It watches the ponies from a distance. These woods have long been among its hunting grounds. Reality was thin in the cave a few miles back, and it allows a passage between the domain of its kin and the mortal realm.
They call it the Slender Pony, but only in this world. Its presence is known across many worlds. Yet, the means to defy it are known to few. These apples ponies however seemed shielded against it. It had long stalked the older mare, but she knew its weakness; playthings imbued with disgusting love. She seemed to have enough of the cursed things mixed with living felines that it barred him from her home. And the younger mare... she was connected to the elements, and had already used it against Discord.
Though, it was not concerned. The plans of its kin were set in motion. Soon the world would be a playground for it and its kind. And these ponies would either be reduced to helpless prey, or join in the feastivities.
Still, better to enjoy the hunt while it was still a challenge.
It stalked off to find some mortal to slake its appetite for fear and desperation. Suddenly, it hears a noise. A cave lies not a hundred hooves away, and he can hear breathing. Some mortal has cornered themself in the cave. Maybe a camper or a lost hiker, it makes no difference. It senses no love in the area, so it is free to hunt.
It phases into the cave, tight against the wall. It enjoys when they don't see it right away. The game is much more entertaining. It phases again, looking with no eyes for the source of the breathing. It knows there's something here.
Strange… it knows the smell of mortals. All the flesh, blood, the scent of the earth that they were formed from. Yet this smells different. It's not living, but not dead either. There’s something else in the air. It smells almost like one of its kin. But it would have sensed it if one of them were present.
It looks around the cave and realizes something that gives it pause. It's too dark to see. It has no eyes, but it has seen the darkest night as clear as daylight... yet this darkness is too deep for it to see. A creature like it should not be struck by such mortal limitations, so why is the darkness suddenly making it uneasy?
It takes a step and feels something snap beneath its hoof. In the past, it had stepped on twigs while hunting in the woods. The sudden noise instills sweet fear in its prey during the hunt. Yet it had never done so unintentionally. It expects to find it had stepped on a tree branch or a small rock that rolled into the cave.
Instead, it finds bone. No, the construct of a bone. The creature the bone belonged to was not native to the mortal world. It stinks of unspeakable thoughts and dark magic. It was one of the Black Goat’s Young. The curse had given it form from the thoughts of this world.
It looks into the Young’s past to see its fate. The rumor that spawned it was a plague of a creature; a great six winged serpent that manipulated others into torture and murder so it could feed on bloodshed and death. No wonder that story was among its cousin’s plans.
Yet… the Young is dead. It does not feel even a lingering scent of the curse that spawned it. Even in death, it should have left a scent. The Outer Concepts occasionally leave stains on the world, especially when their physical form is destroyed. Yet, there is no trace of even the copper aroma of blood or the stink of decayed flesh. Even the bones are no longer mere bones. They were stripped of all trace of life, rendered as rock like the bones of those ancient giant reptiles that mortals dig in the dirt for.
The essence of the Young is picked clean. How can it be? The plan is only just beginning. The fog was only just rolling in. How can this one be dead so soon? Could it have been killed by one of its siblings? It sees breaks and gashes in many of the bones. It sees claw marks. It sees teeth marks. The bones turn to ash, and the ash turns to nothing as it watches. With the curse gone, nothing can keep it in existence. It is as if it was never there. It wonders if the serpent was the only one destroyed, or if more Young have met their end here.
Then it hears the breathing again.
It turns and peers into the dark. It still sees nothing, but it feels a presence. It senses eyes looking back at it, and it feels familiar. The presence reeks of the same lust for the kill, the desire for fear and pain, the hunger to destroy that it feels. It senses a darkness that it has never beheld in a mortal soul before. Yet, this presence is not one of its kind. But if it isn't one of its kind… what is it?
Two pinpricks of yellow light appear in the darkness, and it takes a step back. It... feels afraid? Why is it afraid? It is not some half-breed like the Young. It is the great Slender One! An Outer Concept of unknowable fear and dread. No mortal can face one of its number and survive.
Except...
It remembers a story its cousin told once. Of the one mortal who ever outwitted one of his avatars, and devoured his powers for himself. One whose darkness was on par with its cousin. It would never admit it, but the possibility made it feel uneasy. But that mortal has been dead for thousands of years. … Except for an incident a millennium ago when it somehow became the first to ever escape Havoc’s domain. But it had been sent back to its damnation. Surely this could not be…
"Welcome to darkness, abomination." The voice in the dark hisses, its eyes flashing with bloodlust to rival its own. It hears sniffing and the smacking of lips. "It has been so long since I've tasted your kind. The serpent was exquisite, but you… I smell so much more power in you. And I still hunger..."
It ran. It ran as fast as its slender legs could carry it out of the cave and into the woods. It did not matter where it was going, as long as it was far away from the darkness in that cave. It did not stop until it was well past the apple ponies' house. It felt that place would ward off the thing it had confronted, just as it had been kept at bay. Or it hoped it would.
It decides the forest is no longer suitable hunting grounds. When it sees its cousin, it will tell him of the creature and let him deal with it when he remakes the world.
...That cave the dark creature was hiding in was only a mile away. Perhaps it should keep moving. Or get to the shortcut to Cousin Ponythulu's place and lay low until the plan starts.