Night In The Neverfree

Scootaloo trotted across the empty path leading into The Everfree, her hoof steps echoed high into the treetops as all light had been blocked out by the overgrowth of the forest. Midday felt closer to midnight than anything else, the child wondered if the flier promising twenty bits a day for “Help” was worth it.

The tiny pegasus came to a large block in the path, thorns grew around bushes and trees. She tilted her head to the side to make out a detour, yet could only see the twisted growth of this dark place.

Wondering if she should turn back, the child spun around, the dark outline of a pony atop a nearby hill catching her attention. Bleak eyes and a shadowy frame gave haste as it bolted off, the figure too fast for a pony.

Scootaloo swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing off the main path and into the tangled woods around her. Her violet-colored hues kept watch for the stranger, she could feel thorns and branches tear at her coat like monstrous claws.

She let out small yelps of pain, blood from the scratches forming across her body trickling down towards the ground. Each new scratch stung like a lashing from a whip, she tried to call out but felt the words trapped in her throat.

Bursting out of the brush with many new cuts across her small frame, she came muzzle first to a small cozy cabin lost within the middle of this horrible place. Smoke wafted from the chimney giving hope that somepony was home, her tiny legs carried her over to the old wooden door.

“Knock-knock” Her delicate hooves pounded across the oak frame, and the sound of her breathing started to calm as she waited for a reply.

“Hello, I’m Scootaloo. I’m looking to answer a flier for help?” She spoke in a soft melody, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

“I think... somepony might be out here? Can you please open up?” Scootaloo tapped her tiny hooves across the frame again.

She could feel those bleak eyes gazing into her soul, she swung around to catch a glimpse of the shadow. Yet she could see nothing but dying woods for miles, those eyes hidden somewhere deep within forever watching.

The pony was close, she could feel it, blending in with the death around it. Taking joy in the fear it brought the small child, the filly helpless but to just stand out in the open shivering wildly. Her hoof lifted to smack the door, echoes wafting about to deaf ears.

“Anypony home!?” She spoke in a loud and frightened tone, walking over to a dust-covered window and glancing inside curiously.

“Thwack!” The loud pop of an ax slammed down right next to the child's head, slicing deep into the window sill like melted butter.

“Ahhh!”

“Whatcha doing buddy?” An odd older mare giggled as she towered over the child.

She rested a hoof against the shaft of the ax in a playful manner, watching the child fall to the ground with a thud.

“Did you try to hit me with an ax!?” Scootaloo felt her heart race deep within her chest wildly, threatening to explode out into the open at any second.

“Phst, No! I always slam my ax there.” The mare gave a loud snort as she flaunted a hoof to the sill, indeed many ax gashes could be seen across the surface.

Scootaloo gave a soft groan as she fell back onto the cold moist ground. Her eyes gazed at the hidden sky above, as she took a minute to collect herself from the scare. The mint mare cantering over with a smile, glancing down to the child shaking her head amused.

“You must be Scootalong?”

“Loo”

“Ah, Loo right! Well, I’m Lyra Heartstrings, but you may call me friend.” Lyra gave a soft wink and helped the child back to her feet.

“I thought you lived…”

“Lived in town? I do, but my marefriend Sweetie is hosting a La-de-da!”

“La-de-da?”

“A fancy pants party! I of course didn’t want any of that, so I’m holding up in our spare cabin for the weekend.” Lyra gave a small stretch as she galloped over to the front door, using her light green magic to float a key down from the roof.

“Um, what is it that you need help with?”

“I need a friend.”

“Umm.”

“I hate being out in the woods alone, so I thought what better way to meet new ponies than a flier!”

“...”

“So yeah. No jobs really, I just need somepony to talk with and help me scarf down some junk food.”Lyra unlocked the door with a soft click, simply tossing the key back onto the roof afterward.

Scootaloo tilted her head to the side unsure what to think about this, taking a few steps forward she peeked into the cabin. Within was a cozy set up for a weekend getaway, the fireplace had a dwindling flame and freshly bought supplies were set atop a nearby table.

The filly inched within as the mare closed the door behind her with a soft click. The cabin was in great condition and very clean with various knick-knacks lining the wall. Scootaloo blinked confused at a wall to the left, across every inch of it were photos of just Lyra alone at different locations across Equestria.

“Why are you alone in all the…” Scootaloo scrunched her muzzle, seeing a large self-portrait painted to the right, the mare flashing a forced duckface upon it.

“This is my little getaway, I call this wall “The Me Machine!”.” Lyra giggled and softly inched the portrait to the side to keep it centered.

“...”

“I painted this one by hoof on a warm winter day…” Lyra gave a soft sigh and spun to face the filly, her eyes locked upon the many cuts covering her guest.

“Well, aren't you roughed up!? Follow me and I’ll clean you up." The mare ruffled the mane of the child, galloping off into the kitchen at top speed and vanishing near the corner.

“Uhhh.”

“C’mon, pokey!” Lyra poked her head out from the corner, her ears twitching in place cutely.

Scootaloo took each step slowly into the kitchen, an odd smell wafting from someplace nearby as she lifted a hoof to cover her muzzle. Eyes falling to a loose plank of wood on the floor, a very dull almost black substance covering the edges.

Her attention was pulled back into reality as Lyra lunged out at her from a small bathroom. It was tucked away near the kitchen, a single-lit candle keeping it in view. Lyra couldn’t help but giggle at the cute filly, watching her back up and curl into a ball near the corner frightened.

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat! I come bearing health!” Lyra gave a squee holding up a small white rag and an old jar of yellow liquid.

“I’m fine really.” Scootaloo gave a weary giggle as the mare inched close, popping open the jar and dabbing the rag into the odd warm liquid.

“Don’t be a silly filly! If you don’t use some of this, you are just asking for trouble.” The mare gave a soft coo, gently dabbing the rag onto the cuts covering the child’s hooves.

Scootaloo winced as her ears folded back, it was warm and stung her many scratches. Yet left a tingling and cool sensation behind, she had to admit it did feel nice after the fact. Standing in place she allowed the mare to gently dab the wounds, a sweet and gentle hum lifting into the air.

“So what made you think this job was right for you?” Lyra broke the soft hymn with a question, eyes locked upon her work and not the child.

“I just like helping other ponies,” Scootaloo replied as her head turned away, looking out a nearby window as the sun began to set.

“Oh, is that so!? The bits mean nothing to you?” Lyra gave a firm dab onto a large cut, causing the child to wince slightly.

“I guess it’s good pay…”

“Going to buy a new toy?” She scraped roughly across a bleeding cut.

“No…”

“Eat lots of candy?” The mare pressed her hoof hard against the smaller hoof, the pressure causing the child to fold her ears back.

“Ow…”

“Maybe go out and just get something you don’t need,” Lyra spoke in a stern and harsh tone of voice, sending a shiver down the child’s backside.

“No! I need the bits to help my family!” Scootaloo yelped as she pulled away from the mare, curling up in her corner and fighting back a flood of tears.

“Oh!” Lyra bit her lower lip, floating a long stream of bandages across the air that very tenderly wrapped around the child’s hooves.

The mare folded her ears back and trotted out of the kitchen, leaving the jar open and the rag thrown onto the floor. Scootaloo gave a glance down at her freshly bandaged hooves, taking a small moment to gather her thoughts and calm her soul.

“Thud!”

“Thud!”

“Whack!!”

The filly eased herself into the dining area, the mare sitting on a nearby chair. Her head banged up and down on the oak table, her forehead turning a dull red color as each smack became harder.

“What are you doing?” Scootaloo spoke up in worry, the mare continuing to bash herself before going limp.

“Lyra?” She spoke in a shivering tone, her hooves carrying her a bit closer to the mare.

Lyra never gave a movement, her body as still as the dark and cloudless sky outside. Scootaloo extended a hoof to the mare, her tiny touch pressing in on her side for any sign of life.

“Whut!?” Lyra grumbled aloud as the child jumped back. Her heart raced again as the mare lifted her head, a small stream of blood cascading down in front of her left eye.

“I…"

“Bits are right there.” She flaunted a hoof in front of herself.

The child glanced to the edge of the table, a bag overflowing with coins left out on the wooden surface.

“That's more than twenty.”

“It’s five hundred.”

“Why?”

“You need help.”

“Are you ok?”

“I need...yes.”

“You sound sad.”

“Sweetie is gone…”

“What about the party?”

“Gone…”

“I…”

“I’m sorry I told a lie, she left me today...I don’t want to be alone.” Lyra folded her ears back, hiding her muzzle away on the table surface again.

“I won’t leave you.” Scootaloo inched closer to the mare, nuzzling her muzzle on her side tenderly.

“They all leave.”

“I won’t...I promise.”

The mare lifted her head again, eyes weak and broken as if full of a deep internal conflict. Lyra gave a small huff as she lifted a hoof, the child cuddling in close as she gave the mare a warm hug.

Peace filled the air around them, the night had finally fallen completely silent.

It brought the warmth of friendship if only Lyra could open her heart and accept it.