The Friend
“Did you hear that?”
“Do the timberwolves frighten you?” asked the old ranger.
From deeper within the Everfree Forest, another wolf howled at the setting sun. Archie fought back a shiver. “Of course not,” he lied. “Timber is timber.”
“Aye there are worse things to run into in the forest, true enough.” The grey stallion put his freshly filled waterskin back into his saddlebag.
“We’d best get moving,” Centibar said as he raised his own waterskin from the shallow pond. “I’d rather not be around when the next thirsty beast comes for a drink.”
Archie nodded in agreement with his elder brother. The three of them had been walking in a straight line through the woods since noon, following the flight-route the missing mail-mare would have taken to get from Ponyville to Trottingham. It was pleasantly cool and moist in the forest, a significant contrast to the rest of the drought-ridden Equestria.
“There’s a small clearing up ahead,” Woodson said, and began walking. “We’ll make camp for the night there.”
“But the sun isn't even down yet!” Archie protested. “We keep searching.”
The ranger turned his head to scowl back at Archie. “And how do you suppose we are to look for your marefriend in the dark, hmm?”
“It isn't dark yet.” Archie glared back at the ranger through his mismatched green and blue eyes. He knew they made Woodson uncomfortable, as they did for most ponies, but for some reason he found it particularly amusing when the ranger struggled to avoid eye contact. “And for the hundredth time, she’s not my marefriend.”
Woodson snorted that disgusting snort of his again, and turned to keep his eyes ahead. "Marefriend or Co-worker, it makes no bloody difference. This whole search was foolish enough to begin with. How are we supposed to find a Pegasus that got lost over a forest? Follow hoofprints in the clouds?”
“I think he’s right,” Centibar commented before Archie had time to curse at Woodson. “We've been wandering since dawn with nothing to show for it. If we haven’t found her by now…”
“Listen to your brother, kid,” Woodson advised as a small clearing came into view ahead. “If we don’t get a fire going before dusk we’ll have to sleep in the cold. And I for one am in no mood to be freezing my bloody arse off.”
The mail-pony bit his lower lip in anger, “Fine,” he exclaimed, and trotted past the ranger. “If you two would rather sit on your rears while a mare is in distress, so be it! I’ll find her on my own.”
Woodson sighed, looking to Centibar for help.
“Archie,” the elder brother began. “You may have a big heart, but you most definitely have a thick skull. If you go play the hero in the middle of the night without Woodson, who do you imagine will come searching for you when you get lost?”
“I won’t get lost, and I don’t need Woodson. He’s done nothing but complain all day. I’m going to find my friend and I don’t care if I have to battle an Ursa Minor in the process.”
“You’re not gonna go running off on your own,” said the old ranger. “Not even you are that stupid.”
Feeling insulted, Archie frowned back at Woodson. “Watch me!” he proclaimed, and trotted out onto the open patch of land. He squinted at the orange sun as his eyes adjusted to the brightness outside the forest. ‘I’ll show them’ he proudly thought to himself before his hoof hit something in the grass, and sent him tumbling face-first into the ground.
Archie groaned dizzily, and half-expected a roar of laughter to erupt from his brother and the ranger, but the only thing that chuckled was the leaves rustling in the wind. Slowly he opened his eyes, and was met with the empty eye-sockets of a timberwolf staring back at him. Archie felt his heart shoot up into his throat. “W-W-W-WOLF!” he squeaked, and scrambled backwards.
A strong hoof grabbed hold of Archie’s neck and pulled him to his hooves. “Get behind me!” Woodson urged, as he pulled a blade out of its scabbard with his mouth.
Only when his eyes had finished adjusting did Archie notice the pieces of timberwolf scattered across the grass. They were all about to jump up and reassemble into huge, angry, pony-eating timberwolves, he knew. Archie gulped, and slowly stepped backwards.
‘Any moment now …’ Archie counted three lifeless wooden skulls on the ground, along with the countless pieces of limbs and claws. The ranger stood completely still with the hilt of the blade in his mouth, ready to pounce on the first object that moved. They waited, and waited, and then…
Nothing.
“They’re dead,” said Centibar, breaking the silence.
“You think?” Archie was still trembling, “You don’t go shattering into a thousand pieces and not be dead.”
“No, I mean they’re dead, dead,” the elder brother explained, “The pieces aren't getting back together.”
“Timberwolves don’t die.” Woodson's voice was muffled by the hilt in his teeth. “They always rise again, harder and angrier.”
Centibar trotted up, and kicked one of the skulls. “Does it look like they’re getting back up?”
“Hmm…” Reluctantly, the ranger slid his blade back into its scabbard. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my life, but never did I see a dead timberwolf. “He picked up one of the skulls for inspection. “Let alone three.”
“What do you imagine killed them?” Centibar asked no one in particular.
‘Or who’ Archie didn’t feel like pondering that any further. ‘Whatever kills timberwolves I don’t want anything to do with.’
Centibar playfully threw a wooden claw at his brother. “Still feel like wandering out on your own?”
‘I didn’t really intend to in the first place.’ thought Archie. “Of course I do,” he boasted aloud. “And why wouldn’t I? Do you think a few dead timberwolves frightens me? Hah!”
“It’s not the remains you should be concerned about,” Woodson said with a grim voice. “But rather what consumed their very souls.”
Archie felt a chill creep down his spine.
“We should burn them,” Centibar suggested.
“Aye, that we should,” the ranger agreed, and began throwing the timber into a pile. He gestured to Archie. “That claw too, kid. It’s not the sort of souvenir you want to be bringing home.”
The mail-pony held the claw before his green and blue eyes, studying it. ‘Looks awfully sharp.’ “I suppose you two will need my help,” Archie threw the claw into the growing pile of timber.
“So you’re staying?” His brother asked.
“Well, it wouldn’t do for me to leave all this work to you guys, now would it?”
Centibar smiled at him with a face that beamed: ‘I know you all too well, brother.’
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The dancing flames of the campfire painted the surrounding trees a lazy orange as Centibar and Woodson eagerly devoured their carrot-bread, fresh from the fire. Archie was staring down at the white envelope in front of him, sealed with red wax in the shape of a heart.
Two weeks had gone by since he sealed it, but he never managed mustered the courage to post it, or even write her name on it. Archie had dreamt of the moment she learned she was to bring a letter to her own mailbox. Knowing her, she’d likely go ahead and deliver the envelope before opening it. She took her work very seriously; it was one of the many things Archie liked about her. ‘Her eyes too,’ he reflected. Different as they were, they had always that in common.
A rough hoof shook Archie out of his thoughts. “I said: here you go!” Centibar presented half a loaf of carrot-bread to his brother.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ve barely eaten all day.” He shoved the bread into Archie’s hooves. “Eat!”
Archie shook his head in refusal. “It’s not right.”
Centibar sighed. “How many times do I have to explain this? Carrots don’t have feelings, and they don’t care if you eat them.”
“I know,” Archie said with just a hint of irritation. “I’m not a colt anymore.”
“Then what in all of Equestria is the problem with eating when your belly is begging for it? Don’t think for a second that I can’t hear that miserable growling it makes.”
Archie frowned at his stomach. ‘Stupid belly, when have you ever been on my side?’ he thought, and gazed between the trees, deep into the gloomy forest. “It’s just that... she’s out there somewhere, all on her own, and she's probably hungry too. If she can’t have hot carrot-bread then why should I?”
“Oh let him starve if that’s what he wants,” Woodson complained from across the campfire. “More for us.”
Centibar glared at the ranger through the low-burning flames, but turned to look at his brother sympathetically. “Look, if you were the one lost in the forest, and she the one looking for you, would you want her to go hungry?”
Archie considered that for a moment. “No…”he conceded. His brother always did have way with words, and that frightened him. ‘I mustn’t let him break my resolve,’ he decided before allowing himself nibble at the carrot-bread.
Centibar smiled, “Well, I think I hear nature calling; too much water,” and with a chuckle he got to his hooves.
“We’re almost out of timberwolf,” Woodson called. “Be a good lad and bring back some firewood while you’re out there watering the plants.”
Centibar let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll be sure to bring back any timberwolves I come across.” And with that he stepped out into the dark treeline.
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“He sure is taking his sweet time.” Woodson stirred the glowing embers with a stick. “If he doesn’t hurry up with some fresh timber, I won’t be able to sleep. I can’t sleep without a fire burning next to me when it’s this bloody cold.”
Archie shivered at the thought, and huddled next to what little life was left in their campfire.
“You gonna eat that?” the ranger asked, and gestured towards the open saddlebag lying next to Archie.
“Huh? No, it’s not for me,” Archie closed his bag. “Or for you.”
“I get it,” Woodson snorted. “Waste of a good muffin if you ask me.”
Archie stared silently into the burning embers, refusing to bite the ranger’s insult. ‘Nothing given to her could ever be a waste’
After suffering the stillness for a time, the old ranger finally spoke. “Look, I didn’t mean to… offend you.” The last words sounded like half an insult. “It’s just… You wanna bring love letters and muffins to your lost marefriend, that’s sweet and all, but—”
“She’s not my—”
“Friend?” Centibar’s voice broke in.
Archie turned to see his brother standing beside a rotten tree stump, grinning widely. “Yes,” Archie said, “Friend—she’s my friend.”
“Oh just hurry up and bring the tinder already before me and Archie turn into Ice Ponies”
Centibar cocked his head, “Tinder?”
“You didn’t bring any firewood?” Woodson’s nostrils flared, “What in Celestia’s green Equestria were you doing out there for so bloody long?”
Centibar cocked his head in the other direction, staring curiously at the ranger.
“What’s with the grin?” asked Archie.
Centibar slowly fixed his eyes on his brother, all the while wielding a mischievous smile across his face.
A chill crept down Archie’s body. ‘Something’s not right.’
“The lad’s lost his bloody mind,” said Woodson. “Probably ate the wrong kind of mushr—”
The sound of branches cracking escaped from the darkness behind Centibar. The old ranger shot up to all four, his ears high and stiff, listening. “Who’s there?” he called after a brief silence.
“Go… See…” Centibar slurred, and pointed behind him.
“Wait here” The old ranger said, and started towards the source of the sound.
“Are you mad?” Archie protested. “You don’t know what’s out there!”
The ranger paid him no heed, and trotted past Centibar and out into the tree line, his figure melting into the black of night.
Centibar kept his eyes on his younger brother.
“Did you find something?” Archie asked, trying not to sound concerned. “Out there, I mean.”
He slowly nodded before uttering “You.”
Archie gulped. The fur on his neck stood up when he heard distorted shouting from the ranger’s direction. Archie backed a few steps away from Centibar, his heart racing.
From behind Centibar, the figure of a stallion emerged, his facial features shrouded in darkness. But through the forest gloom two blue eyes opened, shining blue like frozen stars. Archie felt his legs root themselves to the ground in terror.
When the figure stepped out next to Centibar, its eyes dimmed in the lazy light of the campfire, and the familiar features of the old ranger became visible.
“W-Woodson…?” Archie exclaimed, though his voice was little more than a broken whisper.
The ranger turned to Centibar. “Friend?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
“Friend.” Centibar confirmed.
Woodson then looked to Archie. “Friend?”
Centibar shook his head. “No.”
A smile crept across the ranger's lips as he stared into Archie's eyes.
“No…” Archie tried to shout when the two of them started towards him, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “Stay… stay away from me!” But despite Archie’s protests, his brother and the ranger crept closer. He felt his legs twitch under him, and finally they moved.
He galloped out of the clearing as fast as his trembling legs could carry him. The trees around him grew darker the further he fled from the campfire. Dead branches slashed at his face like blunt knives as he ran though the dense forest. One of his hooves struck a root, and his entire body crashed into the ground. “Oof!” He cried as the air was knocked out of his lungs.
Archie spit out a mouthful of dirt, and struggled back to his hooves. He winced in pain when he put pressure on his right foreleg. Desperately looking around he spotted another clearing past some dead trees, no more than a few strides away. Archie raised his ears, trying to tell if he was being pursued.
Silence.
Balancing on his remaining uninjured legs, he limped towards the second clearing.
Tall, dead grass danced in the moonlight across the small patch of land, which turned out to be little more than a single soft-rolling hill.
Archie had no time to enjoy the scenery. He struggled up the hill as fast as he could. It was easier to traverse where the moonlight could show what was ahead of him, and the lack of cruel branches, roots, and rocks made his climb all the smoother.
But by the time he had staggered to the top of the hill he was on the edge of collapsing from exhaustion. ‘What am I even running from?’ He thought to himself as he gasped for air, ‘What if they…’ Archie felt his stomach twist in fury at the thought. ‘What if they were just playing some stupid prank on me?’
Archie turned to look back.
“Hello.”
“GAAHH!” Archie screamed in surprise, jumped backwards, and landed on his rump.
In front of him stood a silvery mare, peering at him through golden eyes.
“He-hello…” Archie rubbed his eyes in disbelief. ‘Grey, not silver, her coat is grey!’
The mail-mare smiled warmly at him, her yellow mane flowing in the wind.
“But you…” Archie stammered at his lost friend, “Where… how?”
The wall-eyed Pegasus cocked her head innocently, “Friend?”
“F-friend?” The Earth Pony echoed.
She studied him for a moment, and then shook her head, her warm and cheerful face turning sad and disappointed.
“Wait, of course I’m your friend! It’s me; Archie, don’t you remember? We work together in Ponyville. I even…” Archie felt his heart skip a beat.
The Pegasus’ fur and skin began flaking off, falling to the ground like tiny pieces of paper. A thick, ebony liquid streamed from her eyes like tears, and turned to smoke when it hit the ground. Her eyes changed color, from yellow to black to a shimmering blue. The black smoke coiled around her legs like snakes, climbing up her body to cover it in a smoky blanket that clung tightly to her form, molding it into something not pony.
Archie lost his breath, and protectively covered his eyes and muzzle with his hooves. He closed shut his eyes, and felt his fur wetting. The frightened Earth Pony quivered uncontrollably, but slowly managed to lower his hooves enough to peek at what was in front of him. When Archie saw his own face and mismatched eyes gazing back at him, he screamed.