Twig Gnasher


                                            This story was made in under one hour for the prompt: Campfire Tale

                                            Post # of Prompt: >>36948497


                                            Around the roaring fire, a small group of sisters gathered under a blanket of starlight and huddled closer together. Misshapen and slightly charred, the cubes of marshmallow, impaled by thin spikes from a twig, were slid off and sandwiched between graham crackers and a hearty chunk of dark chocolate.

                                            “Here ya go, sugarcube.”

                                            “And here you are, darling.”

                                            “Heads up, squirt.”

                                            “Anks ‘is,” each of the fillies managed to mutter out through the sticky mess caking the insides of their mouths.

                                            “Y’know,” Applejack declared, stretching out her legs towards the moon, “I figured I’d spin a little story for y’all since it’s a special occasion and all.”

                                            “Please, regale us with your tale, darling,” Rarity answered back, leaning towards her with curiosity.

                                            As Applejack cleared her throat, her smile vanished into a serious complexion. “Long ago, even before Sweet Apple Acres, was a timberwolf like no other,” hopping off the felled log, she began to prowl just outside where the tongues of light licked the darkness, “he was a biggun, a real biggun.”

                                            “H-How big?” Scootaloo questioned.

                                            “Funny ya ask,” Applejack replied with a growl right behind her withers, “’cause ol’ Twig Gnasher was bigger’an all five of ya combined.”

                                            “Really?” Apple Bloom asked, her eyes glinting in the firelight.

                                            “Yup, and as he ran through this ground right here, you could hear ‘em cracking branches from a mile away,” she spookily whispered, gently stomping on twigs with light snaps echoing in the cool air.

                                            “But why’s he called ‘Twig Gnasher’ if he cracks branches?” Sweetie Belle questioned.

                                            “Well that’s simple.” Returning to her seat, Applejack sat hunched over, barely looking the fillies in their eyes, “it’s ‘cause of the sound us ponies made when he gobbled us up.” Tilting her head up, she grinned, her teeth on full display for all to see. “He gobbled us up with his filthy. Jagged. Maw.”

                                            Suddenly, a flurry of branches cracking sparked as the wind started to blow.

                                            “W-What else did he do,” Rainbow whimpered, tightly hugging Scootaloo closer to her.

                                            “They say his howls were like this here wind,” Applejack cooed, her smile growing even larger than before as a roar pierced into the camp, “at least, that is until he gets ya.”

                                            “Aah, don’t eat us!” all the fillies screamed, leaping from their sister’s sides as the snapping of twigs grew louder when Harry and Fluttershy entered the campsite alongside Pinkie, Twilight and Spike.

                                            “Oh my, we really gave them a scare. Pleasedontbemadatusandweresorrythatwewerelate.” Fluttershy mewled, pawing at the ground as Pinkie spun and twirled around the fillies, corralling them back to their seats.

                                            “You should’ve seen your faces! You were like ‘ah’ and ‘don’t eat us’ and it was great! Who wants smores? Did you save any for us?”

                                            Settling in beside Applejack, Twilight snickered as she pulled from her saddlebags a weathered and sun-stained leather book.

                                            “What’s that ya got there, Twi?”

                                            “This? It’s just a book of campfire tales Spike picked out for us.”

                                            “Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to hear some stories,” Spike shrugged.

                                            And from dusk to dawn, spooky stories were told and screams were had.