> Xenophilia: a Change of Circumstance > by BackgroundNoise > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Bittersweet Apples > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Granny Smith didn't normally walk the eastern edge of the fields anymore, her family, bless their hearts, worried about her constantly, and as much as she liked to pretend that she was just indulging them in their over-protectiveness, lately her hip had been giving her a worrying amount trouble; to say nothing of how tired she's been lately. "Feh, there's still some life left in this ole' gal yet," she snorts. Her body might not be what it used to be, but she still had her memories, back when this was her farm, back before it had even been a farm. It helped sometimes, walking along the borders of the old farm she used to remember, back when it had just been a simple orchard... back when she still had her herd. Suddenly a noise interrupts her bittersweet reverie, a pained groan coming from the border separating the old orchard from the Everfree Forest. "'m I hearing things again?" She wonders as she carefully trots towards the source of the noise. It's a strange critter, that's for sure; all banged up and covered in scratches and burs like it'd just run pellmell through one of the nastier parts of the Everfree. The oddest thing about it isn't how big and hairless it is (though that certainly throws her off), but the way it's covered in clothes like some kind of big-shot, but what sorta big-wig would be running around the Everfree? Broken from her train of thought once again by the strange creature's pain (her heart melts a bit when she recognizes it as stallion), "C'mon now big fella, I'll take care of ya," despite her soft words and gentle actions she can't help but let out a pained hiss, the weight of the odd stallion is much less than she'd thought it'd be (and wasn't that a scary thought. Just how long was he trapped in that thrice damned forest?), but it's still enough to make her hip positively throb with pain. Despair fills her as she realizes just how far she is from the homestead, in spite of this she grits her false teeth, a spark of determination in her eyes, "'m not useless! I can still do this much!"; it was a long walk back... "Granny, landsakes, what happened to ya? And what in the name of Celestia is that thing?!" Applejack yells in surprise. Granny Smith huffs tiredly, legs shaking and coat covered in perspiration, her dentures having long since fallen on the perilous trip back, "Applejack!" she snaps tiredly, "I taught ya better than that. This here stallion just got outta the Everfree and he needs our help!" Applejack looks taken aback for a moment, not expecting to be cajoled in such a way, but her expression quickly softens when she gets a look at the aforementioned 'stallion', "C'mon now, lets get ya inside... Big Macintosh get out here and help Granny!" Granny Smith collapses tiredly, the trek having taken everything she had left until even her determination had been snuffed out. She barely notices her grandson gently lifting her, "I did it Zelda, I saved him..." she mutters tiredly, consciousness slowly draining from her as she falls into a peaceful slumber. She would dream of her strange, beautiful herd that night, and for the first time in long time it wouldn't hurt at all. > Give & Take > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hard to believe it's already been a month, isn't it" asks Ponyville's first (and only) human resident, Bellerophon (or "Lero" as he prefers to be called). "When you get as old as I have time tends to pass a mite quicker sonny," chuckles Granny Smith Apple, elderly matriarch of the Apple family and Lero's would-be savior, "Mmm, you folks sure do make some good tea." Lero blushes a bit at the unexpected compliment. Ever since his mysterious and nearly disastrous arrival to Equestria the old mare had been a solid friend of his, teaching him how to better ingratiate himself to the local populace and generally keeping him from withdrawing into his metaphorical shell. "Thank you, it was my grandmother's recipe before... before she died," he states, melancholy slipping into his voice. "Feh, trust me on this one sonny, ain't no better service to her than you still being here and using what she taught you. I should be so lucky when my number's up," she stretches a bit, gasping as her hip practically explodes with pain. The damn thing had been even harder on her in recent days and her wounds utterly refused to adhere to any schedule but their own. Lero practically leaps up from his chair on the veranda, intent on helping her wi- dear sweet Celestia full of light! Those hands of his just ain't fair! "Are you alright?" and there he goes again, it's been this way the past couple of weeks, the human hovering around like mother hen always making sure she was comfortable, always there to lend a helping hoof (heh, or should she say "hand"?), it was sweet as syrup, but he really did worry too much. "M-fine, the darn thing just caught me off guard," she tests her languid muscles, luckily the impromptu massage seems to have done it's job and all she feels is a dull throb. "You folks sure know how to spoil a gal," she chuckles a bit, attempting to reassure her young friend of her improved condition. Obviously she isn't quite convincing enough as Lero looks straight at her, eyes shining with undeserved guilt, and once again Granny Smith goggles at her granddaughter's attitude. In the evening sun his hair almost seems to glow in the dim light, forming the image of burning halo around his gentle features, how Applejack could take one look at him and think anything other than "beautiful" is one of life's great mysteries; then again, perhaps she's a bit biased. Broken out her reverie she notices Lero about to speak stops him short, already knowing what he was on about. "Hush you, and stow your sorry, I did what I did because it was the right thing and I'd do it again in a heartbeat if I had to," she smiles crookedly at that, showing off her new dentures, "Ain't your fault I don't know when to quit." He barks out a laugh at that and she actually giggles for the first time in what feels like ages. The mood settles after that, falling into a warm silence between the two of them. Unfortunately, the moment is broken as the fading light directs her attention to the Everfree, her mood souring at the sight, "Something wrong?"; consarnit, when did he get so good at reading her?! "Ain't nothing but old memories, wouldn't wanna worry a young'in like yourself with something that happened a lifetime ago." "I don't mind," Lero states politely, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I'm here for you if you'd like to talk about it." at that he places his hand on her withers, silently lending her support and (unsuccessfully) pretending to not be interested in her answer. There's a pause as she stops to gather her words, staring out at the Everfree as she dusts off an old, painful memory, "That forest," she stops for a beat, "has both given and taken everything from me, everything but my grandchildren," she closes her eyes, getting lost in a rippling tide of tumultuous emotion, "It gave me my farm, it gave me my herd, and then... then it took all of that away from me." Lero squeezes her withers, lending her support as best as he can without interrupting her narrative. "We were an odd bunch," she starts again, speaking slowly, delicately, as if the words themselves were fragile, "Griselda was a sweet old bird, a bit rough around the edges, but I dare you to find a more noble Gryphon anywhere. I know she saved my sorry flank more than a few times," her voice picks up as she starts to get lost in the memory. "Then there was Zuri, most beautiful creature I ever saw, even to this day; I swear that Zebra drove us all crazy with her rhyming, but Sweet Apple Acres wouldn't be where it is today if it weren't for her alchemy," her voice hitches a bit, this memory was without a doubt a sore one "And then, then there was Alexander, my own Alexander Apple, the sweetest stallion I'd ever known, and the only one I could imagine putting up with a misfit bunch like us. After all, who'd ever heard of a herd that had only had two ponies?" she turns to Lero and gives him a watery smile. He scoops her up into a brief hug before urging her to continue. "I did tell you about how I found Sweet Apple Acres didn't I?" she asks, stopping for a second, Lero nods and waves her on. "Well those three were the ones that helped me build it, tree by tree, board by board," pride shines through her voice, even after all these years. "It wasn't easy, and when we finally got over ourselves and formed a herd a lotta folks weren't happy," she sounds weary at that, thoughts of all the trials she faced, all the ponies who looked down her for being a part of an interracial herd. "I felt guilty you know, being the only one of us mares who could have young'ins of her own," she sighs, disappointment clear in her tone. "But I loved him, my sweet little Johnny Apple, I loved him right up until he died of a broken heart. It's a terrible thing, when a mother outlives her son," sorrow pours off her in waves and Lero hugs her tightly, after a moment she regains her composure and returns to her story, "We had good run," she sighs, "and even if the others couldn't have foals of their own, little Johnny was a burst of sunshine and we all loved him," she pauses a bit, rolling the words around in her head. "And then one day little Johnny went off to get his Cutie Mark, he'd heard things about the Everfree from the other foals and he... he wanted to get a monster catcher Cutie Mark," she bursts into tears and Lero starts stroking her mane, whispering those sweet, little assurances we all make up when trying to convince someone (or somepony as the case may be) that everything is going to be all right. It takes longer for her calm down this time, and when she finishes her voice is practically a whisper, "Alexander though, he was so brave, he dashed off the moment he heard that Johnny might be in trouble. By the time the rest of us knew, it was already too late," she breathes heavily, her voice raw and thick with emotion. "He saved Johnny from the Manticore, drove it off, we tried to him to help but the poison... it was just too much," she finally breaks down, tears of regret streaming down her face, Lero just holds her, tears of his own starting to drop at seeing the strong mare cry. "Johnny blamed himself and we blamed each other," she states, spitting the words out as if they tasted bitter on her tongue, "We tried to stay together as long as we could, we at least managed to raise Johnny, bless his heart, but we just couldn't make it without Alexander, we needed him." Lero starts rubbing her withers, a nonverbal show of emotional support. "We were stupid, said a whole lotta things we shouldn't have ever said, things I'm still ashamed of, and in the end we fell apart," she sighs, exhausted beyond words from the out-pour of bitter memories. Lero hesitates, his curiosity burning even as his heart swells with sympathy for Granny Smith, "And what happened to Johnny?" he whispers, silent as the grave. "Johnny was never the same after we lost Alexander," she explains tiredly. "He became shy and withdrawn, nothing like the bright, spirited colt he used to be," then, inexplicably she brightens. "Then he met Honeysuckle. AJ's friend, Fluttershy, reminds me a bit of her. What a pair they made," she shakes her head and starts chuckling softly, "It was so adorable watching them dance around each other, when they finally formed a herd you'd swear they were joined at the hip. They used to call them the 'Herd of Two'. It's not that they were mongoamists or anything like that, they just couldn't see anything but each other." Lero starts chuckling as well, the tale evoking memories of his married friends and how they acted during their Honeymoon Phase. "Then one day when Honeysuckle was tending to the animals she was attacked by a pack of timber-wolves. Poor thing could never bring herself to hurt a fly, let alone a pack of savage animals like that," she deflates at that, something like a sigh escaping her chapped lips, "Johnny didn't make it in time to save her, but he did make in time to show those mangy mutts what for. After that he just... wasted away. I tried to help him, tried to tell them he needed to be there for his foals, to be strong for them, but I didn't know what to say!" there was a plea for understanding in her voice, which Lero gave wordlessly, "He may have been my blood, but he was always Zuri's foal, she always took care of him, I was either busy working or arguing with Zelda, I... regret that, I wish I could have been the mother he needed, the mother he deserved, but when the time came it was too late and he just wouldn't listen to me. Why wouldn't he listen to me?! Honeysuckle wouldn't have wanted him to die like that, I know she wouldn't," she weeps openly, letting Lero soothe her long-buried pain. "He died of a broken heart," she says at last. "And all that was left was me and the foals. I've raised them as best I could, I can only hope that it's enough, I can only hope... that Johnny forgives me," she wavers a bit at the end, voice shaky. "There's nothing to forgive," Lero says solidly, and Granny Smith's head snaps up in surprise, "Mac's a good man, and a good friend of mine, Applebloom might be a little overenthusiastic sometimes, but she's a bright, happy filly, and anyone with eyes can tell she loves her family, and AppleJack and I might not always get along, but I know she's got a good heart, she's an Element of Harmony for Pete's sake, she's saved Equestria." He stops for a moment, "I don't just think you've been a good mom, I know that you've been one. I truly believe that your herd would be proud of them, would be proud of you, and for what it's worth, I'm proud of you." They sit there on the veranda, the sun having long since set, and enjoy the warm silence between each other... "So when are ya gonna ask my granddaughter out? Celestia know that the filly's too darn stubborn for her own good." "What?!" A cackle echoes off into the night. > A Perilous Crusade > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Are you sure about this Apple Bloom? Remember what happened with Miss Fluttershy and the Cockatrice?" Sweetie Belle asks, looking warily at the darkened entrance to the Everfree Forest. "Ah'm sure, after all, this here's the part closest to Sweet Apple Acres, can you think of a safer way to get our monster catcher Cutie Marks?" Apple Bloom ripostes, the filly simultaneously seeking her friend's understanding while also trying to calm her nerves. "I... I don't know... we could always try catching Mister Lero..." Sweetie Belle offers nervously, not really believing her alternative would be accepted, but feeling compelled to try anyway. Apple Bloom snorts at that, "And do ya remember what happened the last time we tried something like that, dragon catcher Cutie Marks? Granny done tanned my hide for that, something about respecting stallions, even if they ain't ponies." "Yeah, so quit trying to get out of it!" Scootaloo said in her raspy voice, "Besides, you can't tell me that monster catcher Cutie Marks wouldn't be awesome." "But how are we even going to catch it..." Sweetie Belle's voice trails off into a murmur. "Don't worry, I've brought plenty of rope, and if something does go wrong we can always run back to the farm, trust me, it's fine," Apple Bloom states carefully, putting all of the reassurance she can into her answer. It seems to work as Sweetie Belle relaxes just a bit, and Scootaloo just rolls her eyes, exasperated at her friend's antics. The forest quickly becomes darker as they travel deeper into the Everfree, the trees becoming gnarled and twisted, occasionally they see wounds on the trees that look like old scratch marks. As they march on even Scootaloo is getting nervous, the sense of being watched is almost unbearable as ancient prey instincts came to the fore. "Ugh! What the Tartarus is that smell?! It's like somepony mixed fresh trash with old garbage, then mixed in a little manure for good measure," Scootaloo rants, hoof waving in front of her muzzle to ward off the odious stench. "Scootaloo, language!" squeaks Sweetie Belle, expression scandalized. Scootaloo merely shrugs in response, not looking particularly repentant. "Ah think it's comin' from over thar'," says Apple Bloom, pointing towards a nearby clearing with one hoof while blocking her nostrils with another, her face scrunched in displeasure. "Girls, I really, really think we should leave, something doesn't feel right about all of this..." Sweetie Belle trails off, her flight instincts overriding any of the disgust she might normally feel while her herding instincts told her to stick with the group. The conflicting feelings were making the already excitable filly even more distracted and jumpy than she was normally. "Hey, I found something!" calls Scootaloo, a hint of excitement in her voice, "It kind of looks lik- EEEWWWWWW!" she shrieks, "Oh that is just gross, you girls gotta come over and see this!" Curiosity overwhelming both her fear and her disgust Apple Bloom canters ahead to meet her friend. Sweetie Belle stands there, dancing on her hooves in her nervousness, eyes twitching to look at the trail behind her and muttering a quick prayer to Celestia. "What in tarnation is tha- ughhh. It looks like that one time a squirrel got trapped under Big Mac's plow," Apple Bloom mutters in disgust. "Sweetie Belle, get your flank over here!" Scootaloo shouts, her frustration with her friend reaching a boiling point. Realizing her Alpha was mad with her, Sweetie Belle quickly trots up, her whispered, "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..." clearly audible in the quiet forest. The source of the smell in question looks vaguely like one of the pigs at Sweet Apple Acres, the difference being that this creature is both bigger and covered in thick, matted hair, in front of it's snout are two dirty tusks. If the smell isn't enough to tell that the strange, pig-like creature is dead, than the fact that it's underside is in bloody tatters certainly makes it abundantly clear. "What do you think happened to it?" Scootaloo asks in a stage whisper, her excitement even more obvious than the acute disgust she doesn't quite succeed in masking. "What do ya think it even is?" asks Apple Bloom, her intrigue fading quickly into discomfort. The feeling of being watched comes back and it makes the fur on the back of her neck stand straight up. "Oh dear... oh dear... we have to go, we have to go NOW!" Sweetie Belle shrieks shrilly, her normally submissive nature shattering as her panic boils over, every one of her senses screaming for her to bolt as quickly as possible. Scootaloo swivels around expression thunderous, but Apple Bloom quickly cuts her off and puts in her own two bits, "Sweetie Belle's right, we should go." Scootaloo looks shocked, her incredulity coming across clear as day in the deadpan stare she shot Apple Bloom. "Something ain't right here and you know it," she states in a frustrated voice, narrowing her eyes and pointing her hoof to further emphasize her point. Scootaloo rolls her eyes and lets out a frustrated huff, "Fine, if all you want to be ba-" *SNAP*! The sound of a twig snapping under the weight of something heavy draws attention from the three fillies, shortly after comes a bass, rumbling growl and the sounds of large beast lumbering into view. "AAAHHH!" a sharp scream erupts from Sweetie Belle, soon joined by sounds of panic from all three fillies echo throughout the surrounding area. > Bellerophon and the Chimera > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Are you sure yeh can handle everything?" asks Applejack, incredulous. Lero sighs, exasperation coloring his voice, "Yes Applejack, just because I'm not as durable as you ponies doesn't mean I can't take care of things for an afternoon while you and Big Mac take care of business, you even told me yourself that my hands give me a pretty big advantage over ponies in tree trimming." Applejack looks down and away at that, shuffling her hooves a bit. "Ah did say that didn't I," she mutters. "I'm not going to hurt myself you know, it's just for a few hours after all," he explains, his tone gentle. Applejack's head whips around at that, a blush rising in her features despite her fur's best efforts to hide it. "Ah wasn't worried!" she blurts, voice wavering a bit. Lero simply raises an eyebrow, his expression speaking volumes. "No-not that I wouldn't be worried or nuthin', I mean you're a good worker, and I know how well you get on with Granny and Macintosh, and even Apple Bloom likes yeh-," she babbles, stumbling over her words as her face burns red. "Applejack, it's fine, I know what you mean," Lero interrupts her, amusement shining in his eyes. Applejack merely pushes her stetson down over her face, muttering hotly under her breath. At this sight Lero can't help but let out a bark of laughter, before long Applejack starts chuckling herself, her body relaxing and her tense features softening. Applejack and Lero merely gaze at each other for a bit, their expressions warm and their posture relaxed; after a comfortable moment Applejack gets up and heads for the door. She stops short just before leaving the dusty tool shed, the sun shining off her coat, "Y'all take care yourself, Lero, yeh hear?" asks Applejack, turning back with a beautiful smile on her face. "Loud and clear boss-lady," Lero sketches a sloppy salute, "I'll have the Eastern Orchard done by the time you get back." "I'll hold you to that Mister Handy!" she chirps, trotting off. Lero just shakes his head happily and looks over the tools briefly before picking out the branch cutter. It isn't all that different from the ones commonly used on Earth, all things considered; the exception being that the curved blade at the end is both longer and sharper, and that the grip is nearer to the base. With that done, he carefully slings the tool over his shoulder and takes off for the Eastern Orchard, humming to himself quietly along the way. As Lero works he can't help but feel a shudder of discomfort run through him at being so close to the Everfree. He doesn't have many memories of his time in that forest, but what little he does have is still more than enough to give him the occasional night terror- if nothing else, at least his poor sleeping habits had allowed him to meet with one of Equestria's immortal diarchs on somewhat cordial terms. Shockingly enough, from what little he'd heard most ponies were terrified of Luna and practically worshiped Celestia; then again, considering his first meeting with Celestia involved the closest thing to a "shovel speech" he'd heard since coming to Equestria, and that his first meeting with Luna involved her ending a nightmare prematurely with comfort and warm cocoa, he supposed he might be just a little biased in favor of the Night Princess. Two hours later and Lero already regrets his earlier candor. The thick, Earth Pony grown trees fight him for every branch, and the heat of the sun certainly doesn't make things any easier. His thin tank-top has already soaked through with sweat and he still has a little over half the orchard to go; apparently, whatever magic allows the trees at Sweet Apple Acres to bear so much fruit year round also has the unfortunate side-effect of causing them to grow more than was strictly healthy, and that's not even beginning to mention how much tougher it made the wood, it makes his arms ache just thinking about it. A sharp scream cuts through Lero's thoughts and immediately draws his attention towards the Everfree Forest. His heart starts pounding, something about that voice tickles the edge of his memory. For a long moment Lero simply stares into the tainted thicket that for his first few moments in Equestria had been his own personal hell. Indecision gnaws at him like a physical sensation as his worry fights against his fear in a clash of wills that feels like it's tearing him apart. Two more voices soon join the first, both sounding scared and far, far too young. Panic takes Lero as he recognizes at least one of the voices as Apple Bloom's and with a sinking feeling in his gut, he finally realizes that the first scream must have been Sweetie Belle. His decision practically made for him, Lero takes a brief moment to gather his resolve before grabbing the branch cutter and sprinting across the border separating Sweet Apple Acres from the Everfree forest, following the sounds of three fillies in distress. Lero rushes through the forest as fast as he can reasonably manage, the perspiration on his body no longer that of heat and exertion, but of a fear that chills him to his very bones. Numerous scratches and tears litter his clothes and body as the world rushes by him at high speed. His heart thuds like a jackhammer, but Lero ignores all this, his head far too clouded by frantic worry. Lero's panic skyrockets as he hears another shriek from the girls. Immediately he pushes his already tired body all the harder, a potent cocktail of adrenaline stoked with fear propelling him through the forest at astounding speeds. After what could be either hours or minutes of tearing through the thorny brush, Lero finally stumbles across the clearing where he finds the girls, the three of them have huddled together on a rocky outcropping as they try to avoid an absolutely massive beast. With the wings of a bat, the horns of a prize bull, an enormous scorpion tail, and the body of a lion- if, of course, that lion had been the size of a large bear; there's little doubt in Lero's mind that this chimeric monstrosity is a manticore, one of the deadliest creatures known to reside in the Everfree Forest. The sheer fright in the fillies' large luminous eyes, which were still filled with unshed tears; the sweat and grime accumulated from their desperate time spent in the inhospitable forest clinging to their coats; the image of that bat-winged horror devouring those innocent young girls flips a switch in Lero. He hefts his branch cutter in a white-knuckled grip, brandishing the farming Implement like a spear of old; taking heart, Lero then lunges at the enormous beast, hoping and praying that his first strike would prove to be a decisive blow. His desperate strike misses the leonine body, but manages to clip one of the relatively small bat wings; the wicked curve of the blade normally used for cutting wood shears through the flimsy joint of the vestigial wing and then removes it entirely with a small spurt of blood. A pained roar from the manticore shakes the surrounding area. In an instant the beast turns it's maddened gaze on Lero, it's razor-filled maw dripping with saliva and it's eyes shining with the promise of murder. Lero distantly hears one of the fillies gasp, he wants to reach out to them, to tell them that everything is going to be alright, but he just can't find the words, the whole of his being focused on the monster in front of him. The manticore charges with a vicious roar, barreling through the underbrush at incredible speeds. Lero just barely manages to avoid getting gored on the creature’s massive horns as it tries to ram him with all of its considerable bulk, hitting the ground hard while the manticore plows straight through a nearby tree with a terrifying crash, reducing it to timber. Lero scrambles to regain his bearings, his back burning from the hard fall and thoroughly scraped up by the rocky terrain. The manticore recovers from it's impact long before Lero does, preparing to pounce on the disoriented human. Time slows to a crawl for Lero, his body numb with pain and fear; he remembers the fillies, how he has to protect them, and he props the butt of his impromptu-spear on the ground, using his two shaky hands to point the weapon straight into the beast's gaping maw. For a brief hysterical moment he considers muttering something cheesy like "Chew on this!", before bemoaning that his last thought might just be a horrible pun. With a sickening thunk, the manticore impales itself on the blade. The beast's own momentum driving it up through the palate and into the skull with a terrifying rasp, Lero can only gape at how hard the creature's skull must be to make a sound like that. Blood trickles down onto Bellerophon and the wooden haft creaks with the chimera's weight; for a brief, shining moment he believes that he might just make out of the forest alive, then movement- pain! A long dark object burrows into his stomach, the tail? The burning hits, it's too much, he can't see, he can't think, he can't-! He hears voices, someone is calling his name "LERO!", darkness. > New Twist on an Old Classic > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ever since the manticore had appeared, Apple Bloom seemed to have completely broken down. Anything she’d said since had been rendered intelligible through her sobs, though Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were still able to make out the word “Grandpa,” being used occasionally. Sweetie Belle had just started running like the hounds of Tartarus were on her tail and hasn’t stopped since. ‘Stupid, stupid,’ Scootaloo thinks to herself despondently ‘why didn’t I just listen to them?’ Their eyes burning terribly as they ran through the forest, the Crusader's hearts and minds united in the wish to be back in their beds, safe and sound. Unfortunately, this was no dream, and the monster even now seeking to devour them was all too real. Suddenly, the beast leapt forward with a rumbling growl. The heat and fetid stench of the manticore’s breath making Scootaloo’s neck fur stand on end even as she screams her lungs out. Even more terrified from the sound of their friend’s screams, not to mention the recent near miss, the Cutie Mark Crusaders break into a run at full gallop and manage to pull away from the much larger beast chasing after them. The dirt and dust kicked up from their pounding hooves caking onto their sweaty coats, their breathe on the edge of hyperventilation as they search for any possible shelter, anything to get away from the monster coming to kill and eat them. “There, the rocks!” shouts Scootaloo, relief flooding her panting voice as they ran into a clearing. Scootaloo’s wings buzzed pleasantly, her Pegasus instincts were screaming at her to get to higher ground- and hopefully, to safety. A plan finally appearing, the Crusaders move in synch to reach the rocky outcropping with a palpable air of tired relief. They climb their way to the top; the skills learned during their brief stint as Cutie Mark Crusader Rock Climbers finally coming in handy. Finally, the tired Crusaders reach the plateau and fall together panting, feeling relatively safe for the first time in what felt like hours. Immediately after getting her breath back Apple Bloom latches onto Sweetie Belle; taking great, shuddering breaths and sobbing out apologies while the unicorn filly gently comforts her distraught friend. In spite, or perhaps because of her normal reaction to such an outpouring of emotions, Scootaloo glomps her best friends in the whole world, trying and failing miserably to hide her sniffling. The mood shatters like a cheap porcelain vase during a spontaneous indoor hoofball match as a growl emerges from the nearby wood. Abandoning any further attempts at subtlety, the manticore slowly stalks it’s way into the clearing, it’s nightmarish visage and terrifying presence causes the fillies to squeeze themselves together even tighter as a shudder of fear runs through all of them. “I don’t wanna die,” whispers Apple Bloom, her unusually fragile tone and soft, morbid declaration causing the three fillies to tear up. ‘It’s not fair!’ thinks Scootaloo, anger and helplessness burning in her gut as she tries to staunch her tears “Please, somepony... anypony, please save us!” As if in answer to her silent plea for salvation, an orange blur launches itself at the beast from behind, and in a flash of steel, removes one of the monster’s wings. The Crusader’s flinch when they hear the beast roar, the furious sound shaking the rock beneath their hooves and seeming to resonate in their very bones. Sweetie Belle gasps when she recognizes Mister Lero as the one who attacked the manticore. Standing tall on his two legs, his hazel eyes staring down the monster fearlessly, weapon held high like a fairytale knight charging in to save her prince from the villain’s nefarious clutches. “Oh no!” she squeaks, seeing the manticore barrel down on Lero, but he quickly dodges out of the way; rolling to safety while the monster runs itself straight into a nearby tree with a horrible crash. The Cutie Mark Crusaders cry out to Lero as they see the manticore regain it’s bearings and ready a pounce. They then proceed to gape in awe as he turns the weapon around, thrusting his spear straight into it’s mouth before it can land on him and slaying the beast. Tears of relief streak down their faces as they hoot and holler, cheering loudly for the hero that saved them from the monster in their time of need. It was a scene out of a storybook, an epic tale brought to life before their eyes, and none of them were unaffected. The Crusaders break their embrace and scramble to meet their saviour, tumbling a bit to get down from their lofty elevation. Then, as the Crusaders run to greet Lero the tail of the supposedly dead manticore strikes out suddenly and stabs him in the stomach. “LERO!” cries Apple Bloom at the top of her lungs, the other Crusaders voicing their worry shortly afterwards. Panic sets in as Lero seems to collapse in on himself. “Get. Offa. HIM!” Apple Bloom shouts at the manticore’s corpse, attempting to push it off of Lero with her hooves. Sensing their mutual friend’s distress, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo set about gently getting Lero out from underneath the body of the slain beast, managing to pull him away just as Apple Bloom manages to shove it to the side with a strained grunt; the body making a loud “whump!” as it finally hits the dirt. Sweetie Belle whimpers softly as she takes in Lero’s prostrate form, his clothes practically reduced to tatters, red lines and scratches litter his form, and his stomach wound is bleeding badly. “Is he gonna be okay?” asks Scootaloo, voice soft and tone worried. “He has to be okay!” snaps Apple Bloom, expression fierce despite the tears shining in her bright orange eyes “Come on Sweetie. Tell me that he’s gonna be okay… please.” Sensing the shift in group dynamic, as well as her Earth Pony friend’s delicate emotional state, Sweetie Belle swallows her nervousness and firms her voice. “Apple Bloom, do you know if we’re anywhere near Zecora’s hut?” Apple Bloom blinks at that, having not expected the question and examines the surroundings with fresh eyes. “Yeah… it’s not all that far from here actually.” “Then I need you to go and get her to come here right now; tell her that Mister Lero’s been stung by a manticore and that he needs help right away,” Sweetie Belle commands simply, directing her friend to where she could do the most good. Apple Bloom nods her head vigorously before sprinting off into the forest, ostensibly in the direction of Zecora’s hut. “What about the hospital?” asks Scootaloo, watching Apple Bloom leave with concern. “It’s too far,” Sweetie Belle states simply “and besides, Nurse Redheart says that you’re not supposed to move around a lot when you get hurt, we might end up making things worse.” “How could you make something like that worse?” questions Scootaloo, sounding rather disgusted at the prospect. “I don’t know, but I’m not finding out any time soon,” answers Sweetie Belle. Extending her neck and gently placing her hoof on Lero’s shoulder, Sweetie Belle bites down on the remains of his shirt and slowly sets about removing it from him. “What the Tartarus are you doing?!” demands Scootaloo, thoroughly freaked out by her friend’s actions. Sweetie Belle stops briefly after ripping a large strip of cloth free from the damaged shirt and spits to get rid of the flavour “Ugh… I’m trying to make a tour-ni-quet, to stop the bleeding.” Scootaloo just watches incredulously as her friend gets back to work, seeing her grimace at the taste of the dirtied cloth. “Where’d you even learn to do this anyway?” she asks, genuinely curious as to the source of her friend’s obscure knowledge. Sweetie Belle just stays silent, focusing on her work. What was she supposed to say? That she pretty much had to learn about this kind of thing because she was so much weaker than them? That because her best friends were an Earth Pony and a Pegasus with so much Earth Pony in her lineage that she was practically one herself- that she was the weak link? Was she supposed to tell Scootaloo about all the times she had to go to the hospital, or about the times her sister lectured her about knowing her limits, or maybe even about all the times she got injured while Apple Bloom and Scootaloo just shrugged it off? No, she can’t she decides, Scootaloo and Applebloom were the best thing to ever happen to her. To stay with them she’d endure a thousand injuries, all with a smile on her face. Scootaloo looks at her friend worriedly, Sweetie Belle’s whole face had just twisted into a frown, and Scootaloo had a sneaking suspicion that the expression had little to do with nasty tasting cloth. “Come on, help me out here Scoots, I have to get this wrap around him,” says Sweetie Belle as she grabs one of her makeshift bandages. Scootaloo just watches her friend quietly as she wraps Lero’s midsection with surprising skill, musing about her friend’s hidden depths. “Okay now, prop up your hooves and set them down here, like this, watch me, now push- gently!” Sweetie Belle quickly corrects her over enthusiastic pegasus friend, urging her to be more careful “If we apply pressure like this it’ll help stop the bleeding.” The two Crusaders watch Lero worriedly, but after holding their breath for what feels like a brief eternity the bleeding slows to a trickle. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sweetie Belle places one of her white, fluffy ears against his chest and listens to Lero breath “He sounds good, steady; his heartbeat’s pretty fast, I don’t really know what that means, but it doesn’t seem too dangerous.” Sweetie Belle bites her lip, worrying it softly with her teeth. She knew that her ‘treatment’ was amateur at best and that her diagnosis was little more than a barely educated guess. Still, Lero did look better, if just a teensy bit; she just had to have faith that her friend would get back with Zecora quickly. The world appears to blur around Apple Bloom as she desperately gallops in the general direction of Zecora’s hut. The morbid image of Lero’s stomach wound trapped within her mind’s eye. Over the months since Lero had come to live with the Apple family, he’d done everything in his power to repay the kindness of their hospitality. Though they’d all thought him a bit funny at first, he’d eventually become family to Apple Bloom and her kin, neatly sliding into a place in their hearts that she’d never even noticed was there to begin with. Apple Bloom loves her family, and even if they don’t always agree, she wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. But still, sometimes she felt like they just didn’t understand her, or her need to find her own path. Sometimes she felt like Big Macintosh might understand, if only a little bit, but the big galoot was just too dang shy for his own good. But Lero… Lero talked to her like she was a full-grown mare. He was warm, and wise; comforting, and supportive. When she tried to think of what it was like before Lero was around, or what it might be like if he wasn’t there, it hurt. She could scarcely imagine how lonely that would be. The idea that he could die one day never even crossed her mind; the very idea of losing him made her eyes burn and her body feel short of breath. Still, Apple Bloom trusted her friends and she knew Zecora, if anybody could help Lero now she’d be the mare to do it. Even though she knew all of that in her mind, it didn’t stop a sliver of worry from gnawing at the back of her thoughts, nor does it stop her from muttering a brief prayer to Celestia under her breath as she rushes into the familiar grove. “Please let him be okay,” Apple Bloom whispers as she canters up to the inhabited tree and knocks on the carved wooden door. A series of clops sound from behind the homely barricade as somepony answers the door. “Is that you I see Apple Bloom, what are you doing out in the gloom?” rhymes Zecora, her rich, deeply accented voice already serving to soothe Apple Bloom’s fears. “The girls and I were out crusadin’, an’ Sweetie Belle told us we shoulda left, but I didn’t listen ta her; oh why didn’t I listen ta her,” the filly babbles, guilt hanging like a leaden weight in her stomach “and there was this manticore, but Lero- he was amazin’, he saved us! But he got hurt real bad, the manticore stung him and I dunno what ta do...” Zecora listens patiently as the filly pours her heart out, feeling a mixture of sadness and concern for the child who had always sought to be a friend to her. Her heart sinks as the tale draws to a close, for one so young to go through such a traumatic experience… “If we are to save your friend then we must be swift, if he is to recover then we must reach him before the night shift,” with an easy grace that spoke of long experience Zecora stepped back into her hut, gathering anything that might be able to aid Apple Bloom’s friend. She didn’t want to tell the filly, but she honestly didn’t expect him to make it. She knew from personal experience the terrible potency of a manticore’s venom. Still, she’d take even a small chance to protect the innocent filly from the loss of a loved one. Zecora’s response does little to quiet her sense of urgency, they had to get moving now! “Is there anything I can do ta-” “You may take my words with a grain of salt, but nothing that happened today was your fault,” Zecora interjects, understanding her desire to help, but unable to comply with it. Apple Bloom may have been a bright young filly, but an alchemist she was not, not to mention some of the reagents she was handling were exceptionally volatile in the wrong hooves. Packing her saddle bags, Zecora turns to the distraught filly with what she hopes is a comforting smile. “Over the corner, and around the bend let us be off to save your friend!~” she says lyrically, pouring on the enthusiasm to help reassure her young friend. Taking the cue, Apple Bloom rushes off in the direction of her injured friend. “It’s just over this way!” she shouts, Zecora keeping step just behind her. Ignoring her fatigue with a combination of long practice and sheer stubbornness, Apple Bloom canters hard through the dark forest. Sweat pours off of her coat like rainwater, and her breath came in fits and starts. By now, even her reserve of world-renowned Earth Pony endurance had worn dry. She was, quite literally at this point, running on fumes. Zecora glances concernedly at her companion, she knew that Apple Bloom was pushing herself, but at the same time she couldn’t really tell the filly to stop. Even if Apple Bloom did listen to her, and that’s a pretty big if; she couldn’t really carry the filly, weighed down with delicate reagents as she was, and she still needed Apple Bloom’s directions if she was to have any hope of reaching her Human friend in time. Just as she was about to suggest that maybe they should slow down, just a tad, Apple Bloom stops her. “We’re here!” she cries, the sheer relief in her voice easily discernable to Zecora and the ragged fillies awaiting their arrival. While she slows down slightly upon seeing her friends, Apple Bloom refuses to stop completely before she collapses at Lero’s side, panting heavily. Zecora gapes momentarily when she sees the dead manticore, when her young friend had told her about what had happened she had assumed that the Human had merely driven off the manticore, but to actually kill one… she shakes her head to clear her thoughts, she had more important things to do than gawp at the spectacle. With great care, Zecora unpacks her things and moves her way over to the wounded Human. He was in bad shape, that much she had expected, what she hadn’t really expected was for his wounds to actually be dressed and the bleeding staunched. She looks the fillies over, taking in the tired looking Unicorn with red smears on her face and hooves. While the attempt may have been crude, it just may have saved this stallion’s life. “You fillies have done well in taking care of your friend, there’s only so much I can do if there is nothing to tend,” she rhymes, praising the young Crusader’s work; Sweetie Belle beams up at her tiredly, a tinge of pride coloring her soft, childish features. Zecora skillfully removes the improvised bandages before gingerly applying a foul-smelling yellow goop to the gaping wound. There’s a quiet hiss as the stuff touches bare flesh, causing the nearby Crusaders to flinch. She then takes out a much more pleasant looking pearlescent cream and begins applying it to the smaller wounds. Taking care to first remove his pants and then tend to his injured back, she applies the cream to one side of a tan cloth and gently wraps Lero’s torso, paying extra attention to the stomach. Afterwards Zecora opens his mouth and pours liquid from a small vial past his lips, she then proceeds to rub his throat until he swallows. The Crusader’s watch the Zebrican alchemist work enraptured. While they had seen her mix the occasional potion, and even cure a few embarrassing illnesses, they’d never seen their friend quite like this before. To be able to do something so quickly and with such confidence... to them, it was the very definition of what it was to have a special talent. Suddenly Lero moves, shocking the nearby equines. He takes a deep breath before letting it out again with a quiet rasp, apparently still unconscious. Zecora, in an unintentional imitation of Sweetie Belle’s earlier actions, presses a striped ear to his chest. “He is doing better than I may have feared, but the danger has not yet been cleared.” She continues “I would by no means consider myself a cynic, but we must get your friend to a clinic,” the Crusaders nod in unison, resisting the urge to curl up and fall asleep after the day’s manic events. Zecora digs a small hole in the dirt and places a few of the items she brought with her inside it before marking the ground; she tosses something that looks a little like salt over the manticore’s body, and the rest she simply places back in her saddlebags. She then directs the Crusaders to ease Lero onto her back, and with much grunting and sighing, they slowly make their way back to civilization.