Monster

I stumbled around, my feet following muscle memory to find my way back home. My mind was a mess. A raging storm of discordant thoughts filled my head, each more full of self-loathing than the last. Was this my fault? Did I make him do that? Why didn’t I try to stop him?

“And I really don’t care,” he sneered as he shoved my face into the bed, cutting off my apology.

My shoulders shook. It didn’t matter. I had apologized. I didn’t mean to hurt him. He was a monster. He deserved to be punished. I would go straight to the police… but I couldn’t. The police would investigate me too. They wouldn’t just accept some pony that appeared out of nowhere…

Oh, no. He knew.

The monster's face grinned down at me, the triumphant and ravenous grin of a timberwolf torn between playing with its prey and devouring it.

My own words resounded through my head. “Oh, no sir. I’m an orphan. I’m a wandering animal caretaker,” I had said. Stupid Fluttershy. He had seen right through me. He had seen my desperation. He had seen my inability to fight back. He had seen me. And he ate me whole, body and mind and spirit, worse than any timberwolf ever could.

I shuddered. He was a monster. How could anypony think like that? How could anypony see the vulnerabilities of another pony and strike at them for no reason? It was just senseless cruelty.

My blood chilled. He had seen me. Everything about me. He knew how every part of my felt and looked. I was completely violated. I shuddered. I looked at my mane and saw cracks in the dye job I had used. Flecks of pink popped out from under the green. I quickly smeared some blood over the pink spots to hide them.

I gulped and looked around. I stood in a clearing in front of Ponyville. The market was just past a river that marked the border of Ponyville. I looked back towards the marketplace. Ponies were starting to come into the market. I saw the cherry salesman peddling his wares as if nothing had happened. A mare was buying a cherry as I stood there. Would he take her next? Did he even care who he took?

I gazed up at the beast, shuddering in fear. Its eyes burned into mine and devoured the ashes of what remained. Its mouth opened, and its tongue pressed against my neck. Feeling me. Tasting me. Owning me.

The harsh, sneering voice of my past whispered in my ear,  “You ain’t saving anypony, Daring Don’t.”

Slammer? My heart wanted to escape from my chest as I turned and ran. Slammer had been right all along. What did it even matter? I couldn’t help anypony. I couldn’t even help myself.

I looked back at the monster in the marketplace. It smiled at the mare and the mare smiled back. I stopped running.

My skin was clammy and wet. My hooves trembled and my heart throbbed as though it was bursting. No one knew. There was a monster living in plain sight, a monster that wore the face of a regular pony in public until he beckoned the innocent into his den and devoured them. And no one knew.

A tear trailed down my eyes. The way it saw through me spoke of experience. How many had it raped? I wasn’t the only one; I knew that much. Those poor ponies.

I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand back and watch this creature wreak its insidious trail of deception and destruction through Equestria. Slammer was wrong. I was the only one who saw the menace. I would save them all. I had to.

I turned back to Ponyville. But how? He was bigger and stronger than me. I couldn’t call the police. I couldn’t do anything. But I had to try. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the bridge over the river and entered the market. I would slay the beast. I would save–A shiny glint caught my eye.

I stopped breathing.

At first the magnifying glass appeared. The gigantic baby blue eye within it seemed to grotesquely pop out from its socket, shifting around in wild patterns. I felt alarms blaring in my head as a pink pony’s head appeared from behind it. Strands of frizzy pink trailed down from a deerstalker like that of the famous detective, Sherclop Pones. An enormous grin mounted the face under the cap, obscured somewhat by the pipe that it clutched in its teeth. The eye in the magnifying glass stared straight at me.

“Save me!” I simultaneously whispered and shouted at any deity who may have been listening, before bolting from the scene. From behind me, I heard a triumphant cry of “Aha!”

I galloped at full speed, using my wings to push myself even faster as I tried to escape. That pony was the bane of my existence. She was the reason I came to Ponyville as little as possible.

I kicked at the ground nervously, trying to make up my mind. In one hoof, I held a single bit. The other leaned on a candy cane coloured pole that held up a portion of the roof of the store I was hovering around. The words “Sugarcube Corner” were emblazoned across the store’s sign, under a giant cupcake. It was obviously a sweet shop. I had one bit left from shopping, and it wasn’t likely that I would be coming back for a while. And that cupcake did look tempting.

My stomach rumbled. I looked around sheepishly to see if anyone had heard. Baby blue eyes stared into my own. I spun around and gazed at the sight of a pink earth pony wearing a strange hat with a propeller on top beaming at me.

“Found you!” the pony sang out. I looked around. There was no one else in sight.

“Who, me?” I asked, ducking behind my mane. Maybe she had mistaken me for somepony else.

The pony giggled and opened her mouth. “My Pinkie Senses were tingling and telling me there was a new pony in town so I went to look for you but I couldn’t find you and I looked everywhere for hours and hours and I thought that maybe my senses were wrong so I went back home and then I found you! I found you! IfoundyouIfoundyou!”

I gaped at this clearly insane pony. I shook my head. Maybe I was being too harsh. If I had been looking for somepony for hours I’d be excited to find them. I frowned. Why was she looking for me?

“Um, why were you looking for me?” I asked, now backing up my hooves to hide deeper into my mane.

The pony giggled and said “I’m Pinkie Pie! What’s your name?”

I mentally slapped myself. Was I doing that thing again where I was barely squeaking out the words I wanted to say?

I cleared my throat. “I’m F…” — wait. I couldn’t just tell her my real name. I looked around, trying to make up a name. My eyes caught trained in onto my cutie mark.

“I’m Butterfly,” I lied. I felt terrible for lying, but such was the life of a fugitive. ‘I’ll make it up to her later,’ I promised myself.

Pinkie Pie was talking. I started listening again. “—party, just for you! There’ll be streamers and cotton candy and dancing! You’ll get to shake a hoof thang, or cut a rug if that’s your style! And, you’ll get to meet every pony in town! It’ll be tons of fun!”

That last part didn’t sound fun to me. It sounded pretty scary. I backed away, averted my eyes, and whispered “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Pinkie Pie beamed. “Of course it is, silly filly! How else is everypony going to get to know you and make friends? That’s why I throw a Welcome to Ponyville Party for every new pony in Ponyville!”

I shook my head. “Really, it’s fine.” I insisted. I really didn’t like parties. I liked quiet. Parties weren’t quiet at all.

Pinkie’s smile drooped. “Aww, why not? Parties are fun! Everypony likes parties!”

“Because I’m a fugitive from the law and attention focused on me is something I don’t like anyway?” I carefully did not say. I couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t offend her, so I just said nothing.

I glanced in Pinkie Pie’s direction. Oh, Celestia. Her eyes had grown huge and her lips were pouting. I averted my eyes. Was that a tear I saw? I looked back. It was! I stammered incoherently. I averted my eyes as I felt myself cracking under the pressure.

“Um. Look, a distraction?!” I half-shouted and half-asked as I pointed directly behind Pinkie.

Miraculously, it worked. She spun around and shouted, “Where?”

Hardly believing my luck, I turned around and fled. I heard Pinkie exclaim from behind me “Oh, you’re good!”

The rest of the day was a blur, with Pinkie hounding my footsteps no matter where I went, until I finally found the one place that even Pinkie dared not go. The Everfree Forest.

It was the only place I could hide from Pinkie. Somehow, she always knew when I entered Ponyville.

I heard her howling behind me. “One year! You’ve avoided me for an entire year! NOPONY ESCAPES A PINKIE PARTY!”

I turned my head around to see Pinkie charging at me, eyes bloodshot and body literally flaming. Didn’t that hurt?

Guiltily, I shouted back, “Just throw somepony else a party! I’m not an interesting pony!”

Pinkie hollered back, “Are you kidding? You’re amazingly fun! Nopony’s ever managed to escape my Pinkie Senses before! Are you a wizard?”

Well, she was having fun. That made one of us. I gasped for breath as the edge of the Everfree drew near. I turned my head and saw my pursuer gaining on me. With a final burst of energy, I leaped into the forest and looked around for my hiding spot.

A seemingly innocuous log lay on the ground. I knew better. Gasping for breath, I crouched next to it and searched the surface of the log for a groove that was chiseled in by Mr Beaverton Beaverteeth himself.

Though grouchy, that beaver was an unparalleled woodworker. I smiled fondly as I remembered how he made a wooden carving of me for my birthday. The carving made me look so brave and bold. I looked a little like Commander Hurricane from the stories of Hearth’s Warming Eve. Commander Fluttershy. I giggled.

With a crash, Pinkie Pie burst through the trees. She landed on her hooves, teeth bared in a huge manic smile as she breathed in deeply.

“BUTTERFLY! ARE YOU READY TO PAAAARTAY IN THE EVERFREE?” she yelled, voice echoing through the silence of the forest.

My heart stopped. She never followed me into the forest before! My eyes darted around. Her yelling was attracting every creepy crawly evil monster that lived here! I almost got up to hush her, but stopped myself in time.

“I JUST WANNA BE YOUR FRIEND!” she cried out. Two pairs of glowing green eyes appeared out of the darkness. I gulped. Timberwolves! And where there were timberwolves, there were more timberwolves.

I pushed the hidden grove and it slid inwards, smooth lacquer lubricating the way for the sliding knob. I then found two more such groves and pushed with my wings. With a quiet click, a hatch on the log slid open, revealing the hollowed out inside. I reached in and pulled out three sharpened pieces of wood. They were shards of the branch that had impaled Slammer. Angel had somehow had them turned into daggers and insisted that I keep them with me. Of course, I couldn’t just walk into Ponyville armed with daggers, so I kept them by the edge of the Everfree Forest.

I held one dagger in my teeth and the others in my wings. While timberwolves were large and intimidating, they were not actually as dangerous as they looked. While they looked alive, they were actually just a bunch of twigs and bark held together by magic. And since that was the case, they fell apart as soon as enough of the branches they were made of broke. The problem was getting in close enough to break them.

Realizing that I would probably have to save Pinkie, I stood up. “Pinkie, I think we have bigger problems,” I whispered harshly at her through the knife in my mouth. I took a step forward, glaring at the timberwolves. This was probably a bad idea, but I couldn’t just let her die here.

“YOU!” Pinkie cried, lunging towards me, arms wide as she came in for a flying tackle. Aided by a sharp flap of my wings for extra lift, I sidestepped out of the way, eyes scanning the surroundings. Two snarling timberwolves stepped out of the brush.

I heard Pinkie exclaim from behind me, “Oooh, you're a ninja! That explains everything! Is that why you don’t like parties? What if we had a ninja party? Do ninjas have parties?”

I sighed. Did we have to do this now?

The timberwolves circled around us, drawing closer with every step. I narrowed my eyes. One of the timberwolves was about to step over a log. I breathed in. The timberwolf’s paw landed, leaving it in a position where it couldn’t turn quickly.

I pounced at the other one and drove my knife into it, knowing that I had a split second to kill it before the other one recovered. I jammed the two knives on my wings into the timberwolf’s snarling teeth to hold it back as I pushed the knife in my teeth into one of its glowing eyes. The knife wedged itself into the swirling green miasma in the timberwolf’s eye and slowed to a stop as if caught by hardened tree sap. I grunted and jerked my neck with all the strength I could muster, tearing the knife through the green magical barrier in the timberwolf’s eye and pulling it free. With a howl, the timberwolf collapsed to the ground as a pile of twigs.

I spun towards the other timberwolf, daggers held ready to impale it as it leaped towards me. Seeing the danger, the timberwolf shifted its momentum and spun around. The sharp claws on its paw extended as the timberwolf raised its hind leg to slash at me. I flapped my wings to gain lift, dropping the knives that I held in them. My wing—the one that the stallion had bitten before—screamed at me, but my survival instincts forced my wings to keep pumping furiously.

I felt the timberwolf’s sharp claws scrape a little skin my abdomen as I clamped my legs together around its back. As it bucked to try to throw me off, I used my last dregs of strength and jammed my remaining knife down into the crack between its head and the rest of its body. The timberwolf collapsed. I tumbled to the floor ungracefully and landed on the scattered debris. I gasped for air and clutched at the base of my wing. My body throbbed with pain. My wings, my neck, my scratched belly… everything screamed at me to just lie down in a hole somewhere and never leave.

Something rustled behind me. I heard a timberwolf snarl and Pinkie Pie shout, “Belay that ye scurvy swab!”

I turned around to see a third timberwolf—about to sink its jaws into me—turn to twigs as the sound of a cannon going off boomed through the forest. I closed my eyes as detritus splattered all over me, along with what looked like a mix of confetti and streamers. I looked to the source, to see none other than Pinkie Pie wearing an eyepatch, standing next to a blue cannon.

“You like it?” Pinkie asked, “It’s my party cannon!”

At this point I just decided to suspend my disbelief of what this crazy mare was capable of. I cleared my throat. “It’s very nice,” I replied cautiously to the mare with a cannon aimed at me. My eyes scanned the ground around me and found the knives I had dropped. I looked back at Pinkie Pie as I picked them up with my wings. Her eyepatch and cannon had disappeared.

I gazed down at her feet. “Pinkie Pie, you really shouldn’t stand there,” I said, noticing the field of blue flowers that enveloped her. The nice zebra mare that lived nearby had called the flowers poison joke, because they played tricks on ponies that inhaled their pollen. I had stepped into a field of them once before. I didn’t think they were very funny.

As I picked up my knives and strapped them to my legs, Pinkie Pie jumped up and down, scattering poison joke pollen all over herself and creating a spreading cloud of smoke. I flinched and stepped back.

Pinkie Pie chortled as she jumped. “Well, duh! This whole forest is ooky spooky! Come on, let’s go back to Ponyville!” she said, turning and bouncing back the way she came.

Parties had always terrified me. Pinkie Pie was a party on four hooves. I wanted to turn around and hide deeper into the forest and never see her again. But I couldn’t. Considering the amount of laughing and jumping she was doing in that field, she had probably overdosed on that pollen. I couldn’t just leave her like that. Who knew what kind of effects it could have on her? She could turn into a chicken, and no one would ever know. Not that there was anything wrong with being a chicken. I had many chicken friends and they were all very nice chickens. But she could also be forced to talk only in rhyme, like I was when I stepped into the poison joke. Or worse, she could turn tiny and accidentally be crushed.

A sharp hoof bit into by neck as it forced my face down. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs collapsed inwards from a lack of oxygen. I was shrinking in on myself, imploding bit by bit. Crushed by a monster.

I gasped as I rubbed my throat. My neck ached as I rubbed it. I felt something crusty and drew back my hoof. Eww. I was getting dried blood all over my mane. Blood.

The day’s events came flooding back to me. I had been raped, hunted down by an insane pony, attacked by timberwolves, and it probably wasn’t even noon yet. What had I done to deserve this? All I wanted was to live a nice and quiet life with my animal friends.

I curled up into a ball and cried. I just couldn’t catch a—

“Aren’t you coming?” I heard from above me. I felt my head being pulled up. Pinkie’s smiling face appeared in front of me. Her smile disappeared as a look of concern replaced it. “Are you ok? You’re crying,” she said, leaning in closer, “Are you hurt? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to leave you alone! Oh, Grannie Pie said this would happen!” She inspected her hoof, which was now covered with my blood.  “Oh, no! You’re bleeding!” she shouted. I felt pressure building in my head. Unsteadily, I got to my feet.

“Quiet.” I said. All of the rage and pain and suffering that I had been through today... Enough was enough. Visions of the creature that had raped me danced through my head as I gave Pinkie a stern look. “No.” I repeated.

Pinkie Pie seemed to cower before me silently. I smiled humorlessly at the blissful silence, but my gaze did not waver. “You are going to be quiet. You are going to follow me. You are not going to talk or party or do anything but follow me quietly. Do you understand?” I said, staring at Pinkie intently.

She nodded. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, but I ignored it in favor of enjoying the blissful silence. I turned around and trotted forward, eyes darting around warily. I had to stay strong. As cruel and unfair as the world was, I couldn’t just let it drag me down and swallow me whole! I had let that monster do that to me. Never again!

I walked in stormy silence for a few minutes before I turned back to Pinkie Pie to make sure she was still following me. Surprisingly, she was. I kept walking.

Soon, we found ourselves standing in front of a foreboding looking tree with a door. Potions hung from the branches like Hearth’s Warming Eve decorations, lighting up the tree with a myriad of colours of every tone and hue. From a twisty vial that glowed a bright, pulsating yellow to a round-bottomed flask containing what appeared to be bottled darkness, each potion added a sense of dark mystery to the tree. To complete the effect, a scary looking tribal mask hung over the door as if warning intruders to stay away. This place had once haunted my dreams as one of the horrors of the forest.

I turned to Pinkie Pie, who was no doubt having second thoughts. As I turned my head, I began to explain, “This is Zecora’s hut. She’s a very nice but shy Zebra. You—”

I really looked at Pinkie Pie for the first time since she had stopped talking. A tear trailed from her eye as she trembled in place. Her face had turned pale as she looked past me with a thousand mile stare. Her hair, which had once been bright and puffy, was dull and completely flat. I blinked. Oh, dear.

I approached her cautiously. “Um,” I began, not sure what to say. “Are you alright?” I asked. She didn’t respond. Maybe she was mad at me? I had been awfully rude to her. I had my reasons but she didn’t know any of them, so I had no real excuse for my actions.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you earlier. That was wrong of me.” I apologized, pawing at the ground. I looked at her. She didn’t respond. In fact, she didn’t even move.

Okay. This was bad. I lifted my hoof to touch Pinkie Pie. She didn’t react. I put my hoof on her shoulder and shook her a little. Still nothing. As I touched her, she felt cold and stiff as a corpse. I leaned closer and saw a trace of blue dust covering her body. Okay. Maybe this was a little worse than bad.

Slowly, I turned around and knocked on Zecora’s door. I heard no response. I knocked harder. Still nothing. “Please help me, Zecora,” I whispered. I waited. There was no response. I slowly turned around, desperately hoping that Pinkie Pie would be smiling and talking and partying. She wasn’t.

I looked around. The strange potions that Zecora hung around her home warded away most of the scary things in the forest, so we would be safe as long as we stayed here. I didn’t know when Zecora would get back, though.

I coughed awkwardly and pressed my hoof against Pinkie. I shook her a little. “Pinkie?” I asked helplessly. “So Pinkie. What’s your favorite colour?” I asked. Maybe she would respond to a nice chat? She loved talking, after all. “Mine’s green. It’s such a nice and natural colour. It’s nice and quiet and…” I trailed off. Pinkie stared ahead vacantly.

This clearly wasn’t working. Maybe I should talk about something she liked. “So what do you think about parties?” My eyes darted to her right ear. I could have sworn it twitched. “They have loud noises and cotton candy and dancing and streamers and laughing ponies.” Her ear definitely twitched this time. I smiled. “Everypony will look at you. You’ll be the center of attention. All of those faces, watching you. Judging you…” I trailed off in a whisper, shuddering. I shook my head. That was a horrible attempt. I was trying to save her life, not trying to scorn the reason she had three balloons on her haunch!

I looked at Pinkie Pie. She looked at me, unmoving. Her mouth trembled and her eyes twitched. I took a step towards her. I could definitely see her straining under her mysterious paralysis. I felt terrible. I was terrible at this. I shouldn’t have led her here. I should have known she’d follow me into the forest eventually.

Ignoring the danger, I leaned closer and wrapped my arms around her. Puffs of blue wafted into the air around me, but I paid no mind. Her shallow breathing across my neck made me twitch as I remembered the last time I felt somepony breathe down my neck. I wanted to pull away in disgust, but held on tight. “Pinkie, I’m sorry. I am! Please say something.”

“mmm sssrry”

I jumped. My eyes shot towards Pinkie. Her eyes turned with excruciating slowness in my direction. Her words sounded strained, and her breathing felt unsteady.

“Pinkie!” I shouted in relief. “Are you alright?”

The corners of Pinkie’s mouth twitched up. “mmm ffffnnnng,” she replied, mouth barely moving.

I looked out into the forest. “Zecora!” I shouted. I thought I heard something in the distance; I hoped it wasn’t my imagination. I turned back to Pinkie Pie. “Don’t worry. Zecora’s going to be here any minute. She knows all sorts of cures. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Huuuug?” Pinkie groaned out. I leaned in and hugged her again. We stayed huddled together for a while, until a bemused voice spoke behind me.

“What brings you fluttering by, my reclusive Butterfly?” Zecora called from behind me. “And with a friend this time,” she continued, “This is news most sublime!”

I turned to Zecora. I had never been so overjoyed at the sight of a black and white mare with glowing eyes barely visible underneath a hooded cloak. I let go of Pinkie and bounded over to Zecora. Zecora’s eyes narrowed as I stepped away, revealing Pinkie’s condition.

“So, this was not a social call, I see,” Zecora said, slowly walking towards Pinkie, “How did she receive such a malady?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I replied, “I didn’t see anything.” I turned to Pinkie, eyebrows creased. “I should have been watching you. I’m sorry.”

Pinkie Pie breathed out and snorted something unintelligibly. I sighed and looked down. She couldn’t even yell at me for getting her into this mess.

“Now Butterfly, from blaming yourself you must refrain. Healing such conditions is, after all, my domain. You brought her here, to my tree. Calm yourself, and leave the rest to me.” Zecora looked Pinkie over, grimacing in distaste at the sheen of blue over her.

I pawed at the ground. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

“A sheen of poison joke seems to cover—” Zecora began.

“But poison joke doesn’t work that quickly!” I interrupted, brushing some of the dust off of Pinkie Pie. As it fell off, I saw that her fur darker than it was before.

Zecora frowned. “I know that, please don’t hover.” She pulled out a pale green potion vial and spilled some of its contents onto Pinkie’s chest. “If you wish to help, then rub this in. Spread it deep onto her skin.”

Nodding in understanding, I furiously rubbed the potion into her chest. I looked at Zecora. She seemed to be watching Pinkie for something. I looked back at Pinkie’s chest. A deep blue aura flecked with glittering white sparks emanated from the part of her chest that the potion had touched. I withdrew my hoof from it and looked at Zecora.

She was frowning. “Though there is a cure, this is indeed most troubling. For now, I will get my cauldron bubbling. Though there is one answer I must hear: How did you get this pony to my lair?”

I blinked. “We walked…” I replied slowly.

Zecora frowned deeper. “The two of you walked, yet she cannot move,” she declared, “Walk inside, I have a suspicion to prove.” She gestured at her home.

Now curious, I walked to the doorway of her home. I heard a groaning sound from behind me. I turned around and saw Pinkie walking towards me, moaning like a zombie. I closed my eyes and opened them again. She was still walking towards me. And moaning. I took a step back and looked harder at Pinkie Pie. My eyes widened.

Her eyes twitched about, unfocused and wild. Her movement reminded me of a crippled bunny that I had cared for once, stubbornly moving despite excruciating agony. I bit my lip, drawing blood, and took a step forward. I rushed forward and reached out to stop Pinkie. As I approached, she stopped moving. Frowning, I slowed down. “Pinkie…” I said, not sure what to do. She stopped moaning and turned her pain filled eyes to me.

I looked at Zecora, slumping my shoulders. “Help her!” I whispered sharply. Zecora looked at me. Her cloak concealed most of her face, but the part that it didn’t conceal revealed none of the thoughts behind it as she stared at me with an unreadable expression. I stared back. What was she waiting for?

Finally, Zecora nodded. She stepped past Pinkie and me into her home. Silently, she gathered a strange display of wormlike plants, all held within bizarrely shaped containers. She then tossed them, containers and all, into her cauldron, and reached for more potion ingredients.

I turned around, leaving her to her work, and examined Pinkie Pie. I put my head to her chest and listened for her heartbeat. Her heart beat was weak, but steady. I pulled my head back and put my hoof in front of Pinkie’s mouth. Her breathing was the same.

I sighed in relief and kicked at the floor. I looked over at Zecora. She seemed to be busily grinding something in a pestle. I rubbed at my neck. I felt something tear and moaned. I looked at my hoof. Some fresh blood speckled in and I made a mental not to not touch my neck again in the near future.

Reminded once more of the incident earlier that day, I brought my bitten wing in front of me. Surprisingly, there was very little blood. The bite wound over my coracoid had scabbed over, leaving a series of tooth-shaped scabs.

I moved my wing back behind me, revealing Zecora, who was standing in front of me shaking her head. I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say, and then closed it again. Zecora had no such reservations.

Pulling down her hood, she took a step forward and looked at me and said, “Though the pink one suffers from her blight, your wing displays a most telling sight. With your answers, now, you cannot afford parsimony. Tell me now, did that bite come from a pony?”

I shook my head and straightened up. “It’s not important. It’s just a—”

“Your mouth stays strong but I hear your heart cry. You are not as worthless as you think, Butterfly.” Zecora cut in, eyes sharp.

I blinked and took a step back. I scuffed at the floor with my hoof. I didn’t think I was unimportant. Pinkie was just more important right now.

I averted my gaze. “Pinkie might be dying. I can handle a bitten wing if it means that she’ll be alright.”

Zecora shook her head. “To the unwary, your words ring true. But what exactly does she mean to you?”

I looked down at Pinkie and thought. What was Pinkie to me? I barely knew her. I had exactly one real conversation with her, which had ended in me running away. She was loud, obnoxious, and… nosy. I grimaced. It wasn’t her fault, though. She was just trying to be friendly. She didn’t know I was running from the law. She was… childish. Like Harry the Bear’s little cub, who had leaped onto me and crushed me under his weight—

A sharp hoof cut into me as it crushed down on my neck. Hot breath curled around my ear. “What a horrible flight accident you just had, right Fluttershy?” a masculine voice whispered harshly into my ear.

I shook my head and put my hoof to my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zecora shift slightly. I breathed in deeply as I tried to settle my nerves back down. I looked up at Zecora.

I cleared my throat and answered, “She’s my friend.”

Zecora sighed and shook her head again, before reaching down into a cabinet. “If you do not let me fix what is on the inside, then at least your outer wounds I can hide.” Zecora pulled out a bandage soaked with a healing salve.

I nodded, and lowered my neck. The cold salve slapped my neck, making me flinch. As a careful pair of hooves wrapped the bandage around my neck, I squirmed inwardly.

What did she mean ‘fix’? I was fine. Well, not really. But Pinkie’s life was more important right now than my bad day was. Speaking of which…

“Zecora…” I began, speaking softly so as to not disturb the bandages around my neck.

“My child, feel free to speak. Know that I offer no critique.”

I bit my cheek. I hesitated for a second and then mumbled out “Is she going to make it?”

Zecora hummed behind me for a few anxious seconds before answering, “Your friend here should be just fine, though it is good you brought her to me before the deadline. The light of the next full moon would surely have spelled her doom.”

What. My ear flaps turned towards Zecora as I struggled to stop my head from turning. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Do not be alarmed; she will not be harmed,” Zecora added, laying a gentle hoof on my cheek. “Think not of could-bes, but focus on the reality. When she finally drinks my potion she will once again have her motion.”

I stood in silence, letting the healing salve soak in as the potion brewed. I tried to think happy thoughts, like Zecora suggested, but my every thought ran back to the fact that my selfishness had almost killed a fellow pony. If I hadn’t told her to shut up… if I hadn’t lead her into the Everfree… if I had just gone to her party…

Zecora’s hoof rapped me on my forehead. I moved my eyes over to her. “If I may drag you out of your sopor, I believe I’ve seen that look before.”

I flinched. “I’m not wallowing in guilt, really!” I blurted out, before cringing at the obvious lie.

Zecora chuckled and pointed at stoppered vial of milky yellow liquid that was lying on the floor in front of me. She then pointed to Pinkie. “This potion will free her from her chains. For the cure to the poison joke, tomorrow you must come again.”

I picked up the vial in my teeth and looked over at the paralyzed pink pony.

“Should I?” I asked through the vial in my teeth. Zecora nodded. My hoof trembled as I stepped towards Pinkie Pie. Pinkie’s eyes moved over to me as I came closer to her. I paused and placed the vial on the floor. Holding the vial in place with my hooves, I pulled the stopper out and then picked it up in my teeth again. I gently lowered the vial to Pinkie’s open mouth and poured a few drops in.

As soon as the droplets of liquid hit Pinkie’s tongue, they exploded across it like a wave, filling her mouth with a milky yellow sheen, before retreating into her throat. Unperturbed, I poured a few more drops in.

“That tickles!” rasped a now twitching Pinkie. I shushed her and held her mouth still with my forehooves, pouring the rest of the potion in as a trickle of liquid down her throat.

Pinkie shot up, her mane inflating like a balloon. “I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!” she screamed, causing some of the jars on the shelves to rattle.

I held my hooves to my ears and closed my eyes. Maybe I should have waited a day before curing her.

I felt hooves wrap around me, crushing down on me. I opened my eyes.

Pinkie’s face leered down on me, glowing green eyes glinting cruelly. Pinkie’s teeth seemed to grow crooked and sharp in front of my eyes as I trembled before her touch.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” she asked.

I shook my pounding head.

“—stick a cupcake in my eye!” Pinkie finished shouting. Her eyes had returned to their original baby blue state and her teeth were perfectly aligned and completely herbivorous. My head was a drum and her every word smashed it to make pure cacophony.

I looked over at Zecora to see if she had noticed anything, but before I had even turned my head around, Pinkie had shot over to her and grabbed her in a bear hug. They toppled to the floor in a tangle, knocking over a few ingredients from the wall. Smoke rose from the ingredients, and I smelled a faint acrid odor fill the air.

“And you! I can’t believe I thought you were a creepy evil enchantress! You’re the nicest enchantress ever! You’re still kind of creepy, though,” Pinkie babbled at Zecora, “But that’s okay! Some ponies call me crazy, and I don’t mind! I bet you’re a blast at Nightmare Night Parties!”

Zecora frowned over at me, unamused. I smiled sheepishly. She looked at the door, then Pinkie, then me. I nodded and tapped Pinkie on the shoulder.

She got off of Zecora, twirled around, and bounced up and down. “Yes?” asked Pinkie.

“Won’t your parents, um, be looking for you?” I tugged at her gently, waving my hoof at the door.

Pinkie gasped. “Oh, no! The Cakes! They’re going to be so worried that I didn’t show up today!”

I nodded. “We should get you back home.” I frowned. Cakes? Wasn’t she Pinkie Pie? Or was she an orphan who had recently been taken in by the Cakes? Was her loud behavior because she was starved for attention? My eyes softened as I led her out of Zecora’s home. Poor thing.

As I turned to wave Zecora goodbye, her eyes seemed to swivel between myself and Pinkie Pie. She sighed and smiled softly. “Butterfly, no matter the reason why, if you need an open ear remember that I am here.”

My eyes teared up. I turned back and opened my mouth, but any words that I was going to say died in my throat. “Okay,” I squeaked out. As I walked out the door, my legs turned heavy. I felt as if I had been running all day, and was now back on the road once again.

I plodded on, barely paying attention to the noises coming from Pinkie’s direction. I was so engrossed with my thoughts I that I didn’t notice that Pinkie had stopped talking until she put her hoof on my shoulder.

“Butters? Are you okay?” she asked.

I blinked. Butters? I shook myself out of my reverie and turned to her. Her hoof rested steadily on my shoulder and her eyes stared at me, focused and serious. I edged away slightly from the intensity of her gaze. I turned my head away and hid behind my mane, eyes peering out. “I’m fine.”

Pinkie pursed her lips. “I’m sorry about trying to force you to have a party. I didn’t know you don’t like parties. I thought everypony liked parties, but…”

From my position of safety behind my mane, I scrunched my face up as my eyes darted to my mane. The green dye was definitely chipping off now. I couldn’t go back to Ponyville like this. “It’s okay, Pinkie,” I replied, “I’m fine.”

Pinkie squeezed my shoulder. “Did you mean what you said back there?” she asked. Her voice seemed mellower and quieter. I turned my head towards her. Her eyes slanted to the side, as if she were afraid to look at me.

I blinked. “I’m fine?” I asked, not sure what she was getting at.

Pinkie smiled, relaxing slightly, and scuffed me playfully. “No, silly filly! That I’m your friend!”

I stared at her. “…Yes.” I felt something twist in my gut.

Pinkie smiled. It wasn’t a loud or noisy smile. She smiled like Angel Bunny did when he tucked me into bed, back when I was a young filly. She smiled a nice, quiet smile. “Well, I meant what I said back there. About finding a way to thank you without parties. I made a Pinkie Promise, and I never break a Pinkie Promise.”

The twisting feeling in my gut faded away as I nodded slowly. Her next words, though, caused the feeling to rise back up with a vengeance.

Pinkie grinned mischievously. “So, need help fighting any meanie monsters?”

I choked on my own spit. What? How did… What?

My hooves clutched my throat I as I coughed to clear it out. As my coughing spasms ceased, I rasped out “What?”

Pinkie waved one of her hooves as if waving away my question, and used the other to steady me. “Oh, please,” she replied casually as if she wasn’t threatening to expose my very life to… somepony. I wasn’t sure what she was threatening to do with her information, actually. I adjusted my ears and kept my eyes warily on her, body tensed for her next words.

“You’re a ninja wizard. Of course you’re gonna be saving Equestria from evil meanies from a thousand years ago! Can I join? I’ll be the comic relief!”

What? Just what?

I breathed out a short huff of relief and exasperation.

“I’m not a wizard or a ninja,” I argued, “I’m just a pony who likes helping other ponies.”

Pinkie grinned unnervingly. “That’s just what a heroic ninja wizard on a quest to save Equestria would say!” she practically sang.

I shook my head. She wouldn’t be saying that so happily if she knew what I really was.

Smiling, I drew out the tree branch from Slammer’s chest. His screams of agony filled my ears like the crow of a rooster, echoing through my mind as I woke up from a bloody haze.

I shuddered. “I’m not the kind of hero anypony deserves.” With one exception, of course. My thoughts drifted back to the Ponyville market square.

“But you’re the hero Ponyville needs!” Pinkie snickered as if she had just said something hilarious. I rolled my eyes. We had made it to the edge of the Everfree forest. The trees around were growing thinner and straighter and shards of light poked through the canopy. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I replied to Pinkie, “Well, I’m not a ninja or a wizard. And you need to come back tomorrow. You still have some poison joke running through your system.”

Pinkie nodded. “Okay!”

I stopped walking. “Okay, then,” I said before awkwardly adding, “Um, bye.”

Pinkie stopped. “What? But when I tell the Cakes you saved my life we’ll have to throw… Oh.” She bit her lip awkwardly. “Well, do you know if Zecora likes parties?”

I looked at the ground and drew a circle with my hoof. “Um, probably not.” I replied. Seeing the distraught look on her face, I added, “You can ask her when we see her tomorrow, though.”

Pinkie nodded. “Okie dokie lokie! It’s a date!” She bounced off.

My heart stopped for a minute, before I decided that thinking about anything she said wasn’t worth the trouble. I sighed and wiped the sweat from my face. That pink pony was a menace. Forget timberwolves, she would be the one to kill me one day. She would just say something one day, and I would have a heart attack and die. My epitaph would read, “Fluttershy: Joked to Death.”

I turned around and looked at the wooden knives strapped to my legs. I walked over to the hollow log where I usually kept them. As I bent down to unlock it, Pinkie’s voice burst out from behind me.

“Hi!”

I tripped and landed on my face. As I picked myself off of the ground, I wiped the mud off my face and responded, “Yes, Pinkie?”

“Sorry about this, but could you get rid of that spell you cast on me earlier?” Her baby blue eyes shone honestly as she asked the question. Not the faintest hint of a smile was present on her face. She seemed completely serious.

“Um,” I replied, not looking at her, “spell?”

“You know, the one where you stared at me so scarily and were all ‘Be quiet and follow me!’” she spoke in a scary deep voice as she mimicked me. I scuffed at the ground. Was that really how I sounded? “And then I couldn’t talk or do anything but follow you! Oh, and can I party again? I’d really like to do that too.”

I coughed. “Um, okay. What do I do to free you?”

She struck a thoughtful pose, with her hoof under her chin as her Sherclop Pones hat reappeared on her head. “Well,” she began, “I could talk again after you said I could, so I think if you tell me I can stop following you, I should be free.”

I nodded slowly and said, “You can stop following me. And you can party.”

Pinkie beamed and bounced away again. “Thanks!”

I stared after her. Did I really put a spell on her? I looked at a nearby bush and cleared my throat. I stared at it, trying to channel my magical energies. “Rise!” I commanded, feeling foolish. A gopher stood up from the bush and looked at me quizzically. I blinked. I addressed the gopher, “Oh, I didn’t mean you, Greg.”

Greg the Gopher nodded and disappeared back into the bush. I stared after him as I put my knives away. Maybe I was a wizard.