Pom crawled on the grass, out of breath from running downwind of her dogs.

They’d barely nibble any food set out for them and wouldn’t even touch most greens: tonight she’d find out why.

She laid down for a breather, but her whole body tensed as a howl rang out, followed by louder and louder barks.

They’re coming here!

She forced herself to lie as flat as possible, hoping the grass would hide her, as a puppy ran straight towards her.

Before she could decide on moving out of the way, the puppy pounced, head diving into the grass and emerging triumphantly with a dead rat; which it dropped in shock as Pom screamed.

Pom thought back to that night as she combed her favorite puppy’s fur clean, wondering how such a sweet runt of a sheepdog could be a killer.

They’re really doing us a favor: keeping those wee pests from eating our food. I ken they need more than greens to live, but…I don’t like thinking of it!

Woof looked up to her with a whine, sensing her tension.

“Och, dinnae worry about it. Just overthinking things again.”

Predators or not, the dogs have always been good to us. They would nae hurt anyone!

She shook off the philosophical conundrum for the finishing touches.

“And done! Ye can go play now, but don’t go rolling in anything!”

Woof dashed away with happy barks: she smiled as she watched her run off the join the others and unstrapped the brush from her hoof.

“What were ye overthinking?”

Pom spun around to see her mentor. As usual, his shaggy white fleece was dyed with faded blue spirals.

“Oh, Woad! Didn’t see ye there.”

He chuckled as he hobbled over.

“My legs might nae be what they were, but my hearing is as good as ever. But tell me, what’s bothering ye?”

Pom looked around, unsure on whether to tell him before making a decision.

“Well, last week ah followed the dogs tae see what they eat, and…”

She trailed off, looking for a gentle way to describe it.

“And ye found out they’re predators.” He finished for her.

“Ye knew?!” Pom’s jaw dropped. “Why didn’t ye tell anyone?”

“Tis an old secret. Everyone who needs tae know, knows. I’m impressed that ye figured it out on your own!”

“But…why keep it a secret?” Pom raised a hoof. “Aren’t we just wasting food?

“Aye, we are.” He nodded. “But thanks tae the dogs we’ve more than we need and excess for trade. It’s worth the waste to not start a panic.”

“Panic?” Pom raised an eye.

He took a breath as he worked out how to put it.

“Some folk may get scared, maybe start mistreatin’ the dogs. And while some outsiders ken, we don’t need our neighbors thinkin’ we’re harboring dangerous creatures.”

“That…makes some sense.” Pom begrudgingly admitted. “But I don’t like the idea of lying! Can’t they see the dogs are harmless tae folks?”

“Sometimes, lass, a lie is more gentle than the truth.”

Pom was about to protest when a pained howl jolted them both to attention: turning to see a ragged sheepdog limp towards them.

“Get him tae the shack! I’ll get the bandages ready!”

Woad started walking there as fast as he could.

“Aye!”

They managed to hoist the dog to the table together and Pom immediately set about cleaning his wounds, frowning at his involuntary snarls and whimpers.

“What could have done this?”

She’d never seen wounds like this: long, parallel cuts and clustered holes, like…

“Was this another dog?!”

Their patient huffed in what sounded like a 'no' as Woad spoke over his bandaging.

“No, that's ridiculous!”

“But then…what did?” Pom bit her lip, thinking back to that night and the rat.

“I don’t know, but that's not important now.”

They both jumped as the alpha dog barged in, towering over them as he barely fit in the room: twice Pom’s height and nearly three times her length.

Big Papa was in a fouler mood than she’d ever seen him with a constant low growl: for a breathless moment she thought he might be the attacker.

But those fears left as he exchanged huffs and barks with their patient: talking in some tongue no one could really understand.

It was over in seconds as Papa smelled his coat, growled again, and ran out of the shack: she could see him pause to sniff the ground before running off over the hill.

Whatever did this, I wouldn’t want tae be them when Papa finds ‘em.

Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she went back to patching the poor sheepdog up.

“Don’t ye worry, you’ll be right as rain!”

With their patient bandaged and resting, Pom made her way back to warn the other sheep.

No need tae worry, Papa’s on the case. The dogs can handle anything, even…no, they'd never!

Her mind was clouded by doubts and speculation, but they were about to be resolved in the worst possible way.

“Pom! POM!”

“Woogums?”

Pom called back as her older brother spotted her and rushed over.

"The predators are back! We've got tae go!”

“The what? Hold on,” Pom’s eyes widened. “Predators, like the scary stories?”

“Worse! It's so bad the Council of Elders actually met! The horses sent a message and they're about to read it, we need tae get to the Commons!”

“Ah'll get Woad, you go ahead!”

It was Pom’s first time in the Commons Chamber, but she didn’t think it was supposed to be this crowded.

Sheeple were filing in like a tide, and she got separated from her mentor as they bumped into her.

Rather than try to find him again she took advantage of her thin frame to weave to the front, spotting Prime Minister Quiff organizing a scroll on the podium.

Her gaze shifted to the back towards a secretary ewe with pen in mouth, ready to write, and then to a horse foal in the corner doing his best to not look exhausted.

Bang Bang!

Quiff's customary head knocks drew her attention alongside all the other sheep.

“Order! Order! The Chamber is now in session.”

Once the flock’s murmurs had settled down enough, he cleared his throat to begin.

“As most of ye have heard, we face a worldwide emergency. The predators have begun tae break the Horned Prophet’s seal, and they are already in Foenum.”

He went on to describe the sightings and known details they had recorded as panicked murmurs and bleats filled the air, and he had to slam his head on the desk several times to quiet them

“Order! Now, the Council of Elders has already met tae discuss the issue, and there is a plan.”

Oh, thank goodness!

“With tae Prophet’s Key, the predators can be sealed back where they belong. Foenum is in need of a champion to find this key an’ face the predators on the very door of the Hold, and they have called for all tribes to choose their own champion for this task.”

Whispers broke out again.

“So, any volunteers?

The room went dead silent.

Sheep hid their faces as he scanned the room, as if merely making eye contact could get them picked.

Not me! Not me! Not me!

A long minute passed before he frowned and spoke again.

“If there are no volunteers, shall we vote on whether we should do nothing, and leave this to others?”

Approving Baahs filled the room as he continued.

“But you must realize that nowhere is truly safe? The predators will be here sooner or later.”

He’s right, they’re as dangerous to us as anyone!

With the topic of choosing a champion tabled, the flock was suddenly more talkative.

“Let someone else be champion!”

“I’ve never seen a predator.”

“We’ve got the dogs to protect us!”

But…who protects them?

Quiff sighed and called for the vote.

“All in favor of not sending a champion, say -”

“UM! Uh, objection?”

Pom covered her mouth and swallowed as all eyes turned to her, shocked by her own voice as the Prime Minister addressed her, specifically.

“I will excuse the informality. What is your objection?”

“Um…uh…” Come on Pom, you’ll look like more of a fool if ya don’t say it! “Th- the predators are already here.”

Chatter drowned out her thoughts as he slammed the desk again.

“Order! I say Order!”

He turned back to her with narrowed eyes, “What do you mean by this, lass? Identify yourself.”

“M-my name is Pom.” Simple enough. “I- I’m a dog tender, work with old Woad, and…and one of them came back hurt. The dogs, I mean - there were claw marks and bites!”

Someone from the crowd raised their voice.

“Have you actually seen a predator?”

Pom stammered as she remembered her discovery.

“N-no, but I’ve never seen anything like this! Big Papa - er, I mean Max - was furious! If we don’t do anything, the dogs will get hurt and we’ll be next, to say nothing of the other folk! Someone has tae do something!”

Quiff stared at her with the room unnervingly quiet, and Pom couldn’t avert her eyes despite desperately wanting to.

“Do you stand by your words?”

Something in Pom screamed at her to stop, run away, and hide, but remembering that poor sheepdog steeled her resolve.

“Yes. I do.”

He turned back to the crowd with a solemn nod.

“All for voting Pom as champion?”

Bleats erupted from the crowd, echoing off the walls as her confidence shattered.

Wai - Wha - I didn’t -

“Then I pronounce you, Champion of the Meadow!”

Relieved cheers almost drowned out her protest as the clerk pulled her to the podium.

“Och, no! I - I didn’t mean - I cannae be -”

“The flock has spoken!” Quiff slammed his head again: something about it sounded alarmingly final.

“Ye were the only one brave enough tae speak against the crowd, and wise enough tae understand our peril. Ye have proven yourself to be worthy, and all sheep follow the will of the flock.”

“But - but I cannae fight!” Pom’s eyes instinctually darted around looking for some place to flee to. “I don’t know anything but medicine and dogs!”

“Then you are all the more suited.” Quiff tried to reassure her with a hoof on her shoulder as she recoiled. “The dogs can handle the fighting, and they are likely to need a sheep who can tend their wounds.”

“Ah - ah mean…” Pom desperately tried to think of a brave fighting sheeple to suggest instead, but drew a blank. “I guess…but -”

“Then it is settled! You will have all the provisions we can provide, and leave tomorrow morning. I will convene a meeting of experts this evening to advise you on your journey. The meeting is adjourned!”

Gossiping sheeple poured out of the Chamber as Pom’s brain shut down and she stood still: barely hearing Quiff trying to reassure her.

“Dinnae worry, lass. You’ll have your pick of the dogs to keep you safe.”

This cannae be happening!

Most of the flock seemed relieved, if a little shocked, but as they thinned she saw three who shared her horror: her family.

“What were ye thinking, speaking up like that!”

Dolby scolded her on the way home.

“I- I don't know! I just, just…”

Someone had tae say it, but -

“I wasn't volunteering!”

“Don't worry,” Bouf stammered, “we'll get you out of this, we'll think of something, right?!”

Somehow her mother sounded more worried than Pom felt: utterly failing to reassure her as she rambled on.

I'm supposed tae be the scared one!

“We will, dinnae you worry.” Her father insisted. “All we need is a real volunteer, and the flock’ll be sure to vote them in!”

Woogums perked up at that.

“Yeah, we'll find one and it'll be like it never happened!”

But the whole flock was there, and no one spoke up.

“That's a great idea!” Pom hid her misgivings.

Dolby and Woogums nodded to each other.

“Don't ye worry, we’ll find someone!”

They ran off in opposite directions to the nearest neighbors, leaving Pom alone with her mother.

“And if they can't find one, maybe you can hide - no, they know where we live. Maybe hide outside the - Oh NO, there's predators!”

Bouf broke down sobbing.

Ah cannae deal with this now!

“Don’t worry, ma: I'll be okay.” Pom patted her on the back. “I - I need tae go clear my head a bit. We'll figure it out when we're calm!”

“Calm. Calm - yes, of course!” Bouf forced a laugh that came out as a sob. “You’re not actually going to be - It will be fine! We'll wake up tomorrow, and it will all be normal, and my baby will be all safe and sound and…”

Pom crept away from her as she walked down the trail to their home, totally lost in her own reassurances.

Okay, ah'm going to have to find something out myself. Just need somewhere I can think.

Pom's breathing steadied a little as she wandered to the field.

The meadow countryside had always been comforting for her, and she'd volunteered to watch the dogs as an excuse to get out. But the thought of leaving it all behind panicked her again.

I've only ever done camping trips, how am I supposed tae go who-knows-where?! Does anyone actually have a plan?

“Woof!”

She jumped at the sudden interruption, but smiled as her favorite pup ran up to her.

“Woof! Oh, I'm glad tae see you!”

She hugged onto the puppy as her siblings, Puff, Ruff, Tuft, followed barking. Soon she was surrounded by them nuzzling her.

“Och, heard of the mess ahm in, eh?

Somehow the dogs always seemed to know how sheeple proceedings went: when it concerned them, at least.

A massive sheepdog walked up with a sympathetic whine as she sat in front of them.

“Hey Momma, don't suppose you have any ideas?”

“Bark!”

“What do you mean? What am ah supposed tae do?”

Pom wasn't really expecting a response, but Big Momma gently bit her wool, picked her up like one of the puppies, and set her in the direction of the path: motioning towards it with her nose.

The lift hardly bothered Pom, but the message terrified her.

“Nae! You've got it all wrong, ah cannae do this! Why me?!”

“Seems like she disagrees.” She spun around to see Woad approaching. “Ye were brave tae speak out like that.”

“But ah'm not brave!” Pom protested. “I only spoke up because someone had to!”

“Aye,” he nodded, “we won't be safe by just pretending we are. An’ the dogs would get the worst of it. That's not fair to them, even if we were safe.”

Seeing Big Momma look to her pups with concern, Pom couldn't bring herself to disagree.

“But I'm still not a champion! Ah've got to be the weakest sheep to pick!”

“The flock picked ye.” Woad replied. “Ye were the clear choice, even if you can't see it now. And trust the dogs: they've got better instincts for facing danger than we ever did.”

“But how can I face the predators -” Pom bit her lip at the word with a sympathetic look from Momma - “How can I protect anyone when I can't fight?”

A deep bark answered her, and she turned to see Big Papa sitting as straight as he could, towering over her.

“You'd come with me?”

Papa barked again with a nod.

Woof barked as well, and Papa looks down and barked back. Woof's ears lowered, but then Momma barked something back to him.

Papa leaned in with a growl and a huff, and all the puppies started yapping back at him.

What are they arguing about?

Papa and Momma started barking at each other before the din, escalating until it ended with Momma barked loud enough to knock Pom on her back: echoing around the hills.

Papa growled briefly, grunted, and lowered his head with a huff.

“What was that about?”

All the dogs surround Pom.

“Wait, yer all comin?!”

A chorus of soft barks surrounds her.

“But what if tha sheeple say nae?”

Big Momma growls.

“Och, point taken.”

Woad chuckled and patted her on the back.

“Looks like you’ll have the strongest sheepdogs in Baaah with ye. Ye might be safer than me!”

Pom tried to smile as he continued.

“Now, in my youth I was a bit of an adventurer. Let me give you some advice before ye go.”

“...Thank ye. Thank all of ye.”

As she walked home, Pom's head was full of survival tips, notes on different tribes, and what self-defense maneuvers Woad could teach someone without horns: though she had no faith in using them.

Ah suppose they'll send for me at home, I should be there.

But her other concerns briefly took a backseat to what her family would say as she saw their roof come into view.

“Pom!” Woogums ran out and shared a much needed hug with her. “Oh, I'm so glad to see you. We've got great news!”

“You found a volunteer?” Pom’s face lit up as she felt her burdens lifting.

“Well, no.” They crashed back down. “But Mom has a plan! You'll be safe and sound.”

She followed him through the door, skeptical but cautiously optimistic.

Bouf rushed over to hug her, with Dolby following shortly after.

“Welcome home, dear!”

“Good to be home.” Pom wondered when she'd see it again.

“Come, sit!” Dolby led them to the table. “We worked out a plan you need to hear before the meeting.”

Sitting on the table cushions with them made things feel more normal, calming Pom as she asked.

“Okay, what's the plan?”

Dolby and Woogums smiled at Bouf as she cleared her throat.

“Okay, it looks like you're stuck as champion, but that doesn't mean you can't be safe! First you'll take the safe road to the port, then you can send the dogs home: maybe tell them to stay away from Baaah 'til you're back.”

Tell the dogs to stay away?

Pom felt a knot in her stomach as Bouf continued.

“Second, you take a ship sailing to Reine, with those big strong walls, and use the salt they'll provide as champion to stay at a tavern!”

Leave the dogs tae fend for themselves while I lay around on other sheeple’s money?!

The others were oblivious to Pom’s misgivings as Bouf finished.

“Then wait there a few days, maybe a few weeks, then come home and say you just couldn't find it, but you lost to some big strong champion who definitely has this under control. What could anyone say to that, you tried!”

Bouf’s smile faded at Pom’s response.

“But…what about the predators?”

“What about them?! Let the stronger folks handle it: sheeple were never built to fight!”

But dogs were.

Guilt filled Pom's heart as she made a decision and put on a false smile.

“That's a great idea! Thanks mom, you're the best!”

“Anything for my little lamb!”

The sheepdogs followed Pom into the Commons Chamber: now eerily empty after the crowd from earlier.

She spotted Woad in the small crowd alongside the brown foal from earlier, the only one wary of the dogs, as Quiff greeted her.

“Champion Pom! Good to see you: we're here to give whatever guidance and assistance we can.”

The title ‘champion’ felt strange to her, though she'd already made up her mind.

They stood waiting for her to speak, and she obliged.

“First, I want to let you know that I'm in. I mean, I was officially champion already, but I accept the responsibility.”

“Good to hear!” Quiff grinned. “I knew ye were brave!”

Didn't see you volunteering.

“Second: Max, Blen, and their puppies volunteered to help, so they're coming with me.”

Big Momma and Papa scanned the sheeple as if warning them not to protest.

“Very well.” Quiff frowned, not happy to lose their best fighters.

“Third…” Pom looked around. “Where do we start? I mean, where do I even look for the Key?”

Woad stepped forward with a notebook.

“My memory may not be what it was, but I recorded my travels back in the day and I've been going over them. Ah found something that just might help.”

He flipped around for a specific page before moving his hoof along a route on the map they’d hung up.

“Here! Past the Tusk Mountains and down the river, there's a wetland where the Tapir live. I met several fellow travelers going there tae find a Seer who supposedly lives there, supposedly a position passed down through generations. Said that they share visions with folks to guide them. So if you can talk to the Seer -”

“She can lead me to the key!” Pom interrupted in her excitement.

That's not so far from here, is it?

“Exactly!” He smiled. “I’d recommend avoiding the direct route through the steppes: just head south hugging the coast 'til you get to the port, then take the path to the mountain, ring around it to the river, follow that, and you're there!”

“Is our plan really to follow a rumor?" Quiff objected. "She should head to Reine first and see if others have heard anything.”

All eyes turned to Pom as she spoke.

“But the wetlands aren't far, and I can always stop by Reine after. If there is a Seer, I could even share what I learned.” She turned to Woad. “How sure are you about this Seer?”

“I can't be certain, to be honest.” He scratched his neck. “But if she weren't real, I doubt so many folks from across Foenum would come to look for her."

“I ken, that's fair.” Pom rubbed her chin in thought. “Any other ideas?”

With none forthcoming she made up her mind.

“Okay, then I'll go to the wetlands first, with Reine as a backup plan.”

She nodded and finally turned to the foal in the room.

“Sorry for waking you, ye can stay here an extra day if ye need to.”

“Why’d you call for me in the first place?” His earlier patience seemed to have frayed. “I can read and deliver messages without being here in person.”

“‘Cause I wanted to ask you something. What’s yer name again?”

“Uh, Reginald.” He blinked.

“Reginald. You seem a little young, at least for a horse - I don’t imagine they’d send you as a messenger if they thought it’d be dangerous.”

“I’ve been trained to fight!” He protested. “...but no, they don’t send squires on dangerous missions.”

“Then how’d you get here without it being dangerous, what with the predators about?”

“Oh.” He walked up to the map and traced his own route from the steppes. “I traveled between villages in days with clear skies, since they can’t survive open sunlight. You’re safe if you avoid shadowy places and make it indoors before nightfall. Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you.” Pom nodded. “Ye can go back to sleep now.”

“We’ll write everything down and go over it tomorrow.” Quiff added. “Feel free to stay an extra day, and I will see to it that you receive some extra salt for your trouble.”

“Thanks.” He held back a yawn. “And good luck.”

“Thank ye.” Pom smiled.

With the messenger gone, they discussed the mundane logistics and supplies for the trip: Pom was oblivious to how assertively she was speaking, and how they started to defer to her as a leader.

As the topic of food came up, Quiff interjected.

“Woad tells me that ye already know of the dogs’...special diet. Ye must keep this a secret for their good and ours, but at least ye know that they will not need your food supplies.”

“So how do they…hunt?” The word felt dirty to say.

Woad opted to explain.

“Ye don't have tae worry about that: they'd never hurt an ungulate, but there's vermin most everywhere. They can also fish in streams: just make sure they get time tae spread out in the wilds, in the day. They already bury the evidence, so no need tae worry about that either.”

They covered more mundane details before every one of them was wrapped up and written down, save one.

“And one more thing,” Pom took a breath, “I'd like to make a special request.”

“Name it.” Quiff said.

“My folks think I'm going to Reine to hide and wait this out. Could you tell them the real plan, just in a few days?”

She swallowed as he raised an eye.

“If I tell them now, it will be even harder to leave, but they deserve to know.”

“Very well. You have my word.”

Sheeple and sheepdogs both crowded around the gate to see Pom off the following morning.

Some seemed to think they wouldn’t see her again, but Big Momma and Papa gave others confidence that she’d be safe.

Her family stood in front, unusually confident in a way that made her feel more guilty.

“You packed your sweater, right?” Bouf looked to the large saddlebags strapped to Momma and Papa. “It’ll be - I mean, it could be cold, you know.”

“Of course I did, ma.” Pom forced another smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“And watch out for the prices in other towns,” Dolby said, “some folks try to rip travelers off.”

“I ken.” Pom gave him his goodbye hug. “No sense wasting salt!”

Woogums took his turn last, but held her in the hug the longest.

“I love you, sis. Just promise you’ll be safe!”

It’s still not too late to tell them! It feels wrong just - no, if I tell them now they’ll panic!

“I love you too. All of you! I promise I’ll come back safe and sound.”

Big Papa barked, adding his own promise to hers.

With the ceremonies and goodbyes finally done, it was time for Pom to walk away as they waved after her.

She forced herself to appear confident for her family’s sake, taking her first steps into the unknown: but smiled as she saw the puppies’ excitement to explore.

If we all work together, maybe we’ll be fine.

Author's Note

The great Pom's Chapter — A Novelization of a Story That Doesn't Yet Exist was a big part of my inspiration to try writing, and attempting a Pom story to compete with while trying to avoid copying it is difficult.

It did so many things right: definitely give it a read.

EPom's Chapter — A Novelization of a Story That Doesn't Yet Exist

• MLP: FiM
• Them's Fightin' Herds
• Adventure

An adventure detailing Pom's unwilling journey through Foenum for the Prophet's Key.

• Other

AIPomgeon · 45k words  ·  33  0 · 843 views

Bouffant is a hairstyle, so I thought Bouf would work as the name for Pom's mother.

I was originally going to use Quiff, another hairstyle, for her father, but I decided to give it to the Prime Minister fitting Redahfuhrerking/ Scorn's naming.

I envision Woogums differently, but he has some art of Prime Minister Quiff that seems fitting.

In this continuity, Big Papa and Big Momma were named Max and Blen by the sheeple when they were puppies, but after they had puppies of their own those were affectionate nicknames that stuck.

In case you're wondering what the dogs were saying to each other, this is a rough write-up:

(Papa enters the medical shack)

Papa: Who did this?!

Watch: It looked like a dog, but made of shadow! It ambushed me in a cave by the stream and I barely made it out!

Papa: Whatever it is, I'll find it.

(Papa volunteers to travel with Pom)

Papa: I'll fight.

Woof: I'll come, too!

Papa: No, you won't.

Momma: We'd be safer going together.

Puff, Ruff, Tuft: We can help! We know how to hunt! We'd miss you!

Papa: It's too dangerous.

Momma: More dogs for watch is better.

Papa: They are too young! I can't look out for them and the sheep!

Momma: I will be with you, and they aren't safe here either.

Papa: So you should stay here and guard them!

Momma: I'm coming with you! That is final!

Papa: …fine.