Camp Morning Glory was all abustle with activity. Fillies and colts stirred from bunks in cabins, roused by the ringing sound of the morning bell. Some were already up, starting the day playing with their friends, or helping in the kitchen. Every foal, in turn, shuffled toward the mess hall and gathered around long tables, the pleasant aroma of food awakening their senses.
Ilse, for her part, did not look like a morning pony. She settled into her seat and groggily slumped against the table, eyelids scantly remaining open. She missed her warm bed and her teddy bear. Back home, her mother would never wake her so rudely.
Her best friend Luftkrieg took her usual seat across from her, bright and ready for the day. Her eyes were alight with excitement, and she was frustratingly alert. Already, Luftie was chatting aloud, something or other about what she’d talked about with the kitchen staff that morning when she’d helped wash the vegetables.
“... And then Miss Rosedust said I was a great helper. Maybe I could come back and be a Camp Counsellor when I’m too old to be a Camper, huh? What do you think?” She leaned in excitedly, eyes fixed on Ilse, who didn’t respond, her eyes clouding over and eyelids drooping. “... Ilse? ILSE!”
“Huh? What?” Ilse was startled awake with an abrupt jolt, eyes opening to the figure of Luftkrieg standing over her, leaning across the table. “Whassat for?”
“You were asleep, silly. I was waking you up.”
“Maybe I wanted to be asleep,” Ilse mumbled. Luftkrieg was about to retort something smart, but her attention was focused instead on the bowl of oatmeal, fruit, and cream that was promptly placed in front of her. Ilse, too, suddenly snapped awake at the offering. No further words needed to be spoken, and like every other pony in the room, they dug in hungrily, wolfing down the tasty treat.
“An’ anyway, there’s a pretty good chance it’s gonna be our turn next.” Luftkrieg beamed wide through her mouthful, “for the test, I mean. I have it on good authority.”
This seemed to catch Ilse’s attention immediately. She let her spoon fall against the side of her bowl with a clang.
“You mean... the Wilderness Survival Test?” Ilse asked in shock.
“Yup.” Luftkrieg nodded solemnly, a gleam in her eyes. That filly always had a way of getting what she wanted. No doubt, she’d used those many hours of helping in the kitchen in the morning to score her enough brownie points with the counsellors to let her take it early.
“But Luuuuftie. We’re barely ready! I still need to brush up on my first aid, a-and I’m not a strong swimmer! What if we get lost? Can you even read the stars?”
“Relaaaaax.” the filly waved a hoof dismissively, holding back a snicker, “We got this. We’ll have a compass, I know where the North Star is, and unless you trip on a branch or something, nopony is getting hurt. Besides, you know they’ll be watching us. Nothing bad can happen.”
This seemed to calm Ilse enough from her hyperventilation, but she still looked worried. Casting her friend a cursory glance, she went back to her oatmeal.
Whatever Luftie was saying next was drowned out by the noise of the room around them, the thrum of voices echoing around the spacious hall. Dishes clanging, chairs scraping along the floor, and the various noises of the kitchen filled their ears. Luftie had finished wolfing down her oatmeal in record time and went to slam back her orange juice while Ilse, taking a slower and more methodical approach, was still munching away thoughtfully at her bowl.
Just when the sounds around her started to dull, and Ilse felt the pull of sleep once again, there came the dinging of a small bell. A tall, lithe pony of small stature and a voice twice his size stood up over the rows of tables, looking out over the dozens of little faces that peered up at him expectantly.
“Attention, attention!” he called out, ringing the bell one last time to silence a group in the corner who were still engrossed in conversation, “Quiet, please!”
He began to read off the usual morning list of announcements, reminding everypony of their duty to clean up after themselves, to thank the kitchen staff and helpers for preparing their meal, and listing of the day’s activities. Everypony listened with rapidly dwindling attention before a few had gone back to the remains of their breakfast.
“Now, as a reminder, do not under any circumstance leave the camp property, especially the northern forests, as they are quite dangerous, and no swimming without supervision!” Every foal in the room collectively rolled their eyes, having been reminded every day of that same warning.
“... and lastly, without further adieu, we have our Camp Morning Glory Wilderness Survival Experts from yesterday, who passed with flying colours! Gusty, Willow, why don’t you take a stand?” Two little foals stood up from their chairs, proudly displaying little purple flowers that had been attached to a necklace around their necks, the symbol of ponies who passed the survival test.
Luftkrieg, who had been watching attentively the entire time, broke her gaze to turn and look at Ilse on the other side of the table with a wide grin.
“Here goes!” She hissed, bubbling with anticipation. Ilse felt the opposite, a feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.
“So that leaves us with the two ponies who will be facing their Wilderness Survival tests today.” He paused, looking around the row of faces once more, before pulling a card out from the table beside him with notes scrawled across. “Luftkrieg and Ilse, looks like you’ll be the lucky ponies!”
There were a few sighs of relief echoed around the room, some groans of disappointment, but over everything else, was Luftkrieg giving a big shout.
“YES!”
Ilse and Luftie clambered off a small wooden canoe, taking their first hoofsteps onto new territory. Turf that was theirs to explore and adventure. Their guardian, a tall, overeager and chatty pegasus, had filled their ears with cautionary tales, what places to avoid, and advice to follow. Luftkrieg clung to every word; Ilse for her part, too, listened to what she could, taking mental notes of what to do in the face of danger.
“Now remember kiddos. I’ll be right up there in the sky checking on you as often as I can. You’ll see my flying overhead, or I’ll be on a cloud. If you’re in trouble, all you have to do is shout. There’s no shame in trying again next year.” He reached out and scruffed both of their manes in a friendly manner before pulling their little boat onto the shore and anchoring it down.
Luftkrieg took the opportunity to plop herself down just above the bank, emptying the contents of the saddlebag they’d been given as their only supplies and took inventory.
“Let’s see... compass, check. Pocket knife, check. Twine, check. Bandages and first aid... Ilse, you got those?” She turned to the other filly, expecting her to be doing the same, but instead, she was gazing timidly at the row of tall trees on the other side of the lake. “Ilse, are you even listening?”
“Sorry, Luftie,” she apologized, and meant it, “I’ve just never been this far before. While we’ve been at camp, I mean. It’s kinda scary.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” dismissed Luftkrieg, tapping her hoof impatiently, “So the first aid stuff? Do you have it or not?”
Ilse, finally getting the hint, dropped her bags and rifled through them rather sheepishly. She wasn’t normally one to be timid or afraid, but something about being left alone for a whole day and a whole night was terrifying to her.
“Yeah, I got ‘em.” She pulled out a little white box. “And some rations, and toothpaste. I wish I had my teddy with me.” She frowned. “Why’d they give us toothpaste, anyhow?”
“Beats me. Good dental hygiene, I guess.”
The pegasus had finished his work and was starting to do some pre-flight stretches, limbering himself up for the long hours in the sky. It was already almost midday, the sun reaching its highest peak and casting long shadows under the canopy of trees. Taking a cursory glance at the sky, he cleared his throat, getting the attention of both foals.
“Well, girls, it’s about that time. You go on ahead. Remember, avoid the water’s edge. Go as far in as you can and make a new campsite, don’t use an old one you find. The test ends this time tomorrow. Good luck!”
With that, Luftie scrambled to put her supplies back into her bag, packing them in half as neat as they’d been put in before, and scrambled off into the brush. It was all Ilse could do to keep up, running after her. Her saddlebags were not as tight as they should have been, and the heavy satchels bounced against her sides, rubbing uncomfortably against her wings.
Luftie seemed impatient to make good distance on their starting point to find someplace to make camp and was rushing over partially worn trails, avoiding fallen branches and thick roots that nearly caused Ilse to trip. The island was at least a few miles long and just as wide, so there was plenty of space. Why did they have to go so deep?
“L-Luftie!” Ilse panted, hobbling up to her side, looking all the more worse for wear. “C-can we... puff take a breather somewhere?”
“No can do, filly. We’re making good time!”
“Where are we even going?” Ilse struggled to keep up, sweat forming on her forehead and dampening her fur. Luftkrieg turned to look at her mid-trot, a glint of determination in her eyes.
“To the middle.”
“Why? What’s there?” Ilse looked frightened. Her saddlebags kept rubbing against her wings and she winced. They clearly weren’t meant for pegasus ponies.
“Because that’s where only the best and coolest Survival Experts go, Ilse. I heard there’s stuff buried there. Like a time capsule, ‘cept we gotta leave something if we take something. Imagine the neat stuff that might be there? Counsellor Marigold told me that she went there when she was a filly, and they--”
Luftkrieg’s energetic rant was cut short by the outcry of her best friend, who’d caught her hoof in a root, and promptly tumbled head-over-hoof into the ground. Her saddlebags came loose, and its contents were spilled out around her. Overwhelmed, she struggled to hold back tears, sniffling and rubbing her eyes.
“Oh my gosh, Ilse, you gotta watch where you’re going!” Luftie was right up by her side, quickly scooping up her dropped items and shoving them back into the bags unceremoniously.
“B-but...” Ilse began, still blubbering a little from her fall.
“It’s okay, though. We’re still making good time. If we hurry we can still get there before dark.
“Luftie, I--”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Ilse! But we better hurry!
“I—Oh, okay.” Defeated, and a little hurt, Ilse picked herself up off the ground with a helpful hoof from the other filly. She took her time putting the uncomfortable bags back on, dusting off the dirt from her fur, though it matted in places that wouldn’t come out until a proper bath. Luftie, quickly growing impatient, scooped the bags up under her head and plopped them down on Ilse’s back, who winced as Luftie tightened the strap too tight and turned around, scampering back up the hill with only a murmur of sympathy.
“C’mon, Ilse, let’s go!”
“I’m coming...” The dejected filly responded.
It didn’t take long to encounter a similar problem with the saddlebags. They were much tighter than before, too tight that the glaring problem with the lack of compatibility with her pegasus wings became much more apparent as they dug in almost painfully. She shuffled and squirmed her feathered limbs, but it was no use. Luftie had trudged a little way up the path, picking up her speed in an attempt to encourage Ilse to do the same, but she just didn’t have the same enthusiasm.
“Luftie, we gotta stop, these saddlebags are--”
“We can’t do that, there’s no time! If we take any more breaks we won’t make it.” Luftie gave her a sharp glare, turned back to the trail, and scampered once more up ahead. Ilse was about to protest, but Luftie had rushed away so quickly there was no use. She shut her muzzle and held her tongue instead.
They’d finally reached a clearing and had the first good look at the sun in what felt like an hour or two. It was lower than before, surely, but not nearly as late in the day as Luftie had made it out to be.
Ilse’s hoof had started to ache where she’d tripped a little while ago, and the more she put her weight on it, the more it stung. She was struggling more and more to keep up with the never-ending source of energy that Luftie seemed to have.
For her part, Luftie had a fire in her heart and ambition in her eyes. Running at a near gallop, her hooves were true and steady. She had to make it to the middle, had to find the buried treasure that was there. It was all she’d been thinking about since setting foot on the island, pushing all else out of her mind. She would probably be the first pony in a generation to reach it, by the way that the counsellors talked about it. Nothing else mattered and little else was important; not even...
There came the sound of ruffling leaves, a terrified shout, the rustle of heavy bags and their contents crashing down. Luftkrieg stopped dead in her tracks, and when she turned around she was almost afraid to open her eyes.
There was Ilse, crumpled in the dirt and muck, her once pristine white fur caked in mud, her hooves splayed out in different directions; she’d tripped again
“LUFTIIIIE!” Ilse cried out, suddenly popping back up to her hooves. She put her weight down on her sore hoof and immediately winced. Taking off her saddlebags, she threw them down into the leaves and mud and screamed again. “LUFTIE! Why! Why me? Why do you hate me? I keep trying to tell you but you won’t LISTEN! My hoof hurts, and these bags are heavy, and they hurt my wings, and I’m tired! I just can’t do it! I’m tired of this stupid island and this stupid test! I don’t wanna go to the middle anymore, this isn’t fun!”
Luftie hung her head and wore her face full of hurt and defeat. She trotted back over to her friend and settled herself down, a little bit away from the mud on the trail—how had she even walked past it without seeing it?—and into the grass beside it.
“Ilse... I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have...” It was Luftie’s turn to hold back tears, sniffling pathetically.
“I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to yell,” whimpered the other filly, frowning. “I hate mud. It gets in my fur and stains forever.”
“I know, Ilse,” nodded Luftie. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t listening to you when you tried to tell me you were having trouble.”
Finally settling down in the grass next to the other filly, Ilse sighed with relief. It felt good to finally rest her aching hooves for once; to finally take off those saddlebags and stretch her wings, slowly drawing them in and out from her body.
“It’s okay,” Ilse sounded much calmer, “Wanna hug it out and make it better?”
“Definitely.”
The fillies leaned into each other and embraced like old friends, squeezing around each other’s neck. They giggled along at nothing in particular, and suddenly everything was right with the world again.
“I’m sorry we can’t make it to the middle of the island, Luftie.” Ilse withdrew first, rubbing her eyes. She’d gotten a little teary-eyed for a moment.
“Don’t worry about it. It was dumb anyway.” Luftie waved it off. That ambition already felt like so long ago. Her friend was more important, how could she forget that?
“But we still have a test to finish, right? I know just the place.” Luftie rose back to her hooves.
“You do?” Ilse followed, eyeing those nasty saddlebags bitterly. Her hoof was still a little sore. She dreaded heading back out again.
“Yup. That clearing we just passed back there! It doesn’t look like anypony has been there for a long time, and there were lots of downed branches for firewood. I think we can make good use of it. Think you can carry your stuff that far?”
Ilse had nearly forgotten her saddlebags. She’d thrown them off in her fit of anger. Every inch of surface area was caked in mud. She collected the scattered items, scooped up her saddlebags mournfully, and winced as they squished against her back. Luftie helped her tighten the straps, and this time she was much more careful. They were neither too tight or too loose, and that was some respite, however, they still pressed in against her wings uncomfortably.
“I guess.” She squirmed, more mud pressing into her fur. “I’m gonna need the biggest bath ever when we get back.”
“Me, too, but not as much as you.” Both fillies shared a giggling laugh as they trudged back the way they came, at a much slower pace. Luftie was careful to stick to her friend’s side. “Maybe the counsellors will let us take a bath together? That would be nice.”
“That does sound nice, but I don’t think the basins are big enough.” Ilse laughed, imagining the two of them squished up together in the large wash buckets, chest to chest, trying to wash the mud off but only getting it everywhere. It sounded like a silly idea, indeed.
“True, but I could help you with your mane. It’s the least I could do.”
The idea of that seemed to warm Ilse up considerably, and she smiled at her friend.
“That sounds really good. I’d like that.”
The pair fell silent as they continued to walk side by side. By the time they’d made it back up the way they came, a short hike by any standards, the sun was noticeably lower, if not by much. The shade in the clearing had moved, leaving even larger spots of cool air under a number of oak trees. The pair found a place that seemed like it was the biggest patch and dropped their bags. While Luftkrieg had taken to gathering sticks and twigs to make a fire, Ilse was rolling on her back in the cool grass, getting most of the large bits of mud out of her fur and hooves.
“Heehee, that looks fun.” Luftie laughed.
“Not as fun as taking a bath would be, but it’ll do.” The other filly flipped back onto her hooves and stood. Her hoof was feeling better, but it still provided some ache when she leaned on it too much.
“Hoof still hurting?” Luftie started piling up some rocks in a circle for their makeshift firepit.
“Only a little. I don’t think it’s sprained.”
Luftkrieg giggled suddenly, earning a sharp look from her friend.
“Sorry, Ilse. I just remembered what I said earlier. ‘Unless you trip on a branch, nopony is getting hurt’, and you totally did.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have if not for you rushing me. But I guess it’s a little funny.” Both fillies laughed together, falling back into the grass.
They finished their little camp, consisting of a modest firepit and a lean-to with a couple of sleeping bags pushed up against each other when the sun had fallen to rest just above the horizon. Ilse had returned with some sticks and branches for firewood, while Luftie stoked the flames.
“I found some berries and stuff to eat.” Ilse dropped her little bundle that had been stashed in the bags. They’d both agreed at some point to exclusively use the bags provided to Luftkrieg; after having tried on Ilse’s, the other filly agreed that they were definitely of an ill fit.
“Oh, yum! You’re sure they’re good to eat?”
“Yep! I checked the guide and everything.” Ilse settled in next to Luftkrieg, offering a little pouch full of berries to her. She stifled a yawn. “I know it’s still early, but I kinda wanna take a nap.”
“You’re not hungry?”
“I had my fill of berries when I was picking them. Besides, I’m worn out after all that running and tumbling.” Ilse rose and stretched back, raising her rump in the air in an arch and stretching her wings while Luftie watched appreciatively, taking in an eyeful of her figure.
Ilse had already started making her way to their shabby little shelter that would protect them from rain and wind but little else, when Luftie jumped to her hooves, shoved a hoof-full of berries into her mouth, and went after her.
“Wait, I’m coming!”
“You sure? You don’t have to,” Ilse giggled, “I think I’ll be okay on my own. At least until it gets cold.”
Luftie wasn’t so easily talked down when she had one of her ideas in her head.
“No, Ilse, I’m a bit tired, too!” She nudged Ilse impatiently under the shelter, crouching down after her. Once they were underneath, Ilse gave her a weird look.
“Shhh. He can’t see us down here.” Luftie tilted her muzzle to the sky, and Ilse didn’t need any further hint to know who she was talking about. Luftie’s tone had changed immediately once they were in their little nest beside two poplar trees, for which their bundle of small logs and fresh branches were leaned against.
“What gives?” Ilse was already settling into her sleeping bags. Luftie had been acting strange all day!
“Well, it’s just that I was thinking I kinda owed you for how I was earlier. You hurt your hoof, got all dirty, and your wings are sore. Soooo...” Luftie rolled her hoof, a sly grin on her face, “Since we’re alone, maybe some ‘special kisses’ would make you feel better?”
“O-oh.” Ilse’s face turned red as she looked down and to the side, “That’s what you meant.”
“We don’t have to if him being up there makes you nerv-”
“Yes, Luftie.” The other filly giggled shyly, putting a hoof on Luftie’s muzzle to silence her, “I’d really, really like that.”
Without another word needing to be spoken, Luftie, wearing a huge grin, moved in close and pressed her lips right on her friend’s muzzle in a quick, affectionate kiss. It was a kiss full of deep, caring affection, a brand of love that neither really understood; adoration for each other seeping in every precious second. It broke quickly and quietly, leaving Ilse panting, and Luftie brimming with anticipation.
Luftie moved a confident hoof to the other girl’s chest and guided her down onto her back. Ilse’s tail instinctively coiled between her legs, but as Luftie kissed her tummy and made her giggle, it slowly drew itself away. Through all her timidness, Ilse clung to Luftie, ready and hungry for what was to come, comforted by her friend’s infectious confidence.
Luftkrieg’s muzzle made its way down between Ilse’s legs, hooves prying her hindquarters apart, opening them up to reveal her delicious, already lightly glistening honeypot. Unable to resist Luftie dipped her head in and took a testing lick. It was like a spark that jolted through Ilse’s whole body, and the filly quivered.
Emboldened by the reactions she was able to elicit so easily, Luftie dove back into the source of her sweet and tangy nectar and pressed her tongue between her already slippery labia, squirming her wet little tongue all around the tight canal. Ilse squeaked as she tried to muffle herself with a mouthful of sleeping bag. She was looking down at Luftie with soft eyes. Luftie stuck her tongue right up to the roof of Ilse’s tunnel just to get a reaction—predictably, the filly arched her back and groaned again.
Ilse’s eyes drifted shut and she ran a shaky hoof through Luftie’s mane as more tongue rolled out into her squeezing, convulsing, dripping fillyhood. Luftie had gotten good at this, knowing the places that Ilse loved, and the ones that were incredibly sensitive. She hit all of them, writhing her tongue around wildly and unpredictably to keep her guessing and it drove Ilse wild.
Panting for breath Ilse let out a long, drawn-out moan. She freed her mouth long enough to whisper through bated breath.
“Luuuuuftie. Gooosh, I feel like I'm gonna burst!”
Luftkrieg answered by tilting her muzzle up, wrapping her tongue around that rapidly winking button, and suckled on it with everything she had. Ilse screamed out before she had a chance to cover her mouth and the sound echoed around the clearing and into the sky. Luftie was sure their Counsellor overhead would hear but was past the point of caring about anything other than her delicious filly.
Ilse erupted like a volcano waiting to explode, her body shaking, hooves kicking and writhing about. Her button winked faster than before, throbbing and clenching with all it’s might around Luftie’s poor muzzle and tongue. Her face was covered in a spattering of filly cum, burst after burst coating her chin and nose. Luftie didn’t stop, doing her best to lap up every last drop, drawing out everything that Ilse had to give.
Seconds later, when her voice died down and her body stopped shaking quite so much, Ilse went limp against the sheets. Luftie finished cleaning up her friend with practised efficiency, making sure to clean everywhere; her outer lips, her thighs, her pert little tailhole and dock, even her two perky little nipples for good measure.
Luftie pulled away, wiping a forehoof across her muzzle and licking her lips.
“Gosh, Ilse. You really needed that. You must have been really pent up!”
Ilse only nodded, still exhausted.
“Still wanna take a nap, oooor...” She smiled eagerly, leaning back and spreading her legs, hoping for some repayment.”
Ilse was about to respond when a familiar voice echoed from outside. Both fillies froze.
“You girls okay?” It was the stallion, the pony watching them from above! He must have heard Ilse’s screams! Both fillies looked at each other in panic. Ilse was dripping with sweat, her fur and mane matted, and Luftie’s muzzle was sticky and damp. The signs of their transgressions were blatantly obvious.
“Uh, yep! Just girl stuff!”
“Uh-huh! What Luftie said!” Ilse pushed past her exhaustion, forehooves propping herself up.
“Okie dokie! Don’t be afraid to ask for help!” There was the sound of beating wings, and the pegasus was gone as soon as he’d arrived, leaving both fillies to sigh with relief.
“That was too close.” Luftie breathed out. When she looked back, Ilse had risen to her hooves, moving by her side with a mischievous grin.
“Sooo, what was it you wanted?” Ilse looked like she was back to her full senses, the close call bringing her out of her sleepy state. Luftie was right, there would be time for naps later. They hadn’t this kind of privacy back at the camp with all the other campers around.
Grinning like an idiot, Luftie pushed her onto her back again and climbed on top of her. Belly to belly, forehooves pressed together, she lowered her bottom until her own filly lips kissed Ilse’s damp ones. Both fillies shivered. Luftie started to rock her hips.
“Oooh, I like that,” Ilse cooed, closing her eyes with a smile.
Luftie was starting to pant, from both the exertion of the task and the tingly feelings running through her body. Her own clit winked, aided by the sheer eroticism of seeing her special friend cum just moments before. It throbbed and bumped against Ilse’s slippery cunny and she was unable to hold back a moan.
“Nnng.” Luftie moaned out, clenching her eyes shut. She was caught off guard by another tender, inexperienced kiss.
They shared in their affection with each other, tongues slipping between slightly-open lips to mingle and toy with each other while their hips ground and rubbed against each other. Both fillies were readily winking and leaking a clear, sticky liquid that pooled around Ilse’s tail. They both panted in unison, Luftie’s hips moved faster and harder: faster as she ground and ground and rubbed against Ilse urgently, as fast as she could; harder as she pushed her hips down and in and down and in with force, not too much so as to hurt her, but enough that their dripping little flowers kissed and opened and danced against each other like a true lover's kiss.
Ilse squeaked and arched her back, her limbs freezing as her body entered the throes of pleasure once again. Lufkrieg felt her senses go into overdrive, her vision nearly white as she mashed and mashed and ground herself into such pleasurable throes.
Schlick schlick schlick
“Ah! Ohhhh!”
“Eeeeeeeek!”
When Luftie awoke and the world was bathed in near darkness but for the faint orange glow of dusk tinting the sky, she felt warm and content. Ilse was dozing peacefully beside her, nestled into her fur, hugging tightly. They’d crawled under one sleeping bag, and that was plenty enough space for both of them. She yawned sleepily, nary a care in the world, tucked her free wing around her bestie, and dozed off happily.
