could be overbearing at times; hearing the truth of what had transpired that night would only serve to cause unnecessary grief.

Next order of business was food. Soarin wanted it to be ready for Apple Bloom the moment she got out of the tub. It was a good thing the hay burger was open twenty four-seven. With the top of the grease-stained fastfood bag rolled and clenched firmly between his teeth, he headed home with his and Apple Bloom's dinner.

---

Soarin pulled a blanket over Apple Bloom as she laid sprawled out on his couch, snoring soft, ladylike snores. She had made it to the halfway point of the second feature by the time she had dozed off. It was funny, she wasn't able to stay up nearly as long as she thought she could. It was understandable, all things considered. Her ordeal must have left her exhausted.

Soarin stretched. He was tired too. Not having the heart to wake Apple Bloom to send her to her room, as she probably didn't want to be alone anyway, he left her where she was and ascended the stairs to his loft.

The last thing he remembered was closing his eyes after he pulled his quilt up below his chin. He had fallen asleep in record time, and he was awake just as fast. He opened his eyes and sat up when he heard strange sounds coming from outside. His barn was dark, save for his neon clock and the pale rays of the full moon filtering in through the window just above his bed.

Soarin rolled out of bed and approached the threshold of his loft. Apple Bloom was still on the couch, but her eyes were wide open. There was a sudden low growl just outside the door, and the filly pulled her blanket up to her muzzle. "Soarin!" she whispered urgently.

"I'm here, kid," he replied, descending the stairs. "Just stay calm, okay?"

Apple Bloom clung to him. "Did those things follow us?"

"I don't see how they could have. I flew high, and I flew faster than they could follow."

"Well, they managed, some how."

There was a sniffing sound at the door. It became a whine, then another growl, then the creature on the other side of the oak started scratching at it.

Apple Bloom muffled a whimper as she buried her face in Soarin's chest.

Soarin detected a familiar scent in the filly's mane. "You said you took a bath!" he let out in a clenched whisper, perhaps a little harsher than he meant to.

The filly recoiled at his tone. "Ah did, Soarin. Ah swear! Ah even used mah.... Oh, no."

" 'Oh no,' what? What does 'oh, no' mean?"

"Promise you ain't gonna yell at me."

"I promise, now what's wrong?"

"Ah used... Ah used mah special apple-scented shampoo... Which Ah made - from the same ingredients Ah used to make the perfume."

"Why in tartarus would you do that?"

"The scent of the shampoo ain't as strong as the perfume," Apple Bloom whimpered. "Ah didn't think they'd be able to track me all the way from the forest."

Once they hone in on yer scent, they'll track ya down to the ends of the earth. Soarin remembered back to Applejack's cautionary words, and he was coming to realize just how true they were.

There was a sudden crash at the door. The creatures knew their prey was there, and they were eager to claim their prize.

"Kid, I'm not mad at you, okay?" Soarin said, in an attempt to calm the filly; she was already being accosted by eldritch oaken K9s, she didn't need the chastisement of an adult to compound her anxiety.

There was another crash. The entire structure shook under the impact. The door was starting to splinter inward.

Apple Bloom's grip around Soarin became tighter. "Let's just get out of here!"

And just as Soarin was about to agree the door gave, and the creatures from deep within the forest began to spill in. There were six of them in all, all of middling height with fearsome eyes wreathed in flames of jade.

Apple Bloom screamed. With no time to think, Soarin grabbed her and leaped over the back of the couch. He would have made for the upper deck but his path was blocked by one of the timberwolves, who had managed to swiftly circle around him in all the confusion.

Clever girl...

One of them snapped their jaws at him as he was trying to open his wings, and he was forced to instead jump back to put some distance between him and them. Soarin felt the wall behind him, and he knew he had been cornered. The creatures began to close in around him.

One of them sprang forth. With Apple Bloom wrapped in one arm, Soarin desperately reached back for something, anything he could get his hooves on. In the dark his hooves managed to find a long shaft hanging from a peg. My scythe! he realized. Thank Celestia he had the habit of hanging it back up after every use.

It was like it was all happening in slow motion, his body seamlessly moving on its own. There was one quick slash. The blade flashed in the rays of moonlight shining down on them through his loft's window. With a shower of mulch and splinters the timberwolf gave out a whimper as its two halfs collided with the floor.

Striking down the aggressor had opened a gap in the creatures' ranks. Soarin had to be fast. He threw Apple Bloom on his back. "Hold on!" was the only directive he had time to give before he burst into a sprint. The wolves tried to close in on him, but they were too slow. Soarin opened his wings, and with the filly on his back, and his scythe clutched tightly in the crook of his foreleg, he leaped up to his loft.

The timberwolves made for the stairs in pursuit.

"What are we gonna do now?" Apple Bloom whined.

Soarin looked around until he spotted the window above the headboard of his bed.

"Yer not thinkin'..." Apple Bloom said.

The timberwolves had cleared the stairs and were now heading straight toward them. There were two that remained on the floor level, possibly to prevent an escape through the front entrance. The beasts were as intelligent as they were persistent, it seemed.

"Yep!" Soarin said, and with no other option to his disposal, he made for the window. They bounded off his bed and smashed through the glass. He tried to open his wings to take flight, but just as he did he was seized by a sharp, debilitating pain, and gravity pulled them tumbling to the grass below. He let go of his scythe and protectively embraced the screaming filly, so that he would take the brunt of gravity's wrath when they met with the ground. All the air went out of him, but he fought his way back up to his hooves. Soarin managed to retrieve his scythe before flipping Apple Bloom onto his back and making a mad dash for the house. The adrenaline was in him now, the blood pumping hot like liquid fire in his veins. Pain no longer existed in his mind; Apple Bloom was his first and last priority.

"Soarin!" Apple Bloom was gasping. "Yer wing!"

Soarin refused to look at it. He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted. "Did you throw out that perfume of yours?" he grunted, the haft of his scythe clinched tightly between his teeth as they sped toward the house. He could already hear the timberwolves hot on his trail.

"The perfume? No, not yet. It's corked in an airtight container, so Ah figured Ah could just dispose of it tomorrow."

"Where is it?"

"It's in mah bedroom, in the bottom drawer beneath mah vanity mirror, but why?"

"I have a plan," Soarin lied. He didn't know the answer to the question himself. At this point he was playing this by ear. The only thing he knew for sure was that he had to keep moving.

They burst through the front entrance to the house, and just as Soarin was finished securing all the locks on the door, there was a crash on the other side. Soarin was so startled he nearly tripped over his hooves, but he was quick to regain his composure.

He turned and took Apple Bloom up the stairs as quickly as he could. He could feel how tightly her little hooves were gripping the back of his mane, and he knew she was terrified. The sensation of her nearly ripping the hair out from the back of his head hurt, but the mad desperation of their situation made the pain easy to ignore.

The thudding and slamming against the front door grew louder and increasingly more violent as Soarin dug threw Apple Bloom's vanity. "Is this it?"

Apple Bloom looked at the bottle. "It is, but Ah still don't get--" and then her face went milk-white as the front door down stairs was heard being smashed in, immediately followed by rapid, clamorous wood-on-wood steps flying up the stairs.

There wasn't enough time to think. Soarin looked at the bottle, and he knew what he had to do. Perhaps a smarter stallion would have thought of a better idea, but Soarin was seldom praised for his intellect. He uncorked the vessel and upended its contents over his head, soaking himself in the pungent, sickly sweet perfume. It was so strong, it almost made him gag.

Apple Bloom's eyes went wide with incomprehension. "Why would--"

Soarin didn't let her finish her sentence. There simply wasn't enough time. "Barricade your door," was his parting words before he left her, slamming her door behind him. The timberwolve's eyes glowed hungrily in the darkness of the hallway. They sniffed, then bared their fangs.

No turning back now. Satisfied that he was now their priority, Soarin turned and retreated to Granny Smith's room at the end of the hall, scythe in hoof. He charged through her door, slamming it behind him as he went. The creatures could immediately be heard scratching at the other side. Soarin opened Granny's window, popped off the screen, and utilizing the agility and timing he had honed through over a decade of Wonderbolt training, he touched down with his hind legs and rolled smoothly off of his shoulder. His momentum brought him deftly to his hooves, where he transitioned seamlessly into a sprint. In the back of his mind Soarin made a mental note to thank Spitfire for dragging him to all those emergency landing lessons when he was in the academy.

He continued to run, even as he heard them gaining on him bound-by-bound. He dared a quick back glance and noticed the smallest one in the group was gaining on him. He skidded to a halt, turned, prepared to engage. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. It was all he could do to keep his nerves from rattling his hooves. Soarin had never done a thing like this before. He had never so much as been in a fight before, now that he thought of it.

The timberwolf rapidly closed the distance between them. Poised, Soarin drew back his scythe. They're no different from trees, he tried to convince himself. The creature was a stone's throw from him when Soarin's muscles tightened. He breathed, focused, then swung.

All the life seemed to go out of the creature when its headless body hit the ground.

Soarin looked down in disbelief at what he had done. It was so easy, he would have laughed, if not for the fact that there were five more coming after him... Wait, five? That seemed odd to him. He was never the best at math, but something about that was off. There were originally six, and he had taken out two so far...

He then backed away as the body of the timberwolf he had just beheaded began to warble. Tendrils of green light seeped from the stump of its neck. The light connected body and head, pulling them back together. The green flames in its eye sockets once again came alive.

"Nope!" Soarin turned and ran.

It lasted for what seemed like forever, this seemingly perpetual battle. Soarin was nearly exhausted to the point of frothing at the mouth, but no matter how many pieces he would cut these creatures into, they would always manage to reamalgamate their parts and resume their attack. He had hoped that there was perhaps a limited amount of times they could rejuvenate, but his theory thus far had been folly. For the thousand-thousandth time that night, he retreated, engaged the one that was farthest from the rest of the group, in order to prevent them from surrounding him, and he would repeat. It was an effective strategy, but an exhausting one.

Two of them managed to catch up to him at once. Desperate, Soarin drove his blade through the smaller one's chest, swung him around, them sent him reeling into the larger one. They went sprawling to the ground in a bristling ball of thrashing wooden limbs, and before the could untangle themselves, Soarin was on them, swinging, hacking, slashing them in as many pieces as he possibly could.

"Stay.... Down...." Soarin huffed in exasperation. He looked up and realized the other four were dangerously close to him. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" he cried out as he retreated, realizing that he was no longer able to keep up the pace at which he had been going. He was taking back the presumption that this was easy. He attempted to spread his wings, but the pain in doing so overwhelmed him to the point of spots entering his vision. He still hadn't had the opportunity to get a good look at his wing since he had jumped through his barn window. There were shards of glass in it, that much he knew. Something may have been broken as well, from the way he had landed, but he couldn't be too sure, and he couldn't let that distract him now.

Soarin was skirting the edge of the pasture, where the open field met the orchards, and he noticed the other two timberwolves he had just felled rejoining the chase. With his energy approaching its limit, and his hope of surviving the encounter all but evaporated, he decided to turn around and give it all he had. Perhaps he was insane for trying the same thing over, and over, and over again, and hoping for a different result, but he was too exhausted to think of anything else.

Soarin skidded to a halt, turned, poised. There was a single cloud in the sky blocking the moon light, rendering the field all but pitch black. It was a good thing timberwolves' eyes glowed, or else they'd be invisible in the darkness. Still, it made Soarin wish he had his lantern, but it was back in the barn...

A metaphorical light bulb suddenly clicked on over Soarin's head.

"My lantern!" Soarin slashed wildly at the four wolves in front of him the moment they were within reach of his scythe, temporarily turning their bodies to mulch. They wouldn't be down for long, a lesson he knew all too well. He then bounded toward his barn with a new sense of hope renewing his vigor.

My lantern! Fire! They're made out of wood! Why didn't I think of it before?

Two more timberwolves headed him off in the field and blocked his path.

"Out of my way!" Soarin slashed at the first one and lopped its jaw off just as it was baring its fangs. His intention was to behead it, but with his dwindling stamina he miscalculated the swing. The other made a lunge toward him, but he managed to get his scythe up just in time, and the creature's jaws closed down on nothing but haft. Soarin shoved him away with all his might, then let loose with a lightening fast flurry of three quick slashes, quartering it. His attention went back to the first one, slapping it viciously upside its jawless wooden skull with the flat of his blade, sending its head twisting until it popped off its neck with an audible snap. Its cranium rolled to the ground, and its body followed immediately after. Soarin then resumed his sprint to the barn, stepping over the piles of kindling that once was and what will again be his attackers.

He loped over the busted door, ascended the stairs to his loft, then groped around for the lantern on his bedstand, but it was nowhere to be found. That was when he looked down, as he felt his hoof brush against something metallic on the floor. "Bingo!" He gave the flint knob a twist, but there were no sparks. "What the..." He tried it again, over and over, panic rising within him with each failed attempt. He held it closer to better inspect it in the darkness. He could feel something wet at its base. He gave it a sniff, and he realized the liquid was oil. During the scuffle that had taken place in his barn earlier his lantern must have gotten knocked off his bedstand. It was cracked, and leaking oil, and the knob's mechanism was broken. "You have got to be friggen kidding me..."

He looked up at the pairs of glowing eyes stepping in through the entrance of his barn. Cursing, Soarin clenched the handle of his broken lantern and he leapt out the already broken window, hoping against hope that it could somehow still be of some use.

Running, dashing, dodging and fighting, Soarin's exhaustion was getting worse, and the pain in his wing was growing more debilitating by the second. It had gotten to the point where just running was an all but insurmountable task. The skirmish had eventually made its way to the side of the Apple family house. Soarin swung at one of the wolves, missed, and the blade glanced off the iron handle of the water pump, spraying a shower of sparks. The wolves leaped back with panicked yelps at the site of the tiny embers.

Soarin's eyes, glazed from exhaustion, went to the pump, to his scythe, to his lantern, and back to the timberwolves. The gears in his head started to turn. He took advantage of the short time he was granted to douse his blade with the remaining bit of oil from the lantern's reservoir, and then he discarded the broken brass relic. He placed the flat of the blade against the iron handle of the pump, and he firmly swiped it along its surface. There was another shower of sparks, but no fire.

It seemed as if the wolves were no longer phased by Soarn's light show. He was surrounded, his back against the house as they closed in all around him. This was what they had been trying to do all night: Tire him out to the point where he'd make a mistake and allow himself to be cornered or surrounded. It was a classic pack hunting strategy, and they had finally done it. If this idea of Soarin's didn't work... "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" He struck the pump handle again, and again, and again, until finally the blade lit up with an audible whoof.

Soarin slashed in a wide one hundred and eighty degree arc. The timberwolves evasively jumped back, but he managed to catch the slowest of them, who went up like a desiccated pine tree upon the burning blade's contact. The beast howled like nothing Soarin had ever heard, before it went berserk on him. The flames that were now bathing the attacking timberwolf's body licked and singed soarin's fur as he kept the attacker at bay with the haft of his scythe. He was slammed violently against the house as the wolf pressed its attack. Its desperate assault, however, seemed to grow weaker by the second, until its legs finally began to crack from the heat, and eventually gave out from under it. The creature gave one last horrible screech. The sound was like a freaking banshee in heat. But then, the jade green flames that were its eyes faded, it went slack, and the thing was no more than a pile of blazing kindling, the flames eagerly consuming every inch of its body.

Wasting no time, Soarin rushed forward and did the same to the other five timberwolves, setting them ablaze with one accurate slash of his scythe. They too went mad when the flames engulfed them, and they chased him around the house. Soarin rounded a corner, skirted another, and made for the pasture. The grass was moist and it wouldn't burn easily, he knew. This was where he could finally finish this.

He stopped and turned once he was at the center of the field, where the soil beneath the grass was the mushiest with all the accumulated night moisture. By the time the timberwolves caught up to him, two more of them must have yielded their lives to the flames, as there were now only three. Two less to deal with, Soarin wasn't about to complain.

Soarin buried his blade in the head of the first one, levered the shaft down, then wrenched its skull free from the rest of its body. Soarin gave his blade a flick, which popped its impaled head up in the air, and when gravity pulled it back down he struck it with the flat of his blade like a big league hitter on home plate. The flaming head was sent arching through the night sky like a shooting star.

The other managed to lunge on top of him, but Soarin hefted the haft of his blade just in time as they went down together, which provided him just enough space to bring up his hind legs to give the beast a kick that sent him rolling over his head. The timberwolf left behind a trail of burning bits as it tumbled, flipped, and rolled, until it was nothing but an immolated torso.

Soarin only had enough time to raise the butt of his scythe as the last one attempted to leap onto him. The creature impaled itself on the shaft. Soarin then swung shaft and timberwolf over his head in a vertical arch, slamming the creature on the ground with all his might. The wolf's body exploded into flaming pieces upon impact, and he knew that it would not be getting back up.

Soarin looked around and waited. Once he was sure he was no longer in danger he buried his burning blade into the moist soil beneath him, putting it out with a strident hiss. And then he allowed himself to slump to the ground. It's over... Thank Celestia, hallelujah, and peanut butter...

He rolled over, onto his good wing, and he finally allowed himself a peek at his injury. The finger bone at the edge of his wing protruded grotesquely from the feathers, and gleaming in the moonlight were innumerable shards of jagged glass that had been embedded in the flesh. "Not flying on that for a while," Soarin commented. He was smiling for some reason.

Soarin lowered his head and allowed his eyes to close. Just a quick rest, he promised himself. And then I'll go into town and find a doctor, or a medic, or something... Just... A quick... And then he was snoring.

A light breeze was blowing through the pasture, and the only sound for the longest time was that of the orchards rustling in the wind.

Comments

[MazingerZ]

Yay, an update

[Sipioc]

Dude! I totally forgot you wrote this! I gotta get caught up!

[PonyFan4927]

Wonder which of AJ's emotions will be stronger when she finds her injured coltfriend; her anger at Apple Bloom for indirectly leaving him in this state or her concern for his injuries?

[Snow123]

Whew... Well, there goes any career as a flyer, being pessimistic for Soarin's sake... He's probably pessimistic too. :P

[Vailen]

8965270
Both more then likely

[Synesisbassist]

Awesome to see this continued! Excitedly waiting for more!

[SageBrony07]

Intense chapter.
I don't think it will be either 8965270

She will be grateful to Soarin for saving Bloom, but she will want to kill Soarin for nearly getting himself killed. I'm happy about this update.

[Venlin]

Yes it's back.

[Fusion Blaster]

8965111
Dude if you're gonna give the author grief do it right... I mean comment about how he didn't reupdate the previous chapter 5 times before finallly putitng this one up. I mean man come on have some tact

Sersioualy though Glad to see the new chapter and it was a hellva ride I wasn't epecting this to happen. Good stuff. I eagerly await the next one.

[Hawksfive]

fuck I loved this chapter that I read it twice welp maybe in 2019 we will see the conclusion there

[TheMyth]

Soarin, the Timber Reaper... that was awesome

[Iamsorry]

whoa!
this was awesome! i cannot wait to see what happens next!

[Boomstick Mick]

8975648
"Husband Material"

That might be a good name for a sequel or a spinoff in which Soarin decides to pop the question.

[Captain Unstoppable]

Amazing chapter! I don't know why I didn't get an update for this!

[Boomstick Mick]

8976586
Huh... Are you still subbed?

[Griseus]

8965562 I didn't expect this story update either. :)

[Late Registrator]

Well that was different. Not sure the good kind either

[ForestTrails482]

Loved the Jurassic Park reference.