Luna's Moon Laughs

by Airstream

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Zecora, Original Character
Length: 10343

The Everfree Forest has its reputation for a reason. Pray you don't find out why.

The Everfree Forest is a place of balance, of light and dark. It provides blessings to many, and is a bastion of life that few acknowledge. But all good things come with a price. Once per year, on the first harvest moon, the Everfree Forest collects a terrible payment from the unwary, as five shall soon find out.

They shall ensure life in the forest, though its methods of collection are rather...unpleasant.

Takes place in the Lines and Webs universe.

Published 2012-10-27 01:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-01 01:55:50 UTC

The Farmers

The moon rose over the Everfree forest, pale light spilling across the treetops as the gibbous sphere gazed upon the darkened land below. The night sky around it was a pitch black, unnervingly flat and blank, with only a few reluctant stars showing themselves. As the forest grew dark, a low bank of clouds rolled in, hovering low and threatening above the heads of those denizens living within. As the last desperate fingers of the sun grasped at the sky, the small hamlets and towns around the Everfree began to shut down. The stores closed early, proprietors hustling customers out of the doors and chiding them to return home. Mothers called for their children, slight edges of worry on their cries, and soon enough those working late had barricaded themselves behind locked doors, or if they were in the fields, hurrying home, glancing over their shoulders anxiously. Fires were lit, shutters drawn, and doors locked tightly. Curfew had nothing to do with it, nor did the simple fact that Celestia's blessing had at last slipped below the horizon. No, this was for a deeper, more superstitious reason. Tonight was a night of danger for those roaming alone, or even in packs. Tonight was the first harvest moon, the one that small village ponies feared above all others. Tonight was the night of Luna's Smile.

Of course, this was all superstition, all utter nonsense. Most simply went along with the tradition because that was the way things had always been done. Lock the doors, hunker down, tell a few stories and scare the fillies at home. Tales of the Headless Horse, or maybe the Thin One, or Jack O' Lantern, who was said to wander the countryside once a year, looking for souls to steal and light his lantern. Nightmare Night was coming up soon, after all. Who didn't like an extra holiday? The ponies in town shook their heads, laughed a little at the foolishness of their neighbors on the outskirts of town. Honestly, these were civilized times! Nopony really believed in ghosts and goblins and monsters anymore. And besides, there were far more interesting events. Celestia's pupil had sparked a rebellion just a few short weeks ago, and the rumors of troops being sent into the woods, of spies in Canterlot, of war had laid aside any thought as to what could be lurking in the dark woods outside.

But the farmers knew, oh yes, they knew all too well. They saw what the city dwellers could not. The wind had shifted, and began to blow out of the forest, carrying with it the faintest scent of rot. Dogs and cattle had been skittish all day, approaching hysteria come nightfall. The old Earth ponies complained of headaches, of buzzing in the ears. Tools had moved overnight. Some fillies and colts complained of nightmares. So the day had been spent preparing. Each farmer had something sharp nearby, an axe or scythe. Foals were told to stay close to the house. Teenagers had their plans cancelled. Wood was chopped and stacked by the fireplace. The doors were checked, the hinges and locks repaired if needed. Food was brought in from the cellars. Work was done within sight of the house, if it was done at all. Livestock were locked securely in the barn, and well provisioned with food and water. Pets were brought inside. Toys were gathered from the grass, and the final act many ponies took before sequestering themselves indoors was sharpening their weapons. This night would bring nothing but evil. That much was certain.

Whether or not you believed in what was being prepared for, the fact of the matter remained that all ponies were inside by nightfall, locked tightly indoors, some talking and laughing late into the night before retiring, while others would remain at their doors, huddled fearfully together and muttering desperate prayers to Celestia and Luna that they and their families would remain safe.

"This isnt a good idea, sir. It's dark, and these woods give me the shivers." the female Guardspony said, laying her ears back carefully as she swept the tree line for movement.

"What's the matter, Tricky? Sacred of the dark?" her companion teased, nudging her. The unicorn lit his horn, spilling light into the twisted trees in front of them. "Maybe you're in the wrong line of work, if you're frightened of chasing down one pony in the woods. Sure you don't want to be in the Air Corps?"

She scowled. "Can it, Applewood." Light sprang from her own horn. "I'm saying that we are at a disadvantage here. We don't know these woods, so why are we going in at night?"

A bulky Earth pony spoke up. "Because last week Star Company went in there in broad daylight and got ambushed. Haven't heard from them since. You know our best work is done in the dark, and we're the best of the best at finding ponies. That's why we got this mission."

"That's right, Rusty. Find what's left of Star, collect proof, and then get out. If we come across any information as to the whereabouts of rebel forces, or anything at all, we bring it back." Applewood said. "Right, sir?"

The Pegasus nodded. "That's right. And we're heading in after dark because whatever ambushed them will have abandoned their ambush post after dark. They'll be at a sentry posting further back. Which gives us the perfect opportunity to get in, get our intel, and get out." A wolf howled in the distance. He grimaced. "And get back to Canterlot."

The last member of their group, an Earth pony mare with the lithe build of a runner, spoke up. "What's with the locals around here? Everything closed at sunset, even the inns. Didn't look like anything was going to be open again tonight."

The captain waved his hoof irritably. "Who knows. We're Guards, if we need to sleep outdoors, we'll sleep outdoors. Certainly wouldn't be the first time. Now, any further questions? No? Alright then. Trick, Applewood, you're on point. Give us light. Rusty, River, you bring up the rear. Keep your heads on a swivel, and make sure that we don't get surprised. Let's move."

The five set out on the path before them, two meager lights showing the way as they disappeared into the darkness of the Everfree Forest.

An Offering Taken

The path before them was carpeted with leaves, which rustled underhoof as the five Guards traveled deeper into the woods. The hornlights threw pale, shimmering light onto dark wood, pooling in front of them and illuminating a treacherous path pockmarked with holes and covered in tangled roots. A stream ran nearby, and the night was cold enough to watch mist roll off of its surface, spreading across the path in front of and behind them, a light coating that turned the ground fuzzy. The woods were thin here, and the moon shone through, pale yellow and distant, an oval of light in the night sky.

"Ouch! Don't the ponies out here maintain these paths?" Quick Trick said as she stumbled over a root, causing her light to flicker as she lost concentration.

"I don't think so. In fact, I don't think they come into the forest if they can avoid it." Rusty said. "Something's off about these woods. They're wild, untamed. Hay, I noticed it when we came out of town. The fields next to the forest were poorly maintained, like they spent less time there. If I lived next to this place, I wouldn't want to come near it either."

Running River nodded her head in accordance. "I've got a cousin over near Ponyville. They say that nopony goes near the forest because it's always been a bit...odd. But she didn't mention why they thought so, just that they did."

The captain cleared his throat. "Belay that talk. You're jumping at shadows, trust me. Sure, these woods are big, but I can promise you that it's nothing special. There're big, and they're old, and that's it. Not to say they aren't dangerous, you all heard those wolves earlier, but I guarantee that nothing here is going to hurt us. We're in a group, and we're well armed and armored, and nothing here is big enough to take us on save for a dragon or similar. Now, maintain silence unless it's necessary. We could still be heard if we aren't careful."

And with that, the group of five continued into the forest, leaving the open fields behind them and entering the forest proper. The forest was quiet, very quiet. Nothing was to be heard save for the hoofbeats of the ponies, and ther labored breathing. Not an insect buzzed, not a predator shrieked, and even the wind appeared to have stopped, leaving the air hanging still, as if the forest itself was holding its breath in anticipation. The trees pressed in closely, as if waiting for an opportunity to see these strange intruders, those who dared to disturb the sanctity of the forest with their light and metal and magic. And maybe the group was being watched, after all. Each of the five, though they would never dare to admit it, felt the very same thing, a sense of being observed. Not by anything, pony, predator, or prey, but by something...else. The same way a dragon might regard an ant atop its horde, should it notice one. Clinical, detached, and maybe even a bit amused at the audacity of such a creature, one who thought itself a match for a being of its might.

The gentle chatter of the stream faded away, though the path ahead was still strangely shrouded in mist, which licked and curled at their hooves as if tasting them before fading back into itself, coiling sinuously in mysterious eddies and billowing in strange shapes, almost giving the impression of being recognizable as a claw, an eye, a screaming face. The two unicorns swept the trees, seeing nothing save wood running with sap and withered bushes, thorny vines and the occasional stump and fallen log, hollow and rotten. Each had the same feeling, that something wasn't quite right here.

"Sir? I think something's off about the path." Quick Trick said, turning to make eye contact.

"What is it?"

"Sir, the path is...wider. And smooth. Not like it's well maintained or anything, but like it just sort of naturally gets wider."

Rusty snorted. "Is that it? The path's gotten easier, and you think that's news?"

The captain held up a hoof. "No, she's right. The path has gotten easier, but the trees are closer together. Somepony has come through here, and used magic. Powerful magic, too, if it's gotten the trees to grow apart. Can you detect any latent spells?"

Applewood shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing. It's like they're doing it on their own."

The Pegasus thought for a moment. "Alright. Keep an eye out, be careful. I'm willing to bet a trap has been set up nearby, so we need to keep alert. River, Rusty, watch each other's flanks, and let's form up into a file. Applewood, Trick, keep it together, I want us-"

Rusty pointed. "Sir! Look!"

There, on the path ahead, stood a figure, cloaked and hooded, feet planted firmly on the ground. It was pale, its bone white coat matted in places with some dark substance, hooves caked in mud and filth. Its cloak, a dark and tattered thing, melted into the darkness behind it, giving the illusion that this pony not only was comfortable with the night, but wore it calmly. When it spoke, its voice was the rustle of dry leaves and the creaking of dead boughs, a thing both utterly alien and disturbingly familiar, as if it knew everything about you, as if the pony in front of them had watched them since birth.

"Leave this place, else you wish to pay passage most dear. None return who enter here."

The captain stepped forward boldly, armor gleaming in the moonlight. "Not likely. We've come prepared, and we are going to find what we are looking for, whoever you are."

"Leave, or stay forever more. You may find what you're looking for."

"Right. In the name of Celestia the most high, I order you to tell me the whereabouts of Star Company, or face detention and interrogation by our party. Will you comply?"

"A final time, I tell you flee. You will not like the things you see."

"Sir, maybe we should consider this." River said nervously. "This place is not right. And whoever that is seems very serious. Maybe we should regroup and come back in the morning."

The Pegasus stomped one hoof. "You are out of line, River. I hereby order you to seize that pony for further questioning."

The hooded figure stepped back.

"You have been warned, you did not fly. And now you all will surely die. The harvest moon will help you see how you shall feed the Everfree."

River stepped forward, Rusty and Trick by her side. Three things happened. The figure turned its cloak in on itself, seeming to vanish into the night. The unicorns' horns flickered out. And from the woods all around them, there arose the dreadful howling of wolves.

River

River gasped as the trees around them shuddered and sighed, as the howls of the wolves grew deafening, coming from all directions. She heard shouting from the Captain, as he pulled them together in a defensive huddle, the unicorns trying to restart their hornlights while preparing themselves to use magic in their defense. Rusty put his side to hers as they fell into their practiced fighting position, leaning on one another and supporting each other in defense. The Captain took to the air, hovering and providing eyes.

"Wolves! Big ones! Coming from all sides!" he shouted, his voice carrying far. The unicorns at last managed to restart their horns, light spilling forth once more, just in time to reveal what had been stalking them all along.

The wolves in question were massive, easily as big as Rusty. That wasn't what made River shake with fear, however. None of her Guard training had prepared her for this. These were...wood. Wolves made of wood. They shouldn't have existed, they were just old pony's tales, like flutterponies or mermares. These were an object she had found ridiculous even as a filly, even when every other story used to drive her up the walls in fear. These were timberwolves.

"Celestia preserve us..." she whispered, as the five huddled together in a steadily contracting circle, rotating to cover all angles as the ring of impossible wolves contracted further and further, snarling and growling. The five found one another in the center, and remembering their training, began to move as a group towards one side of the ring, slowly. A wolf growled, another gave a peculiar yelp. One wolf ventured too near, and a quick bolt of magic drove it back, smoldering slightly. Warily, the pack began to gather across from them. They were too swift, River realized. They were going to rush them all, run them down, harry them until they collapsed, and then feast on the exhausted ponies. She began to panic. They were going to die here, alone in the dark. Just like Star Company.

"Hold fast" the Captain said, his voice low. "We can still make it out of this if we're smart. Get ready, so we can-"

He never was able to finish his sentence, not seeing the lone timberwolf that rushed at him from the side, hitting the Pegasus with enough force to bear him to the ground, clawing at his throat and biting him across the face, his crimson blood flying through the air in oddly elegant streams, as the wolf's packmates rushed forward to collect on the kill and to bring down the others.

"Run!" River shouted, and without waiting to see if her comrades were doing the same, sprinted into the forest, hoping to put distance between herself and the pack before they could bring her down like the captain. Hearing noise coming from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see her comrades running behind her. She could only see the amber glow of predator's eyes, blazing with terrible fire as they closed in. She turned to the other side, panting heavily as she ducked through a small clearing, hoping to pick up speed enough to distance herself further from the terrible wolves. An eerie howl echoed through the woods as no less than five wolves burst from the treeline, mouths slavering and dripping with drool in anticipation of their kill, teeth gleaming in the light of the pale moon above.

River pushed herself harder, refusing to die at the teeth of those creatures. She was the fastest runner in their group! She was swifter than the stream that was her namesake, and more nimble than the hulking wolves behind her. Keeping her eyes ahead, she focused on running. Faster and faster she flew, dodging trees and brambles and patches of thorns by the smallest of margins, some whipping at her coat and leaving little trails of crimson despite her armor. Another howl wafted trough the trees, far off and to her right. It had to be another pack, pursuing one of her squadmates! She turned towards the sound, gasping with exertion as she ran faster than she had at any point in her life. If she could find another member of her squad, they might be able to drive off the wolves. They could escape, find a new way out. They could come back with a greater number, with the entire damn Guard if they could. But now she needed to get away, away from the wolves behind her.

The howling around her grew fainter, both behind and in front of her. Lost, River swung her head from side to side, checking to see where her pursues had gone. There was nothing around her on any side. Not trusting the quiet of the forest, she continued running, breath coming in short, desperate gasps as she sprinted through the trees, unknowingly heading deeper into the forest. She ran for several minutes more, hoping to ensure that she would be far away from the pack of wolves. Seeing a large clearing ahead, she altered course. Reaching clear ground, she saw that this place consisted of nothing save for some short, stunted grass, a small spring, and a tree made of some strange wood, a deep red shot through with lines of black that more closely resembled veins than anything else. She wasn't really much of a climber, but if she wanted to assess her situation, she'd have to get high.

A low bough offered a starting point, and she vaulted into the low branches, scrambling up towards the top, as high as she could go. As she pulled herself up by any means necessary, she began to see the forest spread out beneath her, the lower trees around the clearing giving her time to assess her situation. She could see the amber eyes of the wolves below, as they arrived and began to circle the clearing, snarling and growling, but not entering the clearing itself. Confused, she watched them gaze at her, eyes full of blind rage that their prey had escaped them. At a yip from their leader, the group of wolves turned and began to run back into the forest, leaving her for the chance at easier, slower prey. Not daring to move, Running River watched them go, dizzy from exhaustion and the fact that she was alive, alive to fight and run and live another day.

She didn't dare come down from the tree, but now she faced another problem. Her flanks trembled from exhaustion and fear, and her head pounded painfully, a product of her desperate sprint through the woods. These could easily be ignored, after all, she had been trained to run for long distances in armor. But what truly bothered her was the thirst she now felt, an overwhelming need for water, which was right below her. She could see it, and hear it, clear and cool, almost chuckling beneath her as it flowed from its source nearby past her tree and off into the woods.

Curious, she examined the tree further. She had never seen anything remotely like it. The wood was beautiful, save for the lines along it, which reminded her on some disturbing level of veins. The leaves were a deep black, and smelled sweet, a cloying sweetness that only served to make her more thirsty. She tried to distract herself from the sensation by looking at her wooden savior more thoroughly. The trunk was gnarled and twisted, and she could see sap trickling down its length, adding more of the sickly sweet smell to the air. Her breath rasped in her throat, and again she turned her gaze to the stream...no! She couldn't risk climbing down the tree for a drink, much as she would like to. She cursed the lack of foresight they had all had, deciding to leave their packs in their camp outside of town. They hadn't counted on needing to use supplies, and they would only have encumbered them in case they had needed to move quickly, which they had. She continued looking at the tree. Its roots were different than she had expected, smooth as a whole, but she could barely discern small holes in them from which more sap flowed. They extended into the nearby water, tips waving gently in the current, drinking their fill...

She couldn't stand it any more. Looking around furtively, she checked to make sure no visible predators were nearby. Sweeping the surrounding forest, she saw nothing. The gibbous moon shed light on the ground as she checked once more. She would climb down and take a few quick mouthfuls, nothing more. Just enough to take the edge off of her thirst, and then back up the tree she would go until morning. She'd be able to find her way back to town then, get help and come back. That was it. Just a quick drink, and then she'd be fine.

The mare half climbed, half fell out of the strange tree, landing in a quiet heap on the brown, deadened grass below. She got to her hooves quickly, eyes darting from side to side, making sure that the wolves weren't there to catch her before swiftly hobbling to the water. She bent over the stream, which wasn't as clear as she had originally thought. The tips of the roots protruded into the bed of the stream slightly, and more sap, a milky white, was leaking into the water. Running River frowned. She'd never heard of tree roots producing sap, but then, she'd never studied trees.

Bending over further, she tentatively took a sip, holding it in her mouth in case she needed to spit it out. The water was a bit sweet, probably from the sap. But it was good otherwise, and almost without realizing it she had swallowed her small mouthful and had taken another, and then another, as she desperately tried to slake her thirst, which seemed only to grow, her throat burning as she took in as much as she could. Her stomach cramped painfully, and the Earth pony forced herself to stop drinking. She panted slightly, out of breath. She licked her lips, noticing an oily feeling along the roof of her mouth. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Her stomach cramped again, more harshly this time, and she grunted in pain.

Thinking that she had merely drank too much, she began to drag herself back to the tree. Suddenly, her hooves felt as if they had turned to lead, she being unable to move them. She pitched over to one side, suddenly short of breath as she tried to stand. Her stomach cramped again, and she would have gasped in pain if she wasn't suddenly short of breath. Her throat was on fire, and she coughed weakly. A chill washed over her body, and her world began to spin. Her stomach cramped again, and suddenly, River vomited, her stomach spewing out a curious white liquid that smelled sickly sweet. Her face was suddenly wet, and she smelled something that worried her. Blood. A drop leaked from one eye, running into the other, causing her world to tint red.

She tried to scream, but all that came out was a weak rasping noise, followed by another wave of vomit, this one tinged pink. She felt more blood leak from her nose and eyes, and her hearing was replaced only by the sound of her desperately laboring heart as she vomited a third time, this time a bloody red. Little chunks of...of her...were floating in it, and she found herself unable to think for the pain. An itching began all over her body, as the incredibly potent poison released by the roots of the tree did its work, blisters and boils erupting with hideous speed all over her body. Nowhere was spared, as she felt them grow under her legs, along her chest, under the skin of her neck, and she felt her face beginning to swell as she began to vomit again, and again, the color deepening from bloody red to a terrible black, as she began to liquify from the inside out, unable to help herself. She released at the other end as well, no longer able to control any part of her body. Her head throbbed in time with her failing heart as the stench of feces and blood and urine filled the air, overlaid with that horrible sweet smell. At last, she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, and found herself wishing for the merciful black. The poison obliged her, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost consciousness for the last time, and her soul fled the now desiccated husk lying on the forest floor.

But the tree was not done with its work. The mare's body even now began to decompose in earnest, the boils bursting and oozing pus and blood as her skin sloughed off like so much garbage, more liquid than anything else. The first of her blood seeped into the thirsty roots and the stream, as the tree greedily absorbed the nutrients the young mare had been carrying. Impassively, it drank deeply as her eyes rotted in their sockets, and her muscles began to deteriorate as well, the powerful corrosive eating through her armor at an impressive rate. The pitiful pile of bones and viscera on the ground no longer resembled a pony in any way, shape, or form. Still the tree's poison ate at the corpse, as the last of the sinew and muscle of the late Running River seeped into the ground as so much liquid. The bones yellowed and cracked. They would take longer to consume than the muscles, and were less nutritious, but they would eventually become part of the tree as well. Nothing would remain of her, not even the armor, which would return to the earth.

The tree finished its meal, and if one had the imagination, one could almost imagine a satisfied sigh emerging from the branches, though that was surely just a product of the wind, which had began to pick up once more. There was a moment of calm, as the wind stopped, and then it began once more, in far greater intensity. The tree began to vibrate a bit, and then it did a something most unusual, and normally quite impossible for a tree. It began to hum, a slow and steady tone that reverberated throughout the forest as the great monarch of the woods gathered energy to itself. Storm clouds formed overhead, and lightning crackled along the branches as the tree began to discharge all of the excess energy it had gathered over the year. Normally it took a bit longer, but the mare had been full of nutrients, and now the tree fulfilled the task it had since time eternal. A bolt of lightning shot from the tree, towards the sky, leaving its branches smoking, and the veins along its length a bone white. Its leaves fell to the grass below, and soon it was skeletal and bare. The wind picked up again, and as always, the timberwolves sent up a cry. The clouds began to move towards a sleepy hamlet on the edge of the great forest.

The Zap Apple harvest would be both good and early this year.

Rusty

Rusty cursed his bad luck as he limped through the underbrush, one hind leg dragging uselessly behind him, the ligament torn and bleeding, rendering it useless for walking. The Earth pony had made sure that the timberwolves hadn't found him an easy target, but it had cost him dearly. He was covered in small nips and scratches, and his hooves were cracked from the force of his blows, which had shattered wood and sent wolves flying. The wound that troubled him most was his leg, however. It was mangled badly, the product of one wolf who had been just a bit more foolish or brave than its brethren, and it had paid off. It had torn into the limb, ripping and tearing, and trying to bring him down. He had killed it for that, using his other leg to buck it hard enough that its wooden skull had caved in, the amber flame that had spat from its eyes turning inward, consuming the beast in a flash of fire. It had been at this point that the wolves had fled.

He had looked around for the members of his squad. River had fled, along with Applewood and Quick Trick shortly afterward. He had stayed to guard the Captain, and had been surprised when the majority of the pack had pursued his comrades into the darkness, leaving him to fight the ones who had been responsible for the death of his leader.

He supposed that he shouldn't blame River for panicking. She was the youngest and newest of the group, hardly grown enough to join. He had a sister almost her age at home in Hoofington, and as such he felt a need to protect her, even though he knew she could handle herself adequately in a fight. So, after his own fight was done, he had set off in the direction he thought she might have gone, leaving a little trail of blood behind him. Onwards through the woods he had limped, further and further away from the edge, though he didn't know it. An owl shrieked in the darkness above him, and he cast his gaze towards the treetops, to see if he could find it. There was no such luck, of course, but he did notice the moon overhead, which was turning more towards gold and less towards white. He dragged himself through a clearing, occupied only by an unusual tree, bare of leaves and smelling faintly of sweetness and death. He looked to the trunk, noticing that some unfortunate thing had died near the spring flowing by its roots. He did want a drink, but he knew full well that whatever the dead thing had leaked was likely in the water, making it unfit for consumption. And so, onward he went.

The woods on the other side began a downward slope, taking him away from high ground. Rusty frowned, realizing he was lost. He checked the moon again, trying to get an idea of where he was. It was almost as if the damn thing was changing its direction in the sky. He could have sworn that he was near the edge of the woods, but it seemed to him now that he was heading deeper inside. He debated turning around briefly, and then realized that there was really no point, at least not until he found River. And he would find her, of that he was certain.

The downward slope continued, and the trees gave way to loose sand and shale as he fought to keep his footing. He nearly fell once or twice, and several times a rock or stone he had previously thought solid gave way below his hooves, tumbling into the gully below him with a rumble and crash. He found his progress slowing as he tried to avoid falling into the darkness below, and he made the decision to climb back up out of the valley, hoping to circle around it somehow.

"Help!" a high pitched voice called, echoing through the darkness. "Somepony help! Please!"

Rusty's head whipped around. That voice wasn't familiar, but he knew very well what kind of voice it was. A young filly or colt was trapped down in the valley. There was a high pitched scream, and he knew then that it was a filly.

The voice screamed again. "Ouch! Somepony help, please!"

He didn't even have to think about it. Immediately, he began the climb back down into the valley, aiming for the spot where he had heard the filly's voice coming from. "Hold tight, I'm coming!" he called, crawling down carefully, wincing as his wounded leg fought to support itself.

There was a pause, and then the voice replied. "Please, help! Help! It hurts, help!"

Rusty moved even faster, rocks and debris raining down behind him as he crawled down the side of the slope. He was sure that he was right on top of wherever the filly was, or at least very close by. He could see the bottom of the canyon below, and a dark cluster of rocks. "Are you alright?" he shouted, skittering down the last hundred yards or so. His voice bounced of the walls of the canyon, echoing back and forth confusingly.

"Help! It hurts, help! Is anypony there? Help!" the voice shouted.

Rusty looked around wildly. He could see no place for a filly to be hiding save the cluster of rocks ahead. Down the length of the canyon he limped, past a few scraggly pines and the pockmarked face of a cliff before reaching his destination. He looked around the pile, unable to find a thing. The precariously balanced boulders shifted ominously as he searched for the filly. "Are you in there?" he called, trying to find the source of the voice. So preoccupied was he with the search that he failed to notice the topmost boulder shifting position. This would go badly for him. With a mighty rumble, the boulder, as big as he was, fell from the top of the pile. Rusty's eyes widened as he tried to escape, and he threw himself to one side, hitting the ground. He wasn't fast enough, and with a sickening *crunch*, the boulder landed on Rusty's wounded back leg, pinning him in place.

He screamed then, a scream of pain that echoed far and wide across the canyon as he wildly struggled to free himself from underneath the heavy stone to no avail, his frenzied thrashing only worsening the situation, as the boulder sank into the soft earth of the canyon, crushing his leg further as he continued to scream in agony. Finally, he forced himself to stop moving, groaning as he collected himself. Collecting his thoughts, and trying to ignore the pain in his leg, he spoke. "You okay, filly? Don't worry, I'll get you out of there, I promise."

"Is anypony there? Please help! Ouch! Help, please! No, it hurts! Stop!" There was another scream. "Ouch! Help! Mommy! Help, somepony!"

Rusty frowned. "I'm right here! Don't worry, I'll get you out! Where are you?"

There was a scrabbling from behind the massive Earth pony. He craned his head wildly, trying to see where the noise was coming from. At last, he was able to see what was causing the commotion behind him, as it scampered over one of his shoulders stopping right in front of him. A squirrel, or rodent of some description, was looking at him curiously, its coat the dark brownish red of rust or old wood. It regarded him with an air of detached amusement, as if taking pleasure in his plight. Suddenly, the Earth pony realized that something was very off about the situation. It raised one paw, which was tipped with a gleaming claw, and quickly, almost clinically, opened up a small cut across his face, which ran crimson with blood. Rusty flinched, grunting in pain. He shoved the animal away with one of his good hooves.

It looked back at him, and then opened its mouth, revealing razor sharp teeth, needle thin and stained with something brown. It inhaled briefly, and then shrieked. "Help, somepony help! Help, somepony help!"

Another one, the same color, joined its brother. "Ouch! Ouch! Help! Ouch!"

Rusty thought furiously. They were carnivorous, obviously. They were mimics, that much was clear. But they were small, and few. So long as he kept them at bay, he should be fine. They'd think him difficult prey to be sure. They probably ate other, smaller animals, not ponies. A thought occurred to him. Where had they heard the sound of a filly screaming in pain? His gaze was drawn to the squirrels once more. There were five now. One opened its mouth and screamed again.

"Mommy! Mommy! Ah! No, please! Mommy!"

"It hurts! It hurts! Ouch!"

"Please, no more, no more..."

One made a peculiar choking sound, as if the filly was choking on some unidentified liquid. "My wings! Get off my wings! No! No!"

As Rusty watched, more and more of the rodents arrived. Ten, twenty, thirty and more, perched on top of whatever was handy, all watching him calmly. One crept closer, and he swung a wild hoof at it. It retreated cautiously. He noticed that while he was distracted, several more had moved closer, exposing needle teeth, moonlight gleaming off of their coats which now more closely resembled the color of dried blood. Another attempted to reach him, flanked by two of its brethren. Rusty swung another hoof. "Go on, get! Go!"

The rodent looked at him. "Go on, get!" it said, mimicking his voice perfectly.

The entire pack inched closer to him. Several moved to the sides. Rusty struggled to get to his hooves, to fight or to run he wasn't sure. His leg was well and truly stuck, and now he could smell blood leaking from beneath the the stone. The rodents could smell it too, he could tell. Their eyes glittered unpleasantly as they inched closer, and closer still, waiting for an opening. He felt the weight of one on his back, and shifted desperately to dislodge it, which was all the incentive the pack needed to begin.

Unable to kill him directly, the pack swarmed him, as the stallion screamed and fought, swiping wildly at his face, his neck, his sides, knocking several off, killing one or two. But the creatures were resourceful, and fought well together. Rusty bellowed as one tore an eye from its socket, scampering away with its prize. Another set to work burrowing inside of him, finding the soft spot between the spokes of his ribs. He fought harder than ever, but to no avail, as blood ran in rivulets down his sides, pooling beneath him. With no other option available, he began to beat himself wildly against the ground, begging and pleading for the creatures to stop.

He could feel the one who had been chewing at his ribs slip inside of him, followed by others. Desperately, he fought to stay conscious despite the massive blood loss he was experiencing, but this was one battle he was doomed to lose. His struggles weakened as more and more of him was consumed, and the stallion, a true warrior, lay still on the ground, well beyond pain, well beyond madness, simply numb and dying. By some cruel twist of fate, though, he was not dead. The animals burst from his chest cavity, spilling blood and viscera behind them as the stallion's head twisted to see his guts laying on the cold ground. Though he was blind, another rodent having taken his other eye, he could still sense what had been done. The violated stallion knew then that it was done, and as he laid his head down for the final time, he felt the pain go away, replaced by warmth, and light. Through the terrible darkness, he swore he could see River waiting for him, a sad smile on her face, as well as a brilliant being, horn and wings gleaming in the light rising from her in gentle waves. The stallion felt his soul slip from his mortal shell as he left the world behind, gazing back at the writhing mass that was once his body.

The creatures finished their feast, and stepped aside. Young ones, squeaking in high pitched tones, were allowed to approach once the kill was sure to present no threat. Eagerly, the half-starved things tore into the first real food they had eaten in days. There was a quiet murmur of assent among the animals. They would need to leave the valley soon. The river had dried up, taking with it the only real reason for birds or smaller animals to enter the valley, and depriving the mimics of their prey. It had been nearly a year since the last meal of any substance had entered the valley, the swarm of rodents attacking her out of desperation and hunger. There was no other option. The young were grown enough to travel. The pack would move to better ground soon. They had no other choice, were they to live.

The moon watched appreciatively as the pack disappeared to the trees, deepening from gold to orange.

Applewood

Applewood struggled to keep his horn lit as he sprinted through the forest after Quick Trick, not wanting to lose her among the trees. The mare had let her hornlight go out, and so he was following the sounds of cracking branches coming from in front of him, or was it behind him? He wound his way through a small valley, trying desperately to catch up to the unicorn in front of him. She ws fast, though that wasn't why he was having trouble keeping up to her. She was exceptionally nimble, able to weave through the thickets of trees with ease, panicking despite herself and despite the fact that they had long since left the wolves behind. Applewood couldn't even hear the wolves anymore. He could hear panting coming from ahead of him, but was unsure as to where it was coming from.

A pale light shone from the trees to his left. Trick's hornlight, he was sure. Angling his body to pursue her, he plunged downhill, leaping over a patch of brambles, eager to catch the light in front of him. It bobbed and wove enticingly, heading deeper into the woods and leaving him behind. He pushed harder, trying to close the distance, but it remained elusive as ever. He stumbled over a low branch, and opened up a gash along his foreleg, but ignored the pain, continuing his pursuance of the enticing light. He saw it flicker again, a low red and then blue, before returning to the pale white he had seen earlier.

He slowed, unsure if he should be continuing. Something felt very off about this place, something he couldn't quite put his hoof on. The only hoofbeats he could hear were his own, and the forest around him seemed to press closer as if herding him towards something, pointing him towards someplace he would not like to go. The light flickered once more, and called his name.

Applewood...

That voice...what voice was that? Such sweetness and light were contained within that voice! And it knew him! That beautiful sound, it knew his name! He redoubled his efforts, weaving deeper into the darkened forest, forsaking his duty and his comrades, the thought of finding that sound once more the only thing on his mind. The cut on his leg opened wider, crimson liquid speckling the low leaves behind him and seeping into the ground. The plants drank it thirstily as he passed by. The light danced among the trees again, flickering in mesmerizing patterns, and flashing through all the colors of the rainbow and more besides, colors he had no name for, and if anypony else had saw them, they too would have been unable to describe it, save for one very appropriate word. Enchanting.

The unicorn ran without any concept of time, without any idea of how long he had run. He only knew that he needed to pursue the voice, and the light, wherever it led. He ran over streams and through bramble patches, past a clearing containing a single skeletal tree, and skirting a sandy, rock filled valley as he pursued the strange apparition. Any thought of Quick Trick was forgotten. Applewood had decided to pursue the light. Not that he had a choice.

At last, the light began to slow just a bit, tantalizing the stallion by remaining just far enough away that he couldn't make out any distinguishing features. A clearing waited just ahead, and he could have sworn he saw movement inside. The light slipped through the last of the trees, and he burst into the open mere moments later. What he saw was a vision of such beauty that he sank to his knees in awe.

A massive tree stood in the center of the clearing, its branches hanging low with some of the strangest fruit he had seen in his life, fruit that shimmered and glowed with a silvery light, occasionally gleaming in blue or red or gold. The air smelled of pine needles and warm fruit and flowers, and a thousand other things besides. The tree was not what he was gasping at, however. There, dancing around the tree, were ponies. Although, these ponies, all mares, were like none he had ever seen. They were slender, outlandishly so. Their features were possessed of such unearthly beauty that he felt himself beginning to weep at their fairness, and their ears were gracefully pointed. Each one wore a laurel of some different flower or herb, and sang in a language he could not understand, though the sound of their song filled his heart with both great joy and a terrible sorrow. Each wore a coat of pure white, and long manes that nearly reached their hooves, bound into cunning braids and knots, or left loose to sway as they danced, laughing and singing.

Applewood moved as if in a trance, slowly and sluggishly, towards the tree in the clearing's center, and the beautiful creatures dancing around it. Without noticing, his hooves carried him over a circle of woven vines in the ground. It was only once he was in the center of the circle, with no part of his body outside of it, that the mares around the tree, nine in all, noticed his presence. Knowing smiles curled their lips as they beckoned to the unicorn, who obeyed the unspoken command without hesitation. One mare, her features young and her body small, took him in her hooves, dragging him into the circle. Her eyes were as opals, shimmering with a thousand colors in the light of the moon. Her laurel was one of primroses, and she laid him down, binding it into his mane carefully. Another with a mane blacker than night stepped forward and did the same with her own laurel, a blossom of foxglove joining it. Applewood watched in wonder as these beautiful mares one by one did the same, and his mane filled with rosemary, ragwort, oak leaves, and others.

He was gently brought to his hooves once more, and the nine mares struck up their song once more, moving around the tree slowly at first, but gradually increasing their speed as Applewood felt himself moving with more grace and surety. The wind sighed in the boughs as he was spun and danced by the unearthly beauties, his body quivering with exhaustion, the pungent tang of sweat mingling with the wonderful scent of the clearing as he at last collapsed, utterly spent.

The mares huddled around him sympathetically, giggling at his predicament. The red-haired mare flitted over to the tree, and though he could not see how she had done it, she reappeared with one of the beautiful apples. Applewood looked at it distrustfully, not sure if he should eat it or not. The mare gave a silvery laugh. Raising it to her own lips, she took a small bite, chewing thoroughly and then swallowing. She opened her mouth, showing him that it was gone. She held up the apple again, raising it to his lips. He looked at it doubtfully one more time before quashing his doubts and taking a small mouthful of the fruit.

The first thing he noticed was that it was sour, nearly unbearably so. His face screwed up, and he prepared to spit it out, but a gentle hoof to his lips stopped him, and he noticed the flavor becoming much more pleasant. He tasted apples, of course, but also berries, and honey, and something spicy that may have been cinnamon or cloves. A wonderful warm feeling spread over him, and he felt a new energy coursing through his veins, and the edges of his vision took on a strange quality, glorious colors flickering around the very edges of his sight as he rose to his hooves once more, and the dance continued.

As they danced, Applewood noticed they were moving ever closer to the tree. For what purpose he did not know, but he found himself being drawn towards an old crook in the trunk of the tree, a strange warping of the wood that almost resembled a seat. The nine mares gently pushed him onto the seat, as they stopped in front of him and began to sing once more, their otherworldly voices causing him to shudder as chills ran up and down his back. The mare with the red mane stepped forward, and with one forceful motion, pushed him backwards, closing the distance between them and transfixing him with those beautiful eyes of hers. Applewood's breath came quick and short as she leaned in, her lips meeting his in a kiss as the unicorn felt his back press against the bark of the tree, and the song took on an altogether different, but no less beautiful tone.

Deeper and deeper went the kiss, the mare leaning into him as he went limp, pushed back against the tree. Her body was close, so very close to his own, and he could feel nothing but her and the kiss and the bark against his back, see nothing but her and the beautiful harvest moon behind her...his eyes closed as he felt rational thought slipping away, losing himself in sensation and the primal need of the kiss. This truly was heaven, the unicorn thought, as he sank deeper, leaning into the tree behind him. The bark of the tree parted around him lovingly, welcoming the stallion into its embrace as the mare followed him deeper inside. The bark closed around his midsection, and one by one his hooves disappeared under the wood. At last, only his face remained, eyes empty, expression blank. The mare stepped back, her duty done. The bark closed around his face at last, leaving only a bulge that shifted once, twice...and was still.

The mares stepped back as one, their sister joining their ranks as they bowed to the tree they loved so dearly. A warm wind blew through the clearing, and the mares turned their attention back to their dance, laughing and smiling under the light of a beautiful orange harvest moon.

Quick Trick

Quick Trick sprinted headlong through the trees. She'd been running for hours, her hooves cracked and bleeding from stress, and her breath came in short bursts. She knew that she had outrun the wolves pursuing her, that had not been an issue. What she was running from was far worse. At least, to her fevered mind, it was. Her desperate struggle to escape the wolves had taken her right through a patch of a strange fungus, a patch she had fallen face first into, sending a cloud of spores directly into her face. A startled breath had been all it took, and now the mare ran from the demons inside her head, shadowy figures with too many teeth, gleaming claws, gibbering voices, or chasing down some figment of her imagination, the hallucinogens managing to convince her that safety was but a few paces away as she moved farther and farther away from the edge of the forest.

She stumbled, fell, kept running. She coughed out another cloud of spores, finally clearing the powerful toxin from her system. The chemicals affecting her mind began to lessen, and she began to feel the exhaustion that came with so much running, staggering drunkenly from side to side as her rational mind warred with the panicked part of her, her shattered psyche spinning in circles until exhaustion finally won out. Even though she wanted nothing more than to collapse, her analytical mind took stock of the situation and determined that she would need to go to ground until the sun rose. Then she could find her way out of this accursed forest, and back home.

Spying a small hollow, she swept it to make sure no predators could approach without her noticing. There was only one opening, and so she proceeded inside the thicket, brushing a few spiderwebs out of her face as she curled up on her side, waiting for her opportunity to flee. Little did the mare know that she would never get that opportunity. She set a simple ward in front of her tiny space in the bushes, and soon she had fallen into a fitful slumber. There was a period of brief silence, undisturbed save for the mare's own breathing. A quiet breeze blew through the dense growth, dislodging a small spider, an inoffensive thing of grey and black. Another followed it. And another. Then two, then four, and ten. The mare shifted slightly. A dozen sets of fangs worked together, injecting her with a quiet venom that sent her into deeper sleep. The trees were illuminated by the bloody light of a newly red harvest moon, revealing what lurked within. Spiders, by the hundreds, by the thousands, dwelling in tangled webs that swung gently from the branches. The soldiers ascended into the treetops, their work was done. Soon, the females dropped down, swaying ponderously from thick strands of silk as they landed on the mare and began their work.

Quick Trick opened her eyes. Something was wrong, very wrong. Her muscles felt strange, like they had simply melted away, leaving her with useless lumps of flesh that weighed her down. She attempted to lift her head, but could not. Curious, she reached for her magic, but a splitting headache drove her focus away before she could summon light. Her whole body itched, and she felt a tingling sensation across her back and stomach. With a titanic effort of will, she looked down, and were she able to scream, she would have.

The young mare's body was pockmarked with holes, dark, blackened holes with bruising around the edges, giving her the look of a desiccated corpse. They were grouped in small patches that combined into a horrific tapestry of pitted flesh. And that wasn't all. Small lumps moved about under her skin. As she watched, a delicate leg pushed out of her coat, followed by another, and then a few more. A spider, almost small enough to be invisible in the low light, crawled out of another freshly made hole, dropping out of her with a chitinous click before skittering off into the darkness. She hardly felt a thing. A weight landed on her head, and Quick Trick felt legs moving down to her neck before climbing onto her stomach. A fully grown spider, loathsome and bloated with eggs that were almost ready to hatch, found a blank patch of skin. She felt fangs sink into her, pumping venom into the tissue in order to soften it and deaden feeling. An ovipositor slid out of the arachnid's abdomen, impaling her neatly. The mother spider held perfectly still as the eggs slid, one after another, into the mare.

The patch of eggs was still for a moment, and then she watched as they began to shudder and move as they hatched and began to burrow away, taking nourishment from her as they tunneled to the top, before punching through to the surface, leaving a neat hole in her hide as they vanished. Quick Trick tried to scream, to do something, anything, but she could not. She felt more spiders landing, more bites, more eggs. She felt the burrowing of the young, and though she was not bleeding, she could feel her life ebbing away slowly as she was slowly consumed from the inside out. The mare laid there, unable to do a thing to help herself, and cried. At least that was available to her.

As the moon set, the mare was used again and again, birthing the colony's young as she lay powerless on the ground. Soon enough, she was completely unrecognizable, and unresponsive. She slipped quietly into unconsciousness after six hours, and it was shortly after that that her heart stopped and her spirit fled to join her comrades in death.

Twilight Sparkle looked out over the fields. They were quiet and dark, lying fallow and untended. The planting would begin in spring, and they had stores enough to get them through winter if they were careful and received regular shipments to the old castle she now occupied. The mare standing at her side was silent, waiting on her to speak as they looked at the blood red moon that was beginning to set.

"Why was it necessary for them to die?" Twilight asked.

The mare sighed. She was as old as this forest, and knew everything about it. It was her life, and she tended to it carefully. Her magic was almost unlimited in the trees of the Everfree.

"Each year, the Forest takes lives in return for giving life throughout the year. One night of violence for a year of prosperity for all living inside. You wish a good harvest next year. This will be done. But until then, I am afraid that the Forest will take its payment, as it always has."

Twilight was silent. The mare continued.

"This is the time of year where every thing must die, Twilight Sparkle. Death is part of life. Rest assured that those ponies are nourishing the forest. The timber wolves have fed. Your friend's apple harvest will be extremely good this year. A family with young has found the strength to leave for new ground. The trees in the forest will bloom beautifully in spring, wait and see. And a new generation of young now walk the land, ready to live because another had died. It's a cycle, young one."

Twilight sighed. "Are they at peace now?"

The mare smiled. Her gaze was far away, as if she was watching something play out in front of her that Twilight could not see.

"Aye, dear, they're at peace now. That I can vouch for. The sun is going up, and you've not slept all night. You've a lover waiting for you to come to bed. Will you go to her?"

Twilight nodded. "Yes. I will. Goodnight, and thank you."

The mare bowed. "You're quite welcome, Lady Sparkle."

The dungeon beneath Canterlot echoed with low laughter, a beautiful and terrifying sound. Contained within its walls were two goddesses, one in chains, another in tears.

"Those five had families, Luna! They were only doing their jobs! You had no need to bring out the blood moon tonight, none at all! Do you have any idea of the suffering you've caused?"

The dark Alicorn smiled. "Aye. They suffered greatly. And I smiled all the while. They brought it on themselves, you know. The Everfree would not have harmed them if they had not entered with the intent to do harm. But you know that, don't you, sister?"

The Monarch of the Dawn was furious. "You can rot down here for eternity, I could care less right now. Maybe you aren't deserving of Harmony after all, if you take pleasure in this."

"In the deaths of innocents? No. In anything that sets you back? It gives me great pleasure, more than you could imagine. And had I the choice once more, I'd spend all of my remaining power over again to kill them all."

Princess Celestia said not a word. A golden-shod hoof swung through the air, leaving a bruise alongside Luna's face. Luna spat at her sister as the white Alicorn exited the cell, shutting the door behind her. A quick trot up the stairs, through a secret passage, and she was in her chambers once more. She divested herself of her ceremonial garb, and naked, stepped onto the balcony. The moon shone a deep blood red, almost full but not quite. There was a reason ponies called this moon Luna's smile. Along the top, hiding the full light, was a crescent of black, a smile the same shade as her sister's coat. A chill breeze blew past, and Celestia shivered. She looked to the forest where five ponies had died tonight, bowing her head in respect briefly, before retreating to her bed, pulling the balcony shut. She would not sleep tonight, and would ward herself against the dark forces roaming the land, just as the farmers did. Because the farmers knew, oh yes.

They knew all too well.