"Wake up."

The voice was quiet, yet forceful. An insistent whisper.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up."

It was also proving rather difficult to ignore, regardless of just how comfortable his bed was, and how exhausted the last days had left him. Difficult, for two separate and significant reasons.

"Wake up, your services are required."

One, was that the voice, as warm and lovely as it was, wasn't actually speaking to him, it was echoing through his mind.

"If you don't wake up, I'll just get started without you."

The second reason, was that with each repeat of the demand, a warm, firm, ring of tingling magical force squeezed around the base of his cock, and the root of his scrotum, pulsing in time with each word.

With a sleepy groan, Behemoth rolled onto his back, resolutely keeping his eyes closed, he fought to similarly keep a smile off his face.

"Finally!"

He could hear and feel her rustling around under the covers, then the sudden weight of her forced him to make a strange, "Blu-huwuh!" noise as she flopped across his chest.

"The Princess of the Night requires your services, good sir, is your body ready?"

Yeah, no real chance of disguising the grin this time.

"Heh, nope, can't hear you, still asleep..."

She playfully sank her teeth into his chest, and growled against him, her breath hot and wet through his dark blue coat.

"Mmmrrnnn, no, no more sleep..."

Keeping his eyes closed now by sheer will power, he felt the familiar sensation of a wing rubbing across the pinnacle of the mountain of fabric jutting conspicuously up from the bed.

"Mmmm, well at least some of you is ready to go..."

"Aaaacccccc-sheeeeww...."

Not the most convincing snores, perhaps, but they served the purpose, earning him a playful slap across the belly.

"Ok then Soul Eater, lets try this a different way..."

The gentle brushes of her wing gave way to a firmer grip as she enveloped him with the prehensile, feathered membrane, the heat of which radiated through the thin sheets.

"You remember all that fun we had with little Twilight at the library?"

The fake snores stopped, and his response was punctuated by a visible throb.

"Uhhh...yeah, that could work. Get her in here too, that'd convince me to wake up..."

A slow, predatory chuckle met that idea, the sound of which unnerved him more then a little bit.

"No, that's not exactly what I had in mind...here's how this is going to work, either the REST of you gets up, or this time, you get to play the role of nubile little Twilight Sparkle."

Silence reigned as she let that sink in, after a few seconds he replied.

"Did you...just threaten me with tentacle rape?"

She smiled, leaning up and kissing the tip of his nose.

"Threaten? Oh no, I would never threaten you."

He seemed to relax a bit at her reassurance.

"No, that wasn't a threat, it was a promise. I promise, I will proceed to make you airtight with magical tentacles if you aren't up and well on the way to giving me a screaming orgasm in the next ninety seconds."

Strangely enough, it didn't take him ninety seconds. His eyes opened, blinking away the gumminess of a good nights sleep and the brightness of the late mornings sun light that was sneaking in around the drawn curtains.

"Well, shit. Ya know, for some strange reason, I'm not that tired anymore."

She laughed, the sound was lyrical, musically beautiful.

"It must be a Hearths Warming Eve miracle, now..."

She tugged the covers away, casting them off the end of the bed to pool on the floor, and exposing the rigid length of his morning wood for the first time in...almost ten whole hours. She smiled as its full glory was once again laid out, or, more accurately, up, before her, licking her lips subconsciously. She nestled in, moving closer, her tongue rolling over her lower lip as her mouth opened to accept him, and...

The front door slammed open, rebounding off the opposing wall hard enough to rattle the frame of the home. A shrieking, scrapping noise, reminiscent of talons on a chalk board, set their teeth on edge. It was followed by a massive thud, as something illogically heavy slammed into the wooden floor of the entry way, ten or twelve feet below them.

She froze in mid motion, less then an inch from him, he could feel the heat of her breath as their eyes met in mirrored confusion, he twitched in response.

"What the hell-"

Her whisper was cut off by the cry from below.

"BEHEMOTH!! Come downstairs, you gotta huge package today an I wanna see!!"

Closing his eye for a moment, Behemoth heaved a mighty sigh at the voice of his beloved little sister ringing out from below. He attention was drawn back down by Luna's whisper, so faint he could barely hear it.

"Well, I don't know if I'd call it huge..."

He stared at her in silence as she tried not to smile, working hard to keep a look of critical appraisal centered on her face.

"I'd say its...adequate...decent, perhaps..."

She tilted her heads towards his erection, studying it with a jewelers precision. She gave it a little prod with a hoof, watching as it swayed slightly.

"It'll do. Maybe if we're real quiet, she wont know you're home, and we'll get to try it out."

"I know you're home, so don't try to be real quiet!"

"Ok, maybe she doesn't know you're awake...?"

"I know you're awake, too!!"

The both of them looked over the side of the bed, staring at the floor incredulously.

"And maybe shes a damn psychic..."

"I know what you're thinking, but I'm not a damn psychic. Hurry down, I wanna see whats so special about this great, big, massive, heavy package, I could barely handle it!"

With a groan Behemoth brought a hoof up to his face.

"Derpy! Verbage!!"

It was silent for a few seconds, after which her disembodied voice rand out again.

"I don't get what you...EW!!! Dag nabit, that is so not what I meant, that's not how I meant it at all, stop being gross!"

Behemoth couldn't help but laugh, but it was Luna's turn to let loose a long, weary sigh, as she laid her head on his thigh, pushing out her lower lip, pouting how only she could.

"Well, I suppose we should go see what has her so excited..."

She leaned forward, pressing a single, gentle kiss against the underside of his shaft, just below the flare.

"Until next time..."

- - -

Derpy's terminology, suggestive as it was, was accurate. The steel banded ironwood crate she had somehow managed to lug into the living room was, in fact, huge, big, massive, and a grab bag of other innuendo laden adjectives. It would, and had, proved difficult for Behemoth to maneuver while empty during the many years he'd owned it, he couldn't begin to fathom the power needed to move it packed full as it currently was. Or how his dainty little sister had accomplished such a task.

~Maybe Miss Pie has been giving her lessons on denying the laws of physics...~

It was a standard issue personal hoof locker, dozens of which occupied the Guard barracks, one piece of equipment identical between the two separate Guard contingents. Thick planked wood, it stood knee high and the same span deep, and from end to end was half again as long as Derpy was nose to tail. Old wood polish and the stretch of untold decades had left the scuffed, scratched and dented trunk a reddish black, more black then red, like an old scab.

"It's my old duty locker."

He explained for Derpy's benefit, Luna, who was scrounging through the kitchen, had recognized it immediately, and moved off disinterestedly to pursue breakfast. Satisfying one biological need in place of the other that had been denied.

"Oooohhh, so, it's got all your...guard-y stuff in there, huh?"

Behemoth nodded in reply to Derpy's enthusiasm.

"Probably...I wonder who...huh. Nope, only Dusk would've, or could've sent this. Stubborn old mule, I told him I wouldn't be needing all of this..."

Luna's voice quipped in, speaking around the sandwich she was making and eating simultaneously.

"Maybe he knows something you don't, with age comes wisdom, after all."

"Ah well," Behemoth smirked, glancing over at her rump, the only part of her sticking out of the fridge. "In that case you must be the smartest creature on the planet."

Her head rose ominously slowly up into sight, chewing, and she threw him a withering glare.

"I am, and you're an ass."

As she returned to her food, he fished around in his pack for a moment, before emerging with a heavy old key decorated with the same patina of age as the trunk itself, the copper of it's make pitted and green with the passage of time. Regardless of its apparent age, it fit perfectly, and the lock disengaged with a sharp clack, freeing the heavy lid to pivot back on ancient, well oiled hinges that swung with only the slightest groan.

Resting atop a rough cut piece of black fabric, which apparently enclosed the rest of the items contained within the chest, was a flat rectangle, wrapped in plain brown shipping paper, tied with utilitarian twine. Tucked under the x of twine, a single sheet of writing paper was folded over, adorned with a single letter, B.

Lifting the wrapped object clear, he turned away from the crate, making room for Derpy as she enthusiastically dove head first into it, exploring the myriad personal treasures that would give a glimpse into the life she'd barely even heard about.

The note, predictably scribed in Dusk Shields quick and tight script, explained the odd out object.

"You mentioned a group of fillies, the, "Cutie Mark Crusaders", that liked my book. An impressive feat, since I had to help even you through some of the bigger words. This is for them. First edition, signed. Make sure they get it. Everything else in here is yours. Finally decided to move into the new quarters, and needed to move out the last of your wayward gear to make room. Thank me later. I'll be billing you for shipping."

~Heh, old bastard...~

His attention was torn away from the oddly thoughtful gift, as Derpy emerged from the depths, spinning around to face him with a grin seemingly stretching from ear to ear, and a Guard Captains helm perched lop sided on her head, shocks of golden mane sticking out every which way.

At a glance, it appeared very much like the helms worn by the rank and file of the Lunar Guard. The differences, few as they were, were mostly of an aesthetic nature. While the standard helms had a decorative metal crest, almost a fin running from between the ears down the center line of the head, Behemoth's had a short plume of dark blue bristling up from the crown, quite similar to that displayed on some of the Celestial Guard. It was a silent testament to the age of this piece, as it came from a time when there was just one Guard contingent, a supposition reinforced by the fact that the plate was noticeably thicker throughout, reinforced and more carefully designed then the rest. In addition to the plume, the whole peace was covered in whorls and twists of nearly microscopic filigree, worn invisible and smooth in places by the passage of time.

The sides of the helm also extended down and forward, tracing along his jaw line and completely encircling his eyes. The orbit was broken, top and bottom, and discoloration marked a line down from the forehead and through the closed orbit of the right eye, before trailing back along the jaw. A line that would, if worn, match exactly the scar that had taken half of Behemoth's vision.

"Guard Captain Derpy, reporting for duty!"

She threw a sloppy, half hazard salute, the sight of which pulled a poorly suppressed grimace from her brother. Not as a result of the less then crisp nature of the motion she was unfamiliar with, but because that gesture, from her, was something he never wanted to see. A fleeting glimpse into a life he wanted to insulate her from at all costs. An existence he wanted her to have nothing to do with.

His discomfort was so pronounced that Luna picked up on it from the next room, her face appearing around the corner from the kitchen, brow furrowed ever so slightly at the waves of trepidation radiating from him. It was a small thing, all things considered, but hit him like a train. He spoke, doing an admirable job of keeping the sensation of his stomach dropping through his hooves from effecting his voice.

"Captain already, huh?"

Reaching forward, he gently lifted the heavy casque off of her, setting it aside and revealing a smile that melted through his lingering concerns, the golden, if slightly off kilter eyes that shined with innocence and excitement.

"Might wanna slow down a bit, promoted so fast, you'll make the rest of us look bad."

He gently steered her back to the open chest, as Luna returned, momentarily satiated from her quest for sustenance, she joined them on the couch.

"Alright, lets see what else he decided to send out..."

The next item, resting atop the considerable bulk of his heavy armor, rattled and clanked as apparently loose metal bits shifted against each other within a unadorned cloth satchel. It was set on the coffee table, next to the helm, and Derpy wasted no time darting in to fold it open.

"Ohhh, what're these...hey, one of them is broken..."

They were tear drop shaped, each would have been about the size of a large dinner plate had they both been intact, and were constructed of copper or some other gold hued metal. Bedecked with straps, cinches and buckles, they were odd looking, and obviously intricately made and complex machines. One had been cleaved, some great force separating the top third off of the tear drop point, such an abominable strength it must have taken, the metal edges had been fused by the force of the single, monstrous blow. The clanking they'd heard had been the shattered gears, twisted spars, and a length of blade, cut as surely and cleanly as the rest. The damaged mechanism showed splatters of discoloration, something had sprayed across its surface, and been left to turn brown and dull with age. Derpy swept up the intact model, bringing it up to her face to examine closely.

"Now, be careful with that, you don't-"

Behemoth's words of caution fell short, as Derpy's manipulations found the pressure catch, and with a distinctive metallic clack, a wide, short, almost leaf shaped blade snapped into position faster then the eye could follow, a hairs breadth from Derpy's nose. It's tapered form flowed into that of the housing, forming a gentle slope which encompassed both mechanism and blade. A smooth, fluid stretch, devoid of any crease or edge, smooth as silk.

Next out, heaved with a grunt of exertion free of the container seemingly too small to accommodate its bulk, came the armor itself. As was the helm, it was very similar to the traditional guard plate. It extended a bit farther down the flanks and across the chest, and was covered in a similar way with barely visible and inexplicable lines and swirls as the helmet, and shared with it the increase in thickness and general quality of smithing.

"I always thought you looked good in that...", Luna quipped, giving him a little smile.

With more then a little effort, it too was set aside. A section of the breast plate, to the left of the peaked sternum line, showed a similar paling discoloration as the helm had, a smaller, but related section marred the back plates, just left of the spine ridge. This armor, it would seem, hadn't been enough, what ever it had encountered had gone clean through it.

As soon as it was clear, Derpy moved back in, delving deeper into the musky chest, whose bulk didn't seem quite so physics defying now that the armor had been removed.

The next items were diminutive as they were inexplicable. A set of playing cards in an antique silver case that had seen better days. A jumble of coins, varied in size, shape and construction, the script on some flowing and smooth, words like water, and completely indecipherable. On some, the harsh, jagged scrawl was unpleasant to look at, causing a queasy, nauseous feeling shortly after the eye met them. A small, hooked blade, ornately carved and designed for some creature without hooves. An unadorned wooden box, packed with casual disregard to the brim with commendations and medals, tucked to the side as if an after thought. A regal blue dress uniform, folded with crisp precision. A collection of personnel files, bound tightly together, over thirty all told, some fraying and their edges yellowed with age, some new and crisp, seemingly only written a few short days ago. A dozen different hearty books, some on internal medicine, some on strategy and tactics, one, odd out for its age and unique binding, was titled simply, "The Spheres Of Longing".

These were all set aside, clearing space for the last three items.

Another box, weathered and well carved wood of a deep red hue, which gave off a thick, spicy scent. It was wood not native to Equestria, foreign even to Luna, who caught Behemoth's eye and indicated the box with a nod, her raised eye brows asking the question she didn't voice. If he noticed, he showed no sign.

Inside, as it's hinged lid opened noiselessly, was an object unlike any known. Silver, gleaming metal, polished to the point where it cast back distorted reflections of the three of them. It rested in pillowing folds of cloth the same color as the wood, it's vaguely L-shape obviously heavy by how low it had sunk into the cloth. The short arm of the L was adorned with sandalwood, unmistakeable by its faint fragrance and smooth grain. At the sight of it, Luna could no longer keep silent. A score of small, flat ended cylinders shared the box, each tucked into it's own little recession.

"What in creation is that, I've...seen nothing like it."

Behemoth was slow to respond, a strange look on his face.

"It's a...memento from an...from a ....friend."

He ended that line of discussion by firmly closing the box, and setting it aside.

Next, second to last, a rolled bundle half the size of the last. Made of rich, smooth leather, backed with spotless white velvet and bound with a luxurious stretch of ribbon.

"Oooh, this is fancy, wasn't expecting to see something like this in your stuff."

Derpy set it down, quickly tugging loose the ribbon, and rolling the bundle out across the beleaguered table. Gleaming in the light just as surely as the last item had, each tucked into it's own specifically designed and painstakingly stitched compartment, were seven blades of various sizes and shapes, a small yet heavy headed mallet, one end of which curved down to a wicked point like an eagles claw, a contraption that looked for all the world like an overly large vice, of the kind used to crack hard shelled nuts, something that bore a strange resemblance to a melon baller, wide and shallow, and with a rim that was razor sharp, and lastly, short, compact and sturdy and impossible to mistake for anything else, was a polished bone saw. There were other devices and contraptions, almost a score all told, but the rest were bizarre beyond description.

Derpy's confusion and Luna's shock were contrasted by the dropping of every flicker of emotion from Behemoth's face. A trick of the light caught them, the reflection displaying their miniature forms across the tapestry of his single golden eye.

"These're...what the hey are these Behemoth?"

His response was quick and brief, almost as if it was an answer that had been rehearsed many times.

"Surgical tools."

Derpy looked at him, her head tilted to the side, frowning.

"Why do you gotta bunch of surgical tools in here??"

A smile, artificial and transparent, and not reaching anywhere near his eyes snapped across his face with the speed of muscle reflex. He leaned forward, rolling them back up with quick, practiced movements.

"Oh, you know me, I always was interested in medicine."

The explanation wasn't particularly convincing, but in her innocence, she took his claim at face value. Luna, however, Luna was a different story all together. She kept her suspicions to herself though. At least for the moment.

At last, the final item, a massive shape was tugged free. So long it only fit by running the diagonal of the chest's corners, and then only barely. As it came up, its jet black length scraped the heavy, old wood, gouging its own path to freedom. One end was jagged, as if broken off of some much larger object, the other was a flat, box point, so sharp the edge faded to translucence. Across it's cheek, the blade was half again as wide as Behemoth's leg, and grew thicker as it approached the jagged, broken off edge. The spine was pock marked by hundreds, maybe thousands of pin prick holes, forming shallow indentations seemingly at random along its entire surface. It was jet black, and looked preternaturally wet, slick and gleaming, but dry to the touch. Dry, and unnervingly warm. As the light caught it, it reflected back a chromatic sheen, like sunlight on oil.

In an interesting turn, Derpy seemed barely interested in this final item, giving it only the most fleeting of glances before rummaging one more time through the now empty chest, making sure nothing had been overlooked. Satisfied that she'd seen all there was to see, she extracted herself from the crate that could have easily contained her, with room enough to spare for a friend.

"Well, it was fun lookin through all this stuff, but I better get goin before the general notices I haven't finished my deliveries yet."

She swept up her bag and cap, an uncharacteristically graceful motion, except for the part where her swinging rear almost sent a lamp through the living room window. It's impromptu flight ceased a few inches short of coating random passerby's with shards of broken glass thanks to a certain Princesses glowing horn. Ignoring the near lamp-icide, she leaned up, giving Behemoth a little peck on the cheek.

"I'll see you guys tonight, byyyeee!!"

And then she was gone, disappearing from view about the same time the lamp ceased its high risk aerial maneuvers and returned to its table.

Behemoth set about repacking the trunk, practiced, deliberate motions returning each item in meticulous and exact order and orientation.

"Those weren't surgical tools, were they."

Phrased like a question, her tone made no disguise of the fact that it wasn't.

Behemoth didn't pause his mechanical motions for even a second.

"No. They aren't."

She watched his steady motions, waiting for an elaboration that didn't come. She prodded, asking a question she wasn't entirely sure she wanted an answer to.

"Why do you have them?"

As the lid swept closed with leaden finality, he finally looked up, meeting her eyes. The look in his one was...strange.

"They are the tools of the trade for the task your lovely sister assigned me several years into my service, and several more before your return. Memento's of a duty I under took for a time, by her specific request."

She could stroll casually through his mind, drift effortlessly in and out of his thoughts and memories. Her efforts three years ago had seen that his thoughts were as easy to access as her own. He made no effort to block her from the ones associated with the tools.

Still, she recoiled, she...saw might be the best word. She saw the path to those memories, a psychological meat wound burned into his psyche, raw and weeping. Pain, terror, the abattoir stench, the copper tang of blood, the reek of offal, the stink of waste.

Screaming.

Screaming, lasting far longer then screams had any right to last. The shrieks of agony shifting to high pitched wails, as if-

She physically staggered back, desperately turning away from the depths of that part of his mind. He watched her recoil without as much as a twitch, his eye locked onto her without displaying the slightest emotion. It took a time, silent in this home, for her to meet his eye again. The room seemed inexplicably cold, although the sun was shining warmly in a perfect blue sky. She changed the subject, desperate not to dwell any longer in this place.

"So...I've been thinking. It's fortuitous that Dusk Shield sent these items, I believe I've found a way that we can take advantage of the...essence, you've...acquired from the Elements of Harmony."

He nodded slowly, taking her silent hint to put one topic behind them and move on to the next.

"Interesting, where do we start?"

She smiled, it was only slightly forced.

"First, we go and speak to every ponies favorite librarian."

- - -

A short time later saw the two of them at the door of Ponyville's tree library. It was, strangely enough for the middle of a weekday, locked. It was a stereotypical sunny summer day, and the streets were humming with life, seemingly every resident was out today, still, the walk had been uneventful, as Luna had decided to travel, "In disguise". Her hair was down, bound in a quick and simple ponytail, she had acquired a pair of plain rimmed glasses, and her cutie mark was now a full moon half obscured by a cloud. That was it, her cunning guise of deception. And it worked, she was spared nary a second glance, far from the fawning attention usually reserved for royalty in these parts.

Behemoth knocked, and they waited patiently for the faintly heard patter of hoof falls to work their way to the other side of the door.

"You look good in disguise, I'm getting...kind of a ...naughty school teacher vibe. Very sexy. Wanna duck into the bushes for a quickie?"

She short him a withering glare, it's desired effect somewhat diminished by the twinkle of mirth in her eyes and the fact that she was obviously trying not to smile.

"I'll have you know, that a Princess does not 'duck into the bushes for a quickie', good sir."

"Right, I forgot. You prefer your sisters gardens...or her bedroom...or the secondary kitchen, wine cellars, servants shower room, docking bay 94..."

"Ok, you've made your point-"

"The tertiary gruel storage room of the Manehatten municipal orphanage, oh, there was that time you shrunk us down and I gave you a few screaming orgasms on your sisters crown during a state dinner with the Saddle Arabians, that made for some interesting diplomacy...

"Quiet you, we had a chance for that this morning, but you-"

"Main audience chamber, second floor broom closet, Guard barracks, (both divisions,) the orrery, the libraries, the rail switching office, your sisters private sleeper car, the stallions outhouse at the Appleloosa train station, that one alley behind Donut Joe's shop..."

"Do you keep a list?"

"The center of the Wonderbolts raceway, Fluttershy's kitchen, that one rainbow you told said to, quote, 'Do me on'...

He was cut off by the clack and creak of the windowed door finally swinging open, a familiar flustered mare, three tone purple mane a little disheveled, and breathing a little heavily met them.

"What is...who is...oh, M-Mr. Behemoth, I haven't seen you since..."

As the thoughts of their last encounter came back to her, she blushed a brilliant shade, almost enough to give Mac a run for his money. With all that blood rushing to her face, it was a few seconds before she could continue, time enough for Behemoth and Luna to share a knowing smirk. It would seem they'd left an impression.

"Indeed. Nice to see you too Twilight, can we come inside?"

"Come? Inside? Oh, uh...sure, sure, that'd be...and, hello to your friend, I don't think we've met..."

As they stepped inside, Luna dropped her clever concealment's, the glasses disappearing into a puff of smoke, mark back to normal and mane it's usual, physics defying flowing self. The sudden change, swift as a blink, startled Twilight almost enough to motivate a back flip, the reading table, the same one she'd become so well acquainted with the last time she'd had these particular guests, bumped against her rear, stopping her backwards motion.

"Princess Luna, what're, how did, where, the glasses??"

They couldn't help but smile at her impressively dramatic reaction as the door thudded shut behind them.

"Yes, it's me Twilight, please, don't make a fuss, I'm not here in any...official capacity."

Twilight's eyes darted back and forth between them, processing just how quickly and unexpectedly her quiet morning had vanished. As for Behemoth, his attention was elsewhere.

~That smell...it almost...heh heh, guess we interrupted. No wonder she looks so flustered...~

His attention returned to the conversation just in time to hear the last bit of Luna's attempt to calm her sisters prize pupil.

"- just here to get your help with a few things, with finding a few old tomes we hope you may have."

Behemoth wandered off. The Princess and the librarians conversation swiftly turned to arcane magical texts, which held about as much interest for him as an in depth recital of the Canterlot phone book. He moved towards the closed door separating the main room from the small in tree kitchen. A scent of herbs, spices, and something cooking luring him over like a sirens song. His stomach rumbled in a none too subtle reminder that he had yet to eat today.

The conversation from behind him little more then a background drone, he reached out to push open the door. It swung open of it's own accord.

"Twilight, lunch is read....y..."

The small purple and green dragon, wearing a chefs hat and a 'Wub the Cook' apron, had just backed out, balancing a small tray of sandwiches and two bowls of steaming soup. Almost walking straight into Behemoth, his vision slowly trailed up his significantly larger frame. They stood in silence, staring at each other for several seconds. The silence never knew what hit it.

"GAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, ITS A FUCKING DRAGON!!!!"

"AAAAAAAAAH, ITS A SOUL EATER!!!"

The well prepared lunch clattering to the floor, a diminutive claw rose to point at the blue-black pegasus, a large hoof mirroring its gesture. Luna and Twilight, their discussion forgotten, stared at the two in astonishment.

"AHH!!!"First Spike.

"AHHH!!!" Then Behemoth.

"What the hell are you two-"

Luna was cut off, as, this time, their response came in tandem.

"AAHHHHH!!!!!"

Silence reigned. The two stared at each other wide eyed, both leaned back and pointing, and were in turn stared at in shock by their respect female companions. Behemoth spoke first.

"You're not burning down the village, hoarding everything portable or eating random townsfolk."

'No. I'm not. And you're not eating foal souls, orphan or otherwise."

"No, but it's still early."

A small purple finger turned from an accusatory point to an open palm.

"Hi. I'm Spike."

The Beast met that tiny purple claw with his hoof.

"Behemoth. Good to meet you."

Luna shook her head in astonishment.

"Oh what the fu-"