Take a Stand: Bufogren in the Bog

“I love perfumes as much as the next stallion worth his saltlick, but don’t you think this is, to be polite, overwhelming?” Gold Standard asked as Brave Storm covered their coats in mint extract. 

While they set into the Everfree Forest’s swamp almost immediately after their partnership to grab cragadile eggshells, Brave Storm took a day to prepare for the bog’s expedition. She met Gold Standard at their agreed rendezvous point with a loaded saddlebag, a shaved down coat that trimmed away her belly fur and made her legs look like bell bottoms, and the mint extract that she was currently using to make her tail particularly fragrant.

“You remember the timberwolves getting to the cragadile nest? And the timberwolves running away from the cragadile mother? Annoying as they were to keep fighting off, at least they’re an easy target to hit.” Brave Storm explains and is stopped by Gold Standard as she moves in to put even more mint on him. “The Bog’s timberwolves are bugs. Swat and kill as many bugs as you want, you’re not killing enough to avoid being a buffet for mosquitos. They hate the smell of mint. And the alternative to keeping them off you is rolling in mud.”

Gold Standard sucks his teeth, and he reluctantly allows Brave Storm to keep over-scenting his coat. 

 

“So, Brave Storm,” Gold Standard begins, grunting at the few stubborn flies that persisted through the mint scent and flew around his nose, “as a zebra, what do you think of Wild Magic?”

“What does me being a zebra have to do with anything?” Brave Storm asks in return, stepping high as she wades through the bog water. 

“You don’t know? Golden Sage mentioned the folklore surrounding ponies using ‘Natural’ Magic.” Gold Standard hinted, taking Brave Storm’s lack of a reaction as a queue to continue. “There’s Ponyville folklore of a zebra who once lived in the Everfree Forest. She was a shaman, brewed potions, and had a lot of wisdom. Figured maybe you’d have a lead on it.”

“I’m not even sure if I am a zebra.” Brave Storm sighed. “I could direct you to a zebra who knows she’s a zebra if you want a zebra opinion.”

“Well the only zebra mare I see right now is you.”

“Zebra’s not a word anymore,” she remarks, drifting her eyes to the sky and away from the interrogating Gold Standard.

“You’re dodging the question!” he remarks with a laugh in his voice.

“Because that’s a very complicated question that you asked me.” the mare defends, a challenging smile finding its way onto her face. “Why don’t you start if it’s so easy?”

“Deal. An opinion for an opinion. A thought for thought.” he agreed with a satisfied nod.

“Was that your game the whole time?” Brave Storm asked, playfully rolling her eyes.

“It’s a game I like to think I’m good at.” the stallion answers proudly. “I live in Canterlot, so my exposure to Wild Magic is secondhoof. Wild Magic refugees will often opt to live within Canterlot over Ponyville. They’re obviously traumatized from the effects of these surges. I won’t lie, I don’t have a strong opinion either way on Wild Magic because of it. I’m forming them as I go.”

“I’m not sure if I’m a zebra or if I just look like a zebra because of the Wild Magic surges.” Brave Storm answers after contemplation. She stops their expedition for a moment of rest and lays down a tarp so that they can enjoy a meal on something at least a little waterproof.

“You’re a refugee. An orphan?” Golden Standard picks up. He takes the apple offered to him and slowly chews as he listens to the zebra open up.

“It’s safe to assume my biological parents are… dead, yes. But I was a very lucky foal to have had a family willing to take me in. As the years go by, there’s more orphaned foals and less room in families.” Brave Storm pushes an orange around the tarp. “This wouldn’t have happened if these Wild Magic surges didn’t happen.”

“But…?” The stallion pushes.

“But since Moon Widow, I’ve been thinking. It gave a higher level of thinking to a creature that didn’t have it before. She did horrible things to those ponies in Sumit’s Hallow, but what if Wild Magic didn’t make her evil? What if she was already a particularly mean star spider?” Brave Storm wonders out loud. “Which is why I’m interested in talking to the Bufogren. Maybe it can give us some insight as to why Moon Widow turned out the way she did. And maybe Wild Magic isn’t inherently bad, maybe all we see are the bad things.”

“That is very insightful. Do you have anything else to share?”

“Do you?” Brave Storm asks cheekily as she finally peels her orange.

 

“We’re getting close.” Brave Storm wretches as the air became pungent.

“Please refrain from gagging. I’ll puke, and I don’t like the way that feels.” Gold Standard requested, desperately reaching into Brave Storm’s saddlebags to retrieve her mint oil. Dousing cloths in the extract, he stuffed his and her nostrils with the rags. It helped, but the horrible odor had a taste that lingered on their tongues. As they wandered into the putrid smell, the air became even hotter and more unbearable to the thick-coated mare.

“Where is it?” Brave Storm lashed. The bog immediately began to swell at her raised voice. The water reached high above the heads of ponies before the tension finally broke and washed down rapidly. Before them, stood a giant banana-yellow frog-like creature with ten ruby-red eyes and six comparatively stubby legs. From its mouth drooled a thick black mucus. It brought a clawed finger to its lips before releasing a loud shush towards Brave Storm, and with it a wave of rank odor.

“Found it.” Gold Standard wheezed. “I’ll try to talk to it.”

Gold Standard approached the Bofugren, who was already covering what Brave Storm could only assume were its ears. After making sure he had the creature’s attention, he began a slow series of gestures utilizing his hooves, ears, tail, and head. The Bofugren simply turned its head in confusion. Brave Storm watched Gold Standard repeat the gestures, going even slower and mouthing the meaning of what he was saying.

“WHAT?” boomed something in their heads that instantly knocked Gold Standard and Brave Storm to their knees. 

“What was that?” Brave Storm asks herself as she brings her hooves to her pounding head. 

“Sorry. I’m still getting used to this.” the voice entered her head again, but significantly quieter. “My hearing got more sensitive one day and I couldn’t talk without hurting my own ears. I learned to put my words directly into other creatures’ ears without having to make noise.”

The Bufogren looked pleased after the thought finished and all of its arms were on the ground. It looked between the two ponies and the thoughts continued, “What brings you two here?”

The frog-like creature watches Gold Standard continue his gestures with interest. After a certain series of movements were performed, its ten eyes curled in concern.

“Wild Magic influence? Is that bad?” the voice penetrated Brave Storm’s thoughts again. Seems as though she’s going to be privy only to one-half of this conversation. Another series of gestures later and the Bufogren looks relieved. The next bit of whatever Gold Standard wanted to communicate took a while and by the end of it, the Bufogren scratched the corner of its mouth and got some of its odd slime on a claw.

“How would my mucus help?” the voice finally spoke up again. Gold Standard shrugged and looked to Brave Storm to keep over. She opened her mouth to speak, but the stallion stopped her and tapped his hoof to his temple. 

“Well, it’s a consistent thing that every Bufogren produces. And by studying how your slime differs from other Bufogrens under the influence of Wild Magic, we can figure out what it’s doing to change your biology.” Brave Storm offered. “Maybe we can find out if Wild Magic affects every creature of the same type the same way. Or if every change is different from creature to creature.”

The Bufogren nods thoughtfully for a little bit, rubbing its slimy chin. Eventually, it turns back to Brave Storm. “Other pony said you had a question for me?”

“I do?” Brave Storm thought, forgetting that the creature was currently able to read her thoughts. “Oh yea, I was specifically interested in talking to you. You were capable of speech before your change. Have you noticed anything different about you?”

“Well, I have more eyes. I have more arms. My hearing got more sensitive and sometimes even my own thoughts hurt.” 

“Anything about your emotions? Or your thoughts? Have you been in general pain or mad or anything?”

“No? Why would I be mad?” it asked, tilting its head.

“It’s a long story. But all of these questions are things we’re trying to find answers to.” Brave Storm reminded it. “So would you be willing to let us take home a sample of your mucus?”

The Bufogren thinks for a moment more before nodding. It lowers its head down while Brave Storm and Gold Standard braved its stench for science.

 

“I am glad that’s all over with!” Gold Standard declared once they were safely out of the bog. “I never want to see mud or smell mint again.”