Chapter 1: Aiding the Injured
“Ow, ow!” cried a pink pegasus as Witching Hour set her dislocated wing back into place. The initial raid had injured several, but the continued fighting had made it challenging to help treat these ponies. Witching Hour and Harvest Moon had been doing their best to perform first aid for the time being.
“Sorry.” Witching Hour apologized, stepping back to allow the pegasus to test the wing’s range of motion.
“Thanks, Witching.” she sighed as her once immobile wing was now only painful to put into certain positions. At least she didn’t have to drag it on the ground anymore. Her other wing was tightly split and bound to her torso.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?” Witching Hour asks.
“No, I’m good.” the pegasus answers, her feathered ears fluffing with her thankful smile.
Witching Hour hardly had a moment to catch her breath when she heard the prelude to Harvest Moon’s teleportation spell. Standing clear, she watched as the unicorn poofed into existence carrying along a frazzled-looking pegasus.
“Hey, what’d you do that for?” the candy-colored pegasus demanded, stomping his hoof. “I basically had him on the run!”
“No, you didn’t, Konpeito.” sighed the pink pegasus.
Konpeito pouted. Or maybe he didn’t. It was hard to tell with one side of his face being so swollen. His thick, curly mane and tail were standing on end, reminding Witching Hour of the glam rock bands she grew up listening to. Dancing between the hairs on his body were sparks of electricity.
“What happened to you?” Witching Hour asked as Harvest Moon disappeared into their hut.
“Hey, look. They attacked first!” Konpeito immediately jumped into defending himself and quite notably, not answering the bat pony’s question. He was particularly animated, but maybe that had less to do with his personality and more to do with the extra bit of energy running through him. It could go either way from the small bit of large personality Witching Hour was managing to glean from him.
“Right, sure. You were just defending yourself.” Witching Hour started, trying to coax the answer she wanted out of him.
“Yes, ‘xactly!” Konpeito nods. “So I say we fight the bastards-”
“Language!” Witching Hour interrupts.
“Sorry, G-ma. So I say we fight ‘em. They come into Ponyville looking for trouble, well they found trouble.”
“So I go chargin’ out at the nearest one. Some zappy pegasus mare. Well, she goes and kicks me right in the face. Zap! Got hit with the hoof and she releases some ‘tricity with the kick. It was ‘solutely wild! But I fought back. Chomp!” he bites, showing off his sharp teeth. “I get her around her leg. Dame basically cheated though! Zapped me through her ankles!”
“Uh-huh.” Witching Hour nodded and then gestured for him to sit on the cot in front of her. “So you got kicked in the face and shocked a couple of times.”
“Well, if you just ignore all the deets, yeah.” Konpeito rolls his eyes. “I don’ need help. Thanks though, G-ma.”
As Konpeito began to walk away, Harvest Moon came cheerily back from out of their hut. The unicorn was carrying a large pot filled with a creamy and pleasant-smelling paste.
“It’s ready!” she calls, bringing the batch over to Witching Hour.
“What’s ready?” Konpeito asks.
“Your ointment! It’ll help with the swelling and help pull that extra electricity out of your system.” the unicorn explains, clapping her hooves together excitedly.
“Yea? Well…, since you put all that extra effort in fer me, I guess it’d be rude if I just walked off.” Konpeito grumbled, making his way over to the cot Witching Hour gestured to. “I mean, I don’t want to hurt an old mare’s feelings and stuff, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Witching Hour mumbled, positioning the pot carefully and holding it steady. “Ready to try for yourself, Penelope?”
The opossum she recently adopted shuffled its way out of her curly hair and made its way down the mare’s foreleg and onto the rim of the pot.
“Hey, hey! What’s that?” Konpeito nearly screamed, jolting backward at the sudden marsupial.
“Penelope.” Witching Hour introduced her as if that explained anything.
“Yeah, okay. Penelope. Whatever.” Konpeito attempted to save face.
Penelope scooped a large globby handful of the paste in her hand and scuttled up to Konpeito. He flinched but held still afterward as the opossum spread the soothing ointment across his face. Penelope finished her task and ran off to wash off her hands in a nearby stream.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Penelope.” Konpeito mumbled as he was dismissed by Witching Hour. He was fine enough to help himself now.