Measure Twice Brew once

After a pleasant drink from the river, Brewberry moved on, following the river with the knowledge that the further upstream he went, the closer he’d get to Neighagra falls. He was certain this river originated from it and he was determined to reach it. For a moment he was of course considering just taking water from this stream, but he couldn’t be sure if some other water sources had diluted it, creating a less pure version of the water needed. So he dismissed the idea and trapsed onwards always following the river’s curves and bends. He eventually saw something that excited him in the distance: the familiar glow of a fire.

He headed straight for the light, abandoning the river in hopes of finding ponies that could give him directions. As the fire grew closer, he could hear voices. Gruff and gravely ones that were having a heated discussion. He got a bit more caution slowing his gallop to a trot as he approached, peeking at the fire from behind a tree. His suspicion was immediately justified as he could spy no ponies or other friendly faces there. Instead, the fire was surrounded by piles of what seemed to be random valuables, and 3 Diamond Dogs. They were debating how to split their ill-gotten gains. He could see that among the piles of shiny loot were 3 wooden clubs, clearly their weapons they used to threaten ponies, or even worse, attack pony villages. He settled in and listened closely.

“I say I get the big chunk. I'm the strongest and most intimidating. I make the ponies pay up quickly!” said the largest of the 3, a gray one with a very blocky brow and heavy set features.

“Nonsense, I'm the leader, so I get a bigger cut!” said the shortest one who had tufts of uneven fur making him look like an unkempt shrub.

“And who here voted for you?! Not me, not to mention I was the one who told you about the western road! If it wasn't for me, you'd both be clobbering at rocks to find gems, so I get the biggest cut!” said the third one who looked strangely thin for a diamond dog.

As they argued, Brewberry took note of the road. If there was a road, he could follow that instead of the river and maybe even find some signs or other ponies. However, he also was incredibly hungry, and the dogs were roasting mushrooms over their fire. He wasn't any good at foraging, or at least not at foraging edible things. The plants he had been taught to forage for potions were usually quite toxic, or at best gave you terrible stomach aches. But the smell of the mushrooms almost made him drool. He weighed his options. There was clearly no reasoning with these highwaymen, but he was unaware how long he'd be traveling with no food packed at all.

Eventually hunger won out over his concerns and he reached into his bag, pulling out a slender vial-looking flask that was much smaller than the average potion bottle. Inside was a shimmering grayish-blue liquid. He downed it before stowing the empty container in his bags. He then looked back at the Diamond Dogs who were now bickering even more bitterly, almost screaming at eachother. He grinned and stepped into the circle of the fires light. The hounds were none the wiser as the invisible pony snuck towards the fire where he ever so slowly pulled the wooden sticks out of the ground, making the spits of roasted fungus disappear in his invisible bags. The dogs continued to yell at eachother, too busy being greedy to notice their dinner disappearing.

Once Breweberry had all 3 mushroom spits secured, he began creeping backwards, extremely satisfied with his stealthiness until he realized the situation had escalated. The small one was threatening the thin one and the big one was reaching for his club as he looked up. Brewberry panicked and tried to move away more quickly without making too much noise, but he was too slow. With a terrifying crash, the large dog pounded the ground with his club, causing the other two to snarl and pull up their own clubs. Within seconds, there was angry barking and wooden clubs being swung in every direction, causing the stallion to cower even lower to the ground to try and avoid the heavy blow overhead.

He sped up his backwards crawl as one of the dogs was flung hard into the tree next to him, dropping his club dangerously close to Brewberry’s head with a heavy thunk. Once he was out of the circle of fire, the purple haired stallion got up and hurried off west towards the road the dogs had been hunting for riches. Once he was out of earshot, he ran as far as he could away from the dogs’ camp as his invisibility began to fade. He was getting tired and his hunger demanded he eat some of the stolen mushrooms, so he found a somewhat sheltered rock to rest under and eat as his body reappeared. He began chewing happily on the soft mushrooms, eating all 3 spits, surprising himself with his own hunger before he inevitably dozed off.