When it came to identifying the new source of gossip, Fleur supposed it would have been possible to give her less to work with. Additionally, there were ways in which it could have been worse: in Ponyville, 'brown earth pony stallion' might have left her narrowing down possibilities for weeks. However, 'greenish fellow with odd teeth' wasn't exactly helping, especially when she was stuck at the cottage so much of the time and in the days between the Canterlot trip and Nightmare Night, that pony didn't exactly come to her.
Possibly a minor noble, one of the nine who were scattered throughout Ponyville. (She'd nearly asked Fluttershy who they were, then considered how much attention her charge likely paid to social rankings and gave up on the idea entirely. And Rarity probably had them all memorized -- but it meant dealing with that bitch.) But there were other options.
An entertainer, somepony whose services were in demand for the best parties? If so, he'd made his debut fairly recently, because Fleur had never intercepted him. Somepony who had just moved out of Ponyville, taking his tales to the capital? It was possible that she would never find the stallion, because it wasn't easy to inquire about a pony who might not even be there. Fluttershy hadn't been able to think of any possibilities: that meant he wasn't a client...
It frustrated Fleur, and continued to do so as the calendar continued its unforgiving march towards the holiday itself. But it never had the chance to become a full-time irritant, simply because there was so much else which stood ready to annoy her. The interruptions which were part and parcel of cottage life seemed to sense the approaching deadline, did everything they could to steal time away from Fleur's last-minute lessons about both the joys of moving incognito and the best ways to actually accomplish the feat: any instructions provided outside the examination room needed to work around a minimum of one giraffe. And they were spending a lot of time on the grounds now, because Nightmare Night was the season's tipping point: the moment when autumn began a relentless dip towards winter.
Fluttershy grew some of her own food (or rather, used the portion of the Cornucopia Effect which reached the cottage): that meant the last crops had to be harvested, and that had to happen before the first frost set in. Chicken coops were examined because winter was coming and the insulation needed to be checked. (Fleur was still waiting for a chance to do the same thing with her charge's bedroom, but Fluttershy had apparently decided that chickens had priority.) Some animals were preparing for hibernation, and the pegasus had to be sure their food supply was adequate...
From the outside, it mostly looked like a shapely yellow snout being carefully poked into holes in the ground, tree bark, and the occasional cliff. But there were a lot of holes and if Fleur wanted to have any chance at instructing Fluttershy in the basics before the holiday, she had to accompany her charge to every last one of them. Getting through it faster required participation, and the pegasus never asked how Fleur knew which scant surviving greens were suitable for gathering. The unicorn was becoming achingly familiar with every nut-producing tree on the property, and it hadn't taken long to recover her best chestnut-cracking hoof stomp: the key was to catch the shell between rock and keratin edge.
And then there was Fluttershy's social calendar, which had been making minor efforts to fill itself with refuse. Fleur was beginning to ask serious questions about the ecological systems which made up Ponyville's dating pool, because just about everything which had managed to float towards the cottage consisted of bottom-feeders: the remaining portion comprised what they generally would have been eating. Yes, there were ponies who wanted to date Fluttershy, who had worked up the courage (in one case, said courage had been purchased in liquid form) to make the approach -- but Fleur was sorting the catch, and she was still looking for something she didn't want to kick back or, more ideally, just keep kicking.
On some level, she recognized that she was being overly harsh. There were a few working-class citizens, along with tradesponies. Some created crafts, and others owned small businesses. In terms of financial support, it was almost enough. But there were other aspects to consider, such as that Tartarus-freed requirement for 'happiness' -- and then there was something else: an aspect which was going to make everything that much more difficult, if it didn't wind up crossing the border into impossible. Time spent on the grounds had allowed Fleur to recognize a basic truth, and that was something which had once again made her question the value of Honesty. Because there were ponies for whom the concept of dowries still existed -- and with Fluttershy, the idea had been reversed.
It was another chain tying her to Ponyville, something which had her picturing Celestia's oversized ribs shaking with silent mirth because the alicorn had just been waiting for the moment when Fleur figured it out. It was also something which was starting to make Canterlot into a necessity and even then, she'd need to get lucky on a scale which didn't reach dreams. Being that unrealistic was the province of the waking world.
(She was starting to make plans for Canterlot, looking at the city's social calendar while wondering just how much of it she could still access. But in a way, that unknown stallion had done her a favor: if there were capital residents who truly wanted to meet Fluttershy, then all Fleur might have to do in luring invitations was to use her charge as bait.)
Fluttershy needed somepony whom she would love. But she also needed that pony to be in love with her, because that was just about the only way her future spouse would put up with it.
Nopony who would be suitable, and Fleur also hadn't been able to claim a single visitor as a new friend: something which just let Sweetbark continue to operate within the peace which the fake vet in no way deserved. But there were lessons for Fluttershy, work to be done on the grounds -- and when that work pretended to finish, there was something new.
When Fleur looked back, gazing out across the past from the highest point of the bridge... it amazed her, just how quickly that became routine. To identify a moment without labor or crisis, one where the latter might not interrupt for five precious minutes. She would subtly signal her charge: a flick of the tail often sufficed. They would head into the sitting room, Fluttershy would climb onto the new couch, and...
It was just being practical. The daily labors demanded by the cottage could easily wear down anypony. Fluttershy needed to look and feel her best... and now that Fleur's trick was in the open, was there a reason not to perform it? Besides, by definition, a charge was somepony you needed to look after, because they couldn't take care of themselves -- or, in Fluttershy's case, never regarded self-care as a consideration until the clock showed ten minutes past too late.
Fluttershy on the couch, Fleur standing nearby, and a precisely-fitted corona bubble carefully directing vibration against tired muscles until the visible blue-green eye slowly closed and a soft sigh just barely wafted the air. Fleur would wait for that sigh, seeing it as confirmation that things would be better, at least for a little while. There was always more work to be done, forever another chance to hurt. But she had her trick, something for which there were two uses -- and Fluttershy was the only pony who deserved the first. The best.
Standing quietly. Standing guard, because that was what you were supposed to do with someone --
-- somepony --
-- who was under your charge. You looked after them, until the day they didn't need you any more.
Or until the day when you weren't there.
The days passed, and the temperature continued its slow, inexorable slide towards winter --
-- right up until the moment it reversed.
The Weather Bureau had a schedule, and there were things on it which Rainbow didn't sleep through: as Fluttershy had nervously explained it, rain and cold meant less ponies outside and without a constant parade of the costumed, who was the coordinator going to prank? So Nightmare Night would only have chill during the earliest part of the day. The evening air would have just a touch of crispness to it, enough for fur to offer insulation for those wearing the sheerest disguises. It would be a little windy, and the breezes would come from almost random directions: some ponies liked to put air-spun soundmakers on their roof, and you could never be quite sure where the next howl would come from. And there would be some degree of cloud cover, because Rainbow was in charge of things and a pony who liked to watch children run laughing from the sound of thunder wasn't going to be caught short on ammunition.
Deliveries also had a schedule, and Fleur had paid out enough of the palace's bits to ensure it would be honored.
"Thank you!" made up her final words to the deliverypony, and she watched a number of disgruntled pieces dim as they received a cold deluge of sheer reality. After all, she'd paid in advance, and so any fantasy which started with 'But I don't have any money...' (and inevitably led to the recipient offering another kind of coin) was going to stay in the nightscape where it belonged. "Fluttershy?" She heard hooves approaching from behind, stepped slightly aside from the open doorway as her talent automatically shut down again. "They're here. I'll unpack the crates." She carefully looked them over, spotted where some of the nails had just enough of their heads protruding for a field to get an initial grip. "We should have enough time to put them on before sunset."
"...you're sure?" Her charge was regarding the boxes, with the single visible eye hastily shifting its gaze across all five.
"If I help you with yours," Fleur clarified. "But this designer always includes instructions." She carefully worked the first lid off, and simulated wood reflected expert highlights under dipping Sun. The effect was slightly lessened by the sickly green glow which was coming from the right eye panel.
Fluttershy sighed.
"...timber wolf," she mournfully declared.
"Monsters are in this year," Fleur reminded her, because even disguises had trends and that was probably the reason the bitch stayed in her shop.
"...I wanted to be a tree."
Which was just an echo from the discussion they'd had during the measuring. "Trees don't move."
"...but nopony expects much from a tree," Fluttershy sadly stated. "Unless you're a farmer. Then you kick trees a lot. So maybe something which isn't a fruit tree. Or a nut tree. Or --"
"-- I think she was trying to get you as close as possible," Fleur interrupted. "At least it's something made of wood. Partially wood --" which was when a perfectly natural question arose. "-- can you talk to them? Timber wolves?"
The coral mane shifted in denial. "...no. Not when they're part plant. What did she make for you?"
That took two more crates.
"That works," Fleur decided, and did so before the stinger had fully unfolded. She'd allowed the designer a fair amount of free reign to be creative, and could easily appreciate the results. "But all of this articulation needs to be rigged properly, and you need to be disguised first: I won't be able to help you after my headpiece goes on, and the temporary's going to be here soon." Snowflake was surprisingly unavailable for the evening: Fleur's guess was that he just liked to nose over candy. Or, given some of what she'd seen him eating, silently offer a selection of stamina-building grasses to children who would discard the results from their saddlebags as soon as they were out of sight, clearing space for extra sugar. "Let's get started."
And then they were off the path, because Fluttershy had wanted to be anonymous. There wasn't going to be that much traffic coming in over the western bridge, and just having two traveling together under setting Sun -- well, realistically, that wasn't enough to make anypony think of her charge, especially with a mare who'd never really participated in the holiday. And to have her with somepony...
...but it was what Fluttershy had wanted, and the pegasus knew of multiple trails cutting between the main roads. It didn't hurt to accommodate her.
Besides, it wasn't as if they were going to sneak up on anypony.
"...this is weird," a somewhat roughened voice declared through the faint sounds of splintering. "Just -- moving. All these little creaks and cracks..."
Fleur turned to the left (and was glad to feel the headpiece smoothly shift with her), carefully examining the disguise again.
It was easy to see the expertise in the designer's creation, because the disguise had to almost look like a timber wolf -- and it also had to register as close-but-not-the-real-thing on a purely instinctive level, always doing so at the first casual glance. The fashion was for monsters, and so to parade through the settled zone as something fully accurate...
There would always be somepony who wouldn't question it. Somepony who would simply run. And if the scent of their fear spread through the herd, the holiday would be trampled under the mindless panic of the stampede.
So the bark of the outer skin was merely simulated, with fabric purposefully showing around the joints, and the colors were almost right. But the designer had still wanted to include some element of the true, and so the false wood made faint sounds as those joints shifted. Tiny splinters were fractured from the main mass with every step, dropped to the ground because wood had never been meant to move and so the real monster tended to leave a trail.
Even so, anypony looking at the disguise would see it as just that. But there was no clue as to the identity of the pony underneath. Every tenth-bit of Fluttershy's form had been covered, with a false jaw wire-rigged over the true to allow collection of tribute. Admittedly, somepony observing closely would see the cracks around the flyaway panels on the sides: that near-universal requirement meant species identification was easy. It was just about impossible to get a disguise for a pegasus and not have it include sections which would drop off when touched by desperate internal pressure, exposing the wings and allowing a chance at frantic retreat.
A careful observer would know there was a pegasus under the costume. But there was no fur visible, not a single feather exposed to the air, and the true tail was bound within the false. And as for the voice... certain minor mass-produced devices were readily available around the holiday, and so Fleur had the palace pay for a necklace: something which fit closely around Fluttershy's throat, with a thin disk directly over the voicebox. As enchantments went, it was almost pitifully weak: they would be lucky to get a few hours out of the original thaums -- but Fluttershy had wanted something which could be taken off, and the choker sufficed.
Outer appearance had been taken care of. The voice was altered.
"...and the world looks strange."
Sun got that much lower.
"...I think it's the glow," Fluttershy added. "Do you think timber wolves have trouble seeing through their own glow?"
There didn't seem to be anything Fleur could do about the hesitation.
"I'm not sure," Fleur admitted, because timber wolves weren't particularly edible and so --
-- not tonight.
"Maybe their eyes just don't see shades of green," the escort proposed. "So they could steer by their own light, but it wouldn't affect what they were seeing?"
"...maybe," Fluttershy considered. "Fleur?"
"What?"
A significant percentage of the journey took place.
"...are you going to be okay like that? With your horn covered?"
"We're staying anonymous." Fleur's horn was not only longer than the average, but the grooving was fairly distinctive. Given the tendency of those around her to pay careful attention to appearances --
With the kind of insistence which probably would have come from any other pegagus who was on the verge of having their wings covered, "...but it's your horn."
Fleur took a slow breath: carefully-adjusted thick rubber bands shifted the sides of the shell's false rib cage accordingly, and wings of stretched fabric bobbed against the air. "It's just for a night."
She wasn't exactly happy about it. No unicorn could project their field through a solid: it meant anything she might need to do had to work through the costume's mouth, and the delay that would create --
-- it's just for tonight.
It's staying in disguise together.
It's what she wanted in order to do this.
"And I remember how my mouth works," Fleur added. With just a touch of annoyance, "And I also know there's unicorns who don't. The ones who practically forget how to eat without their field. There's more than a few of those in the capital. They decide mandible dexterity is beneath them, and then they lose it. That's not me."
Silence for a while.
"...I like your disguise."
"The designer did a good job." Which was the outer way of stating that Fleur was fully satisfied with the results, and that was a rare state indeed.
"...but I'm not sure the tail is supposed to sway like that. With the stinger presented."
"Have you seen the females?" She knew Fluttershy had experience with the males.
"...no. He -- couldn't actually find anyone."
"The tail sways like that. So that's why the elastic is rigged to my hips. To let the tail sway like that."
"...and the chitin is that bright? I didn't think the fur was so silky..."
"It's the girls," Fleur declared with satisfaction. "Sexual dimorphism, that's all."
If I had to be a monster, I wanted to be something deadly.
"...if you say so. There's lots of other species which have that."
Fleur nodded. So did the shell's head.
"...but I'm pretty sure none of them brush their manes."
And if I'm going to be a manticore, then I'm going to be a pretty one.
Monsters paraded through the streets of Ponyville.
Admittedly, the quality of monster varied. To a degree, it was possible to estimate a disguised party's rough income and level of dedication just by examining the detail of their cover: those who had the bits to truly bask in the holiday would pay for tentacles which wriggled, and one Ursa Extremely Minor was covered in shining stars. The other end of the spectrum had ponies who head-tossed a fabric sheet over their bodies, poked out a few holes here and there, then declared they were ghosts and since nopony knew what those looked like, a pony wearing a sheet was it. The latter tended to go for larger shares of tribute. They also lost most of it as they trotted because saddlebags weren't part of the costume, and just tossing a sheet over your body at the last second because you couldn't be bothered with an actual disguise also didn't allow time for the construction of internal pockets.
But there were vine cats. Fleur spotted a swoopray, and those weren't even native to Equestria. They found a neurocypher near the library, and that required two ponies: one stood on top of the other, each tried to (poorly) operate three armored legs, and the lower pony's back was going to be extremely sore in the morning. Two zirolaks passed on their right, affectionately nudging talons...
"...it's strange," Fluttershy softly decided. "Knowing none of it's real."
"Ponies wearing monster skins," Fleur quietly replied. "That's all. It's nothing to be afraid of, when you know what's really underneath."
"...ponies wearing monster skins," her charge repeated.
The manticore nodded. The timber wolf hesitated.
"...it's worse when it's the other way around."
Fleur took a slow breath.
You would know that.
So did she.
"Yes." Back to looking around. If she was going to be collecting tribute (as opposed to having ponies bring it to her, which was considerably more efficient), then she intended to find the best. And there were other things to watch for on Nightmare Night, because an evening without identity could be falsely seen as one without responsibility: she had to be on guard for the true monsters, especially with Fluttershy at her side.
And then there was just trying to figure out who was out and about: it was easy with some of the ponies who weren't truly trying, but some of the disguises were rather good. Of course, Fleur had another option, at least for those whose puzzles she'd memorized, but -- Fluttershy was at her side.
I have to learn to ignore her slate. I have to be capable of using my talent when she's close by.
But that could mean hours of active magic in Fluttershy's presence. Of having to internally stare at -- white.
Not tonight. Tonight was for the holiday, and seeing who her charge could become when she wasn't trapped by her own skin.
"...yes. Um... that one. I think." The timber wolf hopefully looked up from the offering tray. "Unless you think that maybe I should take something else...?"
A bewildered middle-aged unicorn slowly shook her head.
"...okay. So -- this one. Thank you. Um. Thank you very much? Er... thanks ever so --"
Unlike many unicorns, Fleur remembered how her mouth worked. However, the taste which came from biting down on a simulated wood tail in order to drag her charge away was completely new.
"...did I do something wrong?" the timber wolf inquired as false claws skidded across cobblestone.
It was half a block before she could pull Fluttershy into a side alley for a private response, followed immediately by turning to look the costume directly in its glowing eyes. "You were being given something. Something which comes at no cost to you. And you keep going for the smallest items. The cheapest. For anything which comes in multiples, you're only taking one. Do you know how many ponies trot away from grapes with a single fruit off the bunch?"
"...but they already cost the hostess bits," was, as protests went, entirely expected. "Everything has a cost for somepony --"
"-- a cost which was already paid for," Fleur countered. "And what happens if she doesn't give them all out by the end of the night?"
"...she'll eat them herself? Because grapes don't keep, so she'd have to eat them pretty quickly. Plus grape season is just about over, so she'd want to enjoy them while she still could." The timber wolf thoughtfully paused. "Unless she has access to a greenhouse. But she's a unicorn, and most unicorns --"
Fleur managed to keep most of the groan within the costume: the only external sign was having the false wings move in a pattern of pure frustration. "-- Fluttershy."
Her charge stopped.
Meekly, "...yes?"
"The point," Fleur patiently stated, "is that when somepony tries to give you something, you let them. When they want to buy a gift, you should generally accept it." Come to think of it, the fact that Caramel's couch hadn't gone back to that inexplicable shop might qualify as something of a small miracle -- except that Fleur had a very good idea of just how Fluttershy dealt with making returns: i.e. by not dealing with it at all. "And when you get access to a menu with somepony else paying for the meal, you shouldn't automatically choose the cheapest thing on it."
There was a moment when she wasn't sure if having Fluttershy immediately identify what Fleur had been thinking of was a good sign. "...but he'd already spent so much --"
"--and he'd budgeted what he was going to spend for the night." To whatever extent Caramel was actually capable of that. "He wanted to impress you. He would have had the bits set aside for something more expensive. You're allowed to enjoy yourself, and getting the most out of a date means using the opportunity to do things you wouldn't try normally."
The timber wolf thought about that.
"...things," the false monster said, "...I wouldn't try normally." The false tail twitched.
"Yes."
"...right," her charge thoughtfully added. "We should keep going. There's a lot of houses, and there aren't that many hours before the cold comes back. I want to see some more of the costumes."
The manticore nodded, and they set off again.
"This is really your first time out?" Fleur checked. "Ever? I thought they celebrated in --" she doesn't know I found out where she was raised "-- the cloud cities."
"...it's the first I can remember," Fluttershy thoughtfully replied. "My parents told me that we used to go out when I was a foal, but I really didn't understand what anything was about. So I just cried when I saw the costumes, and they took me home early. But they weren't around for a lot of Nightmare Nights, because that's still in hurricane season. It meant they were out of the country on most of them."
Fleur blinked. She's talking...
Part of the reason for the outing had been to discover who her charge was when everything about Fluttershy's physical form had been hidden. The early answer was 'somepony who's a lot more willing to communicate.'
"Your parents travel? For hurricanes?" Fleur already knew, but --
"-- they're stormbreakers. Part of the international team, the ones who help outside the borders. And globally... there's a lot of storms." The timber wolf sighed. "In the winter, it was blizzards. It was a good year if they were home half the time. Spring was supposed to be the best, but spring in Equestria is fall in the southern hemisphere, so they're getting those storms and..." The wood and fabric shell dipped. "Half was about the most I could hope for. But there's family in Stratuston, so -- I stayed with my aunt and uncle a lot, on my father's side. Until I was old enough to take care of myself. And then there was Zephyr --"
Fleur couldn't move. Frozen to the spot, mired in the flow of words.
"-- my... brother," the false wolf continued. "I... he..."
It was just possible, while staring directly at the glowing green, to see the shadow of a closing eye.
"...it doesn't matter," Fluttershy softly stated. "Not for that. But it kept us with them, because he was too young for me to look after. Sometimes when we were both older, I'd stay at home and he'd go there. We -- didn't really do anything together. But our parents loved us, and they tried to be home. It was just... hard. Waiting for them all the time, when they're stormbreakers and they only get sent out for the worst systems."
"High-risk profession," Fleur quietly said.
"...yes. But... it's their mark, both of them. Their magic is for dealing with it. So they came home. But you always think... one wind gust they don't feel coming in time, one ion charge they didn't disperse, and..."
Wood shuddered. Splinters fractured at the fringe of the eye panels, with the smallest fragments drifting on the wind.
"...you wait," Fluttershy finished. "When you're a foal, that's all you can do. And praying to Sun and Moon to let them come home was just... waiting with words. But it's not much different, being grown up. I just... don't know when they've been dispatched, most of the time. So I don't know when to worry. And I keep waiting -- for somepony I've never met to come up the path, moving too slowly, and then I'll just -- know..."
The false ribs heaved, just once. Steadied.
"I'm sorry." And Fleur meant it. "You shouldn't be talking about this. Not tonight." It was threatening to ruin the evening, might have already done so, and if anypony should have understood about dealing with a job where someone might not be coming back --
"...you -- have to know."
Fleur's blink was completely hidden. The rigged false tail, however, echoed an opposing twitch.
"...because it's part of me," Fluttershy told her. "It's something that'll never go away, not until they retire, and that's years from now. It's... something anypony who might stay has to deal with. A pony who would love me... they would know. So it's part of sorting the catch, to tell those ponies about my family, and see how they react. And..."
The sigh was barely audible.
"...it's the one way where I'm really like them, isn't it? Because something bad happens somewhere, something nopony was expecting or could control. And then we all go out, and... everypony waits to see if we come home." And before Fleur could even begin to react, "Maybe some of them even wait with words. But I don't think Sun and Moon hear anything, not really. Not from us. Just the sisters. And even then, they don't act. Maybe they can't. Maybe they never could..."
She stopped. The wolf's head came up.
"...so now you know," Fluttershy said. "...I'm sorry if it -- ruined the night."
"It didn't." She almost had to force the words: the shock wasn't fading, and too much of it had grounded itself in her jaw. "You're right. It's better if I know."
Wood nodded.
"...what about your family?" emerged as honest curiosity. "What do they do?"
It was automatic. She failed to reach for the usual method of delivery, something which had been crafted to make any truth impossible to backtrack. It could be argued that she wasn't even hearing what she was truly saying, and the words were delivered with the cadance of a joke which had been told so many times as to lose all humor for the comedian alone.
"They're in soil enhancement."
The wolf's head quizzically tilted to the right. "...your parents are both earth ponies?"
"No, they're anti-poets," Fleur said on rhythm.
"...I don't --"
She let the false mirth flow in. "They're decomposing."
The timber wolf pulled back, and it was that first instinctive movement which finally sent Fleur's words into her own ears --
no
no no no
-- but it was followed by the second movement.
A wood-covered forehoof shifted forward. Then another leg moved, and another...
...the left forehoof was touching the right leg of Fleur's costume. Just barely, so that none of the faint vibration within the manticore reached the wood at all.
"...I'm sorry."
She won't talk.
She doesn't talk...
Her body was completely hidden. It gave her a sort of freedom, along with the ability to compose herself while in full view. Constantly watched, with nopony seeing anything at all.
It was a way to live.
It was a way to continue living.
"You didn't know," Fleur finally (too long, only a few seconds and far too long) said. "You don't need to apologize for something you couldn't have known."
"...I'm sorry that it happened," Fluttershy softly countered. "For what it means to you. For making you think about it on a holiday..."
The manticore silently shrugged.
"It's been a while." Truth, just enough of the truth to escape and then we can just go. "It -- doesn't have the same impact any more."
Which was a different kind of lie. Pain never faded, and sounds which had stopped were silenced forever. You just learned how to forge that pain, and then all of the impact could be delivered to another.
"...both of them? At the same time?" Gently, "One of my friends lost her parents that way."
Something Fleur couldn't even wish upon Rarity.
I have to get her off this topic. But there was no way to just dismiss the question...
"I don't know."
The blink was audible. "You don't know --"
In a costume. Wrapped within a mobile shield. Protected.
"-- my mother died years ago," Fleur placidly told her charge. "And my father left her long before that. So he's either dead or didn't care enough to come back when he heard she'd died."
I hope he died.
"And if that's the case," the manticore calmly finished, "I don't care what happened to him." (The covered foreleg was still touching that which wasn't her, pressing a little harder, almost indenting the fur within.) "So as far as I'm concerned, he's dead either way." Solidly, with the needed infusion of domination, "Fluttershy, this night is for --"
nightmares
"-- going out on the town. And as you already said, there's only so much night to work with, so I think we should get back to that." More lightly, "Because right now, there are ponies beating us to the best tribute. I really want to reach the candy store before all of their samples are nosed over." Besides, after what had just happened, Fleur was fully entitled to one piece of quality chocolate, and she wanted to retain some chance of not paying for it. (Admittedly, there was still a possibility of having somepony gift her based on her current outer appearance alone, but that was a grouping of pieces she really didn't need to be dealing with.)
And slowly, sliding down the manticore's false skin, breaking contact just before it reached the cobblestones, the wolf's leg withdrew.
"...all right."
Monsters were parading down the street, moving fully in the open. They took their tribute from those whose offerings had been birthed in the echoes of ancient terror. And in time, they would bring some of what they had gathered as a sacrifice to nightmare, because there were things which even monsters feared. Trying to stave off something which had happened anyway. And still they brought their tribute, because they thought there was a chance to keep it from happening again...
It was a holiday.
It was a perfect reflection of the world.