(A year ago…)

The yak's eyes were hidden by a curtain of icicles that dangled from the thick fur of her forehead, but the two ponies who stood before her knew from their extensive dealings with high society when they were being regarded with intense skepticism.

"To be honest," said the yak, "I was hoping you would turn out to be a little more… rugged. Not just anypony can handle his kind."

The mare of the couple wore an orange-jeweled winter saddle that must have cost enough to buy the entire snow-covered orphanage they were standing next to. "Are you saying you will not let us adopt him?" she asked.

The yak sighed a great cloud of frozen breath into the space between her and the couple. "Come with me," she said, waving them along with a hoof from which several red bead bracelets dangled.

The ponies followed her around the corner of the orphanage and slightly up the slope of the mountain plateau village they had traveled hundreds of miles to reach. Behind the building they stopped at the top of a low ledge overlooking a fenced-in playground full of pony and yak children racing around simple snow sculptures and hoof-made wooden toys. It wasn't luxury, and some of them looked a little thin, but the scene was charming enough.

"This is what you imagine when you think of a young one, yes?" asked the yak.

The couple nodded in cautious unison. They also knew from long experience when they were being set up for a rhetorical point.

The yak continued. "You expect innocent laughter, and harmless play-dates, and just a little bit of trouble you can easily handle between appointments and laugh about later. But look at him."

She pointed, and their eyes followed her hoof to the far side of the playground. There, atop a slab of mountain rock and in the shadow of the orphanage roof, crouched a small silhouette whose predatory outline was neither pony nor yak and made the couple feel a sudden instinctive desire to round up the children below and lead them to safety.

It was the griffon cub.

"He waits until the others drop their guard. Then he pounces on them. At the beginning he would bite and scratch, but after a lot of effort we finally stopped that. Now he just scares them, or takes their toys, or knocks over the snow sculptures they make. We try to protect them, but he is quick and patient. He throws the food we give him in our faces because we won't give him meat. We have to clip his wings to make sure he doesn't fly off into the mountains looking for his parents since he doesn't believe us when we tell him about the accident. He trusts no pony or yak, so of course has no friends."

The yak fell silent, waiting for the couple to respond. Eventually the stallion, whose fashionably urban scarf and jacket were just too flimsy to give him much protection against the mountain winds, spoke up in a shivering voice. "Look, I know we might come across as a somewhat, well …"

"Prissy?" offered the yak, deadpan. "Arrogant?"

Orange Parfait, heir to the Orange family fortune and the pony whose company filled a fourth of the juice glasses in Equestria, blinked in shock at her frankness. He babbled in search of a way to continue, but it was his wife, Orange Mimosa, who pressed on.

"Please," she said. "We know it will be hard. We have already thought about it a great deal."

The yak shook her great head. "I'm sure you have. You've thought about how you'll be the talk of your big city, how you'll parade him around like a rare pet and impress your friends with how noble you are for taking such a savage into your home. And if he really is too much trouble you can just pay servants to raise him instead, hmm? No, I should have listened to my doubts when I read your fancy letter and told you not to come. You can't give him what he needs."

Orange Mimosa stamped her hoof, sending pebbles and snow tumbling off the ledge. "Well I never," she said, moving close enough to the yak's face that the heat of her breath could melt the icicles in front of her eyes. "Who are you to make such slanderous assumptions? Prissy? Alright, I'll give you that. Arrogant? Yes, not our best feature. But the two-faced deadbeats you just described? I won't stand for that. If it's proof of my sincerity you need I will stay on this wretched frozen rock and wash your dishes with my own expensively manicured hooves. I will carry your firewood on my acupunctured back and sweep your moldering furniture with my surgically corrected tail. I will suffer any degradation you care to think up before I let the likes of you question my commitment to being a good parent."

For the first time in years the yak actually felt uncomfortably hot. It was her turn to babble a little. "Ah, an… interesting bluff, but…"

"Try me."

When she could no longer stand staring into Orange Mimosa's unyielding scowl she turned to regard her husband. He wasn't shivering anymore, and his eyes weren't very welcoming either. "We chose him precisely because he is a difficult child," he said. "We can afford some difficulty in our lives in a way that other parents might not. And if you think he is the sort of thing that impresses high society then you really don't know a lot about Manehattan."

The yak looked down and traced embarrassed little circles in the snow with her hoof. "Oh, very well. You seem to be made of tougher stuff than I gave you credit for, and we do need to make room for other needy children. Still, impressing me with your conviction is one thing…"

Somepony in the playground shrieked. The Oranges turned to see the children scattering away from a tangle of flailing limbs and flying snow. One of the young yaks had been pounced on. A tired looking adult pony with a toy rattle cutie mark came running over from the back door of the orphanage to break up the scuffle, her multicolored shawl flying off in her haste.

"… but it will take more than words and hard work to win him over," finished the yak.

As they watched the scene below the Oranges' shared look of certainty wavered for only an instant. "We can tame him," said Parfait.

---

(Present day…)

The mouse pressed her back against the sugar-free cereal box, trying to blend in with the cartoon mascot on its front while frantically scanning the vast brunch table for the slinking thing that had spooked her. Beads of sweat the size of her darting eyes were sliding down her whiskers, and her tiny chest heaved up and down like the final bounces of a rubber ball.

That had certainly not been a cat.

A cat she could have dealt with, especially the overfed, over-bred pillow pets she was used to running circles around in Manehattan apartments. But she'd never seen anything like those terrible golden eyes, eyes that glittered with the worst that a combination of civilization and the wilderness had to offer.

A spoon clinked somewhere behind the cereal box, out of her field of vision. Something that was just getting the hang of stealth was closing in on her position. She gritted her teeth in a panicked grimace and held her breath. Perhaps a dash for the teapot a few feet away could be attempted. Slowly, carefully, she peeled herself off of her hiding place and braced for the sprint.

"End of the line, prey" whooped the amber colored beast that landed with a cutlery rattling thud right in front of her, claws at the ready. "You're going down…"

The mouse tried to dive to her left, but the beast's birdlike talon blocked her path like a wall. "… with an orange juice chaser."

Without missing a beat she made a U turn and leapt into the only choice of cover she had left, a huge mound of heart-healthy margarine on a modern art plate. Her tiny limbs whirled to dig in as far and as fast as she could.

Gottfried the griffon cub giggled creepily at her desperate efforts, then simply smashed his face right into the margarine. His beak nearly closed on her tail, but she managed to climb up onto his head and used one of his feathers to springboard into the nearby basket of low-fat sticky breakfast buns. Gottfried spun around to follow, flinging gobs of margarine off his cheeks and onto the walls of the dinning room. "Good, good, keep trying," he said as he started throwing buns out of the basket, up into the light fixtures and onto the painted faces of pricey works of art. "It'll make the end even more satisfying."

The mouse managed to slip through his claws again, and pelted around the artfully hoof-made jug of orange juice that was her last obstacle before the table edge. Gottfried leapt through the air, attempting to land in front of her again, but his inexperience dropped him on the jug instead, reducing it to pieces. Still, as he tripped forward onto the spreading pool of juice he did manage to grab his prey just before she fell out of sight.

"Gotcha!" he roared.

"Gottfried!" yelled a voice that didn't appreciate yelling.

The griffon cub flinched, but did not release his squirming prize. Instead he moved to hide her behind his back as he stood up on the table, his butter and juice stained face as innocent as his recent predatory frenzy would allow. "Yes Mr. Orange?"

Orange Parfait stood aghast in the doorway to his bedroom across the airy apartment, a damp shower towel still wrapped around his pale yellow flanks and recently applied gel gleaming on his green mane. "Call me 'father'," he said for the hundredth time. "What in all the bylines of the Fence Street Journal are you doing?"

"Uh… I… sneezed… myself onto the table?" the cub tried.

Orange parfait trotted over to get a better look at the damage. "Gracious, our pitcher! And our walls! We had those redone just three months ago. My wallet aches at the memory. Oh, why do your healthy acts of physical self-expression have to be so ruinous son?"

Gottfried bounded off the other side of the table and tried to slink off to his bedroom. "Look, I'll just go wash up and maybe I'll glue your pitcher thing back together or –"

"Wait just one moment!"

The griffon froze in his tracks. Orange Parfait circled around him and pointed at the terrified mouse he had been trying to keep out of view in his talon. "I may have found a possible cause for your catastrophic allergies," said the pony with the stern sarcasm he usually reserved for employees.

Gottfried chuckled nervously.

Orange Parfait's eyes narrowed in frustration. "Release it at once. I've told you before, we do not eat –" he had to push the next word out, "- meat in this household, and even if we did we certainly would not hunt it. This is a pony city and you will live like a pony from now on."

"But it was going after our breakfast! It had it coming!"

"Release it!"

Gottfried gave the mouse one last psychotic look she would never forget and then reluctantly creaked his talons open. She fell to the floor and then vanished under the ornate radiator grill like a dust bunny into a vacuum cleaner. "What a waste," muttered the would-be predator.

"Now go get cleaned up," said Orange Parfait as he reached up to knock a sticky bun off his favorite painting. "If we're quick we can still make a good impression on your cousin." The pony hoped that his son hadn't noticed his slight trembling; the whole predator thing was much further out of his comfort zone than he had anticipated when he had signed the adoption papers.

The griffon waited for Orange Parfait to turn his back on him, then wiped most of the mess off of himself with the bottom of a curtain. "She's not my cousin," he mumbled under his breath. "And you're not my dad."

The doorbell rang.

"Egad, I'm still indecent!" said Orange Parfait. He whipped the towel off his flank and expertly tossed it onto a chair so that it fell into a neat fold. "There, now I'm ready to be seen. Gottfried, please answer the door like a gracious host. You know, the way we practiced, hmm?"

The griffon cub grumbled as he complied. "Welcome to the Orange household," he said flatly, then bowed too crisply to the two ponies in the hallway.

The adult of the pair was Orange Mimosa, or 'mother' as he was supposed to refer to her, resplendent in the most fashionable neck jewelry the season had to offer and perfectly coiffed as usual. "Oh isn't that delightful," she said of his display, tactfully ignoring the poor performance. "You're making such clear progress my dear. Now, here's someone I'm sure you're anxious to meet. Please say hello to your cousin Apple Bloom."

The red-maned filly under the enormous pink bow gave him a smile that would have won over anyone else. "Well howdy there, Gottfried! Nice to finally make your acquaintance!"

Gottfried merely twitched an eye at her and moved out of the way to let them in. "Likewise."

Apple Bloom pranced into the apartment with an appreciative 'ooh' as she took in the almost immaculate décor. While she wasn't especially keen on items like the paintings of angry looking mares made of badly colored squares (she was pretty sure she could do better) or the squiggly floor lamp hanging too low over a stiff looking metal lounge chair, she knew from her sister's warnings that these were hallmarks of a 'couth' pony and that city folk expected guests to be impressed by them.

"Golly, this place must be the fanciest in the city," she declared, then searched her memory for the term Applejack had used when talking to Rarity. "I like how, um, conspicuously consumed everythin' looks!"

Orange Mimosa tittered in a genteel manner as she followed behind and took her niece's tiny saddlebags off her back. "My, what an interesting vocabulary you're developing. It reminds me of when we were helping your sister to speak more… uh, Parfait, did something happen during my absence that I should be made aware of?"

Her husband, standing upright on the table, looked down at her through the brass limbs of the chandelier and mumbled around the freshly delivered croissant he had just pulled out of it with his teeth, "Allergies." He leapt gracefully to the floor and placed the croissant on a plate before continuing. "Our son seems to get crockery-shattering sneezing fits from exposure to mice."

Orange Mimosa sighed and gave Gottfried a despairing look that he failed to notice, absorbed as he was in watching a house fly buzz stupidly around the living room ceiling. His tail flicked with murderous tension.

"More hunting?" asked Mimosa at half volume. Parfait nodded. "Goodness, and it's still too early for a drink," she said. "Let's deal with it later. You should give your niece a proper greeting."

"But of course, where are my manners!" said Parfait. He turned to find Apple Bloom trying to start a conversation with Gottfried while staring quizzically at the fly that had him so enthralled. "So, how is our little Apple Bloom keeping these days? I dare say I haven't seen you since you were small enough to wrap in an orange peel. Now you must be as old as your sister was when she first visited Manehattan. I hope you'll find it more to your liking than she did. In hindsight I must say we could have handled that much better."

Apple Bloom zipped over to him excitedly and gave his foreleg a painful hug full of gratitude. "Oh I can't thank you enough uncle Orange! I'm ready to try anythin' this big ol' city has to offer. Matter of fact, I want to try everythin' I can."

She took a step back, whipped some tourist brochures out of somewhere (her bow Parfait figured) and spread them open on the tile floor. "Just look at all the ways you could earn a cutie mark 'round here: Bein' snooty in art galleries, tryin' to figure out weird theater, complainin' about fancy restaurant food, ridin' on the roof of a trolley car, buskin', panhandlin', bein' a con artist…"

"Well I'm glad to see you've been doing some research," said Orange Mimosa as she joined the conversation with another titter, but more uncomfortable this time. She was alarmed to note from a peek at the brochures that some of them really did draw attention to the unsavory activities her niece had mentioned. "I hope you don't mind if we give you some, ah, firm guidance in setting up your agenda for the week."

"Sure, an' you can help me understand what some of these words mean too!"

"Ahem, in time, yes. And as a special treat you don't have to worry about this afternoon's entertainment. We've already taken the liberty of planning a special surprise for you and your cousin."

Apple Bloom's eyes lit up (and grew disturbingly large in her uncle's estimation). "Really!? What is it?"

Gottfried's critical voice chimed in. "What part of 'surprise' don't you understand?"

Apple Bloom's excitement faltered a little and she shot him an over-the-shoulder look of budding annoyance. He was holding the still struggling fly in his claws.

"Now now Gottfried," said Orange Mimosa. "We do not sharpen our wit at the expense of family. That's what acquaintances are for. Why don't you show Apple Bloom your room and where she will be staying?"

Gottfried threw the fly into his beak, swallowed it, and started heading for his room without bother to check if Apple Bloom was following. His mother's meaningful cough made him stop, roll his eyes, and circle round to go pick up the filly's saddlebags in his beak. "Right this way mademoiselle," he mumbled darkly around the handle. As he brushed past Apple Bloom he made sure to flare his wings a little and stand taller, reminding her of the size difference.

For her part, Apple bloom's frown darkened as she followed. "Mighty kind of you sir," she shot back.

Once the children were out of sight the Oranges went to work cleaning the last of Gottfried's mess, exchanging worried looks the whole time.

"Are you still sure bringing our innocent niece into this was a good idea?" asked Orange Parfait while mopping up the puddle of juice next to the table with a monogrammed napkin.

Orange Mimosa grimaced at the grease stains she had just found on the bottom of the curtain. "The Holistic Guide to Sensitive Cross Cultural Adoption says that when dealing with a child who rejects her or his new environment other children can serve as crucial ambassadors for our way of life. Since he has been banned from socializing with his classmates in the wake of the 'play house in the oven' incident we don't have much choice, do we? I mean, nothing else is working."

Parfait looked unconvinced and increasingly guilty. Mimosa came over to nuzzle him reassuringly. "Don't fret, the Apples are a rustic, hardened breed, and they manage uncooperative brutes for a living. If it helps you rest easy, remember that you're paying for her entire stay this week. She's practically an employee if you think of it that way, and it is par for the course for employees to face slightly hostile situations."

---

Gottfried picked up his toy crossbow and loaded it with the stolen fork he had been sharpening earlier. It wasn't a perfect fit, but close enough. He tested it by aiming at the eye of the already vandalized Sapphire Shores poster taped to the back of his bedroom door.

*SPRING* shhhhh-THUNK

Sapphire Shores had sprouted a fork from her cheek. So, he would have to aim a little higher than his intended target. No problem.

"Wow, you got some premium lookin' toys in here," said Apple Bloom.

He turned to see she had finished laying out the simple contents of her saddlebags on the folding bed that had been provided for her and was trotting around the piles of playthings that littered the floor. "I know colts and fillies back in Ponyville who'd trade kin for some of these."

Gottfried pulled the fork out of the poster, ripping off most Sapphire's face in the process. "Eh, they're ok I guess, but they don't have the kind of features I'm after."

"Oh, like what?"

He reloaded the crossbow with the fork and aimed it at her. "Like a pulse to stop."

"Whoa, hey, watch it!" she shouted, and dove for cover behind a Cloudsdale Weather Factory playset.

"Relax, scaredy-filly. I wouldn't shoot you."

Apple Bloom cautiously stuck her head around the Rainbow Dispensing Tower (trademarked 'Rain-Dough' sold separately) to glare at him. "Well I know that, but what if you accidentally –"

*SPRING*

The force of the fork catching her mane bow yanked her off her hooves and threw her against the dresser. There she hung, suspended an inch above the floor, pinned to the wood by her own accessory.

"Are you outta your apple-pickin' mind!?" she yelled.

Gottfried reloaded the crossbow with another fork. "See? I didn't shoot you. This time."

"You'd better help me down an' apologize if you know what's good for you," said Apple Bloom, her front legs crossed for emphasis.

Gottfried marched over so that their faces were a hoof apart and held the crossbow up menacingly. "Was that a threat? You don't seem to understand how the natural order works around here. I'm a griffon. That means my ancestors hunted your ancestors for barbeque, so tough talk isn't going to work here little filly."

Unfazed, Apple Bloom swung and kicked the underside of the crossbow in just the right place. The loaded fork popped backward, blunt end first, into Gottfried's eye, causing him to let go of the weapon and stumble away.

"Ow!"

Applebloom caught the crossbow with both hooves and used the tip of its limb to pull out the fork that had pinned her. Once on the ground she tipped the fork out of her mane bow, into the weapon's loading mechanism, and used her teeth to pull the string back into a locked and ready position. By the time Gottfried was done rubbing his eye he was looking at the business end of his own dangerous contraption, held up by a smirking little filly.

"I don't need tough talk," said Apple Bloom. "Tough action's enough." Her point proven, she tossed the crossbow aside.

For a moment the griffon cub was too flabbergasted to respond. Then he smirked back. "Ok, sounds like somebody needs a little humbling. Let's do this."

Suddenly he leapt into the air, using his wings to complete a back flip into a pile of mutilated stuffed animals near his chariot-shaped bed. Before Apple Bloom could figure out what was going on he had emerged with some sort of strange tube-like toy which started firing a rapid volley of plastic balls in her direction. The first one caught her in the chest, causing her to gasp as the breath was knocked out of her. The second one knocked one of her legs out from under her, dropping her flat on her face. The third left a stinging welt on her flank that showed up red through her fur.

"How do you like that for a cutie mark?" said Gottfried. "Come on, let's see what you're made of, hayseed."

Apple Bloom slid along the carpet Sweetie Belle style, zigzagging around his multicolored barrage to take cover behind an oversized toy train. She peeked straight through the parallel windows of one of the passenger cars to get a better look at his position, then scanned the area around her for something to fight back with. A frisbee decorated to look like an orange fit the bill nicely.

Gottfried scoffed as the frisbee flew out from behind the train at an angle much too high to hit him. "Ha, nice aim Appleloosa Annie! You –"

The heavy griffon mobile that had been hanging over his head came crashing down, slamming his beak shut on his tongue.

"Wasn't aimin' for you, city slicker," said Apple Bloom. She was now riding the train straight toward him, using her tail to spin a length of skipping rope that she had fashioned into a lasso over her head. "You ready ta cry uncle, or am I gonna have to truss you up first?"

Gottfried reached behind him to wrap his claws around the wiffle bat he knew was there. "I have not yet begun to play,,,"

---

The afternoon wore on with a seemingly endless exchange of attack and counter attack, parry and riposte, insult and juvenile retort. It was tennis racket versus building blocks, miniature catapults versus oversized clockwork dragon, water guns versus huge jar of novelty gross-out ooze. Though the griffon had the size advantage and knew the terrain better, the pony held her own with down-home dirty tricks and a fighting spirit that never failed to take him by surprise. In the chaos of it all they slammed into every piece of furniture in the room and managed to hit the ceiling a few times too. Scratches, bruises, welts and black eyes were dealt out liberally. In the living room the Oranges looked up several times from their double copies of the Fence Street Journal, eyebrows raised in concern over the racket, but since no one screamed for help they tried not to assume the worse.

Even the frenetic energy of children has its limits, and eventually Gottfried found himself catching his breath in the outstretched arms of an enormous ursa major stuffed toy while an equally exhausted Apple Bloom sat on the overturned folding bed, carefully examining her flank.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Checkin' t0 see if I earned my cutie mark for whoopin' your tail feathers good."

"Ha, if you get any kind of cutie mark it'll be for losing."

"Nuh-uh! Face it mighty hunter, you got bearded by an amateur."

Gottfried spun in the arms of the ursa major to get a better look at her. "Wait, are you saying that was your first fight?"

Applebloom held her aching head and its torn pink ribbon high. "More or less, not countin' friendly roughhousin' an' martial arts lessons. I'm not the rowdy type for the most part, but I wasn't about to let you sass me like that. I learned the hard way not to let folks get away with it."

Gottfried put up a talon and opened his beak to object, but then thought better of it. He let his worn out body slide limply out of the ursa major's arms, onto the floor, then walked over to her and offered his claw for a shake. "Alright, a real hunter isn't afraid to admit to mistakes. Sorry for being a creep. You've got spunk for a little pony."

Apple Bloom accepted the peace offering with a firm hoof and a big smile. "Don't worry 'bout it, we had fun in the end and I learned a lot. How about a rematch tomorrow, only with less runnin' into things and hitting each other in the face with stuff?"

"You're on! It's too bad you're only here for a week. I don't know where I'm going to find another pony like you. I heard Manehattan was tough, but so far this whole city looks like it's full of nothing but softies like the Oranges."

Apple Bloom was puzzled by his tone. "You mean your mom and dad?"

Gottfried sneered. "I mean the Oranges. They haven't earned the right to be called my parents."

Apple Bloom looked up at the oval framed photo of her aunt and uncle hanging from the wall, noticing that it had been crudely vandalized with crayons to make them look like frightened rabbits. "I don't understand. They've given you love, a roof over your head, more toys than you can find time to play with an' kin to look out for you. What more can you need?"

Gottfried winged his way onto the top of his chariot bed's backboard and gestured grandiosely at the poster hanging above it: a hardened looking flock of griffons flying over a desert, their eyes all fixed menacingly on something off the left edge of the frame. "I need a real challenge. I need danger and a life on the edge, like my ancestors had, not tofu and bow ties!"

"You sure 'bout that? Granny Smith says folks had best not go lookin' for trouble since life was going to bring more than enough of it right to 'em."

"Hmph, I think it's more like choosing what kind of trouble you get into. If I listen to them I'll grow up with boring old business trouble and I'll always have to worry about making good impressions on snooty coward ponies. To the moon with that, I'm going to be a hunter when I grow up, and if ponies don't like it then who needs them?"

"Have you told your par- uh, my aunt and uncle how you feel?"

Gottfried jumped down to face her again. "They don't want to hear it. You've seen how 'civilized' they are. They never do anything edgy."

The bedroom door swung open, revealing Orange Parfait. "Who's ready to go see the controversial new Nightmare Moon museum!?" he asked triumphantly. Then he saw the bruises and the state of the room. "Heavens, what have you been doing in here!?"

"Whoa, is that really the surprise!?" asked Gottfried, ignoring the second question. Suspicion struggled with excitement for space on his face.

Orange Mimosa pushed into the doorway and bit her lip in concern at the sight of Apple Bloom in all her mussed up glory. "Are you alright dear?" she asked her niece.

"I was 'til I found out Nightmare Moon was the surprise," she replied. "Not that I want to sound ungrateful or anythin'." Pipsqueak and Pinkie Pie's assurances aside, the princess still made her uneasy after all the mixed messages she sent during the most recent Nightmare Night (and according to Pinkie Pie that was somehow the point).

Mimosa breathed a little easier, but still shot her son a quick stern look. "Don't let your uncle mislead you with his melodrama," she said while elbowing her husband. "He should know better than to mislabel things like that. It's actually a new planetarium generously gifted to the city by Princess Luna. The Nightmare Moon exhibit is just a small part of it, and it's only controversial to those conservative busybodies in the Fence Street Journal."

"What's a planter rayon?" asked Apple Bloom.

"We're not entirely sure," admitted Mimosa, "but it's all the rage in sophisticated high society these days. We'll find out soon enough. Now, let's make you both more, er, presentable for our excursion, shall we?"

Gottfried groaned. "What did I tell you A.B.? Here comes the bow tie. Still, it's almost worth it to go see the museum of the cannibal princess. Almost. I hear she celebrated the opening with a public execution."

"Don't say scurrilous things like that about your monarch," said Orange Parfait. He then pulled the dreaded accessory out of a drawer and began the difficult process of cornering his son long enough to slip it on.

"They're both going to need brushes and icepacks as well," commented Orange Mimosa as she loosened her more cooperative niece's bow in preparation for grooming. "It looks like you two had quite a morning. Dare I ask if you are getting along well?"

Apple Bloom gave her cousin a sly wink, which he returned after ducking under Orange Parfait fifth attempt to lasso him with the bow tie. "I reckon we've got an understandin' now," she said.

---

THE NIGHTMARE GALLERY IS CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE DUE TO NONFUNCTIONING ALARMS. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.

"Aw, horse feathers!" whined Gottfried after reading the sign in the planetarium's great glass-roofed lobby.

"I suppose we shall just have to return for another visit," said Orange Parfait.

"At least we can still see the planet-thingy," added Apple Bloom, somewhat relieved.

---

It took the magical efforts of two hidden unicorns to operate the great pillar-shaped machine that was slowly spinning and rotating into position under the dome of the planetarium. Apple Bloom had never seen anything like it, and most of the elite ponies who could afford to be sitting in the circular room with her at that moment were just as awed. There was also an undercurrent of apprehension in the politely hushed conversations she could hear from her back row seat. She was glad to know she wasn't the only one.

"Looking a little more yellow than usual there A.B." whispered Gottfried in a mocking tone. He was seated between her and the exit aisle. "What happened to the brave filly who trash talked me earlier?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Go on and laugh. I don't rest easy 'round anything that has to do with the princess, and you wouldn't either if you'd seen her come outta nowhere in a flash of lightning and threaten to eat you!"

"Did that really happen?" He seemed impressed.

"Hush children," said Orange Mimosa, who was seated on the other side of Apple Bloom. "I believe they are about to start."

The house lights dimmed, the great machine burst into luminescent life, and gradually the dome turned into a near perfect replica of Equestria's night sky. Everypony gasped.

A pre-recorded narration began playing, and Apple Bloom was only half-surprised when she recognized Twilight Sparkle's voice. "Welcome to the Manehattan Planetarium, brought to you by the generosity of Princess Luna. In the course of the next forty five minutes you will be taken on a journey into the history, mysteries, and complexities of one of Equestria's most magnificent yet under-appreciated wonders: the night sky."

Apple Bloom wasn't sure what impressed her more, the machine and all of its elaborate moving parts or the spectacle of shifting, spinning, growing and vanishing constellations that it brought to life above her. Twilight's pedantic lecture faded to the back of her awareness as her head spun from the enormity of the heavens unfolding in her inexperienced mind. She felt intimidated, but not in an entirely bad way. Had she been inclined to look at the older ponies around her she might have noticed that most of them wore expressions of uncouth primal awe they would have quickly denied in fine company.

Somewhere around the ten minute mark she heard Gottfried groan with disappointment. He had let his body slide halfway to the floor, and his whisper of protest came from the bottom of his seat. "It's just a stupid school lesson with flashing lights. I'm not going to learn anything that matters from this. Time to fly the coop. I'm sneaking into the Nightmare Night exhibit. Follow me if you're in." He then slid the rest of the way out of his seat and stealthily made his way toward the exit.

"Wait!" said Apple Bloom a little too loudly. Her aunt shushed her without looking away from the spellbinding show.

"But Aunt Orange -"

"Do not make a scene dear," whispered her aunt sternly.

"But -"

"Later!"

Apple Bloom watched helplessly as her cousin's tail disappeared through the black curtained exit door behind a guard pony who was just as distracted as everyone else by the astral ballet unwinding above him.

She now had a decision to make. On the one hoof she could stay put, enjoy the show, and let the griffon suffer the consequences of his actions. On the other hoof she would feel less guilty if she at least tried to talk him out of serious trouble, and she figured she could be back in her seat in five minutes, tops, if she acted soon enough. Eventually it was the thought of her aunt and uncle and how Applejack had described their dislike of being publicly embarrassed that made up her mind. She repeated the griffon's stealthy maneuvering and exited the theater.

The gently curved hallway outside was eerily dim, something that her aunt had described as unnatural on their way in given that it was still mid-afternoon outside. It was also mostly deserted, which wasn't surprising since it was mostly a holding area for the crowds waiting for the hourly show and the next one wasn't starting for a while.

There was no sign of fast-moving Gottfried. Apple Bloom cussed a dainty little cuss. Her odds of getting in trouble were going up, and she briefly considered returning to her seat. When her resolve returned she scanned the arrow signs on the wall and trotted in the direction indicated for the Nightmare Gallery.

She soon found herself in a larger hallway that was somehow even dimmer, and the only other pony she saw was a unicorn security guard sneaking a salt lick in a shadowy corner. She easily snuck around him using a life-sized replica of a comet for cover.

Had she been a unicorn, and therefore attuned to the ebb and flow of magic, she would have understood the reason for the dimness in that part of the building when she arrived at the Nightmare Gallery. As it was, the only clue she had that something unnatural was at work was the way the fur all along her back pricked up.

The entrance to the gallery was a towering rectangle of darkness, flanked on both sides by grim pillars whose bases were sculpted to look like a parade of grotesque little creatures she hoped were imaginary. The pillars were in turn flanked by long tapestries that depicted Nightmare Moon rearing up triumphantly against a background of dark hearted stars, with somber rows of ponies bowing before her. One of the princess's new royal mottos, apparently adopted after a recent epiphany, had been carved into the stone above the yawning darkness:

Fear is sufficient,

but love is preferred.

Both of Apple Bloom's pairs of knees were knocking. She folded herself onto the cold tiles and closed her eyes. "Come on you scaredy-filly," she said to herself, "it's just some badly-lit rooms with harmless old stuff in 'em. Applejack wouldn't be shakin' like this, no siree."

She heard the approaching clicks of the guard's hooves around the corner behind her. No time left for hesitation. She rushed through the entrance, passing under the red rope with the "Do Not Enter" sign that had been strung across it at adult height.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the near darkness. The only sources of light were tiny spheres embedded in the floor along the walls of the gallery that gave off a weak blue-green glow. The first thing to grab her attention was a tall sandwich board sign which said the following:

WARNING

Some of these artifacts are dangerous.

Do NOT touch them.

Do NOT expose them to bright light.

Do NOT use magic on or near them.

Do NOT speak the names 'Nightmare Moon' or 'Princess Luna' three times in a row.

Enjoy your visit!

The next thing she noticed was a diamond dog pouncing right at her.

She had backed all the way into the wall and nearly screamed before realizing the vicious creature was actually just a sculpture. Relieved and feeling silly, she stepped around it to get to the rest of the gallery. As she did so, she read the plaque at the diamond dog's feet:

DIAMOND DOG TURNED TO STONE FOR INSUBORDINATION DURING NIGHTMARE MOON'S ASCENDANCY (CRIMES REVIEWED, PAROLE DENIED)

That didn't sound reassuring. She tried to keep her eyes down from that point onward, glancing up occasionally to look for a griffon's silhouette in the shadows of the high gallery and calling his name at half volume. She couldn't help but glimpse fragments of plaques as she passed them:

... GREAT BAT OF TROTTINGHAM, WHICH TERRORIZED...

... DARK CAULDRON THAT NIGHTMARE MOON USED TO...

... ALL THAT REMAINS OF THE TOWN OF CHEVAUCHÉE...

... STARS THAT WATCHED AND WHISPERED...

... CAUSES YEARS OF BAD DREAMS UNLESS...

"Boo," said Gottfried from somewhere just above and behind her ear.

Apple Bloom leapt straight into the air and took the low hanging decorative curtain she found there in a shivering death grip. Gottfried flew around to point and laugh. Once she realized what was going on she tried to swing toward him for a kick, but he dodged it easily.

"I'm gonna cream you later for that," she said, hoping bluster could hide her embarrassment, and let herself fall to the floor. "This isn't a place for jokes. I coulda run and bumped into some dangerous evil thing."

"I know, isn't it great?" he asked, then flew in a circle around the section of the gallery they were in. "Just look at this stuff. Spiky chains, shadow-stealing machines, armor covered in knives that have knives on them and... Whoa!"

He had stopped in front of what looked like a basketball sized sphere of swirling purple murk floating magically a few inches above a plinth of twisted grey metal. Instead of a plaque it had a simple mouthwritten cardboard sign hanging near it:

DANGER

We're removing and storing this exhibit.

Don't do ANYTHING to it unless the princess is here!

"Uh, you probably shouldn't fly so close to that," said Apple Bloom after reading the sign.

"I think I can see tiny creatures in there! Wait, it's like a whole weird city of creatures! Or maybe a mountain. A mountain-city?"

"Right, that's great. Look, we're gonna get into a heap of trouble if we don't get back to the planet-thingy soon."

"You know, I need more light to figure out what this is. Ah, there we go."

He flew up to gallery's high ceiling, zeroing in on a single thin beam of weak sunlight that was coming in from the outside world. He began tugging at the thick drape that had been very securely pinned over what must have been a window. "I'll open this just long enough to get a better look."

"Gottfried wait, the sign said no bright -"

Sunlight cut through the gallery's supernatural darkness like a torch through cobwebs. The shadow stealing machine crumbled to dust instantly upon exposure. A few other artifacts simply faded out of existence. The outer surface of the sphere of murk seemed to peel away like a balloon bursting in slow motion, releasing a larger swirling cloud of dark purple mist with a heart like a black hole.

"Huh!?" exclaimed Gottfried upon seeing the effects of his vandalism.

"Did you even read the warnin' signs!?" shouted Apple Bloom, already trying to calculate how long she might be grounded for getting mixed up in all of this.

"Well yeah, but I thought that was just grown ups being way too careful, as usual." Then the scope of what was happening hit him. "We better get out of here and keep quiet about this."

"Oh no, I can't lie about somethin' this big. We're gonna -"

"Look!"

A tiny creature, about the size of an apple, was pulling itself out over the edge of the hole at the center of the swirling cloud. It fell to the floor below with a slightly wet sound and a satisfied squeak. It had a spindly blue lizard body, a single black eye with a white pupil at the center, and a wide mouth with a distinct under-bite lined with chunky tusks.

"Uh… hi?" said Apple Bloom.

The creature ignored her completely, and scampered toward a display case full of sinister statuettes next to her.

Gottfried flew down to take a closer look at it. "Ever seen anything like it before?"

The creature had climbed up to the protective glass of the display case. In one quick motion it used its miniscule clawed finger to cut a loose disk in the glass, which it pushed out of the way with a snap to gain access to the case's contents.

"Hey!" said Apple Bloom to the creature as it sized up one of the statuettes. "You better not be thinkin' what I think you're thinkin'. We're in enough trouble right now."

Sure enough, it picked up the statuette and ran back to the hole in the glass. Gottfried blocked that exit with his talon. "Maybe we can blame the mess on this guy. They might even forgive us for catching- ouch!"

The creature had bitten him. He yanked his talon away from the hole, flinging the creature and its stolen statuette out of the case in the process. They both sailed through the air to land at the foot of the plinth that held up the swirling purple cloud. There the two children saw the thief was no longer alone. A dozen identical creatures had emerged from the hole and were appraising the room around them.

In the heat of rising panic Apple Bloom's corralling instinct kicked in, and she tried to run around the newcomers to keep them in place and stop the crime spree she was sure was about to begin. "Help me throw 'em back in or somethin'," she said.

Gottfried grinned wickedly. "Wonder what they taste like," he said, then dove right into the middle of the cluster of creatures. The impact scattered several of them beyond Apple Bloom's reach, causing her to groan in frustration. The griffon cub held up two of his prizes. "Which one do you think I should eat first?"

Three of the creatures jumped on his tail and bit it. He screamed and reflexively tried to fly away, but two more creatures latched on to his wing and prevented take off. He started frantically rolling away from the plinth in an effort to shake them off. Some of the other creatures followed his retreat, angling to pile on, while the rest took advantage of Apple Bloom's shock to run past her and begin robbing the gallery.

"Get them off of me!" shouted Gottfried. He kicked and lashed out at his attackers, but their numbers kept increasing. It looked like they were going to pick him up and carry him as a team. Apple Bloom tried to rush to his rescue, but even more of the creatures had arrived through the mysterious hole and they surged in front of her like a net closing in. It was clear they were going to grab her too if she couldn't find a more effective way of fending them off.

She looked around the gallery for some kind of shield, or weapon, or anything that could…

BRACELET OF SPACE-DARKENED METAL GIVEN TO THE DRAGON ORM'QU'DTHIRVUNT FOR LOYAL SERVICE TO NIGHTMARE MOON

It was hanging from an ordinary hook in the wall, and although it was too big for anything less than a house-sized monster to wear, it was just the right scale for her purposes. She leapt up and kicked the thin-edged spiky bracelet loose, letting it fall to the ground between her and the incoming tide of creatures.

"I may not be the champion anymore," she said as she put one hoof in the circumference of the bracelet, "but I'll bet I can still loop-de-hoop you so bad you'll be beggin' to go back to wherever you came from."

A flick of the hoof set the bracelet in motion. She spun it around one leg while the other three skipped over its passage. With a squelching sound the creatures slowed down to a halt, trying to figure out what the strange spectacle was leading up to. With precise timing and coordination she switched the bracelet-hoop first to one leg, then another, then to her waist, then to her neck, then (with a toss) to her tail, maintaining its speed and spin the whole time. "Still got it! Shucks, why can't I get a real cutie mark for this?"

Had she been a unicorn, or even just a little more honest with herself, she would have noted that something in the bracelet itself was giving her a boost.

Two of the creatures pounced at her. With a quick whirl of the bracelet she sent them flying. "Alright, ready to rodeo?"

They surged toward her en-masse. Almost In a trance she began a dance of spinning punishment that set the bracelet alight with a hazy green glow of supernatural power.

Spin. THWACK. Switch to front leg. Twirl. THWACK. Switch to back leg. Twist. THWACK. Switch to waist. Surprise! Block and switch to tail. THWACK.

They came at her from the side; she swept their feet right out from under them. They came at her from the back; she threw the bracelet into the lot of them with enough force that it bounces back into her ready teeth. They ran up the walls and tried to fall on top of her; she jumped up to meet them in mid-air with a tornado of green light that would have made Rainbow Dash proud.

"Apple Bloom!" shouted Gottfried.

She looked over and saw that he was losing his own fight. While he pulled the creatures off of himself in great talonfulls there always seemed to be more spilling on to him from every direction. He was gradually getting pulled backward by their mass, toward the swirling midair hole only a few feet away. It was clear from the wet shimmer of his eyes that the mighty hunter was long gone. "Please, don't let them take me!"

She barreled over to him like a wheel full of firecrackers, knocking aside everything in her path, but the bracelet was approaching the limit of its usefulness. There were just too many creatures pouring in, and a steady stream of gallery artifacts was vanishing into the hole. Even as she helped him flick off his attackers they were starting to grasp at her mane and tail.

"This way," she said when he was free enough to follow. She began sweeping a path toward the gallery entrance.

"Look out!" he cried.

A mound of the creatures rose up like a geyser and snatched the bracelet off her tail. Without its extra reach and power she began losing ground. She bucked and kicked with all her might, but they soon weighed down her legs and covered her back. A mass of lizard-like limbs blotted out her vision.

Just as all hope seemed lost she heard the thunder of incoming hooves. At least a dozen adult ponies had arrived.

"In Celestia's name, they've got the children!" said her uncle's voice.

"Well then charge!" shouted a voice so ferocious Apple Bloom almost didn't recognize it as her aunt's.

Things got crazier. The creatures' high pitched shrieks were punctuated by the percussion of hooves and the wet plop of tiny bodies flying into things. Apple Bloom was lifted off the ground and placed on someone's back. For a moment hope welled up in her, but then a security guard's panicked voice cut it down. "They've blocked all our exits!"

With a firm push of her hoof Apple Bloom swept the creatures off her face and looked upon the desperate scene. The gallery was filled by a carpet of creatures that rose up to an adult pony's knees. They were all over the walls too, practically dripping off the curtains. Gottfried was still fighting from on top of his aunt's back as she was hauled toward the hole. One of the security guards and several museum patrons who had come as reinforcements to the rescue were also being carried off.

Apple Bloom looked up at her uncle, whose back she was riding on. He was too busy fending off the unstoppable waves of creatures to see the tears in her eyes.

"FOALS!" boomed a reverberating voice that filled the entire gallery and stopped everyone and everything in mid-motion. The rays of sunlight disappeared, instantly replaced by something like moonlight. In unison the creatures began wailing in a manner that must have indicated fear.

"HOW SIMPLE DO WE HAVE TO MAKE OUR INSTRUCTIONS TO ENSURE YOU FECKLESS CRETINS DO NOT DESTROY YOURSELVES!?"

The princess of the night descended from above on slow wing beats, eyes glowing with fury. The wail of the creatures rose to an even more unbearable pitch, but escape seemed impossible for them. They simply waited, frozen in place, as Luna landed in the middle of the scene. Her horn blazed with magic, and almost as if they had been turned to liquid and stripped of their gravity the creatures, all the creatures, began to spiral toward her through the air. They gathered into an enormous, dark and featureless spinning cloud above the Princesses' head.

"YOU MORTALS ARE FORTUNATE THAT WE SENSED THIS BREACH IN OUR REALM AND CAME TO INVESTIGATE…"

Apple Bloom watched in uncomprehending horror as the cloud of creatures actually swirled down into the princess's horn until there was nothing left of it.

"… BUT WOE TO WHOEVER IS RESPONSIBLE FOR IT."

Luna stepped over to the hole and plunged her horn into its darkness. There was a flash of black lightning, then, in an instant, all was calm. The murky sphere once again levitated above its metal plinth.

"Next time you try that we will do much worse," said Luna at half-volume, apparently to the sphere. She turned to confront her cowering subjects in the stark glow of her moonlight. "WE DEMAND AN EXPLANATION."

The guards began to babble piteous excuses, but Gottfried stepped forward and they fell silent. There was no swagger in his shaky steps, and his face bore the blankness of shock. He stopped before the princess, bowed unsteadily, and said, "I did this. It's all my fault. I disobeyed my parents, didn't listen to my cousin, and ignored every warning." His voice betrayed how close he was to tears.

Princess Luna's wings shot open. "THE CUSTOMARY PUNISHMENT FOR RECKLESSLY ENDANGERING THE FABRIC OF EQUESTRIA IS EXTREMELY HARSH."

Apple Bloom gasped. The Oranges rushed to their son's side. "But he's just a cub your majesty," said Orange Mimosa.

"As his parents it was our responsibility to raise him better," added Orange Parfait. "Let us pay the price instead of him."

Mimosa nodded in assent.

The princess turned her white hot eyes on the couple, and they shrank back involuntarily. Then she lowered her head for a moment. When she raised it once more her eyes were normal, and her expression mildly embarrassed. "That particular punishment shall not be meted out this day," she said at a normal volume. "For in truth we... I bear some of the blame as well. I should never have allowed something like the orb to be put on display as a vulgar attraction. In my arrogant haste to win over the public by being..." she paused to find the new words, "by being 'edgy' and 'cool', I have once again erred."

The Oranges looked relieved, but Gottfried stayed tense, waiting for the other horseshoe to drop. The princess's demeanor turned cold once more as she continued, "But given the scale of this disaster a lesser punishment is still necessary, griffon cub. What is your name?"

"Gottfried," he said, and after a second he added, "Orange."

The princess considered him for a moment, and then bellowed her judgment. "GOTTFRIED ORANGE, YOU HAVE ENDANGERED THE LIVES OF YOUR LOVED ONES AND INNOCENT BYSTANDERS, AND CAUSED THE LOSS OF A GREAT DEAL OF PROPERTY. SINCE WE MUST NOW PERSONALLY RETRIEVE WHAT WAS TAKEN, WE SENTENCE YOU TO SERVE AS OUR ASSISTANT DURING OUR JOURNEY INTO THE HORRIFYING DIMENSION OF THE ORB. THERE YOU SHALL WITNESS THE FATE YOU NEARLY INFLICTED UPON YOURSELF AND THESE PONIES, AND WE CAN SAY WITH ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY THAT THE LESSON YOU SHALL LEARN WILL STAY WITH YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. BE READY FOR OUR DEPARTURE AT MIDNIGHT IN EXACTLY THIRTEEN DAYS."

Then, without further fanfare, the princess flew out the hole in the ceiling she had apparently torn open to enter through.

Gottfried's legs buckled and he fell to the floor, crying in a mixture of shock, relief and dread. The Oranges crouched down on either side of him and placed their heads on his neck and back. For the first time in months he did not squirm away from their touch. Apple Bloom joined them.

For a while they just sat there in silence, content to share the joy of being safe and alive. The other museum patrons left to spread the wild story, and the museum guards kept a respectful distance – there would be plenty of time later for tough questions.

Eventually Apple Bloom snuck a peek at her flank, only to find the same old disappointing blank. "Aw horse feathers, you've got to kill yourself to get a cutie mark in this town!"

---

(Five days later…)

Apple Bloom adjusted the skull print bandana Sweetie Belle had given her for the talent show many months ago and began mentally composing the letter:

(Dear Princess Celestia,

This week I learned that living dangerously and playing by your own rules can seem pretty cool as long as you're lucky, but when luck runs out it's real nice to -)

*SPRING* shhhhh-PLOP

A crossbow bolt with a rubber suction cup on the end slammed into the ground in front of her, its shaft vibrating from the impact. She jumped away, but only-half startled; the attack had been expected this time. "I thought you promised no more dirty tricks," she said with a sly smile as she looked up at Gottfried.

"I did," said the griffon as he flew over her and around the great balloon mooring antenna of the Equestria State Building, the highest point in Manehattan. "That was a warning shot."

"Shootin' at unarmed folk is dirty too." Apple Bloom galloped to hide behind her aunt and uncle, who were busy enjoying the view from the building's breathtaking observation deck.

"Hey, no pony shields," laughed Gottfried, flying over to try and spot his cousin. "Who's using dirty tricks now, huh?"

*SPRING* shhhhh- "oof!"

Suddenly, a crossbow bolt hit him square in the gut and sent him tumbling to the deck like punctured balloon. He was still lying in a crumpled heap of shock when he looked up to see Apple Bloom's smug face and skull print bandana framed by the sun and the anchored balloons.

"I seem to recall that you were the only one who actually made that promise," she said. A brand new toy crossbow was slung over her back.

"Where did you get that?" he gasped. "You didn't have it a second ago. Wait, did they…"

He rolled up to a seated position and looked at his parents, who chuckled mischievously. His beak fell open as he grasped the treachery they were capable of. Then he grinned. "Why you no good… just you wait till you let your guard down!"

He leapt back into the air and vanished into the mass of balloons and pegasus tourists in preparation for his next ambush. Apple Bloom kept an eye out for him and continued to plan her letter:

(… but when luck runs out it's real nice to have friends and family looking out for you…)

END