Building Ponies

“We knew when the Hope Herd joined us that the marks were not limited to our herd, now we know they are not limited to Earth ponies either.” True murmured. Around her the full Council had gathered. Rockslide frowned into the fire, as he so often did. Shiny looked disgruntled, her ears pinned slightly back. Pink looked the same as ever and Thistle and Woodpecker both looked concerned.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Thistle argued. “I know better than most that marks are seen as status symbols, ponies without them are constantly trying to get them. If unicorns weren’t capable of getting marks then eventually our ponies would begin to look down on them.”

“Yes, but the marks as a symbol worked for us.” Woodpecker pointed out. “Ponies feel proud to have them, especially considering you were the first. Once outside ponies start getting them, it’ll stop being special and start being as normal as different colored manes and tails.”

True watched Thistle look away, clearly biting her tongue to keep from saying what she really thought. Thistle didn’t like that the marks were considered special. She wanted them to be normal, despite nopony claiming she bestowed them anymore.

At least she was good at keeping those thoughts hidden when necessary. A Lead Mare couldn’t let the herd know her every little thought.

“The stairs themselves are really gonna help though.” Pink perked up. “We were having some issues building up the walls high enough to keep ponies from climbing them, but that won’t be an issue now. And this is really going to help with my tower idea! And since Onyx has a construction mark now I should be able to leave the Wall under his supervision for a few hours at a time so I can start work on that!”

“Once the tower is completed we’ll have to work out a series of signals for the herd.” Rockslide made his contribution.

“A signal for ponies to come inside the walls, a signal for incoming danger,” Thistle’s eyes crossed. “How would we contact ponies out on patrol?”

“Uh, hmm,” Pink scratched her chin. “We might have to try a few things out to see what works. For now, I just want to get the Wall done.”

So many things to consider. So much still left to do. She almost longed for the days of hard travel. Decisions were easier to make then.

Looking down at the filly sleeping between her hooves, True pushed away those thoughts. Bluebell was her youngest, maybe even last, foal. She was also the third of nine to survive past two years of age.

She refocused on the present with a force of will.

“We’ll revisit the topic of signals at a later time.” She decided. “For now, are there any other bits of news we should discuss this evening?”

“Food supplies are holding steady, Marsh Steps says we can expect an especially good harvest this year.” Shiny straightened up to report. “Although, if I’m considering our current rate of growth correctly, I believe we will need to both expand our fields and our storehouse next year.”

“Expand the storehouse?” Thistle’s eyes went wide in shock.

“Expanding it wouldn’t be easy.” Pink winced. “Building techniques have improved, sure, but I’d probably have to demolish the whole thing in order to expand it. It would be less trouble to just build a second one.” Her ears suddenly pricked up and the corners of her mouth lifted. “Oooh, idea!”

“I could use the stairs to build an improved cellar in the storehouse, more space to store food, and if I do have to build a second storehouse later then,” True held up a hoof to stop the babble.

“Pink, while we all appreciate the genius you apply to your work, I feel we are getting a little off topic.” She explained.

“Oh, right, sorry Lead Mare.” Pink flushed, ducking her head slightly in embarrassment.

“No harm done. Shall we continue?” She looked around the room.

“I have no more to report, Lead Mare.” Shiny waved her on.

“Some signs of Timberwolves have been seen, but so far the monsters have been avoiding our patrols.” Rockslide reported. It seemed the wooden beasts could learn after all.

“Anypony else?” She looked between the three youngest ponies.

“Nothing new, Lead Mare.” Woodpecker spoke solemnly. Thistle and Pink both nodded in confirmation.

“Then, until tomorrow.” With that, everypony said their goodnights and began to leave. True placed a hoof over Rockslide’s to keep him from following Woodpecker out. Shiny left, but she returned as soon as the three younger council members had turned for home.

“How goes Woodpecker’s training?” True began the second meeting.

“Well.” Rockslide sighed deeply. Shiny, rather than remaining sitting poised across from them, took up his other side and leaned against him so they all three lay before the fire. “He does not complain, he’s skilled enough at physical skills and is friendly with most of the other stallions. I do not believe any will challenge him when the time comes.”

“He’s…ambitious.” True couldn’t see Shiny, but she could well imagine the pursed lips that accompanied the words.

“So were we.” She reminded them, far more gently than she did with any other ponies.

Ambitious, yes. They’d wanted to lead the herd. They’d wanted to be followed.

She didn’t feel ambitious anymore. Maybe that was age. Wisdom. Maybe it was the Light-That-Wasn’t. Either way, True was tired of being the Lead Mare. They’d never say it, but she knew Rockslide and Shiny were tired too, in their own way.

Two years, give or take a few months, and the reins of power would be given over to the next generation. Nopony would call her Lead Mare then.

“Thistle Burr will keep him under control.” She said instead of what she’d been thinking.

“We’ll need to talk to her about teaching somepony else to be the healer.” Shiny reminded them with a huff.

“There’s time.” Rockslide leaned over her and looked over Bluebell. Recognizing the look on his face, True gently stood and relocated her filly to the soft sleeping mat on the other side of the fire. When she walked back over she saw Rockslide had already begun nibbling at Shiny’s neck. Gracefully, True laid down and began to knead her stallion’s muscles.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thistle woke up first, just like always. Light was a little harder to wake up in the mornings and she normally didn’t wake until Thistle had already left.

She took in a deep breath, smelling the morning dew on the breeze. She stretched luxuriously as she stood.

Herbs dangled from the ceiling and walls, gourds laid in baskets, both on the floor and down in the cellar. She checked the water pot and saw it was a little low. She grabbed her baskets and carefully balanced the pot on her back. Pots held water a lot better than the waterproof baskets Pink had made. They could be made larger and couldn’t be eaten by snackish foals.

Outside, the first thing she did was check the garden. The rabbits didn’t bother her garden as much as others, due in large part to the variety of herbs she grew, including many that could make living things sick for eating them. She pulled a few weeds, sprinkled them with the rest of the water from the pot, then made her way to the lake for more water.

She crossed over the Wall’s foundations along the way. Once the Wall was built it would make it harder to get water every day. She hesitated a moment before continuing on her way.

Most of the herd got their daily water from the lake. A few creeks ran through the southern portion of the valley where the fields were and there was the gully that flowed in every season but summer. Since coming here nopony had ever worried about where to find water.

But once the Wall was up? Once they were stuck inside with an invading herd waiting beyond those stone Walls? What would ponies do for water then?

She filled her pot up by the big willow tree. Standing under its leaves usually helped organize her thoughts. It had worked so well when anxiety over Woodpecker and foals was overwhelming her. Now, she closed her eyes and tried to summon that peace of mind.

An old lesson came to mind. Maybe even the oldest lesson she knew. How to find water.

The ground in the village was fertile soil, good and dark and soft. There was water aplenty in the valley, in the lake and creeks and river and even from the rain. Maybe Clay Hooves could make some very large pots to catch rainwater in.

No, no, she shook her head. That only worked when it rained. In winter they could melt snow for drinking water. But summer? It didn’t rain much in summer.

Her ears pricked forward and she turned around, startled to hear…

There was no one there. Thistle frowned and checked harder. She couldn’t hear anypony anymore but for a moment she could’ve sworn she heard somepony talking.

It was probably just the wind. Rustling through the willow leaves, it probably sounded like a pony’s voice.

Even though she hadn’t felt any breeze.

Thistle Burr snorted and dragged her hoof across the ground. She wasn’t going to be spooked by wind just because she was worried about their water supply. The Wall wasn’t anywhere near being done yet. She had time to talk to the others and come up with a solution.

After taking the pot home to Light, she set off for the graveyard. The Wall was finished in that section so she had to go a ways around it. She did see Onyx building another set of stairs and she passed Pink on the path towards Gem Mountain, gone to gather more rocks with the cart.

The graveyard was the same as last time. Stones with magic marks carved on them and stones with no marks at all. Was that Dew Drop’s grave or Quiet Glade’s? Neither had gained a mark before dying. Rose Bud would know.

Rose Bud didn’t seem to be here yet. Thistle shrugged and forced the questions from her mind. Dew Drop had bled to death in foal birth. Quiet Glade had been an old nag who’d gotten the flu and died two winters ago.

Enduring Rock’s grave was a welcome sight. Thistle couldn’t help but sigh in relief as she finally sat before her old mentor.

“Hello again.” She greeted her, knowing Enduring was beyond greeting her back.

“You’d be amazed how fast things are changing now.” She told Enduring. “The Wall that’s being built, the unicorns, did I tell you about the unicorns? Three of them, one stallion and two mares, have joined the herd. We haven’t met any others yet, but we might soon meet a Pegasus herd. I’ve told you about that, haven’t I?”

She had to keep checking to make sure Rose Bud didn’t sneak up on her. Only the Council was supposed to know about the Pegasus coming.

“I stood on top of the wall and was amazed by what I could see. It was different from standing on the hill.” She told her. “I was standing on something we made. With our own four hooves. Well, and Onyx’s horn, I suppose. The Light-That-Wasn’t gave the unicorns magic to move things with their minds. The Pegasus have true flight and can control the weather, we’ve heard.”

“It’s…frightening, to think we might have to fight something like that.” She grit her teeth. “I know there are bad ponies in every herd, but surely most ponies are good and wouldn’t seek to destroy what we have here.”

What would her herd have done if they’d come across a village back when they were still wandering?

If they’re herd had not been so lucky, if their ponies were a smidgen less talented and they hadn’t found somepony who could lead them around the monsters.

The image wouldn’t come. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t imagine living that way. Frankly, she had a hard time remembering anything before meeting Enduring.

The crunch of hooves on soil reached her ears. She turned and saw Rose Bud making her way through the far end of the graveyard with her basket of flowers. She’d stopped for a moment to speak to one of the graves with that enigmatic smile she always wore.

“I’ll be going now, Enduring.” Thistle sighed. “There are things that need doing. I’m supposed to meet up with Woodpecker in a bit actually. I’m…still not sure about him, but at least I’m not mindlessly panicking anymore.”

Right, not panicking. She was definitely capable of making a sound decision about Woodpecker.

Thistle sighed through her nose, banishing such thoughts to the shadows where they belonged.

She weaved through the village, exchanging nods and waves with the other early risers she met. She trotted by the foal field where Holly and Light spent most of their days. Sapphire was with them today. Emerald was probably in the fields then.

“Good morning, Thistle Burr.” And there he was, Woodpecker. He had his spear, shield, and a pair of baskets strapped to his back. He was fully prepared for their outing.

“Good morning, Woodpecker.” She nodded politely, stepping up beside him and steering them towards the forest.

With the shadows of the leaves on their backs, they walked. There were a few footpaths worn by ponies who still preferred wild greens, but most of the forest was the same untamed wilderness they’d lived their foalhoods in. The chatter of insects, birds, and squirrels filled the air as a welcome relief from the village noise.

Thistle didn’t come to the forest for peace though. Her eyes scanned the ground and her ears swiveled back and forth, trying to catch every little sound. When she found an herb she wanted she pulled out the flint knife Pucker had given her and she took some cuttings. If it was an herb she didn’t know or didn’t have, she’d pry its roots free of the dirt to replant in her garden.

From the corner of her eye she saw Woodpecker scanning the forest, one hoof on his spear at all times. He never allowed himself to be distracted from his chosen task. In this case, protecting her while she gathered herbs.

“Am I making you nervous?” Her ears flicked back at his question.

“I’m sorry?” She started hesitantly.

“When we first got here you inspected every patch of ground, but I’ve now seen you twice trot past a collection of herbs I recognize from your garden.” He pointed to a patch to her left that she hadn’t even noticed.

Yes, Dawn’s Flowers. They had pink and orange flowers with blue-tinged leaves. She’d discovered them last year and found they worked very well for treating cracked hooves.

Sheepishly, she began to take a few cuttings. She did have a small group of them growing in her garden, but with all the construction work she tended to run out fast.

“I apologize for making you nervous, Thistle Burr.” She didn’t sigh, though she wanted to.

“Its not your fault.” She reassured him. “I suppose it’s just that I’ve never gone gathering with a patrol pony before. It’s always been with friends and family, so we tend to talk more. I do appreciate you coming with me, Woodpecker.” She added.

“Well, if it’s conversation you want.” He smirked. “Why not tell me how you think we’ll fare when the Pegasus arrive?”

“I’ve been trying not to think of it lately.” She admitted tiredly. “I hate planning for what the worst ponies will do. Do you think other herds get so nervous at the thought of running into each other?”

“Hmm,” He gave the question some thought. “From what I can recall, yes.”

That wasn’t the answer she’d expected.

“Really?” She asked curiously. When they’d met the Hope Herd she remembered it as something exciting.

“I was almost a stallion before the Light-That-Wasn’t arrived.” He reminded her. “I remember this one time we came across another herd and things nearly erupted into an all-out fight. I believe it was caused by some stallion attempting to draw some mares away from another stallion.”

“Though admittedly, my memory of the time is rather blurred.” He shuffled a little, looking uncomfortable. “Thistle Burr, I hope this doesn’t come off as rude, but what do you remember about your dam?”

“My dam?” She repeated. “She was…named Water Lily, she was the herd’s water finder. Why?”

“Is that all you remember?” He pressed.

She stopped and thought harder. Water Lily, a water finder, she’d died three days before the Light-That-Wasn’t appeared. Hadn’t she? Thistle couldn’t remember now what she’d died of.

“What did she look like?” Woodpecker asked her.

“I…I don’t remember.” She realized. “Blazing Suns, I don’t remember what my own dam looked like!”

“I don’t remember my granddam, though she died only shortly before the Light-That-Wasn’t appeared.” Woodpecker told her. “I don’t remember what I did before the Light-That-Wasn’t. I know we traveled, I know we ran into another herd now and again, but honestly? That’s all. Even when I try I can’t summon forth any specific memory before that time.”

Thistle nearly sat down in shock. Hadn’t True Blue said something similar at the riverside? That ponies were changing since the Light-That-Wasn’t?

She hadn’t known Enduring for even a full year, but she still felt her loss keenly. She’d lost her dam just days before meeting Enduring and hadn’t cared except for the fact it was harder for a filly to survive alone.

“Seeing all the things that have changed since the Light-That-Wasn’t,” He continued. “I believe that it enlarged our minds in some way, made us able to think and feel new things as well as giving us magic. What do you think?”

She ran that over in her mind. Before the Light only a few ponies could do new things. Enduring had known how to heal and make gourds and find water, but she hadn’t done any of those things until after the Light-That-Wasn’t. Afterwards? She’d adopted an orphaned filly and taught her everything she knew.

“I think you may be right.” She decided at last. She took a deep breath and led them towards a clearing she knew near the gully.

She opened her mouth to say something. Then closed it so sharply that her teeth clicked.

The birds weren’t singing anymore.

Woodpecker seemed to realize it at the same time. His tail lashed side to side and he lifted his spear. Their ears turned this way and that. They wouldn’t hear any breathing: Timberwolves didn’t breathe except for when they howled. If they were lucky they’d hear leaves rustling or twigs snapping. If they were very lucky they’d see a green glow before it got close enough to pounce.

“Thistle Burr, when I say ‘now’, run for the village as fast as you can.” Woodpecker whispered. “Don’t slow down and don’t stop for anything. Go straight to the village.”

“A-Alright,” She nodded. Right, the village. She slowly turned in a circle so she was facing east.

There was a green glow in the shadows behind them.

“Woodpecker!” She hissed, tensing harder than she’d ever tensed before.

“Festering Shadows!” He cursed. She didn’t dare turn her head to look at him. She didn’t want to look away from the eyes glowing in the shadows.

“Okay, okay,” He stepped forward until their sides were touching. “Southeast then, don’t stop, don’t slow, do not allow them to herd you anywhere.”

She shivered. This was the closest she’d ever been to a monster before. Her heart pounded so fast she worried it would break her ribs.

“Now!” They took off. Thistle beat her hooves faster than she ever had before. Trees and bushes blurred past them. Behind them and to their sides they could hear great lumbering beasts following and a haunting howl followed them.

There was a flash of green on her right and she would’ve jumped left if Woodpecker hadn’t been on that side. He shoved her back onto the path and kept them going straight, preventing them from being knocked off course.

“Don’t slow, don’t stop!” He yelled in her ear.

Tree, tree, bush, timberwolf! It was so hard to run in a straight line. She jumped over a ditch and a timberwolf nearly burst through a bush on her left. Woodpecker caught her mane and pulled her back onto the path before she could take off straight south.

Thistle tried to think but terror clouded everything. Had they really gone so far into the forest during their talk? It hadn’t felt like it. She didn’t even know where they were now. There was no time to stop and look for landmarks.

“This way!” Woodpecker called for her, turning more east than south. But there was a timberwolf there! Standing right in the middle of the path and glaring at them!

“Don’t stop, don’t slow! Jump!” She did it without thinking. She just pushed off as hard as she could. Her leap carried her over the timberwolf’s head and snapping jaw. She heard cracking wood and then a fizzling sound behind her but as soon as her hooves touched the ground again she was off. She didn’t even have time to realize Woodpecker wasn’t at her side anymore before he caught up, huffing and puffing and lacking a spear.

“Keep going!” He panted harshly.

Keep going. Don’t slow, don’t stop. Keep going. Branches whipped at their hides and in her panic she thought they were timberwolf claws. Howls and snarls followed them.

Her lungs and legs burned. Her heartbeat was faster than her hoofsteps. Any second now the pack would overrun them. Any second now and they’d be caught.

They burst from the trees without slowing a whit. Thistle barely registered the intense sunlight. She saw the village in the distance and didn’t once think of slowing until they passed Soft Touch’s hut.

She might’ve kept running until she passed the village entirely if Pine Needle hadn’t been sitting by the back of the hut.

“Healer? What?” Pine gasped. “SOFT TOUCH!”

“Pine! Who’s there!” Soft barreled out of the hut with her spear gripped in her mouth.

Thistle tried to explain. Her lungs seized and a cramp made itself known in her side. Her body was covered in froth.

“Timberwolves!” Woodpecker gasped out. “Chased us! Barely got away!”

Thistle wrenched her head back towards the forest. Two timberwolves were standing at the edge of the tree line but they hadn’t followed. Timberwolves never left the forest. At least not far. These ones watched them for a moment before fading back into the shadows. Soon, they were out of sight completely.

Groaning, she swayed. There wasn’t enough air for her lungs and her legs burned from exertion.

“Whelp, guess it’s timberwolf season.” Soft clicked her tongue. “Healer, feel free to come inside and get some water. Pine, bring a pot out for the stallion.”

“Yes, Soft Touch.” Pine went to do as ordered. Thistle let Soft nudge her inside. The hut was cool inside and she gratefully fell on the closest mat.

“Ow.” She whimpered.

“Yeah, a panicked run will do that to you.” Soft Touch nodded, patting her shoulder. “Take your time.”

They’d survived. They’d escaped the pack. That was the closest she’d ever come to dying.

Woodpecker had saved her life.