Rainsford sat on the ground in pure confusion. He had nearly killed Trixie, and she was going back up to the mansion? This made less and less sense to Rainsford until he finally dropped the topic with himself and decided to just find a place for the night. It was still fairly early in the day, but Rainsford certainly didn't want to stay in the same place after what had just happened. And with that, he set off across the island to see what he could find.
It was a rather long hike to a place he did not know of, but it was well worth the walk itself when he remembered the reason he wanted to go here in the first place. The scenery was now much more enjoyable now that Trixie was gone, and Rainsford had a little fun to himself then, through the dense, green jungle.
Well, that is until he stumbled upon a swamp. He knew it might be dangerous, so he simply tried avoiding it. 'Simply' turned out to be 'strenuously' very quickly after he found that he could not move his hoof from the sand it was now in. Rather than simply pulling out, it only created enough suction to pull it in even further.
"Quicksand!" Rainsford exclaimed.
Quickly recalling some of the survival tactics that he had gained from his previous hunting trips before panicking, he slowly leveled out his body to a lying position, finding himself gently floating to the surface of the muck, where he could then shimmy his way out with an army crawl.
After several minutes of trudging through the messy sludge, he finally beached himself on the bank of sand beside him. He ignored the mess dripping down his body as he waddled closer to the jungle again. That gave Rainsford an idea... So he went into the jungle and started to dig.

When he was finished with his long period of cramped hooves and sore legs, he finally came up with a cylindrical pit about a meter in diameter and two meters in depth, all carved out of the clay-like soil he was in. Step one was done. The walls held together rather well, so Rainsford decided that he was finished and climbed out of his pit. He then gathered several sticks and his hunting knife, and found a way to whittle them to a fine point. Afterwards, he jammed them point-side up into the bottom of the pit. Part two was done.
Rainsford scavenged the forest floor further, this time to find flimsier twigs. He wove them together in a basket-like formation, placed it over the opening to the pit, then started coating it with leaves and soil. Part three was now done, which left Rainsford with the final part in his plan: Wait. He quickly covered up his tracks, then dove into a nearby bush.
He was rather tired by this point, and decided that it would be best to sleep it out and wait until tomorrow. And with that single choice, Rainsford fell into a deep sleep right in the bush.

Rainsford awoke in his bush to the sound of light trotting, which was slowly growing louder by the step. It was a very quick step, light too; this hinted to Rainsford that Trixie might not be alone this time. If it was her, that is. He had no time to check; whoever it was, it was picking up Rainsford's tracks effortlessly.
Closer. Closer it came to him; and, more importantly, his trap. The sound was fairly loud by now, giving Rainsford's heart rate enough time to climb to a number higher than he would have ever bothered to count.
The anticipation on Rainsford's part was absolutely unbearable, for he could not see things, but only hear. But what little he could hear brought thought of victory to him; the twigs holding the trap set gave way, dropping its victim down to the bottom of the pit, allowing the sharpened sticks to meet their mark. The shrill scream of pain echoed throughout the area, then stopped. Rainsford had to resist any urge to jump up and celebrate, for he did not yet know if the trap had claimed its proper victim. He knew it didn't when he heard the sound of sarcastic clopping of hooves, followed by another voice speaking up.
"Congratulations, Rainsford. Your makeshift tiger pit claimed one of my best hunting dogs."
Rainsford did his best to refrain from standing up and objecting in rage, but he knew that he only had a hunting knife and she could have a much more potent weapon, resulting in a foolish attack. He continued to hide, not making a move or sound. It was hard to do, especially because Trixie spent the next five minutes doing a light search of the area. Rainsford was lucky to not to be caught, and he was well aware of his luck when Trixie scanned right over the bush he was hiding in. The wait was nearly unbearable, but patience paid off, because soon after, Trixie was gone and Rainsford was safe. Well, just for the moment.
He clamored his way out of the confined grasp of the bushes to find that the day was not over with Trixie just yet. Scrawled out in the mud, just a few feet from where the trap was, were the words "I WILL RETURN". Rainsford pondered at this, mainly because he could have already guessed this.
He ventured further around the shore for a good shore in search of food, and by a stroke of luck, found a berry bush at the base of the mountain. He started eating the tart fruit off the plant and was about ready to stop before he saw another figure in the misty distance. Rainsford looked closer to find that there was actually two figures, one of which was much larger than the other. This hinted to him that this time, Trixie had brought her bodyguard, Zaroff.
This sent Rainsford into a state of panic, and so he started to run. He heard behind his trail an outraged voice say "AFTER HIM!!!"
Rainsford looked back after a few strides to find that it was just Zaroff chasing after him. That was some sort of good news for Rainsford, but not much. While he was looking back, a stray branch slapped him across the back of the head. He ignored the pain that came from it, mostly because it gave him an idea.
He faced forward again and continued to run, looking for more stray branches along the way while pulling out his hunting knife. Along the way, he found another small vine that he could use. He had to make a trap, and he had to make it fast.
Rainsford skidded to a stop when he spotted a nice, overhanging branch, and quickly strapped his knife to the loose end of it. He checked back to his chaser to find that he only had about a minute before he would be killed by Zaroff.
Rainsford quickly drew back the branch with the knife on it, fastened one end of a tripwire to it, and the other to a nearby tree, ready to swing out and stab whoever was careless enough to not notice it. Zaroff didn't seem to, and that was good news for Rainsford. He slowly backed out of the way of the trap, keeping his eyes on Zaroff the entire time.
Zaroff neared the trap, coming into full view to Rainsford. His appearance was far more intimidating when he was charging at you, Rainsford found.
Zaroff was seconds away from activating the trap. Rainsford's heart grew faster and faster with each step he took, leaving him with a jackhammer in his chest by the time Zaroff activated it.
It was a careless stumble on his part that had a lethal effect: The vine that he had stepped over snapped under the weight of his massive body, releasing the loose branch and the knife that was attached to soaring in a sideways arc, careening directly into Zaroff's face. The initial effect was shocking on Rainsford's part, for he had never killed another pony before. It was also shocking for the last few milliseconds of Zaroff's life, for he did not expect such a skilled defensive trap.
The knife lodged itself directly in his skull, causing the agonizing sound of bone breaking and body failing to fill the area as Zaroff tumbled to the ground, dead before his landing. Blood was smeared all over his caved-in face, as well as the knife, branch, and now the dirt. It had started to form a small puddle of pure red that was now seeping into the ground.
Rainsford held down his stomach and dislodged the knife from Zaroff's mangled face, brutally letting him bleed as he ran back to the shore with the knife now back in his possesion. He was going to meet Trixie one last time.

Trixie stretched out her legs while lying down on her bed, ready for a long rest after killing Rainsford; she felt as though she deserved a hearty nap. She poured herself a small glass of wine and was about to go to bed before she heard hoofsteps down the hallway. She panicked and her heart rate spiked.
BOOM! The door leading into Trixie's bedroom splintered open in an explosion of wood, revealing Rainsford to be standing behind it, who had just given the door a potent buck. He turned around to confront Trixie, who had a dumbfounded look on her face.
"How did you...? This means that Zaroff is DEAD?!? IMPOSSIBLE!!!" She stammered.
"Possible. Zaroff was dead the second you left the scene. That's why he never returned here." Rainsford replied.
Trixie tried to calm herself and solve the situation. "Then, in that case, congratulations. You won the game."
"It was only two days." Rainsford flatly stated.
She had nothing left to say; nothing left to do. "Hold on a second." Trixie said as she walked over towards the bedroom closet. She came back moments later with two swords, and tossed one at Rainsford. "I challenge you to one final duel. The loser will be fashioned into a feast for my hunting dogs; the winner will rightfully claim this mansion as their own and sleep in my bed. Ready, Rainsford? On guard!"

Rainsford decided that Trixie's bed was the best he ever slept in.