Survival Against All Odds

Swirling Gale was flying back from a routine patrol of Equestria’s seafront. Wind drifted between her feathers as each powerful wing flap brought her forwards. This kind of patrol was redundant. Equestria hadn't had any real enemies in a thousand years and those it had wouldn't be stopped by three lone pegasi. Still, Swirling Gale loved her job as guard. Nowhere else could she get paid to fly around Equestria watching all the beautiful parts of nature blurred beneath her. Any pegasus half good at flying would notice every little detail on the ground when she was flying but Swirling preferred to let them be more of a blur so that a single memory could capture a whole flight.

She flew with Private Blossom and Lieutenant Drift at her side, each were adorned with the traditional golden suit of armour that all guards were expected to wear when on duty. In reality, it mostly burdened them as they drifted through the wind.

Scanning the ground below, nothing stood out to her. Normal trees, normal rivers and normal hills. Everything was remarkably ordinary. As it always was every time they flew this route. It was so unmistakably ordinary that when it did come she almost missed it.

Taking a double take, she glanced back at the sands far below her. It was unmistakable. Three letters spelt out clearly on the coast. SOS.

“Lieutenant?” Swirling called out, “I found something.”

Instantly, the two pegasi stopped and hoovered beside her.

“Yes, Private?” Drift replied, a little surprised by the statement, “What did you see?”

She pointed downwards with a hoof. “Right there, looks like a sign of some kind.”

“SOS?” Drift wondered, “what kind of message is that?”

“Maybe they didn't finish? Or some of it got washed away?”

"What words start with sos though?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Doesn't have to start with it," Blossom disputed, "You could have Isosceles, Espressos..."

“On a beach? More likely it's an acronym,” Swirling interrupted.

"Who knows?" Blossom kept listing, "Torsos? Lassos?"

"Why don't we just go have a look?" Swirling asked.

The Lieutenant nodded his approval and the three pegasi prepared to descend. Abruptly changing their flight to an expertly coordinated fall, the pegasi continued downwards. They plummeted for a few seconds before their steep dives turned into soft landings and the pegasi expertly touched down beside the message in the sand.

“Alright everypony,” the Lieutenant ordered, “let's get the area swept. Leave no stone unturned.”

"What about mesosphere?" Blossom asked.

"Not helpful," the Lieutenant ordered, "Get looking for clues."

Blossom begrudgingly accepted, muttering to herself, "I didn't think it was that bad."

They searched the beach rapidly, fanning out to scan every part as quickly as possible.

“Sir?” Swirling called out, “I've found something.”

“What is it?” Drift flapped his way over.

“Some kind of message,” Swirling reported, “awful hoofwriting but it's legible.”

“Help. Moving… something… follow the…” Drift struggled to read.

“Most of the message has been destroyed,” Blossom analysed, poking his hoof at the tideline, “what kind of idiot writes something important in sand.”

“Maybe they're dying,” Swirling theorised, “would explain the poor decision making.”

“More likely they're stressed,” Drift countered, “no one half dead could haul this much wood from the wood to make a message. Must've been a unicorn at any rate; doing something like this by hoof would take half a day.”

“‘Help is pretty clear though,” Swirling said, “we've got to send out a search party.”

“I found something else,” Blossom yelled over to them, gesturing to a pile of objects. What exactly they were was unclear. Metal boxes made up most of it and none of it looked even remotely usable.

“Looks like a bunch of junk,” Drift assessed, “leave it here with everything else. We've got to go and report this.”

With the lieutenant's order, the three pegasi leapt back into the sky, ready to report the enigma to their princess.

Morning broke across the endless treeline. Rough and jagged, dirt made for a poor bed. Isabel lay there for a second, wings sprawled out across uneven rocks and grit rubbed into her fur. Still felt strange to call it that, she should have skin not fur though every hour that passed it seemed more and more natural.

Forcing herself off the ground, she shook the grit from her wings. Everyone else was still asleep, though each tossed and turned like a fish out of water. Another day of hiking would begin once they rose but Isabel didn't think about that. She was again focused on mastering her knife work.

Carving better marks meant more chances of being found. More chances of being found meant a way home. Getting home… Well that's what all of them wanted wasn’t it?

Soon, the others began to wake. Each uttering their own curses towards the quality of the rest.

“Rough night too?” Oscar asked Aiden who was lying nearby.

“Worst night ever,” Aiden complained, “hardly slept, kept waking up all the time, ground digging into me. I hate it out here.”

“Same,” Emma groaned, “never knew the ground could be so hard.”

“I'd rather lay on knives,” Aiden added, “at least their cuts you can see.”

“Same,” Henry echoed, “I can't stand rough nights; a few more of these and we'll all be covered in bruises.”

“Fur should help a little,” Oscar played at false optimism, “but clearly not enough. I'm not sure I could stand another of these nights either.”

Isabel thought it'd stop there but it didn't. There was back and forth about pointless sleep for half an hour or more. Infuriatingly wasteful. They didn't have forever to complain. Food was already a problem, they were in the middle of nowhere and it seemed that they were going to spend forever complaining that the ground wasn't as soft as a mattress.

"Stop complaining!" she eventually yelled, "I can't stand it. Yes, the ground doesn't make a great bed but we don't need to bleed daylight complaining. What we need is to get up, get ready and get going."

"Come on Isabel," Henry debated, voice reassuming it's naturally commanding tone, "Complaining helps us to take the edge of our suffering."

Isabel didn't look convinced. "Can you be a little quieter about it then?"

There was no response, but the arguing did stop, much to the relief of Isabel.

The one thing that hadn't been an issue for them was water. Inspecting the supplies, Isabel found every water bottle refilled. Hopefully the rest of the group had remembered to purify it last night before they'd gone to bed. Getting cholera was not on her bucket list.

If they rationed there might be a day's worth of food left between them. Two energy bars would hardly replace the calories they spent walking but she could, at least, survive a short while without food. Even if that meant staying in one place. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. She was convinced that if they just kept moving they were bound to find civilisation.

Now her friends had given up complaining about the sleep, they were worried about breakfast.

“How much food do we have?” Henry asked Isabel, “what can we spare?”

“We have two energy bars per person,” Isabel reported, “I say we eat one now and another tonight and try and find some berries or something along the way for tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” Henry grabbed one in his mouth.

Granola bars were shockingly hard to open without hands. It took tearing at the edges for a few minutes before anyone could reach the edible part inside. Isabel was so focused on trying to get her teeth into the right position, she'd taken her eyes off the knife.

Her heart stopped when she heard the cry of pain. Whipping her head around to face the source of the sound, she saw Emma holding the knife between her teeth. On her hoof was a sickening sight. Blood.

Isabel was quick to drop what she was doing and hurry over.

"Let me see it," Isabel said sternly, "why were you using the knife anyway?"

"I was trying to get this stupid thing open," she said, holding up her, now open, Granola bar, "don't worry, it's fine, just a little cut."

Isabel looked at the wound for a second. Emma was right, it looked a lot worse than it really was, but it showed just how dangerous that knife could be. Instantly she snapped it up with a wing.

"You've got to be careful," Henry said, "Isabel looks like she's got a good control of the knife, maybe we should leave all the cutting to her?"

Isabel nodded, then turned back to the blade. "I'm almost there, once I get a hang of using these wings properly, I'll be able to use the knife almost risk free."

Henry nodded to her and Isabel returned to the process of practicing carrying the knife with her new wings.

She'd tried imagining the ends of her wings were fingers but it didn’t really help. The ultimate result was similar but the process was entirely different so she had to develop an entirely new way of thinking about them. They weren’t fingers; they were feathers and she needed to treat them as such.

If she weren’t so focused on their survival, she might have even enjoyed being a pegasus. Whatever she’d felt last night when she was gliding was incredible. Going home meant giving that up and knowing that she would never learn if she could could truly soar. Maybe she shouldn’t-

What was she thinking? Of course she couldn’t stay here. She was a human not a pony. All of them needed to get home as quickly as possible. Before whatever was clouding her judgement could force her to stay.

After a few more minutes, and an awkward struggle to put their packs on, they set off once again in search of distant civilization. Emma's wound had been bandaged lightly; she said it was overkill but it was better to be sure. Tiresome and slow, the hike was much more difficult than yesterday. Isabel's legs felt sluggish and their motion was blurred. None of them had eaten or slept properly and all of them were hungry and tired. Energy was a priceless commodity. Where possible, Isabel managed to spur them onwards, reassuring everyone when necessary and stopping their progress from grinding to a screeching halt.

Phoebe was particularly prone to fear. Most of the group had been on overnight hikes before, Isabel had been on what seemed like hundreds of them, but this was Phoebe's first time. Isabel wished it could've gone differently, more like her first night away from home, under the stars with comfy canvas to protect her from the rain and cold. Phoebe didn't deserve this.

“You holding up alright?” Isabel asked, struggling to cut a mark into the tree beside her. It had gotten easier with her practice with her wings but it still wasn't easy. She'd need to remember to sharpen the knife when they next made camp, all this imprecise carving was probably not doing anything good for the blade.

Phoebe returned a weak smile at her question.

“Come on, talk to me,” Isabel encouraged, “the hike gets boring without talking.”

“I'm fine,” Phoebe lied, “just hungry.”

“Of course,” Isabel smiled, “the second I get home I'm going to eat everything in my cupboard.”

“Same,” she laughed. It was good to see her laugh. Everyone seemed to be suffering from a general depression that hung like a gloomy cloud over their efforts. Any laughter was more than welcome.

“Come on, let's catch up,” Isabel beckoned her forwards. Though Isabel had hardly noticed them dropping behind the others, now they were twenty metres or so back, it seemed abundantly obvious. Quickly and a little clumsily, the pair of ponies caught up with the others and continued their long hike.

Swirling Gale hated giving reports to the princess. Benevolent as she was, the Princess remained terrifying. Sure, she tried to be friendly and kind but a being that could raise the sun could undoubtedly obliterate her instantly. That would always make her frightening to Swirling. The fact that it wouldn't even be a fight.

But she shouldn't really have to worry about that. Princess Celestia wasn't evil. She loved her ponies like a mother loves her daughters. Nothing could realistically possess her to harm anyone, particularly one of her own guards.

Long and deep breaths helped with keeping calm. She'd learned that one from a close friend a long time ago. Finally, she knocked.

“Yes? Who is it?” A voice called out from inside.

Swirling walked into the room and kneeled before the alicorn. She began, “Princess Celestia, I have a report from the western coast.”

“What is it? Is there any danger?” She replied in that unwavering comforting tone that tried to be motherly but instead made one's nerves crawl in fear.

“No,” Swirling explained, “we found a sign. Some kind of distress call.”

“Did you search the area? What did you find?”

“A message half destroyed by the waves. Asked us to follow something and to help,” Swirling reported.

“I see,” Celestia kept her permanent smile, “are there any missing pony reports from the nearby towns?”

“There isn't,” Swirling said, “and the sign is definitely recent. Patrols run on a daily schedule.”

“Then we'll send out a search party,” Celestia decided, “we can't leave ponies who need help.”

Swirling nodded.

“I'll have your troop reassigned to the search and send word to Princess Twilight,” Celestia explained, her voice wavering from comforting to frightened, “I hope the ponies are alright.”

“Absolutely Princess Celestia,” Swirling turned and left.

At least it was quick.

Walking was getting old. After hours of tortuous labour the friends were exhausted. Deep, blue and inexorably unstoppable, a river rushed before them. It was perhaps thirty metres wide and the current ripped through it so powerfully it made a sound like torn paper. An impassable blockade.

“River,” Aiden reported, “no chance of crossing. Even if we were strong swimmers, which we're not, it would be perilous. In these bodies, it’d be suicide.”

“You’re right,” Henry sighed, “anyone up for building a raft?”

“Not here,” Isabel countered, “the current is way too strong. We’ll be swept out to sea before we reach the other side, more likely the current will tear the raft to pieces. If we want to cross it we’ll need to go upstream.”

“Maybe we should stop,” Aiden argued, “make camp here. If we find some fish and make some traps and we could be in great shape.”

“I’m not sure that’d work,” Isabel frowned, “the truth is, none of us are survival experts and we shouldn’t act like we are. Staying here will likely mean death.”

“You said yesterday that we could survive out here,” Emma, shocked by Isabel’s change of heart, commented, “were you just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I... No. I just meant that... We can survive out here... for a while,” Isabel clarified, “but we need to get back home. If not because of water then because of food.”

“Hunting? Traps?” Aiden proposed, “if we work together we’re sure to survive.”

“How many of you can make traps with your hooves?” Isabel asked, “how many of you can even tie a knot?”

“You can?” Phoebe suggested, “I saw that crazy wing dexterity you’ve been working on. A few more days and I’m sure you could tie a knot.”

“Maybe,” Isabel sighed, “but we don’t know. The wild is terrifying, dangerous and awfully brutal.”

No one said anything for a while after that. The initial morale that had propelled the team here was fading fast. “What if we keep going for two days?” Isabel suggested, “if we find nothing we’ll consider that attempt a failure and settle down somewhere. Survive what we can?”

It took a long time to think through that proposal but Henry eventually accepted. He addressed them, “We will continue moving until tomorrow night. If we haven’t found anything we’ll stop there. All of us. By then we should have a good idea as to whether Isabel’s dexterity will be adequate for survival. Emma should try doing the same thing, but keep away from the knife until you're confident, we don't want any more injuries but we’ll need as many people to do fine work as possible. Hopefully everyone can master their basic movement by then as well. We’ll be in far better shape in two days than we are now.”

Nodded agreement confirmed their plan of action. The expedition would continue inland to reach a place where they could cross the river.

But as they ducked beneath the trees and continued up the river, a trio of pegasi scanned the beach from the sky.

And saw nothing.