Skyheart was in no shape to fight. Escape was her best avenue. She would not be used in whatever it was the tribe had planned for her! “Maybe I can snatch one of them up later to ask about treasure, but I gotta get out now.” Skyheart didn’t hesitate once her mind had been made up, poking her hooves through the unblocked window. “Tight fit but I think I can make it!” she hoped, the fat pony pulling herself through with fur scraping against the wood. She made it up to her upper belly, sore wing stinging as it pressed to her body. “Come on Skyheart, the griffon wasn’t that big,” she coached herself as she planted hooves against the outer hut wall and heaved. Inches squeezed through the small window, flabby belly starting to sag down but mostly folded and squished still. Skyheart grit her teeth and maintained the push while kicking her hindlegs to little effect. She managed to get her plump gut through, buttcheeks squishing together now as they were forced through the hole. When her wings were free, Skyheart fought through the pain and flapped them to increase momentum, wriggling her hips and thrashing her tail until with a pop! the pony broke free, crashing into the jungle environment but hovering above the ground to prevent more noise. 

“Maybe lost some feathers but I’m good,” the pony quickly analyzed before zipping away from the camp. “Dumb zebras didn’t think anypony could escape through that window? Morons.” She laughed and fluttered along for another minute or so before the pain from her wing got to her: The pony landed back to the ground, and found herself surrounded by greens and noise. A lot of noise! Lots of wild activity existed this deep in the island, she figured. “Better keep moving then. Don’t want those zebras or some bastard of a monster finding me.”

Skyheart took off as fast as she could go, which wasn’t much given the unsteady terrain in the form of large trees and their roots and bushes and other impairments. The pony stopped after five minutes of moving straight ahead, seeing nothing but jungle too. “...Well shit. Can’t fly. Can’t find my way out. What am I gonna do?” The pegasus paused and took deep breaths. The humid air made it hard for her to catch her breath, but it gave her time to think. “Those traitors are on the ground now no doubt. Hopefully they’ll run into the griffons and they’ll all just kill each other. Heh, that would be nice… Gah, come on Skyheart, focus! They’re the least of your problems right now!” She slowly turned to face back from whence she came, back to where the tribe of zebras was. “Can’t really get out of here with my life if I’m wandering out here alone by nightfall. I gotta get a guide. And that means...” The pegasus sighed, and started a trek back towards the camp.

It wasn’t hard to re-locate, as Skyheart’s rush through the jungle left obvious signs of the trail she came from. “Probably would’ve found me anyway,” she said as she veered off for cover, settling down behind a bush and waiting. “But now they’ll have a clear path to travel. I’ll just pick off the scrawniest one and force them to get me out of here!” She licked her lips and got comfortable. Only when it started to get dark did she hear commotion in the tribe ahead. She wished she could see it, but knew that she couldn’t venture any closer. There was a lot of noise, followed by shouting in a foreign language, followed by silence. Skyheart grew nervous as it grew darker out. She didn’t have much time left.

The copper pony was about to give up and just make a break for the sky, regardless of her wing or if it would attract a sudden flock of flying spears, when she heard rustling. To her utter delight, a single zebra made his way down the trail that Skyhaert had initially taken, sporting a torch in one hoof. The mare waited and watched for more, but none came. Unless they’re coming from multiple directions, dodobrain, she reminded herself. But a quick scout didn’t show any obvious signs of ingress, save for the solitary zebra. Doesn’t mean anything… But I gotta risk it. It’s almost completely dark, and they have a light.

Skyheart waited and waited for the approaching Zebra to get as close as possible. Her belly growled at the sight, and Skyheart pressed into it to shut it up. She couldn’t eat her guide. Not yet. When he got within a few feet of her he stopped, ears swiveling. Skyheart didn’t give him a chance and pounced, driving the surprised zebra to the ground! Unlike the griffon, though, her latest opponent was better at unarmed scuffles. He socked her across the jaw when the pegasus thought she had a pin, sending Skyheart reeling an instant. That was all he needed to reach up under his mane and reach for something that glinted the firelight. Skyheart rolled away and gasped.

The griffon’s dagger! They must’ve stolen it when they kidnapped me! Skyheart growled and did what nopony should do when unarmed: Bull rush! The zebra didn’t expect it, finding his world full of orange plump fur as Skyheart slammed bodily into him. The dagger went to the ground and the zebra into a tree, head smacking against it. Skyheart took the weapon and thrust a foreleg up against the Zebra’s neck, brandishing the dagger with her good wing, inches from his cheek. “Don’t. Move.” Several tense moments passed before Skyheart felt the zebra slacken. She removed her foreleg but kept the dagger in lethal range, pointing to the torch flickering on the ground.

“Get,” she spoke simply. The zebra understood, swiping the torch from the ground with careful, deliberate motions, so as to not set Skyheart off. “Get me out of this jungle!” Skyheart commanded. The zebra looked a bit fearful but stood still, looking not defiant, but confused. Skyheart sighed. “Uhm… Leave. Oh, ocean! Swim! Take.” She gestured to him, then her, then made a swimming motion with a hoof. Her wing never wavered. Comprehension dawned on the zebra’s features and he nodded, marching away from her and away from the tribe, to lead the way. He held the torch ahead of him with one hoof, flicking his tail to indicate Skyheart should follow. The mare breathed a sigh of relief and kept close up behind the zebra. Her fate was in his hooves now.

Said zebra had many emotions flowing through him – humiliation, fright, anger – all mingling with one-another and clouding his judgment. He wanted to take the winged creature back to the tribe, but there was no way he could about-face and just go straight back. She’d kill him! He could lead the intended feast to freedom, but he could never show his face in the tribe again, as he would become the feast. Maybe… That was the path? A new tribe, with this pastel-colored foreigner? Or perhaps he could just bring back proof of her demise. That would save his own skin. He had an idea, but wasn’t sure if he could pull it off. At the first sign of danger, he was dead. Which path would lead the zebra to a bright future instead of a sudden dark end?