Disclaimer: I'm not a native english speaker, so don't get your hopes up about the quality of this fic. However if you don't mind the possible grammar mistakes (and punctuation - I'm weak at punctuation even when it comes to my native language) and decide to give it a shot, I can only wish you a good time.

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Luna was hunting.

Her dark body, drenched in moonlight, was gliding through the night. Droplets of sweat covered her tensed muscles as she put all of her willpower into not making a sound. With socks carefully wrapped around her legs, she moved silently like a shadow. Ponies aren't predators by nature. They never needed to be – plants usually won't run away. Also, hooves are major disadvantage when you try to be stealthy. Yet at the very core of their animal origin there was an instinct almost indistinguishable from the brutal need for a raw flesh. Lust.

The dark silhouette, which was slowly moving through the corridors of the Canterlot castle, was filled with desire to possess. The primal force of that wish pulsed within every cell of Luna's immortal body. It was like a sweet drug, pushing her to continue searching for the tracks of her prey.

She was near. Moon goddess could feel her scent every time she quietly inhaled the cold, night air. It was agitating her senses, tempting her to move faster even if it meant ruining the game. The alicorn had to use great amount of control just to stop herself from leaping forward. The longing for a warmth of another pony wasn't easy to resist. Especially after thousand years of solitude on an empty rock floating through space. However, the mare she was stalking was totally worth it.

Of course she wasn't just going after anypony. It's not like she was a wild beast unable to tame her urges. She was sentient and in control. Had her prey showed even a slight hint of disapproval towards the game they played, she would stop and just vanish into the night. They both knew their body language well enough to read each other like an open book. There wasn't any doubt in their movements This hunt was a silent agreement between both sides, a promise of immense pleasure. It was like a ritual – just as important as the inevitable conclusion.

It was perfect.

Step by step, the princess of the night was closing the gap between her and the mare of her dreams. The scent of her loved one was already drowning her, springing vivid fantasies painted in fuchsia. Soon it was joined by the sound of hooves. The owner was moving carefully so it was just a quiet clopping noise, loud enough to be picked only by heightened hearing of this equine huntress. The tension became unbearable as two of her senses were now being bombarded by a swarm of alluring stimuli. The promise of a ripe feast awaiting nearby was pushing her forward. The fear of startling her prey was killing each motion, changing it into just another small step. Every inch she approached was paid in sweat from the clash of two opposing forces. It was a torture. But a delightful one.

Finally an incentive for her eyes appeared. A beautifully carved pink flank came into view, and Luna barely managed not to gasp in awe of this magnificent picture. For a few seconds her consciousness drifted into the world of memories, reliving the highlights of their young friendship. The cotton candy hair could pop up from any place in the castle, bringing that unbelievably gorgeous smile along for a ride. Somehow she knew when Princess felt lonely or when the cold etiquette of the royalty stiffened her. She noticed the times when the dark passenger locked deep inside her heart stirred, and the fears of nightmare’s return made the alicorn shiver. Moments of confusion when she questioned her purpose, whether she had a place in this new, strange era. Hours when she felt the bitter distrust of nobles: the scowls, the whispers, the silence when she entered the room. Each and every time that bright mare would appear – jumping, and smiling, and overflowing with ideas how to cheer up the gloomy princess – like a bouncing ball filled with infinite happiness. And as time went by, just her presence was enough to bring a smile to Luna's lips.

Usually the moon goddess was the shy one. As much as she hated etiquette, it was etched deep into her mind and often turned her casual behaviour into formal one. She half-joked – wearing a bitter-sweet expression – that she was an artifact from an ancient era. Despite that, the blue-eyed pony somehow always managed to make her relax, feel comfortable and safe. However, this night things were different. It was a special occasion. An anniversary of their first encounter. A night of miracles and wonders. A night of nightmares. The most beautiful of nights. Her night.

She moved one hoof closer, readying herself for a final jump. The next few seconds were harder to bear than thousand year of banishment. It was a final speck of doubt that lasted for a lifetime. Was she ready to love? And was she ready to be loved? There weren't any answers to that questions. Fears echoed inside her skull, eating the strength she had, like some sort of parasite. She froze, unable to move. However, as she kept her eyes on the pink beauty, the doubts were eventually brushed aside by a feeling of certainty. Even if she was going to get hurt it was worth it. She had to do it. Had to to take a leap of faith. Allow herself a shot at happiness. And that she did.

- - - -

Pinkie Pie was hunting.

Her rose coloured body was slowly moving through a corridor inside Canterlot castle. This type of motion was very unusual for the her. It wasn't bouncing. Or trotting. Nor it was galloping, jumping, leaping, dashing, or any other type of activity that involved rapid movements. Actually, it was hardly even walking. The most accurate description would be – changing position in space with almost non-existent velocity. At least Twilight Sparkle would approve of that explanation. Anypony else, assuming they meet Pinkie at some point in their lives (and let's face it – everypony, who is anypony, did meet her at least once) would simply rub their eyes in disbelief. The most energetic equine in all of Equestria couldn't be that slow, now could she? That just somehow felt wrong. But she was that slow. And the cause wasn't any freak accident. She was hunting.

There are various ways to catch a prey. Usually Pinkie would just stalk her target relentlessly until it would exhaust its strength and fell victim to endless stream of hugs, smiles and giggles. But tonight that approach was off limits. This time she would mimic the way that carnivorous plants seize their victims. Pursue by not pursuing. Allure them with their deadly beauty and lead them into a trap. It wasn't Pinkie's style. But she remembered how horribly things ended when she kept using Pinkie's style. Every single time. Each bad breakup followed the same pattern. Once Pinkamena bawled her eyes out she would just push those memories away, erase the image of the colt or mare she dated. Their voices, faces and silhouettes would vanish in a white blur, and the world would turn into a happy place again. But their words always remained, haunting her even though she couldn't tell who were the ponies that spoke them. “Your smothering me, Pinks. I can't take it anymore.”, “Am I just another one of your toys?”,”I need some space, you are way too clingy!”, “This isn't a relationship, it's just you drowning me in gifts””Are you a stalker? Creepy...”. A litany of phrases that hurt like a storm of blades. They were back with her every time she was down. Tormenting her, while reminding not to fail again. Especially now. This mare meant a world to Pinkie. If she disappeared, the fuchsia-coloured pony wouldn't know how to smile any more And devoid of smiles she'd just be a sad Pinkamena. A rock farmer without a speck of joy.

On this special night she needed to do something extraordinary. Something, that would sweep that lovely alicorn of her hooves. That wasn't job for Pinkie – her cheerfulness would get in the way and ruin everything. Pinkamena was also out of question – that wasn't a depressing event. On the contrary, it was the most joyful night in her life. This called for someone else entirely. This called for Diane. After all – she was the mature one. She knew the real pleasure. A mix of sweat and silk, of kisses and moans. Of furious dance that happens when two bodies connect in the most primal act. And of sweet exhaustion afterwards. She was the one that could play the role of an alluring flower, a ripe fruit tempting to be eaten. It takes a goddess to woo a goddess.

Her heart started to beat faster, painting her pink body with deep shade of crimson. She recognized Pinkie's Sense at work. It was her favourite sign as well – the one that tells when her loved one is near. She almost let out a dreamy sigh, and she put a bit more force into her movement. Just enough to make a clopping noise. So that her prey could find her for sure.

Her body was crying out impatiently, urging her to leap into a warm embrace of the dark mare. Her mind was flooded with images of Luna's arousing body. She tried to redirect her thoughts before they destroy every last bit of her resolution, but princess was all she could think about. Every moment they spent together was like a priceless jewel that Pinkie kept in her memory. Her smiles, her laughs, her frowns and scowls, her heart-wrenching loneliness and ageless wisdom. Everything about her was perfect. She was a goddess. And yet, she listened to Pinkie. Really listened. No one did that before. Ponies usually nodded – pretending they heard what she said – or just comment with “You are so random”. And every time it hurt a little inside. But not Luna. She looked directly at the pink pony with her beautiful cyan eyes and listened. Sometimes she would laugh or interrupt her, asking for an explanation of unfamiliar word. Other times she would respond with story of her own. And on few occasion she would scold her for using “foul language”. But each time Pinkie could tell, that every word that dropped from her mouth was absorbed by that dark alicorn. And it made her feel heavenly.

Her body trembled with a barely-containable excitement. The mare of her dreams was almost there. As the seconds passed in silence she started to worry. There was no movement. Was she abandoned after all? Is it over before it really started? What was she thinking, hoping to seduce a princess... Desperate, she focused on a tiny speck of lingering hope, just to keep her mane from deflating. This was out of her hooves, she could only wait now. Wait and believe. As long as it takes. Eventually she heard a tiny clop noise and a sound of wings cutting through the air. It brought a smile of pure joy to her face. Finally, she was found.