> Winter's Bite > by regulator133 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue > --------------------------------------------------------------------------         The smoldering wreckage of the helicopter creaked as it came to a stop in the snow, the flurry of white beginning to cover it almost instantly as it stopped moving. Engine fires began to subside, leaving the wreckage almost completely consumed by darkness. Creaking of the vehicle’s steel giving way rang out as the tail section of the chopper broke free and fell into dense snow that had accumulated. A groan of pain could be heard within the wreckag, as a pony in a flight suit and a helmet pulled on her now trapped leg gently. Blood pooled around her on the wall of the chopper that had been turned on it’s side by the crash, and it leaked through the crack in the door where the leg was stuck to stain into the snow below. She breathed heavily, giving pained noises with every small movement she made. A few moments later, or perhaps it was minutes, there was another noise from the cabin of the vehicle. A white form shifted from the already accumulating snow, and dragged itself to sit up against the wall. The mare looked at him from behind her tinted visor with a sense of dread. Another soul not fortunate enough to be killed by the crash. The figure was completely clothed in white, except the dark tinted goggles over his eyes. His gaze shifted to her, and he pulled down the white scarf he had around his face so he could speak.         “Where is the emergency first aid kit?” He asked calmly, a small stream of blood coming from his left nostril and staining his grey coat.         Her hoof pointed towards the back of the cabin, at least she thought it was the back, to a wall compartment. He nodded, and dragged himself over to it. After a few clicks, he shuffled back towards the mare. Without warning, she felt the helmet be pulled free from her head, and her three toned mane spilled free, the red white and blue easy to see against the monotone colors of the interior.         “What’s your name?” He asked as he poked a syrette of morphine through her uniform. He kept his voice calm as he drew a knife from his belt. She felt her breathing pick up, and her eyes went wide.         “Inky Web…” She said quietly, calming slightly as she felt a slight warm sensation come from the painkiller taking effect. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, feeling quite scared as she heard the tearing of cloth come from below her.         “That’s a nice name. Where are you from Inky?” He asked, removing the scarf from around his neck with a slight grunt. He reached back to the first aid kit and removed some rubbing alcohol from it.         “I’m from Trottingham, at least originally… Left there a few decades ago…” She said, her ears flicking. “What are you doing?” She asked, feeling it unusual he was making conversation in a situation such as this.         “Keeping you calm. I’m trying to get you out of here so we can both go home.” He said, taking his scarf and sliding it gently under her leg. “Your leg is crushed pretty good in the door. So, I’m going to make sure you don’t bleed out. So, what made you join the military Inky?” He asked, pulling the scarf around her leg. He slid a bullet from one of the magazines on his vest between the ends of the fabric, and he began to twist it tighter, making the mare groan in pain. He winced as he heard her pain, and he slowed down the twisting. “Sorry, I’ve only ever had to practice this.” He apologized.         “I joined because I hit a dead end with my family.” She responded as her nerves screamed at her. She sighed in relief as the scarf stopped tightening around her leg, and she heard him tie it off.         “I’m sorry to hear that Inky. I hope the military has helped you out at least.” He said with a sad smile, uncapping the alcohol and pouring it over the blade of his knife.         She nodded, eyes still closed and sighed. “It has brought me a lot, though this isn’t something I’m particularly thankful for.” She said, opening her eyes slowly to look at him bent over her leg with a knife in hoof. “What are you doing?” She asked in worry.         “I’m just getting you out of here. Doing what I have to. Please stay calm…” He trailed off, reaching into a pocket and retrieving a rag. “Put this in your mouth, screaming while out here might attract something that want’s to kill us.” He said, giving the cloth to her. She managed to ball it up and put it in her mouth, and she nodded to him with a slight grunt.         “Alright, this might hurt…” He said quietly, before his knife sliced through her flesh cleanly and easily. He frowned as he looked at the smashed bone, and he lifted the freshly amputated limb away from the trapped portion. The tourniquet stopped her from bleeding more than a few drops as he lifted the leg away. He looked back to the mare, who was sweating, though she hadn’t made a sound. Her eyes were closed tightly, and she looked as though she might scream yet. “It’s all over… It’s all over now, Inky…” He said, pushing up his goggles and looking at her with his soft blue eyes. “I’ll get you out of this place… See if the engines have enough heat to keep you warm enough to decide our next move.” He said, wrapping his hooves around her and lifting her onto his back ever so gently.         She tried to speak, but she had lost all her strength. The rag that was in her mouth fell out, her strength not even enough to keep her jaw shut. She had a dying look to her, but she did feel strangely better without her leg caught and constantly in pain from movement.         The stallion reached a hoof through the shattered window of the door to the helicopter, and he opened it up. It had served as their makeshift roof, and while it had a hole in it, it certainly was helping. When it opened, the wind howled, and snow came down in a torrent upon the stallion. He swiftly closed it, and he looked at the mare he was carrying. “Hey… I’m going to give you my jacket… I should be okay with my vest and shirt, but with the blood you’ve lost, you need the warmth…” He sat her down on one of the interior bulkheads, and he took off his jacket slowly. The biting cold hit him like a brick wall, and he closed his eyes tight. A grim thought hit him, and it made him shake slightly.         ‘Only one of us will survive this… If either of us do…’         He shook aside his own thoughts, and he slowly wrapped the heavy garment around the barely responsive mare. The jacket was still warm, and it helped Inky relax just a little bit as he hefted her back up onto his back.         The door was again slid open, this time he was less worried about the cold as he climbed out into the blizzard winds. The snow stung on his exposed face, and his coat which was now only protected by a mere uniform long sleeve shirt. His skin beneath his coat immediately developed goosebumps and is shivering developed into a near violent shake.         He climbed down with her on his back as gingerly as he could, and he nearly slipped on the smooth steel side of the helicopter before he landed in the snow beside the now mangled tail section of the chopper. Slowly, he walked her to the still burning engines against the whistling winds and the snow. He set her down gently, against the still warm steel beside the burning engine compartments.         The wreckage was a mangled heap of steel now, the tail buried halfway by snow where it had fallen, and the main rotor mangled, with pieces of it scattered about the icy landscape. The glass had shattered at the nose from what he could see in the limited light, leaving little hope for the lives of the pilots. He gave a grim nod, and he looked down at the mare who was breathing evenly and leaning against the warm steel.         “I have to go check the rest of the crew… I’ll be right inside if you need me. Just hit the wall, and I’ll come right out as soon as I can, okay?” He said, sliding his goggles back onto his eyes to keep any more snow out of them. As an afterthought, he took off the white cap he was wearing, and slid it onto her head gently before climbing back onto the wreckage.         “Wait!” She called to him before he slipped back inside. He looked over the edge of the wreckage down at her, and she looked up briefly. “What is your name?”         “First Sergeant Soft Landing… And I’m sorry you had to come and get me… You didn’t deserve any of this.” He said, before he slipped back inside the helicopter to see if there was any other sign of life in the grim scene of the interior of the chopper.