Chapters AJ looked at the poor wretch in the bed, whirling like a twister in his sleep. If he twirled any faster he would roll himself out of the bed and across the room. The poor guy must have been having the most terrible nightmares. She tilted her head and thought. Why was he haunted so? Had he been through something terrible? Or was he just unlucky? She adjusted her hat and sighed. If he didn't learn to trust her, she may never know. Then again, it was his right to have his own secrets.
She stood as she heard heavy hoof steps near the door of the barn. She turned to face Big Macintosh as he approached, looking curiously at the form in the bed. He had helped her bring him in, but hadn't gotten a good look at him before going out to complete his chores. Really he wasn't getting a good look at him now, the way he was thrashing. "He give you a name?" he said, his voice rumbling from deep within his chest.
She shook her head sadly. "Nope. He just acted real suspicious, then toppled back on over. I barely even gave him mine."
Mac came closer to him and looked hard at him, looking harder when the pony stopped moving. "Interesting Cutie Mark..."
AppleJack stood next to her brother. "Yeah, Ah saw that too. Was gonna ask him about it, but again, he passed out."
Big Mac made a face. "Never seen one with a key before..."
AJ nodded. "Ah know. But he ain't gonna tell us what it is while he's asleep. All your chores done for the day?"
"Eeyup."
She smiled to herself. "Then let's go see what Granny's made for supper. We'll come by later with a bowl for him."
"Hope she made apples. Ah like apples."
...
Sometime later, unbeknownst to the Apple Family, a figure quietly crept form the barn. He had eaten the food left for him, and it was good. He felt a little bit bad about this, them having shown him so much kindness. But only for a second. Then he got over it. He padded over to the main house, making less noise than a mouse on a thick padded carpet. He moved with all the grace in the world, never even seeming to touch the ground at all. It certainly would explain his noiselessness.
Feeling the soft grass under his hooves, he felt alive again. Not due to the grass, that was just grass, no matter how good it felt. No, it was the hunt. He loved it. There couldn't have been any greater joy in the world. The thrill of getting away and not being caught was too wonderful to stay away from for long. And a mark like this would be easier than most any of his recent conquests.
He slipped in easily through the window, the lock being undone. He perched on the sill for a second out of habit. It used to be for checking for magical alarms. This time it was just to scope. There wasn't much of great worth in the old house, but there had to be something. A jewelry box, at least. Some kind of family heirlooms. Everyone had something, and he could typically sniff it out.
He dropped down lightly, his hooves making only the slightest tapping sound as he landed. He allowed himself the slightest chuckle. He hadn't lost any of his good stuff. He was still the best. Moving quickly, he began to search, starting with the closest bedroom. An old green mare rocked slowly in her chair, snoring softly. He moved slowly once inside the room, being sure not to wake her. These older ponies could sometimes surprise you, waking up at the slightest of sounds. He rummaged through the drawers, finding next to nothing of value. Out of habit, he went to put a necklace in one of the pouched strapped to his chest, but he remembered quickly that it wasn't there anymore. He had left it behind when he ran...
He shook his head, pushing it out of his mind. It didn't do any good to think of it now. He could just get more pouches at a later date. After all, he did still have his vest pockets. For the moment, he quickly put the necklace on his own neck. He would have to limit himself if he came across anything good in the other rooms. Only take what he could wear or carry. Finding only the necklace, he moved to the next room, where he found a massive red stallion. He would have to be careful here too, despite the obvious fact that he was a tremendously heavy sleeper. If he woke up, it was over. He looked like he was strong and powerful enough to be one of the Princess's guards.
Nothing turned up in this room either. This room was even simpler than the last, having only a bed and a small dresser with a few bandanas. As he closed the dresser drawer, he looked out at the moon. It was beautiful as always. Night was always his favorite time. If he couldn't be working, he would at least take some time to look at the sky before bed. He hadn't been able to see it for some time, though, during the lockdown. It had been lonely, not being able to see the moon...
He cleared his head again. What was it about this farm that made him so reflective? Had he been anywhere else, he wouldn't be thinking about these things. He would be content to arrive and vanish, like always. He left the room, returning the door to the proper place, and went to the last bedroom on this floor. As always, he opened the door slowly and carefully. The pretty orange mare from earlier was sleeping soundly, snoring a little bit less than gracefully. An old, somewhat battered Stetson hung from the bedpost by her head, moving slightly every time she breathed out. This family really needed some snoring remedies.
He tried to focus on his work, but his gaze kept getting pulled back to the mare. She looked peaceful and happy, even while she slept. Her blonde hair moved in unison with her breath and hat, making her appear to be in total harmony. Everything about her, in fact, seemed to be adjusted just right. Even her blankets, in a severe state of disarray, almost looked like they were all adjusted to be a certain kind of messy. A cloud passed over the moon and made the room pitch dark, snapping him out of his trance. Idiot! She's just some mare! Leave her alone and just get out! She groaned in her sleep, as if his thoughts were just loud enough that she heard them.
He waited patiently for the moon to come back out, letting him see the dresser in front of him again. He rummaged and found little. Another small, jeweled necklace, a shiny thing. This whole house was either dirt poor or enjoyed living simply. He knew he didn't have many rooms left to search, having seen the narrow top floor from the outside. He moved up the stairs, still moving silently despite the creaky old steps. He seemed to know exactly where to step on the wood to avoid making any noise. He made it to the top without a hitch, but upon making it to the top, everything fell apart.
The moment he stepped onto the landing, a net fell down onto him from the ceiling and landed on his head. Is wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the rigging that held the net up falling down with it. The several heavy pieces of wood landed painfully on top of him, hitting his head and back. He fell heavily to the ground, slipping out of consciousness fast. The last thing he heard was the sound of several fillies running out of their room, cheering.
"Cutie Mark Crusader Monster Catchers! Yay !"
...
The wood landing on him was a blessing compared to what awaited him. He found himself back in the dream world, though this time there was no ground beneath his hooves. He moved his legs furiously, but as far as he could tell he wasn't moving very much, if at all. The timberwolves were still there, but if he had any luck at all they were suspended as well and would not be able to reach him. The Voice floated down to him, caressing him in its creepy, soothing tones.
"Tch, tch, tch," it tutted. "I'm surprised at you. A trap laid by three ignorant fillies tripped you up? How fitting."
He snarled as he craned his neck, looking for any kind of sign of someone. If he had to keep coming here, maybe he ought to just find a timberwolf and get it to finish him. He threw his weight into a turn, hoping to at least feel himself move in the air. When he felt nothing, he swore under his breath. The Voice heard and gently chided him. "Oh, now, now, you don't want to leave already? You only just got here."
"Of course I want to leave! Ever since I first ended up here I've had nothing but bad luck!"
"Oh, have you? I don't recall having arrived in your dreams before your... Troubles, shall we call them?"
He froze where he floated. How did he know? He or it? Either way, what was it? This seriously needed to end. There was something other-worldly about this place. It would almost be soothing without the bucked up deity looking over his shoulder and talking to him while timberwolves snarled all too near to him. "I don't know what you mean," he finally lied.
"Mmm, my, a talented liar you are. Though you did pause a little too long before responding. It raises suspicion. Not that you would have passed one by me anyways."
He frowned. "Maybe I wasn't lying."
"Oh really? Then I suppose I wouldn't find notches carved in the walls of the Canterlot dungeon? Third cell on the right as one goes in?"
"What do you know about my bucking life?!" he screamed. This was all too much.
"Oh, I really know quite a lot about your life. And there is quite a lot to tell, isn't there?" There was a faint sound of parchment rustling. "Do you have some preference as to what you want me to call you?"
He smirked smugly. "What, you don't already know my name?"
"Oh, I do. Don't worry about that. But I just wondered if we might make this a bit more personal."
He rolled his eyes. "You’re in my goddesses-damned dreams. I think that's already personal enough."
"Hmm... That's fair... Well, then, I'll hold off on calling you by name, since that would make you more comfortable. You let me know when you want me to begin observing pleasantries."
He moved his hooves rapidly, feeling a little helpless again. "What would make me more comfortable would be to feel some solid ground beneath my hooves and to be free of these nightmares!"
"Oh, I can't do either of those," it echoed sadly. "I do not control the conditions under which you arrive here, though I did believe this was a nice place. Away from the worries of the world, in the nice quiet darkness..."
"This place is a shit-hole," he spat. "If given the choice I would never come back here again!"
"Oh, now you've hurt my feelings..." It was almost believable from the way it was said. The morbid echoes may have strengthened the sorrow in its voice, though. "As a warning, it isn't good to hurt my feelings too many times. But now I want you to leave. I was going to tell you something, but now it can wait. It was good, too. You would have liked it."
Admittedly, his interest was piqued. But any real information he could get from... whatever this was, he wanted it. Almost anything could help at this point. "Wait! I'm sorry!! Please tell me!"
"Oh, no. You’re only apologizing now because you want something, and that isn't a real apology at all. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you. If you apologize and really mean it."
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I meant everything I said. I just want to know how to escape this place."
"Huh... An honest liar. Next you'll tell me that you give your possessions away after looting them. That is what you call it, isn't it?"
He gave a short, dry chuckle. "Perhaps a novice does. Then you grow up."
"What is it called, then?"
He thought for a moment, deciding how to answer. He finally decided to give an honest answer. "It's simply... Acquiring. Perhaps ‘coming into possession of new belongings’, if you’re being extra wordy, but acquiring is a good word."
"Oh, lovely. I like that. 'Acquiring'. What a nice word. Thank you. I suppose you do have some knowledge I don't. Though I have plenty you don't. Thinking of which, I think you'd best be going now. You have some explaining to do."
Before he could protest, a timberwolf snarled fiercely at him, and this time it was practically in his ear. The feeling of ice water being splashed against his face came to him, and he woke up, soaking wet in front of a grumpy looking farm-mare.
"I recon y'all better start with your name."
AppleJack was pissed, though she'd use another word for it. She had pulled this fellow out of the river, given him a bed, left food for him, and he had tried to rob them. Being the honest, hardworking pony she was, she couldn't understand for the life of her why any pony would take advantage of her like that. It just wasn't right. She had left him under the rubble of the CMC's 'monster trap' so that he couldn't run away.
He smiled sheepishly up at her, but there was something else in his face. Something that wasn't usually there when somepony got caught doing something wrong. She couldn't quite put he hoof on it, but she didn't much care for it. "Yeah, I guess I'd better. I suppose you can call me Trip."
She glared at him, squinting a little bit. "If yer trying to be funny, I ain't laughing."
He shook his head. "No, really, that’s what I'm called. Honest."
She kept glaring. "I know honest. You aren't it."
He nodded comically, looking up at the ceiling and shrugging a bit. "Can't argue much with that. But I'm being straight with you. My name is Trip."
She let up on her glare. It didn't really matter much if he was lying or not at this point. She had something to call him. "Well, then, do you mind explaining what you’re doing with me and Granny's jewelry and why you were headin' upstairs?"
"I was robbing you."
AppleJacks jaw dropped. She hadn't expected him to tell her straightforward that he was a thief. He certainly was trying to earn some degree of trust. "Well... Why? We were so kind to ya! Ah even pulled you out of the river and saved yer life!"
He nodded seriously. "And I'm very grateful for that. That doesn't change that I need to move along and I needed money. I'm sorry for having had to rob from you specifically, but as I don't know where we are I had to do my work here."
She sighed. "I hope you realize that I can't let you leave. In fact, I ought to call some local authorities."
"You mean there's a town right nearby?"
"Closer than you think. I can send my siblings to get help and they'd be back in fifteen, twenty minutes."
"Then why haven't you?"
She paused and thought. Why hadn't she? Really, she should have now. She could tell him she had, but she wasn't going to lie to him. Plus, if one of them came in she wouldn't be able to explain that. "I don't know," she admitted. "I suppose I prefer to take care of things on my own. Big Mac is up and at the door, so all it would take is a word. But I don't want to do that. So you'd best begin talking."
He tilted his head and thought a second. He could spill everything, but then she would almost certainly turn him in. He could lie, but that would take a lot of off the cuff and remembering details, and he didn't want to take so great a risk of making a mistake. On the other hoof, he could tell some lies, some truths, and leave some spots open for her interpretation. That was probably the best route, though not necessarily the easiest.
"All right. I'll tell you some about me. Obviously, I'm a thief. I didn't do this my whole life. I was a successful locksmith before taking up... The art, really, of acquisition. Hence my cutie mark." He moved his flank as best he could, showing off the ring of keys. "As a colt I just liked picking locks. I knew what made them click, as it were. Didn't have much formal schooling, my folks being broke, but I learned as best I could. Worked as an apprentice for a locksmith, all that good stuff. Shop went bad, and so I turned my talents to other uses. My last mark caught me off guard, and I ended up escaping into the river. There really isn't a lot to my life."
She eyed him carefully. If he was lying, he was very talented. He certainly looked too well groomed to be a poor thief. Maybe the dip in the river had cleaned him up a bit though. There wasn't any way of knowing for sure. Even Twilight didn't have any truth-telling spells. If she did, it would have made most of their adventures so much easier. "Allll riiight..." she said, drawing both words out. "I still don't quite trust you, since you tried to rob us after we put you up after saving your life, but I won't call the authorities. But-!" she added quickly before he could rejoice. "One slip up and you'll find yourself in the town jail faster than a zap apple in a jam." Despite it being such a long process , she thought silently.
He nodded, not understanding the analogy but willing to play along. "One thing," he said, beginning to struggle a bit under the wood. "You talk like I'm going to stay here. I can't do that. I'll leave without robbing you, but I'm leaving."
She put a rough hoof on his head. "Oh, I don't think so. See, if you don't want me to get someone here now, you'll be working here for a little while. We need some help in the harvest time, and that starts in a week. Until then, you'll help where we need it. I think we'll have you around for two, three weeks."
He sighed and groaned, shaking his head as best he could. "No you really don't want me around for more than another six hours. And I can be gone in a minute and a half. Trust me. You want that."
She took her hoof off his head. "I know that's what I want, but what you need is to work off a lesson."
He rested his eyes on his hooves, not sure whether to groan. He wasn't upset about being kept to work for a couple weeks. Not so long as it kept her from calling someone. It was her stubbornness. She was going to regret having him around pretty quick. "If I stay here, it will mean destruction for you and your family," he moaned, making one last attempt to save her.
She squinted at him. Like she had said, she knew truth and honesty pretty well, and he was putting a pretty convincing display on if he was still lying. "Destruction from what?"
He chuckled. He had known she was going to ask, and he had thought it through. "A great, dark power. It has haunted me for about a week now. I blame it for my botching the job and having to jump into the river. I don't know how to get rid of it. Everything in my life has been ruined. What's worse is that it is a non-corporeal influence. I cannot touch it, and I have never been touched by it."
AppleJack restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "So, what? Your insane? Haunted?"
"Haunted is closer," he admitted. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear timberwolves. I've felt their claws, but I've never woken up with any scars. Aside from them, there is only one voice in the darkness. He will not give me a name, just taunts me from the darkness. He keeps talking about some 'game' we are playing. I don't know who he is or recognize the voice." He looked sadly up at her. "You must think me crazy."
AJ almost blurt out "Uh, huh," but she caught herself at the last second. Instead she said, "Naw. I just think you’re someone who has bad dreams and a lot of bad luck. With any luck some hard, honest work should clear you right up. Now come on, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."
He smiled from the floor. "So I can stand up and you won't push my head back into the splintered wood?"
She couldn't help but chuckle. "Y'all can jump from being haunted tah makin' bad jokes just like that?"
He stood, shaking the dust out of his coat. "You can go from haunted dreams to working off a debt just like that?"
She smiled again. She had to admit, he was sort of... Charming. In a thieving, apologetic way. "Good point. Really, though. You should probably get some real sleep. Not the 'knocked unconscious by falling trap parts' kind. We'll have dinner before you go to bed, since Ah recon you haven't eaten a real meal recently. You've been out for the better part of the day in addition to the night."
He rubbed a sore spot on his head, grimacing as he remembered. "Yeah, what was that anyways?"
AppleJack just shrugged the question off, stating simply, "Mah sister and her friends enjoy trying to do new things."
He followed her up to his new quarters, a little confused, supposing that he could be worse off than having a bed and food for a while, even if he did have to work honestly.
...
"Impressive manner of speaking you have, my friend!"
Trip shook his head groggily. He felt as though he had just fallen asleep and was then rudely awakened. Oh. Wait. He had been. "Yeah, yeah, would you leave me alone? I'd really appreciate a good night's sleep for once. Last night doesn't count since I was knocked out."
"Oh, I understand. I just wanted to congratulate you on your talking your way out of another hanging."
He sighed and held his head. Last night he had been ok, but tonight it really felt like these dreams were taking their toll. "I haven't talked my way out yet. She could still call someone. And once they realized exactly who I was, I would be done for."
"Mmm. Yes... This is good. This is really good. I haven't seen a game played this well in a long time."
Trip scoffed into the darkness. "It isn't a game! It's my life and I could die!"
"Isn't life a kind of game?"
Before he could explain that it wasn't, Trip felt himself begin to swirl in the darkness, feeling it get caught up in his fur and tangled in his mane. The suddenly thick and viscous blackness threatened to suffocate him, pulling him deeper and deeper into someplace he wasn't sure he wanted to go. He tried to cry out, but felt the hateful air seep into his mouth and nose, clogging his airway and keeping him from speaking. The only thing he heard before waking back up was that voice.
“I wiii-iiin…”
“Mr. Trip! Guess what number I’m thinking of!”
“It’s just Trip. Can this wait? This plow is heavy.”
“It’ll just take a moment!”
*sigh * Trip was… annoyed. When he thought farm work, he figured it would be easier than a high society heist. But then he hadn’t thought of a yoke six sizes too big through a field that hadn’t been worked in years. Especially not while fillies ran around him and pestered him with questions that meant nothing. His idea of a farm life had been picking apples and eating good food in the shade. He was woefully misinformed.
The sweet, high-pitched voice called to him through his cloudy mood. “Mr. Trip! Did you pick a number?”
He groaned. She wasn’t going to leave if he didn’t guess. “Seven hundred and sixty two trillion.” She stared up at him like he had just told her he was the goddess herself. He shook his head and changed his answer. “Three.”
She beamed. “That’s right!”
“Great, can I go back to work now?”
“Um… there was something AppleJack wanted me to tell ya too… Uhh…” She tapped a grubby yellow hoof against her chin. After a moment of quiet deliberation, she shrugged. “I don’t remember. But that probably means it’s not too important!”
Trip rolled his eyes and nodded. “Right. Enjoy your number. Run along and let me work please.”
He watched for only a second as she happily bounced away, frowning. His aching back didn’t let him stay still long, crying out for him to finish this job as quickly as possible. He turned and began to pull again, having to exert a bit of extra force after stopping to get moving again. The old plow groaned behind him as it started again, tearing into the ground. He didn’t think much when he was hooked up. He tried to save his energy for the physical work. Today, though, for the first time in the week he had been here, he thought while he worked. Each rock broken by the plow jarred a new thought. Why was he sticking around so long? He didn’t have to stay here. He could have easily slipped out of the house every night, even with Mac and AJ taking turns trying to guard him. Officially trained guards hadn’t been able to do that, why would they think they could?
Of course, they still didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know any more than he had told them the night they had caught him. Anytime they asked, he fed them the same nonsense about being haunted since a little before his botched job. They didn’t believe him, but at least he had memorized the lie thoroughly by now. They trusted him a little around the fillies. He hadn’t done anything to frighten them at all. In fact, they seemed to enjoy asking him about himself. They liked hearing most about the places he had been. AppleJack listened closely to their talks, probably trying to find incongruences in his stories. Anytime she found one, she would let him finish and then pull him off to the side, asking for an explanation. He always passed it off as it being a story, nothing more. The fillies always seemed to enjoy them, even when he missed a detail. Though he wouldn’t admit it, it was kind of neat for him to see someone look up to him, even if they didn’t know what the full story was. He was good with kids, but he hadn’t realized he liked them so much when they weren’t in the way of his work…
No, no. That was just from being in contact with them for so long. They were always underfoot, getting in the way, causing problems… “Eek!” Speak of the devil.
He turned and found the little white filly standing near where the plow was about to run. “What?!” he snapped. “I can’t get any work done with somepony bothering me every ten minutes!”
She shriveled up into the size of one of the rocks he had just split with the plowblade. “I’m sorry…” she whimpered.
He sighed and turned a little further, about as far at the harness would let him. “I’m sorry. I’d just like to get this work finished. What do you need?”
She stood up a little bit straighter and smiled a teeny bit. “Apple Bloom Remembered what she was supposed to tell you earlier! Well, really AppleJack remembered after Apple Bloom came back and didn’t remember what she had been supposed to say, and I remember things a little longer than she does. That’s why AppleJack sent me this time, and because you haven’t tried to hurt us. Oh!” She squeaked. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that…”
“It’s ok, I won’t tell. What did you need to tell me?”
“Umm… Oh! Lunch was ready a half hour ago!”
Sighing, he began to shrug the heavy yoke off of his neck. It hit the ground all at once, landing with a massive thud . He groaned and straightened his back, feeling the vertebrae crack and pop in protest. He shuddered at the feeling. Never did like that feeling, of bones popping and shifting. He looked down at the little white filly. She was looking at the dirt on her hooves like it was formal. From what he had heard of her sister from the young ones, dirt may very well be foreign to her.
He inwardly groaned and crouched a little, saying “Hop on.”
She gasped and giggled, hopping back and forth on the ground before jumping up to his back. She was light, and her rapidly shifting hooves felt nice on his back. He waited a minute for her to settle down a bit, then started the trek back to the old house. It wasn’t a long trek back, but it still took a few minutes. The little girl on his back shifted to a more comfortable position every now and then, and when she did he slowed down to help make sure that she didn’t fall off. Drawing near, he could see a form standing in front of the barn. The closer he got, the more impatient it looked. AppleJack, though she had been a little nicer to him recently, she still didn’t trust him a lot.
“Ya’ll took your time!” She called out to them as soon as they were near and trotted out to them, like she couldn’t stand to wait any longer. “Sweetie Bell, come down off of him!”
“She’s fine, I offered to carry her.” Trip spoke softly as Sweeite jumped off his back.
“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Trip!” she squeaked.
“It’s just Trip.”
Apple Bloom and the other one, the orange pegasus, both came running out through the door. “Aww, we didn’t get a ride!” they both chimed in unison.
He couldn’t help but smile a little. “Maybe later.”
AJ looked at him suspiciously. “But maybe not. Go back inside girls, finish your lunch.” They all trotted back inside, protesting under their breath. Once they were out of earshot, she drew a little closer to him. “Ah’ve been kind, but I just want to warn you again. If you hurt those three fillies, you’ll be sorrier than a mug of Flim-Flam Apple Cider.”
“I’ve had that stuff. Not bad, really.” Her face got red at that, so he made note to not compliment anything made by the two brothers. “Sorry. Didn’t think it meant anything to you. You gone up against them?”
“I’ve met them, but I don’t mind their mention.”
“Mmm, see now, that’s a lie. It bothers me to hear you lie. You aren’t good at it.”
“I’m an honest pony.”
“Exactly, so stop lying. Honest ponies shouldn’t lie. And in a way, dishonest ponies should maintain their lies.”
“Like the lies you’ve fed us?”
He knd of expected her to have something prepared. She usually didn’t press him this much about his habits, past, or truthfulness. Making sure not to appear like he knew what she was talking about, he shrugged. “What lies? I told you the truth. I botched a job, used the river to escape, and now I’m here.”
The faintest smile played across her lips. Gotcha! “I did some readin’ at the library in Ponyville. That river don’t connect direct to anyplace in Canterlot. You would’ve had to jump in from a reservoir either in the Everfree Forest or… well, you’d have had to been in the Everfree Forest.”
Damn . He hadn’t thought of that. “The searches for me had chased me through the countryside, all the way through to the forest.”
“Which makes me ask what you had to try to steal to have been chased so far.”
“I can’t answer that.”
“You will if you don’t want me to turn you in.”
He sighed, trying not to growl. He did ok. “What if I just tell you where?” She thought for a second, then nodded. “I was trying to get into a high class party and acquire a string of jewels. It wasn’t really serious, but the owner of the jewels was rich enough and influential enough that she got the police to follow me.”
She frowned deeply. “Who was your target?”
“I don’t remember the name very well. Fleur De Lis, I think. Some high society wife.”
AppleJack sighed. He still wouldn’t give her a straight answer. She got the feeling that he was telling half-truths more than anything, but didn’t have anything to back it up with. She turned back to the door slowly, but stopped. Looking back over her shoulder, her hat shading her eyes in a way that made her seem a little bit dangerous. “Don’t hurt my family.”
He nodded. “Never planned to.”
AppleJack trotted down the dusty path to her farm, humming tunelessly to herself. Today was a good day. The sun was warm and bright, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the apples were almost ready for harvesting. It would only be another week now, and they would be just perfect for bucking: plump and brightly colored, full of sweet juice. Then she would be able to make all kinds of apple treats. Apple tarts, apple pie, apple crisp, sugared apples, and, once they had ripened a bit off the trees, apple cider. It made her mouth water jut thinking about it.
This year was looking to be a good year. The pegasus had really been on top of the weather and the trees had been grateful. They had grown lots more apples than usual this year, almost twice as many as last year. Last year had been a poor harvest, and though they hadn't lost a lot financially they were beginning to hurt for apples now. They needed a bumper crop this year, otherwise they would start to lose money. Even now they were just beginning to dip into their stores. But they just had to hold out for another week. Just one more week.
AppleJack realized that she had stopped humming. She shrugged a bit, starting back up again. Those dark thoughts must have gotten to her more than she realized. But there was really nothing to worry about. They had plenty. She slowly veered off the path, approaching one of her trees. She looked up into the tree, inspecting the apples carefully. After a moment she positioned herself carefully underneath an apple and gave the tree a gentle kick with her foreleg. The apple she was watching shivered and fell down into her waiting mouth. Taking it in her hoof so it didn't fall, she took a bite. Mmm , she thought. Perfect. We could even begin harvesting now if we wanted . Maybe she would have to talk to Big Mac about that and see what he thought.
She began to trot happily again, the apple clenched firmly between her teeth. She was still a ways from the barn, and she still had to cross the little river. That was ok. It was beautiful out today. There was no reason she couldn't stop at the bridge and watch the river for a bit too. Maybe watch the fish jump in the water. That was always fun. She hadn't done that in a while.
As she walked, she noticed the day again. It was rather warm out, maybe a little too warm. A single little cloud over the sun may have been nice, but there was no point in complaining. A warm sunny day was better than a cold gloomy one. A bird flew overhead, its beak turned to the sun as it flew up towards the sky. It jumped around in the air as it flew, bouncing merrily along the thermals in the air.
She must have been closer to home than she thought, because she was at the bridge within three minutes. From here it was only another six or seven minute walk to the barn. She leaned easily on the rail, looking at the fish. Taking another bite of the apple, she felt the juice run down her chin, matting her hair. This was an excellent apple. When she was done, she tossed the apple core into the river, smiling as she thought of some lucky fish getting some of the apple. She picked a piece of the apple's flesh out of her teeth with her tongue, enjoying every last little bit of the apple. She thoughtfully toyed with the nibble in her teeth as she watched the water flow and roll, but as she did something interesting caught her eye.
There was a dark figure floating in the water, just below the surface. At first she thought it may simply have been a bag that somepony had dropped into the river on accident, but as it bobbed along there appeared a hoof and what faintly looked like it could be a Cutie Mark. Springing to action, she hung her hat on the rail post and dove into the water, unceremoniously splashing water clear back up to the edge of the bridge. Kicking hard to catch up with the floating mass, she saw better and better that it was a pony.
Clamping her teeth on the back of the poor creatures neck, she began dragging it back to shore. She couldn't see the mystery pony's face through the rushing water, so she couldn't distinguish it as either a mare or a stallion, but judging by its weight she would guess stallion. Ahead she heard where the water ran a little fast, running over some sharper rocks in a miniature set of rapids. If she were on any kind of raft or little boat she would have been ok. In fact she had used to make rafts and navigate this river with relative ease as a filly. Of course she never made it far before Big Mac or Granny scooped her up somehow and took her home, but still. She never got hurt. But the rocks were sharp and would likely tear them to shreds, and with the dead weight of the pony in her teeth it would almost be a certainty.
She kicked with all her powerful legs had to offer, which was considerable, but the river was stronger. It pushed her downstream quickly, too quickly for her to get to shore before reaching the rocks. Thinking fast and acting faster, she stopped kicking so hard for a second and let herself and the stallion flow along with the water. Craning her head to see where she was going while still keeping hold of the stallion's neck, she used little kicks to move herself in little ways so that she would be sure to run into one of the larger, safer rocks. As soon as she felt her hoof touch solid rock, she pushed off powerfully from the rock, aiming for the close shore.
Her legs and luck didn't fail her, and she was able to make it close enough that she could feel the rough gravel of the shore beneath her hooves again. Gritting her teeth, she dug in until she had the footing to pull them onshore. Panting, she fell down next to the stallion, exhausted. She looked at him clearly for the first time, lying mostly drowned on the rocky ground.
He was a good looking pony, despite being fairly dirty and mangy. He was an earth pony, with a dark purple coat. Were he to walk in the shadows, he would blend in perfectly. His mane was another blend of dark, shadowy purple, matching his coat well. His Cutie Mark caught her eye as well. It depicted a ring with a couple of old keys on it. AppleJack made a mental note to ask him what his special skill was later. He was kind of scrawny, but looked like what flesh there was on him was mostly lean muscle. He was probably quite strong, despite his size. A small, loose fitting cape and a vest were draped around his body, the cape in shreds at the bottom and the vest covered with empty looking pockets.
She noticed all of this in a couple seconds, then remembered that she had just pulled him out of the river. Balancing him on his back, she put her hooves on his chest and began pushing down gently but forcefully. When nothing happened, she became desperate. She quickly put her mouth on his and blew air forcefully into his lungs a couple times. Finally, all the water came gushing out of his lungs and he began to cough. Unfortunately, he coughed while she was still trying to breathe into his lungs, and much of the water filled her own mouth. Quickly turning, she spat out a whole lungful of water onto the ground, silently swearing to herself.
Now that he was breathing, she carefully maneuvered underneath him and picked him up, balancing him on top of her. Slowly, she began to trot back to the barn, hoping that someone would be there to help her with her new, mysterious charge.
...
All around, there was darkness. There was pain. There was nothing but that. He was used to tight spots, but this was different. He didn't know how he had gotten there. Usually if he was in trouble, it was his own damn fault and he had some sort of idea how to carry himself through. But this... This was different. He felt the slash of a set of claws across his flank. He cried out, and he heard the noise echo for what seemed like forever. What was this place? How did he get here? Where was the light?
As he thought this, a small light appeared in the distance. He ran toward it, hoping for some sort of salvation from this living hell. But as he ran, the light didn't grow at all. If anything, it grew more faint. Finally, it disappeared again, replaced by a haunting, taunting voice. "Oh. You didn't make it. That's too bad. But, fear not. There is hope in your future. If you do not grasp hold of if, you will meet with a terrible fate."
He snarled, looking around frantically. "Who are you? Show yourself! Or are you a coward?!"
A manic chuckle echoed all around him, filling him with fear. "Oh, the young. This truly is a most interesting generation. Please, amuse me further. Amuse me and live."
He tried to shout at the unseen antagonist again, but no noise came from his throat. Instead, a fierce growl came from behind him and he felt the claws rake through his flesh again. He screamed, successfully this time.
...
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" Even as he screamed in the dream, he woke screaming. He nearly head butted the mare leaning over him, a look of worry and fear plastered on her face.
"Whoa now, sugarcube," she said soothingly. "Your all right now. You don't have to be afraid here."
He was lying comfortable in what he guessed was a roomy barn. Backing up to the wall as best he could, he glared at the mare in suspicion. "Who are you? What have you done to me? Why am I here? Where am I?!"
Seeing he needed some space, she took a small, careful step back. "It's all right. Mah names AppleJack. Yer here in mah barn. I found you floating in the river and I pulled you out. You would have drowned."
AppleJack? Who is she, just some country bumpkin? He allowed himself to relax a little bit, pressing himself against the wall a little less forcefully. "How can I trust you?" he asked. Even if she was a country girl, she may know about the reward...
She shrugged, like she didn't mind if he did and didn't mind if he didn't. "You can trust me because I tell the truth. Plain an' simple. You can trust me, but Ah guess you get to choose if you will . I did save your life though, and you could probably use a friend. You obviously aren’t from here."
As he listened, he felt his head begin to spin and colors floated in his eyes. Maybe that swim took more out of him than he thought. "Yeah, well..." Oh, man, those colors aren't found in nature... "Well, you'll have to prove it to me... I don't trust anyone..."
The last thing he heard before falling unconscious again was AppleJack saying, "Ah'll remember that. Just rest a bit now."
...
He was back again, floating. This was only the second time he had had this dream, but he cognized it right away. The snarl and bark of a timberwolf echoed all around him, making him flinch. He growled into the darkness, searching for another light. "Come on out!" he bellowed into the darkness. "I know your there! You don't frighten me!"
The devilish chuckle echoed from the darkness again. "Oh, but I do. I scare you quite a lot. You don't know who or what I am, and yet I know you. That frightens you so much it... Well, it scares you. What a wonderful cycle." He grit his teeth. The voice was right. He was afraid, and being afraid simply made him even more afraid. What end was there to it?
Cautiously stepping forward, he made himself speak much more calmly. "Then how about telling me what I want to know, like what's going on?"
"Ooh. Someone got brave. But I'm afraid that I cannot help you. You see, that may bring our game to its end faster than I would like, and that would cut our fun short."
He thought carefully for a moment. "And yet if you were to tell me it would make the time we have more interesting more quickly."
Again, a laugh. "Oh, we have a quick one this time! But no dice, my friend. You will have to do with what you know and have now. Remember what I said before, and I believe you will do splendidly."
As the echoes of the voice faded away, the timberwolves began to bark and snarl with a greater ferocity, until everything disappeared and his sleep became dreamless and peaceful again.