Fluttershy's Nature Show, Season Two

"Isn't this just so exciting?" claps Twilight. "After all the setup, it's finally here!"

"You're certainly in a good mood," notes Fluttershy.

"How could I not be? How could you not be? This is amazing! Where's your jubilation? Why aren't you celebrating?"

Fluttershy shifts in her seat. "I wonder if the camera is a bad idea this time. I mean, actually doing the show right now seems a bit... premature."

"Fluttershy, this is a brand-new, undiscovered species. Nopony knows what's going to come of this. The camera has never been so important as right now. We only have photographs to look at right now. Video evidence of this creature doesn't exist yet."

"Yeah, but... How am I supposed to present this? I don't know anything about these creatures. How am I supposed to tell everypony what they eat and how their social structure is designed if I don't know, myself?"

"You call it a special episode and we all find out together, that's how."

Fluttershy lowers her head. "I just don't know if I'm going to be very helpful for this one..."

"Of course you will. You know more about animals than anypony I've ever met. You know even more than I do, and that's saying a lot."

The train comes to a stop, and they disembark to a very large white building with a lot of security. There's a small office at the front, and Fluttershy and Twilight are given visitor badges and an armed escort.

"All of this security for an animal?" asks Fluttershy as they walk down the halls.

"No, no," corrects Twilight, keeping her camera covered after a few steps. "There's a lot of top-secret stuff in here, including this new, undiscovered species. I've been hard at work organising your security clearance. It took a week just to bring me in here. The camera was a hard "no" until Princesses Celestia and Luna vouched for me in that I wasn't an enemy spy. We're not allowed to film anything else, we're not allowed to go into any rooms other than the few designated on our badges... We're not even allowed to go to the toilets without an escort."

"I don't know if I want that kind of pressure..."

"A lot of ponies would kill for this opportunity."

"Oh, I don't want to kill anypony..."

"Well, it's a good thing that your entry is predicated on paperwork, huh?"

A door squeaks open loudly, and the camera lens is uncovered as a soft mechanical whirring hums. "You must be Princess Twilight," says a new voice.

"No, that's me," says Twilight, moving the camera up to see a pony in a white labcoat with red stains firmly grasping Fluttershy's hand and forearm, shaking them vigorously. "I'd shake your hand, but I need to not drop my equipment."

"Then you must be Fluttershy," he answers, shaking her whole arm again. "I hear you're an expert on animals."

Fluttershy blushes. "I don't know if I'm an expert, but..."

"She's just being modest," assured Twilight. "She's very good at what she does. Now, we're led to believe that you have a new animal to show us?"

"Six, actually," states the scientist, walking over to a window. "Come, have a look."

As the two approach the window, the camera shows a very large room with stone walls and a stone floor. In the center of the room is a torn-apart steel shipping crate. Rather, one end of it has been torn apart, while the rest seems to be only battered and moderately chewed.

"So, they're all inside the crate right now. We believe that they're all the same species, but with distinct patterns and sizes, we wonder if perhaps it's just a matter of breed. Like dogs, for instance."

Fluttershy nods. "That makes sense. Although, if you're not sure of that, it's not exactly easy to keep dogs sufficiently diverse if the only breeds you can choose from are chihuahua and great dane."

"True, but these seem, upon initial observation, closer in comparison between retriever and labrador. Except way more violent."

"Like a pit bull?" offers Twilight.

The scientist grabs a photograph off of his desk of him holding a smiling, full-size pit bull terrier wearing a fluffy reindeer-themed sweater. "If these things were as vicious as my pit bull, we could sell them as pets."

"It's all in the training," agrees Fluttershy. "So, do we have to go down there to see them, or...?"

"We've been feeding them different things. They keep vomiting it up, but otherwise, it doesn't seem to make them sick. It's just about time to feed them, actually." He pushes a small button on the wall-mounted intercom. "Ground team, feed the skags."

"Skags?" asks Fluttershy.

"It's what the couriers called them," he answers. "Apparently, that's the name given to them by the locals. Personally, I liked the suggestion of "kath hounds," which was suggested by Paper Clip up in PR, but that's when they didn't already have a name. They don't have a scientific designation, though, so our plan is to repurpose the suggestion into that."

There's a loud klunk as a few steel cans are tossed into the enclosure and the door closes. The camera, as well as Fluttershy, look down into the room as a creature walks into view.

The comparison to a dog is not entirely incorrect. The basic body shape of the creature is not dissimilar to that of a large, muscular canine. However, where a typical dog has eighteen toes, this creature had only fourteen; four on the front legs, three on the back. They were short, stubby toes, but capped with massive claws. The index claw on either front paw were larger and curved down to the ground. On the elbows, hips, and shoulders, large, keratinous spikes protruded outward. On its knees, chest, spine, shoulders, face and front paws, heavy and thick-looking skin plates slid across each other. And at the back of its ribs, three holes opened up and closed in sequence, as if it were breathing through them.

Its head looked initially like it was made up of two vertical disks of skin that were pressed together. In the center of each disk was its eye, red in this case, and when it spotted its food, it crouched down, opened its mouth, and let out a warbling roar. Its mouth opened vertically at first, splitting its whole face down the center and opening wide, showing its lower jaw, which was tucked up under its other two jaws.

As it runs out and crushes the can in its jaws, eating the can and its contents with ease, two more come out, all looking a little bit different.

"Ladies," chuckles the scientist, "meet the skags."