Quiet

by Botched Lobotomy

Rating: teen
Tags: Fluttershy, Slice of Life, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2936

The Everfree forest is not somewhere Fluttershy is particularly keen on visiting again, and definitely not alone. But with an injured animal at stake, she may not have a choice.

An entry for Scribblefest 2017

Fluttershy is not a mare particularly keen on the Everfree forest. It's dark, creepy, and generally a place she'd rather not visit.
But when she hears the cries of an animal in pain, she may have to enter its dark depths.
Alone.

Published 2017-03-08 07:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-03-08 07:00:01 UTC

Into the Woods

Quiet. Deathly, deathly quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl, your flesh shiver. The kind of quiet that only happens in a graveyard at 4 in the morning, when a cold wind stalks the churchyard and even the mice are asleep amongst the bones. In a word: Silence.

Or, at least, that's what it should have been. Tonight was different. Tonight, there was a new sound in the night.

Fluttershy stared out into the black, the deep, dark pit in which naught but the shadows could exist. Grey trees stood proudly, fearless sentinels guarding the gates of Hell.

Whimper.

There it was again. Fluttershy curled her tail tighter around herself, as if, if she shrunk away far enough, she could make the noise stop. She liked it out here, usually. It was...nice. Calm. No sudden noises, no surprises, no ponies. A cup of tea, warm, not hot, a simple chair, and all the peace and quiet in the universe.

A steady stream of steam rose from her teacup, carrying with it the soft scent of comfort. She drank it in with a smile. Aaaah.

Whimper.

Sighing, Fluttershy placed the cup back on its saucer with just the barest rattle. She squinted, trying to make out a shape in the darkness. She swallowed, trying to hold back a shiver. The night air was cool and still. This was one of the few moments that she really had to herself. She loved her animals, of course, loved them dearly, but sometimes it was good to have a bit of time just for her. Just her and her tea and the silence.

Whimper.

Not tonight, it seemed. Fluttershy leaned forward, gazing into the neverending depths of the forest. It was no use. Nothing could be seen.
She should be getting back inside. Yes, back to the warmth and the light and the soft purring of a dozen sleepy bundles of fur. Whatever that was out there, it wasn’t her problem. It was the middle of the night, it was dark, she needed her sleep. Her animals needed her.

Whimp-yelp!

Fluttershy’s ears pricked. She sat up, alert. She strained to listen harder. She waited.

No sound followed. One minute passed, then two. Her tea was growing cold. She let out a long, deep breath. Okay. Another minute swept by. Standing, she took the tea back into her house, placing it shakily down on her kitchen counter. Treading carefully, she took her coat from its heart-shaped hanger, fumbling for the sleeves and buttoning it up. A lit lantern – her only source of light – begrudgingly shared a flame with a brother from beneath the sink, the wick lighting on the third try. Finally, she stood at the door, sealed in her coat, lantern in her mouth. Swallowing, she stepped out into the night.

Fluttershy was not what one might call an overly confident pony, but nor was she a particularly weak one either. It wasn’t that she was afraid of an argument, persay, she just preferred to sort things out peacefully, and if that meant letting others have their way now and then, well, she considered it a fair trade. One of a select few things she would not back down on, however, was helping those who needed it. No, on that Fluttershy was most adamant. It didn’t matter what sort of creature you were, Fluttershy would be only too happy to fix a leg, heal a cut, mend a wing. She would let nothing get in the way of her and an injured animal.

That being said, that didn’t mean she was overly fond of wandering through the Everfree Forest, especially at this time of night. Especially alone. Actually, the Everfree Forest was one of the places that she’d really rather not be at all – it seemed to her that every time she was in there something bad had either happened, or was about to.

She came to a halt at the edge of the trees, eyeing the spindly claws with apprehension. She cast one last longing look back at the house with all its warmth and safety, and stepped forward into the tangle.

Trees rose imposingly on either side of the path, tall and mocking, raking at the track which snaked into inky blackness. Fluttershy held the lantern up higher, peering through the dimly lit flora. She hoped the wounded animal wasn’t too far in. “H-hello?”

The darkness gazed back into her. She shivered. From somewhere, a whimper.

Fluttershy pressed onward. Looking up, she could see no stars, no sky. Trees reached out of the murk to tug at her mane, grabbing with too-long fingers as she passed underneath their glowering forms. Her eyes darted from left to right and back again, searching for the sound. She hoped it wasn’t much further – there were things in this forest she’d rather not run into. Big things, sharp, the kind of things that had too many eyes and too many teeth and altogether too little decency. The Everfree forest wasn’t just the home of things that went bump in the night; it was their nest.

As she walked forward, continuing to put one hoof in front of the other in front of the other, she noticed the path was growing increasingly indistinct. It sort of faded, vanishing into the ether, swallowed by the rotten leaves and mud and hissing green goo. When at last the path had disappeared entirely, she came to a halt. Looking around, she could see only trees. No light penetrated the canopy here; the lantern in her mouth the only thing between her and total darkness. Enough was enough. This was as far as she was going, and she decided then that if she didn’t hear the animal again, she’d turn around and go back to the quiet safety of her home. She coughed, “Uh...hello?”

There was no answer, only the creaking of wood and the crackle of wind.

“Uhm... Mister animal, where are you?”

Again: no response. Third time’s the charm, right?

“I’m h-here to help.”

The silence was deafening. She looked back at the last trickle of path behind her. A nice house full of nice animals beckoned. “I, I’m going to go now, okay...” She stepped backwards, slowly, before turning around to the track. Seven steps later, she froze.

Whimper.

She looked to the sky with pleading eyes. The sound was the loudest she’d heard yet, wavering from somewhere off to her right. To her right, and away from the path. Fluttershy hesitated. The Everfree forest was bad enough, but off the path...she’d heard enough stories of ponies disappearing to know never to leave the track.

Everfree, Everfree,
Where monsters dwell and shadows weep,
Careful now, it’s dark and deep,
Trees that move and bats that bite,
Nowhere is there quite a sight as
Everfree, Everfree,
Go in you might make it out,
Stay away you’ll have no doubt,
For in those misty, tangled woods,
Nothing lives that does do good,
Everfree, Everfree,
If you go in, there is a chance,
To make it out, be free to dance,
As long as you don’t leave the path,
You will not face the trees’ true wrath,
Everfree, Everfree,
Don’t tempt fate, stay far away,
Live to tell the tale someday,
Everfree, Everfree,
You’ll go in and never leave!

A foals song, sang by the old and supposedly wise, warning children of the forest. Not entirely accurate, though. Fluttershy mused, thinking of Zecora. There is some good in here.
She took a deep breath, and stepped off the path.

The air had grown no colder, but something about it had changed. It wasn’t quite wetter so much as slimy, it had gained a certain viscosity, it no longer flowed, but oozed, gaining a texture that was almost oily in its greasiness. The ground underhoof was soft, squishy, almost organic – layers upon layers upon layers of dead and dying leaves, the pungent, too-sweet scent of rot filling the air. Tall branches reached high overhead, bushes their scratchy counterpart on the forest floor.

Whimper.

The sound louder than it ever head been, Fluttershy was sure she was but seconds away from discovering its origin.

Grrrrrrrowll.

Her mouth went dry. There were many creatures in the forest unafraid to harm a pony. The growl had been low, aggressive – most certainly aggressive. Glancing behind her, she saw nothing, but that did nothing to put her at ease. She couldn’t even see the path where she’d come from, what chance was there she’d see a predator in its home territory? Fluttershy fixed her eyes back in front of her, not daring to look anywhere around her. What if– what if that’s whatever injured the animal? What if it’s still there? What if this was – Celestia forbid – a trap? Fluttershy felt her muscles tense, her steps becoming increasingly nervous. It could be an Ursa Minor. An Ursa Major! It could be a–

Timberwolf! Fluttershy’s blood froze in her veins. Her breath burned in her lungs. Her heart skipped several beats. Ahead, two yellow eyes bored into her. For a moment, nobody moved. The very air seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the first move. The eyes narrowed into slits. Fluttershy took a step backwards. Between them, the heavy atmosphere seemed to crack, spark. Then, the timberwolf lowered its head, and let out a mewl of pain. A whimper.

Fluttershy’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She shut her eyes, taking in a huge gulp of dead air. They flew open again as she released it through her nose. The timberwolf stared back into her, suspicious, a snarl carved in its muzzle. Fluttershy set her jaw, and took stock of the situation.

She was standing at the edge of a small hollow, the centre of which was occupied by the wolf. Ancient oaks sprawled around the sides of the clearing, their black branches effectively creating a dense wall as they interlocked and stabbed at eachother. If she looked hard enough, Fluttershy was sure she could see sagging faces, wrinkled and knotted, twisted into the very trunks themselves. Giggle at the ghostie... She shivered. Stepping forward, she hastily scrambled back as the timberwolf let out a low, throaty growl. Hmmm... She considered how to handle this. Most animals she tended to, she had at least some prior knowledge of, and that was the way she liked it. The last time she’d helped a creature without knowing what it was...well, she was just thankful Celestia had seen the funny side. Timberwolves, though... Couldn’t they regenerate? Didn’t they respond to dismemberment by simply reforming? Fluttershy didn’t know. It didn’t help that the few times she’d interacted with these creatures they’d tried to kill her.

Calm. She told herself, You can do this. Just one step forward...

A snarl.

One hoof in front of the other...

The creature’s eyes blazed with a terrible light as she approached, its jaws snapping on empty air, teeth gnashing as it watched her advance.

Just a few more steps...

She could see the beast’s fury – see it clear as day – but underneath it, she thought she could see something else. Something deeper. Beneath the savage eyes, the raging mouth, the vicious teeth, there was...sadness. Pain. Shame. And in that instant, Fluttershy felt her fear melt away. This was no mindless monster, but an intelligent animal. Feral, yes, but no less deserving of all the love and care she could give it. Fluttershy’s eyes softened. “Shhh...shhhh...it’s okay...” Her last few steps were careful, but not nervous.

She made her way around the creature, giving its jaws a wide berth as she examined it. It watched her warily as she circled, suspicious rumbling rolling from deep inside it, warning her not to come any closer. Fluttershy noted that the creature still hadn’t moved – and it didn’t take her long to find out why. Although the right side of the timberwolf looked fine – as far as she could see, anyway – its left side was in a rather more serious condition. Deep gouges were torn in the wood, clawmarks, by the look of them. Huge claws that had left scores so heavy that some of the poor thing’s branches were nearly completely severed. A green liquid – blood? sap? – oozed from the cuts, drying in distorted ridges which laced their way down the wolf’s side into a wide puddle of the stuff on the ground.

Fluttershy gasped, reaching a hoof forward to comfort the creature. With a sound that was a curious combination of a hiss and a growl, the wolf snapped its head back to her, bared teeth missing her hurriedly retracted hoof by inches. The motion pained the creature, its snarl turning into a yelp halfway as it glared at her. Fluttershy winced. “It’s alright, you’re safe. I just want to help you.” The timberwolf gave no indication it had understood. Fluttershy pressed on, “I just, I just need to take a look at you. It won’t hurt, I promise.” Only a low rumble from the wolf, upset, threatening.

How was she going to handle this? Animals in Ponyville, or any other inhabited area of Equestria, usually knew that ponies meant them no harm. While, for the most part, they couldn’t fully understand what she was saying, they could at least get the general idea of what she was trying to convey.

Wild animals, though...they were a peculiar breed. She’d tended to a few over the years, and it was always a struggle to communicate with them. There was something fundamentally different about them. Something pure, almost. Raw. Language was of no use to them, and neither were ponies.

This particular wild animal, however, was a special case even among its untamed brethren. It was a pack animal, for one. That was unusual in and of itself, but stranger still was its weird, magic-fuelled body of sticks and twigs, unique among any living being – as far as she was aware, anyway. None of this, though, was of any use to her at the moment.

Hmmm... She considered the creature in front of her. What was it thinking? It was scared; that much was abundantly clear. It was alone, badly injured, and at the mercy of an unknown being, which – judging from her past experiences with timberwolves – it probably regarded as prey. Embarrassed, as well, then. Brought low in front of an inferior creature. Yes, there had been a hint of shame in its eyes, hadn’t there? Hurt and scared and shamed and frustrated. Fluttershy gazed into the creature before her, and wondered how it would calm her, were their positions reversed. But then, it didn’t think the same way as her, did it? No, it was a wild animal, high on the food chain, everything was either prey or predator. Yet, now its position was reversed. It was the prey, and to it, she the predator. Aha! The spark of an idea bloomed to life in her brain. She had to put the wolf in power. She could almost hear Applejack’s voice in her head, berating her for such a terrible suggestion: "Are you out of your mind? Ah know you want to help these critters, sugarcube, but this is a timberwolf we’re talking about! Y’can’t expect it to hold its instincts back. That there’s a dangerous beast!"

Fluttershy sighed. She didn’t have an option. Not really. It was either calm the timberwolf, or let it die here, and that was no choice at all. She swallowed. The wolf looked at her suspiciously.

It was decided. Fluttershy took a deep breath, lifted her head, and, swallowing hard, bared her throat to the timberwolf. The blood raced in her veins as her heart hammered in her chest. What if it just bites? I’ll die out here, the wolf’ll die out here... Who’ll take care of Angel? My animals, they’ll think I’ve abandoned them! Her pulse thundered in her ears. The timberwolf looked baffled. Twilight, Rarity, what will they do? And poor Spike, I–

The timberwolf lowered its head, visibly relaxing. Fluttershy let out a deep breath of air, sagging as she felt relief flood her system. She was fine. And soon, so would be the timberwolf.

“Now then,” Fluttershy’s voice was audibly more at ease as she rubbed her forehooves together, “let’s see what we can do.”

Quiet. Calm, gentle quiet. The kind of quiet that makes your ears smile, your heart slow. The kind of quiet that only happens outside at 4 in the morning, when all the little foals are snuggled safely in bed, and even their parents are snoring contentedly. In a word: Peace.

Fluttershy sat on her porch, simple chair reclined under her body as she sipped her steaming tea. Ahhhh.

Ahead, she could just barely make out the shape of the Everfree forest, murky trees wreathed in a black haze. Behind her slept her animals, big and small and quick and slow, each so different and each unique. She loved them all with all her heart.

A single strand of whispy moisture rose from her dainty cup, the white china glowing in the dim light of an almost-full moon.

As she stared ahead at the trees, she thought she saw a light. A pair of yellow eyes, staring out at her from the darkness. They blinked once, slowly, and vanished. A brief smile touched her lips as she leaned back in her seat.

And somewhere, out in the forest, a timberwolf howled.