Fluttershy examined her frog yet again, taking in the swollen redness of it. Even now, when it wasn’t touching the floor at all, it burned a bit. She pouted; that was her playing hoof. Hopefully Zecora was right and it would only take a single night to get better. Assuming she could deal with a whole night…
Applejack stood nearby. Farther away than Fluttershy wanted, too close to be comfortable. She, too, eyed the injury, paying no mind to her own problem. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the farmhouse tonight, sugarcube?”
Yes, I want to, and every night after, please. Fluttershy avoided looking into those warm, considerate eyes. “I don’t want to impose.”
It took a moment for Applejack to find her words. There was a distinct hopefulness in them. “It ain’t imposin’. Zecora said them thorns you got do things to ponies. Weird things. Scary things. I…” She ran a fetlock across her foreleg and looked away. “I don’t want you bein' alone if you’re gonna be scared.”
Fluttershy didn’t want that either. The very idea made her tail tuck around her flank. But staying the night at Applejack’s place? Just the two of them in her room. Nothing to do. Nopony else to talk to. Applejack would insist they share the bed, because she was too caring to make Fluttershy sleep alone, in bed or on the floor. They’d be close, their warm bodies heating the sheets and… and…
“You alright, Shy?” Applejack pressed a fetlock to Fluttershy’s forehead. “You’re not gettin' a fever or somethin', are ya?”
“I’m fine.” She brushed Applejack’s hoof away. When her fur pressed against the strong muscles hidden underneath that orange coat, she had to fight not to clench her hips together. “Just thinking about earlier.” Her eyes drifted to the bandage wrapped around her friend’s left hind leg. The aching soreness suddenly moved to her chest. “Is your bite okay?”
Applejack tested the leg, hissing when she put a little too much pressure on it. “It’s sore, not gonna lie, but I’ve been through worse. I’m just glad that timberwolf gave me a little gnawin' instead of takin' the whole leg.”
She never would have got that ‘gnawing’ if she hadn’t had to distract the timberwolves so Fluttershy could get away. And how had Fluttershy repaid that kindness? By ‘running away’ directly into a Chewmind shrub, which in turn forced Applejack to carry her on her back while fleeing on a bleeding leg! Had Zecora not appeared, they might both be…
“I know that look.” The wonderful mare used a hoof to raise Fluttershy’s chin and look her in the eye. Oh, but she had such lovely green eyes. “This isn’t your fault. You know it, because I’m tellin’ ya. It ain’t nothin’ but the truth.”
But it was her fault. Not really, because Applejack wouldn’t lie to her about that, but it sure felt like it was her fault. If only she hadn’t gotten so scared. If only Applejack understood. If only her face wasn’t so close…
For a split second, Applejack’s eyes went wide. She moved back, and Fluttershy had to flick her wings out to not fall on her face. The farmpony pulled her hat over her eyes and Fluttershy cringed. Stupid Fluttershy! You should have paid better attention. Ponyfeathers, she probably thought you were trying to—
“So!” Applejack’s hat was back in place and she had a wide, plastic smile. “I, uh, had probably best be gettin’ back to the farm so I can tell Big Mac the bad news. He ain’t gonna appreciate havin' to do my chores for a few days, but when Zecora says to lay off the apple buckin’, I learned you best lay off the apple buckin’.” A long, pregnant pause. She stared at Fluttershy. Fluttershy stared back, trying not to fidget and not doing a good job of it. “You sure you don’t want to stay at my place?”
Oh, that pony! Fluttershy found herself laughing. Some ponies were too kind for their own good, and that was saying something coming from her. “Applejack, you can go! I promise, I’ll be fine. If I can get through Nightmare Night annually, I can get through this.”
Applejack chuckled. She had a pleasant chuckle, heavy and warm like caramel fresh out of the oven. Mmm, caramel Apple… “Alright, Shy, if you say so. Just know you can come by if things get to be too much. You’re always welcome at the farm.”
At last, she was gone, closing the door gently behind her. That was one of the nice things about her; for all the power she commanded in her legs, she could be as gentle as a bunny when she wanted to be. Fluttershy sighed, imagining that muscular orange frame pressed against her side, little nibbles running down her neck. She took another look at her throbbing hoof, scowling. It would be useless, and her left hoof just wouldn’t be as good. No practice. It was bad enough she got twelve of the Chewmind thorns all over her body, but that one was particularly frustrating. She could have spent the evening thinking about how that mighty, dependable, caring mare had saved her life. And then, as a reward, going up to Fluttershy’s room. Laying her on the bed. Worshipping one another’s bodies… Exploring their most private places…
Fluttershy’s ears drooped and let her hoof sag to the floor. The sting of the contact helped to quell her inner heat a little. If Applejack ever knew she had these thoughts…
“Would she avoid me?” Gingerly, she sat on the floor and stared at her hooves. “Would she think I’m some naughty, perverted freak and want nothing to do with me anymore?” She pressed her hoof harder against the floor, tears beading in her eyes at the pain. “O-or maybe she’d want to give it a go, but with me being so inexperienced… Oh, she’d laugh at me for sure. I can’t win for losing.”
No sounds answered her reflections, neither to cajole or comfort. The cabin was devoid of its usual non-pony inhabitants. She’d explained to them all the situation, how the Chewmind was known to make ponies see and do strange things and that they were more likely to add to the problem than anything else. They’d been understanding. They all had other places they could stay for the night, and Dr. Fauna could care for the injured. Only Angel Bunny had objected, which was why he was locked in a cage at Rarity’s right now. Hopefully he’d forgive her later.
But right now she had more important things to fret over, like relieving all the tension that she’d conjured up thinking of Applejack. Sweet, sweet Applejack…
Groaning, she hobbled upstairs. A cold shower was exactly what she needed right now.
So far, the Chewmind didn’t seem as bad as Zecora had predicted. Fluttershy spent her time lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering when things might start getting weird. After all that hype from her Everfree neighbor, she was sure she’d be huddled under the bed by now. Instead she lay there thinking about the taste of apples and resisting the urge to scratch the itches, both from the Chewmind thorns and… other kinds.
Mumbling, she sat up and thought of something she might do to ease her restless mind. A pile of books sat on her nightstand. She flipped through them. A book on the proper care for giraffes, a buckball magazine with Pinkie’s, Snails’, and her own image on the cover. Oh, the romance novel Rarity insisted she try. She picked it up, examined the cover. It featured a young, pale mare making bedroom eyes at the camera while some large, hairy creature loomed in shadows behind her, one canine paw on her shoulder. Really, what kind of romance featured a mare falling in love with a werewolf? Did Rarity expect her to like something like that? Granted, she hadn’t read it yet, but it seemed a stretch.
And it hardly seemed like appropriate reading material given the situation. With another sigh, she set the book aside and looked around. Her room was dark. So very dark. The all-encompassing gloom was oddly intimidating. Such a foolish position to take. The dark could be scary, but this was her room! It wasn’t like there were things in the corners… trying to…
Her eyes were set at the blackness beneath her bed. It… It moved. Not the movement of an animal or pony hiding under there. The darkness itself writhed, a thousand tiny flickers of shadow against shadow, the tips like so many claws and—
Fluttershy shook her head as hard as she could and took another look. Nothing. No motions. No living shades. It was just her bed.
Her breathing had slowed to a steady huffing. “Stay calm,” she whispered. “Zecora warned you. It’s… It’s perfectly normal. Just the Chewmind finally kicking in. You’re not a filly anymore, Fluttershy, and there are no monsters under the bed.”
She said it, but the overbearing night left her with chills. She needed light. Trotting around the bed, she threw the curtains of her window open. Luna’s half-full moon bathed her back yard in a dim, pale glow. It wasn’t much, but anything was better than… what was before. Sucking in a calming breath, Fluttershy tried to focus on her garden.
The air caught in her throat; something was down there. It sat in the dirt between the marigolds and the potatoes. It had to be the size of a pony, its colors faded grey in the night. A body covered in wooden growths, sickly green light glowing in its predatory eyes. Eyes that spoke of hunger. Of eagerness. Of impatience. Eyes that stared right through Fluttershy and had her knees shaking. A timberwolf?
No. Not a timberwolf. Something else. Something like a timberwolf, but… equine. It’s head reared back and it let out a long, low, piercing howl. The eerie sound rattled around in Fluttershy’s skull, filling her, making her back tense up. She clenched her eyes tight. “It’s not there. It’s not there. It’s not there!”
Silence, more oppressive than the howl. It poured into her consciousness like a cruel river. Her ears perked, listening for any other noises. There was nothing, not even the wind against the limbs outside. A creeping presence made itself known, a sense of eyes taking in her every available surface. And with that invasive examination came a tingling…
Clenching her hips, she forced her eyes open. The garden was empty.
Heart pounding against her ribs, Fluttershy limped to her nightstand. She was scratching at one of her Chewmind bumps. She stopped herself. The flashlight. Ever-trusty flashlight. It would be her savior. No bad little mind tricks would be able to bother her with it in hoof. It came on, nice and easy. She turned around—
A face in the corner! All fangs and green eyes radiating smoke and a long, slimy tongue and—Nothing. Gasping again and again, Fluttershy jerked the flashlight from corner to corner, even checking the ceiling. Blood thundered in her ears. It was in the room! It was here. Whatever it was, it was with her and it would eat her fragile pony flesh!
Pain invaded her chest. The world began to twist. The corners of her vision darkened.
Training and a lifetime of experience kicked in. As her lungs burned and hooves trembled, she opened the door of her end table and pulled out a little bottle. Two blue pills crunched in her teeth before she swallowed them down. Then she lay on the floor, wrapped herself up in a ball, and tried to breathe.
Time passed, time with strange sounds of barks and moans and claws scratching on wood. Breathe. A hideous panting directly in her ear. Breathe. Slickness around her marehood. Breathe. An all-encompassing heat. Breathe!
Air rushed into her lungs. Blessed, beautiful air! She spent some time lying on her back, just relishing the fresh oxygen in her system. The ache in her chest gradually faded. The noises were all gone, replaced by her slowing gasps and the steadily fading blood in her eardrums. Her thoughts drifted to Applejack. If she’d gone to the farm as offered, the attack would have been witnessed. Who would want to waste time dealing with things like this? One more reason it was better to not go there, no matter how much she wanted to.
Her throat was dry. Milk. Warm milk helped. On heavy hooves, Fluttershy stood and limped for the door. The hallway was every bit as gloomy as her room. She flicked the light switch and was bathed in the cold, unpleasant brightness of the overhead lamp. She hated the thing. Candles and firefly lamps were better. Less artificial. Electric lights were unfeeling, looming things, loud and boisterous and… and why did the overhead light just move?
Stop playing this game, Fluttershy. You know none of it is real. Setting her jaw and ignoring the itching all over her body, she trudged down the stairs. She turned for the kitchen, but paused. Her ear flicked.
Scratching. Something was scratching… somewhere. Had one of the animals come back? Or maybe it was one that never got the message. Sighing, rubbing at her itchy shoulder, she followed the sound. “Hello? Is someanimal down here?”
More scratching. It increased in pace. Insistent. Eager. She followed it into the living room, ears aimed at the noise. It was coming from the front door. She stopped before it, tension building in her mind. That scratching… Long, slow scrapes against the wood. “I’m… I’m sorry, I can’t help right now, b-but if you come back tomorrow…”
Clattering. From the kitchen. Fluttershy spun around, eyes wide. Something was inside. The scratching didn’t stop. “Wh-who’s there?”
A shadow slid through the blackness of the kitchen door. The kitchen… She couldn’t see inside. It was like the dark had become physical and taken up all the space.
The scratching didn’t stop.
“It’s a-awful late, and… and you really shouldn’t be—” She squeaked as something thunked in the dark.
The scratching grew more eager.
Her rump was pressed against the couch. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the nothingness. Her ears struggled to catch both it and the front door.
The scratching grew long, each sound a drawn out scraping of wood on wood.
Something hard and coated in claws kneaded her flanks. Yelping, she jumped forward and spun around to face… nothing.
Head moving in jerks, she took in the front door, trying to control her breathing. Then to the kitchen where— Eyes. Emerald, glowing eyes. Green vapors floated up between glistening fangs. Panting. Panting. Huffing, wet, eager panting.
The scratching stopped.
The eyes were gone, with their fangs and husky, focused breaths.
Fluttershy didn’t move. She stood frozen, ears perked and eyes alert. Air whistled through her lungs in tiny, quick bursts.
The howl filled the air, filled the world, filled Fluttershy’s skull! It shook her furniture, made the floorboards rattle and jump! Glass shattered, and something crashed to the floor. She opened her eyes and saw it: all wood and teeth and claws and hungry green eyes. It stood low on four equine legs, pale mane flowing over its withers of oak and fur. The growl heated every blood vessel of Fluttershy’s body.
The back door! She turned for the kitchen and stopped before she could take two steps. Darkness. Pure darkness. A bark from behind was enough to make her take the plunge.
The world was nothing. Nothing but black. Fluttershy tried to think of where the back door was, but everything was a mess in her head! The growls were getting louder, the claws scraped the floor. Closer. Every step, closer. Fighting to control her breathing, she moved away as quickly and quietly as she could. She kept her injured hoof aimed forward, feeling for some sign, some clue to where she was.
Pain shot through her cannon. Fluttershy barely avoided crying out, placing the hoof in her mouth and sucking on it. No time, the creature’s breaths were getting louder! She felt tenderly at the object. Table. The kitchen table! If she oriented herself in her mind… and her table was here…
The back door was to her right! She pressed her side to the table and moved with excruciating slowness. The timberwolf-pony-thing was sniffing the air, she could hear it. Another low growl made everything grow hot. Her tail flicked. The sniffing increased in eagerness, growing closer. Fluttershy reached the corner of the table. Her back door was only a few steps away. If she ran, if she closed the door behind her quick, then maybe…
A low, long growl filled the air. Fluttershy’s nethers grew warm as a sticky, impatient wind blew against them. With a yelp, she ran forward. The door would be—
She smashed into something solid. Her hoof was already reaching up even as her scrambled mind caught up to the fact that everything was wrong. The lock wasn’t where it was supposed to be. There was nothing— There! A jolt of pain ran up her injured hoof as it slammed into a solid… countertop? A mewling whimper escaped her throat.
Claws on the floor, a bark that sounded like the mangled cross between an equine scream and a canine snarl. Fluttershy moved sideways, falling to the floor as something big smashed into the counter where she’d just been, so close wood rubbed across her side for a breathless instant. She sobbed and crawled away from the noise, into the dark nothingness. Her eyes burned from unseen tears.
Teeth snapped and claws scratched. The beast howled its frustration, sending fiery shivers up and down her spine. The crack of her head smacking against the bottom of the table filled the emptiness like a thunderclap. An instant later, she felt the wind of the table in motion. A leg of it whacked her shoulder and sent her toppling to the ground. The sound of it shattering against the wall was enough to get her back on her hooves and running!
Light! She froze, blinking in the brilliant moonlight shadows of her living room. The closed door, from where the sound of scratching resumed in a relentless, steady rhythm. Scratching… scratching… scratching…
Fluttershy turned around. Her kitchen door was no longer an impenetrable wall of black. It was just her kitchen. Except the table was gone, and claw marks were all over the floor, and—
And a head, half-pony and half-timberwolf, appeared from around it, sniffing at the air as sap dripped from its fangs. Its face snapped in her direction at her gasp, predatory eyes locking with hers. Lips spread wide in a devilish grin as a pink tongue rolled about its muzzle. A long, slow, decadent sniff at the air. The sound, the sheer sensuality of it, made everything blurry. The world swayed beneath Fluttershy’s hooves.
Scratching, scratching, scratching at the door…
It took a lone step, and the spell was broken! The voice in Fluttershy’s head screamed at her, Run, you stupid pony! With a cry, she moved for the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her, paying no mind to the searing fire of her injured hoof on the hard floor. The creature’s talons resounded against the floorboards as it scrambled in her wake!
Around the corner, into the hall, to the stairs, she could hear its snarls getting louder! Up, up, forever up, endlessly, forever up, down up, down, down! Her world became snarls and heat and wetness and tears and I don’t want to die! Heart beating against her ribs, pain searing through her leg, an eternal itch all over her body, beads of sweat down her brow, droplets of moisture between her legs. The lifeless overhead light filled the world with its unpleasant glow as she reached the top step at last. Her bedroom door, wide open and inviting.
A monstrous howl, and something smashed into Fluttershy from behind. Her hind legs lost traction and she slid to the ground, screaming as her forelegs splayed out. The thing was on her back! Her wings, once pinned in fear, snapped out in a desperate bid to dislodge the fiend. It snarled and tried to grip her shoulders with its oaken hoof-claws. The pressure on her back warmed like an oven, its weight trying to pin her chest to the floor. She tried to get a hoofhold as it panted its dark promise into her ear. Promises of things she should never want, things she hated herself for wanting, things that drove her to a twisted, animal desperation.
Something deep and primal arose from the depths. There was no recourse; she embraced it fully. With a snarl of her own, she reared back to bite on the only thing available to her: the soft pony flesh between the bark of the creature’s chin. The beast howled as she ground her equine teeth together, attempting to rear back and escape. Seizing her last hope, she turned onto her back, tucked her hind legs in, channeled her inner Applejack, and bucked.
The hooves landed solid against the soft flesh of the monster’s chest. It flew back with a grunt, slamming hard against the wall. Fluttershy got to her hooves as fast as she could, spitting sap from her lips. Get inside! She hurried to her bedroom, turned, grabbed the door—
Pale light shown down on the monster. It lay on its side against the wall, dazed. Where before it was little more than a shape of ill-defined colors in a hideous half-canine form, the brightness gave it a splash of grim color. The protruding bark, brown and solid. The equine flesh, a distinct orange. The mane and tail were an unmistakable blonde, like fresh-cut hay. The creature raised its head and stared at Fluttershy as if not sure what she was, and she saw past those oak growths and fangs the unmistakable white of freckles. Emerald green eyes met hers, showing a moment of pain, confusion, and awareness.
Fluttershy stared back, hoof limp against the door handle. Her throat was dry. Swallowing did nothing to appease it. A sudden, teasing desire threatened to stiffen her wings, and her traitorous mind couldn’t help but conjure the possibilities. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I… If I let it…
The uncertainty faded from the beast’s gaze. Its lips pulled back in a snarl as it rose from the floor and crouched, shoulders flexing. Its tail flicked, its fangs snapped. The sound in its throat rose in volume, higher. Higher. Higher.
It pounced!
Fluttershy slammed the door closed and flicked the lock just in time for the oak to shake from a mighty impact. She backed away as frantic scratches sounded against the solid wood. “P-please, stop. Please.” A ferocious bark beyond that of canine capability had her knees knocking. The scratching continued.
She went to her window, tried to push it open. It resisted. The clawing was in her mind, all over her body. The itching. She itched so much! Rubbing at her sores, she pounded on the glass to no effect. What was wrong? So much scratching, scratching and feverish panting. A heat grew in her loins, made her mind fuzzy and her wings quiver. “Open, open, why won’t you open?” Why didn’t she go with Applejack? Applejack made her feel safe and protected and so frustratingly itchy!
The window wouldn’t open. The scratching and growling wouldn’t stop. She turned to face her room, and the motion sent the world spinning. She was so itchy and steaming and why wouldn’t it leave her alone? Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sought something, anything to help her. The flashlight, there, on the floor! She snatched it in her good hoof, turned it on, and returned to the window, whining as a depraved snarl blew through the crack beneath her door. The beam of light shined on the window, looking for an obstruction.
The window was covered in thick tree limbs. They wrapped tightly against the glass like the coils of a snake, squeezing, searching, lingering. Fluttershy’s breaths came in husky gasps as the itching turned into a continuous, carnal burning! The beam of light vibrated wildly in her grip. “A-Applejack… H-help me. P-please.”
She looked to the bed. One glance at the covers made the heat growing within her unbearable. The beam reached the bottom of the bed and met only darkness. Memories of lingering, writhing black tendrils brought out a shuddering gasp and weakened her knees. And always the scratching, the steamy scratching! It filled her ears, like the fiery, furious breaths through the crack in her door, breaching her most private sanctuary. Every inhale, an unwholesome need, every exhale a furious release of terror!
With no other recourse, she climbed into her small closet and closed the door. In the cramped dark, with only her flashlight to protect her, she curled into a ball and trembled while the scratching continued endlessly, relentless, without sympathy for her agony. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip with the intensity of the scraping, violating noise. Every breathe came with the desperate whine for salvation, high pitched and full of inconceivable tension. As the fire grew fiercer, the soreness bit deeper, the breathes boiled her body, she silently called for a savior who would never come.
Applejack. Applejack. Applejack!
The howl filled the universe. Fluttershy shrieked…
…and knew nothing.
“Fluttershy? Fluttershy!”
The voice pulled her out of her slumber. Fluttershy’s whole body ached.
“Come on, Shy, talk to me!”
She uncurled from the ball she’d apparently slept in, thumping her head on the side of the closet.
“Fluttershy? That you in there?”
The events of last night flooded back through her mind, half-haze and half-clear. Pushing the door open, she saw bright morning sunshine through her bedroom window. Everything was as it should be.
“If you’re in there, I need you to open up.”
Applejack? That delightful accent sent a jolt of energy through the pegasus. She started for the door, paused, checked her hoof. The swelling was gone. Gingerly, she pressed it to the floor. No pain. She heaved a long, satisfied sigh. It was over. It had all just been the fevered hallucinations of the Chewmind running through her system. Never had she been so happy to know that she’d merely been through a nightmare!
“Darn it, Shy! If you don’t open this door to the count of three, I’m openin' it the old fashioned way!”
With a squeak, she hurried to the door and flicked the lock. The door opened before she could grasp the handle, and a pale-faced Applejack bounded into the room. “Shy! Oh, thank sugar you’re alright. Y-you are alright, ain’cha?” She began examining Fluttershy top to bottom, very real worry in her eyes.
Acting on instinct long denied, Fluttershy moved forward, pressing against the larger, sturdier mare and rubbing necks with her. “I am now.”
The farm pony went stiff like one of her apple trees. She didn’t return the gesture. “Uh…”
Oh, no, too much! Fluttershy retreated, heart pounding and eyes on the floor. “I-I’m sorry, I was just so happy to see you because… b-because, um…”
Applejack came forward, hooking one leg around Fluttershy’s withers as she rubbed furiously blushing cheeks with the mare. “H-hey, now, none of that. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” She gave the pegasus a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you stay here alone, but I didn’t wanna force the issue. That’d be wrong, wouldn’t it?”
Would it have been? Fluttershy wasn’t sure. But now that it was over, she wished she had listened. This closeness, it was every bit as wonderful as she’d dreamed. So many dreams. It filled her with a warmth, pleasant and gentle, not at all like the horror of last night’s visions. “Next time you ask, I’ll definitely go.”
They stayed like that for some time, neither addressing this new level of contact between them. Fluttershy wondered if it meant to Applejack what it did to her. She hoped so. Dearly. There was so much she wanted to say, to try, to do. After what she’d just gone through, none of it seemed so intimidating. But for now she’d just enjoy this moment of tranquility. There’d be time for asking the important questions and making the real moves later.
Applejack stirred, her wonderful voice tickling the ears. “Shy? What happened here?”
Something horrible, but also something wonderful. She felt like a new mare. “Nothing. They were just visions and nightmares, no more. They worked me up quite a bit, but it’s over now.”
The room grew quiet. A stiffness had come over Applejack. Slowly, she stepped back. “I need you to see somethin'.” She turned and went for the door.
Perplexed, Fluttershy followed. “I can understand if there’s a mess. The Chewmind made me see some… disturbing things, and I might have made a stir about it.”
Applejack waited until she was in the hallway. “A stir like this?” She closed the bedroom door.
It was covered in long, deep claws marks.
Author's Note
While thinking up potential ideas for the contest, I came upon the thought of Fluttershy being alone at her cottage and stalked by something. I couldn't think of what at first. It couldn't be a regular animal, she can deal with those easy enough. The idea came to me of it being a timberwolf, since she apparently can't communicate or otherwise reason with them. Of course, thinking about timberwolves got me to thinking about Timberjack, and suddenly I knew what I wanted to stalk Fluttershy. The question then became how to justify the encounter. I didn't want this to just be "Timberjack stalks Fluttershy, the end". It needed something more personal.
I don't know when or how it hit me, but I was thinking about how the story needed to relate to some deep fear of Fluttershy's. That fear eventually morphed into sexual tension. When you think about it, consensual sex can be a frightening prospect. Especially for somepony already so socially anxious as Fluttershy. What if she's not ready? What if the other pony isn't willing to wait for her to be ready? What if she doesn't like it? What if she moves too fast, and she's the one taking advantage of the other? What if the other pony hates sex? What if her desires make the other pony think she's a pervert and they no longer want anything to do with her? What if, what if, what if, and all along she faces a building, burning desire that she can't satisfy because daring to do so might ruin everything!
Consensual sex can be scary.
I wanted this story to act as a metaphor for facing that particular fear.
UPDATE:
Interviewer It Is All Hell made fan art for Fangs! Check it:
From the artist:
The entire white shape is Fluttershy's upside down head, and the jagged shit at the top is claw marks. Also, the photo turned out slightly blurry, but I reckon that complements the drawing's abstract, psychedelic nature.
So cool to get fan art! That never happens to me. Many thanks, IIAL!
