An Empty Tent
IC date: Summer 19, 1007
OOC date: July 9, 2012
PCs: Snowfield
NPCs:
GM:

"Watcher! Watcher! Where you are?" The shouted words penetrate the thick fabric of the tent several seconds before Snowfield bursts in, only momentarily hindered by the magical lock keeping the tent flaps closed. A unicorn in distress is not bothered by puny wards. Her horn is brightly glowing, illuminating the darkened tent with a pale blue glow, while the body of the late mayor of Horseshoe Harbor floats lazily in behind her. "Manyara! Where in Equestia are you?"

There is no response from the tent. Only the lingering scent of spent incense in the air answers the unicorn's plea. "You stupid wish granter, why aren't you here when you're actually needed!" Maybe there's a convenient potion somewhere on the shelves. Without an ounce of care for Manyara's no doubt careful organization scheme the tiny mare begins rifling through shelves cabinets, looking for anything promising.

"Barkskin, no… rose-colored glasses, no… love poison? No! Argh!" She stamps a hoof and stares at the last few remaining shelves in dispair. There's the gypsy's collection of stupid knick-knacks, which Snowfield long since figured out is related to the wishes she's granted so far. She stops in her place as an idea occurs to her. "…that's it!"

Without a second thought the unicorn rushes to the knick-knack shelf and looks it over. A seashell, a family photo, a little metal rooster, a potion bottle… "Where did they go?" Snowfield gives the shelf another once over, looking beneath it and then a third time at the contents of it. "Did she use the flowers? Why did she use them now?"

Snowfield growls in frustration and turns around to look at Salty's body spinning lazily through the air. She looks oddly peaceful for somepony who was just impaled by a rogue weather vane. What a uniquely Salty way to go. She sighs in resignation and looks at the mess she's made in the tent. Pretty much the only thing she HASN'T disheveled is the tea table in the middle, currently barren except for a vase of blue fl—

"…"

The mare floats the flowers, well-preserved thanks to the dark interior of the tent, out of their vase. She magics Salty's mouth open and stuffs the blossoms into it, forcing her to chew before magicking the vase into the air and dumping the water down the mayor's gullet to hopefully get some to her stomach. If there's any life left in this body at all, this many Windigo's Kiss being eaten at once ought to… well, ought to do what they do best. Freeze life in its tracks, in this case right at the brink of death.

Snowfield slows down and stares expectantly at the rapidly cooling body of the mayor before realizing that the body would be cooling anyway what with the whole, you know, dead thing. Her excited look drops into one of consternation. If the Windigo's Kiss works… it'll only work temporarily. The flowers she'd brought to Manyara so far are a good start but won't keep the effect going for more than a few days, if that considering they weren't prepared in a proper potion. She'll need a lot more than this…

"Shoot," the mare says. Guess there's only one way to keep Salty fresh while she figures out how the heck to remove a weather vane from somepony's spine. "Looks like you'll be staying at my place for a while." She dashes back out the front of the tent and heads straight for the Wintersong Forest.