What Have I Done?

Chapter 1

I ran through the forest. I had done it many times before, so I knew exactly where I was. The moon shone light through the trees above me, and every now and then, a red farm could be seen through the gaps in the trunks. It was my favorite part of the forest. Even if it was far from my home. My family often never even noticed I had gone, they never truly noticed my presence at all. And I had no friends. I could come here and think about my life. About all the things I had done. It was relaxing, and I often returned home clear of conscience, and with a firm mindset as to how I would continue with my life. I slowed down, growing tired from my run. I stopped to catch my breath, and stared at the moon. Thinking as always, if I could go back, and do something differently, would I? This was a thought that always plagued my mind. I haven't done many things that I regret. But all of them I regretted greatly. I had just about seen the worst one could. It was hard to surprise me, and I thought I was prepared for it all. I couldn't have been more unprepared for the next week of my life.

As I sat thinking, I heard a sound nearby. A hoofstep. A pony was nearby, who it was I didn't know. As i said, i don't have any friends, and I often try to avoid talking with my family. They're more knowledgeable about the towns inhabitants. I wasn't even sure of it's name. Ponyville I believe. Regardless, the pony was getting closer. It was moving rather slowly, so it was probably old. A smile spread across my face, well, as much as my features allowed me to smile. You might be wondering what I mean by that. Well I'm a timberwolf in case you haven't figured it out. Anyways, back to the matter at paw. Being a predator, an old pony means an easy meal. I crouched down low, listening for the pony's exact position. Once I was fairly certain I knew where it was I pounced. Come to find out I was a little off, so I ended up just maiming the pony, instead of quickly ending it's life painlessly.

That was something I always attempted to strive for. I didn't like my prey to suffer, I was no monster like some of my family. If I couldn't make a kill without causing fear or pain, then I moved on. Unfortunately for this pony, I missed. As I turned to the form that lay dying on the ground, I could see that it was a mare, pale green in color with a white mane. The image on it's flank was a round crust. I believed it was called a pie, though I couldn't be sure. As I looked at her eyes, I saw that she looked at peace. As if she had come out to the woods expecting death. I was about to finish her off when something stopped me. Namely, her looking at me with a smile on her face. This surprised me quite a bit, as far as I knew, we wolves didn't smile at death. But perhaps these ponies found some manner of twisted glory in death. What surprised me even more than the smile however, was that she spoke, and I could understand her.

"Never thought it would be a timberwolf that fine'ly did me in. But I s'pose that's the irony of life. I don' know if ye can understand me, but I jus' wanna say thank ye, and that I fergive ye. I only hope my granbabies don' hafta see their ol' Granny Smith like this. It would break their hearts. I wonder if'n my husbands waitn' fer me." The frail mare gave a contented sigh, and then died right in front of me.

As I said prior, I'm no monster, and her words stung. As the regret filled my heart, I thought of a way to possibly make it up to her and her grandpups... er, grandfoals I think? Whatever, proper grammar wasn't important at the moment. I gently picker her up in my jaws, and carried her towards the barn.

I stopped halfway there, set the mare down, and began to dig a hole. After I had finished digging what appeared to be an ample sized hole, I gingerly set the mare inside. I turned around and started recovering the hole with the dirt I had displaced to create it. I figured this much would be the same in pony rituals. What I did next however, did not run along with any other creatures burying ritual, for timberwolves are the only ones capable of doing it. I turned my head and selected the broadest piece of bark from my hide, and set it into the ground at the head of the grave. With a claw, I expertly carved the words 'Here lies 'Granny Smith'' and down below that, I etched a crude picture of myself, and the words 'I'm sorry'.

I pulled back from the graveboard, and sat solemnly on my haunches. I truly was sorry. The mares words till echoed in my head 'I fergive ye'. It stung, to think that I took the life a creature so kind from this world. That her friends and family would never be able to see her again. And all they would know of her death was that she walked into the forest that night, and she was killed by a timberwolf. I cried as rain began to pour, my tears mixing with the rainwater on my snout.

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I must have cried for a while, because the clouds above began to lighten, and I could tell that it was morning. My assurance came when I heard a rooster crowing somewhere closer to the barn. Something in the back of my mind told me to leave, but my body didn't respond. I was still feeling far to guilty for what I had done. As I sat, I began to wonder if I would be capable of moving from that spot before any of Granny Smith's family came outside. Part of me wished that I wouldn't. I wanted to be punished, I should be punished. I had suppressed my instincts long ago so I could think clearly. It wasn't easy, and I was shunned because I didn't act like the rest of my pack-mates. I heard a door open, the sound coming from the barn. Still I remained frozen in place, the tears still coming out of my eyes, the rain still falling around me. My head hung low, I barely caught the glimpse of an orange pony next to the barn. I could hear it calling out to the mare who's life I had just ended. I looked up slightly, and locked eyes with the orange pony, who I could now tell was a mare. We stared at each other, her frozen in fear, me in passive acceptance that the residents of the barn now knew that I was here. She took off back towards her home, and I returned to my sulking.

After a few more minutes, the orange mare returned, this time with a larger red form accompanying her. I still did not move. My front legs began to grow weary, so I lay down as the large red one slowly approached. Whatever it did to me, I would accept it without a fight. I turned my eyes away from the grave to look at it, a large red male. He had a rope in his mouth. So, they've decided not to kill me. Keep me as a pet perhaps? A zoo exhibit? I had heard about zoos, they are said to be almost enjoyable. You get food, and none of the ponies are trying to kill you. Though you are constantly stared at. Still, it did not matter to me, I was resigned to whatever they would do to me. The large colt was mere feet away now, and was preparing to jump on me, most likely to tie me up with the rope. I didn't feel like having his weight crush me, so I rolled onto my back, to show him I meant no harm. He jumped back slightly at the sudden movement, and seemed stunned for a moment. I could tell he still didn't get it. I stood, walked slowly towards him, my head still hung low, and sat directly in front of him, blinking a few tears from my eyes.

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Big Mac was unsure as to what the hay was happening. He was shocked when his sister had woke him up, saying that there was a timberwolf in the yard. He hurried out to the sight of the wolf siting in front of what appeared to be a grave. Who the grave was for he didn't know, but he knew that the timberwolf seemed rather un-menacing. As he approached, the wolf lay down, and looked at him for a brief moment, before turning onto it's back. He jumped back at the unexpected move, not sure of what the wolf was doing. He stood there for a moment, before the wolf rolled back over, stood up and began to walk towards him slowly. The wolf's head and tail where both low, and it seemed almost like a scolded dog. This raised more suspicion than fear in Mac, so he simply stood there, waiting to see what the wolf would do next. It stopped in front of him, sat down, and blinked what looked like tears out of it's eyes. Big Mac was completely stunned. He jaw dropped, and the rope fell out of his mouth. he walked around the wolf, curios as to the grave. What he read on the graveboard, which he assumed came from the wolf, shocked him the most of all. It read, in perfect Equestrian, 'Here lies 'Granny Smith'' and below that was a picture of a wolf, and the words 'I'm Sorry'. He turned his head towards the wolf, not sure if he should feel angry or confused. He settled on both. He walked towards the wolf again, stopping in front of it. He looked it over a few times, and did find that there was a bit of blood still on its fangs. An idea came to him, a crazy idea, but one that was still worth trying.

"Can you... can you understand me?"

The wolf nodded its head in response.

"Where, you the one that... k-killed Granny?"

Again, the wolf nodded its head.

"Is that why you're cryin'?"

Another nod.

"Can you, speak?"

"Yes." The wolf's voice came out smooth and somewhat deep.

"Then you can answer this question, why did you bury her?"

The wolf recounted what had happened, explaining what Granny Smith had said, and the guilt he felt afterwards. Big Mac was still unsure of what to think. One thing was clear though, AJ and Apple Bloom would need their friends to help them through this loss.

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