“Inculcation”
“Part 10, Imposition”
Author: It_that_watches
The engine under the hood of Matthew’s old silver pickup roared like a waking dragon as the pedal depressed to its maximum. The gates of the facility had barely opened enough for it to fit through when he had reached them. If not for failing tire traction caused by the pooling rain, he might have arrived too soon and torn open the side of his vehicle on the still opening gate.
But he didn’t, and he hadn’t.
He accelerated down the company drive and into the dying light of the setting sun and found himself confronted by the wrathful beauty of nature. Rays of dusk shattered into a blinding field of a million glittering diamonds as the heavy rain refracted and distorted every possible thing that could be considered vision.
He was flying blind, and he was flying fast.
Hopefully not too blind, and hopefully not too fast.
Twilight bowed her wings over her head to shield fluffies from the torrential rain as she guided them towards her makeshift shelters. They were scared. They were crying. They were helpless.
They were her responsibility.
Pain resonated down her side as wind and rain tore into the open wound on her side. Tree branches were coming down left and right, creating blockades in the yard and incapacitating fluffies that had been trapped under them. She could shrug them off, and she figured her subjects could.
She couldn’t hear anything but the screaming wind, but she could see the look of terror on Strawberry’s face as the world drew darker. She didn’t even need to follow the little pink mare’s hoof pointing to the falling tree.
Adrenaline thundered through her veins and her throat burned as her breathing deepened. For the barest moment it was as if she could see everything.
The speeding raindrops blurred into strings of light as a flash of lightning illuminated the world.
To her right ran a channel of water with several dead foals flowing down it, propelled by the runoff from the pouring rain. There was a fluffy midway through tripping forward into the miniature river as it tried to pluck its drowning progeny from the rushing water.
To the left of her was a line of fluffies walking in single file, their fluff was slicked back and soaked- all their colors seeming to bleed together in the overwhelming yet quickly fading light. They were no match for the violence of the storm, and their procession was beginning to collapse as the fluffy at the front tumbled backwards.
Ahead of her was her goal.
A large blue tarp held down by haphazardly placed pieces of wood. Most of her fluffies were huddled inside it as it fluttered in the lashing rain, some had made it to the “big-toy castle” that the noble fluffies lived in. This was the first time that peasant fluffies had been allowed inside. There were more fluffies for sure, but she could only save so many of them. She could only hope that they could find hiding places of their own-
In the miniature playhouse, the woodpiles, the stoop where she held court. Anywhere they could hide.
Anywhere safer than being exposed to the open sky.
But what terrified her most was what was above her.
Mother nature had come to cull. Now was the time to cut wheat from chaff and pull up the weeds.
A yearling tree, roots half torn up, slowly fell towards the ground where her subjects lay huddled beneath the tarp. It would crush them. If they didn’t die from the impact, they’d suffer an even more painful death pinned beneath it. Drowning in their own blood from internal injuries, or from being smushed together under one another’s soaked fluff.
Who was she to challenge natural selection?
…
…
…
She was Twilight Winston.
She was proof enough that natural selection could be cast aside.
The fluffies, no- HER fluffies, were in danger!
They were making so much progress, they were doing so well for her, she wasn’t going to let some stupid storm end it all- she wasn’t going to just lie down and let all these little lives that trusted her to keep them safe be snuffed out!
She screamed with all her might and leapt upwards towards the falling foliage. The crashing and rustling were deafening. The impact on her head left every sense of hers reeling to recover. Her vision swarmed with dancing black dots as her head rang like a glass bell. She nearly threw up from the sudden debilitating nausea that enveloped her. The bending tree-trunk slid suddenly sideways and smashed down on her shoulder, leaving her skeleton rattling within her body. Every muscle ached from the strain of just staying upright.
And then her legs gave out.
With her last wavering wisp of strength, she threw herself forward and caught as many branches as she could with her body, in an attempt to slow its fall. She could feel her skin bared against the elements as countless tiny lacerations were exchanged for every broken branch.
But the tree flexed further, threatening her fluffies still.
Twilight screamed as hard as she could, a warcry against the sky, and pressed further forward. An entropic explosion of light blasted through the rushing leaves- Twilight’s horn flickering and strobing as every possible emotion filled her mind. The tree began to slow its descent. The fluffies she’d been protecting looked up at her in awe as she stood against the tide defiantly, to give them a fighting chance.
They stared, unbelieving into the oscillating colors that had suddenly appeared.
Twilight’s outburst turned the immediate area into a simula of liquid gemstones, sparkling streaks of every possible color hammering down into the tarp and surrounding sod.
A thicker branch halfway down the tree had at some point snapped, and pierced into her right side.
The fluffies looked up at their princess as the lightshow died and beheld in silent terror the blood that had began to flow down her abdomen, the droplets mixing into the pooling rainwater. Her hasty pact with our angry mother, sealed.
The Earth had accepted her trade.
Her blood, for theirs.
She had plenty of it to spare, she’d have figured… were she still conscious.
She collapsed sideways, pivoting the tree with, and onto her.
Pressing her to the damp lawn.
Into mother’s embrace.
Both Briar and Celestia looked in awestruck horror as the screaming sky brought a tree crashing down upon Twilight. Celestia saw her sister disappear under the mass of leaves and splintered branches, and Briar in a way saw the same. She saw the only creature that had ever shown her a shred of curious affection vanish in an instant. The colors died.
They both stood atop the couch, looking out the large pane window to the backyard, as the situation unfolded in a flash. They couldn’t decide if the moment before them were taking an æon, or was it over in an instant? Was the chill gripping their throats really that cold, as to freeze time itself?
…
Of course, it wasn’t, but what they had seen was just enough to paralyze their volition them for the moment.
But only for just a moment.
They both set into rapid motion, trying to wrangle the situation into a state of reasonable control. Both instantly thought to call for help, but in far different ways.
Celestia thought faster, obviously, turning away from the scene and locking her eyes on the closest telephone. There was one here in the living room with her, only about five meters away. All she needed to do was get over to it, speed-dial dad, and help would be here in no time. After all, dad promised that if anything scary ever happened, if anything at all ever went wrong, she could call him for help, emotional or otherwise. Right now, though all she needed was for him to come back home and rescue Twilight- nothing else mattered.
It was going to be just like he always told her.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
She trundled clumsily off the cushions and onto the ground, slamming into the carpet with unexpected force. She stood, and she began to run.
Briar ran alongside her to her left, looking up at her with a look of concern.
Why should that little ashen puffball be worried about her? She should be worrying about Twilight. Twilight was the one that needed them right now, and so she put hoof after hoof in front of one another to do so. But she began to grow worried as well when she noted that the phone wasn’t getting any closer. The room was stretching, and she couldn’t make out the path between her and her destination.
How was that possible? It was a straight line, wasn’t it!?
Her lungs felt like they were filling with lead, and her bones dulled to concrete.
Again, her body failed her. Again, she collapsed as her atrophied heart scrambled to supply her with what thin blood she was able to produce. It wasn’t enough. Perhaps the room was flooding, and she just hadn’t noticed? She did feel so very cold… and Briar’s words warbled away as if they were underwater.
“Nu can see!! Why sky wawa su mean tu fwuffies?”
A nameless pale stallion had been separated from his herd, and in the pouring rain he’d sought somewhere stable to orient himself without sinking into the mud like what happened in the big tree place. But how was he to find his bearings? He couldn’t see in the dense fog, but he could see something that he recognized rising in the dark blue murk- the bright sky ball! The sunrise was coming, and with it, he’d be able to find his way back to his herd!
After all, this was his third long-dark cold time, and he knew the woods pretty well.
He smiled as he welcomed the approaching light.
The bright lights passed over him with incredible speed, and for a moment the rain stopped.
His head exploded as he stood up into the speeding undercarriage of Matthew’s truck, the only footnote of his existence coming to an end was a barely audible “plonk” noise.
Matthew didn’t notice.
Focused to the extreme to prevent himself from spinning out on the winding backroads and meeting his own end, he couldn’t spare a thought for the sounds coming from his aging vehicle. If it really were that important, it’d come up again. His focus was on the road, and the subtle art that is not hydroplaning while going 90 in a 35. First time for everything, right?
It hadn’t rained in a while, and the heavy downpour leeched settled oils out of the asphalt, making the already dangerous roads even more so.
Low visibility, low traction.
Black sky, black ice.
Not enough time to worry about any of it.
Thankfully there weren’t any other cars on the road.
Sure, there were a few pulled over with their hazards on- probably waiting out the squall, but he’d sped past them. They might’ve needed help, he’d thought, might’ve slid into a ditch- but that was their problem. He’d have helped if he weren’t focused on something more important.
He couldn’t lose time.
Briar’s strained nerves shattered completely when she turned the corner leading to the pony-door.
Her soft hooves had scarcely touched the kitchen floor when she saw it from the corner of her eye. Celestia crumpled into a mound, eyes blank, one wing extended, legs all fallen at odd angles. It was as if she were a marionette and a silent blade had swept through her strings, leaving her to crumple to the floor as if her feeble flame had flickered out…
But she knew that couldn’t be the case could it? What would happen if the princess… if both of the princesses were to…
Vivid images of horrible futures flashed before her eyes. A hundred painful deaths as punishment for failing to… do anything. To save them. To call for help.
To call for…
Help…
It was all she could do to hold back tears and vomit, but she did. Her head was swimming with imaginary screams, the lashing of the rain on the windows mixing into a cacophony of damning accusations.
She stumbled backwards in a tight circle, looking for threats in every shadow of the darkening room.
Mr. Winston would kill her.
She was going to die.
Unless…
She ignored the instincts that had allowed her to survive as a stray.
Because it’s…
It’s what would Twilight do.
…
…
…
The plastic device tumbled to the ground.
Her stubby little hooves clumsily battered at the buttons, after all, this was how you used it, right? She’d seen Celestia use this thing before… although this was what Mr. Winston did… Celestia just… bit it?
She looked at the glowing orange rectangle at the top, little black lines forming those undecipherable symbols that humans put on everything… Her curiosity was something that her everyone else in her life had discouraged. Her old-daddeh got angry when she questioned his rules and punished her harshly, and life as a stray had taught her that straying form the herd was the fastest way to end up dead or maimed.
But this was different.
She bit the top of the phone like she’d seen Tia do before… and nothing happened.
She tried again, and this time the phone emitted a chirping noise, and then a long, drawn-out tone.
The tone continued as she continued to operate the device. She was sure she had to bite the top.
She began to bite lower on the device. Perhaps there were more steps to follow?
A flash of lightning illumiated the room, blinding the world.
Her nubby little teeth clamped down the side of the phone as she recoiled from the light.
She dropped the phone and hiccupped in fear.
…
“booop-Beep-Boop-Booop-BEEP-Beep-BEEP-BEEP-booop-Beeep-BEEP”
…
Something was happening, and she thought to herself that that was better than nothing. She was trying her best, and Mr. Winston said that that was all anyone should ever ask of her. Her breathing slowed and tears beaded in her eyes.
“Hey Sunnybug! Everything going good? I know the storms can be scary, but if gets to be too much for you just cuddle up with Twily and your blankies, and have her get her laptop so you can watch TV together. Everything is going to be okay, alright? Hello Sweetie? Are you still there?”
…
There was a sound of thunder.
Matthew had begun to lose concentration, feeling lightheaded as the velocitation he was experiencing began to slip his mind. It was only when he noticed the sudden appearance of a third glowing digit on his speedometer that he realized how fast he was actually going.
If he slipped off the road moving like this, he’d die instantly. They’d probably need dental records to identify him… and what would happen to his girls?
Well, he didn’t keep all this stuff around for no reason.
Matthew cracked open his glovebox and grabbed for something that tumbled out. It was a pair of autoinjectors marked “HASBIO PROPRIETARY”. He grabbed both in out of midair, hesitating for only a split second as he realized he had accidentally grabbed both. The side was covered in warnings, but the only thing he looked for was the content labelling.
BIOTOY EMERGENCY REVIVAL AUTOINJECTOR
DOSAGE: .3mg EPINEPHRINE
He cracked the caps off and slammed the needles right through his work pants and into the meat of his thigh. He blinked as he released the plastic tubes, leaving them stuck in his leg. He spoke in a whisper as he let go of the syringes to grab the wheel and they swayed with the force of the truck’s motion.
“Ouch.”
Tires screamed as Matthew turned off the main road onto his shared drive. He’d never travelled this fast before, but time seemed to stretch as adrenaline both natural and synthetic coursed through his veins. His breathing quickly grew shallower, and his focused to a razor’s edge. Now he was only going 45 on a 20, which was no less safe, but no less than what occurred.
Rain slammed against his side window as he completed the turn, starting into the drive and creating a sharp spike in the rainstorm that had become the loudest white noise of his life.
It took a moment, but eventually the hist tires regained traction enough for him to speed onto the rough drive up to his house. He was almost home.
“One minute eleven seconds at 20 miles per hour… probably…”
He looked down at his speedometer, seeing the 45 on it only briefly before skidding into a more stable incident of hydroplaning than he’d expected. Still, he almost slid off the road, quickly righting himself by flooring the accelerator.
The engine roared in competition to the sky.
He tore up a hill and swung wide around a sharp corner, narrowly avoiding hitting a fallen tree bough and getting stuck in the roadside mud for a few seconds- but he had to keep going. Terrified by the rapid series of blind corners. He just kinda… hoped… none his neighbors were trying to leave- the road was only wide enough for one car after all, and a head-on would definitely slow him down, if not stop him forever. None of it mattered, the event was unlikely, and he had to get home. He had to.
Confusion and anger raged in his heart as he saw some sort of delivery truck in front of him turn off onto his private drive. His drug infused mind scanning it rapidly it for any hint of purpose as he tries to think of an appropriate solution.
“I didn’t order anything, so that can’t be a delivery truck.”
“The truck is smoothed and aerodynamic, probably meant for short journeys.”
“I cant hear an engine, so it’s probably an electric motor.”
“The license plate is obscured by rain but bears a yellow border.”
“The shape is familiar, but then again a lot of places use the same trucks.”
“The vehicle is moving slowly. It must have either valuable cargo, or a new driver.”
“The vehicle is incapable of four-wheel drive and is struggling to stay on the road.”
“The vehicle is in my way, and on my property.”
…
“I’m so close to my house, I can see the lights through the trees.”
“I will not suffer someone invading the only place I feel at home.”
“I will get home and sort out everything, it is my duty as their father.”
“My mind is made up. There is only one logical course of action.”
…
“This vehicle will be either driven off the road, or destroyed if it cannot be bypassed.”
The horn of his truck sounded out like a clarion call for this invader to vacate the road, but the best it did was ease off the brakes and continue down his drive just a tiny bit faster. It really, really, wasn’t fast enough though.
Matthew looked at his open glovebox and grabbed two more of the syringes, pocketing them as he took in every other detail.
Nope. No more things to consider. Time for action.
Matthew’s bumper collided gently with the back of the delivery truck, its familiar logo half obscured by the rain, but its implications damning. He’d deal with that later.
He pressed the accelerator to the floor of the cabin and the 4.0 V6 under the hood heeded the command of its furious master. Matthew could see the distorted reflection of a face in the backup mirror of the delivery van, but the wheels were already turning. Either this person would speed up or be driven into the ditch.
They chose the former.
Gravel was shot up behind Matthew’s truck at astonishing speed, pitting the path, and becoming embedded in the nearby moss-covered trees. He could hear the tiny rocks below him clattering like wayward bullets off the undercarriage as it received a similar assault from the front wheels.
Progress was slow, but progress was still progress. Eventually, however, Matthew, his truck, and the path had had enough.
The delivery truck lurched forward as one of its wheels was pushed from the road, sliding sideways, along with his own vehicle. Drug accelerated synapses fired at full light as he slammed on the brakes, and his truck slid towards the final turn towards his house. It began to slow, and steam sizzled from the hood of his car.
The structure was giving out. Almost every “Check Engine” light on the dash was on, and he knew that if his car died, he’d have no way to get his daughters to Hasbio should he have need for their facilities.
He cut the ignition, stepped out of his truck, and began the final sprint to his house. Behind him, the blinding lights of his truck obscured the fate of the other truck, but it’s not like it really mattered.
This was the final stretch. The syringes embedded in his leg clattered to the road and bounced into a roadside puddle.
He threw the front door open, and ran inside, calling out for Celestia.
“TIA! CELESTIA! WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE’S YOUR SISTER? ARE YOU OKAY?”
He hears a yelp from the living room and sprints forward where he sees Celestia laying on the floor, Briar standing like a scared cat between them.
“Briaw did whut Mistaw Winstin sayed! Nu unnastand why Briaw du dis, but nu haf’ maddies, Bwiaw onwy du wha’ Mistaw sayed ofer tawkie box!”
“You did good Briar, move aside and let me check her… let me check her… let me…”
Matthew loses himself, checking for every possible vital signal that he could. Pulse? Breathing? Responsive pupils? Yes, yes, and yes. She’s alive, but she still isn’t moving.
He withdraws an autoinjector and presses it into her. It hisses in response, and Celestia’s pulse quickens.
“Tia, dear sweet Tia, are you okay? What happened? What’s happening now?”
Her head lolls around lazily as her eyes struggle to focus.
“Da-ddy? I’m… s-so tried, and my heart h-hurts…”
“Shh, shh, shh… don’t get up, you’re still recovering. Stay here, your friend can help me.”
Matthew kisses Tia on the cheek, hugging her lightly and dampening her white coat with rainwater.
“Everything is gonna be okay.”
Matthew pulls away and turns to Briar and sweeps her up. Standing in the living room, he begins to interrogate her.
“You did exactly as I said? You gave her chest stompies? Counted to one, and did it again?”
“Yus, bu’ buh Bwiaw nu knew wha’ doing!”
“You did good Briar, very good, now where is Twilight. You said she was outside?” What is she doing?”
“Ofer dere! Twee faww on Pwincess Twiwight, an Pwincess fight twee bak tu saf’ fwuffies!”
“Wh… what? You said she was trapped outside.”
“Yus’ undaw twee! Pwease gu safe Pwincess nice mistaw!”
Matthew’s heart froze, and his body began to move on its own.
He threw Briar down onto the couch and wheeled around to the back door. Pulling the door open, he narrowly sidesteps Twilight’s “Throne” and sprints past terrified fluffies hiding under his picnic table. He runs towards the tree, looking for any hint of Twilight amongst the fallen leaves and fluttering tarp.
The scene is a mess. Mewling fluffies drenched in rainwater cry and squeal as he approaches, and he brushed a few from his path to close. His eyes scanned the fluttering tarp until he saw what he was looking for- purple. It is only once he steps over a large portion of the sheeting and the fluffies hiding below it scrambled away from his footfalls that he watched the purple splotch in his flawed vision distort, and flow away that his hear sinks and breath grows short. That wasn’t her, it was bloody rainwater on a blue backdrop. And she lies beside it, braced against the fallen yearling.
Unmoving.
And for a moment, so was Matthew.
Heart and all.
The world went silent.
The bullets of rain dulled away into a gentle vibration.
The dark light and growing fog consolidated into a haze.
The fluffies below him looked up in fear and awe.
Mr. Winston, “My Dad”, as their princess called him, was taking a direct action in their continued survival, or at least, that’s what they hoped. They hoped he would keep her safe.
“Pwease nice mistaw hewp pwincess!”
“Meanie twee hewt fwuffies!”
“Nu moaw sky wawa, nu wan’ more…”
“Hewp daddeh fin’ babbehs pwease! Wawa take dem!”
But he didn’t hear a word of their pleas. His knees smoothly reclined into a kneeling position next to his little princess. He checked for a pulse, which luckily, was there. She was still breathing as well… but her breaths were rasping and labored. Her eyes fluttered open at the warm touch of his hands and her eyes wobbled as they tried to focus on him.
He pulled up close to her and began to assess her injuries, shielding her from the pouring rain.
She seemed so much smaller, lying like this.
The problem was evident… and it was grave. He needed to get her inside and treated at once. If he didn’t, well, the effects could be permanent. Possibly fatal.
“I’ll take care of you angel-bug, don’t you worry… This might hurt, but I’m doing it to help you, okay? Twilight, please tell me you can hear me… please…”
No fluffy present had ever heard this kind of pleading before, the results of a bond they never got a chance to have. Perhaps a bond that they would never have at all…
Twilight smiled up at her father, scorched horn glowing the dimmest to happy indicators. She tried to speak but managed only to cough up blood, bright red lines forming between the lines of her orderly teeth.
He jabbed her with the last of the injectors he had, expecting a yelp, hoping for a snide remark… but none ever came. She just wobbled in a daze, staked to natures wrath… The injury was deep, some snapped limb of this fallen yearling had slipped between her ribs, and blood fringed the punctured flesh, an occasional drip reminding him of the precious time he was losing.
“Pwincess gon’ be otay?”
“Ew! Boo-boo juice!”
“Hewp! Pwinces am af’ hewties!”
“Pwease… nu’ moaw…”
There wasn’t really a way to elegantly extract her from the situation, so with a loud snapping noise, and a yelp of pain from his beloved daughter, she was freed from the tangle, wooden spike still in her side. The fluffies screamed and panicked at the sudden turn, some cowering, some voiding themselves, and others running out from beneath the tarp, only to be sent tumbling by the wind. Matthew’s hands dripped with blood as he held Twilight in one arm and stabilized the spike with the other. After what seemed an eternity, he reentered his home, cleared the dinner table, and placed Twilight on it.
Twilight groaned in pain.
Perhaps she’d been doing this the whole time, and he just couldn’t hear, but it was a good sign. After all, if she had energy to waste moaning, she had energy to spend staying alive.
As he looked up to fetch supplies for whatever impromptu surgery he was about to attempt, he felt suddenly lighter. In the back hall, Briar, Mossy, and Muddy were pushing a white box as hard as they could. The lights flickered as some distant power lines swayed, but as the other two cowered, Briar screamed lowder than any of them had hever heard he be before:
“NU! NU STAHP! GED NU-MOAW-HEWTIES BOX TU MISTAW WINSTIN!”
The other two redoubled their efforts, but hers had never ceased. He ran to the living room to fetch a bundle of towels to place Twilight on, and as he finished setting her, securing her in place, and staunching the bleeding, the sound of plastic on wood stopped and he felt a tiny bump against his right foot.
He didn’t even look down to see what it was. He had trusted that they would have brought the right thing, and they had. Right to work then.
Swiping down his arm, he tightly gripped the swinging handles of the plastic box and set it on the table. The “Nu-Moaw-Hewties-Box” as they called it. The sides once had proud, bold lettering, but it had long since been faded and peeled away. Indents on the side traced the symbol of the red cross, still barely visible as a dull pink on the aged plastic container.
He opened it and began his craft.
Of course, he knew what had to happen first, and though the thought turned his stomach, he steeled himself to go through with it. He didn’t analyze this like he had with all the fluffies she’d brought in. There was no checklist for her. The vital lines were already filled in, and the instructions were very simple “Do whatever it takes to save your daughter’s life.”
He held Twilight’s face close to his own as the fluffies looked on in awe and horror. Matthew looked her in the delirious eyes before whispering “I love you, and I’m sorry. This is gonna hurt.” Before jabbing her with a syringe, and after counting down from five… Prying her wound open with medical forceps and packing every bit of it with gauze. He’d expect this as he removed the wooden fragment from her side, but really hoped that it wouldn’t be the case.
Her right lung was collapsing.
Her tiny heartbeat sped up- pounding like a silent jackhammer.
At first it was only the laser focused appearance of her father tending to her kept that her in from panicking, but as time went on, more faces came to comfort her. Her sister wobbled to her feet, and climbed up onto the table, bending herself at odd angles and carrying something with her. As her eyes focused, she couldn’t help but smile at what she saw.
She wasn’t carrying her blanket up like she’d assumed… she was carrying Briar, who’s stubbly little body could have never made it up without her. Matthew’s vision darted to the movement, but he didn’t even acknowledge their presence.
Twilight on the other hand, was flooded with relief to see them both in good enough spirits, and even working together. This would mark the first time that Celestia had actually allowed a fluffy to touch her.
“T-tia? Bri-i-iar? I… huhhh… I… s-saved-d-d-d, uhhh? Wha?”
Her chest spasmed as she spoke, the incredible stress on her internals becoming apparent.
“I’m just-t c-cold… and t-tired…”
She stared off into space for a few seconds, unaware of the passing of time as darkness whorled around her spot-speckled vision. Her words sputtered and died half-spoken as blood clogged her airway, and she wheezed to clear it.
“It’s s-so hard t-to breathe… and my h-h… ears? ringing…
Her eyes fluttered slowly. As if an uneasy sleep was falling over her.
I’ll be… o-okay… I j-just…”
Matthew’s voice cut her off with a sternness she’d rarely ever heard as darkness stole her vision and her hearing began to fail.
“Twilight, stop talking. Breathe steady- and stay still. Don’t move.”
Nobody in the room needed to have it explained why. This was just a matter-of-fact thing.
Matthew had become “Dr. Winston” for the time being… and all the fluffies knew, perhaps even somewhere deep down in their genetic memory, not to disturb him while he worked.
Tense, grueling hours passed, and the uncaring sky darkened into a black-blue abyss.
The storm wasn’t keen on letting up any time soon, and it still had trials to present, it seemed.
Without warning power failed, and the makeshift operating theatre was cast into near total darkness. Either a tree had fallen, or some idiot speeding through the storm had wrapped their car around a utility pole. Either way all Matthew could do was apply pressure to the packed wound and wait.
“It’s okay, it’s okay…”
He spoke into the darkness, to his daughters, their fluffy friends… and himself.
“The dark will go away; we just need to wait a couple more seconds. I promise.”
Mossy, muddy and their progeny huddled together, terrified of the sudden murk, while Celestia pressed her snoot to the top of Twilight’s head and pulled Briar closer with one of her wings.
“I’m still here Twily. You don’ needa be ascared. I love you, and you’re gonna be all alright.”
“Bwiar am hewe tu princess. Nu gu anywhewe untiw Pwincess is saf’ and happy. W-w… wuv Pwincess tu.”
Twilight closed her eyes as she felt exhaustion washing over her. A lot of fluffies had said that they loved her before, but she always brushed it off as their programming and limited vocabulary… but this felt different. Twilight thought that Briar might actually care for her in whatever way a fluffy could truly show affection. Her little scientist-mind made a note of that. Something to explore later.
A distant rumble indicated the emergency generator coming to life. Matthew couldn’t help but smile, thinking of his childhood when his father bought that huge thing to attach to the house… storms and blackouts were frequent yes, but they could always just not use power for a night or two, right?
The lights in the room smoothed back on, flickering gently as they were influenced by the unstable flow of power from the decades old engine. His heart fluttered as he saw her little purple eyes sparkle under the illumination above her. They were still full of life, and thanks to his father all those years ago, he was able to keep it that way.
“Thank you, dad.”
He whispered.
…
Twilight looked up at him, her bangs flopping from her face as she smiled- bloody lines gloaming from between her teeth.
…
“Heh… hehh… hehhh… That’s m-my line… dad.”
PR: 112 bpm
TEMP: 35.5°C
SpO2: 92%
RR: 14 bpm
SYST: 62mmHg
DIAS: 33 mmHg