> Collab Cage Mini-Monthly May (B) -- Trouble in Bloom > by The Collab Cage > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Bellis Perennis > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Written by: DarkPhoenix Flowers are perhaps one of the most noticed, yet most overlooked plants in existence. Everypony notices a beautiful rose, or a lily floating in the pond, but few ponies take the time to recognize or even acknowledge the more common flowers. The sunflowers, the carnations, the mums, nopony gives these a second glance, or even a first. No, most ponies are content to go about their day in peace, not noticing the flowers who give them such wondrous beauty, who fill their lives with color. Maybe a nice bouquet from time to time, or perhaps a sandwich, would draw their attention. In Ponyville park, where the flowers are allowed to grow free, unrestrained by such things as garden plots and fences, there exists many flowers. Growing in clumps, ponies frolic and play amongst them. One such flower was a common Bellis Perennis. If somepony were to make a definition of “Average flower,” then a picture of this particular flower would be right next to that definition. It stood no taller nor shorter than its fellows. It had no additional petals, the flower part was no larger. It was in all respects, average amongst a clump of average. But this flower had something special: it had a desire. From the time it had first peeked its head above the soil, soon after the winter snows had been cleared away, the flower had seen many things. Most of what it saw were ponies, come to visit the park. Life for a flower in Ponyville park was hard. There were many dangers which threatened to end their lives prematurely. This particular flower had survived the spring rains which had washed away so many others. Wandering hooves could trample it at a moments notice, but so far it had been spared. Other dangers, such as being picked, were welcome to flowers. As much as they loved being able to show off their colors and arrange their petals just so, to be picked and displayed in a house, or given to somepony else as a gift was the desire for all flowers. Our flower, the flower, desperately desired to be picked. Every morning it would make sure its petals were arranged in the most eye-catching, pleasing manner possible. It would tilt its head, pointing it toward the sun so as to absorb the most sunlight, ensuring maximum nutrition. Day after day it waited, blowing in the warm breeze. Day after day, ponies came to the park. Every time a pony came near the flower, it got excited. Was this it? Was this the pony that would pick it and give it away? But it was always disappointed. Some days it had been so close. It could remember one time when a pair of fillies were playing nearby, picking flowers and weaving them into crowns. Closer and closer they came, giggling and laughing, talking to each other. Just as they were getting close, only two more flowers before it, a voice rang out and the fillies ran away. The flower was sad. It had come so very close. Another few seconds and he would’ve been added to the a crown. Another time and another little pony, a colt this time, was picking flowers, bunching them up in a hoof. He wandered through the clump, eyeing various flowers and pulling them at random. The flower made sure it was presentable, petals spread wide. The colt’s eyes ran over it, before stopping and coming back. Just as he was reaching out, hoof mere inches from the flower, he noticed something that made him gasp and freeze. The flower waited, hoping, praying that the colt would continue what he was doing. But it was not to be, the colt ran off towards a mare. Happily he presented the bunch of flowers to the mare, who smiled and thanked him. Once more the flower had been denied being a part of something special. Once more it was forced to watch as other flowers got picked, left behind feeling disappointment, sadness. Soon, it told itself, soon it would get picked and get its chance to be something. Today was no different day. It had rained the other day, so the only ponies coming into the park were dashing through, none stopping to pick flowers. But today the sun was shining and many ponies were outside enjoying the day. The flower spread its petals wide, making sure to sway in the breeze to draw eyes towards it. There was no bend in its stem, so when the wind was still it stood straight and proud. The park was full most of the day, foals running about while parents sat in the grass or on benches, watching them. A few ponies brought their pets out, tossing objects for them to fetch or just enjoying a nice walk. Blankets were set out for lunch, baskets full of food presented. A few ponies sampled the flowers, adding them as a garnish, but not our flower. Fillies and colts picked flowers, but not our flower. No, the sun was setting and ponies were leaving, and the flower still stood, planted firmly in the ground. Another day passed and it was stuck once more in the park. As the sun set and the moon rose to take its place, two ponies approached the clump. A stallion and a mare, they came and sat down near the flower, eyes towards the rising moon. They spoke to each other, though the flower wasn’t paying any attention to what they said. It was too lost in its disappointment at being overlooked once more. The ponies sat there amidst the flowers, looking at the moon. Or at least the mare was. The stallion was looking around, eyes shifting across the ground. The flower took notice of this and quickly stood up straight. It waited, waiting. The stallions eyes moved across it, continuing on. Just as it was about to give up hope again, eyes found it. The stallion locked his eyes on the flower. Quick glances back towards the mare, and with a swift move, the flower was plucked from the ground, cradled in a hoof. Elation flowed through the flower. Finally, after so long spent waiting and watching others get picked, it was finally its turn. Here it was, being held by a stallion. Now all that was left was to see what it was going to be used for. The stallion held up the flower to the mare. Her eyes went wide, and she smiled. With gentle movements, he tucked the flower behind her ear. The flower floated in a cloud of pure joy. This was it, this was its purpose, its meaning in life. Right here, in this moment, being presented to a mare by her stallion was all it needed. Rather than be a part of a bunch, it was single, solitary, which made it all the more special. The ponies embraced, a quick kiss passing from the mare to the stallion. They walked off, the flower kept safe behind the mare’s ear, content with everything. No matter what happened next, it was satisfied, fulfilled. Its desire had been sated. > Lily Finds a Weed > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Written by: Admiral Biscuit Lily found the plant first. She and Daisy were exploring the edge of the Everfree, hoping to find some wildflowers to improve their stock. It was an annual tradition for the two. Everypony knew that weird plants grew in the Everfree, although neither of the mares was stupid enough or brave enough to venture inside its borders to see for themselves. They’d heard enough stories about what those plants could do to a pony. On the other hoof, the border of the forest was not a clear delineation, and like most growing things it tried to take whatever ground it could get. Thus, the border was often home to new and different plants. On an early spring day when business back at the flower shop was slow, Rose would mind the counter and they’d make a picnic lunch and wander along the edge of the forest. Some years they found a plant that could be bred and sold as it was; other years they found ones that could be crossbred with their flowers. Most of the time, it didn’t turn out well, but every now and then they had spectacular results. The plant came up to her barrel, which was unusual this early in the year. Whatever it was, it grew fast. The thin serrated leaves stuck out around blossoms which reminded her of a lilac, although they were a dull reddish color. She sniffed it carefully. It had a vaguely skunky smell, although it also had sweet undertones with a slight earthy theme. Lilly pulled off a clump of leaves and began chewing them. They tasted odd at first, but the more she ate, the better she began to feel. She nibbled on some of the beautiful flowers, and they were heavenly. She looked back to the happy plant, and as it swayed in the gentle wind, it seemed to be waving at her, enticing her to take it back home. She pulled a trowel off her cart and began carefully digging around the roots before finally gently pulling it free from its earthen prison. Although she could have asked Daisy to lift it into the cart for her, she sometimes took pride in her utter inability to use any magic that wasn’t inherent in earth ponies, and this was one of those times. She filled the plant pot with dirt from the hole she’d excavated, and for good measure filled a second pot with the same soil. When they got back home, they’d study the sample to see what kind of nutrients the plant liked. Lily smiled. Finding the new plant had cheered her up immeasurably, and as a result, the sky seemed sunnier and the grass greener. She did feel hungry, despite the sun still being fairly low in the sky. She wasn’t sure what had brought that on, but the allure of the  picnic basket was irresistible. She knew that there was a bag of her favorite alfalfa crisps in there, and she really wanted some of them—all of them—right about now. She reached for the picnic basket, but got distracted when she caught sight of her hoof in the edge of her vision. She leaned forward to get a closer look. Hoof was such a strange name for it, she decided. She began to examine it closely, pondering what else it could have been called. “I can’t believe you found a new plant and I didn’t find anything,” Daisy muttered as the two pulled the wagon back into town. “Don’t you go taking credit for it,” Lily snapped, glaring at Daisy. “I found it, it’s mine.” “Woah, somepony’s got a burr under her harness. Did you eat too many crisps? Does your tummy hurt?” “I’m fine,” she muttered. “I just . . . I don’t know. I feel a little tired, I guess. Maybe a glass of chai will cheer me up.” She looked back at her new plant, cheerfully swaying back and forth in the wagon. “I can’t wait to start planting. I bet it’s going to grow really well, and if we can cross it with a flower, we might be able to diminish its smell.” “Yeah,” Daisy replied unenthusiastically. “I don’t know about that. It might make it unmarketable, except to ponies who don’t have a sense of smell.” “Are you calling my plant stinky?” Lily glared at her. Growing Lily’s new plant had been a snap. It seemed fairly tolerant of soil, and—perhaps not unexpectedly—grew like a weed. Soon, an entire seeding greenhouse was filled with the plants, while still more grew in neat rows alongside Lily’s flowers. They seemed to provide a nice bushy contrast to the thin spires of the Callas.  Unfortunately, cross-pollination had turned out to be an utter failure. Brush in teeth, they had tried to cross it with every flower they had, although none had produced any obvious results. It was too early to be sure, of course—the blooms might be something special—but samples of the leaves of the new plants tasted the same as normal. At first, Rose and Daisy had been unwilling to eat the new plant, but as they got more accustomed to the pungent odor emanating from the seeding greenhouse, it bothered them less and less. Within the course of a year, the mysterious weed had become a favorite snack of the three, and they had even discovered that it could be baked into treats or infused into tea. Like most of their plants, it could be dried and kept nearly indefinitely. Rose, being the most outgoing of the trio, had taken some to a private gig in Canterlot. The day after she passed out the free samples, she found herself deluged with orders, and the upper-class ponies seemed desperate to pay whatever it took to get some more of her special tea.  As soon as she got back to Ponyville, she reorganized their operation. Flowers were fine for Ponyville, but their new weed was immensely profitable. They couldn’t risk it getting into the wrong hooves and cutting into their margins. After selling the first crop, she spent all the money on a unicorn-designed grow-room, with an attached drying chamber, all neatly hidden at the back of their shop. One Year Later Daisy shook her head. “No, Lyra, these are all the flowers we have for sale. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. There are no others. There is not a secret depository of plants out back, and if there was, you still couldn’t see it.” “Yeah,” Lily chimed in. “There isn’t a special room full of special plants. Not at all.” One of the display shelves swung open. Daisy and Lily looked at it awkwardly, although its significance didn’t seem to register on Lyra’s face. Roseluck came through, holding a small bag of shredded green leaves. She spotted Lyra and casually, if slightly hastily, stuffed it into her mane and slammed the display shelf shut so quickly that all the glassware on it rattled. “Oh, hi Lyra, I didn’t know you were here.” She glared at Lily and Daisy. “Nopony said you were here.” “Yougottahelpme,” Lyra said, kneeling in front of the mare. “Those two say you haven’t got any other flowers or anything, and I need to find the perfect flower, and you just haven’t got it.” Rose stuck her nose up in the air. “We have the finest flowers in all of Ponyville,” she said. “Each one of them carefully raised from bulb or bud or whatever, using the most accomplished Earth Pony magic.” She looked down at Lyra. “If we don’t got it, nopony’s got it.” “You could always try the Everfree Forest. Flowers grow there all on their own. Ooooh.” Lily waved her hooves around to illustrate her point. “Yeah, and maybe you could see if Zecora has a ‘special’ flower for you.” Daisy mimicked Lily’s hoof-waving, and then the two burst into giggles. “Girls, really.” Rose gave them a stern look, the looked back down at Lyra. “I must agree with them, to a point. Perhaps a wildflower is more what you are seeking, rather than a cultivated flower. There’s a certain hardiness that wildflowers often have that cultivars lack. A kind of feral ruggedness.” She licked her lips. “But do be careful if you go into the Everfree. Don’t go in too far. Know your way out. There really are monsters in there; it isn’t an old mare’s tale.” “Okthanksseeyoubye.” Lyra trotted out the door. Rose looked over at the other two mares, who were still giggling. “Lyra’s got a special somepony,” Daisy said quietly. “Ooh, I bet it’s Carmel,” Lily suggested. “Oh please, I bet she’s got her eyes on Big McIntosh.” Daisy hugged herself. “Oh, I’d love to run my tongue across—“ “GIRLS!” Rose gave them a death stare. “Let’s be mature. Our customer’s private business is her own.” She pulled the small bag out of her mane. “Anyway, there’s no way she’d go for an earth pony. Bet it’s Thunderlane. Now,” she set the bag down on the table, “time to test another batch. Do we want to make tea, or brownies?” > The Tree > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Written by: Pond The oldest tree in Equestria is not located in a forest. The oldest tree in Equestria is in the heart of Canterlot, the blossoming capital city. It is not large or majestic or even green. It is a shriveled thing, a brown thing, a gnarled thing. To call it beautiful would be laughable. To call it simply “old” or “ancient” would be an insult. Few have ever seen it, and even fewer have ever loved it. It stands dusty and forgotten. Its trunk is blackened with age and riddled with holes from so many insects that feasted on its pulpy flesh for thousands upon thousands of generations. No birds have nested in its branches; no squirrels have used it for acrobatic feats and flights of fancy; no pony has rested in its shade and marveled at the magical world around them. But it is not a lonely tree, could trees be lonely. There is nothing to be lonely about. Would it have been better to be amongst its brothers and sisters, to create a canopy of color that dapples the forest floor? Would it have been better to be able to grow as large as it liked and spread its roots and its seeds and its leaves? Would it have been better to be cut down in its youth and turned into a coffee table? Perhaps, perhaps. Life is full of threads, of missed opportunities, of paths never taken. There is a window in the corner and from it, the tree looks down upon all of Canterlot. From that window, it has seen the follies of ponies greater than Celestia or Luna or the newly crowned Twilight Sparkle. All of them had paid no attention to the tree, but the tree had paid attention to them. What else was there to possibly do with oneself over millennia except pay attention? The tree had watched an endless stream of ponies and other creatures flow by the window like a millennia long river. There were droughts and wars and pestilence. There were galas, there was prosperity, there was magic. As the tree looks down, it can see it all. The Sacking of Canterlot, a dry year. The First Galloping Gala, a wet year. Wet, dry, dry, dry, wet, wet. Everything that ever was is recorded in its rings -- a living time capsule that contains more information than the entirety of all the libraries in Equestria combined. But it will never be seen by the eyes of ponykind, not until the rivers run dry and the fields lay fallow and the sun burns out. For the tree is the watcher of Equestria and only with Equestria’s end will it die. > Leaf and Sap, Blood and Fire > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Written by: Drakkith                                                                                                                                                                                     Alpha’s paw plunged into the cold stream he followed through the forest. Behind the ancient timberwolf his soon to be successor, Beta, shifted the kill in his mouth and splashed in Alpha’s wake, spraying the old wolf with droplets that melded together and streamed off his cracked, wooden backside before returning to their source. Alpha paused and looked ahead to where the shallow water curved out of sight behind a large tree-covered hill. His green, glowing eyes, each under an eyebrow comprised of a leaf, flared as he realized they were near their destination; the ursa cave. He called to his pack mate and they took off at a quick lope. Their bodies, each made wholly of pieces of various types of wood joined together with the innate magic of their species, creaked as they left the stream behind and made their way through the trees along the base of the hill until they arrived at a dark opening in the earth. Of course, Alpha was certain most of the creaking was done by his own gnarled body. It had been more than a few seasons since he had been able to sneak close to any prey. Not that this was a hinderance; his position as Alpha meant he was the huntsmaster, not one of the wolves that initiated the chase. An Alpha guided his pack during major hunts, ensuring they took down their prey as safely and efficiently as possible, as the safety of the pack was the primary concern of an Alpha. It was also their reason for coming to the ursa cave, Alpha reminded himself as he stared at the opening. The entrance was enormous. Easily large enough for a fully grown dragon to fit through. Alpha padded up to the opening and gave a growling bark that echoed throughout the cave. If the she-bear was home she would hear him. A minute passed without a reply so again he barked. After another silent minute he growled to his follower and both took a dozen paces into the cave where a smooth, wide rock lay. Beta opened his jaws and the tribute kill fell to the rock where it would lie until the she-bear returned to claim it. Turning, Beta made to leave, but paused when Alpha didn’t follow. The old timberwolf stared into the cave. He was curious. He had to know if a cub had been birthed. However, heading into the she-bear’s den was dangerous, and if she caught him inside she would kill him. After a moments thought he left his younger companion behind and trotted into the darkness. He let the glow from his own eyes guide him through the twists and turns of the large tunnel until a faint blue light lit the rock walls ahead. There, upon the ground, lay a single ursa cub, glowing softly in the dark. It was young, and had yet to show any stars on its hide except the single, eight-pointed one upon its forehead, but its breathing sounded strong to Alpha. His tail creaked as it wagged in happiness and he left the cub undisturbed, returning to the cave entrance to join Beta before leading the young wolf away towards the pack. He allowed his thoughts to run as they trekked through the forest. An ursa cub! This was joyous news. As far back as he could remember the she-bear had only given birth to a single, stillborn cub, and Alpha had been worried that the old bear would die without a replacement. The pack had long been allied with her against the myriad threats of the forest. Alpha himself had once led the pack alongside the vicious ursa in a fight against several hydra, and both had come away with their share of scars from the ordeal. She was a powerful ally and a wonderful friend as long as you didn’t anger her. But, like himself, she was aging, moving slower every season, and Alpha brought tribute every year to help her recover from her long winter rest. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he veered towards a thick cluster of trees nearby and pushed through the undergrowth between the trunks until he emerged into a small clearing. Beta came through behind him and the two wolves flopped to the ground to lounge in the midday sun. His favorite spot, this clearing. Tucked away from the rest of the world and near the stream that cut through the land its location was something Alpha had only recently passed down. Of course any pack member could have easily tracked him by scent alone, but one of the perks of being Alpha was that no one bothered you unless they wanted to feel his own hardwood teeth on their softer hides. Flowers filled clearing and he sniffed several. They were pink, with blue tips and a sweet smell that reminded him of his mate. The other Alpha of the pack, by now she should have birthed their pups. Most of the females had already returned, offspring in tow, and Alpha was worried that his mate hadn’t survived this time. She had as many seasons behind her as he, and this was the first time in three years that she’d come to him in the night and licked his face before heading off into the forest alone. He ached to see her return. Longed to smell the pink and blue flowers that grew along her back every year she returned with pups. Just once more. Before his aging timber cracked and weakened, the bark falling from him like the passing years until he was a crumbling log upon the ground, filled with termites and beetles and with ugly mushrooms growing from his rotten sides. With a snort, Alpha blew the scent of flowers from both his nose and his mind and followed Beta’s lead by lying his head down and enjoying the warm sunlight while he could. He tried to drift off, but before he could a sound made his ears perk up. Howling. They leapt to their feet when the meaning was clear. The pack was in danger! Alpha burst from the clearing with thorny vines, ripped from their holds in the undergrowth, clinging to his wooden body. Beta was behind him. They sprinted through the forest towards the yelps and howls in the distance. They weren’t far from the pack, just a few minutes run, but that was far too long for Alpha right now. Half his pack could be dead in those minutes depending on the threat. A rock came out of nowhere and Alpha stumbled over it. He should have seen it. He should have been able to avoid it. He fell to the ground and slid several feet before he got his legs under him again and picked himself up. Beta had passed him and had slowed to a trot while he waited for him to catch up. Alpha growled and barked at him. Go. Lead the pack for now. The young wolf hesitated a moment and then took off, his youth giving him the speed and agility Alpha remembered having ages ago. Pushing himself, Alpha bolted between the trees, hoping that his ancient joints had the strength to keep up this reckless pace. He vaulted over a few small creatures running along a trail and their frightened, high-pitched screams drew his attention for a moment. He spared a second to look back. A trio of small equines. One was yellowish and plain, but there was a white one with a horn and and orange one with wings. Then another howl went up and he forgot about them, accelerating back to full speed and tearing through the remaining distance to the pack. When the trees disappeared fear nearly locked up the aging wolf’s mind. Not for himself, but for his pack. He was in a large clearing. The forest burned around him. The remains of several timberwolves smoldered at his feet. Ahead, the battle was in full swing and through the smoke he could make out at least a dozen wolves dashing back and forth around a large winged creature. Even as he ran to join his pack his old timber nearly shook with dread when green flame erupted from the creature’s mouth and nearly consumed a wolf. Flame serpent! Fire lizard! Dragon! The dragon, several times taller than a wolf was long, snapped at his pack. It had deep blue scales over its body and wings, and each one split the sunlight reflecting off of them into different hues as it twisted and turned in battle. Its underbelly lacked the scales that covered the rest of it, leaving it a flat, pale blue that failed to sparkle completely. Their two species had forever hated one another, and the serpents routinely allowed their juveniles to destroy large swathes of forest out of spite or sport. A juvenile. That’s what this one was. Had it been an adult most of his pack would have been incinerated almost instantly. Alpha had seen it once. He had been a juvenile himself, and had helped take down a small dragon with his pack. Out of vengeance an adult had come several days later. It swooped over them and with a single breath laid waste to a section of forest larger than this entire clearing before returning the way it had come. A deep growl started in his throat at the memory. Eight of his pack mates had died and he had watched the bark burn away from his mother’s body as she struggled and failed to get out of the lizard’s incinerating firestorm. But that was then. This wasn’t an adult and he wasn’t a juvenile. Alpha howled as he ran and his pack formed around him. Few of them had ever battled a fire lizard. The smoking remains of timber around the clearing a testament to that. Too many. Too many were already dead. He could order his pack to flee, to grab the pups and run, but it would do no good. The dragon was already enraged and wouldn’t stop until the entire area was burnt to the ground and his pack turned to ash. This he knew to be true. Years ago a rival pack had been decimated after they retreated from a dragon, and only three of their pups and a single female had survived. He was one of those pups and his mother was the female. His current pack had been in need of new sap at the time and the alphas had graciously taken them in. It was a tragic irony that only a few short seasons after surviving that massacre, another dragon’s flame had taken his mother. The leaves that formed his eyebrows scrunched together as he scowled at the memory. He wouldn’t let an overgrown lizard destroy his pack again. This dragon would have to step over the glowing coals of his corpse before that would happen. Yelps, growls, and roars filled the air as his pack battled the serpent. Alpha guided them well, sending them in to bite at the underbelly when the beast was distracted, and making them scatter when it came at them with flame and tooth and claw. Like one fluid organism his pack moved. They leaped over tail swipes, darted in to sink sharp hardwood teeth into soft hide and then fell back before the dragon could retaliate. Yet, there were casualties. A swipe caught a wolf in mid-jump and sticky sap rained down as claws tore the middle out of him. Emerald flame swallowed  the front half of another and she ran, yelping, into the woods where she collapsed into a smoldering mess seconds later. The battle progressed and fear began to grow within Alpha’s mind as the amount of fallen timber around the clearing grew. The longer the fight lasted the more he had to watch his own step to avoid tripping over pieces of his downed pack. They couldn’t win. Perhaps if the beast had been younger and less resistant to their teeth, or older and larger and slower. But this one was just right. Small enough to keep up with their agile forms, yet large enough for its scales to have become nearly impenetrable and its flame superheated. It bled from dozens of wounds, yet each one was but a tiny pinprick, far too small to seriously wound the creature. They couldn’t even get the softer belly to tear open. He knew what he had to do. But would he have the strength? He didn’t know. Not anymore. He had only done it twice before and so much time had passed since the last. He called to Beta, growling and yapping at him. Distract the beast! Beta howled and the pack fell to his lead as Alpha retreated a short distance. He rose up on his hind legs and howled into the air, concentrating as he felt the magical power in the pack around him. Around the clearing the wooden remains of his downed pack mates, those not burnt or too long dead, began to shake and vibrate. It was slow and hesitant at first, but the intensity increased as the seconds passed. Then the beast turned towards him. It knew what he was doing. It strode towards him in all fours, ignoring his pack as if they were but gnats. Alpha pushed himself hard, his own body nearly losing cohesion as he struggled to build up enough magic to complete his task. He wouldn’t make it. The serpent was too close, his fire breath almost in range. Alpha’s sap nearly hardened within his body when the beast stopped and opened its mouth. And then it hesitated, and Alpha thought he saw it smile at him. It let out a single, shuddering breath that took him a moment to understand. It was a laugh. Even as his pack nipped at his exposed soft spots the beast laughed at him, knowing that they couldn’t win. No matter what happened, they couldn’t win. They couldn’t beat the dragon. They would only fall apart and be turned to ash. And then Beta happened. The young wolf sprinted and leapt up to the beast’s elbow, bounding off of it and onto its face where he latched onto its soft lip. The beast roared. It shook its head back and forth in an attempt to dislodge the wolf. But to no avail. Beta’s jaws were locked shut as tight as they could go and only the breakage of his teeth and jaw, or his death, would remove him. Alpha thanked the spirits for giving him a son like Beta and continued. He strained, reaching within himself for the power he needed to complete his task. Around him the pieces of his downed pack started to move. They began to float. Then, as the giant lizard raged and flailed, they finally shot towards Alpha. His own body disassembled and joined with the pieces, and he grew large and strong as they assembled in and around him, giving him power, life, strength. More and more of the remains fell into place and howls sounded in his mind as the essence of his fallen pack mates joined with his own. They called to him, crying out for vengeance. For justice. He would give it to them. Finally it was done. The last piece was in place. Alpha opened his eyes. He was tall. Much taller than he was before. And stronger. Faster. No longer would those scales stop his teeth from penetrating. He fell from his stance on his hind legs back to all fours and now looked the beast in the eye. He smiled at what he saw. Fear. He opened his mouth and the voices of his pack joined his howl, yelling to the serpent, telling it that its time was over, its life was spent. And they were right. Beta dropped from the blue beast’s lip as Alpha launched himself forward and slammed into it. They fought, wolf against dragon, sap and leaf versus blood and fire. Alpha bit into a leg and his teeth sank in to draw blood. He jerked back and forth and was rewarded with a roar of pain from the beast as its leg was nearly torn from its body. It threw itself into him and they rolled over each other again and again, crashing through trees and over boulders as they sought to end one another. They collided with a large tree that stopped them and Alpha leapt to his feet. He darted in and caught the dragon before it could pull itself up. Its belly was soft and Alpha delighted in the shriek that erupted from it when his teeth shredded the skin. A sudden pain from his rear leg stopped him from dealing a fatal blow. He let go of the beast and turned to see flame licking up his backside. Yelping, he dove away and rolled in the dirt until the fire was out. He had just managed to get up when a claw smashed into his head and he was sent reeling, stumbling backwards and barely managing to avoid tripping as his foot caught a patch of thick vines in the brush. Back and forth the battle went. A bite to the tail returned teeth to the side. Fire was dodged and bites were blocked. The pack had long since abandoned the attack, unable to join in for fear of being crushed between the two giants. The dragon tried to take to the air on several occasions, but Alpha was too close and pulled him back down each time. He feigned a strike and then leaped for its throat when the dragon fell for his trick. He almost had the beast but it managed to snake out of the way, and he ended up with only a partial bite through the skin instead of a death grip around its windpipe and arteries. Yet that was enough. He pulled, straining with all his might, and flung the dragon by its neck into the dirt where it tumbled end over end, careening through tree after tree until it stopped many feet later. It wailed and Alpha knew he had won. He sprinted forward, ready for the killing blow, but the dragon picked itself up, spread its wings, and launched itself into the air before Alpha could get to it. Blood spilled from the multitude of wounds in its hide and he knew it wouldn’t be back. Not after this beating. Alpha howled, long and loud, and his pack joined in his victory call, their voices carrying so far through the forest that when they stopped they heard neighbor packs crying back, congratulating them. He watched the dragon fly away and his elation faded. Something was wrong. The dragon wasn’t gaining height and leaving the forest. It was staying low and heading towards somewhere it shouldn’t go. The ursa cave. No no no! He had injured it too severely! It would have to stop inside the forest and rest or risk dying. It could probably see the cave entrance from the air. And if the she-bear hadn’t returned... The ursa cub would die. He looked at his pack. They gathered around him, waiting for him to release their brothers and sisters and rejoin them. He was torn. His pack was safe. They’d beaten the fire lizard. Should he risk them again to save the ursa? Within him voices yapped and growled, and like him, their opinions were split. Honor and friendship demanded he act, yet the number one priority of an Alpha was to the safety and security of his pack. Growling, he silenced the voices both within and without. He’d made his decision. He reached inside and released the essences he’d gathered, allowing them to rejoin with their bodies as his form shifted and pieces of wood fell from him. A dozen seconds later the fallen wolves that he had joined with him were reborn. They surrounded him, looking up at his still larger than normal form. Most of the fallen had chosen to rejoin the pack, but a few, mostly older ones, stayed behind, intent on helping him see this through. Alpha bid them farewell, nuzzling some of the younger wolves that had never been under any Alpha but himself. A few of them whimpered and whined, asking him not to go. He licked a young female on the muzzle to give her reassurance that all would be well and she returned the gesture. Then he turned and ran, hard, sprinting towards the ursa cave as fast as his legs could take him. It was a quicker journey to get to the cave than it had been to reach his pack earlier. With the essence of several wolves still within him he was larger and faster than before, and barely a minute passed before he passed the cluster of trees with the clearing of flowers. If he survived, he wanted nothing more than to wait in that warm circle of trees for his mate to return. To smell her again. To see the pups they had created once more. But he had a job to do first. Pushing the thoughts from his mind he barreled through the forest and over the stream, coming to the ursa cave just as the dragon landed. He was lucky. Its injuries had slowed it and allowed Alpha to catch up. He opened his mouth and let loose not a howl, nor a bark, but a roar, mustering everything he could behind it, determined to show the beast that it would never again terrorize his pack or his forest. The roar erupted from his throat and filled the forest, and the dragon turned with fear in its eyes. For a brief moment the two stared at each other. Alpha no longer met him eye to eye,. He wasn’t even half as tall as the dragon now. But that didn’t matter. They slowly started to circle, neither one willing to make the first move. The aging timberwolf crouched as low to the ground as he could while the dragon snorted a few puffs of green flame from its nose. Barking once, Alpha lunging forward, and the dragon reacted and blasted the area with its flame. But it was another feint. Alpha leaped to the right and bounded forward once more to sink his teeth into the soft skin of a wing. The beast roared in pain and shook its wing until the thin flesh tore and Alpha fell. He hit the ground and rolled as another burst of flame nearly engulfed him. But this time the dragon didn’t stop the flame. It poured from its mouth, a never-ending torrent of superheated death that Alpha almost couldn’t escape from. He barely pulled himself to his feet in time to leap out of the way as it washed by. The edge caught his tail and he yelped in pain but was unable to stop and put out the fire that slowly ate its way up the wooden appendage. He leaped and dodged, back and forth, again and again, keeping mere inches ahead of the flame. He couldn’t get close or he would be roasted, but neither could he run away. The dragon was almost as fast as he was, and chased him down each time he tried to run out of range, stopping his retreat by burning the ground in front of him. After what seemed like hours Alpha began to tire. He couldn’t keep up this reckless pace and had to fight the panic that rose within him. He didn’t know what would give out first, his body or the dragon’s flame breath. He rolled under the cone of superhot breath and noticed the torrent of flame lessen for a moment. The beast was tiring. All he needed to do was keep moving. Keep ahead of that murderous heat. And then Alpha stumbled. He had leaped away from the flame and come down hard, meaning to twist and leap another direction. But his front foot landed in a depression in the ground and his ankle rolled, snapping completely in half. A yelp came from his mouth as pain flared up his leg and he fell to the ground. He tried to get up but his leg wouldn’t hold him and he fell again. The hot breath came close and he could feel his bark start to ignite and his leafy eyebrows curl from the heat. Death was upon him. It washed over his body and he howled from the pain as his wood ignited. The remaining voices within him joined him in his pained cry. Suddenly the fire stopped. Alpha couldn’t see. The smell of ash filled his nose. Then over the sound of sizzling sap he heard a wheezing, coughing sound. The blue beast had run out of flame! Had he been able he would have laughed. All that only to be roasted by the last second of dragonfire! He tried to pull himself up so that he could die on his feet but his legs wouldn’t work properly. Footsteps came close and pain exploded in his side as the dragon swiped at him and sent him flying into a tree. He coughed and snorted hot cinders from his mouth and nose. Again the footsteps came close and he steeled himself for the final blow. He’d had a good life, with few regrets. Rising up from the ranks of an outsider to the alpha position and holding it for as many seasons as he had was something he was fiercely proud of. And he’d fathered many good pups over the years. Some, like Beta, had remained with his pack, and he was proud to call them his own. Others had left for other packs or set out on their own and he hoped each and every one of them had found a good life. He would leave the world with his pack safe, and though he regretted not being able to save the ursa cub, he had done the honorable thing and trusted the she-bear to recognize that and not hold his pack accountable. He gave one final howl, a keening call to signal the spirits that he was returning. It rose in volume and pitch for a few seconds and then held steady for a moment before it lowered and faded away. A good, loud call. One to be proud of. From far away he heard the return call go up from his own pack. Farewell. Godspeed. The dragon roared, loud, and Alpha was surprised at the ferocity of it. It was much louder and lower than before and nearly shattered his hearing. Was it screaming into his ear? Then something in his pain addled mind clicked. That wasn’t the beast. It was the she-bear. Again she roared, and the earth itself heaved and shuddered as she charged, each footfall shaking the ground like tremors from an earthquake. Alpha heard trees shatter as she barreled through them towards her prey. Alpha grew cold and guessed the she-bear had passed over him and blocked out the sun. Her body was the night sky itself, and looking upon her one would see an uncountable number of stars and galaxies in a view that changed daily. Every time he saw her he had to resist losing himself in that great vastness, to keep himself grounded as the heavens themselves lay open before his eyes, beckoning him with cosmic brilliance. She had graced him once by letting him join her in hunt, and he remembered how some of her prey simply given up, becoming unmoving as they stared into the great blackness before being swallowed up as dinner. The sounds of battle erupted and he wished his blind eyes could see. The beast stood no chance. The she-bear, while old, was unbelievably large and strong and had eons of experience. A thud sounded and the dragon roared in pain. Another thud and another roar. And then another, the roar weaker this time. Again and again the blows landed, until the roaring had grown weak and then finally ceased altogether. He heard the loud crunch of shattering bones and then another crunch a few seconds later, followed by what sounded like chewing. He actually managed to laugh. She was eating him! She was finished in under a minute, and Alpha heard her footsteps, softer this time, come close. She nosed him and gave a low, motherly growl that questioned him. Was the cub safe? Alpha managed to bark out an answer. Yes. With that her nose moved over his body, sniffing at his injuries. Then she whined, indicating what he already knew. The injuries wrought by the beast were fatal. He was dying. Suddenly he felt a single cold paw under his body, picking him up. Then he was being carried somewhere. A minute passed and she stopped and placed him on the ground. He inhaled and a sweet smell entered his nose. Flowers. Pink with blue tips. The sun above. He was in the clearing in the trees. His spot. Memories flooded into his mind and he was so lost in them that he almost didn’t notice the she-bear leaving. She gave a small rumbling growl, a command that confused him. Stay. It almost made him laugh. Of course he would stay. He couldn’t even move. He listened to her footsteps fade away into the distance. A fine friend. Allied with her, the pack would be safe from almost any threat. His thoughts turned to the day he had first met the ursa. He had been young. It was the first day after he had become Beta, and the Alpha at the time had brought him along when he went to meet with her. Even back then she had been a massive, ancient thing, full of power and wisdom, and he had felt like less than a pup as he stood before her. Yet she had been kind, her powerful voice soft and gentle at the time despite her size, and Alpha had spent many days over the years in her company just listening to her sing in a strange language. He never knew what the songs were about, but it had conjured up thoughts of the stars themselves dying, of worlds ending and being born from cataclysmic eruptions in the sky. In truth it made him feel small. But she had comforted him, telling him he was special. That in all of existence there was only one of him. Even as an alpha, with years of experience behind him, he was a small pup again in her presence, listening to the elders of the pack tell grand stories of great hunts long past. And now his own story was nearly complete. He lay there in the clearing and thought about just giving in. Then the pain would stop. But the she-bear’s command echoed in his mind. Stay. Stay? Stay alive? He didn’t know if that’s what she meant, but he knew he wouldn’t find out if he gave in to death. So he lay there, struggling to breath, as the sap ran from his wounds and turned the ground around him sticky. Finally, when he thought he could hold on no longer he heard her footsteps again. She came closer, into the clearing, and another sound reached his failing ears. Yipping? He felt a shadow over him and the scent of flowers became stronger than ever. But the scent was different, mixed with something familiar. Suddenly elation swept through him. His mate! The ursa had brought her to him! She was lying next to him now, nuzzling him, whimpering in his ear as tiny mouths licked his face and the tears that fell from his joyous eyes. Their pups! He was happy. He may be dying, but the pack was safe. The pups were safe. The cub was safe. That was an alpha’s role in life. With one last effort he strained, inching closer to his mate until his nose fell in the spot between her neck and shoulder where he knew a flower would be. There he lay, taking in her scent in the warm sun until he was an alpha no more.