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A Matter of Perspective · FiM Short Story ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 2000–8000
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Hungry
I am hungry.

It is not a complaint, nor an announcement to any party outside my own mind; it is a statement of fact.

I am hungry, and I have to eat.

The noises of the forest try to drown out this proclamation. The birds all chirp, the insects all call out, and the other members of my pack howl to the midnight moon in unison. The resulting cacophony pierces my ears. Fighting each other for dominance, while also working together to rip my attention away from the current predicament. It is an unbearable set of noises, equally obnoxious as it is distracting. It almost succeeds in its machinations.

Almost.

The grumblings within my stomach are beyond their power to drown.They reverberate throughout my body, sending a desperate signal for some form of sustenance. They have remained unanswered for the past 2 weeks, yet they have not ceased. In fact, they seem to have increased in strength and frequency.

I will answer them today.

I stand up slowly, careful to not disturb the foliage I had laid down upon. The need for discretion was most likely unneeded after the pack’s loud howling a moment ago. But caution was something that our pack leader urged all of us to have an abundance of. For good reason, too; we had lost no more than 3 members of our pack ever since Jumble had become the alpha.

I made my way out of the shrubbery and into the small clearing nearby. All around, the pack lounged about, either talking to others or looking up at the Moon as Her light shone down on us. How brilliant She looked tonight! Not an area of darkness shrouded Her face, and no clouds obstructed Her view of Her dominion. She could look down at us and smile, knowing how well we respected Her and kept to Her Proclamations, like all generations of Timberwolves had since the beginning of time.

The grumblings reared their head again, distracting my mind from all of Her glory. Curses! Not even She Who Wanes and Waxes can divert my attention from these hunger pains! I cannot stand for this any longer! I set off toward the center of the clearing, where Jumble sat. As I approached him, I could see that his attention was on the Moon. He gazed up at Her in awe, transfixed by Her beauty like most of us were.

“Jumble,” I announced.

He turned his head toward me and nodded.

“Bundle.”

“A glorious night, is it not?”

“Indeed.” His face returned to Her, the awe more restrained now that he knew a member of his pack was looking.

“Jumble, how much longer until the food comes?”

“I know not. Only She knows when the Prey will make themselves known to us.”

“Of course. But…”

He looked back at me.

“But?”

“Don’t you think She would have given us food by now? Wouldn’t She want to cease Her Children’s suffering?”

“Perhaps. Maybe She is testing us, seeing if we will remain faithful to her during hardship.”

“Maybe. Or maybe we must take initiative and find the Prey ourselves.”

“Your drive is admirable, Bundle,” he said shaking his head. “But you ask us to dismiss Her traditions in the name of your own selfish desires?”

“How can you accuse me of such things?! You know as well as I do that I hold Her traditions high above anything else!”

“Yet you ask to flagrently disobey the Fifth Proclamation?”

“How? I’m just asking that we consider other options in case-”

“In case what?” The words came out of Rumble’s mouth disdainfully. “What are you trying to say, Bundle? Are you claiming She will not aid us?”

“Of course not! I know that she’ll take care of in times of plenty or of little!”

“And yet you still stand here, blatantly calling for me to disregard Her Proclamations like they were mere guidelines!”

“I am not! I am just-”

“Enough,” he said with a wave of his paw. “I’m ending this discussion before you dig yourself an even deeper hole. The Fifth Proclamation states: ‘Find a Clear Place at every Summer Solstice and wait; a Feast will be delivered to you.’”

“But-”

“The Sixth Proclamation states: ‘Do not depart from the Clear Place until you have Received the Feast; Disobedience of this Proclamation will destroy all those who disobey it.”

“You’re not-”

“Bundle.” His eyes shone in the moonlight, glaring down at me. “It is beyond discussion. Drop the subject and be patient.”

“Fine.” I turned away and began to storm back to my resting spot.

“Bundle!” I heard him call. I stopped and turned to look back at him. “Don’t ever let me hear you questioning Her ever again.” The rest of the pack stared at him, then turned their gaze to me. Their expressions ranged from surprised to scornful. I eventually set my eyes forward and made my way back to my resting spot, far away from their prying eyes.

How could Jumble be so bull-headed? Doesn’t he know that we have to head further south to get food? The Moon may provide, but She does not just toss food our way. Never has, and She never will. In fact, that was the 3rd Proclamation: “Do not fear to ask Me for what you need; But do not fear to take what you can get yourself.” For such a traditionalist, Rumble seems awfully rusty about his Proclamations.

My inner complaints continued for what seemed like an eternity, but eventually I reached the resting spot. After I circled the spot a few times, I settled down into the soft grass. Sleep would not come to me for some time. The night was young and some hours remained before dawn came.

So I just sat there, looking out at the pack and the forest. Their noises continued well into the night, as did the rumblings in my stomach. One of them bothered me more than the other.




I don’t recall how much time passed after Rumble and I had argued. It was a few nights, but I cannot say how many. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.

After all, Rumble died yesterday. He joined the six others who have gone to Her dominion over the past few days. All of them died crying out for food.

A great argument has sprung up among the pack about what to do with the bodies. Some believe that we should leave this place, stating that the smell of the rotting tree sap that is seeping from their carcasses has become too much. Others refuse this suggestion, stating that the Sixth Proclamation must be followed without exception. A few suggested burning the bodies for a proper burial, but Timber, the only Fire Maker of the pack, is one of the dead 7.

Their arguments are meaningless to me. The only sound that matters to me are the rumblings. They flow through my ears, begging me for food. Their intensity has even grown to the point that my whole body shakes when they make themselves known.

I can stand it no longer. Tonight, I leave this place. This forest is large and vast, but far from empty. I am bound to find food if I wander far enough.




“Don’t go!” they had cried.

“Lone wolves never survive long!

“Stay here!”

“Follow the Sixth Proclamation!”

Their words were strong and concerned, but to no avail. The rumblings in my stomach had grown too loud and too often for me to care. I made my way into the Forest, out of that Place where 7 of my fellow packmates would eternally rest. And by their current attitudes, the other 5 would soon meet a similar fate.

Not me.

No, I will survive. I will not submit to a system of rules that existed long before I was born. A system of superstition made to please a figure that had abandoned us, if She had even existed at all. Let the fools back there suffer and die! They’d rather submit to the intangible than save themselves of the most basic danger any living being can suffer from. What cretins!

I stare back up at the Moon, its face still shining as brightly as it has for days now. But no longer did it seem like a god, a precious Mother that took care of its young with a cool embrace. No, now it was just...just…

A thing. A giant, white thing up in the sky. It did not gaze down at me in bewilderment, love, or contempt. It didn’t even look at me with indifference. It just sat there up in the sky, like it had for as long as any Timberwolf could remember. No feeling manifested within it, for it did not manifest anything. Not now, not ever.

Nothing but light.




I walked for 3 nights, stopping only when the day began. Though many creatures could be heard throughout the woods, I was unable to catch anything substantial. My large figure and loud walking alerted every animal nearby to my presence, making hunting far more difficult than it would normally be. A few woodland bunnies and squirrels managed to make their way to my mouth, but they did little to assuage my hunger. No, I needed something bigger. Tastier.

Like a pony.

Pony...pony...pony…

Pony! That’s the smell of a pony I’m sniffing!

Aha! Just the scent I've been waiting to smell!

Summoning all the primal instinct that my forefathers had gifted me, I closed my eyes and took a gigantic whiff. The smell flowed into my nostrils, triggering every receptor my wooden body managed to contain. Oh, how wonderful a scent it was! Even the growling in my stomach had to stop, overtaken by the glorious smell.

I walked forward, eyes still shut tight. I did not want any of my other senses to distract me from my feast. So straight ahead I strode, nose high in the air. I walked and walked, miles upon miles with this technique. The smell grew stronger and stronger, eventually drowning out all other of the odors given off by the surrounding forest.

After some time, I stopped. There were no longer any cracks or snaps sounding below me. No more leaves or sticks were under me.
That meant...I was out of the forest!

Opening my eyes, I was greeted by a brilliant sight. The daytime was upon me, shining down in a wonderful display. All around me, a meadow of yellow daisies grew, their scent beginning to flow into my nose now that I was no longer focused. Looking behind me, I could see the forest a long ways behind me. Even from here, I could see the darkness emanating from it. But around me, nothing but beauty could be seen.

“AAAIIIIIIEEEEEE!”

I turned toward the noise and saw it.

My prey.

A white pony with purple hair stood there in the meadow, gaping and pointing at me in terror.

Excellent. Terror always makes it easier to catch the prey.

I lunged toward the pony, my teeth bared and my heart pumping in anticipation. The distance was at least 100 feet, but I was half that distance in less than 3 seconds.

The pony’s eyes grew wider as I drew closer. It turned, starting to run. After 5 steps, however, it fell flat on its face.

My body shook in anticipation as I came closer to the equine. I was so close that I could smell all the individual scents on its body (actually, her body; the pheromones coming off of her were most obviously that of a female). What they were was a mystery to me. I’d think that they were meant to be some sort of scent maskers, but if that was the case, they were failing miserably.

Now, I was a matter of feet from her. She has given up running now, instead choosing to cower in fear. How wonderful! A prey not only so delectable, but also dumbfoundedly simple to catch! Oh, how well I shall eat now! No more long chases of wood deer or tree bison! Now, I shall-

BLAM!

A force of tremendous power hit my side, sending me tumbling to the side. A howl of pain escaped my lips as I rolled through the flowers.

“Ya-hoo!” a strange voice cried out. It was feminine by the sounds of it, coming out with an odd accent and language I could not place. I looked back toward the pony I had been chasing. She remained where she had been, but no longer did she cower. Now, she stood tall, a proud expression upon her face.

“Danks, Runbew Desh!” she called out in that strange tongue. I looked around, eyes bounding this way and that for the mysterious force that had knocked me over. But no matter where I looked, no figure could be seen except the lone pony.

Well, no matter. I bet it was just-

BLAM!

I fell to the ground once more. The flowers softened my fall, but on my left side, nothing but pain could be felt. A quick glance revealed to me that my entire left side was cracked from the shoulder to my rear legs.

“Guud jeb, Eppl Jak!” another voice called out.

Eppl Jak? Runbew Desh? These were odd names.

Wait...could it be?

Oh no… No, it couldn’t be!

But...it was! It was the only explanation!

This pony was protected by spirits!

I quickly got to my feet despite the pain. I had to get out of here. I had to escape the wrath of the spirits before-

BLAM!

I could hear my head splinter as the force came down upon me. In an instant, my right eye was gone and the bottom part of my mouth fell right off in splinters. I stumbled to the ground, dazed beyond all belief.

“Nod su fest, tuff gey!” My remaining eye wandered toward the source of the noise.

And there, floating above me, was a pony. At least, it looked like a pony. But it flew! With wings on its sides! How...how is that possible? Only birds could fly! Ponies can’t-

“Wazzamatta, gurls?” another female voice called out on my right side.

“Nudding, Twy Liite! Jus ta tym ba woolf tryna snak un Raar Ity!”

“Snak?! Dat beest neerlee gabboled mee hol!”

Their strange language continued to barrage my ears. No doubt about it, they were discussing my fate. I tried to stand up, but my cracked side made the attempt agonizing. I gave up and flopped back down on the ground.

I was completely immobile and at their mercy.

“Beest feenish id of beefore id reeforms eetself.”

“Gud eye deea!”

Maybe they’ll take mercy on me. We may not speak the same language, but maybe they’d-

BLAM!

Ow! What’re they-

BLAM!

Ow! Stop!

BLAM!

Please! Stop! I-

BLAM!

I can’t bear the pain!

BLAM!

The pain! It’s horrible!

BLAM!

Please, for the love of-

BLAM!

Oh Mother, forgive me!

BLAM!

I’m sorry, Mother!

BLAM!

I didn’t mean to break the Proc-

BLAM!

I was desperate and hungry!

BLAM!

Please forgive me, Mother!

BLAM!

I promise you that I’ll-

CRUNCH!



Rumble felt nothing after this. For where Rumble had once laid, now only a small woodpile sat. And it would sit there for the rest of the day, right next to 6 little ponies who went along with their previously planned picnic for the day.

By all accounts, it was a very nice affair.
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