By the Moonlight

The Sixth - Sanguis

On a moonlit plain- what most ponies would have deemed the middle of nowhere- a wooden caravan was stopped, home to a traveling showmare. The unicorn in question sat upright in her bed, nursing a glass of fine red wine with a mournful look. Having fled from Ponyville after what was surely her least-successful show, she had traveled to Manehattan, where a carpenter had offered to build a replacement for her crushed transportation and stage- for a price. Trixie took a sip of the bitter liquid and let it slosh around in her mouth. She had given herself to him- every last ounce of her was his for the taking. In exchange, she was able to resume her touring.

The pony shook her head in disbelief- and then a voice inside her, a voice she had tried to bury deep, spoke. The show must go on, huh? Give yourself to it, because there's nothing else you'll ever be able to do with what you've got. And hey- if you ruin a few ponies' days or self-image, who cares, right? It's not like it matters to you- no, you love yourself too much to let it get to you. Or did I miss something?

Trixie sighed. Truth be told, the heckling had been there since she first started, but she had always thought of it as part of the job. Yes, boast and brag and make them despise you, then finish up with some flashy tricks. That's one way to build a following. The only ones that ever seem to truly like you are the impressionable foals... But you like them, don't you, O Great and Powerful?

She poured herself some more wine and began to drink. That's right, swallow it. Drown everything out with your precious booze because there's no way you'll ever, ever face up. Trixie paused and snorted, then hurled the glass at the wall, where it shattered and bled. Like your dreams, dear, like your dreams...

And then she sobbed and sobbed until she passed out.