Caramel Treat's Friend
by
Glen Ten-Eyck
© 2013 by Glen Ten-Eyck (De Writer)
1587 words
Writing begun 04/17/13
In the kitchen of her candy shop, Caramel Treat was humming to herself as she carefully added a few drops of a liquid that almost seemed to smoke to a small batch of her famous candy bubbling in a small pot. She stirred it with care and added dried clover blooms, popped wheat and barley to the candy. She poured the finished mass into a small rectangular mold to set.
While the candy was cooling, Caramel Treat put the tightly stoppered potion bottle onto the topmost shelf of a stout locked cabinet holding a surprising number of other bottles similar to it. Then she took the pan, stirring spoon and a few other implements and carefully heated them all to nearly red heat over with flame from the stove's burner. That done, she put them into the sink to soak.
The candy was cool. She removed it from the greased mold and wrapped it in edible paper. The mold was treated just as the pan and spoon were.
Caramel Treat nickered happily to herself as she packed the result of her morning's handiwork. She put her head out the kitchen door and told her assistant, Peanut Brittle, “I am going out for the day, Peanut. You may have to open in the morning too.”
Peanut Brittle's palomino forelock lifted in surprise. “All day? Maybe all night?” With a knowing leer, she asked, “Really hot date? Hummm . . . I might use it for blackmail later, Boss!”
With a grin, Caramel Treat retorted, “You could try! You would fail! I actually do hope that it will be a hot date but it probably won't be. I need to visit old friends in the Everfree and there is no way that I will try to come back through that place after dark.”
Her eyes wide, Peanut Brittle asked, “Who lives in the Everfree, besides Zecora, I mean?”
With a sly grin, Caramel Treat retorted, “Wolves, among others. Not telling, got it?”
Peanut Brittle replied, “Got it. Be ready to manage tomorrow's opening, just in case. See you later, Caramel.”
Caramel Treat marveled once again at how, even on a warm day, the Everfree Forest could manage to feel so cool. In only a little time she veered away from the path to Zecora's house. Her hooves made almost no sound on the moss of the forest floor. Soon she came to the ridge of tall rock and broken stone that she was looking for. Staying in the shade, she stopped short of the open sunlight on the broken granite of the ridge.
The sun was shining brightly on the forest canopy above. Shadows ruled the forest floor below, with only tiny intrusions of the light above. Caramel Treat called out in a quiet but carrying voice, “Show yourself, Fangrin. I know that you are here.”
Slinking around a large boulder, a gray wolf with black tips to his ears, his ruff and down his back to and including his tail, crept toward her. His jaws were slightly open and his fangs showed clearly.
One small shaft of sunlight piercing the gloom of the forest trees lit the hoof of Caramel Treat as she held out the nicely shaped mixed oat, wheat, and dried clover bloom caramel candy that she had just made that morning.
The wolf before her crouched low, his forelegs extended toward the little Earth pony, his hind legs compressed to spring. Caramel did not even flinch. She smiled serenely and said, “It is OK, Fangrin, I know your secret. I have not told anypony or any wolf. I promise that you are safe. With your wolf senses, you can tell that I am not lying.”
The shaggy head bobbed a few millimeters in agreement. Fangrin's tail gave a small wag and went back to still. A voice that was hoarse and deep emerged from him. “I know that you are telling the truth. Truth does not answer why you are offering me THAT?”
Caramel Treat responded, “I told you that I know what your secret is, Fangrin. Think for a moment. How do I know that you HAVE a secret? How do I even know your name? The Pack does not let such things out lightly. Even the names of the Banished, like you are, are still kept secret. Yet I know your name.”
The wolf cringed down as if about to be struck a blow from an invisible foe. He covered his eyes with his forepaws and asked with outright fear, “How could you know that I was Banished? How can you possibly know what my secret is? Not even the Pack knew for certain. They cast me out because the wrongness that they could sense was incurable.
“Not the Pack Healer nor the Zebra Witch Zecora can heal me of the wrongness. Not even I Know why I have the wrongness in me.”
Confidently, Caramel Treat replied, “I can not heal you either. I do know what the wrongness is. You have been afflicted with a potion of Poison Joke.”
Now Fangrin sat up and snapped, “That cannot be! The Zebra Witch Zecora or the Pack Healer would have discovered that and cured it!”
Caramel Treat nickered her agreement, “If it was you who were exposed to the Poison Joke, you are right. They would have found it and cured it.
“It was your mother who was given a potion of Poison Joke by a jealous rival for your father's affection. Your mother WAS healed as soon as it was known.”
Sadly, she continued, “It was not quite soon enough. Some of that poisonous potion reached her unborn pups. With the capriciousness of Poison Joke, it all went to a single pup. You.
“You cannot be healed because you were born with it and without it you will die.”
Fangrin curled a lip, baring fangs and demanded, “If I cannot be healed, then why do you taunt me? What will that silly pony candy do for me?”
Caramel Treat said bluntly, “Which of us is larger? Pony or wolf? The magic of Poison Joke potion can do many things but it cannot turn you into a giant or shrink you to an ant.
“It does make you change forms. Your pony form is like a foal in size. It weighs no more than you do now.”
Openly hostile, Fangrin snarled, “My wolf form has fangs to rend you!”
Caramel Treat retorted primly, “And my pony form has hooves that can kick you into the middle of the next moon if you try anything so foolish. Without a Pack to back you, those fangs of yours are only good if I flee. If I fight, you will lose!
“Change to your small pony form and take the treat. I have put a potion in it but it will not harm you.
“Think. You were born a wolf. The Pack has cast you out. There is no reason to stay a wolf. Become a pony. Grow big. Grow strong. Then, when you change, What will you be?”
Fangrin's jaw dropped. “A monster wolf. Bigger than any other wolf in the Everfree!”
His jubilation stopped suddenly. Suspiciously he asked, “How do you know so much that no other knows?”
Casually, Carmel Treat answered, “Jealousy and Poison Joke potions are neither new nor restricted to wolves.”
Her smile grew and changed, fangs springing forth from her jaws. Her fur darkened, becoming shaggy gray with black tips. Her limbs changed. Her eyes went feral. Her tail changed. The biggest wolf that Fangrin had ever seen stood before him, still offering the treat.
“The same thing happened to me too. The humorous part of it all is that, as a pony, I have all of the sharpness of senses that any wolf has.” Curling lips away from huge fangs, she added, “Sharper, really. As a wolf they are sharper yet.
“I was back in the brush listening and watching while you were cast out. There is more but if you want to learn it, you must change to a pony. Take that treat and come with me.
“As I told you, the treat does contain a potion of my brewing. Instead of shunning the potion that nearly destroyed me, I embraced it. I have found and made many more. Using them showed me the nature of your secret. This potion will free you from forced changes under the rule of Luna. It will give you the control that you now lack.”
Her tongue lolling with the jest of it, Caramel Treat demanded, “Change. Eat. Join me. Learn to own and control your changes instead of letting them rule you.”
Giving the huge wolf in front of him a wondering look, Fangrin said, “It happened to you too? I am not alone?”
The huge shaggy head nodded in agreement. “You are not alone. Come with me. Hide safely among the other ponies while you grow.”
Drawing a deep breath and concentrating fiercely, Fangrin struggled to force himself to change. It was a slow and obviously painful process that twisted the wolf into a small, foal sized pony.
The monster wolf that was Caramel Treat smiled as she watched the tiny pony gobble up the candy. Her huge tail sweeping aside leaves and moss as she wagged it, she said, “We will be the best of friends, Fangrin. If things go well, we will be married by pony custom.
“Our foals will be like no others!”
--The End--
