They're home.

by Nameless Narrator

(A)Way (from) home: 1

Freezing wind howls through the Everfree forest, bringing with it a shower of snow falling from the overburdened tree canopies. This year’s winter in Equestria has been particularly cold, forcing any creature without a good reason to stay indoors as much as possible. The cold and inhospitable weather, however, had one crucial benefit - it cleared out the hostile Everfree fauna and flora almost in its entirety, which suits the only current traveller busy with trudging through the deep snow and seemingly unbothered by the permanent darkness just fine.

Said traveller is an equine, tiny compared even to the bushes they’re pushing through and much more so to a heavily loaded cart many times their size which they’re pulling with practiced skill. Still, the unusual amount of snow does seem to be a worthwhile adversary, at least according to the non-stop muttering of the creature.

“I’m late, I’m late, I’m late. I know the guys won’t mind if I don’t make it in time, but- whoa whoa! Veeery slippery,” the equine takes a step and falls up to its neck into snow, “Damn you, sudden, unexpected hole! You used to be such a good friend whenever a gribbler chased me, the best kind of hole even, and now this? Betrayal!” one leg rises from the snow, shaking vindictively despite the muffled voice containing no venom or even frustration at its situation whatsoever.

On a closer look, any details of the tiny equine are obscured by layers upon layers of thick clothing including a wooly cap with side flaps and a hood over it, which leaves peeking out only a pair of goggles strapped around their head and a faint, teal shimmer hiding behind them. The muzzle itself is covered by multiple scarves stuck into a poofy, reflective, grey winter jacket. Clearly well-insulated from the frost and snow, the equine-shaped ball of clothes with legs sticking out gradually digs itself out of the hole, clears out some of the nearby snow with its hooves, briefly assesses the cart behind it, and resumes pulling.

The traveller occasionally stops, unbuckling themselves from the cart’s harness, and explores the surrounding trees, wiping off the snow from their bark roughly above their eye level. Often, they only need to uncover a singular tree that way, revealing easily visible arrow scratch marks deep in the tree bark, but whenever they fail, they take off a thick hoof cover from one of their forelegs and, with a green flash, scratch a new one into the unmarked tree before quickly putting the hoof cover back on and resuming pulling the cart. Some of the marks seem old, partially regrown, meaning that the traveller must have taken this route many times before, something which their experience at pulling the cart across frozen streams with lines of rocks spread exactly wheel-wide hints at as well.

Eventually, the seemingly solid treeline of the Everfree starts thinning out, announcing the final stretch of the forest journey, and the traveller spots a familiar clearing where they usually catch a breath and take stock of everything before crossing over into the Badlands. Said familiarity, however, makes the small equine confidently stride forward and immediately trip over a root hidden under the treacherous snow.

“Eep!” they yelp, rolling forward, pushed by the heavy cart, until both slide down a small slope into the clearing, the pony now a ball of snow hanging by the harness between the handles of the sideways overturned cart. After shaking their head and letting loose the snow caught on their many scarves wrapped around their neck and muzzle, the pony frees themselves with several experienced tugs at the harness’ straps and drops into the disturbed snow, “Oh goop, I hope nothing broke!”

With surprising strength for such a small pony, they push the cart the right way up again and begin inspecting a huge package repeatedly wrapped in waterproof tarp and fastened with multiple ropes which is taking up almost the entire cart, mostly by random prodding.

“Hmmm, the padding seems to be fine, and it’s not as if I can get back in time to replace anything anyway,” they sigh and scrunch their muzzle in determination. Well, probably, because the clothes and goggles reveal absolutely nothing about the traveller, “The guys won’t mind a few cracks or dents anyway. They add personality.”

Next, they inspect a second, smaller package in front of the cart, this time in much more detail, revealing a strange mix of a crate and a suitcase split into many sections containing various household items and weatherproofed packages. Of course, smaller this time only means that it could still comfortably fit the tiny traveller inside with enough space left over, which actually seems to be the point of one section of the strange design. When the traveller finishes their inspection, they turn around to resume their journey and find themself facing a pair of glowing yellowish-green eyes locked on them.

“Uh oh, you sticky biters are pretty sneaky in that snow, you know that? Or maybe Luna overdid it with the flappy caps this time. I told her I’d be fine with just two…” they spread their legs for stability, facing the now growling timberwolf that’s approaching, ready to pounce, and quickly taking off their hoof covers, “Shouldn’t you be hype- hiber- hyper napping during freezy time?”

The timberwolf pounces, mouth full of sharp teeth ready to rip the traveller into pieces open.

“Itwasjustasuggestion!” the equine darts just enough to the side to avoid the mouth snapping their way mid-jump. Before the following swipe of the timberwolf’s foreleg can connect, though, the black hoof the equine glows green and, in one swing aimed near the wolf’s barrel, the traveller punches the wolf’s leg clean off with seemingly no resistance. As the wolf lands on the ground, losing balance post-pounce suddenly with only three legs, the traveller quickly hops towards its barrel and shatters the wolf’s wooden skull with a green-glowing right hook.

“Eeep, coldcoldcoldcold!” the traveller immediately finds their hoof covers again, wipes their forelegs off using a semi-frozen piece of cloth hanging from the side of the cart, blows on them, and puts the covers on again, “Heee, much better.”

Its ears twitch, or at least the set of hats and a fluffy hood drawn over the traveller’s head moves, and they turn away from the cart once more, now revealing five more timberwolves who growl when their prey faces them.

“Okay, this is not gablonk,” the traveller’s voice turns serious, “Where’s a good hole when you need one?”

***

Deep underground, one would expect there to be eerie silence, interrupted only occasionally by dripping water or maybe a quiet skitter of some insect hunting or falling prey to a different creature. Here, however, in a tunnel which looks distinctly unnatural with its smoothed out walls and floor dotted with shallow grooves, echoes the thundering of hooves which is almost drowned out by the screeching of… something extremely hungry.

A duo of small, black equines with glowing teal eyes, chitinous carapace covering their body, and various holes in their legs round a bend in the tunnel, gasping for air and galloping as fast as they can. The ‘why’ becomes apparent a second later when a horrifying, wriggling mass of black centipedes so thick that they look like a living carpet spurts out like sludge pushed through a pipe. The ravenous insects are quick, and it’s clear that the main reason why the two fleeing changeling drones haven’t been caught yet are the smooth tunnel walls narrowing towards the ceiling on which a good chunk of the mass is trying to climb and failing, slowing others down in the process.

Unlike the changelings most ponies would recall either personally from the Canterlot invasion, the descriptions in the newspapers which followed, or the pictures and photos circulating afterwards, these changeling drones, while still small compared even to a pony, look leaner, are more agile, and one can vaguely even see their carapace copying the shape of something someone healthy would call muscles. In short, these are still recognizably changeling drones, though seemingly ones that got a dose of the good old ‘being at least occasionally fed and doing basic exercise’.

All those advantages and changes which benefited the drones, from their physical health to the grooves in the floor of the tunnel itself giving their hooves better friction so that they don’t slip and run faster, are what’s still keeping the duo alive.

At least until the entire tunnel rumbles and shakes, and one of the drones trips over its own hoof, falling on the floor. The other one only glances backwards and grits its teeth when the lying drone doesn’t even try to stand up, and just nods. A fraction of a second later, it hears a hiss, a faint poof sounding like a sudden rush of foam or steam, and keeps running.

Author's Note:

As always - suggestions, ideas, interactions, or anything else are welcome.
I'm not sure about update schedule yet.
Finally, if anyone wants to draw a fitting cover of better quality than Nameless(TM-totally mutilated), I'll definitely use it.

Comments

[Booster Spice]

Thats gonna be a whole load of roast wriggly biters.

[Scyphi]

They're ba-ack...

“Damn you, sudden, unexpected hole!"

All right, who taught the drones how to swear? (Actually, it sounds like there's a good chance this is 65536, so it was probably bat ponies who taught it to swear...but just in case it isn't...)

[Changeling404]

*kneels and prays* "Just please... don't send 65536 to the great gablonk... after the last story, I don't think my heart can take it..."
I MEAN, hey look! Another story from one of my favorite authors... and so soon! IM SO EXCITED!

[D-F]

ayeee!! new story!
does this take place right after the events of 'they're on a holiday' or has it been a while since then?

[Nameless Narrator]

11663709
As long as there are no crunchED huggers we're okay.
11663875
Those ... after they're back scare me.
I DID A GOOD!
11663904
65536? Where? That's a totally secret traveller with secret identity that's extremely secret.
Also, there might be sads. The previous story had consequences.
11664005
1,5-2 years-ish? 6 years since the invasion as the long desc says. I had to make notes for myself because at this point even I don't know. It's probably in the next chapter, but I have to keep updates short until I build some buffer.

[Changeling404]

11664035
Well... consequences I can understand... sads I can accept and even appreciate (usually)...
But... Hug Bug and Luna Bug... please... not them... anyling but them...
LOL... in seriousness, I'm just really attached to those two... But I entirely understand.
Soon I will be writing hopefully...
And I know a few of mine will have BIG sads in them. I'm just being an idiot here in the comments because I've been gone a long time.

If a character must go for the story, then they will go. And asking an author to spare a character is silly. If they oblige it could even hurt their story if they NEED that character to go.
... but seriously 2.0, though...
Please... spare them... LOL

[Changeling404]

11664133
I feel I took the half-joke too far on the serious side in the opposite direction from fear of sounding like I was pestering you, ruining it... hmmm...
Probably should have cut the second half/paragraph of the comment...
I'll just... keep quiet for a bit, heh... sorry.

[Nameless Narrator]

11664318
Who knows? Drones might get lucky for once.

[Changeling404]

11664353
For once... HAHAHA! Yeah...
Who knows? I know I'm gonna need a bucket of ice cream and some markiplier videos after... I jest... Anyway, I look forward to the story!

[Farnham]

It continues! Yes!

[Nameless Narrator]

11664826
slowly but surely