Life came in flashes. The conquering of Equestria. The bright light. That indescribable pressure coming from the duality of the feelings of ecstasy and fullness clashing with that of pain coming from extreme amounts of energy and being forced out of the city. Being flung through the sky. Coming down into the river. Being swept along the current. Banging against the rocks. Lungs burning. Pain. Fear. Gasping for air, only to find water. And finally, blackness. For the briefest moment, life again. Blurs of colors, then blackness again.

The changeling grunted, shifting softly. The very fact that he was alive was a small miracle that had not escaped his notice. Making his body as still as possible, he took stock of everything that he could. His armor was missing and he was starving. He began testing his limbs. Back right, back left, Fron-

Upon moving his front right leg, he gave out a shout of pain. He clutched the limb in question to his chest as his body curled inwards. When he yelled, he heard a startled shriek answer him from not far away. Opening his eyes, he took in his surroundings. He was on a soft object, obviously made for two beings. While it was strangely plushy, it was also very comfortable. The walls were tan and wooden, with thin rails and circular windows. There was a fireplace with a photo and a potted plant above it. On the green floor before him, lying on a green cushion was a very startled looking, butter-yellow pegasus po-

Pony!? The changeling shot up, willing his body to shift into a different form, only to stop with another shout of pain as soon as his foreleg hit the object he was laying on. The pony was immediately by his side.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Please, be careful.” Her gentle voice rang with genuine concern, concern that was immediately ignored by the frantic changeling. He looked to his foreleg, which still sang with pain. On the limb in question, a bandage had been wrapped, where a soft red was beginning to stain the cloth. “Oh no, see there? You’ve re-opened your wound. Here, let me tend to it…” The pony reached out, moving to grasp his hoof. The changeling snatched his hoof back, only to grind his teeth in pain. With a firm grip, the pony took his hoof, her eyes hardening as she looked him straight in the eye. “Now see here.” She snapped. “You need to be careful. If you keep acting like this, you’re really going to hurt yourself. Now, hold still.” Slowly, she began to unravel the bandages, revealing the rather large crack in his exoskeleton. As the pony replaced the bandages, the changeling finally spoke.

“Why?” He hissed, looking at the pony working on his leg. The yellow pony stopped and looked up, still holding his foreleg with a tender yet somehow firm grip.

“Hm?” Her eyes, the changeling noticed, were different from when she first woke. While they still held kindness and tenderness, there was a focus to them not unlike a soldier in the swarm. “W-What do you mean?”

“Why…” The words came slow to the changeling, still recovering from…however long he’d been out. “Why…why are you…helping me…?” He wheezed out, his voice unlike anything the pony had ever heard. The only way she could describe his voice was that it sounded as if his voice had metallic echo to it. The pony before him smiled softly.

“Oh silly,” she began, resuming her work on his open wound. “You were, and still are, in need. You’re hurt, and need help. So I’m helping…”

“But….what do you get for it? Do you intend to…return me…to Canterlot?” The Changeling eyed the kind pony, suspicion emanating from him. He couldn't imagine this much kindness being given to him so freely, even amongst his own. Not that his people were unkind, but in the harsh environment that was the swarm, nothing was free.

"Why would I do that?" She asked, seeming honestly confused. "I don't need to 'get' anything to help somepony. It's..." The pony stopped, seeming at a loss for words for a moment. Then she smiled, giving a slight chuckle. "Why, it's just the kind thing to do." The Changeling watched her, his trained eyes taking in every detail of her movements. Her hooves worked diligently, careful, but well-honed from years of practice. She moved so fluidly, and her body radiated with a simple joy, some worry, and more than a little fear. However, these weren't the signs of somepony holding a hostage; the changeling didn't need any sense but his eyes to tell him that. His eyes traveled to her smile, which told him more than his sixth sense for emotion ever could. The smile was genuine, lighting up the room, and nearly glowing with pure kindness. It was a far cry from the love his body so desperately craved, but it was still miraculous in its simplicity. Still, the changeling hadn't lived as long as he had, gotten to where he was, by being naive.

"There, all done!" The pony announced, stepping back. The re-bandaging hadn't even stung. In fact, he hadn't even noticed she'd finished. "So what do you think Mr. Changeling? Does it hurt at all?" She asked, moving her head just slightly towards him. The motion seemed subdued from both her own worry, and, if he wasn't mistaken, from her want to not scare him. He moved the limb, testing the limitations of the bandaged appendage. The wrapping felt top notch and, with the exception of the slight stiffness that was to be expected, he had full range of motion. Of course, he still couldn't put any weight on the limb. He looked at the bandage, then back to the pony. He sighed.

"It's fine...you're...very good at what you do..." She seemed pleased with the answer, and went about cleaning up the area and putting away the supplies. Silence filled the cottage for a moment, before the changeling spoke up again.

"Thank you...and...my name is...Imago..." He said slowly, looking away. He couldn't simply ignore her kindness, foreign as it was to him. The pony squeaked in surprise, but turned to face him, her smile seeming even brighter than before. Had sharing his name really given her so much joy?

"You're very welcome, Mr. Imago. Oh! And I'm Fluttershy."