A Hornful Attack

0 0 0
                                    

"So what's Izzy like?" I inquired, observing the unusual body shape and colors of a couple birds flying nearby.

"She's a fun, bubbly character with the innate ability to find wonder and joy in pretty much everything under the sun," Sunny replied.

For a moment, I quickly tried to skim through my mind for any memories of when I had interacted with kids... which wasn't much. My face squirmed a little as the memory-searching intensified. Sunny noticed.

"Have you met kids before on your travels?"

"Yeah I have, but hardly. Most of the time I inquire and consult with people on the other end of the age scale, though sometimes younger family members would be present."

"Makes sense, given older folk would know more about the past," Sunny quickly concluded.

The path to the forest was bumpy and sloped, with subtle dips and rocky crests. My worn-out, blister-laced fingers dreaded at the thought of rock climbing again, but thankfully there wasn't anything that demanded a tough ascent.

And just as well, as the remaining sunlight was dying – fast, with just a dim glow bathing the trees in a deep red glow.

"Flashlight?" Sunny pointed to my backpack.

I tugged at a side pocket zipper and pulled out a small aluminum tube. Flicking it on, we scanned the horizon and spotted a line of trees up ahead by about a mile. Beyond that stood a short mountain range – a likely offshoot of the ones by Zephyr Heights.

"Pay attention to the ground," I advised Sunny, as we stepped through metre-tall grass. "Sometimes small animals are hidden, and also the ground level can change up without warning."

We took turns testing the ground and shaking the grass with a large stick to alert any critters resting or lurking in the foliage. One final downward slope later, and we arrived at the western border of the forest. Panning the flashlight across the upper branches of the tall leafy trees that lined the edge, I noticed a few interweaving vines and a couple broken branches, with a bunch of flower buds snipped off.

"Someone's been here," I whispered. "At least it'll give us some sense of direction."

Now scanning the tree trunks, I located a wide gap between four trees, directly below a couple thick braided vines hanging.

"What's got you so focused?" Sunny asked softly as we stepped into the blackness between the trees.

"Traps," I mouthed back, scanning all the paths from the vines above down to the ground. "Or somepony simply climbed up to get some flower buds. Can't really say."

Having failed to find any loops, springs, or weights, I moved on through the darkness, visually absorbing as much as I could – the lay of the ground, the patterns of the leaf litter and twigs, and any movement. After tracing the form of a previously trodden path, I soon spotted a glowing flicker of light off to the right – its bluish-yellow color identifying as a blend of moonlight and artificial light. A clear indication of a small town in a clearing in the heart of the forest.

"This place feels rather unfriendly without the sun," Sunny nervously confided.

"You scared of the dark?" I teased, snapping a low-hanging branch and tossing it aside as we stepped over a log. Almost immediately I heard muffled hoofsteps, and the subsequent hushed voices flowed clearly through the trees. The tree villas of Bridlewood – straight out of Middle Earth - were just a few meters away.

"I think you should give them a heads-up," I thought out loud, but Sunny didn't seem to hear.

"Hello?" I called out, stepping between two trees, taking care not to upset a delicately planted row of flowers. Not a peep could be heard.

Of Hooves and HistoryWhere stories live. Discover now