"And the apple shall be the symbol. For an apple is only an apple so long as one sees it as such. Otherwise, it can be anything you want. The tree can be a torch, but also a house. The apple, food, but also rotten. The land itself can be fertile and green, or destroyed and salted. Though the land sleeps now, it can be awakened but with a single spoken word. And the apple shall be the symbol for the land, though it may be forgotten.

And he shall walk through fields of the dead and remain unaware.

And he shall walk unknowing.

And he shall march, and with his steps heralds the end."- Excerpts from the fifth book of chaos.

The orchard was a rather calm place, all things considered. Eyes were glaring at me from beyond the shade of the trees, and something was eating something else in the trees with a loud chomping noise which reminded me of bones, like some horrible monster was eating something in the trees, eating someone.

But that would be silly, for the ground was dappled with the sun streaking through the trees. The leaves were the shade of grey normally reserved for hot chocolate. I was pierced with a feeling of homesickness, standing there and watching it all.

The crunching stopped.

A squirrel raced by.

My tail flicked, and instantly, I fell into some form of crouch. It was a grey squirrel. Probably adorable in an unfeasible way, but my stomach was growling.

And then I was stalking it, my legs moving me without my wishes, and a dark grin was smashed upon my face with all the grace of a wild cat. Oh, and it felt great. Like a pride I didn't entirely understand was pressing against me, telling me just what to do. It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Perfect. It was all I needed. It was my sun. It was my perfection. It was like wings upon my body, like a comforting friend willing to help out whenever needed. This was what the feeling was like. It was a friend who would protect me.

Oh... stalking felt so very very good. Whatever I did in it must also be as good.

Then the squirrel chirped out a questioning tone and shattered the feeling.

Hot anger burned through me, searing like a lance.

My eyes narrowed on the little creature, watching it stop in place and sniff the air. Stupid thing. How could it not notice me?

I'd make it pay for it! Stupid squirrel.

I was moving, then. It was silent. Almost completely so, I could hear myself, and clearly the squirrel could not, for if it did, it would've fled.

The sun dappled leaves soon left the sun as a cloud darted over the sun with all the grace of the slithering serpent I projected, leaping on the squirrel and destroying the life inside of it with all the ease of a single flick of taloned hands.

I stopped, the hunting grace leaving me. That's a good term for it, actually. Hunting grace. It was a good friend, and it gifted me with food.

I stared down at the corpse of the thing and poke it with the bloodied talons. Then I quickly made as much of a meal of the squirrel as I could, trying to get used to having a beak. I'd be using it for everything, best to get the hard parts out of the way already.

So I choked down the most of the raw meat of the squirrel, letting instinct guide me most of the way. I shook out the intestines, choked down the liver, did all the things I felt like I was supposed to do, then respectfully buried the bones as deep as I could to prevent a scavenger from getting at it.

The squirrel was bloody delicious, and I found myself licking the blood off of my talons long after it was gone.

The blood was enticing. If I was forced to live on nothing but squirrels, I could do it without much complaint.

The crunching started again. I jerked my head head up and searched the trees with eyes that were far better than they had ever been. There were no signs.

Crunching.

No signs.

Crunching.

No signs.

For some reason, this pattern was maddening, and igniting. I was frustrated that I could not piece it together, though for the life of me, I didn't understand what was happening, or what I should be putting together.

Then I spotted an apple core on the ground and stared at it. It was eaten by something with sharp teeth, and it hadn't been there when I had eaten the squirrel.

Then I looked up at the tree nearest to the ground.

Plunk. An apple core fell on my head. Something chittered at me.

I leaped into the tree, probably clearing about ten feet as easily as I could take a single step. The entire tree was filled with bats. Bats and apples. A large one, one that had eyes that gleamed evil, flew forward and chomped on the top of my head. "SCREEEEEEEEEEE~"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" I screeched right back at them, falling from the tree. I hit the ground with a loud thud, hundreds of bats chasing after me as I ran away through the orchard.

They had sharp teeth, these bats. A few managed to nip me easily enough, and hot blood dripped into my eyes from the original wound. It smelled delicious, like copper and inhibitions.

Then they stopped in the air and flew off. They left me blinking and bleeding on the ground.

"Bucky?!" This was most certainly NOT a bat's voice... And more than likely a pony. I was near Ponyville, after all.

"Oh, this is stupid. The squirrel probably just ran off. Why'd you even send him, Fluttershy?"

I hopped up into a tree, a few drops of blood lit up in the ground in the sun that was shining again. I froze in position, peeking through the leaves to try and find the voices.

This was actually a surprising amount of fun despite the sting to the wound on my head. The wind whistled through the trees, bringing up a few hisses of pain.

"Are you sure about what you said you saw? Bucky should've met him by now. It shouldn't take long to find a big scary griffon."

"I'll have you know that the only thing scary about griffons are their morning breath. Eeyuck." There was a pause. "And yeah, I'm pretty sure I saw a griffon in the orchard while I was flying over. He's probably lost or something after that storm. Geez fluttershy. Why are you even doubting me? When exactly have I been wrong?!" Ah. So the other voice is Fluttershy...

"Do you want me to count the ways, Dash?" And this one is dash.

Dash sputtered a little, her mind trying to catch up to her thoughts, more than likely. I knew the type. Head strong and unwilling to admit defeat.

I remained silent in the tree. I didn't want to hop down just yet.

"Oh... I sure hope Bucky is alright... Poor grey squirrel." Who the hell gives any sort of a care to the well fare of a squirrel? It's a squirrel for crying out loud. They are delicious, and considered pests. Nobody cares if you destroy them and eat them.

Not that I was going to tell them that. To them, I committed murder.

Wow. Not more than a day or two into being awake as a gryphon and I was already a murderer. And I didn't even care. Stupid squirrel.

So I decided to jump out of the tree. I hit the ground with an over dramatic thump. In front of me were two ponies, just like I had expected. One was yellow, with a pink mane. I instinctively wished to utterly terrify the hell out of the pony. She cowered as my gaze flittered over her, and I felt an odd mix of shame and pride in being terrifying.

And the other was blue, with a mane that was sculpted from the rainbow of the sky. Dash was her name.

"Hello!" I chirped out. No seriously. The expression my face made was a chirp.

Author's Note

Dalania will rise.

First there was 1. Then 2. Then 4. Then 5. Then came 6. Then there were none.

Now there are six.

Six souls.