Gear Catchby LucidTechChaptersA Shot in Time Saves OneStuttering GearsStanding OfferA Shot in Time Saves OneIt was calming. The soft ticking that kept the time of the day, marking the passing seconds, winding the large sniper rifle that was more or less invisible to onlookers behind the cover of leaves. The pulsing rhythm was louder than the owner would have liked, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It had yet to get him noticed, and more often than not it would be the last thing his enemies heard, only aware of the sound after it was no longer there. The void drawing more attention than the sound that had been there. His breath was the only other noise, much quieter than the clock-like beat that held the air. The inhales and exhales were loud in his ears, but it had always been during this work. It told him his heart rate, his general health, it kept him focused, and it told him when he was about to shoot someone. But he usually knew that last one before he pulled the trigger. The scope portrayed the scene below vividly, a master work of long range sight that the man had put great pride in, far more than what it was attached to anyway. A wolf made of discarded tree branches pursued it’s prey, a horse of some sort, multi-colored, screaming. He had seen them quite a bit since his arrival in this strange place, they seemed to be the dominant species, given their intelligence, their towns, and their societies in general. Of course, the man hadn’t bothered to approach any of them. He knew immediately he would be unwelcome here, he could feel it in the air, in his bones. He was unwelcome by the very air and dirt, an alien hated by every manner of object that called this odd place home. Except for here, in this forest. A place considered chaotic by the inhabitants, taboo if nothing else. And it fit him like a glove. He watched the chase coldly from behind his weapon of judgement. Following the duo in their relentless pursuit through the trees. The wolf was closing the distance, slowly. He traced the action, not too engaged by the outcome but knowing full well he would save the pony should she need it. Well, he assumed it was a she, it seemed a safe bet judging by the build. Then she tripped and the wolf pounced immediately, it sailed high through the air, allowing the pony enough time to spin and look up at her attacker. A muscle reflex shot through the sniper. The man watched through his scope as the beast was taken out by his well aimed headshot, but more intently he watched as the pony’s expression changed from fear to confusion. The ticking had stopped, but he doubted that she noticed, given her hectic run only moments ago. He pulled back the bolt action and locked the next bullet in place, knowing that there may be other of the monsters nearby, he had a few moments of residual energy still, perhaps a second shot would scare away a group if they attacked, if not... well... The monsters of timber seemed to hunt in packs on some days, but he didn’t know what circumstances caused the camaraderie, and he wished he did. It would have been very helpful a few nights ago when he had abandoned his old camp at the sight of one of the creatures, knowing he could take down one but that a pack would tear him to shreds. He watched as she stood, limping slightly on one of her legs. Probably just a pulled muscle, a break seemed unlikely. She struggled on through the woods, but her manic random glances at her surroundings told a much more interesting story than her limb did. Two stories in fact, one of fear at what had killed the timber wolf, and one of grim curiosity, of if her savior had merely wanted the kill for itself. She met a line of thick shrubbery and pushed past the brush that blocked her path. As it swung back into place behind her she disappeared from the man’s sight. He admired her determination that kept her going on a sprain, or perhaps the adrenaline was still dulling the pain. Without a sound he rose from his overlook and slung his sniper rifle across his back. He had done his job, the job that no one knew he did, what more could he be expected to accomplish? He began to walk away from his position but sighed instead, knowing full well the answer to the question he had asked himself. She had been heading away from the town. He turned around, facing the direction she had gone off in, and began to follow. He slid down the incline that had been his observation post. He moved silently through the trees and the brush, as silent as the wolf that he had killed. It had taken time to learn the stealth of his hunters, of course, but he prided himself on being a quick learner. So it hadn't taken too long before he had found out how to go undetected in this place, an easier process than it might have been if he were in his casual clothing, but luckily he had been wearing his skin tight, war front outfit when he had woken up here, something that was still unexplained. He tracked her, following the hoof prints in the grass, gaining on her slowly. She had seemed aware of the direction she was going, but that didn’t mean she was going to make it wherever she intended to go. Not alive, anyway. And aside from 'away from town' he couldn't think of anywhere else she intended to wind up. The sniper rifle began to tick softly, a sign that the firing mechanism was ready for a low velocity shot. Close range combat, if he felt like playing suicide. Everything here had evolved to ambush you from around a corner, meaning they were built to tear apart everything close enough to their mouth. He had always done his best to pick off his foes at medium or long range, eliminating their advantage easily and quickly. To be fair though, it seemed to have worked for them splendidly until he came along. He tried to be modest, but his training allowed him some degree of self-esteem. As did the inventions he had assisted with, like the gun he now toted on his back. Between him and his equipment, he was fairly certain he was, at the very least, a force to be reckoned with in this forest. The sun had fallen, he noticed when he skirted the edge of a clearing, time was always hard to determine in this thick forest. He suspected he would find the pony, or her corpse, soon enough, estimating that she had taken up refuge in a cave or clearing. Hopefully the former, as the latter would mean she would be dead before dawn. In a cave, she would at least last until her hosts awoke from their naps. He peeked ahead and through a pair of bushes, causing a soft rustle to spill into the air. He spotted the pony fairly easily, he bright coat doing her no favors in her attempts to hide. She was hidden inside a hollowed out trunk, and the man couldn’t help but admire her intellect, given that there was a clearing not far away. Her eyes and ears darted busily, hearing the noise he had made. He held perfectly still, both because he knew she wouldn't spot him, and also out of necessity. Even the best of eyes wouldn’t be able to pick him out among the twisted branches of his cover. Her panic was understandable, given her current situation, but he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what she was doing in this god forsaken forest in the first place. He knew not of any who came this far, even on the most calm of days. The zebra was the most adventurous of all the explorers, but even she stuck to paths and known routes, and the yellow one barely went any farther in than the zebra’s hut. So, why then, had this pony come so far into the thick unknown that her and her kind obviously feared. He watched her, and as she pulled a small pink animal from her saddlebags he was forced to repress a sad sigh. He saw it now, clear as day. Homesickness in her eyes and actions, regret and guilt, but blind stubbornness as well. A run away. She seemed a bit too old, but he had never been able to guess the age of the beings he watched on a regular basis, grey hair was the only constant when it came to their ages, beyond that was informed guessing. She curled up with her toy, crying into it’s fur. “Oh Mister Fuzzy” She whispered, “What have I done?” A quick scan of the area told the man immediately that it was in a shift between the daytime predators and the night time predators, meaning this was the safest part of the day. He stood from the bushes, his movement immediately catching the attention of the pony. He held his hands up to show he meant no harm, but the pony still tried to push herself deeper into the tree trunk, not that he could blame her. “I can offer you safe passage home.” He said. There had probably been a way to do this without giving a description of his form to a pony, but he had stopped caring about that particular secret a while back. She looked at him, wary, confused, and foremost, hopeful. “Why should I trust you?” She stated, glaring at him with squinted eyes. “Because I could have easily let that wooden wolf tear you apart earlier? Or perhaps because I could have killed you at any point as you made your way through the forest, but didn’t? Just a few suggestions.” The man said. His words served a dual purpose, to reinforce a healthy fear in the pony so she wouldn’t try and attack him, and to show that he had helped her earlier. Her eyes spiked with terror at the thoughts, widening until they were fully open. He allowed her her silent moment of horror and waited until she continued the conversation. She wasn’t going to go with him, not yet, but with some reassurance and a few more truthful answers he would be able to escort her out. The question that she asked, though, was not the one he had been expecting. “Why did you kill the wolf instead of crippling it?” She asked. “I saw your skill, you could have busted its jaws, broke its leg, anything would have gotten to stop the pursuit, so why did you kill it?” He thought about this for a while, a question he had never actually asked himself, it had been reactionary, in all truth, a habit that had grown on him during the time he served, but that was no excuse. If he truly wanted to change he could have by this point, so why did he continue to kill his targets with a well placed frontal lobotomy? “I suppose...” He paused for a moment, knowing what he was about to say might very well scare the pony. “I kill threats because it’s calming.” He anticipated fear, hesitancy, distrust. But the pony surprised him one more time that night when she came out of her shelter with a half-hearted grin. “Lead the way.” Stuttering GearsHe could feel the pony's eyes burning a hole into his back, and he was getting sick of it. He wanted her to leave him be and go into her precious town already, but despite the fact that it was in plain view, she refused to go unless he escorted her fully in. Stubborn, to the very last. His fingers idly fiddled with the safety on his gun, but never fully turned it, sometimes just feeling the give on how much force it would take to turn it, sometimes just brushing it absentmindedly. He stared into the town, where all the happy healthy inhabitants went about their happy little lives. He really didn't want to go in. His scope moved over each pony in turn, all of them going about their normal lives. He suspected a few had noticed the smoke, judging by the occasional looks of curiosity in his general direction, but there were only a few that would come out here, and only when they felt the need to. There was a small crackling noise as the fire flared up at random, and the man turned around to see the large tail that was being turned on a spit. The pony had gotten her fill of food from plants, he, on the other hand, hadn't gotten anything to eat since the day before. And he was starved. If a pony did come to investigate the fire, they would find this runaway, and they would hurry her back into town, and he would be done with it. Until then though, he would drag this out as long as he could. The tail crackled again and he quickly removed it from the spit and applied a strong machete swing to the end of it, cutting off the poison sac. It had helped to add flavor to the food, but now it was done and he didn't feel like getting poisoned. With a practiced smash of the hilt, he sent cracks running down the exoskeleton of the tail, allowing him to peel it off and reveal the tender meat underneath it. He rested the machete in the fire for a moment, watching the toxins that had clung to the blade catch on fire, when the sudden fire died out he removed the blade and cut the meat. Several slices adorned his plate as he sat down across from the runaway. As he ate he kept a close eye on her, watching as his glare made her self conscious and twitchy. Eventually, the pressure grew too much for her as she suddenly blurted "What?" "What's your name?" He took a bite of his food as he waited for the answer, his leer pinned to her. "Sparkler." "That's a nice name." "Thanks." "Your mother must have loved you very much to give you such a nice name." She looked at the man aghast, not believing he was already getting onto this topic. "It's not your place to say that I don't think." "Given that I saved your life because you felt otherwise, I think it's very much my place." He seemed completely unfazed by her anger at his words, his words holding a hint of heat, but somehow devoid of anger themselves. He tapped his plate with a finger before picking up the next piece of meat. Sparkler remained silent as she looked at him, and he returned the response, chewing thoughtfully across from her. "It doesn't matter anyway, I had a temper tantrum and ran away." "Hindsight is always twenty twenty." "What?" "Nothing." He let his gaze fall to his food, but didn't take any from the plate as his mouth was already half full of the strange meat. He tapped the plate again, this time to the tune of some strange irregular beat. He began to mumble under his breath, but Sparkler leaned forward, but it was still impossible to hear. Then, suddenly, he stopped altogether. the beat and the words ended and were replaced with silence as he took another piece of meat to fill his mouth. Sparkler let the silence go on, happy that she was off the chopping block, but it wasn't long before she grew antsy of the inaction and found the need to start another dialogue. "Since I've told you mine, it would only be fair if you told me yours." He looked up from his plate and at her again. He swallowed his mouthful of food and looked at her in disbelief. Then, without warning, he stood up from the log, leaving his half full plate behind. "Come on, we're going to town." "What?" "Come on." She followed him as he tossed water over the fire and left the camp, a warm meal left behind. His gun swayed back and forth on his back like a metronome, and Sparkler found it drawing her entire attention until she suddenly came to realize they had entered the borders of town, and already they were beginning to get looks of curiosity. She glanced to the onlookers briefly before she looked at the man. His breathing was heavy and erratic, his arms were crossed in a defensive manner in front of him and his eyes darted to each of those ponies who looked at him. "Where's your house?" Sparkler, instead of answering, took the lead of the small group and began to lead them in the right direction. His words had held a kind of terror she didn't think she would hear from him, and she wondered why the Everfree had been so normal to him, but the town was some nightmarish thing. His footsteps plodded through the dirt behind her, the silent movements he usually displayed abandoned. She moved around ponies as she made her way through town, but when she stopped to make sure he was following he would always give the very same ponies a wide berth as he passed, like monsters who would attack him. As she was pondering this oddity she heard a call from up ahead. A familiar one. "SPARKLER!" A cry of pure joy. She smiled as she looked to the owner. Derpy made her way over at blinding speed and wrapped Sparkler in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry Sparkler. I didn't mean any of it. I promise." "It's okay mom, I know." "Excellent, happy ending. I'm leaving now." The duo looked to the speaker and saw the man already turning to retreat, Derpy looked to Sparkler in confusion, but Sparkler was already preparing to speak out. She was interrupted as the man came to a sudden stop. Holding tightly to his leg, Sparkler recognized her younger sister. "Thanks for bringing Sparkler home," Dinky said with a smile, looking up at the man. He was frozen in place and look of panic passed through his eyes. He didn't respond, only looking at her with wide eyes. "Sis!" Sparkler eventually shouted. "That's not very nice to do." Dinky looked at Sparkler, then back to the man, then let go of him, retreating towards her family. He, in turn, immediately began retreating from the town, his pace picking up until a swift jog took him outside and back to his camp, where heavy exhales were forced from his lungs. Not from physical exhaustion, of course, but he had certainly been through a lot mentally that day. And he didn't look forward to meeting with ponies anytime soon, or ever again, for that matter. As these thoughts reassured him of future peace he looked to where Sparkler had been sitting and his blood froze, her stuffed animal still rested there, tucked behind the log and almost completely out of sight from anywhere in the camp proper. He looked at it, as if not believing it's existence, then fought back the urge to curse aloud. Standing OfferIt was approaching midnight as Derpy was laying her daughters down to bed. Tucking both of them in personally and hugging Sparkler. Well ‘hugging’ in the sense of crying and wanting to hold her as long as possible to make sure she was there. Tears still rimmed her eyes, as a matter of fact, when she heard a knock on the door to the building. She wondered briefly on who it could be this late at night, not knowing many night owls aside from Twilight Sparkle, who often ended out studying long into the morning. But, of course, it wouldn’t be her. She had no reason to visit Derpy and Derpy couldn’t blame her much for preferring to read her books as opposed to visiting the townsfolk every now and then. Derpy herself had a fondness for romance novels and had stayed up late more often than she would admit to in an effort to finish some entralling tale, it didn’t seem too unbelieveable that other ponies might have fondness for other kinds of books. So Twilight was off the list then. Who else? She couldn’t think of anyone. There’d been that creature from the Everfree that had followed Sparkler home, was it nocturnal? Could be, Everfree wasn’t exactly a normal place. Being active at night wouldn’t be beyond the possibilities of it’s residents. She waited for a moment at the door. What if it was the creature? Sparkler had neglected to say anything about it, was it dangerous? Would she be safe if she opened the door? Maybe it was like a vampony and had to be invited into residences, or maybe it was like a Timberwolf and would attack her first chance it got. Another knock came from the door. Derpy took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. But it seemed she had been too loud in doing so as a voice spoke from the other side of the wood. “If you don’t want to open the door I can’t blame you, I’ve just come to return Sparkler’s stuffed animal, she left it at my camp.” Sparkler’s animal had been noticeably absent, she’d neglected to say where it’d gone though. Hardly a moment later she decided that, since the creature had delivered her daughter safely home from the Everfree, it deserved at least some level of trust. She cracked the door slightly and looked out onto the porch, the light from the full moon casting the silhouette on her stoop in light. She saw the same biped that had been with her daughter bent over, placing a small plush animal on the wood with care. He glanced up at her as she opened the door, his eyes gazing at her from beneath a set of bushy brows. It looked at the plush once again and let go of it slowly, making sure it stayed upright without assistance. It straightened up again and Derpy’s eyes followed its eyes as the head rose higher up. “Goodnight m’am.” It said simply, nodding to Derpy and adjusting some strap across it’s chest. Derpy saw something in its eyes as it stood. Some glint of loneliness behind the irises, nigh invisible in the dim light. It was only for a moment but as it turned to walk away she found herself speaking almost subconsciously. “Do you want to come in for a-” She wanted to say hug, she felt like she needed to say hug, but she suppressed it in favor of something more traditional. “Snack?” She said instead, opening the door a bit more in greeting. “No thank you Ma’am. I’m rather full at the moment. I appreciate the offer though.” “It’s a standing offer… anytime you need a snack or a chat…” Derpy said, smiling softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He said and nodded again. “Goodbye Ma’am.” “Goodbye.” Derpy said, a bit more welcoming than she’d sounded at the beginning. She watched him leave and didn’t realize just how soon it would be before that offer would be collected. Dinky was having trouble sleeping, she kept imagining Sparkler being gone for good and she had to go and make sure her sister was still asleep in the home before she could go back to bed and steal an hour of slumber from the aether before she would wake up again. Eventually she decided against sleep all together, staying as awake as she could manage in the living room. It’d been barely an hour or two since her mom had gone to bed when she heard a knock at the door. It was sort of frantic, and in her drowsy steps Dinky didn’t even think it could be a monster. It was just a knock at the door, why wouldn’t she answer it? A large towering form filled the doorway as the door swung open and Dinky was struck with a sudden fear that dispelled all her tiredness. It was breathing heavily and seemed to be examining her with it’s searching eyes. “Is your mother home?” It said, a familiar but exhausted tone that Dinky couldn’t quite place. “Yea… let me go get her.” Dinky said, not knowing what else to do in the circumstance. She left the monster at the door to go find wake her mom up. It took a bit of persuasion, and persuasion of course meant nudging her often in an effort to force her to her hooves. Eventually Derpy brought herself awake, just barely, but she stood and followed her daughter down the stairs. Wondering what exactly was the cause of the unexpected wake up call. When she saw the biped she gasped, he had one hand outstretched against the doorframe, his body barely managing to keep itself up, and small pools of blood had begun to form on the wood panels of the floor, occasionally growing with the addition of a loose drop of blood. She wasn’t able to see the wounds themselves however, on account of the thick coat he wore over his body, the hood blocking his face from view. “What- What happened?” She asked, moving forward to support the biped, who waved off her assistance. “It was nothing, I was stupid. Shouldn’t have left my camp in the middle of the night. Those wolves are smarter than I thought, they set up an ambush.” He almost fell into the room but stopped himself, staying politely outside. “Oh come in, please, there’s some first aid equipment in the bathroom upstairs.” “Thank you.” He said, lurching finally over the threshold and moving at a steady pace up the stairs, once again declining assistance as he forced himself into the bathroom. He leaned heavily over the sink, as it barely came up to his waist, and looked through the nearby cupboards until he found some bandages and cloth. He snatched the soap from it’s place next to the sink and ran it under some water. Derpy and Dinky looked on as he pulled up his sleeves and revealed the scratches that covered his arms. He began to wash off the blood that caked his arms and clean the wounds as best he could, Derpy spoke up then, hoping perhaps to get his mind off the wounds that tallied his arms. “It’s a good thing that you were so close to town, those wolves don’t pursue over the edge of the Everfree.” “Really? Wish I’d known that sooner.” “What? But if you didn’t… then how-” Derpy’s eyes widened in realization, Dinky looked on confused, not fully understanding the course of the discussion. “Did you know that they reanimate if there’s a lot of them in the same area? Found that out today, that was fun.” “Well,” Said Derpy, a bit conflicted. “I’m happy that you made it out unharmed.” What she didn’t follow that up with was how scared she was of something that had single-handedly destroyed an entire pack of timber wolves. She added a mental note never to get on the bad side of…. She realized she didn’t know his name. Did monsters have names? Was he a monster? He didn’t seem like a monster. He fought like one apparently though… was he sort of a monster? Did ‘sort of monsters’ have names? Would it be rude to ask? Dinky spoke up. “Hey, Sparkler didn’t say your name, what is it?” Derpy looked at Dinky, surprised, but then back to the biped, curious to the answer herself. He didn’t respond and turned his attention instead to wrapping cloth around his arms and following that up with a layer of bandages. With a glance to the pair he opened the area beneath the sink and glanced around inside. “Do you have a bucket anywhere?” He asked as he looked around. “Oh! I’ll go get it!” Dinky said before running off. “What do you need a-” Derpy was interrupted by a crash. A moment later Dinky came back with a bucket. “Thank you.” He slid the bucket under the faucet and turned it on, watching it fill with warm water. He ducked back down and snatched a bottle from the area beneath the sink, adding a short measure to the filling bucket before he stowed it under the sink again. The bucket filled up in a short moment and he lifted it from the sink with his newly wrapped arms, turning the water off after he had done so. he held it tightly and stepped down to the main floor again, placing it by the door and cleaning up the pools of blood with the mixture. Derpy looked on worried. “You don’t- you don’t have to do that.” “I caused the problem, I’ll fix it. Blood stains wood extremely badly, you have to make sure to get it out before it settles in or you’ll never see the end of it.” He scrubbed it powerfully, the water in the bucket turning more and more red after each pool was cleaned. Derpy looked at him worried, Dinky looked at them both with confusion. The man simply cleaned the floor. “You can go to bed if you want.” He said. “This isn’t the most thrilling thing in the world.” Derpy glanced at a nearby clock. “I’d love to, but I’ve got to go to my mail job soon, have to get started early so I can be sure everyone gets their mail.” “I could do that, do you want me to do that?” Said the man, pausing his cleaning job for a moment to turn and look at Derpy. She felt unnerved by that, “No, I can do it. Thanks for offering though. “Are you sure?” He asked, not turning away for a moment. “Yes, I’m sure.” “Alright.” “Alright...” Author's Note I think this chapter is crap, but I also think every chapter I write is crap, so whatever.
A Shot in Time Saves OneIt was calming. The soft ticking that kept the time of the day, marking the passing seconds, winding the large sniper rifle that was more or less invisible to onlookers behind the cover of leaves. The pulsing rhythm was louder than the owner would have liked, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It had yet to get him noticed, and more often than not it would be the last thing his enemies heard, only aware of the sound after it was no longer there. The void drawing more attention than the sound that had been there. His breath was the only other noise, much quieter than the clock-like beat that held the air. The inhales and exhales were loud in his ears, but it had always been during this work. It told him his heart rate, his general health, it kept him focused, and it told him when he was about to shoot someone. But he usually knew that last one before he pulled the trigger. The scope portrayed the scene below vividly, a master work of long range sight that the man had put great pride in, far more than what it was attached to anyway. A wolf made of discarded tree branches pursued it’s prey, a horse of some sort, multi-colored, screaming. He had seen them quite a bit since his arrival in this strange place, they seemed to be the dominant species, given their intelligence, their towns, and their societies in general. Of course, the man hadn’t bothered to approach any of them. He knew immediately he would be unwelcome here, he could feel it in the air, in his bones. He was unwelcome by the very air and dirt, an alien hated by every manner of object that called this odd place home. Except for here, in this forest. A place considered chaotic by the inhabitants, taboo if nothing else. And it fit him like a glove. He watched the chase coldly from behind his weapon of judgement. Following the duo in their relentless pursuit through the trees. The wolf was closing the distance, slowly. He traced the action, not too engaged by the outcome but knowing full well he would save the pony should she need it. Well, he assumed it was a she, it seemed a safe bet judging by the build. Then she tripped and the wolf pounced immediately, it sailed high through the air, allowing the pony enough time to spin and look up at her attacker. A muscle reflex shot through the sniper. The man watched through his scope as the beast was taken out by his well aimed headshot, but more intently he watched as the pony’s expression changed from fear to confusion. The ticking had stopped, but he doubted that she noticed, given her hectic run only moments ago. He pulled back the bolt action and locked the next bullet in place, knowing that there may be other of the monsters nearby, he had a few moments of residual energy still, perhaps a second shot would scare away a group if they attacked, if not... well... The monsters of timber seemed to hunt in packs on some days, but he didn’t know what circumstances caused the camaraderie, and he wished he did. It would have been very helpful a few nights ago when he had abandoned his old camp at the sight of one of the creatures, knowing he could take down one but that a pack would tear him to shreds. He watched as she stood, limping slightly on one of her legs. Probably just a pulled muscle, a break seemed unlikely. She struggled on through the woods, but her manic random glances at her surroundings told a much more interesting story than her limb did. Two stories in fact, one of fear at what had killed the timber wolf, and one of grim curiosity, of if her savior had merely wanted the kill for itself. She met a line of thick shrubbery and pushed past the brush that blocked her path. As it swung back into place behind her she disappeared from the man’s sight. He admired her determination that kept her going on a sprain, or perhaps the adrenaline was still dulling the pain. Without a sound he rose from his overlook and slung his sniper rifle across his back. He had done his job, the job that no one knew he did, what more could he be expected to accomplish? He began to walk away from his position but sighed instead, knowing full well the answer to the question he had asked himself. She had been heading away from the town. He turned around, facing the direction she had gone off in, and began to follow. He slid down the incline that had been his observation post. He moved silently through the trees and the brush, as silent as the wolf that he had killed. It had taken time to learn the stealth of his hunters, of course, but he prided himself on being a quick learner. So it hadn't taken too long before he had found out how to go undetected in this place, an easier process than it might have been if he were in his casual clothing, but luckily he had been wearing his skin tight, war front outfit when he had woken up here, something that was still unexplained. He tracked her, following the hoof prints in the grass, gaining on her slowly. She had seemed aware of the direction she was going, but that didn’t mean she was going to make it wherever she intended to go. Not alive, anyway. And aside from 'away from town' he couldn't think of anywhere else she intended to wind up. The sniper rifle began to tick softly, a sign that the firing mechanism was ready for a low velocity shot. Close range combat, if he felt like playing suicide. Everything here had evolved to ambush you from around a corner, meaning they were built to tear apart everything close enough to their mouth. He had always done his best to pick off his foes at medium or long range, eliminating their advantage easily and quickly. To be fair though, it seemed to have worked for them splendidly until he came along. He tried to be modest, but his training allowed him some degree of self-esteem. As did the inventions he had assisted with, like the gun he now toted on his back. Between him and his equipment, he was fairly certain he was, at the very least, a force to be reckoned with in this forest. The sun had fallen, he noticed when he skirted the edge of a clearing, time was always hard to determine in this thick forest. He suspected he would find the pony, or her corpse, soon enough, estimating that she had taken up refuge in a cave or clearing. Hopefully the former, as the latter would mean she would be dead before dawn. In a cave, she would at least last until her hosts awoke from their naps. He peeked ahead and through a pair of bushes, causing a soft rustle to spill into the air. He spotted the pony fairly easily, he bright coat doing her no favors in her attempts to hide. She was hidden inside a hollowed out trunk, and the man couldn’t help but admire her intellect, given that there was a clearing not far away. Her eyes and ears darted busily, hearing the noise he had made. He held perfectly still, both because he knew she wouldn't spot him, and also out of necessity. Even the best of eyes wouldn’t be able to pick him out among the twisted branches of his cover. Her panic was understandable, given her current situation, but he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what she was doing in this god forsaken forest in the first place. He knew not of any who came this far, even on the most calm of days. The zebra was the most adventurous of all the explorers, but even she stuck to paths and known routes, and the yellow one barely went any farther in than the zebra’s hut. So, why then, had this pony come so far into the thick unknown that her and her kind obviously feared. He watched her, and as she pulled a small pink animal from her saddlebags he was forced to repress a sad sigh. He saw it now, clear as day. Homesickness in her eyes and actions, regret and guilt, but blind stubbornness as well. A run away. She seemed a bit too old, but he had never been able to guess the age of the beings he watched on a regular basis, grey hair was the only constant when it came to their ages, beyond that was informed guessing. She curled up with her toy, crying into it’s fur. “Oh Mister Fuzzy” She whispered, “What have I done?” A quick scan of the area told the man immediately that it was in a shift between the daytime predators and the night time predators, meaning this was the safest part of the day. He stood from the bushes, his movement immediately catching the attention of the pony. He held his hands up to show he meant no harm, but the pony still tried to push herself deeper into the tree trunk, not that he could blame her. “I can offer you safe passage home.” He said. There had probably been a way to do this without giving a description of his form to a pony, but he had stopped caring about that particular secret a while back. She looked at him, wary, confused, and foremost, hopeful. “Why should I trust you?” She stated, glaring at him with squinted eyes. “Because I could have easily let that wooden wolf tear you apart earlier? Or perhaps because I could have killed you at any point as you made your way through the forest, but didn’t? Just a few suggestions.” The man said. His words served a dual purpose, to reinforce a healthy fear in the pony so she wouldn’t try and attack him, and to show that he had helped her earlier. Her eyes spiked with terror at the thoughts, widening until they were fully open. He allowed her her silent moment of horror and waited until she continued the conversation. She wasn’t going to go with him, not yet, but with some reassurance and a few more truthful answers he would be able to escort her out. The question that she asked, though, was not the one he had been expecting. “Why did you kill the wolf instead of crippling it?” She asked. “I saw your skill, you could have busted its jaws, broke its leg, anything would have gotten to stop the pursuit, so why did you kill it?” He thought about this for a while, a question he had never actually asked himself, it had been reactionary, in all truth, a habit that had grown on him during the time he served, but that was no excuse. If he truly wanted to change he could have by this point, so why did he continue to kill his targets with a well placed frontal lobotomy? “I suppose...” He paused for a moment, knowing what he was about to say might very well scare the pony. “I kill threats because it’s calming.” He anticipated fear, hesitancy, distrust. But the pony surprised him one more time that night when she came out of her shelter with a half-hearted grin. “Lead the way.”
Stuttering GearsHe could feel the pony's eyes burning a hole into his back, and he was getting sick of it. He wanted her to leave him be and go into her precious town already, but despite the fact that it was in plain view, she refused to go unless he escorted her fully in. Stubborn, to the very last. His fingers idly fiddled with the safety on his gun, but never fully turned it, sometimes just feeling the give on how much force it would take to turn it, sometimes just brushing it absentmindedly. He stared into the town, where all the happy healthy inhabitants went about their happy little lives. He really didn't want to go in. His scope moved over each pony in turn, all of them going about their normal lives. He suspected a few had noticed the smoke, judging by the occasional looks of curiosity in his general direction, but there were only a few that would come out here, and only when they felt the need to. There was a small crackling noise as the fire flared up at random, and the man turned around to see the large tail that was being turned on a spit. The pony had gotten her fill of food from plants, he, on the other hand, hadn't gotten anything to eat since the day before. And he was starved. If a pony did come to investigate the fire, they would find this runaway, and they would hurry her back into town, and he would be done with it. Until then though, he would drag this out as long as he could. The tail crackled again and he quickly removed it from the spit and applied a strong machete swing to the end of it, cutting off the poison sac. It had helped to add flavor to the food, but now it was done and he didn't feel like getting poisoned. With a practiced smash of the hilt, he sent cracks running down the exoskeleton of the tail, allowing him to peel it off and reveal the tender meat underneath it. He rested the machete in the fire for a moment, watching the toxins that had clung to the blade catch on fire, when the sudden fire died out he removed the blade and cut the meat. Several slices adorned his plate as he sat down across from the runaway. As he ate he kept a close eye on her, watching as his glare made her self conscious and twitchy. Eventually, the pressure grew too much for her as she suddenly blurted "What?" "What's your name?" He took a bite of his food as he waited for the answer, his leer pinned to her. "Sparkler." "That's a nice name." "Thanks." "Your mother must have loved you very much to give you such a nice name." She looked at the man aghast, not believing he was already getting onto this topic. "It's not your place to say that I don't think." "Given that I saved your life because you felt otherwise, I think it's very much my place." He seemed completely unfazed by her anger at his words, his words holding a hint of heat, but somehow devoid of anger themselves. He tapped his plate with a finger before picking up the next piece of meat. Sparkler remained silent as she looked at him, and he returned the response, chewing thoughtfully across from her. "It doesn't matter anyway, I had a temper tantrum and ran away." "Hindsight is always twenty twenty." "What?" "Nothing." He let his gaze fall to his food, but didn't take any from the plate as his mouth was already half full of the strange meat. He tapped the plate again, this time to the tune of some strange irregular beat. He began to mumble under his breath, but Sparkler leaned forward, but it was still impossible to hear. Then, suddenly, he stopped altogether. the beat and the words ended and were replaced with silence as he took another piece of meat to fill his mouth. Sparkler let the silence go on, happy that she was off the chopping block, but it wasn't long before she grew antsy of the inaction and found the need to start another dialogue. "Since I've told you mine, it would only be fair if you told me yours." He looked up from his plate and at her again. He swallowed his mouthful of food and looked at her in disbelief. Then, without warning, he stood up from the log, leaving his half full plate behind. "Come on, we're going to town." "What?" "Come on." She followed him as he tossed water over the fire and left the camp, a warm meal left behind. His gun swayed back and forth on his back like a metronome, and Sparkler found it drawing her entire attention until she suddenly came to realize they had entered the borders of town, and already they were beginning to get looks of curiosity. She glanced to the onlookers briefly before she looked at the man. His breathing was heavy and erratic, his arms were crossed in a defensive manner in front of him and his eyes darted to each of those ponies who looked at him. "Where's your house?" Sparkler, instead of answering, took the lead of the small group and began to lead them in the right direction. His words had held a kind of terror she didn't think she would hear from him, and she wondered why the Everfree had been so normal to him, but the town was some nightmarish thing. His footsteps plodded through the dirt behind her, the silent movements he usually displayed abandoned. She moved around ponies as she made her way through town, but when she stopped to make sure he was following he would always give the very same ponies a wide berth as he passed, like monsters who would attack him. As she was pondering this oddity she heard a call from up ahead. A familiar one. "SPARKLER!" A cry of pure joy. She smiled as she looked to the owner. Derpy made her way over at blinding speed and wrapped Sparkler in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry Sparkler. I didn't mean any of it. I promise." "It's okay mom, I know." "Excellent, happy ending. I'm leaving now." The duo looked to the speaker and saw the man already turning to retreat, Derpy looked to Sparkler in confusion, but Sparkler was already preparing to speak out. She was interrupted as the man came to a sudden stop. Holding tightly to his leg, Sparkler recognized her younger sister. "Thanks for bringing Sparkler home," Dinky said with a smile, looking up at the man. He was frozen in place and look of panic passed through his eyes. He didn't respond, only looking at her with wide eyes. "Sis!" Sparkler eventually shouted. "That's not very nice to do." Dinky looked at Sparkler, then back to the man, then let go of him, retreating towards her family. He, in turn, immediately began retreating from the town, his pace picking up until a swift jog took him outside and back to his camp, where heavy exhales were forced from his lungs. Not from physical exhaustion, of course, but he had certainly been through a lot mentally that day. And he didn't look forward to meeting with ponies anytime soon, or ever again, for that matter. As these thoughts reassured him of future peace he looked to where Sparkler had been sitting and his blood froze, her stuffed animal still rested there, tucked behind the log and almost completely out of sight from anywhere in the camp proper. He looked at it, as if not believing it's existence, then fought back the urge to curse aloud.
Standing OfferIt was approaching midnight as Derpy was laying her daughters down to bed. Tucking both of them in personally and hugging Sparkler. Well ‘hugging’ in the sense of crying and wanting to hold her as long as possible to make sure she was there. Tears still rimmed her eyes, as a matter of fact, when she heard a knock on the door to the building. She wondered briefly on who it could be this late at night, not knowing many night owls aside from Twilight Sparkle, who often ended out studying long into the morning. But, of course, it wouldn’t be her. She had no reason to visit Derpy and Derpy couldn’t blame her much for preferring to read her books as opposed to visiting the townsfolk every now and then. Derpy herself had a fondness for romance novels and had stayed up late more often than she would admit to in an effort to finish some entralling tale, it didn’t seem too unbelieveable that other ponies might have fondness for other kinds of books. So Twilight was off the list then. Who else? She couldn’t think of anyone. There’d been that creature from the Everfree that had followed Sparkler home, was it nocturnal? Could be, Everfree wasn’t exactly a normal place. Being active at night wouldn’t be beyond the possibilities of it’s residents. She waited for a moment at the door. What if it was the creature? Sparkler had neglected to say anything about it, was it dangerous? Would she be safe if she opened the door? Maybe it was like a vampony and had to be invited into residences, or maybe it was like a Timberwolf and would attack her first chance it got. Another knock came from the door. Derpy took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. But it seemed she had been too loud in doing so as a voice spoke from the other side of the wood. “If you don’t want to open the door I can’t blame you, I’ve just come to return Sparkler’s stuffed animal, she left it at my camp.” Sparkler’s animal had been noticeably absent, she’d neglected to say where it’d gone though. Hardly a moment later she decided that, since the creature had delivered her daughter safely home from the Everfree, it deserved at least some level of trust. She cracked the door slightly and looked out onto the porch, the light from the full moon casting the silhouette on her stoop in light. She saw the same biped that had been with her daughter bent over, placing a small plush animal on the wood with care. He glanced up at her as she opened the door, his eyes gazing at her from beneath a set of bushy brows. It looked at the plush once again and let go of it slowly, making sure it stayed upright without assistance. It straightened up again and Derpy’s eyes followed its eyes as the head rose higher up. “Goodnight m’am.” It said simply, nodding to Derpy and adjusting some strap across it’s chest. Derpy saw something in its eyes as it stood. Some glint of loneliness behind the irises, nigh invisible in the dim light. It was only for a moment but as it turned to walk away she found herself speaking almost subconsciously. “Do you want to come in for a-” She wanted to say hug, she felt like she needed to say hug, but she suppressed it in favor of something more traditional. “Snack?” She said instead, opening the door a bit more in greeting. “No thank you Ma’am. I’m rather full at the moment. I appreciate the offer though.” “It’s a standing offer… anytime you need a snack or a chat…” Derpy said, smiling softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He said and nodded again. “Goodbye Ma’am.” “Goodbye.” Derpy said, a bit more welcoming than she’d sounded at the beginning. She watched him leave and didn’t realize just how soon it would be before that offer would be collected. Dinky was having trouble sleeping, she kept imagining Sparkler being gone for good and she had to go and make sure her sister was still asleep in the home before she could go back to bed and steal an hour of slumber from the aether before she would wake up again. Eventually she decided against sleep all together, staying as awake as she could manage in the living room. It’d been barely an hour or two since her mom had gone to bed when she heard a knock at the door. It was sort of frantic, and in her drowsy steps Dinky didn’t even think it could be a monster. It was just a knock at the door, why wouldn’t she answer it? A large towering form filled the doorway as the door swung open and Dinky was struck with a sudden fear that dispelled all her tiredness. It was breathing heavily and seemed to be examining her with it’s searching eyes. “Is your mother home?” It said, a familiar but exhausted tone that Dinky couldn’t quite place. “Yea… let me go get her.” Dinky said, not knowing what else to do in the circumstance. She left the monster at the door to go find wake her mom up. It took a bit of persuasion, and persuasion of course meant nudging her often in an effort to force her to her hooves. Eventually Derpy brought herself awake, just barely, but she stood and followed her daughter down the stairs. Wondering what exactly was the cause of the unexpected wake up call. When she saw the biped she gasped, he had one hand outstretched against the doorframe, his body barely managing to keep itself up, and small pools of blood had begun to form on the wood panels of the floor, occasionally growing with the addition of a loose drop of blood. She wasn’t able to see the wounds themselves however, on account of the thick coat he wore over his body, the hood blocking his face from view. “What- What happened?” She asked, moving forward to support the biped, who waved off her assistance. “It was nothing, I was stupid. Shouldn’t have left my camp in the middle of the night. Those wolves are smarter than I thought, they set up an ambush.” He almost fell into the room but stopped himself, staying politely outside. “Oh come in, please, there’s some first aid equipment in the bathroom upstairs.” “Thank you.” He said, lurching finally over the threshold and moving at a steady pace up the stairs, once again declining assistance as he forced himself into the bathroom. He leaned heavily over the sink, as it barely came up to his waist, and looked through the nearby cupboards until he found some bandages and cloth. He snatched the soap from it’s place next to the sink and ran it under some water. Derpy and Dinky looked on as he pulled up his sleeves and revealed the scratches that covered his arms. He began to wash off the blood that caked his arms and clean the wounds as best he could, Derpy spoke up then, hoping perhaps to get his mind off the wounds that tallied his arms. “It’s a good thing that you were so close to town, those wolves don’t pursue over the edge of the Everfree.” “Really? Wish I’d known that sooner.” “What? But if you didn’t… then how-” Derpy’s eyes widened in realization, Dinky looked on confused, not fully understanding the course of the discussion. “Did you know that they reanimate if there’s a lot of them in the same area? Found that out today, that was fun.” “Well,” Said Derpy, a bit conflicted. “I’m happy that you made it out unharmed.” What she didn’t follow that up with was how scared she was of something that had single-handedly destroyed an entire pack of timber wolves. She added a mental note never to get on the bad side of…. She realized she didn’t know his name. Did monsters have names? Was he a monster? He didn’t seem like a monster. He fought like one apparently though… was he sort of a monster? Did ‘sort of monsters’ have names? Would it be rude to ask? Dinky spoke up. “Hey, Sparkler didn’t say your name, what is it?” Derpy looked at Dinky, surprised, but then back to the biped, curious to the answer herself. He didn’t respond and turned his attention instead to wrapping cloth around his arms and following that up with a layer of bandages. With a glance to the pair he opened the area beneath the sink and glanced around inside. “Do you have a bucket anywhere?” He asked as he looked around. “Oh! I’ll go get it!” Dinky said before running off. “What do you need a-” Derpy was interrupted by a crash. A moment later Dinky came back with a bucket. “Thank you.” He slid the bucket under the faucet and turned it on, watching it fill with warm water. He ducked back down and snatched a bottle from the area beneath the sink, adding a short measure to the filling bucket before he stowed it under the sink again. The bucket filled up in a short moment and he lifted it from the sink with his newly wrapped arms, turning the water off after he had done so. he held it tightly and stepped down to the main floor again, placing it by the door and cleaning up the pools of blood with the mixture. Derpy looked on worried. “You don’t- you don’t have to do that.” “I caused the problem, I’ll fix it. Blood stains wood extremely badly, you have to make sure to get it out before it settles in or you’ll never see the end of it.” He scrubbed it powerfully, the water in the bucket turning more and more red after each pool was cleaned. Derpy looked at him worried, Dinky looked at them both with confusion. The man simply cleaned the floor. “You can go to bed if you want.” He said. “This isn’t the most thrilling thing in the world.” Derpy glanced at a nearby clock. “I’d love to, but I’ve got to go to my mail job soon, have to get started early so I can be sure everyone gets their mail.” “I could do that, do you want me to do that?” Said the man, pausing his cleaning job for a moment to turn and look at Derpy. She felt unnerved by that, “No, I can do it. Thanks for offering though. “Are you sure?” He asked, not turning away for a moment. “Yes, I’m sure.” “Alright.” “Alright...” Author's Note I think this chapter is crap, but I also think every chapter I write is crap, so whatever.
