Nature's Cure

John wiped another swathe of sweat from his forehead. They could’ve at least told him it’d be this hot in the Everfree Forest, though he supposed he should’ve also blamed himself for neglecting to bring a headband of some kind. I need the money, I need the money, I need the money. He winced as he smacked his forehead into an unseen branch. Again.

“Careful.”

That voice. That God—no, Celestia damned voice. She was so bemused, so impatient, just the same as she’d been the last half-dozen times he’d tripped or run into something.

They’d been on this damned expedition for several days now. John found a smirk amidst the bullshit, dipped in cynicism. This was probably the fucking dream for a lot of guys. An enchanted forest, all female entourage, an important task that only a few were fit to undertake… it was hardly his bag.

He knew several guys who moved to Equestria with the sole intent of finding a hot, single mare and settling down with her, but he couldn’t see the appeal, especially with these four. The mare who reprimanded him like it was her job was apparently famous, or something, going by the name Daring Do. There were books about her, for fuck’s sake. The last thing he wanted was for all of Equestria to read about him portrayed as some kind of annoying poindexter sidekick. Those types were always laughed at, not laughed with.

The light-gold pony reminded him of Steve Irwin, except with a pith helmet and none of his charm or accent. Rather, the sound of her voice made him clench his fists. Maybe not her voice, but its cocky, condescending contents. None of the other mares had spoken to him much over the course of their thus-far uneventful trek through the woods. That was probably for the best.

As soon as he’d signed onto the expedition, they’d met his presence with nothing short of resentment. “Ugh, we have to bring a human along?” one with a bright-orange coat had said. She was the same colour as the leaves in autumn just before they fell from their trees. John had fought not to groan aloud when he’d learned her name was Autumn Leaf. These ponies may be magical, but they were shit at names. Suppose you didn’t have to worry about being creative when your crazy homeworld all but fulfilled that need for you.

But the pay was too good. Apparently, there was some sort of crystal that’d formed deep in the Everfree Forest called Celestite, its potential magical properties making it worth several times its weight in gold, which was precisely the type of expedition that piqued Daring Do’s interest, he’d learned. Between only himself and four ponies, his share would be considerable, so long as he could survive the Everfree Forest.

He didn’t know exactly how much the pay would be, but from what Daring had said, it would be enough to cover food, booze, and lodging for at least two years, which was too good to pass up, considering he scarcely had the funds to sustain himself for two weeks at a time. Nobody told him just how much of a bitch finding a steady job in Equestria was, but then, who had he asked? Given the raw strength of the earth ponies, the flight of the pegasi, and the telekinesis, among other magics, of the unicorns, it made sense in retrospect.

But John had something these pegasi didn’t: knowledge. Autumn Leaf fell into stride with Daring. She showed none of the signs of fatigue or wear from the journey that John did. He had no idea how she and the other ponies managed to look good, day after day, without doing anything more than taking a quick dip in a stream. Sweat and grease had bunched John’s brown hair into strands as thick as fingers that clung to his head, and grime stained his navy-blue t-shirt. Nettles had ripped and torn his blue jeans. Every time he thought about it, he wished he’d been able to afford proper clothing for a journey like this, but, then again, if he had that kind of money, then he wouldn’t need to put himself through this torture.

“So, why is he coming along again, exactly?” Autumn said.

Daring stopped to draw her machete and sever a tangle of ropy vines with three keen cuts. Holding it with her teeth. Ponies were oddly impressive, loathe to admit it or not. “Because we’re after the Celestite crystals. Don’t you think having a geologist tagging along might be at least a little useful?”

“I thought you knew a few things about, well, about that kind of stuff.”

“Yes, I do.” Daring sheathed her machete and led her team through a dense knot of oaks. “But Jimmy here studied geology for years.”

“My name’s John.”

“Whatever. John knows more crystals than us. Yeah, splitting profits isn’t that great, but you know what’d really suck? Getting absolutely nothing because we didn’t gather the Celestite properly.”

Autumn stumbled over a particularly thick root, but a quick swoosh of her wings carried her over it. “How do you fuck up gathering crystals?”

“Lots of ways,” John said, clambering over the root. He heard an annoyed snort from one of the mares behind him, but forced himself to spare her the satisfaction of a reaction. “I’ve never seen Celestite before, and neither have you. What if they’re extra hard? Brittle? What if they’re embedded in something? It’s not like you’re mining coal.”

“And you’re sure this is worth going the whole way on hoof?” another mare asked. John knew her from her scratchy voice and violet coat, but hadn’t bothered to learn her name. “This is taking so much longer than it should. We could just fly until we find the Celestite, then swoop down, pick them up, and boom, one and done, just like that.”

“I’m so sorry I can’t sprout wings and fly like you.” John couldn’t stop himself from getting testy. How could he? It’d been like this ever since they’d left Ponyville, and it’d only gotten worse from day to day. “Hell, do you know how expensive flying is on Earth? If humans could fly like you pegasi, then we’d be able to save so much money. I probably hate walking even more than you do.”

“Yeah, you hate it so much that we have to stop three more times a day,” Daring quipped.

John decided against getting into it again. At the best of times, humans didn’t have anywhere close to the same stamina as a horse, and these ponies seemed to have similar endurance to their less-evolved, less-magical cousins back home. John wasn’t fat—if anything, he’d lost a decent amount of weight since he moved; the Equestrian diet was considerably more healthy than what he was used to on Earth, and meat wasn’t readily available.

It turned out that it was a lot more difficult to justify eating a hamburger when the cows could hold a conversation with you. So, meat generally had to be imported from Earth, and the fees were several times more expensive than John could afford. Even so, he was still out of shape and had a bit of a gut, finding himself often short of breath. He supposed that was for the best, since most of the times he spoke, he found himself emptying his lungs of valuable air that he needed to traverse the Everfree. What good’s intelligence and logic if these nags only get pissed off? Too bad Equestrians didn’t develop common sense along with their speech.

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Daring had stopped moving. Ahead was a ravine, like a deep gouge in the land, at least a hundred feet wide. It stretched for kilometres to either side and looked to be quite deep. John couldn’t tell just how far it went down.

Daring sighed. “Well, this normally wouldn’t be a problem.” Her rose glance flicked to him before returning to the canyon. “At least we’ve got a quick way for him to get across.”

“And that is?” John didn’t like heights. “It’ll take a couple of hours to circumvent that. I think the right looks the safest. There’s way too many rocks going the other way, and they don’t look stable enough to support my weight.”

“We could just carry him,” Autumn said. “He’s not too fat, and there’s four of us.”

“Not like that one guy with the ponytail who’s been trying to fuck me,” the violet one said. “It’d take a dozen pegasi to lift that boulder of a human.”

John found himself backed up into a fir before he’d registered moving his legs. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Fuck that. I’m not letting you carry me over that, not in a million years. How do you even grab things with your hooves, anyway? What if you let go?”

“That’d just be so tragic,” said Autumn. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.” The others, except Daring, echoed her statement. “Sorry, John, but it’ll only take a few minutes. Nopony wants to spend hours just because you’re scared of flying.”

“Actually,” Daring said, “there’s a rotten tree over there.”

John followed her extended forehoof to an ash that looked on its last legs. He never considered himself an outdoorsy type, but even his untrained eye could tell by the mangy bark and discoloured wood that it looked like the next strong wind would fell it, and it’d have been removed already if the Everfree were tended to.

“We can easily chop it down,” Daring continued. “It should be tall enough for him to walk across.”

John’s eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me? What do I look like, some sort of circus act?”

“Yes.”

“Shut the fuck up, Autumn,” he growled. “I don’t have that type of balance.”

“Then crawl,” Daring said. John could’ve sworn there was a dry amusement beneath her words. “Having to walk the whole way sucks enough as it is. We should get this over with. I’d be down to carry him, but he’s too much of a chicken. If he thrashes and struggles as much as I think he will, then I don’t know if we can hold him. It’s either this branch, or waste the rest of the day, and I’m not spending a minute longer in this forest than I have to. This place is dangerous, and I’m not just talking about the terrain.”

Something about the finality in Daring’s voice stopped John from arguing. For once, he felt like the subordinate she treated him as. “Well, how do you propose to fell the tree, then? Did you even think about that? Even a rotting tree would need a proper tool to chop it down. Those hatchets you’ve brought for chopping firewood won’t do it, and I don’t think you’d want to risk breaking your machetes on it.”

Daring was already approaching the tree, sizing it up. “For someone so smart, you sure can be stupid. Okay, girls, let’s knock this fucker down. Doing this sucks enough already, so let’s get it right.”

The pegasi, with the exception of Violet, flew to the upper portions of the tree’s trunk, while Violet stayed near the ground. John watched them with clenched teeth and folded arms. Violet began striking the ash tree near its base, sending shards of rotten wood and bark flying with each blow from her forehooves.

“Go!” Daring yelled. At her command, she and the others sped toward the tree, hind legs first, and struck it simultaneously. The ash shuddered, but didn’t fall. They pulled back, preparing to hit it again, and Violet chipped away at the tree’s opposite side all the while.

After another three attempts, there was a loud groaning and splintering of wood, and then the tree fell. Be too short, be too short, be too short... If there was a God—or, more likely, Celestia—watching, they didn’t answer his prayers. If it were Celestia, she may as well have taken a shit in a paper bag, lit it on fire, and lobbed it at him.. The tree landed on the other side of the canyon with a great, echoing thud! and it looked like it formed a perfect bridge.

He trudged over with sullen steps through the dirt as the mares hoofbumped mid-air. How irritating.

What choice did he have now? Daring had him pegged quite well. He couldn’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t completely lose his shit if he were to be carried over such a chasm by nothing but a few pegasi. At least half of them would probably ‘accidentally’ let go halfway across.

Daring Do landed beside him and gave him a nudge. “C’mon, Johnny. We don’t have all day.” When John didn’t respond, she said, “Look, if it weren’t for how much we stand to profit from the Celestite, I wouldn’t have brought you along. This forest isn’t like the ones you’re used to wherever you came from. It’s magic, and it’s full of magical creatures—and some pretty fucking scary ones at that.”

“I know,” said John, nearing the tree-bridge. He was impressed by how well they’d managed to fell it, even if it was more of a husk than a tree—but he wasn’t about to let them know that. “If I didn’t need the money, I wouldn’t have come, either.”

When he reached the fallen log, Daring gave his ass a nudge. “Don’t go falling off on me, okay? I don’t exactly like you—”

“Really? Wow, I’d never have thought that.”

“—but I don’t want your blood on my hooves. I’m an explorer, an adventurer—not a murderer,” Daring finished, taking flight.

John felt nauseous. The gash in the land only looked deeper now that he was staring straight down it. But, left with no other choice, he went on all fours and began to crawl along the log. Immediately, he began to regret his decision. Fuck, fuck fuck! Why couldn’t we have taken the long way round? The way the log creaked made his abdomen tighten in turn until the muscles grated, and he couldn’t tell whether the sound was coming from him or the rickety platform below.

By the time he was maybe a quarter of the way along the log, the bark beneath his hand splintered, and he yelled out. Somehow, he’d managed to regain his grip before he completely lost his balance. Were the ponies saying something? He couldn’t tell. The adrenaline and terror pulsing in his brain drowned everything else out.

But he managed to think just enough to adjust his approach. Instead of climbing the log like a thick rope, he’d taken to shimmying along it. His hands were picking up splinters, and his legs probably were, too, but he ignored the pain. At least his jeans were already ruined. All that mattered was crossing the log safely. John clamped his eyes shut; looking longingly at the other side of the chasm didn’t help any. The distance was so great, his pace so slow, that it may as well have been forever.

And then there was a sickening snap.

The world was yanked out from under him as gravity stole him away. He flailed his arms, screaming so loudly he felt like he was tearing his throat out. He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that he had no chance of surviving such a fall, even if the bottom wasn’t covered in jagged rocks—which, knowing his luck, probably was.

Something smashed into his stomach. Hard. It knocked what little air remained in his lungs out in a whoosh. Dazed, he realized he’d stopped falling, and he didn’t feel any pain. What the fuck’s going on? His eyes opened. Daring and the others held onto him and grunted with labour as they carried him up toward the other side of the ravine.

John was too stunned to struggle or say anything at all. He didn’t react when they dumped him unceremoniously on the ground several feet from the edge. Flat on his back, he laid gasping for air. The sky spun as primal emotions collided with his brain. Finally, things sat still. He blinked slowly, finding Daring looking down at him.

“You all right?” she asked.

John sat up. If it hadn’t been so long since he’d last eaten, he’d have probably barfed. “No.”

“Nothing’s broken, right?”

John shook his head. “Next time, we go around. I don’t give a fuck how much longer it’ll take.”

“Hey,” Autumn said, “at least you didn’t struggle.”

Wonder if she’d struggle if he snapped her neck.

...whoa, where did that come from?

John doesn’t like heights, or Autumn. It’s established.

The ponies didn’t have time for your grouchy-bordering-maniacal thoughts. They were already pressing forwards into the tangled mass of trees ahead, their canopies so thick, they cast the terrain beneath into shadow. John forced himself to stand, stumbling as he half-ran in order to catch up. He knew they wouldn’t really leave him behind, but after nearly letting him plummet to his death, he could only trust them so much.

When he’d fallen into step with Daring, she said, “As close as that was, that was also the easiest time I’ve had working with you so far. You should get scared shitless more often.”

“Shove it up your ass,” John said. “Well, if you can find space next to the stick you’ve got buried up there already.”

“That’s such a nice way to talk to the pony who just saved your life.” Daring took off, flying a few feet above his head and peering into the gloom ahead. “After this is all said and done, I hope you take up trying to steal precious ancient artefacts and using them for evil. That way, I could kick your ass and not feel the least bit bad about it.” A glance back. “And I’ll have you know, I’d rather shove anything up my tailhole than go diving after you again.”

With fatigue from the day’s arduous trek and his near-death experience catching up with him, John decided to do nothing more than flip her off behind her back, but her words still rang in his mind, a repetitive chime. He grinned at the irony of flipping the bird to a creature that was essentially part-bird, and wondered in equal part whether she noticed where his eyes travelled the moment she said that last bit. Turns out the adrenaline of near-death heightens your libido a little.

Or maybe he was just a little grateful he wasn’t timberwolf food right now, and it was her fine patootie that saved him. John tried to shrug it off, but his shoulders ached too much. His limbs felt like lead as he trudged deeper and deeper into the Everfree.

Because of how dense it was, he had no way to tell if it was dawn or dusk, sunrise or sunset. All he could do was hope the ponies, with their seemingly limitless stamina, would decide to call it a day sooner rather than later.

Didn’t help that he—being at the back—was subject to an endless procession of mare ass as they walked. Specifically Daring’s, whose tail had a tendency to flick from side to side, though never enough to actually reveal anything. She probably realised what she was doing, too. That or badass, sarcastic, condescending explorers really didn’t care who got a glimpse of their ass shaking.

Either way, it made his walk twice as stiff as usual.

His satchel, despite being lightly packed, felt like a sack of stones on his back. Aside from a tent that was much too small for him, he’d brought little more than a bunch of salted granola bars from Sugarcube Corner, and those were already half-gone. Since they hadn’t reached their destination, wherever it was, he was reluctant to eat more of them, instead trying to restrict his meals to the berries they found nearby.

Finally, at long last, Daring declared it was time to make camp for the night. Immediately, John allowed his legs to buckle. He collapsed, too exhausted to massage his aching limbs. I fucking hope they don’t check for the sunrise, what with how thick the canopy is. Sleeping in for once would be so, so nice. It took some time for feeling to return to his legs.

It didn’t take him long to set his tent up, considering how small it was. As was usual for this trip, his dinner consisted mostly of berries. However, Daring had managed to scrounge up some mushrooms.

“Are you sure those are safe?” John asked. “I’ve read a bit about mushrooms, and I don’t know anything about these. They could make me seriously trip, or worse.”

“They’re fine.” Daring rinsed them in a nearby stream and put them in a little copper pan from her saddlebags. “Considering what I’ve had to survive on, I know how to spot the bad shrooms, and these aren’t bad.”

“Are you sure?” John eyed the fungi sceptically. They looked like shrivelled brains.

“Oh, yes, as long as they’re cooked properly,” Daring said. “See, if you cook this kind of mushroom wrong, or eat it raw, you’re as good as dead. But they’re actually delicious if you get the right sear on ‘em. I was hoping we’d find some of these; the spice I brought goes really well with them.”

John’s eyes bulged as he stared at the brain-like fungi. While Daring spoke, the other pegasi began building a fire. “Think you could try them first?”

“You don’t trust me?” Daring arched an eyebrow. “John, I saved your life. I know you’re not happy that you came along, but know that I’m not too happy that I had to bring you on the expedition, either. I thought humans had brains to make up for not having wings or magic, but you’ve just been an extra saddlebag the entire time.”

John clenched and unclenched his fists. “Yeah, we do. We have this little thing called technology that’s a result of said brains.”

“Where is it?” Daring cast a patronizing glance around them. “I don’t see anything but nature. So what you’re telling me is that your kind’s pretty useless when they don’t have access to it, huh? Are all humans like you? Do they all rely on technology so much that they’ve grown weaker and weaker without being able to use it as a crutch?”

“We’re not all like that.” John’s tone was sullen. “Some humans are great at roughing it… but I’m not.”

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

The fire began to crackle and pop behind them. Daring gave John one last eye roll before she tended to the mushrooms. They actually smelled rather appetising once Daring added the spices, manoeuvring the pot around the fire with her oddly dexterous hooves.

He still waited until everyone else had had a taste before finally throwing caution to the wind.

The flavour was unlike anything he’d experienced. It was hot enough to bring a bead of sweat to his forehead, and he thought he could taste garlic, curry, and oregano on his tongue, as well as several other flavours he couldn’t place. He found himself surprisingly full, largely thanks to the mushrooms. Somehow, he didn’t feel like death either, so that was a plus.

When John finished pegging his tent into the the Everfree’s fertile soil, he caught himself taking sidelong glances at the mares, hoping they wouldn’t notice. He’d been in their company for days now, not even having a moment of privacy, and it was beginning to grate on him more than a little. It wasn’t like he was exceptionally bothered about his privacy, or anything, but with the scene from earlier playing over in his mind, the shake of his reluctant saviour’s ass and the cut of her sass only proving to turn him on more, he began to realise that he hadn’t even had a chance to do that in days.

Before now, he hadn’t even found ponies attractive. Sure, their pastel coats made them pleasant to look at, and their hair—or manes, rather—gave them an alien though hardly unappealing aesthetic. But he’d always thought of them as cute before now, or even cute-slash-annoying, rather than sexy, and much of that cuteness had left his opinion of them after talking with Daring for more than five minutes.

Now, however, his balls were getting bluer than the Celestite crystals they were seeking, and he couldn’t help but wondering what it’d be like to peg one of the mares as he pegged his tent. Daring’s got such a tight-ass, and she knows it. She must have been teasing him earlier, there’s no way she wasn’t trying to turn him on. None.

Well, she’d succeeded. Try not to think about it too much.

He made his way to the bushes. Staying hydrated was mandatory on a journey like this, and he always made sure to drain his canteen regularly—especially when they happened upon a stream or brook.

But that meant he often had to piss like a racehorse. Fitting, considering his situation. He’d holding it for fucking ages, and it didn’t help that he had to engage in the awkward act of trying to piss with a semi, but at least he couldn’t miss the bowl in this case, considering the bowl was nature. When he’d finished and his dick was finally soft again, his steps were more of a swagger than a walk. He re-entered the camp to a hail of laughter that made him instinctively look down.

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

He’d forgotten to zip his fly back up. Or, for that matter, put his dick back in his pants. In one swift motion, so fast he surprised even himself with the sheer speed, he fixed the problem, but the damage was more than done.

“Are all humans that size?” Violet said, barely able to contain her laughter.

John stared intently at the ground as he made the short walk to his tent—all of a half-dozen paces—but the disparaging comments that rained down on him made it feel like an eternity. He could feel the heat on his face.

“My hubby’s like three times bigger than that when he’s not even hard.” He recognized that voice as Autumn’s. “This explains so, so much.”

“It’s not necessarily the size that counts,” Daring said, her tone no less mocking than the others’. “I guess humans are just built that way.”

“I guess so.”

John stopped listening to them. He retrieved the earplugs from his satchel and jammed them in his ears. Sleep couldn’t come soon enough.