The sun rose proudly over the horizon as I, a gray arctic fox, walked down a narrow path. I’d been up since I’d found what I thought was the perfect place to set up camp - a place I could call home, in a way. It would have to do. I had only one goal in mind: to gather as many resources as possible before hunger made its demands. The pain of an empty stomach is excruciating; I knew that well, and the last thing I needed was to make it worse than it already was. With my current luck, that might very well happen.
My eyes scanned the area before me, the rocky terrain littered with boulders just waiting to be mined. My paw reached into the pack on my back and pulled out a crude pickaxe I had fashioned from a few sticks and flint. It wasn’t much, but it would do. I took a deep breath and rammed the pick into the first rock I spotted. The resulting clang echoed through the air, the vibrations numbing my paws.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered to myself as I dug deeper and deeper into the rock. Finally I felt something shift, and I pulled the axe out, causing the boulder to crumble into smaller pieces. “Perfect,” I quickly gathered up all the rocks and carefully placed them in my backpack, then started on the next one, breaking it down piece by piece until there was only a pile of small stones left, which I threw into the bag along with the pickaxe.
Satisfied with my progress, I walked back to the path and picked up my pace, feeling the cold bite of hunger gnawing at my insides. I just have to keep going,’ I thought to myself. I just have to make it there. I pushed my legs forward faster, racing down the hill and into the forest. My paws slipped and slid over the ground, but I managed to stay upright and steady on my feet, racing through the trees. The world was reduced to the sound of my heavy footsteps hitting the ground.
As the trees thinned out, I began to slow down, letting my feet carry me into the open grassy plain. Tall grass mixed with saplings and shrubs dotted the landscape. A single small pond shimmered in the distance, cutting the path in half.
As I approached the edge of the pond, I threw my pack aside and knelt on all fours. My claws sank into the soft earth as I watched the water. My teeth ached, waiting to sink into the sweet-smelling flesh of the fish that swam around the pond, unaware of my presence. I sighed and licked my lips, preparing for the rush of adrenaline that always accompanied my attack. My muscles tensed and my head bowed slightly in concentration, anticipation building. My eyes followed a few large greenish fish swimming across the surface. My tail swayed slightly, ready to strike at the right moment.
I jumped and grabbed the largest fish I could, its mouth open in surprise as I bit down hard on its neck. It thrashed in my jaws as I pulled myself out of the water. Blood gushed from the gash I had made in its neck. I tossed it aside and pounced on the second, which was now struggling in my grasp. My jaws tightened around the thick, scaly skin of its neck, tearing it apart until it was as still as a stone.
I retreated from the pond, dropping both fish back into the mud. I wiped my mouth with the back of my paw, licking away any blood that might have dripped. Then, taking a deep breath, I went over to my pack and grabbed a bunch of the rocks I had dug up. I arranged the rocks on the ground in a closed circle. Placing branches and dry grass inside, I took a flint and struck it against a rock. The flame caught easily and quickly and spread to the rest of the firewood. Satisfied that the circle would contain the flames for the time being, I turned back to retrieve my kills.
Kneeling beside the bodies of the two fish, I picked one up and placed it on a flat rock. My nose twitched as I brought the fresh meat to me, my whiskers twitching with excitement. Slowly I placed it on the edge of the fire, keeping one eye on the fish to keep it from burning. My ears twitched as a howl pierced the air. I froze, my whole body stiffening, waiting to see if it would come again. After several long moments of silence, I relaxed and looked around, searching for the source of the sound. It seemed far away. Good.
I sat down, grabbed some grass and sticks, and laid the sticks on top of each other. Then I used the grass as a makeshift rope to tie them together. When I was done, I put the flint on top of the stick and used more grass to hold it in place. I looked at it. It seemed strong enough, a very primitive spear, but it would have to do.
With my newly made tool, I stabbed the fish and lifted it from the rock. I held it above my head, shaking it back and forth, examining it as its aroma filled the air. Satisfied with the results, I took a deep breath and bit into it, chewing the flesh with relish. The flavors filled my mouth and washed away the hunger pangs. I hummed with satisfaction as the juices ran down my throat and coated my tongue. The meat was rich, almost savory, and I swallowed as many bites as I could until the bones began to show.
As I pulled it from the spear, another howl echoed through the forest. I pricked up my ears. This time it seemed closer and more intense, making the hairs on my arms stand up. My ears swung from side to side, trying to locate the source. Something must have set the dogs off, but what? I wondered as the howling faded into a distant bark. The forest seemed to hold its breath, and I felt a shiver run down my spine, as if some hidden danger lurked just beyond the trees.
Murmuring to myself, I thought, I’d better take a look at that, so it doesn’t bite me in the tail later. Standing up, I tightened my grip on the spear with my claws as I headed into the forest.
The leaves on the ground crunched under my paws as I followed the distant barks. The trees loomed overhead, casting shadows that added to my unease. I trudged forward, stretching out my spear as the barks grew louder, along with something I hadn’t heard in ages.
“Get away from me, you... You ruffians!” A voice, a real voice, reached my ears. Without thinking, I ran towards it, making my way into a clearing. I stopped suddenly when I saw the source of the barking. Two large dogs were clawing and barking at a huge rock that seemed to be blocking the entrance to a cave. Their milky white eyes filled with rage as the voice called out again.
“Oh, if there is a creature willing to help me out of this dangerous situation! That would be greatly appreciated,” my heart skipped a beat, someone was actually alive out here and I was going to make sure it was real by doing something really stupid. I bent down to pick up a rock from the ground and threw it at one of the dogs. The rock hit its target with a loud thud, causing one of the beasts to turn toward me.
“Yeah, I’m the one who threw it,” I blurted out, a mixture of nervousness and bravado in my voice. My heart pounded as I extended my spear and said, “How about you do something about it?” The hound, now focused on me, growled in response, slowly approaching with rage in its eyes. Its body tensed, ready to pounce at the first opportunity. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the attack.
It lunged forward, its jaws snapping inches from my face. I dodged its attack, narrowly missing its razor-sharp teeth.
I swung my spear with all my might, connecting with the hound’s side. It yelped in pain and stumbled backward, landing on its back. Seizing the opportunity, I lunged forward and drove my spear deep into its chest, pushing it in as far as my strength would allow. A primal scream escaped its throat and I glanced at its friend, the other hound turning toward me. Before I could blink, it lunged at me, sending me flying backwards to the ground as the hound flew off of me, landing right next to me and snarling menacingly, its fangs bared.
I struggled to get up, but before I had the chance, the beast jumped and bit down on my left arm. I screamed in pain and stumbled back to the ground as it used its weight against me. Its teeth sank deeper into me, blood dripping down my fur as the pain overcame every nerve in my body.
I began to claw at its eyes, desperately trying to loosen its grip on my arm. But it held on, digging its fangs deeper and deeper. The sight of my own blood made my stomach churn, fear gripping my gut like cold iron bands. I could feel it draining from me, flowing out through the gaps in its teeth. No matter how hard I tried, the hound wouldn’t let go and I couldn’t free myself.
“Let him go now, you brute!” a rock suddenly struck the beast in the forehead, knocking it out of my arms. I saw another rock hit it in the head, hard enough to knock it unconscious. I stood unsteadily and looked at the other dog, its body limp. The spear lodged in his chest. I turned to see the owner of the voice.
I was stunned by what I saw in the cave entrance, a unicorn with a coat that once might have been a brilliant white, now adorned with the earthy tones of the wilderness, her mane and tail a dark royal purple, almost entirely matted as twigs and leaves hung from it in clumps. Cloth was wrapped around her front and hind legs, acting as bandages where I could see bits of blood underneath. Her horn was pale white like her fur, with a slight blue tint. The same shimmer could be seen around the massive rock that had once served as her shield. Her eyes were the same color, crystal clear blue, now staring at me warily.
“Hey, thanks for that,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “You really saved my dick back there. So thank you...”
She looked away, her eyes fixed intently on the ground, shifting nervously. “Well, darling, I should thank you for risking your life for me.” She looked back at me, eyes locked as her tone became more serious. “Really, thank you. I really thought I was going to die out here because of these brutes. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
I nodded, giving a small smile in return. “No problem,” I winced as the wounds in my arm flared with pain. “That one dog got me pretty badly, but I’m glad I could help. Uh, what’s your name?”
“My apologies, darling. My name is Rarity,” she introduced herself politely. Noticing my discomfort, her expression changed to one of concern. “Let me take a look at that wound, dear,” she suggested, stepping closer.
I reached out nervously, the same glow from her horn now forming around the wound. I could feel something gently probing it as I stared at it in confusion. That confusion turned to relief as the pain began to subside. “How are you doing this?” I asked, confused about what was happening to my injured arm.
Rarity met my eyes with a smile. “Is this your first experience with unicorn magic, darling? Don’t worry, it’s just a little spell to ease the pain of a wound.” Her words brought a touch of reassurance. “I will use a spell to clean it before I bandage it. Now, dear, please tell me your name.”
I hesitated for a moment, still processing what I had seen. “I am Arctic heart,” I replied, finally finding my voice. “But you can call me Arctic if you like.” She smiled at me gratefully, her magic washing the blood from my arm as a bag floated out of the cave. I watched as she grabbed it and pulled out some cloth and a bottle filled with some kind of yellowish liquid. “What’s in the bottle?”
“It’s honey,” she replied. “Honey has a way of sealing wounds and preventing infection. I learned that from my camping trips with my friends.” As Rarity spoke, she applied the honey to the cloth before wrapping it tightly around my arm. “It will help the wound heal and kill any germs my spell missed.”
Once she was finished, I looked down at my now-bandaged arm and noticed the comforting embrace of the honey-soaked fabric. “Wow, it almost feels like the wound was never there,” I marveled. As I flexed my arm, a low growl echoed beside me. I glanced over to see Rarity nervously placing a hoof on her belly.
“I’ve set up a campsite,” I suggested with a smile. “I could cook you a fish, if it’s something you can eat. It’s the least I can do after all the help you’ve given me.”
Her eyes lit up as she put everything back in her bag. “Yes, I do enjoy the occasional fish, darling. Lead the way.”
Author's Note
I hope you all had a good thanksgiving. Even if you didn't have thanksgiving as a holiday, i hope your day goes well.
suggestions and criticism is welcome.
Lights out
The campfire crackled, its warm glow dancing with the sun as it sank below the horizon. I sat by the fire, watching the fish cook on the rock. I held my spear in my right hand, waiting for the right moment to pull it out of the fire. My eyes flickered to Rarity, who was sitting by the pond, using her magic to lift clumps of water and slide them over her, clearing away dirt, leaves and sticks that had stuck to her coat and mane. As my eyes inspected the pony, they settled on a feature I hadn’t noticed before. What I saw was a beautiful tattoo of three diamonds on her flank. I’d never seen anything like it before, and my curiosity was punished when Rarity floated a branch over my head and smacked me lightly with it.
“Sorry,” I said, rubbing my forehead and looking at my friend apologetically. I saw her roll her eyes with a smile on her face. I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or amused. “May I ask what is the story behind that tattoo? It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you, dear, but it’s not a tattoo. It’s my cutie mark,” Rarity explained. “A cutie mark is a magical symbol that appears on a pony’s flank, signifying their special talent and purpose in life. It’s a unique emblem that defines who we are and what makes us special.” She looked thoughtfully off into the distance.
“Well, is it like a skill that someone is really good at? I won’t lie, I haven’t gotten much out of it.” I admitted sheepishly. “So, if someone was trying to build a house, would it affect how well it was put together, or what the pony could do, depending on their cutie mark?”
“Absolutely! A cutie mark represents a pony’s special talent. If a pony’s cutie mark is a hammer, it means they excel at construction. The mark guides them to their true calling, and their passion and dedication determine the quality of their work. But that doesn’t mean your mark limits you to construction. Things like art can come naturally to you, or you can practice to create beautiful paintings.” Rarity paused and looked at me as if to add, “A cutie mark doesn’t lock a pony into anything. Anyone can learn to be amazing at anything they put their mind to over time. Cutie marks just represent what the pony loves most, what brings them joy and passion.
She smiled fondly at me as I nodded, still absorbing the concept. “My talent for finding beauty, my passion for elegance and style, is represented in a unique way that no pony has ever seen before. Creating works of fashion, making sure they are perfect, that is what my cutie mark represents and I am proud of it.”
“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. I felt like a child with wonder, discovering something new. That was so much more than what I had expected, “That’s pretty amazing.”
“Yes, indeed,” Rarity replied. “Every pony discovers their Cutie Mark at some point in their lives, a moment when they realize what truly makes them unique.” She paused and looked up at the sky as the sun set, its golden light swallowed by the darkness of the night. I saw her grow nervous and back away from the pond as she turned to face me. “Darling, may I ask, is the fish ready?”
The sudden change of subject caught me off guard, but I pointed my spear at the fire. “It should be done,” I replied. I watched as she used her magic to lift the cooked fish from the flames. The warm aroma of grilled fish wafted through the air, making Rarity’s stomach growl as she sat down.
Exhaustion set in as Rarity looked at the fish. The day’s events had left me exhausted, and the comforting ambiance of the bonfire and the delicious smell of the fish were making me sleepy. Although I had intended to stay awake during the meal, the gentle warmth and soft sounds of the night lulled me into a peaceful slumber. The flickering flames were the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.
Rarity watched nervously as Arctic Heart slowly lowered himself to the ground. The flickering campfire highlighted the exhaustion on his face, his breathing slowed, the steady rhythm of sleep lulling him until he gave in. Now that she saw him fast asleep, Rarity’s heart pounded in her chest. Her eyes searched the blackness outside the light of the campfire.
She had learned in her short time in this land that there was no natural light at night, no light from the stars, no light from the moon. Instead, there was an oppressive darkness that shrouded the land in a veil, with only the fire shining through. She waited for it to go out and consume her. She was so focused on it that she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard her stomach growling, the panic making her forget that she had not even eaten the fish yet.
Keeping her eyes on the approaching darkness, she magically tore off a piece of the fish and placed it in her mouth. The first bite was an unexpected pleasure. She chewed slowly, savoring the flavor that unfolded on her taste buds. Normally, fish for ponies had to be prepared with herbs and vegetables to bring out the full flavor of the fish. But it was surprisingly tangy and slightly spicy, a soothing spice dancing on her tongue. Rarity would be fussy with her fish, but this was beyond what she expected. Either Arctic Heart knew how to grill a fish, or this one was special.
Her mouth watered as she savored the flavors dancing on her taste buds. Closing her eyes, Rarity let the moment sink in, savoring the exquisite taste before she swallowed. The warmth of the grilled fish lingered, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. Tearing off another piece, she couldn’t help but marvel at the unexpected pleasure of a simple meal cooked over a campfire.
Rarity relished it until she felt something different in the air. Opening her eyes, she stared into the darkness. The feeling of nervousness returned as she stood up, her ears pricked as she listened intently. A whisper, an unintelligible whisper, but there it was. Every night those whispers would be barely audible. As if someone was trying to speak to her from afar. But now it’s as if said creature is standing in front of her. Hidden in the darkness encircling the light from the fire.
Rarity’s horn glowed brighter, creating an aura that hovered over her like a spotlight. With each step, she drew her eyes forward, drawing closer to the whispers until she saw something at the edge of her light. A snout, barely visible but a pony’s snout, poked out of the darkness. It was transparent, black as a shadow, seamlessly blending into the night.
“Hello,” Rarity’s voice was a mixture of caution and curiosity as she approached the pony. The whispering continued. Her eyes strained to make out more details until the light revealed it fully. It was a pony, but not really - only the general outline and shape. Its body lacked detail, except for the face with two holes where eyes should be. No lips, yet she could hear whispers coming from it.
Rarity’s initial curiosity turned to unease as her light revealed the pony-shaped shadow. The two empty holes where eyes should have been remained fixed on her, seeming to follow her every move as she carefully circled around it. The face may be emotionless, but she could feel it staring into her soul.
“Arctic Heart,” Rarity’s voice called urgently, glancing quickly back toward the glow of the campfire only to see a shadowy hand hovering over the flames. In an instant, the shadow grabbed hold of the fire, its light extinguished as darkness quickly took over. Fear gripped her heart as she desperately cried out Arctic Heart’s name.
“Arctic Heart, wake up!” I jerked awake at the sound of Rarity’s scream. My eyes snapped open to find her standing over me, her eyes wide with fear. Bits and pieces of my dream clung to my mind, quickly fading as I looked around. The fire was out, and the only light around us was the small one that shone over Rarity. Instinctively, I reached for my spear, my senses heightened as I scanned the shadows for any sign of danger.
“What happened, why is the fire out?” I asked, confusion and concern in my voice as I thrust my spear into the darkness. Rarity looked at me with a mixture of fear and distress, her eyes shifting nervously as her horn cast another light, replacing the one above her head when it went out.
“I-I don’t know,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “There was... A hand-shaped shadow hovering over the fire. As soon as I saw it, it put out the flames.” Rarity’s eyes darted around, as if searching for something hiding in the dark. “Darling, I don’t know if you can sense it in the air. But I sense that something is here. Magic that feels familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“You mean there is a presence here?” I furrowed my brow, a feeling of unease settling in. I pricked my ears, trying to listen for something, but all I could hear was Rarity’s breathing and my own. “I don’t hear anything, the forest is dead quiet.”
“It’s there, darling,” Rarity said, her voice a mixture of concern and fear. “I’ve felt it every night, especially in places where there is little light. It was always at a distance, but believe me, don’t linger in the dark. Whenever shadows surrounded me, I could feel the magic approaching. We must get the fire ablaze again,” she turned to me, “I can’t maintain this light indefinitely.
Feeling the urgency in Rarity’s words, I quickly reached for my pack, hoping to find some sticks and grass to relight the fire. My paws felt the cold skin of rocks as I dug through it, but that was all I could feel. Panic flashed across my face as I realized the predicament we were in. “I’m out of sticks and grass,” I admitted, “but I remember seeing tall grass behind us. Stay close and keep the light on.”
I turned as Rarity moved to my side as I walked into the darkness. Each step felt like a blind stumble in the dark as I kept to the edge of the light, my surroundings illuminated just enough for me to make out the shapes of the tall grass. I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the panic that built up as I reached for it. I held the spear in my right hand,as I grabbed the grass with my left. Using the weapon like a pair of scissors, I sliced through the tall grass with quick strokes. Clumps of it now in my grip, I moved on to the next tuft of grass.
I cut through two more clumps of grass until I had a paw full. I looked back at Rarity and saw her pacing nervously as the light above her flickered. “I’ve had enough,” I called, the urgency in my voice clear. But just as I approached with the grass, the light above Rarity continued to fade until it went out completely. Panic flooded my mind as darkness surrounded us.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Rarity’s voice quivered, her horn flickering weakly as she tried to produce another source of light. I could hear her breathing quicken as I stumbled to get my footing. The fur on my back stood on end as I felt something brush past me. A cold touch sent a shiver down my spine. My ears strained to hear any sound, no footsteps, no breath but mine and Rarity’s. Just a breeze that made my fur stand on end, but I could feel that something was close.
My heart pounded as my ears picked up a distant sound, like a low rhythmic hum. I could hear it more clearly as it came closer and closer. Something was wrong with it, it was distorted with a whisper. Once calm, it was now warped and erratic, like a melody gone awry. A shiver ran down my spine, I could hear it as if it were right in front of me. It’s humming now grating against my ears as I extend my spear, trying to feel for something to swing it at.
I could feel nothing, but I could hear it. So I raise my right arm and swing the spear down. The stone tip connected with nothing but the dirt below. There was silence for a second before the hum turned into an unholy shriek. I instinctively raised my arms above my head, my ears ringing as I reflexively closed my eyes, waiting for the thing to strike me.
But the sound was gone, the buzzing and whispering gone in an instant. The cold chill of the air was gone when I opened my eyes. Light shone over me, pushing the darkness back far enough for me to see my two paws again. I turned to Rarity, another ball of light passing over her, this one a little brighter than the last.
“Darling, I would strongly suggest that you rekindle the fire. I simply can’t maintain this illumination indefinitely,” her voice carried a hint of exhaustion, as if the energy had been drained from her. Without wasting any more time, I took the grass to the fire pit, threw it in and pulled out a flint and a rock from my bag. A spark ignites the flames, creating a warm glow around us.
“Any longer and I would have fainted,” Rarity explained, a hint of exhaustion in her voice. I turned to her, a frown on my face as I did so. “Don’t worry about me, dear. My magic seems to be less potent in this environment, which makes it harder for me, at least until I get used to it. I’ll be myself again after a short rest.”
I nodded and opened a pouch in my pack. My paws traced the familiar texture of an old diary. It was my personal diary, its pages filled with thoughts and sketches, a link to my world before I was sucked into this strange one. The only thing that came with me when I was pulled in. Secured in the rings that bound the pages together was a number two pencil.
I opened to a blank page, the pencil ready in my right paw, when my eyes fell on Rarity. She was fast asleep, curled up on her side like a contented cat. An adorable sight that begged to be immortalized on the page. With a gentle smile, I began to sketch, capturing the moment in the lines of my journal. The comforting familiarity of my sketches calmed my nerves and brought peace against the uncertainty of this world.
