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The Pirates are the Good Guys (Private RP)


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Today marked a week and three days since the storm had separated the Changeling from the other Changeling scouts. The crash-landing on the island had not been kind to him. One of his wings was broken, he had sprained a leg, bumped his head, and suffered from scratches everywhere. Along with that, a week and three days without any love to feed on meant he was operating with a level of hunger he had never experienced before. He longed for the guidance, unity, and comfort of the hive. Without the hive, it was harder to think, harder to make decisions, harder to figure out what he should be doing. His attempts to get off of the island were all for naught. The raft he had tried building had washed away with the tide, he couldn't build a catapult to save his life (which was precisely what he was trying to do), he had no way of knowing how to take care of his injuries so that he could fly off the accursed island and back to the hive.

It was understandable that he had started to despair. The despair only deepened when he realized that he could barely remember what the Queen looked like or who he had been in the hive. It was distressing to have such an ingrained identity within the hive start fading away like so many grains of sand on the shore. But hope came that day. As he looked out longingly over the ocean, he noticed a dot on the horizon. A dot, which as it grew closer, took the form of a ship. This was the Changeling's chance.

Somebody had to be on that ship, most likely somebodies of the pony variety. That meant he might be able to feed. A ship also meant he could finally get off the island and perhaps find a way to get back to the hive. He laid in wait, watching as the crew left the ship.


The Changeling had been trying to decide what he should do first. He could try ambushing one of the ponies, taking their form, and then feed on any love he might receive from other ponies. But with his injuries, the chance of successfully ambushing anypony was slim at best. He could try stowing away in the ship while everyone was distracted by... whatever they were doing there, but there was no telling how long he would be able to hide without being discovered, and he was already very hungry as it was. His stomach was already threatening to give him away with the noises it was making.

It was starting to get dark, and the Changeling retreated to the cave he had been taking shelter in. The sound of howling made him shudder as it usually did. He had yet to run into any howling creatures, and he hoped that he could avoid running into them until he could make a decision about what to do. He quickened his pace. The sprain in his leg had gotten a little better, at least.

There was another howl, and it sounded like it was closer. Too close. The Changeling looked back, blue-green compound eyes darting wildly for signs of a threat. He narrowly missed being pounced on by a timberwolf and took off at a run. The formerly sprained leg pained him in protest, but another look back told him three hungry timberwolves were ready to gobble him up at the nearest opportunity.

He soon realized that timberwolves were not entirely mindless predators when they managed to corner him near a downed tree that was far too massive for him to climb over. Flight was obviously not an option, either. The Changeling bore his fangs, and his one good wing managed to make a semi-threatening buzzing noise. His horn glowed a neon-like green as he attempted to change into a more threatening form, but the green glow produced a spark that sputtered and quickly died. He was far too weak from hunger to do any shape-shifting. The timberwolves were unimpressed and continued to advance. One of them prepared to lunge.

The Changeling tried not to cower, but he did close his eyes and hope being torn limb from limb by timberwolves was not as painful as it sounded.

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