Author's Note

Tags: Masturbation and Lesbian Sex

First, You Get the Slugs

Roseluck never used an alarm clock. She was of the mind that she was predetermined to wake up when it was the appropriate time. Most days this meant she rose with the sun, shaking off the cobwebs of sleep as the night faded into day.

The cream-colored mare cracked open an eye as the sun hit her face. She squinted immediately, as was to be expected. She grumbled wordlessly and rolled over, shielding herself from the bright morning light. Normally, she would have already sprung out of bed, but the previous night had run a bit longer than intended. But, she was beholden to her creed. It was time to wake up.

Today was going to be a little rougher than usual. Both of her sisters were out of town making deliveries, which left her there alone to tend to the garden and their home. But, Roseluck did have plans to treat herself later. Assuming he was free, of course. That thought brought a small smile to her face and gave her enough energy to reach out to the nightstand and slap the top of the radio that sat there. The machine clicked on and a familiar, scratchy voice came over the air waves.

“Good morning, Ponyville. If you’re listening to this then you’re either just going to bed or, worse yet, just waking up. Either way, my condolences. Onto the weather: It’s gonna be sunny today, clear skies as far as you can see with a high of eighty-five. But, this is a music station, isn’t it? Here’s the music.”

The sun hit the rest of Roseluck’s sheet-covered body, chasing away the night chills and replacing it with delicious heat. She pushed herself up, yawning and stretching as the bed sheet fell away, revealing her nakedness. Lilly had once asked her why she slept naked instead of wearing a nightie like most ponies. And after throwing an empty takeout box at her sister and yelling for her to get out of her room, Roseluck explained that since she had silk sheets she might as well enjoy them to their fullest.

Roseluck left her bed and crossed the room to her dresser, feeling the sun’s rays on her bare back. Her window was open, allowing the warm morning breeze to flow in. And, potentially, peeping eyes. She would never admit it, but the thought that someone was watching her gave her a sort of thrill. She wiggled her rump, just in case.

She put on a wide-brimmed sun hat, adjusting it so it sat snugly on her mane. Next she pulled her favorite apron from the dresser. Granted, it was her only apron, but that still made it her favorite. She has washed it recently, making the normally dirt and pollen stained cloth white once more. For a little while, at any rate. She doubled back to her bed, grabbing the radio by the handle and bringing it with her as she made her way outside.

Her garden was just as she had left it the day before, lush and ripe. It wouldn’t be long before she could harvest the fruits, rather the the flowers, of her labor. They would make her a handsome profit, as ponies seemed to buy flowers for nearly every occasion.

Roseluck left the radio sitting on a fence post and took up her watering can. She moved up and down the rows of plants, wetting any that looked thirsty. As she reached the rose bushes, coincidentally her proudest plants, she spied something unusual amongst the thorny branches.

It was a slug. Not that a slug being in a garden was anything approaching usual, but Roseluck was fairly knowledgeable when it came to slugs and their subspecies. But never in all her years had she seen one like this before. Its body was a dull gray, but it had streaks of electric blue running along it. Some of the streaks even seemed to be inside the slug’s body, like its flesh was partially transparent.

Roseluck set her watering can aside and bent down low, getting as close to the creature as the thorns would allow. Amazingly, the mollusk seemed to have done no damage at all to the rosebush. Roseluck turned her attention to the slug, who in turn seemed to turn to face her as well. It began slithering forward, moving a bit quicker than any slug Roseluck had seen before.

She frowned and looked in her watering can, seeing it almost empty. She quickly dumped out the last of the water on another rosebush and then placed the can on its side in front of the slug. The slug stopped and pointed what Roseluck assumed was its head up at her for a moment.

“Come on little guy, get in the can,” Roseluck said softly. “I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The slug seemed to stare for a moment longer before lowering back down and moving into the can. Roseluck peered around the lip of the can, watching as the slug made its way to the bottom. Once it was there, she gingerly picked up the handle in her mouth and carried it back to her house.

She moved into her kitchen, placing the can on the table while she searched for a jar. She quickly found an empty pickle jar, suddenly remembering she was out of pickles. Making a mental note to pick up more later, she brought the jar back to the table, just in time to see the slug poking up beyond the rim of the watering can.

“Quick little guy, aren’t you?” Roseluck chuckled, twisting the lid off the jar and holding it up to the can. “Alright, if you get in here I promise I’ll get you something to eat.”

Again the slug appeared to regard her for a few moments before obligingly making its way into the jar. Roseluck watched with interest as the slug oozed into the jar and down the side, leaving a blue-tinged trail of clear slime in its wake. Once it had settled in at the bottom, she placed the jar back on the table and left it for the moment.

She trotted back to the counter, pulling a knife from the drawer and a ripe tomato from the cabinet. She returned to the table and carefully placed the fruit (or veggie?) in the jar beside the slug. She screwed the lid back on and carefully used the knife to punch several holes in the lid. Happy with her handiwork, Roseluck left the knife on the table and pulled up a chair, sitting down with her hooves resting on the table and her face in front of the jar.

“See? I’m a mare of my word, little guy,” she said to the slug, who again turned to face her. Did it have eyes? They must have been small, because she couldn’t see them. Maybe it just had really good hearing, but she couldn’t see any ears either. “Now, what to do with you? I don’t think you ate any of my flowers, but I can’t just let you roam around my garden without knowing what you do eat.”

Roseluck rubbed her chin, tilting her head and watching with interest as the slug mimicked her.

“Gosh, you’re strange. But, that does give me an idea. Wait right there while I go pack. We’re going on a trip.”

“I sure hope she’s home,” Roseluck said to herself, suddenly realizing this might not have been such a great idea.

She was in the Everfree Forest, standing before the hut of Ponyville’s resident zebra. Well, she lived in the Everfree, so she wasn’t technically a Ponyville resident, but that was neither here nor there. What was here was Roseluck, alone in the wild and untamed forest save for the slug in her saddlebag.

Roseluck raised her hoof to knock, only for the door to the hut to suddenly swing inwards and reveal its owner Zecora.

“Ah, Roseluck of many flower. What brings you to me at this hour?”

Roseluck smiled nervously and reached into her saddlebag, pulling out the slug-occupied jar. The slug raised its head and looked to Roseluck, the tomato beside it untouched.

“I found this little guy in my garden this morning and I can’t figure out what kind of slug he is. I was thinking that you might know.”

A puzzled look crossed Zecora’s features. She leaned in close and peered at the slug. The mollusk seemed to sense the zebra’s presence and turned to face her, oozing over to the other side of the jar and squishing up against the glass.

“I do not recognize this slug, I must admit,” Zecora said, shifting her gaze to Roseluck. “But, if you leave him with me, I shall search and shall not quit.”

Roseluck nodded and gently placed the jar on the ground in front of Zecora. “If it’s no trouble. I’m just worried about letting him run loose without knowing what he’s gonna do.”

“Fear not, dear Roseluck. I think with this problem I will have some luck.”

She just rhymed luck with luck. Roseluck thought to herself. Out-loud she said, “Thanks, Zecora. I’ll save some of my roses for you.”

“A generous offer, I suspect,” Zecora said with a grin. “And one on which I think I shall soon collect.”

Roseluck chuckled and bid Zecora farewell, tipping her hat to the zebra before turning around and heading home. It might have been seen as a little rude to leave so quickly, but Roseluck had things to do. And Zecora had always struck her as a mare who understood how precious time could be.

The gardener glanced up at the foliage overhead, making a guess as to the time based on what light she could spy between the leaves.

“Shoot, wasted the whole morning on that slug. Well, I guess I can still get some work done today.” She frowned as her leisurely walk became a brisk trot.

As the sun began to dip low in the sky, Zecora closed yet another book with a sigh.

She had been going through her library of books all afternoon, most of them journals both personal and not, and she had not found a single definite reference to the slug Roseluck had brought her that morning. Dejected, Zecora pushed the latest book away and shifted her gaze to the slug.

The thing had hardly moved all day. It merely sat there, its head near the wall of the jar, watching her. Zecora frowned and shifted her gaze to the tomato that had been placed in the jar, still untouched. The slug seemed unperturbed by its lack of nourishment, but Zecora couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry.

She got up from the table and trotted to her cabinet. Opening the door revealed dozens of spices and ingredients, most of them with names impossible for Equestrians to pronounce. Zecora ignored them as she pulled a simple head of cabbage out and tore off a leaf. Closing the cabinet, she made a mental note to not store her food so close to her potion ingredients as she moved back to the table.

She unscrewed the lid from the jar and carefully pulled out the tomato, replacing it with the leaf of cabbage. The slug’s head followed her as she again busied herself to her water bucket and returned with a small cup of water. She dripped the water over the leaf, letting it collect enough for the slug to drink.

Zecora sat down with another sigh, sparing the slug another look before pulling the next journal close and carefully opening it. She was a few pages in, having stumbled across a slug entry remarkably early, when a soft squishing sound reached her ear.

She turned to the jar, seeing it empty aside from the leaf. Her eyes widened in panic, tracing up the length of the jar to settle on the mouth of the container. The slug was perched there, its body pointed directly at her.

Zecora felt relief wash over her. She smiled and opened her mouth, intending to say a few reassuring words to the mollusk. The slug seized the opportunity to leap with surprising grace and strength, sailing through the air and landing directly on Zecora’s tongue.

Her jaw snapped shut automatically, sealing the slug inside. Her mind raced a million miles in an instant as her body seemed to respond in slow motion. She could feel the slug on her tongue, its slimy body slipping deeper into her mouth. It didn’t taste bad, far from it. It was almost candy-like in flavor, carrying a hint of pickles.

Zecora’s limbs flailed and she fell backwards off her seat, landing on her back with a jarring thud. The impact sent the slug hurtling to the back of her throat. She gagged, feeling it become lodged there. But the thing was slippery, and her sudden panicked gulp sent the slug sliding down her neck.

Time caught up with Zecora. She laid there on the floor of her hut, panting as she felt the warm slug settle in her stomach. Panic began to flow through her again. It was ill-advised to even touch an unknown creature, let alone swallow one. She rolled over, intending to get to her potions. She had a few to induce vomiting for just such occasions.

But, before she could even get up, the feeling of panic vanished. In its place, an overwhelming sense of warmth filled her body. Zecora gasped, her body trembling as the heat oozed from her belly to the rest of her body. She gulped as she felt wetness leak onto her thighs. It was getting hard to think, thoughts forming halfway before breaking apart under unrelenting arousal.

She raised her leg, the air suddenly feeling cold to her heated nethers. She huffed, propping herself up on one hoof as the other reached down to rub her engorged lips. Sweat broke out on her brow and her cheeks flushed red as she rubbed herself. Thoughts of strong stallions came into her head, their erect cocks bouncing against their bellies as they trotted before her. Mares trickled in as well, ripe cunts and swollen teats presented for her enjoyment. Zecora squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as the fantasy played out, hoof moving with increasing speed, until she was splashing her juices all over the floor.

No one thing in particular pushed her over the edge, merely everything piling up until it broke the metaphorical camel’s back. Her pussy gushed, soaking her hoof, her thighs, and the floor of the hut.

Zecora collapsed on her side, huffing and puffing like she had run all the way to town and back. She could feel her cooling juices in her fur, spreading in a puddle beneath her rump, but she couldn’t summon the energy to move.

Slowly, her mind cleared of its lustful haze and she remembered the slug she had swallowed minutes before. Or had it been hours? Zecora swallowed thickly and tried to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t safe for either of them for the mollusk to be in her belly.

Zecora felt something in her mind, like another presence was pressing against it. A sense of ease came with it, assuring her that both she and the slug were perfectly fine. Zecora nodded slowly, understanding that, somehow, her body wasn’t currently producing the regular acids needed to break down food.

She raised her head slightly and shook it. The slug was affecting her body. It had to be. How and why were irrelevant, she needed to-!

Zecora hissed as a sharp, pleasurable sensation went up her spine. She squirmed as the presence, the slug, put soothing feelings into her. It was clear the thing could play with her body, as it had done before. That had been one of the nicest self-made orgasms of her life, even if she wasn’t the type of mare to indulge herself so.

The slug seemed amused and Zecora couldn’t help but smile. It was strange of her to not pleasure herself. To indulge in those delightful fantasies. The slug prodded her mind, communicating with feelings in place of words, and offering her such sights she could only dream of.

All she had to do was make more ponies just like her.

The witch-doctor didn’t hesitate, didn’t even mull over the offer, instead accepting immediately. She slowly got to her hooves, muscles still shaky from her orgasm. She pondered on how exactly to do as the slug wished. After all, wasn’t the only one inside her?

Snatches of sound and smell filled her mind, a mare’s cooing voice and the scent of dirt and roses. Zecora nodded in understanding and trotted to the door.

Roseluck had promised her flowers, after all.

The moon rose into the sky as Zecora crept through the streets. She was lucky, as it seemed no living soul was out and about that night. The denizens of Ponyville were kind and caring and had long since accepted her as just another member of the community, but if they found her skulking around in the dead of night, they might jump to conclusions.

Finding her way to Roseluck’s home was surprisingly difficult. Zecora never really did come here after dark and the moon had a way of making even familiar places seem strange and alien. Nevertheless, Roseluck had decided to settle on Flower Lane, and a helpful sign pointed Zecora in the right direction.

There were no lights in the windows as Zecora approached the house. She nodded to herself and circled around the back, easily hopping the low fence into the garden. She bent low and crawled along the ground, looking under each and every plant for more of the slugs. The creature in her belly wasn’t able to give her clear directions, but she got a general sense that more of the things would be here.

At last, amid the stalks of a cluster of sunflowers, another mollusk sat waiting. It regarded her just as the first one had, with curious intelligence.

Zecora laid herself down flat, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. She realized, as she and the slug stared at one another, that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was supposed to do. She knew she had to get this slug into Roseluck, but it wasn’t as though she could simply walk up and shove it down the gardener’s throat.

The slug within her wiggled, nudging her mind towards the slug in front of her. Zecora blushed faintly and edged closer to the slug on the ground. Slowly, she reached out a hoof and scooped the slug up. It didn’t try to run from her nor escape her grasp, it merely sat there patiently. Zecora sat up, trying to steel herself for the coming task. The idea of deliberately putting the slug in her mouth wasn’t the most pleasant, even if she was familiar with the benefits.

She took a few calming breaths before opening her mouth wide and shoving the creature inside. Like the one before, the slug did not taste necessarily bad, but the texture of it on her tongue made her gag. Zecora muscled past the reflex and tipped her head back, gulping continually until her throat bulged as the creature was carried to her stomach.

Zecora shuddered and shook her head, some part of her mind rebelling against the thing she had just done, begging her to gag and heave until the things were out of her. The unpleasant feelings soon passed, smothered under an approving warmth.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, basking in the glow her slug had given her, when she was jarred from it by a bright light falling across her. Zecora flinched and squinted towards the light.

“Zecora?” the voice of Roseluck came from somewhere behind the light. She pointed her lantern to the side as to not blind the zebra. “What are you doing here?” the gardener asked with a yawn.

Zecora was quiet for a moment, trying to piece together an explanation for her behavior in such a way that wouldn’t send Roseluck screaming all the way to Canterlot. Her slug was of little help, apparently too busy conversing with its fellow inside her to provide assistance.

“Dear Roseluck, my need to see you is most urgent,” Zecora began, not fully confident in her words. “We must discuss details emergent.” Absolutely dreadful rhyming, but she was under pressure.

Roseluck was fighting back another yawn, but her head had a curious tilt to it. “Okay, come in, come in.”

Roseluck picked up her lantern and carried it back into her house, Zecora quick on her heels. They entered the kitchen, Roseluck setting the lantern aside and lighting a few candles. Zecora regarded the candles for a moment. Their arrangement implied that Roseluck might have had some romantic plans for the evening, but the lack of melted wax on the side indicated that these plans had fallen through.

Roseluck blew out the lantern and pulled up a chair, gesturing for Zecora to do the same. As the zebra sat down, she could feel the warmth in her mind increase, becoming a burning heat as it enveloped the whole of her body. Her cheeks flushed red as wetness gathered once more in her nethers.

“So,” Roseluck said, resting her head on her hoof. “What details, uh, emergent?”

Zecora might have corrected Roseluck if she was able to focus properly. She squirmed in her seat, eyes tracing Roseluck’s form. She wasn’t the prettiest mare Zecora had laid eyes on, but that didn’t stop her from being pretty. Her mane was of particular interest, a striking shade of red, magnificent even when it was still messy from its owner’s sleep.

Zecora swallowed thickly and leaned forward.

“Please forgive the lateness of the hour,” Zecora said huskily. “But I have come for you, my beautiful flower.”

Roseluck blinked, looking utterly confused for a moment before a faint blush colored her face.

“You mean you… Oh Zecora, I-I never knew you f-felt this way.” Roseluck looked away, tucking a lock of her mane behind her ear. “I mean, maybe it’s because I got stood up tonight, but… H-here, let me make something for you to eat.”

Roseluck got out of her chair, but Zecora was quick to follow suit, closing the distance between them.

“This, I’m afraid, I cannot let you do,” Zecora smiled as she cupped Roseluck’s soft face. She didn’t need and prompting or guidance from her tag-alongs for this. “For the only thing I wish to eat is you.”

Before Roseluck could say anything else, Zecora pressed their lips together. It was by no means the most romantic or erotic kiss in either of the mare’s lives, but it did quickly silence any protest. Roseluck was too stunned to properly react, quickly pulling away. She stumbled backward, blushing furiously as the amorous zebra followed her with a sensual sway of her hips.

“I’ve never s-seen you be this f-f-forward before!” Roseluck laughed nervously. “Did you accidentally drink some kind of, uh, love potion or s-something?”

“You mean to imply my affections unnatural?” Zecora gave a throaty chuckle. “My dear flower, to love you I need no assistance herbal.”

Roseluck backed her way down the hall to her bedroom door. She let out a quiet squeak when her rump hit the wood, and then a louder one as Zecora pinned her against it. The zebra leaned in, nibbling on Roseluck’s neck. The gardener gasped and squirmed, fumbling with the door handle behind her back. Roseluck fell backwards as the door opened, Zecora landing on top of her with a heavy oomph. Zecora let out a small, oddly sweet smelling burp. She blushed with embarrassment, quickly covering her mouth.

“Pardon me, Roseluck dear. That was not something I wished for you to hear.”

“Consider yourself pardoned.” Roseluck giggled, trying and failing to wiggle her way out from beneath the zebra. “Uh, I don’t suppose you could let me up? Unl-less you were planning to t-take me right here on the floor.”

Zecora’s embarrassment quickly faded, lips stretching into an evil smirk. She raised a hoof, ever so gently booping Roseluck’s nose. Roseluck inhaled, able to detect the aroma of fertile soil. Slowly, Zecora traced her hoof down the gardener's face, over her neck and chest and lower still. Roseluck let out an involuntary laugh as Zecora tickled her belly, the zebra chuckling along with her.

Roseluck’s breath caught in her throat as she felt Zecora’s hoof touch her nethers. The hoof slid down over her pussy lips, sending tingles down her spine. Up and down the hoof went, slowly but surely increasing in speed and pressure. Quiet shlicks began filling the air as Roseluck became wet under Zecora’s ministrations.

The zebra leaned down, pushing her muzzle into Roseluck’s chest, snuffling her chest floof. Roseluck gasped and squirmed, the feeling of Zecroa’s hot breath on her fur somehow just as pleasant as the hoof on her pussy. Zecora nibbled and chuckled, clearly enjoying it as much as Roseluck was. Suddenly, she pulled back her head back from Roseluck’s chest and her hoof from her nethers. Roseluck huffed as the stimulation ceased, her own hoof quickly going down to finish what Zecora has started. The zebra stopped her, pinning the hoof between them.

Before Roseluck could ask why, Zecora held a hoof in front of her face. Roseluck could still smell the soil, mixed in with the scent of her own fertile pussy. Zecora didn’t say a word, merely smiling down at Roseluck, her wishes clear. Roseluck hesitantly opened her mouth, extending her tongue to lick the sullied hoof.

Roseluck had never really tasted herself before, always cleaning both herself and any toys she had been using as soon as she was done with any private time. And the few stallions she had been with has never tried to make her ‘clean them off’ afterwards. Her breath trembled as her tongue touched Zecora’s hoof. The taste wasn’t particularly strong and only slightly tangy. Still, the subtle groan that came from Zecora’s throat at the contact spurred Roseluck further. She dragged her tongue all over the hoof, until it glistened dully in the low light.

Zecora bit her bottom lip as Roseluck cleaned her hoof. This was exactly what she had in mind when the slug first offered its deal. And Roseluck hadn’t even been given her own slug yet. Was she always this submissive? Zecora was tempted to push things further, to see how much prodding it would take before the gardener was happily eating her ass, but she could feel the slugs growing restless.

Zecora pulled her hoof away, grinning as Roseluck’s mouth followed it for a moment. She dipped the hoof back down to Roseluck’s pussy, skipping any foreplay and going straight to hard and firm hoofing. As she jilled the gardener silly, Zecora communicated to the slug, as best she could, to get ready. The sensation of it forcing its way back up her throat wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it seemed this time her slug was suppressing her body’s gag reflex.

When she felt the slug bulging her neck, Zecora doubled her efforts on Roseluck. The gardener arched her back, her mouth opening as a moan came from her throat. Zecora struck, clamping her own mouth over Roseluck’s. She stuffed her tongue into the other mare’s mouth, pinning her tongue down. The slug pushed its way out of Zecora’s throat and rapidly slid down into Roseluck’s mouth.

Roseluck’s reaction wasn’t immediate. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt the creature in her mouth, her brain trying to parse the feedback through a haze of pleasure. Zecora withdrew her tongue as the slug hit the back of Roseluck’s throat, the gardener’s eyes going wide with shock. Zecora pulled her head back and used her free hoof to force Roseluck’s mouth closed. Zecora tilted Roseluck’s head back further, massaging her throat even while Roseluck tried to understand what was happening.

There was an audible gulp and Roseluck’s small neck bulged obscenely as the slug slid down it. Zecora let out a breathy chuckle, a pleasurable pulse traveling through her brain. Roseluck gasped and gagged beneath her, rolling around like a filly with a tummy ache. Zecora never stopped rubbing the mare’s cunt, going faster and harder as she watched the slug work on Roseluck. The pulses in her own brain increased in strength and frequency, seeming to build simultaneously with Roseluck’s pleasure.

When Roseluck’s orgasm came, it was warm and wet. A proverbial fountain of mare-cum gushed up, soaking Zecora’s hoof and dripping back down onto Roseluck’s groin and the carpet below. Zecora was only a few heartbeats behind, her finish nowhere near as spectacular, but the sensations ripping through her body were wonderful all the same. Zecora’s muscles seemed to fail her, she tipped to the side and collapsed while Roseluck continued to convulse orgasmic bliss.

Zecora sucked in air, not realizing she had been holding her breath for who knew how long. Slowly, she raised her head, regarding the now still form of Roseluck beside her. For a moment, Zecora was worried the poor gardener was dead, but she soon saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Zecora tried to get to her hooves, but it seemed her body wasn’t quite ready yet.

She spoke quietly. “Roseluck, sweet and bright, are you alright?”

Roseluck didn’t reply right away, and just as Zecora was readying herself for another go at standing up, she heard a very confused gardener speak.

“What the fuck was that?”

“A necessary cruelty.” Zecora smirked, laying her head back down and breathing a little easier. Her slug passed along warm feelings. “But one that I promise that shall lead to untold booty.”

“Booty?”

Zecora coughed. “Ahem, beauty.”

A few more silent moments passed before Roseluck spoke again, her voice trembling. “Zecora, th-that… thing. W-what is it?”

“A creature I am sure you shall come to adore,” Zecora replied soothingly. “A brother to the one you brought to me before.”

“The slug!?” Roseluck cried. “I swallowed the sl-lug!?”

“Can you not feel it within you? Can you not understand its intentions true?”

Again, Roseluck did not reply right away, but her quiet sniffles could still be heard. She could feel it, both in her belly and in her mind. The presence wasn’t oppressive, but it was still palpable. Unnatural, another thing in her head, pumping calming chemicals into her blood even as her mind rebelled against it. It didn’t matter how good the thing had made her feel before, it shouldn’t be in her!

Just as Roseluck was sure she was going to faint from the overwhelming emotions inside her, she heard Zecora grunt. The zebra breathed heavily as she dragged herself beside the gardener, letting out an oomph as she laid her head beside Roseluck’s.

Zecora gently cupped Roseluck’s face, brushing away her tears. She leaned forward, booping their noses together while putting on the biggest, warmest smile Roseluck could ever remember seeing. Her breathing evened out, the presence in her mind lessening, withdrawing while putting out something akin to an apologetic feeling.

“There is still much to do,” Zecora said, locking eyes with Roseluck. “But for now, let us rest her, me and you.”

Roseluck couldn’t help but marvel at the confidence of Zecora’s stride. Most ponies she knew, even ones like Applejack and Big Mac, were at the very least cautious as they moved through the Everfree Forest. If not downright terrified.

Not Zecora. She walked with purpose and ease, like she was taking a stroll down the center of town, and not a narrow path thick with trees and monstrous creatures.

It was early. Exceedingly early. The sky to the east was growing pink with the approaching dawn, but it was still dark enough that Roseluck had brought her lantern with her. It’s normally bright light seemed diminished amongst the flora of the Everfree, like the plants around them were absorbing the light.

Just when Roseluck was about to ask where how much farther, Zecora halted. The gardener almost ran into the zebra, but stopped a hair’s breadth from her rump. Not that a faceful of zebra rump wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Zecora motioned for Roseluck to extinguish her lantern. She hesitated for a moment before complying, rather foalishly frightened of the dark. Her fear was unfounded, as when the lantern’s light vanished, the forest stepped in to replace it. The trees and vines around them were awash with blue light, glowing not unlike a rave.

Nodding silently, Zecora moved forward, Roseluck quick on her heels. They left the small path behind, delving into the brush. The glow persisted, just as calming as the slug within her.

They soon emerged into a clearing, the soil damp beneath their hooves. A lone tree stood in the middle of the clearing, its trunk like a dozen smaller trees twisted together. It’s branches snaked into the air, thick vines hanging down like so many tails. Among the roots of the tree sat a lumpy black object. Light bounced off it in a strange manner, almost like it didn’t belong.

They approached it, stopping just a few paces before it. A small head poked up from somewhere inside the object, staring at them the way a dog would. A slimy, sluggy sort of dog. More heads emerged from the hive, dozens and dozens, each mimicking their fellows. Roseluck couldn’t help but smile. There might not be enough slugs here for every pony in Ponyville.

But, as her newest and closest friend assured her, they could easily make more.