Author's Note
This Will Eventually Connect To The MLP Universe, I Promise
Gaurd The Bridge
Waddle Dee knew it wouldn't be long before he collapsed, unconscious.
He leaned heavily on his spear, his arm going numb as the butt of his weapon dug into the underside of his orange appendage, the tip shallowly submerged in the cracked dirt, bellow. The sun beat down on Waddle Dee's back without mercy, the sky barren of but a single cloud to protect the solider from the thick layer of heat that not even the strongest winds would be able to cut through. Sweat trickled down Waddle Dee's back and seeped into the deep blue bandana that had been abandoned at his yellow feet at the ground. The protection it had provided had not been worth the torridity of the beams it had sealed to the top of Waddle Dee's head. His body felt weak and clumsy as he stood, and the creature's body shook with fever.
Guard the bridge, Waddle Dee thought to himself, even his own imagined voice a frail mumble. Kirby's coming, guard the bridge . . . His spear slipped from his slick body and he stumbled forward. Unprepared, Waddle Dee fell to the ground, his spear forced easily from the earth to land beside him. Waddle Dee's unfocused eyes looked past the water running past his face.
He had, of course, already drank from the channel, but without food to accompany the crystal clear liquid, his stomach had retched it mere minutes later. Waddle Dee had yet to find an amount that did him any good without making him sick.
Waddle Dee struggled to his feet for the fourth time that day, wiping tears from his eyes. He couldn't afford to lose any more fluids. He planted his spear back into the ground, deepening it as much as he could, which wasn't a lot, at his strength, and checked the perimeter once again. Not much had changed. He could see nothing approaching from neither the path nor the forest, and the collection of boulders to his far left remained undisturbed. Waddle Dee had looked behind him only a few times, knowing that the pink monster he was dreading would come from his front. The powerful beast had no need for stealth. Even so, in his heat induced state of fatigue, he found himself casting a glance over his shoulder.
Something caught his eye.
It was a blurry collection of red and green in the distance, and oddly enough, elevated. Waddle Dee squinted. Sharper lines struggled to break through to him. They flashed in and out of sight like stars twinkling in the sky, not unlike the ones that had already begun to form at the edges of the soldier's vision. Could it be? No, no, surely it was a mirage; yet, unknown forces somehow drew Waddle Dee towards it. He picked up his bandana and trudged slowly, painfully, to his mysterious destination. His muscles screamed in protest but could not stop moving, like wheels wearing away into nothingness as they tried to stop on a frigid, frozen road. At last, after an eternity, the object finally took shape.
An apple tree! It was strong and healthy and perfect and it was right in front of him! . . . And yet the life sustaining fruits Waddle Dee so desperately needed were resting on branches far taller than he. The scorch of the land had begun to melt the gears that were trying to generate any form of conscious thought from inside of Waddle Dee's head, causing them to stick and then tear away painfully, a process that lasted much longer than what Waddle Dee should have been able to handle. He couldn't think of a plan. He couldn't think of a concept. He could only conjure a single word on which he was betting his life: climb.
He raised his two arms, with one still clutching his spear, and remained there for some time, having forgotten the weak signal of a command that had managed to reach them only moments before. Finally, Waddle Dee leaned forward, his stubby hands slapping against the trunk of the tree. They stung for a moment before fumbling for a hold. Waddle Dee eventually found a small knot protruding from the wood. It was only big enough to support one of hands, but this didn't matter. Having only his deepest instincts and core functions intact, such as blinking and breathing, he found himself unable to let go of his spear.
Waddle Dee could clearly remember being beaten vigorously by soldiers of the highest ranks for having dropped his spear while training, where he was forced to twirl it above his head for an entire hour, but one exercise in his King's required lessons. One time, Dedede himself had come to punish him, as it was Waddle Dee's fifth omission. His body still ached terribly when his weapon so much as shifted in position, but it had been worth his standing position from before. Now, having found a drop of hope, with adrenaline pumping through his orange body, he held on tight to the carved structure, able to remain balanced, temporarily, on his own.
Waddle Dee's feet dug into the tree, scrambling for another point of support before his limb gave out. Eventually, each found a crevice between pieces of bark, and Waddle Dee hoisted himself upwards. His whole body shivering intensely at this point, Waddle Dee stiffened when a wave of black obscured his vision. It remained for a horrifying instant before clearing away from the center, outwards. Waddle Dee inhaled sharply when he noticed that the phenomenon had stopped moving before he could see properly once more, and it showed no signs of continuing.
Thoroughly panicked, Waddle Dee took another a few more quick steps upwards in a fight against his own agony and raised his spear. Perhaps he could knock the branch hard enough to loosen a younger apple from its slightly thinner stem. It would be bitter, but it just might save his life. Time was running out, and Waddle Dee could feel his body giving up. He raised his arm and put his last breath of energy into forcing his weapon forward. A wave of vibration traveled down Waddle Dee's spear. It traveled through his entire body. One of his feet came lose from its wedged position as it quaked, while the bark bellow the other crumbled away. Waddle Dee's arm buckled, unable to support his body weight on the knot without auxiliary help. He fell.
His ears, and whole body, had stopped responding by the time the sound of his head cracking against the ground could reach them.
