MDLineArt

@@cwhip9, The Queen of the Changelings stood among her brood, watching the pony with an ire in her eye that threatened to burn even the sun. Hatred. Hatred would keep her resolve in the coming months, years perhaps. Still, she looked over her kingdom, those wounded in this demonstration. War for profit, was there nothing more despicable? Even her changelings did so as an act of sustenance, as an act of rule. This was petty, lacking vision. She watched this doctor turn and walk away. Oh, she would remember it alright. She would remember him trying to make her humble, and her brood an instrument of his will. It would not do, it would not do at all... Regal Queen Chrysalis turned to walk into the hive, those large oozing chambers with the hint of sulfur on the wind. "Alright, Doctor Monroe, you want a war, Then that is what we will bring. On our term. Come my children, we have time to prepare..." She gave it quite a bit of time in silence, then started to laugh. "Vamponies..." "... Get Razorback here, I need a... specialist."

This hissing, the screaming, it was almost deafening. Her children, they were burning, melting, being eaten from the inside. For the briefest of moments, panic set in the eyes of the Changeling Queen. Her children had come under this plague, this sickness this 'Doctor' would spread among them. A low growl left her, that predatory parasite she was escaping her lips. First Celestia would humble her, now in this moment of licking her wounds this individual comes before her and unleashes a sickness upon her children! "ENOUGH!" Stamping her hoof upon the earth was enough to make it crack under the weight of her conviction. "You've made your point. But there needs to be proof such an antidote exists! My changelings are no good to you in this condition, and I..." Queen Chrysalis looked to her children, the changeling swarm that grew rotted and sickened by this infernal virus that was spread to them by this twisted healer. Her proclamation next would prove her own convictions, but she could not express to even herself on just how painful it was to make. "... I will refuse you if you do not. It is in no one's interest for this... 'demonstration' to continue, and if you want OUR help, then you will cease this now. If you continue, then you lose. You need a war, you need me and my brood, or you would not be here. You want a war, what war can happen without soldiers? Make your decision, every moment you delay, you hinder your own aims." Stepping forward, she felt it in her chest, and could watch her vision beginning to blur. The sickness was creating boils on her carapace, her wings began to wither, her horn began to rust.

@@cwhip9 "Well, what would I do? Oh please, what ever you do, do not hand your poison to Celestia! Please, let me grovel and beg you to reconsider!" Queen Chrysalis 'swooned', pretending in very sarcastic tones to be overwhelmed by the tactical 'brilliance' of this Doctor Monroe. She then burst into laughter, and almost as an amplifier, thousands of tiny high-pitched chuckles started to fill the air. After a moment, she stopped, and the laughter died. "If you think that Queen Celestia had it in her to bring about poisons and buying weapons of war, clearly you haven't been paying attention. Even if I were to believe you were capable of selling weapons to prospective buyers, you need Me a lot more than I need you. And while you may bring poison, we have far more direct methods. You're hardly a morsel, but if you're so sure that We can produce the war you need, maybe you should consider the want to end whatever threatens MY hive. Like yourself, good Doctor." She trotted a safe distance away from this poisonous individual, eyes narrowing. "You haven't given me incentive. You have NO control here. A rank amature. So tell me, what do I need you for if I go to these 'Vamponies', what stops me from just doing it myself. Why.... Do I.... NEED You?" There was more of the hive that arrived, and surrounded, outnumbered, the haze of wings, chitin and fang eclipsing them.

@@cwhip9, Queen Chrysalis was almost brought to a bestial hiss when she watched her young fall. It was sickening to see, and this uninvited 'guest' that approached made it all the worse. After a brief moment, she straightened herself to that regal stance worthy of one who calls herself 'Queen'. A sickened grin crossed her lips. "You came to me. You are the one with want, the desire, so stop the facade of acting like you came here with a deal. It's unbecoming. Claim all you want, but you are no friend to me or mine. You treat my children so horribly, trespass, and throw a mocking gesture in the words of an olive branch. Such disrespect." With hooves filled with conviction she stepped forward, approaching this hooded figure. "That being said, you're going to need to show more than a bunch of promises and a threat of force. Maybe you are powerful, I have little doubt of that. How far do you think I will go to put you in your place?" There was a cackling that left her, the glee of a sadist, a manipulator, a Queen. "Maybe you will get through a hundred, maybe a thousand. We are, however, without number." Blackened carapace hoof placed itself on one of her fallen children. The twisted horn atop her head began to glow a sickly green, and that same energy enveloped the fallen changelings, bringing them to their feed once more, seemingly to grow stronger. "I'd like to say the choice is yours, but it really isn't. The choice is mine if we even consider you anything more than a food source, OR maybe a Court Jester! Yes, you really are funny, it's amusing to me. Unfortunately, that amusement stopped the second you harmed one of mine." Closing ranks, in a loud chorus of a single step from endless hooves all the changelings around stepped forward. "And after all, my children are VERY protective of their brothers and sisters. 'Mommy, can I rip him to pieces? Mommy, can I eat him now? Mommy, why are you talking to the bad pony?'. So.... Why should I talk to you any more? Why should I listen to false promises from a person who clearly wants something but is going to harm my children then offer something without so much as introducing himself properly." "After all, I am Royalty."

Queen Chrysalis, observing the pools of green ichor and thousands of blue eyes in the dark and murky hive, she could only feel a bitterness as she began to ruminate over the message sent. The letter was burned in green flame after it was recieved, it's ashes still in a pile just at the side of what could be called a throne. Her children surrounded her, this swarm of changelings ready and waiting, hungry and ready. Perhaps the writer of the ashed paper never dealt with a hungry beast, far less thousands. She could hear them all, and even she had to lick her fanged incisors at the prospect of feeding. That was a truth of all changelings. One of her children spoke softly, in hushed whispers. While what was said could not be heard among this court of shape shifters, the response most certainly was ash she let out a yell that seemed to echo down the vast chambers. "THEY WHAT?!" Intruder. That was the word going through her mind, and now the minds of her brood... It wasn't long before she finally found herself at the entrance of her hive, looking at the landscape that seemed rotted, but was a flourish of bog life. Old rotted trees laying in stagnant waters, and a horizon that barely let the sun through the peaks of mountain tops. And before her was the intruder. "Most would have the good sense to not come here uninvited... You've come a long way to offer yourself up as a mid-day snack for my little changelings, I hope it was a pleasant journey, because it may very well the the last one you will have for quite some time." Many of her brood started to fly out, the buzzing seemed to hum to melody as the scattered all around, surrounding the cloaked figure. It was a morsel, but not one she could readily refuse.

@@Blitz Boom, Sorry I have not been around. It's been a rough couple weeks, had to put down my cat yesterday and I've been somewhat rough around the edges. Will try to get back into it all, but I think my comitment is starting to shatter around most of my hobbies. Sorry guys

@@Rapid Wind, Feel free to join. Bashful Thread is in a wonderfully hallarious awkward situation with a Griffon, and just recovered from relatively traumatizing events. @@Blitz Boom Sorry I haven't been posting lately. I kinda hit a point of burnout, but decided to keep going. I think it's mostly because of being unable to finish the work I wanted to to contribute to the forums, started feeling like I ducked a responsability that was never really there to begin with, so hopefully clear sailing from here.

@@Blitz Boom, Bashful felt the dizziness that came from what could be described as a mild concussion. Buried under the rubble that was once the shelf and well organized fabrics, he could only think of the scene he had just made, and how Orange Lace was going to give him a verbal thrashing for ruining her shop. Still, that was overshadowed with the shallow pride of getting that perfect thread from the top shelf. It took a while for him to get himself out with the help of a concerned Florence. That was perhaps the highlight of the moment. He couldn't help but blush, and tried after an awkward moment to break eye contact by focusing on the drafting table. Stepping over the mess, he tried to get to work, even as he felt the goose egg growing under his beret. The needles and pins that were in the cap were now leaving shards of threads hanging from his cap, and while he tried not to pay it any mind, knowing that he probably looked ridiculous made him smile a little. Maybe it would take her mind off things. He began tracing out patterns, and pinning them to the appropriate materials. Trying to keep the conversation going, he could only respond to the question with a very delayed response. "Yeah, I'm... I'll be ok. Just a bump on the ol' noggin, nothing to molt your feathers over." He gave a weak smile, beginning to take the sheers to the pattern and started the construction of the belt. "Ya know, my roomie Firecracker took a spill a while back. Came out of that hospital right as rain, and with the reliability. Guess we can thank Celestia for the reliability of Pegasi, huh?" "Anyway, you look pretty... er.... I mean, ya look like you had a pretty rough day, so let's try and make this something special, ok?" Where did that come from? he wondered. "I know you didn't ask for anything special, but maybe we don't need it to look all dazzling to do that, hmm? What I was thinking was a lot of hidden stitching around the seam. A warm orange to highlight a deep brown, something that would make it have definition without being too gaudy. I mean, it's not like we use gems in our designs... unlike some." That last sentence was said with a bit of bitterness. There was another tailor in Ponyville, who got all the praise, and all it did was make everyone underappreciated what Orange Lace had been doing for this community for years. Ever since she aligned herself with a princess, she became the talk of the town, the place to go, and it made business hard for some. Thankfully, Orange Lace was stubborn, and really never backed down from any challenge. He admired that kind of strength. Bashful Thread could only hope Florence had that same strength.

@@Blitz Boom, Just get well soon Blitz, and if you're dentist happens to be called Isac Yankem, RUN!! FOR THE LOVE OF CELESTIA RUN!!!!

@@Blitz Boom "Um... Yeah, I think I understand Florence. It looks.. Yeah, yeah I think I can do something like that." A gulp of worry went down Bashful Thread's throat and he started to look over the shelves for the material he needed to craft her request. He was still in complete disbelief that she came at all. That, and he couldn't believe Orange Lace would just leave him here with her. Yeah, he understood what she was trying to get at, giving him time to come to grips with someone he hurt and there she stood, a griffon who to the best of his knowledge wouldn't hurt a breezy. "So, what brings you to Ponyville? Visiting, or has Griffonstone decided to start moving into our little town?" The bad joke was made more for his own comfort than his own. If she could at least crack a smile then he'd know he was on the right track. Normally he'd start asking about friends and family, but knowing what he knew, that was only going to cause her more hurt. Giddon in the hospital... well, Pyhrus, as he was actually called, and her uncle, made things more difficult. She was probably trying to get away from that worry, there was no point in bringing it through the door by speaking about it. Unfortunately, the silence made it all the more uneasy for himself. Pulling out fabric and thread combinations that made the rainbow look limited in spectrum, it wasn't until he decided on a particularly muted piece of cloth to avoid something overly extravagant. However, when trying to find a thread to make the stitching 'pop', he felt tension... There at the top shelf, among the bolts rarely used and gathering dust, sat the thread he needed for this project. Taking hold of the ladder, Bashful started his climb. Now, here lies a problem many wouldn't really think of. When you have wings, there are some things you just take for granted. Your body is built to fly, glide, hover, drift, and soar. An Earth Pony's body on the other hand was built heavy, helping in feats of physical strength, making them great for working the land. What it doesn't make them is good fliers or great with heights even only a few meters off the ground. This realization came to Bashful very suddenly as he reached for the thread, his hooves suddenly kicking the ladder out from under him, leaving him gripping onto the shelf dangling from the top. At least he hadn't fallen, just made things a little awkward. It was then he heard the sound of nails being pulled from wood, and the shelf came loose from the wall, falling over and Bashful let out a yelp! The crash was loud, and dust filled the room. Once it settled, there lay Bashful Thread buried under fabric and spools of multi-coloured debris. A lone blue hoof poked it's way out from beneath the colourful chaos, holding up an spool of thread, as a dazed muffled voice came from beneath. "Got it!"

@@Blitz Boom Bashful Thread had made a point to stay in his room. He had a long talk with Orange Lace, who was less that pleased to hear about his antics. He got an ear-full over the course of hours upon hours, broken up only by the occasional customer coming in which Orange Lace was quick to respond to as soon as he heard the bell upstairs, which Bashful Thread was all too eager for those small breaks. Bashful looked into the mirror, seeing him in his changeling form, the dark carapace and glowing blue eyes, which would be terrifying in the dimly lit room if it wasn't for the self-pity expressed by those orbs looking back at himself. He was banged up a bit, and the old scar on his shell told the story. If he was smarter, he would have taken a similar form like he did with Pyhrus, but instead tried to use the strength as he naturally was. Small and weak. It was infuriating to think about, and only added to that self-loathing on what he had done. Probably the worse part about being other people, you tend to have to live with the things you wouldn't do, but you have to be the part. In this case, he just hurt some griffon's life by tearing into her family. They all lie, they all manipulate, but that doesn't make it go down any better. "Bashful, can you come up here for a minute? I need to get some supplies." Orange Lace's voice came from up the stairs, and it took Bashful a slow moment to start climbing up them as he took the form of the tailor with the green and black mane. Putting on his beret filled with needles, pins and thread, he reached the top. Orange Lace was standing beside the customer, an all too familiar face. "I have to get some... thread. Big project tomorrow, hate to have any delays. Bashful Thread here will take care of you dear, Toodles!" Problem with living with someone smarter than you are, they tend to exploit that, and Lace definetly was. She stepped outside, with a hidden look of You Owe Me. Before Bashful could react, she was out the door. There was a long bit of awkward silence from him as he looked around, not sure what to even say. "Um... Hi. W-welcome to Orange Lace's Budget Boutique! My name is Bashful Thread... though I guess you already knew that. Sorry. I just, um.. never mind. So how can I help you today? Hemming an existing item, or are you looking for something specific, maybe you want something custom made..." He was thankful he silenced himself when he did. Nervousness made him ramble, and it was tough enough when it was a stranger. Did Pyhrus come to? What did he tell her? She was a Griffon after all, scary talons and beak. Not that she was as threatening as her uncle, he couldn't help but draw parallels from his first encounter with a griffon, now it felt like history was about to repeat itself. He was reminding himself to not change until she was out of the building.

@@Blitz Boom Bashful Thread landed softly enough, trying to be careful not to undo the stitching that was holding Giddon's, now Pyhrus' insides from splitting out. The emergency services rushed out and upon seeing the state of the red giant, started to bring stretchers and all kinds of equipment that Bashful Thread couldn't even begin to understand. Sometimes posing as a pony was hard, but thankfully, he didn't have to run the devices they brought forward as they struggled to hoist Pyhrus' body onto the gurney. Taking hold of the bag, he slung it onto his back. Looking at Florence, it was all to clear this young one's world just got turned upside down and inside out. He felt a strong sense of pity for this small griffon, a complete contrast to her uncle, and it hurt not to show it. Florence after all didn't force him out into the wild to almost get killed by forces he couldn't begin to understand. No, that responsibility was being pulled away on a stretcher. "He'll be alright. Tough old bird, that one. You on the other hand, you need to get yourself fixed up, you look like a mess." It was true, if Orange Lace saw the state they were all in, she would loose her mind, followed swiftly by Bashful's head. He sighed heavily thinking on how he could even hide this mess from Orange Lace and Firecracker. "Look kid, it's gonna be touch and go for a while. Only good thing that came out of this is at least a few of the lies were brought to light, and it's not like he's going anywhere in the near future. Spend some time, get acquainted with Giddon... er... Pyhrus, see what you make of him without the rose coloured glasses. On the other hoof, I am sure most will be marching into town and he'll probably spin it that he made it out to safe those prisoners. Whatever he want's to do, our business is concluded." Starting to turn and walk away from this situation, Bashful stopped. "I'll hold onto this for him until he's ready to pick it up. It's what he wanted more than anything, seems almost getting shuffled off the mortal coil will do it." "You on the other hand, maybe you should get some rest, some sleep, something to eat. I'd suggest dropping by a shop and picking up a dress or something, bring some normalcy to your life. Hear there are shops that rival some of the best in Canterlot or Manehattan. Personally though..." Bashful looked over Florence very closely, studying her for a moment. "... I've always had a fondness for something more simple. Sure there is something around here that would fit you to a tee." It was then Bashful took his leave of this nightmare adventure. Giddon would come to the shop for the sack, he may even be thankful. What he did to that young griffon though, to family, that was inexcusable. Anything Florence wanted to do was fine by him. --------------------------- Bashful Thread entered Orange Lace's Budget Boutique in the form of Haze Guard, that massive pegesis that rivaled Giddon for size. The shop was not how he left it, now all his hard work and cleaning scattered as he watched Orange Lace, with her yellow mane tied in a bun behind her head and green eyes looking over him, tried to greet him as a customer. It wasn't until Bashful walked right past her with just a nod, and started to go down stairs, letting his body become enveloped in green fire, leaving only Bashful's real form, Scissor Biter, a changeling walking down to his room. The stresses and hunger were written all over his face. Orange Lace came down after him, finding Bashful was sprawled out on his bed, face first into a pillow, the bag laying at the foot of the bed. "Rough day?" She responded in that silk voice of hers, the kind that even in sarcasm seemed to bring an ease to the room. Bashful's stomach decided to respond to the question with a low grumble.

@@Blitz Boom "Look kid, I'm no hero. I'm here because your Uncle decided that he wanted to bring backup incase..." Bashful looked down at the remains of Giddon, who hung onto life as Bashful held onto him, flying over treetops with his family. "... incase something like this happened to go down. He felt the need to steal an artifact, and he chose to go after the artifact when we ran into the prisoners. Me, I just got left with them to get them out, and it's probably been the hardest thing I've had to do next to carrying him right now." That was a crude lie at best. The hardest part was denying any praise she gave him. It was nice to be a Hero, and not have to lie about it. The reality is he couldn't get too close to Florence, if Giddon ever found out he'd surely come after Bashful twice as hard, and then he'd lose whatever stability he got in Ponyville. He did consider telling her the truth, revealing himself as he was, but then he remembered; Everypony lies, everypony manipulates. Bashful just needed to be smarter about it than most. "He didn't mention any family though. Maybe that's how he wanted it. I only knew him as Giddon, didn't know his real name was Pyhrus. Show's what he tells people. That was probably the point. Trying to run from it all, start over. We may have more in common than he let on in that regard. Either way, he wanted his family to believe he was dead. So I guess the question is, do you have any intention in honouring his wishes?" Turning his head to Florence, he watched her and became a bit melancholic. Watching her was watching the grieving process all over again. That at least he could understand. Part of being a brood means you are a part of a whole, and every loss is felt by the rest. Even now, it took a great deal of concentration just to not think about what Giddon may have done to his siblings. That thought was enough to make him want to drop him. "Guess you couldn't give up on him if you tried. Family tends to do that, bring out parts of us we didn't think we had. Then again, we also become our worst around family. You'd be amazed at how far family will go for one another." "As for why. Long story short, he threatened me and my family. So no, I don't believe he's a 'Good Colt', or whatever you would call yourselves. He'll find a way to justify anything, but in the end it's about what he wants, damn the consequences. Whatever he needs to tell himself to let him sleep at night. He'll probably try to justify it to you too, maybe play on your sympathy." "The only reason we are flying him over is because of you."

@@Blitz Boom There was a dark thought that ran into Bashful Thread's mind as he watched Florence, that small griffon crying over Giddon's wounded body; Maybe I should let him die. He knows too much, it would be safer, and no one would know. The problem was, Bashful would know. He would know he let another life die. That's what Bashful tried telling himself anyway, as he moved over top of the wounded giant laying on the forest floor. Then he looked at Florence, tears starting to swell as she pleaded for Giddon's life. If she could tell him everything, then by Mother's orders he had to. It would ease his conscience anyway. His siblings were right; Scissor Biter, you're too soft. "Alright, alright... By Celestia, just get it together. Florence, I can't carry both of you so I NEED you to stay focused. All of us are in this right up to the neck, so we gotta get moving." It hurt Bashful to say the last thing he would ever tell someone else in such distress. That's the problem he finds himself in too often. Feeling one thing and saying another. Reaching down with shaking hoof, he tried to grasp hold of the blood slick feathery carcass of the behemoth, picking him up and expanding his wings. It was tough to hoist him on his back, flying felt like he was asked to move a mountain. "How do you... uhg.. know him?" Grunting trying to lift Giddon was more of a chore than moving a mountain. How does somepony like him even get flight? Taking off, he started to make his way, not even looking back to check on Florence. He could only assume she was there. "You have no idea how much trouble he's been for me. He's been a pain in my flank since we met. And after him dragging me out here, now I'm the one dragging him back. Life just ain't fair." Bashful tried to push aside the thought of dropping him from this height. "You're gonna get me killed, I hope you know that you son of a crust." Was that the expression? Bashful Thread looked down at the unconscious Giddon, and wondered how in that metallic talon of his continued to grip the burlap sack. "What in Luna's name is he carrying anyway?" "Alright Florence, start from the beginning..."

Well, the problem is that Damien is a reference. Damien was the name of the Anti-Christ in The Omen movies, tied with the colour pallet and the lack of backstory due to a broken link, I could only make the association that you were trying to make him as dark as possible.

@@Watcher or Stalker? Not sure if you caught the character sheet (Post Above Yours). I pretty much played Bingo with the suggestions and tried to write it into something interesting. Working on illustration to give him a bit more of a standout look, making him the best of the worst that I can. Looking for feedback. Tell me, how many does he hit on your bingo-sheet?

https://mlpforums.com/page/roleplay-characters/_/nighttide-whisper-r9452 Ok, that's the first draft of the story and am currently working on the illustration. When I got it finished, tell me what you think. Did I fall flat on my face with this challenge?

Blitz went once too often to the brain bleach. Slash fiction will do that to ya, yours has become the cautionary tale of shipping.

((This is an exercise in writing, as I am not a writer by any means, but I wanted to start trying to produce something today, so I am taking the next 30 minutes to just start writing and see what I come up, looking for critique. This was inspired by the song "Servant Of The Queen - Crysalis Another Story" and I will be listening to this song for tone. Feedback is valued.)) =========================================================== For The Queen So Dear ------------------------------- Beaten, Routed, and Scattered a long ways away, the only thought going through Razorback's mind was the same as he could only assume was the same going through the minds of his brothers and sisters. How did this happen? Those ponies of Canterlot, that majestic city of spires and high walls was in their grasp. Changelings, those who's form were malleable, who had held it for but a few moments, were now being thrown through the air after some kind of magical barrier ejected them from their rightful place. It was then he saw Her. His Queen, even after being cast aside like the rest of them, still filled him with pride that would never falter. His eyes only caught her for a moment before the branches of hardwood trees greeted his shell, and a sudden kiss of harder earth stopped his decent with a heavy crashing. Vision going dark, the world still seemed to spin around him as he tried to move. Stabbing pain greeted him as turned to his side, the membrane of his wing torn, and a yell that Razorback couldn't believe was his own soared through the trees to be greeted by silence. Still he had to stand, had to get moving. Lying on his back was painful enough, but even more so was his pride in her was far more grievously wounded. Stumbling to his feet, and pulling the branches out of the holes that adorned his legs with his fanged teeth, his eyes tried to look about for some familiar face. The taste of tree sap clung to the roof of his mouth, and it was enough to make him gag. Weakly, he pushed on. His wing hurt so much, torn and useless. Now he had to walk along the ground like some pony. They were probably celebrating a grand victory right now, while Razorback and his brood were left to wallow in the mud. He couldn't give them the satisfaction of a defeated self, even as he stumbled over himself trying to push forward. Forward to where? Where could he go? That loneliness started to creep in. Part of being a brood means you are never alone, but even among his heart there was that confusion he shared with the rest of them all. Then he thought of his beloved Queen. Mother. He imagined her fall could not have been much softer, Where did she land? Was she safe? Inside, he could feel it like every changeling could. Concern, Panic, but above all else; Duty. He pushed through the woods, among tall trees and cast long shadows and day came to night. Searching, it was quite some time before he could even tell he wasn't alone in the forest. Shadows moved all around him, ducking behind trees and brush, hiding among the darker parts of his vision. Pain shot in his side with every step, reminding him there is no escape. He couldn't leave even if he wanted to, but there was no part of him that wanted that either. Find Queen Chrysalis, make sure Mother was safe. That figure who had been there since he hatched and as he grew, caring for the whole of her brood, so much so that She would attack the seat of power in all of Equestria just to be sure that they could all feed. Self pity was cut off by the growls as the sun set, leaving the sky a darkening blue, and the stars came one by one out of hiding, a reminder of the power that those greedy ponies would keep all for themselves. Wooden claws started to emerge from the darkness, creatures constructed of twigs and sticks and anger pulled themselves from the blackened shadows of wilderness. Razorback started to gallop as fast as his legs would carry, daring not to look back. There was no reason, and he felt his breath burning his lungs, his legs began to ach, the wounds from the fall taking their tole as the beasts, Timber Wolves, kept chasing for their meal. For the briefest of moments, he considered changing his form into one of them, it may be safer. Unfortunately, that would probably only get him delivered as a free dinner for the broken-stick maws behind him, able to sniff him out. Being wounded, it was clear why they thought about attacking him. Feeling the breath of his pursuers upon his neck, he pushed hard to keep just that one second ahead. The forest became lit with a sickly green, and the way ahead of him was blindingly light, giving Razorback only the smallest window to throw himself back into the dirt, back to tasting the earth in his maw as he hit the forest floor, turning only in time to see one of the beasts behind him. The light crashed into the timber wolf, throwing it back into the treeline. It's pack had stopped their chase, and started to spread out, starting to encircle him. "Where are the others, Razorback?" That voice! Mother was here! Bringing himself to his feet, he looked upon her. Queen Chrysalis, Mother of Changelings, stood with that cold conviction he had admired her so much for. Bringing himself to his hoofs, he turned to the predators who lurked in shadow. Razor's voice was shaking and clearly winded from his run. "I have not seen anyone else, My Queen." Queen Chrysalis looked down upon Razorback, seeing the torn wing that hung just outside of it's protective shell. "Do you expect me to carry you?" Razorback smiled at the taunting. If She had shown concern, then he would be worried. It was unbecoming of a Queen to show such concern in the face of danger. Never let them take your face. "No, My Queen!" he said with as much false bravado as he could muster. Mother served as such a good example. There were three more of the wooden monsters, charging out from around them. From the horn upon his head, he gathered what little energy he could, throwing it forward into a green bolt of energy at the first creature that would threaten his Queen. Splinters came off the creature's side as it fell back, and Razorback felt his knees give out, collapsing. He was so weak, so hungry, wounded. His Queen however did not seemed near as worse off as he had feared, and it was clear she still carried much of the power from their attempted conquest of Canterlot. The first was dispatched with haste, being blown to kindling as she shown Razorback what real changeling magic was. It was the third Timber Wolf though that found it's way close to Mother. As Queen Chrysalis defended herself against one attacker, the other took upon the opportunity. Lunging faster than he could believe, She could only turn to see it upon her. A loud crash followed, and the beast was thrown away, but She only stood with her jaw agape. The sound was comforting. The buzzing of wings and the feeling of their beating brushing cool wind upon his shell. Razorback looked up high, and he saw a handful of Her brood. Sisters and Brothers together, revealed to have found their Majesty. The remaining Timber Wolves ran off, scurrying into the underbrush, rustling leaves and making their exit. Razorback started to close his eyes, when Her voice came to his ear again. "You're not going to lie their all night are you?" A soft smirk came across his face, looking up at Her and the rest of the brood. Slowly, he tried to raise himself back up once again. He was spent, muscles not willing to move, pain sharply reminding him that he was still there. There was something else though. A fading of hunger, a filling of his heart and a strength of a mother's love. Rickety legs started to push him upward as he stood. She looked at him, almost amused that he had literally and figuratively risen to her challenge. Never let them take your face.

@@Seamore Sandwich Well, I'll look forward to running into them when current events work out. Looks like everyone has their plate full