• Published 19th Feb 2017
  • 10,374 Views, 621 Comments

Bushkeeper - Odd_Sarge



A hiker strays a little too far from the trail. Consequently, he's just discovered the hike of a lifetime.

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41 - Their Home Was Built

There was a lot one could do in a year, but the Keeper found it simply unfathomable just how much a herd could accomplish in the same time-frame.

Andrew had secured the perfect position to watch over his ponies as they toiled over the fields planted months ago. It had been an arduous journey to find crops that could feed the ponies, but the discovery of some sort of alfalfa reinforced the supply of wheat already native to the area. From what the faces of the ponies told him, Mint and Storm made a mean groat porridge.

The young man was shaken from his reverie by a flurry of splashes in the river below. He trudged down to the bank and waited patiently. The trap sprung easily as Andrew removed the net’s anchor. Discarding the stick, he rushed into the river, pulled the net shut, and dragged it onto the shore. Inside, a great deal of sunfish—and even a catfish—floundered.

Smiling to himself as he worked, he carefully placed a few of the sunfish and the lone catfish in his basket and released the rest. The net trap found its way back in the river, secured by the stick, and primed for the next morrow. Satisfied, Andrew made his way back to the village.

While there was no immediate need for a wall anymore, the Keeper had found it crucial to maintain a perimeter for their village. In fact, the wall had been doubled in size, with the cracks in its armor reinforced by the earth ponies’ mud brick. The area it covered now was vast, but Andrew felt it would expand even further in the coming months. The entrance popped out at the human as he approached, for a chaotic blur of working and playing ponies zipped past every now and then. As he approached, he was suddenly surprised by the appearance of Lemon.

The unicorn whined at him; it was a sound filled with terror.

His eyes wide, Andrew hurried after Lemon's retreat into the compound.

At the sight of Lemon's terrors, Andrew laughed with relief. The unicorn was not pleased with the reaction.

Someone had let a bear in, and they had also given the foals complete reign over its body. The brown grizzly was overwhelmed by the amount of
pony foals as it lay on its back, eyes closed as it tried its best to soak in the noon-day sun. Andrew ruffled Lemon's mane—once more to much
pony displeasure—and approached the bear. The foals immediately scattered at the sight of the Keeper, sounding off with playful shrieks and shouts as they dispersed. The grizzly's eyes cracked open, and after spotting the human, it rolled over and stood stretching.

"Visiting our little village, huh? Well, it's good that you happened by right now. I think I owe you something for what you did for me a long while back." Setting the basket down, he withdrew the large catfish and held it up. "For the two fish I owed ya. It's the least I could do."

Flashing him a smile, the bear took the offered fish and settled back down. It let out a content grunt. As soon as Andrew was gone, the brown mass was once more surrounded by foals who took no mind to the grizzly's meal.

Lemon joined the human as he made his way over to one of the newest buildings. It was still in progress, as evident by the multiple unicorns hard at work, but the mud-brick hut was coming together. Near the old den, the first building—a small silo connected to a larger hut—had been where much of the village's cooking and food storage was centered; it had also been designed by Andrew. This time, the yellow unicorn had taken charge of architecture, and the Keeper found it quite the ambitious project; it was much larger, and even had plans for a sloped roof. While he had done much to learn the visual and auditory signs to better understand his ponies, he still had yet to discover what exactly was so exciting about the building. He figured he would find out when the time was right.

Leaving Lemon behind, the Keeper made his way over to the food hut with his basket of fish. The tantalizing scent of porridge lingered around the building. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Mint emerged from the hut. She wore a wide grin as she nuzzled Andrew; he responded by drawing a free hand through her mane. After a moment, Storm's head popped out of the doorway.

"I hope you guys don't mind if I hijack your kitchen for a little bit."

Mint let out a little whuff and turned back. Storm gave a tired smile to Andrew and stepped aside to allow them entry.

The village kitchen was a quaint place; however primitive it was, memories of learning to cook alongside ponies had cemented the place as one dear to the teenager's heart. As he went to work preparing a fish with one of the stone knives, the two mares returned to splitting their grains and eyeing the clay pot on the fire. It was a soft and quiet environment, filled with the aroma of fish, the crackle of simmering oats, and the warm touch of the fire pit. It was tranquil enough for Andrew to fall asleep, but he held himself high; the work wasn't over, not by a long shot.

Night happened upon him quickly. A common occurrence at the village now were great nightly gatherings. Food was plenty, and the atmosphere was thick with joy and peace. It kept spirits up, provided a time of respite for the ponies who'd worked long and hard through the day, and more importantly, was a tradition created by them. The Keeper was very proud of his ponies, and they too were proud of themselves. Together, they talked and played long into the night, dimming the outer fires until they all surrounded one central fire in union. Sometimes, a group of deer would arrive to bask in the glow of the great bonfire, but as of late, a new group had begun appearing.

The eastern equines had been adverse to approaching the village, but the pony-tended fires were too much of a curiosity for them to resist. At first, they had sent in a few mares from their herd to investigate. Then came the stallions. Soon enough, the foals of the east were brought to the Greenland Village.

A gradual hum began to wave through the ponies on this night, and Andrew stopped talking to listen. A warm glow enveloped him; it was an intimately familiar feeling, one he'd last experienced with the carved tooth that still sat in the den. It was a song, and all the ponies had begun to sing softly in the night. Like a wolf's howl, the meaning was lost to the human, but tonight he no longer felt mystified.

With words from between worlds, the Keeper sang the ponies' song.