She's locked on the scent, flying through the forest, so intent on chasing down the stench of the Nowhere King's forces that she hardly notices Rider tumbling from her back. There's blood in the air as well, and fear—she doesn't have much time. She rounds a corner and bursts into the clearing, charging faceplate-first into a misshapen birdtaur beast three times the general's height, sporting six eyes of various sizes, a jutting jaw of loose teeth, and rocky spikes down its spine, each as wide as the mare herself.
It towers over a bedraggled villager, bleeding from his arm and swinging a club, cornered and cringing against a boulder.
Rider will have to fend for herself.
All six eyes turn to focus on Becky Apples as she stomps. The monster squawks in outrage at the mere pony who had dared disturb it. Its wings fold into its body and remerge, laden with dozens of birdtaur eggs.
Becky's ear twitches.
"SKKRREAAUGHHH!" The monster screams. Eggs rain down over the clearing, each cracking on the ground. Hairless baby birdtaurs crawl from the shells, their prickled skin coated in clear ooze, dutifully echoing their mother's battle cry. Becky nimbly darts around the falling eggs, evading every one. She kicks the last one back, sending it flying into the birdtaur's face. It splatters upon impact, the frail fetus within clinging to birdtaur's eyeballs as it shrieks its dying message.
In the time it takes the birdtaur to swipe a wing over its eyes, Becky is upon it in a flash, catching it by surprise. The monster crouches, pointing a massive spike right at Becky. Her armor is light, her legs are slender, and she's flesh and bone like any other horse. The villager squeezes his eyes shut, sure that Becky will be dashed into bloody pieces before his very eyes. A moment later, a sickening crunch sounds throughout the clearing.
The villager cracks his eyes open. Becky stands unbothered and unharmed, and at her feet is a vivid crimson streak. Gulping, he follows it with his eyes, to find the creature crumpled against a tree. It slowly staggers upright. A massive spike is missing from its back, the edges jagged and splintered. Raw orange flesh peeks through the hole in its armor. It looks at the wound in surprise, then swivels its head to stare at Becky Apples. She glares back and paws the ground.
Becky calmly approaches the creature. Its myriad eyes widen in fear, and it raises its wings to shield its head.
One fierce stomp is all it takes. With a sicky thud, the creature's skull is caved in. It slumps to the ground, all six unseeing eyes unfocused.
Becky looks around the bird-littered clearing, then at the villager staring with his jaw hanging open.
"Thank you, mysterious... savior horse," the villager says. "Will you save our home? Our people keep turning up dead. Every night we lock the gates, but every morning, another half-eaten body turns up." He shudders.
Becky snorts and flicks her ear. She's already tracking an unknown set of footsteps: lurching, squelching, staggering. She turns—a shadowy figure is standing over the corpse of the birdtaur beast, silver curls encircling her head, wearing a lace dress in cornflower blue. Her face is cast in perpetual shadow as she bends over the dead beast to tear off a bite of its monstrous flesh. It grins from a gash of a mouth, bright and dripping with pulpy birdflesh.
Rather than running, the villager speaks to her sternly. "Cecilia? I thought I told you to stay home," the villager chides her.
Cecilia turns and flees, blue skirts swishing behind her.
Becky Apples glares at the villager with one raised eyebrow.
"Oh, that's Cecilia. We found her wandering a month ago and took her in."
Becky's eyebrow raises further. One ear flicks towards where the girl vanished.
"Well, yes, we did think something strange about her, but we couldn't leave her out to starve! Even if she does like her meat raw!"
Becky shakes her head in disgust, then charges through a thicket in hot pursuit. On the other side stands—
"Becky!" Rider shouts with unprecedented joy, her face beaming with unfamiliar innocence. "There you are! I was so worried!"
Becky looks at her blankly, unimpressed.
"I searched everywhere! Come on, pretty girl. Let's go home." Rider holds out an apple and bares too many teeth in a dazzling smile.
Becky takes a step forward.
"Yes, that's right, pretty girl. Just a little closer," Rider coaxes, the pupils wide and dark in her empty eyes. Her tongue snakes out, a tendril of black spit hanging from the tip.
Becky never bothers to roll her eyes, but she's tempted. She breaks into a gallop. Rider takes an uneasy step back. When she's mere feet away, she flips up her faceplate, lowers her head, and charges straight into Rider, impaling her through the too-dark eyes.
Instead of the crunch of breaking bone, there's the squish of of a blade plunging into goo. Rider screams as she transforms back into Cecilia, greenish slime oozing from the gash. With a last twitch, her body goes limp, dangling from the faceplate by her head.
The corpse swings as she turns to face the villager; he stumbles back, his face a queasy green. "Um... the village owes you a great debt..." he trails off hesitantly.
Becky takes a step towards him. The corpse sways with her every step, girlish curls and delicate blue lace fluttering.
"You know, I'll just leave this here!" The villager's throws an apple on the ground and backs away two steps, panicked, chest heaving. Abandoning all propriety, he turns and flees into the underbrush.
Becky shakes the corpse off, the curled wig tumbling from the still-oozing wound. She flicks the black droplets from her faceplate with a toss of her head. Contentedly, she walks over to the apple and crunches it in a single bite. She regards the corpse with distaste: it's not an apple, but it is fuel, so she grabs hold of one black spindly arm in her teeth. With a single breath, she slurps the body into her mouth and swallows it whole. Next, she regards the fallen wig: the hairs aren't digestible, but the roughage will balance out all the sludge she's eaten. She picks it up.
"Thanks for leaving me behind," the real Rider grumbles, crashing into the clearing. She'll never understand Becky in the slightest, her eternal fealty to the last remnant of her first rider: his absence in the humble patisserie they'd left behind. Becky herself had been lucky to escape their quest unscathed, with only her heart crushed to coal and smoldering with hate.
Becky Apples doesn't need to be understood, only to serve.
She stares Rider dead in the eyes. She swallows the wig. She prepares for battle.
