Gruppa Krovi

by The White devil

Rating: teen
Tags: Profanity, Slice of Life, Death, Human, Princess Luna, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Romance, Original Character
Length: 5502

Luna, lonely and depressed after the death of a beloved coltfriend, finds another person in a similar state as her. Maybe the two are fit for each other?

Three and half years after the rather grizzly suicide of Luna's beloved coltfriend and potential suitor. Almost a year after Celestia is abandoned by yet another potential friend. Several months after another friend's lover commits suicide and reminds Luna of her loneliness.

Luna isn't faring well with the anguish, darker thoughts are swirling around in her mind as the grief is starting to hit her like a pile driver.

It is early September now, and a certain young mixed-race man from the former Soviet Union has been dead for nearly a month. He isn't much better off than her. They share much in common, is he the one for her? Or will it just end like everyone else?

(The man may or may not be Viktor Tsoi. And I am definitely not putting this here for it to show up in the search bar, lol.)

Published 2022-08-17 04:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-08-18 07:05:13 UTC

The unlikeliest places.

Gruppa Krovi

The unlikeliest places.

'Today is rather cold,' The thought runs through Luna's mind as she steps onto the balcony. The frigid air of the early September morning strikes her like a blow-drier. She still is not used to such new technology, but she is improving.

The coldness of the rapidly dying summer only compounds her melancholia, she is alone. Well, except for her sister, and the six mares from ponyville. But other than that, she is alone. Some could say it is the loneliest era of her life, but at least she isn't trapped in the void of space anymore.

If she can describe this day with a few words. She would describe it as the Loneliest day of her life. Many tragedies have befallen the royal family and surrounding associates. And it has weighed down the family since.

Looking down at the streets below the castle, she can see ponies beginning to work and do their things. It's morning now, time to start the day and stop wallowing in self-pity. Take a shower and go to breakfast like everyo-, everypony. She still hasn't moved on from his way of speaking. She still lets the pain overcome her. She needs to stop wallowing in self-pity, but only if it were that easy.

She walks away from the balcony but looks at the sky one last time, her eyes glistening with tears that have started to well in her sockets. 'I'm sorry, Chris.'

Lonely.

That is what she feels as she sits down at the massive banquet hall. A banquet hall designed for at least five hundred peopl- ponies, ponies. Ponies or other local species, not him, he's gone, dead, suicide. She needs to let go, but if it's of any condolences, Twilight and her friends just lost another friend of theirs. A Russian, like Alexi, they were even friends at one point.

Alexi has been gone for months now, some say he got into that damned drug that has been raising hell in Equestria. Heroin, if only Charlie had not come along with her late coltfriend, then Alexi may not have run off to where every. Regardless, at least he isn't officially dead, but it nonetheless has badly hurt her sister. She is the one who found him, afterall.

The only ponies inside the banquet hall are Luna and her much more well-known sister, Celestia. Thankfully, the servants have prepared a special breakfast today. Nevertheless, an amazing meal to take her mind off of life, which she is grateful for God bestowing upon her. Even though hardly anypony believes in 'God', neither does she, just another saying that reminds her of him.

The meal is exquisite and simply divine, it's what Charlie would have called a full English breakfast. The two foreign dishes are remarkably similar, but filling, and adequate at distracting her from the pain.

A large plater made from fine china sits on the table before her. The meal on the plater consists of two sunny-side-up eggs, a modest portion of baked beans, two adequately sized sausage links, two pieces of bacon, two vines of twelve small roasted tomatoes, eight roasted mushrooms, and a bit of rosemary. A meal surely befitting of royalty, and one that'll be going through royalty rather soon.

The two mares remain silent through almost the entire breakfast, feasting on their respective platers of food. With Tia having a more American style breakfast, or what the cooks call 'modern Equestrian breakfast'. Hash browns, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and more bacon than Luna's. Other than that, the only difference is in each other's beverages. Luna's is coffee and Celestia's is tea.

The two mares finish their meals in record time, gluttony hijacking their brains with dopamine. The sweet, sweet five-second distraction from pain. If only there is another way to kill the pain, besides...

'Not now, please, not now.'

Yet her brain does not listen, and the thoughts come back, again.

It is a cold September morning, and the clocks are striking ten. He has to get to work soon, or else he won't have any way to make money. He needs money and this place is far from the Soviet Union. As horrible as it was living there, at least healthcare was 'technically' free. Though often you'd have to bribe your doctor to get decent care. Regardless, he needs to get to work soon.

Unfortunately, it seems like God has decided to resist his journey to work. As the streets are filled with numerous ponies today, and the buses are shut down. Meaning that he has to push through the crowds of ponies and volt over the obstacles. Barrels, crates, carts, and many other types of obstacles.

Ponies scream at him as pushes through them, 'wait your turn!' 'Get off me!' 'FUCK YOU!!' Things like that. He needs to get there, if he doesn't he won't have a job today, he'll be fucked simply put. He cannot wait, he has four minutes.

Adrenaline flows through his veins as he jumps over a fruit cart. The cart collides with a wall and spills apples and oranges everywhere. Ponies trip and fall over one another and get in his way, but he jumps past them. he needs to get there

Two minutes, and still a block away.

He manages to push over a stallion, thankfully the stallion doesn't get injured, but he still feels bad about it.

One and half minutes.

Someone decided to ride a giant manticore to the city today! Now everyone is losing it! Damn!

One minute!

He reaches the job site, an old building where he works as a wood carver. Carving chunks of wood into tool handles and toothbrushes for little pay. It's the only thing on his record worth a damn.

Lead singer in an incredibly influential foreign 80s band doesn't attract a lot of eyes here. Unlike wood carver, though that isn't as prized as everything else. He reaches to his belt to search for the keys, only to find that they are not there.

His heart nearly stops as he feels his belt once again, but nothing. 'Nothing? Nothing. Nyet!? NYET!?' He pats his pant pockets, his jacket pockets, checks his cheap work boots, but finds nothing. Which means that he is as good as fired.

'Great, great. Feel proud Viktor? Damnit...'

Viktor stands in the desolate alleyway, his blood boiling over as he starts to lose control. He is jobless, and without much money, a foreigner in a foreign land, where he can barely speak the language. His family is probably in another world, not that he even knows where he is exactly.

He could be in a coma right now and not know it, his son now fatherless, his wife a widow, his parents sonless. All because of that stupid fucking bus!

"Godamnit!" He yells, picking up a metal trash can and throwing it at the building's window. It's not like he'll get caught, no witnesses, and the police here are stretched thin already. Though he isn't worried, as he knows how to fight, and not many ponies have the balls to fight him.

Thankfully, Viktor is stopped by the sound of footsteps coming from behind him. He turns around and comes to encounter a familiar face, Vasiliy. "Privyet, Viktor, kag dillia?"

Viktor smiles a bit before responding, "I am fine, Vasiliy, a bit angry."

"I see, there is a broken window and broken trashcan," Vasiliy replies, "What caused you to destroy the window?"

Viktor dejectedly sighs, "I lost the keys to the place, meaning that we are locked out. And we cannot climb in through the bars in the windows."

"So, нас трахают?" Vasiliy asks.

"Da," Viktor answered.

The two men stand there for a moment, before Vasiliy speaks, "We should go home."

"That sounds like a good idea."

'The garden is rather tranquil this time of year,' She thought as she looks around at the garden. It is one of the few things that keep her from the deep end, that and the music he brought with him.

She sits there, contemplating everything, a rush of sadness and melancholia pours over her. She truly is alone in this world, sure, she has her sister, and those six mares, from that small town nearby.

But she needs someone, someone to lay beside every night. Somepony to tell her deepest and darkest secrets too... And lord knows, her sister is far from the best in that regard.

The loneliness is suffocating, it's like a crushing weight that keeps on getting heavier and heavier. And it won't stop, ever. If only he and his grandson had such vigor...

She really needs to let go, but if only it was that easy, to just let go. Let go of the ledge... no! Not again!

But why not? It's not like I'll find anyone anytime soon... Pretty much everybody seems to hate me, and I think, it is for the right reasons...

Looking to her right, she sees a pond, about forty feet deep, shocking for a pond. I could just, slowly swim to the very bottom... Tie a large rock to my chest, using plant fibers, as rope.

No pony, or no one, would ever really know. Nobody knows that I'm out here, either. Nobody is even allowed in this section. Bodies decay four times as fast in water as they do on land. I'd be contributing to something arguably greater than...

No, cease these thoughts!

But you know that it's true!

That you're trying to convince me to commit suicide!

You know that no one cares about your night... That Celestia can easily replace you, and very few would care.

I...

V-Vito i-is dead! Ra-ray-m-mmond is fucking dead! Christopher slit his own throat right in front of me!!

DON'T YOU SAY HIS FUCKING NAME YOU WHORE!!

Fuck you! You know that they're never coming back, you know it! Yet, you avoid death like the plague! Face it! The only ones that had ever really cared are now dead! Or are mass murderers, suffering from circular insanity!

He was my fucking lover!

And yet, you avoid him!

Because HE killed ME when I-...

JUST STOP!

The two men sat in their run-down apartment. Smoking cigarettes made from newspapers and cheap tobbaco, drinking cheap moonshine, while playing cards. It's about all that they can do, with what little money they have. Thankfully, Alexi and two other ponies with jobs live with them, or else they'd been screwed long ago.

"Vasiliy?" Viktor asks. "I'll stay," Vasiliy replies.

Viktor looks at his cards and sighs, "Hit me," he says. Vasiliy gives him a few cards, which unfortunately puts him over 21.

"Cyka."

"Over 21."

Viktor hesitates a bit, before sighing in defeat and laying his hand on the table. Vasiliy flashes him a shit-eating grin as he reveals his perfect deck that hits exactly 21.

"Damnit..." Viktor says. "Hand over your chips, Tsoi." Viktor complies and hands over his deck and the rest of his chips.

Vasiliy counts the chips, before grinning at the dejected Soviet pop star. "Well, looks like I won."

"No shit, you have all the chips." Viktor retorts sharply.

Vasiliy's shit-eating grin doubles in size as he smugly replies, "I know, I can rub the salt into your wounds."

Viktor glares at him slightly, clearly not amused. "Har har har."

Vasiliy takes another swig of a bottle of cheap moonshine, while Viktor goes to smoke another cigarette. Vasiliy stands up soon after he finishes the bottle and walks out of the room. Leaving Tsoi alone with his thoughts.

"Fuck, man. What time is it?" He mutters to no one in particular. He looks down at his watch, an antique watch from the early days of stalin. Another painful reminder of him being stranded in another land. 'What's going to happen to my wife and child?' He thinks.

But he doesn't dwell on that, not at this moment. Looking down at his watch, he checks the time. According to it, it's about six o'clock. 'Fuck! I need to be at the club at eight!'

Time to get ready.

Luna trots down the street towards the old, nearly derelict bar. It isn't a great place to hang out, but it is the cheapest place. And the funniest. So that counts, right?

Nevertheless, she continues on her 'merry' way towards the bar. Tonight is the night when they're reopening their stage and bringing in bands to perform. They say that Daul Sticks and DJ PON-3 will be here, as well as a foreign pop star. Which is... odd, as this isn't a major bar. There really shouldn't be two big-name celebrities and a foreign pop star, right here, at this time. In this part of the city either.

Thankfully, they didn't hike up the prices to maximize profit, so she didn't have to pay all that much. Hell, the alcohol will probably cost more than the tickets or monthly VIP pass fee combined! So, if there truly will be two big names and a foreign star. Then this will be a major win.

Luna pushes past the folks in line, using the permissions granted by the VIP pass as ample coverage. They can levy their anger at the owner of the bar, not her. She has things to do and places to be, and by that, she means getting shit-faced in a grimy old bar. And hoping that she doesn't get drugged, though, somepony would have to have balls of steel to do so.

The inside of the bar is what you would expect an alcoholic shithole to be; grimy, greasy, dirty, crowded, loud, very violent, full of tobacco smoke, and many types of alcoholics. Happy drunks, to violent drunks.

Not that she has to worry all that much, she's armed and well-known. Very few have the kahunas to fight her, or the alcohol tolerance. She forces her way to the front row, sitting down right in front of the stage. So that she can get the best view. After all, she's paying them enough already.

A small group of people walks onto the stage. She immediately recognizes DJ pone-3 as the pony with the keyboard. And Dual Sticks, A griffon with black and blue feathers, with golden talons, on the drums. But there is a human up there too, an attractive human. With messy medium-length hair, pronounced cheekbones, small almond eyes, and a black tracksuit.

"Hello, everyone." The human states as he stepped up to a microphone. "My name is Viktor Tsoi. Maybe one or two of you know me from an old band." He seems to dull a bit, a bitter and sad expression covers his face. But it is stomped out rather quickly.

"Regardless, we are going to sing a few songs tonight." He finishes his previous statement, before clearing his throat. "So without further a do, let's begin!"

The crowd cheer as the lights dim and smoke fills the messy club. A drowned-out noise similar to buzzing pierces the stuffy air, then drumming, then a smooth and sweet voice that drips on every note like honey.

"Teploe Mesto. No Ulici Zdut, Otpechatkov nashih nog." He sings slowly, strumming the guitar to the rhythm. Everypony calms down the cheering as he sings, as the song soothes them.

"Zvevdnaya pil' - na sapogah. Myagkoe kreslo, kletchaty pled. Ne nazhaty vovrenya kurok." He sings, the lyrics and the sounds intertwine, like two souls. At least, that's what she feels as she listens to him sing.

"Solnechy den' - v oslepitel'nykh snakh..."
The song trails off, as the chorus begins

"Gruppa Krovi - Na Rukave! Moy Poryadkovy Nomer - Na Rukave!" He starts off strong, stringing us along in a delightful foreign word salad, crafted by a skilled artisan in the realm of music.

He picks up the pace a bit, "Pozhelay mne udachi v Bayu, pozhelay mne: Ne ostat'sya v etoy trave! Ne ostat'sya v etoy trave!"

"Pozhelay mne udachi! Pozhelay - mne...!" He trails off again, leading us into a musical trap.

"Udachi!" He finishes the chorus with a bang, breaking the audience out of their trance at the lyrical masterpiece. And causing them to squeal with delight.

This is something that ponies have pretty much never seen before. To Luna, though, it is like when Luna and Celestia were first introduced to Mr. Zip-Zip-Zip as young fillies.

A moment that she will cherish for the rest of eternity. Watching him sing, she remembers a person from long ago. Someone, much closer to her, a younger man, a boy even. But that was a long time ago, no point in dwelling on it, she let go of that boy a long time ago.

Though, she still wants to meet this human in private. Mostly because she feels... Less lonely, around him. Like a hole in her heart has been mended. Thankfully, she has a VIP pass, courtesy of the club due to her status.

Maybe she will. Maybe she will.

The backstage of this place is pretty bad. The carpet is matted with dirt and grime, the lights are flickering on and off, the furniture is barren of anything except for a table and some uncomfortable chairs. And to top it all off, a fist almost broke out because some other band's lead singer got fried on whiskey.

Tonight's been a helluva night, that is for sure.

"I thought you said that this was going to be a fun night?" Viktor says, putting out his cigarette in a tin can. Because this place is too cheap to even have ashtrays.

"What are you talking about?" Vasiliy slurs as he slowly shifts towards Viktor.

Viktor rests his face in his hands and sighs deeply. "During our way here, you said that it was going to be fun. You said that there was nothing to worry about and that we would make some money."

"Instead, I got into a fucking argument with the asshole owner. Almost got into a fight. Got paid pissant amounts of money. And generally got fucked out of, well, almost everything except putting on a good show."

Vasiliy stands up, "Look I'm sorry but-"
A sudden knock on the door interrupts the two men.

"Come in!" Viktor shouts.

A rather tall, slender yet curvy, blue unicorn mare enters the backstage area. A gruff charcoal-colored cloak covers her body, cloaking any other distinguishing features behind a wall of coal.

Her eyes can be described as large teal orbs that match with her long night-themed mane. Speaking of her mane, it's one of the most distinguishing features besides the cloak and long horn. Her mane flows in a non-existent wind. White stars sparkle throughout the lengthy set of hair.

"Hello? Are you the man who played on stage?" The mare asks Viktor.

"Erm, Da-yes, I mean yes. Sorry, my English is not good."

The mare beams with joy as she practically hops towards Viktor.

"I saw you play! You're really good!" The mare says as she pulls up a chair right across from him. "Where did you learn how to play like that? And how to sing like that, too?"

"I was, part of a band, in my home country." Viktor stutters a bit, hesitancy lacing each word and stutter that leaves his mouth. Thankfully, she does not seem to care all that much.

"That is interesting." She replies.

"Yes, well, my band became rather popular throughout my home country. It caused the government to change too." Viktor says.

"Oh my! Where are my manners? My name is Luna, what is yours?" Luna asks, "Viktor, my name is Viktor Tsoi."

"Nice to meet you mister twoso!"

"That is not how my name is said" Viktor replies, "Oh? You mean pronounced?"

"Erm, yes, pronounced. It is not Twoso, it is Tsoi." Viktor corrects, "Tsoi. Got it. Thanks for the help."

"No problem, Luna," Viktor replies, pulling out a pack of belomorkanal cigarettes and a lighter. "I was only helping you. At no personal cost, either."

"I see." She says, watching the man light up a cheap-looking cigarette.

"I have never seen that brand of cigarettes before, what is It called?"

"беломорканал," Viktor answers, but his voice is slightly muffled by the thick tube of dried tobacco leaves in his mouth. Luna looks at the other man confused.

"Belomorkanal, it is a cheap brand of cigarettes from where we are from," Vasiliy says.

"Ah, I see, thank you...?" Luna asks. "Vasiliy, you may call me Vasiliy." That name sparked something within Luna's mind, but she shook it off.

"Thank you, mister Vasiliy," Luna says.
"You're welcome."

Her attention is grabbed when Viktor asks her a question. "So, Luna, why do you wear that heavy coat?"

"Oh! W-well, um, because I'm an important pony and I don't want to cause a scene by going somewhere." She answers.

Viktor slowly nods in understanding as he quickly finishes off his cigarette. "Well, Luna, it was great talking to you. But I have to go home now, I'm pretty tired from that performance." He says while standing up from the chair.

Her heart nearly stops for a second as he starts to walk out the door along with Vasiliy. "Wait!" Luna cries out causing Viktor to turn his attention to the mare, who happens to be galloping towards him.

She ruffles around her coat pockets and pulls out a piece of paper with a time, date, and address on it. "Please, if you can, I would like to see you again sometime."

Viktor hesitates momentarily, before giving in and pocketing the old piece of paper. "Fine. Now, Dosvedonya."

Luna watches as he quickly walks out of view. "Uh, yeah, hehe. Dosvedonia! Hehe."

She'll have to visit him later tonight.

Lady of the night.

Gruppa Krovi

Lady of the night.

Home sweet home, so they say. But there isn't anything sweet about this home.

Viktor is asleep, or at least, in the middle of sleeping. He has not dreamed of much in the past month, mostly flashbacks to that faithful day. The day that took his life away.

He is going fast down the highway, his car speeding down the asphalt. Like a bullet out of a rifle. His vision tunneling as the car keeps increasing in speed, then all of a sudden everything goes black. He can hear his car smash into a bus, and even feel himself perish while It happens.

The pain, the anxiety, the sorrow, all of it hits him like a freight train. The day when his place in the world was stripped away. In a brutal collision of metal and machinery, where only the bigger of the two will survive.

It has been haunting him since, being forever lost to your home, full of alien beings whom he has no relationship with. The only one here in a similar predicament is Vasiliy, who died during the war that ended two years ago. He and his friend Alexi came here, and even another followed. A person named Romanov.

The nightmare stops abruptly, everything fading into something else.

An endless pasture of vibrant green grass and flowers. Soft and gentle winds wash over him, full of soothing cool air that contrasts with the perfectly temperate sun. The fresh smell of rain ever lingers in this magnificent wind. For telling an era of lush greenery and bountiful food.

Viktor lays down on his back. The grass acts as a soft mattress, the sun a blanket, and the wind an air conditioner. He can live here in peace... Forever.

Soft feminine laughter rings through his ears, he cracks one eye open to see who has bothered him. Only for him to see the beautiful and ripe mare from last night. This time, not covered by a hefty cloak. Which allows him to see the pair of large wings on her back and sides.

"Get up, you goof." She teases him, "As much as I enjoy your company, I'd prefer to talk with you." Viktor slowly gets up from the ground, eventually reaching chest level.

"What do you want?" Viktor asks the slightly giddy mare, "I was trying to sleep on the soft grass."

"I want to speak with you," Luna answers matter-of-factly.

"We already spoke last night. I see you later, not now. You clearly aren't just here to talk to me." Viktor grumbles.

"Someone is a grouch~" She retorts snarkily.
Viktor huffs in frustration, "Yes, well, when you get woken up by a snarky unicorn. You aren't very happy."

"For one, I'm an alicorn. And number two, people wake me up all the time, yet I don't snap at them." Luna replies.

"Черт возьми, что угодно."

The two look away from each other and admire the natural beauty of the world before them. Neither has anything to say, well, until one clears their throat. "So..."

Viktor looks towards the direction the sound came from. Only to find the nightly mare standing there. Her body language asks for a reply, hell, begging for one even.

Viktor turns away and looks down briefly, before raising his head high. "So."

"What was that dream about?"

Viktor's breath is caught in his throat as his heart sinks to his stomach. Dread fills his bloodstream as the painful question is unraveled within his mind. Sorrow quickly replaces the fear and dread, as the deep-seated melancholy finally strikes.

Luna looks away as she can practically feel the pain radiating off of him, like radiation from a chunk of plutonium. And much like radiation, it hurts, and she knows how that feels. It is hell incarnate, the devil striking back for all that god has done. It is awful, so much so that death is a better alternative.

"I don't want to talk about it..." He says, his voice deep and hollow. Like a ghost. Haunting his very soul, like a burning metal stake to the chest.

Luna sighs, trotting up to the crushed human being, the pain becoming nearly unbearable for her. "Viktor... I know how you feel."

The man stays silent, looking down at the grass below him. The pain is now crushing, it is trying to make them cry, it is truly hellish to believe that god could make this be. She sits down next to him, draping a wing over his shoulder.

"It was a millennium ago. Trapped on a cold desolate rock, alone, in the vacuum of space, shrouded in pure darkness. The darkness of my soul." She laments, the pain rushing back as old wounds are torn open and heinously violated.

"The pain I put many beings through, because of my own inadequacies, the pain beings put me through. Many people and ponies who I cared about are now dead. All because of my naivety and innocence, I journeyed through the heart of darkness."

The two look into each other's eyes. He can see the honesty and the agony. She can see the regret and sorrow. They both have gone through pure hell over the years. Of course, one can argue that she has gone through worse, but this is not a sausage-measuring contest. "And I became the mare I am today."

Viktor looks forward, sighing heavily, "Before all of this, I had everything. A son, a wife, a group of friends, the adoration of an entire nation so large that it can qualify as a continent. Now, I have nothing. It is all gone."

"How did you lose it all?" Luna asks. "I collided with a bus at high speeds. The crash was so brutal, that they never found my body, that is if Vasiliy is to be believed."

Viktor sniffles a bit, his voice breaking slightly as the pain fucking stabs him in the chest. "I was just trying to go back home from a fishing trip." Tears fall down his face, as the waterfall breaks. But the mare catches him before he falls, hugging him with her wings. The dead and dejected star sobs heavily into the soft warm flesh surrounding him.

"Shhh... Relax, relax Viktor, everything will be fine." The voice pierces through his wall of pain. The stress and anxiety that befell him from the events that led to his displacement were numbed by her comfort.

"Everything will be fine..."

"This is the place," Luna says, removing Viktor's blindfold.

Viktor's vision returns quickly, and before him is a scenic place deep in the woods. Or, so he assumes. He does not know for sure that this is not all an illusion or if this place is not deep in the woods.

"You brought me to a forest?" Viktor asks confused.

"Of course, I wanted to have some peace and quiet with my friend," Luna replies, before suddenly dulling as a rush of anxiety crashes over her. "I-is it okay? I-i mean, I can always-"

"Don't worry, it is fine. I was just curious, you do not have to fret over me." Viktor interrupts her. He walks over to a long fallen tree trunk, overlooking a large river, and sits down on it. He looks back at her and motions for her to sit down next to him.

"Come, sit beside me," Viktor says, Luna quickly trots over and sits down right beside him. Just like he asked.

The two watch the crystal clear river flow downstream. Ogling the creatures in the scenic body of water as they go about their business. Nature, whenever it is not trying to maim or kill you, is very beautiful. A shame that nature on earth is rarely as beautiful, even long before the industrial era. Or even the rise of humanity in Eastern Africa.

"Viktor?" Luna breaks the silence. "Yes?" Viktor replies.

"How are you, my friend?" She asks the younger man sitting next to her.

"I am doing well, at least as well as I can be. How about you?" Viktor answers with a question of his own.

She sighs, "Things have not been going so smoothly."

"How so?"

Luna hesitates slightly but gives as she looks into the eyes of the person she secretly desires. "Me and my sister, are not on the best of terms, as of recent. We had a large argument in the garden."

Viktor slyly smiles a bit, "Well, do not fret over it. Everyone has small quarrels from time to time. It is the nature of being a sentient creature."

"Yes, well, I already know that. It is a fact I accepted thousands of years ago, but this one was different." Luna retorts. "Well, what makes this one differ from the rest?" Viktor implores.

"It almost caused a fight. A big fight. One that may have even caused a civil war if it became big enough." Luna answers trepidly, "I see."

"I'm sure you can fix it, you have gone through a lot," Viktor says. "I doubt this will permanently affect you."

Luna smiles, "Your Ponish is getting better."

Viktor smiles back, "Thank you, it has been hard but thankfully the language is not too far off from English.

The two sat in silence for quite some time. Both are content with sitting silently and watching the river flow, life traveling through the cool waters like a highway at rush hour.

It reminds him of home, partly, it reminds him of the pain that is being stripped away from everything you knew. And then being dropped in an alien land with a lackluster understanding of the language. But the pain is dulled by her, someone who has been by his side since they first met.

Viktor is snapped back into reality by the sound of his female companion clearing her throat. "Viktor?" Luna asks.

Viktor turns and faces her. "Yes?"

He can see the anxiety on her blueberry features. Her blueberry face is hidden by her mane, hiding a thick crimson layering on her face that is a clear sign of attraction. Her eyes seem to avoid his, instead looking down out of fear of something. Rejection, perhaps?

"I care deeply for you, you've made me feel like no one else has made me feel in well over a thousand years." She trails off, tapping her hooves together as the words quietly tamper off into a thick word salad.

Clearly, she isn't being entirely upfront, is she...?

"I want to say that I... love you."

Viktor does not make a sound, still as a statue in the face of something utterly shocking. He turns around to face the lady of the night, instead of some confident mistress. He sees a much smaller mare, with a scrunched-up muzzle and a thick layer of crimson on her face. Her eyes looking down at the floor while her front hooves are pressed together.

He cannot lie and say that he does not reciprocate her feelings, but it is very shocking nonetheless.

He can only find one thing to say in response.

"I love you too."