A Song of Pony and Changeling, Book 1: Games Ponies Play

Carrot Top

The cold bit into Carrot Top’s withers, and she pulled her cloak tighter around herself. “Come on, Kindling. Let’s just go back. There’s probably a warm fire and some stew waiting for us.”

“Not yet.” Kindling growled at her, looking all comfy in his furry cloak and warm leggings. Some of them had to make do with their coats and cloaks. But not when you’re the son of some minor lord in the Crystal Kingdom. When that happens and you take the Shadow Pledge, you get nice wooly clothes and a good sword. Carrot Top had to make do with hoof-me-down threadbare cloaks and some rusty sword with a wire-wrapped wooden handle. It splintered her tongue sometimes.

“Scout’ll be back with word any minute.”

“Scout’s always going to be back ‘any minute.’” Carrot Top muttered under her breath. She hunkered down in her cloak and shivered some more, stamping the hard-packed snow under her hooves to try and return feeling to her legs. Kindling either didn’t hear her or he was too busy listening ahead.

“There she is.” Kindling nodded towards the path, and Carrot Top watched as Scout flapped in through the snowy branches of the pines all around them.

“It’s strange,” Scout ruffled her feathers and lighted in front of them, “I could have sworn those damn changelings were camped out ahead of us, but there’s no sign of them. There’s a tent and what looks like a fire, but no sign of the wild black bastards. The fire’s cold, near as I could tell.”

“Did you check the tent?” Kindling sniped. Scout shook her head solemnly.

“Couldn’t get close enough.”

“You idiot.” Kindling scoffed and shoved her aside. “We need to go take another look.”

“They could just be out hunting.” Carrot Top complained. “I don’t feel like walking into a trap like that.”

“Please.” Kindling patted his sword. “We can handle any dirty changeling attack. Come on, our task’s not done until we at least take a closer look. Scout, you’re on point. Carrot Top, you next. You’re a pony of the Shadowbolts, you’d best start acting like it.”

Carrot Top groaned and shared a solemn look with Scout. Kindling, being the son of a lord in the Crystal Kingdom, felt like he had something to prove to the Shadowbolts. Like he wanted to be Lord Commander. Carrot Top just groaned and pulled her sword free, clenching the splintered handle in her teeth. Scout just drew her own blade and flapped off, leading the way through the winding trees.

It was cold. Bitterly cold. Carrot Top was shivering in her cloak as she and Kindling shuffled along the hard-packed path towards the camp.

“Stop.” The call came to her through the trees. Scout flapped back, her face pale. “It wasn’t like that before.” She whispered. “What happened up there… That’s new.”

“What? What is it?” Kindling grumbled, glaring up at the hovering pegasus.

“Go take a look for yourself.” Scout landed next to Carrot Top, shivering from more than the cold now. Carrot Top left Scout and followed after a grumpy Kindling.

Nothing could have prepared her for the camp.

“By the stars,” She sheathed her blade and stared at the viscera laid about the camp. There were detached limbs still oozing viscous black blood onto the snow, insectoid heads of changelings impaled upon spikes, torsos with entrails strung about in disgusting patterns. The whole area smelled like a bug had flown into the lamp’s flame and burned to death. Carrot Top fought the urge to vomit.

“No pony did this.” Kindling kept his sword out, though he entered the ring of bodies.

“Was it Timberwolves?”

“Please. Timberwolves are every bit as dead as Dragons.” Kindling nudged a disembodied leg aside, poking the tip of his sword through one of the empty holes. “No, something else did this…”

“Bears?”

“Too organized.” Kindling pointed to the clear-cut circle of body parts. “Poor changelings. Evil as they are, I wouldn’t wish this on anything. It’s too vicious. Too cruel. Okay. New plan.” Kindling righted himself and glared at Carrot Top. “We return to Commander Punch. She needs to know of our scouting mission.”

“What of Pinkie Pie? Isn’t she head of the scouting division?”

“Off visiting Shining Armor in the Crystal Capitol.” Kindling shook his head. “We report straight to-” Kindling was cut off by a rattling in the trees. Slowly, the two of them turned back to the path that led to the camp, their swords drawn.

“Scout! Is that you?!” Kindling called out. Their eyes were fixed on the treeline, watching, waiting for any sign. The rattling came again, closer this time. It sounded like something moving through the trees, brushing aside snow-laden branches and approaching them rapidly.

“You guys!” Scout burst forth from the treeline, looking even more pale than usual. “There’s-HRK!”

Carrot Top froze as two feet of an icy-looking blade ripped through Scout’s throat. Her blood poured down the blade, steaming as it dripped to the packed snow floor. The blade ripped out the side of her neck, spilling her lifeblood and staining the snow red, to match the changeling’s black blood.

“You fiend!” Kindling snarled, approaching the creature behind Scout’s prone body. He brandished his blade, growling as he swung it at the equine creature. Too late. Carrot Top watched with horror as Kindling’s well-wrought castle-forged blade shattered against the blood-soaked sword of the creature. He cried out and recoiled, clenching his hoof. His legging was black and shone with a sheen of ice. He hardly had time to cry out once more before the beast swung the icy blade around, parting his head from his body.

Blood sprayed into the air in a gross arc, painting a line in the snow. Carrot Top watched, horrified, as the horse picked up the disembodied head by its mane. With a simple motion, it tossed it to Carrot Top. Kindling’s dead eyes stared straight up at Carrot Top, even as more blood leaked out of the stump of his neck.

Carrot Top ran. She ran faster than she’d ever run before. All the while, crying a single word through the tears and the pain.

“Wendigos.”