In Twilight Sparkle’s life, there were only a saddlebags full of times that she had gotten a truly wonderful night’s sleep. These included times such as the night after Celestia’s offer to teach Twilight personally (Spike was quiet the first night, unlike the second and third and so on…), her first successful managing of Winter Wrap Up, and the night after her first Grand Galloping Gala. As she slept atop Xavier, this night, despite how awful the last few days had been, was on the fast track to being one of those nights.

Unfortunately, it would not be joining that list of venerable sleeps.

The campfire slowly smoldered to cinders, and Xavier’s chest slowly lifted Twilight into the air, only to slowly lower her back down over and over again, slower… and slower each time. And the furnace that roared earlier, much like the campfire, lost most of its blaze, leaving the pony atop him to keep them both warm. With her ear laid against his chest, in her sleep, Twilight’s own muscles pinned her in that blissful blanket beyond awareness as the sound of a drum that had once been loud, slowly tittered. Its beat, its rhythm slowly becoming the song of silence that all must eventually sing.

That was until the sound of birds screeching at each other right above them pierced through both Twilight’s and Xavier’s slumber and awoke them like a wine glass shattering, bursting into jagged pieces.

Xavier let out a roaring gasp as he tried to thrust himself up. His face twisted in pain, only to smash the back of his head against the ground. Arching his back, then roiling in pain. Twilight, still atop him, fumbled as she tried to find anywhere but Xavier to stand on all fours. She was half aware that she was now sandwiched between the screech of the birds and a human screaming in pain. But her desperate search for solid ground ended as she tumbled off him. The world blurred to her as the tip of her horn scratched right under Xavier’s left eye, and she slammed onto the sleeping bag next to him, not in a thud, but in a howl.

“GOD DAMN IT!” screamed Xavier, now clutching the side of his face. “MY EYE! WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE LEFT GODDAMN EYE???”

And along with his cries, the screeching above them continued. Twilight’s ears folded back, almost slapping the back of her skull as Xavier’s hands moved from under his left eye to his ears, revealing a thin cut on his left cheek to his ears. Snapping herself upright, Twilight immediately thrust herself out of the burrow and glared at the direction of the screaming birds.

It was Scratch, her wings fully extended and her feathers fully ruffled as she cawed at another, bigger Phoenix, also with a three feathered crest. Though it was roughly a head higher than Scratch, this phoenix was returning the screams it was receiving at the bird that had watched over them these last two days. Then the bigger one got close to Scratch and nipped at her, only for Scratch to back off a step and jump atop a tall root, keep her beak open, and let out a melodic hissing sound. Then, she lowered her head and clicked her beak, shaking her already ruffled feathers, seeming a little larger this time, though the crests on both bird’s started to lower.

The new Phoenix pulled her head back and tilted her head at Scratch, but it didn’t ruffle her feathers, nor did she try to nip again.

“What in Tartarus is going on here?!” Twilight barked, panting, her eyes-tinged red from bloodshot.

Both Phoenix’s froze like two ice sculptures at a banquet. With still bodies, they slowly rotated their heads at Twilight in unison. Then at the same time, their crests raised as they both started to shriek at Twilight, their wings extending fully. Twilight scrambled backwards as Scratch jumped down from the tree’s bulking arch of a root and the other phoenix started to waddle towards her, their wings extended, their plumage ruffled. They both flapped their wings at the purple unicorn, with the new phoenix hopping forward. As it landed in front of Twilight, she saw that it was almost as tall as her. But despite the difference in height, it beat its wings at the pony and let out a guttural screech. Twilight ducked, lowering herself to the forest floor as the phoenix attempted to smack her with the leading edge of her crimson wings.

It was only after it missed that Scratch turned, screaming at the bird that had made a lunge at Twilight, and once again the two birds were going at it. Twilight blinked as she looked up from her prone position, her memories of the phoenixes of Celestia’s castle presented her with a different scene. The red and gold of the divine sun perched atop ivory branches. They never sang, and their chirping subdued, their presence projecting the grace of a thousand sunrises.

Twilight felt queasy watching the birds in front of her. They were worse than pedestrian in their behavior: they were plebian. Their plumage wasn’t as shiny, but their colors ran deeper. And these birds were loud, nippy, and held the grace of two quarreling griffons taking slashes at each other on the side of the road. Memories bubbled up in Twilight as she stared at both birds. Memories of Scratch covering the night watch for the two of them, and, while reserved with Twilight, was affable, even friendly with Xavier. It was even playing stupid games with him. Twilight could feel it in her bones that none of the Phoenix’s in Celestia’s Castle would demean themselves with such lay actions.

Twilight twisted her body, righting herself up when, with a flap of her wings, Scratch took to the air and landed on Twilight’s back, her wings spread and still screaming at the other Phoenix. A chill ran along Twilight spine as the phoenix’s talons lightly scratched past her fur, etching themselves against her skin. She could feel the backs of her eyes press against her skull as a fear that Scratch’s talons would suddenly grip, catching her spine in their leathery grasp.

The mare froze as the two birds continued their conflict. The pair shrieked, and continued to bombard Twilight’s eardrums, as one question cropped up in her head despite Twilight’s frozen fear pressing her: They’ve been screaming at each other for a long time now, but neither has instigated a fight. Fluttershy told me that most animals, before they instigate a fight, will size each other up and try to dissuade the other creature. But even then, eventually one of the creature's patience would end and a brawl would occur if neither backed down...

Twilight’s Eyes widened as the strange phoenix lowered its head and crest, while Scratch, still on Twilight’s back, unruffled her feathers, but kept her crest up high, and bobbed her head up and down. Finally, she freed Twilight of the awful anxiety of having her spine punctured, and jumped off of her back, waddling towards the strange bird.

Scratch lowered her head as the other Phoenix twisted its head to get a good look at the approaching bird. Soon, their beaks touched and, letting out a light crackle across the forest floor, Scratch crooked her head and neck in front of the strange bird it had been yelling at only moments ago. And, almost with practiced ease, the new phoenix began to preen Scratch in a rough but gentle manner.

Twilight stood up, and watched the pair begin to preen each other. Memories once more arose of the aviary in Celestia’s Castle, it’s grand, gold and white dome reaching high into the sky. Philomena perching herself atop Celestia’s back as her teacher lectured to her about the importance of projecting your best self to others. But something slithered in Twilight’s mind. While Philomena was not the only Phoenix in the aviary… She had never seen the other phoenixes interact with each other in the slightest. Normally they were on branches minding their own business, maybe even turning a golden eye back to Twilight. But she had never observed the kind of socialization she was seeing now.

This was far more akin to two ravens Twilight had watched in Fluttershy’s sanctuary. Poking and prodding each other, then screeching, only to suddenly stop and approach each other to preen, or to annoy, or play what Twilight can only call practical jokes on each other. Far more dirty, intimate and profane than the divinely cold distance that she had seen in that aviary. These phoenix’s were far more akin to Spike’s time raising Peewee before their departure back to Canterlot to assist in overseeing the war.

Twilight turned her head away for a moment, recounting Spike’s beloved pet, Pee Wee. His behavior was strange for a phoenix. And even stranger was Spike’s intuition in caring for it. At odd hours of the day, it would melt into the ground and cock it’s head up, and just start screaming. Anypony but Fluttershy might have gotten confused, but Spike instantly knew the first time that it was begging for food. It ate meat, much like Spike did, but Spike had to soften it by grinding it with a pestle while Pee Wee just cried out. And as soon as Spike finished, Peewee would start to bob its head, still screaming until Spike poured the contents of the bowl into its gullet. It didn’t take long for Spike to introduce the concept of a food bowl so that it might eat whenever it wanted, but the begging behavior never really went away. Twilight fully expected it to eventually stop at some point, if not for the fact that Spike found Pee Wee’s parents and returned the chick to them before their departure.

And that was ignoring the strange positions Pee Wee would sleep in, the strange way it waddled on the floor, and the even stranger fact that it preened Spike, despite him having no feathers… and he returned the favor using his claws to gently clean it back. But Twilight at the time assumed that it was a baby and would soon become as elegant and heavenly as any of Celestia’s flock, it was just a matter of time. But here was two Phoenixes who obviously broke away from that mold. They were fussy, loud, earthly, and imperfect.

And now, Scratch raised its head as the other bird lowered it, and began to return the favor, preening the stranger also with a practiced flow. An unease curdled in Twilight’s stomach. The same unease that curdled when Nightmare Moon had so easily dispatched Celestia. And the same unease when she discovered that Celestia could not help her against Discord. This was plebian for such sacred birds. Plebian and profane.

But despite Twilight’s tightening barrel, the pair continued without a worry in the world. Preening, clicking their beaks, whole heartedly speaking to each other in ways Twilight would never fully grasp. They stood near each other for a while, like perched song birds, enjoying each other’s company. But then, much like Pee Wee would do to Spike, Scratch slowly melted to the ground, cocked it’s head up, opened its beak and started making a loud scratchy, hissing caw at the new bird, who initially twisted its head down to look at Scratch, then, with a coo, turned and simply ignored it.

And a flash of insight bucked Twilight in the side of her temple as Scratch, with her deep red and golds, her plumage like a warm sunrise, continued to stick its head in the air, it’s beak open, and begged the strange phoenix for some food.

Xavier’s back was still arched, punishing him when the sound of birds going at each other had finally subsided. He was holding one of his wrappings against the scratch Twilight’s horn left after that morning’s scramble and he froze, staring at the entrance of the burrow. Slowly, he breathed in and out… in and out… as he kept his eyes locked on the entry way. Seconds passed into moments when the branches of the tree above him shook, and Twilight appeared at the entryway, lowering herself in. He gave a simple gaze at her, lifting his right eyebrow.

“I think Scratch’s mother found her and they were having an argument,” Twilight said, turning to check behind her.

“An argument?” Xavier replied with a vibe of befuddlement. “Mother?”

“If I recall my reading correctly, Phoenix families are complex and intricate,” Twilight slid down into the burrow. “A juvenile Phoenix may stay with its parents for years, even decades, learning and helping out before they fly off to start families of their own. And even then, when you are a member of a species with a functionally limitless lifespan, it’s not uncommon for grandparents and great-grandparents and so on and so on to help out with the youngest generations attempts to have chicks while still having their own brood for the year,” Twilight explained, turning back to Xavier, her mouth dropping an inch. In her gaze was a wrapping with a single, dark line in the middle glued on the human’s face. “Your face, did I-”

Xavier touched the wrapping below his left eye, held in place by dry blood and said, “Don’t worry, its nothing.”

Twilight’s heart sank as she just stared at the little piece of wrapping, holding back what little blood he still had left in him. “Xavier, I’m so sorry,” Twilight exclaimed, lifting her hoof to her chest, then approaching the human, staring at the wound she inflicted.

“Not your fault,” Xavier said with a mellow voice. He closed his eyes and leaned back, “So, why is mother and daughter having a fight?”

Twilight kept her focus on the cut, then she bit her lower lip as she replied, “I don’t know. Perhaps the nest was the mother’s, and she was upset with the daughter for the loss of the chicks. Or maybe she doesn’t like Scratch hanging around us. Though personally,” Twilight paused for a moment, “I think that Scratch is keeping an eye on you until you’re better, and maybe the mother just wants to move on. But honestly, I can’t say.”

“How far away are we from the attack site?” Xavier asked.

Twilight looked up, “Not as far as I’d like to be.” Twilight let out a mellow grunt, “Dragging you and everything else was such an exhausting effort that…” then she turned and gazed at the scratch she inflicted on Xavier. “Xaiver, I’m so sorry.”

“You did well given the circumstances,” Xavier spoke, still panting in pain. There was a long pause, then, Xavier twisted himself, and he was back on his side, breathing short, wheezing breaths.

“I, I’ll need to find something to put at the tip of my horn,” Twilight gasped out, walking towards the supplies. “Maybe a ball of mud around one of your used bandages or-” she froze. Xavier’s arm was outstretched, grasping her front leg.

“You are fine Twilight,” Xavier spoke, gazing into her eyes as green flashed behind them. “You did not fail anything. You did your best and if a scratch is the worst thing that happened, that deserves a banana sticker.”

Twilight froze as she listened to Xavier. She pulled herself away from his gaze, glancing left to right. Then she turned to face him, taking a seat and asked with a rough vibrato, “What’s with your change of attitude?” She gave the human a hardened gaze, “Ever since yesterday you’ve done everything you should have done since day one. Sharing yourself with me. Trusting me, even with knowledge of your… deeds. What are you playing at?”

Xavier breathed, then closed his eyes, and swallowed. “Let's play a game.”

“No, I want answers,” Twilight tapped her front right hoof against the ground.

“And you will get them, but first, we must play an abstract game,” Xavier said. Adjusting himself, he laid his head against an ad hoc pillow made of trash and one of the bags to pack the sleeping bags in. “You are-”

“Xavier, plea-” Twilight interrupted before he interrupted back.

“Humor me,” he said, returning her gaze.

Twilight rolled her eyes and tilted her head at Xavier. Her eyelids were halfway between annoyance and exasperation as she stared at him.

“It’s a dark and stormy night. You are in a shipwreck. Thankfully you got to a lifeboat, but most of the crew is dead. You amble around for a while, letting the waves rock you too and fro, and realize there is only room for one more. But then, you find two other ponies. Both equal distance from your boat-”

“I’d just use magic to-” Twilight interjected, only for Xavier to once again interrupt her.

“No magic,” Xavier shook his head, “assume a worst-case scenario. Look, the point is, to the left, is a doctor. You can hear her, she’s moaning. You can hear her drone about how all is lost and she should just let the sea take her. You’ve even got memories of her always being pessimistic, a downer. Now to your right is the oh… the scrub monkey. Her only job is to scrub the deck. She’s older than the doctor, but she is bright, enthusiastic, optimistic. You can hear her too. She’s talking to herself and telling herself she’s going to make it. She’s going to get back to port. She’s going to have a warm meal. Now,” Xaiver raised his finger. “Pick one to save.”

“The doctor is obviously my first pick,” Twilight spoke, hissing with exasperation. “But I’ve played such games before, so you’re going to tell me why that’s the wrong choice.”

Xavier shook his head, “If that’s the case, tell me why your first instinct is wrong.”

Twilight bit her lower lip and thought, “But, the doctor has so much to offer, there’s not much the scrub monkey has…”

“Come on,” Xavier murmured with a light growl. “Remember how I worded it.”

Twilight groaned, then sighed, “Their attitude?”

Xavier shook his head up and down, “A doctor does you no good if she has already accepted death. Imagine making it to an island with few supplies. That’s enough to push her over the edge. She either starts withdrawing or starts to do something horrific. The scrub monkey? The will to fight on, even if death seems inevitable is incredibly valuable.” Xavier lifted his hand, extending a scarred finger and tapping Twilight’s chest. “Survival is more than just living. In us both right now, we have an image of the future. Even if it's just a warm hearth and some cider, that image pushes us forward. But if despair subsumes you Twilight, if you let it drown that image in hopelessness, not only might I die, but you might as well.”

“So,” Twilight’s snout crumpled up, “You’re just… trying to cheer me up? To keep my morale high?”

“Would you prefer that I groan about how we’re all going to die?” Xavier asked.

“Oh, and you were doing a fine job of that yesterday, telling me to leave you if it seems you’re done for,” Twilight turned away with a grunt. “How was that supposed to keep my morale high?”

Xavier shook his head, placing his hand on his forehead for a split second, “S…sunk cost fallacy,” he muttered.

“Sunk cost?” Twilight tilted her head.

Xavier took a deep breath, “Have you ever over committed yourself to something that generated a reward that was not worth what you put into it?”

Twilight leveled her eyes at Xavier, “You are not -”

“I know, I know just… just work with me on this…” exasperation pouring out his voice.

“... A long time ago I was helping with a particular winter wrap up. No magic was permitted beyond usual telekinesis and … the more I helped, the …” Twilight trailed off. “I found my place eventually though, my organization skills came in handy afterwards.”

“But, if you did not move to a more organizational role…”

“Then… I probably would have invested far more effort than it might have been worth… for everypony” she sighed, looking away.

“I am trying to balance the two Twilight. A more cooperative attitude to help you get through this, and,” he let out a pained grunt, “keeping it realistic. So that you don’t spend too long trying to salvage a hopeless situation.”

“And…” Twilight softly spoke, “if we get out of this fine, are you just going to go back to being… you?”

Xavier simply blinked at Twilight, nonplussed, then asked, “Would you prefer me to not be me? There was a reason you initially found me alone, I like my solitude.”

“Thats… that’s not what I,” Twilight paused, then let out a small growl, “Why can’t this also be you?”

“Broken and maimed?” Xavier let out a chuckle that was half a choke. “I think you’d find me poor company if that’s your ideal partner.”

“No, that’s…” Twilight let out a more frustrated growl, then shouted, “Could you please not be purposely obtuse right now?”

Xavier’s breathing slowed, and the jovial features evaporated from his countenance as if something hidden in the mist had finally emerged. He was almost glaring at Twilight now. She recognized this, the same expression he took on when he suffocated that mare next to the stationary store. That same cold countenance in which she could only feel an abyss on the other side. Like a solar eclipse, the cheerful disposition was just absent. Gone. And it gripped her, grabbing her by the ears. She could feel herself breathing heavily as she was locked under his empty stare, her entire body glued in place.

“Is this outcome your desired course?” he asked, the cracked, cheerful tone replaced with a low static.

“I…” Twilight lifted her heavy foreleg up, holding it between her and Xavier, his stare not unlike Fluttershy’s when she was asserting herself.

“I find this state personally undesirable,” Xavier sharply articulated as gravel poured forth from his voice, and his eyes barreling at her, the dark of his pupil gripping her by the throat. “However, if it facilitates your comfort, I will comply.”

Twilight lowered her leg, and gulped, and matched Xavier’s eyes with her own. She straightened herself and spoke, “Dispassion is not what I seek. Speaking honestly with each other is what I want.”

“You do not seek honesty,” Xavier answered mechanically, “You seek affirmation of your desired outcome. You wish to believe the situation can be salvaged. However, you are resistant to processing the available information, which clearly indicates that the probability of success is minimal.”

Twilight looked down, tension consuming her face as her bangs hung towards the ground.

Xavier watched Twilight, then he looked away, his expression softening as he slumped, “Self-delusion… has its advantages too. Both of our ancestors didn’t get as far as they did if they gave up at the first sign of a truly grievous situation… and…” he paused, Twilight picking her head up at the words he offered her, “typically beings like us are… bad at measuring the true odds of a situation… for good reasons.”

Twilight surveyed Xavier as he relaxed back to his normal self, like ice melting in the sun. Little more than a placid lump of flesh that oscillated with every breath. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. And for a while, both just let the other exist.

“How did you do that?” Twilight asked, finally breaking the silence.

Xavier lifted himself up and raised an eye.

“That stare, how did you do that?” Twilight asked. “It felt like you had me in a vice… I have a friend who can do that. Just stare at you and it's like your entire being just… tenses up.”

Xavier blinked, then nodded, “You mean that thing I just did?”

“Exactly,” Twilight said, her head held high.

“What did your friend do for a living?” Xavier asked.

“She was a ranger, took care of the local flora and fauna,” Twilight answered.

Xavier slowly nodded, “That makes sense… The stare I used was the stare of a predator. She,” Xavier adjusted himself, and let out a whimper, “probably -”

“The stare of a what?” Twilight asked.

“Of a predator,” Xavier answered.

“How does that make any kind of sense?” Twilight shook her head.

“Because that’s what ambush predators do…” Xavier answered. He waited for Twilight to respond, only for her to shake her head. “Look,” Xavier said. “Try to imagine some of the earliest ponies Twilight, put yourself in their place. You need to gather supplies and the world is alot less tame for you then it is now. And one of the supplies… are berries from a shrub that grows close to the woods. You trot on over and start picking. And as you pick, you find yourself going deeper and deeper into the shrubs until… you find a pair of eyes staring at you.”

Twilight’s lips pursed for a moment, then she exhaled and nodded, closing her eyes.

“How do you feel?” Xavier asked.

“I don’t…” then Twilight frowned. “Okay… I don’t feel anything… but if I were to play along in earnest, I would be caught off guard at the very least.”

“Right, something has you in its gaze. What do you do next?” he asked. “It does not blink, it does not move. It's just looking at you.”

“I… might just freeze up…” Twilight expressed slowly. “I might try to back up.” Her eyelids tightened as she spoke, “But im worried that if I back up, it might…”

“Good, good… do you ever take your eyes off the pair you found?”

Twilight opened her eyes and quickly said, “No. No, not until I’m well enough away.”

“Good, good because the moment you take your eyes off of whatever this thing is, in a best case scenario it’s something indifferent to you. And in a slightly worse case scenario, it pounces and attacks.”

“Getting pounced is just a little worse?” Twilight exclaimed, halfway laughing.

“It is. It is because you still might survive that, Twilight. In the worst case… you are still staring at this thing in the bushes when your ear’s pivot to your left… or to your right… or if you are really screwed, both ways because while whatever that thing is just looks at you, gripping you with just it’s stare… Its friend’s, whom you didn’t even know were there… moved quietly into position and … attacked.”

Twilight let her mind conjure up images of a simple pounce, then being flanked and in her gut, understood what he was conveying. “You’ve done that before…” she let loose quietly from her lips.

Xavier said nothing as his eyeballs fell to look at the dirt floor, his small nostrils flaring for a split second. With a heave, he finally spoke, “Right… your friend probably discovered from her work as a ranger the same thing we discovered early on when we came over, a stare combined with the inclination to kill can force ponies to, at the very least, take us seriously.”

“So that’s what she found…” Twilight said, blinking her eyes open. “So, her time working with animals… she probably saw a situation or two where one of the predators she cares for was stalking something and saw how effective its stare is…”

Xavier gave a mangled shrug, “And if that is the case, she probably quickly learned she could use it on ponies as well.”

“So, wait…” Twilight’s eyes jumped back and forth. “Are we at anything’s mercy that can just… stare at us the right way?”

Xavier shook his head, “Ponies with strong personalities or who know what to expect can override their instincts on the matter. And there are also those who can catch themselves succumbing to the effects. Then there is the fact that the stare works on gryphons, smaller dragons, humans…”

“Humans?” Twilight nearly gagged. “You’re predators, how would it work on you?”

Xavier let out a sigh, “We are only very recently apex predators Twilight. Very, very recently,” he lifted a finger and lifted his lip showing Twilight his canines. “Stubby and small, no? Compared to a dragon or a Diamond Dog at least…”

Twilight blinked, “So it’s a holdover from your ancestors?”

“You could say that…” Xavier answered. “And don’t think an unprepared human wouldn’t also be affected by a pony giving them that stare Twilight. Though, depending on who you used it on… it might be perceived as more a challenge then a threat… a sort of meeting aggression with aggression strategy.”

Twilight fell deep into thought, glancing at the ground before Xavier spoke up, “Right, go ahead and practice on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go ahead and give me your best stare,” he said, shifting himself on the floor.

“I mean,” Twilight gave out a nervous laugh, “Why?”

“Well, if you’re going to go out into the forest, if you can give a good and proper stare… you might be able to use it to get dangerous animals to back off.”

“I don’t think-”

Xavier’s face fell into cold dispassion, then coughed, “You need every tool I can give you. Since we are on the subject, this is one of them,” Xavier said.

“Do you really think that I’ll actually need it?” Twilight asked, raising an eye.

“Better to have and not need than need and not have” Xavier answered, the morning ambiance finally creeping into the day proper.

“Don’t scrunch your snout,” Xavier said. “That’s displaying anger. That’s displaying discomfort. They are not a factor in your decision to cause me grievous injury. You are giving me your undivided attention, letting me know that you are at an infinitesimal point where one wrong move on my part may result in a fight I cannot win.”

Twilight broke her gaze and rolled her eyes, “This is asinine…”

“Tell that to a charging moose,” Xavier’s face stretched with annoyance. “Yes, It’s a frantic low chance last-ditch effort not to get gored, but you might just convince it to fuck off then risk facing your horn.”

“I think this hypothetical moose would win without my magic,” Twilight’s lip curled with exasperation.

Xavier groaned, “Yeah, maybe… Or maybe you’re getting charged by the right moose on the right day who’s just not interested in rolling the dice on a purple quadruped who’s standing her ground. Now, one more time.”

Twilight’s nostrils flared, as she shook her head, and with a groan, turned to face Xavier. She forced her face to take on a far more neutral stance, and just focused her Amethyst eyes into the human’s emerald irises. Her ears slowly folded as she held her gaze for a few moments before turning away and blurting out, “Why do I feel like my little brother when I don’t get something I want?”

“Little bro- oh yeah… you do have a little brother, don’t you? Or a son…?” Xavier mumbled.

“A son?!” Twilight’s ears shot up. “He is not my son!”

Xavier blinked, “You would know better.”

“Yeah, I would,” Twilight grumbled. She looked down and grit her teeth, “Though… none of the heard mothers helped take care of him…”

Xavier watched Twilight; her ears tilted simply towards the ground. Xavier took a deep breath, then just nodded, “Go on.”

Twilight lifted her head at her Ritter, then stretched her lips. A frown flashed before she looked away, “When Spike was born, I was still a filly. My brother was still being trained in the royal guard and, unbeknownst to me, being courted by Princess Cadence. Cadence, while I have no doubt would have helped me if she could… was being inducted into the ways of unicorn magic.”

Xavier looked to the bottom right corner of his eyes, “Wait, she had to undergo training?” Then he rocked his head to the right, “That tracks.”

Twilight nodded, “Cadence was a pegasus when she ascended. Unlike me and the rest of the unicorn tribe, because she had already lived most of her life without the gift of true magic, she had to be trained from the bottom up.”

“I see,” Xavier nodded, “Normally baby unicorns would be trying to magically move around what they could almost out of instinct,” Xavier said.

“How did you kno –“

Xavier pointed at the bandage across the cut on his face with his own wrapped arms, “These wouldn’t exist if not to serve some kind of purpose.”

“Right… So, you already know that it’s to help keep young unicorns magic under control, especially if they are in a family without any unicorns themselves. But, you can’t keep wrappings on a baby unicorns horns all the time, you absolutely have to give such a young unicorn time to explore what they can do with magic,” Twilight said.

“So… They can learn how to simply do the bare basics…”

“Exactly, and unfortunately, Princess Cadence never had any of this. For me, or any other unicorns on the street, simply picking something up like a small rock and putting it down with our magic is incredibly easy, no more difficult than lifting a hoof. But for her, the concept that she could even do it was kind of… Well, I won’t say beyond her. She eventually was able to do the bare basics that any unicorn could do… But she always fell back on how she did things before she ascended,” Twilight elucidated.

Xavier’s head bounced from side to side before he responded, “That also tracks…”

“…tracks?” Twilight asked.

Xavier blinked, shook his head then nodded, “Yes… Of course… uh…” He trailed off for a second, shaking his head again before finally continuing, “To have lived all your life without the ability to…” He tumbled over his own words for seconds before freezing. Twilight watched his eyelids clamping shut, then his neck craned awkwardly, “What I mean to say is, to suddenly have access to something so revolutionary… I wouldn’t be surprised if she still has a strong preference for doing things the way she used to before she gained magic…”

Twilight nodded, “You’re right, when she could, she always used her mouth to do basic things like picking a quill off the ground, but she got better.”

“Unlike say, you who went through those growing pains with the expectation that you would use magic accidentally…” Xavier said.

“Yeah, you’re right about that. As of foal, I had incredible leeway to well… Mess up. But I also didn’t exactly have the strength to accidentally break a toy in two,” Twilight said, giving a glance at Xavier.

“Did you ever teach Cadence?” Xavier asked. “I couldn’t imagine a better teacher.”

“You can’t imagine a better teacher?” Twilight let out a short, amused snort.

Xavier adjusted himself, “I read somewhere that to be given a single lesson by the Element of Magic is more illuminating then 10 years of sheer practice…”

“I can promise you,” Twilight said politely, standing up, “even I know that’s an exaggeration.”

“I think you give yourself too little credit,” Xavier answered as he watched Twilight round the extinguished campfire.

“And I think you’re just trying to keep my spirits high,” Twilight said giving a narrow look at Xavier. “And will say anything you need to in order to try and help me in your own weird little way.”

“So that’s it,” Xavier exhaled. “I try to be supportive after you save my life, and it’s seen as manipulation… fucking Christ” he groaned, turning away and staring up at the roots overhead. “Is that how you originally envisioned your relationship with the hypothetical pony you should have been bonded to? A pony that manipulates you? Is that what you are expecting?”

Twilight narrowed her brow, “Maybe if you had been more cordial since the start and didn’t run away, we would have gotten off on a better hoof.” Twilight blinked for a second, then slowly turned to face the human, “Why… did you run away?”

Xavier’s face stretched, “You…. Don’t know?”

Twilight simply looked at Xavier in silence.

“I,” Xavier hacked up a cough, “know better than to stay put somewhere while being under the effects of something strange.”

“Oh… Something he picked up during your war days, huh?” Twilight said with a slight snide.

Xavier looked up at Twilight, and with the same cold efficiency he had before simply stated, “Yes.”

Twilight’s head jerked back for a second, watching as the human quickly returned to his normal countenance.

“We don’t have magic where I come from Twilight, remember?” he said, his expression now far more muddled. “When something strange happens, when your bedroll is suddenly glued to the floor, or the campfire suddenly goes out, or someone notices no one is leaving footprints, or a knife is suddenly hovering meters away from you? You don’t just shrug and just accept it. You run or find cover and assume you’re currently engaged with some magic effect that just might kill you. Because the only thing worse than seeing these sorts of things happening is realizing it’s probably some perfidiarius using magic you only have the context you just witnessed to try and determine what is going on, why, and how to counter or negate it. So yes, that’s where I picked it up from. Saved my life on more than one occasion.”

Twilight turned away for a moment, frowning. But then her forehead wrinkled a bit and asked, “So, does magic affect you or not?”

Xavier’s head jerked up as he looked at Twilight with confusion.

“From what I understand,” Twilight continued, “magic doesn’t affect you. However, the fact that you can respond to heart song, implies that you in fact do.”

“It’s a bit of a long explanation,” Xavier leaned back a bit. “But I suppose you’ll need some sort of explanation. But before we start, have you heard about our ship of Theseus?”

“Ship of Theseus?” Twilight raised an eye.

“I guess not, the quick summary of it, is that it simply asks the question: If you take a ship, and replace every part of that ship with an equivalent part, is it still the same ship?”

Twilight looked down for a moment and pursed her lips, “You mean like Dutchess Mindful Meadow’s Wall?”

It was now Xavier’s turn to stare at Twilight, befuddlement sweeping his face.

“Maybe you have heard of the Grand Wall of Canteroy?”

“Ah,” Xavier finally nodded. “Just to make sure we’re talking about the same thing, explain it to me.”

Twilight started, “The Grand Wall of Canteroy is built on the order of the Dutchess to protect the city from the Argneighs. Over decades, attacks, wear and tear demand that the wall be repaired over and over again. When no original brick remains, is it still the wall that Dutchess Mindful Meadow ordered built? Later, because of how beloved Mindful Meadow is, each part of the wall that was destroyed or worn over time is stored away in a vault to be preserved and venerated. But magic is discovered that can rebuild and restore that original wall from the saved parts that were stored away. So, if it’s rebuilt, which wall is the true Grand Wall of Canteroy?”

“Good, good. We have a baseline to discuss Magic’s effect on humans now. However, one last question,” Xavier rolled his head. “Do you know anything about our theory of atoms?”

Twilight shook her head.

“Hmmm...” Xavier mumbled for a moment, then looked back at Twilight, “If I were to take a rock, and repeatedly divided by half, would I reach a point where I can’t divide anymore?”

“Yes," Twilight said with the snap, “Quirk Glitter proposed such a hypothesis about 60 years ago and evidence has accrued to the point that our scientists and spellcasters operate under the assumption that were all made of tiny spheres or clouds called Clorb Theory. Though if I recall… last I heard at least, they think it’s tiny smears now…”

“Clorb?” Xavier mumbled.

“It’s a portmanteau of cloud and orb. When I was in Canterlot, there was debate on if the fundamental units of matter were basically all spheres or more like clouds or smears. I don’t remember the exact details, but I had my head in studying magic at the time,” Twilight explained.

Xavier gave Twilight a confused look for a moment before saying, “Wait, I’m confused, wouldn’t Celst-…” then the human froze, and shook his head with a practiced laziness, “You know what, not now, never mind.” Xavier swallowed as he watched Twilight return a confused look. “Right, so what you called clorb theory, we call atomic theory. The fundamental conceit for both is that you can’t just subdivide a piece of matter, at some point you will reach an indivisible unit of matter that, if you subdivide it yet again, whatever remains is simply not matter as we would define it.” Xavier then let out an exhausted sigh, “Now that I know we’re working off the same conceits, I can explain how magic operates on humans.”

Twilight’s ears raised, angling forward as she focused on the wounded human.

“It’s not humans that are immune to magic. It’s the matter that we are composed of that is,” Xavier nodded his head up and down.

Twilight didn’t move for a few moments, blinking and looking left and right, before finally, like a dam bursting open, asked, “That… Okay, no, but…” Xavier said nothing as Twilight’s eyes widened, “So that explains a lot. During the riot, I saw a human-mare take a stunning spell to the back and be unfazed. But when I turned your binding spell against you…”

“Precisely,” Xavier coughed. “If the woman was a tourist, she may have been breathing this universe’s air, and eating this universe’s is food, and drinking this universe’s is water, but if she’s only been here a short while, she would not be composed of enough of what you call ‘orb clouds’ from this side to be affected by magic. Her clothes would also offer her some protection depending on the spell and other properties it entails. I, however, was wearing clothing that, while designed for humans, was constructed from matter from this universe. Furthermore, I’m not fully ‘saturated’ yet.”

“Saturated?”

Xavier nodded, “Our term for when a being reaches the point of having replaced enough of its native matter with matter from this universe.”

“And if what you told me about clothing is correct, would imply that… Even if our magic doesn’t affect your matter, our matter still affects your matter…” Twilight nodded.

“Exactly,” Xavier said. “A human that is completely unsaturated, wearing clothes from my universe would probably simply be unaffected. But your matter still does, so you could just telekinetically throw something instead, or if you were feeling particularly insidious, cast a spell on something adjacent to me and watch the fire works.”

“So… When you’re made of only some of the matter of our universe, and some of the matter from your universe… Magic only partially affects you?” Twilight asked.

“Now we’re getting into territory that I’m not too sure about. But, I think I can at least point some things out,” Xavier said. “First, if your magic only affects one element, and no other, the only percentage that really matters is how much of a percentage of that element is in our bodies. Normally, it would take us a few weeks to lose such immunity, but there is a reason that we can be affected by specific types of magic earlier…”

Twilight blinked and then blurted out, “Air!”

Xavier nodded, “So you know oxygen affects the brain…”

“Of course I do,” Twilight blurted out incredulously, “so the effects you gain from singing…”

“Would begin in only a matter of seconds or minutes we started breathing your universe’s air,” Xavier nodded. “Each general type of magic has its own timeframe with regards to the point that we can start being impacted by their full effects. That said,” Xavier adjusted himself, “it seems that we don’t need a hundred percent of our matter to be fully replaced with matter from this universe to become fully susceptible to magic. We’re not sure why, but somewhere between 70 and 85% of being composed of this universe’s is matter is the point at which we effectively lose our initial immunity.”

“Does it…” Twilight paused and gulped for a second, lowering her head and folding her ears back, “does it feel any different?”

Xavier shook his head, “There are some who claim they can feel the difference, but even I’ve got to call bullshit on that.”

Twilight wrinkled her nose, then asked, “Do you know how much you’re composed of now?”

Xavier shook his head, “No, during my first time here, I was here long enough to become fully saturated as we say. But then I went back for awhile and well… since some atoms take longer to be replaced, and others get replaced very quickly, I couldn’t give you an answer off the top of my head.”

“Well, can you guess?” Twilight asked.

“Guess?” Xavier turned his eyes at Twilight and raised an eye.

“Yeah, guess,” she simply said.

Xavier glanced down, and his fingers started flicking, back and forth like worms after a storm, trying to escape the rain when he suddenly froze, “50 percent.”

“Alright, you just picked that because its halfway,” Twilight muttered as she narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

“You asked me to make a guess…”

“An educated guess.”

“You never said anything about an educated guess.”

“It’s what I implied.”

“It’s what you assumed. Your statement didn’t convey any implied meaning.”

Twilight groaned, rolling her eyes, “Again, being purposely obtuse.”

“Would you prefer me to be purposely acute?” Xavier answered with his eyes at the crux of starting their own roll.

“Please take this seriously,” Twilight grunted.

“I am, I’m guessing 50 percent because I’m willing to wager that most of the water that comprises my body hasn’t fully rotated out yet, I mean with the blood loss, that will probably be sooner than that. Of course there are other chemicals like calcium and whatnot that would take years to fully cycle through, but in my case, given my time here already, I would honestly assume that I would just need the remaining water in my body to come from this side to enter into a state of saturation,” Xavier answered.

Twilight turned and muttered, “Honestly, speaking of all the blood you lost, I wouldn’t be surprised if just a few gulps of water were enough to push you into what you call ‘saturation’.”

“Speaking of blood loss,” Xavier let out a haggard cough. “What exactly was that thing that tried to kill me?”

“It’s a Unneb,” Twilight answered as she turned and started sorting the supplies. “As you already figured out, they prey on Phoenix and their eggs.” Twilight froze, then turned to Xavier, “Before you ask, yes they do eat other animals. But they will always aim to pray on Phoenix’s first.”

“Well, well, well,” Xavier let out a soft chortle, “one of my many old questions is finally answered.”

Twilight raised an eye at Xavier, “About how the Phoenix population is stymied?”

“Indeed,” Xavier nodded. “I saw one or two in the distance a few times during my travels but never up close and personal. And there were other things to worry about, so it was a question that I never got back to.”

“Do you have many questions like that? That you just ask and shove aside?”

“One can’t always focus on everything; it would be a sisyphean task.”

“Sisyphean?” Twilight cocked her head.

“Sorry, a task that cannot be completed.”

“I got it from the context,” Twilight said with a light chuckle, “I meant where did that metaphor come from?”

“Oh,” Xavier adjusted himself. “It’s from a myth about a king who tricks a pantheon of gods in such a heinous way that they punish him to roll a rock up a hill or mountainside for all eternity.”

Twilight said nothing as she looked up thoughtfully, then asked, “So, does that mean that once he gets so far, the rock falls back down to the start? Or is it an infinitely tall slope and he can only keep pushing? And if it’s the latter, are there spots he can rest the rock?”

“I… I don’t know?” Xavier looked left and right for a moment, “I’ve never thought about it that deeply. And I don’t particularly remember a version of the story where they go to details about the task, though, at least it was implied that he never got to rest.”

Twilight cleared her throat, “Well, not to be rude but that’s an important part of the story, isn’t it? You could argue that farmers are performing such a task. They infinitely plow fields and harvest crops but because they have some measurement of success, they don’t consider the task impossible.”

Xavier blinked, glanced to his left and nodded, “But the farmer’s end goal isn’t to farm an infinite amount of plants, its simply to maximize seasonal yields and profit.”

“True, but still, most farmers don’t have a terminal time or yield at which point they just unshackle themselves from their plows and announced to the world that they’re done, right?” Twilight slightly turned her head, appraising Xavier like Rarity would a gemstone or a bolt of cloth.

“Depends on the farmer I would assume,” Xavier answered. “Perhaps some are magpies as you say and would prefer to move on to other things. Or perhaps they’re ponies that only farm to ensure that they can-” Xavier stopped in midsentence, “hang on, is there a term for the opposite of a pony that you would call a magpie? One that wants to perform its talents, but is prevented for some reason?”

Twilight looked up for a moment, “we have a few, ‘bridled hearts’, ‘thwarted dreamers’, ‘Silkworms’.”

Xavier raised an eye, “‘Silkworms’?”

“I don’t exactly understand the history of the term,” Twilight said. “But if I understand correctly, it’s because the silk that silkworms make was never their true talent.”

“Their true talent being?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Twilight blinked. “Grow fat and become moths.”

“Oh,” Xavier mumbled.

“There are many ponies with, for lack of a better term, less than prosocial talents. Artists for example are important during times of great abundance, but when there’s a famine, we really need them out on the fields harvesting, or in the woods gathering,” Twilight answered.

“I see,” Xavier exhaled. “Without community survival, there’s no community to begin with…”

“Indeed,” Twilight answered.

Xavier glanced away and looked up at the roots overhead. “Speaking of community survival, on the Unneb,” Xavier swallowed. “Since you know about them, how does your kind normally deal with them?”

Twilight simply blinked, once, then twice before she said, “We don’t.”

Xavier raised an eye at Twilight.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Twilight groaned, then looked away.

“Ponies, dragons, and griffins should have come up with something…”

Twilight looked down, took in a deep breath, and spoke, “My first encounter with them was in a story. I was mildly curious and followed up by an encyclopedic reading on them. You must understand,” Twilight swallowed before continuing, “They are one of the very few non-monstrous creatures that we abandon land over.”

Xavier turned to Twilight, watching the mare take in another deep breath before she continued.

“Even with an Ursa Major or a Bugbear, a farmer would go to the community for help, and in the hinterlands at least, an Ursa Major that strayed too near the land ponies worked would be marked for… removal, and volunteers would be rounded up because no sane pony would tackle one by themselves. It’s not something those communities want to do, but it’s a necessity to ensure everypony’s safety.”

“The Unneb however,” Twilight looked up at Xavier, her purple eyes staring into his green ones, “We don’t often have to mess with them, but the Unneb have been known to… carry grudges. On the odd chance that a farmer saw one near their property, they would simply work at getting evidence that one was nearby. Then they would submit the evidence to the Township, who would submit the evidence to the kingdom proper. The farmer would be compensated, and the property declared off-limits for 10 years.”

Xavier looked away, his eyes darting left and right before returning to Twilight’s face.

“In one instance, there was a pair of guardmares who killed a juvenile Unneb. It was a very, very long time ago, and as far as the reports say, it was an accident. Apparently, it had wandered into town and the guardmares were simply trying to herd it back into the woods. The town didn’t have an assigned ranger, so they did their best. But the report says it attacked them, and, being guardmares who didn’t want to be accidentally mauled by it, broke it’s neck with a clean buck. But after that, things got worse,” Twilight carefully spoke. “A lot worse.”

Xavier’s face fell into a frown.

“It’s mob pretty much declared war on the town. But it wasn’t just the fact that the birds went to war over the juvenile, it was the cruelty that came with it. One report had an instance of a pony crying out for help near a road where both sides were arched with large trees. The other ponies of course, rush to rescue it only for one of the ponies to realize something was wrong. The victim was out in the open, its rear legs dragged behind it as the pony was pulling himself with his front legs. That’s when one of the mares realized it was a trap.”

“… They laid a trap?”

Twilight nodded, “Soon, the guardmares appeared and were able to rescue that poor stallion while dealing with the Unneb who were in the trees waiting to ambush any would be rescuers. As he was recovering from his injuries, he explained that he had been ambushed while collecting berries in the forest. Two Unneb held him down while a third Unneb,” Twilight began to carefully enunciate, “carefully punctured his spine.”

Xavier blinked over and over again, then turned away, unfocused for a moment before turning back to Twilight.

“You must realize Xavier,” Twilight let out a exhale before continuing, “most creatures that do not speak are generally either animals, or monsters. But even in those two groups, there’s a feeling that lashing out is only an act to ensure their survival, or their progeny’s survival. But what that Unneb did was nothing short of cruelty. A group of them targeted a stallion that was uninvolved with the death of that juvenile, inflicted grievous injuries on him while keeping him alive, then used him as bait hoping to snag another lonesome pony trying to do their best to save a member of the community.”

Xavier kept silent as he nodded.

“After much deliberation, and a few more incidents, the town could no longer let it continue and made an official plea for help to Canterlot. But after sending some Rangers, investigators and members of the magic corps, it was decided that the town would be ordered to evacuate.”

“Evacuate?” Xavier raised an eye.

“By then, the attacks had escalated. Of course, nopony was proud of it. But Canterlot could see that the escalation of the Unneb was becoming untenable, as they had started using fires that ponies left burning to light branches, and in turn, used them to start setting homes ablaze,” Twilight answered.

“I see,” Xavier nodded

“That said, of course, that wasn’t the only strange thing about the reports I read,” Twilight said. “Normal protocol back then dictates that the wildlife Rangers get called in. Normally, they would assess the situation and attempt a peaceful resolution of some nature. They were called in, but not authorized to act. And next, the Pegasai Defense Forces filed an official objection, as they had not even been given the chance to try and fight back. There were also… other organizations that normally would have been deployed, but Celestia overruled them and placed a 75 year moratorium on populating the area.”

“75 years!?” Xavier coughed out. “That's three generations, exactly how long do those things live?”

“If I had to wager,” Twilight said, “40 years at most.”

“So,” Xavier’s fingers started flickering, “if we assume that the youngest bird among them was only say, five years old, that would give about double time to die off of other causes…” Xavier mumbled. “But the fact that she just declared that area barred from habitation, and if Celestia has experience with them, perhaps she knows that trying to fight back is not worth the effort?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said. “Honestly I think that because the town was in the hinterlands, it wasn’t seen as a Township to waste resources like that over when it would be easier to just rehome the inhabitants and let the creatures win since it looks like they would just forget about the entire thing decades later.”

Xavier let out a chuckle, “Victory by generational forgetfulness, that’s actually quite clever if you have the time to burn... Still, I can’t imagine the ponies of the town just accepted it.”

“I don’t know,” Twilight repeated. “That’s as far as I read into it. She ordered the evacuation and compensation of the landed ponies. And that was that.”

“Still,” Xavier shook his head. “Something’s off about that. I mean,” Xavier glanced up at Twilight and spoke very slowly, “For some pony as… Powerful as Celestia, one might think that such a concession implies an inability to handle it…”

Twilight rolled a glare over at Xavier, “She has bigger things to worry about than some town on the hinterlands.” Twilight adjusted herself up, taking a regal position before continuing, “Excluding her daily duties, she has an entire nation to manage, and celestial affairs to oversee.”

“But it was enough to get her attention and-” Xavier stopped, snorted out his nose and said, “no, you’re right.”

After a long pause, Twilight said “I am?”

Xavier said nothing as he let gravity pull down on him, letting the early morning cool air wash over him.

Twilight sauntered over and let her front knees fold atop her sleeping bag next to Xavier. His eyes were closed and he breathed slowly. Lifting a hoof, she tapped it against the human’s shoulder, who answered with a lazy flutter of his eyelids.

“You’re not done,” Twilight said.

Xavier looked up at Twilight, and let out a mangled, “Egh?”

“You’re not done, you were going to say something,” Twilight answered.

Xavier shook his head, “No, I concede the point. I was going to argue that if it was enough to get her attention, she might be inclined to actually do something but… I have no clue as to what kind of bureaucratic system is set up.”

Twilight gulped, then fell on her front knees. Letting the rest of her body follow her to the ground, she slowly shuffled close to Xavier. Then with an exhale, leaned herself against the human, who only watched.

“Taking the initiative?” Xavier mumbled.

“Taking my prize,” Twilight answered, leaning more of her weight into the human.

He grunted, and adjusted, while she too adjusted until finally both parties were still. Then Xavier lifted his arm with a hollow grace and started stroking the side of Twilight’s cheek.

“Why do you do that?” Twilight asked.

“Do what?”

“Rub me like that,” she softly growled.

Xavier wiggled a bit before saying, “You won’t like the answer.”

“Don’t tell me it’s more morale boosting,” Twilight verbally nipped.

Xavier took a deep breath before answering, “It’s how we express affection.”

“It is? So, it is more of your morale boosting nonsense…”

“It’s how we express affection… to pets,” Xavier answered bemoaningly.

Twilight jerked her head away from the human and his hand with indignity plastered across her face, “A pet? That’s what you boiled me down to? A pet?”

Xavier shook his head, “You have fur. I’ve been around cats and dogs most of my life, they’ve trained me well.”

Twilight blinked then let out a snort, “Trained you well?” She blurted out before catching herself mid laugh.

“It’s true,” Xavier said. “It was the cats that did most of the training you know, the dogs would also look at me with confusion when they would saddle up next to me and not at least receive a head pat.”

Twilight couldn’t help herself, more giggles erupted from her lungs, “So that’s what I should’ve done from the start, just straddle up to you and keep quiet and you’ll start touching me huh?”

A smile creeped across Xavier’s face, prying his lips upwards, “Oh, so now you’re going to embrace the pet term? What happened to that mortification I heard before.”

“Well, if pets can have enough station in your mind to train you, maybe you’re the pet,” Twilight letting loose a smile.

“I don’t suppose,” Xavier took a moment to take a deep breath, “you have the same jokes about cats as we do?”

“Which is?”

“We’re the pets, and they tolerate our existence.”

“Oh my stars,” Twilight looked up. “You have no idea.”

Both Twilight and Xavier let out a laugh, only for Xavier’s to be cut short by a slash of pain. As Xavier caught himself, pacing his deep breaths, Twilight lowered her head before looking over to Xavier, “You don’t actually see me as a pet, do you?”

Xavier shook his head, “Given my situation here, I fully admit that I’m more the pet than you are right now.”

“But your stroking of me,” Twilight reeled her head back a little.

“As I said, it’s…” Xavier let out a small cough. “Something I’ve learned to the point of instinct.”

Twilight’s eyes wavered to and fro for a moment before she looked back over at Xavier and asked, “I would,” her words stuck in her throat for a moment before she forced it out, “appreciate it if you were to continue to stroke me.”

Xavier opened his eyes, catching Twilight looking away from him except for a single glance. Reaching out, he began to stroke her cheek.

Twilight slowly laid her weight into the human once more, “I don’t suppose you could try behind my ears, could you?”

Xavier froze and lifted his hand, “First time I’ve ever gotten this kind of feedback before.” His hand hovered towards Twilight’s left ear and began to softly stroke behind it.

“Harder,” Twilight growled. “It feels like you’re tickling.”

Xavier’s hand followed her instructions and began to scratch instead. Twilight’s jaw loosened as her eyes slammed shut and almost rolled to the back of her head. She tried to say something, but she couldn’t. It was almost like he was scratching an itch that had always been there, and always beyond reach before now.

Finally, the words poured out, “Oh Elysium, that’s the spot.”

She leaned her head towards his scratching, his thin nails digging beneath her fur and mane. Twilight’s eyes kept pushing to the back of her skull as a blanket of relaxation enveloped her. She adjusted her head and let out a grunt as Xavier continued. Soon, however, he stopped as Twilight was slowly lulled out of her trance, gazing at the floor, simply feeling Xavier’s presence near her. Once more she shuffled towards him and simply leaned her head against his chest.

After the brief sojourn, Twilight began her work for the day, starting with checking Xavier’s wounds. The bleeding had slowed significantly now. Several of the bandages only absorbed a yellowish color. Caution still gripped Twilight’s hind, so she still went through the pouring of alcohol into each wound, Xavier writhing each time.

Afterwards, Twilight helped Xavier adjust his position so that he was hunched over, freeing both of his hands to help in preparing the cattails that Twilight had harvested. As she went to drag more firewood in for the night, Xavier started by peeling off the outerlayer of the plants, and using the stubby knife, scraping slime from each of the plants into one of the small, expandable bowls from his pack.

“What’s with this sticky stuff?” Xavier grumbled, grabbing another cattail from the stack.

Twilight grunted as she pulled in a long branch, then dropped it into the pile, “Don’t just clean it off, put it in the bowl. We can use it for your wounds.”

Xavier froze, his knife skidding to a stop atop the plant as he raised an eye at Twilight, “And you know this because…”

“Zecora,” Twilight answered, pushing the branch parallel with the other sticks. She then tossed a glance over at Xavier, “are you going to throw a fit?”

“So, you did learn a thing or two,” Xavier answered as he finished scraping the plant in front of him and sliding the blade against the bowl, leaving the clear slime behind.

Twilight groaned as she glared at Xavier, “More flak?”

Xavier shook his head, grabbing another plant and peeling it, “Not from me.”

Twilight’s eyes softened as she turned away and began rearranging the sticks she had brought for the fire, “It has antiseptic properties, it should also help with the pain. Anyways,” Twilight glanced over at the box holding the alcohol, “We’ve already used a lot keeping your wounds clean to begin with.”

“In my bag,” Xavier said, cattail in hand, “there should be a small blue box with a bottle in it that has an orange cap. It’s iodine, and if we run out of alcohol, we can use that in a pinch I think.”

“Hmmm,” Twilight pursed her lips. “I’m guessing we’ll probably have to prepare it?”

Xavier nodded, “Yeah, but I honestly don’t know how. Or even if it’s a good idea. Just a vague memory of iodine being used as disinfectant. But, if things come to worse, it might be a decent last resort.”

“I still think that the cattails slime would be better once we’ve ensured that your wounds won’t burst open at the seams so to speak,” Twilight lightly turned her head to Xavier. “If I could use my horn, I would’ve been able to sew you up. My lips don’t have the control that an earth pony has.”

“Using one’s teeth to sew seems like a dangerous proposition,” Xavier said.

Twilight said, “Earth ponies make do. On occasion you might catch one in the hinterlands or boonies with decolorated spots around their lips, that’s where it’s from. Unicorns have always been the better ponies when it came to manipulating small, delicate things, well,” Twilight looked up at the ring around her horn, “When we can use magic that is.”

Xavier nodded, scraping more slime into the bowl.

Twilight glanced over, watching Xavier continued to scrape slime into the bowl with a practiced efficiency, “Out of curiosity, can you taste with those?”

Xavier looked up, a puzzled expression swept over his face, “My hands?”

Twilight nodded.

Xavier shook his head, “Thankfully no, but there are certain textures that, well, feel off for lack of a better term.”

Twilight looked over to her completed firewood pile and quickly shifted her eyes towards Xaiver before slowly sauntering over to him. Her eyes watching his blunt claws repeat the motion of exposing the tender part of the cattail, then clean off the slime with the blade he held.

“You obviously can’t slash at things with those…” Twilight said, taking a seat in front of the human.

“Well,” Xavier let out a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a grunt, “If we shape our nails and file them just right, we can, but,” he scraped some slime into a bowl, and held the knife out in front of him, his hand encasing the handle in front of Twilight. “No need to when you can just grasp a knife that is always sharp and far more durable than any nail.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes as she studied the hand grasping the knife in front of her, “Some dragons can also do that, as with some griffins, but the way their talons are curved, they must grasp delicately. But your limbs obviously allow you variation… and your dexterity allows you to emulate the sort of magic my tribe can do.”

Xavier nodded, “Right, but the real secret sauce is using the tools you have to make better tools and using those tools to make better tools.”

Twilight looked up at him, “So you would use a knife to make a sharper knife? I mean I guess that could work…”

Xavier shook his head, “Close, think of it like this.” He put the knife down before he started, “Remember when you asked me about what kinds of magic you would need to enchant a door that opens on its own?”

Twilight nodded.

“We aggregate small tools to either combine them to make a new tool, or we use these tools to design a better tool,” Xavier answered.

“Like a dropforge?” Twilight asked.

“The one Earth Ponies who smith use to hammer metals?” Xavier asked.

Twilight once more nodded, “Earth ponies have to do a lot of work to build one. But you have to start out with the stone chipped into the shapes they need, several wheels and wooden cogs, some leather belts imported from griffins, and after spending weeks assembling the forge, it lets them smith metals in teams of two, one to run in the wheel to lift the stone hammer, and the more experienced of the two to adjust and turn the slab of metal to whatever specifications they’re aiming for. Typically, the first thing a dropforge will make is a new metal hammer for the dropforge itself and they will spend the first few months replacing it bit by bit with metal parts forged from the forge itself.”

Xavier returned the nod, “That’s a good example. Though I’m surprised smithing is a craft not dominated by Unicorns…”

Twilight shook her head, “Earth ponies have always had a need for metal. Especially on farms.”

Xavier whispered to himself, “Shoes…”

“Exactly,” Twilight said, catching his word. “Shoes, ploughs, and other equipment of course. And while there are some Unicorn smiths, they are far more specialized. Much of the armor produced during the war was manufactured by Earth Ponies who expanded their dropforges with water wheels. Though to be honest, this caused a lot of issue when Sombra weakened magic, since Pegasi couldn’t control the weather anymore, some of the rivers never flowed quite right again…”

“Why was that?” Xavier asked.

Twilight turned to Xavier, shooting him a quizzical look.

“Magic, before we arrived, we understood it had been weakened somehow, but we never got any details…”

“I… I honestly don’t know…” Twilight trailed off before her eyes focused towards the tip of her snout. “The proper kind of magic that I can do without this stupid ring was foal’s play. But after whatever Sombra did, if you were a member of the magic corps or one well trained in the horned arts, much of what we could do suddenly either became too strenuous to be used reliably or outright impossible.” Twilight lifted her eyes to Xavier, “I used to be able to teleport you know.”

“As in going from point A to point B without being able to draw a line between the two points?” Xavier asked.

Twilight nodded, “Exactly. But now it just refuses to work for lack of a better word. I still remember the flow of how it went, the state of focus but… -”

Then, a bellow rang from the forest. Twilight twisted her body to face the entrance by instinct. She kept her eyes locked at the hole leading to their sanctuary when another bellow ripped through the air, shaking the ground. And then, a final bellow, louder than the first two.

Both Xavier and Twilight stared at the entrance. They kept their eyes tight, not budging a single millimeter.

Soon, silence grew in the gnarled hole of roots and earth as the wind rustled outside, and the rays of the sun danced among the trees.

Many Years Ago

The painted blues of the night sky stretched before both mother and daughter. The sound of leaves dancing echoed far behind the two as they sat out in the field. The stars twinkled, each one at their own pace, their own rhythm while the moon’s own arch was laying to its side on the canvas of the night.

Twilight Velvet pursed her lips back and forth before starting, “Sparkle sweetie, we need to talk about the three kinds of monsters.”

Twilight looked up at her mom and raised an eye, “why would I ever face a monster?”

“Because, monsters won’t always give you the opportunity to avoid them,” Twilight Velvet said. “Among other things…”

Twilight Sparkle stood still as she listened to her mother start.

“The first of these monsters are the ones you know well. They are the ones who chase you. You’ve heard them in many stories, and, thankfully, your body knows just what to do most the time.”

“Which is?” Twilight Sparkle asked.

“Runaway of course. But such monsters are easy to find because they are after you. The other two types are far more insidious,” Twilight Velvet said. “The second kind is the kind that hides in plain sight. What’s dangerous about them is that you could be walking past them and never know they were there.”

“Like an ant lion?” Twilight Sparkle interjected.

Twilight Velvet froze, turned to her daughter and gave a wide grin, “Exactly! How did you-?”

“I’ve been reading from Busy Bee’s guide to insects,” Twilight Sparkle answered without looking up.

Twilight Velvet nodded, “And a very good example that is. For you see Twilight, with the first kind of monster, you can try and run away, and there’s a very good chance you could. But your chances of surviving an encounter with the monster of the second sort is all the much lower. For, as in the antlion’s case, the ant has already fallen into the pit and escape is far from guaranteed.”

“So the first kind chases you, and the second kind you stumble onto, the third kind is… You’re chasing them?”

“Indeed,” Twilight Velvet shot a smile at Twilight Sparkle. “Tell me, in your readings, have you come across anything called the Honey Panda?”

Twilight Sparkle shook her head.

“In the hinterlands, for the mares who find their calling in apiculture, domesticated bees don’t fare well there. So they have to… Improvise.” Twilight Velvet trailed off.

“How?”

“It’s rather simple really,” Twilight Velvet said, “they have to use the indigenous bee population. But finding such bees is a far more difficult task then you might assume.”

Twilight Sparkle tilted her head at her mom.

“To solve this, some forests in the hinterlands will, if the mare is lucky, have a creature known as a Honey Panda. And finding Honey Pandas isn’t difficult. And since a Honey Pandas diet is primarily honey, they have the forest well memorized and know where to go precisely to find honey.”

“Which means they know where the bees are at,” Twilight nodded.

“Exactly! But, unfortunately for the Honey Panda, despite having all the tools of a predator, they don’t have the instincts of one. In fact, there are plenty in the forest that would eat them up for lunch.”

“Well, that’s good then,” Twilight Sparkle said.

“Oh no, not at all,” Twilight Velvet shook her head. “For you see, when a mare in such a place discovers her talent is beekeeping, she must, like a predator, stalk and follow the Honey Panda. For if they know initially that they are being followed, they won’t go to the beehives out of an abundance of caution. So, the mare must track them, and stalk them like a predator might do to pray. And the real danger is when, while the Honey Panda is headed towards a nest, they sense the mare.”

Twilight Sparkle gulped, “What um… What happens?”

Twilight Velvet slowly turned to her daughter, and she gave her a grizzly stare, “Well, they run away.”

“They runaway? How is that dangerous?” Twilight Sparkle asked.

“Because many mares in such a situation, being young and naïve, will give chase. Of course, you and I know that those ponies don’t mean any harm. But they don’t…” Twilight Velvet trailed off. “And things get dangerous when either the Honey Panda starts to get exhausted, or worse yet, feels trapped.”

Twilight Sparkle let out a whine before asking, “What happens next?”

Twilight Velvet looked at Twilight Sparkle in her motherly way before saying, “They attack of course. They share the forest with the Ursa Major, among other predators. I could tell you the details of all the attacks I know of daughter, but the point of this conversation isn’t to scare you. It’s to inform you. Honey Pandas are monsters of the third kind, they run away.”

“I still don’t understand,” Twilight Sparkle said. “How can they be so dangerous if they just run away?”

“Because the moment that they feel they’re trapped, they turn and fight. And with monsters of the first sort and the second sort, they have well developed killing instincts. They know just how to kill you quickly and efficiently. They don’t want a fight. They want a meal, and that means making the killing blow quick. Monsters of the third sort do not,” Twilight Velvet finished.

“What um,” Twilight Sparkle paused for a second. “What do they do?”

“Are you sure you want to know? It could keep you up at night…” Twilight Velvet said, giving Twilight Sparkle a cold stare.

Twilight gulped and nodded.

“If it had been any other predator, if the mare was lucky, they would just go for the throat and clamp down until the mare peacefully passes away… well, as much as she can. But this is prey we are talking about Twilight, they don’t have a natural killing instinct. Only a natural survival instinct. Based on the bodies that do get recovered, they start by… Biting the face, and then they go to work on them,” Twilight Velvet said.

“The face, and they go to work?” Twilight asked lifting her front canon to her chest.

Twilight Velvet nodded, “That’s just to make sure that whatever is chasing them can’t bite back we think. They try to do the same thing to something even as huge as an Ursa Major. Then, using the claws that they normally use to extract honey,” Twilight Velvet stopped. “I don’t have the heart to tell you daughter. But know that Honey Pandas almost never eat any part of the body. It’s just a chewed-up mess. They never raise their voices or howl when they attack. They just leave… a mess.”

“Sounds like to me that,” Twilight Sparkle shook her head, “it sounds like to me that they didn’t want to fight in the first place.”

Twilight Velvet nodded, “And that’s what makes monsters of the third sort so dangerous. By running away, they are in truth…” Twilight Velvet paused for a long while, staring out amongst the stars, “They are being kind.”

“Monsters can be kind?” Twilight Sparkle asked.

Twilight Velvet laughed, “Of course they can be kind. And they can be cruel. The point is daughter, given your penchant for swaths of reading, I’m willing to wager that you will be a librarian one day.”

“That’s not!” Twilight Sparkle froze for a second. “I want to be a master at magic. And I haven’t even gone my brand yet so…”

“True, you still have much potential,” Twilight Velvet smiled.

“Maybe you’re the one who should go back to being an astronomer, magpie” Twilight Sparkle sniffled.

Twilight Velvet’s head recoiled from her daughter, “Magpie? Who told you about that?”

“I heard it from your sisters,” Twilight answered.

“Sparkle, sweetie,” Twilight Velvet said. “Talents aren’t as cut and dry as the marks on our rumps.”

“How?” Twilight Sparkle asked.

“Well, think about your brother’s mark,” Twilight Velvet smiled. “Just because he has a strong desire to protect others doesn’t mean he lacks other interests. Like playing with you. Or role-playing with his friends. He even has his own reading interests. Would you call him a magpie for reading like you?”

Twilight Sparkle turned away from her mother and let out a snort.

“Yes, I understand that what we are branded with should be our highest pursuit sweetie,” Twilight Velvet started, “but you must understand that we would be no better than ants if other things didn’t fascinate us.”

“Is it true that you don’t think that one’s mark means much?” Twilight Sparkle asked, looking up at her mother.

Twilight Velvet looked away, then back at her daughter before once more looking away again and answering, “I think that our cutie marks only represent the first time that we become completely enthralled in something. That’s it. And Twilight Sparkle, as you grow older, you will discover more things that fascinate you, that completely capture your attention.”

“But that’s not what the Temple Sister says,” Twilight Sparkle rebutted. “She says that our mark is our highest calling.”

“Then if that’s the case,” Twilight Velvet said in a surprisingly enthusiastic tone, “how did you and your brother get here?”

“I mean, according to what I’ve read, you and dad got excited, and you let him mount you right?”

“Right,” Twilight Velvet nodded. “But if he and I were so focused on doing as our brands say, why bother? I mean,” Twilight Velvet waved her head left and right, “having your brother and you could only take time away from me, your father, and my herd sister’s marks right? Thus if any pony was truly committed to their mark, they would never have foals.”

Twilight Sparkle turned away from her mother, and shuddered.

“You find this a bit unsettling?” Twilight Velvet smiled.

“I mean, then what’s the point?” Twilight Sparkle asked, looking up to her mother.

Twilight Velvet closed her eyes and gave a serene nod, “That for many others, they understand they have a choice in the matter. Perhaps their talent is what brings them great joy, or perhaps,” Twilight Velvet lowered her snout and nuzzled Twilight Sparkle, “they can make the choice to try and find joy in something different.”

“Like you.”

“Right, like me.”

Mother and daughter both stared up at the night sky. A crescent moon waxed in the far left of their field of vision while all the other stars twinkled and the great white way of the night sky lay before them in its milky glory.

“Mom,” Twilight Sparkle said. “How did dad get his cutie mark?”

“That’s a question for him,” Twilight Velvet said.

“I did ask him, but he hasn’t told Shining or me about how he got his mark,” Twilight Sparkle turned to her mother. “He always avoids the question, also, since Shining has a giant star in the middle of his mark, does that mean I’ll get a giant moon in mine?”

“No,” Twilight Velvet said.

“But there are some families who have elements of their mark pass from parents to child,” Twilight Sparkle said.

“True, but you should know that it’s merely a rule of thumb. Not etched in stone,” Twilight Velvet said, “because if that were the case, wouldn’t we all come from the same cutie mark symbol at some point?”

“Oh,” Twilight Sparkle said.

“Again, sweetie, you shouldn’t put too much of your hopes and dreams in your mark,” Twilight Velvet smiled, “and besides, I need to show you flank paint at some point. You’d be surprised at how many ponies in the upper echelons hide their true mark from each other.”

“But, the sister at the temple said-”

“I know what she said,” Twilight Velvet answered. “But what you must understand is that just because they shouldn’t hide their cutie mark doesn’t mean they won’t. For many, having a pedestrian mark is a fate worse than death. Now, no more questions about cutie marks tonight. We need to talk about how you will conduct yourself at Shining’s tryouts tomorrow.”

In the depths of the forest.

In the darkest of groves.

Where nothing else grows.

There lays a corpse.

Of black feather and blue eyes.

It rests still in a puddle of blood.

And from the darkness steps forth a copy.

Taller, with scars on its face.

It lowers its head, and nudges the body.

Nothing happens.

And it lets out a piercing shrill, followed by three guttural squawks that echo throughout the forest.

From the darkness, more step forth.

Dozens on dozens of smaller, flightless birds.

Each one looking up to the tallest.

Each one with the eyes of midnight blue.

Once more, it lowers his head to the body.

It inhales, and shakes with each breath.

It clicks its beak twice, then stares at the only path in the woods where light shines.

It takes 13 steps forward, as any other prying eyes hide.

But all present know.

Mother is furious.

And so the hunt begins.

Author's Note

My god.
This took too long. I lost my deadline system.
I won't go into the details, but effectively several things happened over the last 6 months that has basically derailed me. I'll try to get back on track ASAP. But im transitioning from windows to linux due to microsoft finally breaking the camels back and Ive had to get accreditation for my job which was basically 4 months of study.

Right, thank you all for your patience. Hopefully another chapter by the end of August but given how things have gone, I don't want to promise something I can't deliver.