The lonely freak of a mare, and the burnt husk of a stallion that shouldn't have met.

The lightning would burst through the gaps between the old straw roof, and the wind would follow soon after. Through her thin blanket, the terrified mare huddled against the wall furthest from the door, desperately trying to hide under the only thing she had left of her old life from the village.

‘The rain hasn’t started…’ She thought while squeezing her eyes shut after every loud bang that would follow the lightning. Every storm from her experience always had rain, and it would be a matter of time given how dangerous this storm sounded.

The walls shook once again with the fury of the angriest bear around, pushing all of the hoof made bowls and jars off their perch, and crashing to the ground. Celeste flinched with each sharp explosion, but still refused to look upon the destruction herself if it meant looking up from the corner she sought refuge in.

The rain never did follow behind the lighting even as the wind rocked her disheveled hut for the remainder of the night. Yet, somewhere during the flashing lights, and loud explosions in the far off distance the abnormal mare found the embrace of sleep.

When Celeste finally came to, the morning sun had already begun piercing her thin blanket, and forced the aging mare up to examine the ruins of her hut. The broken shards of her clay bowls and jars laid scattered over the dirt with their contents mixed in between, burying the broken shards so they could harm any unassuming pony not paying attention. Her cauldron, the other surviving item brought with them when escaping into the woods had been knocked off its wood perch, and lay lopsided in the ashes of her cooking fire- the rocks that made the cooking pit were either broken or pushed aside.

Her makeshift door of fastened vines, and old wood had been left utterly wrecked, and dangling in the frame to the point it couldn’t be salvaged for anything but firewood. As if to mock the lack of a door, it seemed the wind itself was carrying the sunlight into her ruined hut before quickly departing through the mess of vines that was her door before, escaping toward the lake she would often bathe in. Her terrific eyesight could see the very wind hitting the water to create its rippling effect as it morphed from one element into another, leaving Celeste feeling beaten, and useless.

Seeing no other choice, she began dragging her massive wings along the ground, the broken feathers began scooping up broken shards before corralling the grounded powers and seeds into a pile next to her fire pit. She continued this trend of using her wings to sweep up the mess, moving in a circular pattern around the room until she finally had all of the mess gathered into a single large pile by the dead fire. The shards of clay were carefully grounded down with her forehooves until they were no bigger than small pebbles, and using her wings, Celeste shoved the pile into the fire pit. Clumsily, she managed to manipulate her magic to set the wood perch while using her earth pony strength, a staple in her continued survival, lifted the old cauldron out of wood ash, and placed it into the worn groves.

She took the opportunity to salvage the timber from her ruined door, saving what vines she could, and placing them on the floor by the opening by gathering them into a pile. The gathered wood was then placed underneath the cauldron to be used as the kindling for day’s fire. This was started when Celeste placed her left hoof next to the broken wood scraps, dried herbs now crumbled to literal dust, and everything else that had been in her jars was.

Celeste struck the outreached hoof with her right hoof.

The blow was powerful, but years of practice limited the stress on both hooves with the slightest chipping along the edge nearest the ground. It had taken Celeste many tries to perfect this technique to avoid cracking her hooves anymore; the first time the strange mare damaged her had left her limping for nearly a month as the hoof itself needed to completely fall off, before any real growth could happen. Nowadays, this pain was only a memory like everything else in her life.

The strike proved fruitful for three sparks shined brightly as they landed among the kindling, already eager to start a fire as they took root among the dry, and rotted kindling. The mare leaned close to examine her work, and gave the kindling a quick exhale of good air to give it the push needed to sprout a nice flame. Her reward was the hissing of a newly born flame, and the crackling of wood becoming ash; Satisfied the flame would stick, she walked through the new hole in her hut and gave her wings a mighty flap to rid them of any of the accumulated dust, and sighed.

Her hut may be in order for the moment, but the outside had taken the brunt of the strange storm last night. Thankfully, most of the trees surrounding her ‘territory’ had held strong, but a few submitted to the strong winds, or in one case the lighting, and fell dangerously close to her hut with majority of the damage being the area she’d used for cultivation.

The casualty here was the very hard to find wild berry bushes that had been gathered and replanted over a span of several seasons.

Celeste managed to save and replant the few that hadn’t been flattened, but almost lost the strength to stand when she noticed the rows of wild carrots, and alfalfa that had been taken as well. There was going to be a great deal of work ahead of her with the lost of most her crops, and the sooner she began replanting the better.

Resigned to her fate, Celeste went to grab the bucket that thankfully had been left inside her hut, and made her way down to the lake to grab some water for the cauldron. She repeated this trip a total of four times before she was satisfied she had enough water to drink, and to cook before setting the bucket back inside the hut. While the trips were necessary for her continued survival, it couldn’t prevent the unnatural pony from seeing her reflection in the water, further souring her mood.

Every time Celeste made the trip for water it always reminded her how pale her snow-like fur was- a bad omen to resemble the snow wraiths that nearly destroyed ponykind. Her dangerously thin, and long horn prominently growing out of her head, or how her strangely useful wings resembled the dying tree branches then the dangerous limbs her mother described. While her wings weren’t used for flying more than sweeping, she found limited uses for her horn that didn’t involve trying to impale fish- once had been enough.

The downtrodden mare watched as the water began boiling before leaving the hut to examine the tree limbs that had destroyed her harvest, and using that earth pony pride, pushed them out of her designated fields. Celeste did this to the other limbs around her living area until the space had been cleared before examining the extensive damage to her crop, and deciding what to do from there. Just as it had looked, the crops were completely ruined save for the carrots that had only been pushed further underground, and could still be picked. A blessing by Epona herself.

The biggest loss had been the berry bushes as she thought had provided much of the taste to her meals, and this late into the season(given how animals of this place were fattening up) meant even if she were to find another bush, the berries would likely have been eaten already.

“I really don’t want to eat fish…” Celeste gagged at the idea. Her mother had been the braver of the two, and resorted to meat eating during the first couple of years when food had gotten scarce.

She remembered the smell the most, and somehow always found a way to remind her of those years when she least expected, but those eyes! They would never blink, but the soulless beads would stare at her as her mother tried to remove the scales with her forehooves. Little memories like that had never left her mind, and even now just thinking of fish was enough to make her fall over and try to lose what little she had eaten last night.

‘It’s settled. I’ll pick the carrots later, but I need to try finding more berries sooner than later.’ She thought already fighting the urge to bend over and vomit.

The overworked mare looked toward the sun, and found it high in the cloudless sky. Celeste pondered her options leaning heavily into accepting what bushes she had were enough for a moment, until fears of hunger made her empty stomach growl with disapproval. If she left now, there was a chance she could reach the grove with the bushes before the sun fell and the moon rose. But the risk here would leave her in the forest at night…

Against all warnings, Celeste didn’t start her search during the sunlit hours, but waited until she was sure the fire to heat the cauldron was small enough to leave unattended without spreading to consume her home. This meant the sun was already in mid descent toward the other side of the forest when the loony mare decided it was time to venture into the dark, and frightening forest to look for berry bushes.

With nothing holding her back, she traveled through the forest path just wide enough for her tall and wide frame to comfortably follow toward the place she found a few bushes before. Celeste hoped there would be a few bushes left to bring a couple back with her so she could replant them by her hut. Depending on how many berry bushes, she was willing to do this tomorrow at first light.

Having spent a great many years in this place, Celeste knew better than to travel unprotected and had brought along a small knife she had found during her wanderings. The blade was rusted, and dull, but its presence helped to ease her fears by providing that sense of protection during her near occasional forging expeditions. Even with this weapon, Celeste knew better than to completely drop her guard for the woods could be fickle.

The stress from these outings contributed greatly to the desire to replant these bushes closer to her hut if it would limit her ventures into the forest. Stress and a hunger for the normalcy of her daily life spurred the increasingly worried mare further into the darkening forest.

This predictability gave Celeste the comfort lacking in her life since her father was forcibly taken to serve in the local levy, and the passing of her mother. Knowing what the day would bring, and what was needed to be done had helped the mare cope with her dangerous life, at the questionable expense of fearing the civilization she’d once been a part of.

“Nothing is ever easy.” She whispered out of habit to hear a pony voice, even if it was her own. It did nothing to ease her nerves under the cluttered forest canopy.

The trees grew thicker in both width, and density the longer her expedition took, yet this was a good sign for the berry bushes she sought only grew in the deepest parts of the forest. Their initial discovery had been completely by chance, and Celeste credited her earth pony heritage as the sole reason for them being able to flourish by her hut. She was thankful the area around she claimed was relatively peaceful else growing food wouldn’t be a possibility, meaning forging trips would have been a constant must.

Survival wouldn’t be an almost guarantee anymore if that were the case, yet living in the forest did allow a pony to grow accustomed to reading its mood: by touch, and scent.

Each of these allowed her to peer into the forest’s mood if one knew how to read them, but in her mind it was enough for the forest to see her presence as a boon. Her hope is that by her continued cultivation, the forest might come to see her as a part of the forest instead of another outsider. So far, this hasn't stopped the wildlife from attacking, yet she knew like her they had to eat, and the forest didn’t care how they did.

It was under this mixed blessing Celeste was allowed to travel the forest the way she did, so long she respected the rules set by the old forest. Unbeknownst to the freak pony the forest had been hurt by the rouge lighting storm it knew wasn't natural, but pony made. After finally listening to what its inhabitants had been saying all along, the forest finally revoked the limited protection placed upon the mare, and her dead mother.

The storm wasn’t caused by her hooves, but it served as an important reminder she didn’t belong.

As Celeste continued down the same worn trail she’d always taken when needing to venture further into the deeper forest, and excluding the rare encounter with one of its inhabitants nothing ever happened. Usually. This trip had been no different so far, but Celeste could feel something was wrong the further she trotted down the path. This unknown feeling caused the fur along her spine bristling the longer she spent on the trail, and further compounding this growing unease, the worried mare had noted the trees along the path appeared to be changing.

Trees come in all shapes, yet these trees were looking more than a tree should- almost angry.

Shuttering at the thought, she pressed on hoping to reach the berry patch before sundown, but this hope was ruined when she looked toward the sky. The light peeking through the canopy wasn’t the bright and happy sun that woke her this morning, but the dimming red of a dying fire cooling after a long day of burning brightly- she didn’t have much time. Her past ventures into the deeper forest never took this long, nor have they filled her with such dread.

Night would be upon her faster than she could blink, and the understanding she’d somehow been tricked by the forest to aimless wandering caused the freak pony to panic!

“The forest betrayed me!” She couldn’t help, but yelled as she quickened her pace in the faint hope she could break the forest’s hold over her, and find the way out.

Celeste was galloping down the trail like a frightened animal running a predator when the first misfortune of the newly minted night struck.

In her desperation to escape the unseen, her left wing clipped the side of a nearby tree that had been reaching out, and instead of stopping to untangle the limb, she jerked it free, and destroyed nearly all the damaged feathers in the process. Her nostrils could pick up the faintest whiff of blood when she brought her wing closer to quickly examine it, and the smell alone sent her galloping again with no regard for the berry bushes.

‘Blood would attract predators!’ Celeste internally screamed as she dashed, and maneuvered through the thickening forest.

Terror and instinct are a dangerous combination in normal circumstances, but in a forest known to be extremely dangerous? It becomes deadly. Celeste’s mind was overcome with this concoction being injected into her subconscious, an overhanging feeling that nipped at her heels to keep running from the unseen enemy. The berry bushes were forgotten, left crushed by the metaphorical tree…

“I’M SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN IT!” Celeste cried between her growing sobs, and desperate gasps for air. She yelled another pathetic apology hoping it would appease the forest for whatever wrong she’d committed.

The forest only howled in response.

The quicker she galloped, the more she cried from the pain of her injured wing, and the stress of the situation wishing she had said ‘hogwash’ and never left the safety of her hut. That chance was growing smaller the longer she stayed in the forest, but no matter which direction she galloped, the forest would always look the same- an endless path with no end. She made another left, dashed between the tree guarding this path, and then took a right, left, straight ahead for several gallops, and then nearly stumbled when she smelt blood in the air.

Celeste backpedaled, and tripped over an now exposed root. She tried ignoring the tree, but realized it was the one she’d collided with earlier because its low hanging branches still held her blooded feathers between them. Pushing herself away from the tree, Celeste scrambled back onto her tired hooves only to bolt back the way she came from trying to escape, yet the more she ran, twisted and turned, the tree would always bar her path. This constant maneuvering left the frightened pony exhausted, and unable to do anything but whimper, and try again.

During yet another attempt to escape something got tangled between her hooves, and casing a glance back, her eyes became wide seeing the proof the forest had betrayed her.

A tree stuck another root out, and caught her during mid stride sending the distressed pony toward the ground with a hard pop. The impact forced out what little air was left in her lungs leaving the mangled mare gasping for air between her choked sobs, and failed attempts to stand back up. The pain was all over, and the moment Celeste tried standing on her left forehoof was the moment she realized she couldn't, but that didn’t matter. Fear propelled her forward despite her body’s protests to stop and rest for a bit.

With a possibly broken hoof, and tattered wing being the only things she had to show for today's adventure, Celeste was already adamant this would be the last time she ever left the safety of her hut again- if she survived. The injuries and exhaustion were finally catching up to her, but the will to survive kept her hooves moving even when it seemed the forest was moving in on her…

“GET DOWN!”

The scream knocked her senseless, but obeyed the warning regardless either on instinct or some installed desire to listen.

No sooner had she hit the ground was her vision consumed by a blinding white light accompanied with a blazing heat so hot, it singed her entire back- then there was the thunder. It was worse than the previous night. Its roar deafened her ears even when they were firmly pressed against her head as it struck the forest around her! Pieces of wood pelted her charred back, and injured wing, almost like the forest was still trying to further injure the poor mare. Celeste continued believing this as several large chunks from the trees pierced her rear leg, and a large chunk hit the back of her head.

Celeste couldn’t even fully process her torment when something firmed came under her shoulder and proceeded to drag her forward. Immediately, her eyes opened and proceeded to fight back by digging her rear hooves into the ground, but the pain in her right thigh scurried up her charred back like little mites swarming her sensitive skin. She relented to the pain, and fell forward.

“GET UP! By Hurricane’s Might, you will move freak!” Commanded the voice that wasn’t her own.

Her dilated eyes struggled to correct themselves when another yank pulled Celeste onto her tired forehooves, and jerked her forward again. Her vision was momentarily restored enough for Celeste to make out the pony shape yanking on her left forehoof and gasped at her abductor!

He stood only half her height, and had wings much like her own- mangled and possibly broken. She could see their stockier frame marking him as a stallion, and if circumstances were different she might have gawked! The only stallion she could remember seeing was her own father, but that had been many seasons past, and since her mother’s passing hadn’t seen another pony.

Yet he was a pegasus, and even with her extra appendages was an earth pony making him the enemy. Right as she was going to stand her ground and fight did the stallion reach toward his chest and withdraw something blindingly bright! She shunned its brightness, and before she could recover the sound of lighting and thunder once more dominated the world around her.

As the earth and tree bark pelted her damaged body once more did the hooves return trying to drag her way. There was a commotion, but Celeste could only hear mumbled responses- she briefly thought she was underwater when it gradually faded into a high pitched ringing before the stallion’s shouting became clear.

“...cow! You wan ta perish then so be it!” His voice sounded wet for a moment, and the sound of him spitting confirmed it.

She smelt blood but couldn’t tell if it was hers or possibly his, but then the hooves forfeit their hold of her allowing Celeste to fall to the ground again. This time she struggled to pick up her exhausted, and battered body, crying as her rear leg gave out, but continued extracting herself from the earth. The stallion backed away, and she noted how his posture was low, but didn’t move as she stood on shaky hooves.

Celeste looked back and almost cried when she saw the charred, but still burning woods around, consuming the woods and to her horror the scattered remains of timberwolves. Her gaze turned to the trees and the sight nearly made her fall stumble back as what she had taken for a tree was the burning remains of a Greater Alpha.

“Wha..” She jumped back when the stallion began coughing, and flinched as the muscles in her rear leg contracted, sending a renewed burst of pain up along her spine.

The stallion’s coughing grew more violent until he was struggling to stand or breathe. Celeste wasn’t sure what to do as he finally fell to the earth, and when the splatters of blood began painting the earth did she understand the severity of the situation- he was dying. The urge to help was great, yet years of isolation and earth pony upbringing held back her hoof for those vital seconds.

He was still breathing, but each expulsion of air carried with it more of his blood. The deadly orb the pegasus had used to summon the lighting laid beside him, mimicking his breathing, as its light flickered ever dimmer, but still gave enough for her to see his condition. Many years of conditioning were being fought at this very moment as Celeste’s selfless nature wanted to surface and save not only the first pony she’d seen in years, but had saved her life. The pegasus’s chest was growing still the longer she waited, and even with the urgency, it took the scraping of moving branches and dismembered bark trying to knit themselves together for the freak to make a choice.

Her wounded flank still leaked blood, but it was the bark digging further into her muscles that left the leg all but dragging as she scooped up the dying pegasus, and fought to keep him from falling over. Celeste’s breath hitched as she hissed in raw pain as the pegasus was dropped onto her charred back, but there was no other way to safely transport him without dragging his body.

Using her magic, she struggled to carry the orb next to her as she lamely began retracing her steps in the hopes it would lead her back to her hut. With the Timberwolves’ magic broken, there was a good chance the forest would show mercy, and allow her to leave, or so she desperately hoped.