It was a great year for Equestria: over a millennium had passed since the inhabitants had began moving themselves forward to peace and harmony; a new home for the equines where they were born and raised... and died.

Much time later, a nomadic tribe far up north from the lands composed of caribou, led by their king Dainn, ventured in and launched a campaign of terror against the denizens. Initial fighting had lasted over an hour and saw both genders lose their collective hope for peace; the people were horrified by the various atrocities that which were committed for the sake of dominance. Much time had passed since the invasion; for the moment, it had seemed that all was lost.

Of course, not everyone had succumbed to the ruling nor would they allow it to dominate their very lives; instead, there were others who chose to fight back and take back the society: this is the story of one of them.

WARNING: This fanfic contains references to death, murder-suicide, terrorism, and enslavement of characters; as a result, the writer would like to take the time to say that such actions are not to be encouraged, endorsed, or condoned under any circumstances.

Not to be read by those under the age of eighteen, unless you are at that age; otherwise, turn back now and spare yourself from whatever mental anguish for that the writer is not responsible for any that can ensue within real life.