It was a long fall, and the water numbed my body, but I could still feel. I wasn't dead, thank god. What probably kept me alive without breaking any bones was a deep river at the bottom of the cliff. Thankfully, no rocks were jutting up out of the water, but that did not stop it from making the fall hurt a whole ton.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a world of chaos. I was flying down the river at the speed of a jet, slamming into the river bank, sending cold shivers up and down my spine.

The real question is, why didn't the Unicorns or the Alicorn decimate me on the spot? I should be dead right now, not flying around a river out of control. Whatever I guess. I'm still alive.

Kicking out desperately, I try to breathe, but end up getting a mouth full of dirty river water. My hand lurches out of the water to grasp onto something, ANYTHING, but come up with nothing. I try again, and catch a branch from a tree that's close enough to the river for me to grab hold. I pull myself out of the water, and nearly drop back in. My hand is bleeding like crazy, and burns like hell. My muscles strain as I lift myself up, my clothes heavy as two ton bricks.

Climbing up the branch, I take a deep breath, and let out a sigh.

"Fuck." What an accurate word to describe what just happened. Maybe I should say it again to show I'm really 'feeling it'. "Fuck." I repeat, but with a bit more effort.

I take another heavy breath, right after I choke some river water out of my mouth. Ew.

Heart thumping, I try to calm myself as I climb higher onto the limb of the tree. Jesus Christ... I LITERALLY SAW AN ALICORN. That's a feat in itself. Especially since I survived. That's definitely gonna get me some points when I meet another survivor, no doubt. Too bad I don't have a camera to prove it though.

What was the best way to handle the situation? I think about this question for a minute, trying to come up with an answer.

Well, most of my human peers would be leaving these woods at the speed of a Nascar, probably in fear of being caught by the "ponies" (& co.). But they probably know by now that would be my first instinct. I'm not stupid. Proof of that would be my survival for the last three years.

On the other hand, I know Luna isn't going to just fall for my little game. She's going to send in a search party anyways, even if she thinks I'm heading back for Colorado Springs. Hell, she's probably searching this very river right now. I need to get moving to Chicago, where the remaining Humans have made a safe haven. I let out a sigh, realizing just how far I have to go. Why can't I ever catch a break?

I grit my teeth as I open up my backpack and pull out my stitching kit, which was MEANT for clothes, but I'm gonna have to work with what I got. That's what everything is nowadays. Work with what you got.

I lift up my knife with my left hand, and make a very clumsy chop at the tree, and remove some bark from it's exterior. I shove the bark in my mouth, and bite down on it hard, chewing for a minute to make a soft pulp of what was once just some dirty wood and tree sap. I try to evenly spread it out between my teeth to act as a cushion for when I end up grinding my teeth together from the pain. Then, I put the needle that already has thread to my hand.

I slowly shove the needle into my hand, and feel a burning sensation fly throughout my hand as I bite down as hard as I can on the bark. Shoving the rest of the needle through my hand, I choke, hot tears sliding down my cheek. Fuck. This.

Stop being such a wuss, Chrysie. You can do this. It hurts, but what hurt the most? Seeing Mom and Dad turn themselves into those things and... Look, the point is, hurry up and get it over with. This isn't the worst thing to happen to you.

I'm trying. God, isn't that good enough?

For a second, I think about turning myself in. They won't kill me, but I don't really want to be a hybrid. Nor a dragon. Or a griffin... Really, screw all that. Why the hell would I even consider it.

I shove the needle through my skin again, trying to stay calm, when I stop to listen for a second. Panting hard, my hand twitches crazily as I try to regain my senses.

Fuck this, man.

I nearly choke on the bark as another needle slowly slides through my flesh, creating a nice little patchwork skin quilt. Cute.

This is an in-explainable amount of pain. An exhausting amount of effin' pain.

Hey, Chrysie. You know what Apollyon always said? Suck it up, dirtwad. Alright, maybe he didn't always say that but that's what you are Chrysie. A dirt wad. You haven't showered in three years, so it makes sense right? The closest thing you've had to a shower was your little dip in the river ten minutes ago.

I really need to stop talking to myself. He's dead. Dead. And who the hell wants to remember the dick-like tendencies of a dead person? Nobody, that's who.

After about twenty more pain filled journeys of needle misery, I'm finally done repairing my dysfunctional hand. Carefully, I lean back against the trunk of the tree to open my backpack again. I adjust my shoulder so that I'm loosely hanging over the branch of the tree, and able to reach into my bag.

You know what you think? What you know? You know they didn't die.

I ignore myself, and reach for my backpack. Quit thinking. Thinking is for pussies. Thinking's what gets you killed.

I grab my box of Granola bars (which I traded a small box of ammo for half a year ago) and select a chocolate covered almond one. Not very nutritious, but delicious according to anyone I've ever met. Chocolate in any sort of form nowadays is hard to come by. Just like all candy's and sweets and fun things. Now everything is lame. And boring. And stale. And like... Lame. Gross.

Sighing, I unwrap the wrapper on the bar of oats and chocolate, and get ready to rip into the little sad source of nutrition as some sort of prize for not dying. That was what I was saving the chocolate one for, after all.

And just as soon as I take my first bite, a Timberwolf jumps up to my branch and yanks me to the floor. My granola bar flies off for the river, and I'm dragged deeper into the woods. My mind sort of goes into slow motion as I realize how fucking ridiculous this is.

By now, I don't really have much of a choice on whether I'm going to get eaten or not because:

(1) I lost my gun to a Unicorn's stupid ass magic, (2) I'm being dragged face-down in the dirt, (3) my knife is currently residing in my backpack which is, you guessed it, (4) hanging on the stupid fucking tree.

Now, what would be the first thing you would do in this situation? Scream like a little bitch, probably. Me on the other hand; "Help! It's got me! HEEELP!" Screaming as loud as I can, the Timberwolf stops to growl at me before it kills me. Snarling, it lunges for me and nearly rips my face off. Instead, it wraps it's jaws around my abdomen (below my breasts), and shakes me violently. Grabbing a fist-full of dirt, I throw it into it's eyes as I frantically try to to escape it's grip. It's mouth goes slack, and releases me from it's wooden grip.

I scramble to my feet and run, before realizing I have to grab my backpack which is filled with essential survival tools.

Unfortunately, the little cock head is guarding the tree with its life. It bares it's teeth menacingly, and makes a weird chuckling sound. Which also means that it knows exactly what I'm going for.

"Come on dude, can't you just give me a break already?" I say with a frustrated sigh.

Summoning up all my courage, I lean down and grab a rock before choking out a stupid one-liner. "Kick rocks, wad!"

I have never felt so pumped and scared in my whole life. The Timberwolf bounds out at me, before shrinking back and letting out a spine-chilling snarl, taunting me. I chuck my one and only rock at it's face, which collides directly with it's wooden snout. It seems stunned for a moment as it howls in frustration. I search for something else to throw at it before a loud gunshot rings through the forest. And then, it’s jaw goes slack as it collapses into a heap in the dirt. For a split second, I feel like I'm about to be shot as well, so I put my hands up casually. I let in a deep breath, and prepare to try to reason with whoever shot the wolf.

“Hello there. What do ya think yer doing in these parts?” I swirl around in confusion and come face to face with... A human boy, armed to the teeth with ammunition and weaponry. He has pale skin, and looks as if he was raised somewhere in the country. He has a contemplating look plastered on his face. "It's awfully rude to ignore a gentleman, miss.” He mutters. My eyes veer off to his tough hands, which clutch a revolver tightly.

“Where the hell did you come from?” I shout in panic. Indeed, I have no clue where this kid came from.

“Well, I aught ta be asking YOU that question. What in the bloody hell are you doing in Colorado? Are ya fuckin' mental or somethin’?” He snaps back. "Or are you trying to get killed?"

“Oh my god...” I try to wrap my mind around what’s going on, as the stranger sits down on a good sized rock. I let out a sigh of relief. "Woah... Okay... I need... I need to sit down."

“Excuse me, Miss. I just saved yer life. That Timberwolf right there just about ate ya up fer breakfast. I think I deserve a name from you, at the very least. As for me, my name is Dixon. I’m searching these woods for anyone who’s stupid enough to wander in here.” He explains, before pointing at me.

“But... How did you find me? Aren’t you survivors supposed to be heading for Chicago?” I ask.

“Uh, yeah. Not me though, I gotta search for people who are wandering around. It's like, obligatory or somethin'. Ya still haven’t answered ma question, by the way. Who are you?” He waves the pistol around. I notice a shotgun on his back, so I have a feeling he's not going to be easy to take down if it comes to confrontation.

“You’re just some random kid! How can I trust you? What if you like, want to rape me or something?” I question, concern setting in. "I did not come this far to get violated." I warn. "I'll kick your fucking ass."

“I ain’t gonna rape ya, miss. This world's gone fuckin' nuts, but us humans gotta' look out for each other. Even if some of us are really, really stupid." He rolls his eyes, again pointing at me.

“Fuck you dickhead.” I try to make the most annoyed face as possible to convince him that I'm not impressed.

“Sure, I'ma dick, but aren't we all nowadays? We have to be." He flashes me an annoyingly charming smile, before continuing, "Now do tell me, what were ya doin in these woods?” He flashes an adorable, annoying smile, as I sigh and sit down.

“I was actually in Arizona, and was crossing through Colorado on my expedition to Boston. My mistake.” I mutter. Of course it was my mistake. The same mistake that got my siblings killed.

“Isn’t Arizona, like, the place where, uh...”

“Sorry, what’d you say?” I ask, feeling my heart sink as I realize we're about to hit touchy subject territory.

“... It’s ground zero, huh?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah. Ground Zero.” I feel my heart sink as we sit quietly. “ I wasn't there, when the bomb hit. I mean, I lived there but... My family was lucky, we were on vacation in Minnesota.” I explain.

Arizona. It was where the first attempt at destroying all of the pony fuckwads was made. It... It didn't work. Obviously.

“Oh. Well, what were ya doin’ there?” He asks. "Ya weren't concerned about radiation?"

“Well-” I begin.

A small rustle in the tree to my left stops my explanation, as me and Dixon both stop to stare at the tree.

Tonight had been a really peaceful night, without any wind. So I can't understand how that the tree's leaves just moved on their own. Weird.

And then things take a complete turn for the worst, as a Griffon hops down onto one of the branches, and looks down at us.

“Hey Dixon did you-, OH MY GOSH!” I feel my heart sink. “Heya! My name’s Maxie!” The griffon perched on the tree branch cocks it's head excitedly.

Unless Dixon snaps out of his stupid trance, we are dead meat. Literally. This thing will probably feast on our corpse.

“Maxie! Not now! You’ll scare her!” Dixon groans. Maxie? Who in the hell is Maxie?

“...” I carefully reach for my back pack, which is perched directly above me. My knife. I need that knife NOW.

“Oh, sorry Dixon. I just returned from my little scouting raid because I heard the gunshot. Are you okay? Oh my gosh, you must have shot that Timberwolf right through the eye! It’s corpse is barely scathed.” It observes, apalled. I try to understand. How does it know Dixon's name?

My eyes never leave its body as I reach deep in my backpack for my throwing knife.

“D-dixon? What’s going on here?” I slowly question. I need to buy time.

“Oh, sorry again miss. Her name’s Maxie, she’s my best freind. She’ll be helping us get outta the forest. I hope she didn’t scare ya... Anyways, what’s yer name miss? I never caught it.” He asks politely.

My hand wraps around the handle of the knife, and I lift up my arm in an arch. The blade comes loose from my grip, and flies off towards the Griffon, dead center. A bullseye. No way will it miss.

The griffon barely moves a feather as it dodges my one and only knife with expertise skill and precision.

“Hey!” The griffon ducks, and my one and only knife flies into the forest. “Are you trying to... Kill me?” The griffon glides down in front of me, and stops directly in front of me. “I think we can be great friends. But I sorta can’t if you’re trying to stab me. Relationship's just won't work that way.” It blinks once, and searches my eyes for something. My heart is thumping REALLY, REALLY, hard. The griffon smiles before backing up awkwardly. It blushes.

“H-how...?” I stutter. I have had years of practice with throwing knives, Dad always took us to the range to practice. How did this Griffon dodge it JUST like that? I avert my eyes to Dixon as I quietly ask with my eyes, WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?

“Oh, Maxie’s a... Come with me real quick... We’ll be right back Maxie. Can I please get your name?” He asks.

“Yeah, AS SOON AS YOU TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!” I exclaim.

“Look. Maxie’s a hybrid. She was human, then the enemy tried to convert her into a part of their Griffon army. Mind control bullshit, creating bodies for our consciences, stuff like that. She doesn’t like talking about it. How about that though? We humans will be able to give them a taste of their own medicine! We can finally fight back, now!" He exclaims excitedly. I try to piece together what he just said.

“What the hell does that mean? It could rip us apart!” I whisper menacingly. I know damn well what he means, but aren't hybrids supposed to, like, lose all their memories and sense of human reasoning? All they've ever know was to kill us because of what 'we' did. Whatever that was.

“First off, Maxie's a her; Not an ‘it’. Secondly, she’s really nice, so I expect ya to be real kind to her. She’s been through a lot, and she’s pretty nice to everyone she meets. Including people who through knives at her. Now, I think I deserve to know your name.” He gives me his cute, stupid smirk again and all I can do is sigh.

“My name’s Chrysie. Now quit asking.” I mutter. I try to push him out of the way so I can trudge off and think.

“What an interesting name. I don’t think I've heard it before. Now, Miss Chrysie, let’s get back to Maxie and get some rest. Introduce ya to her.” He suggests. He grabs my shoulder and spins me around so that I'm facing him.

“Ugh...” I groan, not really interested in the Griffin, whoever 'she' is.

“You should really stop mumbling, Chrysie. It makes ya sound super annoying.” He jokes, as he pulls a thing of bread out of his back pack and tosses it between his hands. He holds it out as if it's a sword, and teasingly slaps me with it. I actually smile, probably out of the sheer fact that the situation is awkward, and just let out a quiet murmur of "whatever."

Of course, he tells me to stop mumbling again.

So I stop mumbling.

Author's Note

Pre-Reader Acknowledgement(s);
GalaxyGamer, Eon333Ms

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