The hunter becomes... the hunter.
His eyes slid open, and he was immediately blinded by the gleaming sun. The clouds had cleared, and with them the rain. He felt tired, exhausted even. Sleep beckoned him, yet he felt obliged to stay awake. He could vaguely recall the ghostly voice which had called to him in the darkness, drawing him closer to a mysterious light before pushing him back into the eerie darkness. A hazy brown figure drifted in front of him and examined him curiously with glowing yellow eyes. The blurred creature nudged him in a concerned manner.
"Are... are you alright?" it spoke. He recognized it almost immediately as the voice he had heard calling to him from the dark in his dream, or limbo, or whatever the hell that was. He blinked his vision clear and shook his head vigorously to clear his mind of its drowsiness. The blur focused, and what it revealed almost made his heart stop.
The curved face of a female timber wolf loomed above him, its snout mere inches away from his. The soft gust of her breath swept across his mug as she sighed in relief. "Well, at least you're awake," she said with a sheepish smile. "For a moment I thought you might actually be dead."
He stared at her with a despondent, shell-shocked expression, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was speaking. A long, pregnant silence filled the air as he gawked at her, almost unable to comprehend the fact that he was alive. He had fallen into the river, he had been dragged across the sharp rocks of the rapids, for gods sakes, he swore that he had drowned! The fact that he was still breathing was nigh on impossible.
Yet breathe he did.
"Uhh, don't take this the wrong way, but you don't exactly look too good." said the female, eying his injuries with concern.
He abruptly snapped back to reality and struggled to his paws, only to fall back down onto his side, which sent a sharp bolt of agony through his chest. He gritted his teeth and moaned with pain. Three of his ribs had been cracked when the current of the river had swept him into the side of that jagged rock, and by the gods, was he feeling it. Without warning, the cuts and scratches that his tumble through the river had given him began to burn and sear in unison.
"Oh jeez," whined the female as he bellowed another tortured moan. "you look really, really messed up. I-I'll go get help, okay?"
Before he could reply, the other wolf darted off into the forest and disappeared into the trees. Great, he was hurt, he was hungry, and now he was alone. Still, she did say she was getting help, and considering the luck he'd had for the past few months, that was nothing short of a miracle.
Something warm trickled sluggishly down the side of his face and landed on the ground with a little 'pit'. A small red splotch appeared on the grass, and then another, and another. So he was bleeding, that hardly came as a shock. After all he'd been through it was surprising that he was still in one piece. He dragged himself towards a nearby puddle and gazed at his mangled reflection. A long gash ran through his eye and down the length of his maw, its edges jagged messy. A droplet of blood dribbled into his eye, tinting its otherwise gold colour and turning it red. There were other cuts adorning his body, but none were as pronounced and noticeable as the deep cut on his face. The drops of crimson made a rhythmic pitter-patter as they struck the puddle's surface.
"Over here, this way!" yelled the voice of the female timber wolf from the thick brambles of the forest. The rustling of leaves echoed through the air as she and what he expected were a couple of her pack kindred drew closer. Whoever that wolf was, she had probably just saved his life. The undamaged side of his mouth curled into a smile as his vision began to fade once more.
"And I never even got her name..." he mumbled before losing consciousness.
"CUCKOO!"
Assbird.
I casually ignore the little prick and keep my head laid firmly on the floor. Something in my gut tells me it's about seven-thirty, and I don't usually start the day until around nine. Of course, this has always been a rough estimate, seeing as I don't have a watch or anything. When it comes to keeping the time in the forest, you don't really have much to work with other than how bright it is.
"COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!"
That rooster is just begging for a punting.
"KA-KA! KA-KI!"
A serious punting.
"COCK-A-DOODLE-"
"Finish that sentence and I'll bloody end you!" I yell. Waking up is bad enough without some beaked bastard squawking in your ear. You want to know the reason why we don't have roosters in Everfree? Because they're absolutely fricking useless, that's why. When the gods created the forests and blessed it with wildlife they were intelligent enough to know that making a bird whose sole purpose was to be a dick and pissing everyone else off wasn't a good idea. Too bad the Equestrian gods never got the memo.
Well, at least that little evolutionary fuck-up has finally shut-
"DOO!"
Winona stretched herself out, eliciting a crackle of popping joints. She gave a long, drawn out yawn before skipping out of her basket and setting off towards the kitchen. It was just coming up to eight O'clock, and the rays of sun pouring through the windows promised a day of fine weather. She could hear the faint whistling of robins from outside and the musical humming of Big Macintosh from the kitchen. Big Mac would always hum whilst he fixed his breakfast (and more importantly, hers). She smiled as he hit a high-note and drummed his hooves on the table. She hadn't noticed how much she had missed his amateurish humming until now. It had always been the highlight of her otherwise boring mornings. Every day he'd have a new tune, and every day she would listen to it. She couldn't help but notice that it was more cheerful than usual, not that that was a bad thing.
"Ah got sunshine, on a cloudy day!
Oh when cold outside, ah've got the month of May!"
Well, this was new. Big Mac rarely spoke, let alone sang.
"Ah guess you say, what can make me feel this way?
My mare, talkin' 'bout my mare!"
Winona blushed at the mention of a mare. This was quickly becoming awkward.
"Ah got so much honey, the bees envy me!
Ah've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees!
Too awkward.
Winona walked into the kitchen just as Big Mac finished the chorus, which in her opinion was executed wonderfully (although that only made it all the creepier). The colossal stallion had just picked up the bag of dog food they kept in the cupboard and was half walking, half dancing his way over to Winona's bowl.
"Ah don't need no money, fortune or fame!"
Ah've got all the riches baby, one stallion can claim!"
He filled her bowl to the brim before giving her a cheeky wink and sauntering over to the table and slumping into a chair. He plucked a note from the table and scanned through it with half lidded eyes. With a content sigh he leaned back and stared dreamily at the ceiling, obviously lost in thought.
Winona snapped up the generous breakfast Big Mac gave her, eager to part ways with the stallion before he got even more crazy. Meanwhile, Big Macintosh began to whistle his way through what she guessed was an instrumental whilst thumping the beat into the table. Just what the hay had gotten into him?
He began to read the note yet again, this time pausing halfway through to giggle in just a little bit too fillyish a fashion. Winona took the moment to hastily slip out of the front door and onto the porch, where Grandma Apple still sat swaying back and forth in her rocking chair asleep. If she hadn't known him any better, she would've said that Big Macintosh had gone absolutely insane.
Little did she know that he had a date with a certain nurse.
She sat down next to Granny Smith and gave another audacious yawn. She never really woke up until the afternoon, and made a habit of simply lazing about until the clock struck twelve. It was just one of the many strange little quirks she had. When the sun was high in the sky she was as energetic as a five year old full of sugar, but as for the morning... well, Applejack could fetch her own damned stick.
She closed her eyes and nestled her head into her forelegs. She had a full belly, the day was free, and she was still tired. It was the perfect time to indulge herself in some light napping. Or rather, it was, until Granny Smith started snoring.
Winona glared at wrinkled old mare with malice. Although Winona loved the ancient pony, there was no doubt that she had one of the most annoying snores that the farm dog had ever heard. It was what Winona expected a suffocating hyena would sound like if it had its vocal chords replaced with a foghorn. She shuffled away miserably in search of another, more quiet area to hunker down in. She briefly contemplated nodding off in the orchards before remembering the dozens of twittering birds which made their nests upon the branches of the apple trees. How Applejack managed to nap in that infernally loud place was beyond her. Then she remembered the barn. The calm, peaceful barn. She'd be able to catch some shuteye there no problem. Well, she could have, if it wasn't occupied by that foulmouthed visitor of theirs.
Her thoughts shifted to the wolf. She'd met some strange animals in her life, but he took the cake. His vocabulary more or less consisted of curse words, he rambled about burning animals in his sleep, he was covered with those scars...
So many scars...
She had never seen a creature so disfigured, twisted, and abused. What made it even weirder was that he seemed almost proud of his injuries. Whenever he walked past or caught you looking at him, he would make sure that you would get a good look at the dents and incisions that littered his wooden flesh, apart from the missing leg, that is. He made sure to hide the remaining stump of a limb as much as possible, tucking it into his chest and angling himself in a way that hid the stub almost completely.
'Proud of being scarred, yet ashamed of being disabled. And here I thought they were both two sides of the same bit.' she thought to herself.
"You can't stay up there forever, dickface!" growled the rough, threatening voice of the timber wolf. "You're gonna have to come down some time or another!"
His voice was coming from the opposite side of the barn. The panicked 'BACKAAW' of a rooster thundered through the air, followed by the timber wolf's harsh bark.
"Celestia darn it! What's he gone and done this time?" grumbled Winona. Strange or not, this wolf was nothing short of a nightmare to up with. She raced around the barn, and not at all to her surprise, she found the timber wolf sitting on his hindquarters, staring intently at something above him. She followed his gaze to a petrified rooster, who stood perched upon the barn's roof. The poor little thing looked as if it were about to drop dead from fright.
"Just what in blue blazes d'ya think yer doi-"
"Shh!" wolf hissed through his teeth, keeping his eyes trained on the terrified bird. Did he just... shush her? It took all of Winona's constraint to stop her from sinking her teeth into his neck there and then. Nobody, and she meant nobody shushes her. Lucky for him, she wasn't in the mood for bloodshed, but that didn't mean that there wouldn't be hell to pay.
"Ah'm in a good mood," she lied. so ah'm gonna give ya the chance to apolog-"
"Shhh!"
On the other hand, bloodshed didn't seem like such a bad idea. However, before she could pounce on the offending wolf and churn his flank into a neat little pile of sawdust, she remembered her previous battle with him, and the injuries it had left her with. She cringed as she recalled how painstakingly long it had taken to pry his jaws off of her backside, and how much it still hurt to sit down. If she was going to get through that thick skull of his, she'd have to do it with words (although using her claws was still a tempting offer).
"What're ya doin'?" she blurted out before he could shush her.
"Staring."
"Ah can see that, mind tellin' me why?"
"This bastard's quick, Winona. I can't afford to let him out of my sight." he made it sound as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He flinched as the rooster shuffled a wing, as if he was preparing to jump into action. "C'mon," he muttered under his breath. "I'm ready for you, come at me."
"Ah... ah'm not actually all that sure how to react to this."
The wolf groaned in annoyance. "I'm guessing Equestrian society doesn't involve 'challenging', does it?" he asked without taking his eyes off of the rooster.
Winona scratched her head with a paw. "This is gonna be some kinda weird timber wolf thing, ain't it?"
"Uhuh." answered the wolf with a curt nod. The two stood in silence as the awkward staring match continued. Winona had to admit, she never expected neither the wolf nor the rooster to be able to go so long without blinking. She cleared her throat to remind the wolf that she was still next to him, waiting for an explanation.
"Yeah?"
"Ya mind runnin' whatever the hay yer doin' by me?"
"In case you haven't noticed I'm kind of busy, I'll tell you later. I'm NOT letting this guy slip by me."
"You do know roosters can fly, right?"
As soon as Winona mentioned this, the bird took flight and disappeared into the distance. The wolf fell back onto his flank and sighed in tired aggravation. "Well, I suppose that solves the mystery of how he got up there in the first place." he grumbled, pawing the ground roughly. "Anyways, you wanted to know what challenging was, didn't you?"
Winona gave a stout nod. Although she didn't particularly like the wolf, there was no denying that the stuff he said was interesting. From what Winona gathered from his vastly foreign views on romance and questioning of Equestrian culture, the society he had come from must have been completely different than Equestria's. It was quite exciting to her, seeing as she seldom ventured any further than to the end of the apple orchards.
The wolf scratched his scarred maw thoughtfully, concocting an adequate way to explain 'challenging' to Winona in a way that she'd understand. "Have you ever challenged someone to a fight?" he asked.
"Don't ya remember our little disagreement yesterday?"
He smirked grimly. Oh yeah... That's not really the best example, seeing as you kind of just jumped me." Winona narrowed her eyes at him. Maybe if he hadn't provoked her she wouldn't have 'jumped him' in the first place! "You see, challenging is kind of like telling someone that you're going to kick their ass. Only, you tell them with your eyes, not your mouth."
"Well why d'ya have to stare at 'em? Can't ya just say you wanna fight?" asked Winona. The whole process seemed rather pointless to her. Why waste time staring when it would be so much easier to simply talk to each other? The wolf shook his head slowly.
"Words can be manipulated and twisted into a shield for the cowardly. Ask any timber wolf and they'll tell you the same thing. The eyes are portals into the soul, which means that there's nothing to hide behind when someone stares into them." The wolf spoke with a seriousness that Winona hadn't seen in him until now. He sounded surprisingly wise and old, like that turtle tortoise Applejack's Pegasus friend brought over every now and then.
"What's yer name, partner?" she asked, suddenly aware that she'd known him for three days and still had no idea what to refer to him as other than 'partner'. The wolf smiled at her weakly, which would have been somewhat charming if not for the yellowing teeth and scarred face.
"Well, Applebloom's taken to calling me Splinter, which I guess is as good a name as any."
She smiled back, but her grin quickly died away. "Y'all 've been hangin' 'round Applebloom?"
Shit! I can't believe I let that slip! I promised myself that I'd keep Applebloom and me under wraps. It was obvious that Winona was dead serious on protecting her family, so there was no telling how pissed off she might get when she finds out that a full grown predator has become the youngest girl's new playmate.
... Did I really just refer to myself as 'playmate'?
"Hey!" she snapped, baring her teeth and giving me a glare that would make a manticore crap itself. "Ah asked you a question. Have you, or have you not been gettin' close ta Applebloom!"
My eyes dart left to right, like they always do when I'm nervous. Alright, there's a fence about forty feet to my left. If Winona starts getting a little bloodthirsty I'll head for that. I just hope to the gods that she sucks at running, because losing a limb has seriously reduced my speed. Defending myself was out of the question. I may have managed to beat her during our last confrontation, but now that she knew my fighting style as well as what I'm capable of, I doubt I'll be as lucky. Plus, I really don't want to risk going through another session of ear-rape with my friendly neighbourhood torturer. I looked as if I had three options:
Option one: Run, get caught, and get the living crap beaten out of me.
Option two: Fight, loose, and get the living crap beaten out of me, followed by having Applejack burst my eardrums with that weird little noisemaker of hers.
Option three: Stay, try to explain, fail, and get the living crap beaten out of me.
Well, I'm not quite in the mood for another bout of torture and I seriously doubt that I'd be able to haul my ass over the fence (if I even made it that far), so I may as well go with option three. At least that one doesn't take any physical effort. And who knows? Maybe Winona is feeling particularly conversational today.
She wasn't feeling particularly conversational today. As soon as I mentioned that Applebloom had taken me for a walk yesterday Winona had pretty much swan dived into my face and pinned me to the floor. For an Equestrian pet that spends all of her time on a farm, she's pretty damned strong. She loomed over me with her ears flat against her skull and her eyes narrowed, staring menacingly into mine. Her snout hovered only inches away from mine, and I could smell the rancid stench of that disgusting dog food on her breath. It takes a lot to frighten me. I've lived in the forest for all my life, which is filled with all kinds of creepy crawlies who'd love to rip me open and use my intestines as a skipping rope; I've seen innocent animals die squealing and thrashing in infernos of fire; I've killed and eaten things which most people only ever see in their nightmares.
All of that didn't compare to how shit-scared Winona made me feel now. Of course, I wouldn't dare show it. If someone, anyone sees fear, they'll exploit it in a heartbeat.
"You hurt her, an' ah'll kill you." she said simply. I've been given countless threats in my life, a lot of which were actually followed through, but none had ever sounded as honest and sincere as what just came out of Winona's mouth. Lies and deceit were my speciality, and I knew full well that this as neither. I cleared my throat and spoke, picking my words carefully to avoid getting her even more riled up.
"Winona, I honestly didn't have any choice in the matter. I was just enjoying some time alone, wallowing in my own sadness, and then all of a sudden three foals popped out of nowhere and-"
"Three?"
She dug her nails deep into my shoulders. Not deep enough to draw blood, but by the gods did it hurt like a sonofabitch. First my leg, then my ears, and now this, if I didn't know any better I'd say that Equestrians have some kind of strange obsession with inflicting pain on me. Maybe I'm just one of those people that everyone loves to hate. Either that or gods are just shitting on me.
"Yes, three! Applebloom, Sweetie-something and the chicken! They barged in and approached me, not the other way around. I haven't done anything fucking wrong!"
"Y'all watch that foul language!"
"Who gives two shits about my language? You're the only one who can bloody understand me!"
"Well maybe I don't like it!"
"Well maybe you should make me fucking STOP!" my fear of Winona as well as my concerns for my personal safety had long since gone out the window. I tried to explain the situation to her, and all she could do was find something else to bitch and moan about. There was literally no reasoning with this dog. So screw it, if she's going to hurt me regardless of what I say, I may as well piss her off whilst she's at it.
"Maybe ah will." she growled, pushing her nails into me further still. i felt the warm and all to familiar sensation of blood slowly trickling out of the small but nonetheless painful wounds. Surprisingly, I don't feel afraid. In fact, I feel quite the opposite. Ever since I've met Winona, she's had a blatant air of superiority over me, and I'm pretty damned sure that I know why. She thinks that just because a family of oversized, hooved vermin accept her as their willing slave, she somehow becomes more civilised and superior to me, who is the unchained and savage beast which nature had intended me to be. Well you know what? It's about time she got some blood on those nice, clean, filed claws of hers.
"C'mon then," I goad, matching her snarl with one of my own. "if you wan't me to stop swearing so much, then how about you fucking MAKE ME!"
She unsheathed one set of claws from my throbbing shoulders, and and then brought it smashing down upon my face with relentless force. Her nails scraped across my muzzle and through my lip, adding three new incisions to my mug. Scars, you can never have enough of them, can you? A drop of blood rolled from the fresh cut, seeping into my mouth. Blood doesn't taste nearly as satisfying when it's your own.
As a thin line of red began to trace itself down my cheek, Winona's snarl faded into an expression of shock. She hastily dismounted me so that I could get back on my paws, a second glance shown me that she was slowly backing away. She looked almost frightened of me, which didn't really make much sense, seeing as she was ready to rip my throat out a couple of seconds ago. Her eyes flicked from the bleeding cut on my face to the small red holes she'd left in my shoulders, examining her handiwork (pawiwork?) in horror.
"I- ah'm sorry. Ah... ah wasn't thinkin'!" she stuttered. "Ah j-just wanted ya to simmer down, ah never meant to..."
She went silent, but I could still feel her looking at me as I checked the severity of my new cuts. Despite hurting like hell, the bloody holes in my shoulders were fairly shallow, and were pretty minor injuries. The scrape across my face was nothing more than cosmetic damage. Still, it stung like a bitch, and licking the shoulder wounds clean was going to be aggrovating as hell (Just try to get a dog to lick its shoulders, it ain't easy).
"Ah didn't mean ta' hurt ya'."
"You sure as hell could have fooled me." I grumble. Why does she insist on being apologetic? Last time I checked I was the one who provoked her. It was about time Winona got some blood on her paws, anyways. Maybe now she'll realise just how much similar to me she really is and stop being such a domineering bitch all the time. I never like being bossed around, especially not by an Equestrian.
"It's just, when ah heard ya'll were gettin' close to Applebloom, ah..."
"Got defensive?" I finish. She nodded timidly. I could relate to that. Dispite a timber wolf pack's complete disregard and exhile of any and all disabled members (for example, me), the pack itself was meant to be extremely dedicated to the protection of those in its ranks. I say 'meant to' because nobody ever seemed to bother giving me a helping paw whenever I was up shit creek. That is, apart from-
"But that doesn't make hurtin' you any less right!" exclaimed Winona, smashing through my train of thought like a bulbous, southern wrecking ball. "Ah'm sorry ah hurt you fer swearin'. Yer different, an' ah haven't got any right to try an' change that. Yer kind just happens to use... uh... more exotic language."
Seriously? She's apologising to me for that?
Freakin' morally perfect Equestrians...
Serrah kneaded the fine, well ploughed soil between her toes. The apple orchard she currently hid in was a sentiment to why she loathed ponykind as much as she did. The trees stood in neat rows, ravaged of the bounties which nature had bestowed upon them. The earth beneath her had been stripped of grass and savagely raped by the steel ploughs that the ponies dragged across what they claimed to be their land, land which they insisted on abusing more and more every passing day.
There was a time when the great pine and oak trees encompassed the farthest reaches of Equestria. Now, there was only this.
The orchard was a fine example of the ponies' enslavement of nature. The trees had been forced into constricting columns so that they could be methodically robbed of their fruits, the pigs were kept trapped in dingy wooden pens, and worst of all, any form of outside, non-equine life was shooed away. Just what the hell gave the ponies the right to deny nature access to land that rightfully belonged to it?
And to think, he sided with them.
She stealthily closed in on the tall wooden structure ahead, keeping her head low and her body prone. Careful observation had taught her that the traitor had hid himself in the bowels of the building. No matter, the large doors which were left hanging open allowed her more than adequate passage. Pack traitors were to be dealt with, and she couldn't give less of a damn whether or not her father approved. He may be an alpha, but he had no right to spare traitors.
A rooster cawed from its perch upon the building's roof, stopping Serrah in her tracks. The bird's call may well have been a warning, which would have meant she'd been spotted somewhere down the line.
The rooster cawed again, almost absent-mindedly. Good, from what she could tell, it was just making noise for the sake of being annoying. She continued down her planned route, but stopped once again when she heard the infuriated roar emanating from within the structure.
"Finish that sentence and I'll bloody end you!"
She had no doubt that it was him.
Serrah continued her approach in well-practiced silence, this time ignoring the bird's aggravating squawks. She already smell the sour breath of the traitor, the stench of birdfeed on the rooster's feathers, and the strong musk of the dog's fur.
'Wait, dog?'
Serrah instinctively flattened herself against the ground to ensure that she went undetected. 'Damn,' she cursed to herself. 'I should have seen her coming. And to think I call myself a huntress...'
The dog in question was making a beeline towards the structure. It was a female with white fur blotched with chocolate brown. A red collar was strapped around her neck with a small golden circle dangling from it across her breast. No doubt this creature was a pet of the ponies, an animal which had willingly given up its freedom in favour of being dragged around on a lead. As far as Serrah was concerned, it was yet another crime that equines had committed against the world, one they would eventually pay for.
Her eyes snapped back to the building as she noticed something in her peripheral vision. A figure emerged from the door, and her jaw clenched in anger as she noticed who it was.
'So, you've finally decided to show your face, have you? Great, now I can tear it off.'
The traitor emerged from the building before sluggishly circling round and landing himself on his plot, staring at the rooster. Good, he was tired as well as distracted. If Serrah played her cards right, she'd have him dead within the minute. Or rather, she would have, if it weren't for that bloody dog. The hound sat herself next to Serrah's target and began to idly converse with him.
Serrah brought herself to the edge of the orchard and hid herself behind the thin trunks of the apple trees. It wasn't exactly the finest of cover, but at this distance she doubted that it mattered that much. From where they were standing, she probably blended in with the rest of the trees. There were many reasons why timber wolves had a wooden carapace, and camouflage just happened to be one of them.
The rooster took flight, and Serrah ducked beneath the shade of the leaves as it passed overhead. There were enough complications as there was. First the dog decides to take a walk, then the traitor decides to get some fresh air, then the two start chatting, she didn't need a bird cawing at her to top it off.
She waited for a few minutes to see if the dog would leave. She may have been a pet, but that didn't give Serrah any reason to kill her. She was here to deal with traitors, not slaves. However, there wasn't currently much choice in the matter. The pet was being an obstruction, and if Serrah couldn't get around her, she'd have to go through her. She doubted that the dog would present much of a challenge to a huntress such as herself. Pets had virtually no knowledge on combat, making them pitifully easy to topple in a fight.
The dog suddenly leapt on the traitor, barrelling into his chest and pinning him to the ground in the span of about two seconds.
Well, maybe they weren't that pitiful.
Serrah had to strain her ears to hear the two canines growling fiercely at each other, and even then she could barely make out what was being said. Something about an 'Applebloom', whatever the hell that was.
Whatever it was, the dog looked nothing short of furious about it. If Serrah was lucky, she wouldn't even have to get her paws bloody. From the looks of it, the traitor was already as good as dead.
But alas, much to Serrah's disappointment, the dog dismounted the timber wolf, giving him nothing more than a quick swipe across the face. She shouldn't have suspected much else, the ponies were known for raising their pets to be spineless. If anyone was going to be doing the killing, it would have to be her.
She readied herself to pounce at the two canines. She had observed enough, now was the time for action. Her hind legs compressed and coiled backwards, and her lips pulled back to reveal her serrated, yellow teeth. In a brief moment of thought she outlined and organised her plan of attack, taking even the smallest of details into account, from the stances of her foes to the direction of the wind. A burst of adrenaline heightened her senses and quickened her already pounding heart. She would have had them both dead in the blink of an eye...
If not for the solid buck Applejack delivered to the back of her head.
The world blinked out of existence the second the pair of orange hooves made contact with her skull. 'So much for being the perfect huntress...' she thought for herself as she dropped limply to the ground.
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At last! I always enjoy reading another chapter of this story. If only there were more of them...
1926414 I know, I've been a little (okay, extremely) late with this chapter. Truth is this isn't the only project I'm working on. Lately I have been juggling this story as well as another super-duper-techno-trooper secret one. Somewhere down the line I'll crank it out and focus my full attention on what truly matters. Writing about a timber wolf who who loves being a dick.
I always knew something was up with that 'jolly' fat man...
Good chapter by the way, I look forward to Splinter never letting go of Winona sudden shock back to being a proper Equestrian.
that authors comment...
fc09.deviantart.net/fs50/f/2009/323/f/c/Boot_to_the_head_by_ComX_1.png
Hmm...Are you planning on having any of the new Timberwolf canon info from "Spike at your Service" in your story? (Besides the friggin Voltron timberwolf...because that wouldn't do the story much justice.)
Well, nice update btw!
1929856 Well, I'll have to stray from the canon a little (I mean indestructible wolves? C'mon, there's a limit) but I guess I could bring parts of it in. Colossal wolf-tank, anyone?
1927756
(I have yet to see a "hoof to the head" parody of this XD )
Lol another timberwolf to join in on the fun.
1931263 If only real courts were like this...
Voltron timberwolf, ah Voltron you bring happy memories. but still Voltron timberwolf ah haha i gotta remeber that one
C'mon man, it's been almost three weeks already since this update! I need my wolves!
More nownow
3930138 Actually I got that from IT. That chapter where Beverly's father turns into a hideous mockery of the witch from Hansel and Gretel is right up there with The Red Wedding from Storm of Swords as one of my top ten moments in literature.
Nice to see a fellow Stephen King fan, by the way. He's one of my favourite authors.
Would you like to be in my timber wolf group
Link
4755684 Well, why not? Consider me a member.
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I like you.
6314744 To be honest, I probably won't. I've struggled, but no matter how hard I try I can't squeeze out the words. I keep it on hiatus because I keep on coming back in vain attempts to get it going again, but when it comes down to it the base quality of the fic was never very impressive to begin with. There's a chance that I'll try doing a re-write some time in the future, because I quite the like premise, but other than that I can't say. Real sorry, man.
Oh I liked this story, even if I didn't have the joy to see the rest of it, it was still pretty fun one :) Good job writer!
(Edit: now that I think of it, this is one of the best stories I have actually read, going to my favorites :P)