Common Misconceptions of the Equine Bat
Common Misconceptions of the Equine Bat
Kicker, a journalist for the Fillydelphia Times, sat down on a worn green chair and stared at the typewriter on his desk. Nearby sat a large glass of black tea and a few pens, which were placed in no obvious order near a stack of plain white paper. As he heard the twelfth ring of the clock tower, Kicker was reminded of the dwindling amount of time he had left before his story was due. He didn't really mind though, as nighttime was the time he preferred to begin writing his articles. At night there was less distractions, and the fact that there wasn't any time left to procrastinate also made his decision to work much easier to agree upon.
After retrieving his notepad, he returned to his typewriter. The room was barren of any sound other then the ticking of the clock in the room. Kicker opened his notepad to the first page and then began to type, transferring what he wrote in his notes onto the blank paper in the typewriter. "Monsters of the night". He frowned and tore the paper out of the typewriter. He barely started and already found his title soaked with unintentional bias.
He fed another sheet of blank paper into the machine and wrote, "Understanding The Perissodactyla Chiropteran". At the sight of the title, Kicker shook his head and crumpled up the paper. This was for the local paper, not a scientific journal! In frustration, the pony threw the paper ball toward the waste bin, but it collided with the wall to the right of it and landed shamefully on the floor, far from the target.
Once again, Kicker loaded another sheet of paper into the typewriter and thought about the title. Now he wished his life was more like the old comics he read when he was young, where a light bulb would magically appear over one's head, once an idea came to mind. He pressed the buttons on the typewriter, which in turn stamped letters onto the paper with an old fashioned clack. "Common Misconceptions of The Equine Bat" He stared at it for a minute. The title wasn't that bad, or at least didn't make him wish to play another round of waste bin basketball. Kicker sat up and stretched. After sipping some black tea, he began to write out his story.
"'Don't judge a book by its cover.' It would be hard to think of anypony who didn't have these words of wisdom etched in their minds since birth, but please allow me to elaborate on this phrase. It would be more fitting to say 'Don't judge a book by its cover, but by its sources'. There is not much known of the Batpony race, but contrary to what I believed a week before; they do exist. According to a small chapter in "Equestrian Myths and Folklore", the only book that mentioned these ponies, these mysterious creatures are just legend. Nothing more than a story a parent would have told their filly at bedtime. It also claimed these creatures were malevolent and should be avoided at all costs. Here is where I feel I must separate facts from fiction regarding the common misconceptions of the equine bat.
"Naturally as I am a journalist, I was asked to interview the local candy shop owner here in Fillydelphia about the increases in candy sales for the upcoming Nightmare Night. I finished my report and hastily headed home, but then decided to spare a moment to look up at the night sky. I found it rather difficult to admire Celestia's raising of the sun and moon with my new schedule taking effect, so I found it natural to desire taking a moment out of my busy schedule for sightseeing. Flying under the light of the moon, I spotted it. At first I thought it was a pegasi, but I noted that the wings looked entirely different, and it flew faster than the Wonderbolts."
Kicker looked at the last sentence for a moment and crossed out the later half. Once content, he continued on with the story. He wanted to portray what he thought, but the last sentence was not anywhere near factual. When it came to metaphors, it seemed that everything was faster than the Wonderbolts these days...He moved to begin typing again but then quickly read over the paragraph again. He groaned, "A dangling participle! I thought I was past that!" He knew a reader out there would think that he was the one that was flying under the moonlight instead of the bat pony. At least he caught it now, instead of watching his editor catch it later. Kicker continued after making the corrections.
"That is when I first spotted the bat pony, flying under the light of the moon. At first I thought it was a pegasi, but I noted that the wings looked entirely different. It sped towards the Everfree Forest, and was gone in just a few seconds. I knew something was different about this pony. After racing home and retrieving my equipment, I hustled towards the old forest in the last direction of the mysterious equine. The sight of the forest was as uninviting as the décor of a hospital room, but I pressed on, my fascination leading the way. As I crawled through the forest, time seemed to do the same.
" As one would suspect of an earth pony running through a forest at night with no direction in mind, I found myself lost within the hour. The forest was not a top notch tourist attraction, but when befalling the effects of exhaustion, anywhere seems like a nice place to sleep. For me, that nice place happened to be under a withered oak tree. The sound of nearby laughter awoke me from my attempt at sleeping. The moonlight gleamed through the foliage, seeming to be almost as bright as the sun during noontime. My attention was drawn toward the source of the sound, which seemed its loudest from somewhere behind the oak tree. I looked around and then spotted the source.
"A few yards away was two bat pony foals that were entailed in the midst of a riveting game of tag. Aside from the obvious difference of the wings, these bat ponies did not act any different than a colt or filly that I would have run into during Nightmare Night. Both of the children had grey colored coats. As for their tales and manes, I gathered that it was a shade of purple, but I couldn't be too sure as the only light came from the moon. A shadow flew overhead, causing me to crouch lower. A mare swooped in and landed near the foals.
"'Mama, why won't she come back yet?' I heard one of the children say.
"'It is not time yet. Nightmare Moon will call for our aid soon, my dears,' The mother said to the children as they stopped their game and began to draw something in the dirt, 'On the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape. And we will be ready to welcome her back.'
" I pondered for a moment at the meaning of the enigma I heard. Did bat ponies worship the moon? I was confused by the statement as I never had seen a moon on Nightmare Night, nor did I think that anypony would worship the moon. In other words, I could not find a correct interpretation for the strange conversation.
"Either way, I had it in mind to jot down what I heard the strange creatures say. I looked up and realized the mare was now half the distance away from me then a moment before, and she seemed to be searching for something. Perhaps she heard another woodland creature? I then wondered if she could have heard me, and with that thought, I emitted a quiet gasp out of fear. That insignificant sound, as I soon found out, was enough for the bat pony to lock onto my position. I did recall that bats were experts at hearing with echolocation, but I am under the impression that bat ponies are exceptional with both hearing and sight. What led me to that conclusion was seeing her rigid stare as I turned to run.
" The sound of high pitch squeaking increased from behind as I blindly ran through the dense forest. The bat pony began to throw rocks that landed harmlessly in the bushes that I ran by. Well, in reflection, I did not actually see who was throwing the rocks, nor did I see her actually pick up the rocks, but that seemed to be the most logical explanation. I sprinted the whole length back to the safety of Fillydelphia, losing the bat in the forest."
That wouldn't work. A fib that would be quickly caught by anyone that knew him lingered in the last sentence. Kicker crossed out the last sentence and started again.
"I sprinted for as long as I could, but knowing myself to be in the profession of journalism and not in derby racing, I was quickly exhausted by the chase. At that moment, likening myself to the great thinkers and detectives of our time, I dived into some bushes, hoping to trick the bat into losing my trail. This decision in retrospect also led me back to my humble roots and reminded me of the simple truth; I am a journalist, not a great thinker or detective. You see, I found it odd that a journalist like myself, hungering to bring about the truth, was now hiding from the story that I searched out. I'm sure you could have imagined my surprise as the target of my story ended up landing a few feet from the bush that I thought concealed me.
"As if I already wasn't under the impression that I was not welcome, my host thought it best to solidify her stance on my intrusion as she yelled, "REMOVE THYSELF FROM THIS PLACE!" I am aware of the fact that sentences shouldn't be completely capitalized, but one…let alone three exclamation marks would not have done the yell any justice. Well, as I found my hiding spot rather obsolete at that point, I quickly sat up and shook my head up and down really quickly. Then, as I felt we were at an understanding of the opinions at hoof, I bolted towards the nearest clearing which looked to be leading back to town."
The earth pony stretch and reread his last paragraph. After a moment he came to an agreement with a thought he had and continued writing… Besides, there was no real point to bother his readers with the trivial details about how he got lost on the way back and ended up trampling through some poison joke…or the fact that he screamed in fear as he backed towards an ominous looking branch on the outskirts of town.
"The city of Fillydelphia was the same as I had left it, but this time the desire to stop and stargaze was not evident. I found myself running home and looking for any defense that I could. Thanks to my guide to bat ponies, " Equestrian Myths and Folklore", I knew that these creatures could be staved off with relics of the sun and garlic. I found a plastic sun necklace I got at a convention from Trottingham and then ran outside with a box of pizza I procured from the fridge. I far as I know, I do not believe anyone would list Pizza as one of the items on their top ten defenses, but it was the only food in my house that had a trace of garlic in it. Besides, the necklace was there if the pizza plan failed. That night I slept in my bathroom with the door barred."
"Hmm…" Kicker said aloud as he read the last sentence he wrote. He was being truthful, but this just didn't feel right to him. Kicker looked around and quickly crossed out the last sentence with a hoofful of lines. He felt the keys under his hooves as he continued to type.
"As daylight crept into the corners of the sky, I decided to check to see if my defenses still stood. I hurried to the window as I heard the sound of something shuffling outside. Still being skeptical of the events which occurred the night before, I was under the impression my necklace was being taken by a local filly, and not a menacing, malevolent monster. A moment of panic filled me as I saw the bat pony looking through my window. The staring contest began. Aside from the fact that one of us, that being me, was constantly blinking, a staring contest was the perfect way to describe it. I inched toward my camera which lay nearby my typewriter. Once the bat pony realized my plan, she flew off, much to my dismay. It looked to be the same one I saw in the clearing. I believe it was observing if I really was a threat to her or her foals.
"I ran to the window, and saw what remained of my pizza. The cheap necklace was gone. Suddenly, I had a desire to return my one guide to bat ponies to the library. I would have, but there were more pressing items at hoof. After collecting all of my notes that involved the elusive race of bat ponies, I hurried toward the forest once again. I aspired to get at least one interview with the mischievous creatures. This time, I brought my camera along, hoping to get some photographic evidence as well.
"Nearing nightfall, I luckily stumbled across the clearing I had slept at the night before. I eagerly looked around, now regaining the energy that was sapped away by the countless hours I had of wandering through the forest again. There were odd runic symbols drawn onto the floor near a picture of the moon that was hoofdrawn in the moist dirt. After taking a few pictures of the symbols, I looked around for any other evidence of the trio I could find. In the mud there were four different groups of hoofprints which lead to the north. I figured that meant that the two bat pony foals must have walked to the clearing, and then walked back the same way.
"I pondered for a while if that meant that bat pony foals could not fly in their youth. In appearance, the bat pony did not seem that different from pegasi. Seeing the tracks from the flightless foals, I was reminded of a few local fillies or colts that I knew, which were still overcoming their own issues with flying or using magic. I then wondered why there was such a large rift between the bats and us earth, unicorn, and pegasus ponies.
"Around a half hour later, I came across what I first thought was a bear cave. After taking a photo of the surrounding area, I slowly crept toward the entrance. The cave had a large opening, but anything inside that lurked further then a few yards away was impossible to see. Instead of finding a sleeping bear in the cave as I had imagined, I found the cave to be actually very dry. It was not comforting to be in an unlit cave while knowing the sun was setting, so I pressed forward into the cave, hoping to explore most of it before it became too dark to see. Before I traveled too far into the cave, something outside caught my attention.
"I scrambled over to a boulder and peaked at the oncoming strangers. The sun was setting now, but there was still enough light to see what events were unfolding. Outside, there was the sound of a scuffle. I looked and saw two airborne creatures in combat. Upon further observations I realized that they both were bat ponies. One of the ponies broke off and flew directly toward me. If the bat pony had intentions to attack me, it couldn't have chosen a better time, as the sudden change of events rendered me motionless. Instead, the creature flew hastily above my head and into the cave, seemingly unaware of my presence. The other bat pony landed outside of the cave and slowly approached.
"This is when I first realized the difference between these bat ponies. The few I had seen earlier had noticeably yellow eyes, while the one that approached from outside had a bright red eyes and had a coat that looked to be a darker shade of grey. The bat pony's mane was black and was hard to distinguish from the shadows behind it. As I am new to the issues involving bat ponies, I am not sure of why the red-eyed bat pony was hostile towards its yellow-eyed brethren, but I came to the conclusion that these ponies are not united in their own race. To them, those subtle differences may be as different as a pegasus would be from a unicorn in our eyes.
"The newcomer continued to walk toward the cave entrance, regaining its strength as it still pursued the other pony. I was for a moment, lost with fascination. Were there more than two distinct types of bats? Were they carnivorous? As the thoughts raced through my head, I was filled with more confidence and felt compelled to get photographic evidence. I lifted up my camera and focused it on the approaching bat pony. A bright flash that emanated from my camera blinded the red-eyed bat, causing it to stumble. It shook its head as it regained its composure. Then, the bat pony spotted me for the first time.
"Either I was not contemplating the consequences for my decision, or at the time I thought the photo was worth the risk, but either way I look at it now, it was not the smartest thing to have done. In reality, I was not sure if the thing that angered the bat pony was the blinding flash, or the fact that I had taken a picture of it. The bat pony assumed an attack stance as is looked at me. It pounced and rapidly flew towards me. I then did the only thing I could to delay him. I took another picture.
"As the bat pony stumbled and crashed into the cave wall, I scampered away from the cave. The sounds of angered squeaks were easily heard from behind. I knew that it would catch up with me at any moment, so I scrambled into the thick of another bush. I was aware that this plan backfired once before, but I was under the impression that it would be able to fool this bat pony. Besides, I had seen this done in movies countless times.
"Within a minute, I saw the bat pony aloft in the sky, no doubt in search for me. It swooped out of sight and into the forest, only to emerge into view a few yards away from my hiding place. It sat down and then stared at me, almost bewildered at my futile hiding attempts. What I realized that night was that there was no real point in hiding from a bat pony.
"It was around this time that I realized that my camera was no longer with me. I was like a Royal Guard with no armor or weapon in sight. My heart skipped a beat as I realized my only defense was now gone. Another red-eyed bat pony flew overhead and uttered a few squeaks toward my pursuer and continued on toward the direction of the cave. The bat pony that was after me glared and hissed, showing it's fangs which gleamed in the moonlight. As I expected the worst, I watched as it quickly flew toward the cave, following after the other bat pony. I seized that opportunity as my chance to escape.
"There are many mysteries that surround the Bat Pony race. These misunderstood creatures are treated as myths, and lurk amongst many other mysteries that hide in the Everfree Forest. They are thought to be evil, but what I had seen showed me that the legends are not true. What I see are ponies that are no different than us, fighting for survival in their precarious environment. Perhaps one day in the near future, we will be able to discover more about these ponies. All I ask is that you give them a chance. Hopefully this article will be able to clear up one or more common misconceptions of the equine bat.
After Kicker finished his story about the candy store sales increase, he looked over the story he wrote about the bat ponies. He sighed as he looked over his notes. He learned barely anything about them. The bat pony can speak but usually refrains from it. It does not fear garlic or necklaces, and were mischievous. There were so many questions that were left unanswered. He went back to the cave a day later, but it was abandoned. Kicker also could not find his camera near the cave. In reality, there was no way for him to truly understand why the bat ponies were fighting that night. As he looked over his notes, he realized that there was another presence in the room.
"I wanted to thank thee for distracting the others, and allowing me to escape with my children." The bat pony mare that yelled at Kicker a few nights ago sat perched at the window. It was wearing his plastic sun necklace.
Kicker looked up at the bat pony and quickly stuttered, "'Y…You're welcome' , as he tried to gain his composure. It looked like he was finally going to get his interview! The journalist contained himself from trembling with excitement, and looked down and grabbed his notebook. "Can I you ask a few questions? It will only-" He looked up to find himself alone once again. Kicker galloped to the window and looked around, finally sitting down a moment later. He sighed as he put a hoof to his face, thinking about the opportunity that just vanished out the window.
Kicker's editor, Eddy, skimmed over the two stories that were dropped into the "Finished" tray. Eddy looked over the two stories in his hooves, and then looked up at Kicker.
"Yup," The chief editor chuckled, "you are definitely going places, kid."
"Sir?" said Kicker as he looked at the chief. The confusion in his tone was evident.
"Kicker, I know that you're not used to me being the new editor in chief here, but you won't be able to do things the way you did before…"
"What do you-"
"Look, in my hoof here is a story about an increase in candy sales…" Eddy looked at the article in his hoof. "It's clean, concise, and even has a cliché lead in quote."
"I'm sorry sir, I don't follow?"
"'A Sweet Increase' Here has sources! Your fictional piece here, 'Common Misconceptions', is not even written in an inverted pyramid format and sounds like an entry from your journal."
"…It's called a first person narrative piece" Kicker looked at Eddy's unchanged emotion. "…An editorial column?"
"Look, Kicker. I'm fine with your soft news stories, but there is no credibility in your other story, other then what you say happened." Eddy looked up at Kicker and spoke again, "I don't know Kicker, maybe you should be a fiction writer on the side, but what I do know is you need to get your pieces approved before writing them."
With that the chief editor left the room.
Kicker stared at the rejected story that lay on the desk, and then went over and picked it up. For now it just looked like the city of Fillydelphia was not ready to accept that bat ponies were real. He would not allow the setback to stop him though. There was a mystery out there, and he wanted to solve it. A journalist's goal is to find the truth, and Kicker knew that this accidental discovery was only the beginning.
