Pear Harvest

Well, this is certainly better than some of the holding cells you’ve been in, but that’s not saying much.

The room is surprisingly empty, considering it’s an attic. Aren’t these places supposed to be filled with boxes and junk? There’s really nothing here save for a layer of dust, a few spiderwebs in the corner, and a small circular window set into the angled ceiling. Oh, and an old cot and some blankets that are apparently where you are sleeping for the coming days.

The climb up the fold-down ladder isn’t too difficult, if somewhat tedious. However, once you are up, you have to watch your step. Your horn is just a few centimeters from touching the ceiling; any sudden movement and you’re gonna make swiss cheese out of the wood. Not to mention you have to duck under the occasional wooden beams in order to walk around.

You ascended up here about half an hour ago, Pear Butter letting you up before telling you to get a good night’s sleep. “After all,” she said, “we’ll be getting up early tomorrow morning!”

Sleep? At this hour? Is she serious? The sun has barely even set.

Bitch be outta her damn mind.

Instead, you’ve taken time to explore your new ‘room’. Which didn’t take too long. It’s about fifteen steps across and eight steps wide. At least, the parts you could reach.

That took you a grand total of five minutes, if that.

You spent the rest of your time up to this point doing something extremely important. Namely, taking all the blankets at your disposal and draping them over the beams and nails in the ceiling, before dragging the cot underneath the curtain of fabric that makes up the new Blanket Fort of Awesomeness.

Stepping back, you eye your creation with some pride. There are enough blankets that you’ve managed to make several ‘rooms’ within the tent. By Discord’s chaotic emeralds, it feels like forever since you last made something like this! You’ve totally forgotten how entertaining it could be. Now all you need is for mom to bring you a plate of… of…

…

A dark look crosses your face, and what little enjoyment you got from the initial construction of the fort is gone. Instead, a feeling of apathetic washes over you. You slink beneath the wall of blankets and collapse upon the cot with a bitter huff. And there you stayed as the minutes ticked into hours. You watch with disinterest as the moonlight streaming through the window slowly creeps across the floor, a circle of pale blue light illuminating the dusty wood. Idly, you doodle in the dust with your hoof… waiting… listening.

Eventually, the signal you’ve been waiting for comes from downstairs―the old grandfather clock chimes once. A little while ago, you had counted out eleven bongs. It’s about time to get moving.

Slipping out from beneath the blankets, you move to the ladder and creep down it as quietly as you can. Despite no other ponies being up, the house is surprisingly noisy. The pipes groan in the walls, and you can hear the walls creaking and shifting as the foundation settles. To make matters worse, each step you take causes the floorboard beneath you to squeak loudly.

Luckily, due to past experience, you know what you need to do.

Sticking close to the wall, you slink down the hallway, trying your hardest not to wake anypony up. As you pass her room, you press an ear to the door to make sure Pear Butter is truly asleep. Upon hearing a soft snore come from the other side of the wood, you grin to yourself before moving along.

You’ve just about reached the stairs at the end of the hallway when a loud ‘click’ comes from the door on the other side of the hall from you. Eyes wide, you freeze in place. A moment later, the door swings open.

Rubbing at her eyes, a sleepy orange filly steps through the door. Eyes closed, she shambles along slowly, making her way past you. Thankfully, you are hidden in the shadows between two windows, so the moonlight can’t snitch you out. Holding your breath, your heart hammers in your chest as she shuffles by,

Unaware of your presence, she makes her way to the bathroom… which is the door only a few feet in front of you. In her sleepy daze, she doesn’t close the door all the way, and after a moment of shuffling, you hear the sound of her relieving herself. The tinkling sound continues… and continues… and continues…

…

Dear Discord, how big is this filly’s bladder?!

After what felt like an eternity, the toilet flushes and the filly reemerges. Eyes still closed, she makes her way back to her room. Just before the door closes again, you catch sight of the bed and the red blob that is located within the sheets as well.

…

She shares a bed with her brother?

Of course she does.

Bucking redneck family.

Shaking your head, you wait a moment for her to fall back to sleep before making your way down the stairs. By the moonlight streaming through the front windows, you are able to see and maneuver yourself around the furniture. Luckily, the floor is not as creaky down on this level.

Pushing open the front door, you step out onto the porch. A cool breeze tugs at your coat, and an owl hoots in the distance. The sky is filled with stars, with only a few clouds floating by. It’s a full moon too; more than enough light your way. Now, all you need to do is—

Swwwis—CRACK

You about jump out of your fur at the sudden, loud noise. Shit, you forgot about the screen door! As it jostles about after slapping shut, you stand there, a statue. Listening intently for any movement from inside.

Upon hearing none, you breathe a sigh of relief before climbing carefully down from the porch… and booking it for the edge of the farm before something else could get you caught.

~ ~ ~ ~ > > < < ~ ~ ~ ~

It doesn’t take you long to find the old windmill—once you’re clear of the trees, it sticks out quite obviously against the hills and bushes. It also probably helps that Taker, Shaker, and Breaker are all sitting around outside of it, their horns glowing softly as they hold up lanterns.

They must not sneak out all that often. A light source might make it easier for you to see, but it also makes it easier to see you.

You approach the gang from behind, slinking up through the long grass until you are practically upon them. They’re all looking down the old path, obviously expecting you to come from that direction. None of them notice your arrival until you suddenly speak up. “What are you looking at?”

All three of them jump in the air: Taker nearly dropping his lantern, Shaker letting out a shrill shriek, and Breaker tumbling backward into a bush. They all turn on you with wide eyes, and Taker holds up his lantern in order to see you better.

“Where the buck did ya come from?!” he says hoarsely.

“I walked around the edge of the treeline,” you answer as Breaker emerges from the bush again and picks up his lantern.

“Why didn’t ya use the bloody path?” Taker huffs.

You shrug. “Didn’t know about it.”

Taker gives you a dirty look before shaking his head. “Whatever,” he mutters under his breath. “Bucking scaring ponies half to death and shit. Gotta put a bell on you.”

As he’s recovering, Shaker gives you a smile, her face illuminated by her green magic and the faint light from her closed lantern. “You came!”

“Yes, I did,” you reply.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it or that you had backed out at the last minute.”

You blink. “Why would I back out? Easy job and free loot and decent-looking company.”

She giggles at this. her cheeks flushing darkly.

Taker clears his throat. “We should get going. It’s a bit of a walk to get there, and we should get this finished before somepony notices we’re missing. I’m not sure about you guys, but my parents are a pair of light sleepers.”

“I’m not worried,” Shaker says, rolling her eyes. “Once my dad’s passed out from drinking, there’s no waking him. I could scream in his face and nothing happens. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“I sleep in the attic,” you add, “so I highly doubt anypony is going to check up on me any time soon.”

“All the same, we should be quick about this,” Taker says. Breaker nods his head even though he really isn’t paying attention. Instead, he seems more fascinated with a group of Luna moths that are fluttering by overhead, attracted to the lanterns. Taker slaps him on the back of his head, snapping him out of his daze, before the smaller colt looks at you. “You ready for this, new colt?”

You give him a deadpan look. “I was doing stuff like this when you were still at your mother’s tit.”

“We’ll see,” Taker says before turning and heading off towards the forest in the distance. Shaker gives you a look over her shoulder as she follows Taker, her eyelids lowered slightly. Baker just trundles along after the pair, his lantern swinging wildly in front of him, the cover not even open.

Sighing to yourself, you cast one last glance back towards Sweet Apple Acres before joining the procession.

~ ~ ~ ~ > > < < ~ ~ ~ ~

You are starting to regret your decision.

From a distance, the forest hadn’t looked so intimidating, especially seeing as you had to walk through an apple orchard to get here. But now that you are beneath the canopy of twisting branches and crooked trees, you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.

Long willow-like branches dangle from branches and blend in with the gloom around, so you don’t know they are there until their brushing against your coat. The trees loom overhead, blocking out the sky and crowding around, their roots covering the path and making it hard to walk without twisting an ankle. A thin layer of mist choked the ground, adding to the eerie feeling.

And then there was the feeling of being watched.

Apparently you aren’t the only one with the prickling sensation the back of your neck, as Shaker is constantly turning around, her head on a swivel and her tail clamped between her legs.

“Takes, I don’t like this anymore,” she whimpers.

“Q-quit ya whining,” Taker says, although there’s a stutter in his voice. Even Baker, the largest of your group, is looking a little shaken up. He clutches his lantern close to his chest, the light muffled against his chest fur.

“But Takes,” Shaker whines, “I think there’s something out there!” As if to confirm her words, something swoops by overhead, hidden by the shadows. Shaker let out a shrill scream and crowds against you. “Help! Help me!”

“Quiet!” Taker hisses. “It was probably just a… just a bat or something.”

“It was too big for a bat,” you reply. The filly next to you shivers in fear.

“An owl, then,” Taker says, almost as if he was trying to convince himself. “This is a forest, after all. Creatures live in the forest.”

“I wanna go home,” Shaker moans.

You try and keep a cool face, but inside, you definitely agree with Shaker. This is no longer feeling like it’s going to be as easy as it first sounded.

“Come on, Shakes,” Taker says, trying to act more confident than he appears. “There’s four of us. We can handle anything in this forest. Remember, we stick together no matter what!” That seems like enough of a motivator for Shaker, but you aren’t that convinced. Still, you all move on, keeping close together even as the path grew slightly wider.

After about five minutes of walk down the winding path, you come to a fork in the road. Taker pauses, a hoof in the air as he glances down both paths, an uncertain look on his face. “Er, I think… I think it was… this way?”

“I thought you knew the way,” you say, cocking an eyebrow.

Taker looks uncertain. “I… I do. It’s just... give me a moment.

“We’re lost, aren’t we?” you huff.

“No!” Taker growls. “I know where I am. I just need a… a moment to think.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the sound of a nearby bush rustling kills the words in your throat.

“What was that?!” Shaker squeaks.

“It was n-nothing,” Taker says.

Just then, ‘nothing’ steps out of the undergrowth.

“Oh buck me…” you breathe, your eyes wide.

Three wolves—made completely out of wood and green glowing sap—stalk forward, their eyes locked on the four of you. The one in the middle growls softly, the other two slinking off to the side in a pincer maneuver.

Trying to keep them all in your sight, you whisper out of the corner of your mouth. “What the buck are those?!”

“T-t-timberwolves,” Shaker whimpers.

You take a step back. “So, what should we do?”

The others are silent for a moment before one of the wolves suddenly leaps forward, it’s teeth gnashing together.

“GAH!!!”

As one, all three turn and race back down the path, dropping their lanterns along the way… and leaving you all alone. Before you have time to curse, the three wolves descend upon you. With a scream, you turn tail and run too, racing back down the path.

Branches and leaves whip at your face as you run, leaving behind long scratches on your cheeks and muzzle. Behind you, you can hear the wolves barreling along the path as well, snapping twigs and breaking branches. They’re baying loudly, their barks reverberating eerily through the forest. You aren’t sure how close they are, but you’d swear you can feel their panting breath on your flank.

You don’t look around.

You just run faster.

Turning a bend in the path, you expect to see the other three off in the distance. Instead, much to your dismay, you just see darkness. Where the buck did they get to?!

“So much for sticking together no matter what,” you grunt. Running along, you jump over a fallen log, only to scream in pain as one of your back hooves gets snagged on a root. Unable to recover in time, you tumble to the ground in a cloud of dust.

Groaning, you sit up and rub your head. Before you can fully recover though, the wolves bound over the log as well. They land and immediately turn to face you, teeth glinting in the gloom. Slowly, they stalk forward, well aware that their pray is trapped.

“Oh buck, oh buck, oh buck buck buck,” you mutter, scooting back until you are pressed up against the rotten log. Is… is this really how it ends? With your heart pounding in your chest and fear coursing through your veins, you can only watch with wide eyes as the wolves draw ever closer, their fangs dripping with a thick, amber liquid.

This is it…

This is how you die…

Well, at least the Canterlot Guards will be pleased, as will… dad

…

The foremost wolf is practically upon you now, and you can smell the musty, odor wafting off of it. It smells like rotten wood and death. It crouches down, preparing to pounce. In a few seconds, its teeth will find your flesh, and that will be all she wrote. The wolf’s tail flicks once and then…

“Get away from him!”

A blur of orange comes thundering down the path, slamming into the wolves from behind and sending them clattering across the path. Before they can stand back up, Pear Butter whips around and deals a devasting kick to one of the wolves’ head. It explodes in a shower of splinters and sap, the glowing goop clinging to Pear’s hindleg as she wheels about on another one.

Having had time to recover, the second wolf is in the process of trying to dodge. It takes the kick to the chest, and with a loud ‘crack’, its ribs cave in and it goes tumbling off into the underbrush with a howling whine.

By Discord’s infinite stones, how strong are this mare’s legs?!

Both hind legs now thoroughly soaked with wolf blood, Pear Butter turns to the last wolf. It takes a step back, a soft whimper escaping it as its ears splay back. It shoots you a quick glance, but balks when Pear takes a step towards it.

“Don’t even think about it,” she growls, her eyes narrowing.

The wolf holds its ground for a moment before, it turns and bolts into the darkness, its tail firmly between its legs.

As silence falls over the forest again, you sit there against the rotten log, staring at Pear Butter with large eyes. She’s breathing heavily and both her hind legs were covered in glowing green blood from the thigh down. Her ears are perked, swiveling about as she listens for any sign of the wolves returning.

Your heart rate slowly returns to normal, and you stagger to your hooves. You can’t believe. She actually saved you. Somehow, she found you in the dark woods and saved your sorry flank from getting eaten. Looks like some higher being is looking out for you. Thank you, Discord, you glorious bastard. By the Blessed Chaos, you don’t care what’s in store for you, you’ll definitely take any punishment Pear Butter will have for you over dealing with those wolves.

A smile touches your lips… only for it to vanish the moment Pear Butter turns to face you. One glance at the look on her face, and you quickly come to a realization.

You should have picked the wolves.