Meadowbrook

930 ANM

Without any normal equestrians around to torment them, the bat ponies who lived in the little secluded village tended to lead long and prosperous lives, even if their everyday life was tough and hard work. It came as no surprise, thus, that the cemetry which could be found at the center of the village was mostly devoid of gravestones, only home to a few generations—and, as Pippin's body was lowered down into the hole by his family, it would become the resting place for one member of the new generation, too.

It had been a week now since the accident, but little more was known than that; though it had been painful to do so, the village had all gotten together more than once to search the charred ruins of the hay barn, but to no avail. On that note, though, nopony had been particularly engaged; to put the fire down to a simple accident was much easier.

It didn't make the fact that Pippin was gone any easier, though.

Everypony was at the funeral that evening, at moonrise, each with tear tracks marked down their cheeks. The village was small and every death, every loss of life, was personal for all. And that unity was never felt better than that day; each bat pony sat down and raised their heads into the air and, when Pippin's coffin was covered with dirt and forever concealed from the living world, they opened their mouths to show their fangs. In unison they then let out a scream the likes of which only the gathered could hear; a frequency so high that everyone else was deaf to it. A cry to say goodbye to the dead one last time.

As the call died out, each individual finishing at different times, one young mare stood up slowly. She walked towards the group gathered the closest, a bunch of moonflowers clasped under her wings. When she drew up behind an older, mauve-coloured mare, she then cleared her throat weakly and held the gift out with the claw of her wings, as was customary. It was difficult to hold them that way; it was a sign of respect.

"Excuse me? Heartstroke?" The young mare gave a watery smile as the flowers were accepted. "I... I didn't really know Pippin much, but he was always so eager. I'm... Well, I'm sorry for your loss."

Heartstroke bowed her head and nodded slowly, her eyes and fur and deep blue mane soaked with tears. She did not sniffle or whimper; her pain was silent. To do so was an old tradition for not just the village but the bat pony race as a whole, believed to show the deceased spirit that their family would be strong and make do without them—hence allowing the dead and buried to move on into Luna's enchanted land. But to do so was hard, and many a mourning relative simply hoped that their silent tears would suffice.

"Thank you for the flowers... Myst, is it not?" Heartstoke wiped away her tears with a hoof and smiled a little brighter, her slit-eyes slightly brighter. "You're little Dakota’s s-sister, unless I'm mistaken?"

The younger mare nodded her head slowly and looked around before her pale eyes landed on a little grey filly near to the back of the crowd with the largest wings anypony had ever seen. She did not talk or even listen to any conversation; the filly had always been something of a loner, the sole exception being when she spent time with her big sister. As it was, she kept herself hidden for now with her long black mane and forelock.

"Yeah, that's me." Myst gave a weak smile and took a step backwards. "She's a sweet foal, but isn't all that confident. I'd better go and... I need to check on her."

Heartstroke's nose scrunched a little and for a moment, her compaion's breath caught in her throat. But when the older mare did not sniffle or wail, only a few tears leaking from her eyes, Myst gave a sigh and began to turn away; before she could, however, she felt a hoof be placed on her flank to stop her. When she looked back, she was surprised to see that Heartsroke, rather than being hurt or distressed, looked almost happy.

"You are a good girl, Myst. I heard about your mother's illness... She's incredibly lucky to have you around." Heartstroke gave a very weak smile and then brushed a lock of Myst's mane, very nearly the same as her sister's in style and the exact same shade, from her muzzle. "You watch out for that little one, okay? Life... It can be so fleeting."

Myst frowned at the words and the hint of despair which crept into them at the end. She nodded slowly and turned away once again before she opened her wings and flew lazily towards her sister. When she landed she nuzzled the little filly behind the ears and wiped away the tears which pooled in the corner of her eyes, though little Dakota surely didn't understand quite everything that was going on. She was only eight, after all.

Or, so she had thought—at least until the little filly said, in a timid little voice, "Have you ever had a really big secret? A bad secret?"

Myst frowned and sat down, then pulling the filly into her embrace. It took her a while to find the correct words. "It helps, you know, to tell other ponies. If you're struggling."

Little Dakota shook her head and wiped her muzzle in Myst's fur, her eyes damp. "I don't think that will help me," she whispered, her voice trembling and her body unsteady. Her wings drooped open as she said so and she was quick to clamber out of her sister's lap; her head fell and her ears drooped immediately. "Don't worry. I... Just pretend I didn't say anything, okay?"

"Dakota..." Myst stood up slowly and scratched her shoulder with the claw of her wing whilst her eyes darted about. After a second of silence, however, she backed up and sighed—just as a distraction in the form of a fiery griffon caught her eye. "It's alright, Dakota. But if you ever want to talk about it, I'll be here, yeah?"

Dakota nodded slowly and gave her sister a weak grin before she lay back down and began to paw at the dusty cemetry dirt. Myst didn't have the time at that moment to stay to keep her company, however, and she instead shot through the air towards the griffon who lurked nearby.

A funeral was a private affair and, especially in bat pony culture, a vital step in the route to the afterlife. A guest of the village or not, the ambassador should not have been nearby.

It was tradition.

A scowl grew on her muzzle as Myst watched the griffon stalking about and she gritted her teeth and bared her fangs. She ruffled her leathery wings before she then looked about to check that nopony was watching and bent down to the ground so that her underbelly brushed through the dirt. She held her breath and closed her eyes as she focused on the coolness of the shadows; after a few seconds, she felt her body become lighter and her outline blurred. It would be hard for her to be detected now; just as unicorns could manipulate magic, pegasi could soar freely in the sky and earth ponies could work the land with such strength that a single buck could surely knock out armies, bat ponies had an innate connection with the shadows and darkness of nighttime Equestria. It was, most probably, a result of the circumstances of their creation; whatever the case, it gave them the ability to—almost—disappear at will.

Indeed, the griffon ambassador herself did not flinch as Myst stalked behind her, still crawling slowly on her underbelly. Her innate magic was far from the strongest—below average at best, in fact—but she had honed what abilities she did have as well as she could. In fact, the griffon ambassador only began to glance about when Myst got a mere few metres away, and even then the aforementioned still could not detect her specifically. It was only when she let her disguise slip away and tugged gently at the griffon's feathers that she was finally seen.

"Ambassador Talon Plight, is it not?"

The griffon stood, stunned, for just a moment before she closed her gawping beak and nodded slowly. "You would be correct in that assumption, filly." She took a few breaths before she then said, "You have caught me at a pretty bad time, annoyingly. My men and I are meeting at the inn, and we—"

Myst raised a hoof and pressed it to the griffon's beak, clamping it shut. She ignored the angered scowl when she then instead said, "What purpose is there for you to be here then?"

The griffon shrugged slightly and plucked a feather from her chest, twirling it inbetween her claws before she blew it closer to the young mare before her. It landed on her muzzle and her light blue eyes snapped inwards to follow it. She remained in that position for a mere second before she removed it with her hoof and tucked it behind her ear, then focusing her attention back on her companion to await an answer. It was a while before the griffon finally gave in and began to speak.

"I knew Pippin. Or, rather, I knew of him. We..." Talon Plight scratched behind her ear before she finished off with, "We talked."

Myst took a step backwards, eyebrows raised, and fiddled with the feather behind her ear with the claw of her wing. "You talked. And yet, you arrived the same day that Pippin died—which can only beg the question, when did you talk?"

Talon Plight was quiet for a moment before her frown grew greater. "You are accusing me, aren't you? I would say, we talked before the... accident. I found him quite a pleasant lad; I was, and I still am, more than a little hurt." The griffon growled quietly and turned away, wrapping her tail around a mouse as it scarpered across her path, almost concealed—but not quite—by the nighttimes's cool veil. She paused for a mere second before she then tossed it into the air and grabbed it in her beak, biting only a few times before she swallowed it whole. She then waved a claw quickly. "But I am not the sort to dwell on the past. So I bid thee farewell, and do so hope you forget these foalish accusations."

998 ANM

"Scootaloo!"

Nightlark, who had been watching quietly from the kitchen door, hobbled forwards at an impressive speed for a mare of her age. A slightly displeasured frown could be seen on her muzzle, the midday sun unpleasant. Before she could reach out a hoof to the filly's side, however, she halted in mid stride at the massive, holey grin which met her gaze.

"Look, Nanna! My tooth came out! My first tooth, Nanna!"

Nightlark was quiet for a few moments and twitched slightly in shock; her lightening grey fur blew in the slight breeze which surrounded her for just a moment. It passed a second later and she smiled, then ruffling little Scootaloo's hair.

"Oh, squirt. You worried me there!"

Scootaloo pouted a little and her tiny wings opened to droop at her side. "Nanna! Don't call me squirt! I'm getting big, see?" As she spoke she stretched up higher, standing on the tips of her hooves. The old bat mare giggled a little and nodded before she slowly picked the filly up higher with her wing.

"Of course you are, my big girl. Now come on, we need to get that under your pillow for tonight!"

"Huh?" Scootaloo hopped down from her grandmother's leathery wing and ruffled her own small feathers, a frown on her face. She then dug at the dirt slowly before she continued, "What's tonight?"

Nightlark rolled her eyes and bent down slowly with a wince when her old limbs clicked and creaked a little. "Did that daughter of mine never tell you about the tooth fairy?"

Scootaloo was only silent for a moment before her eyes lit up and her wings began to buzz. She then shot upwards a foot off of the ground and sped inside, but not before she lost her ability to defy gravity and crashed down to the dirt. Her muzzle coated in mud, she then leapt up the steps and zipped inside the house, ignoring Iolite's protests as she traipsed through the kitchen and up to her bedroom.

967 ANM

Dakota lay still, her chest heaving and her ears flicking as she cowered beneath the covers of her bed. The room was cold and dark, in an eerie manner as opposed to the beauty of the nighttime; she had tried to light a fire in the fireplace more than once but it had gone out every time in a rush of wind—even though the windows were closed. But that was the least of her worries right now; currently, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong, very wrong. Her fur stood on end and her eyes darted about at each little shadow whilst her wing opened slowly to grasp the long-broken lamp from the beside table. Her mind swum at each little thing and her imagination morphed into anxiety in a rush of terror. And all the while, she couldn't get that voice out of her head; a young colt's gentle humming, interrupted only now and then by a quiet intake of breath.

"One."

Dakota yelped and pulled the covers up higher as she clenched the lamp in her wing. But nothing came to eat her; the room was just as it had been before.

A creak sounded from outside the bedroom, the sound of a pony walking across old floorboards. Something loud screamed in her mind; it was a struggle to assure herself that it was just the kettle whistling. And, all the while, the hardly audible humming continued.

"Two."

Oh, Luna. Dakota whimpered when the voice sounded again and dragged herself from the bed, both wings open and fangs bared as she slowly trod closer to the door. The handle gave a piercing scream as she placed her hoof on it—no, no, that was her imagination—but she very nearly did so herself when she opened the door to find—absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

Her hooves still trembled as she walked and the lamp in her quivering wing would probably be of little use if somepony were to jump out. But, as she unwillingly poked her head into each room—with each that she explored, the humming grew louder—she found yet again that everything was alright. Nothing was knocked or dropped or damaged; everything was just as dusty as it had been before.

"Three."

The door roared as the knocker was smashed into the wood, the sound reverberating around the entire house. Dakota did scream as it did so then; a moment later, she covered her mouth with her wing and leapt back against the wall, at least ensuring that side of her was safe as she then inched her way downstairs. The humming had stopped and everything was completely silent—or, at least, it was that way until the hammering sounded again.

The hallway seemed so tiny now; there was no where to run, no where to hide. But whoever—whatever—was outside was not going to settle for being ignored. And so, with a heartbeat that could have been some sort of drumroll, she rose up onto her rear hooves and took a glance through the peephole, her body trembling. But it had been boarded over long ago; there was to be no seeing through it now.

There was nothing else for it. Dakota held the lamp tighter as she slowly placed the key into the hole and turned it. There was a slight click when the lock was released and, with eyes as wide as dinner plates, she threw the door open and prepared to attack.

"Mum."

Dakota froze in her actions and stared down at her son in shock as she dropped the lamp with a loud smash. She then took an unsteady step backwards and raised a hoof as she folded away her twitching wings.

"Ink Splash! I... What are you doing here?"

The young unicorn stallion before her raised an eyebrow and pushed past so that he was inside the house. He wasted no time in switching on the lights, much to Dakota's relief.

"I'm checking on you. Doctor's orders. Doesn't want you to be alone so soon after... everything." The stallion shrugged a little and progressed through the hallway, taking a glance into the lounge before he flopped down at the table. "Eh, not bad. This place really takes "old fashioned feel" to the next level, mind you." The stallion's eyes moved down to the now-broken lamp on the floor and he frowned before he levitated the pieces into the bin. "On which note, what exactly where you doing with that?"

Dakota gave a nervous smile as she followed her son into the kitchen where she promptly washed her hooves. She sighed as the water washed over them, but it didn't remove the eerie force that now coated her fur as she had hoped. "I... I thought there was an intruder, Ink. That's all."

Ink Splash raised an eyebrow and slouched back in his chair before he folded his hooves. "And you didn't think to look out the window... Why?"

Dakota opened her mouth to reply before she closed it again, a frown now on her muzzle. "That would probably have been a better idea," she whispered, her ears flicking slightly. She then shook her head and pasted a grin there instead before she trotted to her son's side and said in as chirpy a voice as she could muster, "C'mon, I'll make breakfast."

Ink Splash was quiet for a moment before he relaxed a little and grunted, "Eggs'd be great. Without the bacon this time, Mum; I haven't got your fangs."

Dakota laughed a little and nodded before she turned away and began to search through her bags, finding the box of eggs that she knew she had packed—but not unpacked—the day before. Then rummaging around for a frying pan, she banged it down onto the stove with a generous splash of oil and quietly began to fry, a smile now on her face.

And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was still not right.

998 ANM

Iolite hummed to herself quietly as she busied herself in the kitchen, frying a few pieces of bacon with little fuss. It was, of course, only being made for herself and her mother; Scootaloo and her husband Snapshot were both incapable of eating it. But she was not, and had never been, the sort of pony who would deny herself of something so delectable just because half of her family were not partial to it.

"Gran!" A shrill yell broke Iolite out of her musings and she turned around lazily after she transferred a spoon to her claw so as to stir the beans which heated in the pan. At the back of the stove a seperate frying pan contained some peculiar sort of hay sausages, the likes of which Iolite and Nightlark would never touch—but Scootaloo and Snapshot swore by the stuff.

"Well, good morning, little Scoots!" Iolite chirped, laughing a little as the filly jumped into her chair. She didn't flinch as the legs wobbled; Scootaloo had done it every day since she had learned to walk, and was something of a natural—but not without a few tumbles on the way to getting so good. Nevertheless, she had a few bruises from recent mistakes; after the tenth bump, it was not quite so concerning. "What's got you in such a chirpy mood then?"

Scootaloo kept quiet and glanced out to the hallway. When she saw two ponies, her grandfather and nanna, both of whom were beginning to grey, she then squealed and beckoned for them to come over, her eyes alight. Before they could even step hoof in the kitchen, however, she raised her hoof high into the air to display her pride and joy.

"Look, everypony! Look! The tooth fairy came and everything, just like you said!" Scootaloo giggled and waved the bit in her hoof about. "I even saw the tooth fairy and everything!"

Nightlark beamed at the filly and bent down slowly so that her greying ear tufts brushed against the pegasus' orange fur. "Is that so, little one? What was she like?"

Scootaloo deflated a little and hung her head before she sighed. "I don't really know, Nanna. See, I heard her first and that's what woke me up; she was humming to herself. It was odd, because she sounded kinda like a colt." Nightlark froze and raised a hoof sharply; before she could question anything, however, the filly continued to speak. "Then there was this... Whoosh, like air through the room or something. And then she was gone, but I saw her coltfriend afterwards. I think he was looking after her."

"He..." Nightlark rose back up to her hooves, her brow suddenly drenched in sweat. She trembled when she then whispered, "What did he look like?"

Scootaloo slouched in her chair and rubbed her chin with the tip of her hoof. She then scratched behind her ears with her rearleg and said, "Well, he was a bat pony, but he wasn't like you or Gran 'cos his wings were tiny, kinda like mine!"

"And he was... he was a broad stallion, was he not? But still young."

Scootaloo nodded enthusiastically, her grin not wavering once. "You got it Nanna! Did you see him as well?"

Nightlark took a sharp inhale of breath and stepped backwards, her mouth gaping open and her ears pinned back. Her wings were drooped open and her tail was clamped to her rump. "I have seen him before, yes," she whispered, her entire body trembling. "A long, long time ago."