Forgettable Tale of a River Troll

"You should not be here you three, your safety I cannot guarantee."

Zecora was about to put the finishing touches on one of her remedies. Her choice of medicine would cure the rots of swamp-hoof. That was before the three troublemaking fillies came knocking at her door. It had been quite a while since she had visitors come by.

"We wanted t' see how you were holdin' up" Applebloom replied, making a show of pouting with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.

Zecora nodded with a smile, "Thank you for checking on me, but what other reason could there be?"

"Weeeelll-" Sweetie Belle began-

Only for Scootaloo to interrupt, "We need a story so we don't fail our class project!" She declared honestly.

The other two girls threw her a glare while Zecora hummed to herself in thought.

"I am flattered, but why me particularly? Would it not be bettered if you asked in Ponyville safely?

"That's exactly why! Nopony else would evah think to go into th' Everfree for this!" Applebloom got into Zecora's face.

Sweetie Belle chimed in "And you have to have a pretty interesting story to be hanging out in the Everfree too!"

"And you've got nothing else to do and nobody else!" Scootaloo butted in.

"Pleasepleasepleeeaaaase??" The three begged in-sync, bouncing up and down with one another.

Zecora took a moment to think. She preferred her past to be as hidden as possible. The dangers of her previous travels were usually not suitable for children. The stories and morals had come under scrutiny once before due to the wild lands she once belonged to. It motivated her to stay in the Everfree, a far more hospitable place indeed. What could she possibly talk about to three children for an educational lesson?

She motioned the three girls indoors. Thinking to herself she briefly resumed her work, adding the final ingredient to the swamp-hoof cure. A small sample of ground forget-me-nots. Memories of the Wetlands swirled around in her mind, where she wished she had the medicine. A particular acquaintance came to mind, and a smile played upon her face. If she could not talk about herself, then perhaps another could take her place. She also thought it would perhaps dissuade them from further questions, as well as dangerous trips into the forest.

"Very well, but this is not my story to tell. I know someone who may be frightful, but means well."

"What do ya mean?" Applebloom asked.

"He owes a favor to me, come and you will see" Zecora grabbed a traveler's pack, and began to prepare for a day trip.

She picked up a few items. Some flowers she traded for at the market to feed on, prepared water, some spare medicine for their own safety. Some nasty, odd-smelling bags, and a strange object the three had never seen before. It was a long pole, with various strange objects tied at the end of a long thread. It was awkward to carry for any pony regardless of the denture-marks made for easier gripping. Zecora could barely get out of the door with it. To the crusaders it was presumed to be a lot of things: a ritual tool zebras used like her masks, a scavenged pole to vault with, maybe even a toy.

It was more common to use a fishing rod in the Wetlands, where species of all sorts inhabited. Fly fishing rods were often considered unwieldy except by races with hand and claw. Earth ponies and zebras would have to be either very skilled, or very daft to try using a fly fishing rod over a normal rod. Zecora may have been considered both, various fish of the Wetlands secreted magic-enhanced oils. A valuable reagent for potions, poisons, and so on.

The four went back to Ponyville. Zecora told their guardians where she would be taking them, why they were going there and guaranteed their safety as their chaperone. There was not much objection, due to the pond being far from the forest.

The three fillies didn't stop pestering the zebra with questions. Zecora would only smile lightly, pole in mouth. The danger was almost non-existent and overall uneventful, the walk fairly quiet for having a few curious children in tow. She turned sharply once they got to a small bridge, following the small stream of water. As they went along, the stream only got bigger and bigger. In not much time at all, they arrived at their destination. Zecora stopped to look back at her traveling companions, gently laying the pole on the ground near the edge of the pond.

"I would like you to meet an old friend of mine. They may be gruff, and they may even cross the line...but I assure you it will be fine."

She flung the rod, the odd flashy bits and pieces flicking to and fro. The three watched as Zecora craned and thrashed her neck in odd ways, maneuvering the bait-end of the rod across the water's surface. The three crusaders closed together in hushed whispers, wondering if she really was an enchantress. Occasionally Zecora would catch one of the fish, storing them for later use.

Just as Scootaloo was about to ask why this crazy zebra was only gathering fish, there was a tremor. A large hand arose from the water, yanking the pole out from Zecora's muzzle. The water in front of them began to eddy as the hand rotated, throwing the pole elsewhere. Some seaweed floated from the swirling vortex of water. Then from below that seaweed, a grotesque face. That seaweed-esque hair had a pin in it, one that swirled itself. Its complexion was riddled with lumps and bumps, its skin a sickening color mesh of blue and green. The rest of its massive body remained obscured by the deep, murky water.

"WHO TAKE MY FISHIES?!" The creature bellowed.

Three young fillies screamed, the Zebra stood stock-still. The creature pointed at Zecora.

"Oh it zebra." It looked behind Zecora to the trembling trio. "You bring pony-food?" The young girls huddled closer, looking worriedly to their guide.

"Surely you jest, I'd give you nothing but the best!"

The zebra tossed the bag to the creature. The creature gave it a sharp inhale. It promptly ate the contents of the bag. Also the bag itself.

"Luv jerky, good."

It began to sink slightly into the water. Zecora swiftly whipped out another odd bag.

"Tell us of the time, back on the River Lime! I have paid your toll, Fishing Pole. A story where none were harmed, that is how your audience must be charmed!"

STOP RHYME WITH BIG WORDS! HEAD HURT! It retaliated angrily, a wave caused by its hands had soaked the ponies. "Why dumb zebra rhyme anyway, you no talk like dat back den"

Zecora, dripping wet, began to stammer out "W-well you see, a practitioner of medicine I had to be-"

"STOP. RHYMEY. ZAKORA. AUGH!" The nasty large thing enunciated in her face, its rotten breath making her flinch and the younger ones retch somewhat.

Zecora cleared her throat, and took several deep breaths.

"Fine. It's not like it helps when talking to you. Selfish, dumb thing." Her tone having gone somewhat dark.

The three tag-a-longs' mouths were agape. Zecora noticed the flabbergasted expressions on their faces. Her sour mood lifted into a chuckle.

"Apologies for deceiving you little ponies, it's just to market my profession. Though this thoughtless river troll is really the only one that makes me have to break out of it. No respect for a gimmick." She gestured to the aquatic abnormality. "This thing is called a river troll. Its name is Fishing Pole."

The few fillies were fairly well stunned at Zecora's sudden change of demeanor. Sweetie Belle slowly raised her hoof first. Zecora gave a nod. "So...why is it named Fishing Pole?" She asked hesitantly.

"It is troll tradition to name themselves after the first thing they try to eat."

"...Was it starvin' at least?" Applebloom asked quizzically.

"No, trolls are just the most idiotic creatures." Zecora gave a look to it. The troll snickered.

Scootaloo pointed her hoof to Zecora "You know, you can always just talk normal around us. I don't see why you have to force yourself.

Zecora chuckled for a moment "You are mistaken my feathered friend, when it comes to rhyming I prefer not to bend. It is quite fun, not terribly different from making a pun."

For most of the conversation, Zecora had been swatting away the hand coming from underwater. It seemed like the arm it belonged to bent at a strange angle.

"Give jerky"

"Not yet. I want you to tell them how we met first." Zecora pointed her hoof towards the young girls, then back to the troll. "You cannot talk about what you ate that day. Nopony needs to hear that."

"But dey tasted-"

"NO." Zecora reaffirmed, stamping her hoof into the shallows.

Fishing Pole gave a snort.

"You also have to answer their questions."

"Hmph."

The girls briefly introduced themselves to the troll. The river troll picked its nose in turn. They reviewed their assignment and prepared themselves. There was only one question they needed to answer for their assignment, and it was dreadfully simple:

"Can you live your life without friendship, Mr. Fishing Pole? Why or why not?"