There were a lot of weird things about this particular town, I noticed as I stalked through its streets under cover of darkness. The others I'd seen were fairly plain, colorful but otherwise uniform, hewing to a standard of two-story thatched-roof cottages for homes and fully wooden buildings for stores and other types of buildings. And a lot of this town seemed to be the same... but some of it was really different. Like the relatively enormous, three-story tower in the center of the place that seemed to be a town hall, if one designed by an architect with an unhealthy fixation with Renaissance-faire adornment. Or the building that looked literally like a gingerbread house, though a quick check out of curiosity showed that it was just cleverly-painted regular building materials. Or what had to be a clothing store fashioned like a carousel plucked out of a really frilly carnival.

But what took the cake was the library set inside a tree- somehow, these ponies had either found or grown a tree that had the dimensions of a three-story home, then hollowed out the inside, set a bunch of shelves on the first floor, and put all sorts of balconies up on the higher branches. Is that a telescope up there? I wondered.

And damn it all, I wanted to do nothing more than stand there and stare. I wanted to grab the nearest pony by the shoulders and get them to tell me just how the hell they'd done that. But the poster I'd seen half an hour ago pretty much eliminated any hope for that little scenario- the one I spotted on what seemed to be a town notice board, tacked over a few other faded papers, bearing an uncomfortably good approximation of my appearance. Of course, I took it down, shredded it and shoved it into the most remote garbage can I could find- but if there was one, there'd be others.

And of course, I had to go and worry myself sick about just what the poster said. Was there a reward out for me? Did it say “kill this monster on sight”, “call the guards when seen”, or “offer a cookie and some milk”? What I wouldn't have given just to know what exactly my status was with the authorities. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hope to keep up this on-the-run lifestyle, and- if I was being completely honest with myself- turning myself in was starting to look sort of appealing if it meant “three hots and a cot”. I wasn't John Rambo, able to live in the jungle with nothing but a combat knife and two feet of string; just making it this far had required stretching my meager survivalist skills to the limit, and while my body was handling the situation amazingly well, my mental fortitude was beginning to fray under the prospect of even more nights spent lurking around, fearful of being seen.

Of course, that went out the window if being captured meant a lifetime spent in a jail cell somewhere, or worse still, execution. I wasn't taking these little candy-colored equines at face value- they seemed peaceable enough, at least amongst themselves, but I had firsthand experience with at least a few of their number being less gracious towards others. Whoever ran the show in this place could be on either end of the scale.

I let out a quiet sigh to myself as I looked to the east and saw the slightest bit of light tinting the nighttime clouds. Since I apparently couldn't even depend on the sun to keep a regular schedule, I decided to head out of town early, rather than risk a close encounter of the pony kind. I'd just have to forego dinner and hopefully find something to eat next evening.

Or maybe not, I amended, as I hit the edge of town. A bit further out was an orchard of some sort, acre upon acre of orderly- and obviously well-tended- trees. Apple trees, I discovered as I approached. There's got to be tens of thousands of apples here, I told myself as I skirted the edge of the orchard. They won't notice if I snag a few.

I was so absolutely sure of that assumption that I was completely taken by surprise when a light snapped on in the building at the center of the orchard just as I'd tugged down a third low-hanging apple. I slammed my back against the tree, swearing I could feel the eyes of something searching, the apples in my arms suddenly a trio of One Rings beneath the gaze of Sauron.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding when that feeling of being watched faded, and after a moment the light in the window went out. Still, I couldn't get out of the area fast enough with my ill-gotten fruits, finding a nice copse of trees a quarter-mile out- one of which was hollowed-out enough at the bottom for me to use as a makeshift shelter. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, and I was probably going to wake up pretty sore from sleeping with my legs tucked up against my chest, but it was better than being out in the open.

Three apple cores found themselves tossed a good distance away from my little hideaway before I settled myself in, well-hidden from the light of the approaching dawn.

(-)

“Good morning, Applejack!” Rarity looked up from her peach cobbler to see the farmpony walk into Sugarcube Corner. “You're almost never here in the morning!” Pinkie continued, even as she loaded a tray into the oven. “Usually you're out on the farm around now.”

“Mornin', Pinkie! Yeah, Big Mac an' I did a little reworkin' of our schedules t' give ourselves a day off once in a while.” AJ walked up to Rarity's stall, hung her hat on the little hook on the seat post, then slid onto the seat opposite her. “Mornin', Rarity,” she said.

“Good morning to you, Applejack! A rare pleasure to see you out and about this hour, indeed. I trust things are well at Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Sure are, sugarcube, and I reckon I've got you to thank fer part of it.” The orange mare gave her a grateful smile. “You helpin' us refinance the farm's debts really took a lot of weight offa our backs.”

“Well, darling, I'm not unfamiliar with creditors myself. There's no shame in using a few 'tricks of the trade', as it were, to... hmm... 'wrassle up' a better deal for yourself.”

Applejack chuckled at the attempt at a homily. “Well, we're all right grateful to ya. Now, I'd like t' pay ya back somehow-” she waved a hoof at the objection welling up in Rarity's throat- “now, now, I know you'd like t' refuse, but honest, all th' family wants t' do somethin' by way of thanks.” She seemed to think for a moment. “Say, y' got that show a' yers two weeks from now, right?”

“Err... yes,” she said uncertainly, somewhat hesitant to see what Applejack might have planned. “The one in Manehattan.”

“Right, gotcha.” The cowpony considered. “Well, sure as sugar I ain't gonna try an' recommend stuff fer fashion; we both know I ain't got the eye fer it. But, I mean, if'n you'd like to take some of our cookin' with ya, or mebbe a carvin' or two from Apple Bloom? I'm sure she'd love to give ya a few 'a her applewood carvin's fer yer show.”

“Well... hmm.” There was no question about it in Rarity's mind; the young mare's carvings really were beautiful. There are a couple of outfits that could benefit from something so simple yet elegant, especially if I were to inlay a few small gems... ooooh, idea! “Actually, Applejack, that might be a tremendous idea! I'll need to speak with Apple Bloom about some designs she might be able to make happen.”

“Oh, I bet she'd be pleased as punch t' lend a hoof! She oughta be home most 'a th' day, so any time y' wanna mosey on over, feel free.”

“Delightful! I'll have to do just that after breakfast.” Rarity turned the page of her newspaper, bringing her teacup to her lips as she read the fashion section. Applejack went quiet for a moment. “Huh,” she said finally.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, jes' readin' yer paper here. Says somethin' 'bout that weird critter they put up them posters about.”

“Oh yes, the, erm... 'Everfree Yeti', they call it?” Rarity separated the page and folded it over, laying it flat sideways so that they could both read it. “Goodness! It says here that the creature attacked a filly over in Broncton? How horrible!”

“That ain't what I heard.” Applejack frowned. “I jes' talked t' Roseluck an' she says she heard from her aunt Rosepetal that the critter done saved somepony.”

“Applejack, with all due respect to Roseluck's relatives, I'm more inclined to believe the press.”

“Ain't you had enough problems with th' press t' know better, Rares?”

Rarity stared up at her friend for a moment, then sighed. “...alright, you have a point. But still. You read what that poster said- 'potentially dangerous; do not approach'!” She paused for a moment, then felt fear go down her spine as realization struck. “Applejack... Broncton is just half a day's gallop away! What if that creature comes here?!”

“Rarity, what makes ya think that this 'Everfree Yeti' is gonna come here, of all places?”

“Because Ponyville is a nexus of weirdness that seems to attract every last strange occurrence possible?”

Applejack stared at her for a moment. “Okay, y' gotta point. An' now I'm gettin' worried about Big Mac tellin' me he thought he heard somethin' out in the orchards this mornin'.” She looked down at the table. “Wha'... whaddya think we oughta do?”

“I don't honestly know! If only Twilight were in town; we could ask her.”

“Huh. Um....” The cowpony seemed to consider. “Well, we could ask Spike to shoot 'er a letter. If'n she can't stop by, at least she kin write back with some suggestions.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, Applejack. Let's head to the library now.”

It was a short trot to Books & Branches, and inside they found Spike lounging at the desk, reading a comic book; he looked up at their approach. “Oh, uh... hi, girls!” he said, quickly stowing the comic in a desk drawer. “What can I do for you?”

Applejack chuckled. “Slow day?” she drawled.

“Heh, yeah, without Twilight constantly taking books out of the shelves, cleanup usually just means keeping dust off of things.”

“Well, Spike, speaking of Twilight.” She gave the young dragon her best smile. “We really would like to talk to her about a few things. Could we persuade you to send her a letter?”

“Oh! Um.” She could see him considering. “Err, yeah, but it has to be for something important. Twilight's orders- she's been pretty busy lately dealing with something.”

“Entirely understandable; a Princess's duties are many, I'm sure.” She showed Spike the newspaper article Applejack had spotted. “But, darling, we're a little worried about this 'Everfree Yeti' creature, and what we should do if we spot it here in Ponyville. It seems that there's a lot of conflicting information going around.”

“Yeah, she ain't kiddin,” Applejack said.

“Well... okay. You know I can't say 'no' to you, Rarity.” He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but return it- the little fellow still had that crush on her, even though their relationship was still entirely platonic. “Lemme go ahead and write up something real quick to send to her.”

It only took the little dragon a couple of minutes to write out a request for information and send it away. Rarity was just about to thank him for his time when a bell- different from the door chime- sounded off twice; Spike looked over to a secluded corner of the library, where a small section had been roped off. “Wow, that was quick,” he said.

“What was-” Rarity fell silent as a bright purple flash appeared behind the ropes; when her vision had cleared, she saw Twilight herself trotting out towards them. “Oh, hi girls,” she said with a broad smile. “It's great to see you again.”

“Jeez, Twi,” Applejack chuckled. “That was one fast response to our letter.”

“What let-” Suddenly the alicorn's horn flared, and the very letter Spike had sent appeared before her; she unrolled it and gave it a quick look. “This letter?” she chuckled.

“That would be the one, yes.” Rarity giggled. “So if not for us, then what does bring you to town today, Twilight?”

“Well, it's something similar. I'm kind of in a rush, though, so would you two like to come with me?”

“Certainly.” “Sure thing.” With that, Twilight went over to give Spike a hug and nuzzle, eagerly returned by the young dragon, before leading her two friends out of the library. “So, Twi,” Applejack said. “That bell we heard... what was that all about?”

“Oh, just a little precautionary device I devised for when I need to teleport to Ponyville. Just so ponies don't have to go diving out of the way or anything.” She smiled for a moment before becoming serious. “So you two have been hearing of this creature too?”

“It seems like almost everypony has by now, Twilight.” Rarity let out a quiet sigh. “We're just not quite certain what to believe, or what to do.”

“Well, that's why I'm here.” The trio approached the town hall. “I've heard about the incident in Broncton. I came to talk to the Mayor about what should, and shouldn't, be done in case somepony encounters the creature.” She let out a soft sigh, and Rarity could swear she just barely heard the words “because ponies apparently can't read posters” muttered by her friend.

The talk with the Mayor itself was fairly brief and to-the-point, and sounded practiced enough to where Rarity figured Twilight had either rehearsed it extensively, or that this was far from the first time she'd had to go through this. Rarity made sure to listen carefully to everything she had to say, though, and Applejack was plainly doing the same. It was only a few minutes later when the trio left the hall, and Rarity for one felt quite a bit better with the extra information at her disposal- especially the knowledge that there would be increased guard patrols and pegasus flybys.

“So, Twi,” Applejack said. “I been thinkin' 'bout how you mighta gotten mixed up in all this. Last I knew, you was workin' on that weird carriage we found out in the Everfree, and then this yeti done come along. I'm guessin' they're connected?”

Twilight sighed. “I wish everypony would stop calling him that. He's not a yeti.”

“Oh, um... sorry, Twilight. That's jes what I been hearin' everypony call 'im. But if he ain't a yeti, what is he?”

“I... don't know yet. I only know that he's probably alone, probably frightened, and potentially dangerous- especially if ponies do what they did in Broncton.” She sighed and shook her head, her face betraying just the traces of exhaust and distress- almost invisible even to Rarity's trained eye. “But I need a favor from you two.”

Rarity smiled reassuringly “Of course, darling. Simply name it.”

“I have to head back to Canterlot; I have a lot on my withers right now. If the two of you could tell others what I've said, spread the word, you'd really be helping to make things easier on me.”

Applejack nodded. “Well, shoot, Twi, that sounds like the right thing t' do anyway. Sure we'll do it.”

“Absolutely,” Rarity agreed. “You go ahead, Twilight, and do what needs be done. We'll do our part here.”

A wide smile spread across Twilight's face, and she reached out to hug both of the other mares. “Thanks, girls,” she said. “I can't tell you how much this means to me. I'll try to drop by more often so that we can catch up.”

“You should definitely do so, darling.” Rarity patted her shoulder lightly. “You look as though you could stand to spend more time on yourself.”

“You don't know the half of it.” Twilight shook her head. “But complaining about it won't get anything done. Take care, you two. I'll be in touch!”

With another brief smile, the alicorn vanished in a burst of purple light. Applejack looked over at Rarity. “Well, Rares,” she said, “we were headin' out towards Sweet Apple Acres anyway... what say we go ahead, and tell mah kin what we heard today afore you talk to Apple Bloom about those carvin's?”

“That's an excellent idea, Applejack. And then perhaps we should talk to the rest of the girls, and see if we can let other Ponyvillians know what should be done.”

“Also a good idea! C'mon, let's get movin'.” With that, the two mares cantered off towards the apple trees just visible past the edge of Ponyville.

(-)

“Wisk?”

Silver Wisk lifted her head off of the table, quickly wiping at her eyes with her fetlock before turning. “Oh... hey, Wheelie,” she said quietly.

The concern on the young stallion's face was plain to see. “Are you okay, Wisk?” he asked.

“Yeah... yeah. I'm just thinking, sweetie.”

“At two-thirty in the morning?”

She let out a quiet sigh. “Okay, Wheelie, you got me. I can't sleep.”

“Yeah, me neither.” He sat down next to her, looking out the same window she had been, which framed the descending moon perfectly. “I've been having nightmares ever since... then, you know?” he said quietly.

“So've I.” Wisk laid her head on her forelegs. “I honestly can't tell if it's Luna punishing me with these nightmares... or myself.”

Both of them fell silent for a moment before Wheel spoke again. “Wisk?”

“Hmm?”

“Are we bad ponies?”

“I... I think you've asked me that before, Wheelie.”

“I know, but....” The stallion let out a sigh. “I never thought of what we were doing as 'bad', but... when I think about it... I don't think I ever thought about it.”

“...you've lost me, sweetie.”

“I mean... ugh. I can't talk right when I'm this tired.” He rubbed at his head with his forehooves. “Wisk, when we were working for Big Top, did you ever stop and think about what we were doing to all those animals in those cages?”

“Well, of course I did! I had to feed them, keep them healthy!”

“I don't mean that.” The stallion looked down at the table. “Why were we helping Top, Wisk? We saw what he did to the animals, to Sveti... to Cobalt....” He shook his head. “Why didn't we leave, or call the Royal Guard on him? Why did we help him? Princess Twilight called us 'monstrous', and the more I think about it the more I think she was right.” He gazed up into her eyes with a look so reproachful that she wanted to just hug him right there. “What if it had been us in those cages, Wisk? And why did we never think about that?”

“Wheel, you know how Top was-”

“Are we gonna keep blaming him? He didn't hypnotize us, Wisk... maybe he knew how to keep us in line, but you were getting ready to leave when... all that happened, weren't you? We... we didn't have chains on our necks.”

Wisk stared at him for a moment, then turned away slowly, letting her shoulders slump. “Well, thanks, Wheelie,” she murmured. “You made me feel even worse than I did before you got here.”

His eyes went wide, then watery. “I- I'm sorry, Wisk. I didn't mean to. I just....” He sighed and scuffed a hoof against the table. “I can't even look at myself in the mirror anymore,” he murmured. “I keep wondering, what if I'd never gone off with Top as his assistant? Maybe he would've never gotten his show off the ground. Maybe Cobalt would still be alive, maybe Sveti would've never seen the inside of that cage, and maybe we never would've even seen that yeti, or whatever he is.”

She frowned at him. “You can't put all this on your back, Wheel.”

“I know, but....” He looked at her again, his expression utterly lost. “I just feel so horrible now, Wisk. Sometimes I start thinking... maybe the world would be a better place if I wasn't in it, you know?”

She immediately wrapped her forelegs around his neck, hugging him against her tightly. “Don't you even think that!” she scolded him. “Wheelie... okay. We did wrong. What we did caused a lot of pain to others. It's hard to accept that. But... but what you said, that ain't the way to fix it. All it would do is throw more pain into the whole mix, and leave a big, Farris Wheel-shaped hole in the world. And that wouldn't help anything, Wheelie.” She leaned back to look him straight in the eyes. “I don't want to be a bad pony either,” she told him. “But the only way to not be a bad pony is to be a good one. And there's a lot of work we've got to do before we get there.” She let him go, looking away. “And you know what, Wheelie? I ain't sure I can do it all myself. I'm just... I'm feeling those forty years right now, believe you me. I think I need your help to make it through this.”

“...you do?” His expression seemed somewhere between confused and upset. “Wisk, I....”

They both sat there quietly for a few moments, before Wisk let out a soft sigh. “Sweetie, we had better try to at least get a little sack time,” she told him. “It's probably going to be another busy day tomorrow, and it'll only be harder if we're half-asleep.” She patted his withers. “Sleep well.”

“Y... yeah. G'night, Wisk.”

“Night, sweetie.” She watched him walk out of the room before slowly getting to her hooves. As she approached the door, she paused for a moment, feeling the weirdest sensation of being watched- but a glance over her shoulder showed nopony else nearby. She shook her head. Time for bed, Wisk, she told herself. You're not the little filly who can stay up all night anymore.

With another, more exhausted sigh, she left the apparently empty room.

(-)

Sveti fanned her wings out a couple of times before folding them against her sides. Is it colder than usual up here, she wondered as she walked down the street, or was I just at ground level for so long that I got used to the warmer temperatures?

She only entertained that line of thought for a moment as she walked through the streets of Canterlot. It had taken her seemingly forever to get here; her under-exercised wings couldn't handle any sort of long-distance flight, and she had no money for any sort of paid transport, so she'd had to rely on walking and catching rides with whatever carts or other transports being pulled by sympathetic ponies she happened across. And without her government-issued papers she'd even had to go through the typical rigamarole for non-citizens visiting the city, which had eaten up even more of both her time and her patience.

But now, finally, after most of a week of travel, here she was, back in familiar territory. As stupid as it felt, she almost wanted to hug every last passing pony out of sheer relief at being free again- but she kept her composure, even if she couldn't keep herself from jogging out of a fervent desire to see “home” again.

Her good spirits lasted for as long as it took her to turn the corner onto Dressage Avenue and see the embassy... and its darkened windows, padlocked door and “Closed Until Further Notice” sign mounted on a holder in front of the steps.

“...what the pluck...?” she breathed, immediately sprinting up to the building. The Griffin Empire Embassy was supposed to be open every hour of the day, every day of the week, even if only a skeleton staff was on duty. “Is this a joke?” she murmured, even as she noted the dust on the padlock; it had obviously been there a while.

“Um... miss? Do you need help with something?”

She whirled on the spot to see one of Luna's Night Guard behind her. The bat-winged pony gazed at her with eyes as yellow as her own- a weird sight to her on a pony. “Miss,” the mare said, “if you need help, the Equestrian Civil Services building handles the functions of the Embassy for now.”

“But....” Sveti glanced between the guard and the building. “What... what happened? Why is it closed?”

“The Griffin Empire recalled the remainder of the staff in June until a new ambassador is selected.”

“A new ambassador...?” Sveti felt her blood turn cold. “What happened? Where's my father?!”

“Your father...?” The guard frowned. “Are you claiming that you're Arnfrodr Windwhisper's daughter?”

She glared at the mare. “I am Sveti Windwhisper!”

A peculiar look crossed the guard's face for a moment, maybe just an instantaneous show of pity, before her expression went neutral. “Miss, perhaps you should come with me,” she said, in a tone that left no doubt about it being an order rather than a request.

She'd been in Canterlot long enough to know that the Royal Guard- especially Luna's Night Watch- did not react well to bickering or arguing, so she fell in line behind the mare, doing her best to quell the growing sense of uneasiness inside of her. Still, it felt like forever before Sveti found herself being led to what looked like one of the Guard's barracks, then inside and to a small office. The guard had her wait outside a door with “Night Watch Lead: Lt. Silver Lining” stenciled on the window, and the griffin had to wait while the mare went inside and had a short conversation with whoever was inside.

Finally, the guard returned and motioned for Sveti to go inside, and she did so, hearing the mare's hoofbeats against the floor until the door closed. Inside the room, seated behind a heavy-looking oaken desk, was another of the bat-looking ponies, this one with bright silver eyes partially hidden by spectacles. The mare motioned towards a large, worn-looking couch with a forehoof. “Please, have a seat,” she said.

Sveti complied. “What is this about?” she asked, careful to not sound demanding; she'd picked up enough tips on being diplomatic from her father to know better.

“Sveti Windwhisper was declared missing four months ago. Now we have somepo- err, someone claiming to be her. Do you have identification proving this to be the case?”

“No, I'm afraid I don't. My papers were... lost.” As much as she wanted to tell the Guard everything that had happened to her, her father had always insisted that she run any issue by him first.

“Well. We do have a dossier on Miss Windwhisper....” Lt. Lining left her chair and trotted across the room towards a veritable wall of filing cabinets; none of them were labeled, but the mare seemed to know just which one she needed, opening a drawer and almost immediately pulling out a thick folder, which she brought back to her desk, opened and peered into for a moment. “Alright, miss,” she said. “I'll need you to answer three questions for me.”

Sveti fought to hold back a sigh of irritation; this was just part of the mare's job. “Okay.”

“One. What is your middle name?”

“Abigael.”

“Two. Your birthdate?”

“Equestrian calendar, or Griffinic?”

“Equestrian will do.”

“April 27th, 981.”

“And three. Fish or chips?”

“I'm a griffin. It's always fish.”

Apparently satisfied that the codephrase had been answered correctly, the Lieutenant closed the dossier and laid it on her desk. “Alright, then, Miss Windwhisper, perhaps you could tell me-”

Sveti couldn't hold back her impatience any longer. “Lieutenant, what happened to my father?” she demanded. “Why is the embassy closed?”

To her credit, the officer didn't look the least bit nonplussed at the outburst. “Very well,” she said quietly. “Miss Windwhisper... I regret to inform you that your father, Arnfrodr Windwhisper, Ambassador to Equestria from the Griffin Empire... died on the date of July 16th of this year.”

She felt her beak working, but no words would come out; her throat was almost too tight for her to breathe. “He... he....” she managed to choke out. “How...?”

The dark-coated mare allowed a little sympathy to break through her neutral expression. “A fall from a high altitude. A magical scan showed no poisons or alcohol in his system, and his wings were in perfect condition... I'm afraid it was ruled a suicide.”

“No, no, it couldn't... this can't....” Sveti was barely aware of her talons tearing into the fabric of the couch beneath her, or the manic twitching of her tail.

“Miss Windwhisper... where were you when this happened?”

The mare's words drilled through the haze of disbelief and pain inside Sveti's mind. Big Top, she thought, a cold rage spilling through her. This is his fault. He let me rot in that cage for more than two months while my father was dead! If I had been here, I could have stopped Dad from... from...!

Faster than even she thought she could move, she was through the Lieutenant's door, ignoring the mare's calls for her to stop, speeding past ponies as she made for the front entrance, one thought on her mind: To find that damnable unicorn, tear his entrails out and make him watch as she ate them. Finally she was outside, under the cold black skies, and with a mighty leap she soared towards them, wings spread, pumping against the air-

-and then she let out a shrill cry of pain as her right wing spasmed, her sudden demands on it too much for it to handle, and she slammed into the ground a moment later.

And that was where Lieutenant Silver Lining found her a few minutes later, crumpled in a heap, weeping silently into the cobblestone road. Sveti didn't even look up as she heard the guard's hooves clop their way up to her. “Miss Windwhisper,” came a voice far gentler than the one she'd heard in the office, “perhaps you should tell me what happened.”

She felt a foreleg carefully curl under her neck, helping her to her paws, and then a leathery wing drape itself over her back comfortingly. She couldn't help but lean against the pony for support as the both of them walked back towards the barracks.

(-)

The Astral Plane spread before Luna's gaze, silvery streams of thought and consciousness twisting through darkness as deep as the Void itself, speeding past her as fast as light. As far as her "eye" could see, threads made of every color of the rainbow- and some that simply could not exist in the material world- spun and wound their way across the blank vastness around her- and yet she knew that what she “saw”, as beautiful as it was, was merely her mind's interpretation of what was here, its attempt to give form to the formless, substance to the ethereal.

She wished to move, and her astral projection flared its translucent wings, sending her streaking through the darkness. Countless minds passed hers, some of them those of her ponies, and many not- but she ignored them all, her attention fixed ahead of her, following the thinnest trail of mental energy towards her target. Her hunch had proven correct after all- despite the reports from the "sideshow" workers stating that the creature had kept a diurnal sleep cycle, after its escape it had apparently shifted its habits to travel at night and sleep through the morning. Fortunate enough for the Princess of the Moon; this allowed her to devote the majority of her attention to the task at hoof, even as she slept herself.

She had no idea how long it was she spent tracking her quarry; time had no meaning in this place- five minutes could seem to be a year, and vice-versa. She trusted her physical body to wake her if something needed her attention while she traversed the World of Dreams, winding through tremendous arcs of mental energy, the dreams of mighty creatures far beyond the borders of Equestria that she couldn't even begin to hope to understand if she spent the rest of eternity doing nothing but immersing herself in them.

Finally, she came upon her target. The blue-white stream before her pulsed regularly, twisting and turning back and forth- the signs of a nightmare, she knew. With what would have been a deep inhalation of breath were she still in her body, she plunged into the stream, feeling the mental energy wash over her, through her, like a warm stream of water.

Were it the dream of a pony she were entering, she could magically attune herself to that pony, immediately giving herself power over every aspect of it; she seldom used this power to do anything aside from observe the entirety of the dream, or occasionally change an aspect of it, or speak directly to the subconscious of the dreaming pony. But for other species, that magical attunement was impossible, leaving her only her psionic talents- which required time to adapt to the mind of another creature, leaving her helpless to do much more than observe passively from a subjective viewpoint until she better attuned herself to that creature's psyche.

Her vision cleared after a moment, and she found herself in a familiar place- the Everfree Forest... or at least a warped, shadowy version of it, every tree around her seeming to exude malevolence. Leaves crunched under her hooves as she made her way through the woods, her ears flicking back and forth as she listened for signs of any other creature around her.

A moment later, she heard the footfalls of something else further in the woods; as quietly as she could- not very quietly at all; she was still completely subject to the dream's simulation of reality, and sound was apparently forefront on the dreamer's mind- she headed towards it, counting on her dark coloration to keep her from being spotted by either the creature or whatever else might populate its dream. She couldn't actually be harmed in any permanent way here, but so long as she was bound by the rules of the dream, any injury suffered by her “body” here would prove as restrictive as if she were injured in the flesh.

There, ahead of her, a flash of light and movement. As carefully as she could, she approached, peeking around a tree to find the creature stopped in a clearing. Its forelimbs were stretched out in front of it; in one forepaw- hand, she decided; it bore enough of a resemblance to minotaurs for that appellation- it held a small blue device that shone a bright cone of light into the darkness, and in the other, a strange metallic object that could only be the weapon she'd heard described. If its effects here at all resemble those in reality, she thought, then I had best avoid being its target.

Abruptly- as if pieces had been dropped on the playfield of a game- a trio of presences made themselves known near her. Timberwolves, she realized, though these hardly resembled the plant creatures she knew; they were much larger and darker, their profiles more jagged, and the glow of their eyes seemed downright evil. Nightmares do tend to amplify threats into something even more threatening than they originally were.

The creature's weapon burst into flame three times- no, not quite, she realized, even as she watched it function; flame and noise came from a small hole in the front, and part of the top of it moved in reciprocation, expelling a small metal object. The cylinders Twilight mentioned in her reports, she thought, so caught up in the weapon's operation that she almost forgot to observe its results- each small explosion caused a timberwolf to fly apart, as if struck by an invisible but considerable blow.

The dream's meticulous reproduction of the weapon's functions showed a strong familiarity in the mind of the dreamer, just as would armor or magic in the mind of one of the Royal Guard; paired with the seemingly careful way the creature employed it even within the dream, she surmised that the creature was skilled in its use. With the threats eliminated, her quarry turned and ran, the light-emitter held up by its shoulder to light its way while it kept its weapon in its other hand. As carefully as she could manage, Luna kept pace.

After what seemed to be hours of running, the creature came to another clearing, at the far end of which was what looked to be the strange carriage Twilight and her friends had found in the Everfree- only here in the dream, its condition was far worse, the metal frame bent and warped in several places, the glass windows smashed. Yet the creature climbed inside and attempted to operate it somehow, soft plaintive cries coming from its mouth as its actions produced no results.

Then there was a whistling sound and a crack like thunder, and the carriage was shorn in half like tissue paper, just behind where the creature sat.

Luna spun around. At the far end of the clearing was a unicorn stallion- that “Big Top” who was still at large, the Princess surmised- only warped to look far more evil than any pony could ever hope to seem. His eyes were pure black, except for bright red pinpoints of light, and his body resembled that of a manticore more closely than an equine's; next to him, enveloped in a deep-red nimbus of magic, was a thorned whip easily four times as long as the pony's body.

When she turned back towards the creature, the carriage had somehow transformed into a cage, which her quarry was just now climbing out of. Its upper clothing had disappeared, and a nasty wound had appeared on its furless back, blood spilling along its skin as it scrambled to stand again. It immediately raised its light and weapon to point them at the nightmarish unicorn stalking towards it- but the light immediately went out, and the weapon seemed to refuse to function no matter how urgently the creature seemed to work at it. With a shout of dismay, her target threw both items aside, turned and ran into the woods; Luna looked back to see that the horrible unicorn had vanished from sight, and so hastened to catch up once more to the creature.

It wasn't hard to follow her target- the creature had thrown all caution to the wind and was blindly tearing through the woods, stumbling over roots and through branches. She actually nearly ran into him when he came to an abrupt stop; she looked past him to see two earth ponies, a stallion and a mare, standing before him, blocking a thin path that seemed to lead out of the forest; both ponies stared blankly at him, unemotional and unmoving, like exceptionally lifelike ponniquins.

She was so busy gazing at them in shock that she didn't think to hide, and had the creature almost run into her as it turned back the way it came. Her eyes locked onto its own, and she could almost feel the surprise and terror behind those small, grey orbs, until it turned to run away from her as well.

thwipCRACK

That horrible whip wrapped around the creature's leg, the barbs digging through the fabric of its clothing and drawing blood; the weapon pulled, and the creature fell, hitting the ground hard. Luna instinctively took a step back as she saw the unicorn, seemingly larger and even more malevolent than before, pulling it towards him with a wicked grin, too-white teeth glinting in the strange half-light of this place. The creature screamed in terror, throwing everything it could reach at the unicorn, to no avail; it was pulled up close to him, and with a guttural snarl, the unicorn raised a hoof and brought it down on the creature's unprotected head.

And then Luna was ejected violently from the dreamscape, finding herself once more floating aimlessly through the Astral Plane. She needed a moment to collect her wits, and then allowed her projection to dissipate and her consciousness to return home.

She awoke in a cold sweat, her heart still racing from her experience. The late-morning sun's rays, filtered through stained glass and thick curtains, cast curious shapes on the far wall; her blanket was tangled around her legs. With little effort, she pulled herself free and summoned a sheaf of papers, a quill and an inkpot, immediately committing her experience to parchment for later review.

Well, there is one thing of which I can be certain, she mused, even as she wrote. The creature is terrified of the ponies which kept him captive.