Laying down the net over the hole, Charles turned to pick up the pile of leaves behind him, turning back to toss them over the net. The leaves fluttered down, settling on top of the net, some slipping through and dropped to the floor below. Masking the hole from view as it blended in with the rest of the forest floor.
Charles nodded to himself before walking away.
He was going to get something to eat this time and it was going to be meat, no more berries and edible leaves.
Living in the forest he head learned that none of the things he could eat were actually deadly, his body just reacted badly to them, sometimes making him ill, others making him tired.
But not this time.
Even if he didn’t want to eat the meat, his body needed it. Finding himself to grow weaker and weaker the more time went on, even with his now active lifestyle. His body becoming slimmer ever so slowly.
He had watched a bunch of strange looking horses walk the trail that he had trapped. Deciding that horse meat didn’t sound so bad. As oddly colorful as they were, they would make easy prey. Not only did they stand out from the forest, their bright coats contrasting with the brown of the dirt and trees.
Climbing a tree, he rose to the tallest branch that gave him clear view of the trap. Watching and waiting for any of the horses to fall into it. His gut knotted at the thought of eating them. A strange sense of guilt bubbling up in the back of his mind, only to be pushed back down as his stomach clenched and growled. His gut feeling as if it had been stabbed.
Settling his back against the tree, he pulled the pack from his back so it settled in his lap. Opening the outer pocket and peering inside to look at an assortment of berries.
Red goes to bed. Blue gives you the flu. With black, there’s no going back. And yellow gets you mellow. Charles recited in his head.
Reaching for the red berries, he grabbed a handful of them. Popping the lump covered berries in his mouth, he cringed as the tart juices washed over his tongue. Feeling his body relax the moment he swallowed.
In the trees he wasn’t worried about any of the animals. The giant cats with bat wings couldn’t get him, their massive size inhibited them from climbing trees and their wings were too tiny to even lift them off of the ground. And the lizard chickens couldn’t get him if his eyes were closed. Having almost lost his legs to them made them a sort of hidden danger.
As his body began to grow heavy, he closed his eyes. Giving a sigh as sleep took him.
Golden wasn’t one to cheat but if she was going to win the competition, her carrots needed a little boost.
The Harvest of Champions, a new competition introduced the year before to promote large harvests and sales.
Those who had farms in which their livelihood was based around would grow as many crops in the amount of time given, and would bring the amount harvested to the market where they would sell the increased amount of food for a cheaper price. The prices would draw ponies from different cities and towns.
And the pony who earned the most bits were announced the winner, and given a medal, along with the ability to increase the size of their land that they grew their crops. Or, in Golden’s case, given a plot of land that is owned by the town until the next Harvest of Champions.
Walking down the path to Zecora’s home, her ears swiveled and snapped towards any little sound. This was the Everfree after all, so many things could lead to being injured or worse.
She wanted to ask Zecora for a potion that could make her carrots have just a bit more flavor, not so much to the point that it’s obvious that she cheated, but enough that ponies would want to buy even more of her carrots than they did with Applejack’s apples.
With her thoughts turning to Applejack, Golden frowned. Applejack was one of her rivals in the farming business. She’s a nice mare, but when it comes to business, personal feelings can’t get in the way of making money.
Having ate some of Applejack’s apples, Golden hated to say it but; they were delicious. Crisp to the point where when you bit into one, it would give off a satisfying crunch, but once you did so, your mouth would flood with the sugary sweetness of the juices. The back of your head buzzing with energy.
And that’s what Golden wanted out of her carrots, to be able to have customers eat them, and want even more.
Her trail of thought was broken as the ground beneath her hoof gave away. Falling forward with a yelp, only for her world to go dark as pain stabbed into her body. Her body getting heavy as she fell unconscious.
Looking down into the pit, Charles sniffed. Blinking as he wiped away any hints of crying. He didn’t want to do it, but he had to. Going after one of the cats was dangerous, and something he did not want to repeat. Having learned his lesson after being stung by the scorpion tail on the backside of one of them. It was a grueling two weeks of constant vomiting, sweating, and his bowels evacuating at any given moment.
And the lizard chickens were something he didn’t want to risk, being turned to stone didn’t sound like fun. And neither did trying to chase one with his eyes closed.
Closing his eyes, Charles gave a wavering sigh. A lump in his throat as he fought tears. A strange feeling in his gut, it was as if he had seen this animal before. He hadn't of course, but it was something he couldn’t ignore.
He hoped the berries help minimize the pain, having mixed the red, yellow, and black ones in a kind of thick paste he smeared on the sticks he buried in the pit. The sticks pointing to the sky with their sharpened points.
Looking down once more, he stared at the corpse that was speared through multiple points on its body. The yellow coat stained with blood and the brown paste made of berries.
Squatting down he picked up the corners of the nets and began to lift the horse out of the hole. Wet squelching came from the body as the spears slipped out of it.
As he brought the body of the horse to the lip of the pit, he reached out a hand to remove a spear that had stayed in. Gripping the warm, blood covered wood, he gave a hard tug, the spear slipped out quickly with a little blood spattering his hand as it did so.
Standing up, he lifted the horse as he did so, throwing the body over his shoulder, cringing and grinding his teeth as warm blood crawled down his back. Like fingers tracing the the spine of his back, it made his body tremble at the feeling. Excitement, fear, shame.
Walking back to his home he was silent the whole way back, no thoughts, nothing. The forest mimicked him, the only sound was his footsteps, the light pounding of dirt as he stepped through the forest.
After what seemed like an hour of walking and tracing his trail back, Charles had reached the cave he called home, deciding to sit at the entrance, he laid the body on the stone floor as he went to the circle of stones that he had called a fire pit. Moving them closer to the entrance he placed them back in a circle, save one.
With rock in hand, he took a step towards the body of the horse. Turning it over, he gave a scream as the head followed, wide, lifeless eyes stared at him. A sense of guilt washing over him.
Charles shook his head and the fear that permeated his being. Trying to rid himself of the guilt that riddled him. But no matter what he did or how hard he shook, of course it wasn't just going to go away.
Lifting one of its legs, he placed a foot on its midsection, with a quick jerk and a sickening crunch, the leg came loose from the rest of the body, only held together by flesh now. Bringing the rock to the shoulder, he began to scrape at the flesh, jerking the limb and using the rock to separate the leg from the body.
The fingers wrapped around the rock began to grow wet as blood began to spill over them and the rock. The warmth of it making him pick up the pace as his heart began to beat faster and faster. The eyes staring up from behind dirtied orange curls made his chest tighten.
Reaching around his back, he pushed his hand under his backpacks flap and reached for a fistful of berries. Grabbing what felt like the yellow ones, small and squishy. Pulling his hand out, he threw the berries into his mouth, biting down and swallowing a moment after. The sweetness of the berries caused him to gag but he didn’t regret it, his heart rate returning to normal as the pounding in his chest was contained. The fear leaving him as the berries worked their magic.
As the leg separated, he lifted it to his face in morbid curiosity. The point of separation was marred as strings of stretched and ripped flesh hung loosely from the tip. The rock he had used wasn't particularly sharp, so all he could do was try his best to scrape.
Humming with a frown, his mouth watered at the thought of cooking the appendage.
Setting the limb next to the stone he passed the stone pit, stepping outside of the cave and towards the trees. Reaching up to rip a branch off, holding both ends he snapped the branch in two. He proceeded to do this until he had a considerable pile of sticks and leaves.
Walking back to the cave, he set the leaves and branches down into the stone circle.
Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a fistful of the black berries. They were not unlike cherries, a seed surrounded by fruity flesh. The exception being that the flesh was tough, chewy and hard to break apart. They were something you spat out in the end. Their effect on him? The juices cause him get higher than the sky. But there was something that concerned Charles, the juices were extremely flammable. Almost explosively so. Swishing it in his mouth was no problem, but the moment he'd swallow his world would melt away. This world made no sense to Charles, but he had to make due with what he had. And what he had was flammable fruit.
Popping them into his mouth, Charles chewed, trying to avoid swallowing the addictingly sweet juices. Spitting out the contents of his mouth into the fire pit, he reached back into his pack. Charles had sewn a small pocket on the inside of the bag before he came to this world.
The one item it contained? His trusty lighter, helping him out of jams more times than he could count.
Flipping the scratched lighter open, he flicked his thumb down, dragging the flint wheel with it. The spark lighting a fire instantly, the small orange flame flickered in the soft breeze.
Carefully squatting down, he picked up a juice covered branch. Holding the wood away from him he reached out with the lighter in his hand and brought it up to the branch. The tip of the branch burst into flames. Followed by the rest of the branch as the flames dragged themselves towards him. Stopping where the juices ended.
Tossing the the branch into the fire pit, he watched as the fire roared to life, heat grazing the front of his body, a large contrast to the cool breeze that was wafting in from the forest, the crushed berries that he had chewed popped in the pit like firecrackers on the fourth of July. Waiting until the fire settled, he moved to pick up the yellow limb. Placing it on top of the stone circle, inches away from the flame. Watching the yellow hairs burn to give way to pale skin.
The eyes of the horse still staring at him from the corner of his vision.
Once he began eating, he couldn’t stop. Devouring limb after limb with gusto, it was amazing. The flood of juices made his mouth water even further, causing him to double his efforts in eating the horse meat. All the way until his teeth began to scrape bone.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he moaned with a mouthful of food, going back to chew the meat with a renewed fervor.
The feeling of guilt and shame he had before was gone now, squashed down by the desire for sustenance. But there was one feeling he couldn’t shake, it was the hole that those dead eyes bore into the back of his head as he ate.
