Pom's Chapter — A Novelization of a Story That Doesn't Yet Exist

by AIPomgeon

Chapter 2 — The Woodlands

Woof keeps pushing Pom along, nipping at her heels whenever she starts slowing down.

The path, at least up to the edge of visibility, is a fairly easy one. There are apple trees, wild dandelions, and more; at first Pom stops at each one for a snack, but after a few times Big Papa begins getting annoyed and stops her with a commanding bark. She sighs and goes along.

Past the last patch of dandelions the terrain becomes much more uneven, and Pom quickly tires out, though she's not afforded any rest. Eventually, the dogs lead her to a vague, winding hillside path that takes her higher and higher up into the mountains. The dogs pause at every twist and turn, making sure their leader is still following and checking for any possible hazards ahead.

Eventually, they arrive at a patch of particularly fine grass growing on a plateau. "Okay lads, sit and stay," Pom says, legs finally giving out as she splays onto the ground. She lies there grazing for a bit; Judging by the sun, Pom determines she's at least an hour away from home, further than she had ever gone before.

"Och." she grumbles to herself. "This is a right mess. Don't even know where I'm headed."

Pom has second thoughts, considering turning around and heading back. It's not too long a walk to make it back home. The moment Pom so much as turns her head, however, Big Papa utters a single gruff bark. The pups play carefree around him but he stares only at Pom, the message clear: "don't even think about it."

"Yer a real mind-reader I guess." Pom sighs.

Suddenly the dogs become alert, and she hears footsteps. Pom looks up, expecting the worst, but instead of that sees a sheepdog coming around the bend. It's not one she recognizes at all; judging by its face and its heavy panting, it's been running all day to the point of exhaustion.

The dog limps directly to Pom, as if it recognizes her abilities as a caregiver. She gives it a lookover, but it cries out at the first touch. It doesn't take long to see how badly it's injured; underneath the fur are a myriad of scratch and bite marks, its gray coat stained with dried blood. "Oh my!" Pom shouts, rummaging through the supplies for a first-aid kit.

She starts cleaning the wounds as soon as possible but the sheepdog howls in pain, refusing to cooperate; some of the wounds are deep, and all of them were made by fangs and claws. The dog looks up with mournful brown eyes, begging Pom for relief. She fights against its wriggling, applying the medicine despite its protests, and bandages what she can. When she's done, the stray lets out a whine of relief.

"Poor thing, what could've done this tae ye?" Pom says, petting it and giving it water. "Head straight back tae the village, lad. They'll treat ye better than I could."

The dog whines gratefully, showering her in kisses from a sitting position. After waiting for a bit, it struggles to its feet and begins limping down the path back towards Baaah.

---

Whatever hurt that poor stray must be further ahead. Seeing this Pom really don't want to continue, but she also doesn't want that danger roaming so close to home. She continues on, staying parallel to the path that the dog seemed to come from, hopping across the occasional creek and leaping over logs as her own dogs sniff and point her the right way.

Shortly Pom comes across the first sign of the fight, a wide slash across a tree stump and a spatter of blood on the ground beneath it. It's dry, but it's more than enough to see that there was a fight here. She hears a branch break behind her and spins around, jumping back. Her heart races as she trains her gaze on rattling bushes. A moment later she spots a tuft of black fur sticking out from behind a tree trunk, rapidly shaking back and forth.

"Woof, don't scare me like that! Heel!" Pom scolds. The small dog quivers and whines, ducking his head and diverting his gaze to the ground. Pom can't be mad at him for very long though; as soon as Woof wags his tail she gives him an affectionate pet to let him know she's still glad to see him.

"To me lads, all of ye." Pom instructs. "We 'ave no idea what could be lurking."

Pom searches for anything else out of the ordinary, finding pawprints and a few more drops of blood here and there. Despite being such a large forest there's an obvious trail leading through it. Judging by the amount of trampled grass and dirt, whatever did this is large and doesn't care about hiding. Pom follows the trail for an hour or so until she notices something out of place; an area cordoned off by thick tree branches and leaves. The dirt is noticeably more trampled than the rest of the forest, with bits of broken plants still caught up in the mess of it all.

---

Ahead is the glimpse of a black shape slumped against the trees. It moves slightly, and at once the entire posse of dogs take a defensive stance, Big Papa moving in front of Pom and Big Mama behind. As she gets closer Pom realizes it resembles a large dog, just a wee bit smaller than Mama. It's... not quite a dog though. It's hard to see under the shadows of the canopy but it seems scrawnier, more angular-looking. Its teeth stick out of its mouth even when closed, and its claws, which are barely noticeable on sheepdogs due to their thick fur, jut out by a few inches. Red eyes glare at her, seemingly alien; Pom can read the emotions of Baaah's dogs quite well, but there's no understanding between her and this... thing. It doesn't move as they approach; it just lets out a low growl.

Mama and Papa growl back. Not wanting her dogs to get hurt, Pom makes her best attempt to reason with this not-dog. "Here lad, it's okay. Are ye hurt?" she says slowly, stepping forward slightly. Big Papa growls loudly as she does so, but she ignore his protests.

---

The strange dog gives Pom a look conveying both pain and anger, and falls silent; its eyes seem to roll, and for a second Pom thinks it's fainted, but the moment she steps toward it—no intentions but to make sure it's not wounded—it leaps forward to the edge of the shadows. The next thing she knows the beast is on top of Big Papa, who ran in front of her without fear, biting into his thick hide refusing to let go. Pom yells in surprise as her dogs fight back, a frenetic tussle.

As Big Papa bellows in pain, something snaps in Pom's head, and without any regard for her own safety she jumps into the fray. With no fighting experience she blindly runs forward and flails at the beast with her hooves. If only due to her running start, the blows manage to loosen its grip long enough for Papa to shake it off, it hitting the ground with a thud.

The fake dog looks Pom dead in the eyes as it rolls to its feet. She inhales sharply and braces herself, having made herself its biggest target.

But for some reason, it doesn't strike. It just looks at Pom, almost as if it's waiting for something. The moment stretches on until a chill goes up her spine, and Pom finds herself turning around to check if anything's behind her; nothing is.

"Whaddya want?" Pom says in the moment of stillness. "Why attack us? We've not done anything tae warrant it. If yer hurt I can help."

The wolf doesn't respond, doesn't move, for several long moments. Then it walks forward slowly, until it's only inches away from Pom. She becomes paralyzed with fear as it leans in, her dogs a hair trigger from piling onto it. By the time it stops Pom can feel its hot breath on her neck, slightly ragged from the tussle thus far.

Then it speaks, voice clear and precise, but still unlike anything Pom has ever heard. A haunting voice from another world. "We want to walk the earth.
To regain our place in this world. To hunt and feast upon your kind."

It pauses for a moment, an agonizing moment, before adding: "We will have our revenge. On our prey, for sealing us away. And on the traitors who stood with you over us. We just need the Key . . ."

---

It's unclear what would have happened next had Pom been alone. Fortunately for her, the dogs beside her would never allow that hypothetical thing to happen. Big Mama tackles the beast before it even gets the chance to strike, hurling it away from Pom as the other dogs surround it. It lets out a piercing howl as it touches the sun-lit grass, echoing throughout the forest, before it lurches back at Pom, using the common tongue one final time.

"You cannot stop us. . ."

At the conclusion of its statement the dog-thing explodes into a cloud of smoke, nothing left behind.

---

It takes a minute before Pom can shake off the terror inflicted upon her and move. Its words were direct, no room for interpretation. Pom just survived her first encounter with a predator, and there are going to be many more.

The pack moves quickly, worried if the predator has friends around, but it seems it was all alone. Still, Pom doesn't want to stick around and see if it's right behind her or not, the smoke nothing more than a magic trick. She looks over each of her six dogs; Big Papa has some light scratches but everyone else got through that unscathed, herself included.

There are predators about. Horrible creatures that feast on the flesh of their prey, which is now confirmed to include sheep. And that predator called the sheepdogs "traitors." They do eat meat, and they look so similar.

"Big Papa, were you one of them?" Pom asks.

He barks, and Pom doesn't know why she even asked.

"I guess ye can't talk like that thing can."

There's a howl in the distance, stirring the dogs up. "Aye," Pom says to them, "I'm not sure what that was either." Pom starts moving forward, intent to get out of here as soon as possible, lest she gets attacked again. The path continues on deeper into the forest, light gradually lowering to a twilight as the woodlands get denser.

The pack follows in silence, though Papa and Mama keeps taking glances through the trees. "What is it?" says Pom. Papa stops and points his nose in one specific direction. In that direction she can see a large, conspicuous circle in the ground surrounding what seems to be nothing more than normal trees.

"Oh, that's..."

Pom is interrupted by a second howl. She turns to see the source, finding it much closer than it sounded. Another one of those cruel, dog-like things stands less than a hundred feet away, staring Pom dead in the eyes.

"Run!" Pom shouts. Before the word passes her lips, the predator leaps. It takes no time to close the distance and it seems focused entirely on Pom; it doesn't even target the dogs.

Big Papa takes the lead, ramming into the assailant just in the nick of time.

"Pups, get tae safety!" Pom instructs the quartet of smaller dogs. "Mama, to me!" Ruff, Tuft and Puff all move a safe distance from the dog-thing while Big Mama begins sprinting towards it. Woof, however, refuses to leave Pom's side, not quite aware of how dangerous this situation is.

Pom turns, intent to get away from the beast herself, only to feel its claws lightly at her back She manages to scramble out of the way before her flesh is pierced, outrunning it just long enough for Mama to assault it with a burst of violence. It skids more than twenty feet away, only to run right back toward the lamb. It leaps straight over Mama, Papa chasing after it, aiming at Pom's throat.

Pom ducks down, putting her hooves over her head. As if by divine coincidence, the motion hits the predator squarely in the jaw as it comes down. It stumbles backward in pain, unable to come to its senses before Papa barrels down on it, hitting it with the force of a freight train.

The predator flies past the perimeter of the strange circle. It lands on its feet, ready to pounce again, but out of nowhere is struck by a blinding beam of light from an unknown source. It cries out briefly in pain before vanishing in a puff of smoke like its brother before.

---

"What?!" shouts Pom, rubbing her eyes after the light show.

"Step forward not!" a voice commands.

Pom looks up, and there before her stands a proud unicorn. Her horn shines with a light so bright that its color cannot be distinguished, and her coat seems to be that of the palest snow. A lion's tail swings back and forth behind it as it gracefully walks forward.

"What an unexpected surprise," she states in a cold monotone voice. "I had heard wolves howling nearby, but I did not expect to find an ungulate here. Especially not one of the Sheeple."

"Where am I?" Pom asks. "Did you do that to that thing?"

"Thou hast entered the sacred woodlands of the Order, young lamb." she says. "Thou must be lost, for if thou knew of this place thou wouldst not dare approach it."

"I, I had no idea there were unicorns so close tae Baaah!" cries Pom. "I had heard of ye in stories but, only a few hours away..."

"A few hours? It is at least a day's trek from the village of Baaah to here."

"What? That cannae be right."

"Mayhaps the natural light of the woodlands has impacted thine sense of time? It is nearly midnight."

"WHAT?! Nae, the sun was at its highest when I entered the forest! Not more than an hour or two has passed since then!" shouts Pom.

"It seems thine senses are unreliable, lamb. Has the magic of the forest altered thine state of mind?" the unicorn sneers. As she continues she looks at Pom with pure derision. "With thine arrival, our secret is exposed. Thou should show gratitude at my mercy, for I am not glad that thee are here. It was only by chance that I was awake and sensed thine presence. The others are all asleep, and had thou entered our sacred grounds without a source of protection thou would have perished much like the wolf."

"A wolf? So that's its name." Pom says. "Why do they look so similar tae my pups? I don't like it. 's perverse, that's what it is."

The unicorn laughs haughtily. "Thou believe the wolf's form to be the work of evil magic? No, that is nature, how it has always looked and acted. It is thy companions who have changed."

"Elaborate." Pom says, not liking that answer.

"Command me not!" she shouts, the sky cracking with her words.

Pom cowers, begging. "I'm sorry! Please I didn't mean tae offend ye. But I don't know what's going on! The sheepdogs 'ave been good tae the Sheeple for longer than any of us can remember, but they're so close tae that awful wolf. Why is it? Please, if ye know I beg ye tae tell me."

The unicorn looks down at the cowering lamb and sighs. "Very well, I shall. Knowledge is for those who seek it, after all." She pauses, and seems to ignore Pom for a moment as she goes into thought.

---

And then, she speaks.

"The Order of the Horn have kept to the Woodlands since time immemorial, tending to our trees and plants, making sure they grow in the most wondrous way possible.
"Does the shrub commit evil?
"Does the flower dare think it is better than another?
"No, for we tend to them all equally, granting them safe haven from the horrors beyond these lands."

She gets closer as her tone lowers. "Yet, we can only maintain our domain so far. Past these woodlands are many dangers that we cannot micromanage, not without imposing an unfair will upon the world."

She turns away again. "The predators dare not attack us, for we are powerful and they wish to survive. The other races of Foenum possess neither our knowledge or talent with the arcane, however, and for eons have struggled with the predators. Then, on an eventful day, one of the few outsiders to possess a mastery of magic rallied the ungulates and banished their foes to The Hold."

"Aye, but what does this h—"

"Interrupt me not!" The sky crackles once more and Pom winces.

She raises a cloven hoof and continues where she stopped. "But surely the Prophet failed to gather ALL the predators, for the predators are crafty. Mayhap a pack of wolves managed to hide away in proximity of the ungulates. Mayhap a docile breed of ungulates allowed this to happen, knowing of them but either neglecting or failing to drive them away."

"You mean—" Pom begins to say, but quickly hushes herself after a glare.

"Thy conclusion is intelligent, lamb. The subservience of the sheepdogs, genuine as it is, belies their origins. Millenia pass, and the wolves that once may have preyed upon the Sheeple have learned to coexist.
"Why would they not, if the Sheeple were so willing to cohabitate, providing shelter and a place to freely hunt weaker creatures?
"Was it not a better existence than the void?
"At one point in time, mayhap, a wolf developed that first genuine bond with a sheep. And thus did the wolf's progeny. After enough generations, it became a part of their core being, an instinctual desire to cultivate and protect the descendants of that sheep."

Stamping the ground the unicorn concludes, "I believe enough has been divulged to satiate thine curiosities."

"Thank ye, I... I'd 'ave never known, had I not met you." Pom says. "If what ye say is true—"

"I am certain in what I know and what I do not know. This I know." the unicorn states matter-of-factly.

"—then maybe the predators can be reasoned with and we don't have tae fight."

Staring at Pom dumbfounded, the unicorn is lost for words. Quickly finding them, though, she scolds, "How can one with the intelligence to seek our guidance be so daft? They are the PREDATORS, lamb. Their lifestyle is to pillage and destroy. That there was once one exception is a pleasant turn of events but thou art a FOOL to believe it can happen again, and overnight at that!"

Pom looks away bashfully. "Nae you're... yer right... I just don't want tae fight anyone."

Her demeanor changes immediately and her eyes squint disapprovingly. "Thou art a coward."

"Aye, I am. I don't wanna even be here."

"Then turn tail and return home, lamb. Thou shall be killed out in the world with thy attitude."

"I want tae, I really do! But the Sheeple picked me tae do this. If I'm tae find the Key—"

The sky crackles with an unprecedented ferocity as the unicorn snaps at Pom, her sense of decorum and pride replaced in an instant with an unfiltered furor. "Speak not of the Key to me! Enough damage has been done to the Order by those foolish enough to seek it! Never shall we help you or anyone on such a journey!"

Pom backs away in panic, slamming against a tree and landing on her back. "Please don't hurt me!" she cries.

"Sister Forsythia, what is the meaning of this? To scream like this at such an hour." Several unicorns, coats just as pure white, appear out of nowhere behind the one Pom has been speaking to.

"There is no cause for concern, Clemensia." the unicorn now identified as Forsythia states. "I am merely dealing with an intruder who, running from wolves, approached the sacred lands."

"I've not come here for trouble, please believe me. I don't even know how I'd get here again. I'm just looking for the Prophet's Key and I don't know where to go."

"The Prophet's Key?" a male unicorn says. "We shall not assist thee on such matters."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Forsythia already told me."

"Address me not!" Forsythia shouts.

"Cease thy tongue." the male says.

"Yes, forgive me Brother Hawthorne." Forsythia hangs her head in shame.

"If I could only be pointed in the right direction it would be all I need, I don't want tae ever bother ye again." pleads Pom. Thinking for a moment Pom follows up with, "also it's late, and scary. I don't want to run in any predators while I sleep, so, and I dinnae mean any offense and apologize, but if I could stay the night..."

"You DARE to ask for entry to our grove? All the secrets that could be stolen, and for you and those beasts—"

"Silence thy tongue! Else I steal your voice." Hawthorne threatens, horn glowing.

"I have spoken out of line and wish for penance, Brother."

"Return to thy study. I shall decide thy punishment at a later time."

"Yes, Brother."

Forsythia teleports away without further word, deeply ashamed with herself.

Turning to the lamb, Clemensia speaks. "Do not judge Forsythia too harshly. There has been a disturbance in the Order that we cannot discuss here, but it has impacted her greatly."

"Nae, I'm sorry for speaking out of line." Pom says. "I really must learn not tae speak up."

"On the contrary, lamb," Clemensia continues, "this has been festering ever since the incident and it is for the greater that those grievances be aired, lest we lose another."

"That being said," speaks Hawthorne, "Forsythia is correct in that we cannot allow thee to enter our grounds. If thou art really seeking the Prophet's Key, thou may find the information desired in the deerfolk capital, Reine."

"Och, thank ye. Do ye know the shortest path to get there?"

"Indeed. Would thee like to take the shortest path?"

"The sooner the predators can be resealed, the sooner I can go home." Pom says.

"Very well. May we never see each other again." Hawthorne says. The two unicorns glow brightly, and with a single flash Pom is magicked out of the woodlands.

---

Pom finds herself on an empty icy cobblestone street, freezing and alone save for an extremely startled deer couple who move away from her. She looks around but her dogs are nowhere to be found.

Realizing what's been done to her, and her inability to return to that forest, Pom darts around for any sight of her pups. She runs up the street and down again, but there's no sight of any of them.

Her final hopes dashed, Pom is about to cry when Woof appears about fifty feet away, beelining toward her. She cradles him, feeling proper happiness for the first time since this nightmare of a journey began. "Woof, boy, I was so worried. If you're here then the other pups must be transported here too, aye?"

Woof licks her face.

"We'll ha'e to gather them post-haste. Poor things must be scared to death, shivering in the cold. We'll find 'em and then find a place to spend the night." Pom turns around—

—and faces two deer guardsmen in uniform. The deer couple from before look onward at the scene.

"We're told you teleported straight within the city walls?" one says.

"Um, not really by choice but aye?" Pom says, backing away slightly.

"That's called trespassing." the second states bluntly. "Could you please come with us?"

"Could this wait? I got separated from my pups and I really need to find them."

"It really cannot wait." the first one says as the two guards take to each of Pom's flanks. "We can take you in peacefully or we can use force."

"I... okay, let's go." Pom and Woof follow the guards, still glancing around for any sighting of the other dogs, until they are taken to a cell.

Comments

[Dogman15]

It looks like for everything after chapter 1, you forgot to convert from present tense to past tense. I'm assuming you want the whole story to be past tense like normal, yes?

[AllenVth]

Looks like that one Unicorn got affected the most by Olly leaving.

Also, Pom learned about Air-Counter. though she still needs more practice before fighting against packs of Predators like Arizona does it.

[Galgus]

Big Papa keeping Pom going is fun: presumably the dogs understand the threat of the predators better than anyone in the Meadowlands.

He also seems to believe in her, despite her obvious shortcomings.

Pom treating the sheepdog is good foreshadowing of the threat of the predators, and a nice way to show her compassion and competence.

It seems like the sheepdog and the wolf were both injured in a fight, so the wolf decided to lick its wounds rather than give chase after probably starting the fight.

I think you portray Pom discovering her panicked fighting style well, and the teamwork with her dogs.

Forsythia seems to show the arrogant lack of concern that Oleander rebelled against well, but I like how others are more humble and reasonable.

Oleander claimed to be the most powerful sorceress, if memory serves, and while she may not have tested that against all magic users she almost certainly had to contend with the Order of the Horn: so that seems like a high upper limit of sorts on their magic.

It'd make sense for them to have magical protections, though.