Quirltober 2021 Collection

Carrot Cake busied herself hanging fake cobwebs around the yard. This year, her mother had conceded to some slight decorating for the holiday. Wanting to respect Rice’s wishes, the year-old filly only purchased a roll of each type of decoration (bat-shaped garlands, warning ribbons and fake spiders, as well as the cobwebs she was currently hanging out) with the intention of only using a tiny bit to brighten up the mood (or perhaps, darken it in this case). 

However, the young quirlicorn found herself with an empty roll of cobwebs rather quickly. “Strange, it’s barely noticeable and yet I put so much more than what I was supposed to.” She took a step back to admire her work; it was a rather pitiful sight when compared to her neighbors’ yard. She would have liked to hang up a bedsheet on a branch as a makeshift ghost, but her mother had been amadent: nothing related to death, spirits or dark magic was to be displayed on the property.  

While she was backing away to admire her work from the street, her hoof slipped on and crushes a pebble-sized object. Looking down, she found a trail of wrapped candies and bubblegum which went all the way around the corner. At first, Cake suspected the cause must be the broken bag of an earlier trick-or-treater, but the trail was much too clean and calculated for it to be an accident.

She stood at the corner for some time, wondering what should be done about the situation. Should she tell an adult? Or should she follow the trail and investigate? 

She was a big girl now. She was allowed to venture in town without her mother’s supervision, so she must be allowed to follow this conspicuous trail of candy by herself too, right?

 

Her reasoning was cut short when she heard the sound of hooves coming in her direction. She was happy to see that the origin of the sound was Peak, her Auntie Difèrne’s daughter.

Peak was older than her by a few years. Her strides were confident and wore her signature grin on her face. Cake often envied her friend. She had gotten to experience the quirlicorn lands from such a young age, and it showed in her mannerism. 

“So you’re the one who made a trail? You sneaky filly,” the yellow quirlicorn shook her head in amusement. “Well, now that I’m here, let’s dig in!” She tossed a candy into the air and into her mouth.

“You picked them up?!” Cake exclaimed in horror. Peak tilted her head.

“Are you saying you’re not the one who laid out these candies to lure me?” She casually unwrapped a second candy. Cake promptly slapped it out of her mouth.

“No, I’m not! Don’t eat that!” Exasperated, she gestured to the trail of candy that unfurled beyond the corner.

“Why not?” Peak said in a hurt tone. 

“Because it could be poisoned, duh.” 

Peak rolled her eyes. “No one poisons candy around here.” She picked the candy off the ground and ate it.

“What if they suddenly did?” The pink filly ignored what she had just seen.

“Then my dad is going to find them and put them in jail. That’s the law.” 

It was Cake’s turn to roll her eyes. Her friend was much too reckless. Speaking of which, the mare carried on following the trail and picking the candy off the ground.

“Are you seriously going to follow them?” There was no judgement in her voice this time. She desperately wanted to know where the candy led, although she feared the adventure could take a wrong turn.

“Of course! For all we know, this could be one of Hocus Pocus’s new tricks. And I’m always down for Hocus Pocus’s surprises.”

“What if it’s not Hocus Pocus?” Cake wanted to ask. She shook her head, knowing that she and Peak would only begin arguing again. 

Anticlimactically, the trail ended down the street, just before the plaza.  Peak shrugged and ate the last candy. 

“That’s suspicious,” Cake said, all of her senses alert. She felt as though a quirlicorn would swoop in from above and kidnap them on the spot. 

Something sharp hit her rump. She kicked in panic. “AAAH!” 

Peak bucked in surprise. “What’s up?” She also got hit with something. “Ow! What’s happening!” 

Soon, the two were showered with stingy pebbles. When it finally stopped, the quirlicorns heard giggles beyond the hedge they were standing next to. Peak lost no time poking her head through.

“You think this is funny?” 

Two foals sat there with catapult models, laughing to the edge of tears. 

“It was funny,” the foals confirmed.

The mare grumbled, but managed to force a smile. “Well, it did hurt. It was no fun for us.”

“Hey, you did get candy out of this,” the foals argued. Peak looked at Cake.

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Don’t do it again,” Cake scowled at the foals. She was a bit bigger than them but she knew they would soon outgrow her. “It’s mean.”

The foals looked away, intimidated by the grumpy, taller quirlicorn. “Yes , ma’am.” Then they ran off with their catapults.

Peak gave her a disapproving look. “Come on, it wasn’t so bad. You sound like your mom.”

“They hurt us,” Cake said (her friend’s comment hurt more than the pebbles, though), “we can’t just let them do it again.”

Peak sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I wish there was a gentler way to tell them.”

“How did your mom deal with you when you were younger?”

Peak smirked. “She didn’t. I was just such a good filly.”

“Of course you were,” Cake said, pushing the mare with her shoulder and then running off with the hopes that a headstart would give the advantage in this surprise race.

“Hey, wait up, that’s not fair!” Peak cried behind her.