A warrior's Lullabye

                                           Prologue

It was dark in the Everfree forest. Even though the night was upon Equestria, the outside world could be considered bright in comparison to the inky darkness enveloping the deep towering trunks. Still, a few rays of moonlight did manage to sink their way past the thick leaves and branches of the Everfree forest's branches, giving many of the creatures of the forest just enough light to see with; if, of course, these were the nocturnal animals. Ponies were not nocturnal, so the wild ponies of the Everfree forest couldn’t see well in the dark, therefore did not stray far from their clans camps once dusk fell upon them.

However, the rogues of the forest had no where to hide from the creatures of the dark. One such pony was running through the forest, trying to escape the evil that hid in the shadows. His heart pounded as he ran, desperately hoping not to trip and fall, he would die if he did. He looked to his left and saw bright green eyes from the brush, glaring at him; this gave him the purpose to run with a bit more speed.

Suddenly, all went silent, for a moment he almost thought he may have lost them. But he knew better than to get his hopes up, silencing his mind a moment later, Timberwolves were not so casually escaped. They were smart animals, apex predators in fact, making them near impossible to escape once they set their eyes on you.

He was ripped from his thoughts as he tripped over a gnarled tree root jutting from the forest floor, he fell to the ground on his stomach. He quickly rolled over to his feet, took out his hatchets, looking all around himself warily. In the brush, the glowing green eyes gave away the positions of his hunters. He was surrounded, and his chances of survival were one in a million. He knew this was the end, but he simply refused to die without fighting back. Pretending he had a chance to survive was better than lying down and accepting death as it was, he just couldn't bring himself to die like that if he tried, he feared death too much.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, and glaring back at the predators who still did nothing but watch him from the brush. He was beginning to grow nervous. He knew what they were doing, too; they were waiting for him to attempt to run. And he wanted to run. Every bone and muscle in his body screamed at him to run for his life; to try and outrun them again. He knew it wouldn't happen that way, though. He knew if he ran he would die, he shivered at the thought of death, he knew he'd go to Starclan but, still.... dying was his worst fear of all.  So he forced his body to stay where it was, to try to get them to make the first move. It seemed to be hours, though it probably had only been fifteen minutes, the Timberwolves finally got impatient though.

They all slowly walked out of the brush, crouched down, ready to pounce as one. The rogue instantly buffed up, puffing up his fur, and began growling and showing his teeth in an attempt to get them to back down. As he expected, it failed quite severely, herbivores aren't good at scaring predators. Once they got in striking range he quickly swung his left arm at them, they responded to this by jumping back and barking at him, snarls on their faces. He then swung to the left, they jumped back again.

Finally, one of the wolves behind him pounced upon his back, digging its claws into his flesh for grip as it attempted to sink its teeth into his neck. He yelped, turning to his attacker and lashing at it with his hatchet, slashing through the wooden flesh of his enemy. The rest of the pack was apon him in moment's, sending him sailing back to the ground. He flailed, kicked, slashed, even bit, but it was all in vain as his flesh ripped,  new wounds were cut open soon after those ones.

Suddenly, he saw a large dark shape coming up behind the Timberwolves. The figure beat and slammed a large, long object into them, somehow managing to get them to flee. He was no longer being assaulted, but was fatally wounded. He felt chunks of flesh missing, deep gashes across his body, and warm sticky liquid all over himself.

He stared at the figure who had saved him as his vision slowly began to grow hazy. Fear swept over him as he tried to get up, but his body convulsed in agony before he even attempted to move. His vision only grew more blurred by the second, until everything finally went black.

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His eyes slowly opened to an unrecognizable room. His vision was still blurry, preventing him from recognizing anything about his surroundings. As his vision grew less blurred, he realized he didn't know where he was at all. He looked around to see many masks that he could find no word to describe other than evil, as well as bottles, and a large boiling pot in the center of the room. He groaned as he tried to sit up, only to yelp as a sharp pain shot through his left side.

“Do not attempt to sit up, your wounds have lessened much, but you still are ill. Lay in rest so your wounds may mend.”

He looked around to find a mare in an animal skin dress which had one strap across her left shoulder, the skin dress went down to her shins.

He looked her up and down, her fur design consisted of black and white stripes, he raised an eyebrow at her as he cocked his head curiously,  “Who... who are you?”

The mare smiled at him  as she picked up a bottle and looked it over, “I am Zecora, owner of where you stay. Now you know my name, but what name have you?”

His eye's widened in surprise at this as a nervous frown came to his face,  “Um.... my name...” He wasn't sure it was safe to tell her or not, but he knew that it was rude not to tell somepony your name when they did the same first, and she saved his life so he owed her his name if nothing else. “My name is... Firesong .”

The mare put a finger to her lip thoughtfully as she looked him over, “Hmm. A peculiar name for one so different as I have never seen in all my days. Tell me, where are your people?”

He furrowed his eyebrows at this as an insulted  frown came to his face, "Huh?" He assumed she was asking where he came from, "does she truly believe I would ever tell *her*- a stranger about the clans?", “None of your business...”

She stared at him calmly before nodding, “Very well, I will ask no more of you but to rest.”

He said nothing and lay back on the bed -though it was much more like a cot than a bed- and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

He heard walking and the close of a door shortly after, followed by silence. He quickly opened his eyes, forcing himself to get to his hooves. It was an agonizingly slow process, but he finally managed to stand, holding onto the cot for support. He let go of it after a moment to see if he could find his way out of the room before she came back. A moment later, he fell to the ground in a heap, groaning in pain.

He heard the door open, the mare was back inside the room almost instantly. She had an eyebrow raised in amusement, “do you take me for a fool? You have been lame a month now. Walking out this door will never happen on your own, I can help, but you must allow me to do what I must.”

He glared at her. Her odd way of talking was beginning to grow annoying to him, but he sighed submissively, “fine, do what must be done.”

She raised an eyebrow, this time not amused as a frown came to her face. “A simple please or thank you will help your case..”

He glared at her and growled, saying, “...Please... help me…”

She smiled as she said, “I would be happy to lend my aid.” She walked over to her shelf and got a bottle, she popped the cork, pouring the bottles concoction into a bowl. she walked over to him with a gentle smile, "drink this potion and I promise you will be strong again."

He stared at it warily, afraid she might be poisoning him, he glared at her, "I don't trust you, I refuse to drink it."

She nodded in understanding, "I must drink first before you will do the same", se took the bowl and drank a gulp, she shivered and shuddered, "it is does not taste well, but I am fine."

Firesong sighed as he nodded and took the bowl and drank it all in one huge gulp. He started gagging, but managed to keep it down.

Zecora giggled a bit, "as I said, it does not taste good, but it will help you get strong. try to stand young Firesong."

Firesong nodded and tried to stand, he easily stood, but his legs were wobbly, he had poor balance, "um.. how long was I out for?"

Zecora gave him a stoic look, "a month, I feared you were dead and was going to bury you, just when you woke up."

Firesong nodded.

Zecora put his left arm around her neck, she said, “Move your hooves, so you may get your blood flowing, and you will be free to go as you please my young Firesong.”

He said nothing, and she led him around the room several times. After their fourth lap, she let go of him, “Now, try to walk, and you may see the good I have done for you.”

He took a slow, cautious step forward, followed by another, legs wobbling. After walking around a bit, limping more than walking, he turned to her and smiled as he said, “Thank you... Zecora.”

She smiled and nodded, “As I said before, it is my pleasure to aid you, young Firesong.”

Firesong then looked around curiously,“...Where are my... weapons?”

Zecora raised an eyebrow at this in confusion, “Weapons?”  I  saw no weapons when I found you, only a dying pony. I apologize for this.”

He sighed sadly at this as he shook his head, a hand raised to her, "No, no, it's okay... Thank you.”

She nodded, saying, “Be wary, Firesong. They say Timberwolves never forget the scent of their prey. If they find you... you will die.

Firesong nodded in acknowledgment. “I know.” He proceeded to walk out of the hut. He didn't know where he would go, but he was sure he could find a good place to rest. But the Timber wolves barked at him in the back of his mind, and the thought of resting was eliminated almost immediately. He limped on, hoping to find a way out of the Everfree forest. That was his only hope for survival. He didn't know what lay outside it, or if it even ended. All he knew was that he had to find a way out.