(100 favorites! Thank you guys so much =D It's overwhelming how much support I've gotten from the community for this story. You guys make it all worthwhile. - Starman Ghost)

Her heart thumping, Evening Star galloped out of the alley and into the street. The warm, muggy air of a Brazilian summer night whipped back her long, flowing, damp mane and tail, and her saddlebag slapped against her flank as her hooves pounded the asphalt. All the while, she feared that someone would see her and call out, followed swiftly by shouts from the human police, who would promptly drag her to an internment camp. She wouldn't have been the first one.

She was amazed that she'd made it as far north as Brazil, but she knew even before she'd gotten there that she wasn't much safer there than in Argentina. She would have to go as far north as Mexico for that. Because it was so far away from the bureau and barriers, and so few ponies lived there, the authorities had not seen fit to impose anything harsher than travel restrictions and curfews on them. She should have been indignant even about that, and on some level she was, but at the same time it sounded downright heavenly compared to Argentina and Brazil's policies.

It didn't happen. Almost as soon as she left the first alley, she was hidden in the relative safety of the second, where she promptly collapsed on the concrete, laying down her bag beside her. This, she supposed, was as good of a place to stop as any. Now she had to make sure she didn't get caught while she was sleeping. Luckily, she knew a spell for that.

With a shudder of disgust, she thrust the entire length of her horn into the pile of refuse that practically overflowed the alley. It was disgusting, but she had to hide her horn's light. This was far from the first time she had done it, and her horn had become greasy and filthy from its numerous brushes with discarded Styrofoam cups and fast food wrappers. She had, at least, gotten used enough to the sensation to more easily focus on her spell.

Evening Star's horn began to glow faintly, almost indiscernibly, as she went to work. She closed her eyes tightly as her body tingled with the sensation of her magical field flowing into her horn, causing it to brighten as it pulsed with energy. Once she had built up enough, she concentrated on her chosen magical formula and began channeling it back through her body.

Slowly, starting from the tip of her horn, she changed color. The effect flowed across her like spilling paint, her fiery red body and ghost-white mane giving way to a drab off-white crossed with grease-colored stripes and flecked with mud-brown spots; soon, she looked like a completely different unicorn. After looking over a foreleg and giving a satisfied nod, she gave her saddlebag the same treatment and lay down to sleep. Her magic had done its job; she blended into the trash pile so well that nobody could have spotted her if they weren't looking for her.

As she drifted off, she began thinking about things that her constant fear and hunger had pushed out of her mind. Nearly the first thing to cross her mind was that she wished she still had internet access, which was actually funny considering she hadn't even known what the internet was a few months ago. There was still so much to read about these humans, so much they had written over thousands of years, it didn't seem fair, it was all because of a war she'd never-

"Three reais?! Three fucking reais?!"

Evening Star's eyes popped open and her body grew ramrod stiff. A man was in the alley! Why was he there? Why was he so angry? She heard shoes scraping against concrete, followed by a thump.

"Where's the rest? That can't be all!" It was the same voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Look, take it, okay? Leave me alone, please!" Whoever said that sounded younger.

Evening Star lifted her head and peered through her hooves to get as good a view as she dared. In the streetlight's orange glare, she saw a pair of young men. One of them, rather heavyset, was pinning the smaller against a brick wall with one hand and holding a switchblade knife to his neck with another.

The seconds crawled by, time marked only by the men's heavy breathing. She wanted to stay hidden and just let this pass without getting dragged into it, then possibly caught by police or the military. She reconsidered when the attacker pressed the knife to his victim's throat.

"Not good enough."

Evening Star's horn was almost instantly enveloped in a red glow. This time she discharged the magic into her throat and lungs, making them as if she'd inhaled helium.

"Stop! Police!" The spell had done its job, her words coming out in a harsh, commanding man's voice.

"Shit!" The mugger instinctively glanced in her direction. He apparently didn't see her, because that same instant he let his victim fall to the ground and scrambled out of the alley and into the night, scattering garbage as he went.

The young man shakily climbed to his feet and looked around confusedly, trying to find the police officer he believed had intervened. Evening Star prayed her horn would dim before he could spot her, but when he suddenly jumped back and yelled, she knew it hadn't.

"A pony? This far north? But how-why the hell are you here in Caxias Do Sul? What do you want? They said they had you all locked up, or shipped out, or shot!"

Evening Star stood up and backed away slowly. It was now or never. She just hoped she'd finally found one who would give her a chance. "Wait! Please, listen! I don't agree with what Celestia's doing! I want to help you! I went through a lot to get here, I just want somepony to know, I'm on your side!"

His eyes still wide, the young man scrutinized her for a moment, subconsciously scratching his chin. "You...you're serious?"

Evening Star nodded, her face set and her head held high. The man turned to face the wall and fished a cigarette out of his pocket. He put it between his teeth, and with a flick of an old, tarnished lighter, he lit it. Its tiny flame lasted just long enough for her to get a better look at the long, black hair hanging limply down his head and his round, boyish face. He took a long drag from the cigarette, blowing a thin wisp of smoke into the air.

"I believe you."

Evening Star's face lit up as if she'd just won the lottery. "Thank you! Listen, I need your help!...Please. I've been living in the streets for days! I can't go back to Equestria, they'd probably make me fight for them! And...and I can tell you things! Things that can help you with the war!"

She realized this last claim was a bit hasty, having perhaps overstepped her willingness to help. She decided she'd worry about that later; for now, she just wanted to focus on staying out of the prison camps.

The man chuckled. "No, thank you. You saved my ass there. How did you do it, anyway, miss...?"

"Evening Star. I magically altered my voice. Always wanted to be an actor, and my magic suits it."

"Huh. Come to think of it, that makes sense. Tell you what, come to my apartment. I'll hide you there. I think I owe you that much. Let's head there now, you look half-starved."

Evening Star smiled. "Oh, thank you! I was wondering when one of you would let me help you." She laughed. "And now you're returning the favor on top of it! What's your name, by the way?"

"Antonio. Antonio Olmos." He took another, shorter drag from his cigarette. "By the way, why do you look like trash?"

Evening Star's eyes widened. "E-excuse me? What are you..."

"Oh, uh, sorry. I just meant your color scheme, I've never seen one like it in Equestrian ponies, usually you're all bright and colorful." He took another drag.

"Huh? Oh! I forgot, no one's seen me like this. Hold on." Her horn glowed again, and her body faded back to its natural colors before Antonio had finished blowing his smoke. He raised his eyebrows, and Evening Star couldn't help giggling a little before Antonio recovered.

"Ah...yeah...that'll do it, won't it? Right, follow me."

Next Chapter: A Radical Idea (Prose) Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 10 Minutes