Wartime for Ponies

Whitefang

Howls and snarls filled the air as the enormous wolf pack emerged from the Everfree forest. Their claws and fangs anxious to bite and slash into whoever was stupid enough to cross their path. It happened at night. On the outskirts of Ponyville, a host was on the move.

As they all marched towards the frontier and into the promise of fresh meat and blood. Their great leader Whitefang the Scarred, howled into the moonlit skies.

His pack was the largest to ever terrify the Everfree, and it had been by decree of the creator and god of chaos that he had been designated as their leader.

The army of timberwolves emerged from the treeline, following a single male timberwolf.

Whitefang was terrifying.

The bark that made up his body was of oaken trees, some of the first to ever grow among the depths of the forest. His fangs were birch, and his eyes were of yellow so pure, that anyone who saw the orbs of hatred would feel fear their hearts.

Whitefang was twice the height of any normal timberwolf, and his strength was to match.

The large beast of the Everfree howled once more and his followers formed a line along the edge of the forest. Each and every one of the twenty timberwolves ready to heed Whitefang's commands.

The oaken wolf gazed at the settlement before him. It had a name, he was certain of that. But he did not care to know it. The master had given him commands, orders to destroy the populace and let no one live.

Some power lurked in that town, a weapon of sorts in pony form.

Whitefang snarled hatefully and bared his fangs. He then turned to face the rest of his pack. The wolves bowed their heads at their lord and master, knowing full well what he did to those who disobeyed.

Whitefang howled into the skies once more. Signaling it was time to attack.

The night air was engulfed in the hatred infused howls of an army as the twenty one timberwolves charged forward, murder in their eyes.

The town ahead looked annoyingly bright in Whitefang's eyes. The colors and liveliness of its buildings shining even amidst the darkness of night. His keen hunter's eyes had to adjust to the brightness as the pack neared an apple farm just outside of town.

Whitefang growled viciously as the first set of defenses came into view.

Barricades. Dozens of them had been set up along the white fence and on the dirt road leading to the settlement. Earth ponies were standing behind them, waiting for the inevitable.

A bloodthirsty grin spread across the snouts of the wolves as the ponies came into view. They stood so proud and decided. Nothing more than meat for the killers of the Everfree.

Whitefang was panting with eagerness, saliva falling from his mouth as his pace increased. His followers sped up as he did, anxiously wanting to bite into the soft flesh of an equine.

Orders were shouted from the barricades as the ponies tried to organize themselves, but it was in vain. Whitefang had the fiercest of Timberwolves at his command, and a few ponies with sharpened stakes were not going to stop him.

The monsters doubled their pace, all of them putting extra effort into the charge. Anticipation of the prize at the end was strong, and the beasts found themselves fast approaching.

The earth ponies widened their eyes in fear as the shapes of the beasts broke through the shadows of the night.

Stallions and mares pressed their bodies against the barricades in hope that it would be enough to keep the wolves at bay.

Earth ponies behind their defensive structures steeled themselves for the battle to come.

Timberwolves howled as one and leapt.

The massacre that followed was horrifying.

Whitefang jumped over the first of the barricades, landing a meter behind the earth ponies that defended it.

With a vicious snarl, the wolf turned around and charged.

Three earth ponies screamed. Two in fright, one in anger.

As the behemoth of a wolf neared them, the oldest of the three ponies jumped to meet him in the middle. He shouted, angry look in his eyes, as he swung his hoof in an attempt to knock Whitefang to the side.

The wolf opened his jaws and an evil glimmer passed over his eyes as he brought them closed on the earth pony's leg.

The younger ponies screamed in terror as Whitefang the Scarred, Whitefang the Mutilator, Whitefang the Blood Drenched Snout, shook his head wildly, dragging the earth pony along.

A sickening snap was heard as the pony's leg was dislocated. Screams followed, and Whitefang tossed the agonizing pony to the side, chuckling grimly.

All around them similar skirmishes could be seen, with timberwolves destroying the earth pony defenses. Sparing no one.

Whitefang smiled at the two remaining earth ponies. They reminded him of his brothers. Young and pathetic. The burden of the pack, always fearing combat and never inflicting pain as it was needed.

Those two were like them. So similar in fact, that Whitefang considered killing them as he had done with his brothers.

The great wolf took a menacing step forward, evil yellow eyes staring at the ponies before him. Intent on killing them slowly, savoring down to the last ounce of painful screaming as they writhed beneath his claws.

But another sound brought him to attention.

From the distance, as the sun dawned on a new morning. A horn was heard.

All timberwolves snarled angrily and crouched, ready to jump and tear whatever emerged from the town to pieces.

Whitefang looked from the trembling ponies to the settlement in the distance, and growled. Annoyed at being denied his fun. Turning back to the two ponies, he swiped a powerful paw at each of them, slicing their throats open.

Much to swiftly for his pleasure.

The great oaken wolf turned back to the town, furious look in his eyes.

Timberwolves quieted down as their leader moved through their ranks. Slow steps, counted steps.

From the town, the shine of armored troops began to show as the sun was reflected on their golden surfaces. The banners bearing the standards of the princesses.

Whitefang glared at them. With his head lowered and claws extended, the great wolf let out a guttural growl that reached the ears of all and any who were close by.

Every timberwolf howled long and mighty into the raising dawn, their fangs drenched in the stench of blood and flesh. Behind them lay the corpses of all and every earth pony that had dared stand before them.

And now, with their glaring eyes set on a new prize, the wolves followed their master.

Whitefang placed paw after the other, increasing his pace rapidly. Yellow eyes set upon his next prey, upon the next corpse.

The equestrian line stood firm.

The wolves growled angrily.

Whitefang broke into a run.

He did not know how many he faced, he did not care. He was the fiercest beast to emerge from the depths of the forest and he was about to show the ponies what he did to his foes.

The great wolf ran towards the town, pack behind him growling and snarling as they neared the enemy battle line. Their only thought was blood, their only purpose was to feed.

Whitefang the Scarred let out a long, terrifying howl as he neared the enemy lines. His last howl.

The unicorns that made up the equestrian line lowered their heads, shining helmets surrounding their horns. An order was given, the soldiers focused their magic.

And a barrage of magical fire was thrown at the approaching timberwolves.

Whitefang reeled backwards on his hind legs, and growled in pain inflicted rage. His followers whined and howled in torture as the fire ate through their bark and roasted their innards.

The timberwolf charge was broken.

Individuals ran off whining in pain as they burned. Others fell to the ground and died. The bravest tried to press onwards, but fell dead inches short of their targets.

But there was one who resisted.

Whitefang growled in hateful pain as he pounced from the flames and tore the unicorn before him to pieces. The last thing the poor soul saw was the hatred in the wolf's eyes.

Unicorns began to back away while they concentrated their flames on Whitefang, literally throwing him into an inferno no matter where he turned.

The great wolf did not rest however. Even as his eyes melted from their sockets, even as the bark along his body cracked and turned to ashes. He fought on.

Whitefang blindly swiped a paw at the group of ponies, and connected with a mare's face. The blow shattered her jaw and ripped out her eyes. Whitefang growled and charged, engulfed in flames.

It took the unicorns ten minutes and four more casualties to kill the great Whitefang. The Scarred, the Mutilator, the Blood Drenched Snout.

His scorched body fell on its side and stopped moving. Lifeless, and with no more fight in him, Whitefang died. But he died with blood on his fangs, with enemy corpses surrounding him and with the certainty that in the future, everywhere in the country.

Stories of the great oaken wolf would be told.

Forever.