//------------------------------//
// 54.4 Take a Breath and Breathe 
// Story: Prey and a Lamb 
// by Lambs Prey 
//------------------------------//

There was a knock at the hospital room door. Prey looked up from the newspaper he had spread open on the sheets. His eyesight wasn't so badly damaged that he couldn't read, although he did have to concentrate harder to see the words on the frankly oversized pages. With that said, this newspaper was also utter drivel, but they were easy to get a hold of, and Crimson had kindly grabbed all the morning ones for him when he came by. 

Prey considered the papers worth exactly what he'd paid for them. Nothing. But he was utterly bored so read them regardless.

"Who is it?" Prey called. 

It wasn't time for the doctor or nurse to be doing their rounds, and Crimson had just left. Perhaps it was Lemon Pink, coming by to inform him she'd successfully returned from crossing the Ridgeback? 

No such luck.

"It's me. Uh, Scenic," Came the muffled voice through the door, "Can we come in?"

"Who is 'we'?" Prey asked cautiously. Last he'd checked, Scenic was still confined to his hospital bed.

"Uh, well me and Carton Juice. You haven't met her yet. Is, is it okay if we come in?" Came Scenic's hesitant voice.

Carton Juice. Prey's mind immediately did a search and pulled out the relevant information. Carton Juice was supposed to be the name of Scenic's marefriend.

'What's she doing visiting Scenic, weren't they trying to ban all visitors? And for what possible reason could he think I'd want to meet her?' Prey scowled.

He almost told Scenic to get lost. Almost. However after Screech's visit, it would be expected of him to at least make an attempt. So instead, he quickly rolled up the large newspaper, or large for him at any rate, and shoved it behind his pillow.

"Alright, you can come in."

It took a few seconds longer than necessary before the door actually opened, but when it did Prey saw why. 

Scenic was in a wheelchair, courtesy of his two stiff plaster legs, although the casts were only the start of his bandages, bruising, and stitching. Seeing Prey sitting up in bed and waiting, Scenic hurriedly dropped his gaze, like he was ashamed. Or perhaps scared.

Behind Scenic, and pushing the wheelchair, was a hulking, massive, orange dappled Earth pony stallion, with hooves the size of dinner plates-It was a mare. Holy Hell, it was a mare. 

'That's Carton Juice?'

The mare was huge, bigger than most stallions Prey had ever seen, Earth pony or not. She had muscles on her muscles by the look of it.

She had three interlocking amber hexagons for a cutie mark, wore a huge turtleneck sweater and a friendly smile on what, based on the fact it was on the front of her head, was her face. Prey assessed the threat she posed but decided it was no worse than the average Earth pony. An average Earth pony could crush Prey's skull with one kick, so Carton's extra hulking size meant little.

"Well don't just stand there. Do come in."

Carton Juice didn't notice her coltfriend's hesitancy and smiled widely at Prey as she pushed the wheelchair in, sympathy practically radiating from off her.

'-oh what a poor lamb, just like Scenic told me. At least he didn't get as badly hurt as my Paint Spot-'

A few of Prey's bandages had been removed, and some of his smaller bruises and cuts had faded, but Prey knew his face still looked a lot worse than it really was. Although it would've looked even worse without said bandages. Prey put the bare minimum effort necessary to return a 'tired-but-still-friendly' smile to the huge mare, but his attention was mainly on Scenic.

The wheelchair bound stallion didn't want to be here. In fact; '-only here because Carton dear insisted I see my squad mates. But Celestia, after all I did, after all he did, I don't want to see Prey. And I'm sure as hay he doesn't want to see me-'

"Hey there big guy," Carton Juice gently said as she pushed Scenic up to the foot of Prey's bed, "How're you doing?"

'None of your damned business, shove off.' Prey thought, "I'm in the hospital. How do you think I'm doing?" He deadpanned.

Carton's gentle smile didn't fade, taking it for genuine humour, "Paint Spot told me you saved his life. I wanted to say thank you for getting my big lug back home safely."

"Actually that was Crimson." Prey said. He hadn't done anything to save Scenic. In fact, Prey distinctly remembered leaving Scenic behind fully expecting the Earth pony to die.

"No, you did save me Prey," Scenic unexpectedly spoke up, "Uh, I mean, Crimson saved me too yeah, but you all helped save me at one point or another."

"So you came here to say thank you, yes?" Prey asked. If that was all, then hopefully they'd leave once Scenic had said his piece.

"Of course! How could we not?" Carton Juice responded, "Gratitude should never go unspoken. So thank you Prey, thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. This is the first time they've allowed me in to see my darling. If I'd known about you, I would've brought you a thank you cake with honey from my own bees."

Prey barely looked at her. Her thanks meant nothing, she hadn't been there. Scenic however had yet to say thank you himself. Did he feel thankful? Was he now scared of Prey? Both?

Carton Juice was still talking, expressing her heartfelt gratitude and pity for his situation; ("I know! I'll give your parents the honey cake and they can save it for you.") Prey tuned her out. His attention was on Scenic.

'-what do I say? What can I say? Prey's a killer now. He's killed ponies where I could not and that's why we're still alive. How can I possibly say thank you for that? How can I possibly not say thank you?-'

The soft blue of Prey's eyes did not change, but there was something different hidden behind his mask when he turned and smiled sweetly at Carton Juice. "Thank you for saying all of that. You're too kind."

"No, thank you. Really."

Prey kept the smile up, "You're welcome. But I think Scenic has something he wants to say to me in private. Could you please give us a few minutes?"

Carton's ears went up in faint surprise at the unexpected 'grownupness' of Prey's request. She was standing behind the wheelchair, so she didn't see the way her coltfriend swallowed either, "Oh? What do two you want to talk about?"

"About something that happened. I just want to ask Paint Spot something. In private, please."

"Oh, right, private, duh! That was silly of me to ask." Carton laughed lightly. It was a good laugh, cheery and positive, and big enough to match her size. Prey was amazed that it didn't shake plaster flakes off the ceiling. She leaned way down and gave Scenic a quick peck on the tip of his ear, about the only unhurt bit of his face.

"Back in a few sweetie." She said, and left before Scenic could call out to her what he was really thinking; '-don't leave me alone in here!-'

Carton shut the door. Prey turned his friendly smile on Scenic. The Earth pony was looking anywhere but at the lamb. His breathing had become slightly elevated. He looked scared, although Prey hadn't done a single threatening thing yet. Although what could possibly be threatening about a runt lamb all bandaged up and stuck in a hospital bed?

Presently Prey asked, "I think there's something you want to tell me, don't you?"

Scenic's ears went back and he shivered, "Uh, *ehem* Is there?"

"I don't know," Prey's sweet smile widened, "But from the way you came in here, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were terrified of something."

Scenic tried to shift backwards, but he was trapped in the wheelchair, "Prey this isn't-"

"I think there's something you want to tell me." Prey repeated.

"W-what-" Scenic coughed, clearing his throat and gathering his courage, "What might that be?"

Prey's smile vanished, "Saying thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Yes, saying thank you. To me, to Crimson, and even to Gloom. And do you know why?"

"I-"

"Because without us you would be dead." Prey spat the guttural word out, "I can see what you're thinking, it's as clear on your face as those bandages. You're thinking that I can't be trusted, that I'm some kind of monster because I was willing to kill in self defence when you weren't."

"No no, I'm not." Scenic protested weakly, '-horseapples! How did he know?-'

"Is this the thanks you have to offer? For being willing to walk into the swamp, so you could stand on my back and stay clean? The Wolfing Woods, the kindersnatches, the reaper king, who saved you? Who defended you?"

Scenic found some courage from somewhere, "Those acid mine things weren't self defence, you made them purposefully to kill ponies!"

"Everyone agreed on our course of action, 'whatever it takes', remember? You agreed just like the rest of us. But! I can be a better person than the likes of you." Prey's voice dropped, forcing Scenic to hold his breath to hear, "I'm not an ungrateful selfish hypocrite. I won't use someone else as my excuse. Can you say the same?"

Scenic flinched as each of Prey's accusatory words hit home. The names hurt, because they were all things Scenic had already been calling himself inside. Ungrateful, betrayer, selfish. And yet at the same time, Scenic's morals were also crying out in protest that this was wrong. 

'-ponies don't kill. I'm a Guard, I signed up to save lives, not end them. Wrong is still wrong-'

"So that's it, huh? I'm weak because I'm not a murderer like you?!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Scenic slapped his unbroken foreleg over it in instant regret, "I, I'm sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean that."

But Prey had heard it all before. Coming from Scenic, the Earth pony's ungrateful words were barely even offensive anymore, but Scenic still expected them to. So Prey let his muzzle wrinkle up into a half snarl as pretended to be angry instead of merely just annoyed: 

"No no, do go on Scenic, tell me what you really think. Perhaps we should get Carton Juice back in here so she can hear how thankful you are to me for saving your life?"

"I'm sorry Prey, you're right, I shouldn't have said... have said......"

"Go on. Shouldn't have said what?"

Scenic took a deep breath and shut his eyes, "I'mSorryICalledYouAMurderer!"

Prey made a show of lifting a small hoof to rub his chin, "Saying sorry for calling me a murderer, but you don't take it back do you? Because you still mean it. You still think I'm a murderer."

There was a pause, before shame made Scenic square his shoulders and face Prey head on rather than hide his face, "Yes Prey. I do think that. And I shouldn't, I'm sorry, it's just that-"

"-Just that murder is still murder. Killing is still killing. Well you're right." Prey said unexpectedly.

Scenic's ears jerked straight up in surprise.

Prey airily gestured with a hoof, "Everyone wants to be a warrior, until it's time to do what a warrior does. Because you come from Equestria, you think it's all easily definable right and wrong, all black and white. Like knights defeating villains in fairy tales, heroes driving off the dragon. But believe me, outside the borders of your peaceful Equestria, we tell very different fairy tales."

Prey stopped. He looked down at his hoof, "What am I even doing? Monologuing? This is stupid. There's no point." He muttered. Prey turned away and pulled the hospital blanket up.

He vaguely waved a cloven hoof blindly towards Scenic, "Just...go away. We've had our talk and you've made your feelings clear. You're grateful, but you're equally horrified. That's fine. I'll see you at work. If I'm not thrown in jail by the time we've all healed."

Prey waited with his back turned, listening, but Scenic didn't call out for Carton Juice to come and fetch him. 

'Waaaait for it...'

'-Prey's a foal, he saved my life, how can I be like this? But it was still murder, Prey even said so himself, but he's just a child. None of us had any choice. I'm scared, a foal shouldn't be a killer, it's all so wrong and Prey scares me. No no, you're so selfish! Think about how Prey must feel-', Scenic wavered.

'...Annnnd bingo.'

Scenic cleared his throat, then cleared it again, "No that's, uh, that is to say, this is my fault Prey. I know it's not fair, and I don't think you're a bad pony, er, bad person. You guys all saved my life and I'm really thankful. But I'm also not a killer and I'm happy about that. You killed and I didn't have to. I'm proud I'm not a killer like you."

'-wait, no, that came out wrong!-'

Scenic hurried to adjust his words, "I, uh, what I mean is, I'm not judging you. Well I guess I am just a little, but I know I'm also wrong to judge you guys for saving me. But I am right in not wanting to kill. But I'm really sorry you had to kill is what I'm saying. And, uh, it's, I, you, j-just..."

Scenic's spiel was a sign that Prey had succeeded in his aim of inducing guilt. Guilt could change a lot of things. Here, it had made Scenic twist his own views around until he'd convinced himself he was just as much in the wrong as he was in the right. Prey had presented himself through the lens of a victimised child, one who'd been forced to make an impossible choice. Yet at the same time, Prey hadn't made himself look weak. Instead, he'd make Scenic think he himself was the weak one by not being strong enough to make the hard choices.

'All Scenic needs now is a bit more pushing, and guilt will corner him into feeling like he's indebted to me.' Prey thought. 

Which was only fair, since Prey had put up with so much from Scenic. The soft moron had almost gotten them both killed when he refused to finish off that kindersnatch as just one example. All it required was a bit more manipulation. Prey just needed to appear insulted by Scenic's apology, although not by too much since he didn't want Scenic to flee the room, just enough for him to agree to whatever Prey asked.

'Easily enough done. I'll simply pretend I didn't do it just for him, but for all of us. That's suitably noble and guilt inducing. I'll also point out Crimson has done the same, so that way he'll owe Crimson too.'

Yes, that was a good idea. Prey needed to start working on securing Crimson's own interests too. As a friend. That's what friends were supposed to do for each other, right?

Although that wouldn't be quite as effective a stimulation. A large part of the reason for Scenic's inner turmoil came because Prey was a child in his eyes, who looked the picture of an innocent, tragic victim, while Crimson was a full grown stallion, and a rather intimidating warrior to boot.

Still, it was good enough of a plan to take advantage of this spontaneous opportunity.

Prey rolled back over on the bed, a worn and tired expression carefully fixed on his face and ready to start spinning words. Then he stopped.

There was a look in Scenic's eyes, hidden behind the guilty conscience and pent up ball of emotions. One Prey had never actually witnessed, but recognised anyway. Prey remembered a little runt lamb, sobbing in a bush, as a merciless zebra voodoo witch forced him out onto the rocky path to carve rune traps. Gossamer hadn't wanted to be a murderer. Prey had done the deed in his stead.

He hadn't seen that look himself before, but Prey imagined that if he'd been able to look into Gossamer's face back then, he would've seen the same desperation now glinting in Scenic's eyes.

Scenic had been allowed to stop right on the brink, whereas Prey had always wished he could've halted.

Could Prey really despise Scenic for not wanting to be a murderer and not finishing that kindersnatch off? At wanting not to sink down to Prey's level? There was no ladder out once you fell into that pit.

'Can I hate him for not wanting to be like me?' Prey asked himself.

No. No he couldn't.

Prey needed to remember what innocence looked like sometimes. Not childish innocence, which only lasted until it met reality, but real innocence. The kind which saw the evil and the dark, and still chose to remain pure.

Prey let out a silent sigh. "I accept your apology Scenic. But I'll be absolutely clear, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant survival."

'A beat of my twisted little heart.'

"Uh, good, I guess? That we could resolve this?" Scenic said uncertainly. Scenic was no Crimson. The words spoken and unspoken did not go as far with him. There was still much Scenic did not understand, and because of his peaceful disposition, never would either.

'-feel so sorry for Prey for being a murderer. Celestia, being a Guard isn't what I imagined at all. Ever since I met the ISND everything has gone so wrong. They may all be stronger than me, but I can look myself in the mirror and know I'm still true to Harmony. I can be proud of that if nothing else-'

"You're still so young." Prey said, wryly shaking his head.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? You're much younger than me." Scenic protested. 

Prey just shook his head again, letting the wry smile grow, "Am I? Huh, I suppose I am only barely a teenager."

"Uh, yeah? That's how age works."

"So now that we've established I'm an unrepentant killer, what was next on the agenda?"

"Hey, that's not okay Prey. Don't ever flippantly say stuff like that. It isn't a joke." Scenic protested, genuinely offended.

'Who said I was joking?' Prey thought, but didn't say. 

"So what's next on the agenda?" He repeated instead, his smile fading.

Scenic winced, regretting voicing it like that, "I didn't mean it like that. I, well, uh, nothing I guess. I just wanted to say thank you. And sorry."

"Sorry? Are we referring to...?"

"Sorry for not being able to kill that kindersnatch. But I don't regret it." Scenic raised his chin, as if daring Prey to contradict him.

"Yes, we've already established your shiny morals. Your heart is pure and your head is empty. Was there anything else, or should I call your marefriend back in?" Prey paused, raising one eyebrow delicately.

"No. I mean yes! Yes, it's about Carton Juice actually. I, uh..." Scenic hunched his shoulders.

"I swear if you're about to ask me, a lamb, for relationship advice-"

"No it's nothing like that! It's... She doesn't know about what happened. I, um, haven't told her and she hasn't asked. Yet. But she'll want to know eventually, I know Carton. And there's no way I can tell her about what...what really happened. I mean, some of it's restricted anyways, but she'll want an overview at least. What do I tell her? How do I explain all the, all the... like, all the scars?"

"Why're you asking me?" Prey asked incredulously. 

"Because, because... Because I've got to ask somepony!"

"Well I've got some good news and some bad news."

"Uh, I'll take the good news-"

"The bad news is I have no idea how." Prey said, turning to plump his pillow.

"But I said-"

"The good news? You get the chance to figure it out with her yourself. Like a good couple is supposed to." Prey cheerily said, lying back in the bed. He raised his voice before Scenic could protest, "Miss Carton Juice? Can you please come back in? We're done now."


---


It was early night. The blinds had been drawn by the nurse, and the room was cast in a comfortable darkness. Outside the hospital walls, somewhere, there was a dog which either needed to be let outside, or brought inside. Or hit on the head with a shovel. It'd been happily barking every five seconds on the dot for the last hour like clockwork, and sounded like it meant to go on happily barking every five seconds for the rest of eternity.

*Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!*

Prey's eyes flicked open as the door softly clicked.

Prey sat up as the dim light from the corridor was allowed in. If this wasn't Lemon Pink coming to report in, there was only one other person Prey wanted to see coming through that door, and so-help-him if it was anyone else with funny ideas he was going to shatter their mind-

A pair of familiar amber yellow eyes shimmered softly in the low light, and a gleam of green hung around his neck. Prey smiled in welcome, but then his smile fell as a second pair of reflective yellow eyes, these ones slit, appeared behind Crimson and followed him into the room. No greeting was offered.

If this were a normal child's bedroom, this would've been a terrifying encounter for said child. Hell, the parents wouldn't have been too thrilled at meeting two glowing eyed ponies in the dark either.

Gloom, without looking at either of them, rounded the bed and took the seat. Prey affixed a neutral expression on his face. Just because he couldn't see their expressions in the dark, didn't mean they couldn't see his expression. Once again, the fortunate few with night vision didn't appreciate their advantage.

There was a long silence as Gloom continued looking at nothing and Crimson stood at ease on the other side of the bed.

Prey waited. Crimson waited. The dog continued to bark somewhere in the background every five seconds.

*Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* 

Gloom sighed and finally spoke, "Crimson's talked me into reconsidering. I'm going to stay on as your Sargent."

Straight to the point. Seemed Gloom didn't want to have to discuss his decision, he just wanted this over with.

Prey nodded once, knowing the other two would see it in the dark, "So the ISND is going to remain as a unit and not get disbanded?" He checked.

"It was never going to be disbanded. What gave you that idea?"

Well that was good to know. It seemed Luna wasn't dissatisfied enough to throw them all away, at least not yet. Prey just shrugged in answer to Gloom's query and returned it with one of his own.

"Why?" He asked, not needing to clarify. 'Why did you change your mind?'

"Because." Gloom said.

'Oh, well that explains everything doesn't it?'

Crimson shifted in the dark, and Prey saw Gloom's head briefly turn in the pegasus's direction before looking back down. There was the sound of Gloom sighing, and then he expounded:

"Because of Princess Luna. Her Majesty spoke with me, actually in pony, not just in my dreams. She told me to reconsider. How could I not stay after Her Majesty herself asked me to remain in the ISND?"

So all it took was a few words from Luna, not even a conversation by the sounds of it, just her giving him an order, and just like that Gloom completely turned his resolve around? What had Luna ever done to ensure such loyalty from the thestral clans? Prey genuinely didn't have a clue, even after what Crimson had somewhat explained. Luna had dragged the clans down with her when she'd given in to Nightmare Moon, and they'd joined her in exile for a thousand years. If they were only following her now because of threat or force, that didn't explain their fanatical devotion.

"Okay," Prey said in acceptance, "So the ISND will remain. Is Nighthawk going to be springing any more surprise recruits on us to replace Lilly and Scenic?"

"No, definitely not." Gloom said vehemently, "Not after... Not after what happened the last time. The ISND is no place for greenies and the inexperienced. That's been proven beyond all doubt."

Gloom fell silent again. The annoying dog kept barking in the distance, but what more was there to say really? The future was still unknown and uncertain, but at least a part of it had been stabilised. And although Gloom still hadn't actually apologised, at least he hadn't asked Prey about the Bone Rot mines like Scenic had. Or about the other things. Prey thought it likely Gloom honestly didn't want to know the answer.

Crimson, ever unpredictable Crimson, finally spoke up, "I saw Taffy up at the Palace today."

"Taffy Hopes?" Gloom asked, breaking from his brooding in surprise. As if there could be any other eccentric unicorn by that name out there, but it really did seem out of joint with what they'd been talking about.

"Yes," Crimson confirmed tonelessly, "She says she has a quintuple mountain of paperwork waiting for you. Her words."

Gloom groaned, and then snorted a laugh, "Of course she does."

"And she also said she would bake us a tray of sorry-toffee. Because she's sorry about us all being in hospital."

'-typical Taffy. She thinks all the problems in the world can be solved with enough paperwork or if that fails, sugar. If only-', Gloom thought with a small sigh.

"Oh, and Lilly Blossom's parents are suing us." Crimson added.

"Pardon?"

"Well, they're trying to sue us. Or sue the Night Guard. It wasn't that clear. But I don't think they care which."

"Can they even do that? And sue us for what?"

Crimson's feathers rustled as he shrugged in the dark, "Don't know. But they're suing for what happened to Lilly with the meld wood."

"Oh. I see." Gloom said, sounding suddenly sick.

"Captain Nighthawk told me to tell everyone not to talk with them or their lawyers at all. He said the Night Guard would deal with it."

"Do you think that's who really sent Strange Happenstance?" Prey suggested. This was another factor thankfully pointing towards the private detective not secretly being a mimic in disguise.

"That... would make a lot of sense." Crimson agreed after a moment's thought.

"Strange Happenstance? Who's that and what happened?" Gloom asked, lost.

Prey left it to Crimson to fill Gloom in on the brief encounter Prey'd had. Gloom knew he should be more worried, and also outraged at the detective's insinuations, but; '-I just can't stir myself to care enough to worry-'

*Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!* Pause, *Rarff!*

"Well," Gloom eventually said heavily, getting off the stool, "I've kept you from your rest long enough Prey. Just... focus on getting better and ignore this other stuff about the detective and Lilly's parents. It'll all work out. Probably."

But inside, Prey could read that the Sargent didn't believe his own words. And how could he? The thestral was still saturated with guilt and feelings of failure. What'd happened over the mountain range hadn't been erased, and all those deaths weren't something you could just move on from.

Without saying goodbye, Gloom pulled the door open and hurriedly left. He hadn't actually said sorry once for planning to abandon them in the ISND. While Prey knew this was all very difficult for Gloom, it was also difficult for everyone else.

Prey considered the closed door in the dark, absently smoothing down an annoying tuft of bandage under his eye which kept sticking up. It was a strange contrast between Gloom and Scenic when you compared the two. Scenic had started out weak and uncommitted, but somehow the things he'd seen, in a way, had strengthened his resolve. Broken it in other ways, yes, but strengthened the rest of it. Whereas Gloom had been fully committed and dedicated, but what happened had diminished his will instead.

Out in the darkness, the dog finally ceased its tireless yapping.

"I think it best if I leave you to rest." Crimson said.

"Oh, thanks. Goodnight Crimson."

"Night watch over you." Crimson said goodbye.

"Until tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."


---


Five minutes... Ten minutes... Fifteen minutes...

Prey was just drifting off towards sleep, when the feeling approaching his door made him sit up.

He smiled as the door gave a soft, almost imperceptible *click* He'd had a feeling that tonight was a night of happenings, and he'd been right.

"Welcome back, Lemon Pink. Come in, we have much to discuss."


---


Prey's smile was long gone, as was something else very important.

"Gone?" Prey repeated, just to be absolutely sure.

"It was not where you stashed it. The mimic's corpse had been removed when I got to the ravine." Lemon Pink repeated in her blank voice. She stood at the foot of his bed, looking the worse for wear from her travels back across the Ridgeback, but patiently waiting.

"No chance a flash flood could've washed it away?"

"None. The corpse was purposefully removed by an unknown party."

It really was gone. Prey didn't bite his hoof or curse, despite how bad this was. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to think. The mimic's body was gone. Prey had wanted to study it, but somehow a third unknown person or persons had retrieved it first. Since he'd hidden the mimic's body himself at the bottom of the ravine, the only way it could've been found was if the person already knew what they were looking for before hoof, meaning this person or persons knew who or what mimics were. Which meant they already knew more than Prey did.

It couldn't have been the deer holt, nor was it a scavenger. First, the deer had already fled the forest by that point, and second, Lemon had related how even the dried green blood traces had been carefully removed from the rocks.

'Someone knew what they were looking for. Did another mimic come to retrieve their fellow? Nighthawk never found out who sent those false orders from the Border Guard. Have the mimics infiltrated the Border Guards' command structure? Or are they willingly co-operating and trying to cover this up?'

Prey didn't know enough to rule out any of those possibilities. Two things were for certain though. 

One, there was someone out there who wanted to keep the existence of mimics a secret, and two, they were now aware that someone else also knew about mimics. And if they'd been keeping an eye on the forest, they had a very short list of who that 'someone' could be. Gloom, Crimson, Lilly, Scenic, Hard Baked, or Prey. 

Who had really sent Strange Happenstance? Lemon's revelation threw the private detective's real intentions and origins back into immediate question.  

There was no beating about the bush. This was bad. The sort of bad that would end with Prey being hunted again, because this person or persons had two options now. Hope whoever had found out about Mimics, (Prey), kept their mouth shut, or to try silencing the person who knew. Again, that being Prey.

The world wasn't fair, but Prey felt this was really exceptionally unfair. He'd only just survived getting hunted by an abomination constructed by a crazy warlock, along with kindersnatches, a Wolfing Wood, a Mama'duke, and poisoning. He wasn't even out of hospital yet from that last encounter, and already there was another unknown enemy lining up to try and kill him.

If Prey's new enemy was another mimic or mimics, with their disguise abilities, they could be anyone. And even if it wasn't mimics, well, his enemy could still be anyone.

Prey lay back on his pillow with gritted teeth, raising his hooves to massage at his ears, 'Back to being hunted again at every turn, never knowing when an attack might come. It's almost as bad as the Deeper Green. Traps, poisons, a knife in the dark.'

Prey halted for a second, hooves mid-circle, 'Actually, now that I think about it, this changes very little.'

Prey was always on guard for poisons and traps, that hadn't stopped just because he'd come to Canterlot. Nothing was going to change there, he was still going to be as on guard as ever. It wasn't paranoia if they really were out to get you.

'If they want a war, then a war we'll have. I didn't survive the Deeper Green for nothing.'

Except now Prey didn't just have himself to worry about.

Crimson had to be kept safe too at all costs. Or at nearly all conceivable costs.

Prey opened his eyes with a sigh and stopped working circles into his floppy ears. Lemon Pink leaned slightly forwards, ready to hear his orders. She, like him, was perfectly aware of what the missing body of the mimic Shimmer meant, and she'd had the whole trip back across the Ridgeback to consider the implications.

Prey cleared his throat and spoke clearly, "New orders. Finding a secure base is now our top priority after survival and secrecy. Ideally it'll be a place where the veropedes can be housed too."

An old thought came back to Prey, "Try the sewers, perhaps they'll serve. I do know the main pipelines are large enough to admit a pony, and are usually only inspected by magical scans rather than in person. The overflow pipes would be a good place to start."

"Yes, Prey." Lemon nodded, accepting the suggestion.

"Returning to the matter of the veropedes, do you have anything to add from your observations while bringing them back through the Diamond Dog tunnels?"

'The same Diamond Dogs you sacrificed.' Prey silently added.

"Yes, Prey. The beasts do not like the cold, but can withstand it even better than I can. Although dangerous to ride because of the spines, they make decent transport as they are nearly tireless. They also grow harder to control as they grow hungrier."

"What do you mean? Did they try to eat you?" Prey asked sharply.

"No, Prey. The veropedes did not break free of the runes binding them, even when I was not awake to reinforce my commands. It is just harder to get them to correctly interpret the commands you give. They keep defaulting back to searching for prey."

'As it was always going to be. Hunger can only ever be delayed, never satisfied.' Prey let out his breath, thinking of the two giant armoured centipede monsters, "That's good. What else, and where are the veropedes now?"

"Hidden in one of the woods at the base of Canterlot mountain, burrowed underground and in torpor. The largest, the one hatched by you, seems to be inquisitive. It examines almost everything and I had to almost constantly keep its instincts in check whenever we encountered something new."

Prey thought about the enormous insect encountering some random woodspony, and being inquisitive with its flaying antenna, and didn't bother hiding a shudder.

"The smaller one, hatched by me, seems to be the alpha of the two. It is only because of your runes that they do not try to kill each other for dominance, I think. They are obedient tools. Both are female too." Lemon Pink added on the end, stifling a yawn.

"Mentioning them being hungry, they need to be fed. I know they can enter an almost hibernation state when not active, so there's that, but even so, they need to be fed, and soon."

"Yes, Prey."

Prey would've liked to go and see his two new tools of mass destruction and fear himself, but for now, Lemon Pink would have to look after the two beasts in his place. He absently tugged at a knot in his wool, "The plan for feeding the veropedes once they'd hatched hasn't changed. We will be utilising the meat farm industry."

The meat industry in Equestria was something not many knew about. Ponies didn't eat meat, and very few non-ponies lived among the population. Thus, the topic was not something which would ever be mentioned in polite conversation. It disgusted ponies, but there were more than a few Earth pony farmers who quietly took advantage of the meat trade. Pigs could be raised on waste and slops, and then carted off by train to Griffonia for a tidy little profit. For gold ponies were willing to do it, but not speak of it.

Oh, the farmers didn't kill the pigs themselves, and would shudder whenever they thought about what those feathered savages did across the border, but needs must and it put gold in the pocket and bread on the table.

Fish was the only animal eaten by ponies, but only by pegasi and even then, only rarely and it was still considered primitive and uncultured. Unless it was in a restaurant of course, and then it was classy.

But the good news for Prey was that there was a source of meat available for his veropedes, one that didn't involve risking discovery by letting the two monsters out to hunt. Which would definitely happen when the remains of some unfortunate farm house a hungry veropede wandered across at night was found.

The bad news was there was still a low level risk of a connection being drawn by the farmers. Disguise or no, all it would take was one overly curious farmer asking lucky or rather unlucky questions about where their pigs were really being sent.

Oh, and the price, but Prey was never overly concerned about bits. 

"Take however much you need out of the gold stash. Keep both the veropedes well fed." Prey ordered, uncaring of the cost.

"Yes, Prey."

"And there are going to have to be some changes in security. Here, come see." Prey ordered, holding up his hoof.

Lemon Pink stepped forwards, the now rather dirty cloak shifting around her shoulders as she raised her own hoof to meet his smaller one. The outside world faded into a mind bridge. Prey felt the familiar sensation of Lemon Pink's mind, that of cold, dry sand, while Lemon felt Prey's, that of barbed razors. Linked like this and without any walls up, Prey got the unique experience of both points of view, as did Lemon Pink.

Prey took note of how Lemon's outer mindscape, an ashen courtyard, felt a little more stable than last time. Which was good. It meant she was slowly returning to Night Watcher's former strength.

'Here.' Prey mentally sent across to Lemon, bringing up his memories of everything relevant which'd happened since he woke up here in the hospital.

The important points as far as they pertained to Lemon were about the ISND's new precarious position within the Night Guard, both because of outside investigator scrutiny, and the inspectors from within. Prey knew it was only a matter of time until Nighthawk started asking exactly how Prey'd done everything he had in Mayflower.

He also shared Strange Happenstance's suspicious visit, Gloom's reluctance to serve as the ISND's officer anymore, his own speculations about Luna, and everything about the Mimic Shimmer he'd considered. Just because Lemon Pink already knew everything he did about the Mimic was no reason not to double check they were on the same page.

And of course, Prey heavily emphasised just how important Crimson now was. A friend. His only friend. 'Crimson is no longer just an asset. He is a priority. No matter what my new enemy in the shadows sends against us, he needs to be kept safe. Understood?'

'Yes, Prey.'

Did Prey just catch a flash of something from the depths of Lemon Pink's mind? A dissatisfied twitch? Prey gave no indication he'd noticed anything, but he would not forget it.

It wasn't really a concern anyhow, since Lemon Pink could not betray him.

'I don't know how or when the first strike against me might come, but we need to be ready. I need defences, runes, a safe place, and secrecy. For all I know, they might be bold enough to attack me within the Royal Palace itself.'

'Yes, Prey.'

'And from now on, whenever we meet, you will have to do so in disguise. And once we've met, go somewhere public before you discard the disguise in case we were somehow being watched.'

'Yes, Prey.'

Prey was silent for a thoughtful moment. He was still thinking about the veropedes. He may not have fully realised all the details, but Prey knew those two leashed monsters were going to drastically influence his daily life. And no, not like having a puppy. They were weapons, not pets.

However there wasn't much Prey could do while he was still in the hospital, since preparing runic defences around the room would be a waste when he was going to be gone in a few days. Hopefully gone, anyway. Besides, he was in hospital for a reason, and preparing even a basic set of proper runic defences would take twelve hours of solid work. Minimum. And that was only for the bare basics. Being without this a defence was not at all comforting to Prey, but there was no way to get that much unobserved time in a busy hospital anyway.

That struck off a parallel thought in Prey's head.

'What happened to the plants you were taking care of?' Prey asked, remembering the carefully selected potted plants he and Lemon Pink had picked out from the underground market. The kind with some very interesting properties if prepared right. Interesting, and deadly. 

'I left them attended to by the house owner of the room I am renting. The mare believes them to be her own pot plants.' Lemon answered.

Meaning Lemon Pink had invaded the mare's mind, and left behind a mental compulsion to water the plants. It was rather extreme, where politely  asking the mare to do so would've almost certainly yielded the same result. Ponies were always happy to help a fellow pony.

But Lemon had gone for the extreme option, and on her return to her apartment, would erase the mare's memories of the pot plants all together. After Mayflower, Prey wasn't sure how okay he was with the casual creation of victims for convenience sake. 

'It's fine, the mare won't even know anything happened once Lemon gets back. It's not like I'm injuring or robbing her.' Prey rationalised to himself without letting his thoughts leak over to Lemon Pink.

He refocused and broadcast his next thoughts to Lemon, letting her know he considered not needing to replace the plants a nice bonus, but not that important, 'If there is a next time, just abandon the plants if it isn't feasible to arrange a caretaker. Those plants are replaceable, lives are not.'

'Yes, Prey.'

'And you.'

'Pardon, Prey?'

'You. You need to take care of yourself now. You are no use to me if you can't function. You've lost a fair amount of weight from crossing the Ridgeback. Twice. You haven't washed, and your memories shout you've been running a mild fever for the last two days.'

'What shall I do, then?' Lemon Pink asked, completely willing to do whatever Prey ordered.

'Go rest and sleep until noon tomorrow. Get some medication. Then take care of the most pressing issues; the veropedes and finding a lair. Refrain from travelling out of Canterlot otherwise. I've ordered you to take at least an hour each day to relax. Until you are fully recovered, increase that to three. Understand?'

'Yes, Prey.'

Giving Lemon those three hours when they so desperately needed all the time they could get to prepare was a strain, but Prey needed Lemon Pink recovered as fast as possible. Tools work best when sharp. He could only hope the time wouldn't cost him too much in the end.

'Prey, there is another matter.' Lemon Pink sent, the feeling which accompanied the thought indicating it wasn't something good either.

There was no point stalling. The sooner Prey knew the bad news, the sooner he could start planning around whatever it was; 'Show me.'

The memory was called up and displayed before Prey across their linked mindscapes. It was a memory of Hard Baked's terrible workshop. Before Lemon Pink had left to return to Canterlot, she'd gone to the warlock's old lair to salvage a few items of interest left undestroyed by Gloom's fit of anger which she'd noted from Hard Baked's memories.

Prey remembered what the lair looked like just fine. The red witch lights, the foul stench masked under bundles of sweet herbs hanging from the cave ceiling, the dark vats dug into the floor, and of course the shelves of bones and dead flesh.

That wasn't what Lemon Pink's memory was showing him. The cave had been ransacked, cleaned out, and then cleansed with fire. The lingering smell of smoke was strong in Lemon's recall, and in her place Prey felt the blackened stones still hot beneath her hooves.

It seemed the mimics, or whomever had retrieved Shimmer's corpse, hadn't limited themselves to just retrieving the false Border Guard's corpse. They'd wanted the warlock's work too, or at the very least, to stop anyone else from getting their hooves on it.

'Unfortunate.' Was all Prey said. It was inconvenient, but not that unexpected. Because of course this new enemy in the shadows wouldn't have stopped with just Shimmer's corpse when the opportunity presented itself.

'They left no clues you could find as to who they may be?' Prey asked without any expectation.

He wasn't disappointed, 'No, Prey.'

Prey briefly wondered what the Night Guard had made of the burnt out lair which, to their knowledge, should've been untouched, Gloom's minor destructive spree notwithstanding.

Prey put the lair from his mind since it was a dead end, and Lemon did the same, dismissing the memory. It all faded back to grey ash and a starry courtyard. Prey observed the transition, thinking and judging.

All of Prey's other projects would have to go on hold. And until Lemon Pink, Crimson, and himself were safely protected, those projects would have to remain that way. Not that Crimson would be aware of Prey and Lemon's work. The danger was very real, and not something Prey was taking lightly.

However, Prey himself did have a bunch of free time on his hooves. Since he was the hospital and lacked the time and privacy to build any set of runes even resembling a proper defence, that meant he had nothing to do while lying here waiting to heal.

Aside from caring for the two veropedes and keeping them hidden, and most importantly fed, there were only two, no, three projects that Prey didn't want to put on hold, and which could be worked on while he was wasting his time here in hospital.

Well, two of them he could. The third wasn't so much a project, as the outline of a plan. One which Prey was not looking forward to, but needed to be done. The encounter with the reaper king proved that. If Prey could steel himself to go through with it, that is. 

Prey shuddered and quickly turned his thoughts towards the other two, much more measurable goals, letting Lemon Pink see his thoughts.

'If I am to sit here in hospital, I may as well spend my daily strength and time doing some useful rune work. I think solving the newest additions to The List, don't you?'

It would be better than just sitting and anxiously waiting for whatever Nighthawk or Luna decided to do with the ISND.

Lemon Pink caught on immediately, 'Yes, Prey. The lure totem needs a mundane base. What would you like me to get?' 

Prey thought for a moment. But in the end, despite his distaste, there was only one item that would be fitting. 

'Find and buy me a little Celestia figurine. No more than five inches high, solid copper, iron, or silver. Plated will do if there's nothing else. Not any other metal. Unpolished if possible. Unenchanted in every way too. Just the sort of normal ornamental statue ponies put on their mantle piece. No one would suspect a statue of their beloved Sun Wolf.' Prey thought darkly.

'Yes, Prey.'

'Second, go to the underground market, or even one of the famous Magi tower shops. Get me some electrite. I've never worked with it before, but for what I plan that'll do. About nine ounces of the metal ought to do it.'

'I estimate it will not be so simple, Prey.'

'Why not?'

'Electrite is very rare and even more expensive. I estimate the sellers will not merely be satisfied with an exchange of money. They will not sell unless they are sure of the buyers intentions and legitimacy.'

'That bad?'

'I predict so, yes, Prey.'

Prey was not pleased. He was prepared to actually pay rather than steal the electrite, but for some reason it seemed taking the honest route would actually garner more unwanted attention than not. 

'Ponies and their incessant need to stick their unwanted nosy muzzles where they don't belong.'

For some reason, ponies seemed incapable of understanding when something wasn't any of their business, and just had to get a slice of the pie. They poked and prodded and demanded, and then were horrified when they lost their hoof at the ankle. The saying; 'Curiosity killed the cat', should be 'Curiosity killed the pony'.

'Fine, we're doing it this way then. Find a thief in the underground market, anyone shady will do. Visit the market in disguise and walk around scanning people's thoughts until you find a good candidate. Invite them to discuss a business opportunity over coffee or something. Then stun them with the mind blank spell, and insert the compulsion to take the job no matter what, with the job being stealing enough electrite for my uses.'

'Yes, Prey.'

'If they succeed in stealing some electrite, good. If they fail, make a new disguise and find someone else. Repeat. If they succeed, stun them again, take the electrite, and implant a false memory about them finding the electrite already stolen when they broke in. Oh, and place a false calling card too.' Prey added in a moment of flippant inspiration.

The notion was completely ridiculous, but because it was so outlandish and stupid, the enraged owners who caught Lemon's thief, (and Prey was certain they would eventually track down and catch the thief), they'd be completely baffled by the story the thief told. 

Even if they tortured the thief, or dug up an illegal mind mage from somewhere, however unlikely that was, the thief's story would hold true. Because the thief would believe it was true.

The angry owner would be left chasing a ghost which didn't exist, like some kind of daring cat burglar in those ridiculous fictional pony stories.

'Once you have the electrite don't touch it or use it. Scan it for enchantments, and even if you don't find anything, hide it somewhere for a full week. Only if no one's recovered it by then are you to bring the electrite to me. Clear?'

'Yes, Prey.'

'Good. Oh, and what's the going rate for electrite?' Prey asked, mildly interested.

Lemon Pink's memory was almost as eidetic as his own, so she had little trouble recalling the prices from when she was in the underground market a month ago, 'As of one month ago, it was nine-hundred bits for a ten centimeter spool. Or two-thousand eight-hundred and fifty per ounce.'

And Prey wanted nine ounces of the ridiculously precious magical metal. While Prey still had a great deal of money from Garrow left over, it was not an unlimited resource. Perhaps stealing it really was the best way to go after all.

'See to it,' Prey ordered, 'But only after the veropedes are taken care of, you've rested, and seen to your own safety first.'

'Yes, Prey.'

'Good. And... Thank you. Again. For coming when you did to Mayflower.'

'I... yes, Prey.'

Prey kept his mindscape blank for a long moment as he reviewed everything they'd just exchanged. 'That's all for now.'

Prey broke the mental connection and let reality wash back in. He blinked around the dark room. Lemon didn't waste time saying goodbye, she was already heading back for the door, stifling a huge but silent yawn of her own.

The door shut after her, and that was that. Or he hoped it was.


---


Prey didn't get much sleep that night.

Lemon Pink may have made it back to Canterlot, bringing the veropedes and removing some of his problems, but she'd brought back with her a much more serious one. The mimic or mimics, and what that meant for him. They were already circling out there in the murk somewhere, like an angler shark.

It's cold out there in the middle of the ocean, cold, dark, and lonely. There's nowhere to hide. You can't out swim the shark. All you can do is defensively draw in your limbs to present no easy targets and try to be facing it head on when the attack finally comes.

Which was what Prey was going to do. He was preparing his defences and getting ready. 

'But I have teeth of my own now, and I'm not afraid to bite. If you want to swim in the same waters as me, you need to watch out for the whirlpools first.' Prey thought darkly, grimly promising no mercy for whomever or whatever came for him. Sometimes it doesn't matter who the bigger shark is, but which is hungrier. Only time would tell if Prey was the one.


------


Nighthawk came the next day, with all the authority of Luna behind him, looking for answers. And this time, he wasn't going to take no for an answer. It was just what Prey had been dreading.


---


The day started the same way. He woke up in the same bed, the same annoying doctor with those glass bottle spectacles had come and did the same morning check of Prey's vitals. ("You're doing great. In fact, we can take out some of those stitches today for you. Won't that be great?")

Following that had come a truly terrible breakfast, almost as bad as one of Cookie's, and then the start of a long, boring morning where Prey had nothing to do but stare with distaste up at that stupid foal's mobile. He'd already finished all the newspapers Crimson had kindly brought, (Lemon not having gotten him any of the materials he'd requested yet, nor did he anticipate she would for several days yet), and there was nothing to do but lie here. His healing wounds felt itchy and scratchy, especially the poison burnt skin under and around his eyes.

Prey was lying restlessly in bed, worrying and uncomfortable, still being peeved over his damaged eyesight, when Crimson arrived.

"Crimson!" Prey exclaimed, sitting up enthusiastically, irritation wiped away. "Come in and talk with me, please. I'm so bored."

Crimson half cocked an ear and obliged, shutting the door and taking the stool once again; "Did you sleep well last night? After we disturbed you, I mean."

"As well as could be expected. Well done on talking Gloom around by the way. I would strongly prefer not to have someone else as our Sargent." Prey said, kicking aside the blanket so he could more comfortably fold his legs and lie down on his front to talk with Crimson.

"Me very much too. I cannot imagine serving Princess Luna without Gloom as the Sargent."

Prey didn't agree with the 'serving-Princess-Luna' bit, but Crimson and him were each different people with different goals, and that was okay. It didn't matter to Prey if they didn't both see everything the same way. What's more, he didn't have to agree, and Crimson wouldn't take offence over that.

"Well, last night was hardly the time to ask, but what's happening out there at the moment? Anything important?" Prey asked. Lemon Pink, only just having returned from trekking across the mountains last night, understandably hadn't been up to date with what was happening in Canterlot. And anything reported as 'important' in the newspapers was almost exclusively drivel. Actually, you could remove the 'almost'.

Prey was finding this so novel. To ask a question, and actually have to wait for it to be answered out loud instead of hearing the answer in their head, and not being annoyed by the wait at all.

Crimson gave a wing flick of disdain; "Yes. Something did happen." His tone said all there was to know about his own opinion of what he had to say next:

"After that Gala dancing party which so delayed the Night Guard-"

"It's a little bit more than just a party. It's a huge political gathering. Oh, sorry, please continue." Prey quickly apologised when he realised he'd interrupted Crimson. 

Crimson just shrugged his wings to show he wasn't bothered, "After that Gala, where those cowards tried to discredit Princess Luna, the vote finally happened. The Crop Holders won."

The Crop Holders? It took a moment for Prey to recall the distant seeming problem with the Crop Sharers and Holders following Wheat Plow's trial. The riots seemed such a distant memory.

"Oh. So Green Fields won, did he?" Prey asked contemplatively, twirling the end of the ribbon around his hoof.

Crimson tilted one ear, "Was that the Crop Holder leader name?"

"Yes, that's him, the one Wheat Plow was planning to frame."

"Oh. Then yes, he won." Crimson said with disinterest. 

A major political victory and loss, a paradigm shift in power to the Crop Sharers, and the dedicated efforts of hundreds of ponies who wholeheartedly believed in their party, all reduced to a disinterested; "Oh".

"Anyway, the Night Guard has arrested two of the lords."

"Pardon? Which lords are we talking about?" Prey asked.

"The lords who tried to blackmail Princess Luna, of course." Crimson answered.

"I thought she said to ignore them and not make repercussions?"

"Well, they've been arrested now, so the Night Guard must've discovered them doing something criminal not related to the Gala," Crimson flicked his wing again, "A lord Raspberry, and somepo-somebody called Duke Stroffanhoof. I don't know what they did. Because we're on medical leave I mean, so the ISND haven't been told yet."

A duke was not a lord, but Prey got the point of what Crimson was saying, and he couldn't help but smile cruelly at the news. Both the duke and lord the were rich, privileged ponies who'd been greedy enough to grasp for more. Hearing about their misery amused Prey. Although he wouldn't have been pleased to be told that, on him, the smile actually looked like one a small child who'd wandered into a candy store and found it was a free taster day might wear.

Prey didn't know about anyone else, but he'd been personally stunned at the audacity, the sheer unprecedented arrogance of the nobles when he'd heard how they'd tried to blackmail Luna. Were they dropped on their heads as foals? Had they gone selectively blind to the fact that Luna was an alicorn? Couldn't they see her horn and wings? Had they really beloved such an insane scheme would work, and regardless of whether it did or not, that they'd get away with it?

'Did they meet and plan in secret, pat each other on the backs and stoke themselves up until they believed their own lies about it being for the best? That Luna would hesitate if there were enough of them opposing her, just because of 'law', 'equality', and 'freedom of speech'?'

Was it something in the water that made politicians think themselves so smart? So untouchable? So above reproach?

Prey could only shake his head at their stupidity, 'I can scarce believe it took them this long to learn what all people living across the border know. That ponies only care about their own, and by opposing Luna, they showed themselves to be traitors. Abject failures, the lot of them. Their parents should be ashamed.'

Prey was halted from speaking with Crimson further, as he would've liked to have done, by Nighthawk arriving.

Captain Nighthawk didn't knock. He just opened the door and marched straight in.

Nighthawk paused briefly on seeing Prey and Crimson both in here talking. 

"You visiting Crimson? Never mind, this actually saves time." Nighthawk said with gruff briskness.

Prey hadn't really been expecting to see the Night Guard Captain. The sun was up and it was halfway to noon. Nighthawk's work day was long over, he should be in bed right about now. Not to mention, Prey didn't want to see Nighthawk either. This boded ill.

Behind Nighthawk, Lieutenant Starry Wing followed him inside, and Prey saw a further two Night Guards standing outside in the hallway. Why had Nighthawk brought so many Guards? Was this all a prelude to arresting him and Crimson? Prey sat up on his haunches rather than continue lying down. He wanted to be ready.

"Captain Nighthawk." Crimson nodded, standing and addressing the Captain formally even if he wasn't on duty at the moment.

"What've you come for?" Prey finished, eyes flicking to Starry Wing who stood blocking the closed door.

'-answers-'

"Answers." Nighthawk stated just as plainly as his thoughts. No subterfuge. No one could ever accuse the Captain of not being to the point.

"Ah, answers. I see." Prey repeated, smiling pleasantly. 'You come in here and demand answers, and think I somehow owe them to you. I see.'

"But I already gave my report sir." Crimson said.

"You did. I'm here to get Prey's own report."

Prey's small smile stayed firm, taking on a slightly confused edge. "Me? What could I tell you that Gloom, Scenic, or Crimson haven't already?"

Nighthawk's yellow eyes did not waver for even a second, "That's what I'm here to find out."

Prey let his eyes slide away, but not lower. He wasn't going to cower before Nighthawk, unless he had to. 'Until then, act like you've done nothing you had any choice in, no matter how disreputable those choices were.'

When Prey didn't otherwise respond, Nighthawk grunted, "Let's not waste any time then and get started."


---


Prey was a master at lying, but what was the saying? 'What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.' It's commonly accepted that a liar will eventually be the cause of their own fall. Give them enough rope and they'll hang themselves when they forget a previous lie and contradict themselves in the future. Prey's memory however, was near eidetic. But that's not what made him such a good liar.

Prey lied by avoiding lying. As in; he rarely told an outright lie. It was much simpler to read a person's thoughts and use misdirection to subtly direct them however he wanted. Recently, (or at least since coming into the ISND), he'd been avoiding telling direct lies when at all possible. Gloom's special talent had an annoying habit of catching lies half the time.

But Gloom wasn't here, and Prey had a whole host of lies and misdirection prepared for Nighthawk.

'Your name's not on The List Nighthawk. Keep it that way.'


---


Swim or sink. Prey was used to those being his only two options and being thrown in at the deep end. So he was very surprised when Nighthawk didn't proceed in the manner he'd been expecting at all.


---


"These questions are for Prey, and Prey only. Unless I ask you something directly, do not interfere Crimson."

"I understand." Crimson said, eyes flicking sideways to Prey for just a moment. Translation; Crimson was being ordered not to help Prey nor to give him any hints. If it were anyone but Crimson, Prey would've been able to hear what they didn't say regardless, but not this time. Things could never be simple.

Nighthawk caught the exchange of looks of course, '-both have grown closer after surviving adversity. Perhaps they've learnt the hard truth of being a team. But they can't be a team for these questions-'

"Let's make something very clear first Prey." Nighthawk said, leaning forwards.

Prey braced himself, "And that is?"

"This is not an interrogation. Nor are you being accused of anything."

Prey didn't think he gave any outward sign of his surprise, but perhaps Nighthawk was expecting surprise anyway, because he explained anyway, "I find it best to make that clear from the very beginning. I am not the Royal Guard. I am Captain Nighthawk of the Night Guard, and you are a Night Guard."

'-I'm not Shining Armour reaching above my station. Nor do I not misuse my authority-' 

"Okay." Prey acknowledged slowly. 

He didn't look at the Lieutenant standing behind Nighthawk, but he listened and Starry Wing's thoughts matched what Nighthawk was saying. If this was a trap, they were both rigidly not thinking about it. 

'This is... not what I expected.'

Sometimes, Prey forgot Nighthawk wasn't Valour. Both had known/knew Prey was a criminal, having both pulled him from prison to recruit, and yet while Nighthawk was far more pragmatic than Valour had ever been, Prey still couldn't envision the Solar Guard ever having had any understanding of Prey's actions in Nighthawk's place. 

Sure, Valour had also known Prey was a mind leech, but on the other hoof, Valour hadn't known Prey was a killer, while Nighthawk was the reverse. He knew Prey was a killer, but not a mind magic user.

But surely each of those two things cancelled the other out? Yet here Nighthawk was starting out interrogating Prey by assuring him he had no plans to punish him. And Prey couldn't catch anything in his thoughts to the contrary either.

'How strange.'

"So, uh, what did you want to know?" Prey asked, letting himself visibly relax a tiny bit. Just a fraction, barely enough to be noticeable.

Nighthawk was a thestral though. Of course he noticed the slight shift. Just as Prey had intended.

"Give me your perspective of what happened from when you first got off the train in Alfalfa Dale. Thoughts which stick out. Strange impressions. Anything that might be important."

'-I've heard from Gloom. I've heard from Crimson. I've heard from Scenic-',  Nighthawk thought as he spoke.

'-each pony has raised points the others missed. What does Prey have to unknowingly add to this sordid mess?-', Starry Wing finished.

Prey paused to gather his thoughts, but not long enough to be suspected of doing any more than that, "Well, it went like this..."


---<>---


Nighthawk paused Prey in his retelling, "You say the villagers were not happy to see the Night Guard. Why?"

"Well, without being able to read their minds, I'd have to guess it's because we were outsiders. They didn't trust us or want us there. We were just intruders who they rightly feared were going to make things worse."

"That's not why you were sent there."

"But why would they believe any reassurances we might've offered? Did the Guards who came before us help them at all? Did the ISND for that matter? Looking at the outcome now, I can't believe they were wrong. Sir."

"Hmm. I see. Continue on Prey."


---<>---


"A deer holt."

"Yes, holt is the name of a small deer tribe. They're nomadic."

"The clans have encountered deer before, we know what a holt is. But what was one doing in Mayflower?"

"They weren't. They were in the forest. Fallen Leaf offered to act as our guide."

Nighthawk narrowed his brows in consideration, "Where were they when we arrived?"

"Gone. Fled. They may even be dead for all I know." Prey said flatly. He didn't say the rest; 'And it's all your fault for not coming when you promised.'

"Unfortunate." Was all Nighthawk could say. Prey was sure the deer holt had thought so too.

'-they might've been able to provide us with valuable insight-'

"Continue with your recounting please Prey."


---<>---


Nighthawk held up a hoof to halt him. He examined Prey with a heavy gaze. Prey stared back, face empty.

"This meld wood... How and why? Please explain."

Prey played with the end of his ribbon dangling from behind his ear. The blue silk drew the eye as it twisted about distractedly. It was pleasant, calming, the sheen of light almost hypnotic to look at. 

"Well, as I've said before, a couple of zebra's used to pass through my village off and on, and they knew all about obscure plants and things within our local forest. Sometimes they hung around, and used to tell cautionary tales about the horrors of the forest. You know the sort, to impress the locals and awe the children. Meld wood was one such tale, about how if you so much as brushed up against it with an open cut, you'd be forever stuck to the tree."

Prey gave a wry quirk of his lips as he continued to twirl the silk ribbon, "I was a curious little lamb, or littler, and when I asked, they told me all about it in great detail, both what it looked like and what it did."

That explanation was not good enough for Nighthawk. He wanted accurate details, and Prey's words were not enough to convince him that was all there really was to it. It was all too convenient, real life did not work that way. Nighthawk opened his mouth to ask Prey to explain further as the lamb continued to play with that ribbon of his. But yet-

"Alright, carry on with your story."


---<>---


Starry Wing and Nighthawk were both staring hard at Prey. He'd just covered the night where they'd survived whatever-it-was that'd come out of the Wolfing Wood visiting. Or rather, he hadn't covered it. None of the others had given Nighthawk a straight answer about what had really happened either, and thus, the Captain and Lieutenant had been keen to finally hear what had taken place.

But Prey'd refused, saying only; "At the end of the night the fire was still burning, and in the morning, all the captured kindersnatches were gone."

That was more or less the extent of what Gloom and Scenic had said as well. Since Crimson had been unconscious that night, he hadn't been able to add anything more than speculation in his own retelling.

Starry Wing shifted, '-that story sends a chill up my wings, but the details could be so important-'

"Sir, if I might interject," Starry Wing spoke up, "I would like to ask Prey how he knew fire would work. And why didn't you think to bring the captured kindersnatch villagers into the firelight too?"

'-that sounds too much like an accusation-', Nighthawk thought, but looked to Prey and waited for his answer rather than reprimand Starry Wing.

"As you said. We just didn't think of it. We were so focused on trying to save Lilly Blossom and we were all so tired, it just didn't occur to me. We forgot, and twelve victims died."

Nighthawk and Starry Wing hadn't been there, they weren't the ones suffering, terrified, and on the brink of exhaustion. They couldn't say; 'If I was there I would've done such and such.' They couldn't judge and they both knew it. And Prey's retelling had given them both a sense of unknown, untold danger.

'-I can't put my hoof on it. It's just a retelling, but it feels like...-', Starry Wing broke that thought off with a shake of his head; "Everypony regrets once it is too late. As they say, hindsight is more often a curse than not. But making a fire, how did you know to suggest-?"

"It worked," Prey cut him off, "That is all I know, and all I'll say."

After Gloom and Scenic had both refused the same, the Captain and Lieutenant could hardly try to force Prey to speak of it either.


---<>---


And then, of course, they eventually came to Prey's creation of the Bone Rot mines, although he was careful never to actually name them as such.

Nighthawk had spoken true when he said this wasn't an interrogation, even if it had the hallmarks of one, but that was just an unfortunate appearance because of the nature of the questions Nighthawk was asking.

But when it got to this part of the tale, Nighthawk's grim face grew even grimmer.

Prey's hoof reached up for his ribbon, but he stopped half way. Scenic, Gloom, and Crimson had all already given an account of what he'd done, so trying to gloss over this bit wouldn't work, and might make them think he was callous and unrepentant. Or worse, trying to hide something. That wasn't something he could afford when they were already so worried about his capabilities. 'If they only knew what I else could do and have done with my runes...'

"You made magical acid traps." Nighthawk stated.

"I did." Prey said simply.

"You knew how to make them."

"That's right."

"And you could make more at any time."

"Yes, and no. Not without the ingredients and reageants I couldn't."

"But you could if you had the ingredients."

"Yes." Prey raised his head. He would not let them mistake him and think him ashamed. He had fought to survive.

'-those are weapons for killing, not defence. Stealth weapons. When it came down to it, Prey reached for his knowledge to kill, not disable. Why did he not hesitate?-', Nighthawk thought shrewdly. 

Once again Nighthawk was not horrified like any normal pony would've been, but he was still a pony. Thestrals may accept violence as a sometimes unavoidable necessity, but death and killing was still something to be avoided if at all possible.

Next to his Captain, Starry Wing couldn't help but think, '-acid traps that can kill a whole group of ponies in moments. It's horrible. I don't want to even think about what something like that in the wrong hooves could do-'

"And what made you think such weapons were appropriate to use Prey?" Nighthawk asked. He did not say it in an accusatory tone. Just a request to know the blunt facts.

"Sargent Gloom made the call. His words were; 'whatever it takes'. The warlock had to be stopped." Prey answered, keeping his gaze straight and not sneaking a glance at Crimson like he wanted to.

"I know it was Gloom's orders. But I want to know why you used them." Nighthawk repeated.

"The warlock wasn't going to refrain from killing us just because we'd return the favour. There's no such thing as collateral damage in those circumstances." Prey said unflinchingly.

"You felt it was your responsibility to make the call on using lethal force?" Nighthawk asked next.

There was no point repeating that it was Gloom who'd given the order, "I made my decision with the potential number of lives I might save in mind, not the number I might kill."

Prey'd been having an awful lot of these conversations with far reaching consequences in this hospital room. He felt there should've been some kind of evidence of that, something grim and stern about the room, not the colourful foal's mobile and motivational posters stuck on the walls instead. It felt deceptive when if he gave one wrong answer, it might have him thrown back into prison with no escape this time.

"Alright. You did what you felt you had to. I am neither agreeing or disagreeing, since I wasn't there. But who taught you how to make those acid traps?" Nighthawk asked seriously.

In the space of the breath Prey drew to answer, he weighed up the best thing to say. This was one of those times it would be best to outright lie. The 'mystical travelling zebras' weren't going to fly again. 

"My father did. Before he died."

Like Prey had predicted, he'd gotten a surprise, but instinctively, Nighthawk accepted that answer on a base level. In the clans, it was usually the fathers who taught their sons or daughters the way of the warrior. Not exclusively by any means, but it was more common than not, so it made sense to them. Still Nighthawk asked; "Your father taught this to you, a foal?"

Prey gave a small shrug, "I didn't think it was strange at the time. What child doesn't want to be just like their father when they grow up? Of course, by then, it was too late. And no, I don't know where my dad got the recipe from. And now I'll never get the chance to ask him."

"You do your father proud. I'm sure he'd tell you that if he were here." Nighthawk said gruffly.

Prey didn't say anything.

"And...What did your father do with this knowledge?"

"With these weapons, you mean?" Prey asked bluntly. He wasn't an idiot and Nighthawk knew that well enough.

"I'm not accusing your father of anything. I'm sure he had his reasons. But I want to know what he was doing hoofing out such dangerous knowledge to a foal." Nighthawk said unflinchingly. 

"My dad didn't teach anyone else if that's what you're asking," Prey affected a harsh snap in his tone and anger in his eyes, "He was trying to protect the family. My dad only wanted what was best for our family."

That lie burned on Prey's tongue, but it was necessary.

"We lived on the border, like the village of Mayflower we've just come from. You've seen it, you know what it's like living on the edge of the wilds. It's dangerous. Timberwolves and Lesser Basilisks are the least of your worries out there. We've no Guard force or rangers, we're not a warrior clan like you thestrals, we don't even have a militia. We haven't got weapons or armour, we can't even fly, so how else do you think we survive monsters? We fight monsters off our way, or we die! That's how."

"You're not in the wilds anymore." Starry Wing told him.

"Same to you. But you didn't stop being a warrior the moment you came to Equestria, did you?"

"You're right. I didn't consider how that would sound. I apologise Prey." Starry Wing dipped his head.

'-I don't like doing this, Prey is in the service of Her Majesty, but it can't go unaddressed-', Nighthawk thought. "Crimson, you were the only one to see the destruction these acid traps can reap. Is there any way you could say they are not a danger?"

Crimson stirred at being unexpectedly addressed, since he'd been informed this conversation was for Prey only. "No sir, I can't. I saw them melt through flesh and bone like water. If I'd been splashed, or been any slower..."

Prey's shoulders hunched at Crimson's shiver. Crimson was not meant to have been in the minefield.

"I'm not sure I could've gotten out alive if it weren't for my necklace sir. I don't blame Prey for that, he warned us against going in there. It was my fault I didn't listen, not yours." Crimson said, speaking that last bit directly to the Prey.

'-that's another unpleasantness I'm going to have to unfairly address-', Nighthawk thought, sounding unhappy.

"Prey, I'll be blunt," Nighthawk lent forwards and rapped a hoof on the floor to regain their attention, "This isn't something I like doing, but it's the law. You must realise Prey, that your knowledge now represents an active threat to public life."

"I haven't done anything-"

"Listen to what I have to say first," Nighthawk interrupted, "There is a law in Canterlot whereby ponies with the ability to pose a credible risk to pony life are placed on a watch list, with some exemptions. The higher the potential to cause loss of life, the more closely they are watched. Above a certain level, they are actively restricted."

Crimson looked like he strongly wanted to object, but Nighthawk beat him to it. "I know. How is this any different from any single pony in Canterlot who owns a sword? Well for a start, weapons are restricted unless you have a license, or are a Guard. But you are a Guard serving the crown, Prey. So why aren't you exempt? Unfortunately, it's because of the threat scale."

Nighthawk pointed at himself, "If I were to go mad with a wingblade, I would be a danger. I could easily kill multiple ponies. Perhaps multiple Guards even, if I were also in armour at the time."

Nighthawk said it heavily, without any pride in his prowess, merely stating the facts, "It's the same for any Guard really. The difference is; they're one pony, and the threat begins and ends with them. But these acid weapons? Not that you would, but you could rig multiple traps anywhere. You could commit mass murder before anypony could stop you, all without even being in the area."

"So what are these exemptions you mentioned?" Prey asked with an unpleasant look in his eyes.

It was Starry Wing who gave the explanation; "Usually ponies whose evaluation comes up clean, or are certified mages or magi, or who cannot be held responsible for the position they find themselves in are exempt. Like ponies whose special talent is pyromancy. They didn't choose to be a potential threat, that's just the gift Harmony granted them. Inherently powerful unicorns cannot be blamed for being born."

Nighthawk's thoughts added on, '-looked at that list. Princess Celetia's prodigies have always occupied a full exemption rank on the watch list. That pet baby dragon was on there too if I remember correctly-' 

Both Night Guard officers paused there, waiting to see how Prey would take this.

This shouldn't anger Prey, it really shouldn't. He was already a prisoner being tracked and monitored by Luna anyways, so what did some additional restrictions matter? Prey had already guessed that this exact situation might arise, since he hadn't ever expected anything better of ponies. As such, it shouldn't anger him. It shouldn't. But it still did.

"This is my thanks? When any single unicorn in the whole city could go out and learn lethal spells, and you're saying I'm the danger?"

"That's enough Prey." Nighthawk said.

Prey disparagingly waved his forelegs, showing off the gold tracer band still on them, "Wasn't one forced conscription and collaring good enough-?"

"I said, that's enough." Nighthawk repeated gruffly. 

Prey shut up, but not because of Nighthawk's command, but because he'd realised it was a pointless waste of his breath to argue. 

"I don't like this either Prey. It's not fair, or just. But it's the law. Being placed on the exceptions list is also out. For now. But maybe in the future..."

Prey didn't buy a word of it. 'In the future nothing. My plan hasn't changed, if I can find a way out of these tracers and away from Luna, I'm still going to escape and disappear before you can blink.'

Crimson's wings were clenched tightly to his sides, and he looked outraged, (or as outraged as Crimson visibly got anyway), on Prey's behalf. Nighthawk was drawing a line here; him and them, and Nighthawk was placing himself firmly on the 'them' side.

Nighthawk seemed to catch on to this for himself, and his frown deepened, "I hope you realise I don't want to do this, it's not my choice. You are Night Guards. You both deserve better."

'-this is the thanks Canterlot gives us for protecting them against the dark? Cowards, the lot of them-', Nighthawk thought. He took a breath and spoke on:

"There is a list of the restrictions and circumstances on you and places you are not allowed to go into, Prey. Starry Wing will bring you the paperwork for the waiver later. You don't have to sign it, in fact, don't. But you are expected to follow the rules listed there. Most of them won't matter to you since being in the Guard overrides them, but when you leave the Night Guard and go back to civilian life, you're going to have problems."

'When I leave the Night Guard?' Prey thought in surprise, and deep suspicion, 'Not if, but when? Does he honestly think Luna will ever let me go? There's no way that's ever going to happen. Luna is immortal, what does she care about those who age and die in her service?'

Except Prey wasn't going to age either. For now, it wasn't a problem, but if he still hadn't found a way to escape from the Night Guard in a few years time, people were going to start to notice.

'And at the current rate the ISND is hurled without a care into danger, I'm liable to be killed long before I have to worry about anyone noticing I don't age.' Prey thought, the knowledge of those odds doing nothing to comfort him.

"And me sir?" Crimson spoke up, voice surprisingly stiff, "Since I am now in possession of this necklace, does that make me a threat to civilian life too?"

"No idea," Nighthawk said bluntly, "I don't make the call, and I didn't make the one for Prey. It's up to Princess Luna."

There was a very subtle warning in Nighthawk's words: '-you've had it rough, and this isn't fair, but it's the law, and there's only so much insubordination I will tolerate-'

Crimson's teeth clacked together as he shut his mouth. There was a period of silence after that. Nighthawk and Starry Wing on their side, Prey and Crimson on theirs.

Starry Wing eventually cleared his throat, "We've gotten a bit side tracked with this unpleasantness. Nopony's questioning the contribution the ISND has made. Perhaps Prey could finish his retelling of events from his point of view?" The Lieutenant suggested, looking to the Captain.

"A good point. Continue on Prey."

The angry part of Prey wanted to refuse and sneer at Nighthawk, but he was far more sensible than that. He still was, and would be until the day he escaped, a prisoner. Prey only had as much slack in his chain as Nighthawk, either through inattention or willingness, could be persuaded to give him. Because at the end of the day, Prey still had a chain about his throat, with the other end going back to the foot of Luna's throne.

'Pride is for the strong. Surviving is all that matters.' But showing weakness was also a bad idea.

So Prey folded his hooves and waited until right before Nighthawk was about to repeat his order, just to prove his discontent, before re-continuing his story; "We fled through the forest towards the ravine, and unexpectedly, the Border Guard Shimmer was somehow still alive and there when we arrived. After that..."

Prey paused and cocked his head towards the door. A second later there came the muffled sound of rushing hooves. Whomever they were got halted by the Night Guard who'd been left outside to guard the door.

Nighthawk didn't even twitch at the sound of hurried and urgent voices outside, but Starry Wing frowned and reached for the door handle, "Report. What's this disturbance?"

The two Night Guard thestrals turned in the doorway. Prey was interested to see they both were armed with sheathed griffin claw boots on their hooves, whereas the Captain and the Lieutenant bore no such armament. 

"Sir," Both Night Guards came to attention in the doorway, and saluted to Nighthawk, "Private Lilly Blossom, she's just awoken."


---I---