//------------------------------//
// 17.1 A Turf Dispute 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//

By the time Prey made it out the door and down the steps of the red brick jail station, Gloom and Crimson were already almost half way down the short lane, heading for the main street. Prey gritted his teeth and ran after them.

'Where are these idiots going?' Prey thought angrily as he tried to catch up. They didn't know who Turf Apple sent, or where. 

Prey knew the answer, he'd read it from Turf Apple's surface thoughts, but he couldn't very well share his knowledge without having a damned good explanation for just how he suddenly knew all of this.

Ahead, Gloom glanced back to make sure Prey was following them, then hurried on, giving some sort of instructions to Crimson as they rounded the corner. When Prey skidded around it himself, ears swinging about wildly from the momentum, he saw Gloom had cornered some random Hay Steam citizen.

He only caught the tail end of Gloom demanding, "-where is sheriff Turf Apple's brother's farm?" The nervous pony pointed in a direction.

Prey had almost caught back up to them before they were off again, leaving Prey in the dust of the hard packed dirt street. Again. Gloom called back "Keep up Prey."

'What does it look like I'm trying to do?'

At a word from Gloom, Crimson took to the sky, powering up through the air and wheeling above them as he flew on ahead, no doubt to scan for this farm.

Ponies on the streets jumped out of Gloom's way as he galloped past, maintaining an easy loping pace that Prey was hard pressed to even match for more than a minute, let alone catch up with.

Prey was small and weak, with under developed muscles, and after having spent the last fifty seven years in Dreverton (plus his time held in Vanhoover), he was about as out of shape as he could get. Not that he'd ever been particularly strong or fast, but in the Resistance, he'd actually been good at one physical activity; running away. He'd had a knack for ducking and weaving through branches as he fled for his life, a skill mainly brought on by terrified desperation.

The point was, as stated, Prey was 'out of shape'. He'd only been out of a prison cell for about four days. That wasn't nearly enough time to recover some proper body mass, even for his small frame. The curse he'd willingly inflicted upon himself all those years ago slowed any natural changes to his body, making it incredibly difficult to gain any... the word wasn't 'muscle', but at least stamina.

So inevitably, Prey soon lost Gloom in the evening sun lit streets of Hay Steam. 

'This is ridiculous.' Prey thought, coming to a halt, panting. 'It's futile to attempt to catch up in time, so why waste energy running? I will walk and get there when I get there.'

He was parched. He hadn't drunk anything since the mess hall this morning. Shaking the burn from his tired legs, Prey ignored his discomfort and snuck into the shadows cast by the houses and shops he passed. It didn't do much to hide him, as the sun was still up, but it was habit and making yourself even slightly less noticeable was better than nothing.

'What are the chances Gloom and Crimson have done something noble and stupid by the time I finally get there?' Prey thought, cutting down a small side alley that should, if it agreed with his mental map, be a short cut. 

Sticking his head out from behind a planter barrel at the other end of the small alley way, Prey checked all around before continuing on. He didn't like this.

He didn't like being in an unknown place, he didn't like being in an area of known conflict, he didn't like having to be anywhere near other ponies, and he certainly didn't like doing all of the above while tired and thirsty.

Prey paused as he went past the front door of a shop. Backing up a couple of steps, he craned his neck back so he could see the sign above the door frame. 'Apothecary' the sign read, with a couple of painted leaves woven amid the letters. 

Prey knew that word, didn't it essentially mean a shamans hut? But what was such a place doing in the middle of a pony town?

Prey's experience with shamans was that their potions and brews were always sinister in purpose. Like foul poisons or blinding powders. Why would soft, peace loving ponies have such a place here? Prey looked up and down the street, but couldn't spot anyone who looked like they were concerned by the shop. 

'Perhaps the meaning of the name has changed while I've been gone. It was over half a century after all.' Prey pondered.

Prey decided that Gloom and Crimson could wait. It wasn't like he cared about catching up in time for them to apprehend whomever it was anyway. With a cautious look round, Prey snuck back into the alley and up to what must be the back door to the place. Standing on his hind legs, he could just about reach the handle. 

It was locked. 

Prey weighed up whether it was worth risking using a rune to force open the door.

He still didn't know if the tracker bracelets on him could detect his use of runes. Prey decided that it wasn't worth the risk. He might be able to explain the rune he'd placed back in the bunk room, but probably not one he used to break into a shop. It looked like there was nothing for it but to use a much more conspicuous entrance instead, however much it went against his nature.

'The front door it is then.'


---


Two minutes later, Prey walked back out the front door, very displeased. Apparently, the word 'apothecary' did indeed mean something different to what he thought. Apparently it meant, 'New Age Spiritualism'. The shops own words, not his.

'Well that was a waste of two minutes of my life.' Prey thought sourly.

He'd been hoping for... He wasn't sure what, but anything else than the quaint little shop he'd found inside. There had been rows of herbal teas and brightly coloured dreamcatchers, little charms and natural remedies, scented candles and racks of common everyday herbs, like rosemary, mint, or thyme.

Prey wasn't sure why that annoyed him, perhaps it was the sleepy looking mare lounging behind the counter reading a book on chakra and star signs, who hadn't even looked up as he entered. He'd at least been expecting a zebra. But he supposed no self respecting zebra shaman would be caught dead in  such a shop. That and ponies were racist and hated zebras.

Maybe he'd been hoping for something more primal in there to prove that the spread of ponykind hadn't erased everything that used to be. But it seemed that harder side of life only existed beyond the mountain range where he'd lived, not in pony lands under Celestia's benevolent hoof.

Or maybe it was that some of those stolen and self integrated memories he'd torn from Snake's mind were what was influencing him to feel offended by this place's existence. It wouldn't be the first time that evil old voodoo witch had clung to life through Prey's own memories.

Prey spat on the apothecary's front step as he left, annoyed that he was annoyed by something so mundane. 

He honestly didn't know how such a shop could survive in a town like Hay Steam where the main industry seemed to be entirely production or labour based, like with the railroad. 'Waste of space.' Prey thought.

He'd at least been hoping to steal some deadly night shade or belladonna from in there.

He shook his head and recalled his mind to what was important. 'Alright, back to finding Gloom and Crimson. Wherever they've run off to.' 


---


The break between the houses of Hay Steam back on to the grassy prairie was abrupt. One second wooden walls, and the next he emerged onto endless green grass. His hooves were complaining about yet more walking, but he'd made it here without incident and everything was going fine. 

Emphasis on the past tense of was going fine.

Prey took a moment to pluck a blade of grass, completely ignoring the disturbance he could see happening in the distance up ahead, at what could only be Turf Apple's brother's farm. It looked serious, involving quite a few angry ponies. He didn't have any plans to sort it out, what ever it was. That was Gloom's problem. He could pick up raised voices drifting down to him on the wind as he pondered the blade of grass he held up.

'Tough, spiky, low nutrition content, stringy and fibrous,' He took a moment to taste it, 'Yep, also bitter. You couldn't live off this for long. My estimate, six weeks. Too bad, these settler ponies could've had a good thing going here.' Prey thought, discarding the stem.

The sound of raised voices increased up at the farm. 

Prey let out a long sigh, the brief distraction over, and started through the long, rustling grass. 'How did this become my life?' He thought, wading through the grass stems at neck height.

In less than a minute, Prey had made his way to the source of the disturbance. Or rather the stand off that was taking place between Gloom and Crimson on one side, against a group of angry looking Earth pony farmers on the other. 

They were quite literally divided, the farm properties fence running between the two groups, and the farm implement wielding ponies on the far side seemed quite insistent on keeping it that way.

"If I've told ya' once I've told ya' eleven times, ya' ain't setting hoof on this here our land. Ah know my rights, I paid for this property an' I darn well get ta' say who can come in and who can't." A loud, pitchfork wielding earth pony, with a green coat similar to Turf Apple's, brayed stubbornly.

'Turf Apple's brother no doubt,' Prey observed, taking a moment as he crept closer unobserved to confirm that from the minds of the ponies present, 'Ah, yes it is. Seed Apple. Their name must run in the family, along with their stupidity.'

"And I'll also say it again," Gloom said through clenched teeth, obviously trying, (and failing), to hide his irritation, "As a member of the Guard, specifically the Night Guard, I, in fact, do have authority to enter your land if you're under suspicion of harbouring-"

"-Ain't no crime nor criminal here so ya' can just turn your tail around an' keep trotting back ta' Canterlot mister Nighty Night Guard." Seed Apple interrupted rudely, the rest of what must have been the Apple family clan cheering their agreement.

Despite the family name, Prey couldn't see any apple trees present as he looked through the fence. Just normal earthen fields of plowed sod, sprouting with what looked like the beginnings of cabbage shoots and squashes.

Crimson, who was standing next to Gloom, was looking almost ready to attack, leg muscles tensed and, if you looked closely, wings quivering with suppressed energy. The pegasus's mental walls weren't in great condition earlier, but right now this wasn't the opportunity to try and exploit his distraction.

"You are obstructing a Night Guard in the execution of their duty. Do you know what the punishment is for that?" Gloom snapped at them, rapidly loosing what little patience he had left.

"We ain't obstructing ya' duty, because ya' have no duty to do here. Be off with ya'!" They jeered, not backing down in the slightest.

Prey backed up unobserved into the grass a couple of steps, then turned and circled round the arguing ponies, making sure to give both the stubborn farm family and the loudly arguing form of Gloom backed up by Crimson a wide birth.

It was far simpler than it should have been to just walk further down the fence line and climb through unnoticed, while the rest of them continued to angrily bicker.

Prey brushed off his wool, and calmly walked into the farm.


------{}------


Prey brushed off his wool and walked out of the farm. 

When he looked, he was faintly surprised to find that Gloom, Crimson and the Seed Apple's family were still holding the stand off. Obviously not surprised that they were still out here, because if the Apples weren't in the farm house where else would they be? No, Prey was just surprised that their stubbornness had actually held Gloom and Crimson off.

'They could've just flown over them.' Prey thought. 

The farmers could snarl and shout all they wanted, but there wasn't much they could do about Gloom and Crimson flying around wherever they pleased above the farm.

Likely the reason they hadn't was because Gloom was following the law and honouring Apple Seed's 'rights'. 

Idiot. 

That went for Crimson too. He and Gloom both put far too much stock in the silly notions of honour and duty.

Using deception, Prey had gotten in and out without a problem. So which of out of their two methods worked better?

"I'm telling ya', go on and get!"
"You ain't getting in so leave us in peace!"
"There ain't nopony here!"
"Yeah! We told ya'!" 

The Earth pony family kept shouting at Gloom, who couldn't get a word in edge ways. Never the less, the Sargent and his one remaining unit member were standing their ground. 'Why though?' Prey wondered, 'Apple Seed obviously isn't going to budge, so why continue to wait here? Do they still think I'm still behind and are waiting for me to catch up?'

Prey could just keep sitting here hidden in the grass, and let this continue, but what was the benefit to himself? 

He might as well subtly signal his presence to Gloom, just to let the Sargent know he was here. That way if Gloom was waiting for him, they could stop wasting time and leave. However if Gloom wanted him to join in trying to argue their way past the stubborn Apple family, he had another thing coming. If that was the case, Prey was perfectly happy to continue sitting back here.

Prey was just making his way closer through the tall prairie grass, keeping low, when Crimson lifted his head. He cocked it this way and that as if listening, or perhaps sniffing, and then turned and looked right in Prey's direction.

While Prey hadn't been trying to remain completely undetected, (he'd only been keeping low in the grass, not crawling through it), the unerring way Crimson's yellow gaze zeroed in in him was a bit worrying. He wasn't that slack, was he?

Prey met Crimson's eyes and offered a shrug. He raised an eyebrow questioningly at Crimson, as if to say, 'Well here I am. Are you two gonna' stay over there pointlessly arguing or what?'

Crimson's expression didn't change, but at least he lent over and nudged Gloom, muttering something in his ear while the Apples kept up the barrage of creatively rude shouts that all amounted to "Go away!"

At Crimson's prompt, Gloom quickly glanced Prey's way, his eyes skittering over the lambs hiding place but failed to spot him, which was something of a relief to Prey. He'd been worried he might've been getting lax after Crimson spotted him so easily, but he put that aside for now, and quickly signalled his little hiding place with a single, quick wave.

Gloom spotted the flash of white fur first time despite the low light, superior thestral eye sight was a thing after all. 

"Scat!"
"Get!"
"Shoo!"

Gloom spared a long glare for Seed Apple and his jeering family, still adamantly blocking their path. The disguised thestral gave being heard one last attempt. 

"For the last time-" 
"Beat It! Go On! Get Lost!" Came the combined shouts drowning him out.

It looked like it physically pained Gloom to turn tail and leave. From Crimson's agitated wing twitches, he wasn't any happier, but they swallowed their pride and stalked off into the tall prairie grass, not taking the track that ran back town in favour of making their way directly through the swaying grass to where Prey hid.

Prey picked up Gloom's angry thoughts as he came within range, '-nopony's been properly enforcing law in this town. Gone to the dogs. Thinking the sheriff in their family will get them out of anything-'

Gloom didn't slow as he strode past Prey, Crimson following Gloom's example in not stopping. 

"Come on. We've got to get back to Canterlot." Gloom almost growled as he passed.

Prey was tired and his hooves hurt, but Gloom's annoyance, and by extension also Crimson's, couldn't help but bring a smirk to Prey's lips as he stood up. 'You shouldn't have left me behind then.' He thought, sticking close behind Crimson's tail so as to let the pegasus break the trail for him.

"Alright Prey, what did you learn inside?" Gloom asked as the shouts of, "Ya' won't come back if'n ya' know what's good for ya'!" faded behind them.

Prey slowed for a step, "Pardon?" He asked carefully.

The Sargent's tail was flicking angrily, but not because of Prey. "Inside the farm. Crimson sm-saw you go in when nopony was looking, so we stalled them out front. Did you find who we're looking for inside?" Gloom asked, keen to hear a positive answer as they pushed through the grass.

Briefly, Prey thought back.


------{O}------


The farm was made up a jumble of buildings. A couple of barns, the farm house, two sheds, an outhouse, the hen coup and a wood shed. Thankfully, the farmers didn't appear to own any dogs.

Prey skirted the barn headed for the back door of the farm house, eyes and ears peeled. He didn't see signs that any members of the family were inside, most likely they'd all rallied outside to confront Gloom. All the one's who weren't trying to hide from the law, that was.

'Turf Apple sent someone here bearing a warning, so they've got to be around here somewhere. Unless the messenger was also one of the Apple family out front. And if that's not it, then perhaps this mystery person they were sent to warn instead.'

Prey reached the back door, walking under the line of the windows view without issue. He cautiously closed his eyes and opened his senses, searching for anything amiss or signs of life.

Ten seconds... Twenty seconds... One minute...

Nothing but the sounds of chickens behind the house, the faint wind, a family of mice up in the thatch, and, wait, was that...? Yes, breathing. Quite and light. Too far away to pick out any of their thoughts.

Pressing his hoof against the rough grain of the back door, Prey slowly, oh so slowly, cracked it open. 

A normal kitchen was slowly revealed. Iron pots hanging from hooks, bushels of potatoes waiting to be cleaned, a large homemade table and wooden benches. No sign of the breather though. Prey got the door open to about six inches and then slipped quickly through with barely a hairs breadth to spare.

Taking a moment to wedge a splinter under the door so it wouldn't bang shut in any sudden breath of wind, he quickly trotted inside, all the while mind open for the first telltale trace of thoughts that would alert him to the proximity of the person still inside the farm house.

Prey didn't plan on confronting them, no, he had another idea in mind. But first, he needed to find them. 

Prey wasn't too worried about discovery himself. After all, he was just a child and could play the role if need be. Who would believe that an innocent, lost little lamb was here to cause harm? Certainly not these soft, weak ponies.

'Killing an intruder doesn't even cross their minds. I mean, they haven't even come to blows with Gloom and Crimson, despite their open hostility. All they can bring themselves to do is bar their way and shout. It's laughable.' Prey thought with scorn, creeping down the corridor with his side pressed against the wall.

Never walk in the middle of the path. Keep to the edges. The middle was most likely to be trapped.

Unless of course the whole path was rigged. Then you were dead either way.

There was no one, pony or otherwise, in the Apple families living room when Prey looked in.

'Furniture old, older than Hay Steam. Must be family antiques, meaning there is a lot more Apple family somewhere out there. Low set shelves, seems likely all earth ponies. Someone here paints, those small canvases are home made. Few other ornaments, so a frugal life style. Family photo's showing more ponies than I saw outside. I count three not accounted for by this photo. Which one is Gloom's criminal?' Prey thought.

Keeping to the wall, he headed across the living room, orange shafts of late evening light illuminating the room. The soft breathing was getting closer. It must be just through that door.

Slowly, cautiously, Prey snuck closer and closer, just waiting for his mental range to overlap with the person's thought's on the other side of the wall. Just a little closer...

And then Prey scowled and straightened up, no longer bothering to sneak. 

He boldly walked through the door. There, sleeping peacefully in a small cot was a foal. A little brown colt, probably no more than four years old, with a soft blanket tucked under his chin. Although 'little' was subjective. He was a rather chubby colt, and was already almost as big as Prey.

'Waste of my time.' Prey thought. The Apple family had obviously left this colt inside to keep him from the brewing conflict outside, and it had side tracked him.  It was annoying. There hadn't been any foal in the family photo. That picture must be older than four years then.

'Well there's nothing of interest in here.' He thought, leaving.

Prey paused at the door, eyes drawn back to the sleeping colt, who had a happily little smile on his unconscious muzzle. 'It's unlikely this colt holds any importance to anything, but I wonder what he's going to be grow up?' 

Prey would confidently have bet it involved farming. 

On a whim, Prey trotted back to the cot.

'I wonder...' Prey mused, looking down thoughtfully on the sleeping colt's happy countenance. He'd never been into the mind of a child before. What might he be able to learn from the experience? He wondered how someone so young saw the world.

'It's probably bright and pure to him, untainted. An idealistic, happy child's view. I could destroy all of that, right here, right now.' Prey idly thought, his hoof a mere inch from coming into contact with the foals soft brown fur. Prey blinked, and slowly lowered his hoof.

What had he been thinking? Why harm a child? Not to mention, Luna would kill him if he got caught. 

'It was just a passing notion, an ill considered possibility.' Prey thought, shaking his head. 'Yes my research is important, but it can wait. Be grateful Apple family.' 

Still, he looked back at the sleeping foal, the blankets tucked snugly under the colt's chin. Prey wrinkled his nose and returned to his search, keenly aware that he'd wasted enough time and didn't have long left. He couldn't count on Gloom and Crimson delaying the farmers for more than another three minutes, maybe three and a half.


---


With his time limit in mind, and no longer having to worry about the other sole occupant of the farm house, Prey didn't waste any longer in being sneaky and just went straight in to check the other rooms. After  checking for traps of course. Just because there weren't any so far wasn't any reason to make assumptions. Assumptions got you killed.

They were most likely all bedrooms, and he was proved correct when he pushed open the door to the first one.

A five by five room with a window was revealed. Probably what a standard bedroom for an earth pony farmer looked like Prey guessed. Not that he had really had anything to compare it against.

A messily made bed, a window sill and shelf jampacked with odds and ends, a basket in the corner containing a worn hoof file and stiff mane brush. He glanced under the straw mattress bed, and saw boxes of more unidentifiable stuff. From the dust on the lids, those boxes hadn't been taken out in months, meaning they probably didn't hold anything of interest to Prey.

'Nothing in here.'

He re-closed the door to the exact position he'd found it in and hurried onto the next bedroom. He needed to be swift, he couldn't go over everything with a fine toothed comb like they had Tulip Bed's house. Had that really only been this morning? 

The next bedroom was also a let down. He spent five seconds looking around. Just more bits and pieces that told a story about the pony who lived in here, but who was ultimately a nobody as far as Prey was concerned.

The third bedroom had two beds, but was just as much a waste of his time.

The fourth held a double bed, and an old wedding photo on the mares dresser. No prizes for guessing who this room belonged to.

The fifth bedroom held what Prey was looking for. This room didn't have many personal effects in it, the daily knick-knacks of accumulated life missing. Yet someone had clearly slept in here recently, the cover of the bed was thrown back and the pillow still bore the impression of the occupants head. 

'So not someone who lives at the farm regularly. Excellent.' Prey swiftly entered the room and began looking for clues.

Light drag marks there under the bed, still fresh, something had hurriedly been pulled out. He looked over at the small wooden closet, noting how the door hadn't been closed, and that a coat hook had fallen off and was lying on the floor inside. 

'They left in a hurry. This was definitely the one Gloom was after.'

Prey stepped up to the bed, taking a sniff, trying to pick out any scent that might be recognisable later. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything that stood out over the smell of linen and straw, not even enough to tell if it had been a mare or stallion.

But there, on the pillow was something far more useful. He pulled a stand of dark blue mane off the pillow, thinking back to the faded family photo down stairs.

'There were three ponies in that picture not present outside. And only one of them had had dark blue in their mane.' Prey pulled back the blanket, eyes scanning for what he already knew he'd find. Yes, a couple of purple hairs. Prey knew who their trouble maker was now, and he finally had a face to put with the name he'd heard in Turf Apple's thoughts.

'Pebble Mill. Earth pony stallion, medium height, two toned dark blue and red mane and tail, purple coat, cutie mark of what appeared to be two bees above a triangle.' Prey thought, filing that all away in his head for later as he quickly went over the room, searching for anything further. Twenty seconds was all he allowed himself, and when he didn't find anything in that time, he immediately stopped searching and left.

Prey pulled the splinter from under the back door as he left, brushed off the specks of dirt on the porch where he'd stepped, and with another quick double check that he was still unobserved hurried away.


------{O}------


"Well?" Gloom repeated, grass rustling as he impatiently lead them through.

Well Gloom was going to be disappointed, because the pony they we after, Pebble Mill, was gone. Prey didn't particularly care to share his knowledge on what their missing pony looked like either. Prey was tired and didn't feel like speaking. Pebble Mill was gone and that was that. But Gloom wasn't going to let him off without offering some feedback on his search.

"I didn't find much, sorry. The house had no one else inside apart from a sleeping foal. By the looks of things, our target grabbed their stuff and ran the moment they got the message from Turf Apple. Sorry sir." Prey apologised with fake disappointment.

"We weren't the only ones stalling it seems." Crimson commented flatly.

Gloom's ears drooped a few inches on his head, "This whole day has been a failure from the beginning," He sighed, "But we mustn't get discouraged. We have done something worthwhile. Turf Apple has been exposed, and we have a lead. I was going to say we stay until nightfall and fly over the farm, but there's no point now."

It did feel that way. Nothing the ISND had set out to accomplish today had worked. But there was nothing further they could do.

"So... What is our next course of action sir?" Crimson asked.

"Back to Canterlot to report what's happened, and to send out a Royal Guard unit first thing to re-arrest the ponies we released from the cells. And Turf Apple of course. And probably his brother and his family too." Gloom stamped a hoof in the grass, "I wish they hadn't opposed us. Now they're going to have to face charges for interfering with our duty. Why couldn't they just do the smart thing?"

"They made their choice. Now there are consequences." Crimson said philosophically.

"I would rather not have to punish them at all. It brings me no pleasure." Gloom said as they exited from the tall grass and entered back into Hay Steam. From the light in the sky, it wouldn't be too long before Celestia's sun was touching the horizon. There were decidedly less ponies walking the streets as a result. Or word had gotten round about the Night Guards in town.


---


There were a couple ponies on the platform, waiting for the train to arrive in the waning light, travelling cloaks on and overnight bags at their hooves.

The ISND stood themselves at the far end of the platform and away from all the other travellers. 

No one said anything as they waited. 

It had been a long day with lots of walking, travelling, interrogations, and more walking. Prey was tired, and so were Gloom and Crimson unless he wildly missed his guess. They hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and it didn't look like they'd be getting much sleep tonight either.

Prey had bits of grass stuck in his wool, and little hooked seed pods lodged in the fur of his fetlocks and ears. Such weeds grew wherever you went, he was used to it by now. He wondered if Gloom would allow them to use those showers again. Those things were a wonderful invention.

It wasn't that he minded the dirt. He'd hidden in a swamp for thirty six hours before, up to his chin in slime. But where there was the choice between being clean or being dirty, well, it was a no brainer.

Prey had been sitting watching the ponies down the other end of the platform, when he faintly heard the distant sound of the train, still a few minutes off. He turned to Gloom, interrupting the Sargent's downcast thoughts; '-can only hope this doesn't make the Night Guard look incompetent. Mustn't disappoint Princess Luna-'

"Hey sir, does the return train journey go straight to Canterlot, or are there other stops along the way?" Prey asked.

Gloom switched back to the present, "Uh, no it should just be a straight trip back." 

Prey "Hmm'd", giving the other waiting passengers another suspicious look. "Well, here it comes." He said, twitching his ear in the direction of the approaching train.

Within a few moments, Gloom and Crimson could hear it too, and another couple before the other passengers-to-be picked it up for themselves. 

'Hmm,' Prey noted, 'Thestral heritage doesn't just extend to night vision. I'd be interested to study what the full characteristic benefits entail, and what else they might be keeping secret. Besides the obvious of course.'

The train chugged out of the fading light and came to a halt in a hiss of steam. They stepped aboard, and once inside, the three of them found an isle near the mostly abandoned end carriage. The rest of the passengers got into the other carriage, meaning that aside from about three ponies, the ISND had almost complete privacy in their carriage.

Prey tiredly climbed up onto his seat. Opposite, Gloom and Crimson plopped down with a clank of armour. Even Crimson's usually rigidly controlled posture drooped slightly. Five minutes later, after the train had pulled out of the station and they were on their way, Gloom broke the despondent quiet.

"Believe it or not, we actually did okay tonight-I mean okay today. We did the best we could with just the three of us, and we'll be coming back with more Guards tomorrow to properly clean up this mess." Gloom paused, flicking a piece of grass from his armour. 

"So..." Gloom took a deep breath and sat up straight again, " So does anypony have any suggestions? Observations, questions, anything that we might have overlooked?"

Crimson shifted, carefully considering what he wanted to say before voicing it, "The sheriff, Turf Apple. What will we do with him?"

Gloom shrugged tiredly, "I'm not too sure. We don't dictate punishment, that's up to the judge. Still..." Gloom added, looking out the darkening window, "Technically he didn't even do that much wrong. And he did it all for family. I hate cases like this, when it's family and there's no happy outcome." He sighed, letting his head fall back.

"Blood is thicker than mud, and all that." Prey commented, without looking up from trying to pick bits of grass out of his wool.

"That is not correct. Blood is far more of a liquid than mud. Unless it is muddy water, and not mud. So that doesn't count." Crimson said with a tiny frown.

"Tested it have you?" Prey asked, looking up with an innocent grin.

Crimson regarded him, "No."

"It's just a metaphor Crimson. Do you have the list Prey?" Gloom asked, a might too hasty in changing the conversation.

Prey knew Gloom was referring to the list of prisoners from the cells, "Do you see any list on me?" Prey asked, looking down at his list-less self.

"What? We need that. Where did you leave it?" Gloom asked jerking upright.

"It fine, stop panicking, I've recorded it all in here." Prey said, tapping his head.

"You can't remember everything Prey, we need that list-"

"Willow Pot, brown dappled earth pony stallion, thirty, unemployed, residence on 2nd street, cutie mark two crossed trees." Prey interrupted.

"He's just one of-"

"Bread Pudding," Prey broke in, continuing his recital, "Grey blue earth pony mare, twenty eight, residence 17 Happy Street, cutie mark a clock with candles instead of hands. Tough Scruff, dark green earth pony stallion with orange spot over left eye, residence-"

"Okay okay I get the point. You can remember them all," Gloom conceded, "But I want you to write them all up when we get back. Tonight even. Just because you can remember it now doesn't mean you'll still be able to later."

That wasn't correct. If Prey stored a memory, then he wouldn't, couldn't, forget it. But instead of arguing that, he just rolled his eyes and nodded. "As you command. Sir."

"Who do you think the pony was that Turf Apple's brother was hiding?" Crimson asked, bringing the conversation back around.

"I don't know, but I hope we'll find out in the morning when we return with a warrant to fully search the premises and question everypony involved." Gloom replied, stifling a yawn. Prey kept quiet. There was a subject he wanted to raise, but not just yet.

Crimson also went quiet for a moment, eyes vacant, "Sir, I was thinking..." He started slowly, testing each word, "Hay Steam has had three riots. We are not the first Guards to investigate this. Yet they were not able to stop all these riots. Therefore I don't think the Apple pony we are after is the cause of all this. Even if we catch him, or her, it won't solve the riot problem sir." He stated.

"Unfortunately, you're right on the money there. However the only lead we've got is this one pony at the moment. Maybe we might find something else tomorrow, but until then..." Gloom shrugged, "We can hope, but hope isn't a plan."

What more could really be said on the topic of Turf Apple and the riots? Nothing the Royal Guard had tried so far had put a stop to them, and they'd been trying for half a year. Whatever the source of the problem was, it wasn't easy found.

Prey however, was more of the opinion that they were just plain incompetent. 

'Seriously, with a little bit of forward planning, they could've put a stop to all of this by now. Hell, it's only so long before Celestia has enough of them disturbing her puppet utopia and sends in the Border Guard to wipe them all out.'

Or maybe she wouldn't do a thing. Celestia was immortal. What did she care about these riots? A couple of centuries from now, everyone will be dead and replaced. Except her. Prey shivered, a chill going down his spine at the thought of the Sun Wolf.

'Actually, that's not quite true. Her sister will still be around. Out of the two, Luna's the most likely to kill me first if she discovers what I am. She's claimed me for her Night Guard, and I don't think she takes kindly to betrayal.' Prey thought grimly, moving from picking dead grass out of his wool to disentangling the burrs from the fur of his ears.

Just another annoying consequence of having oversized ears. It always took ages to get out every hooked seed.

Prey saw Crimson watching him work disapprovingly. Or maybe the pegasus was zoned out. "You know if you want to stare judgingly, you could do with a good clean yourself." Prey said, just to make Crimson to stop staring blankly at him. He was tired and it was annoying.

"Pardon?" Crimson asked, recalling himself from whatever he'd been thinking about.

"You've got grass in your own feathers, maybe get rid of it instead of just sitting there?" Prey suggested, not stopping trying to get out a particularly stubborn burr lodged behind his ear. 'How'd that even get up there?'

Crimson frowned and drew back, "No." He said, eyes flicking about them for a moment.

"Oh?" Prey raised an eyebrow. With the way Crimson took meticulous care of his wings, he actually expected the pegasus to have already sorted them out by now.

"Uh, you may not know this Prey, but it's considered... rude by pegasi or thestrals to preen in a public setting." Gloom said, sounding just the tiniest bit uncomfortable. Prey hadn't known that fact about pegasus culture. He never had gotten around to stealing a pegasus's memories. He frowned in annoyance, 'That's something I'll have to correct in the future.'

"Prey, where do you and your family live?" Gloom asked suddenly.

Prey almost flinched. Almost. But he was ready. "I'm not sure how that's relevant to anything, sir." He responded calmly.

'-kid's still so distrustful-', Gloom suppressed a sigh. 

"I just wanted to know if you grew up around other ponies. You've commented how you didn't have a weather team back home, so I was wondering what other basic Equestrian knowledge you might be lacking." He quickly held up a hoof, "Hey, I'm not suggesting we can fill you in. We've not exactly up to date with what's common ourselves, but it might be something to look into..."

Gloom trailed off. Prey was giving him a look. It wasn't annoyed, condescending, or even angry. It was just blank. "What?"

What kind of idiotic suggestion was this? Gloom was basically saying, 'Hey, tell me what you know you don't know, and I'll find someone else to tell you, because I don't know either. Sound good?'

Gloom opened his mouth to find an explanation, then glanced at Crimson, looking for assistance. But either Crimson didn't understand Gloom's look, or he was faking social blindness on this occasion and keeping out of it. 

"Never mind, it's actually not important and I'm too tried for this." Gloom grumbled. He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back on the seat, "I'm taking a nap. If I'm not awake when we get to Canterlot, wake me." He muttered.

Prey went back to looking out the window. Out in the east, Luna's moon was slowly rising above the darkened plains. Because of the flatness of the grass lands, it looked like the moon was actually emerging from out of the grassy horizon. Gone was the mark of The Mare in the Moon that had adorned it for longer than Prey had been alive, it's captive now free. 

Prey still hadn't been informed how exactly Luna's return had taken place, or why she was no longer Nightmare Moon.

It didn't occur to him to just ask. He didn't believe for one second that the official version announced to the public and Guards was the real version of events.

Prey looked back from the window. He noted that Gloom hadn't actually dozed off despite the Sargent's wish to do so. Worries about Hay Steam, the Seed Apple family, Tulip Bed and her son proving to be too much of a distraction. '-I hope to Luna they've found that poor colt by now-'.

Prey doubted it. Whomever had stolen away Rocky Bed had been far too thorough in covering their tracks to get caught. 'I still don't know for certain if that was a sign left for me in the colt's bedroom or not.' Prey thought, or rather hoped to the contrary.

He'd done all he could to prepare, which admittedly wasn't much because he was still a prisoner. But unless any new information came to light, there was nothing further he could do.

Prey checked the time against the mental clock in his head. There was still at least forty minutes before the train arrived in Canterlot, and thirty five more before he needed to speak up and raise the subject.

Thus, Prey decided to spend the rest of the time contemplating the shadowy landscape rushing past outside, his own half reflection looking back at him in the window. Prey jolted and quickly turned his head away. Never mind, he'd spend his time contemplating his hooves instead.

That left nothing but the rocking motions of the carriage and the 'chug-chug-chug' of the train to keep him company in his thoughts.


---


Thirty five minutes came around quickly.

Prey had been keeping track. 'Thirty four and fifty seven, thirty four and fifty eight, thirty four and fifty nine...' Prey hopped off the bench. It was time. 

"I'm going to the toilet." Prey said.

Gloom stirred and blinked his eyes open, "What? Oh, right." He mumbled, sitting up to let Prey out into the carriage isle.

Prey walked down towards the end of the carriage, where it adjoined via door to the first carriage, which itself linked to the engine that pulled them all. The few ponies Prey had to pass gave him the usual assortment of odd looks and thoughts; 

'-little sheep doing here this late?-'
'-wasn't she with those creepy Guards?-'
'-well I'm not getting involved-'

Prey made a show of walking up to the bathroom stall's door in case Gloom or Crimson was watching, and reached for the latch. There he paused as if something had caught his attention, one hoof supporting him against the door, looking sideways into the next carriage. 

Plopping back onto his hooves, Prey turned around and made his way quickly back to his seat.

"Sir," He said in a low voice, catching both Gloom and Crimson's attention, "I just thought you'd like to know that the pony we've been chasing is in the next carriage."

Gloom jerked upright, "What? When, how?" He hissed, all tiredness forgotten. A least he had the presence of mind to keep his voice down.

"Well if I had to guess, I'd say he got in the train at the station, same as us." Prey said bluntly. Which was true. He'd noticed Pebble Mill waiting to board the train at the platform, standing with his suit case and long coat pulled up, trying to look inconspicuous.

Prey'd had a suspicion that Pebble Mill would try and flee on the train, as it was the only way out of Hay Steam that didn't involve lots and lots of walking, but it had still been a fifty-fifty bet. 

The stallion could've just tried laying low until they'd gone, but what about tomorrow? It didn't take a genius to work out they would coming back the next day, along with who knew how many more Guards. Pebble Mill either had to catch this, the last train of the day, or take his chances tomorrow.

Still, the stallion certainly had some guts to try fleeing on the very same train that his Guard pursuers were leaving on. It'd had been a bold plan taking the initiative like that, but too bad for him his gamble hadn't paid off.

"How can you be sure it's him?" Gloom asked, both him and Crimson staring down the isle at the carriage door.

"I saw a family photo in the farm house. I didn't connect the dots until just now when I looked next door, but it's him, I'm sure of it." Prey answered.

"How sure?"

"Certain." Prey answered confidently. Gloom looked into his eyes for a moment, before nodding in affirmation, "Yes. Yes, we're on the correct path." He said to himself.

"What is the plan sir?" Crimson asked, already on his hooves and waiting.

"Which pony is it Prey? There's quite a few ponies in through there." Gloom questioned, joining Crimson in rising to his hooves.

"Earth pony stallion at the back in the far right hoof corner, with the hat and rain coat. Medium height, two toned dark blue and red mane and tail, purple fur, cutie mark of what appeared to be two bees above a triangle from the photo. It's hidden under the coat, but still, you can't miss him." Prey said.

Gloom stopped looking at the door for a moment to give Prey an appraising look, '-are we all just some entry in a catalogue?-' The thestral thought for a second, before refocusing on the situation at hoof.

"Right, here's how we're going to do this," Gloom instructed quietly, "Me and Crimson will go in and arrest him, simple. Hopefully he'll come quietly. Prey, you stay back out of harm's way."

"Wasn't planning on getting involved anyway." Prey said cheerily.

"Sir, we're approaching Canterlot station. We need to act soon." Crimson spoke up.

Gloom grimaced, "Right, let's hurry and get this done." He said, and lead the way towards the carriage door, Prey trailing behind them.

Gloom and Crimson's eyes were fixed on the glass window of the partition door, completely ignoring the other carriage occupants. Looking through the glass, they spotted their target, sitting exactly where Prey had described.

With a nod from Gloom, Crimson pushed the partition door open.

Ripples of attention slowly spread through the passengers, as ponies looked up and noticed the Guards had entering their carriage. Crimson and Gloom were almost to the figure of in the corner before Pebble Mill finally noticed that something was going on and looked up.

From his position back down the other end of the carriage, Prey caught the alarm that flashed across the stallion's features, but Pebble Mill was quick on the uptake and controlled himself. He was a bold one, Prey would give him that, "Can I help ya'?" He asked, pushing his hat brim back. Despite his rustic accent, Pebble Mill's voice was smooth and rich.

"I am Sargent Dusky Gloom of the Night Guard, and I hereby place you under arrest for suspected instigation of riots, fleeing from justice, and destruction of property. Are you going to come quietly or do I need to add resisting arrest to that list?" Gloom asked clearly, letting everyone in the carriage hear his words.

Pebble Mill surreptitiously glanced about, gripping the handle of his suitcase more tightly, but if he was expecting help from any of the other passengers he was sorely disappointed. However he wasn't about to be outdone, "I don't know what ya' going on about Mr. Gloom. I've ain't done nothing, and I'm sure this here is just a misunderstanding."

"Good. If this is a misunderstanding, then it can all get sorted out back at the Guard station and we'll release you from custody with an apology. We're almost at the station already, so I'd suggest you comply and come quietly." Gloom told him flatly, evidently not buying a word of it.

As if on cue, the train started to slow down, the change in the rhythm of the wheels on the track heralding their imminent arrival.

The tension caused by all the watching ponies increased as Pebble Mill failed to produce an answer. Ten seconds, then twenty seconds dragged by in the charged atmosphere. 

"Last chance." Gloom said quietly. 

Pebble Mill threw one last desperate glance around, before his shoulders slumped and he slid off his seat with his head bowed, "I tell ya', yer' making a mistake-" Suddenly he whirled about and bucked his suit case straight at Crimson's face and made a break for the train doors, amid a chorus of of startled screams from the other passengers.

Gloom met him in a flying tackle half way through his attempted escape, coming in from the side and wrapping his hooves around Pebble Mill's middle and sending them both into the carriage wall. Prey didn't move, he just watched the unfolding scene with interest.

Crimson had managed to mostly knock aside the heavy suitcase as it was kicked at him, his quick reflexes keeping him from catching a broken nose, so instead had only taken a glancing blow to the helmet.  Now he'd regained his balance and was looking to enter the scuffle.

Gloom had controlled his roll, and so had come out on top of the collision with Pebble Mill, letting the Earth pony stallion take the full weight of their fall, Gloom's armour making the impact that much harder. However Pebble Mill didn't appear to want to let it to end there.

Prey often dismissed Earth ponies as the weakest, or least threatening of the three pony tribes. However his judgement was made from purely a militaristic viewpoint. 

Magic and flight beat muscle any day. Plain and simple. Unicorns and pegasi posed much more of a threat to Prey than any Earth pony, however that was a bit redundant, since any single one of the three tribes could crush him with their bare hooves. The extra strength an Earth pony possessed was just overkill by that point.

So since Prey would straight up lose to any pony, regardless of heritage, that meant the most dangerous ones were those who could kill him both from a range and up close, or who could attack him as well from the sky as the ground. Meaning unicorns and pegasi. 

However, that didn't mean Earth ponies were weak. Physically, they were on average the strongest and sturdiest. 

Something Pebble Mill now put to the test. He wasn't a small Earth pony stallion, and his life on a farm now aided him in his attempt to escape.

Pebble Mill heaved himself to his hooves, trying to throw Gloom from his back. The disguised thestral hung on grimly, tightening his grip to ensure Pebble Mill couldn't get any leverage or bring his greater strength to bear.

Pebble Mill reared up amid more panicked screams from the other passengers as they scrabbled to get away, unintentionally blocking Crimson as he tried to get close enough to assist. 

The Earth pony was bucking and heaving wildly, but it did nothing to make Gloom relinquish his grip. With a neigh, the stallion tried throwing his head back to headbutt the stubborn Guard clinging to his back. 

That was a mistake.

Gloom was no amateur, and had clearly been expecting that, and turned his head to the side. There was a dull clang and a bellow of pain from Pebble Mill as he headbutted nothing but Gloom's helmet. He staggered, his cry muffled under the shouts of, "Guards! Help! Murder!" From the other panicking passengers. Prey almost laughed at their calls for "Guards!"

Gloom took a chance and shifted his grip from around Pebble Mill's middle to wrap his fore hooves around the stallion's thick neck instead. 

At the same time Gloom flared open his wings in the confined space and started to beat them powerfully. He strained back, dragging Pebble Mill up onto his back hooves in a choke hold, keeping the Earth pony there by continuing to flap his wings and just about managing to hover, helmet plumes brushing the carriage roof.

Pebble Mill beat frantically against Gloom's forelegs in an attempt to breathe, but Gloom just grimaced as the stallion's large hooves struck and kept holding on.

Just then Crimson finally managed to make his way into range, having been blocked by the panicked passengers trying to get away from the fight, preventing Crimson from joining in for fear of injuring one of them.

Pebble Mill was in a choke hold and fast loosing air, and was effectively out of the fight. Or would be soon enough once he finally succumbed to unconsciousness, but Crimson was apparently unwilling to just wait him out.

Crimson drove one wing forwards, striking Pebble Mill full in the gut, driving the last of the breath from the struggling stallion's lungs. 

Pebble Mill's eyes bulged and he sagged, back legs no longer able to support his weight. Too bad for him that Gloom was able to support his weight via Pebble Mill's throat. Crimson wasn't done however, and ignored the shouts and screams from the spectators caused by the violence as he struck again, movements controlled and precise, using no more force than was required to achieve the desired results.

Another two rapid strikes to each side Pebble Mill's barrel, painful but not dangerous, one to each leg joint, Left-Right, Left-Right, finishing up with a joint strike from both wings to each side of Pebble Mill's head, buffeting him with a powerful flap that stunned the earth pony. Crimson's face a picture of focused concentration throughout as he dolled out the calculated strikes.

Eyes rolling, Pebble Mill finally went limp. 

Gloom allowed Pebble Mill's own weight to bear him to the floor as the Sargent alighted atop his downed frame.

Gloom and Crimson looked at each other. A nod passed between them, an understanding of teamwork well executed. 

However now they were left with the mess to clean up. They looked about them, and the stunned and fearful looks of the passengers as they huddled in their seats said it all.

'-outrageous, how could they?-'
'-don't meet their eyes, they might snap again-'
'-I want the Royal Guard back, not these Night Guards-'
'-no better than Nightmare Moon cultists-'
'-I feel sick. Never seen anypony treated like that-'

Prey observed it all from his perch atop one of the benches, where he'd climbed to get a good view of the proceedings. He sneered internally at them, their naivety never ceased to astound him. He understood that most ponies were opposed to violence, (he wasn't overly fond of it himself), but to be so self righteous as to believe that violence was never the answer was blind. 

Gloom cleared his throat and tried to break the silent wall of stares, "On behalf of the Night Guard I apologise that you had to see that. Was anypony else hurt in the fight?" He asked, hoping to soothe the situation.

He was met with nervous silence, none willing to meet his eye and flinching if he looked at them.

Gloom made another attempt, "Mares and gentle colts, I assure you that this was all..." He trailed off, not knowing what he could possibly say that wouldn't just intimidate the watchers even more.

'No need to be scared?' Too late for that. 

'Go home?' Sounded like an order. 

'You should forget about this?' Would make it sound like he was trying to cover something up.

It was a stroke of good fortune then, that right at that moment the train finally pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and came to a stop. "Canterlot station, all change!" Came the conductors call from outside. 

From his vantage point, Prey could see Gloom breathe out a sigh of relief, "If you could all please vacate the train in an orderly manner mares and gentlecolts, and leave this to the Night Guard. Please, try and have a pleasant night." He announced.

It became even more awkward however, when no one moved.

Everyone was unwilling to go first in case it was the wrong move and everyone else abandoned them or something. There was a drawn out pause as all the passengers waited for someone else to be the brave one and go first. Gloom and Crimson waited with growing unease while every other pony on the train, minus the one wheezing on the floor, shuffled their hooves and looked anywhere but at the Guards.

Prey suppressed a sigh of distaste and cleared his throat, "Everypony for himself!" Prey shrieked as loudly as he could, "Run for your lives! Last one out has to stay and testify to the Night Guard!" 

It was almost comical the way that snapped everyone out of their stupor and into panicked flight.

As the mad scramble for bags, coats and the carriage doors commenced amid loud whinnies and neighs, Prey watched untouched atop his bench, until the last frantic mare managed to untangle her tail and made it out the door with a frightened shout of, "Wait for me!"

Gloom heaved a relieved sigh and gave himself a shake, getting rid of the last of the adrenaline running round his system, '-finally-'

Crimson, despite his words earlier about not preening in public, started doing just that, giving his wings a once over. Post fight jitters.

Prey hopped off his perch and strolled over to where Gloom was affixing the pair of hoof cuffs onto the groaning from of Pebble Mill. "Ya' going to regret that...I ain't never forgotten a face." The earth pony mumbled into the floor. His threat was given all the due consideration it deserved and was ignored. 

Gloom gave Prey a look as he came up to them. "You're not helping the Night Guard's public image Prey." He said disapprovingly, but it was only a half hearted remand.

"It got the passengers out of our wool, or in your case mane, didn't it?" Prey responded cheerily.

Crimson let out a quiet snort, "And now they'll go home and tell everypony about the Night Guard brutality." He said flatly with that little disapproving flick of his wing.

"Hey, I wasn't the one who beat him up. Or the one who half strangled him for that matter." Prey said with a shrug. Crimson didn't have an answer to that.

"Still, you'd think after three riots they would've gotten used to a little bit of violence by now," Prey observed, tilting his head and bending down to get a good look at the hoof cuffs Gloom had applied, "The way they all screamed and ran off you'd have thought you were crucifying him to the carriage walls with rusty nails and string out his intestines for the next passengers to find or something."

"That's disturbing. Please never say something like that again, especially in public." Gloom muttered, hauling Pebble Mill to his hooves. 

The earth pony wobbled about, blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Eerghh." He groaned.

Prey could see in his thoughts that the stallion wasn't nearly as dazed as he let on. He wasn't fully cognitive, but he certainly knew what was going on around him once again, but was playing it up to try and stall for time. Prey knew that Pebble Mill hadn't even been knocked fully unconscious. The brain was able to reset itself within minutes. Longer than that though, and you needed to start worrying about permanent brain damage.

"Come on, let's get him back to the palace cells. Crimson, bring his suitcase. Might be it's stolen property, or has something incriminating in it. Either way, it's still in his possession at the time of arrest." Gloom said, starting to steer Pebble Mill towards the door.

Pebble Mill dug in his heels and refused to move. 

"Cut that out. You're already in enough trouble as it is." Gloom snapped.

Pebble Mill just shook his head stubbornly, head lolling about as he did so in a display of confusion, "Wha's I'm doing her'?" He slurred. 

Prey could hear the stallion's panic making him stall for even a few more minutes of freedom, wild plans of escape running through his head.

"Do we need to subdue you again and drag you all across Canterlot's streets?" Gloom threatened. Crimson, who'd retrieved Pebble Mill's suitcase, lifted a wing and took a half step closer.

Pebble Mill was a good actor, for he did not flinch, "Guard brutality." He slurred accusingly, and promptly sat his rear end down. 

Gloom let out a strangled growl, rubbing his eyes, "Crimson, it seems we're going to need assistance to get this...Stallion, moving. Fly up to the Guard Compound entrance and get them to send out a patrol wagon. Tell them what's happened and that Captain Nighthawk okay'd it. Oh, and don't forget that Palace airspace is restricted. Me and Prey will wait...Prey-hey, what are you doing?" Gloom demanded.

Prey looked up from flicking open the last latch on the suitcase, "Finding some motivation of course." He said.

"That was locked." Crimson stated, looking down at the now open suitcase.

"Hey that's mine, git' that lamb away from it!" Pebble Mill demanded hotly, suddenly a lot more lucid.

"Yes it was," Prey said answering Crimson, "But really, one-two-three-four can hardly even be considered a lock. Ah, what have we here?" Prey said, pulling out a heavy pouch from among the messy tangle of clothing. Pebble Mill had definitely packed in a hurry.

"Hey, ya' put that back, yer hear me? That ain't yours and belongs ta' me." Pebble Mill started forwards, but only ended up stumbling and falling over with a groan of pain, the beating Crimson had administered still fresh. Unneeded, Gloom merely lowered the hoof he'd raised to restrain him.

"Prey...." Gloom half asked, half warned as Prey tugged the pouch open, Crimson looking on in mild interest.

"Ah, here we go," Prey announced, pulling out a single gold bit from inside, then turning to Pebble Mill, "You've been causing us quite a bit of trouble you know, Mr. whom-ever-you-are. I don't think an annoying pony like you should have all these bits. Doesn't seem right, does it?" He asked with a bright smile.

"I earned my fair n' square-"

"We are the Night Guard! We do not steal!" Gloom shouted, real anger in his tone.

"Stealing? Who said anything about stealing?" Prey said heading for the grate in the carriage floor, "It's only stealing if we keep it, not if we- oh oops." Prey carefully dropped the bit through the grate with a clink, "My bad." 

Fishing out another coin from the pouch, Prey held it up critically to the light, "Hmm, I estimate there's about fifty bits in here. Forty nine now. Oh wait, forty eight." Prey said, dropping that coin too.

"Ya' can't do that! That's mine. I'm'a report ya' to the Guard." Pebble Mill cried, forcing himself to his hooves, but when Crimson stepped closer, one wing half raised, he stilled. His eyes remained furiously fixed on Prey though, "Oi! You, Sargent Gloomy, she's with ya' ain't she? Keep your lamb under control." He snapped.

"Prey, that's not how we do things." Gloom said disapprovingly.

"What? If he doesn't want to cooperate, it's his own fault. Granted, it's a relatively small amount of money, but either he can come now while he's got forty eight bits left, or afterwards, when he's got no bits left. Why waste our time and also that of the Guards you'll have to pull off shift to come down here just to drag him back-"

"Ya' just assaulted me! I can hardly walk."

"Oh would you look at that, down to forty seven. What a shame." Prey said with mock concern, "Whatever will we do? Oh, I know," Prey held up a fourth coin with a big smile, "How about we-"

"Prey stop it-"

"I'ma report ya!" Pebble Mill shouted.

"Oh dear, forty six. Besides, what are you going to report? Money that you say is missing? Money that none of us will have? Do you really think anyone will believe you?" Prey asked, balancing yet another coin on his hoof.

"Don't ya' dare!"

"I don't hear any movement out that door and towards the dungeons. Guess that means you won't be needing this then-"

"Fine ya' little bucker-!"

"Oops. Forty five."

"Stop it! I'm going, see? Now put my money back!" Pebble Mill said, staggering for the door. When Prey saw that Pebble Mill was indeed moving, he simply pulled the drawstring bag closed again and tossed it back into the suitcase without further comment. He'd gotten what he wanted, so there was no cause to gloat or make any further threats.

Prey moved to walk out after the cuffed and hobbling stallion. He paused, one leg in the air, "Aren't we going?" He asked Gloom and Crimson innocently, "I thought you were tired and in a hurry."

Gloom opened his mouth. The thought of his bunk and rest flashed through his thoughts. 

Gloom sighed and shrugged, "Just this once, no harm I suppose." He muttered.


---


All three of them were tired, hungry, annoyed, and not in the mood to constantly listen to their prisoner's threats by the time they reached the Palace. 

"My lawyer ain't going to stand for this and ya' all gonna' regret this." 

Eventually, Gloom had enough, and informed Pebble Mill of that fact in a tactful way. 

"You have the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it. Else I'm going to exercise my right to tell the kid-Prey I mean, to do what he wants. If I remember, there's still forty five bits to go." 

Which promptly shut the Earth pony up.


------


Now, they'd successfully deposited Pebble Mill in the overnight cells, (apparently these were the only cells that got any regular use) and filled out the paperwork the night warden on duty had given them. Pebble Mill had refused to give any of the details about himself, so for now Prey was the only one who knew his real name, and everyone else knew him as Mr. 'The-Right-to-Remain-Silent'.

Prey was sitting against the corridor wall, while inside, Gloom gave a report to Lieutenant Starry Wing.

"You were not disturbed." Crimson abruptly stated.

Prey kept rubbing one of his sore back hooves without looking up, "You know, just saying things out of the blue without any context doesn't explain anything. I can think of at least sixteen different avenues of possible conversation that we could diverge upon after that statement."

"...I don't follow." Crimson said cautiously.

"No, that's what I'm saying. I can't read your mind-", 'Unfortunately', "-So you're going to have to explain your meaning. This conversation is getting sidetracked enough as it is." Prey said impatiently.

Crimson paused, "What are we talking about again?"

"Once again, that's what I'm asking. You said, 'You were not disturbed', and then we were trying to establish what you meant to ask with that abstract statement." Prey snapped.

Crimson blinked that slow blink of his, "Oh. That." He said. 

Prey waited, but nothing else was forth coming from the cryptic Pegasus. Prey sighed.

"Social etiquette dictates you now ask your question after we've taken so long to get around to it. But since this isn't getting us anywhere, I'll just guess at your meaning instead." Prey told him.

That got a startled flutter of Crimson's wings, his eyes winding almost imperceptibly in apprehension, no doubt recalling every other time he'd seen Prey 'guess' the intentions of a pony, or more accurately verbally picked them apart. 

"No need-" Crimson began.

"You were obviously referring to something that you viewed as disturbing about myself, likely related to an incident earlier today. The four major ones being first, the investigation of Tulip Bed's house. Next, the interview in Hay Steam of Turf Apple, followed by infiltrating his brother's farm, or most recently the fight and subsequent arrest of Mr. The-Right-to-Remain-Silent." Prey said, tapping his hoof on the hard floor as he listed off each incident.

"Now, from your perspective I can deduce that-"

"-I was referring to how you were not disturbed by the fight in the train." Crimson cut in, a tad hastily.

"Should I have been?" Prey asked, pulling a stand of grass out of his wool that he'd somehow missed earlier and discarding it disdainfully.

"On the train. The arrest. Other ponies were scared, and they panicked. Everypony fears violence. That is the correct reaction, not so much in the thestral clans, but here in Canterlot, yes. But you weren't scared. Were you? You did not seem scared. A normal lamb would've been..."Crimson blinked, pausing awkwardly as he seemed to fully process what he was saying. "Oh. Right." He said contemplatively.

Prey offered him one of those sickly sweet, completely insincere smiles that were almost impossible to tell apart from the real deal, "I'm glad we could work through this awkward little social communication exercise together." He said.

"So you were not afraid?" Crimson double checked.

"Of that fight itself? No." Prey answered dismissively. Really, that could hardly even be called a 'fight'. No blood had even been spilt.

"We're you disturbed-?" Crimson pressed.

"We've just been over this." Prey rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"-By me?" Crimson finished.

Prey left aside checking the bandage on his ear and looked up. Crimson's focus was fixed solely on him. 

"Were you expecting me to be? You beat up some pony who I couldn't care less about. Maybe you care, but I don't. I thought this is what you father trained you for. It's a bit late to get cold hooves about your life profession choice, don't you think?" Prey asked, cocking his head.

"That is a ridiculous suggestion," Crimson said flatly, "And I warn you not to insult my father's memory. My father's training was the best thing that ever happened to me. And I am asking why you didn't care."

"Why should I feel guilty? You don't care either, and you're the one who beat him up." Prey retorted. 

"I am a warrior. I was trained for this life style. The fight on the train was necessary. But you're still wrong, I do care. A warrior without a heart is weak. But you should have been disturbed. You are not a warrior, you are..." Crimson struggled to find the word he was looking for, "...A lamb." He finished lamely. 

Prey gave him an unimpressed look. 'I survived abominations that made the Deeper Green weep, you thestral reject. And you somehow think to imply that I am weak?' Prey sneered internally. Then he regretted even thinking about those memories, and had to fight down a shudder. 'Some memories aren't there to be remembered.'

Crimson turned his head stiffly away, "That is not what... Not what I really meant to say. But my point is... Never mind." 

Crimson glared off down the dim corridor rather than look at Prey. The pegasus's mental walls shifted about in frustration at once again being unable to correctly verbalise what he meant to say. 

'Typical side effect of previous social isolation from a young age.' Prey noted dispassionately.

The click of the door handle turning, and the office door being loudly pulled opened, brought both of their attention back to Gloom as he stepped out of Starry Wing's office. The Night Guard lieutenant certainly had been working late, lucky for them. If not, Gloom would've had no one to report about the situation in Hay Steam to. 

"...-finish tomorrow Sargent. And get some sleep for Luna's sake." Came the tale end of the conversation through the door. 

"Yes sir. Goodnight sir." Gloom answered with a weary but still perfectly regulation salute.

A quick check on Gloom's thoughts from Prey revealed they'd been discussing plans for Hay Steam tomorrow. It felt kind of redundant to double check something so blatantly obvious, but Prey did it anyway. Paranoia was healthy.

Gloom nodded tiredly to both of them as he shut the office door with a wing claw. He'd returned the Dusk Pony amulet, and was now back in full thestral form. "Let's go to the mess hall and grab some food." He said to them.

"Dinner was hours ago. There'll be no one-"
"-Nopony."
"-No one there. The cooks will have left and the evening meal will all be gone too." Prey finished, not shifting from his seat against the wall.

"Aren't you hungry?" Gloom asked bluntly.

Prey cocked his head to the side at such a foolish question. Of course he was hungry. None of them had eaten since breakfast, and it'd been a long day full of travel and activity that, frankly, Prey could've done without. He was ravenous, but he didn't see how that mattered since there would be no food, so there was no point in complaining.

"You know we can just raid the kitchen right?" Gloom told him.

"Is that allowed, sir?" Crimson asked.

"No. But I'm too tired and hungry to care. What Cookie doesn't know won't hurt her." Gloom stifled a yawn, "Come on."


------


It was a strange, sitting in the dimly lit and almost silent mess hall. 

The rows of tables and benches that had been filled with Guards the last time Prey had been in here now sat glaringly empty. The lack of Guards definitely helped Prey to relax though. Low burning oil lamps cast the only illumination in the room, but the white marble walls helped to reflect it back and make sure the deserted hall wasn't completely cast into shadow.

They tiredly pulled up at a lone table near the middle of the room and sat round it, or slouched in Gloom's case, stretched in Prey's, or remained stiffly composed in Crimson's as they quietly ate the bread and carrots that they'd raided from the kitchen.

It was an odd feeling. After the hectic, non-stop rush of the day, just sitting and slowly chewing their way through their bland late night meal. 

A thestral Sargent recently returned from exile along with his entire race, a socially unaware warrior pegasus outcast, and a cursed, mind leech runt lamb, sitting round a table breaking bread. 

'There's a joke in there somewhere.' Prey thought, smirking as he chewed on a tough carrot.

It was pleasant, the silence. 

It let Prey contemplate how much longer he might be alive, or what might be waiting in ambush for him once they returned to their bunkroom. Actually, it wasn't pleasant, but it was familiar, and was actually, unbelievably, preferable to talking.

"You did well not to panic on the train today, Prey." Gloom suddenly said. 

'You just had to spoil it.' Prey sighed internally, "Sure." He answered dismissively, hoping the Sargent would take the hint and drop it. 

Of course, Gloom saw it as his duty to '-make sure everything really is fine with my two charges-'. 

"Anything you want to say about that? Any concerns?" Gloom prodded.

"Why're you only asking me? Don't you have any concerns about Crimson?" Prey responded, biting down on his carrot a bit harder than was strictly necessary.

Gloom wasn't so easily deterred by Prey's obvious hint. Gloom turned to Prey, "Crimson, are you okay with the violent nature of the arrest that took place earlier today?" He asked formally.

"Yes sir."

"Good to hear." 

Gloom turned back to Prey, "This isn't to demean you Prey, but things are a bit different out in the clans. We're used to a rougher lifestyle living in the mountains. We have experience, and training. Not to mention we're older."

"This again?" Prey sighed, "You're a bit late to the speech, sir, Crimson already beat you to it while you were giving your report to the Lieutenant."

Gloom blinked and looked at Crimson, "You did?"

Crimson shuffled his wings, but answered truthfully as always, "I suppose I did sir."

Gloom blinked again, "Huh."

"So if you're quite done mocking me because of my age, again, and size, again-"

"This isn't about your age Prey. Or being a runt for that matter. Look, I know that's a sore point for you-"
"Since when?" Prey challenged.

"-But this isn't about that. I haven't forgotten our first talk. But this is a legitimate concern and my point still stands. I have my duty to follow, so; Are you okay?"

Prey dropped the rest of the carrot on the table, annoyance having stolen his appetite, "Look, just because I'm fragile physically doesn't mean I'm fragile mentally." 

That was true and yet so untrue.

"So thank you you for your concern, but no thank you."

"Is that a yes then?" Gloom persevered.

"If I say yes, will you actually believe me and leave me alone?" Prey asked coldly, trying to give Gloom a proper disdainful glare from where he sat low on the bench.

For some reason, rather than frustrate Gloom, Prey's biting response only seemed to serve to encourage the thestral sergeant, "Nope." Gloom replied affecting a grin, yet still maintained his serious attitude, "I'm going to ask you the same thing every time anything like this happens. You may feel it's awkward, but deal with it. And you still haven't actually answered the question." Gloom added with that slightly disturbing crooked grin. Maybe it was the fangs.

Prey flopped his head onto the table in the picture of defeat, "Fine. I'm fine. Completely, one hundred percent, a-okay. Nothing wrong here. Perfect, completely normal. Better even."

"Good. See? It's no big deal Prey. We look out for everypony in the Night Guard." Gloom said. Unseen, Prey rolled his eyes, head still resting on the table. Tired as he was, the hard wood made a remarkably enticing pillow.

"I'm thirsty. Should I search for a jug and water for us sir?" Crimson asked. Maybe he was finding the conversation just as sappy and awkward as Prey was and wanted an escape.

"I got this. And I think we can safely say we're off duty now. With that all over with, it's just Gloom again." Gloom said pushing himself to his hooves. 

"Back in a minute." He called, stifling an enormous yawn as he headed for the kitchen doors.

Soon he returned, bearing some mugs hooked on a wing claw, a small jug balanced on his back, and a bottle wrapped in a twine basket in his teeth. He flipped a mug towards each of them, then poured Prey some water from the jug. But for him and Crimson, he filled up their mugs from the bottle instead with something thick and purple. Looked like it might've been grape.

"Don't think you'd like this. It's from the clans." Gloom said by way of explanation to Prey, hoofing one of the mugs over to Crimson, who took it with a slight frown, peering in at his drink. Gloom gave him a nod and took a sip from his own.

Crimson sniffed it, and his face smoothed back into normal, but his wings fluffed in surprise. He looked at Gloom who nodded at him again. "This-?" Crimson started. Gloom just have him another nod.

Prey closed his eyes and silently scented the air. 'Ah.' He thought, observing Gloom's thoughts. He gave the bottle a quizzical observation, memorising it's style, then shrugged and finished his drink. Water was fine for him.

Prey was just checking the bandage on his ear when there was the sound of hooves at the mess hall doors. They all looked over, "Lieutenant Screech." Gloom said standing up quickly and saluting the thestral in Night Guard armour who'd stepped out of the shadowy doorway.

"No need for that Gloom, I'm off duty." Screech said clopping over, offering a nod to Crimson and, after a moments pause, one to Prey as well.

Gloom relaxed and sat back down, "Good evening then Screech. How was your night? Err, day." He corrected himself.

Screech sighed and slid into the bench next to Gloom, who automatically shifted over to make room for the thestral. "It could have gone better, you know how it is."

"Oh." Gloom said, rather unenlightenly. "Has Bramble Thorn sent back any news?" He tried after a moment.

"Nothing from the clan yet. As far as we know, they're still in Westfallow caves. They haven't even sent a raven. I don't know if they've decided to up sticks and move closer to Canterlot yet, or are still waiting. Princess Luna is keen for them to rejoin Equestria, but..." Screech sighed and rested his chin on his hoof, "The council is always cautious. Too cautious. No offence to your grandfather, Gloom." He added.

"None taken. I know better than anypony he can be a stubborn pain. At least there's the other four council members to keep him contained." Gloom said, waving it off. '-never saw eye to eye with that cantankerous old rain cloud-'

Screech seemed to notice Gloom and Crimson's drinks. He leaned closer and peered at the half empty bottle, "Hey, is this-?" He asked.

"Yes it is." Gloom answered. He glanced sidelong at Prey. "Would you like me to get you a mug, Screech?" He offered.

Screech also glanced at Prey, then to Crimson who looked back blankly, "No, that's fine thanks. You know I never could stomach that stuff." He answered.

"Oh, that's right. Foolish of me, I forgot." Gloom shrugged.

"How's your new position? The ISND going well?" Screech asked, changing topic.

Gloom hesitated, "It's...going." He allowed.

Screech nodded in understanding, "Ah. I see. We're always available to help a fellow Night Guard if you need it." Screech offered. 

Gloom nodded in acceptance, but didn't speak. Evidently Screech and Gloom knew each other from before they came to Canterlot on their moon goddess's wishes. Screech seemed like a distant uncle, or perhaps a teacher figure.

"Is her majesty well?" Gloom asked after a minute of them all sitting in silence, Crimson and Gloom sipping their drinks while Prey was thinking on plans for the coming night.

"Princess Luna is in excellent health." Screech replied straight away. Then he sighed and took his helmet off, resting it on the table top. Underneath, he looked almost as tired as Gloom did. "To tell the truth..." He glanced at Crimson and Prey cautiously.

"What? Think we're going to run off to the Royal Guard, who're oh so friendly to us? Maybe spread gossip all over the Palace like some scullery maid?" Prey asked opening up an eye, head still resting on the table.

"Sir, I swore loyalty to her majesty, and that means loyalty in everything." Crimson stated flatly. He looked like he might have been offended, but as always, how could you tell with him?

Screech's ears went up in surprise as he looked at Prey. 

"Yes, that's Prey, don't let him get to you, he surprises everypony." Gloom told Screech with a slight smirk, before he let it fade, "What is the problem with her majesty? Is it a fault with the Night Guard?" Gloom asked, serious again.

Screech sighed again and lent back in his seat, "This is only me talking, and it's just my own private concerns, but I don't think Princess Luna is adjusting as well as she would like."

"A thousand years is a long, long, long time to be gone. I don't imagine I'd be able to readjust so quickly from everything I knew being here one minute and gone the next when she re-awoke." Gloom said.

"It's more than that. Again, this is just personal, but it seems like when I attend with Captain Nighthawk to report to Her Majesty, that's she's...Just, putting on a brave face almost. I think that everypony still being hung up on the demon is hard on her. Did you know that in the last two weeks, only three ponies have attended her Night Court?" Screech asked.

Gloom merely shook his head.

"Surely Princess Celestia must help Her Majesty." Crimson said.

"Of course she does. Her majesty cares a great deal, I'm sure nopony could be happier than her about Princess Luna's return. Princess Luna loves her sister too. But I just fear that Princess Luna doesn't tell her majesty everything. She's said previously how she doesn't want to increase her sister's burdens with other royal duties, so, I dunno', I guess I just worry that maybe she won't ask Princess Celestia for help or something." Screech confessed.

Prey sneering at them internally, 'Weak? Unsure? You're talking about an alicorn you fools. Power incarnate. They don't get lonely. You all obviously have no idea what you're talking about, just drawing parallels with what you expect and your own experiences.' He thought. 

The very idea that Luna might be angsty was laughable.

Sure, he expected that Celestia and Luna did have emotions, but he also imagined their feelings came secondary to calculated instinct, not something mortals could understand. If they allowed themselves to show emotion, it must be just that, a show. An act to garner trust and reassure their subjects.

There was another quiet in the deserted mess hall as the three ponies thought dejectedly about their princess, wishing they could do better, and reflected on their own roles within her Night Guard. 

Well, two of them thought that. Crimson probably did too, but Prey couldn't know for certain. Just ninety five percent.

Screech was tapping his hoof absentmindedly on the table, and had been doing so for the last minute. As his thought process finished up the light drumming reached its finale, "Right," Screech said pushing himself off the bench, "Sorry for taking your time. No doubt you're as tired as me, so I won't keep you from your bunks any longer. Luna watch over you." He said by way of goodnight. "You two as well." He added to Crimson and Prey as he left.

"Come on. We'd best try and get some sleep before tomorrow. Or this morning, I don't rightly know anymore." Gloom yawned, standing up as well.

'Curses.' Prey thought. 

He still hadn't come up with a satisfactory back up plan in case there was an ambush or trap laid in the bunk room by whomever had kidnapped Rocky Bed. Well, it was too late for that now. At least Luna didn't seem to have discovered his test rune. Or at the very least, she didn't care enough to come and kill him. Yet.


---I---