Having finally found their way out of the public park and into the more familiar setting of stone buildings and cobblestone streets, Astrid took the time to look around a bit as they walked. The area they were in had a more rural feeling to it, as opposed to the marble structures farther towards where Astrid assumed the center of the city was located. She actually preferred it, if she were completely honest.

Quite a few ponies noticed the duo. Conversations paused and curious stares followed the two, making Astrid nervous when their gazes lingered on her specifically. She just hoped the fact that she was accompanied by Sterling would be enough to dissuade them from getting too suspicious of her.

Even so, she hung just a little bit closer to the pinto colt, somewhat appreciative of the escort.

During their trek Astrid found herself wondering what sort of pony Sterling’s instructor was like. From what she was able to glean from their rather one-sided conversation, his tutor was a stern sort of mare, with little to no tolerance for lackluster effort in her work.

For some odd reason, Astrid could not help but think of her second-grade math teacher. The mental image of that crotchety old bat in the form of miniature horse creature was incredibly amusing to her, and she had to stifle her laughter. Hearing her mirth in spite of her attempts to mask it, Sterling looked at her quizzically as they walked. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

Astrid waved off the question, acting like it was no big deal yet was still unable to wipe the amused grin off her face. “Sorry, it’s nothing,” she said.

Sterling quirked his head, his lanky mane spilling around his face as she was reminded that he still could not understand her, for some strange reason that she had yet to work out. He seemed to comprehend the simplicity of her reply, choosing not to pursue the matter with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Huh, alright then. Anyway, as I was saying, I think you’ll actually like my tutor,” he said, continuing on with his conversation. “I mean, sure she can seem a little. . . aloof I think is the right word? I think that’s it.” He shook his head. “Eh, doesn’t matter. The point is I just think you might actually like her, so long as you don’t let her get under your fur.”

“I don’t have fur.”

Unaware of what Astrid said, Sterling added with a hint of caution in his tone, “Just, uh, let me introduce you alright? She doesn’t normally like surprise guests, especially when she in the middle of her work.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Astrid replied with a nonchalant shrug, although in truth she was starting to feel increasingly worried the more she learned about this mare. She didn’t get her name since Sterling was apparently feeling coy, although he likely didn’t mean to. Astrid wondered if she would be better off just ditching Sterling now while she could and avoid the hassle if she was just running the risk of being chased off anyway. As much as she disliked leaving the colt like that, she found the possibility of a rebuttal even more distasteful. If she left on her own, at least then it would be on her terms, however much that mattered anymore.

In the middle of her internal debate Astrid suddenly realized what she was thinking, and she scolded herself for such thoughts. How could she be so persistently pessimistic after accepting Sterling’s offer? Her experiences with the ponies weren't the best, but that did not mean she should actively cut all ties with them altogether because of a few unwanted mishaps.

Better to give Sterling the benefit of the doubt she decided. If she was welcome, then at least she would be out of the cold and not have to sleep on the pavement anymore. And if not, well then nothing would have changed, and she would continue on her mission of finding a way home. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Astrid jolted when she realized that Sterling was actually speaking to her during her period of introspection.
“Hello? Are you there?” he said, waving a hoof in front of her face. She gave an apologetic smile, nodding her head to reassure him that she was still with him.

“Good, ‘cause my tutor’s house is just over here. Come on.” With that he rushed forward, leaving Astrid to catch up with him. A minute later they came upon a domicile that stood out quite markedly from the surrounding neighborhood. For one thing, it had a much higher focus on wood and quartered stone, as opposed to the slabs of carved marble the majority of the city seemed to be made of, looking more like a house one would find sequestered in the woods somewhere.

Second, it was terribly run down. The grass in the front yard had obviously gone for quite a while without any care, and a low stone wall that surrounded the small property was aged and sprouting weeds from between its many gaps. As for the house itself. . . it had seen better days, and that was all Astrid was going to say about it.

Astrid began to suspect that maybe they were in the wrong place, and that Sterling had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. She found out she was incorrect in her assumption when Sterling announced, “Here we are,” and pushed the gate open. A loud screech emanated from long neglected hinges. Astrid cringed in discomfort at the sound, forcing her to cover her long ears with her hands until it stopped. How Sterling seemed not to mind the dreadful din was beyond her.

“I take she doesn’t believe in Spring cleaning,” she muttered, caring little if Sterling heard her or not.

Trotting up to the front door with Astrid in tow, the two disturbed quite a number of dandelions, spreading their seeds across the already heavily unkempt lawn. Sterling knocked tenderly, as if he were afraid to break it. Considering how old it looked, Astrid would not be surprised if it crumbled into splinters right there.

“Are we really in the right place?” Astrid wondered as she took in the sorry state of the property, finding it difficult to believe Sterling’s tutor would willingly live in a dump such as this. The answer to her question came in the form of muffled hoofsteps from inside, accompanied by the crash of something falling over. Behind the door Astrid heard someone heatedly swearing. Sterling’s ears fell back, and he scratched at his fetlock. The fact that he was nervous did no favors in assuaging Astrid’s own reservations.

A series of locks clicked, and the door opened with a harsh squeal, its hinges in desperate need of oil. Inside, looking rather tired and very irate at having been disturbed, stood a cream colored, bespectacled unicorn mare in a black turtleneck sweater. Her magenta mane looked almost as unruly as Astrid’s, with only the bare minimum of effort made to keep it in line, having been tied up into a little bun atop her head. She looked around, searching the premises for whoever would be so rude as to disturb her, until she caught sight of the colt standing in front of her.

“Hello, miss Moondancer,” Sterling said. While the effort he put in to making the greeting seem like he was not incredibly anxious from being late to meet her was admirable, even Astrid could plainly tell that the mare, now identified as Moondancer, was having absolutely none of it.

Looking like she had just woken up from a too short nap, Moondancer sighed in obvious disappointment. Addressing the colt, she said, “Sterling, how many times do I have to say it before you’ll finally get it into your head? You can’t just show up whenever you happen to feel like it.” Gesturing to the interior of the house she continued to berate him. “Don’t you see how late it is? Everypony else has already gone home, and here you are acting like it’s no big deal.”

Dipping his head, Sterling spoke dejectedly. “I’m sorry miss Moondancer. It won’t happen again.”

“How many times have I heard that now?” Moondancer said quietly, barely loud enough for Astrid to pick up. The way she spoke indicated that this was not the first time this had occurred, she thought while she waited for the mare to inevitably notice her presence. Sighing again, she added, “That’s not important right now. I’ll discuss it with your guardian later. I take it you’re here to return your. . . books. . .”

Moondancer trailed off as her gaze slid over to Astrid, her expression turning pensive. Astrid shifted uneasily as a tense silence settled over them. The mare blinked, and her horn lit up briefly in a pink glow as her glasses readjusted themselves upon her muzzle. Her sight shifted between the two a few times. Astrid could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she attempted to puzzle out the situation. Finally, she spoke. “Um. . . Sterling? Who’s this?”

“Huh?” Sterling uttered, having apparently forgotten the one reason he goaded Astrid into tagging along with him. Astrid shook her head, pinching the bridge of her small nose. Following his tutor’s line of sight Sterling finally realized his error. “Oh, right!” he exclaimed, his downcast demeanor being replaced by borderline excitement. He gestured towards Astrid. “S-sorry. Um, miss Moondancer, I realize that there’s not a whole lot I can do to make up for my tardiness. . . again. But I have a good reason why I’m late this time.”

“I think I can hazard a guess.”

Astrid herself was unsure of what was going on in the mares’ head; her expression was unreadable, ranging somewhere between inquisitiveness and wariness. Placing a hoof around Astrid shoulder and pulling her close, Sterling looked excited to the point of bursting as he began regaling Moondancer with his tale. Or at least, he attempted to, until he found himself cut off when the mare put her hoof to his mouth, silencing him before he could even start.

She scanned their surroundings, seemingly to ensure no one was looking their way, then said, “How about we take this inside?”

Sitting on an old couch, freshly cleared of the mountains of books stacked upon it, Astrid did her best to look as polite and nonthreatening as possible. Her hands were neatly folded in her lap, her thin legs were crossed demurely, and she made absolutely sure to avoid eye contact as much as possible. There was no question that Moondancer had already seen her crimson eyes, especially considering the mare was seated directly across from her on a little wooden rocking chair, where she continued to scrutinize the girl with an unwavering stare. Nevertheless, Astrid was not willing to risk holding her gaze, sparing only brief glances at their host.

Sterling sat next to her, munching on a bagel offered to him by Moondancer. He apparently had next to no concept of decorum, as he attempted to talk and eat at the same time. Moondancer seemed not to mind him getting crumbs all over the place, at least not enough to stop looking at Astrid, as he regaled her with the events that led to their meeting.

Astrid minded though, and scooted away from just a bit, absentmindedly gnawing away at her own bagel. She fought the temptation to dive forward and shove her face into the bowl, placed invitingly on the small coffee table and containing a tantalizing amount of assorted loaves, too nervous to let her empty belly get the better of her. The fact Moondancer offered it to her at all was enough for her to rest easy knowing she was not going to just be tossed out, but she refrained from getting her hopes too high. It was rather dry, she noted as she bit into it, not to mention a bit heavy on spices. Oddly content to distract herself with such a banal observation while Sterling talked, Astrid simply sat and waited.

“So anyway, that’s when she jumped in, and threw Glim into the river instead,” Sterling explained, his mouth full. “After that, I thought it would be nice to offer to let her tag along so you could meet her. I’d tell you her name but, uh. . . I can’t really say it all that well.”

Astrid groaned, rolling her eyes a bit as she took another bite out of her bagel.

Even though she nodded her head, it seemed to Astrid that Moondancer had difficulty following Sterling’s story. She could hardly blame the mare either, as the colt had a habit of jumping between different points, not to mention lacing certain parts with copious amounts of hyperbole. For one, Astrid absolutely did not recall Glim having an army of twenty foals with her, but was not under any inclination to dispute it.

“Uh huh,” Moondancer uttered in vague understanding now that Sterling had finally finished. She looked incredibly confused as she tried to wrap her head around what she just heard. Astrid found herself having the same issue, and she was there. She then mentioned, “Hold on, you said she chased off the other foals, right? Then why are you still soaking wet?”

“Oh, that’s because I jumped in myself,” Sterling answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Moondancer on the other hand did not seem to think so, her brow furrowing and her mouth forming a small circle. She looked to Astrid in question, who could only offer a shrug in consolation. At least they were both confused.

“Let it go, down that path lies madness,” Astrid declared. Moondancer quirked an eyebrow at, reminding Astrid of the one way language barrier between them. Wisely choosing not to pursue the matter, Moondancer let out a terse groan, rubbing her eyes. She sat in silence for a little while in thought, until she addressed Sterling.

“Sterling,” she said. Her tone worried Astrid. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Hearing those words, Astrid felt her heart beat just a little faster in her chest, thinking about all the possible implications behind them. Her imagination started to work overtime in her head, coming up with all sorts of undesirable scenarios, ranging from banishment to imprisonment to some odd combination of the two. She looked to Sterling, and saw that he looked just as concerned as she felt.

Noticing their hesitation Moondancer quickly said in as soothing a manner as she could, “Oh, y-you don’t have to worry, you’re not in trouble or anything. There’s just a few things I want to discuss and clear up. Alright?”

Again, the two looked at each other, their worries unabated but unable to anything about them. “Okay,” Sterling answered timorously, hopping off the couch and following Moondancer into the next room, leaving Astrid to wonder what she was going to do in the meantime.

That worry was put to rest when Moondancer paused to address her, uncertainty evident in her mannerisms. “Um, feel free to look around if you like,” she said. “Just be careful not to break anything.” With that, she disappeared through the threshold.

Once both ponies were gone, and she was left to her own devices, Astrid lunged forward, grabbing as many bagels as she could before cramming them into her mouth, decorum now a long forgotten concern of hers. Within minutes, she had emptied the entire bowl, whereupon she breathed in relieved contentment.

Now that she was no longer as concerned with starving for the time being, Astrid decided to take Moondancer up on her offer, and began wandering around the living room. She found that option a bit more palatable than fretting over whatever they were discussing in the other room, their conversation no doubt concerning her.

She could hear them, but was unable to make out anything clearly, picking up a few scant words that had no meaning on their own. It frustrated her to no end, not knowing whether or not-

Astrid stopped herself before she could finish the thought. Getting herself worked up over something she had little control over would not help anything. The best she could do at the moment was just hope for the best, and take the blows as they came. It was the only way she was going to get herself out of this mess.

‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it though,’ Astrid thought to herself, grumbling about her misfortunes while she explored the interior of Moondancer’s home.

From the moment Astrid had first stepped inside, it was abundantly clear to Astrid that the mare, while clearly very well educated, lived a very disorganized lifestyle. Everywhere Astrid looked she could see that all available bits of space were taken up by piles of clutter. The mess consisted largely of books and scrolls, stacked up to heights that looked far too precarious, prompting her to stay clear for fear of knocking them over. Astrid supposed the sheer amount of literature lent some credence to Mondancer being a tutor as Sterling claimed. Nevertheless, Astrid would have thought someone working in such a profession would have a lifestyle to reflect it. Maybe that was a normal occurrence in this world?

Strolling up to the fireplace, a weathered piece of architecture that looked to have gone unused for years, Astrid saw a row of pictures set atop the mantle. She noticed a number of them had been turned over, hiding the photographs from view. The only ones Astrid saw were of Moondancer herself, and what looked like family members. She wondered if they were accidentally knocked over, or intentionally placed that way.

A pang of homesickness settled on Astrid’s heart, causing it to ache a little within her chest. She turned away from the pictures. Whatever the case, Moondancer clearly felt no need to fix them, and Astrid decided to leave them be as she moved on.

Pushed into the corner of the room was an old looking phonograph with a collection of records stacked next to it. Curious, she started ambling towards them to see what sorts of music talking horse creatures listened to.

“Wonder if they have the Beatles,” she thought aloud, somewhat mirthfully. Seeing the records, it appeared that Moondancer had nothing resembling any bands from her home. Picking one up, Astrid wiped away the layer of dust that had accumulated on its surface, disappointed that she was still unable to read the stylized words printed upon it.

Hoping that Moondancer would not mind, Astrid stacked a number of books for her to stand on, making up for her height as she removed the vinyl disc from its packaging, then delicately set it into the turntable.

“Now how does this thing work?” she mumbled.

In the two and half years since she had taken on the profession of being a part time tutor and substitute teacher, Moondancer had learned to expect a number of things from her students. Her experiences with foals, particular the group she was with for this semester, had taught her to almost never point her hopes on things going smoothly. Ever.

Before Sterling had even arrived, she had to deal with her other two charges and their antics, and had since gained a newfound hatred for bubblegum getting stuck in ones mane. That reminded her, she had to ban the accursed substance from all future sessions from now on.

She had also learned to always plan for tardiness, as it was quickly becoming apparent to Moondancer that fillies and colts had a special talent for dragging their hooves to any event regarding their education. As such, after consulting with their parents she had seen fit to cobble together a package which she could give to them if they happened to show up late, or even not at all, so long as it was returned. Sterling was a particularly big offender in this category, and Moondancer was starting to become rather worried for the colt. She was glad that he had least told her why he was late this time, and so was willing to let the issue slide. This time at least. If it happened again, she resolved to speak with his guardian about the matter.

However, one thing that Moondancer had yet to truly understand, and thus account for, was a foals ability to completely stupefy any adult with their actions. Moondancer was currently suffering from such bewilderment, and was unsure how exactly to word her thoughts in a way that Sterling would properly understand.

“So, Sterling,” she began, hoping that she was not coming off as condescending to him. She could tell he was already quite nervous as he stood before her, his ears pressed against his head. Attempting to assuage any fears he had, she said, “I just want to say again that you are not in any trouble, alright?”

“Okay,” he answered with a terse nod. She noticed that he had yet to trim his mane, as it hung down over his eyes, but chose not to point it out.

“That being said though,” she added, “I did want to ask you a few things about your, uh. . .” Moondancer peeked around the corner, confirming that her unexpected guest was not causing any trouble. “Your new friend. Do you know anything about her, like her name?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sterling answered reluctantly, “Eh, not exactly to be honest.”

“What do you mean? Does she talk to you?”

“Oh no, she does talk, it’s just I don't understand a word she says. And it’s weird too, because I’m pretty she knows what I say just fine, it just doesn’t work the other way, you know?”

Moondancer blinked, thrown for a bit of a loop. She recalled Sterling’s friend saying something to her earlier, but merely assumed she had misheard when she didn’t understand. The poor. . . imp? She was reasonably sure she was an imp, although Moondancer’s studies on obscure creatures were a little lacking. Whoever or whatever she was, she looked so shy that the mare did not expect her to actually say anything, and thus had been caught off guard by the alien words. However, what Sterling told her confirmed it was not just her own inattention at work, but that his friend was speaking in an entirely different language altogether. Perhaps if she heard more, she could properly identify it.

Moondacer was startled out of her thoughts when gentle notes of music floated in from the other room. Concern for her possessions welling up within her, she hurried over to see what was going on, anticipating to find a mess. That was not to say her living room was not already a mess, but it was an organized mess, and she preferred to keep it as such.
She found no such thing however; everything remained largely untouched save for the bowl of bagels she had set out, which had somehow been completely emptied in the two minutes she and Sterling had been talking in the kitchen. Searching for the imp, she soon found her standing on a little stack of books next to her old phonograph. She looked both surprised and somewhat pleased at getting it to work.

Moondancer could barely remember the last time she had used it, as soothing jazz emanated from the device, the otherwise smooth notes contrasting with the grainy static of the phonograph. Hearing it now after it had been rendered dormant. . . it dredged up memories that she would rather forget. Before she even knew it, Moondancer had opened her mouth to tell the imp to cut it out and leave her things alone. However, the words never left her lips, unable to bring herself to scold the imp for something so inconsequential as listening to music from yesteryear. Not to mention Moondancer had already given her permission to look around so long as nothing was damaged. It did little to serve her to go back on that.

Besides, the imp seemed to be enjoying it judging from the way she bobbed her head slightly in time with the music. She clearly had taste, Moondancer had to admit that much. As she watched, still trying to make up her mind on how she was going to handle Sterling and his friend, she caught of something hanging around the imps neck; a pendant depicting some sort of winged creature that the imp twirled it around in her obsidian fingers.

She seemed to be lost in thought, as she had yet to notice Moondancer’s presence. The mare decided to keep it that way, refraining from disturbing the imp as she retreated back into the kitchen. Sterling peered over, interested by the music.

“Is that Hoofstrong?” he asked excitedly. “I didn’t know you were a fan miss Moondancer.”

“I’m not,” she replied, a bit more forcefully than she meant to. “It’s just some stuff from way back when. . .” Realizing she was going off on a tangent, Moondancer shook away the memories before they could resurface, attempting to get back to matter at hoof. “Sterling,” she said in a very no-nonsense tone. “I can see why you would feel inclined to be grateful to your new friend out there, but forgive me for finding it hard to believe that you would bring her all the way to my house just so I could meet her. It seems like a lot of trouble to go through. Is there something going on?”

At this, Sterling’s head lowered. His mouth worked a few times, as though he were having difficulty finding the words to answer her. Seeing his struggle, Moondancer lowered herself down to the floor where was eye level with him. Doing her best to convey her concern to the obviously nervous colt, she said, “Sterling, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. Is it about those bullies? Because I can-“

“It’s not them, okay?” he said suddenly, surprising her a bit from the tone he used. Something about the way he said it did not convince Moondancer that he was telling the truth, at least not all of it. Even through his uncut mane, she could tell that he was extremely hesitant to speak about it. Before she could push him to come clean he added, “It’s just. . . when she helped me out, my friend, I started talking with her, as much as I could anyways. I just wanted to thank her and let her let go home, and I. . .” He trailed off, nervously tapping his hoof on the floor.

“Yes?” Moondancer goaded gently, hoping she was not being to pushy.

Sterling heaved a great sigh, his shoulders rising and falling from the action. “I. . . said something to her, and when I looked at her, she. . . she just. . .” Moondancer leaned her head forward, her mind racing with all sorts of possibilities, almost none of them good, and she began to worry that maybe the imp had done something to him. Celestia knows the poor colt didn’t another bully on his back. Finally, Sterling seemed to gather his courage, although he nevertheless leaned over, presumably to gauge whether they were being spied upon before he said to her, “Miss Moondancer. . . I don’t think she’s got a family.”

Moondancer blinked, and for what felt like the third time in the span of about twenty minutes, her mind was going into overtime in attempting to process what the young colt just told her. Out of all the things she expected to hear, that was very low on the list.

No family?

Pieces in Moondancer’s mind began to slowly fall into place. Aspects she had been attempting to discern about the imp became clear now, such as her outwardly timid nature and her rough appearance, ranging from her blemished gown to the scuffs and bruises on her obsidian skin. To imagine what she must have been through. . . Moondancer prided herself on being able to look at most situations with an air of detachment; it helped her to see things objectively without the need for personal involvement, but if what she just heard was true. . . it was almost enough to make her rush into the next room and do whatever she could to comfort the imp. Through sheer force of will she remained steadfastly rooted in place before Sterling.

“Are you sure?” she questioned. He gave a terse nod; unneeded, as the look in eyes was answer enough. She sighed heavily, removing her glasses as she felt the onset of an approaching migraine, and she put a hoof to her head, futilely attempting to both assuage it as well as decide what to do about this revelation. She was drawing a complete blank. She had no point of reference to go from, and she doubted finding one in any of her books.

“What should we do miss Moondancer?” Sterling asked, his question doing little to steer her thoughts in any coherent direction. Moondancer looked at the colt. The emotion in his eyes was palpable, and instantly she understood his desire to help his new friend. She found it quite admirable. She had no answer for him, at least not yet. She needed time to think.
In lieu of that, Moondancer looked to the timepiece on the wall, realizing how late it was getting. “Right now,” she replied, “you need to start going home.” Sterling was about to protest, but Moondancer cut him off. “Ah, none of that. It’s getting late, and if you aren’t home soon Lilac will tan both of our hides.”

“But what about-“

“Sterling,” she said sternly, standing up as her glasses floated back onto her snout. “Don’t worry. I will take care of this, alright? I’ll keep an eye on her, and figure out what I can. You’ve done enough for today.”

Sterling held her gaze for a moment, but she was not going to compromise on this sort of matter. Eventually, with a heartfelt sigh he relented, dipping his head in admonishment. Trying to comfort him, Moondancer sidled up next to him, placing a hoof over his withers. “Hey,” she said. “You’re coming back tomorrow; you’ll get to see her again. You can even introduce her to your other friends. Eh?”

“Yeah. . . sure,” he answered unenthusiastically, slowly plodding away from her. Moondancer followed after him into the living room.

Moondancer picked up the distinct patter of little feet rushing away. Sterling did not seem to notice though, and when they entered the living room they found imp laying on the couch, casually inspecting the little spikes on her forearms. Moondancer was not fooled for a second into believing she had not been listening in on them, but she could hardly bring herself to fault her for the act.

Moondancer ensured that goodbyes were kept brief as Sterling retrieved his saddlebag, making assurances that all would be well under her watch. Truthfully Moondancer had not the slightest clue on how to proceed, and could only come up with half baked promises that she was not sure if she could even keep. It was all she had at the moment.
In due time Sterling was on his way home, waving goodbye as Moondancer saw him off from her door.

“Goodnight miss Moondancer,” he called. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that the colt trotted off towards his home. As Moondancer watched him go she started to imagine the look on Lilac’s face when he told her about his ordeals that day, and the thought brought a wry grin to her muzzle. The moment passed, and a tired sigh escaped her lips as she shut the door.

The imp sat patiently on the couch, her crimson eyes flicking to Moondancer every few seconds. She tried to hide her nervousness, but the brave façade was for naught as her anxiety was all too apparent to the mare. She was visibly shaking, appearing ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Hoping to set whatever fears she undoubtedly had at ease before the poor thing gave herself a heart attack, Moondancer trotted over.

“So,” she began uncertainly, scratching at her fetlocks. She disliked small talk, on account of never being any good at it. “I’m, uh, sure that you’ve had a long day.”

A small nod was all she got in response. Although the reply was nonverbal, it did confirm for her that the imp did indeed understand at least most of what she said as Sterling had mentioned. However, the revelation did little to alleviate the uncomfortable silence that followed soon afterward, and Moondancer tried to think of something else to say to break the ice.

Once again, she noticed the pendant hanging above her dirty gown. the imp fiddled with it in her fingers, giving her a clearer view of it; a series of silvery bands wrapping around a set of glittering white gemstones, forming into a winged creature of some sort. Judging from the way the imp held it, Moondancer guessed that it either served some sort of religious purpose, or perhaps was an object of great sentiment for her. She was tempted to ask about it, but refrained for fear of being too forward.

She looked at the empty bowl on the table. “Are you hungry?” she asked. The imp looked at her, causing Moondancer to flinch upon meeting her crimson eyes. She took a moment to think the question over, before responding with a quick shake of her head. She wondered if the imp was afraid of imposing on her, but chose not press the issue. She was actually glad she declined, as it was only then that she recalled she did not have a lot to offer. By that she of course meant that it had been weeks since Moondancer had seen fit go shopping for. . . anything really; those bagels were about all she had left in her pantry.

“That’s fine,” she replied uneasily. “That’s okay, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Moondancer mentally kicked herself, hating how inexperienced she was at this sort of thing. Bordering on the edge of desperation she scoured her brain for anything she could do to alleviate the awkward tenseness, until finally a thought occurred to her. Sitting on her haunches, Moondancer put on a friendly smile. “You know what? I just remembered something.” She scooted a bit closer to the imp, receiving an apprehensive look. Moondancer decided to ignore it. “I just realized that I never properly introduced myself, what with having to deal with Sterling and all.” She paused to clear her throat, then said while placing a hoof to her chest, “My name is Moondancer. You obviously already knew that, but you know how it is. Formalities and such, right?”

The imp, still eyeing her warily, nodded in mock comprehension. Again, Moondancer inched just a little bit closer, her objective being to put the imp at ease. It seemed to work, if only slightly. At least she was not shivering in fright anymore. Moondancer would take what she could get though. “So, now that I’ve introduced myself, would you like to tell me your name?”

The imp eyed her, seeming to gauge whether she wanted to reply; while Moondancer waited in silent apprehensively, doing her best to be patient. Her natural curiosity in the strange and unknown had started to take hold, overriding her previous state of nervous caution. She admittedly found the prospect to of hearing the imps’ language to be an exciting one, circumstances notwithstanding, and pondered if she might be able to understand what Sterling could not. After all, she had studied hundreds of different languages and dialects across Equestria. She was even fluent in a few of them. Surely at some point throughout her extensive studies she had to have come across something resembling resembling the imps spoken language.

The imp cleared her throat, and Moondancer leaned in close, listening intently.

“Usediraki aniesnish aheamano ninshata. Aberead iatirish, agnesam iraka aw ka ustadukay odoherod go ores.”

Moondancer’s mind drew a complete blank as her years of extensive studying in the field of language failed her utterly, and it showed as her mouth hung open in misguided comprehension.

Seeming to sympathize with her, the imp added, “Ehe, Atta kana womo aw osaw Ishita.”

Groaning in exhausted frustration, Moondancer proceeded to silently curse her vast sum of knowledge. What good were multiple degrees in mathematics, language and fine arts if it didn’t help her understand the vague mutterings of this one lost imp? She removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes with a fetlock. How long had it been since she had decent night of sleep? Her headache was doing a number on her, and recent developments were doing her no favors.

When she looked up, Moondancer noticed that the imp looked just as much, if not more drained than she felt. For the first time it occurred to the mare just how exhausted the imp must be, judging by the way her eyelids drooped. She wasn’t even looking at Moondancer anymore, favoring the floor to settle her gaze upon. She opened her mouth, and a tired yawn escaped her maw, startling the mare a little when she caught sight of sharpened fangs. She shuddered to think of the damage they could do if the imp felt inclined to bite somepony. Maybe she shouldn’t have-

Moondancer discarded the thought, casting it aside as no more than her just being skittish. She needed help, and it was up to her to provide, no matter her reservations. Glancing at the clock and realizing how late in the day it was, she asked, “You must be tired, huh?”

The imp binked at the question, drawn-out action that only highlighted her exhaustion. She answered with a simple utterance of, “Ni oji.” Despite her unfamiliarity with the imps’ tongue, Moondancer felt she could hazard a pretty good guess at what they meant, and she nodded.

“Wait here,” she said to her guest, standing up to walk down the hall leading to her bedroom. She returned soon afterward with a bundle of blankets floating in her magical grasp, finding the imp looking down at her necklace, deep in thought while she brushed at it with her thumb. Even from this angle Moondancer could practically see the turmoil going through her head, prompting her to wonder what she had gone through to end up here.

She decided to file the dilemma away for later. Now was not the time.

Within moments Moondancer had arranged the couch into a makeshift bed. The imp watched her curiously the whole time, and when Moondancer finished setting it up she eyed the sheets in question, looking at them as if they were about to jump out and bite her.

“Well, that’s the best I can do right now.” Moondancer sighed upon making the statement. She did have guest room next to her own, but it was so cluttered it had been rendered completely unusable. Before she could say anything else, she noticed that the imp was now looking straight at her, and again Moondancer felt her insides squirm at the sight of them. She wanted to scold herself for the feeling, knowing that it was through no fault of the imp, it was just how she was. Nevertheless, the mare had to consciously resist the urge to look away.

However, the more Moondancer held her gaze, the more she saw the amount of raw emotion in the imps’ blood red eyes. Moondancer never fancied herself to be an expert on reading emotions, seeing little value in the skill, but even with her inexperience she saw many things, some made all the more apparent when she spoke.

“Atisha miazogo tagira.”

Their meaning was obviousness to Moondancer, and she could plainly hear the gratitude in the imps oddly hollow voice; it was a sincere, yet even she could feel the sadness and fear that laid just hidden beneath their thankful disguise.
She turned away; not just because she couldn’t meet the imps’ eyes, but more so she did not break down from the amount of anguish and uncertainty emanating from her. She had to get away, get her mind off it.

Moondancer cleared her throat. “Yes, well um, if you need anything, I’m just down the hall. I do have a bit of work I need to get done, so I’ll be up for a while yet.” With that, Moondancer turned around, almost forgetting to grab Sterling’s returned books as she made her way to her room. She set the books on her desk, placed in front of a window that afforded her a lovely view of the neighbors’ wall. They needed to be graded by tomorrow, a process that would take a number of hours before Moondancer could finally lay her head down to sleep. She felt very little inclination to get started just yet though, her thoughts refusing to settle down and rest. She peeked outside her door.

For a long while the imp simply stood there, unmoving before the makeshift bed, her face hidden behind her unruly orange mane. All was silent save for Moondancer’s breath in her own ears. Her slim shoulders heaved, and the mare overheard a choked gasp.

She couldn’t take anymore, and she closed the door with a soft click, hating herself for not knowing what to do.

She ambled over to her desk, resting her head next to Sterling’s books with a dull thunk.

What could she do about this? What experience did she have that she could draw upon for help? For all of the books and tomes and scrolls that Moondancer had accumulated throughout the years, she felt completely and utterly useless. It was not a new feeling, unfortunately.

“What am I gonna do?”

Lifting her head, her weariness tempted her into just going to bed, to deal with all of. . . this in the morning. She couldn’t though, not while there was still work to be graded and a broken soul in her living room.

An idea wormed its way into her head, forcing Moondancer to turn her sights over to the small nightstand next to her unkempt bed. A picture frame rested upon it, which Moondancer regarded with no small amount of apprehension. She disliked the idea in her head, almost to the point where she felt compelled to turn it over in frustration.

She could not do this on her own though. She needed help, and right then she had no better option. Exhaling through her nose, Moondancer made her decision. It would have to wait until tomorrow though. Right now, there was schoolwork to look over, and she began flipping through Sterling’s notes.

She uttered a tight lipped groan upon finding that nearly all of the pages were wet.

Astrid looked at the arrangement of blankets, regarding them bleakly. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, hoping to let her breath take her anguish and fear with it. It helped, but not enough. She doubted it would ever be enough.

Even as she thought about it, Astrid’s breath caught in her throat. She clutched at her chest, her heart threatening to crumble like burnt parchment.

The way Moondancer looked at her. . .

Astrid stifled her sobs before they began, refusing to give in to her heartbreak. Despite her attempts, her eyes watered profusely as teardrops fell to wooden floor below, pooling into a small puddle between her feet. Minutes passed during her struggle, until finally she prevailed against herself. Breathing deeply, Astrid felt her gaze drawn to the front door.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Astrid found herself standing before it, her hand reaching upward to turn the knob. She stopped herself, then proceeded to question why she did so. It’s not like she was truly welcome here, considering how she looked to the ponies.

She wanted to hate them, to hate Sterling, to hate Moondancer and every single other weird talking horse thing that looked at her like she was diseased. It would have been easier if she did not hate herself just as much.

Again, she reached for the doorknob, her aching heart telling her that if she did not leave of her own accord then she would only end up being rejected anyway.

Her own father had cast her out; what chance did she have with them?

As soon as the notion invaded her thoughts, Astrid froze, wondering where it had come from. She retracted her hand, clutching it as though it were injured. She backpedaled away from the door, at last realizing the dark turn her mind had taken.

What was she doing?! Was she really going to willingly condemn herself to self-imposed isolation, knowing that doing so was to spit on the kindness that Sterling and Moondancer had offered her? What did that say about her? Had she really fallen so far?

Astrid shook her head, clearing it of all the evil thoughts that had taken root, recognizing where they would eventually lead her. They scared her, and she did not like it.

It was hard, but Astrid reaffirmed within herself the goal of going home. As slim as the hope was, until such time as there was nothing left for her to do, Astrid would keep going. She had to, if for no other reason than to spite fate.

Taking a long while to gather herself, Astrid returned to the bed Moondancer had made for her. She touched the blankets, assessing their make. They were old and well worn, leaving them somewhat coarse upon her skin. They felt like heaven considering her previous state of affairs, and Astrid felt her heart lighten a little with gratitude.

Tucking her small body underneath the covers, it did not take long for Astrid to close her eyes, drifting into an uneasy slumber. Visions of her home and a piercing eye of stone plagued her dreams.

Author's Notes:

Hello all, and welcome back to yet another chapter of Eventide. I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and you can credit both Babroniedad and Shimmer for looking it over and clearing out any major errors.
One thing that I want to mention is that, following the next chapter, updates for this story will slow down a bit, so as to allow me to not suffer from burnout as well as finish up writing the next few chapters.
Until then, Dilos1