• Published 18th Nov 2020
  • 12,002 Views, 133 Comments

Big Trouble in Little Pony Town - Some Leech



Anon happens upon a new pony in town - a particularly large, strong, and unintelligible pony...

  • ...
18
 133
 12,002

Babbling Behemoth

In the near decade since Anon had walked the land of Equestria, he’d seen all manner of odd and captivating sights: magical duels which shook the earth, nightmarish creatures born from Tartarus itself, chimeric gods who bent rules of reality with ease. But nothing - nothing could have prepared him for the peculiar scene he stumbled across that morning. In the Ponyville market, surrounded by droves of townsponies, stood one of the largest, most powerfully built mares he’d ever laid eyes upon.

Covered in a creamy coat, with a fiery mane and tail, she easily dwarfed any of the Princesses in sheer size - for fuck’s sake, she was almost as large as an actual Earthly equine! Though she was seated on the ground when he first spotted her, he could instantly tell that she was an absolute behemoth. Taken aback by her bulk, it took him a moment to realize what in the hay she was even doing.

Resting on her rump, with her forelegs braced behind her on the dusty street, her hindlegs lay clamped around a rather sizable watermelon. Sweat beaded her brow, her eyes were pinched shut, and the muscles about her massive thighs bunched and tightened beneath her lightly colored coat. Though the stubborn fruit between her lower limbs was somewhat distorted, it wasn’t until she unleashed a primal bellow that everything went to hell.

The melon exploded, showering the onlookers in the shattered rind and sweet, pink flesh of her vanquished foe. The crowd went wild, yet not everypony was pleased with the spectacle. While a few of the onlookers tossed spare bits in her direction, a great many of the spectators seemed put off by being covered in the sticky remnants of fruit. As for Anon, he couldn’t help but stare in wide eyed wonder at the mysterious giant.

Slowly, ponderously, the colossus got to her hooves, brushed herself off, and glowered down at the earnings from her rather unorthodox show. Where most ponies only came up to Anon’s thigh, this particular mare stood squarely at eye level with him. Blowing a sprig of hair from her face, she only eventually noticed him standing there.

“Whit err ye keenin at, ye lanky bas?” she groused, glaring over at him.

“I...what?” he coughed, shaken from his stupor.

Rolling her head, she turned to face him. “Ah jalouse ye cannae ken me?” she pressed. Her voice, though marish and effeminate, strung the words together in a bizarre, almost sing-songey fashion.

“What?” he repeated, trying and failing to figure out what in the hell she was saying. He’d heard any number of accents before, from the unique one held around Baltimare to some of the thicker country ones found in the sticks, but the titan’s speech almost sounded like another language entirely.

His continued confusion seemed to sour her mood, as she eventually turned her eyes down to her meager earnings dotting the ground. “Nae even enough fur breakfast,” she grumbled to herself.

“Wait wait wait,” Anon interjected, shaking his head and causing her to peer over at him. “Did you say breakfast?”

“Aye, breakfast, ye eejit,” she responded, her arctic blue eyes locking dead on his face. “Urr ye offering?”

While he was only able to decipher every third or fourth word, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out two things. First of all, she seemed like she needed a helping hand and, unless she had some sort of melon-based exhibitionistic kink, was likely flat broke - secondly and more prudently she was probably hungry. Given her size and the slabs of muscle piled about her frame, she probably burned calories at a prolific rate.

“I can get us breakfast, sure - heck, I was just about to go to Sugar Cube Corner for a scone and a coffee,” he noted, hitching his thumb over his shoulder.

“Whit’s th’ catch?” she countered, squinting at him.

“Catch?” he parroted, cocking his head. “There’s no catch. If you’re hungry, you’re hungry! Just consider it a friendly introduction!”

Truth be told, since he’d found himself in Equestria, he hadn’t met a single pony who wasn’t friendly - that is, with the exception of that megalomaniacal filly who nearly destroyed society. It wasn’t like his job at the post office left him with tons of disposable income, but he had enough spare bits to treat the oddly speaking and immensely sized mare to a bite to eat. He had no idea who she was or where she’d come from, but she’d immediately piqued his interest.

Studying him from top to bottom, possibly trying to gauge if he was on the level, she nodded once. “Juist a bite, then a'm oan mah wey…”

“By the way,” he began. Inching closer to her, he extended his arm. “I’m Anon.”

Firmly grabbing his hand in her hoof, causing a pained look to cross his face, she shook her foreleg. “Òrd.”

“Nord?” Anon hesitantly repeated.

“Na, ya daft cunt. Òrd! Lik' whit ye skelp nails wi'!” she blared, hammering her hoof into the ground.

Be damned if he knew what she was saying, but her name sure as shit seemed to match her lively personality - heck, she even looked like a viking! Unsure of what exactly set her off, he simply reached out and softly patted her on the head. “Come on, let’s go get you something to eat.”

Her scowl waned, if only in the slightest degree, before she tersely nodded. Gathering up her effects, which had been heaped aside for the somewhat bizarre show, she deftly donned her garments. Besides a quartet of leather shoes, for lack of a better term, her ensemble consisted of a fitted vest and a tunic. It was rather odd to see a pony casually wearing clothing - then again, she didn’t appear or act like an everyday pony, so the man didn’t dwell on it. If or when they got a chance to chat, granted he could understand her, he could eventually inquire about her outfit.

“Ur we aff tae staun 'ere a' day or urr ye aff tae git me breakfast?” she asked - at least, he thought it was a question.

Turning towards the bakery, Anon waved his newfound companion forward. “So...I’m guessing you’re new to Ponyville?”

“Aye, ah woke up in a muckle castle this mornin'. Sin ah wis hungert, a clocked masell oot tae fin' something tae sloch. Then ah fun ye 'n' ye shored,” she stated, smirking to herself. “I’m nae sure how come a' body is sae wee, or whaur thae buildings cam fae, bit that mystery kin wai’.”

Uh...huh…” he noted, nodding to himself. Once again, he was left even more confused that he had been before - still, he took stock in the fact that she appeared to have calmed down a bit.

Opting to stay quiet for the remainder of their brief stroll, lest he be subjected to more gibberish, they soon reached their destination. Holding the front opening the door for his enormous companion, he ushered her inside. She slowed as she passed, grinning over at him.

“Aren't ye crakin'!” she chuckled, turning to examine the bakery. Sniffing the air, eyeing the various confections and baked goods on display, her eyes went alight.

“Take your pick,” Anon remarked, waving to the counter. “Breakfast is on me.”

Taken aback, Nord’s jaw hung open. “Urr ye joshing or urr ye trying tae git intae mah breeks?”

“No, really, get what you want!” he urged, hesitant to assume what she’d said.

He hoped that getting some food would give him some time to figure out what he was going to do with her. As things were, there was no way he could let her just wander around Ponyville alone. Not only did she stick out like a sore thumb, but there was a damn good chance that most ponies wouldn’t be able to grasp what she was saying. Standing by the exit, watching her excitedly yammer at one very flustered Mrs. Cake, the door violently swung open behind him.

Glancing over, noticing Twilight panting heavily beside him, he stepped to the side. “Lemme guess...You’re here for her?”


“Anon, thank goodness, I came as soon as I heard she’d kidnapped you!” the Princess huffed.

“Kidnapped?” he parroted, knitting his brow in consternation. “She didn’t kidnap me, I just brought her here to grab a bite. I’m not sure who she is or what in the hell she’s been saying, but she doesn’t seem mean or anything.”

“Tell that to my library!” Twilight seethed, leveling a hoof at the giant mare.

Glowering down at the irate little alicorn, Anon lowered himself into a squat. “What do you mean?”

“I thought my colleagues in the highlands had sent me an artifact they’d dug up - well, I mean, they did send me an artifact, but how in the hay was I supposed to know there’d be some ancient pony inside?!” she lamented. Rocking back, sitting on the floor, she buried her face in her hooves.

Pursing his lips, he patted her shoulder. “Twilight, please start making sense…”

“Ok - a few archeologists unearthed a cask that they presumed held some sort of hard cider. The barrel was intact, perfectly preserved by the peat it was found in, and I thought it would be a great chance to study ancient fermentation techniques. Not a day after I got the shipment, that explodes out of it,” she groaned, once again pointing in Nord’s direction.

“So...she was pickled?” he asked.

“How am I supposed to know? Nopony should have been able to survive in a cask of alcohol - let alone for several hundred years! Near as I can figure, she dates back to the time of the Pillars!” Twilight sighed. “I don’t know who she is, how she came to be in a barrel of cider, or what in the hay she’s saying - the only thing I’m sure of is that she made a mess of my castle! I...I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do with her! I -”

“Och mah jings!, this is pure guid!” Nord’ interrupted, sauntering over with a cookie sheet heaped with confections. “Dae yi'll waant yin, wee jimmy?” she sputtered through a mouthful of muffin. Stopping beside the man, she extended the tray towards him.

“Oh - uh - sure,” Anon uneasily hummed, plucking a scone from her platter. She beamed down on him and trotted away, seating herself at a nearby table. “You know,” he mused, “she almost reminds me of Rockhoof.”

“Rockhoof! Anon, that’s it!!” Twilight bleated, grabbing his shoulder. “If you can keep her busy for a while, I’ll get in touch with Rockhoof; he might be able to translate for us! She just offered you food, that has to mean she’s ok with you!”

Though the truth was the other way around, Anon shrugged. “I mean, I guess I could keep an eye on her,” he impulsively responded.

“Perfect!” the Princess chirped. “I’ll be back in no time!”

As the realization of what he’d just agreed to dawned on him, Twilight was gone - disappeared in a flash of light and Pop of displaced air. His eyes lingered on the spot where she’d sat, if only for a brief moment, before he peered over at his oversized charge. Seated at the table, wolfing down tiny cakes and confections like it was her last meal, the mammoth mare’s sole focus seemed to be on gorging herself.

“Anon?” a voice called, causing him to turn. Mrs. Cake stood nearby, holding a rather lengthy receipt in her hoof. “Here’s your bill…”

His heart sank, noticing what Nord had ordered; she’d spent nearly a week’s worth of his wages on a single meal! Fishing into his pocket and digging out every last bit he had on him, swearing to Mrs. Cake that he’d make up the difference later, one thing became painfully evident - he’d need to find some way to supplement his income...