Carol of the Belles

run !

Snow flew up beneath the thundering hoofsteps pounding into it.

Sweetie Belle's lungs burned from the freezing air and the effort of keeping her hooves going, yet she still willed them to go faster. A large pouch thumped against her chest, and she could feel the supplies bouncing around inside. Scootaloo panted heavily beside her, fluttering her too small wings to try and give herself a speed boost.

Hundreds of hoofsteps pounded behind them, working hard to keep up with the frantic teenagers.

Well, maybe not hundreds. It was twenty at most. But Sweetie Belle's fear outweighed her sense, and it was still a much larger number than two.

Groans sounded from behind them, way too close for Sweetie Belle's comfort. Her heart pounded in her chest and the blood in her ears roared. Her survival instincts were the only things keeping her from being completely deaf in the heated chase. The stench of rotting flesh and death was getting closer, and there was a faint hint of blood in the air, but it'd been almost completely masked by the strength of the other smells that assaulted Sweetie's nostrils.

"Faster!" Scootaloo cried through pants, picking up her pace and bounded over a collapsed tree. "Come on!"

Sweetie Belle didn't dare waste her breath trying to talk. She picked up her pace as much as she could, beginning to breathe heavier. She braced herself, then leapt.

Sweetie yelped as her left hoof slammed hard into the tree. The fumble made her fall head over hooves. She landed hard on the snow, her jaw slamming into the ground. Had the snow not been there, she may have broken it. Her pouch lay several hoofsteps away from her, popped open. Scootaloo paused at the sound and looked back. Seeing her friend laying in such an awkward position, she charged back.

"No!" Sweetie cried when she realized Scootaloo's eyes hadn't even fallen onto the pouch. "Get the supplies!"

Scootaloo hesitated, stumbling a little. Sweetie Belle huffed and shifted so she could push herself up. When the orange Pegasus saw that Sweetie was okay enough to handle herself, she changed her route to collect the pouch.

Sweetie Belle clumsily pushed herself back onto her hooves, wincing in pain from her throbbing hoof and painfully aching jaw.

Scootaloo collected the pouch with her teeth, holding it up triumphantly. But the moment didn't last.

Sweetie Belle's miscalculated jump had stripped them of the headstart they had, and now they were surrounded. Mangled ponies stumbled over the fallen tree, most falling because of their weakened muscles. If they were regular ponies, Sweetie Belle would have found it humorous. Oh, Celestia, why couldn't they be regular ponies?

Familiar faces that were now deformed closed in on them, and Sweetie Belle's throat went dry as she realized that the noise they'd made had drawn in more.

The zombies edged closer at an agonizingly slow pace, like their brains were functioning just enough to remind them how to taunt their prey.

Idiots.

Sweetie Belle's horn sparked before roaring to life with magic. She could already feel the energy of the spell draining her, but Rarity had said to use it when she desperately needed it. Now was one of those times. With the zombies backing them into the large tree behind them and closing in on all sides, they had nowhere to go without getting mauled.

She sent all the magic she had to her horn, causing a blinding orb to form at the tip of her horn. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Scootaloo shield her eyes.

Sweetie Belle reared back, then swung her head forward.

She let out a feeble squeak when her injured hoof hit the ground too hard. It gave out beneath her, causing her to stumble. It was certainly no help that her cry had reignited the horrid pain in her jaw.