Showmare

It was dark, the tall bare trees adding an element of dread to the forest. Trixie felt an oppressive feeling blanket the area, forcing her to take each step carefully. Her hoofsteps cracked the silence that filled the air. She could sense eyes watching her movements, eager to see what the stranger wanted from Everfree Forest.

The answer became clear when she reached the large mouth of a familiar cave. All the creatures watching left, knowing the foolishness of approaching the cave. They knew the insanity in seeking it out. They knew the terror of it's occupant. They wanted nothing to do with the Ursa Minor.

Trixie did not care. Her target was inside, and so she entered. She walked down the wide opening, seeming to travel the throat of a great beast. She could hear the Minor, it's snores echoing throughout the cave. She felt the fear rise within her, threatening to boil over. She ignored it. She was here to banish her terror, to kill the source. She was here to conquer the fear at last.

However, when she rounded the corner, she found herself unable to move. Being face to face with the Minor proved too much. No matter how her mind protested, her body refused to budge. She could only watch in horror as the beast awoke, turned it's attention to her, and crush her under it's gargantuan paw.

**********

Trixie yelped, springing into a sitting position on her bed. Her breath was short and sporadic, as she checked her surroundings. She felt relieved that she found her self in her room, rather than in a cave. Realizing she wasn't in any danger, she worked on slowing down her breathing to a relaxed rate.

Twice in one day. she thought. This is not a good sign. Her breathing was much more controlled, but she felt in no way tired. Deciding she ought to occupy herself, she got out of bed, and took a moment to check the room for signs of unwanted guests.

It was dark, signaling to her that she had awoken during the night. Looking around, her room showed no signs of invasive visitors. Her mirror was on it's stand in the corner. The magic resistors she used to train were in their container. Her food cabinets were still full. The only sign that someone was ever in the room was her bed. It was a single mattress on the floor; the single blanket was crumpled from her tossing around.

Determining that everything was in place, she decided to crawl back into bed. She laid still, willing herself to enter back into the comfort of sleep. Yet, it just wouldn't happen. Every time she felt a wave of somnolence pass over her, the image of a giant paw made of the night sky would flash in her mind. Each time, it put her on high alert, waking her from potential sleep. Her frustration grew, as she found relaxation harder and harder to obtain.

After a good half-hour of failed attempts to rest, she gave up. She decided it would be best if she found something else to occupy her time. An internal debate started over whether to play around with the magical resistors, or to go spend time in the training room. She felt a soft nudge in the back of her mind tell her to try the room. Trixie had learned a while ago that the soft nudge usually knew better than she did. Whether it was instinct, or some otherworldly power, it somehow knew just what to do. So she decided to listen, and head to the training room. She figured that nobody would be there anyway.

Trixie headed out into the dim corridor, making sure to lock her door with a magical combination tumbler. It was very unlikely that anybody would be around to mess with her room, as she was the only one that lived at the arena. She remembered how she timidly explained that she had no home to Filthy, when she first started. Somehow, he had negotiated with the other owners to give her a storage room that had been vacant for months. Trixie wondered if Filthy had told them something ridiculous. Something like she was a willing mare. Knowing how he worked, it wouldn't surprise her. It would also explain some of the looks she got. Thankfully, none of them ever approached her. She probably scared them too much.

As Trixie approached the lit doorway of the training room, she heard a soft thumping noise from within. She stifled a groan when she realized that it was the sound of hooves on a punching bag. Guess there would be somebody to bother her. She almost decided to give up on the idea of training, but curiosity took hold. She wanted to know who could be training at this time.

Peeking her head around the corner of the doorway, Trixie allowed her eyes a second to adjust to the light coming out. The smell of stale sweat was thick, assaulting her nose powerfully, as the thumping filled the room with it's echoes. Her eyes adjusted, Trixie turned her attention to the source. The punching bag jerked back and forth slightly; powerful hits landing in quick succession on the surface. Brown hooves came in contact with the bag in practiced and potent combinations. Sweat poured from the coal black mane resting over focused, cold blue eyes. Trixie was impressed at how serious New Guy was taking the exercise. She also felt fear. The same fear that she felt when he had caught the attention of Swift.

Trixie entered the room quietly, leaning herself on the wall next to the door. She found herself mesmerized by the rhythm that was being played played before her eyes. She watched as New Guy tirelessly beat on the bag, hoping not to disturb his concentration. However, she wasn't as successful as she hoped. As she watched on, New Guy's ears twitched slightly. Stopping his hits, he turned his head, focusing his cold glare onto Trixie.

"What?" he asked flatly, turning his body to be in line with his sight.

"Huh?" she said, tensing slightly.

"You're starting at me." he said, not changing his expression.

"How could Trixie not, handsome?" she asked, relaxing into her flirty attitude.

He stood there for a moment, seeming unaffected by the question. Trixie raised an eyebrow, wondering what caused the pause. "Are you going to leave?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Why should Trixie?" she asked, "She's enjoying the show. Very impressive moves, if you ask her."

"I don't want an audience." he stated.

"Why not? You could teach the others a thing or two."

"I'm not here to teach anybody anything. Especially you."

"Me? What do you have against Trixie?"

"I'm supposed to rematch you."

"Ah." Trixie didn't know how she forgot that. Though, she never cared to remember such things before. "Guess that would be a good reason not to show Trixie anything."

"Does that mean you'll leave?"

"Hardly. Trixie is looking for a way to distract herself."

"In the middle of the night?" New Guy said, a tone of incredulity in his voice.

"She had trouble sleeping."

"Not my problem."

"Well, Trixie is staying, with or without your approval."

New Guy went quiet, sill staring at Trixie. After a long moment of silence, she started to shift a bit, getting a bit creeped out by the stare. Several moments later, he responded. "Fine."

Trixie blinked. "What?"

"Fine. Don't bother me, and you can stay."

"Huh. Guess you like an audience after all, don't y-"

"Find something to occupy yourself. I don't want you staring."

"Says the one who seems to have perfected the art."

"Just do it." he snorted.

"Fine."

New Guy turned back to the bag that received his earlier beatings, and took his stance. His front right leg was in line with the bag, as he slanted himself, giving access to his back right leg. Letting out a slow breath, he focused on the target in front of him. Suddenly, he started. Jabs, straights, and kicks flew in combos seamlessly. Trixie felt the awe and fear return as she witnessed first hand his movements. She remembered him being good. Very good. But the display she was seeing was on a whole new level.

Shaking her head, Trixie cast her focus over to a punching bag next to her. She came here to clear her head, and she wasn't about to waste anymore time focusing on somebody else's training. Taking stance, she pushed everything in her mind out, and replaced it with the thought of lashing out at the bag. Within a minute, she was lost in the rhythm of her strikes.