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Nopony's an Island (Private: ATTN Zeig & Scootalux)


Pretzelparty

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The unsettling realization of animals not seen on the beach was made even stranger as Foxglove reported not seeing any in the jungle where she foraged for food. Either this was truly a deserted island with only plants or worse something had devoured all fauna save for them! He didn't want to mention that fact to the group though as they were already marooned. 

"Well, hopefully we'll see some soon. As long as the plants are edible on this island then that's what matters." 

Speaking of plants, he was about to help himself to some that Foxglove recovered to tie him over for the trek to the cave but found Inkbrand noshing on them... a lot of them.

"You gonna save some for Foxglove and I?" 

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Er - was he talking to him?

 

Apparently he was, prompting Imkbrand to take a long and pointed look at the small hoof full of dandelions he'd claimed for himself, then drag his gaze over to both Foxed Glove's umbrella - where the dandelions were by far the most abundant food source amidst the potatoes and onions - and the other small hoof full the mare was offering Weaver but he'd apparently decided to ignore. 

 

"Gee, I don't know," the grey stallion said sardonically, and made an exaggerated show of shoving another dandelion into his mouth, "you gonna stand there talking, or eat some of 'em yourself?" Just for spite, Inkbrand threw back another dandelion, effectively bringing an end to the small pile he'd had and wiping his mouth with the back of his hoof. Because buck, the umbrella was still full of them, and a few other things besides. And whether they liked it or not, the food was going to spoil quickly in both the air and the heat, so they'd need to be eaten quickly, anyways. 

 

Unless they were able to throw together some sort of ice box or something. Among other things.

 

There was some conversation going on about the lack of wild animals on the island, though that wasn't exactly a bad thing in the grey Earth Pony's eyes. Meant there was no chance of some deranged jungle cat munching on their flanks, right? If there were no small mammals and prey animals around, no chance of larger and more dangerous beasts. 

 

"Move on," Inkbrand decided, already picking his way up the beach in the direction the ivory mare had come from, "better to get settled in first - then comes the face stuffing." If they were moving further inland though, one of the first things they'd have to do is figure out a way to monitor the coast line for passing ships, because being surrounded by dense foliage was not that conducive to flagging down potential rescuers. Maybe they could get some sort of tree fort thing going, something high enough in the canopy...

 

But, shelter first. Then food. Then everything else. One bucking thing at a time.

 

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Foxglove tilted her head a moment at Loreweaver's question. While it may not have been directed at her it was rather strange, "Um... Mister Weaver. I don't mean to be rude but are you feeling alright?" The mare took another few dandelion's in her hooves and began to chew. She reached over and pulled a hoof-full out to offer the stallion, "I brought back enough food for all of us... enough for use to hold on to in case it turns out there is something on this island that we'll need the energy to run away from... I hope your cardio is good." 

Foxglove took note of the slight friction between Inkbrand and Lore weaver. Perhaps it was both the island climate and the awful circumstances. When things go do horribly wrong on what you expect to be a cruise, it's fine to be a bit testy. It was also possible that Inkbrand and Lore just had personalities that naturally clashed with each-other, that could be a bit of a problem later on if it turned out their stay on this island was going to be much lengthier than any of them would prefer.

With Inkbrand's declaration of ...

"Move on," Inkbrand decided, already picking his way up the beach in the direction the ivory mare had come from, "better to get settled in first - then comes the face stuffing."

...Foxglove gave a chuckle. She had a this strange feeling of Nostalgia at the stallion's willingness to take charge of the situation. Before her started walking towards the forest she bent her foreleg in a bow and said, "Lead on... My liege." in a playful manner, hoping the stallion would catch her reference. The Ivory mare hit a small switch on her Umbrella and closed it up, laying it across her back and momentarily buckling at the additional weight of the food caught in it. Despite the strain it put she decided to walk on alongside the stallion who went first into the jungle.

...

... ...

... ... ...

"Okay. This silence is managing to unnerve even me." She spoke up for a moment. Now that the group was actually in the forest and away from the shore, the background noise of the waves washing against the shore was at first close, within earshot, and then gone. The quiet of the island was mmuch more noticable now. With no animals around... that meant no sound besides the wind. No chirping from birds, no croaking frogs, nothing. 

In the desperate hopes of breaking this she tried to strike up a conversation, it was a bit of a walk to the cave and the clearing anyway. "So..." The mare looked to both her companions in this misadventure, "I was pretty relieved both of you are fine with what I brought. I was worried one of you might be allergic to dandelions or something like that."

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"Gee, I don't know," the grey stallion said sardonically, and made an exaggerated show of shoving another dandelion into his mouth, "you gonna stand there talking, or eat some of 'em yourself?"

Ok, Lore deserved that. The stallion was afraid that Inkbrand wouldn't know when to stop and then all of Foxglove's efforts to find food would be for naught.

Um... Mister Weaver. I don't mean to be rude but are you feeling alright? I brought back enough food for all of us... enough for use to hold on to in case it turns out there is something on this island that we'll need the energy to run away from... I hope your cardio is good." 

"Sorry Inkbrand, Foxglove. Guess the heat and this place is getting to me. It's just that that I don't know what's here and worried if we stop something will happen. Guess I'm so used to knowing things that when the unknown hits it's hard to get used to. But I can't be acting like this when it's just the three of us to count on, so again sorry, and thanks for the offer of food Foxglove."

"Move on," Inkbrand decided, already picking his way up the beach in the direction the ivory mare had come from, "better to get settled in first - then comes the face stuffin."

Lore made no complaint towards this, not after he upset the Earth pony. It was his defense mechanism that when he was upset or upset somepony he remained silent lest he further kick the hornet's nest. But as the sounds of the ocean disappeared, there was nothing, and his silence wasn't making things better. It was quiet, too quiet.

"Okay. This silence is managing to unnerve even me, out."

"I was pretty relieved both of you are fine with what I brought. I was worried one of you might be allergic to dandelions or something like that."

"Nah, I'm used to lots of kinds of food, so I don't think I'm allergic to anything."

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Even with the white mare's parting comment that had a corner of his lips quirking upwards, Inkbrand continued to lead the blind charge into the jungle, the purple Unicorn's apology taking up all the space inside his head. 

 

Because honestly, he'd been a bit surprised at the extended and kind of exaggerated apology. The grey Earth Pony had no problem sniping and quipping and generally being a little rot with his friends, and he usually got back as good as he gave. It was just how they interacted with each other. Any real annoyance he'd felt with Lore Weaver had pretty much evaporated into the wind as soon as he'd gotten a move on, incident forgotten because buck, if everyone held onto every word from everyone else, the world would be a lot more bitter than it already was. 

 

Apparently the purple Unicorn had taken his sniping to heart though - certainly seemed contrite enough. Way too much for the toothless snapping he'd been doing, in Inkbrand's own opinion. Still, if that's how he wanted to play it, he certainly wasn't about to complain.

 

It was a way better response than the 'righteous indignation' he'd fully been expecting, to be honest. 

 

"Which way did you say the cave was, Glove?" the tattoo-clad stallion called out, unwittingly interrupting their conversation about food allergies as his snout turned this way and that in the dense jungle. Because buck, Foxed Glove was right, the silence was getting to be a bit unnatural. Especially in a place like this, that was supposedly unpopulated by ponies. There should have at least been some bugs buzzing around, looking to suck up some sweet sap, or whatever it was they ate. "Buck. This jungle's starting to give me the creeps."  

 

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"I made a few turns while I was foraging to find it so I made sure to mark the trees and repeat the process when I came back..." Foxglove had made sure to make sure she could find her way back without getting lost. In the hopes of not harming the tree's bark she decided to take a long vine from a plant nearby and wrapped it around the tree in a ribbon that stood out. "Just look for a green vine wrapped around one of the tree trunks here...shouldn't be too hard on the palms here. I would have carved something into the bark but... My parents were botanists and they were kind of hardcore tree-huggers before they started growing and selling flowers. I got a lecture on how horrible it was to damage tree bark if I did. It's weird how much foalhood can affect us as adults isn't it?" 

Soon the tree she mentioned came into view as this walk seemed to drag on for a bit. Rather excited to try and get out of this rather creepy forest she picked up the pace a bit stepping a few paces a head of the group. "Okay, from this tree I took a--"

SNAP!

Foxglove's eyes went wide as She felt something tighten up around her hind leg. She looked to the source of some loud winding sound for a split second before she was yanked by her hind leg and pulled towards another tree Before she knew it, Everything was upside down as she hung, suspended in the air by the rope now tied around her fetlock. It was an interested sight as the gravity forced her to have her other leg still extended and pointing off to the side as she tried to pull herself up.

The normally serene state of her face was gone now... as she hung a rather undignified position to be in front of anypony and had to look at them from her now inverted perspective; Her face now had a scowl on it and for a moment one might see her eye twitching as she talked with a tranquil fury in her voice, "Well... where at first I found this place unsettling, now I absolutely hate it... Someone had to have set this up... and if both of you were at the beach." The mar e thought a moment and shouted as she slowly rotated while strung up, "If this is some sort of tabloid prank or something..." she mumbled before trying to bring back her usual smile. This time it felt a bit awkward as she asked her two companions, "Could I get some help?"

 

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Lore had to admit that his apology sounded...excessive. Ok, so he was prone to spouting exposition and not taking a quip like what Inkbrand was doing. Maybe he needed to get out more, take time from the books and actually talk to somepony besides library visitors. But this wasn't the biggest problem he faced now. The island was very strange, and the silence which Lore was used to where he worked was unnerving here. 

"No birds, no animals, not even a bug to be seen. Even the sounds of the waves and wind are silent entering this jungle. I agree Inkbrand, we should find shelter." 

Luckily Foxglove developed a way to find her way back, which hopefully meant a faster and safer way back. 

"Glad that you left markers to find your way back. The sooner we get back to the cave the better."

He didn't travel long before Foxglove was caught into a snare trap, hanging by one leg in the air like a weird puppet. 

"Well... where at first I found this place unsettling, now I absolutely hate it... Someone had to have set this up... and if both of you were at the beach. If this is some sort of tabloid prank or something..." 

"Yeah, we were both trying to set up the shelter. I got a bad feeling about this. Something is trapping something else, or worse us. We're not alone." 

"Could I get some help?"

"Yeah sure. Inkbrand can you find where the snare is anchored to and untie it? I have to be here and catch Foxglove with my magic. When you're about to untie it, let me know." 

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Alright, now it was getting weird.

 

Because who the buck set up snares on a deserted island that apparently wasn't as deserted as it seemed? No one, that's who. Except that someone clearly had, and that someone hadn't been himself or Weaver. And hopefully not Foxed Glove as well, because if this had been some sort of practical joke she'd set up, she clearly had missed the point of it, springing the trap herself. Which meant, someone else had made it. What were the chances that some other island survivor had set it up long before the three of them ever got there, once that only now was triggered by coincidence? 

 

...Eh. Slim to none, probably. Pony logic tended to skew that way.

 

At least the view was pretty nice, prompting Inkbrand to get an eyeful before Weaver's voice so rudely cut into his inspection of smooth and unblemished white skin. Though, the reasoning for the purple Unicorn's staying in place had him snickering. "Yeah sure, if that's what you tell yourself," the tattoo clad stallion quipped gleefully, golden eyes drawing upwards to follow the rope from where it suspended Foxed Glove under a tree branch. As if a pony couldn't simply stretch out his hooves and, you know, catch a falling pony. But what the hay, if Lore Weaver had it out for the white mare and wanted to play hero, who was he to get in the way? Bros helping out bros, 'n all.

 

And luckily for him, the trap turned out to be not all that much, even with Inkbrand's own complete and utter lack of knowledge for the skill. The end of the rope was secured in a spike settled in the ground a ways into a bush, and the grey Earth Pony turned around with a shouted "Heads up!" before bucking the spike, and subsequent suspended trap, out of commission. 

 

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While she was indeed suspended, Foxglove was hardly in danger of suffering a lethal drop once the line had been cut. The wheels in her head started clicking while she wondered if the heat was getting to Lore Weaver again... Well, at least his heart was in the right place.Foxglove whistled a slow soulful series of notes as Inkbrand searched about for the "anchor" of the trap that turned out to be hidden in a bush a few paces away.  

 

Foxglove braced herself as soon as she heard the warning from Inkbrand. The tension of the rope was gone and she was soon sent into a short fall before she was caught on a (for lack of a better word) Cushion of telekinetic energy which definitely made her landing more pleasant, but no less embarassing as from how she was hanging it effectively ensured she land face first into the dirt with her tail in the air. The mare pulled herself up and laughed somewhat awkwardly. "Thanks for that, both of you." She smiled at the two before her eyes drifted over to the braided rope that was still tied to her hindleg. "Hm... Someone put a bit of extra work into this. These vines don't grow entwined in nature... So this thing must have been here a while; maybe a day or two before we got here." 

 

It was times like these she envied unicorn magic. Having to stick your leg out in front of you like a cat was hardly the most conservative pose a pony could be making as she tried to undo the knot with her hooves. Seems the ones behind the trap had gotten quite good at tying knots as well, the vine rope was digging into her fetlock rather uncomfortably, and the only way out as she fiddled with it seemed to be... The mare was about ready to try and chew through it in her frustration before she furrowed her brow, rather annoyed at her own lack of thought about this situation's solution; Lore was right there next to her and had magic. 

"Sorry ta ask ya again about this... but, ya think you can undo this knot fer me?"

 

"Inkbrand, could you show me whatever it was you kicked over there?" Foxglove was honestly getting a bit worried about their trio spreading out too far... she'd rather not have to wind up asking Lore to try and catch their ha- interesting companion in this increasingly eerie situation from another snare trap: Fox's gut feeling told her that... Really neither stallion would enjoy such an event.

 

 

 

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Lore Weaver had to only say his plan for Inkbrand to snicker at it. Ok, so he wasn't the most athletic pony. But Lore's idea was not to try and catch the hapless Foxglove in his hooves but with his magic. He caught several falling books before with his telekinesis, so a pony shouldn't be that difficult. right?

 

"Heads up!" 

 

The unicorn heard Inkbrand kick something loose and watched the rope holding Foxglove go from taut to loose. He tried catching her, but instead of grabbing her with his telekinesis he instead grabbed the rope she was still attached to and her tail! And there Foxglove hung, her face in the dirt and hanging upside down again. Well, at least she didn't hit the ground hard. 

 

"Err...sorry about that. I didn't take into consideration how fast you'd fall," Lore replied as he lowered the mare to her hooves. The last thing he wanted was for her to be in such an awkward position further. 

 

"Thanks for that, both of you. Hm... Someone put a bit of extra work into this. These vines don't grow entwined in nature... So this thing must have been here a while; maybe a day or two before we got here." 

 

"Definitely looks like somepony spent quite some time braiding this rope to make a snare," Lore said lifting the rope slightly with his magic to study it, "I wonder what or who they were trying to catch if this was set up a few days ago." 

 

"Sorry ta ask ya again about this... but, ya think you can undo this knot fer me?"

 

"Oh, right. Give me a second to undo the knot and...there you go! You are snare free!" 

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A rather distinct sounding thud! seemed to signal the success of their impromptu plan - or at least his part, what with Weaver apparently only catching about half the mare - but whatever, mission accomplished. 

 

No sooner was he heading back to the group was there another call, this one from Foxed Glove looking for what he'd just knocked over. Inkbrand rolled his eyes, but dutifully turned back around to grab what was left of the makeshift trap...which was, namely, the spike that had been embedded into the ground to suspend the rope. With a deft sweep of his tail, the tattoo-clad stallion had it clasped in one hoof, rather than his mouth. Because buck it, he wasn't a neat freak like some ponies he knew, but even he knew better than to put strange and dirt-covered objects into his mouth. 

 

Well...most of the time, he knew that. Times excluding pieces of precious, precious Cake pie that could fall into a radioactive mud pile and he'd still eat 'em.

 

"This is it," Inkbrand informed the other two ponies as he broke free of a bush to rejoin the group, tossing the stake up and down a few times before holding it out towards the white mare, "just that. Looked like it was just grounding the rope." So that the whole thing didn't go falling flat on the ground with the weight of a grown pony weighing it down. The trap itself, however, didn't provide much insight into the real question, that being what the buck was whatever pony responsible trying to catch? A dangerous animal? Probably not with this flimsy rope trap that any animal worth its salt would be able to claw its way out of. Prey animals?...Inkbrand knew that griffons had some weird taste in food, even some ponies did - though the thought was enough to make him throw up. 

 

Other ponies?...

 

Hopefully, they hadn't wandered into some territorial debate between previously marooned ponies who had subsequently degenerated into mindless animals thanks to limited resources and competitive spirits. That, probably wasn't the case, right?

 

Right?...

 

Increasingly morbid thoughts aside, Foxed Glove was looking rather put out, and while Inkbrand might have felt similarly inclined to punch the nearest living thing after being suspended upside by a coarse trap, the mare seemed more than just annoyed. "Leg alright?" he questioned, eyeing said leg speculatively. She hadn't seemed in physical distress during said upside down ordeal, but gravity tended to work in strange ways, when a pony's joint felt the stress of the entire body pulling between limb and weight.

 

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Foxglove's irritation at the situation was only rising; It rose at a snail's pace, but it was still rising. The good company and assistance was helping her keep her calm. The second she set her left hind leg's hoof down she grimaced. Not terribly surprising to learn she pulled something. The trap gave her a sudden yank up into the air and caught her at a vulnerable moment. Despite the tenderness of her hoof, she seemed determined to push on through it.

 

"Thank you again, Mister Weaver." The mare bowed her head politely and looked over the rope, "If I had to make a wager, I'd say whoever set this up was hoping maybe one pony or some other unfortunate soul would come through here alone. The loop in this was big enough to snare my hoof so they must have been after something pony sized..." 

 

"Mn... I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my leg." The mare looked back at her hind leg, "Hurts if I put too much weight on it, but I'll live." She put said leg down a moment, shifting her weight around in place she wobbled until she winced let out a faint whimper in pain. "If I adjust my gait I'll be alright... " Foxglove wasn't a doctor or anything, she could make the guess based on how she felt. The full extend of her knowledge on fixing injuries were mostly cuts or bruises, not stretched or torn tendons or muscle fibers. For the timebeing all she could do was hope that it wasn't worse than she was feeling. 

Possibly in the hopes of taking her mind off the pain in her leg, She looked over to Inkbrand. "Thanks, Inkbrand. I'll be sure to watch your ... back in case there are any other signs of traps around here." The ivory mare put a subtle emphasis on the ninth word in her statement.For a second she had a strangely hinting smile on her muzzle before looked down to her leg, wincing as she tried to take a few steps. In a less delicate situation she might have been more open about her thoughts but seeing as there were two other pony's here with her and this situation most likely would benefit from them working together; showing an overt preference to one or the other might prove problematic so subtlety would have to do. 

 

So as not to let things stay quiet and keep some spirits up she thought up another  question to hopefully promote some camaraderie, "Do either of you prefer to be called by nicknames at all?"

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Lore Weaver could see that Foxglove was irritated, and rightfully so. It was bad enough that the three were on some deserted island with nary an animal to be found. Now they faced the possibility of there being something or somepony hunting them! What troubled Lore was the unknown of the situation. He could not see who set this trap up or its intent and it was only their stumbling upon it that revealed it. 

 

"Thank you again, Mister Weaver." 

 

"You're welcome. Can't have you hanging in the air like that." 

 

Inkbrand then returned with the final piece of the trap, the stake that held the hapless Foxglove aloft. 

 

 "If I had to make a wager, I'd say whoever set this up was hoping maybe one pony or some other unfortunate soul would come through here alone. The loop in this was big enough to snare my hoof so they must have been after something pony sized..." 

 

"Hmm... definitely big enough for a pony, and by its construction we are talking about something with the basic level of intelligence to build traps. Whether this creature is smart enough to track your movements Foxglove or if they just put this trap here in the hopes of catching something randomly I can't say."

 

He could go on about primitive trap making displayed by early hunter gatherer societies, But he could see that Foxglove was in pain when she placed her hoof on the ground previously tethered to the rope. No doubt that either the initial pull of the snare or the impact from the fall caused it. 

 

"Mn... I'm pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my leg. "Hurts if I put too much weight on it, but I'll live." 

 

"I'm no doctor, but if it was a muscle tear or a sprain you probably wouldn't be standing much less walking as it would be too painful. Unfortunately aside from ice the only way to stop the pain is to stay off it, which also right now isn't an option."

 

Lore tried to hide the awkward feeling when Foxglove mentioned protecting Inkbrand's back and that subtle smile she gave him. Did she have feelings for the tattooed stallion? If that was so, then his presence might be a damper on this already strange situation. 

 

"Do either of you prefer to be called by nicknames at all?"

 

"Not really. I just go by my first name," Lore said hoping that Inkbrand didn't have any clever name for him. He heard many of them already: nerd, geek, dork, bookworm, and egghead. 

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Mmm, if she said she was alright then he wasn't going to say anything. Though, in his utterly non-professional, "I've-gotten-into-too-many-bar-fights-in-my-life" opinion, that leg was looking a bit peaky. 

 

In any case, Foxed Glove was either fine like she said, or lying. If it was the latter, Inkbrand seriously hoped her tough-as-nails act didn't come back to bite them all on the flank. Probably when they were all on a high speed run away from whatever malevolent being was lurking in these jungles, because that's how it always worked in the novels and movies, the classic, 'forgotten injury acts up at worst possible time, ever.'

 

But if she wasn't lying, then cool, because Weaver was right - sprains and tears needed RICE to treat, one of which was missing. Maybe once they got to the cave, the mare could take a load off and rest up her leg while he or Weaver tried to locate some water. Cold water and a rag weren't exactly an equivalent to ice, but it would probably be the best they'd be able to do. 

 

Unless a cool filled with ice and beer washed up onto the shore - which, given everything that had happened so far, probably wouldn't be all that farfetched.

 

Before Inkbrand could voice any of his thoughts however, Foxed Glove was speaking up again, and woah.

 

What. 

 

The.

 

The tattoo-clad stallion stared at the white mare for a good couple of seconds, surprise and a bit of incredibility at the...what sounded like blatant flirting in the other's tone. Not that he minded, buck no - he was the bucking champ at blatant flirting, after all - but after the shock of getting caught in a trap and mixture of anger and annoyance at its existence the white mare had displayed, the attempt at subtle coy eyes seemed kind of...random? That, or she was just that bucking good at shrugging off her more negative feelings to settle back into a sense of normalcy. 

 

Which was bucking fine by him. Though it would probably make things a bit awkward for Weaver, if he was gunning for the mare. 

 

"Well thanks, sweetheart," Inkbrand countered, with no trace of the subtly Foxed Glove had been attempting, because who the buck cared, really, "I'll be sure to return the favor." In reality, of course, watching for traps meant staring at the ground rather than the flank in front of him, but the point remained. 

 

A point that was quickly followed up by yet another random turn of conversation, causing Inkbrand's ears to swivel slightly at the abrupt change. "No-pe" Inkbrand answered, emphasizing the ending with a slight pop! of his lips, "you've really got to use the whole name to appreciate all of this." A sweeping hoof took in his entire body, confident swagger belied slightly by the teasing wink he shot Weaver, before turning back to the white mare expectantly, assuming she had a nickname of her own she wanted to share.

 

Or something.

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

 

 

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Well, that was an interesting response. Not a hint of subtlety in this stallion she supposed... than again he had a certain charm about him. Foxglove back in school did have a bit of  reputation for going out with the more rough and tumble, types with a swagger in their step. Maybe it was the confidence, maybe it was the good looks, maybe they caught her just at the right time, but it never really lasted long. She got a feeling that he wasn't the type to push a deeper relationship on someone who wasn't looking for one... and at this point Foxglove wasn't looking for anything serious; she had a job as a writer for a series that was doing ludicrously well. The price for her inspiration for her writing always seemed to be continued stress with her... hunts and if stallions like inkbrand were good at one thing (well beyond their obvious talents) it was relieving stress.

 

Giving Inkbrand a look almost like he was being appraised by she chuckled a bit, "I can definitely see how shortening I could take away from the overall experience." 


Lore made a good point about her leg. It did sting and make her wince with the first step she took with it... and it was still a ways to the cave and past a field with pretty tall grass, "Well it does hurt while I walk, but I'm pretty sure I'm tough enaa-ooow! ..." The mare winced visibly the second her hoof collided with a sizeable rock. "I'll just have to make an adjustment to my gait I suppose... well unless one of you is willing to carry..." The goth mare leaned a bit against a try and mimicked fanning herself with a hoof while putting on an incredibly exaggerated version of her southern drawl from earlier keeping her wounded leg up and her weight off of it..

 

"A poor, delicate, southern flower such as mahself off ta the caverns like mah own personal knight in shi-... *snicker*" The mare started chuckling a bit before getting back on the ground on three hooves, "Sorry... I can't keep doing that voice without laughing, as for nicknames I had. Hm..."

"I had the cheery gothmare in high-school, that creepy mare, also from high-school, the filly whose half ghost..." She chuckled nostalgically before looking back at the two stallions with her, "I personally preferred what my friend's called me for obvious reasons; Fox."
 

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Lore felt very awkward with the flirtation between Inkbrand and Foxglove. Sure he wasn't opposed to ponies displaying their affections, but here where there were no ponies around and they were flirting and he was watching, this could get awkward fast. After all, ponies did have to take their minds off of their plight somehow. Hopefully things won't get too interesting. 

 

His thoughts were quickly broken by the sound of Foxglove wincing yet again. 

 

"I'll just have to make an adjustment to my gait I suppose... well unless one of you is willing to carry..." 

 

Well, that was an idea, but Lore was no heavy lifter, maybe he could carry on his back the whole "Canterlot Dictionary" series, a mighty 50 pounds put together, but a mare? It might not end well for both of them.

 

"A poor, delicate, southern flower such as mahself off ta the caverns like mah own personal knight in shi-... 

 

He couldn't help but laugh, thinking of her dressed like a Southern Belle with that big poofy dress! Then he got an idea. 

 

"I got it! I know how you can walk without using your sprained leg. I'll walk next to you, and you wrap your hurt leg around my back. I'll be your fourth leg and you can balance on me. Kind of like that three-legged race. Sound like a plan?" 

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Oooh, kay, he'd been excepting like, actually nicknames, but whatever. 

 

Because The Filly Who's Half Ghost, really? That's the best Foxed Glove's school mates came up with? Sounded more like a theatrical, self-imposed title than a nickname meant to either harass or inspire affection. 

 

"Tch, those are lame," the tattoo-clad stallion clicked his tongue, tail flicking lightly from side to side, "barely roll off the tongue, so much as stumble and trip all over it." Foxed Glove sounded almost nostalgic as she spoke of them however, so maybe those names had been said in affection, some sort of inside joke, rather than an attempt to bully or put down the mare. Though even if that was the case, they were still lame. Unsurprisingly, Lore Weaver didn't have any clever names attached to hisself either - likely because the Unicorn didn't have any close friends with enough creative spark to come up with one, Inkbrand would guess. 

 

Not that he'd given any of his nicknames to either pony...but not because he didn't actually have any. Those he did were either hated, scowl-worthy nicknames given to belittle him, or names neither of the two ponies standing beside him had any right to use.

 

His inner train of thought was eventually derailed, however, as Foxed Glove attempted to get moving on her leg again - which, predictably, gave out on her halfway through a step. Inkbrand almost had it in him to roll his eyes, but honestly, he was almost at the point of beyond caring that the three of them were standing around a potentially hostile jungle talking about nicknames and things. At the very least, he had been stranded with two ponies who still held some semblance of humor, and the ivory mare's sudden impression of a classic damsel in distress was enough to illicit a sharp smile and bark of laughter from the tattoo-clad stallion, rough southern drawl or no.

 

Because how much more would this situation completely suck if there'd actually been a pony like that with them? Probably faint at the sight of her own shadow, to boot.

 

The situation of her leg came up against in short order, but before Inkbrand could so much as open his mouth, Weaver was speaking up, offering to be the ivory mare's support. The grey stallion was ninety-eight percent sure now, that the Unicorn was digging on Foxed Glove. Which was all well and good - pretty piece of flank she might be, but goth-style had never really been his thing - except Inkbrand was also equally sure that the ivory Earth Pony was into himself. All of which might provide a pretty, amusing, romp through the jungle.

 

If they ever made it off this island alive, he was going to pitch a move idea and make bucking millions.

 

"Yeah," Inkbrand drawled, facing away from Foxed Glove to shoot Lore Weaver another amused wink, "yeah, why don't you two do that. I'll lead the way." How long they'd been stuck at this spot, he really didn't know, but reaching that fabled cave was sounding better and better as the sun kept climbing upwards - or was it going downwards, now? Either way, standing around talking was going to provide them a shelter any faster, and trusting Weaver to the task he'd so heroically leapt upon, Inkbrand began leading the trek into the jungle again.

 

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  • 5 months later...

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Nope, standing around and talking still wasn't getting them any closer to that cave.

 

Though in hindsight, maybe that had all been some part of an epic, cosmic plan, because any further inland, and he might not have been able to hear it.


"...You guys hear that?" Inkbrand demanded, ears cocked behind him as quickly followed by the rest of his head as the grey stallion stared back the way they had come. He needn't have bothered though, because the sound came again, closer, louder - a very clearly sounding horn. From a boat. A boat horn. Inkbrand stood stock still for a moment longer, simply unwilling to believe in the good fortune that had apparently come sailing straight up their tails, before abruptly letting loose a loud cheer, jumping a foot straight off the ground in sheer amazement. 

 

"Holy buck, we won't have to fight each other over water!" the grey stallion exclaimed, and never mind any strange looks he got from the other two, he was already tearing through the bush, excitement mounting with every step. "C'mon, what the buck are you two waiting for!" he yelled over his shoulder - and oh yeah, hurt hoof. Oh well - he could get to the shore and at least make sure to flag down the ship, and that's exactly what Inkbrand did as he burst from the undergrowth, relief spilling over at the beautiful bucking sight of a liner just off the coast. And what was more, there were already life boats making their way towards the shore, apparently having spotting the wreckage along the beach - and also the grey stallion jumping and waving his hooves like a mad pony. 

 

"Bucking vacation my flank," the tattoo-clad stallion sighed, flopping down in the sand as he waited for the other two to enjoy this moment of rescuing, "next time I need a vacation, she can take it for me." 

 

[[ Exit ]]

 

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