Rampant

There had been another visitor into town a few minutes ago at the south gate, though this one caused no stir. He was a colt, a simple one by his look, pulling a large cart. He slouched a little as he pulled his load, his neck sweating heaviest, but he kept his chin high and jaw shut. His windswept silver mane was dull and dirty, but his fur coat was a brighter yellow, not bright, but a shade quite pleasant on the eyes. Actually, his eyes were quite shaded—a hat with a brim nearly twice as wide as the colt’s head was tilted over one ear. A ray of sun bobbed around his cheek with each step, shining onto him only through a hole scorched through the brim of his hat.

His gaze was cast on the road ahead, never glancing down any corridors he crossed. None of the townsfolk he passed by greeted him. The next ponies he saw were a swath, or perhaps a gaggle of students laughing like jackasses amongst themselves as they, too, ignored him. The colt watched them only a moment before scoffing under his breath.

If not for a hoof pressing into his shoulder as he passed them, he wouldn’t have given another thought to the students. But it wasn’t a student poking him—an aproned mare with a bun too elaborate for her job was smiling at him, a placard displaying the Light of Heaven’s happy hour leaning against her legs.

“Lookin’ sharp, Mister Line,” she said.

Line straightened up, but sighed. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m hot. I ain’t got time for whatever Gold wants, okay? Tell her to do it or get it herself.”

The waitress frowned. “Now, come on, that’s not fair to her. You know she wouldn’t send me all the way across town if it wasn’t for a good reason.”

“Spill it,” Line said.

The waitress smiled again immediately, her hair bun bobbing slightly as she stepped forward. “Okay, so, some mares were in just a little while ago, and they wanted to meet Fluttershy. They said they had just gotten out of Canterlot and that they knew her. Sounds pretty interesting so far, right? But there’s a twist.”

“Dear gods, Derby, speed it up a little.”

“I’m getting there. So, they came in with a zebra. Kind of weird, but what are you going to do, right? Except the minute some professor comes in, he takes one look at the zebra and goes bonkers, like, zealous. I thought it would turn into a bloodbath right there. He got the whole party carted off to the mayor, and didn’t say why.”

Line didn’t respond, but he tilted his head just a bit as he raised one eyebrow.

“Gold just figured you might want to know,” the waitress said. She shrugged, pressing one shoulder close to her cheek as she kept grinning. “They’re probably all still at his office, just in case you wanted to check them out. And if you dooo, come back and tell me what happened, okay?”

Line raised a hoof to his hat, tipping it over his other ear. He glanced back toward the main road with a frown, muttering, “Well, well. Think I just might do that.”

Rampa—

“‘Cept for that latter part,” Line said before getting a move on. “It ain’t never hap’nin’, Derby. Get over it.”

—Rampant

Ponyville, Part Two

Ch. 3: Let Me Catch My Breath

There was some faint music in the room, more of a ditty than a real song. The beat was grating, the few lyrics sung at all were meaningless, and the rhythm—well, there wasn’t one. Twilight was lined up in between Rainbow and Pinkie, all of them sitting against the wall in a waiting room outside the mayor’s office.

The walls were painted a nice, calming beige, and there was a speaker in each corner of the ceiling that piped through their muzak. A desk was set up opposite Twilight and the others, just by the office door, an elderly mare in beaded glasses going aggressively at a typewriter behind it. She looked up at the clock above Twilight constantly, pausing her typing each time, but ignored the ponies beneath it.

The three prisoners were chained up together, all of their leg irons interconnected. Twilight kept glancing at the guards on either side of their group, though it was Rainbow she kept the closest eye on. Rainbow stared straight ahead, gaze thin as a needle, jaw set. The song playing over the speaker ended just a moment later, however, and Rainbow’s muscles visibly relaxed as the only sound left in the room became the tak tak tak from the receptionist.

The exact same song started next. As Rainbow started shaking, her gaze slowly widening, Twilight turned from her toward one of the guards flanking them and quickly asked, “Are you going to put us in jail?”

The guard stared forward as well, but his eyes were only half open. “Maybe.”

Twilight glanced between Rainbow and the guard again. Grimacing, she asked, “What are the charges against us?”

“Don’t know.”

Twilight looked at the other guard, but that one was glaring at the receptionist’s typewriter, a mean look in his eyes. Turning back to the first guard, Twilight asked, “Do you know why we’re even in trouble?”

“Don’t care.”

Twilight frowned deeper. She glanced toward the door to the mayor’s office, but she couldn’t hear anything from inside. As she slumped further, the sound of teeth gnashing began from next to her. She didn’t look over this time.

-

The speakers weren’t playing anything inside the office. Mayor Virtue was seated behind a much larger desk, bins full of paperwork on either side of him. A little gold placard displayed his name in between the bins. Though plush armchairs just smaller than his were set in each corner by the entrance, his guest was forced to stand.

His rump cushioned by a throw pillow, the mayor crossed his forelegs over his stomach as he leaned back into the leather backing of his personal chair. He shook his head just a bit, smirking, as he looked his guest over. He chuckled.

Zecora, the chains around her legs secured to bolts on the floor, stared him down equally. There was no anger in her expression.

The mayor’s horn glowed bright silver and he pulled open one of his drawers, retrieving a crystal glass and a vintage bottle from inside. With a brighter glow, the cork popped off and he poured his glass full. Finally, as he brought the glass close to his hoof, the mayor said, “You know, I’ve made whole lists of the questions I’d ask when we finally caught you. Considering that, let this be the first: do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused for us over the past two years?”

Zecora’s tone remained casual. “I may.”

The mayor took a long sip from his glass, smiling all the wider as his lips parted from it. “As long as you know well enough how satisfying the feeling is to have you in captivity. It’s sublime.”

He put down the glass and sighed, leaning his hoof next against his cheek. “However, I find it hard to congratulate myself when you were captured so simply. Tell me, zebra, what are you doing back in Ponyville?”

“I thought your headmaster was still here,” Zecora said. “I wished to negotiate with him. You are a mere substitute.”

The tip of the mayor’s face twitched, but he maintained a smile. “Better a substitute than a prisoner. Either way, I’m unconvinced you really have anything with which you can negotiate. You’ll cooperate with us or you’ll get a branding iron up your brittle old ass. You see? Absolutely no negotiation necessary.”

Zecora finally cracked a grin. “I know too many things that you do not know to ask. The lists you mentioned, mayor: read them to me. I can tell you what you forgot.”

“Ha. You’re not going to be an easy one, I’ll give you that,” the mayor said. He leaned forward again, propping himself on his desk as he rested his chin on his forehooves. “All right. I’ll start next down, at number two. What did you do with Pinkie Pie’s body?”

“She’s sitting outside.”

The mayor glanced from Zecora to the door behind her. “And how am I to believe that’s really her?”

“Test her,” Zecora said, her grin fading as soon as it came. “Prod her. Stick her. Bleed her. None will work.”

The mayor shook his head, chuckling again. “Oh, I imagine we will. Even so, tell me honestly what you’re doing back here with her.”

“I have seen what happened in Canterlot, mayor. I can no longer bet against the school. I need you to be able to stand against true threats.”

“What, the corpse eaters? We’ve repelled them before. I wouldn’t overestimate them.”

Zecora narrowed her gaze. “Your mighty Celestia could hold them back only one month.”

The mayor sighed, lowering his gaze to the desk as a smirk spread across across half his face. “Suppose I can’t help it if they frighten you. Still, what is it you think you can do to help us?”

“For all the questions you have, mayor,” Zecora said, “I know that you truly need the answer to only one.”

The mayor frowned. “And how the hell do you know?”

“I’ve always known the prize your headmaster seeks. My only condition is that you release the ponies arrested with me, including Pinkie Pie,” Zecora said.

The mayor cocked his head far over to one side, sighing again all the heavier as he looked back to Zecora. As he levitated his glass again, he said, “Now, what did I just say about making a deal with me, zebra?”

Zecora’s stare turned cold, her eyelids narrowing as her eyes widened. “Do not test me, pony.”

Though they didn’t move at all, the chains encasing her legs seemed to flex tighter as she spoke, a quiet aching sound echoing from them that could be mistaken for the wind. Zecora continued, “And do not test my spirit. We will make a fair trade: you will release the ponies, and I will teach how to raise your dead from her ashes.”

Mayor Virtue’s glass remained suspended by itself for a moment as he paused, watching Zecora closely. His frown dissipated a second later as he smirked again, rolling his eyes and leaning back into his chair. “Oh, all right, I’ll be a good sport. As long as you don’t put up a struggle, I’ll allow your friends their freedom.”

Though Zecora was already soothed, her face nearly blank again, the stress in her chains didn’t seem to fade. They looked aged, though to little notice from behind the desk.

“However,” the mayor snapped, “they can’t leave town yet. I need to know what you’re actually doing here before anypony leaves.”

“That is acceptable,” Zecora said.

The mayor sipped from his glass, savoring the taste a few seconds before swallowing, and lowered his glass back to the desk. He glanced to his drawers again, pulling one open and levitating out from it a paper and quill. He looked back to Zecora.

“Granted, I’m not the one you need to explain anything to,” Virtue said. “Write it down for me, and I’ll make sure it gets into the right hooves. I’ll have to keep you locked up until your ritual has been proven—and besides that, I’m not just going to pardon grave robbing.”

Zecora offered a slight smirk, the sort one indulged in. “Whatever is necessary.”

-

Their chains were unlocked, and Twilight, Rainbow, and Pinkie were escorted downstairs and shoved back outside. Twilight stumbled out last, nearly tripping as the door slammed behind her. The street they were now on was as indiscriminate of markings as any other they’d seen. It was busier, but with ponies noticeably older than the ones near the tavern; these townsfolk all wore neckties, too, but more of them had pins in several different colors.

Rainbow was the first to react, turning around and pounding a hoof high on the door. She yelled, “Hey, you forgot somepony! Someone, whatever—open up, assholes!”

A click and a thud came from behind the door handle, noisier than they had to be, followed by hoofsteps echoing away. Rainbow tried knocking a little more zealously.

Twilight brushed the dust off for the second time that day, but this time, turned to the others and had neither of them to ask for directions. She watched Rainbow a moment, understanding a little faster than her friend that no one else was coming out, and felt discomfort growing even further somewhere in her gut. She then felt a jostle, however, and turned to Pinkie, who was nudging her side. Pinkie didn’t look back at her, but whispered, “Twilight.”

Twilight leaned in closer, though Pinkie’s stiff expression read that she was trying badly to avoid attention.

“On our seven o’clock in the morning.”

Pinkie rolled her head and nodded backwards, suddenly whistling a tune of nonchalance. Or more of an off-tune. Twilight stared back at Pinkie for a moment, just watching, before shaking her head and turning around.

Line was standing in the road behind everyone, the only other pony there who wasn’t in a hurry to get somewhere. Though there was no wagon hitched to him anymore, saddlebags were slung over his back, and he was chewing on several stalks of grain that stuck out the corner of his mouth.

“Can we help you?” Twilight asked, her tone blunter than usual.

Line eyed them all a moment more before responding. “Y’all them mares that were lookin’ for Fluttershy?”

Rainbow pulled back from the door and turned around with the rest of the group, rolling her whole head with her eyes as she groaned, “Gods, what now?”

“I just figure it’s pro’lly the other way around of who needs whose help,” Line said. “Ain’t seen y’all around before. Who are you?”

Twilight shoved her hooves further apart and lowered her neck, a growling tone beneath her every word. “And who are you? We’ve just been through having to explain ourselves under a near interrogation, after that getting arrested as well, and we certainly don’t appreciate somepony coming along and repeating the same line of questioning we just went through when we are busy trying to figure out how to reconnect with not one, not two, but three of our friends, so excuse us if our primary concern right now is not identifying ourselves to everypony that asks!”

Line’s gaze remained easy. He chewed his grain a few seconds more while making sure Twilight was finished, and said, “I’m her son. Name’s Silver Lining. And you know what I don’t appreciate? Strange ponies askin’ all about a kindly old mother who don’t have many folks looking out for her anymore. Now if you don’t mind, who the hell are you and why do you want to meet her?”

Twilight and Rainbow stared at him for a long moment without answering. Pinkie turned around as well, casual again, and said, “Nice to meet you, Fluttershy’s son! I’m Pinkie Pie, and these are—”

Both of the others leaped upon Pinkie, Rainbow grappling her neck and Twilight shoving a hoof over her mouth. The three of them huddled around Pinkie’s headlock, a noticeable girth in their eyes.

“Holy shit, is he for real?” Rainbow said.

Twilight stared back at her and whispered, “Is there any chance he’s lying to us? I just—I never even considered what—should we tell him who we are?”

“We have to tell him!” Rainbow said. “If he’s the pony that Gold girl mentioned, he’s the only link to Fluttershy we’ve got! We’ve still got to find Applejack, plus break out Zecora. As far as what we do first, Zecora’s got to have some plan already—so we need to find Fluttershy and Applejack.”

Rainbow glanced to Pinkie and asked, “Zecora’s got a plan, right?”

Pinkie nodded, as little as she could. Twilight’s gaze darted back and forth in space while thinking. She muttered, “Once we try to free Zecora, we’ll have to get out of town immediately afterward. That means we’ll need to stop by my library before then, preferably with Applejack and Fluttershy, but it will be harder finding relevant books on the bloodlust without Zecora’s help.”

Rainbow glanced between both the others. “Well, either way we need Fluttershy. We’ve still got to tell him.”

“Okay,” Twilight said, nodding. She and Rainbow released Pinkie at the same time. “Let’s try this again.”

All three of them turned around, smiling very sincerely as Twilight began introductions again. “Sorry about that, we were just—uh...”

Line looked like he wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying anymore. He was looking nearly straight through them, slack jawed, his grain fallen unnoticed by the road. His mouth bobbed slowly as he sputtered, “How in the hell…?”

Everyone toned it down a notch with the enthusiasm all over their faces. Twilight’s smile turned sheepish, and she said, “Well, as I was saying: I’m Twilight Sparkle, and these are Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie.”

“Like we already said,” Rainbow continued, “we’re really old friends of your, uh… your mother.”

Line shook his head, or perhaps his head shook—he hardly looked in control of himself. “How?”

“I doubt it’s a good idea to talk any more about that around here,” Twilight said.

Line stood up a bit, quickly pushing back his hat while glancing around. “Well, no—no, it’s not. You’re right. Just follow me.”

They walked. As they weaved through the crowds, Line said, “I just got over here after an errand, hoping to run into y’all before you were moved to the jail—anypony the school takes a dislikin’ to, I got an interest in. But you folk… I mean, I’ve heard stories, but y’all have got a doozy to tell.”

“Then, you’re not affiliated with the school?” Twilight asked.

“No way am I. Ma doesn’t like ‘em, and neither do I. And when she didn’t support them, they didn’t support her. It’s just me that still lives with her now.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Rainbow said, her grin still growing. “I mean, we never even knew she got a—you know—she never even had a coltfriend when we were still around! Who’d she marry? No, wait, did she adopt you? I bet she adopted you.”

Even as Line glanced back to retort, Pinkie dug her hooves in and gasped long, clear, and loud enough that nearly everyone else on the street turned and stared at the spectacle. Oblivious to them, Pinkie cried, “That voice!”

She leaned in close to Line’s face, stroking her own chin as she pursed her lips. “You sound veeery familiar. Is your dad Big Macintosh?”

Rainbow squealed out loud even as the strangers that had been watching started on their ways again. Line lowered his voice much quieter than the girls’ and said, “For godsakes—no, she didn’t and no, he isn’t! Dad ain’t around anymore, and Ma’s sensitive about that. Don’t go askin’ her about him when we get there, all right?”

Giggling as she trotted up beside Line, Rainbow nudged a knee into his side. “That’s why we’re asking you—now spill!”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight said. “Show some respect.”

Rainbow glanced from Twilight to Line. Line was looking back to the road, and in between steps quickly pulled his hat back over his forehead. Rainbow rolled her eyes and fell behind toward Twilight and Pinkie again, groaning a little. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Sorry.”

“I grew up on a lot of stories about all of you,” Line said, “but y’all are sure makin’ this a whole lot less exciting all of the sudden.”

Someone else tapped him on the shoulder, but this time it was Pinkie. Pouting a little even as she skipped next to him, she said, “Aww, we didn’t mean to make you remember something bad.”

Line glanced aside at her and softened his expression. “Just be more mindful when we get home is all.”

“Would it help if we told you all of our most horrible, painful memories?” Pinkie said, smiling again already. “Both of my parents are long gone!”

Line grimaced at her. “No, thank you. Sorry to hear that.”

“And quit bouncing!” Twilight said, looking from their group to the increasingly curious passersby. “Maybe we can still salvage some privacy.”

Pinkie skipped to a halt, scuffing a cloud of dirt up in front of her. She lifted her chin, motioned a hoof across her mouth, and walked serenely—and quietly—with the rest of the group.

The district ended on the next street, and the offices and businesses came to an abrupt halt as more rows of nearly identical houses sprawled past them. All the other ponies wandering the streets, too, seemed to disappear just as easily. The residential streets were shorter, and split off more quickly—Line guided the other three down several side roads before they reached his home, by then having passed no one else in several minutes.

His house looked the same as the ones next to it, though the wooden siding was just a hue lighter. There was just a porch leading up to the door, no yards at all on the whole street. Line’s empty cart was hitched just beside the porch, the wheels locked together with a chain; he stepped past it as he pushed open the front door, beckoning his guests inside.

“Ma!” he called, rubbing his hooves on an already smudged welcome mat. “You told me you were gonna lock the door after I left!”

Twilight, Rainbow and Pinkie looked around all in different directions as they wiped their hooves slower. Stairs to the second floor were right in front of them, the entrance sharing space with the stair landing; a living room was to their left, little in the way of furniture arranged inside, but a multitude of pictures on every wall.

“Oh. Sorry, dear,” a voice called through a doorway beyond the living room. Chopping sounds echoed with it.

Line shook his head and trotted over, saying, “Don’t mind that right now—we got some guests. I met some old, old friends of yours in town.”

A clank echoed next, like metal getting laid on wood, and then a clopping. Fluttershy ambled carefully out from the kitchen, some wrinkles wrapped around her knees and eyes. She looked from Line toward Twilight, Rainbow, and Pinkie, staring a moment before she could react.

“Oh, my,” Fluttershy gasped, eyes welling up.

“Flutter-shyyy!” Pinkie cried, leaping around her shoulders in a single bound. “I’m s-so happy to see you again!”

Fluttershy hugged her back as tightly as her age still let her. Twilight and Rainbow cantered into the embrace next, and Fluttershy squeezed them all together, everyone putting a hoof over each other. Fluttershy’s hair nestled with Twilight’s as she shut her eyes tighter, blustering, “Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Twilight—it’s been so long!”

“Way too long,” Twilight said, smiling again.

Rainbow patted the backs of the friends on either side of her and said, “It’s awesome to see you again, too, Fluttershy.”

After a few heavy seconds, Fluttershy pulled away and wiped her face. Voice still wavering, she asked, “But what are you all doing here?”

“And how?” Line demanded, standing away from the others.

Twilight stepped back to better address everyone, grinning wider. “We can’t say how, exactly, but Zecora resurrected us. We’re back to stop the bloodlust, Fluttershy. We need your help.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Fluttershy said. “What is it you need me for?”

Twilight glanced between Rainbow and Pinkie before answering. “Well, you’re one of our friends. Doing things together is what got us through all our crises before.”

“Not to mention you’re still one of the Elements of Harmony,” Rainbow chided.

Fluttershy stared again, brow lowering as she thought a moment. Her eyes brightened again as she said, “Oh, yes. I had forgotten about the elements. They were very important.”

Line trotted around everyone else and tossed himself onto the sofa. He said, “Don’t you remember, ma? You were a big deal back in the day. Went on lots of fun adventures.”

“I do remember,” Fluttershy said, glancing back to her son. “But that was all a very long time ago… I don’t know what use I could possibly be anymore.”

“We don’t need you to do anything,” Pinkie said. “We just need you to be you—super lots of you!”

Line pushed his legs over the front of the sofa and let them dangle. “Besides all that, let’s get back to the original point: how in the hell did y’all even get ‘resurrected’?”

“Silver, please mind your language!” Fluttershy said, raising a hoof and tutting him. “There is never any excuse to say something like that, especially when we have friends over.”

Rainbow’s lips puckered sourly as she glanced between Twilight and Pinkie. Twilight rolled her eyes, but suppressed a giggle as she said, “Well, I was as surprised as you when I climbed out of my own tomb. Zecora didn’t explain it very well either, and right now, she can’t tell us any more—the mayor is still holding her, as far as we know.”

Fluttershy turned back to the others and said, “Oh, no. Did she get arrested?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. “We all did, but they let us go after a while. We’ve still got to rescue her after we find Applejack. Oh, sh—Applejack!”

Fluttershy cupped a hoof over her mouth as she gasped, but her smile shown from underneath. “Applejack is here, too? Oh, I haven’t seen her again yet!”

“We split up as soon as we got back into town,” Twilight said. “She went to look for the rest of the Apple family while we found you. We were all supposed to meet back up at a tavern downtown, so that’s our next step.”

“Oh, no,” Fluttershy gasped, her smile gone. She clutched her wings tighter to her back as tears escaped her again. “Oh, poor Applejack. I’m so sorry for her. None of her family made it through the attacks alive.”

Rainbow raised her voice higher than she probably meant to. “The what?”

“You didn’t know about what happened?” Fluttershy said. “I didn’t know that you didn’t know—oh, I should have braced you first—I’m so sorry!”

“Calm down, Ma, it’s all right,” Line said. He turned to the others, continuing, “There’s a nasty band of unicorn ponies that’ve raided Ponyville plenty of times before, and they always used the old Apple farm as their base camp. That farm didn’t make it through all the raids, and the Apple folks… don’t think they lasted even that long.”

Twilight rubbed her chin. “Condolences are well and good, but that makes me especially worried for Applejack now. Who knows how she’ll react to finding out, if she hasn’t already.”

“Then we better go get her before she gets us all into even more trouble,” Rainbow groaned.

“Not any of you,” Line said. “It’s gettin’ late, and this town’s got a nighttime curfew. I’ll sneak back to the bar and see if she’s still waitin’ there—better just one pony goes, and I know the shortest way, so don’t y’all go protesting about it being me.”

“But you just got back, too,” Fluttershy murmured. “Are you sure we can’t all go find Applejack?”

Line pushed himself off from the couch. He smiled and said, “I’ll be back in just a bit, Ma. You go ahead and have dinner with your old buddies here, and Applejack and I will be back by the time you’re up in the morning.”

Fluttershy pouted, shaking her head a little. “Oh, but—but then you’ll both miss dinner with us!”

“Well, it’s a little more important we get Applejack off the streets than it is to have dinner with her,” Line said as he trotted back to the door. “Don’t worry, we’ll all have dinner together tomorrow night. Okay?”

Fluttershy stared after him, but nodded a moment later. Line pushed the door open and turned back to everyone, saying, “Y’all make sure to lock the door behind me. I’ll prob’ly be back before curfew, but don’t you be worried if I’m not.”

“You gonna know what she looks like before she says her name?” Rainbow said, smirking a little.

Line sighed, “She the one with freckles?”

Pinkie poked herself high on her right cheek. “Right here!”

“I remember her,” Line said, turning again. “Now y’all go enjoy dinner. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Be careful out there,” Twilight said automatically. Even after he closed the door, with a second more’s thought about it, she added, “I think.”

-

It was sprinkling. Just little drops for the time being, nothing that would bother anypony who wasn’t out for long. For how dark it was getting outside, the clouds were still visible, and those that were drifting closer looked no heavier than those already overhead. The rain was an annoyance only to those still working outside, say, on guard duty.

It was just another little fuck-you to Raindawn, who, working the gate, was used to getting them. He was looking up at the horizon instead of down, ignoring the increasingly dark fields beyond Ponyville. He simply watched as the streaks of light peeking through distant clouds grew further distant. That was all right. In another hour he’d be off the clock, going home.

Raindawn glanced down at his chest, frowning. “Oh, horsefeathers.”

His necktie was already getting wet. He pressed it straighter and slumped over a little more, but couldn’t shield it further. School uniforms had to be kept pristine, especially on campus, as they were all property of the school; Raindawn would have to put some time into ironing it before morning classes. He drooped over the parapet.

Someone was approaching. Not from out of town, though—one of the senior guards, a mustachioed pegasus just a bit taller than Raindawn, was whistling something sharp and upbeat as he cantered atop the wall’s perimeter.

“Rained-on Raindawn,” he called. Raindawn didn’t respond.

The senior trotted up beside him, glancing out the same direction as where Raindawn stared. He continued, “Bet you love nights like this, huh? Probably wish it rained all day.”

“This is the opposite of what I like,” Raindawn said, his tone strict.

Raising a hoof to his moustache, the senior patted it against his face in a poor attempt at twirling it. “What-ever. Yeltsin at the east gate was acting the crybaby about it. Whined about his tie, how late he’d have to stay up, how early he had to be up, like a crybaby. That Yeltsin—what a crybaby. Any-way. Seen any more refugees, or anything else to report tonight?”

“Nothing.”

“Very good! Continue finding nothing. Keeps my job easy.”

The senior turned and kept on trotting, whistling a different tune next. Raindawn considered rolling his eyes, rather than just doing it, and decided against it; he was taught that it was a virtue to always consider his actions first. He looked to the sky again, sighing to himself, before glancing back to the stupidly empty fields—

“Something!”

The senior looked back toward Raindawn, one fuzzy eyebrow raised high. “Oh, you bastard. What now?”

“I see something,” Raindawn said, hopping his forehooves onto the parapet as he craned his neck and strained his eyes. “Or somepony? Somepony. Look.”

Rainclouds were moving directly over where Raindawn had spotted her. She would be nearly invisible if not for standing at the top of the tallest hill beyond the Ponyville fields, and even then, only her silhouette was really there.

The senior stepped up beside Raindawn, raising a hoof over his eyes. “Another refugee? How sad.”

“I don’t think so,” Raindawn said. “Look closer.”

The senior leaned nervously closer to the precipice, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not convinced I can.”

“Then look better.”

“Just tell me what you see!”

Raindawn pulled his neck back, but he didn’t relax. He said, “She’s got a weird smile.”

The senior’s mustache twitched even before he frowned, and he glanced to Raindawn. “Is she a unicorn?”

“I see a horn, yes. And blood.”

A moment of quiet followed. Then a strained harrumph as the senior plied at this mustache again, grunting, “You just got excused from your morning classes, Rainy. You’re staying late.”

Raindawn raised his whole brow a moment, turning to the senior and asking, “Will you remember to give a note to my professor this—”

“Dear gods, Rainy, fine, yes,” the senior sputtered. “Just keep watching her instead of being a sobbing infant. I’ve got to meet with the captain.”

He went off at a lope back the way he came. Raindawn hopped down from the parapet and stepped around to its side, sitting down. He stared at the mare as best he still could.

She already looked muddy. The last strips of light in the sky were passing her over in brief moments, each flash revealing another feature. She was smiling despite the mud all over her legs, some of it having splashed into the loose ends of her mane. The smile was just from her lips, the blood pooled and dried beneath them, her eyes locked forward back at him.

The last thing he really saw at that distance, whether or not by some malicious timing on her part, was a gesture. She licked her lips.