Mottled Shadowby InkyarnChaptersSilence ReignsCrumbling CliffsFalling LeavesSilence ReignsDarkness hung about the mountain like a thick blanket. It enveloped all in its ink coated fingers and stained the world black. Hazy lights in the distance peered weekly through its coat but could not penetrate it. The railroad tracks that wove up the mountain occasionally lit as the train went hurtling through, shaking the ground and sending hundreds of stones hurtling down to the bottom. As the massive machine shot away into the caves toward the city at the top, its bleached white light tore away to guide the train home. The rumbling of the tracks and the loud electric squeal of its wheels soon faded, leaving the darkness to creep in upon the world once more. The chugging of the machine drifted away and silence swelled to fill the space. Midnight creatures, startled by the appearance of the locomotive, hesitantly poked their heads of of the shadows. They crept back to their homes and settled down; daring not to disturb the silence that quickly took hold. Shaking and peering out timidly, they again found their burrows and concealed themselves in night. Thus the forest quieted and thus the world became still. Hours ticked away and again came that dreaded horn. It blasted out of the cave, amplified by it and sending creatures skittering and bolting away. Light bleached the bottom of the mountain as it hurtled toward the distant cities beyond. The entire mountain seemed to rumble with the force of its entrance. Deep down around the bend, woven into a crevice above the trees, the force was powerful. Rocks shook loose from the ceilings. Stalactites threatened to fall down upon the ponies cowering inside the cave. Hushed whispers and soft, motherly coos alike ran out from the crowd as they huddled in their brief reprieve from the cold embrace of silence. The faint traces of the train's headlight managed to wrap around and stain the inside walls of the cave before pulling away and disappearing into the night. As darkness settled once more, silence took hold and hushed the small crowd. Foals hugged close to their mothers and stallions settled at the mouth of the cave. Breathing in a collective sigh of relief, the ponies went about their night. Restless, for now was not their time to sleep. With the train away, the stallions picked themselves up and moved toward the mouth of the cave. Keen slit eyes peered out into the blackness as the edged out onto the thin, scraggly ledge before the cave. Careful hooves gently placed themselves along the path so that the silence was undisturbed. The two of them moved swiftly across the stone. Down below them was an expanse of open fields and a thin line of trees. Old paths led through the hills, now barren and soft with grass. Once the valley was filled with trees. A massive forest that provided the ponies with cover and security. Long ago, the forest had been sliced away as more and more ponies expanded about Equestria. The ones that remained continued on with only the thin line of woods that harbored the night's creatures. Black figures leaped up the mountain to a short, smaller cave above. A fire flickered in the darkness, popping and crackling but never threatening the ever present silence. As the two descended upon the fire, large black cloaks wrapped about themselves, they came upon three familiar faces. From the shadows behind them a figure watched as the five began their meeting. "Silver Vice," a small, elderly pony raised his black muzzle to the newcomers. His hushed voice filled with age, he peered forth through distant, hazy blue eyes and frowned at the silver stallion he addressed. "You've been to the woods tonight?" Silver Vice turned his head away as he took his place among them. "There was no food." "There's never been food." A dark purple mare added from beside the elder. Her own voice, hushed and daring not to disturb the ambient silence, shook with age. "Never since they took the trees away." "We cannot help that, Cysgod." Roajel's thick voice hushed her quickly. "We cannot say what the sun ponies do with their Equestria." "I remember a tale from when Equestria was ours." Silver Vice lifted an old, cracked clay cup to his lips. "We were gods among the lesser kinds. Feared and respected." The elder leaned back against the stone he used as a stool. "We are not to be feared." The mighty kind around them cringed at the break in its reign and rushed back, filling the fire with its stillness and weighing down upon the circle. After the elder's rough voice, it snatched them all with its firm grip. Continuing on, quieter, he eyed them all with a stern frown, "we are not brutes or savages. We were never meant to be and under my rule we never will be feared." The fire popped and the group lowered their muzzles to their leader. "Roajel, how are the food stores?" The massive white stallion that entered with Silver Vice raised his ghostly head. "There are many insects for tonight but that cannot get them through the rest of the season." He shook his head. "Falinn and I have searched the whole wood for food. We managed to dig up some roots and nuts but the floor is still bare from our last gather." He looks over to his friend, running a pale white hoof across his arm. "Our food is running low." "We all know what this means," Cysgod chimed in, her eyes closed. "With food so low..." Her vibrant purple eyes almost glowed through the dark as they lifted up to meet Silver Vice's. "We must visit the Giving Tree." Silence reared back and fell heavily across the council. Not even the fire dared to spark a sound. Alarmed faces peered about but nopony said a word. "You can't!" A tiny voice peeped from the shadows of the crevice. The council jumped at the sound and looked over to find a small frame clinging to the side of the mountain. Glowing blue eyes stared up at them, wide and wondrous as the colt hung to the scraggly cliff. The pale moonlight glowed about his mottled grey coat and midnight blue mane. The black cloak at his sides hung still and taut. Mottled Shadow was eavesdropping on the council. He cringed as five pairs of eyes stared curiously, some irritated, down at him. A low rumble came in the distance, growing steadily louder. Pebbles loosened from the edge of the cliff and cascaded down beneath the colt's feet. Stark white light grew upon the mountain and bleached its side in hazy white light. It drew near, glowing brighter. Deep trembles ran through the cliff and knocked the colt off balance. He gave a small gasp and leaped forward. All at once the cloak wrapped neatly around him unfurled. Long black strips flung out from his body, sweeping away from his shoulder blades and pulling taut. With a grunt of effort they fanned the air and propelled him along; two long, thin bat wings. Another beat and he made it up to the elders' cave just as the light grew brightest. A proud grin drew across his face. Wind filled his wings and threatened to snatch him back out across the cave but the adult jumped forth. Silver Vice reached the colt first, taking him by the cuff and snatching him out of the air. His thin wings folded sloppily and he was thrown to the floor beside the fire, hitting it roughly in time to feel the train go rushing into the mountain. "Mot, you idiot." Silver Vice growled darkly. "You will not pull such a stunt again!" He advanced toward him, cut off by the mares. They rushed to the colt's side, helping him up and tuck in his wings. The leathery cloak around him once more, Mottled Shadow coughed away the dust. "That was very dangerous," Roajel frowned, his ears perked. "A pony might have spot you." "From this side of the mountain? I doubt it." Cysgod rolled her eyes and dusted Mottled Shadow off. "The light is the problem. That blasted train." "The food is the problem tonight." Falinn interjected, pulling the young one beside her, Mottled Shadow gratefully took the seat and tucked his tail in neatly, looking around the fire. "That's why we need to visit the Tree." Mottled Shadow's ears fell back. "Has it ripened early?" He peeped, peering past Falinn's protective hooves. Everypony turned in his direction, their eyes glowing in the night. He gulped audibly and shrank away against the mare. "W-well, I thought... I just knew that the tree couldn't be picked from until it was ripe." "What do you know?" Silver Vice sneered, muzzle wrinkling. "Should we really be discussing this before the foal?" "He does have a point," Roajel interjected. He raised a hoof and ran it through his streaked grey mane. His own cloak-like wings shifted around himself. "The tree is a gift of our Goddess; we cannot disobey its rules." Falinn nodded and the two folded their hooves. "It feeds us throughout every season but when it goes dormant we cannot pick the fruit until it has ripened." "Irul Valkkai, will you really take the side of some colt?" Silver stamped his hoof. "We need food now and that tree is our only hope. We may starve before it decides when it wants to feed us." Ears back, wings slowly releasing, Silver Vice lowered his head and snarled the words. "We can't let the tree decide when it's best for the colony to feed." The elder, Irul Valkkai, lifted his hoof for silence but it was beaten back by Falinn's interjection; "if we pick from it now it will die!" "Says who?" Cysgod frowned thoughtfully. "Our Goddess has been away for thosands of years." "She came back." Roajel's eyes narrowed. "And has she yet said any word on the tree?" Silver Vice shook his head to emphasize his point. "She brings us food but her visits are far inbetween and unpredictable. We cannot rely on her any longer. We must act now. The apples won't be as sweet but they will keep our foals fed." With a gesture to Mottled Shadow, the colt shrank, blushing at the attention now on him. "The tree is laced with the Goddess's magic, Silver Vice. Magic has rules." He laughed, his voice always hushed, and shook his head. With a small, sideways grin, he stared down at Falinn and the colt. "It's simply a tree, my friend. Nothing more." "A tree that has survived thousands of years, thousands of storms and thunders and fire. It feeds throughout the year so long as we preserve it." Irul Valkkai's words hushed the bickering council. "We will not go against the wishes of our Goddess, no matter what." "It's too risky," Falinn piped in. A single glance silenced her. The eldest went on, "No matter what." His eyes landed on Silver Vice. "But-" "This meeting is over." Irul Valkkai stood on his shaky old hooves and nodded. With a single swipe of his wing, the fire disappeared into hundreds of glowing coals. A dark hoof, now indistinguishable from the night's shadows, pressed against Mottled Shadow and led him back down to the cave. Crumbling CliffsDarkness crept over the hills, peeking its head over their crests to bathe the mountain side in its pale glow. The warm sunlight was replaced with the cold kiss of night. The water that cascaded down from the rocky ceiling glistened under the moon's caress and pooled at the base in a rippling mirror filled with stars and sparkles. As the warm wind of fall became cold and crisp, the mountain came to life. Animals picked themselves out of their burrows while their neighbors began to settle down. Owls opened their glowing amber eyes and gave the short crop of woods its first song of the evening. With the last stretches of dusk slipping away along the opposite horizon, a pair of bright blue eyes poked out of the mouth of a cave up on the mountain. The pair were followed by a grey and black head and a mess of curly blue hair. Mottled Shadow stepped out onto the lip of the cliff and peered down over the valley. It seemed to stretch on into forever before him. He could almost reach out and touch the breast of the moon as it slowly made its ascent across the midnight sky. A canvas filled with twinkling stars and brilliant stretches of color opened up above him. Mot sat and soaked in the image, filling his breath with the sharp breeze about the cave. The world shattered beneath a large horn. It blared out from within the bowels of the mountain before the distinct rumble of earth. A dragged, weary groan came from behind him and the distinctive sound of rocks clattering against the stone floor followed. Stalactites quivered, Mot's heart shook with the force, even the stars seemed to shift as the great locomotive whipped out of the tunnel around the bend and went zooming off into the night, its distinct stark light being forced out and then torn away in the same instant. The mountain settled again and the ambient silence around them, the ponies' ever present king, came about them like a familiar blanket. With a careful sigh and a short frown, Mottled Shadow picked himself up and turned back to the cave. The adults moved from their nests to wandering about the cave. They chatted quietly with themselves as the foals romped about. A little silver filly went running from a colt with sunset orange fur. While they romped, the colt's mother looked on with a frown. She sat perched atop a shelf along the cave wall. Her hooves tucked under her pale breast, she watched her foal with a quirk in her smile and a fallen ear. As the two drew close to the edge, her swift, thin wings snapped out and carried her to them. "Don't get too close," she ushered the two back, receiving small groans from the young ones. "To the back of the cave; get." Her wings wrapped around the golden colt and ushered him away. "Evening Rose," a black mare pushed at the pony's wings, freeing the foal to run back to his friend. "He's going to be okay if you just let him be." "That's easy for you to say." Her eyes narrowed and her frown drew. "Mot's two shades of grey. He isn't going to stand out." "Roar's had seven years to stand out." Her friend rolled her eyes. "I don't see any angry mobs at our cliff." Mottled Shadow stepped around the bend to peer at the adults. His gaze shifted down to Roar as he went galloping away from the laughing silver filly. With his ears perked, he observed the colt. The dark wings pulled tight against his dark orange body, his bright gold mane. The color of the sunset. "I don't see anything wrong with him." His eyes flicked back toward his mother. Dark Note gave a start and pinned her ears back. Evening Rose looked around, her brow furrowing. "Oh, Mot, uhm..." "Of course there's nothing wrong with Roar." Dark Note stepped toward him and drew him in. "He's a bright little colt and he's going to do great things. I know it." She put a hoof down on her son and drew him in. "You mean leading the same useless existence we all do?" The three looked up to a scowling grey face. "She means by helping the Colony to thrive!" Evening Rose snapped, her ears flying back. "That's-" "-all we can do." Another stallion approached, standing mirror image to Silver Vice. The two shared colors, both proud heads lifting high. "What other purpose do any of us have?" "Being ourselves, for one." Dark Note's muzzle scrunched. Silver Vice rolled his eyes. "Oh please, after you discover your cutie mark, there's nothing left to live for." "I never want to find mine." The silver filly threw her head into the circle and beamed up at the adults. Her violet eyes fell around Mot and color flushed to her cheeks. "I want to be free forever." "Mirror," a dark blue stallion drew her in. "Finding your cutie mark is a beautiful process. It's discovering who you are. The deepest parts of you." "And then sitting on that for the rest of your life while you waste away in this cave." "Silver Vice!" The mares snapped. "Well it's true." His white tail flicked behind him. Stepping away, he let his wings slip out and trail dramatically across the floor. Mottled Shadow followed him across to the mouth of the cave. "You can't pretend we live in some perfect world. Dark Note, when was the last time I heard you sing?" The two of them met gazes. "Some of us get lucky. We're blessed with talents we can use. That we can exhibit. But Evening Rose, what was the last flower you so much as saw?" His back arched as he turned, the sound of his hoofstep drowning away in the blaring of the horn. Blinding white light bleaching the hills around them and snapping away in a split second. Pebbles on the floor rattled and the world shivered under the weight of the train. Silence settled around them again, hanging over their heads with the rush of the river and the cooing of night birds in the distance. "We're so busy worrying about keeping secret that we never even bother to wonder why we're a secret in the first place." A hoof pressed against Mot's shoulder. He let himself be pulled into his mother's chest and brushed his cheek against her soft fur. His head slowly fell and he stared down at the rocks at his hooves. "Well... Why are we a secret?" Mirror lifted her hoof and stomped it back down. "I mean... There's all those fields right there. All those hills. Why are we in this cave when there's so much space?" "Because we have to protect ourselves." Roajel trotted toward the cliff. Behind him were two other stallions. "Pool, we're going to hunt, care to join?" His pale hoof extended to the navy stallion. "Why hunt when we have a steady supply of food just above our heads?" Silver rolled his eyes and turned away, trotting out into the autumn breeze. A wisp of his tail caught in the wind disappeared down the side of the mountain. Mottled Shadow looked up to see the stallions sidestep him for the cliff. "Can I come?" Cysgod's short, raspy voice chimed in from deeper inside the cave. "Why not let him? The colt's got nothing else to aspire to." Roajel and Pool shot the cranky old mare a quick look. "You two didn't when you were his age." She shrugged and peeled off from the wall to wander deeper down to talk with the mares. "I don't see why he can't." Roajel extended a long, dark wing and laid it gently across Mottled Shadow's shoulders. "So long as you promise to do exactly as we say." There was a rumble to his voice that stirred Mot's heart. He puffed out his chest and raised his chin, bright blue eyes flashing excitedly. "I promise." Ears as perked as they could be, Mottled Shadow gave a hop and went scampering outside the cliff, clambering over rocks and stones to catch up to the other ponies. They wrapped around the mountain toward the waterfall. Its great tumbling roar grew louder and a thin spray of cool mist clung to Mot's fur. It trickled down to chill his skin. He shivered at the water's touch and shied away, giving the fall as much girth as he could. Loose stones shifted under his hooves and trickled down the side. They clicked audibly, some disappearing into the grassy bottom below. A loud, hissing shift burst out from under Mot's hooves. Rocks gave way and went tumbling down the mountain. There was a pitch in gravity as the earth fell away beneath him and Mot scrambled toward the cliffside. Stomach churning, head reeling, everything in him tensed as he skid down across the edge. His eyes screwed shut and his wings snapped open, filling with air and tearing him away from the cliff. The autumn wind kicked up around him and tossed him back, throwing him away from the others. Mottled Shadow kicked and spun. Frantic huffs escaped him as his wings bent and twisted. "Mot!" The stallions spun and twisted away from him as he was carried away. Shapes and figures blurred into an endless whirl of motion. A pale white form began galloping along the cliff. The others stayed, a silver shape leaping up the mountain and disappearing above him. "Mom!" The word screamed through Mot's head. Each hoof struck out, frantically clawing at the air. Pain lit down his side, his wings twisting and wrenching out from his shoulders. "Mommy!" He kicked and found the cliff suddenly at his side. Pounding hooves on the trail met his ears before he was pitched down, the wind scraping him against the mountain and the sparse twigs and bushes that grew out of the crags. He dug his hooves into the dirt, gritting his teeth. "Mo-" Pressure burst around the front of his neck. Long, flat teeth dug into his fur and bunched his shoulders, hauling him out of the air. His wings buckle and more earth hits him, biting into his legs and pressing flat against his belly. Roajel stood over Mottled Shadow. His eyes glinted in the pale moonlight as Silver Vice turned away. Pool and Knight Soul peered from a distance, still at their post by the water fall. A few mares and foals trickled out of the cave to see Mottled Shadow shakily stand. A streak of black against the grey hills behind them went running up to Mot. His vision suddenly filled with soft fur and a tight arm around his shoulders. His hooves lifted off the ground with Dark Note's hug. "Are you okay?" Her face pulled away to peer down at him. "Were you hurt? Are you bleeding?" Narrowed eyes frantically searched through Mot's spotted coat. She pulled at his fur, tugged his tail, pressed every inch of his head for injury. Blood rushed to his ears and pounded just behind them, leaving him weary and dizzy. "Mom, I'm fine." He shoved her hooves away and fixed his mane, frowning. "I'm fine. I promise." Out of the corner of his eye, a pale blue colt clasped his hooves and mouthed the word mommy, rolling his eyes and falling to the floor. Color rushed to Mot's cheeks. "I'm not a little foal." Dark Note looked up to Roajel, standing politely by. "You are a foal though, and you could've been spotted." She growled the words to the stallion. Her voice dropped low, her ears pinned back. "Somepony should've been watching you." "He volunteered to come. I cannot be responsible for everything the foals do." "You didn't have to let him out of the cave." "You were right there, why didn't you protest?" "I thought you were going to be watching him." Sparks shot between them, their scrunched faces muzzle to muzzle. Mottled Shadow slunk away, his ears falling back. The rest of the ponies drew back into the cave as a shiver ran through the mountain. The distinctive blare of the horn sounded out, echoing across the valley and setting Mot's heart pounding. He shook his pounding head and picked his way back up the path, glancing behind him to the couple. Their voices almost drowned away the silence. Their ruthless king hissed down around them with the deafening sound of the horn. The train bulleted out of the tunnel, the air exploding out in a whirlwind of howling, streaming cyclones. It dispersed quickly, settling again in ambient silence. The short reprieve set off the couple. Dark Note whipped around, marching past Mot into the cave while Roajel turned his back and slowly trotted back down the path. Mottled Shadow watched his mother go. His mouth drew into a thin line, his eyes flicking from the stallion to the cave mouth and back. A low whine escaped him and he turned, galloping down the cliff. He opened his mouth to speak when Roajel's thick rumble cut him off, "Go back home, Mottled Shadow." He stopped short, his wings in mid shift. "B-but-" "Your mother doesn't want you following us... Me." His tall white head almost glowed in the moonlight, centered before that brilliant pale orb that glinted around him and shined in Mot's eyes. He dared a glance up to see that ghostly pale face marred with a growing purple mark. With each passing minute, the bruise seemed to grow until it covered Roajel's swollen cheek. A pair of grey eyes met Mot's for an instant and he paused, turning away. "Your mom's right, I can't keep a proper eye on you. It's too dangerous for you to be out here. You can't even fly right." A star twinkled above them, shooting across the deep black canvas. Mottled Shadow watched it veer away and disappear into space. He let his head sink down, looking over the rocks and stones. He scraped his hoof over a pebble and kicked it down the mountain. It clinked against another and shifted again, sliding down with a soft, quiet whoosh of sound. Roajel moved to step forward. He frowned and watched the colt out of the corner of his eye, brow softening. With a sigh, he turned and pressed gently on Mot's shoulder. "Hey, I'm proud of you." Their eyes met, grey against blue. "You managed to catch some air." He grined and lifted his chin, ears perking. "Maybe tomorrow night we can practice flying?" "Really?" Mot gasped, leaping up. His hooves braced on Roajel's chest and his face light up. "You mean it?" "Sure." He tousled the youngster's mane. "But tonight, you'd best not upset your mom." He let him down and turned to the cave, blushing softly. "I don't wanna rock the boat." He chuckled nervously. "I'll go and bring you back some roots to munch on and you go sweet talk your mother for me. Maybe she'll let you come after you've had some wing lessons." He winked and started back down the path. Mottled Shadow leaped up, flapping his wings and scrambling back toward the cave. "Mom, Mom!" His whispers shouted through the soft wind. His grin brightened the whole side of the mountain. Falling Leaves"Mommy!" The little blue colt hopped about the cave, his hushed voice straining in mock terror. "Mommy, help me." He grabbed at his throat and spun about. The cave was alight with mischief as the mares ushered their foals to the mouth of the cave for some much needed air, but this colt fluttered away from the group toward the cave left where another young pony sat with ears flattened against his head. Stream shook his head and shuddered the thin little wings on his back, flaring them out and feigning fright. "I can't fly, help me mommy." He jeered again. Mottled Shadow watched from where he was perched. Muzzle wrinkled, he had no where to turn but to the colt. Stream laughed in his gruff voice and flew over, doing flips in the air and twisting about. Gusts drew up around them and scattered dust and stones through the cave. It was sucked inside to blow out around the ponies collected at the front and a chorus of groans and spits came from them. Not bothering to notice, Stream flew his way to Mot's shelf against the cliff. He struck out a hoof to jab the poor colt in the shoulder. "Why do you even have wings if you can't use them?" "So I can do this." Mot struck out a wing, smacking Stream in the jaw and sending him tumbling back down. Before he could get up, Mot glided to the floor and trotted down the rocky path toward the divide. "Stupid little..." He grunted and walked along the ledge near the falls. Its crashing sound drowned away his hoofsteps the closer he came to it until he was directly beside it. A soft spray leaped through the air, collecting the stars so that it glittered brilliantly. The crisp, cool wind drifted about him and ruffled his fur, the million tiny droplets sinking down to his skin and cooling him. He shivered slightly, relishing the feeling. The air was clearer here, fresh and untainted. He sat on the cold rocks and breathed in the fresh air. The night moved around him. It swayed with the sighing of the wind, the distant rustle of the trees, the crashing of the waterfall. The pool down below flowed away into some great river he knew he would never find the end of. It snaked its way into the forest and disappeared. The stars above glared brighter and the moonlight grew harsher. Mottled Shadow opened his eyes and stretched, standing and looking around. The moon was beginning to fade as the light of the sun just barely touched the horizon. It stretched across the sky, now only a faint haze of light. Broken from his stupor, he stood and started back toward the mouth of the cave and wondered if the stallions returned from their hunt. Pausing, he turned to look when a shadow caught his eye. He whipped around and looked up the mountain to a sHort divide in the path. One led back the way he came and the other curved sharply into the mountain, twisting and angling up. The figure disappeared into the tunnel just as his eyes caught it. Mot turned, his ears perked. He had never taken this path before. It twisted into the rock and curved in a sharp incline, delving into a thick darkness that even the moon could not reach. Cautiously, he tipped his head forward and took a few steps. Dank, musty air drifted softly across his face as he moved, the ends of his fur dampening as it brushed against the narrow rock. Climbing further into abject darkness, he relied on the shivering of each strand of hair to guide him through until a faint sliver of moonlight came into view. The rumbling of the massive metal monster disturbed the stone around him and the tunnel quaked. Loose rock rained down upon him as the train shot out so close he could almost feel the bout of wind it threw out. He bolted, tearing into his shoulder as he clawed his way out of the almost collapsing tunnel and onto a short shelf of a cliff edge. It was barely large enough for two ponies and the moonlight slanted against it in a way that cast shadow over the very end. It narrowed out to the side and jumped up. There, the bright green canopy blossomed into sight. In the last stretches of moonlight, he saw it. The tall, twisted trunk bursting from the stone. Its thin, drooping limbs. Roots that struck out of the ground and dived back through the earth to pass through the cave below it and shelter the ponies it helped sustain. The Giving Tree. His mother had always told him of the mighty Giving Tree, its magic sustaining the colony in the short winter months when food was scarce. It struck out from the ground, bush like leaves surrounding it nearly to the bottom and twisting limbs, some stretching, barren, into the Black night sky. A few shriveled, dull yellow apples hung limp from the branches, surrounded in the same brown, orange leaves that coated the floor. Mottled Shadow stared at the strange bush-like tree until the figure within its canopy came into view. "Silver Vice?" The batpony froze and whipped around. The hairs along his shoulders stood on end until his eyes rested on Mot. They instantly relaxed and a quivering grin split his face. "Oh, Mottled Shadow. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" He shifted his weight, turning to look up at the tree. Mottled Shadow followed his gaze, cocking his head to the side. "Mom hasn't called me in yet." Looking up at the wide orange canopy, he spotted a few green apples clinging to its branches. His stomach churned uneasily and his ears fell back. "Th-the apples shouldn't be ready. Not for a while. Right?" He stepped back, shifting his wings. "Oh, it won't be too long, I don't think." Vice nodded and turned from the colt. The trunk stretched tall above him, the limbs striking out above and twisting down. It enveloped the trunk as though it would draw the ponies in to it. Those arms waved gently in the wind. Leaves whispered to them, pushing Mottled Shadow closer to the ledge and urging Silver Vice closer to its base. "Perhaps now, Mot. Are you hungry?" The very word set off a rumbling in his belly that was almost audible. Ears snapping back, he shifted his wings around him and edged toward his elder. "I think Roajel and them would be back by now. He... He promised me some dry roots." A quiver ran through his body as the wind gusted and rattled through the leaves around them. A few took to the breeze and drifted away. "I-I'll share them with you. If you like." Grey eyes cast down to the floor and a twisted smile crossed his face. "Roots," he breathed heavily, nodding his head. "Very well. Roots." They passed each other briefly as Mot sat rooted to the spot. Their coats brushed and through it Mottled Shadow could feel the strain in his abdomen, the slight bulge of his fur beneath his ribs. A low, squeal sounded off between them. As the stallion disappeared through the tunnel, Mottled Shadow again turned his gaze to the tree. Another leaf dislodged and drifted away from its branch, casting out into the wind and fluttering away out of sight. The moon dipped down below the horizon beyond it and the stars gradually faded from the sky. With its last stretches of light, he turned his back on the cliff and braved the pitch darkness of the tunnel once more. Author's Note This page is terribly late. I apologize to anyone who may have been waiting. Encouragement is greatly appreciated.
Silence ReignsDarkness hung about the mountain like a thick blanket. It enveloped all in its ink coated fingers and stained the world black. Hazy lights in the distance peered weekly through its coat but could not penetrate it. The railroad tracks that wove up the mountain occasionally lit as the train went hurtling through, shaking the ground and sending hundreds of stones hurtling down to the bottom. As the massive machine shot away into the caves toward the city at the top, its bleached white light tore away to guide the train home. The rumbling of the tracks and the loud electric squeal of its wheels soon faded, leaving the darkness to creep in upon the world once more. The chugging of the machine drifted away and silence swelled to fill the space. Midnight creatures, startled by the appearance of the locomotive, hesitantly poked their heads of of the shadows. They crept back to their homes and settled down; daring not to disturb the silence that quickly took hold. Shaking and peering out timidly, they again found their burrows and concealed themselves in night. Thus the forest quieted and thus the world became still. Hours ticked away and again came that dreaded horn. It blasted out of the cave, amplified by it and sending creatures skittering and bolting away. Light bleached the bottom of the mountain as it hurtled toward the distant cities beyond. The entire mountain seemed to rumble with the force of its entrance. Deep down around the bend, woven into a crevice above the trees, the force was powerful. Rocks shook loose from the ceilings. Stalactites threatened to fall down upon the ponies cowering inside the cave. Hushed whispers and soft, motherly coos alike ran out from the crowd as they huddled in their brief reprieve from the cold embrace of silence. The faint traces of the train's headlight managed to wrap around and stain the inside walls of the cave before pulling away and disappearing into the night. As darkness settled once more, silence took hold and hushed the small crowd. Foals hugged close to their mothers and stallions settled at the mouth of the cave. Breathing in a collective sigh of relief, the ponies went about their night. Restless, for now was not their time to sleep. With the train away, the stallions picked themselves up and moved toward the mouth of the cave. Keen slit eyes peered out into the blackness as the edged out onto the thin, scraggly ledge before the cave. Careful hooves gently placed themselves along the path so that the silence was undisturbed. The two of them moved swiftly across the stone. Down below them was an expanse of open fields and a thin line of trees. Old paths led through the hills, now barren and soft with grass. Once the valley was filled with trees. A massive forest that provided the ponies with cover and security. Long ago, the forest had been sliced away as more and more ponies expanded about Equestria. The ones that remained continued on with only the thin line of woods that harbored the night's creatures. Black figures leaped up the mountain to a short, smaller cave above. A fire flickered in the darkness, popping and crackling but never threatening the ever present silence. As the two descended upon the fire, large black cloaks wrapped about themselves, they came upon three familiar faces. From the shadows behind them a figure watched as the five began their meeting. "Silver Vice," a small, elderly pony raised his black muzzle to the newcomers. His hushed voice filled with age, he peered forth through distant, hazy blue eyes and frowned at the silver stallion he addressed. "You've been to the woods tonight?" Silver Vice turned his head away as he took his place among them. "There was no food." "There's never been food." A dark purple mare added from beside the elder. Her own voice, hushed and daring not to disturb the ambient silence, shook with age. "Never since they took the trees away." "We cannot help that, Cysgod." Roajel's thick voice hushed her quickly. "We cannot say what the sun ponies do with their Equestria." "I remember a tale from when Equestria was ours." Silver Vice lifted an old, cracked clay cup to his lips. "We were gods among the lesser kinds. Feared and respected." The elder leaned back against the stone he used as a stool. "We are not to be feared." The mighty kind around them cringed at the break in its reign and rushed back, filling the fire with its stillness and weighing down upon the circle. After the elder's rough voice, it snatched them all with its firm grip. Continuing on, quieter, he eyed them all with a stern frown, "we are not brutes or savages. We were never meant to be and under my rule we never will be feared." The fire popped and the group lowered their muzzles to their leader. "Roajel, how are the food stores?" The massive white stallion that entered with Silver Vice raised his ghostly head. "There are many insects for tonight but that cannot get them through the rest of the season." He shook his head. "Falinn and I have searched the whole wood for food. We managed to dig up some roots and nuts but the floor is still bare from our last gather." He looks over to his friend, running a pale white hoof across his arm. "Our food is running low." "We all know what this means," Cysgod chimed in, her eyes closed. "With food so low..." Her vibrant purple eyes almost glowed through the dark as they lifted up to meet Silver Vice's. "We must visit the Giving Tree." Silence reared back and fell heavily across the council. Not even the fire dared to spark a sound. Alarmed faces peered about but nopony said a word. "You can't!" A tiny voice peeped from the shadows of the crevice. The council jumped at the sound and looked over to find a small frame clinging to the side of the mountain. Glowing blue eyes stared up at them, wide and wondrous as the colt hung to the scraggly cliff. The pale moonlight glowed about his mottled grey coat and midnight blue mane. The black cloak at his sides hung still and taut. Mottled Shadow was eavesdropping on the council. He cringed as five pairs of eyes stared curiously, some irritated, down at him. A low rumble came in the distance, growing steadily louder. Pebbles loosened from the edge of the cliff and cascaded down beneath the colt's feet. Stark white light grew upon the mountain and bleached its side in hazy white light. It drew near, glowing brighter. Deep trembles ran through the cliff and knocked the colt off balance. He gave a small gasp and leaped forward. All at once the cloak wrapped neatly around him unfurled. Long black strips flung out from his body, sweeping away from his shoulder blades and pulling taut. With a grunt of effort they fanned the air and propelled him along; two long, thin bat wings. Another beat and he made it up to the elders' cave just as the light grew brightest. A proud grin drew across his face. Wind filled his wings and threatened to snatch him back out across the cave but the adult jumped forth. Silver Vice reached the colt first, taking him by the cuff and snatching him out of the air. His thin wings folded sloppily and he was thrown to the floor beside the fire, hitting it roughly in time to feel the train go rushing into the mountain. "Mot, you idiot." Silver Vice growled darkly. "You will not pull such a stunt again!" He advanced toward him, cut off by the mares. They rushed to the colt's side, helping him up and tuck in his wings. The leathery cloak around him once more, Mottled Shadow coughed away the dust. "That was very dangerous," Roajel frowned, his ears perked. "A pony might have spot you." "From this side of the mountain? I doubt it." Cysgod rolled her eyes and dusted Mottled Shadow off. "The light is the problem. That blasted train." "The food is the problem tonight." Falinn interjected, pulling the young one beside her, Mottled Shadow gratefully took the seat and tucked his tail in neatly, looking around the fire. "That's why we need to visit the Tree." Mottled Shadow's ears fell back. "Has it ripened early?" He peeped, peering past Falinn's protective hooves. Everypony turned in his direction, their eyes glowing in the night. He gulped audibly and shrank away against the mare. "W-well, I thought... I just knew that the tree couldn't be picked from until it was ripe." "What do you know?" Silver Vice sneered, muzzle wrinkling. "Should we really be discussing this before the foal?" "He does have a point," Roajel interjected. He raised a hoof and ran it through his streaked grey mane. His own cloak-like wings shifted around himself. "The tree is a gift of our Goddess; we cannot disobey its rules." Falinn nodded and the two folded their hooves. "It feeds us throughout every season but when it goes dormant we cannot pick the fruit until it has ripened." "Irul Valkkai, will you really take the side of some colt?" Silver stamped his hoof. "We need food now and that tree is our only hope. We may starve before it decides when it wants to feed us." Ears back, wings slowly releasing, Silver Vice lowered his head and snarled the words. "We can't let the tree decide when it's best for the colony to feed." The elder, Irul Valkkai, lifted his hoof for silence but it was beaten back by Falinn's interjection; "if we pick from it now it will die!" "Says who?" Cysgod frowned thoughtfully. "Our Goddess has been away for thosands of years." "She came back." Roajel's eyes narrowed. "And has she yet said any word on the tree?" Silver Vice shook his head to emphasize his point. "She brings us food but her visits are far inbetween and unpredictable. We cannot rely on her any longer. We must act now. The apples won't be as sweet but they will keep our foals fed." With a gesture to Mottled Shadow, the colt shrank, blushing at the attention now on him. "The tree is laced with the Goddess's magic, Silver Vice. Magic has rules." He laughed, his voice always hushed, and shook his head. With a small, sideways grin, he stared down at Falinn and the colt. "It's simply a tree, my friend. Nothing more." "A tree that has survived thousands of years, thousands of storms and thunders and fire. It feeds throughout the year so long as we preserve it." Irul Valkkai's words hushed the bickering council. "We will not go against the wishes of our Goddess, no matter what." "It's too risky," Falinn piped in. A single glance silenced her. The eldest went on, "No matter what." His eyes landed on Silver Vice. "But-" "This meeting is over." Irul Valkkai stood on his shaky old hooves and nodded. With a single swipe of his wing, the fire disappeared into hundreds of glowing coals. A dark hoof, now indistinguishable from the night's shadows, pressed against Mottled Shadow and led him back down to the cave.
Crumbling CliffsDarkness crept over the hills, peeking its head over their crests to bathe the mountain side in its pale glow. The warm sunlight was replaced with the cold kiss of night. The water that cascaded down from the rocky ceiling glistened under the moon's caress and pooled at the base in a rippling mirror filled with stars and sparkles. As the warm wind of fall became cold and crisp, the mountain came to life. Animals picked themselves out of their burrows while their neighbors began to settle down. Owls opened their glowing amber eyes and gave the short crop of woods its first song of the evening. With the last stretches of dusk slipping away along the opposite horizon, a pair of bright blue eyes poked out of the mouth of a cave up on the mountain. The pair were followed by a grey and black head and a mess of curly blue hair. Mottled Shadow stepped out onto the lip of the cliff and peered down over the valley. It seemed to stretch on into forever before him. He could almost reach out and touch the breast of the moon as it slowly made its ascent across the midnight sky. A canvas filled with twinkling stars and brilliant stretches of color opened up above him. Mot sat and soaked in the image, filling his breath with the sharp breeze about the cave. The world shattered beneath a large horn. It blared out from within the bowels of the mountain before the distinct rumble of earth. A dragged, weary groan came from behind him and the distinctive sound of rocks clattering against the stone floor followed. Stalactites quivered, Mot's heart shook with the force, even the stars seemed to shift as the great locomotive whipped out of the tunnel around the bend and went zooming off into the night, its distinct stark light being forced out and then torn away in the same instant. The mountain settled again and the ambient silence around them, the ponies' ever present king, came about them like a familiar blanket. With a careful sigh and a short frown, Mottled Shadow picked himself up and turned back to the cave. The adults moved from their nests to wandering about the cave. They chatted quietly with themselves as the foals romped about. A little silver filly went running from a colt with sunset orange fur. While they romped, the colt's mother looked on with a frown. She sat perched atop a shelf along the cave wall. Her hooves tucked under her pale breast, she watched her foal with a quirk in her smile and a fallen ear. As the two drew close to the edge, her swift, thin wings snapped out and carried her to them. "Don't get too close," she ushered the two back, receiving small groans from the young ones. "To the back of the cave; get." Her wings wrapped around the golden colt and ushered him away. "Evening Rose," a black mare pushed at the pony's wings, freeing the foal to run back to his friend. "He's going to be okay if you just let him be." "That's easy for you to say." Her eyes narrowed and her frown drew. "Mot's two shades of grey. He isn't going to stand out." "Roar's had seven years to stand out." Her friend rolled her eyes. "I don't see any angry mobs at our cliff." Mottled Shadow stepped around the bend to peer at the adults. His gaze shifted down to Roar as he went galloping away from the laughing silver filly. With his ears perked, he observed the colt. The dark wings pulled tight against his dark orange body, his bright gold mane. The color of the sunset. "I don't see anything wrong with him." His eyes flicked back toward his mother. Dark Note gave a start and pinned her ears back. Evening Rose looked around, her brow furrowing. "Oh, Mot, uhm..." "Of course there's nothing wrong with Roar." Dark Note stepped toward him and drew him in. "He's a bright little colt and he's going to do great things. I know it." She put a hoof down on her son and drew him in. "You mean leading the same useless existence we all do?" The three looked up to a scowling grey face. "She means by helping the Colony to thrive!" Evening Rose snapped, her ears flying back. "That's-" "-all we can do." Another stallion approached, standing mirror image to Silver Vice. The two shared colors, both proud heads lifting high. "What other purpose do any of us have?" "Being ourselves, for one." Dark Note's muzzle scrunched. Silver Vice rolled his eyes. "Oh please, after you discover your cutie mark, there's nothing left to live for." "I never want to find mine." The silver filly threw her head into the circle and beamed up at the adults. Her violet eyes fell around Mot and color flushed to her cheeks. "I want to be free forever." "Mirror," a dark blue stallion drew her in. "Finding your cutie mark is a beautiful process. It's discovering who you are. The deepest parts of you." "And then sitting on that for the rest of your life while you waste away in this cave." "Silver Vice!" The mares snapped. "Well it's true." His white tail flicked behind him. Stepping away, he let his wings slip out and trail dramatically across the floor. Mottled Shadow followed him across to the mouth of the cave. "You can't pretend we live in some perfect world. Dark Note, when was the last time I heard you sing?" The two of them met gazes. "Some of us get lucky. We're blessed with talents we can use. That we can exhibit. But Evening Rose, what was the last flower you so much as saw?" His back arched as he turned, the sound of his hoofstep drowning away in the blaring of the horn. Blinding white light bleaching the hills around them and snapping away in a split second. Pebbles on the floor rattled and the world shivered under the weight of the train. Silence settled around them again, hanging over their heads with the rush of the river and the cooing of night birds in the distance. "We're so busy worrying about keeping secret that we never even bother to wonder why we're a secret in the first place." A hoof pressed against Mot's shoulder. He let himself be pulled into his mother's chest and brushed his cheek against her soft fur. His head slowly fell and he stared down at the rocks at his hooves. "Well... Why are we a secret?" Mirror lifted her hoof and stomped it back down. "I mean... There's all those fields right there. All those hills. Why are we in this cave when there's so much space?" "Because we have to protect ourselves." Roajel trotted toward the cliff. Behind him were two other stallions. "Pool, we're going to hunt, care to join?" His pale hoof extended to the navy stallion. "Why hunt when we have a steady supply of food just above our heads?" Silver rolled his eyes and turned away, trotting out into the autumn breeze. A wisp of his tail caught in the wind disappeared down the side of the mountain. Mottled Shadow looked up to see the stallions sidestep him for the cliff. "Can I come?" Cysgod's short, raspy voice chimed in from deeper inside the cave. "Why not let him? The colt's got nothing else to aspire to." Roajel and Pool shot the cranky old mare a quick look. "You two didn't when you were his age." She shrugged and peeled off from the wall to wander deeper down to talk with the mares. "I don't see why he can't." Roajel extended a long, dark wing and laid it gently across Mottled Shadow's shoulders. "So long as you promise to do exactly as we say." There was a rumble to his voice that stirred Mot's heart. He puffed out his chest and raised his chin, bright blue eyes flashing excitedly. "I promise." Ears as perked as they could be, Mottled Shadow gave a hop and went scampering outside the cliff, clambering over rocks and stones to catch up to the other ponies. They wrapped around the mountain toward the waterfall. Its great tumbling roar grew louder and a thin spray of cool mist clung to Mot's fur. It trickled down to chill his skin. He shivered at the water's touch and shied away, giving the fall as much girth as he could. Loose stones shifted under his hooves and trickled down the side. They clicked audibly, some disappearing into the grassy bottom below. A loud, hissing shift burst out from under Mot's hooves. Rocks gave way and went tumbling down the mountain. There was a pitch in gravity as the earth fell away beneath him and Mot scrambled toward the cliffside. Stomach churning, head reeling, everything in him tensed as he skid down across the edge. His eyes screwed shut and his wings snapped open, filling with air and tearing him away from the cliff. The autumn wind kicked up around him and tossed him back, throwing him away from the others. Mottled Shadow kicked and spun. Frantic huffs escaped him as his wings bent and twisted. "Mot!" The stallions spun and twisted away from him as he was carried away. Shapes and figures blurred into an endless whirl of motion. A pale white form began galloping along the cliff. The others stayed, a silver shape leaping up the mountain and disappearing above him. "Mom!" The word screamed through Mot's head. Each hoof struck out, frantically clawing at the air. Pain lit down his side, his wings twisting and wrenching out from his shoulders. "Mommy!" He kicked and found the cliff suddenly at his side. Pounding hooves on the trail met his ears before he was pitched down, the wind scraping him against the mountain and the sparse twigs and bushes that grew out of the crags. He dug his hooves into the dirt, gritting his teeth. "Mo-" Pressure burst around the front of his neck. Long, flat teeth dug into his fur and bunched his shoulders, hauling him out of the air. His wings buckle and more earth hits him, biting into his legs and pressing flat against his belly. Roajel stood over Mottled Shadow. His eyes glinted in the pale moonlight as Silver Vice turned away. Pool and Knight Soul peered from a distance, still at their post by the water fall. A few mares and foals trickled out of the cave to see Mottled Shadow shakily stand. A streak of black against the grey hills behind them went running up to Mot. His vision suddenly filled with soft fur and a tight arm around his shoulders. His hooves lifted off the ground with Dark Note's hug. "Are you okay?" Her face pulled away to peer down at him. "Were you hurt? Are you bleeding?" Narrowed eyes frantically searched through Mot's spotted coat. She pulled at his fur, tugged his tail, pressed every inch of his head for injury. Blood rushed to his ears and pounded just behind them, leaving him weary and dizzy. "Mom, I'm fine." He shoved her hooves away and fixed his mane, frowning. "I'm fine. I promise." Out of the corner of his eye, a pale blue colt clasped his hooves and mouthed the word mommy, rolling his eyes and falling to the floor. Color rushed to Mot's cheeks. "I'm not a little foal." Dark Note looked up to Roajel, standing politely by. "You are a foal though, and you could've been spotted." She growled the words to the stallion. Her voice dropped low, her ears pinned back. "Somepony should've been watching you." "He volunteered to come. I cannot be responsible for everything the foals do." "You didn't have to let him out of the cave." "You were right there, why didn't you protest?" "I thought you were going to be watching him." Sparks shot between them, their scrunched faces muzzle to muzzle. Mottled Shadow slunk away, his ears falling back. The rest of the ponies drew back into the cave as a shiver ran through the mountain. The distinctive blare of the horn sounded out, echoing across the valley and setting Mot's heart pounding. He shook his pounding head and picked his way back up the path, glancing behind him to the couple. Their voices almost drowned away the silence. Their ruthless king hissed down around them with the deafening sound of the horn. The train bulleted out of the tunnel, the air exploding out in a whirlwind of howling, streaming cyclones. It dispersed quickly, settling again in ambient silence. The short reprieve set off the couple. Dark Note whipped around, marching past Mot into the cave while Roajel turned his back and slowly trotted back down the path. Mottled Shadow watched his mother go. His mouth drew into a thin line, his eyes flicking from the stallion to the cave mouth and back. A low whine escaped him and he turned, galloping down the cliff. He opened his mouth to speak when Roajel's thick rumble cut him off, "Go back home, Mottled Shadow." He stopped short, his wings in mid shift. "B-but-" "Your mother doesn't want you following us... Me." His tall white head almost glowed in the moonlight, centered before that brilliant pale orb that glinted around him and shined in Mot's eyes. He dared a glance up to see that ghostly pale face marred with a growing purple mark. With each passing minute, the bruise seemed to grow until it covered Roajel's swollen cheek. A pair of grey eyes met Mot's for an instant and he paused, turning away. "Your mom's right, I can't keep a proper eye on you. It's too dangerous for you to be out here. You can't even fly right." A star twinkled above them, shooting across the deep black canvas. Mottled Shadow watched it veer away and disappear into space. He let his head sink down, looking over the rocks and stones. He scraped his hoof over a pebble and kicked it down the mountain. It clinked against another and shifted again, sliding down with a soft, quiet whoosh of sound. Roajel moved to step forward. He frowned and watched the colt out of the corner of his eye, brow softening. With a sigh, he turned and pressed gently on Mot's shoulder. "Hey, I'm proud of you." Their eyes met, grey against blue. "You managed to catch some air." He grined and lifted his chin, ears perking. "Maybe tomorrow night we can practice flying?" "Really?" Mot gasped, leaping up. His hooves braced on Roajel's chest and his face light up. "You mean it?" "Sure." He tousled the youngster's mane. "But tonight, you'd best not upset your mom." He let him down and turned to the cave, blushing softly. "I don't wanna rock the boat." He chuckled nervously. "I'll go and bring you back some roots to munch on and you go sweet talk your mother for me. Maybe she'll let you come after you've had some wing lessons." He winked and started back down the path. Mottled Shadow leaped up, flapping his wings and scrambling back toward the cave. "Mom, Mom!" His whispers shouted through the soft wind. His grin brightened the whole side of the mountain.
Falling Leaves"Mommy!" The little blue colt hopped about the cave, his hushed voice straining in mock terror. "Mommy, help me." He grabbed at his throat and spun about. The cave was alight with mischief as the mares ushered their foals to the mouth of the cave for some much needed air, but this colt fluttered away from the group toward the cave left where another young pony sat with ears flattened against his head. Stream shook his head and shuddered the thin little wings on his back, flaring them out and feigning fright. "I can't fly, help me mommy." He jeered again. Mottled Shadow watched from where he was perched. Muzzle wrinkled, he had no where to turn but to the colt. Stream laughed in his gruff voice and flew over, doing flips in the air and twisting about. Gusts drew up around them and scattered dust and stones through the cave. It was sucked inside to blow out around the ponies collected at the front and a chorus of groans and spits came from them. Not bothering to notice, Stream flew his way to Mot's shelf against the cliff. He struck out a hoof to jab the poor colt in the shoulder. "Why do you even have wings if you can't use them?" "So I can do this." Mot struck out a wing, smacking Stream in the jaw and sending him tumbling back down. Before he could get up, Mot glided to the floor and trotted down the rocky path toward the divide. "Stupid little..." He grunted and walked along the ledge near the falls. Its crashing sound drowned away his hoofsteps the closer he came to it until he was directly beside it. A soft spray leaped through the air, collecting the stars so that it glittered brilliantly. The crisp, cool wind drifted about him and ruffled his fur, the million tiny droplets sinking down to his skin and cooling him. He shivered slightly, relishing the feeling. The air was clearer here, fresh and untainted. He sat on the cold rocks and breathed in the fresh air. The night moved around him. It swayed with the sighing of the wind, the distant rustle of the trees, the crashing of the waterfall. The pool down below flowed away into some great river he knew he would never find the end of. It snaked its way into the forest and disappeared. The stars above glared brighter and the moonlight grew harsher. Mottled Shadow opened his eyes and stretched, standing and looking around. The moon was beginning to fade as the light of the sun just barely touched the horizon. It stretched across the sky, now only a faint haze of light. Broken from his stupor, he stood and started back toward the mouth of the cave and wondered if the stallions returned from their hunt. Pausing, he turned to look when a shadow caught his eye. He whipped around and looked up the mountain to a sHort divide in the path. One led back the way he came and the other curved sharply into the mountain, twisting and angling up. The figure disappeared into the tunnel just as his eyes caught it. Mot turned, his ears perked. He had never taken this path before. It twisted into the rock and curved in a sharp incline, delving into a thick darkness that even the moon could not reach. Cautiously, he tipped his head forward and took a few steps. Dank, musty air drifted softly across his face as he moved, the ends of his fur dampening as it brushed against the narrow rock. Climbing further into abject darkness, he relied on the shivering of each strand of hair to guide him through until a faint sliver of moonlight came into view. The rumbling of the massive metal monster disturbed the stone around him and the tunnel quaked. Loose rock rained down upon him as the train shot out so close he could almost feel the bout of wind it threw out. He bolted, tearing into his shoulder as he clawed his way out of the almost collapsing tunnel and onto a short shelf of a cliff edge. It was barely large enough for two ponies and the moonlight slanted against it in a way that cast shadow over the very end. It narrowed out to the side and jumped up. There, the bright green canopy blossomed into sight. In the last stretches of moonlight, he saw it. The tall, twisted trunk bursting from the stone. Its thin, drooping limbs. Roots that struck out of the ground and dived back through the earth to pass through the cave below it and shelter the ponies it helped sustain. The Giving Tree. His mother had always told him of the mighty Giving Tree, its magic sustaining the colony in the short winter months when food was scarce. It struck out from the ground, bush like leaves surrounding it nearly to the bottom and twisting limbs, some stretching, barren, into the Black night sky. A few shriveled, dull yellow apples hung limp from the branches, surrounded in the same brown, orange leaves that coated the floor. Mottled Shadow stared at the strange bush-like tree until the figure within its canopy came into view. "Silver Vice?" The batpony froze and whipped around. The hairs along his shoulders stood on end until his eyes rested on Mot. They instantly relaxed and a quivering grin split his face. "Oh, Mottled Shadow. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" He shifted his weight, turning to look up at the tree. Mottled Shadow followed his gaze, cocking his head to the side. "Mom hasn't called me in yet." Looking up at the wide orange canopy, he spotted a few green apples clinging to its branches. His stomach churned uneasily and his ears fell back. "Th-the apples shouldn't be ready. Not for a while. Right?" He stepped back, shifting his wings. "Oh, it won't be too long, I don't think." Vice nodded and turned from the colt. The trunk stretched tall above him, the limbs striking out above and twisting down. It enveloped the trunk as though it would draw the ponies in to it. Those arms waved gently in the wind. Leaves whispered to them, pushing Mottled Shadow closer to the ledge and urging Silver Vice closer to its base. "Perhaps now, Mot. Are you hungry?" The very word set off a rumbling in his belly that was almost audible. Ears snapping back, he shifted his wings around him and edged toward his elder. "I think Roajel and them would be back by now. He... He promised me some dry roots." A quiver ran through his body as the wind gusted and rattled through the leaves around them. A few took to the breeze and drifted away. "I-I'll share them with you. If you like." Grey eyes cast down to the floor and a twisted smile crossed his face. "Roots," he breathed heavily, nodding his head. "Very well. Roots." They passed each other briefly as Mot sat rooted to the spot. Their coats brushed and through it Mottled Shadow could feel the strain in his abdomen, the slight bulge of his fur beneath his ribs. A low, squeal sounded off between them. As the stallion disappeared through the tunnel, Mottled Shadow again turned his gaze to the tree. Another leaf dislodged and drifted away from its branch, casting out into the wind and fluttering away out of sight. The moon dipped down below the horizon beyond it and the stars gradually faded from the sky. With its last stretches of light, he turned his back on the cliff and braved the pitch darkness of the tunnel once more. Author's Note This page is terribly late. I apologize to anyone who may have been waiting. Encouragement is greatly appreciated.
