The Story
The storm grew over the edge of the Everfree, simmering and swirling like a true Tempest of old, the weather Pegasi did not see it, nor did any pony in the town pay it any heed, more so because of the moon hanging high in the sky and the blackness that covered the sleeping landscape like a blanket than the unlikely fact nopony noticed it. Everypony now slept soundly in their beds.
The stars now grew dimmer as lightening claimed the sky, rending it in two as it sliced a forked path through the storm clouds. Snow fell and started a thick blanket on the ground, not two weeks prior had the rest of the Pegasus’s snow cleared, and now a wild storm was claiming the land, slowly spreading like pollutants in a body of water.
Said clouds grew and grew until they surpassed even the Pegasi's mighty storms, swirling and tumbling, forming miniature cyclones that never touched the ground, and with the advancing storm front, just under the rim as it moved into the quaint town of Ponyville, was a pony, battered and half dead, wings broken, bruised and battered, as if fresh from a fight, he limped heavily, favouring his front left leg as the right had been sprained in a conflict with a Chitine. A gash on his side opened profusely like a flower, blood fell towards his hooves, staining his coat red.
He was freezing to death, the obsidian blackness created by the blizzard and the dark of night was interrupted only by the constant stream of snowflakes swirling around him, wrapping him in an impenetrable wall of darkness, white snowflakes and freezing crackling cold.
The storm had come up quickly over the hills, showering him with ice cold rain and snow as he trudged through the forest and through the knee high blanket that gripped at him, threatening to pull him down and consume him fully. The snow whipped around his small form and he tried to wade in the now thigh deep snow. He tripped over a log and fell into the thick white blanket. His wings felt frozen. He staggered to his hooves and coughed, his lips staining red as his throat leaked an amount of blood.
Every breath hurt him, every step he battled the snow and the feeling his muscles were burning up, and slowly turning to lead with his exhaustion. Every step he used what little of his precious energy he had, hopefully to reach some sort of civilisation.
His face was freezing and his lips were turning blue and cracked, blood seeping out of them as he took another breath, his throat rasping and seizing up.
He tasted the coppery taste of his own blood as it trickled down his throat. He was going to die in that desolate place.
He gasped in another rush of cold air, his throat seizing up and closing, a rush of pain in his already sore throat made him try to scream, but nothing came out.
His throat closed painfully and he stopped breathing for a split second, but it was still enough to make him sink to his knees, covering his legs in the snow. He wrapped his hooves around him in a vain attempt to shelter himself from the wind and snow. His wings became an impromptu blanket and warmed him just enough to stave off the inevitable for a few more seconds. He tried to ignore the pain of the broken bones, but it was the only thing reminding him that he was alive.
He looked up at the clouds and saw a slight break, showing the starry sky. He managed a weak laugh. He was free. But freedom came at a price it seems. In this case, his own life. He fell to his stomach, the blood from the wound in his side staining the snow red. He did not notice the coldness as it moved along his arms creeping towards his chest like the hands of death itself, finally coming to collect he who it had caused so much pain to, finally showing mercy as the blade of the proverbial scythe descended on his soul.
His eyes slowly closed, and the blackness poured in on him.
No he thought, he wasn't going to die, he had survived all those years and he was going to let the snow defeat him?
That was just wrong; he was going to be regarded as weak if he let that happen. He snapped his eyes back open and felt a surge of strength light his leaden muscles.
He managed to draw enough strength to stagger a few more steps into a clearing. His throat finally opened back up and he gasped in a grateful rush of air, even though it pained him to no end.
He saw faint orange lights in the distance, through a thin layer of trees and undergrowth at the far edge of the clearing. He was taking shallow breaths of air in his parched throat, almost sobbing with relief as he thought he might survive.
His lips turned black. His arms grew numb, and his muscles finally relented and turned to lead as he painfully took step after laboured step.
He leant on an old oak tree, panting. He could see faint lights in the distance, but he was bleeding out. He couldn't make it. His wings fell from around him; he had no strength to fold them up.
He slowly slid down the tree, the branches snagging at his coat. He coughed yet again, and blood stained the snow a crimson red, and he gave in.
He faintly heard a voice, a sweet voice, before he fell to the floor, his vision became black, but, something was standing over him, something white and black, with beautiful eyes the colour of the sky on a sunny day.
He slipped into unconsciousness.
Zecora tipped over the contents of the small container with all the precision of a doctor or a nurse making a specific measurement of medicine. The cool blue liquid sloshed into the cauldron. She watched as the green liquid glowed green for the slightest instant before it resumed its normal colour or crimson with a little bit of yellow in it.
She dipped a spoon into the frothy liquid and took it out, bringing it to her lips and tasting of the contents before resuming stirring slowly.
"Once again, I must say, my skills have proven useful today
Now to bottle up this little brew and leave it to cool rather than stew"
She spoke softly to herself before walking over to the bottle cabinet just above her potion supplies, opening it and taking out numerous bottles and containers, carrying them over to the cauldron and setting them on the table just beside it.
She sniffed at the smoke rising from the cauldron and choked back a gag.
"Oh no, this will not do what is this smell that befouls my brew?
'Tis not the Opium, of that I'm sure Nor is it the RedGuard, the smell is too pure"
She sniffed again and once again gagged at the smell. She was attempting to make some bubble bath for the Spa Twins Lotus and Aloe, but it would seem as though she failed, for a bubble bath with a stench such as that would not sell even one bottle.
"Maybe some Amethyst would do the trick But I lost the last to those two dumb hicks!"
She cast her mind back to the day when Flim and Flam had arrived and on their way out had bartered with her to exchange some of the purple jewel for a device that would help her find gold and other valuables, they called it, a 'Metal detector', but after the first use it had collapsed in her hands.
"Not to mention the jewel around here is quite rare" she muttered to herself and sat on her haunches, silence filling the cabin as she rubbed her head with her hoof in contemplation.
"Oh! Maybe Rarity has some to spare!"
The sudden realisation was a welcome one, and she picked up her saddlebags, turning back to the cauldron and the fires that lit it. She picked up a pitcher of water and poured it on the fires, sequestering them into dying embers that slowly raised steam and smoke. She opened a window to let it out as she put the saddlebags on with some of her bits inside it.
She turned to the door and opened it, stepping outside and putting the old lock in place with the golden key she kept on her person at all times. She looked up and was surprised to see a storm growing with cyclones and everything. Snowflakes had begun to fall and the ground was covered in a thick blanket.
"It seems that winter is still here Quite odd for this time of year"
She pondered to herself as she slipped the key back into her saddlebag, then turned away from her hut and walked down the dirt path that lead to the small town. It was still night time, but by the time she reached the town the faint touches of sunrise would begin to show. Her hooves crunched in the snow, muffling the noise of the pony that walked through the trees not three feet away.
She stopped and heard the voice; the startling clarity that she was not alone hit her like a ton of bricks.
"What is this voice I hear Through the trees and so near?"
She turned to the voice and her eyes shot open, a Pegasus, so far away from the town, looking like he had been through the wars. He was leaning on a tree and there were various cuts and bruises on his body. She gasped to herself as the pony fell to his knees. She called out to him.
"Excuse me sir, are you alright?"
She rushed over to him when she saw him cough and blood stained the snow. She held him as he looked at her, and then slipped into unconsciousness.
"What has happened to you this night?"
She held him, and his coat was icy cold. She knew that she had to get him someplace warm or he was going to die.
"Oh my, I must get you warm As surely you'll perish in this storm"
She hoisted his limp form onto her back, marvelling at just how light he was, and proceeded to carry him back to her hut, she got about halfway before the snow assaulted her, the winds and the lightening seemingly focussed on her to deter or obscure the way.
She finally made it to her door and fumbled for her key, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Her hut was in disarray, as she had left the window open all of her jars had been knocked over. Most still had the stoppers in, but a few had spilled their contents onto the counters and shelves. She closed the window and deposited the body onto her bed, placing a hoof on his forehead and feeling the icy cold skin.
She looked him over, seeing his coat slick with blood, mud, and a few other things from the forest she either could not name, or didn't want to think about. There was a wound in his side bled on her white bed sheets, his wings were both broken, or so it seemed. They were very curious wings, either they had been cut in half and broken, or he had four wings.
She rooted around underneath the bed and pulled out several bandages and a cloth. She wiped around the wound and the colt seethed in his place on the bed as she cleaned the wound with antiseptic. She hastily fastened the bandages around his wound as she would have to focus on warming him up. She had to hurry. She wiped around the broken wings and sighed, shaking her head, throwing the dirty cloth in the waste bin beside her potion shelves. His wings were of dark obsidian. She fastened bandages around them and set the bones as quickly as she could, wincing at the cracking sound.
She wiped away a tear. How had this pony gone through all this and survived?
She picked up some blankets and wrapped them around the Pegasus; she didn't know what else to call him, as he did have four wings. The blankets were only light affairs, more to protect him from heat stroke as she knew that that could happen if she tried to warm him up too fast.
She dragged the cauldron outside and poured the bubble bath out onto the grass. The spa sisters could wait. This was a more pressing matter at hoof.
She then dragged the empty cauldron back into her house and set it over the fire that she now knew she would have to re-stoke.
She looked towards the Pegasus who was now breaking out into a cold sweat, she felt his forehead and it now felt slightly too warm. He was getting a fever.
She sighed and walked into the small kitchen, opening the draw and getting out a cloth, putting it under a tap and wetting it with cold water, bringing it back to the figure who now resided in her bed. She placed the rag on his forehead and left it there, letting the cold water soothe his fever, and the blankets warm up his cold skin.
The wind and the snow continued to batter the small house, shrieking outside like a wailing banshee. She cast a dubious glass outside the window at the white snow and sighed slightly, grabbing a jug and filling it with water. She poured it into the cauldron and let it boil as she lit the fire beneath it, grabbing a few ingredients.
She turned back to the figure that was now convulsing in his sleep. She shook her head. Whoever this was, he would be lucky to survive until he storm was over. She had to get him to the hospital.
Quickly I must seek to act, Before I cannot turn back
The damage that has already been done To this poor soul's equilibrium
She poured a few ingredients into the cauldron, meticulously measuring out each quantity as she poured and set the cauldron to a low boil. She strode over to the prone form of the colt now shaking. He felt hot, but she knew that the fever would break soon with the potion she would give him.
He woke up suddenly, eyes darting around the place. She sprang into motion and was beside him, laying a hoof on his shoulder and keeping him down. He clutched at her forearm and drew her in close, she yelped in surprise as he stared deep into her eyes, his own black ones unmoving and unblinking.
"Don't take me back, you can't take me back, please" He pleaded, his eyes impossibly wide. She tried to pry him off, but he held even tighter.
"I won't 'take you back' as you have said But you will strain yourself if you don't stay in bed
Now let me go so I can nurse And you can sleep next to the hearth" she said, motioning towards the fire underneath the cauldron. He calmed down his erratic breathing and slacked his grip on her arm, falling back into his slumber. She smiled at him and wiped along his forehead and then pulled back the blankets. His wounds had stopped bleeding, so she cautiously removed the bandage she had applied and fastened a more secure one to his side. She un-wrapped the ones around his four wings and did the same.
She knew she would have to take him to a hospital, but she couldn't in the storm. She would have to rely on her own knowledge and her skills as an alchemist. She smelled the liquid in the cauldron, satisfied it was the correct potion she needed, she dipped in a spoon and poured some into a container she had set aside earlier.
She brought the hot liquid to her cold tap and poured some water over the bottle in an attempt to cool the potion down. The bottle cooled. She walked back into the main room and saw the bed empty, the Pegasus straining on the floor, hooves reached out towards the door. She rushed over to him and helped him up, but he struggled, screaming and kicking, shouts of "No! I won't go back!" ripped apart the silence and shattered the cacophony of the storm.
She struggled with him some more until a flailing hoof hit her and she stumbled back, her grip slackening, and he took one feeble step towards the door before collapsing.
She groaned and got up, seeing him collapse. She flexed her jaw and felt the pain course through her, the bottle had clattered to the floor, but stayed intact.
She walked over to him and took a look over his prone form, picking him up once again and laying him on the bed. She would have to be more wary in the future, her curiosity would have to wait, but now, she had to give him the potion, something to take away his delirium and fever. She put the bottle to his lips and he opened them slightly, allowing the liquid to course down his throat, soothing him. His eyes flickered open and captured Zecora's, deep red with sky blue. Zecora had never seen eyes so beautiful.
She held his gaze as she spoke her next words carefully;
"You must rest you poor lost soul, I promise that there is no place you could go.
For in this storm everything shall die, That hasn't got sense enough to hide.
And even though I am curious, As to what made your wounds so serious,
I have pledged to stay with you, While you heal from my little brew.
So please relax and take a sleep, For in here, no harm you will reach." she said with a smile, and he finally relaxed, tense muscles poised for running now relaxed onto the bed, he drunk the rest of the potion and Zecora put the bottle down next to the bed, and stroked through his sepia-toned mane soothingly, the way a mother would a hurt foal.
Eventually the colt's eyes fluttered closed and Zecora inexplicably felt alone. His breathing was irregular, and he was still shivering, but he would be fine now. His fever had broken, so Zecora now wrapped the blankets around him and pulled up a chair beside his bed, preparing for a vigil.
Throughout the morning the storm died down, the snow turned to sleet; the sleet turned to rain, and took the snow with it, blasting it away like liquid flames. Zecora had always loved the rain, then again, she loved the snow too, but not while it pounded on the doors and windows like the proverbial throes of death itself.
She sat there watching the rain for what felt like forever, the droplets pattering on the window and creating a soothing musical cacophony. Nature's lullaby she called it. Whenever she was stressed, angry, sad or even happy, she would listen to the rain if there was some, if there wasn't, then there was the tap in the kitchen. It wasn't really the same, but, it was better than nothing. The rain though, nothing could compare to it, the way it soothed and silenced, the smell it left behind in the summer, it was the life of all things. Strange that something as simple as rain, something most ponies considered annoying, was the very essence that made life work.
She smiled to herself as she closed her eyes, the rain soothing her to a trance-like state, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Suddenly, there was another noise, a coughing. Her eyes snapped open and there was the colt coughing away. She rushed to his side and massaged his throat, a trick her mother taught her when she was a little filly. Soon, the colt stopped coughing and returned to sleep. She placed a foreleg on his forehead and noted that he was slightly hotter than her. He might be getting an illness, but without knowing precisely what it was, she couldn't devise a cure just yet.
She resumed her seat by the bed and checked him over. He was, in all honesty, quite handsome, his cheek bones were high, giving him confidence, and strength, even if he was a bit thin from being on the roads for Celestia knew how long.
Zecora caught herself suddenly, pushing the thoughts from her head and shaking it vigorously. She couldn't think like that about somepony she barely knew, he was a stranger; she didn't even know his name.
Besides, he could have been a mass murderer, escaped from a prison. She giggled at that. This man seemed good to her, and she prided herself on being a good judge of character, after all, making a living depended on that. But, then again, he did beg with her not to, 'take him back'
She sighed and listened to the rain again. There were too many questions, questions that would have to wait until he woke. The rain soothed her very being, lulled her into a sense of comfort, and she soon found herself drifting in and out of sleep, until finally, it claimed her.
He slept fitfully, he remembered he had coughed, he was somewhere, couldn't tell where, was he back? Yes, he was, no, no no no no no! He had to escape, like he had before, he had to, his life depended on it!
He searched and searched, it was his cell, he recognized it, where was the key? The guard had to have dropped it, like he had before! Where was it? There! There it was! Shining against the dark floor! The hay around him shone too, but it was grey and mottled brown in places, and they expected him to eat that?
He put the key in the lock, it fits! The dream shifted, he was running now, in the distance he could hear dogs baying for blood as they charged after him. Snow swirled around him, the ground thick with it, it had started ever since he turned 18, last week, the storm, the storm that seemed to follow him, even now he could see the epicentre moving, the wind picked up, blowing with him as he ran. That should make the dogs disorientated.
Voices shouted in the distance, he chanced a look back, he was ahead of them, but he could see torches shining as they held them aloft. He allowed himself a smile.
Until he ran into a tree.
No, that wasn't supposed to happen, he had made it before, why now, why? Why was he forsaken?
He lay in the snow, his vision blurred by the snow and the concussion. He saw figures above him, blackened shapes hidden by torches. One of them shifted and he saw it, it was him.
His throat tightened in fear and he felt tears prick his eyes. He saw something glint in the torchlight as the colt knelt down to examine him.
"You know, you'll never get rid of us. Not really" he said as the knife pressed against his temple. He squirmed and grunted in pain as the knife was buried deeper into his head.
"We'll always be there, and no matter where you run, no matter how far you manage to squirm away, we will always be there to remind you" he said, as he twisted the knife again, and thrust. He screamed.
Zecora snapped awake as she heard screaming, she looked up to see the colt was screaming and thrashing again. He quickly calmed down when he saw Zecora.
"What was the dream you had my dear That caused you scream in such pure fear?" she asked, and he shook his head, holding her hoof tightly as tears rolled down his face. Zecora suddenly realised, this went much deeper than a simple escape from prison, whatever had happened to this colt had scarred him so deeply that he was crying after a nightmare.
He calmed down after a while, and Zecora simply stroked his mane and hummed a soothing tune.
His breathing calmed from sobs to normal breaths, so Zecora asked again.
"So tell me my pony friend What has scarred you to no end?" she asked again, and he looked at her with those questioning obsidian eyes of his. He shook his head.
"I... I can't..." he began, and was captured by her compassionate eyes, for a brief moment of instability he considered telling her.
"I can't tell you" he said, closing his eyes and turning away. She sighed and continued to rub his hoof.
"You know, you can trust me, right? After all you gave me quite a fright
But if you escaped from a prison near here Then please let me know my dear
If I get in trouble because of you Then I will hunt you down too" she threatened jokingly, then instantly regretted her words as he turned back to her with fresh tears.
"A prison? No, nothing so mundane, although I wish it was..." he trailed off, taking his hoof from out of hers and turning over in the bed.
"I just... I can't talk about it. I barely escaped there once and I don't want to go back. Not even in my memories" He said, and she decided to drop the subject, at least for now.
"Listen miss...?" he trailed of, turning his head, waiting for her to answer.
"Zecora" she finished with a smile, and he turned his head back away.
"Zecora, I appreciate your hospitality, but, I think it would be best if I leave here as soon as possible"
"To hospital I will escort you soon But I cannot take you, you buffoon
The storm has made it impossible To take you to the hospital" she said, and the colt withdrew. Maybe calling him a buffoon wasn't such a good idea. She decided to change the subject, as she could tell the colt was fragile.
She cleared her throat.
"Well, you have me at quite a loss As you know my name, but yours I know not" she said, and he arched an eyebrow with a quizzical smile.
"Are you asking me my name?" he asked and she nodded.
His smile disappeared and he shrugged.
"I was never given one" he said, and she grew confused.
"You were never given a simple name? Where is this place from whence you came?
It sounds like Tartarus personified And you say t'was the place you used to reside?"
He furrowed his brow quizzically before nodding.
"I think I understood that, and yes, I lived there, if you could call it living, before I escaped"
He stretched and sat up, a hoof was placed on his chest, he smiled at the zebra before gently pushing it way.
"I am capable of sitting up Zecora"
"Well, just be careful my newfound friend, You damaged your wings, seemingly to no end" she explained, and he shook his head.
"Why do you speak in rhyme all the time?" He asked and Zecora shrugged.
"It is something I was taught to do when I was an adult and filly too"
He smiled at her.
"Ever tried not rhyming?" he asked and Zecora shook her head.
"I find it helps where some might not expect.
Like when telling a story or poem.
Rhyming is something most ponies neglect.
But often is easier than they know"
"Hmm well that was a different rhyme scheme there I think" he said cheekily and Zecora smiled wryly.
"Can't a mare change, such is her desire? Can't she be random, much like a fire?" she asked, and the Pegasi's smile disappeared.
"That was... oddly profound" he said and Zecora winked at him before she leant back in her chair. She looked behind him and he grew uncomfortable. She motioned to his wings, two of which were fluttering in a wave like motion.
"Such a curious thing, for a Pegasus, to adorn. Four wings in such a beautiful pattern" she said, and the colt blushed, flapping the four wings once independently, ignoring the flare of pain.
"I don't know exactly why I was born with four wings, I just know that my guards called me a 'Hemiwing'" he said and Zecora raised an eyebrow.
"May I be so unrefined
As to ask to touch your wings?
Please do not think me unkind
I just want to see" she said and He looked behind him, extending his four wings out to full length, a small wince clouding his features as a rivulet of pain shot through his back. She scooted forward on the bed as he turned around, and rubbed her hooves along each wing in turn. He gave a slight shiver as her hooves gracefully fluttered over his wings and felt each feather.
"These wings are stunning my Hemiwing friend
Their beauty stuns me to no end"
She spoke softly, and he shuddered as her hooves seemed to caress every feather from the tip of his wings down to where they connected to his back. He allowed himself to close his eyes, he nearly began panting. It was no secret that Pegasus wings were extremely sensitive, it's what allows them to make subtle changes when they fly and detect a change in the air, but they still only had two wings, and he had four. And her hooves seemed to be stroking every feather on every wing. When his head lolled back he had to catch himself, she caught onto the fact that what she was doing was basically giving him a massage. She blushed, and pulled away rather quickly.
"I am sorry for my social blunder
But your wings are a source of wonder" she said in awe, with a subtle hint of embarrassment. He turned around and smiled at her.
"You really like my wings don't you?" he asked and she nodded sheepishly. He smiled.
"Well, to be honest, I don't. They always set me apart, made me something different, it made me an outcast. I guess that's why they imprisoned me, because I was different. Equestria may be a tolerant society, but there are still those that would shun something different" he said morosely, and Zecora nodded.
"Believe it or not, I know how you feel
They shunned me before I made my deals
I send them potions and tonics so pure
And now they know that I don't harm, I cure"
He listened intently, before furrowing his brow in confusion.
"But, if that happened only recently, how did you survive out here alone?" he asked, and her face fell, her expression going dark and sad.
"I don't like to talk about that dark time
I survived on the forest and what I could find
A scavenger I am certainly not,
But I was forced to become one during that time slot"
He smiled warmly at her and placed a consolatory hoof on her shoulder.
"All of that's in the past. And now, well, you have friends in town, and your talents are sought after by a few of them, to me that's one heck of a turnaround" he said smiling, to which she mirrored with a smile of her own. Outside, the cacophony of rain finally dulled to steady pounding of a few raindrops that fell from the leaves overhead. Zecora cast her gaze out the window.
"The rain has stopped, it would appear
Now I can move you away from here"
She motioned out the window, and his gaze followed hers, and he sighed.
"Yeah, I can go to a hospital now. I won't burden you anymore, Zecora" he said with a fake half-smile. She chuckled and he looked at her, her eyes now firmly planted on him.
"Unless of course you would like to stay
I'm sure you can survive another day"
The smile that accompanied her words captured him, forcing him to give a genuine one back.
"I would love to Zecora, if you're sure I wouldn't be imposing" He said warily, and she shook her head chuckling slightly.
"Of course not you silly pony
For out here it gets very lonely
It would be nice to have, at last
Some company to have a blast" she said with a warm smile, and he simply chuckled, focusing his attention back outside to the few streams of sunlight that broke through the thick clouds overhead and into the hut through the window.
Outside, a bird emerged from its hiding place and took a deep breath, bursting into song now that it could be heard, and flitting forth from its perch on the branch and into the clearing sky.
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That Zecora picture is so cute!
1163457
Indubitably
Why is it already on hiatus? Just curious how that works, is all.
1163496
Because I haven't updated it on Fanfiction.net yet, so to leave you with false hope is evil.
That was NOTHING like what I expected.
MASSIVE SPOILERS INBOUND!!!!!
An OC(I'm fine with that by the way) with 4 wings escaping fro Tartarus after sustaining grievous injury to be nursed back to health was not what I saw coming. I was thinking maybe another zebra shows up seeking the potion master (no not Snape!) but even she would not be able to heal him of whatever rare ailment he had (sad and tragedy tags).
1163590
He didn't escapre from tartarus, he escaped from the place the ponies held him when he came from tartarus if that makes any sense
1163613
But he did have to get out of Tartarus first right?
Bout time we got some Heterosexual love for Zecora that wasn't Big Mac.
1163619
Sure he did.
Or his parents.
I take it you're familiar with Hemmiwings, Dicorns and Brutes?
1163665
Umm, no. Please enlighten me, I feel under educated.
1163673
Dicorns: The Dicorns are like Unicorns, but with two horns, and they have half the magical power of Unicorns because they have to divide their focus between two horns. Some Dicorns have become so adept at this, that they can cast magic at a normal Unicorn level, but very rarely will they be any more powerful than a Unicorn.
Hemiwings: Hemiwings are the Pegasi of Tartarus. They have two wings, but both are split down the middle and have formed smaller third and fourth wings. These extra wings allow for unprecedented air control, and allows the Hemiwings to fly about like insects, with no need for wind or clouds to glide.
Brutes:The Brutes are similar to Earth Ponies, in that they have no magic or wings. However, they have double the aptitude of muscular growth than that of Earth Ponies, and are therefore bigger and stronger than most Earth Ponies. They take to solving most problems in Tartarus through brute force.
1163702
Where did this stuff come from is it from some fannon universe I'm unfamiliar with or is it something from an IRL book that was ponified? (sorry it took so long to respond I'm in the middle of reading This Platinum Crown)
1163787
It's someone else's headcannon that I adopted because it's cool
1163818
Where can I find it? My read it later section is down to half a story( granted it's 100k but that's only like 5 hours)
1163846
It's just a random tumblr post
dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Spitfire_sad.png
When I first saw this description, these were my thoughts:
"What dafuq, this kid has no grammar skills."
After I click it:
"Oh, it's just separated by separate lines."
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i117.photobucket.com/albums/o56/darthblade/r4geani.gif
Just kidding
Very interesting start, you have me intrigued.
Author, are his wings one on top of each other? Or are they next to each other? Like one closer to his front and the other his back.?
It's be easier to picture him
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25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m18cxx8Wkb1rsntqno1_500.jpg
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fascinating. That's notquitehow I picutred him but thank you
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I hate this kindle
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it's just letting you see a Hemmiwing's Wings
Oh that's not him
PLease continue this awesome fic.
I agree with dusk wing please continue
How? All he did was scream at her and accidentally cause an injury.