Taylor's breathing was growing heavy and rapid, and Lyra's hands moved faster in response. It was clear that she was giving it her all, making it harder for Taylor to hold back. He tried to keep his body language in check, but his muscles tensed, betraying him. Lyra knew it was coming, and no matter how much Taylor resisted, she was determined to coax it out of him.

She licked her lips and sped up just a bit more. A wicked grin spread across her face as she observed Taylor's jaw tighten. Her rhythm was precise, almost mechanical, and it was faster than anything Taylor had ever experienced. Lyra had pushed him to his breaking point; he simply couldn't stop himself.

He dodged Lyra's jab, returning a powerful right hook. It struck her square in the jaw, and she fell solidly to the canvas. As her body landed, Taylor was ripped from his dream with a start. It took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings, and he rubbed his temple in frustration. "Ugh... sleeping out in the woods is giving me weird fuckin' dreams. I've never even been in a boxing ring before..." he trailed off, yawning.

"And why the hell did Lyra have hands?"

The moon was still out and glowing brightly, an expansive blanket of scintillating stars underscoring its majesty. It was impressive to think that it was the sole work of Princess Luna. The sky in Equestria had been like this each night, ever since she came back to Canterlot.

Canterlot...

Taylor was forced to face the realization that eventually he would have to go there to face the Inquisition. He'd be there right now if it weren't for his injuries, or so he liked to tell himself. In truth, he was up against an unknown enemy with unknown numbers in an unknown location. There were far too many variables working against him to even think about storming the gates, as it were. It was going to be some time before he and Lyra would be able to make a move.

An incredibly abrasive sound hit his ears, shattering his train of thought. It was Lyra, still sound asleep, and snoring loudly. It would have been charming if it didn't sound like someone trying to demolish a building with a chainsaw.

"Well, we'd have been found by now if anyone was looking for us. Especially with those noises coming out of her face."

Taylor blinked, trying to clear the haze from his vision. He had only been asleep for about three hours. As much as he wanted (and needed) more rest, he knew his body's stubborn nature well enough to realize that wasn't going to happen. With a little effort, he got to his hooves, trying not to disturb Lyra as he paced around the clearing. This had become something of a ritual for him, one of the only ways he had found to wake up in the morning. Skipping this would usually leave him groggy and irritable well into the afternoon.

He wandered for several minutes, plodding along in circles around the clearing, his head low and his eyes half-open. It was taking a lot longer than usual to become coherent, which would have been annoying if he were capable of feeling anything other than sleepy at that moment. At last, after almost ten minutes of this, his mind started to clear, and the dull ache from his injuries was returning. Oddly enough, he was grateful for it. That pain would likely be the only thing keeping him awake through the day.

The clearing had become silent, save for the familiar sounds of nocturnal wildlife. Lyra had (thankfully) stopped snoring. Taylor turned to find a familiar pair of golden eyes staring sleepily back at him.

"Morn'n" she said groggily as she wiped away a thin tendril of drool.

"Hey you. Sleep well?"

"Not bad. I heard you moving around."

A wry smile crossed Taylor's face. "I'm surprised you heard anything over your own snoring."

Lyra looked indignant. "I don't snore..." She propped herself up against the tree they slept under. Taylor watched her every move, slow and deliberate. He held within himself the same fascination for pony behavior and mannerisms as Lyra held for those of humans. Besides the obvious physical relationship to horses from his world, Equestrians were a world apart, both figuratively and literally. They almost seemed like they were made of rubber at times.

Lyra noticed Taylor staring, though he wasn't just staring, he was observing. Perhaps even studying her silently from across the clearing. It was flattering, and a little uncomfortable, but she supposed that she had done worse to him since he arrived and chose to say nothing. Taylor likewise remained silent. It took several minutes for her to shake off the grasping claws of sleep, but at last she rose to her hooves.

"I want to go back to see Bon-bon and get my books." she stated matter-of-factly, as if being hunted by mysterious red-robed maniacs was business as usual. It was obvious she wouldn't be cowed on this one, her determination piercing the veil of mental and physical exhaustion that hung over her features.

Taylor opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly determined that there was nothing he could say to dissuade her. With the Inquisition hunting them and his injuries still fresh, they would be at a severe disadvantage. They would be equally disadvantaged by staying out in the forest the rest of their natural lives. At some point, they would be forced to make a move, and this was probably their best chance. They'd never expect it; only fools would return to the house so soon after the Inquisition's attack.

"Well then, let's get stupid."

Bon-bon sat quietly in the featureless room. It felt more like a cell, really. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all carved from stone, and completely seamless. This room had been chiseled directly into solid rock, likely the work of magic. She had been in a similar room several months ago, after the Inquisition's first visit to her home. She was terrified then, unsure of what would happen to her and to Lyra. This time was different. She was stoic, and relaxed. She exuded superiority, as if she was completely in control.

A wooden table sat between her and an Inquisitor, who had been reading a sheet of parchment for several minutes. Her coat was a vibrant pinkish red, much like that of the school teacher in Ponyville, Cheerilee, but darker. Beneath her long well-kept lavender mane were two forest green eyes that seemed able to gaze right through you. Bon-bon recognized her as Cerise, a mare with an unusually cold demeanor, something she had developed after being recruited.

After several minutes, the Inquisitor spoke. Her accented feminine voice was sweet, almost musical, though it did little to mask the venom in her words. "Keeping your friend's actions from us the first time was unwise, but we allowed the two of you to remain undisturbed in light of your... relationship with the Grand Inquisitor. You remember the conditions you agreed to that day, yes?" She paused momentarily, waiting for Bon-bon to acknowledge. She simply glared back at the robed pony. "They were very clear, as I recall. That is why I find myself wondering why you wouldn't report Lyra's continued attempts to bring a human to our world."

"She became very secretive after the first incident. Locked herself in her room most days." Bon-bon leveled her eyes at her accuser. "I had no way of knowing what was going on without making it painfully obvious that I was keeping an eye on her."

"Unlikely. Regardless, this report says that she succeeded in her efforts. We have a human running around Ponyville as a result of your negligence. It's one thing to want to protect your friend, but to endanger all of Equestria in-"

A door opened behind her, cutting her off mid-sentence. A large stallion slowly made his way into the room, his robes stained with dirt, and what appeared to be dried blood. It was the same one that had attacked Taylor. Cerise let out a snort. "Well, look who it is. Enjoy your little nap?"

Though his face was covered, Bon-bon could tell the stallion was feeling something akin to shame at this moment. "My apologies. We did not expect Lyra to come back for the human."

Cerise slammed her hoof on the table. "The most physically capable member of our order brought down by a pony half his size. Disgraceful doesn't even begin to describe what happened. Now, the human and its accomplice are on the loose, free to do... whatever it is they plan to do."

"You two are ridiculous, you know that?" Bon-bon chuckled. "He's not a threat, or at least not nearly as much of one as you're making him out to be. The evidence is pretty clear," she cast a glance at the stallion, "Lyra's done more damage than Taylor."

The two Inquisitors eyed her suspiciously. "You gave it a name," Cerise sneered. "How cute. It's like a pet to you, is it?"

Bon-bon glared, unamused. "That's how he introduced himself to me. Turns out he's proving all of Lyra's research correct - including the good parts about humans. Whether or not you want to believe it, they're not the monsters that we've been told they are."

"They are dangerous." said the stallion flatly.

"Of course. Everypony is dangerous, if they've got the right motivation. You demonstrated that to Taylor, didn't you?" Bon-bon stood up, heading for the door, her eyes locked with Cerise. "I'm still on your side in this, but don't use old stories to justify what you're doing. Try observing him, see for yourself just what he's capable of. If he's really dangerous, then you won't just have evidence," she turned, the slightest hint of a smile forming at the corners of her mouth, "you'll know how to beat him."

She left the cell, casually walking down the long stone hall. Rays of tinted moonlight filtered in through the stained glass windows, illuminating everything in ghostly shades of red and gold. Every hoof beat resonated loudly off the walls, a testament to just how quiet the nights in Canterlot were. She easily found her way through the maze-like corridors, slowing as she neared a large wooden door. Nudging it open, she entered a large foyer. Long red tapestries trimmed with gold accented the wood paneled walls, bordering painted portraits of several aging ponies. She moved slowly through the room, gazing absently up at the massive chandelier, losing herself in its soft glow.

The sound of another pony's hooves brought her back to reality. She turned, looking up the long wooden staircase. The figure that gazed back at her was an elderly silver stallion clad in a patterned red robe, trimmed with a golden fringe - clearly not the garb of the typical Inquisitor. Bon-bon smiled up at him, her cyan eyes brightening.

"Hi, dad."

[Author's Note: Those first three paragraphs were fun. Trollolol]