Collision

"We've sent a messenger to the Griffon Capital telling them you're here. We should know what to do with you in a day or so. Plus, they might even send us a transport unit! That'd speed things up."

"So we're stuck here, in the middle of a scary forest, while a changeling hive attacks the Griffon Kingdom?"

"Sounds about right."

Joan sighed. "Why didn't I stay on Earth again?"

The Griffon Camp was small, eight or so slightly raised simple wood buildings which had been made of the trees near it, and patched up with a rough canvas fabric where needed. Around the whole thing was a fence, with points that had been roughly sharpened.

The day passed fairly quickly, and the ponies mostly sat around making small talk. She'd talked to the beige unicorn who it turned out was named Card Stock - ponies liked puns, she'd decided - and she was hoping to work in the art-related industry. Assuming ponies had something like that. And a craft place if not. Craft was inevitable, Card insisted. Joan was pretty sure she hasn't seen anybody get that worked up about arts and crafts before, but after she slammed her hooves on the table, she assured Card that she would take her word for it.

The griffons went about their business as usual, guarding the perimeter, talking, using the mess-hall, occasionally going on patrols in the forest. Gwyn stuck his head in the mess-hall every few hours, and Joan got the feeling he just did it so he could see her.

At lunch, Gwyn called her over to his building.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you might... want to have lunch with me."

"Like, a date? Really?"

"Well, you don't have to say yes. I would never force anyone under my protection to do something like that if they did't want to."

"I will, if you give me the latest news."

He laughed. "Alright. I know you ponies aren't too fond of the meat, right?"

"Haven't been able to even think of eating the stuff since my conversion."

"Thought as much. Had the chef send over some of the salad he makes. Bit of a strange one, but it works out, huh?"

"I suppose it does," she said, then scooped up the bowl in her front hooves. "I don't think I'm going to be a terribly neat eater, with these hooves of mine."

He picked up his own bowl. "I don't think that'll be much of a problem. I'm used to eating with griffons."

The two of them ate their way through a few bowls of salad (Gwyn made a show of not using his claws, which Joan thought was both touching and hilarious).

"What the deal with the changeling attacks?" Joan asked between mouthfuls.

"Well, the running theory is that they're running low on food, since they attacked Canterlot. Since they failed there, they must be running pretty low by now. Infiltration takes lots of time, and a couple thousand drones must take a lot of emotion to feed, y'know?"

"What emotions do they eat, anyway?"

"This hive? I hear love, mostly. I think they're capable of eating most of them, but they're not all as useful."

"Must be weird, eating something intangible," she said, crunching a leaf for emphasis.

"I've seen them eat regular food, too," he said, "but they don't really seem to be terribly fond of most of it."

"You see that in-between tossing them around?" she said, with a lopsided smile.

"You could say that."

"Speaking of invading monsters, when's the lift supposed to show up to get us out of here?"

"The return message won't make it here until sundown at the earliest, so not soon. I'm sorry about that, I know a battlefield isn't really much of a hot vacation spot."

"No, it really isn't."

The griffon messenger returned at sundown as Gwyn had expected, and came bearing bad news. The Griffon War Council had decided that all griffon air transports needed to be used to aid the anti-changeling effort, but that the newfoals could stay as long as they liked, and if the changelings were defeated or left, they would gladly send them a transport.

"So what, I'm stuck here?"

"Well, the nearest pony settlement is about a day or two's fast walk from here. It's not safe on the roads, either."

"Holed up in a griffon camp isn't how I'm going to be spending my first month as a pony. You have a map that shows it?"

"Yes, I do. Are you going to traipse out there alone if I do?"

"Hey, other newfoals? Who wants to come with me on a long, hot, life threatening journey?"

No hooves went up.

"So, yeah, I will."

Gwyn sighed. "I'll come with you, then. Can't have you getting yourself killed, that'd be one heck of a diplomatic disaster."

"Great."

"Plus, I think I like you."

She rolled her eyes. "We just met."

They stood at the edge of the griffon camp, with the camping and survival equipment they'd packed. She was carrying food and water rations in a makeshift pair of saddlebags, and he had the tend and sleeping bags. Just before they set out, they heard a call.

"Hey, wait! We're coming with you," said Raspberry. He was followed by Sour and Card, and the three of them trotted over.

"It's not safe where we're going, ponies."

"It's not safe here either!"

"He's got you there, the changelings could show up here any minute..."

"You don't have any gear."

"Oh, hey, there you are," said a female griffon, rolling out what looked like three-ponies worth of supplies, "I brought the stuff you wanted."

"Ugh."

They took a less established path, since Gwyn said the changelings were likely watching the ones they normally used. The newfoals kept up with Gwyn reasonably well, and pretty soon the five of them had fallen into a routine. They passed by a few ponds (which Gwyn said were full of carnivorous fish) and various trees that Joan insisted were almost identical, and that she was an earth pony and would know.

The ponies tried to talk a few times, but Gwyn shushed them almost immediately. Which made sense, Joan supposed, since there were probably changelings close by. Possibly even a hive, if they were fighting with the griffons, an invasion was hard to maintain without a place to camp, she supposed.

"I need to make a stop," Gwyn said, as they came into view of a large pyramid-like ruin.

The ponies stared at him.

"What could you possibly need to get from a ruin?"

"Is there gold in there? Other treasure?"

"Ah, no. We set a changeling trap in there a while ago, and I need to check to see if any of them triggered it. Just wait here and try not to look too vulnerable. Back in a second."

Gwyn ducked inside the ruin. The ponies waited.

"How long was this supposed to take?"

"Maybe a changeling ate him?"

"Unlikely," said a voice from behind them, "since we're out here eating you."

Joan felt all of the muscles in her body try to tense up all at the same time, and the largest shot of adrenaline she had ever felt. She knew when humans felt it they could lift cars. She figured she could probably toss one all the way across this clearing as an earth pony.

"Hey!" she shouted, "how about you brutes pick on somepony your own size?"

"You are our size-"

The changeling got a face full of hoof as Joan flung herself forward. She felt jaw crunch under her hoof, and mentally noted there were more where that came from. She pirouetted on her front hooves, and caught another two in the neck with her shin.

Which is when the changelings caught on, and rushed her all at once. She felt her not-quite-healed side sting as a changeling head-butted her in the side, sharp horn making the cut even worse. The changeling smirked as she fell, licked the blood dripping down his face.

"It's not often you get a second chance at a fight. You ponies fight like cowards."

Gwyn looked out from the ruins, watching the fight. Or rather, watched Joan getting kicked by the changelings, having already lost. The other three seemed to scared to move, and the changelings were ignoring them, for now. What the love collectors said was true, he decided. Letting a mark get hurt was tough.

He had his order, though, straight from the Queen.

He could almost feel the pain himself as she got kicked again, and felt what little love he'd been taking from her nearly stop.

Orders could go take a swim in the nearest bog, he decided. He marched outside, over to the changelings.

"Squad leader! We were wondering where you'd gone-"

Gwyn pointed at the cowering ponies.

"We were going to finish them off later."

Gwyn charged his horn, and the eyes of the three ponies flashed. "Does the Queen know you're wasting resources?"

"Well-"

"Leave the mare to me. I have plans for her."

"As you wish. Make her suffer, squad leader."

"Go back to the hive."

Joan hurt, everywhere. Her working theory was that one of the changelings had decided to eat her whole.

"Wake up. You're safe. C'mon, wake up."

She groaned at the touch on her shoulder.

"Go away. I'm digesting."

"Look, wake up. It's not safe out here."

Gwyn stuck his hoof under hers, and pulled her into a sitting position. Joan's eyes shot open once she had a good view of things.

"Gwyn! Where's the others?" she asked, frantically.

"Turns out the changelings knew we were coming. They must have found the trap and knew we'd be here eventually."

"We have go save them," she said, putting her hoof on his chest, "or get some reinforcements and come back!"

"We can't do that. The treaty only provides common courtesies, the Griffon Kingdom would never send soldiers into a doomed fight, when they're needed elsewhere."

"So what, you're going to leave them to get killed, or eaten, or worse?"

"We don't know where the hive is, and it's getting late. We need to keep moving."

"Fine. I'm not going to talk to you then."

The hive loomed in the forest as the changelings carried the three ponies through the air. They stirred as they approached, stunning spell wearing off. The top of the hive was sharp looking, skinny spires coming off the sides.

"Ungh," said Raspberry Delight, and opened his eyes, then immediately shut them as he noticed where he was.

"Hey, you bugs!" shouted Sour Kiss, "Take us back!"

The changelings ignored them as the struggled, and flew down through an opening in the hive, which led down to the chrysalis room, far at the bottom

They flew over to the far end of the room, and landed in front of three pods.

"C'mon, you don't have to do this! I'm sure we can just, y'know, hang out or something!"

The changelings shoved them into the pods.

They'd walked a fair ways farther in the forest, until the sun had gone near all the way down, and it was getting hard to see.

"We need to stop, and make camp."

Joan grunted a reply.

They'd soon got the tent together, and the forest had begun to get cold, almost as if to ask those unlucky enough to be caught in it if they preferred the hot better.

"While we have two bag, I was wondering if I could-"

"Take the first watch awake? Good idea."

Gwyn was sitting in the tent, looking out the small window in the end. He could hear Joan's quiet sleeping breaths. He decided he didn't really understand ponies very well. He must be missing something obvious. He'd complimented her, fought beside her in battle, and rescued her when it seemed all was lost. The love collectors made this sound much easier than it was.

Over the hive link, he could hear the Queen sending new strategy messages, but he ignored them, since they weren't being sent to his squad. He had more important things to think about anyway.

What hadn't he done, though? Maybe he wasn't heroic enough. She seemed to like the heroic type, so he'd play that up the next time he got a chance, and see if that worked any better.

He stared off into the darkness.

Joan was running the past few years of memories back in her head. A few years back, before all this Equestria and conversion business had happened, she had been in a relationship. His name was Phil Hendes, and he was, frankly, an incurable charmer. They'd done the usual thing, gone to restaurants and movies, and had, at once point, kissed.

She'd introduced him to her best friend of the time Tissa Milland, and they'd got along splendidly.

She'd gone to his place to surprise him, to find the front door open and unlocked, and strained grunts coming from upstairs through the thin screen door. She'd snuck up the stairs, and peeked in the room, to find him and her best friend in bed together.

"It's not what it looks like," he said, as she stood in the door, feeling her heart get ripped in two. Tissa said nothing, under the blanket the two of them had hastily pulled over them, as if they could pretend it hadn't happened if Joan couldn't see it.

"Goodbye, Phil," she said, and left, door open and screen door slowly, squeakily closing.