"I've Seen Better!"

by Tigerhorse

Rating: everyone
Tags: Zecora, Drama, Changelings, Original Character, Rainbow Dash, Adventure, Pinkie Pie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 12607

Pinkie Pie makes friends with a creature she's never seen before. It calls itself a changeling. It's running for its life.

A season one story. In the wake of a nasty storm, Pinkie stumbles across an injured changeling who is struggling with his own nature. But the Hive is not so eager to let strays run loose.

An entry in the My Little Pony Renaissance Contest. Cover by KurogeWaPony.

Published 2021-07-28 00:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-07-28 00:20:00 UTC

"I've seen better!"

Pinkie stepped around the broken branches and churned up mess of the riverbank. The storm that had come roaring out of the Everfree had nearly overwhelmed Ponyville's pegasi, and upriver from town was a mess of debris from the flash flooding.

Happily, the town itself was intact. Ponies had huddled in their homes as the rain had poured down, but once the clouds had been cleared everypony could see Ponyville had survived with only a few crushed flowerbeds and fallen roof tiles.

She'd felt the need to check on her friend Fluttershy, who it turned out had weathered the weather with no troubles, her cottage standing strong against the storm. Although at the moment she was a bit overwhelmed seeing to the various animals that had been displaced or hurt in the deluge. Pinkie had tried to help, but Fluttershy had gently ushered her out, saying the creatures would feel better resting rather than having an after-the-storm party. Pinkie wasn't sure that was right, but Fluttershy was her friend, so she'd deferred to her judgement.

Now she picked her way back to Ponyville, hopping between shattered tree trunks and other detritus cast upon the riverbanks in the hopes of finding something interesting. On her way out of town she had passed a crew of ponies clearing the mess, but they wouldn't manage to work their way this far before sunset. At least, not unless they came up with a good cleaning-up song. Or maybe if they had a river-clearing party? She mulled it over.

Something groaned behind her

Pinkie bounced up, spinning in the air to face the sound. “Hello?” she called out. “Is somepony there?” She jumped onto a big tree trunk and peered around. A heap of broken branches and a heavy log were piled up in an elbow of the river just ahead of her. She'd passed by it before without noticing anything, but now she saw what looked like a black hoof protruding from underneath the pile. It gave a slight twitch.

“Omigosh!” Pinkie said. A flush of nervous energy shot through her legs, the sort of fearful adrenaline rush that never felt good, because it meant something very bad was happening. She jumped to the pile of branches and began tearing them away, hurling them across the riverbank with abandon. Soon she revealed the pony, pinned beneath the log.

It wasn't a pony, though. Pinkie stared at the creature in wonder. It was pony-like, but instead of a colorful hide, it had a hard black integument. Two sharp fangs projected from it's mouth, and though it had a hornlike projection on its forehead and filmy insect-like wings on its back, she knew it was no kind of alicorn. She nearly jumped back in shock as she saw the holes in its legs. At first she took them to be evidence of horrendous injury, but if so, they were unrelated to the flooding and had healed over long ago.

The creature gave another wheeze, and Pinkie snapped back into focus. Whatever the creature was, it was still trapped and needed her help.

She rushed to one end of the log. It was canted up, carried by the other broken remains of trees washed up by the river, and she could just wriggle beneath it. She set her back against it and heaved up, the hard wood digging into her coat. It lifted, its weight bearing down on her as she straightened her legs. “Earth pony power, go!” she grunted. She was no Applejack, but she still had a fair bit of strength like most of her kind. Or maybe it was from hauling around party cannons so much..?

She walked forward, levering the log off the not-a-pony, branches cracking as she went. When she thought she'd gone far enough, she bucked up her hips with a final burst of strength and rolled the log forward across her neck, bouncing back as it settled free of her.

She rushed back to the creature, which was still half-buried in wood scraps and broken branches. “Are you all right?” she said. “I mean, of course you aren't all right but are you sort of all right?”

The creature gave a woozy groan. Pinkie grabbed its forelegs, a little gingerly as she was still concerned about the weird holes, and helped pull it up. “Thank you,” it murmured, then stared at its foreleg in her hoof. Its eyes grew wide. “Oh no!” it said.

Pinkie jumped as a flash of green magic rippled across the creature, its flesh transforming in an instant. Suddenly she was standing in front of... herself?

Only it wasn't herself, not really. The Pinkie in front of her had a head nearly half again as large as her own. It suddenly shrunk down to normal size, but the left ear remained oversized—even larger than how it had started. “Now that's weird,” Pinkie said.

“Sorry! Instinctive reaction,” the creature said, in Pinkie's own voice. The green rush of magic swept over it once again, and now it was a blue stallion Pinkie didn't recognize. Also, his right front hoof broadened out to the size of a dinner plate.

“Oww,” the creature said, rubbing the side of his head with the malformed hoof. Then he seemed to notice the size of it, staring with a perplexed look on his face. He concentrated and the size of the hoof shrunk down, but suddenly the joint of his knee swelled up as if to compensate.

The green magic washed over him once more, and he reverted to his initial form. “I'm not transforming right,” he said, a vague unease in his voice. He levered himself upright, swaying alarmingly.

Pinkie didn't understand any of what had just happened, but she swooped in beside him nevertheless, throwing a foreleg around his shoulders to support him. He took a few steps forward with her, leaning on her heavily. “I'm Pinkie Pie,” she said. “What's your name?”

“Elytra,” the creature responded. His ears jolted suddenly up in distress. “No, I, uhh, never mind. Forget I said that.”

Pinkie snorted. “I'm not going to forget your name, silly!”

“You should forget everything about me,” he murmured. He lurched against Pinkie, almost dragging her to the ground.

Her smile faded. “Hey, you don't look too good. Although actually I don't know what you're supposed to look like—maybe you're a very handsome whatever you are; but what I mean is I think I better get you to the doctor in Ponyville right away.”

Elytra's body tensed up against her. “No!” he said. “No town! I can't be known.”

“Yes, but...” Pinkie thought it over. “Fluttershy might be able to help, but she's more of a 'creatures who can't talk' sort of healer, and you're a creature who can talk. So that might be a problem.... Oh! I know! My new friend, Zecora. She's not even all that far away.”

Elytra straightened up, trying not to lean on Pinkie any more than he had to. “Where...?”

“She's just a little way into the Everfree Forest. Do you think you can manage a little hike?”

Elytra nodded. “The forest? Not a town?”

“Well, she's kind of a hermit.” Pinkie felt her ears droop. “We... uhh... didn't give her a very good reception at first. And some of that's my fault. But,” she perked up, “that's all yesterday's cupcakes.”

“Forest hermit... That's good.” he said.

Pinkie tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”

“Out of the way. Better for hiding.”

“Hiding? Are you hiding from somepony? Is it hide and seek? Can I play too?”

“No game,” Elytra said. “My Queen... wants me dead.”

“Pinkie you bring me a creature most fey—his noggin is rattled a bit, I'd say”

Zecora's house was the same strange collection of Zebrican masks and shelves of mysterious bottles and dried herbs that had struck Pinkie as irredeemably eerie just a few months before. Now she knew better, although the spooky big pot was still ominously bubbling (“You think it goop? It's just my soup!”), well, actually the contents of the pot smelled pretty good.

Now Elytra was lying on a mat as Zecora considered his injuries. She'd wrapped a bandage around a particularly bruised looking area of one thigh, and a poultice of boiled herbs was plastered across the top of his head.

“His name is Elytra,” Pinkie explained. “He says his queen is mad at him.”

Elytra lifted his head. “If strange ponies start poking around, be careful.”

Zecora raised an eyebrow. “The way you look, I have no doubt—any strange 'ponies' are sure to stand out.”

Elytra levered himself to his feet, ignoring Zecora's hooves as she tried to gently press him back down to rest some more. “They won't look like I do now,” he said. “They'll look like this.”

Green flames of magic swept over him, and suddenly Zecora and Pinkie were confronted with another Zecora—except the color of her stripes was reversed.

Zecora hopped back in surprise, her eyes wide.

“They'll look like Zecora?” Pinkie asked.

Elytra seemed to notice the stripe colors. More of the green magic crackled across the false Zecora's coat, and the stripes shifted their colors to match; but at the same time the stiff brush of mane melted into thick waves of hair that cascaded down before her eyes.

“Ugh,” Elytra said, and rubbed at her forehead. “There's definitely something off with my transformations.”

Zecora eyed her doppelganger. “I cannot say that I dislike the look, but I am unnerved by the form you took. There are old folktales I once thought a hoax. But if they are true, you're bad news for us folks.”

Elytra reverted back to his original form. He nodded sadly. “The thing is, I don't want to be.”

Pinkie looked from one to the other. “What does that mean? Zecora, what is he?”

Zecora pursed her lips, considering Elytra. “Your kind are called 'changelings,' yes? Creatures who in others' forms dress?”

“Oooh, I get it,” Pinkie said. “You turned into me when I found you. And you just did Zecora. That's really neat! But why are you supposed to be bad news?” Her brow furrowed. “You don't imitate other ponies and then commit crimes, framing them while you get away, do you? But then one day unbeknownst to you, a pony witnesses your sinister plans and vows to become your dark nemesis, the Masked Avenger!”

Elytra shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. But from your perspective, that might be better. Our kind consume love.”

Pinkie cocked her head. “I don't get it.”

“We find creatures with love in their hearts, and we devour it. We take the form of creatures familiar to them to get close and facilitate the process.”

“But... that's just weird. You can eat cakes and you can eat cupcakes which are kind of like cakes but kinda different, but how do you eat love?”

“Don't tempt me!”

“Are you hungry? Are you hungry right now?”

“My kind are always hungry,” he said. “Yes, I'm hungry. I'm very hungry.”

“I mean, love isn't like a limited resource, you know?”

“That's... I don't know if that's true. Could that be true?”

“Well, I've got plenty to go around, so if you're feeling a mite peckish...”

Zecora shook her head. “The stories say they only take; a wasteland's all that they can make.”

“Oh come on, Zecora. Elytra doesn't want to hurt anyone, right Elytra? He's injured, he needs help.” She faced the changeling. “Suppose you just take a little bit, and we can see how it goes?”

Elytra shuddered, looking at her with a sort of longing that sent the hairs rising along her back. He seemed to be struggling, and his eye suddenly looked very cold.

“Elytra?” Pinkie said uncertainly.

His mouth opened with a snarl, long tongue twisting and snapping toward her. Even so, he seemed to be trying to hold himself back, but his instincts had hold of him now.

Pinkie felt something precious being ripped from her. The world went gray, and the bounce in her mane deflated, the hair sliding down into long, flat tresses. What was she doing? Was there a point to any of this? Vaguely she saw Zecora tackle Elytra, flinging the creature to the ground and shouting “Enough I say! Hurt her and you pay!” Without much interest, Pinkie noted Zecora had a knife to Elytra's throat. The world was an emptiness, and whatever happened had no meaning.

But gradually she noticed the greens in the leafy fronds woven into Zecora's door, and the bright blues and reds painting the decorative masks in the house. They were nice to look at, somehow soothing—a sign, however feeble, of the possibility of beauty and meaning in the world. With a gasp, she came back to herself.

“Wow...” she said, stumbling back a step. “Wow. That's a real wham-doodle.” She gave her head a shake, her straight mane bouncing and filling in a bit as she did so. “It's okay, Zecora. I'll be okay.”

Zecora glanced her way, and slowly backed off of the changeling.

“I'm sorry,” Elytra said. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's so hard to eat just a little.”

“I think I need a pick-me-up party,” Pinkie said.

“Under my roof you hurt my friend,” Zecora said to Elytra. “Do not ever do that again!”

“It's okay Zecora, I kind of told him to,” Pinkie said. “But wow, that was pretty rough.”

Elytra got to his feet, his ears drooping. “She's not wrong,” he said, gesturing to Zecora. “My kind don't leave much behind when we swarm. We live in wastelands, but they weren't wastelands when we arrived.”

Pinkie's breath caught in her throat as she caught the implications of what he was saying. “Are you... about to arrive here?” she asked in a small voice.

He shook his head rapidly. “No! I mean, I don't think any of us even knows what's out this way. I ran away without much of a plan beyond going as far away from home as possible.”

“Everything you say brings more questions this way,” Zecora said.

“Why did you run away, Elytra?” Pinkie asked. “Why does your queen hate you?”

Elytra took a deep breath. “Right. I guess everything went wrong when I... I just started noticing... how destructive we are.” He bit at his lip, considering his words. “A year ago, maybe, we had found good prey. Shaggy little creatures, very friendly, not smart. It was easy to infiltrate them, and easy to feed. I was like all the rest of my kind, heedless of what we do. But... there was one of them—and I don't even know why—but as I was feeding on it, I stared into its eyes. I watched the brightness fade into something flat and spiritless. I saw the bushy coat of fur grow matted and dull. And the question popped into my mind, what would it be like if I were in its place? What was it like for the things we feed on? It doesn't seem like it's very easy on them.”

“Boy, I'll say!” Pinkie chimed in.

“That isn't really the sort of thing my kind worries about, though. I don't know why it even popped into my head. But once I started, I couldn't stop thinking about it. And I saw how the longer we stayed, the worse the place became. The creatures grew listless and stopped being nourishing, and the environment itself suffered. When we finally did move on, there wasn't much left behind us. And that kept pricking at my thoughts. I kept returning to it. It couldn't be that this was our reason to exist, just to create ruin and misery.”

Zecora eyed him with cold skepticism. “Is that what you're trying to say? That you developed a conscience one day?”

Elytra rubbed his forehead. “I don't know... I guess?”

“Don't bully him, Zecora,” Pinkie said.

“After what he just did to you, I'm surprised that you would take that view!”

“Well, but he's trying to do better, right?”

Elytra nodded slowly. “I think somewhere long ago, something went very wrong with us. I don't think this is how we're supposed to be. But if we are supposed to be something different, I don't know what that is.”

Zecora frowned, and took a long moment to regard him. “That is all very well and good. But why are you in this neighborhood?”

“Right,” Elytra said. “Well, I kept going over and over it in my mind. I started to see that supposed to, that we had gone askew from our place in the world. So one day I begged an audience with our Queen, and talked to her about it.”

“Oooh, what's she like? I've seen princesses, but I've never seen a queen before,” Pinkie said.

Elytra rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, she's not what you'd call... uhh... what's the word? Someone you don't mind being around, whose company you enjoy...?”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, that's it. We don't really have those in the hive anyway, but she's definitely not one.”

“Uhh... Elytra, this hive of yours sounds like it sucks,” Pinkie said.

“I suppose so,” he said with a sigh. “Certainly the Queen didn't take what I was saying very well.”

“Without a doubt she chased you out,” Zecora said bluntly.

“Yeah,” Elytra nodded. “I barely escaped in one piece. And she means to recapture me. Or worse.”

“Awww, that sounds awful, Elytra,” Pinkie said, her ears drooping. “Have you at least managed to make any progress figuring out the real you?”

Elytra laughed hollowly. “Given how I just fed off you, I don't think so.”

“But you're still trying, right?”

“I'm trying,” he said, the frustration mounting in his voice. “Sometimes I swear I can feel it inside me, a jagged place where something central to me was broken, and fitted back together wrong. But then it slips away, and I don't understand what to do about it.”

“Hmmm,” Pinkie said. She started pacing around the room, brows furrowed in concentration. Then she suddenly brightened up. Her mane was restored to its full springiness, and she began bouncing on the tips of her hooves. “I know!” she said. “What you need to do is to go to a party!”

“A party?” he said. “What's that?”

Zecora hastened to intervene. “Pinkie Pie, it's for the best that you let this creature rest.”

Pinkie waved a hoof to placate her. “I'm not talking about right now, silly. I mean tomorrow!”

Elytra wasn't quite sure how he'd been swept along by Pinkie Pie, but here he was in the middle of a town called Ponyville, surrounded by ponies and trapped in the middle of something called a “party.”

It was all quite alarming, and yet....

He was in a shape he'd picked up when he'd first entered pony lands—a nondescript blue earth pony with gray mane and tail. Unfortunately, his ability to transform was still not working as it should and one of his knees was swollen to twice its size. Every time he tried to shape it correctly, another knee would suddenly bloat up, except for the time his tail doubled in volume.

“Whoa, what did you do to your knee?”

Elytra looked up to see a pale blue pegasus with rainbow colored mane and tail standing in front of him. “Uhh,” he said, startled.

Pinkie appeared suddenly at his side. “Hello Rainbow Dash! This is my friend, Elytr—”

“Elite... uhh... Rice,” Elytra interrupted, hoping the name sounded sufficiently ponyesque.

Pinkie looked confused a moment, but caught the hint. “Elite Rice. Right. Elite, meet Rainbow Dash, one of my bestest bestest friends. Rainbow,” Pinkie brought one hoof to the side of her mouth and leaned toward Rainbow Dash conspiratorially, “Elite's visiting from far far faaar away, so if he seems a little weird, like his name, don't worry about it.”

“Weird?” Rainbow said, “Pinkie, his parents named him 'Elite!' That is soooo cool!”

“Oh good,” Pinkie said. Her head went back and forth, scanning the party. “I think the party cannons are calling, I gotta go.” With that she bounced away, disappearing among the other partygoers.

“I wish my parents had named me 'Elite,'” Rainbow continued. “Of course, 'Rainbow Dash' is practically synonymous with 'elite' to begin with, so maybe that would have been overkill. Are you sure that knee is all right?”

Elytra shook out the leg in question to demonstrate his fitness. “I can use it fine, it looks worse than it is.”

“How did you even do that to yourself?”

“I don't really know,” Elytra said. He felt a surge of irritation well up in him at the failure of his changeling skill, and tried again to squeeze his knee down to reasonable proportions. But the moment he began, he felt his nose starting to bulge, and quickly stopped. That's a new one, he thought.

“You don't know?” Rainbow sounded astonished. “If I had a knee banged up like that, you can bet I'd know how it happened!”

“Oh, well, I mean, I was caught in that big storm and swept down the river, and it happened then.” Elytra supposed that was even true, in the technical sense.

Rainbow rubbed the back of her neck, looking a bit shamefaced. “Oh, the storm. Right. Uhh, I happen to be on the weather team, and let me tell you, that thing just exploded out of the Everfree. It caught us completely by surprise, and took forever to break up, too; it was fighting us all the way.” She paused a moment, watching Elytra's reaction. “That's not to make excuses or anything. If we'd been faster you might not have been hurt.” She gave a sickly grin. “Sorry about that.”

Elytra felt like he'd stumbled into sensitive territory with her. “Oh, no, I'm sure you did everything you could, it's not your fault. Anyway, I'm fine, really.” He hopped in place, alternating on diagonal sets of hooves to show the leg was perfectly capable of supporting him.

Rainbow seemed mollified. “Still, you should really get that looked at,” she said.

Elytra was confused. Did Rainbow Dash think having a pony stare at his knee would help? Or was she saying ponies were staring? He already felt self-conscious about the way his transformation skills had backslid.

Before Elytra could ask for clarification, Pinkie's voice rang out. “Okay everypony, it's time to kick this party into overdrive!”

There was an loud bang, and suddenly a colorful snow of confetti was drifting down upon the ponies. Elytra spun in circles, trying to comprehend what had happened.

Then everything got noisy.

A white unicorn stood at an array of strange equipment from which a wave of sound crashed over the ponies. It throbbed and soared, and made his body itch with the urge to move. He'd never heard anything like it before. All around him, other ponies were bouncing on their hooves and swaying in rhythm with the sound.

“Well come on,” Rainbow Dash said, “aren't you going to dance?”

Elytra didn't understand. Among his kind, a dance was a challenge in which changelings sought to outdo one another with rapid transformations. Was Rainbow Dash telling him she'd seen through his disguise, and knew what he was? He should have known his knee would give him away!

But no... Rainbow was bouncing from hoof to hoof in time to the sound's pulse, looking expectantly at Elytra.

“Come on,” Rainbow said, “Don't you feel the music?”

Music? Suddenly it was as if a flame took hold in Elytra's mind. The sound resolved into meaning, and the meaning was the pleasure of uniting your body with the sound. Elytra jumped from hoof to hoof, matching the pulsing sound and letting it flow through him. It was a whole new experience, one he'd never imagined was possible.

“Now you're getting it!” Rainbow Dash said.

So this was pony dancing? Elytra looked around to see how other ponies moved, trying to make sure he was behaving properly; but there was no set pattern. Every pony danced in their own way, some spinning and some rearing onto hind hooves and some just steadily alternating their hooves as if trotting in place. It was just an expression of how the music made them want to move, and there was no right or wrong way to dance.

Another cannon went off, sending glittering confetti over the dancers' heads. The energy of the crowd and the power of the music sent Elytra's pulse pounding, and without thinking he leaped up and did a backflip.

Instinctually he knew he could stabilize himself and do the flip with the help of his wings; but his instinct had forgotten he had taken a body without them. Almost he brained himself on the floor, but managed to bring the rest of his body around quickly enough that he was able to slam to earth in a crouch (on the beat!), his nostrils half a hoof length from the floor.

“Wow!” said Rainbow. “Awesome move, Elite!”

Elytra felt his lips pull back into a grin. But it was a weird grin. It wasn't prompted by some pratfall or misfortune of another. It wasn't caused by some sneering remark he'd made at the expense of a fellow changeling. It wasn't based in any kind of feeling of malice at all. It was grin formed from nothing but joy.

Is this what we're supposed to feel? he wondered. Is this what we're supposed to be?

Pinkie reappeared beside him. “Hey Ely-yi-yi-yeet! Elite!” she corrected herself, remembering his name in the last moment. “How're you enjoying the party?”

He turned his grin to her, which was all the answer she needed.

The day after her Pinkie Pick-Me-Up Party, Pinkie went to Zecora's to check in on Elytra. Pinkie was still feeling pretty good over how well (Natch!) the party had gone, even though both Rarity and Twilight had been alarmed by the name she'd picked in spite of her explaining (quite clearly!) that she'd had a real wham-doodle, but everything was okey-dokey now. Not now now, but the now that was party now, instead of the now of pushing open Zecora's door and exclaiming “Howdy doody, everypony and/or creature!” Although she was okey-dokey in this now as well.

Zecora was sitting in an awkward cross-legged pose, both front hooves resting on her knees, eyes closed; although one eye opened now to regard Pinkie with a baleful look. Elytra, in his natural form, was seated across from her in the same pose.

“Hello Pinkie, it's good to see you. Is knocking a thing ponies no longer do?”

“Oh, sorry Zecora. Was I interrupting something?”

“Pay no mind, it's time for a break. Elytra saw when he did wake how I was doing my morning meditation—he asked for a lesson in such relaxation.” She rolled from her position and sprung to her hooves. “It settles the senses and calms the mind. Reduces outbursts to something benign. Channels one's energy to lesser inclines. If you'd like to join in, that would be fine.”

“Umm, no thanks,” Pinkie said.

Elytra managed to extricate himself from the meditation pose with somewhat less grace than Zecora. “Hi Pinkie,” he said.

“How are you feeling after all that partying?”

“I'm a little achy, but nothing too bad.”

Zecora frowned. “Your wounds should have kept you in bed. I'm surprised you don't feel half dead.”

“Transforming helps a bit,” Elytra explained. “Going into another body and then back tends to clear up some of the damage. It only goes so far, though.”

“Oooh, neat,” Pinkie said. “Does that mean your tranformitty-form is back in form too?”

“Let's see,” Elytra said. In a flash Pinkie was faced with a second Pinkie... but just as before, her left ear was twice the size it should be.

Pinkie grimaced and brought one hoof to her own left ear.

“Oh...” Elytra said, reaching up to trace the shape of the ear. “Hang on.” He squeezed his eyes shut and screwed up his face in concentration. Slowly the ear began to shrink down to an appropriate size, but it was clear the effort strained him. Sweat beads began to form on his forehead, and just as the ear reached its proper proportion, the opposite ear inflated to double its size.

Elytra winced, rubbing his forehead as if suffering a jolt of pain. He prodded at the newly oversized ear, a glum expression on his face.

“Foolishness to strain your mind!” Zecora said, glaring in disapproval. “Rest and heal all in good time.”

Elytra reverted back to his normal form. “I suppose you're right....”

“Hey Elytra,” Pinkie asked abruptly, “why are you Elite?”

His brow furrowed. “Oh, the name,” he said. “I didn't want all the ponies calling me Elytra. When I fled the hive, the Queen wasn't very happy with me, you understand?”

“A runaway subject can vex the soul, though one would do better just letting them go,” Zecora observed.

“You said she wanted you dead,” Pinkie remembered.

“So she sent out a pair of changelings to hunt me down.”

Pinkie's eyes went wide. “You're a hunted pony-not-a-pony!”

“Tarsus and Maxilla caught up to me when the storm hit, and I dove into it to try to get away from them. And I did! But they'll still be searching.”

Pinkie thought about it. “You can disguise yourself easy-peasy though!”

Elytra reached a hoof up to his ear self-consciously. “Maybe. Anyway, so can they. They won't look like me, they'll look like normal ponies, and if they hear ponies using my name they'll know I'm here.”

“So you're 'Elite Rice,' huh.”

“It sounds like a perfectly normal pony name, right?”

“Hmm...” Pinkie said.

“Rainbow Dash liked it!”

Zecora cleared her throat. “Then it seems we must peel our eye for strange, new ponies stopping by.”

“I should just lay low here. I shouldn't have gone to that party either.”

“Nonsense!” Pinkie said. “If you want to hide among ponies, you need to learn to be among ponies. Personally I think the party was great for you. You made new friends and everything.”

“I'm not sure friends are relevant to the situation...” Elytra said.

“Friends are always relevant! Come on, Elytra, lets go into town and make some more.”

“There you go, with an extra for the road.” Pinkie pushed the bag of muffins across the counter to the gray mailmare, who scooped it up eagerly.

“Thank you Pinkie Pie! Thank you new pony whose name I keep forgetting!” She waved as she hovered, wings fluttering as she propelled herself backwards to the entrance of Sugarcube Corner. She collided with the door frame as she left, but managed to avoid spilling the precious bag of muffins, so no great harm done.

Pinkie looked over her shoulder to where Elytra, in his knee-swollen earth pony guise, was stirring up another bowl of batter. “That one's a regular here, she always buys the same thing,” she told him.

Elytra nodded, stirring diligently. It had been a week now since he'd arrived, and a few days ago he'd asked if he could do anything for her in thanks for the trouble he'd caused. Pinkie hadn't understood what trouble he was talking about, but she'd brought him here all the same, letting him go to work learning to bake in Sugarcube Corner instead of being dragged around town and introduced to ponies to make more friends and be more conspicuous.

He actually seemed to have a knack for baking, although Pinkie had told him he left the kitchen too neat. She'd tried to explain that proper baking required a certain amount of spirited effort, which tended to leave splashes of flour, sugar and eggs strewn about the kitchen. Elytra didn't quite have the spirited effort down, but his attempts still came out tasting good, and he somehow managed to squeeze an extra helping or so out of each batch.

“You always have to give her a bonus muffin,” she explained to Elytra as she checked the progress of an oven full of cupcakes.

Elytra nodded, filing the information away for future reference. Pinkie was astonishingly good at remembering each customer's needs and desires.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Elytra said hesitantly, “do you think you'll be having another party soon?” He'd been to two of Pinkie's parties now, and though the second had been a more subdued, smaller group, he'd found it just as invigorating as the first. Pinkie had introduced him to pony games, which were different from changeling games in that the loser didn't get the goo stomped out of him or get forced to become the servant of the winner.

“Hmmmm,” Pinkie said. “Another party. Does Pinkie Pie want to have another party?” She stroked her chin thoughtfully, then gave Elytra a big wink. “I sure do! Tomorrow night let's have a One-Week-(Approximately)-Since-He-Arrived-In Ponyville-Elite-Rice-Celebration party!”

Elytra's smile soured. “No, no, no, you can't do anything to attract attention to me, remember?”

“Oh yeah, those stalkers you mentioned. But you know, it's been a week and no strange ponies have shown up in town. Maybe you really did lose them in the storm, and one of them said 'Well, I'm a big dum-dum who can't figure out where he went in all this rain,” and the other said “It's too wet and miserable to keep looking, so we should just give up and go home.'”

Elytra chuckled, trying to imagine Tarsus and Maxilla saying such things. “I don't think they'd quit as easily as that, Pinkie. Those two are... offended by me, and they aren't going to quit unless the trail goes completely cold.”

“Offended?”

“The fact that I dared question the Queen about us strikes them as deeply wrong, and the fact that I ran is unforgivable.”

“Sounds like some really charming stalkers.”

“Charming? No, our kind really don't tend to be charming.”

“I was making a joke,” Pinkie explained. “Anyway, if they're as bad as all that, I should really bring my friends in to help.”

“No!” Elytra said. “The fewer who know anything about me, the better my chances are.”

Pinkie didn't look as if she liked what she was hearing. “But if Twilight knew, I'm sure she'd come up with a plan to keep you safe in no time. I mean, first she'd ask you a whole lot of questions about your kind, and then she'd ask a whole bunch more, but—”

“No Pinkie, don't tell anyone about me. Promise!”

“I think you're making a big mistake,” Pinkie said, “but all right. I promise.”

Elytra breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Pinkie.”

“But in return, you're baking snacks for the party tomorrow.”

“What?! But I'm not ready! I'm not ready yet!”

“You can do cupcakes and simple roll cakes.”

“Just because you taught me some things to help out doesn't make me a baker!”

“And muffins. Mrs. Cake tried out some of the muffins you made yesterday and gave her approval.”

“What... really?”

“She said she could tell they were made with love.”

Elytra shook his head in rejection. “That's not possible.”

“Well, she is the sort to say nice things even if it's pretty bad, but it wasn't bad at all, so she was saying nice nice things instead of polite nice things. Anyway, tomorrow let's have a Mystery Party.” She waved her front hooves spookily. “Everypony has to be mysteeeeeriousssss.”

“Okay... but how do I do that?” Was he supposed to change forms or...?

“You already are mysterious, that's the point. But I'll get you a mask anyway,” Pinkie said. She clapped her hooves together eagerly. “I can already feel a great party coming on!”

Laughter and conversation spilled past Elytra's ears as he stood in the Ponyville town hall, watching as ponies circulated through the festively decorated rooms. Some wore simple masks like dominoes that barely concealed their identities, while others strutted about in fantastical helmet-like headgear. A set of tables was heavily laden with the products of his (and Pinkie's, for she had swept through the kitchen to whip up several varieties of sweets in between her errands setting up for the party) baking efforts. It was weirdly satisfying to see ponies devouring them with enjoyment. The enjoyment of others was not a thing that he would have ever concerned himself over back in the hive, but back in the hive he'd have never baked pastries to begin with.

Pinkie sidled up to him. “This party's going pretty swell, huh?” She was wearing an outlandish pair of glasses with thick bushy eyebrows attached to the frames and an absurd fake nose with an equally bushy mustache below. “It's me, Pinkie, by the way.”

“I could tell,” he said. His own mask was a simple silvery domino, coupled with a hairband that sported a set of deely-boppers.

“Oh, you're good,” she said.

The party flowed around them, the atmosphere of enjoyment sparkling the air. One pony came up to Pinkie and asked if this was mystery party, what was the mystery?

“Yes!” Pinkie said.

The pony looked confused. “What?”

“It's quite a mystery, isn't it?”

Comprehension dawned across the pony's face, and she started to laugh. Elytra smiled as well. He felt the sense of ease that seemed a part of Ponyville's identity dissolving his worries. “This is nice,” he said to Pinkie.

“Well of course. Ponyville is a nice place.”

“It'd be good to stay here,” he murmured, too soft for her to hear.

A fresh pony joined them: Zecora, sporting one of the painted masks from her home. “Honestly speaking, it can take quite a while; but once ponies warm up, they're good for a smile.” Elytra saw her wink through one eyehole.

“Hi Zecora!,” Pinkie said. “Glad you could make it.”

“Would that I came on a happier duty—strange ponies have come looking”—she pointed one hoof at Elytra—“for your booty.”

“What?!” Pinkie and Elytra both said.

“I just spoke to Mrs. Cake, and she said it was strange—a pair of odds ponies were asking a range of ponies about any newcomers here—“ she clapped one hoof on Elytra's shoulder— “of course this one's name came up surely, I fear.”

Pinkies eyes grew wide. “They could be here—in disguise! This whole masked party idea might have been a mistake,” she said. She seemed to pull herself together quickly though. “I'm going to do a quick circuit and see if I can spot anypony suspicious.”

Elytra nodded. “If they're looking for Elite Rice, I'll just duck into an empty room and turn into a different pony where no one can see.”

“If we go off to different places, a password helps uncertain faces,” Zecora pointed out.

“You mean if Elytra's stalkers try to fool us?”

“Or if you don't recognize me in my new form.”

“Good point. Okay, uhh, if one of us says 'muffins,' the other says 'cupcakes.'”

“A choice so very Pinkie Pie. I'll not object nor else deny.”

“Right. I'm going to go take a look around the party, then.”

“And I shall take a stroll outside, in case in darkness mischief hides.”

“Okay,” Elytra nodded. “Then I'll get to trying on a new body.” He broke away from the others and looked for a side room to duck into.

As he paced down a corridor adjacent to the main hall, a green unicorn spotted him. Her mask amounted to a feathery headdress, but didn't particularly conceal her identity. For a moment he searched his memory for her name—he was certain they'd been introduced at the bakery—and came up with it just as she reached him. “Hi, Lyra,” he said.

“Oh, hi there, Elite. Enjoying the party?”

“Of course,” he said. He fidgeted, not wanting to get trapped in a conversation.

“Hey did your friends find you? They said they'd come a long way to see you.”

“Oh?” he said, a little blade of ice travelling down his spine. “What did they look like?”

“One was a big yellow earth pony, and the other was a chocolate-brown pegasus. Oh! I hope I'm not spoiling a surprise! I saw them this afternoon and they wanted to know if any new ponies had come to town in the last week, and when I described you they got excited to see you.”

“No, it's fine,” he said. “I'm sure I'll run into them sooner or later.” Hopefully much later. But at least he had an idea what shapes they were using.

He bid Lyra farewell, and soon ducked into a little meeting room. He shut the door behind him with a quick glance about the dimly lit chamber, preparing to transform just as a pair of ponies tumbled through an open window on the opposite wall and thudded to the floor awkwardly.

He stilled the ripple of green magic across his body and froze.

“I told you we should have just walked in the front,” one of the ponies said. The larger, yellow one.

“It is always better to sneak,” said the brown pegasus, as he picked himself off the floor.

In his mind, Elytra articulated to himself a single, very foul word.

The ponies looked about the room, their gaze settling on Elytra.

“Well, what have we here,” said the yellow earth pony. He took a step toward Elytra.

“Dark blue,” said the pegasus, also taking a step forward.

“No horn, no wings.”

“Big fat swollen knee.”

“Hello, Elytra.”

He stared back at them. “Wh... who's Elytra,” he said.

The two snarled at him, and he felt the pressure of their hunger attempting to ravage him. But he was a changeling, and their efforts to feed could find no purchase.

That was proof enough for them. Green flames of magic swept across them, and a pair of changelings confronted him. “Tarsus,” he said, nodding to the one that had been the yellow earth pony. “Maxilla,” he acknowledged the other.

“Did you really think that would work?” Tarsus growled.

“Why the swollen knee?” said Maxilla. “I just don't get why the swollen knee.”

Elytra flexed his knee. He wasn't about to tell them he couldn't perfect his transformations. “Why not? It's a change of pace.”

“Why look so distinctive?” Maxilla pressed.

Tarsus nodded. “We asked about any new ponies in town, and they all described the one with the swollen knee joint.”

“You made yourself memorable,” Maxilla said, his voice tainted with contempt.

Elytra didn't answer. He looked from one to the other, trying to judge the mood of the two changelings. It didn't seem very positive. “I don't suppose I could convince you two to just go home and say you couldn't find me....”

“It doesn't seem likely,” Maxilla said. “Between getting you upset by taking you back and getting the Queen upset by not taking you back, well... you see it's a pretty easy choice.”

“Why would you even want to stay?” Tarsus asked.

Maxilla rolled his eyes. “It's because this is such a rich feeding ground.”

Elytra felt the hairs on his spine bristle. “I'm not using it like that!”

Maxilla cocked his head, a look of genuine confusion on his face. “Is this more of your crazy talk about something gone wrong with us?”

Tarsus snorted. “Are you still going on about that?”

“I'm more convinced than ever,” Elytra said, “so you may as well give up.”

“What, you're going to live here among the prey?”

Maxilla took a step, his body sliding closer like a snake. “What's the matter, Elytra? You don't belong here. You know it. You were raised for greater things. For the glory of the hive.”

Tarsus nodded. “We are hunters, all three of us. You know that's the truth, down in the core of your being.”

“You were raised for the hive. The ideas you've let settle in your head, they've led you astray. You aren't supposed to be fleeing the hive, you're supposed to be a part of it. A part of us. You've flown in the swarm, you remember being part of something greater than yourself.”

Elytra's thoughts raced back to the time before he'd begun to question what he was. It had been simple then, almost comforting.

“Our Queen is glorious. And we are glorious in serving her. Why fight against that, when you can be as one with it?”

“The Queen...” Elytra said, “doesn't want anything to do with me.”

“That's not true,” Tarsus said. “She'll forgive you if you come back to her willingly.”

“Everything I did... I was trying to make the hive a better place.” His belly felt tight, a swirl of confusing emotions racing through his body. Once he had looked upon the Queen with awe as all changelings did. Once there had been a place for him, unquestioned. Was it really beyond reach? Was there not still some way to make the Queen understand? “It's hard... to leave everything you know.”

“Of course it is,” Maxilla said. “You just took a wrong turn, see? But you can come back.”

Perhaps there was a way. Perhaps if the Queen saw his humble return, she'd give him a chance to truly explain himself.

Tarsus nodded. “You can't very well go on pretending the prey is your hive.”

Something inside Elytra clamored for attention. Something that knew the Queen was not the forgiving type. Something that insisted there was a difference between true hope and comforting lies of self-delusion.

Elytra looked at Tarsus. “They're not prey, they're my friends.”

Maxilla barked a laugh. “They have no idea what you are. If they saw you as you really are, they'd crush you into the dirt.”

But they have seen me as I really am.

Maxilla spoke on. “You're a changeling. No matter what form you take, that's the one thing about you that will always persist. You call these ponies friends? See how long that lasts when your hunger grows and grows and grows and you can't hold back your true nature any longer.”

Tarsus snickered. “Did you come to this party because there are so many ponies full of love here? I bet you've feasted on quite a few by now.”

I'm not hungry, he thought. He opened his mouth to reply to Tarsus, but then froze. It was as if a bolt of lightning struck him. I'm not hungry.

Changelings were always hungry.

In bad times, when prey was hard to find, the hunger could become an almost debilitating need. And in good times, after a nice feast, it shrunk to a quiet little hollow in the corner of one's belly, easily ignored. But it never went away entirely.

Elytra didn't feel a trace of hunger.

When had it happened? He'd certainly been hungry when he devoured Pinkie's love, and for a time after... He racked his brain trying to remember.

Had it... had it been when she'd called him a friend as she introduced him to Rainbow Dash?

Elytra didn't have time to think it through. He looked at the two changelings, his gaze sharpening into a hard glare. “I'm not hungry,” he said, very sharply and clearly. “And you two can GO HOME!”

With that, he changed forms, the green flame of his magic licking over him and shifting him into something larger, much larger. He lunged forward, a mature dragon now. The pair of changelings dodged to one side, barely evading him as he slammed into the exterior wall of the room and smashed through.

Pinkie was hopping about the mezzanine trying to decide which ponies she could spot despite their masks and which would need further identification when a thunderous crash shook the building. “Did anypony else hear that?” she asked, which was a bit silly as everypony else had obviously heard it and stopped talking as a result, except for the elderly pony with an ear trumpet caught in mid-conversation with a mare who looked like she'd much rather be somewhere else.

“...And that's why peas are much better for your digestion,” the elderly pony said.

Pinkie dashed past them and slid down the stairway banister to get to the ground floor, heading to where she thought the source of the noise had been. She soon found it, a meeting room with a hole blown through the exterior wall.

She pushed her gag glasses up onto her forehead as she stepped through the hole, out onto the streets of Ponyville. A few ponies were staring up, and she automatically followed their gaze to see a trio of large dragons racing through the sky, two of them chasing a third who whipsawed and zig-zagged as he tried to evade them.

“Oh, this is bad,” she said, and ran to the front of the town hall, nearly colliding with Zecora.

The zebra mare had discarded her mask. She gave a worried glance above as she nodded to Pinkie. “I fear our efforts have come unbound—the stalkers have run their prey to ground.”

“They're flying, Zecora,” Pinkie pointed out.

A faint smile crossed Zecora's face. “Your observation is quite correct... now how shall we our friend abet?”

Pinkie concentrated, furrows creasing her brow as she thought. Up above one of the dragons exhaled a lance of fire, narrowly missing another. Here on the ground, ponies were running around in a panic. A dazed Roseluck stumbled up and said “Dragons! Why are there dragons in Ponyville?” She fastened her gaze on Pinkie. “Pinkie Pie, is this one of your stunts for the party? Tell me this is a stunt for your party.”

“Sorry, nope.” Pinkie said.

“I knew it,” Roseluck said in a defeated tone, and promptly fainted.

Pinkie barely noticed. “Party cannon!” she exclaimed, making Zecora jump. “We need a party cannon! Come on, Zecora!”

She charged down the street, Zecora racing after. “Was not your party so endowed? With cannon set to wow the crowd?”

“That's an indoor cannon, Zecora. We need an outdoor cannon!” She ran down a side street to a nondescript shack, and then gave a kick to the bottom of one wall. The whole wall suddenly folded upward, revealing a large cannon ready for use.

“Help me, Zecora,” she said, hopping behind one big wheel and pushing the heavy cannon out onto the street. Together the two of them guided it up toward the intersection, where the wider main street was.

Halfway there Pinkie heard Rainbow Dash's voice crying out “Pinkie Piiiiieeeeee!” In a blue streak, the pegasus landed beside her. “What is going on?!” Dash said. “It's complete chaos in town!”

“Hi Rainbow Dash. It's, umm, a bit complicated to explain.”

Zecora pointed up just as the trio of dragons raced overhead. “One of those we like. The rest can take a hike.”

Dash squinted up. “Is the one we like the one with the one long claw the others are chasing?”

Pinkie gasped. Of course Elytra's transformation hiccups were still happening. “That's him, Dashie!”

“Got it!” Dash shot upwards and streaked into the fray as it moved out of sight behind the surrounding houses.

Pinkie and Zecora continued to push the cannon up to the intersection. As they reached it, Pinkie looked up to see the dragon fight still in progress, now with Rainbow Dash darting in and out of the action, throwing a kick here and there and doing her best to distract and disrupt.

“Line it up with the length of the street,” Pinkie said, hauling at the cannon. Once it was in position she bounced around to the front and shoved her head in the muzzle. “Oh good, all charged and ready to go.” She popped out just in time to see Zecora's body jolt, a look of alarm on her face.

“I do not think that's the best way to check your ordnance likely sprays.”

Pinkie nodded. “You're right. It's too dark in there; I should have brought a match.”

Zecora opened her mouth to say more, but up above Dash made a miscalculation, and one of the dragons slapped her hard with its tail. The sound was a sickening clap in Pinkie's ears. Dash came hurtling down toward the street at an angle. Pinkie cried out and rushed forward, but an instant before she met the street, Dash halted, wings abuzz, hovering in the air just before Pinkie.

“Ugh,” Dash said.

“Are you all right?”

Dash grinned. “Who, me? It'll take more than that to put me out of the fight!”

“Listen Dash, maybe take it easier.”

“Pinkie, I'm fine.” She paused, looking up at the conflict above. More lances of fire shot across the sky. Dragon roars rumbled through the air. “I'm not sure I'm helping that much, though,” she admitted.

Pinkie thought. “Say, Dashie, do you think you could try to lead them up the street, so they come in line with the cannon?”

“Can do!” Dash said, and zipped back upwards.

“Be careful” Pinkie shouted after her.

She returned to the cannon, making more adjustments and keeping an eye on the dragons. A few ponies came running by, eyes rolling in fright. “Don't panic!” Pinkie called out to them. “Just run for your life!”

Before long, Dash had somehow pestered and provoked the fight into alignment with the street. Dash peeled off as the dragons came rushing down, in line with the cannon, long-clawed Elytra leading the other two.

Pinkie crouched at the back of the cannon, firing cord gripped in her teeth, peering up its length as the dragons bore down on her position. Elytra swept over, and then....

“Now!” Pinkie shouted around the cord and pulled. Boom! went the cannon, firing a charge of confetti directly into the two chasing dragons.

They were caught off guard by the explosion of colorful paper in their faces. Blinded in the cloud, they spread their wings and hovered, trying to gather their wits. Elytra looked down at Pinkie, eyes wide in surprise. Then he spun about, bearing down on one of his pursuers. Green magic flickered over him, adjusting his body to look like the dragon he was closing in on, though he couldn't fix his oversized claw.

The third dragon blinked his eyes, reorienting himself. “Get him, Tarsus!” Elytra yelled, even as he fell upon his target, raking at him with his claws and trying to bite. Tarsus followed his lead, and for a moment the two of them ganged up on the other in a ball of snarling reptilian flesh.

Then the victim shot away, shrieking “I'm Maxilla you idiot!”

Tarsus hovered, a confused expression on his face as he looked from one to the other.

“Don't listen to his lies!” Elytra shouted, lunging toward Maxilla again. But this time Tarsus was reluctant to follow. Maxilla shot to one side and yelled “Take a good look at him! What kind of dragon has a claw like that?”

Elytra snarled, and shot away, flying low over the rooftops and disappearing behind a warehouse. “Don't lose him!” Maxilla screamed, and raced after, with Tarsus following.

A trailing breeze stirred the dust on the street.

Pinkie slumped against the cannon. “Well, that didn't play out like I hoped.”

Zecora patted her on the shoulder. “Careful plans and strategy are oft fouled by the enemy. The true test of your generalship begins once things have gone amiss.”

Pinkie nodded and gathered herself to her feet. Zecora's words were kind, but she really didn't know where to go from here. Perhaps load up the cannon again, but she didn't think she could catch the changelings by surprise with it any more.

Before she had time to think too much, Dash came swooping down to them, her face scrunched up and upset. “I lost them! Three dragons over Ponyville and I can't find them! Where did they go? How do three whole dragons disappear?”

Pinkie's brow creased as she thought. Elytra had obviously transformed, but had he transformed out of sight of the others and given them the slip? Were the stalkers back to square one?

Even before she could finish the thought, reality negated it. A trio of grotesque creatures like marionette wolves made of logs raced across the street a block to the rear of the cannon. They snarled and huffed as they ran, two chasing a third who had a misshapen lower jaw that projected out past his nose.

Rainbow Dash stared after them. “Are those... timber wolves?”

Pinkie pursed her lips. “They look like timber wolves,” she said.

“This is crazy!” Dash flapped her wings a few times in agitation. “First dragons, now timber wolves? What's going on?” Her eyes grew wide. “Is there something going on in the Everfree that's scaring the creatures enough to send them fleeing out into Ponyville?”

Zecora cleared her throat delicately. “Jumping to conclusions results in confusions.”

Dash didn't seem to hear her. “I gotta go check on this!” she said. She launched herself from the ground even as Pinkie shouted, “Wait, Dash...” But the pegasus was already whooshing high over Ponyville.

“...it's not the Everfree,” Pinkie finished in a mumble.

She and Zecora listened for the various growls and sounds of running feet as the changelings chased one another. Down a side street she saw two timberwolves flash across the way, chased by a manticore with uneven wings. Then the manticore came running back, a chimera and a cragadile in hot pursuit. Pinkie and Zecora spun from side to side, trying to keep track of where in town the chase had gone. Sometimes all was quiet, and then a bunny with an unnaturally fluffy tail would come racing across the street, a pair of dogs in hot pursuit.

But standing in the street was not helping anything. Just watching as Elytra tried to escape his stalkers? Less than useless. Pinkie's mind raced as she tried to think of what she could do.

A trio of hornets sped past her nose, the front two fleeing the last, whose abdomen and stinger were fearsomely enlarged. “You get them, Elytra!” she shouted after the insects.

Then she felt a curious sensation, a shiver up her left hind leg that swooped through her gut and finished by locking up her front legs and vibrating them like the plucked strings of a cello.

Zecora gave her a worried look. “Are you all right? That was quite a sight!”

“My Pinkie sense!” Pinkie exclaimed. She turned to the zebra, her movements crackling with urgency. “Zecora, we have to get to my room at Sugarcube Corner right now!” She took off running, the cobblestones of the street clacking against her hooves.

Zecora chased after. “I really do not understand—I hope you have devised a plan.”

The two ponies huddled in Pinkie's room atop Sugarcube Corner, occasionally spotting the disruption of the changeling brawl through the windows. The scent of sugary treats wafted up from below, but neither of them felt hungry. Zecora fretted and walked from window to window, furtively peering out.

“Is there aught you need from this place? To huddle here feels a great disgrace.”

“I don't know why, but my Pinkie sense tells me this is where we need to be.”

Zecora glanced over her shoulder at Pinkie. “I don't mean to sound too dense, but what on earth is 'Pinkie sense?'”

“Nopony knows!” Pinkie said proudly, throwing her hooves up. “I bet it thinks we'll need to use the secret entrance to the secret party cave.” She looked at Zecora and whispered “That's a seeeecreeet,” while raising one hoof to her lips and winking.

Zecora's confusion was plain on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, the window beside her burst in an explosion of shattered glass, and a raven came hurtling through, to skid to a stop at Pinkie's hooves.

Zecora took one look out the broken window and rushed to Pinkie's side. “They come. Let's run!”

But Pinkie was staring at the raven, which was flopping about dazedly. It had one overlarge and bloodshot eye. “Muffins!” Pinkie said to it urgently.

“Kawwwpkeeeeeekks” it replied woozily.

In an instant Pinkie tapped an ice cream cone shaped newel post on the stair banister to the attic. The floor underneath the two ponies and the raven opened up, dropping them onto a spiral slide into darkness. It all happened so quickly Zecora didn't even have time to cry out in surprise. She looked up as she slid and saw the trap door above already closing.

The ride was dizzying but short, and the three of them spilled out onto the floor of a dark chamber. A moment later a light came on, revealing shelves and baskets full of party supplies, as well as a row of densely packed filing cabinets. Scraps of paper covered in notes were tacked to any surface that could hold them, with plenty more littering the floor.

Green magic flickered across the raven, and Elytra lay sprawled on the floor. He looked a little bruised, but the transformation seemed to have largely restored him from the bedraggled raven he'd been.

“Shhhhh,” Pinkie said, and gestured up the spiral slide. Very faintly the sound of feet tramping about in Pinkie's room drifted down to them. “If they figure out the secret switch, I guess things will get exciting,” she whispered.

Perhaps it was only ten minutes Elytra and the two ponies crouched silently in the room, but it felt an eternity. The faint sounds from above stopped, and eventually Zecora stretched her limbs and said “I think it may be safe to say that we gave them the slip this day.”

Pinkie turned to the changeling. “Elytra, how are you doing.”

Elytra sighed. “I'm not really a warrior changeling to begin with,” he said. “Once they realized I can't seem to get my transformations right, it became impossible to try to trick them.”

Pinkie patted him on the shoulder. “It'll be all right. I'll get together all my friends. Twilight will come up with a plan, a really good plan, not like my party cannon plan; and Applejack, she can kick flank just as much as Rainbow Dash. And Fluttershy... well, I'm not sure but I bet she'll turn out to be useful in the end. And—”

“Pinkie...” Elytra cut her off. “Pinkie, thank you for everything you've done. I really appreciate it. But no.”

Pinkie's eyes grew large. In a very soft voice she asked, “What do you mean, 'no.'”

“I can't stay here. It's too dangerous. Tarsus and Maxilla will comb the town for me, and everyone will be in danger. If I'm not here, they'll chase after me. You'll all be safe.”

“And what about you?”

“If I can truly lose them, they'll eventually give up.”

“'If,'” murmured Zecora, “is a frightening word. Half hope, half ruin—quite absurd.”

Pinkie shook her head. Her eyes glimmered in the light. “That's no good! That's not enough! How do you plan to lose them?”

“That's for me to worry about, Pinkie. Don't fret.”

“Of course I'm going to fret.”

“I have to go,” Elytra said gently.

Tears welled up in Pinkie's eyes. “But we've barely had a chance to become friends,” she said. “We're only just beginning. I don't even know your favorite color or your favorite food or your favorite balloon animal...”

Elytra swallowed thickly. “Pinkie Pie,” he said, “you have been a better friend to me than anyone in my life. You don't even know how much just meeting you has started to change things for me. I don't think I even know.”

Pinkie sniffled, then grabbed a scrap of paper and blew her nose into it. “Don't go,” she wailed, and hugged Elytra tight.

Elytra hesitantly hugged her back, gripping her tighter as she cried against him. He rocked her slowly, understanding somehow that she needed to pass through this moment at her own pace. “You know,” he murmured to her, “I've stopped feeling hungry. Stopped feeling the need to devour love.”

She sniffled. “That's because you switched to cupcakes. Cupcakes are so much better for you.”

He chuckled. “Wherever I end up, I'll mix up a batch just like you showed me.”

“They're a health food. You'll live 120 years. I should have shown you apple fritters. That's another 120.”

She let him go then, stepping back. “Thanks Elytra. Don't forget me, okay?”

His own chest rebelled, suddenly heaving as he tried to speak. “How could I ever?”

She smiled at him, a pure and shining smile that he knew he would carry with him forever.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath and clapping her hooves. “We still have to come up with the Get Elytra to Safety While Ruining the Meanypants' Day plan.”

Zecora nodded. “A worthy endeavor—it's time to be clever.”

Elytra tried to object. She'd already done so much for him, it wasn't fair to make her a part of this any longer. But she hushed him the moment he tried to say as much. She paced up and down the chamber, muttering to herself for a quarter of an hour, until suddenly she stopped and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I might have an idea,” she said. She seemed to be rolling it around in her mind. “All I need is a little help from my friend Rarity. I hope she hasn't gone to bed yet....”

The next morning was bright and clear, the sun shining down benevolently on the flowerbeds and orchards of Ponyville. Pinkie Pie was, as usual, mixing up a fresh batch of muffins in Sugarcube Corner, a big baker's hat perched on her head. The smell of fresh cupcakes already baking in the oven sent a sweet aroma through the kitchen.

She hummed as she worked, but she was listening for the tell-tale ringing of the bell on the front door. She glanced at a clock periodically, as if to check on her baking time, but the minutes ticked by with maddening slowness.

When finally the bell did ring, she rushed out to the sales counter. She'd already had two customers this morning, but it wasn't really customers she was waiting for.

Two ponies had entered. She recognized them because she did not recognize them.

“Well, well, well. Tarkus and MacSulky,” she said. “What brings you two to Sugarcube Corner?”

“It's Tarsus!” said the first pony.

The other gave her a cool stare. “It seems you have some idea of the situation. Very well, we won't tire either of us with this inane posturing as ponies.”

A ripple of magic swept across his body, and there he stood, a creature like Elytra, all hard black chiton and sinister green eyes. “We saw you helping him last night. You and the one with stripes.”

“Where is he!” growled Tarsus.

Pinkie tipped her head up, nose in the air. “Wouldn't you like to know.”

“Don't play games with us,” Maxilla said. “We can make things very uncomfortable for you.”

“Ooooh, scary!” Pinkie said.

“Do you have any idea what you're dealing with?” Tarsus snarled.

“Sure do,” Pinkie said. She pointed at Tarsus. “You're Meanypants #2,” she aimed her hoof at Maxilla, “and you're Meanypants #1. Now, would you like to order something? We have cupcakes, doughnuts, cinnamon rolls and other assorted pastries.” She set a tray of samples onto the counter to demonstrate.

Tarsus swept the tray from the counter, the pastries landing on the floor with a messy splat. “Where. Are you hiding. Elytra.”

Pinkie stared at the mess on the floor, eyes narrowing. She turned to the two changelings, her smile very decidedly unfriendly. “You're too late,” she snickered. “He got on the express train to Canterlot. It left the station ten minutes ago. You'll never catch up.”

Tarsus glared at her, fury in his eyes. But Maxilla chuckled. “You forget,” he said, ruffling the filmy appendages on his back, “we have wings.”

He spun, racing through the door, Tarsus close behind him. The bell tinkled brightly as the door swung closed behind them.

Pinkie Pie looked out the train window as the train rounded a curve, seeing the caboose just two cars back and the curve of the tracks behind them leading to Ponyville. And in the air, two black specks rushing to catch up and growing ever so slowly larger.

Well, here we go, she thought.

The tracks straightened, and she lost sight of both the caboose and the pursuers. She straightened the broad brimmed hat she wore and patted the matching bag at her side. She sat facing the rear, so she would see any pony who came forward from the back of the train. The car itself was sparsely populated, with one grizzled pony sleeping under a newspaper toward the back, and a family at the front eagerly discussing what they were going to see in Canterlot.

She waited. The train wheels went cla-clack, cla-clack and the car rocked gently. She told herself the train felt like it was still gradually gaining speed.

In time, the vestibule doors opened and a pair of stallions came through. Behind them she heard a hubbub from the next car. “I'll speak to the conductor about this outrageous treatment!” came a voice. The trailing pony of the two turned back and said “Stuff it,” sliding the vestibule door shut in the complainer's face.

The lead stallion spoke loudly. “All right everyone, it's inspection time...” His voice trailed off as his gaze settled on Pinkie. For a moment he froze. “Tarsus,” he said to his companion, “look at this.”

Tarsus turned away from the vestibule door and saw Pinkie. His eyes grew large.

The two strode to her, ignoring the rest of the car. “What are you doing here,” barked the first stallion.

Pinkie raised her eyebrows. “I'm going to Canterlot, duh. I happen to be checking out a new supplier for the bakery I work at, Mr Who-the-Hay-Are-You-Anyway.”

He sneered. “You know very well who I am, Elytra.”

“Ely-who?”

“Don't play games with me!” he shouted. The family at the front of the car grew silent.

Pinkie got to her hooves. Her voice rang out with clarity. “My name is Pinkie Pie,” she said. “And I think you two are being big jerks.”

Tarsus muttered, “Maxilla, I don't like this.”

“It's Elytra, you fool.”

Tarsus stared at her for a long moment. “Elytra can't seem to transform right anymore. We fought him and every change he made he messed up. This one looks normal.”

“Are you sure?” snapped Maxilla. He took a step closer, glaring at Pinkie. He reached up with one hoof, touched the brim of her hat, and flipped it from her head.

“Now that was uncalled for,” Pinkie said. “You're not just jerks, you're super-duper jerks.”

The two stared at her head, as if convinced they would see something incriminating. But her ears were normal, her eyes were normal, her mane was normal.

Very softly, Tarsus said “Maxilla. The one in Ponyville was wearing a hat.”

They stared at her in perfect silence. Then Maxilla uttered a word that the family at the front of the car ought not have been subjected to. “We've been set up!” he shouted, and raced back toward the caboose.

Rage seethed across Tarsus' features as he gave one last look at Pinkie. He snarled, opening his mouth wide.

Pinkie felt something tug deep in her chest. Just for an instant the colors of the train car and the passing greenery outside seemed to flicker and lose their luster.

“Pah!” spat Tarsus. “Disgusting.” He spun away and raced after Maxilla.

Speechless, Pinkie held a hoof to her chest, standing there as she stared after them. After a while she bent and retrieved her hat, settling it back on her head automatically.

She took a deep breath. “All right,” she said, and calmly walked down the aisle to the back of the car. She passed through the next car and through the caboose, stepping out onto the platform at its back. There was only one other pony here, an elderly stallion smoking a pipe.

“I seen some things,” he observed, staring after a pair of black spots in the sky that were racing back toward Ponyville.

Pinkie stared after them as well.

“They musta forgot their tickets,” the stallion said after a while.

“Yep,” Pinkie said. She stood there watching until the black spots disappeared completely. Then she turned and made her way back to her seat.

“Pinkie” took off her hat, reached up to one ear, and with a bit of work managed to loosen the tightly woven mane that held it in place. The false ear had been created by a pony named Rarity, who had worked into the early hours of the morning sewing together something that looked almost perfectly like one of Pinkie's ears. Then “Pinkie” reached under the thick curls of mane and pulled off the tape that held her actual ear, twice the size of her other, plastered tightly to her neck and hidden from view. Elytra massaged the cramped appendage and gave a catlike purr of pleasure. Then he set the hat back on his head.

Rarity had also provided the hat and bag. Elytra was pretty sure he'd met her at some point, in Sugarcube Corner or at one of the parties, but he hadn't had a chance to truly meet her. He fervently wished he could thank her now.

The train would arrive in Canterlot Station in about an hour and a half. From there, Pinkie had explained, trains left for every part of Equestria, from Manehattan to Las Pegasus to Vanhoover, at all hours of the day. Where he would go even he had not yet decided—Pinkie had insisted there be no plan at that point so that there could be no way anypony in Ponyville would know. She'd guaranteed him once Tarsus and Maxilla made their way back to town she'd lead them on a merry chase and make sure there was no way they would catch up to him. She'd told him he would have to trust her on this, and trust she and Zecora would handle it once the changelings figured out they'd been tricked again. Of course at that point they'd be furious, which worried him; but they would have to rush to follow him to Canterlot immediately, lest they lose the favor of the Queen. The next train was the afternoon local, with stops all along the way. If they took that, he'd be long gone by the time they reached Canterlot, and he didn't see that they could fly the distance any faster without exhausting themselves.

He watched the hills pass by as the train rocked in its soothing rhythm. This morning he'd discovered his carapace had become a dark shade of purple rather than the glossy black it had always been. He didn't know what it meant, but it didn't frighten him. And just now Tarsus had somehow tried to feed off him and come away with... something, even if it didn't appeal to him. That wasn't supposed to be possible. He didn't know what that meant either.

Except Elytra understood this much: he was changing, in ways deeper than he had ever imagined possible. And that filled him with hope, not just for himself, but for all his kind, his poor changeling brethren who had long ago gotten twisted up in terrible ways.

Pinkie Pie was his first friend. Wherever he went, he would make many more. The train bore him forward into the unknown, and he was excited to discover what he would become.