Chapter 36: Rule Number One
The moist heat was miserable. Sweat beaded on their matted coats as they trudged through undergrowth. Polaris followed Frosty close, less than a body length. Like so many other barbed branches before she mowed this particular one down and let it slide beneath her belly. A particular thorn, however, twisted mid-way and made for the left side of her passing belly.
It snagged on her bikini bottoms and, at her pace, the meager garment stood no chance at all. The bottoms were ripped away and her bunched-up tail left nothing at all for cover.
“Uh-oh.” Frosty whispered in concern, pupils shrinking.
PW looked ahead to see what the trouble was and he was able to confirm then and there that the Night-Mare was, beyond any doubt, a mare.
“Agh!” He gawked, covering his eyes like a gentlecolt with both his wings and forehooves.
“Shit.” Frosty clicked her tongue. “You saw me, didn’t you?”
PW held his tongue.
“Don’t lie.”
“Yes! I’m so sorry!” PW cried.
Frosty looked back and found him covering his face, a bead of blood dripping down onto the dried mud he was standing on.
She huffed. “Well, it’s not like it was avoidable. My rump is at eye level, after all.” She admitted.
She noticed the drops of blood increase. “Okay… probably shouldn’t have said that. No big deal. I have a spare.” She said, backing up into the thicket. “As well as a more mindful step around snagging branches.”
PW held his wings in front of his eyes as self-punishment the entire time Frosty re-armored.
“It’s safe now. And I have to say; you’re quite modest.” She said, turning to resume trail-blazing
“Oh, my nose is bleeding!” PW said, finally opening his eyes. “And, yeah; I know you pros hate it when a stallion acts inappropriately.”
“Well, it’s very clear to me you recognize that and want to avoid it. So, great job! You have lots of self-control and know how to conduct yourself like an adult. Like a gentlecolt. Alright, we’re rolling.” She swung the machete and moved forward.
“Aye-aye ma’am!” He responded, relieved he wasn’t about to have his eyes torn out.
The flat jungle floor gave way to a small drainage ditch that got deeper as they went along. PW and Frosty came across a small spring that fed a stream and they were able to walk down this stream bed like a natural road save for the occasional fern, vine, mud-hole, or fallen log that had to be avoided.
It was in one particular location that PW found himself walking on something squishy. He thought it may have been mud but it was springy, and didn’t catch his hooves as mud ought to.. The substance was a pale gray color, with lots of small, interleaving stones a few inches wide that perfectly overlapped. The stones seemed locked into the bottom. He took another step and froze. There was a large flat, roughly triangular object in the creek in front of him.
“Shit!” PW whispered in fear and squinted. “Celestia; that scared me! What the heck is that?”
He thought he could make out a pair of shut eyes but it was difficult to tell. He knew there was no way it could have been alive; the thing looked dead. All this studying the little assistant was doing let his superior officer get on ahead of him. Suddenly, PW felt a pair of hooves behind him.
“Gah!” He cried, feeling instead two tentacles take hold of his flanks from the rear. He peered down and was just in time to see another pair grabbing hold of his knees. PW looked down in alarm as he followed the shape and color of the tentacles, underneath him towards the big, dead head.
“Fuck!” PW shouted in fear, trying to move against the creature grasping him. A third pair of tentacles grabbed his flanks, holding him back.
PW thought quickly and pushed his hind legs back at the same angle the tentacles were coming from, avoiding being pulled down. A fourth pair of tentacles grabbed him, however, and he was quickly growing fatigued.
“Frosty?!” He yelled.
Upon a fifth pair of tentacles grabbing him, his pelvis and legs were under so much stress that they began to sear with pain, as though his very bones were being crushed. “Frosty! Come quick!” He cried.
With that a sixth pair emerged from the stream bed and he had no choice but to yield or have his bones snap. Upon relaxing the grasping appendage yanked him to the stream bed. It was at this point that the eyes in front of him flew open and the water parted as the awakened creature rose from the water to face him.
“FROSTY! FROSTY, NOW! HELP, FROSTY!” Polaris screamed in panic.
He rummaged through his saddlebag for something, anything to defend himself with as the monster opened its maw to reveal a gaping throat and wild, lapping tongue. “FROSTY! I’M GONNA BE EATEN ALIVE!”
Just as it leaned in for the kill a sudden *snap!* was heard and the thing flew sideways to the ground. Frosty stepped over its corpse.
“Oh! Thank goodness!” PW sputtered as she yanked the thing’s still-gripping appendages off. She pulled PW to his hooves.
“Rule number one, Polaris?” Frosty asked, holding him close and staring out at him in disappointment as a scolding mother would her foal.
“Everything will try to eat me.” He answered, smacking a mosquito.
She nodded. “I do believe that puts me on the board for saving your life.” She declared, setting him back onto the stream bed. PW thought for a while, trying to craft a retort to fight her statement but he knew nothing would be accomplished with him arguing. He simply hung his head and nodded.
“We have a mission to accomplish. Follow closely!” She ordered and resumed the journey.
“Yes ma’am!” He recommitted himself to remaining in the spacious shadow of her rear.
Polaris followed just behind Frosty, following her every move around vines, over-top logs, and through underbrush. They left the stream as it wound eastward again and hacked a path southward, up and down hilly jungle terrain. In addition to the eye gnats and mosquitoes there were now bees harassing them, attracted to the moisture in their eyes and the salt in their sweat.
And how much salt there was! No air moved in the hot jungle. The temperature was sweltering and the humidity had to be just as high. Beads of sweat ran down the ponie’s coats. PW watched the drops form near the top of the Night-Mare’s rump, rolling and curling down her long legs on which every muscle became readily visible. As her hips swayed a drop or two would occasionally be sent his way. Already struggling with the heat, his panting breaths quickened.
“PW.” Frosty stopped and turned.
“Huh?” He was snapped out of his daze and blinked the sweat from his eyes.
“You’re slowing down.”
“R- really? I’m keeping up with you…” He started.
“You are keeping up because I am slowing down to keep you with me.”
“... Oh.” He sighed
“Remember your basic training! Left! Left! Left, right!” She shouted, stomping off again.
“Hey, wait! Your gait is nearly twice mine! I physically cannot match that in rhythm or speed!” He complained.
“Hiss of hungry py-thons!” Sang Frosty. Her assistant suddenly accelerated to his spot again.
The land’s topography, which had been crumpled up and down in an unsettled pattern to this point, started gently downwards for a while. For the first time, up ahead in the understory, PW saw what might be a clearing. The temperature lessened as they descended. As Frosty cut out the last vegetation he found it was not a clearing but the banks of a narrow, muddy river.
“Tell me, where is south?” Asked Frosty.
Her assistant pulled out his compass and pointed straight ahead, across the river. “Then we need to cross. They say still waters run deep, right PW?”
“Uh… I don’t think that’s meant to be literal.” He looked at her.
“Well let’s find out! Go ahead.” She nudged him down the bank.
He stepped into the murk and quickly lost his footing, sinking up to his belly.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Frosty!” He warned.
“We don’t have all day!” Was her curt reply pushing his rump into the cloudy river.
“Ugh! My b-balls are freezing!” He chittered as his undercarriage suddenly submerged.
“I don’t have that problem. For two reasons.” She stepped in gracefully up to her hocks.
“Oh, how c-convenient!” He rolled his eyes and took another step, this time sinking to his withers. PW whinnied, finding he was quickly running out of height. The heavy saddlebag full of gear was holding him to the bottom and he wouldn’t be able to swim.
Frosty was running out of patience. She trudged past him, revealing that the water was, in fact, very deep. She in up to her neck before rearing to her full height. Realizing she had not heard her loyal assistant following, turned around and crossed her forehooves in a display of impatience.
“C’mon!” She called out to him. Feeling challenged, PW stepped forwards again, and the water was now at his chin. He looked out at Frosty and knew that he didn’t have a chance of making it through.
“We’re sitting ducks right now.” Frosty said.
Realizing he was letting her down, PW balanced on his hind hooves and reared, gaining approximately another foot in height. Balancing was another matter entirely. He braced himself and tried to account for the weight on his back and the slipperiness of the bank. He took a tentative step forward
But the short pegasus was quickly defeated by the unforgiving environment. In one step he lost all of the height he gained in rearing. His next step would threaten to put his muzzle under, and he tipped it up to be able to breathe above the brown water. With his eyes looking level across the rippling surface of the river at Frosty, and feeling no mud underneath his hoof outstretched for his next step, he was done for.
“Frostyyy-gy-gy-gy-ggg!” He bubbled before submerging completely.
The familiar sounds of the jungle- the toucans, mosquitos, crickets, and monkeys, fell silent as they were replaced with the soft howl of slow flowing water, broken occasionally by the crack of his joints or the flick of a nearby fish’s tail. Gone too were the sights- filtered sunlight, dark green vegetation, his Night-Mare, replaced with a nearly black, blurry fog.
Try as he might to swim (including flapping his wings), PW couldn’t lift himself off the bottom with his gear weighing him down. Of course, he always could have abandoned his gear but that would mean abandoning the mission. With no other choice he dropped down to all fours and began turning around to climb out until something large came under his belly and scooped him up.
’Cragodile? Caiman? Anaconda? Electric Eel?’ Wondered the inundated pegasus.
He gasped as he was hoisted from the water, blinking his eyes to clear the grit away. He made eye contact with his rescuer, Frosty, just as she began marching the crossing to the south again. She was submerged neck-deep before the channel bottomed out and she started making her way up the other bank. She dropped PW into the water once it was shallow enough to walk in.
They were silent as they walked up the other bank. “3 and 2 now.” She finally muttered, shaking wildly.
“No, I was going to climb out! And, I could have escaped by taking my saddlebag off.” Refuted PW.
“Are you saying you didn’t need my help?” She looked to him from higher up on the bank.
“No! Not at all. I needed your help to reduce our target profile! So the enemy would have less time to act.” He gave a small, wry smile.
She hummed. “Alright, Polaris. That’s a pretty good defense. I’ll let you off the hook. 3-1 it remains.”
“Yes!” The slimy, muddy pegasus pumping his soaking hooves.
They clambered up the bank and just as the terrain began to level out PW felt only air where the ground should be.
“Woah!” He cried, stumbling back, rolling onto the ground to avoid the pitfall. Frosty looked down, confused at first, then smiled. Checking her surroundings, she pulled a pile of ferns from the ground to reveal a deep pit with shaven bamboo spears.
“Good job, buddy! You found a bamboo pit!” Frosty commended, pulling a spear out to inspect it. She licked the end and spat. “Poison tipped. Good thing you didn’t keep going. Though you being so light maybe you wouldn’t even trip the trap.” She shrugged as PW frowned back at her, displeased with the joke. “Let's keep a keen eye out for baddies.” Frosty ordered, snapping the twig in two.
They resumed their southward march, all the while picking up more leaf litter, cobwebs, and other gross things on their wet manes. A few minutes later it was becoming apparent to PW that Frosty was habitually scratching at her left, fore fetlock. After half an hour or so she had enough and sat down.
“What the buck is… oh.” Frosty realized, folding back her fur.
“What is it?” PW asked in concern.
“Got a maggot.” She showed PW her fetlock. A small worm had indeed burrowed into her skin.
“Ugh! Gross!” He reeled, nearly retching. He started checking himself when he heard a slurping sound and a gulp.
He couldn’t help but gag this time. “Frosty. That is disgusting! Even coming from a former-teenage stallion from Marewaukee!”
“The problem was solved, though. And it’s extra protein!”
“If you eat shit you become shit.” He said, fighting his disgust.
Frosty walked up to him and placed her hand on Windy’s head.
“What did I tell you? In the jungle it’s eat… or be eaten.” With that she resumed the march.
With his own hooves coming up clean he trotted behind her. “We should whisper. If we passed a trap we should be getting close to the target.” 2 suggested.
PW took out his compass. “Let’s head more southwest. I don’t want to overshoot this place.”
“Very well.” Frosty answered, adjusting her course more to the right.
Minutes later, from one of the shadows cast by the giant trees, a black object sailed over Polaris’ back and onto Frosty. It bounced off her back and rolled out in front of them before regaining its footing.
“A puma!” Shouted PW, seeing the creature his size looking up at them.
“Are you fucking stupid?” The Night-Mare shouted, continuing her march towards the creature as if nothing happened.
The starving jungle cat, realizing its mistake, ran off into the foliage. “It must have been very hungry to try that move on you, Frosty.” PW realized.
“I think you’re onto something. I’m wondering if this may be the port’s ‘guard dog’, starved to the point of wanting to eat ponies sneaking in. In this case obviously, making a huge mistake.”
As evening loomed, longer shadows were cast on the forest floor. “Check our direction, Polaris. I would think we’re getting close.” Frosty ordered.
He paused as ordered and took the bearing.
“Still southwest, making maybe a mile an hour. From the canoe I bet it’s a ten-hour trek. We may be only halfway there…” He let the words hang as his eyes went wide.
He looked down.
The ground he stood on had consumed his hooves and fetlocks. He tried pulling free and only sank further, up to his hocks. “Frosty, I think I’m in quicksand!” PW tried not to panic but was already wavering.
“I can see that.” She responded, slinking off into the brush.
“Are you going to help me?” Asked PW, sliding in further to his belly and the ground under him liquefied.
“No.” He barely made out her whisper.
“No?!”
“Quicksand cannot drown you. The dirt is three times denser than your body. Even with the heavy pack on, you cannot go under.” She explained.
“Frosty?” PW asked, now up to his flanks and growing concerned nonetheless.
She put a finger to her mouth to hush him. The ground turned to liquid under the pressure, diluting the heavy sand around him. His withers were next to sink.
“It’s not stopping!” He cried.
She again put up a finger to hush him. “Must obey. Must obey!” PW reminded himself.
As he sank to his neck, he noticed Frosty out of the corner of his eye taking out her pistol and screwing the silencer on. Then, he heard rustling behind him. There was a loud snuff.
“DUCK!” She shouted, pushing his head in the quicksand. He heard a splat and a whoosh, then looked up.
“Alright. Now look behind you.” Frosty ordered.
PW turned around and saw a dead, bleeding Kirin splayed over a bush.. Then he looked forward and saw a blowgun dart stuck in the path in front of him.
“Now do you get it?” Frosty asked
“Yeah! This is a trap!” PW realized.
Frosty climbed around the vegetation, reached out and grabbed PW’s shoulders, hauling him out of the pit.
The large mare looked down at her soggy, dripping, mud coated assistant.
“Oh PW… what am I to do with you…” Frosty muttered with ever lower sanity. PW could only smile back sheepishly up at her, dripping more mud.
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If this is how PW and Frosty are making ways to the base, I can only imagine how Recce's trek is going
Frosty is coming off as kind of abusive here, taking PW for granted and treating him like garbage.
This isn’t the first time this has happened either.
I'm surprised PW didn't try flying low over that river.
11996645
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Yes, she is slipping back into her old mistakes. This time, given the dangerous environment, it'll reach a boiling point and teach them both some lessons about what happens when they can't work together as a team
11996689
Yes- if Frosty weren't slowly losing her sanity she would've worked something out where she'd take his extra gear for him to swim across. But she's gone quite mad. Welcome to the jungle, it gets worse here every day...
11996546
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She too is very likely slowly losing sanity... hold onto something
11996963
Ahhh, ok. I like that take! Going to wait and see what develops.