Societal Problems (third person perspective)
“Deep into the forest noises can be heard and light streams down through the thick branches. Small creatures scamper about, hiding from the vicious creatures which prey on them. The forest is thick and dark despite the light that shines in it. Evil creatures lurk about, growling in the depths of the shadows. This is a place ponies stay away from, fearing the demons that call this place their home. Very few ponies dare to come near, fewer venture through it. Only one known friend to the ponies lives in these dark depths. We leave her alone; she leaves us alone…”
A blue pelt streaks across the vision of a small vole. It runs quickly, trying to escape the predator who stalks him. It runs into a hole, but not fast enough. The deep blue leg of its stalker reaches down and picks it up, tossing it into the air and back onto the ground. Dazed, the vole can do nothing but cower in fear, knowing its fate. Claws slash at it and blood splatters the ground; the vole is nothing more than a pile of bones and tufts of fur. Smiling, the creature walks off, now well fed and ready to return to its abode. After the few minute walk back it opens the door with its clawed hoof and slams it shut. This life, it’s so... repetitive, it thought to itself. Perhaps I would be better visiting that town at the edge of my forest. While it ponders this it realises that it has not seen a certain zebra in a while. Perhaps she could help? it wonders. It walks to its nest and lies down, deciding to sleep on it and visit Zecora the next day. Sleep does not find the poor creature though. It tosses and turns in its nest and decides it should pace. That is typical for it. When sleep will not come and when ingenious strikes it is always pacing. It is a wonder the dirt in the nest hasn’t worn into a deep hole. Hours pass and still no thought of sleep enters its brain. Back and forth. It cannot think of what to do. Back and forth. It has lived in the forest for so long that it does not know what to do besides prey on weaker creatures. Back and forth. Its legs collapse but its mind keeps reeling. What would it do? What could it do? It lies there still, listening to the sounds of the forest outside. Another hour passes and it still has no clue what it should do. Sleep finally finds the creature, but it is not calm. Waves of nightmares break through the defenses as darkness surrounds its mind. It wakes up several times screaming from fear; screaming into the night as the only images in its mind are those of pure evil. Nothing could satiate the fear it feels, yet it always finds sleep once more. The nightmares never stop, never cease. They say there is a pony who can control dreams, it once thought to itself long before. The sun slowly rises outside and warm light enters the den. It is at this point it decides it is time to pay another visit to Zecora for something calming. The trek through the forest is long and boring, a quick hunt rarely. It misses the first two pieces of prey and takes another hour to even find something: a scrawny mouse it can eat quickly to keep its energy up. After what feels like days it reaches Zecora's hut. It knocks on the door and as an answer Zecora invites it in. "I see in your face, a fear has risen. Tell me then, Bast, another bad vision?" "Yes, they don't stop," it explains, its voice deeper than many stallions. It comes out powerful yet quivering, showing just how perturbed it really is from the visions of darkness. "I also need your opinion," it adds. As it explains everything Zecora listens intently. “Yes Bast, I hear your plea. But I’m afraid, for you see: for me to help, my help you need, nothing I say is guaranteed. The dreams you see at night they feed upon your plight. For them to stop, the end you seek, you cannot feel like you are meek. When you are ready to sleep, as a good measure, deny their power aloud and you will find pleasure,” Zecora suggested in her usual tone of rhyming. The creature named Bast listens carefully and accepts Zecora’s words comfortingly. True, this could work, it thinks to itself. As Bast is lost in thought his eyes gaze mindlessly at Zecora, memorising for the umpteenth time the exact pattern of stripes on her black and white body. His own body is a deep blue with lighter tufts of fur in his pointed ears. His paws clash slightly against the blue as lighter grey fur. His body is built like a smaller pony but with odd features that set him apart. His overall stature is that of a cat. His feet are paws with a slightly cylindrical look to them, making them look similar to hooves but not quite as shapely. At the end of each paw are four little divots of fur that were an outline of black, each housing a claw sharp as a thistle. His somewhat groomed fur flows smoothly down his back, ending at his tail, which protrudes as far out as more than half of his body length, with a stripe of lighter greyish-blue fur about three centimetres wide that starts seven centimetres from the end. “Thank you,” Bast says politely. There is a short pause in which Zecora leaves to make tea and biscuits. When she returns Bast is still standing in the same place as before, his awkwardness easy to read by anypony. After bidding him to take a seat, which he does willingly, Zecora gives him a cuppa and a few biscuits. He sips the tea and nibbles on a biscuit, silently reminding himself to go hunting after this for something more filling. After an hour of talking Bast is ready to leave. He stands up, his tea empty and his biscuits eaten, and turns to Zecora. “Thank you,” he says. He walks out silently to go on a quick hunting trip. By the time Bast returns home it is late afternoon and he is quite fatigued. He walks into his nest room and flops onto the moss nest in the centre of the room, where Bast sleeps until night.
When the moon is high in the sky Bast wakes up tiredly. He sighs outwardly. Another long night, I suppose, he thinks to himself. He takes a quick stretch before leaving his nest and exiting his small cabin. Admittedly, this is his favourite time to be in the forest. The night sounds are dampened by the sleeping creatures that lurk within. He keeps his ears pricked in wait for the sound of anything running around. After a while of just wandering Bast hears something in the brush behind him. He turns his ears back and listens intently but there is no stir. He walks on and not but a few steps later he hears more rustling. He growls lowly and stops, listening. Once again it goes away before he can find the source. He stalks carefully forward and as soon as he hears the noise he pounces into the bushes, pinning the creature underneath him. As soon as he recognises the creature beneath him he gets off. It is another of his own species, one he knew well. Her pelt is sleek and silvery in the moonlight. Her tail is the lightest fur on her body and her ears are darkest at their tips. Her hair during the day is grey-silver and blends well in the rocky recesses of the forest. Her size is smaller but she is still a formidable opponent in battle. Having taken down several timber-wolves when she was much younger, it was no wonder she managed to get so high in the rankings. "Neith,” Bast greets coldly. “Come to scold me once more?" his deep voice rang out. "You don't listen when we tell you, you never visit. You even speak like them. You made this choice and we do not back you," Neith responds coldly, standing up. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't do it. Now, I have my own mission, I will be back," Bast retorts as another appears from beyond the underbrush. "Where could you possibly be going at this time of night? On your own no less!" the other creature calls out. Neith’s guard was only a small amount bigger than her with a less rumbling voice than Bast's. "I cannot answer that." "Cannot, or will not?" she asks. "Remember our rules, you stay away from their society." With these words the three part ways and Bast heads to Ponyville, lost in thought and feeling treacherous. The lights in Ponyville are dim, not many ponies are awake at this time of night, or early morning as it was when the deep blue creature finally made it to the edge of the forest. Looking through the trees from the edge of the forest, all Bast can see is fields. Somewhere among there, not too far is a small hut. The path to it is clear but Bast can smell that one pony in particular passes through here many times each day. In fear, he decides to trek through a different path that leads inside the field and go away from the hut. Minutes pass as Bast carefully travels, feeling oddly unprotected without the cover of the trees. He moves carefully, keeping sure there is nothing following him. About an hour of this and a new building appears in his vision, a large red and strangely shaped building in the middle of a large field and surrounded by trees. Bast's stomach growled and he realises this is probably the perfect place to stop and hunt. Upon reaching the tree line, Bast is already smelling mice that run through the fields, and by the smells there is nothing stopping them. He stalks among the short grass, trying to hunt with a lack of cover. He finds that this is unnecessary, though, as when he finds a mouse it just sits there in front of him nibbling on a seed and lets Bast catch it. Blimey, these mice own these woods, Bast thinks to himself. He wanders to the grain fields where he figures he will have better chance at hiding and hunting, and more mice for him to eat. As he suspected, there are more mice in the wheat fields, which are high enough for him to stalk through. He spends several minutes catching, killing, and eating the mice, oblivious to the orange mare who has walked into the fields to tend them and is now watching the unknown creature hunting the mice that she has so much trouble dealing with. "Hey!" She calls out happily. At the sound of her voice Bast's ears prick and his head turns sharply towards the sound. Noticing he is being watched he drops the mouse in his mouth and runs off in the direction of the trees to find a place to hide. Following behind him the mare calls out: "Ah jus' want to thank ya for the mouse problem!" Bast keeps running as there is nowhere to hide. Some time during all of this he doubles around and manages to get lost and there is no time to find a scent trail to follow. Eventually the orange mare gives up on catching him and goes back to her chores. Bast keeps running until he leaves the trees and finds a worn path which leads somewhere he does not want to find out, so he runs opposite of where he thinks leads to the town. I should have listened! I should never have come here! Bast thinks to himself as he continues down the path and slows his pace to walking again and keeps travelling along the trail. The sun is high in the sky by the time Bast approaches Ponyville and he realises he has been going the wrong way, but there is no going back as there is now something behind him. Bast runs ahead to get away from the unknown intruder and runs right in the middle of the everyday life of Ponyville. He looks around frantically seeing unknown contraptions, ponies everywhere, and more than he could ever describe in his life. His heart beats faster each second. It is loud, too loud! He needs to get away so he runs once more through the streets and sidewalks, racing past every face that turned to look at him. Eventually he lands in a dark alleyway and sits down, exhausted from the exercise he was getting that day. This was a bloody terrible idea! he thinks to himself as he sits up, panting in the dark and trying to calm himself. "Hello!" A happy voice peeps from the shadows, startling Bast. He quickly turns around to see a bubble-gum pink mare standing behind him. He freezes and stares at her, slowly backing out of the alley before noticing the noise outside. Knowing he is trapped, Bast takes a springing leap and lands behind the mare, jumping over the wall and escaping the alley, heading in the direction of the only noticeable tree in the town: Golden Oak Library. Bast walks inside and closes the door. "Be right there!" A cheerful voice calls out. Bast hears her and looks around frantically for a place to hide. A purple unicorn appears and then gapes at Bast. "Um... who are you?" she asks quizzically. Bast keeps his mouth closed and makes sure to keep his claws sheathed. "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," Twilight says slowly, not fully aware of what she is looking at. Bast opens his mouth to respond and Twilight stares at him, noticing his fangs. Bast realises his mistake and immediately closes his mouth as he turns to leave, only to be blocked by a purple aura that levitates him into the air. "W-what are you?!" Twilight exclaims excitedly. She doesn’t wait for an answer and pulls Bast down to her experiment room. She connects him up to some machinery that seems to be spitting out mysterious white stuff with confusing glyphs on it. "What are you?" Twilight repeats to herself as Bast steels himself to speak. "C-catpony," his voice rings out.
