“How could you think it was bad?!” Scootaloo exclaimed, flailing her hooves as she nearly fell off the log she was sitting on.
For Scootaloo, camping Whitetail Woods with Rainbow Dash and her two closest friends and their sisters had become a near-monthly excursion (and important practice for the annual big-sister/little-sister camping trip to far off places). Out in the wilderness (even if, compared to the Everfree, Whitetail was hardly wild), sleeping in tents under the stars, fishing (just for fun, of course), roasting marshmallows and telling scary stories around the campfire made for some of the best memories she had, and probably would ever have.
Even if there was some disagreement about the quality of the after-dinner entertainment.
“I ain’t saying it was bad, Scootaloo. I’m just saying it ain’t no different from all the other stories she tells ‘round the campfire,” Applejack said.
“What’re you talking about? My stories are all totally different,” Rainbow fired back.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo said in agreement.
They were the only ones who looked convinced.
“Rainbow, Applejack does have something of a point,” Rarity chimed in. “You do have a number of stories to tell, but at the heart of it, they really are mostly the same story when you reach the end of them.”
“Well, it’s not like any of you are bringing scary stories that are actually scary. The last time one of you tried, I almost fell asleep!” Rainbow replied.
“Oh, you want a scary story? That what you want? Well, I got a scary story for you,” Applejack said sharply.
“Yeah? And what’s so great about your story?” Rainbow asked, arms folded across her chest.
“Unlike all of yours, mine actually happened, for starters.”
That grabbed everyone’s attention, five pairs of eyes now eagerly watching Applejack. “My ma told it to me,” she said. “A little bit before Bloom was born and probably way before I was old enough to be hearing stories like this one, but now that I’m older, I know why she told it to me. ‘Cuz I needed to know.”
A moment passed, and then Rainbow spoke up. “Ok, so maybe I’m interested now. Make with the story,” she said.
Applejack sighed and rolled her eyes. “Like I said, ma told me this just before Apple Bloom was born, and it happened a couple seasons ‘fore Big Mac was born, not that long after she and pa got hitched. Pa was off out of town, making deliveries to somewhere. Ma never said where, but I reckon that part ain’t important. What was important was that she and Granny just finished supper, and had all the fine plates and whatnot out of the table to get washed, since they was having company the next day. Course, this was back ‘fore the new kitchen sink, that’s the one we got right now, was put in. I never used the old one, but Mac says it was ornery like you wouldn’t believe, and had seen fit to stop working just as they was about to start.”
“Yawn!” Rainbow said suddenly. “I thought this was supposed to be a scary story.”
“I’m getting to it!” Applejack snapped. She took a moment to compose herself. “So, the sink sees fit to go on strike just before they’s starting dishes, and Granny shares a few unkind words about it. ‘Stay here, Pear Butter, I’ll be right back,’ she says, and she’s out the front door and circling round the side to get at the pump for the plumbing. Ma don’t see any point in trying to get started, since she knows Granny’ll want things going a certain way, so she parks herself by one of the front windows and has herself a look out at the night.
“The window was open, and there’s a breeze coming through, giving her a fine break from the heat, and that’s when she smells it. Rotten eggs, which she thinks is weird on account of she’s never smelled anything like that on the Acres before, and then it got worse, like something that died and got left in the sun. And she feels this tingle up her spine and the hairs all along it start to stand up. She calls out for Granny, but doesn’t get any reply. She’s afraid, that kind of deep fear you get when you know something ain’t right even when it looks like everything is. She’s thinking of locking the door and goes to call Granny again when she sees it, this shadow bounding out under the starlight towards the porch.”
Applejack paused, then looked back over her shoulder briefly, towards the trees at the edge of the clearing, and then back towards her audience.
“W-what’d she see?” Apple Bloom asked.
Applejack sighed. “A monster,” she said.
“Now, ya’ll know that it weren’t ponies what lived in these lands first. Coyotes was here first, and they had legends. Old legends. Older’n any of the ‘yote chiefs out west that they talk about in school. Older’n the Sisters. Older’n anything pony hooves built ‘round here. Legends ‘bout the old ‘yote magic, ‘bout deals made with the spirits for power. Dark power. Power to fight each other, and fight the buffalo when they got too near, and later to fight the ponies when they came to claim the land for themselves.”
Applejack paused again and looked at her audience, all of them leaning forward and watching her intently with their eyes opened wide. Even Rainbow.
“Skinwalkers is what they called ‘em. Old warriors come back to life. They had no fur or skin on ‘em, just sinew and muscle, tromping ‘round on boar legs in back and deer legs in front, with an eagle’s body and a ‘yote’s head, but all wrong. Sixteen hooves tall at the shoulder, even hunched over. Mouths full of too many teeth sharper’n any knife you’ve ever seen. They’d gut their enemies, and the old ponies that first came here, and tear through a full grown buffalo like they was a potato sack. Tricky, too. Change their voice just like a changeling, make ‘em sound like somepony you know, or might know. That’s what she saw. Big and fast with two red eyes, running past the porch just outside the light, hooves clomping in the dirt ‘fore it stopped. Just for a second, it turned and looked through the window, right at her, right into her eyes and she swore it grinned at her, and then it was gone.
“She felt like there was lightning in the air, like how it feels just before a bolt comes down from a cloud. She felt like death was close, knew it was close. She tried yelling for Granny, but all that came out was a li’l squeak.”
Applejack’s audience was shaking now, even though they had to know how the story ended. Applejack was there to tell it, and Apple Bloom was there to listen, after all.
“Skinwalker’s real power, though, was changing their skin. That’s why the spirits took theirs away, so they could take ‘em from others. Not for long, not ever for long, but long enough to do evil ‘fore the poor soul whose hide they took came looking for it and then went off to whatever was waiting for ‘em on the other side. And ma’s standing there, just staring out the windows and shaking when the door opens, and she spins and grabs a plate off the table like it was a shield. And it’s just Granny that comes in. ‘Land sakes, girl, it’s just me,’ she says, and walks straight over to the sink and starts up the water. ‘Now, hurry it up. Got plenty to do yet if we’re having company tomorrow.’ So, ma starts collecting the plates off the table just like she usually did, figuring that it’s Granny after all.”
“But how’d she know?!” Rainbow asked. She looked around at the rest of the camping group — who were now looking at her — straightened herself up and coughed, and smiled in the smug way she often did. “I mean, I guess she knew ‘cuz Granny said something about company coming over, right?”
“No.”
The smile fled from Rainbow’s face, and all eyes moved back to Applejack.
“When ma carried over the first stack of plates, she looked out the window over the sink. You know the one. And there, just outside the light, she sees that thing, watching her with them red eyes and grinning with too many too sharp teeth, and she starts shaking and tries to get Granny’s attention. And Granny? She just keeps her eyes down in the sink, washing dishes and says, ‘Pear Butter. Don’t look at it. Never look at it.’ That’s how she knew.”
Silence fell over the group, broken only by the crackle of the campfire.
“Well, I’m beat, time for bed goodnighteverypony!” Rainbow said before she zipped into her tent.
“Yeah, what she said greatideagoodnight!” Scootaloo added, zipping after her.
The four ponies remaining looked after them for a moment before Rarity stood up. “Yes, I do believe that bed is in order. Amusing as Applejack’s story was, it was equally ghastly, and I’d rather not get worked up anymore than I already am. Wouldn’t you agree, Sweetie Bell?” she said.
“Y-yeah, don’t need to be worked up any more!” Sweetie said with a too bright smile before she shrunk down a little bit. “But, um, maybe we could put a little more wood on the fire?”
“Don’t you worry, Sweetie. I reckon Bloom and I can keep this fire burning ’til sunrise,” Apple jack replied.
“Oh, good! I mean, uh, thanks Applejack.” Sweetie hurried off to the tent she was sharing with Rarity — who was not far behind — and Apple Bloom could help but think of the oversized luxury as somehow more secure than the tiny one that she and Applejack would be sharing. She did not voice this thought as Applejack added some more logs to the fire, offset from the center and laid end on end so that they would be in sequence, instead of all at once, and then both retired to their own tent.
“Hey, Applejack?” Apple Bloom asked as she pulled her sleeping bag opened.
“Yeah, Bloom?” Apple jack asked, climbing into her own sleeping bag and setting her hat over her face.
“There… there ain’t really any skinwalkers, are there?” she asked.
Applejack lifted her hat and raised her head enough to look at her sister. “Bloom, it was just a story,” she said. “Ma swore up and down that it happened, but you and me, we paid attention in school. Weren’t no ‘yotes ‘round these parts, never was. They’s all out west.”
Apple Bloom let out a heavy breath. “So, there ain’t no skinwalkers out there?” she asked with some excitement.
Applejack shook her head. “Ain’t never seen no skinwalkers out there, if there was ever any to see at all,” she replied.
Apple Bloom heaved a heavy sigh and smiled. “Thanks, Applejack. It was a great story, but next time, maybe we can stick to some that ain’t so scary?” she suggested.
“I think that’d do just fine, Bloom.” Applejack yawned, and then replaced her hat over her face and tucked down into her sleeping bag. “G’night, li’l sis.”
“G’night, big sis,” Apple Bloom replied, tucking into her own sleeping bag. She looked at the ceiling of their tent for a few seconds, and then sat up with a start as she realized a very important detail she had at first missed in what Applejack said. She trembled, looking out through the narrow opening in the tent canvas.
Just beyond the light of their campfire, something with too many too sharp teeth looked back at her, right into her wide eyes pinpricked by fear, and grinned.
Author's Note
Inspired by the short story “My Grandfather Saw a Skinwalker,” written by ronindog. You can read it here, or listen to a wonderful reading by NaturesTemper here.
