Ever free in Everfree

Chip got filled in on what hard cider and a hangover were as soon as he could make the first hazy steps out of bed, which was right around midnight. Silver Heart was disappointed she had to go to sleep before the changeling was able to communicate properly – she showered the guest with attention, prancing, questions and her artwork, depicting a black colt and what presumably was a princess in distress, in different stages of being rescued. Chip later learned that was supposed to be Nigh Star.

“Well, this certainly was something… New,” said Chip, rubbing his temples slowly.

“Again, I’m mighty sorry, Chip. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”

The changeling smiled; does it really work that way? Does surviving a new experience make him stronger? He would need to come back to his home someday and check that theory in practice.

“Indeed. Although I don’t feel particularly strong right now.”

“Well then, how about you take a rest, huh? It’s really late anyway and some real sleep for a change will do you some good,” offered Night, smiling sincerely.

“I appreciate your offer,” replied Chip, reveling in the positive emotions cast at him, “but I should move on. I have stayed in one place long enough. And if the guards are aware of my kind just outside Equestrian borders, I do not wish to endanger you.”

“I haven’t told anypony about the changelings yet,” confessed Autumn with a sigh. “It didn’t seem right, with you in bed the whole day and all.”

“I appreciate the gesture. Thank you. I will remember your kindness and pray for good fortune to visit this home as often and possible,” recited the changeling. He thought the lines from a feudal fantasy book were adequate to this situation.

“Umm… Thank you I guess. So you’ll be leaving now?” Autumn raised a brow. “At this late hour? You have any idea what lurks in the Everfree at this time?”

“Everfree? The Everfree Forest? I think I read about it. Mythical creatures, unusual weather, a mysterious place where nopony goes unless necessary.” Chip was quite proud of the knowledge he had. Reading books couldn’t have paid off better.

“More or less, yes,” said the guardspony, nodding, “and the forest is just a leap away. No way are you going out there. Wait until morning, we’ll get up early and  I’ll take you to the forest entrance.”

* * *

Night Star was right – a good night’s sleep on a comfortable bed was a good thing. He never felt so rested in his entire life of sleeping on rocks, grass, green goo or other changelings. Beds were another thing added to a growing list of things for which ponies should be loved, not hated. Chip could bet that a good bed would totally change Chrysalis’s attitude towards ponies in general. Or at least nudge it in the right direction.

The changeling refused to take any rations or tools – he had his magic to work with and could eat just about anything; it was all tasteless anyway, so there was no use wasting fancy food that could benefit the family.

The little filly was a different problem overall – she woke up to the sound of Autumn and Chip shuffling about in the morning and insisted to come along. She was barely standing on her hooves, her little head still half-way into dream land. A threat of tears was made when Autumn refused, so the whole leave had to be delayed so that the small filly could say her good-bye to the strange pony that was not a princess.

Chip once again glanced at the drawing he received. It had two characters, a large black colt and a small gray pony. The captions beneath  read “Chip” and “S.H.”, followed by a small heart and a small “Good luck!” cramped into the lower right corner.  The filly confessed she had been drawing that instead of sleeping last night, which almost caused an argument between her and her father. The situation was diffused by the changeling himself, offering his thanks and hugging the little pony, convincing her to get back to sleep and listen to her parents, because they are the best parents ever. How could a pony not trust such a nice and big colt with funny holed hooves?

“This is it.” Autumn Leaf stopped right before the wall of dark green trees started. Between then lay a path, sinking into the dark depths of the Everfree forest. “ You be careful now, you hear? And please don’t be causing trouble – I’d hate to see you on the wanted list on any dashboard I come across. Deal?”

“Deal,” replied Chip, clapping his hoof against Autumn’s.

Immediately, Chip took on the guise of an azure pony with a black, short mane. Without hesitation, he galloped into the forest, the thrill of adventure and hope of something interesting happening sending ripples down his back.

Autumn Leaf looked back one last time before making his way to his barracks for his shift. It would be a hard day, as he would have to convince his colleagues that there are creatures like Chip lurking in the north. Also, he would have to endure the suggestive glances and whistles thrown his way, courtesy of Chip’s brilliant idea for a cover up…

* * *

It was hard to tell which hour it was – not much light managed to pierce through the thick leaves and branches of the ancient Everfree trees. Chip was bored – he ran at a steady pace for some time and nothing was happening. No timber wolves, no spooky voices or trees grabbing out for him.

Dead silence haunted the colt; was it possible he was feared? Chip never thought about the implications of his presence in the local flora and fauna. His kind were natural predators, probably unmatched by typical creatures he read about. The animals described in his books had only limited magical capabilities, if any at all. It would be fun to down a monster or two for the sheer fun of it, but no one was there to challenge him.

A growling from below made Chip jump back, landing in a prone position, eyes and ears darting in all directions. The hideous sound could be anything – a manticore,  hydra, maybe cockatrice?  There it was again! Was something attached to his stomach? Oh…

The colt looked at the foliage around him. He was so worked up over his journey he totally ignored the sucking sensation in his gut. He didn’t eat much for the past few days – it was doubtful  he would feed on emotions ever again (at least, not voluntarily) and it didn’t make much difference what he threw in his stomach, as long as it looked interesting.  Grass was too cliché to snack on, the moss looked  too squishy and… Hello? What do we have here? A nicely looking blue plant? And it smelled nice too. Why not try that for a change?