*Sniff-Sniff, Sniff-Sniff* The dried leaves of the bush are pleasant to smell. It’s not like the scent is new or anything, but tonight is better for a different reason.

Flashlights hovered near the area. Panicked replaces serenity, and the bush becomes a good hiding spot. Unfortunately, the leaves rustled as they’re pushed to the side.

“Did everypony hear that?”

Only the sound of hoofsteps are made, “Screwyyy! Come here, Screwyyyyy! I got your favorite chewing ball!”

Screw Loose nearly dashed through the bush towards her caretaker, but she’s not a dumb dog. Going back to her caretaker means going back to the ponies in white suit, and that means that bed with straps to hold her down, or the puffy white room so she – as they said – ‘doesn’t hurt herself’.

A light passing above her eyes makes her blink, snapping her out of her thoughts. She’s fortunate part of the leaves parted, leaving a good view of her pursuers, and the present flashlights provided enough illumination.

Her caretaker – a mare with a soft-yellow coat, curly, light-blue and baby-blue toned mane, a long bun that reaches down her neck with a cap on her head, and a cutie mark of a white cross with four hearts surrounding it – makes squeaky noises with a rubber ball she’s stomping. Her eyes dart around with a smile that can’t hide her worry.

Screw is still some ways from Ponyville, at least to the main section where houses and stores surround you.

The plain she’s in is very close to that, but with a few bushes here and there with even fewer trees. She has to wait for her chance to-

“Screw! SCREW! SCREEEEW!!!” Her ears perk up at the voice of her sister. The urge of running and licking her face is too great, but Screw knows better. So she-“Screw, stop hiding! It’s me! Your sister.”

She comes into view – a lighter shade of blue as a coat, blue-green mane that ends in a bun, a similar cap and cuties mark, except the cross is red and the hearts are a darker pink. Her own panic is mixed with fear as she repeats “pleasebeokaypleasebeokaypleasebeokay”

“Relax, Tender,” Coldheart places a comforting hoof on her friend/colleague’s shoulder, “Screw knows better than to get hurt. She’s a smart dog after all.”

Tenderheart narrows her eyes, accompanied with a scowl. She jerks her shoulder, removing the hoof and causing a mournful look on her friend, “Tender, I’m sorry. I-”

“That,” she spat, “that right there is the reason why she is still sick, because you keep reinforcing her Clinical lycanthropy. How is she supposed to be herself again if you keep playing catch the ball with her?”

Now it’s Coldheart’s turn to narrow her eyes, “Excuse me for giving her something to smile. Do you know how much she whines when we treat her? Do you know how many tears she holds back every time somepony looks at her like she has the flu - and I’m not talking about the stomach flu? And one last thing, do you know how badly she wants to live her life?”

Tenderheart bares her teeth in a scowl, “I. Know. She’s my sister for Celestia’s sake, but this is for her own good.”

“You mean making her life miserable?” Coldheart counters in a steel voice.

“I WANT HER TO HAVE A NORMAL LIFE!” Her voice cracks at the end. Tears held back, but one escapes and rolls down her cheek. The demeanor of the other nurse crumbles, but Tenderheart still goes to the offensive, “Do you know what ponies called her when she was on the street acting like…” her nostrils flare as she breathes in heavily, “acting like that? The things the other ponies told her; I didn’t forget that, and I don’t want her to go through that again. I want to support her,” tears flow freely, and Coldheart’s ears flop down to her head, “but I want my sister back. I want to talk to her and hear her voice again. I-*Sob*-I want her to call me Tender again.”

She tries to hold onto her anger, but it crumbles apart with streams of tears and strained sobbing. There’s no sign it will stop, not even as Coldheart wraps her in a tight hug. Tender buries her face on her neck and returns the embrace.

From the side, another pony comes into view. This one – a plumb physique, three light-pink freckles on each cheek, pink coat, light violet mane with white stripes, white cross and four light-pink hearts surrounding it – is holding a flashlight in her muzzle. She grasps it with her hoof, “Girls, I hate to be the one who says this, but all this commotion might have scared Screw away. Tenderheart, we know this isn’t easy for you, but now is not the time for you to lose your temper. Not when Screw is Celestia knows where.”

The sobbings came out more chocked. Tender steps away from the hug first, wipes a trench of tears away and manages to say “I*Hic*I’m okay. I’m okay.” She repeats forcefully. “Sorry for…my behavior. It was out of character.” She gasps in surprise when Sweetheart tackles her into a hug.

“It’s all right, honey. You’re under a lot of stress. It’s a wonder why you haven’t snapped sooner.”

Tenderheart blinks a few times, trying to register the sign of affection. When she moves again, she returns the embrace half-heartedly before breaking it.

“Thanks.” She takes a deep breath, calming the last of her nerves. The sound of a bush rustling snaps her full attention to it, “Screw?!” She rushes towards it, followed by the two other nurses and stallions, holding a flashlight in their muzzle, in white scrubs that wisely stayed out of the touchy moment.

Her shout soon echoes through the field, “STUPID SQUIRREL!”

But Screw barely registered it. She bit her lower lip, holding back her tears and resisting her instincts to run to her sister, tackle her to the ground and cuddle her till she feels better.

She managed to repress a *whine*, but currently the back of her head is yelling at her to comfort her sister, and it’s quickly gaining ground over the voice that warns her of what awaits if she does.

She has to get away. She had to, before she decides against it. She moves a hoof to turn around. *Snap* Her eyes widen in fear.

“Screw?” The entire bush shakes, and Screw – in a white hospital garment – comes out galloping towards Ponyville as if her life depends on it. “SCREEEW!”

She won’t look back. She will block the shouts and pleas of her sister. She’s ready to start a new life somewhere. …Even - as much as it pains her to do - if it causes grief for her sister.

A wooden spoon swirls inside the cauldron. The brew turning from a pinkish color to a light green as bubbles rise to the surface.

Zecora is brewing an easy (uncommon for her) solution for when the time comes. Her lips curve into a smile as she remembered the wonder in those kids’ eyes as she came out of the green haze.

She inwardly chuckles, This time around, a hydra, Ursa Minor and changelings will do, and perhaps some treats for them to droll. She can already see some of the colts jumping and taking a bite of the green sweets, only to realize it’s all lights and smoke. But she frowns from a thought, I fear a repeat might be dull, but adding a few more hues might be the way to go.

She stops mixing and walks over to a stand with vials ready for use. She inches her muzzle closer, but stops when she notices the bottle is vibrating. Zecora inspects it briefly before looking at the one next to it. It’s in the same condition, and soon rattles as more join. All around her, vials, masks, even the cauldron are shaking as she watches with a baffled expression. She snaps out of stupor as realization hits her.

The floor is shaking, and in hindsight, it’s not a good idea to have unsecured vials that contain chemicals that should never be mixed to together, and the rest that serve for…self-defense purposes.

She gallops towards the door, managing to maintain her footing long enough to reach it before the first vial fell off. She passes the threshold and Tartarus is let loose.

Pops and cracks are overtaken by spontaneous flamethrowers shooting out the window, rainbow-hued smokes bursting out from time to time, colorful fireballs that dissolves into flares of its color.

And Zecora is witness to this from her position on the ground. Mere inches below the danger as her hooves are crossed over her head.

Just as fast as it began, it stops. Zecora dares take a peek behind. Seeing (potentially deathly) smoke of various colors seeping through cracks on her home is not a good sign, but if anything, its still standing. With any more luck, somethings might have survived.

She gets up to get a better look at the damage.

The door has been torn off its hinges, and whatever hasn’t been scorched to ashes, is burned beyond recognition. The only reason she knows it was once a door, is that all the black lumps are piled a few feet away from the entrance. The frames of the windows are in the same condition as the door, even more smoke coming out from them. There are splinters forming webs around the branches, the roots, and only one vial and the tiki mask to that leaned on a branch survived.
She takes a moment of silence, not for the potions that she can replace in a matter of days, but for her hut she called a home, the masks and personal items which served as memento to her friends in her homeland. All gone by a short earthquake.

The silence helps her go through the stage of grief. …The Everfree, silent? Cryptids roam these woods day and night. Finally registering the oddity in the silence, she turns around and scans surroundings with a critical eye.

No bird cries, hardly the traces of wind. She knows what this means, if something keeps the creatures of the Everfree silent, then it can only be a bad omen.

Her eyes widen as they stop, “This can’t be. You all should be a myth forgotten in time.”

Three dark, small, bipedal creatures with two antennas each approach her on shaky steps, but the rustle of leaves above her turns her attention in time to see similar creatures – with long hind legs, slick and long appendages like a monkey’s arms, combined with hollow yellow beads for eyes – descend directly for her.

The solace of silence is nothing new to the pony. The moon’s soft light is still there, although it pours through a new window. Maybe that’s the reason why the night sucks so much. Because nothing good came from moving in. To make things ‘better’, many boxes are still sealed because of...reasons, and that’s not mentioning the document showing her loans. That’s if it wasn’t crumbled into a ball and had been tossed to a random corner.

However, being able to see parts the floor at all was a miracle on its own. Her last residence could be considered a dump even in low and depredated household standards. She’s lucky to have gotten out of that place and start a new life…at the very least put the effort to start one.

“This is sad,” the last thing she needs is to go down the memory lane of self-arrogance and self- destruction. She’s lying on her couch with a hoof draped over her eyes, so the light coming from the window next to her wouldn’t bother her. In truth, she can walk to her bedroom and sleep there instead in the living room, but that would mean she has to get up and that right now is not doable for her.

The other thing she could do is get up for a seconds to spread the curtains, but that would require moving too much.

So with a soft sigh, she resigns herself to sleep on the couch without a warm blanket over her.

*Bark-Bark*

She sits up with a jolt; her amber eyes opened wide in surprise. She snaps her head to the left, and right on the table – lucky enough to be included with the house – is a slim puppy with the most adorable face she ever seen, and eyes that seem to captivate her into almost saying ‘Aaaww. Whose that cutie little doggy?’

She shook her head, ‘W-What was I doing?’ Her eyes fell back on the puppy, and a scowl spreads her features, “How did you get in?”

The answer doesn’t matter as much when the cute creature rolls on his back, and opens its mouth while its tongue hangs on one side. *Bark-Bark*

She be lying if she said she isn’t feeling unease by the doggy that may need a belly rub. She smiles though as the cute creature *whines* for her touch.

Combined with the puppy eyes, she relents, “Alright, alright, but only one belly rub.”

She gets up with a wide smile plastered on her face; her light, turquoise coat has a dull surface from the harsh times she had to go through.

But none of it matters right now, only being close to the doggy and running her hoof in circles on its belly, “Why did nopony tell me dogs are this cute. I would have bought one ages ago. …Maybe not, a dog on Cloudsdale sound like a bad idea.”

The dog rolls to its feet, and waggles its tail in an excited manner. The pegasus looks at it with a confused gaze, unsure of what it wants from her now, and now she isn’t sure of what she’s seeing, because its eyes glow amber, the color of her eyes. They turn pale until becoming yellow with a tint of orange; its pupils shrinking into dots.

But her mind doesn’t put much thought to it, even passing it off as natural, and something about it makes a fuzzy feeling grow inside her. It’s not warm nor cold, but its…nice. The last time she felt something this good, was when she about to break the sound barrier.

Her! Doing an amazing feat like that would have given her a spot in the Wonderbolts. Would have…? Her smile falters, I…I joined the academy. I’m sure I did, but… A small voice is yelling at her, but its muffled by the fuzzy feeling that’s nearly overtaken her entire body.

She doesn’t know the answer, but she knows its bad, even painful to remember. So why remember?

She doesn’t want to remember, it would be a mistake to, but it would also be a mistake not to. She caused something, that much she knows, and forgetting that mistake is worse than causing it.

What was it…what…was… Her thoughts become heavy, and the dog’s, pale amber eyes are slowly filling her vision.

The moment feels surreal. Nothing matter right now. Not the past, not the future, but only the present alongside the cute doggy.

She blinks, but it’s enough to break eye contact and let her gaze wander somewhere else. She spots an open box, and hanged on its side is the reason why she left it for tomorrow.

A full body jumpsuit with a lightning bolt running from the neck to the stomach. Although there are thousands like it, and replicas sold in store for costumes, this one is unique. For that torn fabric on the chest area is prove of the tragedy she almost caused.

Lightning Dust closes her eyes and puts pressure on her forehead with a hoof. It does little to alleviate the migraine threatening to split her head.

The next second she’s blinking in bewilderment as her eyes search left and right, How did I get here? She recalls leaving unpacking for later for…reasons she rather not deal with right now. Then about the couch and how annoying the cold was getting. Did I sleep walk? ‘Great’. I do have to see that psychiatrist after all.

*Whine* It snaps her attention back at the table. On top is a strange puppy that sitting with its tail waggling and tongue hanging on its side.

“How did you get here?” Her brows furrow, Did I…even ‘better’. Now my head is playing tricks on me.

*Whine* During her musing, the dog jumped from the table, and is now cuddling her foreleg.

To anyone looking, the doggy’s head looks like the softest and most adorable thing to be cuddled with! On Lightning’s end, however, its as if a bag of ice is rubbing her leg, making her body feel as if its been splashed by a bucket of cold water.

“Get off!” With a quick swipe, the dog is roughly pushed under the table. “*Pant* Stupid dog,” her heart’s beating faster. Lightheadedness comes next. She wipes a bead of sweat before muttering through clenched teeth, “I swear, if I’m allergic to that mud, I will-”

*Creek* Her ears perk up. The table has a crack going from one end to the next.
The pegasus narrows her gaze at it.

An entire web of cracks forms the next moment before they’re send to the sides by a big figure.

“What” her gaze moves up from the long, but bony legs of the creature “the…” her ears fold against her head as her gaze passes its chest, covered with random-sized spikes as baby-blue sparks surge around them, to its eyes filled completely by a pale blue color.

It growls at her with its long, narrow muzzle with veins popping all around.

“hay?” She ends weakly before the beast pounces at her with its razor fangs.

“Last check for the night, Spike.” The Princess of Friendship is pacing around, head held high and with a content smile.

The drake is holding a quill in a claw and a scroll in the other. He’s near one of the dozens of crystal bookshelves that came with the castle, packed to the brim with books from libraries around Equestria. It was petition Twilight made to Princess Celestia some days ago, and Her Highness was more than happy to see it done in the fastest manner possible.

“Already ahead of you, Twilight. I already stacked every book Cloudsdale send us by category, author, year published and title.” He finishes with a proud grin while checking off an item from the list.

“You did?” Twilight is giving him her best puzzled look. She glances at a single bookshelf, a notably large bookshelf with sixteen spacious shelves, then back at spike. A short baby dragon that barely reaches her shoulders without his spikes. “How?”

“Ladder, duh.” He points to a wall far behind him. Twilight follows it with her gaze and sees a step ladder.

“Spike, that’s a step ladder.” She deadpans.

Now its his turn to give her a puzzled look, “Isn’t that the same thing as a ladder?”

“No. A ladder is a vertical set of steps or rugs composed of metal, wood or rope with the purpose to reach objects or areas above your reach. A step ladder serves the same function, but is composed of two ladders combined by a hinge on both top ends, sometimes attached with-”

“So it’s a ladder?” Spike interrupts Twilight before she got into the ‘zone’.

“For basic function, yes, but-”

“Then it’s a ladder!” He beams.

She releases an exasperated sigh, “What’s next on the list.”

His lips curl into a toothy grin, “That was the last of it.”

“What?” Her eyes widen. She teleports the scroll in front of her, finding out that every item is indeed checked off. “But when did you have the time to cross-check the list we sent to Canterlot’s library to the books they sent us?”

Once she floats the scroll down, Spike’s worried expression comes into view, “Um, Twilight, what time is it?”

Her eyes narrow in thought, “8:23.”

“It’s…10:49.”

“WHAT!” Her eyes give the impression they’re bugging out, “But how? I took Advanced Incantations and Charms to my bedroom for a quick read.”

With a cross of his arms and a deadpan expression, Spike says “You planned on reading the table of contents and the first ten pages, right?”

Her cheeks grow warm as her lips curl into a sheepish smile, “I...see what happened now. Sorry for making you do all the work Spike.”

He smile proudly with a nonchalant air around him, “Naaah,” he waves off the apology with a claw, “why do you think I’m your number one assistant?”

“My only assistant,” she said it as a matter-of-fact with a sisterly tone.

*Who* Looking over her shoulder, Owlicious is perched on her barrel. Her second assistant is giving her his best accusatory glare with his wingtips on his hips.

“Oh, right,” she looks back at Spike, “number one-morning-assistant.”

“Hey!” It’s his turn to form his own glare, but directed at the number one-nighttime-assistant, “Twilight has one, one, number one assistant,” he points at his chest with his thumb/claw, “and his name is-”

*Who*

“Who? I mean m-”

*Who*

Irritation crawls into his voice, “I mean m-”

*Who*

Claws meeting face echo throughout the silence, making Twilight hold back a chuckle so her two number one assistants don’t focus on her. Last thing she wants to answer is who is her number one assistant, for there’s going to be a heart broken and a disappointed alicorn for not handling the situation better.

If only Spike would work like this without incentives. I guess some things will be the same no matter what. The drake and the owl continue their heated debated as Twilight turns her gaze to a window.

Luna’s skies are as beautiful as the day she gained her full powers, and Twilight has only seen wonders after the night has been returned to her – not that Celestia hasn’t done a good job maintaining the night(though it pales in comparison), but Luna has been revolving the constellations around Equus again, something Celestia wasn’t able to do. So constellations that were only visible one side of the world are now seen in other continents in cycles. Even the spectrum of the night appears livelier than before, like applying retouch varnish to a worn out painting.

I wonder what surprises this night will bring.

*Sniff-Sniff* *Sniff-Sniff* Screw moves around with her nose on the ground. Sniffing the side of a house, the middle of the street, and occasionally a random pony who, upon sniffing, backs away very slowly, indecisive between an expression of confusion or disturbed, and moves on to the other side of the street.

She scrunches up her face in concentration as the scent is strong enough to follow. She paces forward, nose on the ground and on the side of the street where the scent is the strongest. It didn’t take long for her to stop and look at an empty alleyway, but her nose tells her there’s something hiding beneath the shadows. And it kicks her primal instincts on.

She enters it with a searching eye, gazing at the walls, up in the air, the ground, anywhere were something can jump on her. As to why she’s so vigilant of everything, even Screw doesn’t know the answer...it just feels safer doing so.

A dark pool – noticeable under the House’s pale shadow – grows a few feet away. Screw stops with a curious gaze as three set of black claws emerge. A round head with two ant-like antennas and hollow, beady eyes follows, then the rest of its equally small, bipedal body.

The Shadow stands with a swaying motion, but just its presence draws a *Growl* from the Earth Pony.

Neither move, but Screw’s nose scrunches again. The smell she’s been following got stronger all of a sudden.

The creature that appeared on her search takes a step forward, but it’s crushed into dust by a giant broadsword.

*Whine* Screw’s blood runs cold; her ears fold against her head as she takes in the appearance of the newcomer.

It’s a bipedal being with full body armor, gleaming white like the moon itself, and thicker gear around its chest and rectangular shoulder plates. It’s helm’s visor are two narrow slits, with a pattern of holes where its mouth should be.

The sight alone would make anyone take a step back from fear. Its height, however, twice from a regular pony – passing the roofline of the houses next to it – is what gives her pause from doing any sudden movement. Only now she realizes, or dazed out of the fear long enough, to see its standing outside the alleyway, and that broadsword - dull on appearance - is close to the stranger’s height.

It’s clear Screw doesn’t know what that thing is, but it’s kept its head bowed to where the ant was standing. If she’s careful about it, maybe she can get away without-it shifts its head up, fixing its empty gaze on her.

Screw wanted to turn around and scream for her sister to save her. Her legs remained in place against her wishes, and the cold slowly dulls her senses.

Her eyelids grow heavy as the floor looks more inviting by the second. Her world darkens; the giant knight retreats its sword back to its side, gaze still in place and the pony’s eyes are about to close.

A jolt runs through her body, snapping her eyes open and giving her the chance to bolt from the scene. She’s galloping down the street fast enough that houses zoom past her. Failing to notice how desolate the street is. How the only sounds are her own clopping. That despite several homes having the lights on, no noise is made or shadows seen from the curtains draped over. How back on the alley she escaped from, the knight walks away on a casual pace.

A pony – a two toned mane of blue and pink curled into buns, creamed coat, and a cutie mark of wrapped candies – trots in its direction with her eyes closed. She takes notice of the knight after she collides muzzle first onto its armored leg.

“Oow! Oh Celestia, I’m so sorry. I should have been paying more attention-” She opens her pale blue eyes, pupils contracted into tiny dots. She quickly bows down, “Forgive me, I didn’t know it was you. I promise it won’t happen again.”

The knight regards the pony for a moment, then walks around her and continues on its way. The mare sighs in relief, brushes a drop of sweat from her forehead and resumes her trotting with a tuneful *Hum*.

Author's Note

If I have to admit anything, is that I'm going into unknown territory by including Screw into the story. There are reasons why I added her though, but I rather not spoil the fun.

On another note, I think this is a good spot to pause the story and work in the other ones I have. This is not a hiatus since I will come back after a certain time, like after two months I'm guessing. ...So yeah.

Until Next Time!