She was beautiful.
Perhaps this was the reason he watched her, every day, when the sun was weak. When the sky became orange and red with its blood, when the round, glowing moon awoke.
She would lay in the meadow just outside the forest, and she would sing. Her voice was quiet, but as beautiful as she was on the outside. It was sweet. Her whole aura was this way. Her pink mane fell in cascading locks around her perfect face, and it would shine in the moonlight. Such gorgeous, glorious eyes she must have had, but he could never get close enough to see. Long, graceful legs, folded feathered wings, everything about the mare was perfect. If it was possible, more so.
How he wished to cross the swaying grasses to her side. How he longed to leave the darkness, protection of his forest, to sit beside her. But alas, to do so would frighten her beyond belief. He had watched her for so long he knew her ways. Terrified of her own shadow, the poor dear.
How could she ever love a beast?
And so he was confined to the very edge of the forest, lulled by her song and graced by her beauty. And when the moon had risen to the highest point in the star-lit sky, she would rise, cross the dewy field, and vanish within her warm cottage. At this point in the night, he would always wait until the lights in the windows snuffed out, and all was quiet. And he would retreat, sourly, back into the woods. He'd never admit it, but the curled, pointed trees and dark, stretching shadows began to bother him. Always a little more after each visit to the mare's domain.
He would return to his cave, buried deep within a cliff face and shrouded by vines. He would curl into the deepest recesses he could find, and he would think about the shy yellow pegasus.
~
He hated morning. Loathed the sun. Refused the day.
Blinking his eyes blearily at the daylight, his first thought was the fair pegasus, who undoubtedly would be awake. She awoke early, always feeding her precious animals at the break of dawn. Then perhaps she would take a nap, and later as she awoke, she would head off into the surrounding village. She spent many hours in that place. During this time he would become restless, having nothing to do with himself. Usually he would pace the edge of the forest, constantly awaiting her return. Dying to know what she was doing. Then she would return, mostly with groceries, head into her cottage, and then come back outside.
And this was another time he watched her quietly from the trees.
The beautiful mare would sink into the grass of the meadow, bringing with her a tiny white rabbit. She called the creature "Angel" and always talked to it in her peaceful tone.
Oh how he hated that creature!
How it disrespected her and she was still so kind, so patient, he would never understand. He hated how she loved it so dearly, how she nuzzled it and spoiled it with treats. His lust would grow, anger boiling. He would watch, forever helpless, as the puff of white fur curled next to its master. Oh, why couldn't she see?
During this time, she would fall asleep. Poor, beautiful mare. Exhausted, from being too kind. That was her one flaw, he had noted. She was too kind.
And although she would be deep asleep, that evil rabbit would remain awake. And it would watch, ever close to the sleeping pony. It would watch him. It knew.
He didn't think he would ever be afraid of something so tiny.
~
As the days passed, he would grow more obsessed. More intrigued by every little thing she happened to do. He didn't like this feeling, for he had never felt it before. He had no name for such a thing, for he had never found a pony to be as lovely as she was. Most of the feeble race bothered him. They were loud, flashy, and always begged to be the center of attention. But not her.
She was too quiet and reserved for such antics. She knew her place. Perhaps that was why he wished to be beside her.
And as the quiet night began again, he took his usual place beneath the trees, and she in her meadow. Her song began, a soft melody he hadn't yet heard.
"Hush now, quiet now
It's time to lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now
It's time to go to bed..."
He watched as her eyes fluttered momentarily. It almost looked as though she was fighting to stay awake. And then, gentle as a feather, she splayed out and fell asleep.
At first, he was shocked. Never in her strict regime had she fallen asleep in the meadow at night. He looked up instinctually at the moon. It was but a silver crescent, barely glowing in the darkness. And it was in the high center of the sky.
She had been too tired to return to her bed.
He looked around. There was nothing but the gentle chirping of crickets. And slowly, tentatively, he walked forth from the edge of the woods. He snaked his way through the high grass, the stalks bending under his weight. And soon he had reached her, her still form right there in front of him. Reaching out, he stroked her mane.
She was even more beautiful up close. Flowing pink mane. Three perfect butterflies upon her flank. Flawless wings, not a feather out of place. Dark eyelashes hid mysterious eyes. How he wished to see those eyes.
He scooped her up tentatively, her soft breathing sending shivers down his spine. It occurred to him he had never been so close to another creature. Not in this way. He looked down upon her, suddenly realizing how delicate the yellow mare was. He carefully began the walk towards her cottage. It took only a minute, but it seemed like an eternity. Managing to squeeze into her house without breaking anything was, frankly, quite a miracle. Everything seemed so miniature. The animals stared at him from within their hiding places. He could smell their fear and tried to ignore it, instead beginning the long ascent up the stairs. He turned into a room that must have been her bedroom, warm lamps and soft blankets welcomed him.
And so did a particular white rabbit.
He froze, his eyes quickly widening. Was that fear he felt? He stared down at the creature, who glared back at him with beady black eyes. And then the rabbit moved out of the way.
He stared at the creature, the one the mare so affectionately referred to as "Angel," and only felt gratitude. He heard Angel's paw steps move away as it left the room.
He quietly moved towards her bed. Pulling back the blankets, he gently placed her down. As he tucked the pegasus in, he gazed at her face. Not like the other ponies. Not like the ponies who screamed at him in fear, who called him a monster. She was different, and he knew.
For she had only one flaw, and it was kindness.
As he stared, entranced, she opened her eyes. Turquoise blue orbs stared back at him. There was no fear, as he had thought. Only a soft peace he knew only to belong to the yellow mare. She smiled quietly, already drifting back to the dream realm.
"Thank you..."
And then her eyes closed once again, and he was left in the quiet.
"You are welcome, dearest Fluttershy."
And the dark creature returned to his cave, deep within the Everfree Forest, with a smile on his face and a heart that was warmed by a word he had finally discovered.
He was pretty sure it was called love.
