//------------------------------//
// 32.2 If a tree falls in the Night... 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//

Quietly, and with very little fuss, twelve Night Guard thestrals lined up on the darkened Parade Ground. 

They stretched their wings and prepared for a long endurance flight over Canterlot. The moonlight played over the Palace behind this squad, rendering it in faint silvers and blacks. The unlit state of the Parade Ground posed no problem to the ponies using it.

Ten of the selected thestrals had a sealed glass beaker of tracer solution hung on cords about their necks. Once they began their flight sweep, each would split up to a distance of a hundred yards and fly in a staggered line. The remaining two thestrals were there to act as messengers for when, or if, the ten found something. 

The tracers were still only accurate to two hundred yards. As such, the rest of the available Night Guard would remain here as a reactionary force, waiting for the signal. But they were ready to rush out and lock down any area of Canterlot at a moment's notice.

If a Royal Guard or passing servant noticed the figures moving on the dark Parade Ground, they would be told it was just a "night time training exercise". Corporal Humming was one of the ten selected thestrals, and would be the officer in charge on the sweep. She was nodding as Screech finished finalising the intended flight plan.

"Yes sir. I'll halt the formation and send one of the messengers back the moment we find anything."

"Good. Sargent Gloom, can you think of anything else to add?" Screech asked, half turning to the ISND, who stood near by in the darkening night.

Gloom glanced at Prey and Crimson, the first of whom shrugged and the second who just shook his head, "No sir, nothing further."

"Thank you. Corporal Humming, Luna's speed and night watch over you." Screech said to Humming as she saluted.

"Yes sir. I'm certain she will." Humming acknowledged, falling back into line as the other thestrals finished their warm up.

Corporal Humming didn't give a verbal order. She simply unfurled her leathery wings, almost pitch black against the night, and took off without a word. The rest of the squadron took off equally silently in synchronisation behind her. They rapidly gained height and were soon lost to Prey's eyes.

Gloom and Crimson however could track the squads flight path for much longer, and Prey watched where they were watching, estimating from their gazes that the squadron had begun the split up already. Corporal Humming wasted no time it seemed.

Prey thought it unlikely Humming would find anything in the next few hours, and had shared his observation.

Corporal Humming was beginning the sweep from the closest point outwards, meaning she would be checking the area surrounding the Palace first. Prey doubted any drug dealers would be living in Upper Canterlot. Still, the search had to begin somewhere. It was all on Humming and her squadron to find this pony now.

All of this was of course assuming the drug dealers really had fallen for the ploy and taken the bait

And as long as the scout wasn't a unicorn who only read with magic. 

Prey was still angry at himself for missing such an obvious possibility.

Prey noticed how Gloom's jaw had started to set again as he watched the squadron disappear. The laughter session in the shower had helped the Sargent, but the grim pressure was creeping back into his thoughts. Not as bad as before, Gloom was ready to do his duty whatever came, but reality still had to be faced.

Screech finally turned away from watching the thestrals that Prey couldn't see and addressed them, "Captain Nighthawk should be back by now. He wants to see the ISND to discuss progress." Screech said with a nod as he left.

"Yes sir." Gloom acknowledged.

Prey got tiredly to his hooves. There had been a lot of walking again today, and his hooves hurt. Again. Not that it was anything new. He did hope they'd actually be getting something to eat tonight. Sleeping on an empty stomach was no fun. Not that anything was ever better on an empty belly. Except maybe getting kicked repeatedly in the stomach until you threw up. 

Actually, vomiting could also be included on that short list too.

"Do you think that our pony will really be marked sir? I mean, do you think the salt dealers would've noticed our ploy with Leaflet Spring and sent a scout already? It's been less than a day." Crimson asked.

"Too late to do anything else now. We've already applied the marker. We have until two am on the day after tomorrow. If we find nothing tonight, well, we have another chance at sweeping the city before the marker fades." Gloom said.

"The ISND does seem to operate a lot on 'if's', 'maybe's', and 'hopefully's'. We never have enough time for anything proper." Prey grumbled, stretching out a stiff hind leg. This wasn't the first time he'd pointed this fact out, and it likely wouldn't be the last either. Eventually, Gloom would have to take the hint and completely change up the way the ISND worked. But not right now. There just wasn't the time.

"Yeah. Alright, on to Captain Nighthawk's office." Gloom said despondently, leading the way back into the palace.


---


Thankfully, mercifully, wonderfully, the meeting with Nighthawk was short and quickly over.

That did not mean however it was any less dour and heavy. Gloom gave their report on what they'd done, found, and their plan with the tracer Future Spark had made for them.

Nighthawk was already well informed of all they were doing, having heard it all from Starry Wing himself, but still he wanted to check in with Gloom. However, the meeting soon moved on from simple checking to what Nighthawk had to share with them.

The four murder victims identities had finally been confirmed. 

The descriptions the ISND had provided earlier had served to confirm the last outstanding identification. It was the Earth pony, Mango Nut. Terry Golf however was not among the two unicorns slain, meaning he was still at large.

The other three mutilated corpses had belong to the pegasus mare, Crystal Winds, and the two unicorns stallions had respectively been Forward Momentum and Express Pill Junior. Prey didn't care about their names, only about what else might've been discovered about them.

Crystal Wind had no immediate family, nor owned any property within Canterlot. Only a small cloud home above the city. The thestral sent to search the cloud house had returned less than an hour ago to report that the house mysteriously disappeared two nights ago. Prey knew no one would ever find it.

Mango Nut on the other hoof did have immediate family, or rather had. An aged mother and father, and an estranged brother. His parents had been informed. That was where Nighthawk had been. He'd taken on the responsibility of delivering the news himself.

He'd done the same for the family of Forward Momentum too. A pregnant wife, who in Nighthawk's memories had broken down before he'd even gotten the first word out. She'd been waiting in rising fear for her husband's return for two days. She'd known what Nighthawk was there for the moment she opened the door.

Express Pill's family wasn't on record. He'd moved to Canterlot seven years ago, and it wasn't known from where. Deceased notices would have to be sent out to the other major Equestrian cities for the local Guard to look into.

Nighthawk recited all this to the ISND in a gruff monotone. He didn't need to display any emotion for it to be clear he was still thinking about those two families he'd broken the news to. 

Four ponies, four people who'd each had their own lives, hopes, jobs, ambitions, private fears, joys and dreams. Prey rubbed at the end of his ear, 'Not anymore.' 

Gloom gravely thanked Nighthawk for keeping them up to date, and repeated the four names to himself with a focused look in his eyes. 

'-engrave them on my mind so I never forget why our duty is so important-'

Four more names. But named or nameless, they still weigh just as heavily. Four more didn't even make a noticeable difference to Prey's heap at this point. He knew he wouldn't be forgetting those four names now though. He never forgot. Even after all these years though, he still had yet to figure out whether it was better to have a name or not.

When you knew, you wished you didn't, and when you didn't, you wished you knew.

Nighthawk dismissed them, returning to the stacks of paperwork demanding his attention building up on his desk. From his observations, Prey estimated that the Night Guard Captain got about as much sleep nightly as the ISND did. In other words, not enough. That might be exploitable in the future. 

Prey considered possible scenarios in which he might be placed to take advantage of Nighthawk's sleep schedule as the ISND made their way to the dinning hall.

Surprise, surprise, they'd missed dinner again, and had to scavenge left overs from the last two cooks left on clean up duty before it was thrown away. Throw away food? How unbelievably idiotic and staggeringly wasteful was that?

Mashed potatoes, mixed with cold green beans and carrot pieces. It was actually one of Cookie's less awful meals to date. Still, they hardly tasted it. All three of them were too focused on what Humming and her squadron were doing out there in the night.

Had the drug dealers taken the bait? Would the tracer work? 

Everyone already knew they were likely to get one false alarm tonight, because the clerk who'd fetched them the folder would've certainly gotten some on his hooves too when he took it back. As such, the Night Guard weren't going to go kicking in the door first, asking questions later on this mission, but actually checking who's house it was first. Then kicking the door in.

Since one find was already guaranteed, the real question was, would Humming's sweep turn up a second?

That's what they were waiting for as they sat in the now familiar scene of the empty mess hall. Eating, thinking their private thoughts, and wondering if they were going to have to dash off into Canterlot again to arrest somebody.

They were all tired, as always. It seemed to be a perpetual state of existence in the ISND. Prey was also nervously considering his coming nights sleep. The longer he stayed awake, the more tired and thus more likely he was to fall too deeply asleep. He couldn't risk Luna noticing his dreams again. Last night had been far too close.

Finished eating, they all exchanged glances. 

"Now what? Sleep, wait, or keep working?" Prey asked what they were all thinking.

Gloom opened his mouth to say, '-work-', but hesitated.

"What do you think would be the best use of our time? Considering we might get called out at any time." Gloom asked instead, deciding to ask them instead of making the decision as the Sargent. Things had changed in the last two days. Some for the better, more for the worse. One of them was Gloom's decision to ask for his two subordinates opinions more.

It was unnecessary to voice that they'd all rather be resting, they all already knew that. But it would be slacking off on their duty, something two out of the three of them felt very strongly about.

"If we are going to be called out in a few hours time, I don't think there's any point in trying to rest sir." Crimson spoke up.

"Humming-"

"That's Corporal Humming, Prey."

"Of course, sir. 'Corporal' Humming might not even find anything tonight. We'll be even more exhausted tomorrow if we stay up waiting all night for an alarm that never comes." Prey pointed out.

Gloom's thoughts couldn't help but turn in longing towards his soft bunk.

'-I really wish we were working the night shifts and not these day shifts mixed with whenever shifts-'

"Alright," Gloom decided, "We'll pull a guard shift for a couple of hours. If nothing happens by then..." He shrugged, "It's not like we weren't getting much sleep anyways. What's another night on top of that?"


---


The night was warm, with drifting clouds covering half of the sky. However, right above Canterlot, the sky was clear of clouds, letting the moon shine down unobstructed. Like an enormous sky light.

'Did Luna purposefully have weather teams clear the sky above Canterlot so she could admire her moon rise?' Prey wondered. After one thousand years imprisoned there, how could she stand the sight of it? Prey knew he never wanted to see Dreverton again, unless it'd suddenly become active again and was erupting.

'One thousand years. That's a long time. That's seventeen and a half times as long as I spent languishing in Dreverton...What did she do for that thousand years?'

Was Luna imprisoned in the moon, or was she on the moon? Did she have a physical body or did she exist as a spirit? How about her mental state. Was she conscious for those thousand years?

One thousand years. No sight, no sound, no air, just the sucking cold of the void. Could you even scream on the moon? With no one to hear you, nothing but your own thoughts to torture yourself with.

Prey didn't know why Luna had gone mad a millennia ago, and he probably didn't want to. But one thousand years with only your own madness for company under those conditions... It was not something that even Prey could imagine.

Prey could well understand why Nightmare Moon had wanted to destroy the world on her return. When you're that bitter, scared, mad and alone, the only way out you can see was the destruction of everything else.

Right or wrong didn't enter into the equation. The only way to make it better was to make it all burn. To make it fair. Prey looked up at where the Mare in the Moon used to be. He wondered again what secret method Celestia had used to subdue and brainwash her younger sister back from a mad demonness into obedience. 

Prey rubbed the golden bands on his fore legs together, 'Luna was only ever the lesser of the two evils.' 


------


A thestral messenger spiraled out of the night sky, alerting the Night Guards on standby that Humming had succeeded even before he called out his message. 

"We found them! East Lower Canterlot, on Natal street, Corporal Humming requests help in locking down the block." 

Even if there had been any Royal Guards around to overhear, they still wouldn't have heard any reason as to why Humming wanted the block locked down.

The thestrals posted here of course didn't need the reason. They knew what was going on, and were already flapping up into the air after the wheeling messenger before the echoes had even faded. The only Night Guards trusted to work on this case were the thestrals, meaning that none had any trouble in following the messenger back up into the night.

With just one exception. The ISND. Or more specifically, one flightless exception. Prey.

Not for the first time, Gloom was left keenly wishing Prey was a thestral, or at least a Pegasus. '-things would be so much easier if we could all fly. Or if he would let one of us carry him-'

"Oh, so sorry I was born a sheep and a runt at that. My bad." Prey said sarcastically.

"I didn't say anything!" Gloom protested.

"You didn't need to, you were thinking it."

Gloom didn't waste time denying it. They were already falling behind the other Night Guards, and since they would have to follow on hoof, that gap would only increase.

For a moment Gloom looked Prey over and considered; '-worth it to just grab Prey and fly off anyway?-' 

It was a good thing Gloom made the right choice. For all of their sakes.

"Running it is then," Gloom grunted in dissatisfaction, "You'd better keep up Prey." He called back, already picking up speed.


---


Prey was no stranger to running. Just recently, the ISND had been involved in many situations involving getting from point A to point B as fast as possible. There was the time chasing Pebble Mill, running to Seed Apple's farm, Copper Pot's interrogation, etcetera.

And way before any of that, Prey had been an expert at running away.

However that was then, and this was now. Back in the Deeper Green, Prey's size hadn't impeded him. Being able to duck and squirm through anything was just as important, if not more so, than raw speed when trying to escape from a chimera. You were likely to break an ankle if you weren't agile, which was just as fatal as not running fast enough. Prey was good at that sort of obstacle course running.

His straight line speed was another matter. Down these open and empty Canterlot streets, where there was no need for ducking and weaving,  Prey's natural disadvantage as a small runt came into harsh focus.

Gloom had told Prey to keep up. Following his order was proving to be an issue. Gloom and Crimson weren't even galloping at full speed, let alone sprinting. As Prey sucked air into his protesting lungs, he had no doubt the two full grown ponies could've increased their speed significantly, and still reached Natal Street without breaking a sweat. 

'Curse this pathetic runt body!' By this point, such cursing had lost any meaning.


---


The crystal street lamps cast pools of light which they ran through, passing the neat but tightly packed homes of Lower Canterlot on either side. 

They took a right over a gaudily decorated stone bridge spanning a lower street, and Gloom slowed their pace as they emerged onto Natal Street. 

They came to a cautious stop.

If you only looked at the areas the street lamps illuminated, you would've missed the Night Guards perched in the shadows, and dismissed the odd flash of yellow slitted eyes as belonging to wandering cats.

But if you did notice and did look, you might've seen how the thestrals were thinly spaced, positioned up and down the street so as to not leave any house or side street unobserved. 

The ISND cantered up to the closest Night Guard, weaving around the pools of street lamp light as they approached the closest such hidden sentinel. 

"Where's Corporal Humming?" Gloom quietly asked as soon as they were close enough. Much as Prey had predicted, Gloom was barely out of breath, unlike himself, who was gulping down air like a stranded fish.

"The search squadron is still slowly sweeping the area sir. They are trying to narrow it down further." The Night Guard answered, pointing up at the sky. 

Panting, Prey looked up. If he concentrated, he could just about see the occasional dark patches of bat winged shaped sky passing against the pin pricks of star light. They were keeping well above the street's light, and obviously shielding the glow from the vials of tracer solution they carried. If not, it would've looked like a number of giant fireflies were circling.

"Good, please go and inform Corporal Humming of our arrival. We'll hold your post until you get back." Gloom ordered, still lightly prancing on the spot to stop his muscles from burning after the run, Crimson doing the same. Prey just slumped against the wall and focused on trying to breathe again.

The Night Guard nodded and with a, "Yes sir," And took off up into the night to search for the Corporal.

Two minutes and forty three seconds later, (Prey was counting), he was back. 

"The Corporal asks that you help cover the end of the street. Once she's narrowed the sweep down to the right house and is ready to move in, she says she will send for you, sir." The Night Guard relayed.

"We'll go do that." Gloom nodded in agreement, setting off for the end of the indicated street, Crimson following just behind. Stifling a groan as his wobbling legs protested, Prey pushed himself off his considerately placed supporting wall, and stagger-limped after them. 

Humming wasn't trying to subvert the ISND by sticking them on the side lines, she was merely doing what thestrals did and being practical. Humming was busy and in the middle of an ariel sweep, and the ISND could help her by more thoroughly securing the area instead of just standing around waiting.

Four minutes, eleven seconds later, Corporal Humming herself swooped down and pulled up to hover above them. She spoke quietly so it didn't carry, "Hello sir, good to see you. We have identified our target as being somewhere inside that building, and confirmed it's not the clerk." She pointed at one of large, three story houses. 

"There's multiple ponies living in there. We're going to storm all the rooms at once. Wait two minutes, then we'll all converge. You're on point sir. I just have one last sentry to inform." Humming said, now pointing towards a patch of darkness where another Night Guard was stationed. 

"Yes corporal. Two minutes." Gloom confirmed. Humming nodded and flapped up back above the street lamps to complete her task.

"Two minutes." Gloom repeated in a low voice.

"One minute, forty eight seconds." Prey corrected.

"Orders sir?" Crimson asked, eyes locked on their target building. There were five bright lit windows on this side alone, so at minimum, there were five ponies awake and active in there.

"Do as Humming says," Gloom said, forgetting to add the title of 'Corporal' in the moment. "Prey, stay behind us. Let me and Crimson do any breaching. We're going in through the front door."

'-here we go. Will there need to be any violence?-'

"One minute twenty." Prey sounded off.

"If they try to run?" Crimson asked quietly, slowly limbering up his wings.

"Then stop them. Gently, if possible." Gloom answered back.

They waited. 

"Thirty seconds." Prey said.

"...Three, two, one, zero."

"Here we go." Gloom muttered, expressing the same sentiment from earlier and stepped out from the shadows. Up and down the street, bat winged shadows emerged too as they saw the ISND serve as the signal. Some approached from the ground, some the air, but they all converged silently on the house.


---


There were two ways Gloom could've approached opening the front door.

Knocking on it, or kicking it down. Gloom decided they were using the second approach, regulations be damned. Sure, there were certainly innocent bystanders inside, but there was at least one guilty party too.

In a motion very reminisce of their first attempt to gain entry into the abandoned house yesterday, Gloom turned around, lined up the door's lock, and shouted, "This is the Night Guard. Step away from the door!"

This door turned out to be a lot less sturdy than the reinforced door of the secret salt den. 

It splintered open with a crash on Gloom's first kick, leaving the door handle and lock still attached to the frame. From somewhere inside the house came a shriek of surprise, followed by another one of fear as the rest of the Night Guard surrounding the building took Gloom's entry as a sign of how to proceed and copied him.

Windows broke and more doors splintered as the thestrals forced their way in, the noise shockingly loud in the quiet night. 

Crimson was the first of the ISND into the house, the reason being Gloom had to regain his balance from breaching the door, and Prey had no intention of rushing headlong into an unsecured building. That's what the rest of the Night Guards were for.

Prey let Crimson and Gloom charge on ahead, leaving him abruptly alone outside. More sounds of breaking objects and frightened ponies being rudely awakened continued to echo out. It was making quite the cacophony of noise. 

Prey put his hoof to the damaged door frame and left a rune as he carefully stepped over the collapsed door. Some mare was screaming blue murder up the stairs. Quite literally. 

"Murder! Murder! Murder!" 

Prey scoffed as he entered. There was no murder, her screams held nowhere near enough raw horror for that.

A Night Guard dashed out of one of the ground floor rooms, the kitchen by the looks of it, barely managed to skip around Prey without colliding and kept going up the stairs. Prey didn't hurry to follow him. He took his sweet time, examining the building as he went, checking for any traps or anything else of importance.

If the Night Guard wanted to set off any traps for him, that was fine, but he wasn't going to rush into an unsecured area. His time in the Resistance had drilled that habit into him.

The shortest route is always trapped. So is the second shortest route. And so is the safe route you thought you cleared yesterday. It didn't even have to be a Border Guard ambush, simply a tangle viper. Both killed you just as dead.

Heading for the stairs, Prey peeked into each room as he passed, getting glimpses into the lives of their occupants.

Many worn looking doors that'd previously been locked had been kicked down, revealing the building had been split up into lots of separate apartment rooms. The residents who were renting these rooms were all cornered against their flat walls by at least one or more thestral Night Guard.

As expected, the pony residents were panicking. 

The reassurances the Night Guards were trying to give them if they would; "Just remain calm and follow instructions" were doing little to help.

Stay calm? Don't panic? You try that when strange, slit eyed, bat winged ponies break down your door in the middle of the night, proceeds to back naturally skittish ponies into a corner, and says, "We're here to help."

It wasn't hard to see why it wasn't being believed.

Prey idly wondered if someone outside would hear the noise and be brave enough to call the Royal Guard. That would be interesting to explain.

Prey placed another couple of minor runes around as he climbed up to the first, then second floor as he searched for Gloom and Crimson. He saw more re-purposed apartment rooms, four to a floor, with Night Guards blocking each door. Inside of one that Prey snuck past, he saw a Night Guard waving a tracer vial back and forth above a fearful looking Earth pony's hooves, no doubt trying to work out if the glow got brighter or dimmer.

"You destroyed my door! Completely unnecessary, you'd best hope you're going to pay for that. I demand to speak with my lawyer!" Someone else was shouting. 

Prey paused and looked up at the ceiling, 'Found you.' He thought, making a mental note of the position of the room above him on the top floor. Above, he could hear the thoughts of Gloom. Walls and floors were no barrier to the mind.


---


Only two of the four apartment rooms up here were occupied. Prey made straight for the one which held Gloom, Crimson, and Humming, along with whichever pony it was that they'd captured.

Prey casually walked in through the busted door and took stock. 

Crimson had a frightened looking pegasus backed into a corner next to a messy bed, the stallion's wild mane indicating he'd recently been occupying it. 

"It's him, he's the one. I'm sure of it!" Corporal Humming said, triumphantly waving the vial of brightly glowing tracer solution near the pegasus's hooves. "And don't even think about trying to run. Although you're more than welcome to try. Make my night." She told him aggressively.

Crimson had his wings half unfurled as he guarded their suspect/confirmed perpetrator, and looked ready to drop the other pegasus if he made so much as a threatening twitch.

The captured pegasus was a splotchy green and light blue, with a lanky build and close cropped mane and tail. No doubt that was to help cut down air drag. He'd likely picked this top floor apartment so as to be closer to the window and sky. Too bad for him Humming had busted in through said window before he could wake and flee.

"What're you doing in my house?" The pegasus demanded, voice afraid. '-how? Already? But when did?-'

"We ask the questions here." Gloom told him, voice cold.

"I want to know what's going on-"

"-Shut it." Humming snarled. It was a good snarl, plenty of fangs and a good growl mixed in. 

The pegasus 'shut it'. 

Humming nodded to Gloom and stepped aside, signalling this was now in the ISND's hooves.

"Let's start simple," Gloom said, stepping up to replace Humming in standing uncomfortably close to the pegasus, "What's your name?"

"I'm Oyster Pinion, but-"

"Oyster Pinion, where were you between the hours of seven and nine this evening?" Gloom interrupted. Beside him, Prey walked quietly up and purposefully into Gloom's periphery to let the thestral know he'd arrived. Gloom gave Prey a quick nod before demanding again, "Where were you between seven and nine?"

Oyster Pinion snapped out of staring in a daze at Prey, and tried to come up with an answer. 

"I'm, er, not sure. Just around I guess?" He lied. It was a very obvious lie too. The way his ears twitched back and his eyes went off to the side gave him clearly away.

"You know," Gloom said, rotating his hoof through the air, "I'm tired of doing all of my interrogations this way. I'm bored of asking questions we both already know the answer to, just to give you a chance to come clean. I'm sick and tired of all that so I'll just skip to the chase. Who sent you to the Record's Hall?"

"Nopony, I was just going to look up my family history."

"Lies. You went to the active records desk, not the archives. Who sent you?"

"Nopony did, I swear-"

"Who sent you to steal Leaflet Spring's records!" Gloom abruptly shouted into Oyster's face.

"Aiee! I don't know I don't know!" Oyster cringed, ducking under his wings. 

In his fright, the pegasus had just unintentionally confessed that he had been sent after Leaflet's records. They'd already known, but there was always the one percent chance this had all been one big coincidence.

'-it worked-', Humming grinned.

'-they took the bait-', Gloom thought. "And who were they?" He pressed.

"I, I don't know who you're talking about." Oyster stuttered, back to lying again.

"Who was it? Who do you work for!?"

"There's nopony, there's nopony I tell you! Please! It was, it was all just me."

To Prey it looked like Gloom and Humming were both getting ready to launch a joint verbal assault on the blatantly guilty pegasus, when there was a knock from the busted in door. 

"Corporal Humming ma'am." A Night Guard called, poking his head in.

"What is it?" Humming asked, not turning.

"We've gathered all the other residents on the ground floor I've assured them this is all Night Guard business on Princess Luna's behalf, but they're being rather unreasonable. Should I offer them an explanation or ignore them, ma'am?"

Prey could tell the Guard didn't really care. The ponies downstairs should've realised the Night Guard were just doing their duty and, '-be thankful they have somepony powerful like Princess Luna to watch over them-' 

"I'll deal with them before we leave and drag Oyster back with us." Humming replied

"W-What?!" 

Humming ignored Oyster's exclamation, "Just tell them that all their damages will be compensated for by the Night Guard, we'll send somepony by in the morning to write up a receipt. We've just going to break this fool here and then I'll be down to help." She finished.

"Yes ma'am." The thestral nodded and withdrew his head.

Humming and Gloom turned back to their thoroughly intimidated prisoner. Turning your back on a prisoner was a bad idea, but Oyster wasn't going anywhere with Crimson and Gloom covering him. "Now, let's cut the horse radish-"

From seemingly nowhere, Prey felt a train of malicious thought enter his perception range. It was dark and viscous.

"Watch o-!" Prey started to yell, already leaping away from the window.

A griffin, the griffin murderer, had appeared from beneath the window ledge. All any of them had time to see was the crossbow propped on the window sill, and the griffin squinting down its length.

Twang *Thuck!*

Oyster Pinion was knocked from his hooves as the bolt hit him full in the chest. Prey's leap finished carrying him behind a chair for cover as everyone else began to react.

"Night Guards to me!" Humming shouted.

"Stop him!" Gloom yelled. 

Crimson had already covered half the distance to the window as the griffin kicked off, doing a backwards loop to get clear and taking off into the night.

A horrible gurgle of pain and blood came from the downed pegasus, causing both Gloom and Humming to freeze. 

'-catch the griffin!-', '-but Oyster Pinion!-' 

What did they do? Go after the griffin or try and save their witness?

'Why didn't Humming leave even a single Guards outside to keep watch?' Prey thought.

The griffin must've been coming to receive Oyster's report. He'd seen the Night Guard capture the salt dealer's scout, and made the call to silence Oyster. The griffin had been able to fly right up to the window unopposed and take the shot.

Gloom's head whipped back and forth from Oyster Pinion to the window with its smashed in glass. He had a split second to make the choice. 

"Humming, Crimson, get after that griffin!" Gloom shouted, while he himself rushed to Oyster Pinion's side.

Crimson had reached the window, but was forced to delay a second. He had to line up his jump to carry him through while avoiding the shards of broken glass still in its frame. It felt like a second too long. The griffin was getting away!

"Hurry!"

Crimson leapt through the shattered window, wings snapping out as he cleared the frame. Corporal Humming didn't hesitate like Crimson did. She just ran straight up and jumped through, headless of the glass shards.

"Prey, help me!" Gloom shouted, trying to get Oyster Pinion to lie down flat as he began to convulse.

Prey looked away from the window which Humming and Crimson had exited. Whether they caught the griffin or not was completely out of his hooves now. 

"Prey help me!" Gloom repeated, panic edging his words.

'He's been shot, what do you expect me to do?' Prey thought even as he abandoned his cover behind the chair and rushed over.

Oyster did not look to be in a good way. Blood was bubbling out from around the shaft where it penetrated his chest. The pegasus kept jerking and making little pathetic gasps of pain as Gloom pinned his legs and wings down as best he could. "Don't just stand there Prey! Help me save him."

Prey blinked big blue eyes at Gloom, "Help? How? What do you think I can do?"

He was not going to touch the pegasus if he could help it, and he certainly wasn't going to get close enough for either Gloom or Oyster to touch him. 

Gloom gritted his teeth, "I don't know how, just, just...!" He couldn't find the words to finish. 

'-I don't know what to do. He's too badly hurt. Oh Luna, I don't know the first thing about arrow wounds-', Gloom realised in panic.

"I don't know. Find a cloth or something, anything to use as a bandage." He ordered, the rasp in his voice as strong as it ever had been.

Prey took a moment to stop and properly evaluate Oyster's condition and his chances of survival.

They weren't good.

The crossbow bolt had gone in deep, not even the arrow head's bindings were visible. 'Punctured left lung without question.' 

Either it'd had enough power to smash straight through the ribs, or just happened to slide in between. 'Or maybe heavy duty tip or armour piercing then?' Prey questioned. 

Actually, it didn't matter. The bolt had gone in so deep it'd likely poked a hole in the back of the lung too.

'Ninety five percent chance he dies.' Prey worked out within that moment. Maybe Prey could've saved Oyster if he had any equipment or tools. But they were in the middle of a messy apartment, and there was nothing to use.

Prey cast about and grabbed a towel discarded on the floor. He balled it up and tossed it to Gloom, "Here. Apply pressure on the wound."

"That's not going to work, there's an arrow in the way." Gloom snapped at him.

"Wrap it around the shaft then, and then apply pressure."

"That'll just push it in deeper!"

"Well there's no other alternative."

"I'll pull it out, just come here and hold him-"

"No! That'll kill him in under two minutes, tops. He'll bleed out and his lung will flood with blood. The only thing keeping him alive right now is that arrow acting as a plug. And what if the head's barbed?"

Gloom didn't know for sure if Prey was right, but he feared he was. He didn't have time to try something else, Oyster's blood was already staining his breastplate and hooves. 

'-no time to think, only do!-' 

Gloom bundled the towel around the shaft as best he could and pressed down.

Oyster let out a wet scream of pain, a horrible bubbling sound in the back of his throat as he weakly thrashed. 

"It's going to be okay. Stay still, help is on it's way. You're going to be okay!" Gloom tried to calm him. It was a lie. Prey knew Oyster wasn't going to make it. That bubbling he'd just heard meant Oyster's lung was filling up faster than he'd originally estimated.

Just then there the sound of galloping hooves came from up the corridor as the Night Guards Humming's call had alerted finally arrived. From the time of the griffin firing the bolt, to the time of the Night Guards arrival was only about thirty seconds. Time had seemed to stretch, but now it was snapping back into place in one alarming rush as the shouting began.

"Corporal Humm- Sargent Gloom, what happened?" The lead thestral shouted as he burst in. Five more followed him, crowding into the room, wings flared and teeth bared for a fight.

That all went out the shattered window when they saw Gloom struggling to try and keep Oyster Pinion still with an arrow in his chest. 

"Sir, what happened?", "Where's Corporal Humming?", "Who did this?!"

"Help me hold him down. One of you, try and find a first aid kit and tell the Night Guards downstairs what's going on." Gloom ordered, mind jumping about trying to solve five different problems at once.

"Yes sir!"

"And you two, get up into the sky. Humming and Crimson are chasing the p-griffin who did this. Go help them!"

"Yes sir!" 

Amidst the rush, Prey slipped back into the background. Now that the Sargent had plenty of other people to distract himself with, Gloom would no longer require him to try and help save the shot pegasus. Prey could only see glimpses of Oyster from between the assisting Night Guards, but it was enough. 

'He'll be gone in two minutes.'

Prey had originally estimated a ninety five percent chance of Oyster's death, but now he was one hundred percent certain. Oyster wasn't going to survive. It'd only been a slim chance anyway, but the body was a strange and fickle thing. Prey had seen people, pony and otherwise, miraculously survive worse, but also die from less.

"The bleeding won't stop!", "Stay with us, keep fighting.", "He can't breathe!"

'And there goes our best lead too. They took our bait, but it was all for nothing.' Prey thought.

If there weren't all these ponies around, he could break into Oyster's mind and learn what they needed to know. At least that way they would've gotten something out of his death. Not this pointless, bubbling hacking attempts to breathe that didn't benefit anyone.

Prey didn't want to listen to it. 

It was disgusting. It made him want to cover his ears, but he knew that wouldn't work. He'd heard it before. Too many times before. The wet bubbling of a dead pony trying to breathe. 

'It never gets any better.' Prey thought, staring fixedly at the square of night outside the smashed window.

'Wait.'

Prey realised the sound had actually stopped. Prey'd missed it for a second, but underneath all the noise from the Night Guards clustered around Oyster Pinion, the pegasus's tortured breathing had ceased. He was dead.

It took a full minute for the Night Guards to realise it though, and for a further minute that just increased their frenzied attempts to revive him. 

"He's not breathing!", "Clear his air way.", "Don't let up, keep going.", "Where's that first aid kit?"

Prey gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the sounds as he waited to see if Crimson and Humming returned successful in catching the griffin or not.

More Night Guards came up and were sent away, told to keep the rest of the buildings residents calm. Eventually though, they had to cease their efforts. Their suspect was dead, and there was no chance of reviving him. The moment one of them stepped away from the body they all did, like it was already putrid. Gloom had blood smeared across his hooves and chest plate. Other's had some splashed on them too, but Gloom was the worst.

"Sir, orders?" One of the Night Guards asked. Gloom didn't seem to hear him. He just kept blinking down at Oyster Pinion. 

'-what went wrong. Why didn't it work? I don't understand-'

"Sir, orders? Sir."

Gloom finally snapped out of it, "Secure the building, make sure nopony leaves. Send a flyer to Captain Nighthawk or one of the Lieutenants, which ever you can find. Tell them what's happened. The rest of you, just... stand guard or help the others downstairs."

"Yes sir." They hurried away, grateful to have a job to focus on that wasn't in here.

Watching them go, Prey felt Gloom's eyes settle on the back of his head, '-oh no. Again, all this all over again and Prey was here-'

"Prey...You okay?" Gloom asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I was not the one shot." Prey stopped rubbing his ear and let it fall. He looked back at Gloom, "Can we please not do this again? He's dead now. There's nothing more we could've done."

Death was death, and Oyster Pinion was already dead. Prey might not have understood why Gloom was so upset at him last time he'd been around a dead body, but he sure as hell didn't want it to happen a second time. He needed to distract Gloom before the thestral began to fixate again.

"Crimson and Corporal Humming might succeed in catching that griffin, or they might not. If they don't, the griffin is going to go to ground or get out of Canterlot tonight. He's also going to warn all the salt dealers he works for. Unless we manage to pull off something big tonight, this investigation is going to dead wall." Prey said, clearly laying out their position.

"Oyster Pinion's and those other four deaths would've been for nothing if that happens. We have to do something." Prey added that last bit to try and rally Gloom. He couldn't do this on his own, because Luna's orders wouldn't let him.

"Prey..." 

'-don't you care that some poor pony's just been murdered?-', Gloom didn't ask it though. Maybe he realised how inappropriate such a question would've sounded. Or perhaps he didn't want to know the answer.

If he had asked, Prey was prepared to say whatever Gloom wanted to hear.

Gloom seemed to suddenly realise he had Oyster's still cooling blood all over his hooves. He made a "Hurk!" Sound in the back of his throat and rushed to the bed, grabbing the sheet and frantically scrubbing the blood off. 

'-get it off, get it off!-'

Prey left him to it. He was trying to think of someway for them, the ISND, to solve this case tonight. He didn't look at Oyster Pinion either. Prey didn't need any reminder of what could await him from Luna if he failed, he was painfully aware of that fact.

'Examine the flat. It might turn up something.' Prey thought. He started to look around the messy room.

Gloom was breathing heavily as he finished feverishly cleaning the blood of his hooves, guilt running loudly through his thoughts at how disrespectful this was towards Oyster. But the Sargent didn't stop until all the blood was all gone. Prey caught him looking at the corpse and thinking, '-I'm sorry I failed you-'. 

Carefully, Gloom took the bed sheet and draped it over Oyster Pinion. The stained sheet stuck up horribly in the middle where the arrow jutted.

Gloom closed his own eyes and made a tiny bow towards the body, "May you find rest among the stars in Luna's mane." He mumbled. Internally, Prey saw that Gloom had never believed those words less. 

'-words will no longer help. Another murder has happened. I was right here and I still failed again-'

"Prey, what are you doing?"

"I'm searching the room. Even if we can't ask Oyster questions anymore, there might be some evidence in here somewhere." Prey answered, not looking up from his search.

Gloom wanted to order Prey to; '-stop it! A pony's just died for Luna's sake-' But Prey was just being practical. It might be immoral, but Gloom couldn't think of any way to verbalise exactly why. 

'-but how can Prey just-?! No, he's just suppressing it-', Gloom put a hoof to his gut, '-and I can't fault him for that. I wish I could suppress it all as well as he is. I feel sick-'

Prey listened with growing frustration to Gloom's thoughts as he continued to pick over the room. He couldn't find anything useful in here, and Gloom fixating while they waited for Crimson and Humming's return wasn't helping anybody.

'How about instead of standing about feeling sorry for yourself, you come and actually help me look?' Prey thought. He didn't suggest however. He didn't need Gloom getting in his way. They'd just witnessed a violent death. In Gloom's current distressed state, the thestral wasn't thinking clearly enough to help anyone. 

He was keenly aware of Oyster Pinon's corpse throughout his search however. The body oozed a horrible presence into the room, sheet or no sheet. The knowledge that it was there was enough. A nasty reminder of how easily it could have been one of them the griffin shot at instead.

Prey pulled open the cupboard under the sink, perhaps Oyster had hidden salt there? No. Just dust and a basket holding a very old cabbage. Lower in the building, the sounds of alarm and thestrals trying to control upset ponies continued. Prey closed the cupboard door and moved on. Perhaps there was something hidden behind the Wonderbolt poster of some fiery orange mare-? No, nothing.

Approaching hooves clattering up the hallway. Gloom went to the door, and looked out. 

"Crimson," He rasped, "You're back. Did you catch...?"

"No sir. I'm sorry sir." Crimson's voice came in from out in the corridor. "Did Oyster Pinion, I mean, is he-?"

"No. He didn't make it." Gloom said, not making any futile attempts to soften the news.

"Oh..."

"Come inside. We've... I've put the sheet...never mind, just come in and tell us what happened." Gloom said, stepping aside.

Crimson plodded in. His hollow countenance matched that of Gloom's. All the previous motivation and intrepidness from laughing together was gone. Even if the two of them both kept their heads up and ears straight, their slumped wings showed the real picture.

Prey unbent from looking under the bed, "What happened to the griffin?" He asked.

Crimson jerked his gaze away from the sheet with it's arrow tent pole in the middle. Prey noticed how he was trying to mainly breathe through his mouth. Same as in the cellar. "Me and Humming flew after him. We were gaining. Unfortunately we didn't see that he had somehow reloaded his crossbow."

"What happened to Corporal Humming?" Gloom demanded in alarm, finally drawing the connection between the missing Night Guard officer and what it might mean.

"The griffin waited until we were almost on top of him sir. I flew out of his line of fire, but Corporal Humming wasn't quick enough. He fired then tossed the crossbow away."

"Humming. Is Humming still alive?" Gloom insisted.

Crimson blinked, "What? Oh right, of course, yes. Corporal Humming is alive sir. I am almost certain she will live too." A muscle was twitching in Crimson's jaw, "It was so close. It almost missed. If it had, we wouldn't have had to land and I would've caught him."

"Humming, how badly was she hurt? Where was she hit?" Gloom asked in worry.

"She was hit in the wing sir." Crimson answered.

"Wing? Wouldn't it just go straight through the membrane?" Prey asked. A small hole there would hardly even bleed. Surely that wouldn't have been enough to stop a thestral?

"No, in the wing." Crimson unfolded his own and pointed at the leading wing arm, "It went right through here, near the shoulder."

Gloom flinched, wondering if, '-will she lose the wing?-' 

That was a significant injury, the bolt likely broke the wing bone too as it went through widthways.

'And a very almost near miss.' Prey thought. The griffin had been incredibly lucky, or Humming incredibly unlucky to be hit in the wing arm mid flap. 

It certainly hadn't been an intentional clipping shot. The griffin had no compunctions against killing as he'd already proved, and would've certainly gone for a kill shot. However, hitting a moving target while flying was a very different thing from shooting a stationary Oyster Pinion from  five yards, and the griffin had almost missed Humming all together.

"I had to break off the pursuit to save Corporal Humming from crashing. She could no longer fly." Crimson said. The look in his yellow eyes said he knew he'd made the right choice in saving Humming instead of pursuing, but  worried he somehow might not have.

'You should've let her fall.' Prey thought. There was no guarantee Crimson could've overpowered the griffin even if he had caught up, but Prey didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was whether Luna was going to be displeased. There had been no room for sentiment or attachment in the Resistance. Weakness got you killed.

"Did you see which direction the griffin flew off in at least?" Gloom tried.

"No sir. I mean, yes I did, but I don't know if he kept flying in that direction. By the time those Night Guards you sent after us caught up, he was already gone. They helped me carry the Corporal back here. Somepony is taking her to the hospital right now." Crimson said.

It hadn't been agreed upon in any way, but the three of them had unconsciously moved to stand on the far side of the room. There was no need to mention what was on the other side. '-skittering ratsNo! There are no rats here, get it together Dusky-'

"We have to work something out tonight or it'll be too late, sir." Prey hastily reminded Gloom, trying to stop him and Crimson regressing and slipping back into the same rut.

"What do you mean?" Crimson asked.

"The griffin is going to tell the salt dealer's boss how they've been compromised. Whomever he really was, Oyster Pinion must've known something seriously risky for the griffin to go ahead and make the call on their behalf to kill Oyster. They're going to go to ground and we'll lose any chance of following this trail." Prey explained, repeating his words from earlier.

"We need to wait for the Lieutenant or the Captain to get here first. I've sent a messenger to the Palace already." Gloom said. His tone held no confidence that either officer would be able to do anything he hadn't already. 

But what else could Gloom do? They were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and everyone knew it.

Their gambit had failed, their suspect was dead, the griffin had gotten away, and before the night was out, the salt dealers would all have been warned.

"Have we lost sir?" Crimson asked after a minute. Prey stopped.

'-is Crimson right? Is this it? Have we lost?-'

"No..." Gloom squared his shoulders, "No." He announced more loudly.

"No it's not over. They're not getting away with this. Do they think they can just murder ponies? That we'll be too scared to stop them? No, no this is where we stop them. We stop them tonight!" 

That fire was back in Gloom, the confidence which had been missing since the cellar. 

It was the confidence that here was a wrong that needed to righted.

"Sentiment and righteous intentions are all well and good, but we're still stuck." Prey said. It was good Gloom had gotten himself back together, because Crimson would follow his example, but they had to be realistic.

"It will be enough." Gloom said.

"That's unrealistic, we should-"

"It'll have to be enough." Gloom emphasised. 

Prey let his eyes slide away and shrugged, "Alright. But as I said, after tonight, it's most likely going to be too late."

"Then we're wasting time. Let's stick to finding the answers to the questions we don't know. So how are we going to do this?" Gloom asked.

That was the question, wasn't it? They had to finish this tonight, but how?

How? How?

'-how?-'

Gloom thought and thought. Crimson's mental walls were churning, showing he was thinking just as deeply. Both were scouring their brains, desperate to find the answer to the question.

How?

Prey turned his attention from them and looked around the small room again. The smell of blood was slowly starting to thicken in the air. Idly, the thought passed through his head of what the average pony would've done if they walked in right now. 

'Inconsequential.' He need to focus all his attention on the now, not random trivia.

"Give me two minutes, I need to think." Prey said, sitting himself down and closing his eyes.


---


'How to proceed? Where is the link? How can I find what I need to know?'

Prey had his eyes squeezed shut, and his hooves firmly pressing his ears down to block out any distracting noise. Thestrals were rushing coming in and out of the room, making reports to Gloom, offering suggestions, attempting to help, trying not to let the pressure show. 

Prey sat in the corner, out of the way and ignored.

He would still notice if anyone tried to approach him, but right now, almost all his attention was focused inwards on solving the issue.

'The griffin, where would he retreat to at this time of night?' 

Prey didn't know. He didn't have enough information. 

'Move on. Oyster Pinion, his body wasn't well built enough for a weather team. Living conditions are below the Canterlot average. Unemployed, lazy, or just wasteful? Was lack of money the reason he worked for the salt dealers?'

Prey was possibility crunching, going over everything he knew and trying to slot it into a scenario that would benefit him.

If he were in Prey's place, Gloom would probably try to organise aerial sweeps in the hopes of his cutie mark hinting at something.

Crimson would probably do it himself, relying on his superior sense of smell and warrior training.

Prey was neither of them. He didn't believe in hope, nor did he have either of their skills or strengths. He wasn't strong, or fast, or well trained, or blessed by Harmony with a special talent. 

Prey only had two things, his mind and his runes. Runes would not help find him find the drug dealers, even if he wasn't keeping his runes a secret. Which only left his mind. Prey wished he had some way of secretly contacting Lemon Pink. Her magic would be of invaluable assistance, even if she only worked from behind the scenes, but there was no time.

'Oyster Pinon knew that griffin. The griffin came to receive his report. Oyster would not give illegal information to someone he did not know. Yet the griffin came with a crossbow. Indicative of the outcome or merely caution on the griffin's part?'

No, that information wasn't going to help either. Prey discarded it and started again.

'The salt dealers have made efforts to tighten up their operation. Eliminating loose tongues. This is all about money, yet they've closed down the Warehouse 7B operation. But they still need an income. Money. How are they getting it? Where did they move their import route to? What other operations do they still have going on?'

Prey was tired. Gloom and Crimson were also tired. The whole Night Guard was tired. But the ISND was especially tired. 

Sleep had been an increasingly fleeting state of being this last week, and now it was catching up with a vengeance. All of them were trying to think with a head full of noise and eyes full of sand.

Having just witnessed a murder hadn't helped either. In the explosive moments after the killing had occurred, somehow all that exhaustion had grown ten times worse.

'Focus. Focus.' Prey repeated, pressing his ears more firmly shut as an argument broke out over something one of the thestrals had just reported, 'Focus on the here and now.'

'Other avenues of income. Where are they operating out of? A store house and a head quarters of some kind are required. Doesn't have to be large. The person in charge is likely now rich. Won't live in Lower Canterlot. But they're careful and don't want to draw attention, so not Upper Canterlot either. Middle class then. With such a low profile, chances of finding them are tiny. Useless. Move on.'

Prey quickly double checked the room for a second before slipping back into his state of concentration. Someone, a Night Guard of course, was examining Oyster Pinion's corpse. They dropped the sheet back into place after barely a second, looking green.

Prey had a memory which was poking at him.

It was from the day just before the Resistance lost the war. The Resistance kept fighting of course, they didn't know how to stop after shedding so much blood. But it was the day Captain Fire Strike broke their backs for sure.


---<O>---


The Resistance had been on the back hoof, loosing ground and fighters almost daily. 

In an attempt to scavenge a chance to breathe, the Resistance's leaders had split them all into two main camps, carefully hidden away deep within the trees. But the Border Guard had kept closing in, combing through the forest and getting nearer every day. They knew the camps were close, and it was only a matter of time before they found one. But the Resistance had been in no state to flee again. They just needed some more time, another day or two to recover, and then they'd be able to make it.

So the leaders of Prey's camp secretly settled upon a gambit. If it worked, it would buy them a clean get away at very little cost.

It hadn't worked. Prey had unknowingly messed it all up, the part he was supposed to play on the board going unfulfilled. He'd been such a small piece, but a key pivot point. He hadn't known. He'd only done his best. He gave it his all and didn't let Fire Strike break him.

And then he'd gotten back to ashes and the survivors called him a traitor. Said that he'd betrayed them. 

"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good!"

He'd called them the traitors in return. They'd betrayed him, not the other way around. 

"You've taken everything from me, and now you wanted this too? Never!"


---<O>---


The Resistance had desperately tried to hide their intentions with misdirection, attempting to sacrifice the hoof to save the leg. This memory poked away at Prey. 

If his subconscious kept bringing it up, then it must mean something, so Prey focused his attention on it.

'A key. This is a key. Now to build the door it fits.'

Prey took a deep, deep breath, feeling it fill his small lungs to what felt like bursting point, then he exhaled, letting it take all unnecessary thoughts with it. 

'Alright, here we go.'

Prey broke his mind into two different patterns of thought, each capable of independent logic. It wasn't an action that Prey could have explained, or an experience he could've described. Words alone would've done a poor job. It was a state of being.

It was not splitting his mind in half like he'd done in his duel against Lemon Pink, back when she was still Night Watcher. This was completely different. Back then, he'd almost sundered himself into two separate minds, only threads left to hold both halves together. It was like dancing on a knife edge whetted with tangle viper venom.

There was no way Prey was going to do something as dangerous as that again unless he had no choice.

This was more just separating into two separate directions. All roads go in two completely different directions, but there is still only ever one road.

Half of Prey's mind pulled up everything he knew, or thought he knew, about the salt trade and the murders. Warehouse 7B, the griffin, Oyster Pinion, Luxury Linen, all of it.

The other half started conjuring up possible frames into which those puzzle pieces could fit. Scenarios, outcomes, reasons.

Then he began jamming the two halves back together.

Prey wasn't trying to find an answer that would fit perfectly into place in the puzzle frame, because there were far too many uncertainties and variables for that. So instead, Prey was forcing scenarios together whether they fit or not, and seeing what came out the other end. 

It was like building a mental, three dimensional puzzle with pieces you weren't even sure were for this same puzzle.

It was by no means an accurate process. None of the outcomes were exact. It was all based of hunches and theories that only existed as 'if's' and 'maybe's' in Prey's head.

'Which one? Which one will fit well enough for me to use it as a stepping stone? Let's see. How many employees will this salt dealer have?' Prey asked on the one side. 

The other side came up with its answer as the first still continued to provide facts, 'Employees probably split into four classes. On the bottom rung, I'll call them the street dealers. Next rung up, suppliers, who have a number of street dealers under each of them. Then the big salt dealers. Let's call them salt lords. Each responsible for a section of Canterlot. Then at the very top, the boss. The only people this boss ever interacts with will be the salt lords. Only they can identify the big boss.' Prey rationalised, adding it into his calculations.

'This means it's a relatively small operation.' A quick estimate gave Prey the number of individuals he could expect. 'One boss. Four or five salt lords. Sixteen to twenty suppliers, and street dealers anywhere up to sixty. Total of roughly eighty-five people spread throughout Lower Canterlot. As they are caught by the Guard or judged untrustworthy, they are replaced. But only recently has this boss come to town and started having the failures killed.'

A few pieces 'clicked', and became a new shape. With this new, bigger puzzle piece, Prey started through running all the scenario's he could think of again.

'Salt lords are now too scared to run away with a griffin assassin under their boss's control.' The other side of Prey's mind made a connection and something else also 'clicked'.

'There is no pony leader,' Prey realised, 'The griffin himself is the boss.'

It was a startling leap of logic, with little proof on either side to link up with the other. But once the connection was made, Prey was ninety percent certain it was accurate. He just somehow knew.

The Night Guards in the room were now grimly arguing, or having an intense discussion at least, about if they should be performing any further last rites and if so, what?

'So this griffin is the brains behind this salt trade.' Prey thought. It was a surprise. The griffin must have been running his salt trade from outside of Canterlot for years. Yet now he'd ventured into the capital city himself and started to get his claws dirty.

'Likely one of his pony salt lords was getting too big for their horseshoes. So the griffin came here to make an example of them and remind the rest who's boss.'

Griffins did things differently to ponies. Their approach to problems was fundamentally different. Most ponies probably interacted only a few times in their whole life with a griffin, and so knew next to nothing about their culture. But Prey knew griffins from the Resistance. They'd always been the Resistance's most vicious front line fighters and raiders. Although perhaps those blood crazed individuals were a poor representation of their entire race. 

Nevertheless, Prey could understand those griffins. First and foremost, they were proud predators. Coming from the cold and often barren lands of Griffiona, they had to be. The Blood Feather Plague which had swept the Low Kingdom over half a century ago was still dealing damage to this day. Was it any wonder they grew up tough?

In a way, Prey understood griffins better than he understood ponies.

The point being, Prey could quite easily see how this griffin ran his salt trade. It was simple. He ruled by fear.

'In this instance, a very effective method indeed.' Prey thought.

Ponies were easy to panic and prone to giving in to fear. They had the instincts of herd animals. Anything that looked dangerous was to be immediately distrusted and shunned. Just take their reaction to the recently returned thestrals for example. That was something this griffin obviously knew and was taking full advantage of. 

'But where to find him? If I were him, and had set up this salt trade, where would I go?' 

Actually, Prey wouldn't have been caught so it was a baseless question, but that was beside the point.

'Where would I go? Warehouses? Train station? Lower Canterlot? Outside of Canterlot altogether? Crates? Factories? More abandoned buildings? Cloud homes? Basements or shops? Re-purposed civilian homes? Where? Where? Where?' Prey ransacked his brain, in his mindscape hanging all of the maps of Canterlot he'd seen.

'Where would a murderer like me go?' 

"I've got it!" Prey cried at the same time as Gloom did; "He flew to the Lumber Yard!"

Prey stalled, half risen. How on Equus had Gloom managed to work that out too? 

'Did his special talent just present the destination to him on a silver platter?' Prey thought in disbelief. Nevermind, it didn't matter how Gloom had worked it out, he could ask later. Right now they had to get things moving, something Gloom was keenly aware of.

"Quickly, who's next in seniority after Corporal Humming?" Gloom demanded of the present Night Guards.

"It's Corporal Echo."

"Where is he?"

"He's downstairs keeping an eye on the residents sir." Came the swift reply.

"One of you go and replace him and send him up. We don't have much time." Gloom ordered. The thestral saluted and galloped off.

Gloom cast about, finding Prey had come back over, "Prey, where are you-? Here, good. Do you know where the Lumber Yard is? Yes? Good. How long will it take to get there?" He asked, firmly fixing his eyes on Prey when he spoke, rigidly not letting them drift to the corner.

Prey only needed to think for a second, "On hoof at a fast canter, twenty two minutes. By air, roughly ten minutes."

"Only ten? Good, it's closer than I thought." Gloom quickly pointed to a Night Guard, "Do you know the way?"

"No sir."

Gloom gestured to Prey, "Give this pony the directions. He can go tell everypony else too. Lieutenant Screech or Starry Wing should be here soon. Then we can all get moving."

Prey speedily began to rattle off the directions to the Night Guard as he mentally picked out the shortest route land marks for a flyer to follow.

"Good, that's..." Gloom's mouth paused mid order, frowning.

'-hang on, that doesn't seem right...-'

"Those aren't the directions to the lumber yard, Prey." Gloom said in confusion.

"Yes they are. What are you talking about?" Prey responded, also confused.

"Why're you sending him on a route across to the other side of Canterlot? Never mind, we don't have time. I'll find some other pony who knows the route if you don't." Gloom said, already turning away to find another Night Guard.

"No, what are you talking about? Those are the directions the the Lumber Yard. There's no way I made a mistake. Wait..." Prey thought of something, "We are both talking about the Oak Quarter Lumber Yard, yes?"

"Ye-No. The other one. The one in the Gold Light District." Gloom said. 

"And why..." Prey said slowly, "Do you want to send him to the Merry Lumber Yard? The griffin flew away to the Oak Quarter Lumber Yard, not that one."

They really didn't have time to be discussing this. The Night Guards needed orders, and Gloom was the only officer available to give those orders. But despite all the mounting pressure, Gloom still came to a stop and forced himself to properly absorb Prey's words.

'-different lumber yard? How can Prey know? Doesn't matter, he wouldn't say unless he was sure. Does that mean split up? By the moon, why us?-'

"Sir?" The Night Guard who had been about to be sent to the of the wrong lumber yard prompted, poised to fly and wanting to know where he should be going.

"Don't go anywhere. Wait." Gloom ordered, perhaps more sharply than was necessary. His eyes locked onto Prey. Prey saw anger frustration warring with indecision. 

"Prey, how do you know that? Quickly."

"Just now, when I was thinking, I worked it out. The griffin retreated to the lumber yard. That's where he's shifted his salt import route too. Why do you think it was the other lumber yard?" Prey asked back.

'-we're pressed for time. But this is something that I can't afford to get wrong right here-'. 

Gloom pointed at the sheet covered body, "Oyster has...had, a paper stub on the table. It was from a hay and chips shop in the Gold Light district from just this evening."

Crimson stepped over, and showed the sloppily written out receipt to Prey. 

"It was stuck to the bottom of the coffee mug." Gloom explained as Prey quickly looked it over.

Crimson gave a nod, "I also asked the ponies downstairs. About what they knew about Oyster Pinion, I mean. A mare said Oyster said he was going to be busy flying to the industrial yard earlier this evening."

"And the only place that fits the description of an industrial yard near the Gold Light district is the Merry Lumber Yard." Gloom finished.

"Why would've Oyster told this mare where he was going?" Prey asked automatically. It wasn't likely to have been a lie, but he asked anyway.

"Apparently Oyster promised her a lunch out, but said he couldn't take her today when she asked." Crimson blinked and glanced furtively towards the same thing in the room that everyone kept glancing at, "She doesn't know. About Oyster Pinion. None of the ponies downstairs do. The residents, I mean."

Guilt didn't sound in Crimson's voice, but it was definitely there in the way his eyes lingered on the sheet.

The mare downstairs would never see her potential colt friend again. Unless she attended his funeral. That was a poor substitute for closure. 

'But life isn't fair. It's time she learnt that lesson, whomever she is. Not that it's relevant to me.' 

Prey was getting distracted again. It was all these Night Guards crowding around him, and he didn't like it. He backed up a step or two as everyone stared at him, waiting.

"You think the griffin went to ground in the Oak Quarter Lumber Yard instead. Why?" Gloom asked, not wasting words.

That was a hard question for Prey to provide an answer for. He knew, because he'd worked it out. However, his reasoning would not satisfy Gloom, because he couldn't explain it. But that did not mean he couldn't come up with a good excuse on the spot.

"The Oak Lumber Yard aligns on the map, plus, it fits all the requirements for what the salt dealers would need. The other lumber yard is on the wrong side of Canterlot, in too high class of an area. The salt dealers couldn't safely pick there. In addition, it's in the opposite direction to the one the griffin flew." Prey answered.

"Why does that make it more, not less, likely?" Gloom asked. The other Night Guards weren't following Prey's logic on that last point either.

"Think about it. These drug dealers have so far been very cautious and careful. Surely he wouldn't fly straight back to his hideout without first making sure he couldn't be followed? I'm certain that once he got out of Crimson's sight, he changed direction." Prey explained. 

He could see they all bought his reasoning, even if they weren't sure it was correct. However, they also knew that certainties were an impossibility in any active situation.

The acid butterflies were starting up in Prey's stomach again. The twisted stirrings of the hunt beginning. He didn't like it. He hated having to rush things. But as always, there was no choice in the matter.

The Night Guards in the room were busy sharing silent glances of communication. It was faster than speaking, which was apparently unnecessary to convey their indecision about which lumber yard they each thought was correct. Prey's logic, or Gloom's logic, which was right?

'-it's up to the Sargent to decide-'

Gloom dragged his wing claw roughly through his mane, trying to decide what to do. He'd removed his helmet. Against regulations, but no one present was going to report him. The importance of the decision weighed heavily on him.

'-we only have one shot at this. Which lumber yard is it? What path should I choose?-'

Prey knew that he was correct, and that Gloom was wrong. But Gloom didn't know that. If Gloom chose wrong and the griffin got away, Luna would blame Prey, he just knew she would. The last thing Prey wanted to do right now was run off to confront a murderous griffin. He was exhausted and there was a dead pony on the floor. But Luna would not accept that as a valid excuse.

'Life is so unfair,' Prey thought pointlessly, 'Okay, I need another lie to convince them to go to the right yard.'

Prey opened his mouth.

"I've made the decision." Gloom said, dragging his helmet back on. 

Prey closed his mouth and joined with everyone else in staring unblinkingly at Gloom.

"The murderer could be at either lumber yard, because there's evidence for both. I still think the Merry Lumber Yard is more likely, but we just don't know. So we're going to split up."

"Sir, I'm certain it's the Oak Quarter Lumber Yard. Splitting our forces is a bad idea, we'll need all the help-"

"Be quiet Prey. I am the Sargent and these are my orders. Follow them." Gloom interrupted, steel in his voice.

Prey took into account all of the thestral Night Guards present, and reluctantly closed his mouth again.

Gloom only waited long enough to be sure that Prey wasn't going to interrupt further, before hurrying on; "The Lieutenants or the Captain are on their way here right now. I'm leaving only four Night Guards here to keep the civilians downstairs contained. When reinforcements arrive, tell them to leave some Night Guards here to help, and split the rest into three groups. Please advise them to send one group after each of our two teams."

He paused to take a quick breath, "The third group will head towards Cloudsdale. That's the only other clear destination the griffin might've flown to."

Gloom pointed at Echo, "You will lead one team, I the other. You'll be taking the larger team to the Merry Lumber Yard, since it's further away. I'll be going on hoof with the smaller team to the closer lumber yard. It'll be easier for the Lieutenant to reach us with reinforcements if we need them, which is why we're going as the smaller team."

Gloom spoke of reinforcements, but what was left unsaid was there were very few reinforcements that could be sent. The Night Guard was tiny compared to the Royal Guard, and they were already stretched so thin that there'd barely been enough thestrals available for tonight's operation. What few extra Night Guards could be spared wouldn't be of much assistance.

That didn't stop Echo from saluting in acknowledgement, "Yes sir."

"Good. Go downstairs and tell everypony else what we're doing. Select four Night Guards to stay behind and make sure they know what to tell whichever officer turns up. And, and also about Oyster Pinion." Gloom had to clear his throat. "You other three;" 

He nodded at the left over thestrals in the room, "You and us, the ISND I mean, we'll be the second team. We're going to the Oak Lumber Yard. Understood?"

"Yes sir." They all confirmed.

"Then we need to leave right away. Come on."

Gloom sent Prey a look which might've been apologetic, but the Sargent wasn't going to change his mind, '-my responsibility to cover as many bases as possible. Even if your hunch is correct, I can't gamble everything on it Prey-' 

"Let's go!"

No time. The sand grains had run out. Prey gritted his teeth as he was forced to hurry after all of them, 'There's never any time to make a proper plan, only react.'

Prey didn't glance back at where Oyster Pinion lay covered, but every single thestral did as they reached the splintered door to leave.

'-feels blasphemous-', '-to just leave him like this-', '-with no door to even lock behind us-', '-may Luna guide your soul to rest-' 

Crimson was the last one through the door after Prey. He glanced back the longest, and Prey heard him mutter, "On my father's blades, I will see your murder does not go unanswered."

'Maybe you'll get your suicidal wish before the night is out.' Prey thought. They were running towards lethal danger.

Perhaps he should fall behind on purpose? That way he wouldn't have to get involved with whatever they found waiting for them at the lumber yard. 

Except Gloom would probably try to carry him for real if he fell behind tonight. Then Prey knew he would panic, and mind break Gloom, like he'd almost done with that imbecile Topaz Honey. And then Luna would definitely kill him.

"Hurry!"

Prey grimaced and sped up, jumping down the stairs two at a time as the Night Guards made for the exit.

The horrible butterflies in his stomach felt like they were breeding and multiplying. Oh how he hated yet loved this feeling. 

The hunt had begun in earnest now. This night would not end quietly.


​---I---