There are few things as awkward as walking into a room with your marefriend and the homeowner whose shower you just clopped in, only to realize they heard every single moment of it. ‘We heard you,’ their flushed faces say as I observe them sitting across from each other at the coffee table. On Lyra’s face, a raised eyebrow and awkward smile greet me as I walk through the doorway into the living-room. In contrast, Blossom looks both concerned and mortified. Luna preserve me, they heard me, and now Blossom thinks I’m some kind of lech.

“Silver... while I would like to admonish you for engaging in such a lewd act under somepony else’s roof, there is another question that seems more pressing,” Blossom comments, shifting uncomfortably on the cushion beneath her. “In my experience, ponies do not cry with the sorrow of a filly that received nothing on Hearth’s Warming while they are indulging in self-gratification. What is the matter?”

Okay, it’s bad enough they heard me clopping in the shower, but they also heard me crying in shame? Damn it all! How do I even explain to my friends and loved ones that my personal embarrassment—or worse, humiliation—is apparently a massive turn-on? It’s bad enough that I might have to explain how I know how Lyra feels regarding her lactation.

Oh yeah, it’s nothing Lyra. I just made a potion for class, only to be told I had to drink it without being allowed a purgative afterward. Something about not making potions you weren’t prepared to drink yourself. The potion was made to ensure I could make a gift I intended to give to Bon-Bon in case you ever needed her to nurse from time to time. So I spent the next six hours, trailing milk everywhere, and trying not to feel embarrassed, which went out the window when my roommate found out. Nothing completely awkward about your roommate offering to milk you like a cow or nothing... Especially not when you orgasm in her fucking hands.

Dear Celestia, when I put it like that, I sound like some sort of massive pervert. Maybe I am, though. Just thinking about explaining any of this has my tail twitching and flicking to the side. Unable to answer, I look away, once again feeling my cheeks going scarlet. “This isn’t the time or place to be discussing such things.”

Much to my disdain, Lyra snorts with laughter. “Oh, I see!” she chuckles, turning to give Blossom a wry look. “I bet humiliation gets her off, and she might have a lactation fetish. Hay, she probably remembered something pretty embarrassing when she saw my dairy-dos and all the milk.” Turning back to address me, she grins playfully. “Whatever it was must have been something pretty potent to get you that worked up.”

“S-shut up!” I look at Blossom’s mortified expression, and back to Lyra. “I’m not like that!” I groan.

Lyra bursts out laughing, banging one hoof on the table. “Are you serious? I was just joking; I didn’t honestly expect it to be true!”

“You’re evil, Lyra,” I say flatly after taking a moment to regain my composure. “Listen, do you know the way to Zecora’s hut? The other member of our party and I both have business with her, and I’d rather not be running through the Everfree without a good idea of where she lives.”

Feigning a look of injury, Lyra frowns at me. “I’m not evil, I’m just pregnant. Besides,” she answers with a yawn. “I’ve been spending far too much time around those Crusaders, and not enough time around adults. Forgive me if I want to talk about things the girls are too young to hear about.”

Ice Blossom gets this look about her that almost says ‘I’m not old enough to hear this,’ and I kind of have to agree. Maybe it’s the whole being openly lesbian thing, or the fact that Lyra still has that mysterious laptop with a never-draining battery and a trans-dimensional internet connection—she still won’t tell me where the fuck that thing came from, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why that thing gets free internet around unicorns—with full access to loads of porn and human net-culture, but the mare is plenty liberal when it comes to discussing sex-lives.

“That’s... wonderful,” I manage, hoping my face isn’t reflecting my inward cringe. “Seriously though. Zecora’s hut?”

Lyra frowns upon realizing I’m not going to take her bait and tell her anything. “Fine,” she groans, flopping gently onto the pillow beside her. “Just go out on the road leading into the forest out by Fluttershy’s cottage. Keep on the road, and you should get there within an hour or two. Just be careful; there are some strange, spooky creatures in there.”

Once I’m confident that my body has calmed down, I saunter up to Lyra, wrapping my arms around her in a hug. “Thanks, Lyra,” I say softly. “I promise you’re going to see a lot more of me when I get that potion recipe from Zecora.” Pulling away, I dip my head into the saddlebag with all of my potions—warmth and cooling potions, a liquid fire-starter, and a light rejuvenation potion, just to name a few—and retrieve a gift-wrapped box. “This here’s a gift for you and Bon-Bon. Open it when she gets home, and don’t worry; I even wrote instructions.”

Making my way over to Ice Blossom, I smile apologetically. “I’m sorry about how today has gone so far. What I did to Rainbow Dash was nothing short of the evil sorts of things I didn’t want to end up doing. You can punish me when I get back, but for now, I’m leaving you with that sample-box of chocolates I bought.” Having raided the box after my shower—peanut butter chocolates? I don’t know what you’re talking about; there were none in there!—I have no qualms about leaving it here. “It might be asking much, but could I have a kiss for luck?”

Instead of dignifying an answer, Blossom nuzzles my cheek before giving me a gentle peck on the end of my muzzle. “As angry as I am with you, I cannot deny you this,” she says affectionately. “I would be inconsolable if you were to die thinking I hate you. Be safe, Silver.”

Cantering toward the door, my spirits raised by that simple kiss, I can’t help but skip. Maybe today is going to be decent after all! “Alright Lyra, I’m trusting my loved one with you,” I say teasingly. “Try not to turn her into a pervert like you.” With that, I dash out the door.

“Wha? HEY!” she shouts from her cushioned resting place. “You’re the one that clopped in my bathroom! You’re the pervert!”

“Sorry! I can’t hear you over how awesome my marefriend is!”

With only my sunglasses, cloak, and potions in my saddlebags, my flight over Ponyville is mercifully unladen and undisturbed. It’s times like this that I am glad the world made me a pegasus. Flying over Ponyville, you don’t really have to worry about picking your way through the streets or whether or not the town actually thinks you’re evil after a stupid stunt that could have ruined somepony’s reputation. You just orient yourself, and ride the winds.

The town really is beautiful from up here. There’s something to be said about the rustic architecture, like something out of the past or a fantasy video game, that gives the impression of going back in time, and the closer I get to the edge of the Everfree Forest, the more I get the feeling of traveling further back in time. Each moment that passes, I am nearer to Fluttershy’s cottage, and the more spread out the buildings become.

Once the cottage is in sight, finding where Gale set up camp is easy. In a wooded glade not far from the cottage, the smoke of a campfire rises up from among the trees. As I spiral down, to land in her camp, I smell the delicious aroma of cooking meat. It’s a bit curious considering she hadn’t brought meat with her, but then again, we’re near the Everfree. She probably went for a little hunt or something.

“Hey there, you!” Gale greets, raising a haunch of... something, and waving it. “You have the directions?”

“Mmm, yeah,” I say, smacking my lips. I don’t know what that meat is, but it smells delicious. “I can’t believe you caught something already.” I look at the skinned remains, and the strips of meat hanging over the fire. “What is it?”

The griffoness smiles with that weird flexible beak of hers, and looks back at the bones and uncooked flesh on the ground. “Oh that?” she asks innocently. “Would you believe it used to be a two-headed bear? Thing came lumbering out of the Everfree and thought it might make a good snack.”

“I guess you showed him, huh?” I comment wryly, noticing the twin heads. “Mind if I get in on some of that meat you’ve got cooking there before we go off into the forest?”

“Dig in. Just remember not to ignore your fiber,” she replies, allowing a fleck of meat to hang off of the tip of her beak. “I don’t need to remind you of why.”

No, she doesn’t need to remind me of why I can’t just gorge on meat and ignore hay, flowers and whatnot. It’s not a nice thing when you have to go to an alchemy supply vendor in order to buy the ingredients for a potion that allows one to safely pass any blockage in their bowels, only for the clerk to recognize the recipe and comment on it. Worse, I really didn’t need to remember her reminiscence on how useful such a potion was in retrieving a lost toy. Ick!

“On second thought...”

Gale looks at me in surprise. “What?” she squawks incredulously. “You never turn down a bit of meat.”

Heaving a sigh, I plunk down on a log beside her. “I’ve lost my appetite for meat, at least for the time being,” I mumble. “This whole Ponyville thing has already gone to hell in a handbasket, and if I hadn’t already alienated the town beforehand, I definitely have now. The last thing I need is them to overreact to my... dietary choices. I’ve shown them that I’m a lunatic and that I can be a total sociopath already. Celestia forbid they add two, two, and three, only to get ‘Silver is a cannibalistic serial killer’ and run me out of town.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asks, resting a single talon on my withers. “You know I’ll listen.”

That actually forces me to pause. She certainly would listen to me if I started telling her these things. Heck, there’s not a doubt in my mind that she would offer her take on things. “You know how my biggest concern about coming back here was that pony Rainbow Dash?” I query, feeling disgusted with myself. “I ran into her today while I was looking for a pony I knew had the information I needed. Instead of telling her to fuck off and to stop being a punk about things that are in the past, I decided to be nothing short of a manipulative cunt...

“Not only did I pretend to be just a foal that she was bullying for no reason in an attempt to get the whole town to turn on her...” I stare at the dirt before me, unable to look at Gale. “I roped Blossom into the whole sham. Fuck, I got her involved in that evil fucking act, and what do I do? I reward her with a picked over box of chocolates and ask for a kiss before going into the forest of death.”

“I get it, you’re doing the self-loathing dick who doesn’t cope with stress schtick again,” she comments neutrally. “That doesn’t tell me why Ponyville might want to lynch you.”

Smacking a hoof against my forehead, I groan. “Oh the act worked fucking perfectly. The ponies in the market were fucking furious with Rainbow Dash. Even started throwing shit at her.” Finally, I look up at Gale. “I didn’t even think what I was doing was wrong until then...”

“So... what happened then?”

“I took every fucking hit and yelled at them all for being a bunch of sheep.” This draws an amused snort from my griffon companion. “I then insisted they all apologize to her, but seeing as I started the whole thing, they waited until I made my long-winded apology. Once everypony had apologized for being morons, Dash just flew off, and the pony I wanted to talk to left to see to Rainbow Dash.”

“You got the information though,” she notes.

“From Lyra...” I stomp my hooves. “What is wrong with me, Gale? Why would I do such an evil thing to her?”

“It’s ‘cause you’re an idiot.” There is no doubt in her tone. “You’re smart, but you’re a damn idiot, too. You overthink some things, and underthink others. When you get emotional, you stop thinking ahead, and act in the now. It’s just the way you are.

“Things’ll either work out, or they won’t,” she says dryly. “If you’re part of your friend Lyra’s herd like you said you are now, I doubt they’re going to run you out of town, as that would mean telling the rest of a herd—one that has a successful business in the town—that they aren’t welcome.” Upon recognizing my confusion, she smiles. “What? Just because I’m a gryphon, I can’t understand pony herd dynamics? Screw that. Part of folkloristics is being able to understand the context of stories. I wouldn’t be passing if I didn’t understand these things.”

“Sometimes, I hate you so goddamned much, you smug bugger.”

I’m not sure if the show ever accurately portrayed how creepy the Everfree forest actually is. Sure, the audience is told the place is creepy because it is completely outside of the utopian normalcy of Equestria. The weather in the Everfree is self-regulated, just like Earth. Ponies say it’s creepy because its wild weather and animals are unnatural and don’t follow the ‘natural’ order. Kind of ironic, all things considered.

While I agree that the forest is unnerving, my reasons are a bit more Earth-rational. Just looking at the trees around me, I have to restrain a shiver. Wood around me looks dead in a way that brings forth memories of the photos I once saw of Red Forest at Chernobyl. Only... despite looking dead, the trees are very much alive. One might go so far as to say that the trees are in a state of unlife, but that only makes the whole feeling exponentially worse.

What really makes the place creepy isn’t the monsters or the weather or the freaky undead trees. For anybody who has spent time in a forest back home, dangerous animals and unpredictable weather mean next to nothing. No, none of that matters at all. It’s the silence that is getting to me.

Back on Earth, if you walk into a forest, you’re bound to hear all sorts of sounds: the chirping of crickets; the buzzing of cicadas; the peeping of frogs; bird calls of every kind. You’d hear all of these things in addition to the creaking of trees in the wind, the whistle of leaves in the breeze, and any water sounds relevant to nearby sources. I know it sounds strange going into the Everfree forest expecting it to seem similar to a Terran forest, but I really did expect its wild nature to be similar to Earth.

Here, the only sounds are the groaning of wood, the trickle of water in a nearby stream, and our own footfalls. The silence rules all in this forest of the damned. There are no crickets to warn if danger is near, keeping the fur on the back of my neck almost fully erect. Even Gale, whom has been relatively calm aside from her earlier perversity, is bristling with wariness as we stride down the worn path through the forest.

Occasionally, other sounds make their way to us from deeper in the forest. A branch behind us will snap, or the bushes off to either side of the trail will rustle ominously. Every time this happens, I find myself subconsciously drawing closer to Gale and pressing against her side. She doesn’t say anything on the matter, but she extends her wing over me protectively nonetheless. The message is clear; I’m the smaller of the two of us, so if something comes after us, it’ll go after me first.

As if to accentuate that unspoken point, something impossibly large lumbers through the forest not fifty yards to our left. The thick mess of trees makes it impossible to see what it is, but the unholy stench of rotting flesh and the foreboding blood-red glow seeping through the gaps in the trees is enough to keep me from wandering too far from Gale. That bloody glow, bleeding through the trees like the anemic blood of some other-worldly thing, only accentuates the wrongness of this dark place, and drives us to move quickly and quietly along the path.

Whatever that thing is, it is just... wrong on a fundamental level. As long as that thing is nearby, there is just some malicious sense of terror hanging in the air around me, like everything that I am and everything that I will be might be consumed by whatever horror lies beyond the trees, leaving nothing but a fateless husk of a pony trembling beneath the wing of a griffon. That evil sensation presses against every core aspect of my mind, and it’s all I can do not to scream and wet myself in terror.

Even after the thing is gone and the glow has faded, I don’t stray from beneath the griffon’s protecting wing. I’d love to say something—anything—but the words just don’t come. This is neither the time nor the place for conversation—not when at any moment we could be beset by timber wolves or worse. Conversation would only attract unwanted attention.

As the minutes and hours pass, the forest grows darker and more disturbing. More than once, we’ve frozen on the spot at the sound of a snapping twig behind us. In our defense, it does seem rather suspicious that none of the times this has happened have we spotted any twigs upon turning around. The spooky forest of doom is definitely fucking with us, and I don’t like it one bit.

Much to my relief, we reach Zecora’s hut without incident. I allow myself a great sigh of relief when I spot the first tribal mask indicating the dwelling is near. “Thank fuck that is over,” I croak, noticing for the first time how dry my throat actually is. “Thankfully, we’ll be able to just fly out.”

Gale smooths her feathers before taking a moment to look at me. “No kidding,” she grumbles in an ill-humored voice. “The wildlands in the Griffon Kingdoms have nothing on this place.”

Unable to comment on her opinion, I instead caper out from beneath her wing and pick my way toward the hut’s door. If this forest weren’t so fucking creepy, I might even stop to look around the glade surrounding Zecora’s tree hut, but for all I know, there’s a venomous snake in that bush just to my left. Once in front of the door, I knock not once, but thrice.

“Who is knocking at my door, not on the hour, but fifteen more?” calls a sing-song voice from somewhere within the home.

Without even pondering my response, I reply, “We are scholars, numbering two. We come seeking knowledge from you.” I catch a strange look from Gale, but shrug it off.

The quick clopping of hooves approach the door, but when the door opens, a momentary look of disappointment crosses her striped face. Maybe it was wrong to pay her rhyme mind, and then to answer in kind. “Greetings, friends of great and small,” she greets, smiling warmly before stepping away from the door to allow us entry. “Stay a spell, won’t you all? Come with me into my hall.”

“Thank you, Zecora,” Gale says, quickly ducking inside Zecora’s doorway. “It’s far too creepy out there.”

The zebra leads us inside, and situates us on pillows before a fire, though the cauldron that usually occupies the middle of the room is nowhere in sight. “It’s no surprise you know my name,” she comments cheerfully, offering us both cups of some sort of herbal tea. “Of you both I can’t say the same.”

Sitting up, Gale nods politely at Zecora. “My name is Gale von Gilcrest, though I go simply as Gale,” she explains, offering a claw to shake the Zebra’s hoof. “I study folklore out of the university in Canterlot.”

To my surprise, Zecora chuckles, shaking Gale’s claw, causing one of her golden bracelets to jingle playfully. “A seeker of stories comes to hear my kind’s tale. You’ll find I have many that may leave you pale.” Turning to me, she offers a charming smile. “And what of you, diminutive one? Do you come seeking knowledge of a zebra’s fun?”

“I’m Silver Script, ma’am,” I answer politely, after taking a sip of the offered tea. “I came hoping to barter a potion recipe from you.”

The zebra smiles thoughtfully, sipping from her own cup. “A pony after my own heart,” she comments freely. “Though you seek knowledge I cannot lightly part.”

I frown slightly, even though I fully expected her not to freely divulge the information. “What sort of payment do you need? I have plenty of bits that are yours to take.”

With a shake of her head, Zecora frowns. “Of pony coins I see no end,” she says sadly. “My potion supplies, I’d rather append.”

Well fuck. this is something I didn’t see coming, even though I probably should have damn well expected it. She wants ingredients for potions, and probably rare ones at that. In other words, what she wants is something I do not have available to offer, and a payment plan she seems unlikely to proffer. Oh, and I’m starting to think in rhymes now.

“Well,” I say, finishing my tea. “It didn’t hurt to try. Thank you for your generosity, Zecora, but I’ll wait outside.”

“Certainly child, but stay close or alarm,” she warns direly. “In this dark forest you’ll come to much harm.”

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting out here. It could have been hours, or simply minutes. The place doesn’t readily allow the conveyance of time, and I’ve never had the common sense to carry around a pocket watch. Even on Earth when I had a cell phone, I’d only have its clock available to me if I actually had the phone. Here in Equestria, I simply learned to tell time by solar and lunar positioning—not that it does me any good out here beneath the forest canopy.

Adding to the problem, I occasionally catch glances of things moving in the underbrush. Timber wolves—there’s no doubt about it. I still remember the first time I actually spotted one of the wooded beasts. It’s rather hard to forget that moment where what I thought was a tree stump turned around and crept across the far edge of the clearing, one anemic green eye watching me the whole time. Since then, the odd one can be spotted in the bushes just staring at me. They never do enter the clearing proper. Something about Zecora’s place has them spooked.

Occasionally, when I rest my head against the door, I hear small portions of the zebra’s stories. Strangely enough, many of them start with Zecora talking about one silly zebra or another, and I can’t help but be reminded of something. Try as I might, though, I can never remember what it is her stories are reminding me of. Even stranger, despite the cheery start to each story about a silly zebra, they all often end rather darkly.

Somewhere off in the distance, I hear something scream. Oh sure, it could be some Everfree wildlife getting frisky, but this place is far too silent otherwise. Regardless of the what the sound is, I feel my fur standing on end. Dancing from side to side, my eyes sweep the clearing, looking for any sign of danger. There’s... nothing! All the timberwolves are all gone, and if the forest had sounded quiet before, you could hear a pin drop at a thousand yards now.

“Somethings not right,” I mutter to myself. I pick myself up off of the ground before the doorway. Looking around once again, I tap the door three times with a back hoof. “Something’s not right, you two.”

There’s a commotion inside for a quick moment before light spills out across the glade from the now-open doorway. “Something hungry for young flesh and bones,” Zecora whispers in a condemnatory tone. “Get inside before in on you it zones.”

“What?” Gale squawks in confusion. “What’s coming?”

I tune out the other two as I stare into the darkness. Something’s moving on the path ahead. The clip-clop of hooves in a full run reaches my ears, and again I am reminded of how light they are. A foal is running through these here woods... and if the snapping of branches and the sound of something creeping through the woods are any indicator, something is chasing that pony.

As the sounds become clearer, I can just make out a pony on the path. Completely gray, messy fur and mane, and glasses... “Silver Spoon, this way!” I shout, rearing up onto my hind legs and waving. “It’s safe here!”

The filly shrieks, veering off into the bushes. For just a moment I catch sight of the monster giving chase. At first, I don’t believe my eyes. With that serpentine body and equine front, there’s no mistaking a lamia. “But... that thing is huge!” I whisper aloud, watching the serpentine horror—the size of an eighteen wheeler, no less—veer off in the same direction.

“Silver, don’t...” Gale says, and for a quick second, I could swear I feel her claws on my tail. None of that matters; she never had a chance to grab me. “Silver, wait!”

I take off at a full sprint, making my way to the edge of the clearing where I saw the pair vanish. Even if the bespectacled gray filly wasn’t pounding her hooves into the dirt hard enough to leave hoofprints, the trail of broken branches, wrecked bushes, and huge hoofprints the lamia leaves in her wake is more than enough for me to follow.

By the time my legs begin to ache, I have no idea where I am. Who knows how long I’ve been following the trail? Am I going north, south, east, or west? What if this filly is running in circles? Ooh look: a shiny! Wait... those are pearls scattered across the ground! Didn’t Silver Spoon have a pearl necklace? Ew! Bad brain. Don’t think like that!

“Wait... what was that?” I hiss under my breath. There was a loud thump just now, and now I can hear something thrashing around just ahead. I slow down to a crawl when I come close to a clearing. Up ahead, the lamia is pressed up against a rock wall, her head lodged in some sort of cave, only I don’t think it’s stuck. It’s almost like the creature sees something it wants in that cave—or somepony.

“Come with me, young filly,” the pony snake croons almost erotically. “I will show you... mmm... eternity.”

Good, so the serpent hasn’t gotten Silver Spoon yet. Now... there’s no way I can reasonably fight a creature the size of a semi. Now, scare it off? Maybe... But how? I stare at that tail, that green, diamond patterned mass of scales, and wonder what might scare the half-pony creature. Sure, the front end of it doesn’t seem to be covered by armored scales, but who knows just how tough that yellow-green hide is? How dangerous would that mane even be? Oh well, if it comes down to it, I could just set it on fire, right?

Hold on a minute. Fire? I’m carrying around a couple of liquid fire-starters in my saddlebag. For all intents and purposes, I’m walking around with firebombs in my bag right? The moment that alchemical mixture comes into with contact organic matter, it combusts rather violently. There’s a reason you don’t drink these things after all! So, if I threw one of these at that giant lamia,. I might scare it off. Sure, it might just piss the thing off, but that only happens in movies!

Pulling one of the test-tubes from my saddlebag, I grin to myself before lifting myself into the air. “Oi! Snakeskin boots!” I yell, hefting the incendiary in my hoof. Good, she’s no longer lodged in the cave. Instead, it turns and rises up on its coils like a cobra. Not so good, she’s staring right at me, now. Welp, here goes nothing! “Come get me, motherfucker!”

“Oooh, a tasty morsel!” the lamia hisses, baring some very pointy and likely highly venomous fangs at me. “I don’t usually consume grown mares, but you look absolutely divine.”

The lamia is in motion no sooner than the words have left her lips. Just like a snake, she lashes out with her head, trying to snatch me out of the air. While it’s the sort of thing that somebody could predict, I barely make it out of the way in time. It’s not that I’m pudgy, or slow. I’m actually pretty quick considering I have a small body. The problem is that because of my size, my wings don’t generate as much lift as a fully grown pegasus.

Where I once hovered above the ground, the lamia’s face is now filling with dirt. “That’s probably not as tasty as this, split-tongue!” I taunt, smacking my bottom as I jet up in the air. “C’mon, whassamatta? Feelin’ like the dirty snake you are?”

Once miss Fangs n’ Snakeskin is up from her sampling of the forest floor, she once again alights her eyes on me. “Oh I am going to enjoy this!” the creature croons, tracking me as I lazily float backwards along the trail of destruction. “Come back, little mare! I just want to hug you!”

The lamia follows me back onto the trail, and even though the tips of my feathers are brushing the foliage above me, I don’t once break eye contact. “Say, I was wondering...” I ask in a distracting tone. The test-tube is still sitting comfortably balanced on my hoof, but now’s the time to see just how well I can throw underhoof. “I’ve always wanted to make out with a giant snake lady before, but I can’t really stand the smell of snake. Think you could—EAT FIREBOMB, CUNT!”

I swing my hoof forward, launching the container into a low arc, straight for the serpent’s face. Much to my amusement, the thing just stared in confusion as the fire-starter flies at its face. That confused expression quickly explodes into agonized shrieks as its muzzle and cheeks burst into bright blue flame. The fire-starter works too well as a firebomb, because a column of blue flame shoots up through the tree-line. For a quick minute I worry that I’ve just caught the whole forest on fire, but nothing else catches. “You’re going to regret that, pony! I will END you!”

Blinded by the blue alchemical fire in front of her eyes, the lamia surges forth, flailing her forelegs hoping to smash me to the ground where she might crush me. Such a plan could probably work too, except for my timely change in altitude, breaking into the foliage above. It’s all I can do not to snicker as beast cuts another swath of destruction through the forest.

Instead, I wait until the sounds of the creature’s destructive exit fade away before I drop out of the canopy. I mean, you never know how well something that size can hear. For all I know, that thing can feel vibrations in the ground for miles. It’d be terrible for me to send the gigantic lamia packing only for it to come back and eat me.

“Nope! Not thinking about that, especially when there’s a scared filly in the cave a few yards away,” I mutter aloud, dropping out of the foliage and back onto the path. Standing out here in the open—in this wanton swath of wooded destruction—only makes me feel exposed. It’s hard not to think about those timber wolves that had been watching me, or that gigantic glowing thing out there.

Picking my way back to that rock wall and the cave, I can’t help but wonder about that monstrosity. “What was that thing, anyway? What would it do to a—” My musings fall silent as some glass object cracks beneath my hoof. “Please don’t let it be her glasses, please don’t let it be her glasses,” I chant, worriedly lifting my hoof. As the blunted appendage ascends, a blue plastic frame peeks out from below, shards of glass jutting out at odd angles. Just as I am about to take full credit for the destruction of the filly’s glasses, something to the right of me catches my attention—the other half of her glasses.

Well shit, Silver Spoon, looks like you’re going to be without glasses for a while. I don’t bother to pick up either half of the spectacles. Without tape, I can’t possibly hope to repair those them for the filly anyhow. It’s not safe, so keep moving. Just get to the cave; it’s not far now.

The cave mouth looms over me, but even from here, I can see it’s not too deep—just enough to cast shadows and hide a scared filly from a great serpent. The inside is probably the size of a small hotel room, with a low ceiling. Heck, with a ceiling this low, it’s probably the only reason that truck-sized monster didn’t get the filly.

Stepping into the cave, I call out, “Silver Spoon! It’s alright to come out now, Silver Spoon.” There’s no response to my calls. “It’s okay, hon, the monster’s gone!” I stop to listen for any response, but nothing comes. Did she scarper after the lamia went after me? Did something else get her? “Damn! She was just in here!” I mutter, hanging my head in disappointment.

Just as I’m about to turn and leave, I hear a weak groan from the far corner of the cave. Perking my ears in that direction, I listen once more. “Dia... mond? Is that... you?” a weak voice calls out.

As my eyes adapt to the low light of the cave, I can make out more details. There, under a small overhang is the huddled form of a filly. As I make my way over, I can barely see her sides rising and falling. The kid must be exhausted after being chased by that thing and running around the Everfree for who knows how long. “Sorry kiddo, I’m not your friend, but I’ve met her. She really misses you,” I say, trying to keep her talking.

“Tell her... tell her I’m sorry,” she rasps. For one moment, she looks like she’s struggling to rise, but failing to do so, she slumps back down onto the ground. “Tell my mom and dad... and uncle Clear...”

“You can tell them yourself, Silver Spoon,” I say dismissively. The kid’s talking like she thinks she’s going to die or something; of course if you give up on living, you’re not going to survive, so I’ve gotta nip that in the bud fast. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll see.”

A visible shudder wracks the filly’s prone form. “S-s-so c-cold!”

I frown at that comment. Of course she’d be cold. She’s been out in the forest for Celestia knows how long, running for her life, and probably unable to find any food. If it’s rained at all these past few days, she’s probably damp and cold. Hell, she probably has hypothermia. Sure enough, pressing the frog of my hoof against the little gray filly’s forehead yields an ice-cold coat.

“Silver Spoon, I’ve got something to help you keep warm, but you have to trust me,” I say, dipping my head into the designated potion bag. I pull out a test tube and pop off the top. Pressing it to her lips, I try to reassure her. “It might not taste the best, but it works.”

To my relief, she greedily drinks the potion down without complaint. No great surprise there—she’s probably dehydrated, too. A few minutes of silence pass before she responds. “Wow... I feel warmer already.”

I smile slightly. She’s probably not going to be able to walk any time soon, but she’s probably not at risk of hypothermic shock now. Still... I gotta get her to a steady source of heat. At least I have another fire-starter in my bag. “I’m going to make a fire, alright? The only thing is that I’m going to have to move you...”

Yeah, so the tail of a filly who has been running around a dirty forest and apparently pissing herself in fear really doesn’t taste that great. She was dignified enough not to complain as I dragged her across the cave floor by it, for which I’m grateful for, but I don’t think me leaving her to gather some firewood pleased her any. I still remember the undignified whine she made when I just left her in the middle of the cave with my cloak draped over her. At least she’s grateful for the fire.

“So why did you run when I waved to you earlier?” I ask, sliding the non-potion portion side of my saddlebags beneath her head. “I reckon Zecora’s hut is probably the safest place in this whole forest.”

There’s an almost imperceptible flinch from Silver Spoon. “There was a griffon...”

Oh, of course! A little rich girl would be afraid of a softie like Gale. She doesn’t know any better, and that whole thing with Gilda probably didn’t help. “Gale’s harmless,” I say, trying to forget the two-headed bear that she apparently eviscerated earlier. “She’s one of my best friends, and she’s probably looking for us both right now.”

That’s probably actually not completely accurate. Gale’s got her fierce side, but she’s not crazy-stupid like me. Seeing a thing like that, she’s more likely to go get help, especially seeing as there’s a guard contingent in town specifically for things of this nature. She always uses her brain for more than a feather rack. Still, it’s good to give her hope.

“You said Diamond Tiara misses me,” Silver Spoon groans, flicking her lilac eyes toward me. “I thought she’d be angry... that I abandoned her.”

I smile kindly, brushing her messy mane out of her eyes with a feather. “She probably was, originally,” I answer softly, glancing at the mouth of the cave. “You should have seen her when she tackled me at the train station. She was so sure I was you, that she was literally in tears. You mean a lot more to her than you—” I watch out of my peripheral vision as something crosses in front of the mouth of the cave. “Did you see that?”

“N-no,” she whimpers.

“Braaaawk!” Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.

Very slowly, I turn my back completely to the cave entrance, leaning very close to Silver Spoon’s ear. “I need you to do exactly what I say,” I whisper firmly. “In the saddlebag under your head is a pair of reflective sunglasses. I want you to put those on, and not take them off until I say so.” She snorts in protest, but she never gets an opportunity to object. “Just do it! That’s a cockatrice out there, and if you look directly in its eyes without any sort of protection, you’re done for.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll think of something,” I mutter, screwing my eyes shut. “I didn’t scare off that lamia just to get us both turned into stone, after all! Oh! One last thing.” I pause for dramatic tension. “This might get a bit violent.”

I also have an advantage that a cockatrice doesn’t; I can see without my eyes. Flaring open my wings, I feel for the air currents around me. Right in front of me is the fire, pulling in air like a black hole. Mentally, I follow that air flow backwards, tracing the outline of Silver Spoon’s resting form, and then skipping over it, I visualize the cave’s mouth. Sure enough, when I overlay the image projected into my mind by the Wind Sight, I’m greeted by the outline of a bat-winged creature with the tail of a serpent and the head of a chicken.

Turning around, I step over Silver Spoon and step toward the creature. “Get out of here!” I growl. “There’s nothing here for you but death!”

There’s no surprise when the cockatrice steps forward instead of fleeing. The warning is more for my own benefit than anything else. After all, I’m going to defend this filly or die trying, because I did not distract that fucking lamia for this. If it comes down to it, I will tear this thing limb from limb and dance in its entrails.

A clucking sound escapes the creature’s throat in what I assume is supposed to represent a threat, but you just can’t intimidate someone with chicken noises when they aren’t alektorophobic. When I don’t react to its call, it steps forward once more, flaring its wings out threateningly and clawing at the ground.

“Sorry, Chick-fil-A, your special eyes don’t work on me,” I say mockingly, stomping my hoof. “It must not be my brand.”

The grumble from that thing almost sounds offended, but it quickly becomes a squawk of rage as it lunges forward. In a surprising burst of speed, the thing is in front of me in no time at all. Instead of backing up or dodging as it lashes out with one of its claws, I rear up onto my back hooves and throw a blind punch. My hoof fails to connect with anything.

Wincing, I ignore the sensation of the creature’s talons tearing through muscle on the side of my rib cage. Once more, I throw a punch—a right cross this time—and pray for the best. I let out a gleeful cry as my hoof strikes the cockatrice in the side of the skull, sending it staggering. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Instead of turning back to face me, it sends itself into a full turn, lashing out at me with its spiny tail. Pain once more lances through me as the creature’s tail tears up my side. This time, however, it is too much for me to simply ignore; I cry out in pain. “Oh... you’re really starting to piss me off!”

Instead of coming at me once more, however, the cockatrice makes a go at Silver Spoon, whom I can no longer actually see in my perception of the air current. Big mistake! With no other choice, I wrench open my eyes, and leap at the cockatrice. “You don’t have permission to go after her, feather brain! Come get some!”

The monster ducks, but only manages to partially avoid my tackle. Once I feel underbelly slam into the back of its head, I beat my wings to hold me in place. From that point in mid air, I lash out with my hind legs, wrapping them firmly around the cockatrice’s neck before slamming my hooves firmly over its eyes.

Immediately, my foe lets out a strangled cry, throwing itself onto the ground in an attempt to batter me off of it. No matter how hard it tries, or how many times it slams my head against the ground, I won’t let go. I keep on riding the writhing beast, grinning through bared teeth. The longer it tries to fight, the more tired it seems to get, but seeing as I’m literally choking it with my legs, that’s hardly surprising.

Leaning down, I whisper to the beast, “Yippee-ki-yay, mother clucker!” Holding my forehooves firmly against its head, I wrench my hips hard in one direction, and am immediately rewarded with a satisfying crunch. Any fight the creature may have been putting up before is quickly put to rest.

I stare at the fallen cockatrice, feeling a mix of pride and disgust. This is the largest thing I’ve ever killed before, and it’s a bit bigger than me. What do I do with it though? Well, I read somewhere that parts of a cockatrice have some interesting alchemical properties, so surely I could use this to barter with Zecora for that recipe. At the same time, though, I also sorta want to take a trophy or something. This is, after all, a good kill.

“Is it over?” Silver Spoon rasps after a full minute of silence.

“Yeah,” I wheeze, feeling the pain from my injuries catching up to me, even as I drag the corpse over to the same overhang that I removed Silver Spoon from. “Just... don’t look at what I’ve gotta do.” I eye a heavy but sharp looking rock nearby.

She almost sounds afraid to ask. “Why?”

“Miss!” Silver Spoon’s cry jerks me out of a doze.

Shit! I fell asleep! “What’s up?” I ask, pulling myself to my hooves. It’s a bit of a struggle; after getting my trophy and walling off the remains with stones, I was so exhausted I was barely able to get bandages out of the miniature first-aid kit in my saddlebag. After that, I must have passed out from exhaustion. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Somepony’s coming!” she exclaims, unable to rise. “Listen!”

I look to the cave mouth, but it’s totally dark out, now. There is more light here inside the cave than there is outside. Just how late is it now? If there’s anybody out there, I certainly can’t see them. Like the filly said though, there is definitely someone—not a something, for a change—out there.

“I’m telling you AJ, this has to be where I saw that blast of blue flame shoot out of the forest!” a voice calls out. “And look! There’s blue light coming from over there!”

“Well, Ah do reckon if somepony were alive out here, they’d hole up in a cave for the night,” another voice answers. “This here’s not the end of this trail though! Ah’m just sayin’ y’all should be lookin’ durin’ the day! This don’t feel right!”

“Silver Script might not have a day, and neither does that other filly running around out here!” A third voice, unmistakably Gale, practically shouts. “I’m not leaving her out here, alive or dead, or Ice Blossom will never forgive me.”

The second voice is Applejack to a T, but is the other really who I think it is? Why would she come all the way out here? After what happened earlier, it makes no sense that Rainbow Dash would come for me—well, without a knife, anyways. I’m a bad pony who deserves her anger.

Ignoring that for now, I look to Silver Spoon. “Sounds like a search party, I’m going to go flag them down,” I explain reassuringly. “Just keep close to the fire and you should be safe.”

Confident that she isn’t going to run off—given how exhausted she is, I don’t really expect her too—I grab a tree-branch from a pile of wood I collected for the fire, and, holding it in my mouth, dip the end into the fire until it catches. Once I have my torch, I turn to the cave mouth and walk out, into the darkness.

Right off the bat, I know not to dally. There are plenty of fresh tracks—timber wolf, if I had to guess—around the cave mouth, and plenty of spots where it looks like things have simply sat just outside the entrance, possibly watching us. If things were bold enough to get that close when it’s just two small ponies around a fire, then they might think Silver Spoon is easier prey.

“Gale! Applejack! Rainbow Dash!” I shout around the torch as I run down the trail. Around the first bend, not far from where I remember spotting the pearls, I spot the orange glow of a lantern. In that light I spot a wagon pulled by the orange cowpony, and lead by Gale and Rainbow Dash. “This way, and hurry!”

The three of them hurry to meet up with me, and no sooner than they are near am I set upon by Gale. “What were you thinking you moron?” she shouts, tackling me and knocking my torch to the side. “Going after a gigantic lamia like that! You could have been killed! Do you have any idea how worried I was?” She looks me over in the light, and frowns. “Look! You even got yourself hurt!”

I try to push the griffon off of me, but fail miserably. “I’m fine! It was only a cockatrice! Nothing I can’t handle.” I wheeze from beneath my friend. “Let me up! We need to get Silver Spoon to a doctor.”

“Ya found her?” Applejack asks. “Where is she?”

“Back at the cave.” I manage to squeeze out from beneath Gale. Snatching my torch back up, I move ahead of the group “Follow me.”

There’s no conversation as the three of us pick our way back along the path, as there’s hardly anything to say with a filly in a cave. Even when I feel compelled to talk, every time I glance back, Applejack glances awkwardly between me and Rainbow Dash, while Gale keeps looking like she wants to hug me and throttle me. In laymans terms, this isn’t the right time to ask why AJ and Dashie came into the forest.

Back in the cave, Applejack and Dash are quick to haul Silver Spoon up onto the wagon and put out my alchemical flame. In the meantime, I retrieve my saddlebags before leading Gale over to the corner where I hid the body. “Gale, I trust these two to get me back to town safely, so I need you to do something for me.”

The griffon stares at me, her eyes glinting in the dimness. “Silver, it’s really late, can’t this wait?”

I shake my head and motion for her to lean down. “Hidden behind this pile of rocks is a dead cockatrice.” My tone is completely grim. “I want you to wait until we’re gone, and take that to Zecora and offer it as payment for the recipe of that sex-change potion she gave Pinkie Pie last year.”

“What,” she squawks. “You killed a cockatrice?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “Oh, hold onto the head in the jar though. That’s mine.”

A look crosses her face, like she doesn’t know whether to be worried or impressed. “Trophy?”

I just grin before dipping into my saddlebag and pulling out my compass. “Take this compass. It’ll lead you straight to Zecora’s so long as you focus on it.” At her confused look, I elaborate, “Only seems to work if you’ve been somewhere, or if you know the location on a map. Take it. That way you can just fly over the forest and not risk any of those ghoulies out there.”

Taking the compass from me, she puts its cord around her neck. “I’m only doing this so I can get you out of this place,” she says with a sigh. “Blossom cares about you too much for me to let this go on. She’s probably worried to death about you already.”

Shit. I didn’t even think about that. What’s that say about me? That I have a one-track mind? That I have attention deficit disorder? I’m pretty sure I was supposed to sit down for dinner with Blossom, Lyra, and Bon-Bon, too. “Yeah... Maybe you have a point. I’ll get going now.”

I scamper back over to the wagon, where Applejack has been fussing over Silver Spoon’s sleeping form. “Y’all did good, sugarcube,” she comments. “Might be a bit weak, but whatever ya did kept her alive this far.”

Instead of responding, I look to Rainbow Dash. “Gale’s got more business with Zecora, so she’ll be flying out on her own,” I say loudly. “So if we’re going, we best get moving before it gets any later.”

“So what brought the two of you into the forest anyway?” I ask, trotting beside Applejack, as she tows the wagon. I could have chosen to ride up with Silver Spoon, but in spite of my pain, hunger, and exhaustion, I can’t bring myself to stop moving. Feels too vulnerable. “I mean, I figured you went to comfort Dash there after I... did that horrible thing to her. So how did you end up out here?”

Chuckling at some unspoken joke, Applejack spares me a sidelong grin. “Tell ya true, sugarcube, Ah don’t rightly know,” she answers in that disarming tone of honesty. “Ah comforted her, sure as rain, an’ then Ah went back to tending mah stall. She comes ‘round a few hours later with yer griffon friend in tow spoutin’ off about balls o’ fire, missin’ fillies, an’ giant Everfree critters. Might’a been stalkin’ ya fer all Ah know.”

“I wasn’t stalking her, AJ!” Rainbow Dash answers almost far too quickly. “I was just doing recon. You know, making sure she didn’t get into trouble... and looking for a chance to give her a piece of my mind.”

Applejack gives Dash a sarcastic look that doesn’t need any words. “Wasn’t sayin’ ya weren’t,” she says, playfully. “Regardless, twas fortunate she was in any case.” Turning back to me, Applejack offers a worried look. “Y’all sure ya don’t wanna ride up here with Silver Spoon? Cain’t be easy walkin’ all banged up like that.”

“It’s noth—” I freeze on the spot. Something’s moving out there. Branches off somewhere in the distance are snapping and cracking, and the sounds are only drawing closer. Up ahead, the others also draw to a stop, having heard the sound too. “Oh no...”

“You are mine, pegasus!” something shouts. After another minute, the treeline to my right explodes into a shower of splinters. Standing before me, burned but very much alive, is the same lamia I decoyed earlier. “I’m going to enjoy showing you eternity, child.”

Like before, the lamia launches itself at me like a missile. Unlike last time, however, there is no chance for me to dodge. I’m too stunned and too tired to get out of the way. There’s barely enough energy left in me to vocalize the last thing going through my mind.

“Son of a bit—”

Author's Notes:

Howdy Folks. Seven Fates here with a really big chapter—the longest in this fic, in fact. I know you all were probably expecting to see less updates over a longer period of time, but what can I say? This is a chapter that I've been waiting to write for <i>ages</i>—since I started thinking about this story, to be honest—so once I got started on the meaty bits, I just couldn't stop myself. This whole time, it's been undergoing near constant revisions in my head, but given the way it came out, I wouldn't change a thing. At one point, Silver found Spoon completely by accident. But seriously, who finds adventure just by falling in a hole? At one point, Silver was even slated to beat the cockatrice to a bloody mess with a rock. That seemed, however, too gruesome for something she'd be doing in front of filly. Much less so than simply breaking its neck and dragging it into the darkness to decapitate it.

This week, I need to give a shout-out to all the folks who edited for me. E3gner, Vilcor, NightmareKnight, and DarkxRedemption. Y'all did terrific this time around.