Lost foals wake, alone in the Everfree forest. This test to survive will result in them learning what it means to be a pony.
Lost foals wake, alone in the Everfree forest. Against the growling hordes of the countless monsters who reside there, they must fight to survive in this hostile environment. Fighting along side one another, they will learn how to not only survive, but thrive in the dark.
(My First Fic, and to anyone wondering about the lack of characters, at first, my ocs, but later some characters from the main series will be introduced, Pinkie Promise)
The young Timber wolf scouted it's territory, having been recently forced to leave its pack to hunt on its own. It was starving, not eating for several days had made it slow and drained its magic reserves to the point where it could barely regenerate. So far he had only found 3 manticore cubs, which seemed quite appetizing until the mother came along, who tossed him into a termite infested log. The wolf shuddered at the memory of pain that those little insects could cause. To think, something as powerful as his species could be brought to their knees by something so tiny.... But, the past is the past, he must focus on searching for something edible.
His search had led him across his new territory, but the only thing, he had found so far were insects, a squirrel, parasprites (which were quickly avoided), and two adult phoenixes, avoided because of their potent fire magic. Even to the powerful Timber Wolves, the Forest was still a dangerous place. They primarily survived because of the pack, which together were arguable the most feared and powerful force in the entire forest. However, HE had the brilliant idea to anger the alpha, and then had to make the decision to run away and try to create his own pack. That didn’t seem to be happening, however, and if he didn’t start soon, he would most likely splinter in only a few years of this hellish existence outside the pack.
The wolf sniffed, trying to find a meal, and used a little bit of its magic to search in the trees. This was such tedious work, boring, and almost always came up with ABSOLUTELY NOTHI.....wait, is that? Ohhhhh it is, a small living creature, with a sizable magic storage itself. This would be perfect, it could feed him for weeks! It soon saw his new meal, a newly hatched phoenix. As it knew from experience, a grown phoenix was deadly to the wooden wolves, but a youngster was unable to fly away fast enough, or engulf itself into flame. All he had to do was climb the tree, and then he would have his me....wait, no that wouldn't work. Now he could understand the irony of this situation, his species, beasts made of tree parts, were unable to actually climb trees themselves. Normally he would just absorb the branch the chick was standing on, but his magic had to be saved, just in case. Ok, new plan, wait for chick to get out of the tree, and if the parents come, run for the hills. Wait, no, no hills nearby, then he should run for deeper parts of the woods. Then, it waited, and waited, and waited and waited and waited
and waited
and waited
and waiteeeeeee.......zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The wolf woke up, to the sound of tapping. Groggily he opened one eye, and saw something amazing. The phoenix was tapping ON HIS SNOUT! This must be the easiest hunt ever, so he hit it with his paw. The phoenix did not do the desired reaction however, instead of falling down and dying on the spot like a good, polite prey, it jumped and started a strange, wobbling flight, most likely from its small, undeveloped wings. The wolf, deciding not to spend much energy on this, walked after the weak bird, almost at a casual pace. The bird continued like this for another few feet, then turned its head, and realizing the wolf was indeed following, changed quickly into a fasted glide, smooth and quick. Great, the wolf thought, now I have to run to catch this thing. And so starting a jog, he followed it, knowing it would eventually tire, and then he would have dinner.
The wolf was panting from exhaustion, now in full sprint, and then started to notice the first signs of the Phoenix's tiring. The wing were beating faster, its breath was quicker and deeper, and it was slightly slowing. Soon the bird would tire and the meal might as well have been made. However, another mile and the wolf would half to give up or it would begin to collapse. It seemed that he was almosed at that point already. Slowly, he started to feel a weird feeling in his foot, and upon inspection found cracks spreading throughout some wood in his body, to the point where one good hit would shatter him. Suddenly, the bird flew into a clearing, and into a tree on the north side. This could be the wolf's lucky break, so he snuck over to the tree and attempted to climb it. Finding the hole the chick was hiding in, he was just about to consume the young phoenix when a bright flash occurred, temporarily blinding both beasts. After their vision cleared, both temporarily forgot their situation to scan for what had started the flash. At first, there seemed to be little difference, however, after a few scans of the surrounding area, the small fire bird squawked toward a large tree, causing the large wooden wolf to sniff the area. Soon finding a small, but growing, disturbance in the nearby magical energies. It was clear something was unconscious, and possibly had a great magic potential. After the scent was large enough to be clearly smelt, the wolf walked toward the source. Soon he found a quadrupedal creature, complete with flesh! The only other thing he had seen at this size was a manticore cub, but this had clear differences, like a fur tail, short, centralized mane, well developed for one of his age, and a horn, not to metion the lack or claws, and the facial differences. But, since nothing else fit, it must be a manticore, just a different type, and with a lot more magic. The wolf decided to wait for it to wake, and if the mom came out, run. If not, he would have to see if it could be food. The timber wolf then curled up to sleep nearby, while the Phoenix watched from the large tree.
The foal woke to the deep shadow of an oak creaking as it blew in the breeze. At first, he only felt the softness of the grass, the soil’s density, and the breezes wafting through the trees. His second thought was even simpler, “WHERE THE BUCK AM I?!” He decided to get up and observe. Seeing himself in a large, circular clearing, he assumed that the next logical step was to walk around it. After this trek, he had found seven places for potential hiding spots, three trees with large roots, under which he could shelter, twelve flat rocks, four large and eight small, six sharp rocks of about equal size, a piece of coal, and too many of sticks and vines to count at the moment. After designating one of the trees as his storage area, and depositing and organizing each of the materials, he realized a very simple, important fact. He had no idea where he was geographically, nor did he know his name, or anything about his past, for that matter. He knew words, and their definitions, but not how he learned them. “Well, you’ll just have to name yourself then.” He said. “I need inspiration though, I guess a list could help.” He got out one of the larger rocks, and the coal, and wrote,
List 1: How to find a name
Step 1- Find appearance Step 2- Inspiring Surroundings Step 3- Talent Step 4- Make sure its good Step 5- Double check Step 6- Create list of names Step 7-Triple check Step 8- Decide
“OK, good, now for step one.” He exclaimed. Walking around the clearing a second time, and paying more attention to the surroundings, he noticed a small puddle of water behind a bush. Looking at it, he saw his reflection for the first time since he could remember. He was a dark blue foal, with red eyes, curved ears, a grey and black mane and tale, and, of course, his horn. This, he assumed, was a defense mechanism, meant to ram opponents with its sharp point. Overall, he seemed to be a darker shade, so he decided step 1 name was… Dark Shade. Not the best name, but it was better then nothing, he shrugged. Now for step 2, and as the puddle was near the opposite of inspiring, he decided to take another pass on the clearing. When he returned to the place he woke, he found few inspiring areas, namely the large oak, a large patch of stumps and large branches, a sleeping gold and red bird, and the beautiful night sky. As most of those didn’t work, his second option became Nocturne. “Now for talent, Ugg.” This one was fated to be the hardest, how is a young amnesiac supposed to learn what his talent is. He could split this into physical and non-physical talent. For the non-physical, he organized well, generated the idea for writing, and seemed knowledgeable, so Idea Draw………Oh Celestia that was bad. “Fine, let’s just keep going to physical.” First, find a huge rock, try to pick it up, didn’t work. Second, try to break said rock, get headache. Third, repeat to sapling, and fail miserably. Finally, try to stab sapling with horn, and proceed to get stuck for a good 10 minutes looking like an idiot. After that, the foal, frustrated at his “humiliation” wrote as his physical name, Weak Jab. For the next Step, the Talent names were crossed off, leaving Dark Shade and Nocturne as potential candidates, after double and triple checking the list; he was put into his decision. Either Dark Shade, referencing his image, and how other things viewed him, or Nocturne, referencing the night he woke to. He decided on Nocturne, with Dark Shade as a backup, if after a week he disliked his new name. “Well, that’s it for the name decision, time to rest.”
Going over to the stumps, he sat down and relaxed. Only one thing he found as a little odd, when he touched one of the pieces of wood, a strange static shock hit him. After a small wince at the discomfort, Nocturne looked toward the moon, just beyond the curve of midnight. In the distance, he saw a storm, looming in the horizon. “That is something that needs preparation, and quickly!” Rushing to storage, Nocturne gathered the small and large stones, some vine, and some sticks. After bringing it to his residence, he proceeded to make a basic shelter, covering up holes with rocks, tying them done with vines, covering the vines with compacted mud, and making internal framework from sticks. After jumping on the outside, and deeming it stable, he stepped back to see the aesthetics of the structure. It looked… shabby, to be kind. In fact, that might be the understatement of the millennia; it looked ugly, almost rotten. As time past, he would have to build around it, making a proper home.
Getting some more sticks and two of the sharp rocks, he decided to make a small fire in the part of the clearing he awoke in. After five minutes, the sparks created by the rocks had grown into a small flame, enough to warm the small foal to the bone. After the warming, the foal decided to wake the chick, see if it wanted to get out of the storm. After hitting the tree repeatedly, Nocturne decided instead to throw a pebble up there, hitting the bird. The phoenix woke with a start, screeching and squawking loudly, enough that the foal had to cover his ears for a second, drowning out the sound of timber slowly moving across dirt, grass, and rock.
However, Nocturne did notice the great beast known as a Timber Wolf rise out of the ground, and realized that it was the same stumps that he was sitting on just moments earlier. As he tried to sneak into the shadows, the wolf started to sniff the ground he woke up on, then walked toward his house. After sniffing there, it turned, and ran directly toward Nocturne. Fear took over, as the beast grew closer, closing the distance between them in a matter of seconds. Nocturne gave one last effort, and pointed his horn at the creature. Suddenly, a black spark emitted from the tip, expanded to about the size of his head, and flung itself at the attacker. When the two forces came into contact, the wooden beast was shot backward, the ball still pushing against his chest, and upon hitting a large stone, shattered, absorbing the ball.
Nocturne breathed a sigh of relief, thanking everything he could think of for allowing that to happen. However, he was confused, what did he do, what was that thing, and were there more of them. Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t see a claw, the nearest piece to him, start to vibrate and slide against the ground. Frightened beyond what he could previously imagine, Nocturne rushed into his home, and sealed the entrance with whatever he could find. Sitting completely still in the middle of the hut, he then started to hear the most frightening sound he could remember, footsteps of something large against his roof. Knowing he would die, Nocturne curled up into a ball, and began to cry, right as the rain started pouring outside.
The Timber Wolf had felt this creature’s power, when being hit with that hostile attack, he had been hurt, but absorbing it had filled him completely. He had decided to have this new thing join his pack, as a hunter of magic, and he would even let the bird in, as mascot. OOOORRR he could eat it, he liked that plan better, but better wait for entire pack, go over to shelter that the new pack member went into, and go to sleep.