Guardians Of The Helms

by Baconkatz

Chapter 4

"Fate has a funny way of dragging us down with itself. Wouldn't you say?" Bear Claw said, blowing the smoke from the embers of the great red wood through the pipe again, coloring the air with a puff of deep red.

Sharp Wit didn't look up, he could smell the red wood, could probably find the exact tree it came from. He was concentrated on the smallest pup of the litter, a white mane like his own and soft tan coat.

Her eyes were closed, and she was mewling with the rest of the newborns, and yet he couldn't raise his gaze from her, his littlest daughter.

"Alpha Bear Claw," Sharp Wit said, finally looking up, "What do you need me to do?" He asked, if it meant protecting the smallest pup, he would do it.

Bear Claw smiled, a soft hum as she blew the smoke once again. “It's simple,” she said her sharp teeth glowing in the candle light, “Find the pony who has been taking leaves from the glowing willows, and kill them.” She said it as if it was the easiest thing in the world. But Sharp Wit knew just by the flick of her tail, the ones she sent before didn't do it.

Either they were killed or severely injured.

Sharp Wit didn't feel like asking which it was. He was a tracker in the village, hardly the best, why Bear Claw had come to him while looking at his newest pup was a mystery. Why not go to the far superior female Hunters? Especially if others had failed before.

Perhaps to find a pony with enough drive not to die. To specifically grab Sharp Wit when he just met his newborn pup, a clever move on her part. Unless she had an ulterior motive, since the Breeding happened not too long ago.

The Breeding was the time when all the males went into heat, to compensate willing females met up anonymously with the males and agreed to mate. The males rarely knew who their partner was, but the females always knew. Traditionally if the female likes what they felt and saw they would approach them after and ask them to help her raise the pups.

Sharp Wit wasn't hurt by the fact the one who smelled of citrus whom he spent a night with in a dark room hadn't approached him after. He was a rather plain pony, quite, aggressive, dry, nothing important. It could've been the fact that she only gave birth to one pup, maybe she was too embarrassed.

Traditionally a litter consisted of more than four pups, the biggest one was fourteen. To only give birth to one, that was nothing a mare could brag about, it showed infertility and their lack of maternal instinct.

To find one pup to call his own and the mother nowhere in sight wasn't as uncommon as it would sound, it was actually more common especially if they didn't like what they had. A win for a win, and right now, he had a mission he needed to complete.

Bowing his head to his Alpha, he left the hut, and stuck his nose to the air, crackling fires of cherry wood and the off smell of cooking meat filled the air, he walked away and towards the glowing willows.

The glowing willows have been the burial site for the Hunters for generations, decades before the Tainted and before the discovery of the other species. Before earth gypsys.

Earth Gypsies were wicked ponies, at least that's what Sharp Wit had been told by alphas betas and omegas alike. And he couldn't exactly deny them, he's seen the parts of the forests where war had broken out between Hunters and Earths, he had seen the veterans from those battles. He had read the scrolls that told of a time where Hunters were used like dogs, kept as pets, forced to fight each other, or used to hunt for sport.

But no matter what, no matter how deep Sharp Wit dug, Hunters have never won. Time and time again Earth Gypsies had
Won, through stubbornness, through numbers, and through dark magic.

Sharp Wit shivered at the thought, fallen leaves crunched under his hooves as he ducked under hanging ivy. The only reason Hunters were kept around were because of their use to the Earth gypsies, and when they got tired of them they tossed them to the side and let them grown on their own.

Of course, little factions of Gypsies would come now and again, singing the songs of a forgotten tongue and stealing away newborns and adults alike before disappearing into the night. Not a trace to be found.

Sharp Wit stopped by the stone fence that surrounded the glowing willows. He brushed his cheek against a smooth stone next to the opening, worn down by other Hunters doing the same, marking their scent.

Sharp Wit took a deep breath before stepping into the forest, he shivered as his senses were filled with an eerie cold and soft wordless whispers of the dead. The lilac and soft pink glowing leaves of the willows gave the fog a ghastly glow as it rolled around the trees.

He hated this part. His senses were dulled in this place, replaced by a false sense of security, that sickly sweet feeling of being among family, the heat brushing over his body like the waves of the fire from his den.

That was the lure of this place, the importance of it. Sharp Wit learned long ago that staying in this forest for more than a day would shut your body down completely. This feeling of awareness was dulled, the feeling that you could sleep was a lure only the dead could enjoy.

His tail flicked in annoyance, nicking a tree in accident leaving a shallow cut in the bark. He winced as the almost watery sap slowly crawled down the bark, he could smell its sickly sweet scent beckoning him closer, and closer, and closer yet.

But he managed to ignore and continue on.

Sharp Wit noticed several things as he made a round through the grove, several branches had been snapped off of several glowing willows, quite recently as the sap still dropped from the broken edges like a toxic tonic.

But that was all, no wide hoof prints in the earth, not a trace of fur or mane left. The culprit was a ghost among spirits, and it made Sharp Wits stomach do an angry flip, he hated losing a lead. But there was no lead to be found, and that just made him angrier.

Then there was a whistle.

Sharp Wits ears tracked it to its origin immediently, turning quickly he saw a cream colored earth gypsy sitting in a tree like a lounging puma. She had an ugly cow colored pattern over her entire body, the patches a dark tan color. Even her hair was a quite awful color, a dark pine green, more of a swampy green at this point.

“Hey there,” She crooned in a sweet voice like the sap from the willows, she gracefully stood up and jumped down. Sharp Wit expected a noise when she landed, but when she touched the ground it was utterly silent, as if she wasn’t there at all. That made him take a step back in surprise, his eyes narrowing at her, his fur bristled up as he growled.

She laughed at him as if he was a puppy, “Oh my, what a brave boy.” She said patting the top of his head, he wanted to bite her hoof but he found he couldn’t, feeling a drop of liquid on his nose he knew why, she was using magic to keep him still. “They never taught you how we had to evolve to avoid your hunting did they? We have no scent, we leave no prints, our hearts make no noise nor does the rest of us.” She leaned down so Sharp Wit could get a good smell of her breeding gland on her neck, nothing.

Sharp Wit felt his heart drop, this was a suicide mission from the start. No wonder the Alpha sent him out, she wanted to save the best, she wanted to deter her at least, so she gave her the males.

The earth gypsy laughed, “Oh my, what a look of defeat on your face.” She said releasing him from her magic as she backed up, “Go back to your tribe if you want,” she said, “Orrrr, you can chase me, after all bringing home a silent killer would be a very good way to raise your reputation.” She said before running off silently.

Sharp Wit watched her skeptically, he should just go home, tell Alpha Bear Claw he scared her off and go back to his newest pup.

But at the same time, he hated losing a lead. Especially when they just gave him a challenge to go with it, he didn’t care about reputation, but he did care about bringing that sick mare down.

He flicked his tail, before following after the earth gypsy.