“How’s your hoofing, Miss Belle?” With eyes faintly aglow and his heart rattling, he looked up to the brave little filly steadily scaling the wall. She squeezed through the gap above and looked down with a nervous smile.

“I think it’s good, I can do it.” She tightened her grip on the potion in her hand and rested, watching the knight slide out towards the waiting dogs.

“I’m counting on you,” he said, fiddling with his belt. Baiting himself closer to the wolves sent them wild, timber paws scraping the stone as he shuffled just out of reach. With him as their sole focus, Sweetie Belle could get a few more feat higher. She began her ascent, bottle neck between her teeth, her little heart racing as she gripped root and rock.

Ser Vincent had little space to work with but with his waist free he could lean back and work on a quick concoction. He pulled out a white vial filled with silver dust and a vial cork with a strip of metal ending with a silver bulb running through it, a copper ring where strip piece the cork. He replaced the cap on the vial with the pulling fuse. A quick tug and a spark flew, the bulb dropping off and glowing an angry red.

He waited two seconds exactly before tossing it over the wolves, actually chuckling when a wolf dove for it and swallowed it whole. The timber beast disappeared to the side before a loud pimf! was heard, followed by white cloud of smoke to appear around the entrance. The wolves soon began to wheeze and splutter, backing off momentarily. Chalk smoke was designed to irritate the lungs and was brief in existence, not to mention Ser Vincent only had the one white vial on him at the time. He hardly had time to restock his belt, what with moving around and his friendly neighbours visiting and what not.

“Here I go, Miss Belle, remember what I said?” He took one last look up to her, seeing that she was creeping up slower than he would have liked.

“Take a sip, then a deep breath, then blow out some candles where you are,” she reiterated as she had been explained.

He gave her a curt nod as he pulled out several small blue capsules and placed them in both hands. “Be swift, Miss Belle. We may yet take them all in one fell swoop.” With that he sucked in a lungful of air and backed out of the entrance, slamming his hands down on both lips of the crevice. He felt the blue capsules of goo cast crunch beneath his gloved palms. Froths of cyan exploded out from where he struck, goo connecting as he stepped into the white mist, soon solidifying to seal of the entrance. If any wolf were to try to seek the filly, they at least couldn’t distract her from the crevice entrance, and possibly scare her into a fall.

Ser Vincent idly twirled a vial of petrification in his right hand as he emerged from the dissipating smog, scanning his prey. He was on edge, blood coursing through with barely contained magic waiting to erupt and enhance his physical abilities, his nerves shaking him with fearfull anticipation.

The wolves that weren’t choking were beginning to circle, small fry but still dangerous. Seven plus the elephant sized beta stalking behind them. Another howl rung out, scattering birds in the forest they had been chased through and still surrounded them. The alpha was yet to make an appearance.

With that in mind he pocketed the petrification vial, sealing the pocket. He tilted his head up slightly.

“Sweetie Belle, wait for my mark, okay?!” His yell agitated the wolves as three approached.

“Got it!” He heard from behind.

He took a deep breath, inhaling in and exhaling out, gradually gaining speed. It helped work his heart harder, chest widening as he spread his arms.

“Come on, who’s first?” He beckoned. Two of the dogs took offence and bound towards him, their snarling teeth and amber eyes poised on the bearish figure before them. The glow to Ser Vincent’s eyes returned in full force, flaring with a strong gold as they leapt at him. The world slowed, the wolves’ bodies becoming saturated with brown and forest jade, whilst the background lost its colour. Though these figures moved at walking pace they shone brightly in his heightened vision, as did the slowly flanking timber wolves behind them.

He caught one by the throat but the other managed to latch onto the right shoulder, teeth struggling with the tough material of the coat. It pawed and clawed at his armour refusing to lose its grip. The caught hound squirmed, hind leg beating against Vincent’s chest. Spotting the third rapidly approaching, Ser Vincent reacted.

He slammed the dog in his left hand down onto the ground, almost dislodging the wolf latched onto his shoulder. Rising to full height, he brought his boot down hard onto its chest, breaking through the bark and into the plant-like centre of the now whimpering wolf. He used both arms to peel away the second wolf, its splintered teeth leaving spittle and leaked chloroplast behind. The patch he had used to cover a previous bite mark had come undone.

He raised the beast above his head and slammed down onto the third wolf as it arrived, crushing its head as it went for Vincent’s ankle. Stepping back, he kicked off the still squirming carcass of the wolf, watching it scamper to its paws, wheezing as bits of plant helped it regenerate. The downed pair sluggishly rose up, obviously damaged more by the blow to their heads than the first wolf was to his chest.

And now Ser Vincent was left to deal with the four that had been trying to flank him, the light of his eyes hardly fading.

In truth, it wasn’t too high of a climb, and yet, at the same time it felt that way.

‘Hand after hand.’ she told herself. It didn’t help when she lost her grip and slipped, squealing and almost losing the precious potion in her mouth. She froze to the spot, eyes clenched shut, shivering as she gripped a root tightly in both hands.

“It might get scary, but guess what? Being scared shouldn’t stop you, it should motivate you. Just try climbing a bit higher… a little bit closer to the top than before, a little bit closer than before, and before you know it, you’re on top of the world.”

Sweetie Belle managed to get a good holding above the knight, who used his hand as a platform for her left hood. With it she reach up to the enclosing outcropping, taking a firm hold. Only she could through this gap and help the two get out of this forest.

With a steadying breath, she managed to calm herself. Her eyes opened with a burning determination, her hand already reaching a little bit closer to the top than before.

With enhanced strength, the knight lifted the wolf by its hind leg and plunged a fist into its belly. Green ichor and a stench of rotten eggs poured out as he retracted his hand, barely fazing the knight as he spun around sent it fly towards its peer. On collision, the pair were smashed to pieces, leaving one dog left: the beta timber wolf.

Ser Vincent didn’t even wait, he merely lowered his mask so that his piercing golden glare met the wild jade stare of the beta wolf, and walked backwards with his arms apart. It charged and closed the distance, leaping into the fray and landing both of its thick paws onto his shoulders. The beast was heavy and as large as an elephant, but Vincent was still stronger.

He rolled with the pounce, narrowly avoiding his head being bitten off and launched it over him with a brutal double kick from his powerful legs. Nimbly he recovered and bound over towards the beast whilst it skittered to it paws. He didn’t slow down, even as it growled— he took advantage of its exposed side.

It made to snap at him but he dodged and kicked its rear leg out. It swept its tail, composed of vines and thorns, stinging his side. Betas were a cut above the regular wooden mutts he had contended with. He promptly pounded the reinforced shoulder of the downed wolf with precise powerful blows. Being half an actual tree meant he was effectively trying to cut through a log with his gloved fists, and yet, cracks were forming.

The timber wolf growled, snapping at him with needle like teeth as it rose back to full height. He wasn’t in the mood to let it off the hook so easily and made to latch onto its side, one arm and one leg over its shoulder.

“You were never in my league to begin with,” he growled into its ear, securing his grasp.

The wolf seemed rather offended that something would dare to leap onto it for a change and began circling around itself, snapping at his leg. He succeeded in rising to mount it before its hind leg could scrap him off and so Vincent got to work on the next step of his plan.

Without warning he slipped forward, dragging the beast down by the neck as he planted his legs firmly onto the ground. With a strain he gripped tightly where the head socketed into the main timber body with his right hand, his left hooking under its jaw. With an acute twist he floored the beast, felling onto its side whilst still in the headlock.

It squirmed and writhed, pawing at him, an act halted with one boot placed squarely onto its neck. With all the might in his leg and arms, with the strength forged from years of dedication, with the fury and wrath of being protective of another, combined with the magic momentarily coursing through his veins, Ser Vincent growled and pulled. Bit by bit, sinew by sinew, vine by vine, the wolf’s cries quietened until a sickening crunch later and the head was tore from the shoulders.

He dropped the silenced beasts head with a huff, listening as the magically held together body and skull collapse into a fetid pile of sticks, bark and leaves. Wild glowing eyes watched the motionless pieces of timber for a moment, his heavy and quick breathing polluting the silent air. After a herculean feat of strength like that he felt a minor break was warranted.

Thud… Thud.

A small rest to allow him to face the alpha would have been nice, but a fire breathing small white cloud would do as well.

With a small grunt, Sweetie Belle pulled herself over the mouth of the hole. With a light pant she lay there, spitting out the orange flask to allow for easier breaths. She did it! It was an amazing feeling short lived as she recalled just where exactly she was. Struggling to her hooves, she looked over to spy Ser Vincent retreating from a hulking monster of a timber wolf.

It had to have been just shy of the embankment she had just scaled. Bundles of trees had bound together to make for powerful legs, the body was a small forest in its own right, the head the size of carriage and snout as long as an oak. It prowled out of the forest, trees gently laid to rest as paws pressed steadily down onto them. She could see more and more wolves following it, albeit smaller ones.

It emerged, scanning its fallen brethren before glaring at the prey before it. Ser Vincent could be seen steadily retreating, not once turning its back onto it. The alpha wolf then craned its head high and howled, and what an echoing and dreadful howl it was, the fur on the back of her neck stood on end and she held the potion tightly between her hands.

“Miss Sweetie Belle!”

Looking down, the knight began to sprint towards her, the golden lights of his eyes looking up.

“Prepare the potion as soon as it gets close enough!”

She glance to the potion and uncorked it: gulp it, breath in, and blow out some candles. Right?

He had baited the beast as close to the stone wall as he could and looked back. The alpha prowled closer, syrupy saliva seeping out from between its wooden canines. In the woods that surrounded the clearing another fresh pack of timber wolves slinked out. Good, they’d need to see this.

The alpha wolf sneered and growled, the distance between it and Vincent shrinking by the second. He stood there panting, his left hand closed and a vial of petrify in his right hand. He felt ragged by now, the magic beginning to take its toll -- his body wasn’t meant to handle magic but could in short bursts.

With a deep breath he clenched his right hand, breaking the vial and unleashing its contents. He formed a claw with his hand, feeling it tingle and stiffen as it turned to stone. When he latches on, he won’t have quite the literal iron grip but close enough. The liquid spell ended halfway along the forearm, the maw of his sleeve solidifying and greying.

He stepped forward, shaking his stone claw loose of residue, the droplets petrifying patches of grass beneath him. He planted one leg forward, his body twisted to the right and his left shoulder leading. He taunted with a beckoning motion, left hand clenched right hand turned to stone.

“Come on you overgrown fern!” he barked. The wolf lounged forward, maw agape. He was assaulted by a wave of fetid air, a visible fog of green stench slamming into him. The teeth had to have been as large as his forearm, the fangs as long as his arm itself! The mouth, open wide enough to swallow him whole, snapped down as he leapt back, left arm out stretched…

And caught. Teeth splintered and dislodged as his arm was caught between the canines, a cry of pain almost downed the knight. A gash formed in his coat but the armour beneath protected the flesh. He fell to a knee, the immense pressure clamping around his bicep turning to ache and torment. With his petrified clawed hand, he raked the earth, gasping as a slimy tongue writhed along his trapped arm.

‘Glad I wear gloves.’ An amusing thought, an oddity that made him chuckle as his senses returned moments before the beast dragged him off his feet. ‘In hindsight, not my best plan.’ The wolf whipped him about, shaking as one would wave a flag about. Time and time again he was pounded into the ground, his armour rattling as gasped and spluttered, the wind knocked out of him time and time again.

“Vincent!” Sweetie Belle cried in object terror as the wolf pinned him to floor, attempting to claw his body form his arm. The claws raked and gashed across the body of the knight, never quite gaining footing as he squirmed. She saw the other wolves circle around, jade eyes hungry, but above all else, she saw Vincent’s eyes still golden.

As well as a blue froth seeping out of the alpha’s maw.

Yes, the beast’s mouth had been sealed shut, hence why it hadn’t released him as of yet. He had thrusted his hand into the beast whilst holding several capsules of goo cast, crushing them and effectively binding himself to the alpha.

Ser Vincent, having lost his reflexive mirth at the sound of the unicorn’s cry, twisted until he could plant two feet onto the ground. With a heave and groan he rose back to full height, stumbling as the wolf retreated.

He then anchored his foot down, and for a completely different reason, he was glad Miss Belle couldn’t see his face as he glared up the muzzle of the wolf still trying to chew out his arm. He panted and wheeze, thankful that the adrenaline induced magic also numbed him to the intense pain he should be feeling.

“Miss Belle!” He cried, slamming his stone claw of a hand into the snout of the wolf, penetrating the thick wood. The wolf tried to free itself but was found to be rooted to the spot by Vincent’s immense strength. “On my mark!”

Again, he twisted his body, fighting the wolf for dominance. It was sheer grudge match of strength as he twisted and pulled, side to side. He growled himself when he spotted more wolves prowling closer – daring to interfere, something that spiked his ire. More the merrier he thought darkly. With a mighty heave he dragged the beast to the left, causing its front leg to slip.

“Now! Drink it now and aim at us!”

“But I’ll get you too!” Shock took Sweetie at the suggestion.

“Just do it!” Ser Vincent then roared once more, a powerful bark of his own as he swung the entire form of the alpha wolf to his right, slamming into the wall and knocking it off it feet. The colossus fell with a thunderous shudder, leg splintering. This was it, now or never. He couldn’t do this again, he couldn’t on this level of exhaustion for the rest of the day. He took on wounds that may well crippled him if not treated soon and the magic sustaining his superhuman endeavour was beginning to burn.

Sweetie Belle quickly downed the entire flask, reciting the instructions as she dropped the empty container beside her. The taste was coppery, a hint of lemon slipping down her throat. Take a deep breath; air filled her lungs, which started to glow through her furred boy with a fiery light.

Blow out the candles. She pursed her lips and jerked her head down, hands clenched by her side.

’“All you do is take a little sip…”‘

Those words of the knight rung in her little head all too late as the magic within her burst forth as a stream of burning flame. It was powerful as it was scorching, pummelling anything beneath it with a torrent of molten flame. She heard the cry of wolves through closed eyes, the heat alone threatening dry them as she swept the blaze along the bottom of the small cliff she had climbed.

Wolves fled as the ground burned, the dry oppressive heat sending the back and igniting tails. Like the burning ire of the Fates, the finger of wrath was dragged along the base of the cliff, incinerating anything in its path without discrimination. Tilting her head, she managed to reach close to the tree line before returning back towards the half cooked alpha.

Finally the burning stopped. Smoke trailed from her nostrils and mouth, her head light and dizzy as she stumbled to the edge to peer down. Whilst coughing Sweetie developed hiccups, rings of smoke puffing out with every spasm of her diaphragm.

“Vinc-hic-ent?!” She managed a yell, her blurry eyes spotting a streak of black and orange flickers. Her focus fell onto a single green flame, standing tall amidst patches of regular fires and ash. “Ser Vin-hic—whoa!”

With a splutter she slipped and fell forward, over the edge. Her scream was trailed by a line of smoke as she descended. Something crashed into her, warm and doused with ash. Her world spun until she crashed down, not as hard as expected and rolled until she came to rest atop a body, her eyes not yet adjusted to the world.

“V-v-v-hic-Vincent?”

“That’s Ser Vincent, Miss Belle,” the knight stated from where he lay. He propped himself up on his elbows, tilting his masked head. It was a chore to do just this.

Finally her eyes adjusted; through smoking hiccups she could see the knight was seemingly unharmed, scratches now marking his entire coat whilst ash painted his left arm black. The patch on his right shoulder had vanish, revealing a ring of teeth marks. But the most prominent feature he now sported were the wisps of emerald flames that danced on his shoulder and shins. She would have burnt her tail had not moved it away in time.

“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning forward. He made to reach her with his stone hand, but reconsidered. His left arm was nearly dead and the magical adrenaline rush was beginning to fade, the glow receding from his eyes.

“I’m fi-hic-ine,” she spluttered, sending a ring of black smoke into his face. “Thank you.”

“You drank the whole thing didn’t you?” Ser Vincent questioned through a heavy pant.

“Is that bad?” she asked, a little sheepish.

“Our bodies are different, so different does have different effects.” Vincent paused to splutter and shake off the ash on his muzzle. When failing to do so, Sweetie Belle assisted with her hand, finding the mask warm. “Thank you. A full beaker of dragon’s breath is about as quarter as strong as an actual adult dragon’s flame to ponies. For me, I imagine it’s like Twilight’s young dragon assistant as he is now.”

“So did I do something wrong?” she asked, shaking the ash from her three digited hand.

With a groggy motion, he scanned passed the little filly. The entire giant body of the alpha wolf had been incinerated leaving a pile of ash the size of a pony; what little grassland had managed to grow here had combusted, some places still alight; the earth here was cracked, in some places completely glassed, and the little unicorn before him was blowing smoke rings out her nose and mouth.

“Looks fine to me,” was all he had to say on the matter before her rested his head on the warm ground, his chest rising and falling rapidly. It really wasn’t… but he wouldn’t trade her life for undamaged habitat.