A man walks forward, only to look back and see nothing is the way it was. It was an instant and he was alone; His friends and former life gone like a wisp of air.
Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. -Henry Davis Thoreau. "I've heard that quote several times over the course of my life, but only now am I finally beginning to understand just what it meant as I wander through this God forsaken land."
"My thumb removes the holster’s guard, and I pull the pistol from its place on my hip and bring it up. My finger squeezes the trigger but all I hear is a soft click. The wolf’s ears perk forward as I do, and it leaps without warning..."
I pull the edges of my camouflage jacket close in an attempt to protect myself from the bitter wind that howls through the trees. Leaves fly all around, creating a whirlwind of red and yellow as they fly past my face. The crunch of leaves and sticks under my boots are the only sounds that distract from the overhead whistle of wind through the trees. The day is drawing to a close, and the sun looms just over the horizon.
As I walk the slow but rhythmic bump on my back reassures me that my partner is still with me and I feel safe. My pack, though rather small, contains everything I hold dear. A compass, my maps, a simple fire starting kit, and a large skinning knife with its sharpening stone in the sheath. My cargo pants, with the color matching my jacket to a T, rustle quietly as I walk, shielding me from the dense thicket.
Along with my survival gear, I carry a small laser rangefinder and eight spare batteries. My hand drifts down to my left hip where my sidearm lies, secured tightly in its holster.
I can see my breath as I exhale deeply, countering the motion with a sharp inhale of the crisp, clean air that permeates this vast expanse of woods I find myself in. The trees tower overhead, easily forty to eighty feet up and twice my width.
I look up as a sharp crack sounds from above. Gazing into the sea of red and yellow, I can not see it, but something is there. Instinctively, I reach to my back, tapping the hard kevlar of my partner, and running my hand over the metal. I grasp the grip, pulling it to my front with the strap scraping along the denim of my jacket. The wind suddenly slows, and the leaves fall steadily all around as I steel my gaze upward.
Another snap of a twig to the right pulls my attention away from the trees and into the thick brush. Another rustle of leaves in the same direction confirms my suspicions, and I raise the muzzle toward the sound. Flicking the safety off, I chamber a .308 round with a soft click, bringing up the barrel.
The leaves move again and I barely have time to react as a deer explodes from the brush, with a sort of... creature, hot on its heels. I fall back, barely avoiding pulling the trigger as I do, and watch as the pursuing creature finds its mark. With a snarl the creature pounces, sinking its teeth into the helpless deer's neck. It squeals, falling onto its chest as the weight of its reaper is too much to bear. The leaves and brush surrounding the pair are painted crimson, indicating that the predator had pierced the jugular.
In all my years, I have never seen such a creature. Its eyes burn a cold green, and its body seems to be made up of hundreds of pieces of timber. The clatter of wood on wood confirms this.
I bring up my rifle, aiming as best I can without using the scope. At a range of mere feet, it would only serve to hinder me. I get the distinct feeling this creature will not stop with just the deer after having seen me.
The deer finally stops struggling and the creature turns its attention to me. Its fangs bear, practically dripping red as its body bristles. The cold air is suddenly filled with a horrid stench, and I wince slightly.
It is now facing me fully, ready to spring. My finger grips the trigger, but I am not confident in my aim. My ammunition is limited, but so are my options. My knife is still tucked away within my pack, and I fear the slightest twitch will send this beast on the attack. Then again, hunger might just do the same without my input.
It barks at me wildly, releasing a green sort of fog. It smells heavily of sewage, and I do my best to block out the stench. The eyes on this beast shine a fierce green as it looks me over, seemingly debating on whether to kill me or not. It suddenly goes rigid; its lips curling slowly to reveal its gnarled wooden fangs.
With a feral growl, it leaps for me, higher than expected. I quickly aim up to compensate and pull the trigger. The rifle fires, sending the bullet a mere inch beneath the beast's belly and into a tree. Before I can react, the wolf is upon me, knocking me from my sitting position to my back. I instinctively turn my rifle horizontal and force it upward, jamming the scope in the gap between its chest and lower neck. For now, the snarling maw is blocked from closing around my neck.
It struggles, attempting to use its paws to knock my arms from the rifle. The first swipe misses, but the last succeeds in buckling my left elbow. The barrel end of the rifle goes down, making the timberwolf slide down to my left. Using this split second, I roll over, planting myself and my rifle on its belly. I quickly slide the stock up, positioning the trigger guard directly on its throat. I push down with all my might, intent on strangling the beast. It wheezes, attempting to growl and succeeding only in creating weak whimpering coughs.
Its hind legs come up, coming to rest on my back and pushing upward. My backpack is shoved up and the straps wrap around my head, making me lose my focus for a second. The wolf puts its paws on my chest and pushes hard, throwing me off. My rifle is tossed behind the wolf, and I to the front. It coughs several times, shaking its head, while I unsnap the plastic fasteners that hold my backpack's straps to my chest. As I do, I am able to shrug the straps off and sit up, giving me a most unpleasant view of the wolf’s gnarled fangs and glowing green eyes. As fear begins to set in and I place my gloved hands on the ground to back away, my right hand brushes against my pistol, still secured firmly in its holster.
The wolf is now walking slowly toward me with foam and a continuous gutteral growl seeping between its teeth. My thumb removes the holster’s guard, and I pull the pistol from its place on my hip and bring it up. My finger squeezes the trigger but all I hear is a soft click. The wolf’s ears perk forward as I do, and it leaps without warning. In a flash, my thumb flicks the safety off and I fire several rounds in the wolf’s direction. I watch as the .45 ACP makes quick work of the beast as a round enters its eye and explodes out the back of it’s head. Splinters of wood rain down upon my body and a thick green mist shrouds the small area around me.
The area is once again silent.
Aside from the subtle ringing in my ears from the shots, no other sounds can be heard. Not a single chirp of a bird, or howl of wind through the trees. Even the wind has completely died, leaving the leaves scattered on the ground like a red and yellow carpet.
I pull the bolt of my rifle out, catching the empty bullet casing and putting it behind my ear. The cold has cooled it already, and it carries a lukewarm feeling. I take another round from my belt, sliding it into the chamber and pushing the bolt back in with a soft click.
Twenty two rounds left.
My bandolier is now seven bullets short, with one in the chamber. I sigh, feeling my heartbeat steadily returning to normal. Looking back to my rifle, I slowly trace the engraving just above the trigger guard with a finger.
Remington 700.
Several hours had passed since the encounter with the strange, hostile creature. My ears were still ringing slightly, but that was the very least of my worries. I had just killed a creature I had never before seen in my life, and it was all just blind luck. Had the beast not hesitated as much as it did, I wouldn’t have made it out with my neck intact. I count myself lucky that I escaped with only a pinkie-sized piece of wood in my thigh.
My small fire crackles noisily in the dead of the night, only serving to heighten my awareness and keep sleep at bay. Every little rustle of leaves, every creaking branch high overhead, every whistle of wind is enough to make me look away from the fire and into the dense night. Walls of black encircle my pitiful excuse for a fire, and it feels like millions of eyes are surrounding me at every waking moment. I fear sleep is my very last addition on my to do list tonight.
After what seems like hours into my sleep deprived paranoia, a particularly loud snap of wood from outside my ring of light draws my attention to my right. Another snap and a noisy rustle of leaves leads me to draw my pistol and click the safety off. I aim it in the direction I think the noise is coming from, and I fire one round into the inky black. I can hear the trunk of a tree splinter and a yelp of some kind. A distant snapping of wood and minutes of silence after, I make the assumption that I am safe for the time being.
I toss another handful of sticks on the fire, and a fresh flame takes root. The fall weather is getting to me, making me shiver underneath my portable thermal blanket. I need to sleep, but the threat of another attack looms just beyond my firelight. Looking around, I spot a tree against my firelight and I get up, reluctantly leaving the warmth of my fire. My pack is still on my back, and I reach around to my left side pocket to retrieve my utility knife. Luckily, it has survived the earlier assault and remains in place.
I take it, reaching up and cutting off a handful of small branches for my fire. I throw them into the flames, and they catch readily. Seeing this, I find rocks to place around the fire to prevent it from spreading. This forest appears dry enough to catch like a match.
Through the night, I barely catch any sleep. The sounds above and all around keep me alert, and the cold doesn't help. I do, however, manage to find some sleep; With my pistol held tightly in one hand and knife in the other.
As the sun comes up the next day, I awaken from little more than two hours of sleep. My eyelids are heavy, no doubt weighed down by large bags from sleep deprivation. I look around, seeing no sign of danger.that anything was there last night. It brings somewhat a feeling of relief, knowing I had been relatively safe. Then again, perhaps it was just the solid ground and lack of mud to leave tracks that provides me with the false sense of security I’m feeling.
Either way, I cannot stay here, so I pack up what little supplies I have and begin walking once more.
Four days pass like this. Nothing but woods and more woods. One night I am able to find shelter, and the rest I am exposed. Food is scarce, and I can’t afford to waste bullets to hunt. The second night, I had fashioned a wooden spear with my knife and burned the tip for extra strength. Unfortunately, all it has done so far is weigh me down. Nonetheless, I keep it in case it does become useful. I've always hated the feeling of throwing something away, only to need it later.
Finally, on the fourth day nearing noon, I come across my first hint of civilization.
Two small signs, each engraved with strange symbols is on the edge of a clearly marked path, with the signs themselves being in shapes of arrows pointing to either direction.
I run up to the signs, looking them over in disbelief. I can’t read them, and they only come up to my chest. The strange symbols that permeate the signs look alien, but I can make out a heart and horseshoe and that’s it. Everything else is just lines and dots. I look to the right, seeing in the distance a brown haze overlooking a massive desert-like wasteland. I shake my head and look to the left. More forest in this direction, but a path to follow this time. I look past the signs, seeing a large hill of rock in the distance with a cave near the far left. I don’t even consider that option as something far bigger than me might already live there.
Shrugging, I follow the sign pointing to the right. My boots finally hit some solid dirt ground as I step onto the trail, jarring me slightly with every step. After walking through dense forest for days, the feel of solid ground has become a luxury. I look up to the sky; A brilliant shade of blue as mid-day sets in. The sun is blocked out by the overhanging foliage, making it a bit colder than it should be. I don’t mind, considering the alternatives. It could be sweltering hot or bitterly cold but to my luck, its neither. I just keep walking, getting used to the new, hard ground beneath my feet.
As I go, I get a good look at the trees. They’re all covered with large, red and yellow leaves that nearly paint the sky their color. It isn’t long, however, before I begin to feel a trembling in the earth. I kneel down, placing a hand on the compacted dirt to confirm the vibrations aren’t just my cramped feet telling me to rest. No, there is definitely something happening. I look around, beginning to see the leaves fall from the trees all around like a rain of red and yellow. The shaking in the ground intensifies, and so does the leafy rain. I can see a cloud of dust over a small hill, and I immediately take cover behind a large bush just off the path.
The rumbling noise associated with the shaking ground eventually separates into the trademark gallop of a horse. Several horses. I stick my head through the leafy bush, still not able to see clearly onto the path. The rumbling reaches a fever pitch as the galloping noise sounds like its right on top of me. Leaves rain all around, and I can just make out a variety of pastel colored figures speeding by. As I try to get a better look, leaves begin to pile up all around me and block my view. All I can do is lay there and remain hidden.
In a matter of seconds, the pounding hooves and strange figures are gone, and the leaves have completely covered me. Not wanting to wait for a tick to find its way behind my ear, I stand, brushing off any foliage that hitched a ride.
I step back onto the trail, hand on my side arm. I stare at the now distant cloud of dust, before looking the opposite way down the path. Did a herd of horses just run down this path? I think to myself as I stare. And if they were running, were they running away from something, or to something?
Thoughts of the wooden creature that attacked me days ago flash through my mind, and I feel myself tremble slightly. Not wanting to stay and find out what they were running from, I retreat into the dense foliage beyond the edge of the path, but this time I keep the path in sight. I decide to wait for anything that may have been following them, gun held at the ready with the safety off.
Two hours pass like this, judging from my watch. Nothing, not even a mosquito has graced me with its annoying presence. Feeling safe enough, I walk back on to the path and walk in the direction the horses had been running away from. I look down, seeing small horseshoe prints. Curious at the size, I bend down and place my palm on the center of one, finding it to be no bigger than the distance from my wrist to my knuckles. Last time I checked, a horse hoof was bigger than the length of my fist.
Shrugging, I stand up and begin walking again.
Another three hours pass like this, walking on and on without the slightest hint of civilization. My stomach feels like a fire is lit inside, and merely standing from a crouched position is enough to give me a head rush.
Malnutrition is something I've only really experienced once, when I had been in the vast deserts of the Middle East. I had run out of MREs and was on the verge of starvation when a helicopter spotted and rescued me. These past few days have made me wish the pilot hadn't spotted me.
I look up again, expecting to see the same sea of red and yellow as before. However, this time there is nothing but naked branches and the bright orange sky of another ending day. Sighing, I return my tired gaze back to the trail ahead. I can see the hill over which the dust cloud had been approaching earlier, and I begin to walk up the steep face.
The uphill battle saps me of what little strength I have left, and I collapse to my knees when I reach the top. My otherwise light backpack is like a lead weight, and my rifle feels its weight in gold. I let them both slide off my shoulders and I lean forward, resting on my hands and knees.
A few deep breaths later, I look up from my crouched position. The sight that graces my eyes is almost foreign, but it rekindles what little hope I have left of finding civilization.
A cottage, looking like something ripped straight out of The Hobbit movies sits among several chicken coops, and a small creek with a bridge to cross runs a few yards out front. There are far more birdhouses than I care to count, and more dens dotting the small landscape than a meerkat exhibit at a zoo. I come to the conclusion that this place must be a haven for pets and rodents alike.
I quickly gather my backpack and rifle, slinging them over my shoulders and stand. Ignoring the blind patches of my sudden head rush, I take up a slow jog toward the beacon of my newfound hope.
My boots pound heavily on the dirt path, and my loosely drawn backpack straps make it dance around on my back. My breath is coming in and out in very strained, ragged bursts and my heart is pounding weakly in my chest. I can see smoke rising from the chimney and a dim light in the small window facing the trail.
Finally making it to the edge of the bridge, I take the first step in crossing when I hear a sudden melodic voice. I freeze, finally realizing that this cottage might not be uninhabited. From here, I can see the double door, and the the top half swings open.
The voice grows louder every passing second, and my feet refuse to move. Instead, my hand flies to my sidearm, pushing the leather strap up and pulling the .45 caliber pistol from its holster and aiming at the door. My hands tremble as my thumb clicks the safety to the 'off' position, and I can see my rapid pulse in my vision.
The singing stops abruptly, and it is replaced with a soft shout as something inside the cottage falls with a crash. The shadow in the window makes me take my attention away from the door, and I finally get ahold of myself again. What good would shoving a gun in someone's face do me? I think as I quickly re-holster the weapon.
Looking around, I spot a small plateau overlooking the cottage. From a good fifty yard away. The singing resumes, and my focus snaps back the door. Through the darkening sky's bright magenta light, a shadowy figure approaches the door's opening. Thinking fast, I make a dive for the small creek and scurry through the shallow water to hide beneath the bridge.
As the water ripples outward from my previous position, I watch and listen for any sign of approaching people or animals. I do my best to tuck my legs and shoulders beneath the narrow bridge while trying to steady my breathing. I hold my hand over my handgun holster, tensed for any sort of fight if discovered.
For what seems like hours, I stay in my crouched position, not daring to move. I listen to the singing going on behind me as the inhabitant of the cottage goes about her routine. All the while, I begin to question my actions as I watch the sun slip beneath the horizon. Why am I hiding? I could be in a warm bed with a full stomach now if I wasn't so damn suspicious of everything.
It isn't long before the cautious side of my brain interjects.
No, I'm playing this right. I remember the wooden monstrosity that attacked me... And the strange galloping on the path a few hours ago. The leaves were falling like rain as that group passed! That's definitely cause for suspicion...
I shake my head loose of the thoughts that cloud it, and I finally agree with my cautious side. I'll scope the place out from the plateau and decide in the morning whether to approach it.
With my mind made up, I quickly peek out of my position under the small bridge. The singing has ceased and the sun is now completely beneath the horizon. The cover of darkness will give me a chance to run up the steep hill, which looks to be a good five hundred foot run. Gingerly, I step out from the under the small bridge. For some reason, it feels like something is always watching me at whatever I do. The feeling only intensifies as I leave the shelter of the bridge, running for my life up the hill.
Not stopping to look back, I make it to the top and trip over a small rock, landing hard on my side and making the contents of my backpack spill. I grunt as my heart pounds in my ears, and I turn over on my stomach to push myself up. My muscles scream in protest, making me groan as I shed the backpack from my shoulders. Still on my hands and knees, I look around to find that the area is relatively flat and devoid of plants, leaving me with a good sized fifteen by fifteen square foot patch of land for a camp.
I take some time to take a few breaths and listen to my growling stomach. Aside from the deafening crickets and bullfrogs, my stomach emits the only sound that I can recognize in this hellacious forest. Various birds I’ve never heard in my life chirp strange patterns that I can’t tell apart, and the howls of wolves echo through the trees like a ghostly whisper. For now I just stay on my knees, staring at the vast night sky riddled with beautiful stars and an enormous white moon..
Well, at least this place has something nice, I think as I stare up at the night sky.
Through the nights I’ve spent in the forest, not once have I had this clear a view of the night sky, or the sky in general. The trees have always blocked my view with their dense fall foliage, keeping my view on the ground. In hindsight I think it was a good thing to not always be looking up, lest I trip over the many stumps and roots that permeate the forest floor.
A sudden yellow flash right in front of my nose makes me jump back and swat at the air. It is quickly joined by several more and soon, they multiply into the hundreds as fireflies swarm the small plateau. I look around in awe, temporarily forgetting my hunger and soreness. The flies swarm around me before spiraling up in a magnificent sparkling corkscrew and dissipating among the treetops. It is now that I finally get a better look at my surroundings. One side of the plateau is flanked by dark woods, while the other provides a perfect overwatch of the small cottage.
I stand, feeling my lead-filled legs aching in heavy protest. Looking around in the bright moonlight, I see what little had fallen from my backpack. My thermo blanket, canteen, and compass lay bare in the dirt along with my knife. Sighing in frustration, I walk over to each item and pick them up, groaning in pain as my muscles bend and stretch in ways they haven’t bent in days. After replacing everything within my backpack, I finally get a chance to sit and enjoy the light of the moon. An hour passes like this, before out of my peripheral vision I see the light in the cottage fade out as if someone had blown out a candle. The scene makes my eyelids feel much heavier and I yawn loudly. That seems like a good idea. I think as I look around my infant campsite. I sigh, knowing that I still have work to do in order to stay safe through the night.
Another hour passes, but in that time I am able to set up a proper campsite with a small but efficient fire. I keep it small to avoid detection; Something I was taught years ago by a close friend. My mind lingers on the fire, and the friend that taught me about it. The same friend that was with me when I was separated from my group. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of them, where they might have gone, what might have happened… or perhaps it was just a matter of getting separated and just looking in all the wrong places. Whatever the circumstances were, they added up to me trekking through a forest larger than I thought any would be possible in my state.
As the minutes tick by with only my thoughts to ride the time away, my gaze settles upon the cottage a few hundred feet down the steep hill of my perch. It seems so very warm and inviting compared to the hard and cold ground I find myself on for yet another night. As a chill creeps up my spine, I begin to doubt my decision to turn down a possibly inviting inhabitant. The singing I heard before sure didn’t seem to indicate hostility, or even a hint of care in the world. With these thoughts, I console my tired and clouded mind that in the morning, I will watch for the inhabitant to exit the cottage and observe him or her through my scope.
As I lay on the hard ground for yet another restless night, my body cries out in hopes that this will be the last before finally getting some much needed relief of the wilds. My eyes finally close as I watch the firelight dance across my thermal blanket, and a sort of eerily soft voice seems to speak to me as I slip from consciousness.
Rain poured down over me as I ran as fast as I could through the woods. Just behind me was the sounding of a panting, snarling beast that was seemingly having no trouble keeping up with my frantic sprint. My lungs burn and my legs ache like they never have before as I forge ahead, desperate to get away from my pursuer. But to my horror, the beast caught up to and began to lash into me with all the cruelty of harsh words.
“Let’s go, Stone! Do you know where you are right now?!”
I am too winded to respond, so I shake my head.
“You are at the BACK OF THE LINE!MOVE. IT. CHUNKY!!”
Chunky? I think to myself as I look down in outright horror. I can’t see my legs as I run, their length blocked by a massive belly. My belly. It bounces with every step as I run, making me jerk forward as the unfamiliar weight seems to drag me forward like an anchor. Unable to look any longer, I look around at the trees through the rain. They all have bright yellow and orange leaves seeming so familiar to me. My attention is suddenly brought back to my front as a spray of water hits my face. Several other runners are kicking up water from the rain, splashing my face and belly as I somehow catch up to them.
“Damn fine work Stone! Now KEEP IT UP!!”
I keep up my frantic run, feeling my massive belly doing nothing but weighing me down. Everything feels totally wrong as the sky suddenly brightens up and the clouds dissipate, but the rain keeps falling. As I try my best to look up at the strange new sky, I feel the ground beneath my feet suddenly disappear and I plummet downward into nothingness. I scream at the top of my lungs as I feel my large belly suddenly turn to stone and drag me ever faster into the vast expanse. I feel a strong heat begin to collect over my stone belly, and fire begins to permeate my body as I fall even faster into the blackness. My cheeks begin to flap and my eyes water as my clothes begin to tear from my body, while fire trails from my round belly like the tail of a comet.
Trying desperately to see anything but the bright orange fire in my face, I try to hold my hand in front of my eyes. The supersonic air rushing over me makes sure my arm stays back, rendering it useless. I can just make out a gray and lumpy landscape below me, looking like a city. My eyes open wide as I see a skyscraper shoot past my field of view, before I suddenly shift forward and see another barreling toward me. Time seems to slow for a brief moment, and I can see the shocked look on a man’s face as my meteor belly makes contact with the window. Time seems to stop altogether as the man raises his hand in a futile attempt to shield his face from the inevitable impact.
Shattering glass and a loud scream echoes through my mind as I crash into the building and then…
Nothing.
I jolt up with a loud yelp, looking around and clutching my pistol. My breaths come in ragged bursts, and sweat drips from my brow. The feeling of horror is accompanied by a sudden headrush as my heart flutters weakly in my chest, and I’m forced back down to regain my vision. As I lay here, I ponder on what my dream could have meant. My hands run over my stomach, sending a wave of relief through me as I find the smooth and strong stomach I had worked so hard to achieve. Still, the thought of having such a belly again chills me to the bone.
I sit up once more, carefully this time, feeling my back pop somewhat painfully from a full night sleep on the ground. It hits me that for the first time, I had actually slept clean through a night out in the open. I curse myself for not being diligent as rays of sunlight pierce the thick woods overhead, making me squint. I look around, touching each of my fingertips to my thumb to ensure I really am awake. There is a thick fog surrounding the small plateau, and the symphony of thousands of crickets and cicadas echoes through the woods. A loud and thick buzzing noise goes right past my ear, making me flinch and look around. I see nothing but the fog surrounding the plateau, and I move to get up from under my thermal blanket. The buzzing flies right past my ear again, and I swat at it. My pinkie tips something soft, and I look over to my right to see something rather… bizarre.
A hummingbird is hovering just feet away, seemingly staring right at me. It boasts a large size for a hummingbird, and its bright green body shines as it hovers in a ray of sunlight. It hovers, occasionally changing altitude and darting to the left and right as it continues to stare me down. I just watch with pure fascination as the bird just hovers there; A far cry from what hummingbirds would do back in my home town. It suddenly darts closer, chirping at me, I think. I just look around and shake my head, wondering what it's doing. As I look at it, an idea creeps into my head. I slowly reach my hand out, extending my index finger. The little bird darts away for a moment, before slowly approaching and tweeting a few times. My hand trembles from lack of energy as I hold it out for the hummingbird to land.
Astonishingly, the bird lands on the tip of my finger, cocking its head to focus its eye on my face. I look back, feeling my body trembling as I try to remain as still as possible. The bird continues to eye me, occasionally flapping its wings as it tweets away as if expecting me to talk back. With the week I’ve had, why would it matter if I actually tried?
“Uh, hello there…” I say softly.
To my surprise, the bird freezes and turns its head to the side to stare at me with one of its eyes. I don’t know what’s more shocking, the fact that one of the fastest and most hyperactive creatures known to man is sitting perfectly still on my finger, or that it seems to have understood me.
“Can… Can you understand me?” I ask it softly.
It chirps once, still staring at me and unmoving. Of course, now it seems like the bird is directly talking to me. A nagging feeling in my gut and brain is screaming at me that this shouldn’t be possible, but then again, the feeling in my gut could be just the raging hunger.
Great. Now I’m reasoning with myself that talking to a hummingbird is possible. How long has it been since I ate?
As I’m thinking about these things, I don’t even notice the hummingbird was now hovering in front of my face. As I come back to focus, I flinch as I see the hummingbird flying around my head. The loud buzzing is more annoying than my hunger, and I lean forward to get up. The hummingbird does a few more laps around my head, as if to burn off the pent up energy from sitting still on my finger.
Without a hint of warning, it settles on my head, nestling into my hair. I flinch, half expecting it to start pecking my head like Woody Woodpecker. To my surprise, however, it just chirps a bit louder than before, seemingly at nothing in particular. I chuckle as I lean back on my hands, looking up as far as I can go.
“Comfy?” I ask it as I continue to look up.
Something catches my eye as I stare up, the sunlight glancing off of something red and shiny high above. The more I focus on it, the more anxious I get as the shape begins to click in my mind.
A bird feeder.
Fluttershy had been in her chicken coop bright and early, tending to the fresh eggs laid by the hens when the familiar chirping of Hummingway graced her ears. She turned to see him hovering there, chirping loudly. She sighs with a smile as she moves her mane from her face.
“Oh, I’m sorry Hummingway, of course I’ll fill the feeders for you, just give me a few minutes to get the nectar, okay?”
Hummingway darted up and down to show his affirmation before flying up to the feeders on the small forest-flanked plateau. Fluttershy’s soft singing echoed through her cottage as she rumaged through her pantry, getting the special hummingbird liquid food and also grabbing a small funnel. She hovers carefully over to the smaller feeders for the inside birds and chicks, pouring small amounts of seed and water into separate bowls on each birdhouse.
Going through her normal morning routine always made her feel a bit happier, knowing her animals are well taken care of. Fluttershy always took great pride in her animals being well fed and healthy, and being one of the best veterinary ponies in Ponyville, or maybe even all of Equestria. The happiness she felt from the satisfied chirps and squeaks had almost no rival, second only to the joy her friends brought her.
Getting the hummingbird feed, she began trotting at a leisurely pace up toward her bird feeding area. Her humming began to compliment her steps as she climbed the small path up to the plateau, and she could hear Hummingway’s chirping already. This was nothing new, of course. He always beat her there when it was feeding time. He couldn’t be left without food for too long, lest his ever beating wings run out of fuel for flight.
She had climbed a good three quarters of the way up before hearing something rather odd. She didn’t recognize the sound at first, but it sounded like a voice. Incoherent, as if from a strange language. Her ears strained to hear another of the strange sounds and her wings began to lock up as she made the rest of the journey up. What she saw as she parted the shrub to enter her feeding area was far beyond anything she had ever expected. A strange creature was walking about, picking up even stranger looking trinkets and items with Hummingway chirping away at it.
The hummingbird had been pestering me for a good ten minutes now, etching into my already frail patience. As it deliberately tries to land on my head, I’m forced to swat at it to keep it from distracting me. Someone or something has set up these feeders, meaning I’m either on private property, or about to run into…
A small rustle of leaves catches my attention, taking it from the rest of my surroundings and making me stand still. The heavy buzzing of the hummingbird’s wings stops as a rustle of my hair distracts me for a second and I exhale an annoyed breath.
“Fine I’ll take you with me…” I whisper as I strain to listen for anything else.
Another rustle of leaves and the added loud snap of a twig accompanied by a muffled “eep” in a feminine voice makes me whirl my head around and startle the little bird atop it. My hand instinctively grasps the grip of my pistol, my thumb pushing the holster's guard away for easy access. The little bird chirps a few times before darting into the brush as if to search out the noise, leaving me standing here tensed for a fight.
A minute passes, and my hand has lightened its grip on the pistol. I can hear the faint wing buzzing of the hummingbird as it darts around in the thick bushes, chirping at something. I take a few steps forward, hearing another soft and feminine “eep!” in the bushes. I quickly draw my pistol, ready for anything as I start to wade through the chest-high shrubbery. A sudden rustle of leaves to my immediate right makes me jump and squeeze the trigger, hearing a soft click. I silently thank my instinctive thumb safety trigger as I shuffle back into the clearing through the foliage, gaining a better stance and clicking the safety off.
A sudden buzzing and a pressure on my head makes me flinch, but I know my little companion is back. It tweets once, and another rustle in the bushes makes me aim my pistol in that direction. I tense myself as the rustling visibly gets closer, and I close my left eye to aim properly. My hands are shaking and a bead of sweat drops from my brow, even as my breath comes out in slow white puffs of cold smoke. The bird keeps tweeting, as if beckoning whatever is in the bushes to come out.
What happens next makes me question everything I’ve ever known as a small horse-like creature slowly steps from the cover of the bushes, looking up at me with light turquoise and rather large eyes. I take a step back, feeling the gears grinding in my head as it tries to identify the new creature. As I back away, my heel catches a root and I fall over, landing on my back with a loud yelp. The small horse yells in fear, immediately dropping to its belly and putting its hooves over its face. My gun is knocked from my hand as I land and it slides over to where my makeshift bed was, a good five feet away. I tilt my head up, seeing the creature on its belly and oddly enough, I can make out two bulges on either side of its back.
The hummingbird hovers between us, darting its head as if to look at both of us before zipping over to the shivering creature. I sit up slowly, getting a slight headrush as I stare at the newcomer. Its light pink hair along with the cream yellow body immediately strikes me as odd as I finally get a good look at it. I notice the little bird is on the ground, tweeting away into the creature’s flattened ears. After a good ten seconds of looking, the hummingbird parts the pink hair, and I see a large turquoise eye crack and slowly open, instantly settling on me and darting closed with another “eep!”.
I am at a loss for words as I slowly sit up, only able to do so slowly to prevent another headrush. I observe the little bird tugging on the horse’s hair, flying up to try and get it to stand. It struggles, but eventually stands up to look at me at its full height. It opens its mouth to make a noise, before something I never expected came silently fourth.
“Whuen ta moins?”
I just stand there, standing blankly. I had just spoke to me... its mouth moving with the barely audible sounds.
“Did you just…” I ask, still trying to make sense of what it just said. It wasn’t english, and I wasn’t exactly fluent in any other language. Failed high school spanish two my Sophomore and Junior years, barely managing to pass my Senior.
“Whuen vit sen…?” It asks again, this time more assertively while taking a step forward. I step back in turn, keeping the same distance. Seeing this, it cocks its head and appendages seem to sprout from its sides. I gasp, watching as a pair of wings extend halfway before stopping.
I raise my gun, pointing it at the horse-like creature.
“Don’t come any closer,” I snarl.
It stops dead, ears flattening and lowering its head. Or her head, rather. The voice was clearly feminine.
"Dan voui... Ic kua..." It says, voice calm and soothing rather than scared and timid.
I lower my gun, feeling a bit less tense as it speaks. Long flowing pink hair, coupled with cream yellow fur certainly doesn’t register as dangerous, but then again, a fig flower doesn’t look so dangerous to a wasp.
“English? Can you understand what I’m saying?” I ask cautiously, trying to get a read on the creature’s lingual skills. Any Zoologist would’ve passed out by now.
She cocks her head, wings fluttering a bit along with her left ear. “Di sen sroka Equenta…?”
What the hell is she saying… I think to myself as I try to make sense of her strange accent and completely new language. I go ahead and re-holster my gun, calming down quite a bit as her demeanor shows no signs of threat. I slowly take another step back, not knowing what else to say.
“...My name is Logan Stone…” I say, pointing a finger at my chest.
“Lugan… Stune?” She parrots, trying to mimic my “o” sound rather terribly.
I nod, smiling a little. Her eyes flick down suddenly as I do, and her ears lay back. Puzzled, I close my mouth and flatten my smile. She seems to look somewhat relieved as I do, and takes a step closer. I don’t move, watching her carefully as she approaches. Now only a few feet away, I can see her with all of her size and shape. She most definitely resembles an equine, even if she only comes up to my chest. But the things that really take me off guard are the wings. I stare at them, marveling at how a creature like her could even be possible. My mind wracks the memories within, trying to come up with a name for her. Finally, memories serve me well as I remember a certain mythological creature- a horse with wings.
"A pegasus..." I whisper.
"Flueva?!" A voice in the distance calls.
Rainbow Dash flew high over Ponyville, scouting the area for rogue clouds that had recently escaped from Cloudsdale. Her search had thrown her all over the small town, and even into Appleoosa. As much as she hated to admit it, she was tiring out.
She finally reached Ponyville panting and swearing under her breath. With a small load of clouds in her hooves, she looked over toward Fluttershy's cottage in the distance. Maybe she'd be willing to help gather the rest if she asked really nicely...
If I had opposable ears, they would've flicked to the right as the yell reached me. I snap my head to the right, as does the little pegasus. The voice had been feminine and relatively close by. I look back at the pegasus, taking a step back. If my suspicions were correct, I was the one considered impossible to exist. God only knows what would happen if I were surrounded by a group of these things...
Seeing my step back, the little pegasus takes a step forward, looking around. I watch, constantly glancing in the direction of the shout as she moves about. I only just now take notice of the hummingbird, still hovering at her side.
"Fluttershy?!"
Yet another shout sounds through the trees, far closer than the last and startling the little pegasus, making her a bit more frantic as it shuffles along the edge of the forest. I look down, seeing my wallet laying there. I bend down to get it, standing again on shaking legs. To my shock, the little pegasus is standing a mere foot away, holding something in its mouth.
I stare into its large teal eyes, looking down to see a white flower in its teeth. She quickly puts it down, before smiling up at at me and backing up. I look down to the flower, seeing it to be a large white daisy. I look up again to see the pegasus gone, presumably accompanied by the little green hummingbird.
I kneel down, feeling the strength in my legs wane as I do, almost falling onto my stomach. My arms catch my weight just as another shout comes through the trees. I grasp the flower in my fingers, slipping it into my front left jacket pocket before looking back toward the cottage.
I stand while ignoring the headrush the action brings, wading through the bushes. I stop dead as another voice graces my ears, and I wait in silence.
"Wes waut sen?!"
"Ie wan a mec vercuva feddensie axeua..."
Dash hovered over Fluttershy's cottage, annoyed and out of breath. She had been calling for her friend for five full minutes, knowing she was home. She never left the skylight open while she was out.
Her ears perked to the left as Fluttershy flew out from within the dense canopy of the forest, and she crossed her forelegs over her chest.
"Where were you?!"
Fluttershy looked down as she approached Dash, clearly embarrassed and shaken about something.
"I was in my bird feeder area..."
"Oh really? Is that why you're redder than Applejack's barn? What's going on Flutters?"
Fluttershy knew she was pinned. If anything, she was a worse liar than Applejack. Her timid nature just didn't allow her to keep a secret.
"O-Okay.. Here goes..."
I've been squatting here for five minutes now, unable to understand a single word being said. The prismatic pegasus has been hovering next to the yellow one, speaking in the strange language. It all sounds like a bunch of jibberish, but the fact that the cyan one keeps looking in my direction makes me think the yellow one has betrayed my position.
Just great... Looks like I gotta go.
Mustering the strength in my legs once more, I stand and make my way back into the forest. I can hear the rustle of leaves and calls of voices behind me as I navigate the thick brush, trying to make as little noise as possible.
I keep eying the flower, thinking back to the little pegasus. Is this a gift? I show of friendship? Shit, It could be a proposal for all I know. I shiver a little from that last thought, still trying to make my way through the bushes into the forest. Finally, after several minutes of lashing thorns and tall roots, I come to the first clearing. I’m taken aback, seeing the same massive field I had encountered the day before. The waist-high golden grass rolls with the gusts of wind that pummel them, and enormous boulders flanked by tall trees dot the land all the way to the horizon.
Not wanting to backtrack, I forge ahead with the little energy I can muster. I can only hope something awaits me on the other side of this rolling plain.
“Logan, where the hell are we going?” My friend Zach asked me as we trudged through the woods near our shared home.
A tall man in his mid thirties, Zach had been discharged from the Marines when an I.E.D exploded next to his Humvee. His leg had been shredded just below the knee from the shrapnel, forcing the medics to amputate. He had been granted a new one made of titanium from the Wounded Warriors program, allowing him to walk almost normally again within a year’s time. However, he was still vulnerable to long distance walking, let alone hiking like we were.
“Yea really, man,” my other friend Ethan piped up. “We’ve been walking for almost an hour. Where exactly is this hunting area?”
It was only eighteen hundred hours when we left for our weekend hunting trip, using our time on leave from active duty to relax a bit before returning to Afghanistan. We were back stateside, in a town just north of Aspen, Colorado. The date was September eighth of the current year, and the trees all through the forest surrounding the town burned with bright orange and yellow foliage. Fall was here, but the winter winds weren’t far behind. Knowing this, I decided to use the time I had left from overseas to take my close friends on a little hunting trip to bring our time together to a close. Had I only known what was to happen… maybe we could’ve done something a bit more meaningful.
I sighed and looked back to them. Both were wearing a bright orange hunting vest, along with King’s Woodland Shadow camouflage jackets and matching pants. They also carried their choice of side arm along with their rifles.
“I told you it’d be a trip, but the cabin is only about another half hour from here,” I said reassuringly. “Come on guys, when you left for leave, did you leave your manhood with your uniform?”
Ethan and Zach both had a laugh at that before finally sighing and walking forward.
“So, what kind of game do you expect to find up there, Logan?” Ethan asked as he caught up to my pace of walking. Zach lagged behind a bit, his slight limp beginning to show as the soft clatter of his false leg made itself known with every step.
“Uh, Elk and deer I think. Maybe a bear or two if we’re lucky. I have an old Ford F-150 parked at the cabin we can use to haul our game back to the house when we’re done.”
“Uh, you got tags for all that?” Zach asked as he finally caught up.
“Of course he does, dude,” Ethan assured, albeit a bit hesitantly. “...Right Logan?”
“Duh, why do you think I said it?” I replied with a roll of my eyes.
“Because you’re you?” They both said in unison.
We all shared a laugh at that, walking onward to our destination.
My mind is brought violently back to reality as my right foot steps into nothing but air. The weight on my back and lack of energy from my starving state prevent me from correcting myself properly, sending me falling to my ass from my panicked overcorrection. As I lay there cursing my lack of concentration, I look up at the sky which is starting to turn a dull orange as the sun begins to set.
“Day five with no food…” I sigh to myself as I attempt to sit up. I look all around, seeing nothing but grassland and the occasional tree dotting the landscape. Looking forward, I see just what it was that nearly made me fall forward. A massive hole in the ground, easily as wide as I was tall and so deep I can’t even see the bottom.
“What the hell,” I ask myself as I lean forward to get a better look into the almost perfectly round hole.
I peek over the side, seeing the walls and the nothingness below. I can’t even begin to fathom what made a hole like this, but after meeting that pegasus earlier this morning, my mind is almost willing to believe anything at this point. The more I stare down into the chasm, I begin to notice ribs along the length of the tunnel. I slowly begin to realize that this hole was not made naturally. Looking around again to make sure I’m alone, I get back to my feet and dust myself off. The weather is only getting colder, and my jacket and pants won’t be enough soon.
I walk around the gaping maw in the ground, making sure to keep my distance from the edges in case they aren’t as stable as they look. As I reach the other side, a sudden rustle of the grass catches my attention. I look back toward the tunnel, seeing to my shock a rabbit bursting through the edge of the grass. It barely manages to stop in time, squealing as it teeters over the edge of the hole. As I see it, my mind only comes up with one word: dinner.
Kneeling slowly on shaking legs, I go for my pistol as the rabbit sniffs the edge of the hole. I'm amazed it hasn't spotted me yet, seeing as how I'm only mere feet from it. I slowly remove the holster guard with a soft rubbing noise of leather on leather, making the rabbit pause it's sniffling and point its ears toward me. I freeze, praying to anyone who's listening not to let it get away. The seconds tick by; Seconds full of worry and anxiety as I watch the first food in a week hop around the hole. Finally, getting the guard completely off the grip of the pistol, I pull it from the holster as smoothly as my shaking arm can. My thumb clicks the safety off, but the rabbit hears and its ears perk toward me. Ignoring the obvious danger of losing it, I raise the gun, closing an eye to aim properly. As my finger squeezes the trigger, the rabbit only stares at me and cocks its head, as if it had never seen anything like me before. The new sight would prove to be its last as my finger pulls the trigger, firing a round directly into its upper body. It squeals for a brief moment; The bullet throwing it into the tall grass from the powerful .45 round.
I quickly stand, smiling from ear to ear as I run over to the grass’s edge with renewed vigour. I slow as I reach the edge, looking around carefully for the hopefully dead rabbit. It doesn’t take long to find it, and I lift it by the ears. I sigh, seeing that my shot had gone right through the breast, destroying a good portion of the potential meat. In any case, the kill is a victory as I know I’ll be enjoying the spoils of my shooting soon enough.
“You doing alright, Zach?” I called behind us as I reached the top of the steep semi-rocky hill we were climbing.
“Oh yea! Totally fine! My titanium leg isn’t doing ANYTHING to slow me down!” He responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.
I sighed and sat at the edge of the hill looking down at Ethan and Zach, the former of whom was just now reaching the top. I took his hand and hoisted him up just as the rock he was using as a foothold gave and tumbled down the hill. He sighed in relief and looked down at Zach as the rock barely missed him.
“Hey! Watch it!” He yelled in annoyance.
Ethan chuckled a bit before getting on his belly and leaning over the edge, extending his long arm and using another rock as a handhold. Zach looked up and reached his own arm up, grasping Ethan’s hand just as the rock his normal leg was standing on broke away. Zach’s weight began to pull Ethan down, so I immediately grabbed his ankles and held on for dear life. The cliff wasn’t a straight drop, but steep enough to where if one were to lose their footing, they’d slide down a very painful series of thorns and loose rocks all the way to the bottom.
I pulled with all my might, heaving Ethan up over the edge and with him, a well shaken Zach. After Zach finally got to his feet, he tried his best to stop heaving in suppressed panic and anger. He adjusted his backpack and rifle on his back, sighing.
“I swear man, if there’s a trail around here that we didn’t take just so we could climb that damn hill, I’m gonna put my foot so far up your ass the water on my knee will quench your thirst…” Zach threatened.
I did my best not to laugh, shaking my head. “You really need to watch a different movie rather than Major Payne...”
Ethan did his best to hide his own chuckle as Zach scoffed. “We’ll see who’s laughing after I break my titanium leg off in your...”
Zach’s sudden trail off made me look in the direction he was facing. My chest suddenly felt like lead as my eyes fell upon a nicely made trail not fifty feet from where we were standing. I could only guess Zach was doing the same as I trailed my eyes down the length, seeing it curve in a gentle ascent up the hill we had just climbed. Knowing what was coming next, I slowly started to step away from Zach, my laughter slowly starting to etch its way through my tightly pursed lips.
“YOU BASTARD!” He suddenly screamed as he took off after me, surprisingly fast for having a titanium leg. I howled with laughter and apologies as he chased me up the next hill, followed shortly by a distantly amused Ethan. He didn’t want to admit it, but our banter made him happy he came.
I savor the meat as it falls off the bone into my mouth, allowing me to relish the minty flavor from a few mint leaves I had in my pocket. The mint, along with some oregano and basil I had found worked wonders as an impromptu dry rub. Luckily, the rabbit had boasted more meat than I had expected, filling my long empty belly full of deliciously roasted meat. There were no leftovers, so I knew I had to savor the full sensation while it lasted. Tomorrow would be another day, and through the night my body would burn through the food I had eaten like a fire burns through dry timber. As the sun finally slips under the horizon, I have a satisfied smile on my face for the first time in a full week.
I stare into the night sky as I lay on my small cot of leaves and dirt. The full feeling in my belly and my revitalized energy is keeping me awake, and my somewhat enhanced senses aren’t doing anything to help. I can hear all around me the crackle of my small fire, the bats that squeak overhead… even the light rustle of grass in every direction of the tiny clearing I had set up camp. My eyes scan the heavens, eyes darting from star to star among the millions. To my dismay however, I cannot spot any of the usual constellations from my previous attempts at stargazing back home. The Big and Little Dippers are seemingly nonexistent, and there is no North Star. Orion is gone, replaced by a babble of randomly placed stars that light up the sky like a poorly organized Christmas tree.
There’s a Michael J. Fox joke there, but that’s beneath me… I think with an amused smirk. As I stare, an idea slowly seeps its way into my mind. Within my backpack, I might have taken my IPod Touch with me when I left for the hunting trip. With that in mind, I sit up and instinctively look around before reaching over for my backpack. I open the largest pocket first and dig around. Only the metal of my compass, paper of my maps, and the leather of my skinning knife’s sheath grace my hand. I re-zip that pocket and go one pocket down. There I find a rock I had picked up from the trail Ethan, Zach and I used to get to the cabin, my knife’s whetstone, and… The hard Otterbox on my IPod. I take it, pulling it from the backpack with its long trail of earphones. With a smile on my face, I turn it on and look at the battery percentage. Less than sixty percent, but more than enough to give me some relaxing music. My brain yells at me that this probably isn’t a good idea, seeing as I was still completely exposed to any sort of dangerous animal who might be out for a nocturnal snack. However, I decide to let my logical side take the night off as I insert the earbuds into my ears and lay back. Using my backpack as a pillow, I allow myself to enjoy the first song in two weeks.
“Scootaloo? Sweetie Belle? Where ya’ll going?” Applebloom asked as she hopped down from her family’s cider stand to join her friends. Sweetie and Scootaloo both sported their saddlebags along with huge grins and the fire of adventure in their eyes. It was odd in fact, that Scootaloo was up at this early morning hour, especially on a day with no school.
“Get your saddlebag, Applebloom! We’re going gem hunting!” Scootaloo yelled as she gave her wings a buzz and bounced a few times.
Sweetie nodded and her horn sparked to life with its jade green aura, casting a small circle of magic around them. The layers of earth showed themselves a few feet below the surface, bringing a huge smile to Sweetie’s face. “See? I can hold the spell like it’s second nature! All that Twilight Time really paid off!”
Applebloom’s face soon mirrored her friends’ as she observed the layers of earth. “Well I’ll be a… a…” She paused, unable to think of a clever wordplay. “...Me!”
Both Sweetie and Scootaloo looked at each other with raised eyebrows before exploding into laughter. Applebloom sat on her rump and blushed hard as her friends got their laugh at her expense. After a few seconds, she rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Aw come on ya’ll. I ain’t my big sis so I don’t know what ya’ll were expectin’...” She sighed in a rather unamused tone as she got up from her seat on the ground. They were only about a hundred feet from the farmhouse, so Applebloom elected to go alone while her friends caught their breath.
“Sorry Applebloom,” Sweetie piped up as she wiped a tear from her shimmering green eyes. “It was just too great not to laugh at!” Scootaloo nodded her agreement and quickly joined Applebloom on her right flank, and Sweetie ran up on her left.
“...Applebloom?” Scootaloo asked with a hint of worry echoing in her voice. The slightly bigger earth filly turned abruptly to look between her friends. “Yea?” She asked them with a raised eyebrow.
“You alright? We didn’t mean to make fun of you…” Scootaloo said with her gaze toward the ground.
Sweetie simply nodded, nervously making circles in the ground with her forehoof. Applebloom’s steely gaze slowly began to lose its razor edge as her mouth couldn’t conceal her smile any longer. “Aw its alright guys, ya’ll know I can’t stay mad at ya.”
Both Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked at each other with a smile of relief as Applebloom wrapped them both in a big and tight hug. “Alright you guys,” she said as she let her friends go. “I’m gonna get my saddlebag and meet ya’ll out here in a few minutes okay?”
Her friends nodded and sat on her porch as Applebloom darted inside. Scootaloo looked at Sweetie interrogatively. “So uh, where did you have in mind to go gem hunting?” She asked as she adjusted the straps on her saddlebag.
“Remember that huge field we went to last year for your fourteenth birthday?”
“Yea?” Scootaloo replied as she cocked her head in curiosity.
“Well Rarity said that might be a great spot to go looking."
Scootaloo's eyes twinkled as she realized they'd be going on a potentially fun adventure. Her heart hammered in her chest and her wings buzzed by themselves. “Awesome!!”
Sweetie giggled as Applebloom galloped from the front door of her home, sliding to a dusty stop in front of her friends. “Alright Cutiemark Crusaders!” She exclaimed, standing on her hind legs and holding her foreleg to the sky. “Let’s move ‘em out!”
The all joined in, standing as tall as they could to join their forehooves in the air.
“Cutiemark Crusaders Gem Hunters, YAY!”
Its been two hours since I woke up from one of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had in my life. If only I hadn’t fallen asleep with the music still playing, maybe I’d have more than twenty percent battery left. Feeling like an idiot, I sit up and lock the screen after pressing pause.
The sun was only just beginning to clear the horizon, and my little camp space is being bathed in dull orange light. Its a miracle I wasn't attacked by some God forsaken creature during the night, so I count my blessings for the next hour or so while I clean up my campsite.
As expected, a deep rumble from my belly reaches my ears as the burning sensation from hunger fills my head. I sigh, knowing there is nothing left of the rabbit. I find it surprising that the mint leaves tasted so good, even with the pocket lint. Usually mint messes with my stomach, but this time it apparently just didn't care enough to tell me.
I smack my dry lips, reaching for my canteen. To think I almost didn't bring this…
After drinking about half of the water I have left, I lay back to try and relax a little. The orange sky makes me somewhat smile as memories of my friends begin to return.
“I’m still gonna kick your ass, Logan,” Zach huffed in annoyance.
I looked over at him with a smirk and sniffed the air. “Right… Do you smell something burning?
Ethan scoffed and walked up between us, putting each hand on our shoulders. “Come on guys,” he started. “As much as I’d pay to see that I don’t think it would be fruitful to the hunting.”
Zach rolled his eyes and nodded. “It was a joke, dude.”
“Yea, we joke, Ethan. You ever done that before?” I added
He rolled his eyes before stopping and staring straight forward. The look on his face mirrored that of someone struck with extreme surprise. Zach and I looked at Ethan, then to each other, before finally following Ethan’s eyes to where he was looking. My heart sank into my stomach as I saw what loomed before us. The cabin we were walking to was nothing more than a smoldering heap of charred wood and ash.
I took off as fast as I could in a mad dash toward the wreckage despite the calls of my friends. I reached the front door, which was now merely a charred metal frame. I stepped through it, looking around in disbelief as the still smoldering remains glowed with red embers. I fell to my knees as I finally registered the extent of the damage. Our cabin was gone, destroyed in a torrent of flames.
Surprisingly, Zach was the first to reach me; The clatter of his false leg grabbing my attention from the wreckage. I looked up at him with a mixture of sadness and anger, completely unsure of what happened to cause the fire.
“What the hell happened?” He asked as he extended a hand to help me up.
I took it, squeezing a bit too hard from the anger and making him wince. He hoisted me up with my equipment, eyes still glued to the smoldering wreckage. Ethan finally arrived next to us, sharing our shock and surprise. After his initial observations, he put his hands up while taking a step back.
“Sweetie Belle, we’ve been walking for hours!” Scootaloo complained as she stepped on yet another large thorn. Her hooves weren’t completely solid just yet, and were still susceptible to sharp stabbing plants. She was almost green with envy as she watched Applebloom crush the thorns like paper bags under her already hardened hooves.
Sweetie sighed as she kept casting the spell on the ground, looking for gems. “I’m sorry guys, I think its just a bit further,” Sweetie pleaded as she sat down to relax a bit. The magical strain she was putting on her horn was making it throb and give off visible heat waves. As much as she hated to admit it, her big sister was far better at magic than she was. At least for now.
“Rarity told ya it was about an hour trip, right Sweetie?” Applebloom asked as she sat directly in a bushel of thorns that made Scootaloo wince and shiver.
Sweetie nodded and took a bottle of water from her saddlebag, then levitated it with some difficulty to drink some. She poured the rest on her horn with a loud hiss that made her friends cringe. “Ahhh, that’s the ticket…” Sweetie sighed as she laid back with a dopey smile.
Scootaloo snickered and sat down herself. “Jeez, sweetie, you look like you just got finished-”
A sudden surge of magic bright enough to cut Scootaloo off lit up Sweetie’s horn and she shuddered. A huge blush covered her face and her eyes crossed as the glow became brighter.
Applebloom and Scootaloo looked at each other with raised eyebrows, before looking back at Sweetie. “Uh, you alright?” They both asked in unison. A few seconds later, the ground all around them suddenly became translucent with the shine of hundreds if not thousands of gems sparkling up at them.
Scootaloo and Applebloom’s jaws cratered the ground as they stared. “Scoots, get the-”
The sharp scrape of a shovel impaling the dirt cut Applebloom off as Scootaloo started to dig with a fire in her eyes. Sweetie had just now gotten ahold of herself and looked down at the fruits of her magic. “Ooo…” She whispered. “Pretty…”
This damn leaf won’t quit slapping my face as I look out on the massive and seemingly desolate landscape. Nothing but a dotting tree here and there and yellow hay-like grass. Kinda reminds me of Maximus’ death scene in the movie Gladiator. The tree I climbed is massive, easily forty meters tall, providing me with an amazing view of the surrounding area. I only climbed about thirty meters, seeing as beyond that point I had run out of sturdy limbs. My rifle is resting against the tree, with the barrel against the trunk and the stock against a large limb to my left.
“Funny, the whole reason of me climbing this damn tree was to get a twenty on where I was in correspondence to the forest, not take in the scenery,” I tell myself. I take my rifle and a round from my belt, sliding it into the chamber and clicking the bolt closed. Bringing it up and aiming it toward the treeline, I reach up and adjust the eyepiece, making the reticle razor sharp. I take the small handheld rangefinder from my backpack and aim it toward the forwardmost trees.
"Holy shit... Three miles?" I ask myself as I lean against the trunk of the tree. "No way I'm gonna get a good scope adjustment from that."
Sighing, I look around for a target of equal height and less than a mile out. Seeing nothing from the area I’m facing, I decide to make my way around the huge trunk of the tree to get an all-round view. Seeing another tree in the distance, looking no further than a mile, I take my rangefinder and take aim. One and a half mile out.
“Guess that’ll have to do.”
As I take aim, I notice the grasses on the ground between the tree and I are moving wildly, suggesting wind patterns are not the same everywhere. I sigh, knowing this will definitely affect my bullet’s trajectory, and therefore lead to an inaccurate scope adjustment. So I watch and wait, hoping the grasses will settle and the conditions will be right. As I wait however, the math and effects of the area continue to whittle my confidence. The .308 bullet is not designed to be accurate at this distance, and wherever I am, I can’t really add the Coriolis Effect into the equation. I could be on a planet the size of Jupiter and not even know it. But if I was, the gravity would surely be different… right? The bizarre thought brings me back to the question of where I am and the memory of how I got here…
“I know it wasn’t you, Ethan…” I sigh. I walked through the embers and still smoking wreckage, wondering how the overhead and surrounding trees were untouched. The fire that destroyed the two story cabin would surely have been high enough…
I watched Ethan looking under charred pieces of wood and glass, figuring he was searching for the cause of the blaze. I quickly decided to look with him, hoping my EXO Ironclad gloves would be enough to protect my hands from any nails and red coals. Zach spoke up, leaning against a support beam that shimmered with glowing red veins of burned material.
“I don’t get it,” he inquired. “The trees all around the cabin are completely untouched and even the lawn isn’t charred or even touched for that matter.”
Ethan nodded in agreement as he surveyed the area. “You think someone planned and contained the fire manually?” He asked as he flipped a blackened piece of wall.
Nodding, I looked toward what used to be a small coat closet near the living room entrance. The door was charred and blackened, but strangely harbored no structural damage. I raised an eyebrow, pulling the straps of my backpack a little tighter as I approached it.
“Hey guys, check this out. Doesn’t this closet door look weird to you?”
Both Ethan and Zach dropped their pieces of wreckage they were examining and walked over, both sharing quizzical looks as they nodded their agreement.
“Yea, no kidding,” Zach whispered as he looked the door over a bit more.
“Okay, how is that even possible?” Ethan asked as he put a hand on it. His glove took with it the black char, exposing the still white door beneath.
“But... its wood… shouldn’t it have gone up with the rest of the cabin?” I asked in awe.
“Makes zero sense,” Ethan said as he wiped the black off his glove on his pants.
I walked over some rubble to see behind the door, confirming my suspicions that the contents of the closet had been destroyed. Something was up, that much I knew, but what? I’ve never heard of anything like this happening in my entire life, and I had no doubt that this would stump even the most seasoned firefighting Veteran. I turned to Zach and Ethan, the former of whom having just cracked a joke in reference to his blackened glove.
“Once you go black, you never go back…” Zach chuckled as Ethan struggled to remove the black char from his glove.
I rolled my eyes and placed a hand on the door’s knob, feeling a sudden shock through my gloved hand. Though not really painful, it was a surprise and made me jerk my hand back. The action made me elbow Ethan, who had come up from behind, right in the stomach.
“Hey!” He yelped as he held his stomach from the pain.
“Woops, sorry. The knob shocked me through the glove.”
“How?” He asked as he looked it over.
“Don’t know,” I replied. “Probably just my imagination.”
I turn the knob, opening the door and looking inside as if expecting something. I still don’t know why, but I had expected to see Narnia or the surface of mars. I wasn’t crazy, but the lone door among all the rubble and burnt wreckage seemed crazy. Like it was there for a purpose. Or maybe it was a fireproofing experiment my grandfather had attempted way back when. Whichever the case, it was one helluva door to withstand such a fire with next to zero ill effects.
I walked through the door frame and closed the door behind me from habit. I felt something wash over me, like a warm blanket’s embrace in a cold night. It was odd, but I just attributed it to a heat wave from the still smoldering ruins of the cabin. I wouldn’t learn how wrong I was until I turned around to see nothing but forest in all directions.
“Guys…?”
As I come back to reality, I notice the grasses have all but come to a total standstill. Thinking it's now or never, I pull the trigger and fire a round toward the tree. I keep my scope as steady as I can through the recoil, waiting for the impact. After three seconds, I can see the puff of debris where the round struck the tree a few centimeters to the right and below the center of the reticle.
“It’ll have to do.”
With my scope somewhat adjusted, I start my descent from the high tree. As I do however, I notice something off in the distance. A direction I’ve apparently never faced before since I’ve never noticed the large rocky outcrop in the distance. Figuring there might be a means for shelter among the rocks, I climb the rest of the way down and make way for the rocks.
“Rarity is gonna flip!” Sweetie squealed as she loaded up her saddlebag with the shimmering assorted gems.
“I know!” Scootaloo chimed in. “We could buy all sorts of stuff for the clubhouse!”
"Yea, as long as it ain't another one o’ them industrial pet dryers," Applebloom chuckled.
They all shared a laugh as they stocked up their saddlebags with hundreds of bits of worth of natural gems and jewels. Applebloom’s bags were nearly bursting at the seams but she didn’t seem weighed down at all, while Sweetie’s bags were both roughly half full and she was sweating. Scootaloo wasn’t faring much better, with only three quarters of her bags filled at most.
"Um, guys... What's say we take a break, huh?" Scootaloo suggested as tough as she could.
Sweetie quickly nodded and sat down, letting her bags slide down her back onto the ground with a sharp gravel-like noise. Applebloom sighed and nodded, sitting next to her tired friends but keeping her bags on.
"Just think girls, when we get back, we could buy enough supplies to expand the clubhouse to three times what it is now!" Sweetie delightfully suggested as she inspected her forehooves for chips.
"Well, it ain't over 'till it's over, Sweetie Belle," Applebloom sighed. "We still gotta get all this back before dark, and we easily got a four hour walk."
Both Scootaloo and Sweetie looked up in worry, seeing that the sun had dipped considerably since they started digging. The wide canyon they were in was encompassed by near vertical walls, far too high for any of them but Scootaloo to get out of. The only way back was through where they came in, and the sun was just peeking over the canyon edge. Applebloom sighed as the shadow reached where they were sitting.
"We uh, we better get going then, huh," Scootaloo suggested as she hoisted her bags back into her back.
A few small rocks suddenly tumbled from the top of the canyon wall to their left, drawing all three fillies' attention. Their ears swiveled and their eyes darted upwards, but to their relief, nothing was there.
"C'mon girls, time ta move..."
Applebloom quickly took the lead and walked with a considerable pace, forcing her tired friends to keep up. Something didn't feel right in her gut about this place, as though each turn and step brought more and more eyes on her and her friends. Her coat stood on end as the feeling intensified, and her ears splayed back on their own. She looked back at her friends, whose heads were also on a swivel. Applebloom knew her friends were feeling the same eeriness as her.
"Fee... Fi... Fo... Fum..."
All three fillies froze in horror as the echoing voice filled the canyon.
"A-Applebloom?" Sweetie squeaked as she glued herself to her side.
"Y-Yea... I heard it..."
There was a dramatic pause as the wind through the canyon seemed to cease its gentle flow.
"We smell... A bag full of rum..."
Sweetie started to shiver as those words graced her ears like a rusty nail on a chalkboard. Her friends were confused but easily just as scared.
"Oh no... D-D-Dia..."
Another sudden fall of rocks from the cliffside made Sweetie squeak in suppressed panic. It was accompanied by an echoing snicker and soft, near inaudible paw pats on gravel. Scootaloo was trying to maintain her tough facade, but her involuntary trembling was making her fail miserably.
"B-Bag of r-rum...?" Applebloom whispered. "But w-we're carrying-"
"GEMS!"
A huge bipedal creature exploded from the ground only inches away from the trio's tails like a spring loaded mole, making a swipe for their saddlebags with its enormous paws. The three fillies squealed in terror, jumping out of their skins like startled cats. Applebloom’s saddlebags were ripped off her back, but not before the strap around her belly took her with them. It tore mid swing, flinging her into the canyon wall with a loud thud. She yelped in pain while Scootaloo ran over to her undoubtedly hurt friend. As she ran over, Sweetie shrieked in horror from behind as another, larger creature descended from the canyon wall.
“Gem finding pony! Good Gem hunter! You MINE now!”
The creature knelt down on the petrified unicorn filly, scooping her up and running as fast as it could down the canyon. Scootaloo, still trying to wake Applebloom, looked back and was torn between her two friends. She knew she couldn't save them both, and she was no match for even one of the three beasts that surrounded her and Applebloom. She looked up at the closest one and bared her teeth as she stood over her friend in a defensive posture.
"Oooh... You no gem hunter... You tasty snack!"
Scootaloo swallowed thickly and growled a bit, standing defiantly over Applebloom.
"Don't come any closer you monster!!" Scootaloo yelled as she made an attempt to bite the creature's paw.
It simply laughed and swatted her aside like a flea with one solid swipe, knocking the breath out of her and sending her tumbling into a large rock against the cliffside. Dazed but not out, she attempted to stand but was greeted by a sharp pain in her left foreleg making her yelp. She looked up to see the monster that hit her kneeling over and grabbing Applebloom by her hind leg, picking her up effortlessly and dangling her over his mouth with a menacing giggle.
"N-No... Applebloom!!" Scootaloo reached out for her endangered friend but couldn't get up from where she was. Was this it? Was this how her and her friends' journeys ended? These thoughts clouded her mind as the creature dangled her unconscious friend over his gaping maw.
She closed her eyes and turned her head, unable to watch what was about to happen. But out of nowhere, she heard a sudden thump, followed almost immediately by a sharp cracking sound. The echo through the canyon indicated that it came from afar, so she opened her eyes and looked around. Amazingly, Applebloom lied on the ground while the creature looked down at its chest. It's paw was soaked in a dark liquid, and it fell over with a ground shaking thud.
Completely astounded and scared, the dead monster's counterparts looked at each other and nodded, both reaching for Scootaloo and Applebloom. Scootaloo attempted to fight but was held tight, almost suffocating as they started moving quickly toward the next bend in the canyon. She screamed in panic, praying to anyone listening for help. The creature quickly squeezed the air from her lungs and continued running, but suddenly its head snapped forward as a red spray exploded from its forehead. It dropped Scootaloo, letting the asphyxiated filly roll limply to the side as it face planted into the ground.
She looked up with bleary vision, feeling herself slipping away into unconsciousness when the silhouette of a tall creature approaching caught her attention. Thinking it was another of the same monster, she forced her eyes to stay open long enough to see a strange appendage reaching down for her.
The last thing she felt before going under was the sensation of being lifted and carried in arms.
![http://i.gyazo.com/f2d7e46c24f6aa69c889aa35343430b4.png[/img]](http://i.gyazo.com/f2d7e46c24f6aa69c889aa35343430b4.png[/img]){kind=link}
