“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sweetie Belle squeaked, glancing behind herself as Apple Bloom and Scootaloo ventured further into the Everfree.

“Of course I am! Timber wolves have been droppin’ left and right ever since the blight passed through last month. All we need to do is find a few of their heads and then we’ll have the most perfectest nightmare night masks ever!” Apple Bloom said with confidence, leading the group over warped roots and between thick bushes.

“I can picture it already,” Scootaloo added. “I’ll have a ghost—no, a jack o’lantern cutiemark! That’ll be so sick, huh Apple Bloom?”

“Sicker than a wet dog on a winter wednesday!”

Sweetie Belle defied her gut and followed her friends close behind. “What if we run into a pack of live ones? They’ll rip us to bits!” she wimpered.

“Don’t be such a scaredy cat,” Scootaloo chided. “The last of the wolves went to the east side of the Everfree to avoid the blight. Look,” the filly bent the stem of a fern with her hoof. The broad fan leaf was speckled with glistening, oily dots of butter. “Where there’s blight, there’s safety.”

“If you say so,” Sweetie relented. That made sense… kind of.

The three ventured further; over mossy rocks, under the bent elbows of willow trees, until they found themselves in a clearing next to a meandering creek. Across the knee-high water lay the remains of a pack of timber wolves, eight in number. The bodies were morsels upon a rock tongue that spilled out of the mouth of a cave before submitting to grass and dirt.

The cave was no stranger to the fillies. They found it two years ago and its high ceiling, smooth walls, and short length made it an ideal place for a forest clubhouse. However, right when they set up camp, Fluttershy showed up and chewed them out—a shocking moment for them given her otherwise tepid demeanor.

“If you think that this will make a good house, you can bet your flanks that a bugbear would believe the same thing!”

Her scolding burned fresh in their memory. So fresh that the cave was the first place they thought to check when looking for timber wolves.

“Oh my gosh! Ain’t we lucky, girls?” Apple Bloom exclaimed, running up to one of the piles of wood. The wood was cypress, twisted into the form of a canine with natural precision. The wooden fangs set flush against a hardened palate, peeking out below an embossment that represented its lips.

“Twilight told me that timber wolves are a type of mimic,” Sweetie said, fear now absent from her voice. “Like, what good are wooden lips, anyway?”

“Why would they want to mimic wolves? The Everfree doesn’t even have normal wolves,” Scootaloo grunted as she popped a hollow head from its torso.

“Maybe to scare ponies away? Granny says that they’re the mindless protectors of the forest and they don’t take too kindly to ‘enter-loopers,’ or something like that.”

“Yeah…” Sweetie trailed off, looking down at the body of a timber cub. She caught a pang of sadness from the autumn air. Even if they were magical constructs, why would they bother mimicking something as defenseless as a little cub? Sweetie bent down and placed the frog of her hoof on its torso, briefly closing her eyes. The world ceased for a moment, and the forest smiled.

Sweetie opened her eyes and took her hoof off. The cub lay dead in a bed of ferns. The ferns were mottled yellow, but the cub didn’t have so much as a splotch of blight.

“Girls,” Sweetie Belle called, her voice shaking again. “Do you see any blight on the wolves?”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked at each other while wearing their wolf skulls—they made for great masks. Too great, though. The skulls were in pristine condition.

Scootaloo looked back down at the body she had removed the skull from. On closer inspection, she saw a hoof-sized divot in its sternum. Something had impacted the chest of the wolf with a surprising amount of force.

Scootaloo opened her mouth to speak. “Maybe we should—”

Stagnant air trickled from the mouth of the cave.

“Hello? I’m lo-st. Where is the f-orest r-anger?”

The fillies froze, slowly turning their heads towards the noise. They strained their eyes to try and see what made the broken collection of words.

Pure darkness lay beyond the lip of the cave. Luna’s light failed to penetrate more than a few feet inward. A distant echo of wet slaps of flesh against rock puddled out of the cave onto the grass.

“It-‘s cold. Can I use y-our phone? I ne-ed a r-ide to town.”

The voice was guttural. It gurgled as air struggled to vibrate its pustule-ridden vocal cords. If the fillies were being generous, they would say it belonged to a woman, but they knew better.

Sweetie and Scootaloo took hesitant steps backward to the creek. Apple Bloom stood still, her body stuck in a paradoxical rut between fight and flight.

“I c-an p-ay you. I have m-on-ey.”

A pale pink form stepped into the curtain of moonlight at the mouth of the cave. The figure stood on two valgum legs. Its feet were purple, and its toes bore split, yellowed nails. Thick, worming varicosities stitched up the shins and calves. Its knees appeared like deformed faces, and its thighs were lined with clawing stretch marks. At its crotch was nothing but a collection of wiry hair.

Its top half remained obscured in the dark.

“Is a-ny one th-there?”

Sweetie Belle ran.

There was no thought process, no weighing of moral or ethical quandaries at the sin of leaving her friends behind. Just pure, electric terror as her brain demanded self-preservation. She would get help, is what she told herself as she fled over the creek. She would get Twilight and the others to come and kill the monster and save her friends. What good could she do, staying there? She couldn’t fight a dog, let alone a timber wolf. And this? No.

Sweetie Belle ran.

The creature’s swollen feet took another haphazard step forward, slapping loudly with a wobbled gait. The curtain of moonlight revealed more of its hideous form. Above its crotch were the humps of its pelvic bones. It had one on the left and three on the right. Its hypogastrium sunk down into a valley while its stomach bloated out just above. It lacked a belly button, and striking blue medusae veins radiated out from the center like pulsating snakes just under the skin. The creature had lopsided breasts, the left heavier than the right, and neither had teats. Its left elbow was bent outward as if the forearm was attached backward, and both of its hands tapered into spindly spiders of flesh.

Over its clavicle flowed smooth jet black hair.

That was enough for Scootaloo.

She didn’t need to wait for the creature to step out from the shadow and reveal its face. She didn’t know if her heart could take it. She paused as she turned to run, knowing that leaving a friend behind would be the last thing her hero would want of her, but… Scootaloo let out a high-pitched whinny. If Apple Bloom could hear that, then she would get the message to run. What else could the Scootaloo do? Nothing.

That was enough for Scootaloo.

Apple Bloom stood still, unmoving.

She desperately willed her legs to carry her away, but they refused. Fear was tangible, and it wrapped its long fingers around her neck.

The thing stepped forward once more. Apple Bloom trailed her eyes up its hair towards a stark widow’s peak. The creature’s forehead was smooth as porcelain. Its eyebrows were finely kempt and its irises a soft blue. Its eyes resembled the shape of almonds, wearing the soft expression of a mother coddling her child. Its nose was an ivory chess piece and its lips were supple rose petals. The creature’s chin angled to a soft, rounded point.

It stared at Apple Bloom and Apple Bloom stared at it. Her body relaxed and she felt peace.

Apple Bloom stood still, unmoving.

Author's Note

yes, time to procrastinate from my main fic with more niche stuff.