Wanderer wasn’t sure what bothered him more—the fact that he and his friends had been captured by a band of fierce deer, or the fact that Tourmaline ignored him every time he tried talking to her. He glanced behind him but saw that she was watching her brother as they both carried the injured unicorn on the makeshift stretcher. While Tormod hadn’t woken up yet, he squirmed and moaned as they carried him.

As Tormod gave a whimper, Wanderer clenched his teeth. If they didn’t get him treated soon, it could get bad, real bad. The disease might be coursing through his friend’s body now, doing Celestia knows what. He glanced at Tourmaline and saw tears at the corners of her eyes as she bit her lip.

Trixie, who walked next to him as she shot wide-eyed glances at the deer, spoke up. “Wanderer, is there anything Trixie can do to help?”

He glanced at the deer as they led them through the fog-enshrouded woods. “In my saddlebag, there’s a cloth. Use it to wipe the sweat from his face. Also, try to get him to drink.”

While a few bristled at her use of magic, the deer allowed her to collect the cloth from Wanderer’s saddlebag. She patted the cloth over Tormod’s feverish face, the cloth moistening from the sweat.

One doe watched her for a moment, her dark-brown eyes shifting from Trixie to Tormod. She then said something in their odd language, and the procession came to a halt. It took all of Wanderer’s strength to not topple the stretcher at the sudden stop. The doe turned and motioned for them to lower the stretcher. After sharing a worried look, they did as told—Tormod gasped as his weight settled on the uneven ground.

The stubs on the doe’s head glowed, and a ceramic jar lifted from her satchel. She removed a gunk of foul smelling stuff from within.

Tourmaline started, her eyes widening. “Wait. What’re you doing? Don’t you put anything on him!” She gasped and held still as a few claw weapons aimed her way.

The doe ignored her and applied the gunk over Tormod’s wound. The unicorn hissed and squirmed under the touch.

"You’re hurting him!” Tourmaline yelled despite a shout from one of the warriors.

“Tourmaline, please calm down,” Wanderer said. “You’re making things worse.”

Her lips pulled back in a snarl as her gaze snapped to him. “I don’t need to hear it from you.”

While Wanderer bristled, Trixie spoke. “Trixie thinks she is trying to help. It might be medicine.”

Tourmaline ignored her and watched as the doe finished applying the gunk. While Tormod didn’t wake, his squirming and moaning lessened.

Nodding to herself, the doe stood and spoke. “Tac’b ni.”

The procession started up again, and Wanderer took the time to study their captors in more depth—anything to get his mind off of Tourmaline. The deer were made of a stouter stock than the meek herbivores that sometimes became pets in Equestria

These deer stood as tall as a pony and each were lean and fit. Brown fur covered their backs and flanks, though their underbellies and tails were white. They didn’t sport cutie marks either. Where the bucks had many-tined antlers, the does had small stubs. He knew they could use magic and were fairly strong, and if how they had been captured was any indication, they were just as capable of walking on two legs as on four. As he studied them, Wanderer couldn’t help but wonder what else they were capable of.

When his gaze fell on their weapons, he had a pretty good idea what they were capable of. While the claw weapons were the most common, he saw a few spears being carried as well. The claw weapons looked to be made of a large timberwolf claw strapped to the fetlocks much like a metal hoof blade he had seen in Equestria.

One of the lead bucks stopped to look back, narrowing his eyes at the ponies before speaking to the medic doe. “Fa uza naccewn ktiba.”

She nodded and looked at the others. “Kidaz cqaez mukab.”

The deer removed some twine and attempted to wrap them around the ponies’ muzzles.

Wanderer shook his head, keeping the buck from tying the rope. “You’re not putting a lead around me!”

The other two struggled as well, Trixie slapping away the rope. “Trixie will not be led around like some mule!”

Their struggling came to an end as the blades were brought to bear.

Wanderer looked down the blade that was under his chin, his irises having shrunk to pinpoints. “I… guess we will,” he muttered before the rope was tied around his muzzle—gritting his teeth as it was tied tighter than necessary. To make matters worse, they wrapped a cloth around his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to shake it loose, it didn’t move.

“This is so degrading,” Trixie said miserably.

Wanderer felt a tug on his lead, and he grudgingly followed. He growled to himself and swore he would buck the deer leading him the first chance he got. Judging from the strangled sounds behind him, he knew Tourmaline felt the same.

He wasn’t sure how long they walked. With his eyes covered, it was hard to determine much of anything. The deer paused long enough to force water down their throats before leading them on again.

Wanderer’s ears flicked as he heard something other than hoofsteps and wind.

“Wanderer?” His ears turned back as Tourmaline spoke. “Do you hear that?”“I do. It sounds like there are a lot of them.” He took in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “I can smell campfires too.”

“A-Are they taking us to their village?” Trixie asked in a quavering voice.

“We’ll be fine, Trixie. Just keep calm and—” he hissed as something sharp prodded his side.

“Awionq cuts. Saap videwn, piwi,” the harsh voice of a buck said.

He quieted down and swore once again on his earlier promise.

The deer voices grew closer until Wanderer heard a near collective gasp. There was a brief silence before the voices started up again. While he couldn’t begin to make out what was being said, many of what he heard might have been demands or questions. He winced as many of the voices sounded more outraged than curious.With the voices came different smells. Other than the strong musk of the deer, he could smell fires and cooking food, the latter aroma causing his belly to grumble. There were also other smells that he didn't recognize.

Finally, he was brought to a stop and the stretcher lifted off his back.

“My brother! What are you doing to him?!” he heard Tourmaline shout in a panic.

“Kutv lifw, ptauba,” the medic said. The blindfold lifted off of his eyes, and he was treated to a sight he’d never thought to see.

It wasn’t the multitude of deerfolk nor the strange conical tents that served as their homes nor the large firepit that sat in the middle of the village that stole his gaze. No, it was the gargantuan tree that towered over them all. Wanderer and his friends stood at the base of the great Mother Oak Tree, her leafy branches towering well above them and casting a shadow over the entire village. He leaned his head back as far as he could and still the tree top still wasn’t visible. The tree’s trunk was easily over a mile wide, and its countless branches were covered by mist and clouds that seemed to originate from the tree itself.

“The Mother Oak,” he breathed, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“It’s… huge…” Tourmaline said, similar awe in her voice.

“Trixie can’t believe it…”

Someone cleared their throat, and the three tore their gazes from the tree to find themselves surrounded by deer. A few of them regarded the ponies with curiosity, but the majority of them eyed them with open hostility. The warriors gripped their weapons tightly as the ponies took stock of their situation.

Wanderer’s eyes scanned the crowd and he knew that the thought of escape was completely pointless. A nervous chuckle escaped him before he spoke. “Eh, hi there.”

Tourmaline facehooved and glared at him. “Seriously? That’s what you went with?”

He glowered at her, his ears laying flat. “Give me a break will you? They don’t seem to understand us anyway.”

She sighed but her eyes widened as looked at the stretcher that held Tormod. Quickly rushing to his side, she checked to make sure he was okay.

Wanderer sighed, looking his friend over for a moment before turning back to the deer that watched them closely. “Please, we don’t want any trouble. We just want to get our friend help and go home. We don’t want to fight.”

The deer shifted uncomfortably and spoke among themselves.

Tourmaline looked up from her brother. “Do any of you understand Equestrian? Please, we need help.”

“I’m not sure this is getting us anywhere…” Wanderer said as he adjusted his hat and watched the deer.

“Then what do you suppose we do?” Tourmaline all but snapped at him. “Tell them a few of your jokes? No, wait, that might get us killed faster.”

He turned an unappreciative glare her way before Trixie spoke up again. “Trixie thinks we should say the saying again. It saved us before.”

Wanderer shrugged after a moment. “It’s all we have really. We could try—”

He stopped as all the deer suddenly looked down a lane from the central campfire. The deer parted and bowed their head in respect as a larger buck walked towards them. Flanked by the medic doe, this larger buck stood far taller than those around him. He appeared as an elderly deer, but the way he walked—his head held high and a confident stride—Wanderer knew that age hadn’t slowed him down. The antlers that adorned his head seemed more a sign of authority than natural weapons. His storm-gray eyes shone with the wisdom of one who had seen many winters.

When the buck looked down at them, a curious glint in his eyes, Wanderer’s knees shaked.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Trixie asked, panic edging its way into her voice.

Wanderer gulped but stood firm. “Just stay calm and we’ll see what he wants.”

Tourmaline stood protectively over Tormod, her eyes harsh as she glared at the buck. “What do you want with us?”

The deer bristled at her tone, but when the buck glanced at them, they quieted down.

“Muecqot, cqaba uza cqa piweab fqi bpisa ioz tuwnouna?” The buck turned his gaze to the medic.

She dipped her head in a nod. “Iab, Atlaz. Fqaw cqai bpisa ci ob, fa lel wic swif fquc ci li fecq ceqv. Fa jzionqc cqav ci iio ci baas iioz noeluwka.”

He nodded, a pensive frown growing across his muzzle. “E baa. Ec fub fatt iio lel.”

Wanderer stood by Tourmaline, sharing an uncertain glance. “We don’t understand you.”

“There is no surprise in that, earth-tamer,” the buck said in slightly accented Equestrian. “You are perhaps the first ponies to speak our tongue in centuries.”

Wanderer was sure his jaw had hit the ground. In the moment it took to clear his shock, Tourmaline beat him to the punch in speaking. “Th-They can talk?”

The buck tilted his head slightly at her. “Did you expect us not to? We are not savages as you are led to believe.”

“But-But we don’t—”

The buck held up a hoof to stall her forthcoming protest. “First, I would hear what it was you said to my granddaughter. She has said you spoke our language. I would hear it with my own ears.”

Wanderer blinked. “We did?”

“E uv u kqetl im cqa mizabc,” Trixie piped up over the stammering Wanderer.

Both adventurers turned a surprised look her way, and she looked back at them. “The saying, Wanderer, repeat the saying the tree told us.”He smacked his forehead. “Oh, right.” He took in a breath and repeated the saying.

After Tourmaline did as well, the buck regarded them with open curiosity. “Amazing, I did not think ponies knew our language, much less knew we existed. Where was it you learned our tongue?”

Wanderer shot a shared glance with Tourmaline. “It’s the only saying we know. The forest guardian taught us it. We were supposed to repeat it to somepony he called the ‘mother’s children.’”

Storm-gray eyes widened. “A guardian of the woods told you this? It spoke to you?”

They nodded. “We don’t have any reason to lie,” Tourmaline said.

“I never said you did, sky-rider.” His frown deepened. “Bevpti ubciwebqewn,” he uttered to himself.

“Atlaz?” the medic asked with a concerned tilt of her head.

“Ja uc auba, nuwlluonqcaz. Cqaba piweab uza czoti kqetlzaw im cqa mizabc.”

At that, the deer started murmuring among themselves in tones of surprise and disbelief.

Trixie nervously bumped against Wanderer. “Please tell Trixie this is a good thing.”

“I really hope so, Trixie. I really hope so,” he said as he watched the deer for any sudden movements.

The three turned as one as Tormod grunted, his eyes fluttered open.

“Tormod!” Tourmaline was by his side in an instant. “How’re you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” he croaked before coughing.

Wanderer quickly gathered his canteen and offered it to her. She took it with a faint nod and helped her brother drink. She pulled it back as he sputtered and coughed.

“Slow down,” she chided. “Don’t try to drink so fast.”

After Tormod drank what he could, Wanderer patted him gently. “You had us worried there.”

Tormod grunted, his gaze still unfocused. “Is Trixie… all right? Is she hurt?”

Trixie stood next to Tourmaline who scooted over grudgingly. “Trixie is fine. You saved her from that manticore.” She rested a hoof on his. “She thanks you.”

He let out a relieved sigh. “I’m glad.” His eyes drifted past them to the deerfolk who watched the exchange. “That’s… a lot of deer.” His eyes fluttered closed and his head rested on the stretcher again.

“Tormod!” Tourmaline was quick to check his pulse.

Wanderer rested a hoof on her shoulder. “He’s just resting. Don’t worry.”

She sniffed and nodded in agreement, shying away from his touch.

He frowned softly and turned towards the large buck. “Our friend was injured by a diseased manticore, and he needs help.”

The buck scowled at the mention of disease, and Wanderer took a reflexive step back. “We are familiar with the touch of disease. It has plagued our forest for weeks now.”

“Can you help my friend? I’m afraid the disease is spreading.”

The buck nodded, his eyes still holding a harshness to them. “Our healers will do what they can.” He turned towards the throng of deer and spoke. A couple of deer approached and their antlers glowed. Tormod’s stretcher rose with the magic and settled on the back of another pair of deer.

“Where are they taking him?” Tourmaline asked as she watched her brother get carried away.

“Our healers will do what they can, sky-rider. Be at ease.” He looked at the medic doe as she turned to follow Tormod. “Wic iio, Muecqumot, E fuwc iio fecq va.”

She looked back at him, her eyes occasionally darting to the ponies. “E bqiotl ja fecq cqa fiowlal.”

“Iio fett waal ci qauz fquc E quda ci bui ub fatt.” His gaze turned stern. “Iioz zabpiwbejteceab kiva mexbc.”

She lowered her head, a soft frown on her muzzle. “Iab, Atlaz.”

The buck turned back to the ponies and motioned for them to follow. “Come, we must talk.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Wanderer followed, Tourmaline and Trixie following after him.

As he walked, he took the time to observe the deer village. Their large conical tents reminded him of the buffalo tents near Appleloosa, yet the designs that were stitched upon them were so intricate, he doubted the buffalo could begin to match them. The designs were almost all of a single tree or a leafy vine.

He saw whole families tending to daily tasks around the tents, though the deer paused to watch the ponies as they walked past. While many regarded them with suspicion, they didn’t show any hostility. He saw a pair of fawns playing together, and when they saw the ponies, they gasped and pointed towards them, yelling something at a tent. A doe stepped out to see what the commotion was about and barked something at the two when she saw the ponies. The two fawns lowered their heads and obediently trudged into the tent.A faint smile tugged at Wanderer’s mouth. He didn’t need to understand what was said to know what had just happened.

“Did that remind you of anything?” he asked Tourmaline. When she didn’t answer, he turned a curious look her way and frowned at her distant gaze. “Tourmaline, it will be all right.” He tried to rest a hoof on her shoulder, but she moved away from his touch. He held his hoof in the air for a stunned moment before he rested it back to the ground. “I know Tormod will be all right. He’s tougher than I am, and I believe the deer will help him.”

She looked over at him and gave a small smile of gratitude before looking back at the ground.

Wanderer wanted to say more, but he felt she wouldn’t want to hear him. Instead, he sighed and looked ahead. He noticed the large buck was staring back at them, his expression unreadable.

“If I can, sir,” Wanderer said, “where are we? And who are you all?”

The buck nodded. “I will answer all of your questions when we get to my tent, earth-tamer. There are questions I need to ask of you as well. Let us at least get to a comfortable place in which to speak.”

Wanderer nodded and glanced back at Trixie, who was busy taking in all the sights around her. Her eyes darted from tent to deer to the massive tree above and back. He took a look at the tree himself, still marveling at the sheer size of the thing, before speaking.

“It’s amazing. Isn’t it?”

Her ear flicked, and she couldn’t pull her gaze away from it. “It is breathtaking actually.”

His gaze swept the village again and he couldn’t help but agree. “It would make for an excellent story for your show, huh?”

A quick giggle escaped her, and she covered her muzzle—a blush creeping on her cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hoof and shook her mane with a toss of her head. “Trixie doubts anypony would believe her.”

“We are here,” Wanderer heard the buck say. He turned back to find themselves before the largest tent in the entire village. The medic lifted the flap and the buck walked in. When the ponies hesitated to enter, she gestured inside with an encouraging nod. “Ptauba, awcaz.”

Tourmaline glanced at him and entered the tent. A soft sigh escaped his nose as he followed, Trixie right behind him.

The large tent was lit by a central fire pit, its smoke exiting through an opening high above them. The buck sat directly across from the entrance, easing himself onto a cushion, and beckoned. “Please, sit and relax. You have questions and we have much to discuss.”

Wanderer sat next to Tourmaline, who didn’t try to scoot away from him, while Trixie sat nearby. The doe uneasily sat on the other side of the fire, opposite the ponies.

The buck turned a look at the squirming doe. “Faithful, I must speak to them in their own tongue. I will need you to do the same now.”

She dipped her head. “Yes, Grandfather.”

The ponies stared at her in shock before Tourmaline bristled. “You can talk in Equestrian? Why didn’t you answer any of us earlier?!”

The doe looked down with a shamed frown and a look of doubt crossed Tourmaline’s face.

“I… am most sorry,” the doe said.

“I ask that you forgive my granddaughter,” the buck said, his calm visage still present. “She was doing as she had to to protect her people.”

Wanderer spoke up as Tourmaline settled next to him again. “Who are you? What is this place?”

The buck nodded, obviously expecting those questions. “We are as you see, earth-tamer. We are the White Tail Tribe, the chosen children of the Great Mother. This is our home of Maederhallow. Our tribe has lived under the Great Mother’s protection for many, many generations.”

“The Great Mother?” Wanderer asked with a curious tilt of his head.

A pensive frown crossed the buck’s face before speaking. “I do not know what the ponies refer to her as now, but she is the great oak tree that watches over us.”

“The Mother Oak,” Tourmaline said.

He nodded. “That is she. She guards and watches over us. Protecting us from those who would wish us harm.”

Wanderer saw the doe flinch at those words but remained silent.

Tourmaline tucked a bang behind an ear. “Who are you exactly? All of the deer treat you like a leader.”

“That is because I am, sky-rider. I am the tribal Elder, and I oversee my kin and teach them the ways of the forest.” He motioned to the doe next to him. “This is my granddaughter, Faithful Watcher. She is both a warrior and healer for our tribe.”

Faithful beamed at his words. “I am most pleased to meet you,” she said, lowering her head again in a respectful nod.

Wanderer laid a hoof on Tourmaline as she bristled and sighed in relief as she calmed down. He glanced at Trixie as she spoke.“If you’ve lived here for so long, how have you gone unnoticed? Trixie’s never heard of the White Tail Tribe before.”

A cloud seemed to pass over the Elder’s face, but it was gone quickly. “It is as I said, aura-weaver. The Great Mother protects us from those who wish us harm. That includes the pony tribes. I am sure you have heard the tales from the sky-riders of winds that keep them at bay? Or of the fog that turns would-be explorers around back to the forest’s edge? That is the Mother’s protection at work.”

Wanderer felt Tourmaline stiffen, but wasn’t fast enough to stop her. “Why do you keep calling us that?”

The deer looked at her curiously.

“You’ve called me and pegasi ‘sky-riders’. Why do you do that?”

“Because that is what you are, sky-rider. A pony who rides the winds of our world upon feathered wings. Just as your companion—” he motioned to Wanderer “—is an earth-tamer. Those of his clan can control the very earth around them as well as commune with the natural world.”

“And Trixie?” Trixie asked, pointing to herself.

“You are of the aura-weavers, as is your wounded companion. Your tribe can weave the magical aura that surrounds our world with your unique connection to it.”

Tourmaline glowerd. “We have names you know?”

“And I would hear them,” the Elder said without missing a beat.

Wanderer doffed his hat. “I’m Wanderer.” He motioned to Tourmaline who sat in a huff. “This is Tourmaline.”

“And I’m…” Trixie stood tall, tipping her hat. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

Her companions both facehoofed as the showmare never missed a grand introduction. The two deer sat stunned for a moment before the Elder began to chuckle.

Once his laughter subsided, he gave Trixie a knowing smile. “One can feel the confidence radiate from you, aura-weaver.”

“Trixie does try to astound.” She went to flutter her cape, but frowned when she realized it was in their packs, still coated in Tormod’s blood.

“When she’s not cowering behind others,” Tourmaline muttered. He rolled his eyes before looking back as the Elder spoke.

“I am sure you do.” He cleared his throat and sat taller. “Now, I wish to ask a question of you all.”

The ponies shared a look as Trixie retook her seat. “Yes?”

“What brought you so deeply into our forest?”

The weight of that question pressed down on them as Wanderer rubbed at the back of his head. “It’s kind of a long story…”

The Elder sat comfortably on his cushion. “We have time, earth-tamer. Please, share it with us.”

The three ponies took the better part of the next three hours to recount their adventure in the forest as well as their individual reasons. The two deer sat quietly, listening to them as the told of their encounters with each other and the forest’s denizens. When they came to the telling of the tree guardian, the listened intently. When they came to the telling of the manticore attack and the subsequent capture, the Elder stared at the campfire for a long moment.Faithful looked at the ponies, shifting uncomfortably in the silence, before looking at her grandsire.

“Grandfather? Are you well?”

He looked away from the fire, blinking as his focus returned. “My apologies. I was thinking on this curious tale I have heard. It is unlike anything I ever expected to hear.”

Wanderer smirked. “We really didn’t expect to see half of what we’ve seen either. Who could’ve known a tribe of deer lived deep in the Forest of the Oak?” His shoulders rose in a shrug. “I didn’t.”

A faint smirk tugged at the Elder’s muzzle. “You are droll, earth-tamer, a quality I did not think a pony could possess. It seems your tribes have changed more than I had thought.”

A frown crossed Tourmaline’s face as she looked at him curiously. “What do you mean by that?”

While the Elder remained passive, Wanderer didn’t miss Faithful looking away. “A lesson steeped in history, sky-rider. Now is not the time to open wounds of old.” A frown covered the Elder’s face. “It is time to speak of fresher wounds. Did you notice the devastation of our forest?”

The two adventurers looked to their hooves. “We… really had other concerns at the time,” Tourmaline said. “All I remember was saving my brother.”

He nodded in understanding but Trixie spoke before he could.

“Trixie remembers.” She slid her cap off to set it beside her, her gaze on the campfire. “Trixie remembers all of the dead and torn trees. The nasty beetled that smelled awful, and the manticore that attacked Trixie. She will never forget what she saw.”

“The devastation has been running rampant in our forest for the past weeks.” He shifted his weight as his expression turned grim. “Ever since the Bringers of Plague arrived in our forest, nothing but grief has befallen our tribe.”

“The Bringers of Plague?” Wanderer echoed.

Faithful’s scowl was so fierce, Wanderer thought she was going to lunge across the fire. “They are a cult of most vile ponies who are trying to destroy our home. They tear down the trees and have hurt so many of my fellow warriors. They don’t care what they hurt if it means they can destroy the forest.”

The Elder rested a hoof on her withers to calm her. “My granddaughter speaks true. The Bringers are a cult that is dedicated to the Lady of Disease. Lead by her Harbinger, they seek only to release her from her prison so that she can wrack our world with her plague of death.”

Trixie felt her jaw hang down, and she saw her companions had similar expressions on their faces. “A cult of ponies to a follow someone named that? Who would be stupid enough to do such a thing?” Tourmaline asked.

“Who is this Lady of Disease?” Wanderer asked, his face showing a growing apprehension.

“She is one of the many spirits that inhabit our world, to maintain balance. She was known as…” He trailed off as he saw both adventurers scowl fiercely. “You know of the spirits?”

Wanderer huffed and crossed his forelegs. “More than we ever wanted to.”

Trixie stared at him for a long moment even as Tourmaline spoke. “We’re…” She glanced at Wanderer and sighed. “Do you know who Tyranny is?”

All three ponies flinched back as the Elder suddenly stood in outrage. “The Spirit of Order! What of him?”

“H-He was released about a half an year ago,” Trixie said when the adventurers wouldn’t. “But he was defeated by Princess Celestia and the Elements of Harmony.”

With a strangled growl, the buck sat back down. “Is this true?”

“I was… I was there,” Tourmaline said.

The buck turned his hard gaze to her. “He was soundly defeated?”

She gave a soft nod, shooting a glance Wanderer’s way. “There was nothing left of him afterwards.” She lifted a hoof at him, but let it rest back down.

“Good,” the Elder snapped.

Faithful Watcher looked at him in concern. “Are you well, grandfather?”

He took in a long calming breath before nodding. “I am, Faithful. Just hearing his name brings back memories I never wanted to recall.” He turned his gaze back to the three ponies, his expression grim. “But it is not the past that concerns me, but the present.” Turning his gaze to Wanderer and Tourmaline, he spoke again. “You both claim to be adventurers?”

“We are,” the two said in unison.

“Then I must call upon you to answer that calling. The Bringers of Plague tear our forest down in their desperate search for the key that will release their mistress. They must not find it.”

The two shared a look before Wanderer spoke. “We’re not much for fighting, sir. Two ponies will not make a difference.”

The Elder shook his head. “I am not asking you to fight your kin but to obtain the key before they. It must be taken far from this forest. All the way to your princesses so they can seal it away or destroy it utterly.”

Tourmaline nervously toyed with her necklace. “Where would we look?”

The Elder gave her a reassuring smile. “We know where it lies hidden but have been unable to take it in fear the Bringers and their monstrous allies would slaughter our people for it.”

Faithful jumped to her hooves, a deep scowl on her face. “Let them come, grandfather! We will show them the strength and pride of the White Tail!”

He turned a calm, but stern look her way. “It is still a risk I would not take, Faithful. The Great Mother brought these four to us for a reason and we must take the aid offered to us.”

The doe sat down in a huff, and the Elder turned back to the ponies. “We can show you the way to the key. From there, it is only a test of your skills to obtain it.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “I know we are asking much of you. You know us not and we ask for your help, but with your being here, you offer us a chance to rid our home of the Bringers. So I will ask: will you help us?”

The three sat quietly for a time, pensive frowns on their faces. Trixie shot the other two a look for any indication of their thoughts. She realized that this was a request more for them than she. Between all she had heard today, of cults, spirits, and lost civilizations, she truly felt out of place. Trixie was a showmare, an entertainer—this sort of thing was not her expertise.

Her ears flicked as she heard Wanderer chuckle.

“An adventure with the possibility of saving Equestria from an evil cult who wants to destroy everything? Sounds like the sort of thing Daring Do would do.” His lopsided grin grew. “Sign me up.”

Tourmaline frowned and shook her head. “We don’t have Tormod with us. We can’t do anything without him.”

Wanderer’s eagerness faded. “Yeah, we can’t go on an adventure without him.”

Faithful shook her head. “He is too injured to be of help. Once we cleanse him of the disease, his physical wound will take time to heal.”

“We need him,” Tourmaline said. “His magic has helped us so many times before, we need him.”

The doe looked at Trixie. “What of your companion? Surely she could—”

“No!” Tourmaline interrupted. “It’s her fault Tormod’s hurt in the first place!”

Trixie averted her eyes, unable to argue.

“That is hardly the point, sky-rider. If you need help, best to take it where you find it.” The Elder gave Trixie a warm smile. “She shows promise to be a boon for your tasks.”

“I will not—”

“Tourmaline,” Wanderer said, “we should ask Trixie to help us.”

Tourmaline turned a seething glare his way. “Are you insane? No!”

His eyes narrowed. “We have to get the key to Princess Celestia as fast as we can. If Trixie can help us get it, then we need to put our feelings aside for Equestria.” He looked at Trixie, cutting Tourmaline off again. “Trixie, will you help us?”

Trixie didn’t get a chance to say anything before Tourmaline raised her voice again. “No! Wanderer, this is too much! You might be willing to accept what you’ve been told at face value, I’m not.” She pointed an accusatory hoof at the deer. “How do we know they’re not lying? The first thing they ever did was put weapons at our throats and now you want to trust them? Why should we help them after all of that?”

“We don’t lie! We of the White Tails do not need to resort to lies like the—”

“Faithful, that is enough!” The Elder snapped, leveling a disapproving glare at his granddaughter.

“B-But, grandfather, they—”

“I said calm.”

She made a few strangled sounds before lowering her head and settled on her cushion.

Giving a firm nod, he looked back at the three ponies. “The day has been long and difficult for all of you, and I will not ask you to make your choice now. Perhaps with a few days for you all to rest, and see that your companion—”

“His name is Tormod,” Tourmaline interjected.

“The aura-weaver will be tended to and perhaps gaining some understanding of us will help in your decision.” He stood from his cushion, more than a few joints popping with the movement. “We will set aside a dwelling for all of you to use for your stay here.”

“Actually, sir, if we can have our gear back, we can set up our own tents,” Wanderer said, rising up as well. “We’ve cared for ourselves for years, so we won’t be a bother on your people.”

The Elder tilted his head at him, then nodded. “As you wish. It is good to see those who still hold to their dignity.” He turned to Faithful. “Return their items and show them a place where they can set their tents.”

She lowered her head obediently. “Yes, grandfather.”

The three exited the tent and saw that the sun had nearly set. The entire village was aglow with many campfires in the late evening fog.

“I will inform our people that you will be treated as guests of our tribe,” the Elder said as he stepped out of the tent as well. “Please, explore our village and know you are welcome. All that we ask in turn is that you do not cause a disturbance. Many of our warriors are on edge as of late and I wish for no misunderstandings.”

The three bowed their heads to him. “We’ll do our best,” Wanderer said.

“Will there be anypony—er, deer who can help us understand your language?” Trixie asked, glancing to some of the warriors that watched them closely.

The Elder nodded. “Faithful Watcher will be your guide and interpreter. She is one of the few who have been taught the Equestrian language.”

Faithful again lowered her head and turned to give the three a soft smile. “I am most honored to be of aid.”

“Can I go see my brother?” Tourmaline asked, a timbre of worry in her tone.

An understanding smile crossed the Elder’s face. “I understand your concern for your kin, sky-rider—believe me when I say I do—but our healers will treat his injury with the utmost care. I swear by my place as Elder that you will be the first to know if there is any change in his condition.”

She huffed and gave a disappointed nod. “Thank you.”

He started away but paused. “I understand your hesitance, and I truly hope you agree to help us.” He glanced back. “The Great Mother brought you here for a reason, and I am sure it is more than any of us can guess.” He started down the path for the large central fire. “Rest well.”

“This way, please,” Faithful said as she lead them away.

The ponies followed after the doe as she lead them through the village. A soft light started glowing from her antlers as the darkness settled in.

As they walked, many of the deer eyed the ponies warily. More than a few of the glares they received from the armed deer caused their hackles to rise.

“Is there anything we should be worried about here?” Wanderer asked, trotting to catch up to Faithful. “A lot of your people don’t seem all that happy about us being here.”

Faithful looked back at him apologetically. “It is not anything you have done, earth-tamer—”

He gave a tired grin. “Please, call me Wanderer.”

A wide smile crossed her muzzle. “Very well, Wanderer. As I was saying: it is not anything you have done. It is the fault of the Bringers that our people are untrusting of ponyfolk.” She looked ahead of them again and Wanderer saw her ears pin back. “As well as our history with your folk that still simmers in the memories of many here.”

Trixie turned a curious glance her way. “What happened in the past? Trixie has never heard of the White Tail deer in any of the history books she has read.”

Faith’s head dropped lower. “...It is not my place to say.”

Tourmaline trotted up to her side. “What is your place then? You're a healer, a fighter, and the granddaughter of the village elder. You have to be important.”

A faint blush crept up on the doe’s face but it quickly faded. “Forgive me. We have only just met and I cannot share secrets with you. Not without the Elder’s permission.”

A frown tugged at Tourmaline’s mouth and she fell silent. They walked until they came to a small unlit fire pit that had none of the conical tents set around it.

Faith motioned around the firepit. “You may set up your tents here, and we will bring some food for you.”

A growl escaped from Wanderer’s belly, drawing the gazes of the three. He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his head. “Sorry. It has a mind of its own.”

Faithful’s head snapped back, her eyes widening. “Your stomach thinks for itself?”

“And he listens to it,” Tourmaline grumbled.

He glowered at her. “You’re one to talk,” he muttered before looking back at Faithful who watched the two closely. “It was a joke. I was trying to be funny.”

The deer’s lost expression slowly faded to understanding. “Oh, I see. You made the joke to make the others smile, not your stomach actually talking to you.”

Wanderer stared at her for a stunned moment. “Uh, yeah. Something like that.”

Trixie set her cap aside as more deer arrived. They set their packs on the ground as well as a few bowls filled with persimmons and blackberries.

“Trixie thanks you,” she said to one of the bucks.

He sneered at her. “Buda iioz jzaucq, piwi.”

Faithful snapped at him and he obediently lowered his head and moved away.

Trixie frowned, she might not have understood what he said, but she knew that tone of voice. “What did he say to Trixie?”

Faith frowned. “It is best I do not say.” She gave the three a serious look. “I apologize for my kin, but most are unwilling to let the past remain there. There are some who want to learn more of the ponyfolk, like me, but we are not many.” She sighed, her ears pinning back. “If any of my tribe refers to you as ‘piwi’, please try to avoid them. They are not friends of yours.”

“What does it mean?” Tourmaline asked as she popped another persimmon in her mouth.

“It means ‘pony’, and they do not mean it kindly.”

Wanderer raised an eyebrow at her. “You mean it’s considered an insult to be called a pony?”

Faith nodded, a grim frown on her face. “It is considered a very vile term in our language.”

Wanderer rubbed at his chin for a second before shaking his head. “Who would’ve thought?”

As the night set in full, Faithful let her light glow brighter. “I will leave you to your rest then. I will seek you in the morning.”

“Thank you, Faithful Watcher,” Wanderer and Trixie said in unison, followed belatedly by Tourmaline.

The doe gave them a pleasant smile. “Please, call me Faith.” She winked faintly at Wanderer before turning for the village.

He pursed his lips in a pensive frown as he watched her vanish through the fog.

“What’s wrong?” Tourmaline asked as she finished her bowl of berries.

He turned back to her, his frown not lessening. “...Did she just make fun of me?”

Author's Notes:

Wow, been forever since I last updated. Sorry about that folks. New full time job has pretty much killed all of my free time to write. However, I will still get this story out, I swear it!

So how about the deer? Would like to hear what you folks think of them.

Cheers!