“There is a new predator in the forest,” Zecora whispered, her hoof jammed in the doorway of Fluttershy’s cottage, “and I want you to help me lay it to rest.”

“Uhm,” Fluttershy muttered back, ducking below the small chain that wouldn’t allow the door to swing further open. “You must be mistaken. Maybe A– Applejack, or Daring Do would–”

“It’s not all.” Zecora pinched her lips back, a tear of sweat tracing its way down her cheek. Her teeth bare in a pained grimace, she looked left and right, then stepped aside to press her flank by the door to see. A shoddy-taped pack of gauzes came to view, and with it, the red and brown of new blood beneath. “I need help above all.”

“Oh sweet Celestia,” Fluttershy gasped.

Wound

Trace

Nest

Stranger

Hunt

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