Purpose.

Is that not what we strive for? Meaning. Identity. A sense of use.

It is a commonly accepted fact that an individual, when posed with an extremely stressful situation, is much more likely to panic and behave irrationally when they have absolutely no idea of what they should be doing. They need a purpose. A person who has a plan, or at least some concept of what they could do in said situation, will generally not end up freaking out, and, nine times out of ten, not fuck things up even more so then they already are.

Hopefully, I thought, this is not that tenth time.

The thick, damp undergrowth of the jungle whizzed by me at a pace I was unfamiliar with. Plants I had no names for flickered by on the fringes of my vision, which remained resolutely forward. The ground, soft and spongy with decaying leaves, was torn up in the places my paws landed.

On all fours, I found that my maneuverability was greatly enhanced. And so, I found myself streaking along at a rate that was somewhat frightening. An obstacle would appear in my path, a tree or a bush perhaps, and before I was even conscious of my motions, I would somehow dart around it, without even bothering a second glance, for the burden wrapped tightly against my chest was not worth the distraction.

I was a machine. By all rights, I should have been panicking. I should have been huddled in a corner hugging a teddy bear, slowly rocking back and forth. I should have been a blubbering, useless, wreck of a being. But I wasn't. I was a machine.

Machines do not have time to feel. They simply do what they are told, and they do it to the best of their ability. I had but one goal above all others at this moment.

Get Daring Do to safety.

After that? Well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

The run was taking its toll on both of us. Still somewhat unused to my body, I had sustained several scrapes and bruises from not reacting fast enough. Even with my new instinctual reflexes, I was not immune to the lashing branches, the grabbing roots, or the solidity of a tree-trunk. Daring, though still safe, was fading faster than I'd anticipated.

I let out an irritated grunt as I leaped clear over a gully, scrabbling at the loamy dirt for a precious few seconds before I regained my rhythm. The rush of wind in my sensitive ears had long since ceased to be registered. I crested a slow rise, and smoothly switched to three legs as I checked the compass now dangling around my neck. North-north-east.

The needle swung back to the correct heading as I adjusted course accordingly. I passed through a particularly dense thicket of brambles, and wrapped an arm around my chest, protecting my cargo, as I ripped though the growth, opening up another score of small, irritating wounds that only served to spur me onward.

I dashed onward, going straight through a rotting tree, its soft bark offering little resistance as a single slash of my claws bisected it like an executioner's axe.

I suddenly found myself out of the murk of the undergrowth, running across open ground. The land had been cleared away, and thick stumps were all that remained of the rain-forest. I grinned, despite the damage to the land. There, on the horizon, was a large object, silhouetted by the moon, that could only be my goal.

Wethoof Village.

Now that I was out of the forest, I really opened up on the gas, and promptly began sprinting the home stretch. I risked a glance around. The ground was wet and boggy, littered with shallow pools of water, and seemed to be strangely marked, as if something big had been dragged across it recently in a heedless path. What could have done that?

Suddenly, I found myself slide to a halt. There was nowhere left to go. I was here... but there was a problem. I'd found out where all the trees had gone.

The village had a wall.

Encircling what seemed to be the entire settlement, and made up of the newly-cut trunks of the rainforest giants, stretching several stories tall. One alone was as wide as my armspan, which I estimated to be between seven and eight feet. I could not see over it.

I snorted in frustration. There has to be some way to get in and out. But where? I ran around the wall, hugging the edge as tightly as I could to reduce the distance. The trees making up the surface suddenly changed, from newly cut to much older. I noticed large markings in this wood, but paid it no heed.

There! A towering, double-doorway, made of what looked to be entire slabs of wood, with enormous chunks of bark overlaying this as a sort of protective reinforcement. A guard tower loomed over the side of the wall, and I could make out the slumped shape of what was obviously a pony asleep at their post.

I remembered my first encounter with Daring. It hadn't been the smoothest of introductions, and she'd really only warmed up to me until after I'd fought off Ahuizotl's cats. This would be my first contact with any other pony. Perhaps I should take a different approach?

I glanced down at the wounded pegasus, still unconscious in her cocoon. A light blotch of red was beginning to seep through the wrapping. My mind was made up.

FORMALITIES BE DAMNED!

I sank my paw into the ground and tore out a chunk of dirt about the size of a volleyball. I cocked my arm back and let it fly at the slumped shape in the guardtower. It made a terrific thwack as it splattered into the tower not a foot from their head. The guard suddenly jerked about, startled from its rest and now covered in a fine coating of muck. The pony rushed to the side, wiping gunk off its face with a foreleg. I squinted in vain to make out its face, but the tower roof cast too thick of a shadow.

"Hey! Who goes there?" a feminine voice cried, vainly attempting to sound threatening.

I extended my claws and waved my arms wildly to get her attention, the soft purple glow of the contrails leaving an eerie tint to the air.

She couldn't help but see the sudden light show on the doorstep. "What in Celestia's mane? You there! Dog! What's that you're doing with your claws?" she shouted down at me.

"I need to enter the town. I have a wounded mare with me that needs medical help." I wrote in large characters, somewhat sloppily written due to my impatience.

"You can write?!"

"Oh, you got me. I'm just making random squiggly lines in the air. But if you want, I can draw a nice picture of you being sent to the moon."

"What, can't you speak? Cat got your tongue?""

Ha-ha. No, smartass. My tongue is fine, and it was actually a big, blue... monkey-shark-cat... thing. Whatever. "I lost my voice. I use my claws to speak for me, now. Now let me in! I need help! My friend is hurt!"

"No Diamond Dogs allowed in Wethoof."

What? All right, now this is getting ridiculous. "At least open the gate so my friend can get in!"

"Oh, and I'm sure you'll just stay there while the gate's wide open, eh?"

"Why would I do anything else?"

She snorted at me. "Because you're a flea-bitten Diamond Dog, that's why."

"I find your lack of faith disturbing." Even more disturbing was the fact that this was coming from a pony. I thought these guys were supposed to be all happy and friendly? No matter. I have to get help to Daring. "Look, why don't I leave her at the gate, and then I'll go far enough away so that there's no way I can enter in time?"

"And probably the second I open it, some more Dogs will pop out of the ground, not ten feet away from the gate! Piss off, mutt! I'm not buying your charade!" she sneered.

She thought I was lying? About something as serious as this? Great. More prejudice against Diamond Dogs. I so did not have time for this. I adopted an aggressive stance, and silently bared my teeth up at the guardsmare.

"We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. Preferably the hard way, because it will take so much less time."

"Oh yeah? What's the easy way?"

"I try to convince you to open the gates."

"Hah! Fat chance of that happening, fleabag! What's the hard way?"

Two heavily compacted balls of muck sped up into the night, slamming into her shadowed features with frightening intensity. The guard collapsed back into the tower, knocked willy-nilly by the twin impacts.

I probably should have been a little more diplomatic, but desperate times call for unnecessary violence.

I wiped the dirt from my paws, grinning despite the dire situation. I slid my glowing claws against eachother, and to my surprise, bright sparks of purple-pink energy flickered off them.

Whoa. Now this changes things up a little. I could have some fun here.

I began rubbing my claws together as fast as I could, and the sparks began streaming off into the ground. The claws themselves began to shine brighter and brighter, until the intensity was almost blinding to my dark-adjusted eyes. After another few seconds of rubbing, my claws began to feel hot. It was as if someone had lit a match to your fingernail. The heat began to build, until one of the sparks suddenly caught into the motions and ignited.

My claws suddenly erupted into a withering fire, the softly glowing lengths now replaced by angry, flickering streaks of violet flame.

Awwwwwwwwwww yeeeaaaaaaaah!

I cracked my neck a few times, and charged the door. My arms whipped out, and the fiery claws burrowed into a chunk of bark reinforcement with ease. Smoke began seeping from around my claws, and the wood surrounding them started to blacken. I clenched my fists, and wrenched backwards with all my strength.

The charred slab of bark ripped off the gate with ease. I tossed it to the ground, where it slammed into the muck with a loud squelch, and tore into the underlying wood, hacking away with powerful slashes of my paws. Wood splintered everywhere as I windmilled into the gate, my claws all but shining streaks of light in the darkness. I tore and punched and slashed with the ferocity of desperation. Nothing was going to keep me from getting my friend to safety. Over the din of my destruction, I began to hear shouting, but put it out of my mind. Almost through now...

My paw gave the gate another powerful blow, and I could see through it now to the other side. I redoubled my efforts, and charred wood chips filled the air as I became a Diamond Dog version of a chainsaw. And then, I was though. I sheathed my claws, wincing with the pain of the magical fire being extinguished inside my fingers, and shouldered through the jagged gap in the gate I had carved.

"HALT!"

I screeched to a stop, suddenly aware of my surroundings again. Encircling me with my back to the gate was a ring of ponies, a mix of fear and anger on their faces. They were armed to the teeth - literally. Several held torches either in the crux of an elbow or in their teeth. One, a deep red mare, was actually holding a pitchfork in her mouth. A pitchfork!

The pony that had addressed me shouldered through the crowd. He was a unicorn, and seemed to be a little on the old side, but held himself with the air of somepony that is used to being listened to. He was a dark gold color, and had a mane that was of a pale, icy blue, streaked with gray. The mark on his flank showed the image of a metal shield emblazoned with a red cross.

He approached me and held his ground a few steps away, calmly sizing me up with steely eyes, both of color and expression. He noticed Daring Do, still wrapped around my chest, and his ears flicked backward in surprise. He whirled around and faced the crowd.

"Ginger!" he barked in a gruff, yet soft voice. "What is the meaning of this?"

A cinnamon-colored unicorn mare stepped forward, head held high in defiance. She was covered in muck, an sported a black eye. Ah, this must be that guard...

"No Diamond Dogs allowed in Wethoof. You heard the mayor," she stated angrily, in the same voice that I'd heard from the guard tower. She must have alerted the rest of the village while I was occupied with the gate.

"You said he was alone, and that he posed some kind of danger," the stallion retorted. "You were wrong on both accounts, Ginger. Surely this counts as an exception. Look at that mare! She's bleeding out as we speak!" He turned to me. "Dog, release her. You obviously don't intend to harm us if you're willing to save a wounded pegasus."

I gingerly undid the knot holding Daring to my chest, gently laying her on the ground in front of the stallion. I backed away a few steps, nervously eyeing the crowd, who were still glaring at me.

Ginger looked outraged. "This is against the law! We have these rules for a reason, and you're openly defying them!"

"Not without merit! You lied through your teeth about the injured mare, simply to prevent the Dog from entering! You deliberately denied him entry, even at the cost of a life! There's a fine line between following orders and losing what makes you a pony, and tonight, Ginger, you have crossed it."

She was rebuffed by this, her confidence suddenly wilting. "But-but-but... I... He said..."

The stallion rounded on her with incredible fury. "I DO NOT CARE WHAT HE SAID, GINGER SNAP! THERE IS A PONY'S LIFE AT STAKE HERE! IF YOU SO MUCH AS THINK ABOUT INTERFERING WITH THIS A SECOND TIME, I WILL HAVE YOU TIED TO THE WALL!" Ginger Snap backed away with every syllable, visibly wincing on that last threat. "Now, two ponies take the wounded mare to the infirmary."

Two more mares from the crowd quickly rushed forward, nervously approaching me before lifting up Daring Do onto their shoulders. They set out at a rapid pace, and the crowd parted for them quickly, before closing again like a bear trap, preventing me from seeing where they went.

"Now..." The stallion turned his gaze back to me again. "As for you. Who are you, and how did you come across that mare?"

I slowly held my paws up, and deliberately extended each of my claws with utmost care. The crowd flinched back in surprise, including the stallion, as they began to glow again, thankfully not on fire anymore. I mentally sighed. If this was how everyone was going to react every time I came to a new place, then it could get old rather quickly.

"My name is Echo. The pegasus I brought here for help is Daring Do, the explorer. I have been staying with her in her treehouse for the past few weeks, as her guest."

There was an audible gasp as the ponies assembled beheld the words I carved into the air. The stallion took a step forward, although it was not in a threatening manner. He seemed to be taking my unique method of communication in stride, at least. "How is it that you came to know her, Echo?"

"I saved her life." I drew one claw across my neck, indicating the gleaming white scar on my throat. "And in return, she saved mine. In the process, however, I lost my voice."

"And why is it that she is in her current condition?"

"No. She was injured during our attempt at exploring a recently opened ruin."

He looked genuinely surprised at this. "Daring Do working together with a Diamond Dog. Huh. And why is it that you can read and write in such a manner?"

"She taught me. As for the whole 'glowing claws' thing, that's none of your business."

The stallion gave me a queer look, then. "You are a most unusual member of your species, Echo. Tell me, are you from around here?"

I grinned and shook my head. There was no way he'd believe the truth, so I'd just play the role of the ignorant foreigner.

"Then you do not realize the significance of your actions here tonight." He suddenly looked grave. "While your intentions may have been noble, you have caused much harm to this village."

What did he mean by that? "I do not understand."

"Turn around, and see for yourself."

I did. Before me, the massive gate loomed. However, now it sported a particularly nasty gaping hole at the bottom. It was if someone had fired a giant cannon straight into the gate, the round had simply vaporized it's way clear through. Smoke and wreckage alike came from the improvised entryway. A couple ponies were frantically pouring buckets of water into it, and behind me, I heard the rumble and clatter of an approaching wagon. I turned around to see a large wagon pulled by a strong looking draft pony, filled to the brim with lumber and carpentry tools. It moved through the crowd and past us, before coming to a halt in front of the damage. Quick as a wink, a group of ponies hopped out the back and began unloading the equipment.

Eh-heh-heh... did I do that? Whoops... my bad!

Wait a tic. Why are these guys so keen on their gate?

I looked back at the golden stallion, who was regarding me with an indescribable expression. "This wall. Why do you have it? Such a thing only serves two purposes. To keep something in, or-"

"-To keep something out," he interrupted somberly.

Wonderful. There was obviously something worth worrying about that was posing a threat to their village. I gave the walls another glance. Apparently, it was something dangerous enough to merit the construction of a massive wall made out of irreplaceable trees, damaging the landscape in the process.

And I'd torn a hole right through it.

The ponies still circling us eyed me warily, as if I'd suddenly go crazy and decide to maul them. Only the old unicorn seemed to be somewhat at ease around me, and I suspected this was because he was somehow unbiased towards my kind.

"Citizens. Please, return to your homes. The Diamond Dog will do you no harm under my watch. Somepony contact the mayor and tell him what has transpired here tonight. If he raises word about it, I want to hear why." The unicorn addressed the crowd with calm and ease. They responded immediately, but still cast wary glances over there shoulders as they left, traveling off to a dense cluster of buildings a few hundred feet away. "Blueback and Popper. Come with us." Two burly pegasi peeled off from the crowd and stood at attention. The stallion turned to me again. "You as well."

The two pegasi exchanged a glance, then moved up to either side of me. I could not help but feel as though they were intended to ensure that I'd not try anything.

The golden unicorn proceeded to stride through the charred hole in the gate, and I followed closely behind. Once again, I found myself facing the mighty fortifications from the outside, tinged silver in the moonlight. My escorts grimly maintained position on either side of me, and I noticed that their wings were trembling a little. Were they really afraid of me?

The smoking wound in their entryway was probably evidence enough. After seeing the destruction I was capable of, even I was beginning to regard myself cautiously. It didn't help that I was still unfamiliar with my body.

It felt strange to be standing in open ground after so long in the forest. The surrounding landscape was barren, and now that I had the chance to look at it, the scattered tree-trunks dotting the land in between the shallow, muddy puddles looked rather freshly cut.

"This village has existed for generations, living in harmony with the surrounding rainforest and it's inhabitants," began the stallion. "That is, until recently. A few weeks ago, the local predators began to act strangely. Violent. Aggressive. Territorial. Ponies began to be attacked and dragged into the forest. We couldn't fight them off, so we did the next best thing. We built a wall.

"It's a marvel, really. When I came here to address the problem, I didn't think that this town of swamp-dwelling bumpkins had it in them to build something so impressive in such a short span of time. We cleared out all the trees in the area to do it, something I'm admittedly rather not proud of. But in having to choose between the life of a pony and the life of a tree, the choice is clear. The forest will grow back in time, we will ensure that, but ponies aren't as lucky. And so, you find Wethoof as a twisted reflection of what it once was. Instead of welcoming nature to our doorstep, we fear it and cower behind a wall made of the dead hulks of the very things that make this area great." The stallion dug a thin line in the ground with a forehoof.

I crouched down beside him, silent as always. At this level, we now literally saw eye to eye. He was obviously highly respected, and seemed to be unlike any of the other ponies I had seen. The others listened to him, even going so far as to disobey the laws that this town's mayor had set in place. Perhaps he held some kind of military rank?

"What is your role in all of this, sir?" I scrawled. Worth a shot into the dark, I suppose.

He eyed the floating characters with interest. "My name is Captain Tythus." Ah, so my assumptions were correct. "I was a former member of Princess Celestia's Royal Guard, and served under General Greywing for twenty-five years as a medic as well as a commanding officer for my squadron. I retired some time after the Nightmare Moon fiasco, but was soon reactivated and sent by the Princess herself to assist Wethoof Village with it's current, ah, predicament."

Wow. This guy had met the Princess! I could learn a lot from him... and to top it, he was ex-Royal Guard. I assumed they were the elite of Equestria's military, although I knew little of it to go by. That explained why this guy held himself like that. His entire being radiated a calm, 'seen it all before' demeanor I had observed from many others during the few years I had served in the army. Here was a pony who knew how to get things done. But still...

"Why would the Princess send a retired officer all the way out here? It looks like your predator problem is quite serious, if the construction of that wall was needed." I scratched my chin thoughtfully.

Captain Tythus was again dumbstruck. "Your perception is somewhat alarming, Echo. Diamond Dogs are not known for their intelligence."

I gave him a loopy grin. "Neither am I."

"Quite. I am the single representative from the Crown here because all active-duty troops are currently occupied with the resurgence of Discord. The last report I received from Canterlot said that he had transformed Ponyville into a warped nexus of chaotic energy, and that was at least a week ago."

Hmmm... If that happened a week ago, then Discord was most definitely defeated by now. Guess I was as good as stranded, then. Might as well make the best of it.

"Do not worry too much about Discord, Captain. Focus on here and now. Speaking of which, can you tell me about these predators of yours? I intend on staying in the town or at least in the vicinity until my friend has recovered. It would be nice to know if something's going to try and eat me." I stood up and adjusted my hood, eyeing the bleak landscape warily.

"Oh, yes. You'll know everything about our problem, Echo. You're going be helping us with it." Tythus began to slowly trot off to the left, his hooves making soft squelching noises in the muck.

Wait... what?

I caught up with him in three strides, my two feathered shadows rushing to maintain their positions by my side. "Whoa whoa whoa! Who ever said anything about that?"

"You did," he calmly stated, "when you tore a hole through my gate. The town is now at risk, and you are the only one at fault for this."

"What? But the guardsmare wouldn't let me pass! I had to get in somehow or Daring would have bled out on your doorstep!"

"Regardless of Ginger Snap's actions, or Miss Do's status, neither of them were the ones who decided to destroy the only line of defense keeping my ponies from harm. You, Echo, are to blame for this. Nopony else."

I made no reply, instead electing to fall into a brooding silence. We walked around the wall for a time, the three ponies now maintaining an uneasy triangle around me, the two pegasi in to my rear, and Captain Tythus to my front. After a time, he came to a halt, and I almost walked into his flanks.

"This is what we face," he said simply, and faced the wall. Blueback and Popper did as well, their feathers abruptly bristling in what I assumed was the pegasi equivalent of raised hackles.

Puzzled, I turned to see what he referred to. During my initial run to the town, I had whipped around the wall, barely baying it any attention. In hindsight, it probably would have benefited me greatly to have done so. The reason for Wethoof's barricading was carved into the massive wall in such a way that it drew my disbelieving eyes more so than an advertisement in Times Square.

The massive trunks had been savaged here, jaggedly crisscrossed with heavy, deep lines in rows of three. In some places, entire sections of a trunk were simply gone, great, gaping wounds that suspiciously looked like bite marks indicating that pieces had simply been ripped off of the wall.

I slowly approached the monolithic wall, and gingerly laid a paw into one of the smaller grooves. It was far wider than my paw, and went several feet into the tree. I involuntarily shuddered. Whatever had done this was incredibly large, and incredibly dangerous. It made the hole I had bored into the gate look like a bullet wound, while this... this was like strapping a grenade to something and pulling the pin. This was terrifying.

I was completely stunned. Had I a voice, I would have been incapable of using it. Instead, I turned back to the Catain and shakily scrawled out my words into the air, my paws trembling.

"What did this?"

The answer was as grim as the destruction behind me.

"Hydras."

"Oh. Wonderful. If you'll excuse me for one moment."

I slowly turned and proceeded to slam my head into the wall. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Why couldn't I have thought things through? Why couldn't I have just stopped and said to myself, 'hey, maybe these guys need this wall for something!' Maybe by ripping a giant hole through it, you might have possibly screwed them all over! And he said 'hydras!' That implies that there's MORE THAN ONE! I felt sick, nauseous with the knowledge that I'd possibly doomed an entire village.

A pair of hooves on my shoulders wrenched me back from my self-abuse. I tottered back a few steps before spinning and regaining my balance. I found Captain Tythus looking at me with an amused expression on his face.

"Done yet?"

I sniffled and buried my face in my paws. "Maybe one more?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Come on, then. It's no use sobbing over soggy hay. We'll take you to your quarters for the time being. Tomorrow, your service begins."

As we trudged through the mud back to the gate, I hung my head in shame. My tail was drooped even lower, scraping the ground.

At least Daring is going to be all right. That much I accomplished tonight. But despite my terrible mistake, I couldn't help but feel a little reassured by the Captain's words. I was going to be doing something now, something to help these ponies. Even if I had made a terrible first impression, there was still the possibility of turning that around. I had a meaning.

I had a purpose.