Chapters The date, July 17 1944. Location, some bombed out village in France. Condition, fighting fit and healthy.
"...So I just picked off the blighter, only a slither of his helmet presented itself to me, best shot from me so far; Lance Corporal"
"Hmm, quite, I agree it was a good shot, but we are friends, don’t keep calling me Lance Corporal"
Two men, around the age of 22-23, were sitting down on a small stone farm wall. They were both clad in slightly worn khaki uniforms, full British army battledress. Over their shoulders slung Lee Enfield rifles, the barrels glinting in the sun. Over their fronts were slung two large pouches, each carrying multiple rounds of ammunition and various other objects. The man on the right, had a somewhat wizened look to himself. Large bags under his eyes, red and raw skin, uneven stubble. The rawness centred around the Brodie helmet’s strap;The helmet itself was large, dark green and dish shaped; the metal glinting in the late afternoon sun. The chap opposite him, despite being roughly the same age, looked much less aged. True, his skin was red and raw from not only the helmet strap, but the sun as well reddening his skin. He lacked the scrapes and bags that had accumulated on his colleague.
‘Bert’ the man on the left spoke, he had middle class British accent that was fairly soft spoken. "I keep forgetting, how long had you said you had been fighting Jerry for?"
Letting out a somewhat exasperated sigh, Bert turned to face his companion. "I keep telling you old chap" His accent was very similar to his friends, but had much deeper undertone to it. "I have been in this blasted war for around 5 years against those Nazi cads. However, now with the Yankee’s helping to push on our side and the Soviet’s crushing the Axis forces in Poland, I’d say this was is almost over Clive. We’ll make Mr Hitler go tooda-loo and then be back home before you know it, then we can all have a jolly good time."
Clive looked at him with hope in his eyes. "You really think so?"
"Oh yes, my fellow chap." With that he glanced out over to the ever dropping sun. They were situated upon a small hill, providing excellent views across the French Bocage. As depressing as part of this view was, with the bombed out houses, the wrecked half-tracks and the dead bodies lying here and there, there was still an air of calm, of peace. No artillery guns were firing, no rumble of tank tracks, no sporadic bursts of machine gun fire. Nothing, except the quite chattering of the rest of his patrol. This is why he liked the war a little, the have there moments of peace and serenity in a foreign land. Bert had had these moments every so often in his long time spent moving back and forth through the North African desert. Moving from Egypt to Libya and Tunisia and back again frequently had been both exciting and heartbreaking at times. He had lost many friends fighting there. So many experienced men who Bert was sure they would make it out alive. But they always succumbed to the most unfair-est of deaths. His buddy, Corporal Thomas George, he was making cover fire for the patrol as they retreated to more favourable positions. He was however, struck by a high explosive round from a Panzer IV. His body was almost ripped in half by the round as it passed through him and exploded on the rock behind where he was lying. He was killed almost instantly. Or how about when he was fighting in the Battle of Tobruk, Private Ben Laurence, the patrol Bren gunner, was holding down a street from the approaching Italian forces, when he was cut down by an enemy sniper, the round penetrating his chest, causing him to collapse to the floor, bleeding heavily. Bert had stayed by his side, trying to help, trying to apply pressure to the wound, trying to keep him alive as he shouted for a medic until his throat grew raw. But, by the time he had arrived, Ben was dead.
Bert had always thought as this as unfair. How had he, a boy of 18 who had forged his papers to join the British army, who had been thrown into combat with many older fighter, had survived. Yet now he was the veteran. He was one of the most combat experienced fighting in his whole patrol, an almost master with anything he could melee with, be it his entrenching tool, his bayonet, his fists, even the butt of his rifle if need be. Yet his true love lay in his Lee Enfield itself. Highly accurate and the main staple of the British army, he cherished this tool of war that had seen him through so much fighting and had kept him alive. He just wanted to get through this conflict alive and in once piece. To go home to his sub-urban house and to just see his family again. It was his father who had encouraged him to fight for his country, being as he had fought in the First World War, despite Bert himself being just slightly under age to join.
Now here he was, in France, the place where the Fascist Reich still had some influence over apart from its own country. "Erm... Lance... I mean Bert, you seem to be staring out into nothing, is something the matter?" Clive mused in Bert’s direction, noticing he was just blankly staring out into the sunset."I know it’s very nice and calming, but you seem to be spacing out a little."
"I was?" Bert appearing to have snapped out of it all of a sudden. "I'm sorry old chap. I was just thinking about how this conflict had changed so much, how many fellows have come and gone and god how much I miss my family."
"Well I'm very sorry the hear about that Lance-Corporal, but your going to have to get up. It’s getting dark and we need a sentry to stand guard near the tree line behind you." A gruff voice piped up behind Bert. He was a rather burly man, around 29 years with the same slightly aged look upon his face. On his arm was 3 v’s, all pointing downward. "We may have defeated those Nazi buggers here, but you can never be too cautious. We need this harbour area defended whilst we sleep"
Pulling himself of the greyed stone wall he turned around to face his superior."Yes Sergeant Everald, I will head out there now."
"Good man, Lance-Corporal Atkins. See too it that you bring your supper or what have you when you go, to help keep you awake." Looking a little guilty, he swiftly added "I'm sorry Lance-Corporal, but all the other boys have been on sentry duty and it’s your turn, nothing I can do I'm afraid."
"That’s fine with me Sarge. I need to do my part just as much as the rest of the squad, just give me a few moments before I head out. I’ll see you in the morning Sergeant." Bert said back to him with a fairly jolly tone in his voice. At this, the Sergeant just turned on his heels and walked toward a small cluster of khaki brown canvas tents, with a group of battle weary soldiers milling around in various locations around it. It had been a long day liberating the town, or what was left of it, from the firmly dug in Germans.
At this, Bert quickly slung the rest of his kit onto his back and climbed over the wall. Looking back at Clive, Bert put his hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Now Clive, you take care you yourself old chap. Grab some biscuits or what have you before you go and have your kip, you never know when one may need the energy. I will be back in the morning, that’s if I haven’t fallen asleep and had my throat cut by a Nazi in my sleep."
"I'm sure you will be fine, I mean, you've been through this much, I'm sure you’ll be fine old chap, you always pull through in the end." At this, Bert turned on his heels and headed toward the dense tree line ahead of him, a look of determination plastered on his gnarled mug.
The sun had almost set and it was very gloomy. Large black shadows were being cast by the light blotting foliage. Perfect hiding spot for enemy troops. Rifle in hand, Bert slowly trudged closer towards the gloom with loomed ahead of him. When he was on sentry duty in North Africa, he didn't have to worry about this, considering how open the desert can be, giving you a large field of view. You could see an enemy’s movement if you knew what you were looking for; a darkened figure in the shadowy outlines of the sand dunes, easy to pick off if need be. Here though, with those dense trees and inky blackness, enemy troops could be hiding behind the nearest tree or bush. He almost had a feeling that someone was watching him, surveying him, as a man with a microscope might scrutinize micro-organisms that swarm and multiply in a drop of water.
Treading out of the ankle high grass and onto fallen decaying foliage, he took a few more steps towards the great unknown, then not so graciously squatted down between the sprawling base of an oak tree until he was sitting on the uneven ground. It was perfect for sentry duty, not too comfy, so he wouldn't nod off, yet not too hard, so he wouldn't shift around too much and make lots of noise. Shrugging off his pack, he drew out a full packet of multicoloured boiled sweets. He had been saving these just for an occasion like this and gently opened the packet, trying not to make so much noise. In the failing light he could barely tell the colours apart from one another, but this didn't mind him, not one bit. Popping what looked like a red one into his mouth (very weak and not very sugary strawberry flavour) he again turned to face the forest of ebony blackness that loomed in front of him. By now the sun had dipped over the top of the hill the forest was situated on and gloomy blackness filled everywhere.
"It’s good that I’m on edge, those blighter’s can’t surprise me." He mumbled in a whisper to himself. "No bloody Jerry soldiers can sneak up on this top dog." And at that he just gazed off in the direction of the forest.
About an hour and a half must have passed since he had sat in that position by the tree. Bert had just ran out of his boiled sweets and wished that he hadn’t ate them so fast, almost out of habit as he felt the nerves getting to him a little. All though he had been in this conflict for so long, he still was fearful, though that wasn’t a bad thing to have, not at all, especially as he was facing a somewhat creeping fear. Every so often he would hear a rustling of leaves, bringing his full attention to that area. He had frequently checked the area, though there was no one there, just the wind whipping through the tree and ground. Yet he also had this nagging feeling that there was something going and no one would tell him what. But one thing he noted was the fact that the winds in this area were growing stronger and appeared more frequently. This struck Bert as odd, as he could see barely any clouds in the sky, so it surely wasn’t a storm. Yet this still persisted, every so often a strong gust would blow through the trees making a louder sound every time this happened.
Gripping his rifle firmly in his hands, he decided to move towards where the wind was blowing the strongest. He had no idea why, this whole thing filled him with dread as he drew further into the blackened woods. One thing came immediately apparent to him, the bushes here were incredibly thick, almost like a jungle. Fixing his bayonet to the end of his rifle, he began is take careful, yet strong strikes at the dense flora. Slowly a path was made through as it effortlessly sliced its way through. Pulling his was through, he noticed something which he hadn't seen before when the winds were blowing. A dull blue light emanated from within the forest, snaking its way through the trees and plants with ease. The wind was beginning to grow to a howling gale
As it drew ever closer, he stopped and raised his rifle to his shoulder. "Hände hoch!" He shouted in desperation, trying for whatever it was to hear him over the deafening roar of the wind. What ever it was, it was not stopping for some command. On a frightened impulse of whatever the hell this thing was, he pulled the trigger. There was a loud crash as the shot echoed through the woods. Through his sights he could see it had done nothing, so he quickly slid open the bolt, letting a slightly steaming shell spring out of the side; After which he closed it up and fired again. Nothing. Whatever that thing was (which was now screaming toward him at a frightening pace) was not going to be stopped by rifle fire (or words for that matter). Turning around to run away, Bert instantly regretted doing that, as it struck him in the square of his back. At this his vision when blurry, all he could see was dull blue swiftly enveloping his vision. Then black as he crumpled up and fell over.
When he finally woke up after what seemed like a brief period of time, he groggily got to his feet. Clutching at his stomach, he gagged and stumbled around, trying to get his bearings. Rifle still in hand he gazed around to see where that blue thing had came from. At the moment, he could barely see anything, as his vision was almost completely blurry and distorted. However, what Bert immediately noticed was that his surroundings looked nothing like they had when he had been his. "What in the name of... God was that?" he mused to himself. "Some Nazi super weapon? Well, whatever that was I don’t quite seem to be in the... same location as before."
After waiting for his vision to return to him and for his stomach to settle down he decided to head back the way he came, the did an about turn on the spot and walked through more unfamiliar territory. The plants here seemed to be much wilder then before, no clearings, no area which hadn’t been touched, just spiked vine like plants which snaked their way up the darkened trees, seeming to be darker colour then what he had observed. The ground here was much more damp then the part of the forest he had been, if it even was the same forest that is. Slashing through more bushes and vines which obstructed his way, he quickly concluded that he was lost. Gripping his rifle closer to his body he became more aware of the senses around him as he brain began to function properly. Deep cawing like a crow or a raven could be heard as he trudged slowly through the thick brambly mess in front of him. This reminded him to the stories his father used to tell him as a kid before he went to sleep; About an adventurer who always seemed to have to trek through dark foreboding woodland passes, looking for a temple or whatever. As a kid, these tales thrilled him, the parts he told always seemed to be a crescendo of adventure and suspense, always leaving him on a cliff hanger before having to go to sleep. Oh how ironic it felt for Bert as he nervously moved through one piece of plant matter to the neck, not quite feeling the sense of excitement he had had as a child. Maybe it was the fact that he could quite literately be anywhere at this point, with a sniper maybe hiding in a tree or under a camouflage net, waiting for some unlucky sod to stumble into his line of sight.
His heightened senses however were being tested. He swore he could smell a foul odour in the air, but dismissed it as his own imagination. However it still lingered in the air as he proceeded to make progress through the vegetation ahead of him. With some more swings of his bayonet, he pushed aside a bush to reveal what looked like a pathway of some sorts. Bert though that a wave of relief should wash over him, but noting happened. Sweating more then he did before, he proceeded left from where he had exited the bushed. The smell was back from before, only this time it was stronger and had a much more pungent fragrance to it. A snarl could be heard from the bushes to his right. His heart almost jumped into his mouth. Whipping around he pointed the muzzle of his weapon towards his potential adversary's. Through the thick bushes he was bright green eyes, looking straight at him. Cautiously, Bert began to tread backwards slowly, to try and get some distance on whatever those thing could be.
All of a sudden they burst out of their hiding spot. What shocked Bert the most was the fact they seemed to be composed entirely out of nothing but wood and sticks. They were around half his size, if not a little taller, being as he was around 6 foot 10. He could see that this wasn’t a fight he could he run away from. Despite his fitness, he knew how fast dogs could run when they wanted too, even if they were composed of sentient wood’ The three gazed at him with menace. Their eyes gleaming with ferocity as they glared right toward him. The largest one let out a sharp howl, to which the others followed suit.
"Nice doggies, come to uncle Bert, come to me to die," Bert growled at them, mirroring their ferocity with his own. Jabbing in their direction with his rifle, which caused them to flinch. "Come get some, you jammy bastards."
At that notion, the closest wolf made a lunging snap at him with its sharp teeth, to which he dodged in the nick of time. Twisting his rifle around, he slammed the butt of the weapon into its head as it began to rear around for a second try. On impact, the force was somewhat jarring, as it impacted with a lot of strength, then continued through the head. After this happened, the entire body seemed to crumple up and collapse to the ground and after a few seconds, you could not even tell it had been alive at all. Rearing back around, Bert looked back at the two other wolves, which looked a tad cowed as they looked back at him. They continued to snap a growl at him, until they began to back off, sensing a losing fight. Bert turned his rifle the right way around, aiming back at them. Pulling the trigger, he let off an eruption of noise. This seemed to frighten them severely, as they turned on they paws, one of them whimpering as they disappeared off into the forest, the bullet apparently smashing into one of their legs, as the recipient hobbled off slowly.
Turning back down the path, he continued to cautiously move along the dirt path, making worried glances behind himself has he continued his trek. Eventually, he reached a clearing, which from the size of it must have been the edge of the forest. Taking several paces down the path, he stopped making sure he was a fair distance from the forest, then let out a deep sigh. "What the hell was that?"
Author's Note
After reading way too much 'human in Equestria' based fan fiction, I decided to have a go at writing my own, with a slight twist. (If you didn't get it, the monsters were Timber Wolves(Although I am sure all of you figured that out).
A little cottage by the wood
The date, July 18 1944. Location, some woods in god knows where. Condition, weary with light scrapes.
Catching his breath in the middle of a dirt pathway, Bert panted and wiped the beads of sweat which had been accumulating on his warm forehead off. After a couple of minutes of this, he finally composed himself and took a better look of his surroundings. The first thing which caught him off guard was the night sky above. Mouth slightly handing open he gazed up at this strange new heaven. Oppose to being pitch black with some faint glints in it, it was more of a deep purple. The stars looked bright and gleaming in the darkened void above, with large dark swirling clouds dotted around. The thing which struck him the most was the moon itself. It looked to be around 3 times the size of the moon which he had frequently seen on many a night operation or guard out posting. Come to think of it, the entire skyline was different to where he was camping the night before. Large mountains rose high up into the sky, illuminated slightly by the light beaming from the white lunar disk in the sky. Bert could have sworn that there was some sort of settlement in the side of the rock face. On closer scrutiny, he saw that it was in face what appeared to be a castle; its immense towers and turrets stretched high above the walls below. He could just make out the large golden tops they had, which complimented the dark swirls on them. It gave off a faint glow, probably from the street lights below in the keep.
After doing this, Bert decided to check his kit to make sure everything was in order. Removing his pack, he unfastened it and proceeded to rifled through to discover all his kit was still present, if not slightly jostled around from where he had put them. With a satisfied look on his face, he closed it up again and inspected his rifle. Opening the bolt with ease, a shell casing popped out, evidently he had forgotten to do so in his panic with the wolves. Reaching into one of his front pouches, he drew out 3 rounds, then slotted them in one by one, with as much ease as a gambler does on a fruit machine. With a sharp wrist and hand movement, he snapped the bolt shut with a satisfying click as he pushed it down. Swinging the rifle over his shoulder, something was evidently clear, he was not anywhere near where he had been a few hours ago. Realising he needed to get his bearings straightened, he proceeded down the path away from the forest. Moving further on, he noticed a sign to his right. Stopping to look at it, it read in large friendly letters- ‘Welcome to Ponyville, hope you enjoy your stay!’
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Bert almost cried out in frustration. What was a sign in English doing when he had quite clearly been in some random French village not 4 hours ago. The name of the village also struck him weird. Ponyville? Did this mean the land had and abundance of small horse and they had named it as such? Scratching his short brown hair under his helmet, he pressed on down the pathway, reaching a small rise, which up until this point had been obscuring what lay ahead of him out of the tangling tree line. Cresting the ridge, he looked around once more. Before him, lay the town referred to by the sign as 'Ponyville'. Although he was on the outskirts of the place, it was apparent that it was quite a traditional place. Fairly large cottage like houses with thatched roofs and stone walls lined the pathway up ahead, all looking uniform with each other apart from one or two exceptions. The first question that popped into his head was ‘why are all the building so, untouched?' They appeared to unscathed and very structural secure, despite their had been a war going on for the past 5 year, with huge numbers of French town’s and villages being occupied or destroyed by the conquering Wehrmacht forces. In the distance, he though he could make out the silhouette of towering monolithic building, but could barely make it out, though it looked like it had a somewhat jagged and crystalline look to it.
Glancing to his right, Bert spotted what looked like a small secluded cottage on the edge of the dreaded woods that he had just emerged from. "Might as well live out the night in there, lest to not be discovered by these towns folk." he muttered to himself has he set off at a brisk walk. As he approached the quaint looking house, he noticed that it looked rather un-orthodox in design. It looked like it had a tree growing out of the top, as indeed the roof looked like it was made out of tree branches or leaves. At random intervals and sections, various designs of bird boxes seemed to jut out of the tree like area, heck, even they were dotted around the rising sandstone chimney which jutted out of the right side. There appeared to be a small bridge, rising over a small pond area, which in turn was being fed by a thin, fast flowing stream. Following the pattern of the house, all the trees around it, no matter size or shape, seemed to be adorning more bird houses and small animal sized holes. Whoever lived here sure did like there animals a lot. Treading up to the door, he could see that it was like a stable door, with the red wood splitting into two different sections. Putting out a hand, he pushed the door gently to see if it was locked. Surprisingly, with a little more force, it opened with little resistance. Slinging his rifle off, his entered the cottage.
Inside it was rather quaint looking, even in the darkness. It carried the same animal friendly vibe to it inside, with yet more bird houses that hung from the walls or ceiling. Bags of various animal feed were propped up against walls and furniture that lay about the room. Taking a step forward, he could hear a loud creak of the light green floor boards as he pressed further into the little abode. In the corner he observed what looked like a small green sofa, tucked slightly out of sight behind a small book shelf, which contained various books, all with colourful pictures on their covers.
Clearing his throat with a small cough he glanced up the stairway. From how this house look and felt to him, he knew someone was living here. Animal obsessed or not, he still needed to locate to owner the place. "Beg my pardon, is someone here by any chance?" Bert called up the stairs, with his hands cupping around his mouth to amplify his voice without the need for shouting. Receiving no response in return, he decided to press on up the stairs. Before his head was hidden under the top of the ceiling, he quickly surveyed with once more, his Lee Enfield following his line of sight as he scanned the room methodically. Concluding no living being was downstairs, he ascended the steps upwards. Arriving on a landing (which very much reminded him of his house back home), he again surveyed the room. Having seen nothing much of interest, he looked at a small table. On it were some photos in wooden frames. The thing that looked odd was the fact none of them were humans. They appeared to be what looked like small, pastel coloured horses. In the closest one, he noticed four of these things. One was rather tall and lanky, with a green/blue coat and a blond mane. Below his face was a dark grey stubble, which was bizarre as horse’s don’t get stubble anywhere. Standing next to it was a much smaller looking one, with a yellow coat a bright pink hair. The pony in question appeared to have a somewhat shy look to her. What he completely missed from his first glance was that they all had wings. God this was confusing. Looking back to the photo, he noticed the other too, were both similar colours too the other too, however they had a much more aged look on their faces and both possessed different coloured manes, one having red, whilst the other white.
In the silence, Bert glanced towards the door and noticed a faint breathing he hadn't heard from down stairs. Who ever it was, didn't sound of even give Bert of any indication of being intimidating, given the painting of some butterfly’s he had spied downstairs.
Using the end of his bayonet, he gradually open the door, creaking as it did so. Placing the butt of his rifle in his shoulder he pressed on in. The sight that greeted him was shocking to say the least. Casually sleeping away under the covers, was the same yellow and pink horse he had seen in the photograph. Placing his left hand over his eyes as rubbing them, he could still see whatever that thing was. Just then, the creature appeared to be moving and shifting around. "Angel, whatever is the matter? You never come up to see me in the night? Is something wrong?" the horse...thing mumbled in a very quiet and gentle tone. With her eyes still closed, she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. Slowly opening her eyes, she turned his way so she glanced in the direction of the door, then let out a high pitched scream.
Leaping out of bed, she bolted into the corner of the room. With a shaking hoof she reached up and turned on the nearby lamp. Dull yellow light filled the small room, though it cast enough light onto Bert for the creature to get a good look at him. Seeing that he had some sort of sharp object, it covered its face with its forelegs, evidently shaken severely by the thing that had just entered the bedroom. In between high pitch squeaks and mumbles, eventually it managed to squeeze out some words in its almost pathetic voice. "Please, don’t, hurt me..." To which she began to cry, repeating the words over and over again, like a damaged record.
Staring at this bizarre creature, he concluded that it was no threat to him, watching it cowering in the corner of the room. Lowering his rifle, Bert knelt down on the floor. Placing his weapon to the right side of him, he took a deep breath. "Please don’t cry, I don’t want to hurt you." Bert spoke in a very calm and quiet voice. At hearing this, the horse removed one of its forelegs from its face. Looking up at him, Bert gave it a friendly smile. He had this very inviting and friendly look on his face, one which said that ‘I won’t harm you.’ The two of them continued to look at each other for a few minutes. Moving very carefully, he reached into his pack and drew out a half eaten packet of biscuits. God how he disliked these things, yet they still provided a good amount of energy despite this. Pulling out two, he placed one in his mouth and in the other hand he held out the crumbly oat biscuit.
The winged creature took one look at the offer, then slowly edged forward towards his outstretched palm. Still whimpering quietly, she took the snack from his hands, then proceeded to take a dainty bite out of it. Again the two sat in almost silence, looking across at each other. Removing his Brodie helmet, he placed it on his chest, in a somewhat respectful manner. "Forgive me, I didn't realise someone was up here when I ascended the stairs. Please would you tell me your name?" Lowering its other fore leg, it looked back at him, though part of her face was still obscured by its long mane.
"I...I...I’m Fluttershy." she said in an incredibly softly spoken voice.
"Fluttershy hmm, that is certainly a very nice name." He responded in an equally soft tone, then under his breath added "certainly suits your personality." This response appeared to set the brightly coloured mare at ease. She shifted her body into a more upright position, no longer breathing heavily as she did before.
"W...why thank y..you, s...s...sir." She said back in the same calm tone, although it was a little louder then before. ‘W...what’s your name?’
"Bert Atkins at your service, proud soldier of the British 3rd infantry division and now one of the most confused members in its ranks." He rolled off like he was making a speech, with a little hesitation at the end however.
"Confused? H...how so Bert?" She said back to him in a slightly confused manner.
"Well Mrs Fluttershy, I would be damned if anyone back home had seen any quite like you."
"W...what do you mean?"
"Well, to put it rather bluntly, you are a small, pink and yellow pony who can speak English and lives in a small house." Bert said rather matter-of-factly as he continued to sit opposite her.
Placing her hooves on her hips, she tried to looked rather annoyed at him, but instead looked rather cute as she pouted her lips slightly. "Well, I don’t think any of my friends would believe me when I said a clothed, hairless ape walked into my bedroom in the middle of the night and started to talk to me and offer me food."
Looking quite shocked at her little outburst, he quickly regained his composure. "Fair point you made Miss. I would also like to ask you another question. Where in the name of His Majesty the King am I? What country, where?"
Now it was Fluttershy’s turn to be shocked. "Whatever do you mean? How could you not know where you are?" Looking at him almost directly in the eye, she could see a slightly sheepish look come to his mouth as smiled helplessly at her. "Well, you are in Ponyville, or rather the outskirts. The country you are in is Equestria."
Bert just stared at the floorboards, unable to say a word. His mind was doing flips, he had no idea what to say to this. Fluttershy, had began to stand up and trotted over to Bert. Despite her moving he didn’t say a word. Nor did he more or even make any sort of sound. He just sat there with his jaw hanging open, looking dumbfounded. His mouth was moving like he wanted to say something, yet no sound came from the gaping abyss of his gob. She was now standing side by side with him, a concerned look on her tear soaked face. Wiping the rest of it away, she placed a hoof on his shoulder in a motherly fashion. "Was it something I said?" she verbalised her concerns as she looked into his shell shocked face.
"I just, I just, just don’t know." He breathed out, to which he promptly collapsed on the floor.
Fluttershy continued to look at him in her uneasy manner, mulling over what had just happened. She concluded he had just been through a lot of stress and decided to do the only thing that she could do. Trotting over to a large birch wood cupboard, she pulled out a large padded blanket, baby blue in colour. Returning to him, Fluttershy cast the sheet over his fainted body. She then proceeded to sit by him, and hoped for the best as she again placed a comforting hoof on his body, and settled down for a long night.
Author's Note
I initially planned for Bert to go to the Castle of Friendship first, but I thought it would seem a little silly going all the way from the Everfree to there.
Not the best morning ever
The date, July 18 1944. Location, small cottage belonging to a yellow horse. Condition, minor scrapes and bruising.
The Sun had risen once again over the beautiful nation of Equestria. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight, the temperature was warm, but not unbearable. Streaming through a small window, a long ray of light was cast over the wooden floor, leading up to a pair of figures lying asleep. One of them was a small pegasus mare, the other a human, dressed in full uniform sleeping under a blanket. The mare slowly pulled open her eyes, groggily looking into the low celestial body that was unceremoniously glaring into her iris’s, causing her to squint as she began to stretch out. Pulling herself to a standing position, she looked down upon the strange creature that had graced her in the night. He was continuing to sleep despite his companion, who had risen off the ground. Placing her hoof to her head, she began to think about what to do next. After a few moments of blankly gazing at the wall, she had came to the conclusion that she had not the foggiest idea in what to do. It was obviously sentient and had a fairly high intelligence, so she could not just keep it here with the other animals. However, what would happen if the went to somepony else, he would be stared at and may even provoke panic in the townsfolk. Letting out an exasperated gasp, she decided the best thing to do was to talk to it over breakfast and see what was what. It was clear, despite that nasty looking knife on that metallic stick, he meant her no harm, otherwise why would he have acted so friendly and calm to her, even going so far as offering he some food from his pack.
Her head glanced down suddenly, the creature was making small moaning and grunting noises as his body began to shift and move around. Flinching a little, Fluttershy stood back and watched him twist and turn, stretching out his limbs as he did so. Like Fluttershy before, Bert almost painfully opened his eyes, which he rubbed with his hands. "Good Morning, erm... Bert was it? Have a nice sleep?" Fluttershy asked him gently.
"Oh yes. Best sleep I have had in years, and that isn’t an understatement." He responded in a sleepy voice, yawning as he had fully come to his senses.
Fluttershy furrowed her brow at the statement."Oh, That’s wonderful to hear. Would you like something to eat? I have bread and oats downstairs if any of that interests you." Fluttershy offered rather kindly to the now fully propped up ape creature.
"Yes, toast sounds rather smashing. Would you like me to come and assist you?"
"Oh no no, I’ll be fine." Fluttershy calmly responded.
"Well in that case, I’ll be down in a few minutes."
"OK, see you at the table." And with that she left the room and trotted down the stairs. Pushing himself off the ground with barely any grace, he grabbed his helmet and rifle, then looked through the rooms next door, searching for the bathroom.
After a few minutes had passed, Fluttershy could hear the sound of heavy boots on the stairs as Bert slowly descended the steps to the bottom. Having reached the landing, he turned groggily towards the small room opposite the living room he had observed the night before. Placing his somewhat gnarled hand upon the chair, he pulled it back and plunked himself down. He un-slung his rifle and lent it against the table, no more then an arms length away. On the table itself, he carefully placed the dark green piece of metal so that it was as far way from Fluttershy as it could be. Looking over to Fluttershy, he saw she was walking towards the table with two plates; one of them was held in her teeth, the other in one of her front hoofs. Placing one down in front of Bert (Thankfully for him not the one in her mouth) and placing the other in front of herself, before pulling out the wooden chair herself and sitting (rather more graciously) down.
Taking some bites each out of their toast, they sat there in silence, just watching the other across the table. Then Fluttershy finally built up enough courage and dropped the ball. "What are you going to do now?". Slowly finishing his mouthful, he placed the half eaten piece of toast back down on his plate. After a few moments of thinking, he glanced back over to her.
"Well if you truly say this place if called Equestria and, if I am lead to believe it is populated by small Equines, I have no idea." He spoke in a calm, clear voice to her. "I have no clue where this place is in relation to where I was before. Hell, I could be on another world for all the difference it makes." He looked back down at the table, a somewhat sad look was in his eyes. Some time passed before he spoke again. "What do you think I should do Miss Fluttershy?" Fluttershy placed a hoof on his shoulder, obviously seeing the emotion running through him.
"Well, I have been thinking about that too. When I first though of what to do with you, I had no clue. I had to treat you as if you were somepony else, not just an animal, which I am not quite as used to I’m afraid. However I think that you should come with me too meet a close friend of mine."
"Well, how exactly is seeing a friend going to help me, apologies for the contradiction" Bert said to her in a slightly annoyed tone. He didn’t really want to see some random other horse thing just so he could be studied or screamed at or what not. Fluttershy retracted her hoof from his shoulder.
"Well, she is a very special somepony, in that, well...she is a princess." Obviously noticing the annoyed look he had on his face as she said, she added swiftly "She is very smart, she may be able help you with her magic."
"Of course she has magic, oh this completes the fairy tale quite nicely. All we need is for her to be a damsel in distress in a tower, with some prince looking to come and save her." Bert sarcastically talked back to her. Noticing the now rather peeved expression she had upon her face he decided to add a few more words as he back peddled hard. "Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out like that. Its just, I’m in some land unknown to human kind, with a winged pony telling me about her magical princess for a friend. Back where I came from, the only part of that description we have ever possessed is the princess part. Magic to us humans is just fiction. Stuff of old women's tales. The only magic is trick magic, like card tricks and sleight of hand." Letting out a small sigh, he continued with his toast, eating the rest in a few bites.
Composing herself after what Bert had just said, she spoke in her normal voice again."Right, I’ll just finish eating here and then we should be golden." Fluttershy nodded at him. Quickly eating the rest of her slice, he too rose to her legs. Pushing the chair under again, she sidled up to Bert. Gesturing with her hoof, she walked toward to the door, pushing it open. Stepping outside, she waited for him to emerge. Sauntering into the bright light outside, Bert placed his helmet back on, adjusting the straps slightly; After which the two set off towards town. However at the window, a small rabbit had jumped on to the window sill and was waving his arms frantically at a small bowl. He had an extremely annoyed look on his face. After a small while he gave up, glaring in the direction of his owner and her new accomplice.
After walking down the dirt track for small while, Bert could now really appreciate the surroundings and detail he had missed the night before. Birds were chirping loudly all around, flying very close to the two individuals, though Fluttershy was most likely the reason why they were doing so. Bert was amazed by this. They were all so colourful and unique, very much unlike any of the birds he had back home, composing mostly of pigeons and sparrows with the occasional robin or blue tit. As they grew closer to the main street of Ponyville, he observed that several flower beds were lining the sides of the now gravel track. Bright blooms sprung up from it, catching the eye with unique shapes, sizes and colours as they twisted towards the sun. Now they were actually in Ponyville itself. Things were turning rather pear shaped very rapidly. The first pony they came across was a short mare about the same height as Fluttershy. Her coat was aquamarine in colour and had a blond mane. Hearing someone approaching her, the pegasus pony turned to meet the newcomers. First she spotted Fluttershy and began beam widely, then her eyes met Bert. Her pupils almost shrank to pin pricks as she looked at him. Jumping up into the air, he quickly flapped her wings and flew away. On her face was plastered a look of terror.
Taking no heed of this, the two continued into the centre of Ponyville. Everypony that they came across gave a look of either astonishment or were looked at him aghast with terror. A small pony, who looked to be a foal was just stepping out of a doorway. When his mother emerged she took one look at Bert before grabbing the foal (as well as the door mat), pulling them inside, followed by the door slamming. The friendly chatter that was going around the town began to die down as the two walked ever closer to the castle. Now that he was drawing closer, he could properly distinguish the individual details of the crystalline structure he had seen last night. It rose several stories into the air and was a purple/blue colour. Large green glass windows were strategically lined up along the side of it, in evenly spaced intervals like a group of soldiers on parade. Contrasting this was the balconies, golden in colour which were situated all over the sheer edges. A large spike of crystal jutted out over one of the balconies, on it hung a large magenta flag with a six pointed star in the middle. In fact, the entire top of the structure was overshadowed by large light blue star, which looked dangerously jagged. The first thing that came to Bert’s mind was ‘God how out of place does that look in this town?’
Continuing on their way, Bert could not help noticing a mint coloured unicorn following him. Her mane was a similar colour to her coat, with white streaks running through it. On her side was a picture of a small string instrument, which appeared to be a golden lyre. Taking this as just the townsfolk being curious, he took no heed to it. However after looking over his shoulder, he noticed it was still pursuing him. Her face had the expression of both joy and somewhat of insanity on it as she appeared to be gaining on him. Looking back at Fluttershy, who appeared to be not paying attention, he placed his hand on her side. Reacting to his touch, she looked up at Bert, who had a very concerned look on his face. "Bert? What ever is the matter? I..." She was cut off as she watched in amazement as he was rugby tackled to the ground.
Crashing to the ground , Bert rolled over onto his front, a stunned look on his face as he looked up at the almost maniacal unicorn who looked down at him "A REAL HUMAN! AN HONEST TO CELESTIA REAL HUMAN!". At this point, this unexpected violence had triggered something inside of him. In desperation in light of the situation, he ripped open the top of one of his large pouches. He fumbled in his panic before drawing out a pair of brass knuckle dusters, which he she shakily put on his hands, which were moistened by sweat. The look on the unicorns face had turned from glee, into a fearful one, as she began to back away in terror.
Jumping to his feet, he prepared to lash out at his odd attacker. However as he tried to lunge forward to get at her, a pair of hooves grasped him around his middle and only just managed to restrain him with extreme effort. "Fluttershy! Let me go and let me have at this cad! If its a battle of fisticuffs you want then..."
"STOP!" Bert cringed as he heard the sudden explosion of noise. He stopped leaning forward and faced the pony who had burst out at him. "What in the name of Celestia do you think you are doing!?" Stunned by the outburst of such a timid creature, he just looked at her with his mouth hanging open.
"She just tacked me to the floor! I have every right to defend myself!" He shot back at her in defence. Composing herself, Fluttershy nodded slowly.
"Yes, I do understand that you wanted to defend yourself. But that is no excuse to whip out some metal things and threaten somepony with physical violence." Fluttershy shot at him, although it was with a bit less anger in her voice, more a kind of teacher like lecturing tone. Slipping off his pointed knuckle dusters, he turned again to face the unicorn that had dived on him, giving her an annoyed look. Seeing as Bert didn’t want to hurt her any more, she just smiled a sheepish grin at him, before trotting off in the direction they had just came. Before she disappeared, a excited grin had emerged on her face.
The rest of the journey to the castle was, however, not so peaceful as Bert might have hoped. Apart from the confused or scared looks the pairs received as they moved the once peaceful settlement, the biggest surprise of about to be delivered to Bert as they passed in front of what looked like a huge gingerbread house, although on closer inspection turned out to be painted wood. Standing outside was a chubby pink pony, who was bouncing down the steps with not a care in the world, despite her eyes being firmly shut. Opening them, she looked at Fluttershy, a large beaming smile had grown on her lips (not that it wasn’t large and beaming before). Then she caught sight of Bert. Letting out a large gasp, she bolted at breakneck speed toward the area they were travelling, which appeared to be the market area. Placing her hoof on his arm, she spoke again. "That was Pinkie Pie, another one of my friends. She can be a little over the top sometimes. By the looks of her expression, I’d say you have a surprise coming your way sooner or later."
"Noted." Bert said in a dead panned way, annoyed at how he just took a lecturing from some tiny thing that wasn't even a superior officer.
None of the ponies they had passes by had come up to him, said hi or even waved, apart from that blue/green unicorn, if you could even call being thrust to the ground forcefully and shouted at hello. Passing a flower shop, the ponies running the store goggled at the strange creature, before they all collapsed onto the floor. "The horror! The horror!" The red and pink haired earth pony cried out rather over dramatically, before she passed out like her counterparts. As well as the occasional scream or cry, he became aware of a low rumbling sound. Blushing slightly Fluttershy gave him a strange look.
"Erm... pardon me. I think I may have skimped somewhat on the breakfast course. Do you suppose I could purchase something, like an apple?’" Bert somewhat sheepishly suggested to Fluttershy. Nodding slowly and smiling, she lead Bert towards the group of stalls ahead of them. At the first one they came to, Bert saw it was indeed a apple stall, with a large wooden cart piled high with shining juicy red apples. Behind it stood a muscular mare. She was bright orange in colour and wore a large brown Stetson hat that covered most of her short cut blonde mane. At the ends of her bangs they were done up with a small red ribbon.
Approaching the counter, she began to lift her head to face the new comers. "Oh hello Fluttershy, how are ya doing...." Just noticing the towering figure of Bert. She stood there in silence, just taking in the new comer. Eventually she fixed him with a suspicious look before continuing. "What in the name of Celestia is that? Is it one of ya more unusual animal friends here Fluttershy?" She spoke in a Southern drawl, not unlike the Americans Bert had met before D-day.
"I would prefer it if you would stop referring to me as an 'it', thank you very much." Bert retorted at the insult just thrown at him.
"Woo we, well lookie here, it talks.' The orange mare said back at him in an almost mock tone.
"Well yes, I do as a matter of fact missy. I again ask you to quit talking to me in your somewhat condescending manner if you would please."
"Well, if ya say so. By ta way, ma name's Applejack, how about your's"
"Bert Atkins, at your service." He bitterly responded.
"Well that's a mighty strange name you got there."
"I could say the same for yours Miss Applejack."
"Ah think I'm beginning to like your style." Applejack punctuated this by jabbing his side with her hoof in a friendly manner.
"Well, what is that suppose to mean?" Bert shot back, pushing her hoof away from his side. He was starting to get quite annoyed by this 'Applejack', constantly making remarks or somewhat small insults.
"Well, ah like your attitude. Ah think your sound like a nice sorta guy." She now spoke in a more carefree tone, ignoring the building frustration in Bert. Giving him another nudge, she studied his clothing again. "Besides, I think your helmet makes ya look rather cute."
"Thanks..." Bert glowered at her. This newcomer was not helping him to stay positive, that's for sure. "So listen, I would like to purchase one of your apples, if you please."
Taking an obvious hint to his tone of voice, she gestured to her cart in a irritated manner. "So, wadda ya want? Ah got Golden Delicious's, Braeburn's, Cox's. What do ya have in mind?"
"Erm... If I could make a suggestion, I think you should get a Braeburn. I get one most days." Speaking up after what seemed like ages, Fluttershy decided to make herself be heard.
"Fine, I'll take a Braeburn." Bert acknowledged in now even more annoyed fashion.
"Well that'll be two bits. Hopefully that'll calm your mood. Ah don't want you to get too worked up, otherwise you might hurt somepony.
"Fine, but I need Fluttershy to pay. I have no 'bits' as you call them." he shot back towards her.
"Well, that's mighty generous, but I still wanna see you pay back Fluttershy as soon as you can, seeing as you can't pay and all. Besides, what do you do? I mean shoot, if ya can't pay for a measly apple you mustn't do anything important or worth while. Do you just sit around in ya mother's basement and..."
"SHUT THE HELL UP! WHAT THE FUCK WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT I DO!? YOU'RE JUST SOME SIMPLE FARM HORSE! WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT FIGHTING A WAR, HUH? NO, OF COURSE YOU DON'T! YOU LIVE IN A BLOODY FAIRYTALE LAND WITH FUCKING PRINCESSES AND MAGIC!" Bert was livid. Breathing heavily, he just glared across the counter at the orange mare, who was shocked by the out burst. Instead of backing down, however, she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him close.
"DON'T YA USE THAT SORTA LANGUAGE AROUND ME! I AM NOT A SIMPLE FARM HORSE AND AH WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YA WOULD CALM THE HAY DOWN. I DON'T LIKE TO SEE THAT SORTA' ATTITUDE BEING THROWN AROUND!"
Grabbing her hoof in his left hand , he wrenched it off himself with a massive effort. Balling up his right fist, he aimed at her face, still un-relenting from the situation. Fluttershy was cowering on the floor, shaking like a leaf, not that Bert noticed anyway. "YOUR ARE NOT MY SUPERIOR! DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT TALKING BACK TO ME!" With that said, she turned around and kicked him hard in the chest. Applejack had expected him to fall to the ground from the impact, however he just staggered back, shocked about the sudden attack. He clutched his chest, his eyes shut in what appeared to be extreme pain. Slowly his face turned from shock back to one of anger and hatred. ‘YOU ORANGE GIT! YOUR BLOODY FOR IT NOW, YOU BLOODY YANKEE!’ With his right hand, he sent it in up in an arc, which sent a brutal upper cut under the chin of Applejack. She was lifted off the ground from the blow, causing her to fly backwards. After she impacted the cobbles below, she just lay there, blood oozing from her mouth.
Author's Note
After support from you guys I felt very motivated to make this next part. I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy!