Prompt: Daring Greenery

His name was Snap-Crisp Night Air- Iris Blossom Scent, but I didn't know that for many years. At first, he was just another monster of the Everfree, but I was also pretty monstrous, thank Celstia.

I'm sorry I phrased that poorly. I mean to say if I had been a better pony, I probably wouldn't have been cutting through the Everfree with stolen goods and untrustworthy companions. Ironically, this wasn't supposed to be the dangerous part of the trip. Stealing the Shoeforth collection from the Vanhoover Museum of Antiquity and dodging the law was hypothetically the hard part, but I didn't see Cold Iron's decision coming. One quick push while I was scouting the terrain, and I thought I was done for. I survived the fall due to mixture of luck and stubbornness, but I found myself at the bottom of a ravine with a sprained hoof and no way back up without full use of my limbs. Luckily, there was a small stream, so I knew survival was possible. The tree cover and underbrush hugging the stream and gripping the sheer sides cast odd dappled shadows.

I still remember the smell first, a tang of tar with an overlay of sweet florals. I briefly thought I had broken a bottle in my satchel, but then it appeared out of the shadows downstream. Standing twice my height, it craned its neck forward as it crept forward. I had seen larger Timberwolves, but never this close, never by myself. It worked its massive jaw, snapping at the air. I froze, my mind taking a final snapshot before the end. In that moment, I could appreciate the small oddities. This creature wasn't just composed of the natural wood, vines, and stone, but also wooden struts, broken packing crates, and rope. While I was curious, I just accepted this was the end and closed my eyes and awaited the sharp pain of those jagged planks. A heartbeat later I found myself hoisted up of the ground by my satchel and gently shaken till it slipped off dropping me to the ground. It ate the contents, some old knickknacks, some wallets (mine and from others), a few letters and journals from the collection. It then stared at me and coughed up a small gem. It was an August Amethyst, worth much more than anything in that pack. I took it with relish and it motioned downstream and melded back into the shadows.

To be honest, my next actions were not out of charity and dealing with monsters of the Everfree is of course prohibited without express permission of the crown. But the chance to trade with a Timberwolf that didn't understand the worth of goods was too much for me to give up. I would bring it trinkets at first, but quickly figured out it liked older materials and old books. It kept delivering valuable stones, rare flora, and scavenged goods from the forest. It took years, but soon I was able to accompany it to look for valuable goods. It showed no fear of anything: ravines, monsters, or me. Except twice, once it refused to cross a raging river and second it refused to go near the border near the desert. In retrospect, it makes sense they can reform from scraps, but the river disperses them and the barrenness of the desert deprives them. Although, I can't say we had long conversations, we eventually managed some crude gestures and long companionable silences especially under the cool night sky.

After years of, to be frank, exploiting him. He finally decided he wanted something. It took a bit of guesswork and a few trips to town to acquire maps, but eventually I understood. He wanted to risk the desert; he wanted me to accompany him; and he wanted to go soon. If you had asked me at the time I would have said I agreed out of a sense of curiosity or hint of profit, but I will admit to you now, I wanted to help my friend.

I packed a wagon to hide him from other ponies and bison, and plenty of provisions for me and scrap for him. I looped one of his coils of rope across my barrel, and he acted as guide. We left civilization almost immediately. We found odd rock formations and strange holes dotting the landscape. We fought the frilled burrowlizards for two days and nights. When a flame hawk attacked the wagon, I used the remainder of my water to put out the fire. When the thirst became too great, he dragged me to an oasis. I lost 20 pounds on the journey and he lost half his body weight, but he wouldn't stop. I couldn't let his dream die, even if I did not understand it.

After a month and a half of hard travel, his guidance had gone from strong tugs to delicate nudges. At last, he desperately pulled my to a dried creek bed. He pulled hard enough to break some of the splices I hade already. One broken piece of driftwood began to dig the packed earth, then a strut, then a broken barrel began to move the debris. I scrapped away with my hooves and even my teeth. After an hour, we uncovered a carved artifact with runic script. I showed it to the wagon, but nothing was moved.

I put everything I could back in the wagon and sprinted back to the cool safety of the Everfree. My knees are shot, and there are parts of my hide that will always be bare, but I Luna damned tried. Even if I had teleported, it wouldn't have been fast enough.

And now I am here, Princess. I am loaning you the Castanoxylon Communicatum. It is still weak, so only affects a few square miles. But while here, she can speak. Please accept my adopted child, Whispered Breeze-Autumn's Dapped Sunlight-Tar and Canvas to your school of friendship.