//------------------------------// // Rootkit // Story: How the Tantabus Parses Sleep // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// The insurance rates in Ponyville must’ve been insane. Every time some big bad guy popped up in Equestria, he always seemed to go for Ponyville, even if ninety-five percent of the time it was because Ponyville was where Twilight and her friends were. Then there were the monster attacks, the general shenanigans of Twilight and others in her social circle, and the issues that popped up with technically being a college town in a way. Some days, it seemed like simply living in Ponyville shortened your life expectancy by a decade. And now, there was mind control. Did insurance cover mind control? What sort of insurance covered mind control? Moondog scraped another blob of Sombra’s dark magic off of one of the thoughts in Mrs. Cake’s dream. “Oh, Mom,” she said, putting a hoof to her nose, “this is worse than the last one.” Cringing, she poked around inside with her magic. What was left were a few residuals of Sombra’s urge to conquer Canterlot. So, to cancel it out… settleDream(MOOD.Vacation); settleDreamSetting(canterlot, false); Mrs. Cake’s drive to work for somepony was hit with a relaxing trip for herself. The work being in Canterlot was suplexed by everywhere except Canterlot. Her mind settled on a tour of a backlot in Applewood. Moondog wasn’t sure why, but Mrs. Cake was enthralled, so she didn’t care. As the blob of magic absorbed thoughts contrary to the nature of its existence, it rapidly evaporated. Moondog chucked it away from herself; it was gone before it’d flown ten feet. After Sombra’s attempted takeover, Mom had enlisted Moondog to help with scrubbing the arcane remnants of his mental magic. “While such pustules will naturally degrade over time,” Mom had said, “removing them early will also rid the victim of any lingering urges of his and give them a sounder, healthier mind. They appear in dreams, so stay aware.” The good thing about mind-control magic? It didn’t fight back. Moondog could poke and prod it all she wanted until she found something that worked well in destroying it. For small globs like this, it was dreams that were antithetical to whatever commands were in the magic. Stories about strong-willed ponies resisting mind control weren’t just stories; the more they resisted and acted contrary to the magic, the more magic was needed to keep their wills suppressed. As these particular bits of magic weren’t being reinforced in any way (Moondog could still feel where the link with Sombra was supposed to be), they could be exhausted of their magic and disposed of in less than a minute, max. The bad thing about mind-control magic? It was absolutely disgusting, on both moral and metaphysical levels. Moral because, dude, mind control. Metaphysically, it was (in laymare’s terms) like walking through a briar patch; it dug its thorns in, hurt, and did its darndest to stick to you. It even had a special, unique feeling of off-ness that made Moondog’s skin crawl and gave her insides an urge to vacate the premises. But after Cozy Glow’s magic drain, Moondog was used to working in unpleasant situations. This one wasn’t nearly as bad as that one. And besides, since Mom and Aunt Celly had just decided they were abdicating, Moondog needed to get even more used to it. Soon, maintaining dreams would be her responsibility and hers alone. No pressure or anything. Moondog combed over the dream again, in case she’d missed any magic. “I wonder if I could’ve helped,” she said to herself. “Did the ponies black out while under Sombra’s control, or… were they…” Moondog shivered. “Yeegh, I made myself scared. But if they were unconscious, could I have helped everypony, or would I have only been able to keep Sombra out of one pony’s head? Depends on how the mind control works, I guess. I could ask Mom, but she’d probably be all-” Her voice shifted to Mom’s. “‘And what makes you think I know mind control?’ And she’d have a point, so I’d be all, ‘Whup, wasn’t thinking, sorry.’ And I’d look like a right dummy.” A long pause. “Twilight would learn mind control just to test it, wouldn’t she? Hmm. …And Starlight already knows it… No, no violating ethics just to perform some science. Not until you’re a princess and can make it legal, anyway.” The combing didn’t take long. When it came to mind-control magic, Mrs. Cake’s dream was as clean as a whistle, whatever that meant. Moondog grinned and slapped her hooves together. “Hah! Easy. I should let Mom know some of these techniques. Assuming she doesn’t know them already. Which she probably does.” dreamer.markAsClean(); ponyvillians.getNext(); The air unrolled into a scroll, bearing a list of names: Moondog’s half of the Ponyville residents. A quill twisted from nothing and scratched out Mrs. Cake’s name, right at the bottom. “Not even 3 AM and I’m already done. Poifect.” Every resident of Ponyville (that Moondog was responsible for) had been looked over and cleaned. Moondog lounged on nothing, clicking her tongue as she looked at the list. “You know,” she said, “I bet the students of the School of Friendship are freaking out about their town getting taken over by a once-dead dark lord. …Yeah. I’ll get their nightmares next.” The letters rearranged themselves into a list of School of Friendship students. psfStudents.getNext(); return: "Yona" “Huh. Yona? How the booger is this list sorted?” Moondog frowned at the list as the quill circled Yona’s name, then waved everything away into dust. “Well, if she’s first, she’s first.” She pulled open a portal in dreamspace and walked on through. It being the summer break, few of the students at the Ponyville School of Friendship (Twilight was adamant it not get called PSF, for some reason) had been around for Sombra to hijack, and the few that had been were Ponyville residents, and so already got their minds scrubbed. But Moondog was willing to bet that the trauma of seeing the town where they went to school get mind-controlled was still kind of a big deal, so she might as well boop over to their minds to give them healthy dreams of something like eating a pool filled with marshmallows. And she was starting with Yona. Yona was falling. How disappointingly typical. The environment made of candy switched things up a little, but still. Easily fixed. Moondog vaguely poked at physics and pulled in the right place. dreamer.setGravity(0); --NameError; spell not defined for object 'dreamer' Wait, what? But- That wasn’t- Maybe- dreamer.getClass().getName(); return: "List" There were multiple dreamers? That just didn’t happen naturally. Moondog would’ve taken the time to think about it more, but Yona was still falling. Maybe- dreamer["Yona"].setGravity(0); dreamer["Yona"].setVelocity(0, 0, 0); Success! Yona came to a stop only a few feet above the ground. After a brief moment of shock, she cautiously put her feet on the ground. Only for Silverstream and Ocellus — the actual Silverstream and Ocellus — to walk up to her. Hovering just out of phase above them, Moondog looked around. There was Smolder, there was Gallus, there was Sandbar. The real deals, all of them sharing the same dream, apparently naturally. Moondog skimmed the contents of their dreams. All things closely related to their worst fears, all things that they tackled easily with the help of their friends. It would’ve been a shared nightmare, except that it was vanquished as easily as sneezing. “Alright,” Moondog whispered. “What’s going on here?” But before Moondog could do anything, the dream flexed, so blatantly that even the students felt it. Everynonpony and Sandbar turned to see… a sparkly version of Twilight? Huh. Moondog delicately probed its magic- That was NOT Twilight. Moondog cringed back at the sheer amount of power in the… whatever. It wasn’t the least bit malevolent, but Moondog didn’t want to be near it for the same reason ponies didn’t want to be near avalanches. Its mere presence was causing the students’ nightmares (not through any fault of its own, mind). It was the kind of thing whose attention you attracted only if you were very stupid. Naturally, the students started talking to it, unaware of the possible danger. Moondog thought fast. Maybe, if she could divert the thing’s attention- getDreamer("Unknown"); return: -- dreamer[name] = "Messenger of Tree of Harmony" -- dreamer[desc] = SPECIES.Tree, ╥åÐя•ËñØ¡�ÆпЛ§ŽÙ --Error; WaitWhatException e -- dreamer[desc] = SPECIES.Tree --Error; AreYouSeriousException e -- dreamer[desc] = SPECIES.Tree, SEX.Genderless, COAT_COLOR.Crystalline_Blue, [...] -- dreamer[interests] = "harmony", "protection", "growth", [...] -- [...] try { self.talkWith(treeOfHarmonyMessenger); } catch (IMeanReallyWhatTheDeuceException e) { e.ignore(); } And, of course, the students chose that moment to wake up, leaving Moondog reeling back in the collective unconscious and not talking to the super-powerful tree what the friggernaffy. Moondog stared at the spot where Yona’s dream was supposed to be. Or maybe Silverstream’s. Gallus’s? She’d never been kicked out of a shared dream before. The last impressions of feeling she had weren’t of shock or fear. They were more… mild surprise, which they’d been feeling ever since not-Twilight had shown up. They hadn’t woken up because of the dream’s content; they’d artificially woken up, like they’d been stuck with a metaphysical pin. By a tree(!). “Alright,” Moondog muttered, flexing her wings, “better keep a close eye on these guys, just in case things go sideways for them.” With something that powerful, it always paid to be careful. Even if the “something” was a tree(?). She looked at the lack of dream for another moment, then pulled out her students list again. “So who’s next?” To Moondog’s relieved surprise, those six students weren’t the least bit traumatized by their interaction with the tree(!!). In fact, they seemed uplifted, happier. And not even because of any mental magic, but completely naturally. The kind of bubbly feeling most ponies and nonponies got after spending a day with their friends. Which was probably attributable to the six of them being friends and spending a day with each other, but still. It meant the tree(?!) endangering them was the last thing on their minds. So what the hay was up with that first night? Moondog knew she shouldn’t worry. Moondog knew the tree(!?) didn’t mean any harm. Moondog knew the tree’s meddling probably wouldn’t cause any damage to the students’ psyches. But if the tree was going to cause nightmares like that, even unintentionally, she needed to do something about it. Hopefully a disappointed tsk and a little informational speech would do the trick. She just needed to know what that… thing was so she could find it again. Identifying a superpowerful being of unknown origin based solely on an impression gleaned over a few seconds at a distance. Moondog could uncover the mystery person through that alone, right? “You mean the Tree of Harmony?” said Smolder. Talking to people was so easy. “It’s where the Elements of Harmony come from.” Smolder took another sip of tea. “Because when I think ‘all-powerful friendship laser batteries’, I think ‘edible tree’. Although I guess it’d be ‘edible treehouse’, now.” Understanding them? Not so much. “It’s helped me and my friends in the past, so I guess we have some kinda weird connection to it now or something, I dunno.” Smolder shrugged, wrinkling the ruff of her dress. “Magic schmagic stuff, y’know?” “Yes. I certainly know.” “And Sombra destroyed it like a week ago, so it called out to me and my friends for help, we argued a little about the best way to help, and then it turned into a treehouse. No, I don’t get it either. Cool place, though, even if Silverstream doesn’t want me to taste it. I wasn’t gonna break anything! Just lick the walls. What is it with harmony and crystals, anyway? Do the powers that be want dragons to eat harmony? Next thing you know, us dragons’re gonna find something that embodies wrath, only it’s gonna be a chocolate eclair and all the artifacts of wrath it spawns are gonna be twinkies.” “In Equestria, that’s practically a given.” “I guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever,” Smolder said, rubbing her chin. “Getting supreme magic powers by eating mini cakes…” It really was a tree. What the booger. At least Moondog had a path to follow. And if the Tree(‽) really did have a connection to the students, then getting its attention (and hopefully not getting metaphysically squished in the process) required nothing more than finding that connection and following it. Considering making good dreams required all sorts of following psychological connections, Moondog was quite good at that. Smolder got to her feet and walked over to look Moondog in the eye. “Why’d you want to know the Tree of Harmony anyway, Torch? You’re not even Dragonlord anymore.” Moondog set his teacup, not much more than a speck of dust in Torch’s tremendous talons, back on the table on his snout. “No reason,” he rumbled as he straightened his bowtie. After a moment, Smolder nodded. “Seems legit.” As helpful as she was, Smolder’s mind was a bit too temperamental for the sort of connection Moondog wanted. Maybe she just had a dragon’s fiery personality, but her mind couldn’t sit still for very long. Moondog needed a calmer — or at least more consistent — mind to make any links with the Tree easier. She didn’t want contact with one of Equestria’s most powerful beings to be interrupted just because the dreamer she was using suddenly started thinking about cats at the wrong moment. So: of the six students (five if you didn’t count Smolder), which one of them was most likely to get fixated on a single idea, preferably one they liked, if you dropped it in front of them, to the point of near-exclusion of just about everything else? Silverstream squealed with glee as she slid down the banister of the endless spiral staircase, the Trottler Effect turning her into a siren. “-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-!” MOV $md, PCR MOV $md, PBT MOV $md, PAV Moondog did her best to ignore her, instead sifting through her subconscious, trying to find any possible link to the Tree of Harmony. Telepathy was weird like that. There might or might not be any node between either end of the connection. For all Moondog knew, the Tree might actually be powerful enough to contact the students spontaneously. But until she’d gone over everything with a fine-probed arcanometer (twice), Moondog wasn’t going to give up. Acceleration finally overtook Silverstream’s grip and she rolled off the banister and right into Moondog. Right through Moondog, to be precise, as the latter puffed into smoke as Silverstream hit her. Her probing experienced no disruption and Silverstream kept rolling, coming to a stop on her back. “Woo!” Silverstream screamed from the floor, thrusting her fists into the air. “Fourth! Best! Stairs! Ever! Yeah!” She twirled back onto her feet and hopskipped over to Moondog. “Hi!” she (literally) chirped. “Whatcha up to?” dreamer.getLucidity(); return: FALSE; setAudacityLevel(11); “Jury-rigging your mind to telepathically connect to the Tree of Harmony,” Moondog replied. “I’ve got some questions I want to ask it.” “Huh. Neat.” Moondog kept fiddling with Silverstream’s unconscious as much as she dared. Regardless of how much she wanted to talk to the Tree, there was no way in Tartarus she was going to risk anybody’s mind for that. Even if that meant discarding her search for the Tree entirely, Moondog would never hurt an- There was the link — more of an imprint, really, left over from a real link — right in a primal part of the mind. What was the point in making dramatic vows if you never had to hold yourself to them? “So… you look kinda spaced out…” Silverstream waved a claw in front of Moondog’s face. “Should I come back later, or…?” “Yeah, I need a few.” Moondog waved vaguely at the staircase. “A few what?” “You know. A few.” “Oooooh. Gotcha. See ya later!” Silverstream hopped on the railing again and her sliding quest recommenced. Part of Moondog wanted to send a small glob of power down the link to get the Tree’s attention. That part was wrestled into submission by the larger, saner rest of her, which knew she might as well just stab the Tree in the eye with a knitting needle (assuming the Tree was the kind of… entity that had eyes that were sensitive and physical and just as vulnerable to knitting needles as ponies’). Even if the Tree was willing to forgive that, sweet Aunt Celly you don’t stab people in the eyes with knitting needles. Instead, Moondog composed a brief message: SpellMessage sm = new SpellMessage(); sm.compose(); Tree of Harmony, Could we talk? It'd be nice if you could contact ponies without scaring any pants they may or may not be wearing off them. Maybe I can help. A concerned dreamwalker sm.send(treeOfHarmony); And now Moondog just had to wait for a reply. It couldn’t be that hard, right? The Tree would get the letter and respond quickly. If not, well. She could be patient. Within a few minutes, she’d eaten her tail off, put it back on, eaten it again as a different species, repeated those after adding some garnish to make it taste better, played buckball with her head, wondered what ethereal gravity-defying bedhead looked like on Mom or Aunt Celly, and redesigned the dream from top to bottom three times. How could ponies stand waiting for letters? It took so long. And maybe doing this when she was needed most was kind of a bad idea. What was she supposed to say to Mom? Yeah, sorry I didn’t do much work last night, I was sending letters to the Elements of Harmony’s mom. (And was that even the right possessive?) “I think I done goofed,” she said to Silverstream. “-EEEEEEEMAYBEYOUDIDEEE-!” “Maybe the Tree needs a knitting needle in the eye,” Moondog muttered. It’d certainly get the thing’s attention. Deep breath. “One more minute.” She rolled onto her back and stared up. A few moments later, she felt it. The nagging knowledge that she was being watched. The dream twitched, like something was pressing in from the outside. Something big. Moondog was on her hooves in an instant. The dream would probably fall to pieces without her help. She reached out with her magic, patching up the dream where she could, rebuilding it where she couldn’t. Hallways extended and widened, ceilings soared, stairs started moving. Nothing was trying to break the dream, but then, an avalanche didn’t “try” to break anything, either. The flexing stopped and the dream settled, still mostly pleasant. But now there was someone standing in front of Moondog: a not-exactly alicorn, almost twice as tall as she was, with a young face and gnarled, barklike skin that made it look old. Its mane was the fronds of a weeping willow, its wings and feathers branches and leaves. Light glinted off it like it was covered in morning dew (or perhaps the light came from within). It turned its eyes — one sky-blue, the other bright viridian — towards Moondog, and it was all she could do to not flee the dream entirely. It radiated power like the sun radiated light, to the point of nearly making the dream around it nearly impossible to change. Even knowing that the figure wasn’t hostile didn’t make it less terrifying. It inclined its head. “Hello,” said the Tree of Harmony. gulp(); “Escalators escalators escalators!” squealed Silverstream. “Um. Hiiiiiii.” Moondog jerked her hoof back and forth in what was supposed to be a wave. If she’d been physical, her throat would’ve been dry. As it was, a lot of automatic protective spells were trying to get her away and into more familiar territory. “I hope you’re not busy, I just want to talk, you don’t need to get upset or worried…” By what? It could probably squish me flat in an instant! “I’m-” “Moondog the Tantabus, magically-created child of Princess Luna of the Moon.” The Tree smiled. “I do my best to keep up on current events, you know.” Moondog took a step back and rubbed at the base of her horn. “Whoof,” she muttered. “So that’s what I feel like.” She cleared her throat and spoke up. “And, uh, you are?” The Tree’s smile slipped a little. “I think you know perfectly well who I am. Why do you ask?” “Um. Habit.” gulp(); fileQuestion("Can I get rid of these biological reflexes? I don't know how ponies stand them."); “But, well, are you seriously a TREE?!” Said Tree didn’t miss a beat. “Asked the self-aware, self-perpetuating blob of mental magic.” Moondog raised a hoof declaratively, paused, and lowered it. “Oh, snappeth,” she muttered. But she smiled a little. “And, in essence, yes. I am a tree. The Tree of Harmony.” The Tree(!!!) spread its wings, shedding emerald sparks. “I was birthed from the combined magic and will of the Pillars of Equestria to protect this land in their absence.” “I was birthed from my mom’s selective laziness, so I kinda think you have me beat there.” “In spite of my strength,” said the Tree, tilting its head, “it took me over a millennium to simply be aware of myself, which you managed in a mere moon. It is there that you have me beat.” “I guess we’re-” --Error; OffTrackException e “Never mind.” Moondog took a deep breath. “So. Um. Like I said, are you, uh, gonna give those six students nightmares whenever you visit them, like you did three nights ago? Or just now? ’Cause, uh, that’s kind of a bummer for them, you know?” self.smile(MOOD.Nervous); The Tree folded its wings and looked contemplatively at Silverstream (“I’m walking up the down escalator! Somebody stop meeeeeeee!”). Eventually, it said, “It is also the best I can do. My first contact with them had them facing their fears. It was… how I knew them. How I first found them. That connection persisted, in spite of its undesirable location.” At what point did contradicting someone turn to “mouthing off”? After a long time, Moondog hoped. “Right. But, uh, even if you found them through their fears, did, did you need to talk to them through them?” The Tree’s ears twitched slightly back and it folded its wings tightly. “In my defense,” it declared, not quite meeting Moondog’s eye, “I was dead.” “Very true. That would throw off anyone’s game,” Moondog conceded. “So. Um.” Her tail twitched. “I guess you’re just… kinda…” She gestured vaguely. “…new at this?” “Quite.” The Tree’s wings twitched. “Directly untangling the minds of other beings is, I fear, not one of my stronger suits, and I doubt it ever shall be. Even shaping myself to the point that we are mutually comprehensible is an effort.” Moondog opened her mouth, caught herself before she could say anything stupid, thought it over, and said, “I can help with that. Maybe. The first part, at least. I mean, working with people’s minds is kinda my thing, so-” She shrugged to cover up the way her mind was racing. What was she doing, thinking she could teach the Tree of Harmony anything? Maybe there was a reason the Tree had taken on Twilight’s form earlier; the hopeful eagerness on its face had the same dorky quality. (Or maybe its mannerisms were based on Twilight’s because hers was the first form it took. Who could tell with beings like this?) “If you could, that would be wonderful. It would do me good to more closely understand those I protect.” “Plus, if you ever want to talk to somebody in their dreams, you can do it without scaring the snot out of them.” The Tree chuckled. “That would be nice, yes. So, what would you suggest?” “Well, first you-” --Error; NullPointerException e “…bduh. Um.” Moondog’s ears twitched. “Okay, uh, dreams being my thing means that teaching isn’t my thing, so, um, bear with me for a second, okay?” “Very well.” Moondog stared at the floor as she paced a circle. (Pacing in front of the source of the Elements of Harmony. Yeah, that was gonna do wonders for her reputation.) What was she thinking, offering to help like that? She barely knew the specifics of how pony minds interacted with each other, let alone someone like the Tree. Entering dreams was so second-nature to her that, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure she could do anything to help the Tree; it would be like a pony trying to help another creature breath. And all this brainstorming wasn’t helped by the power still radiating from- “Okay. Um.” Moondog cleared her throat. “First of all, do, do you think you could… not enter the dream with so much power? I mean… you’re… kinda affecting it just by existing.” She pointed at the Tree’s hooves. “Hmm?” The Tree looked down. Images of Silverstream’s friends twisted together on the floor wherever it stood. “Ah. I suppose I can try.” It was like a switch had been flipped. The magic that the Tree had been exuding didn’t stop, not completely, but now it was far closer to Mom than a bottomless wellspring of arcane energy. The Tree’s image flickered and shrank a little and it hiccuped. “Like this?” it asked. Moondog poked at the pictures on the floor. They vanished with barely any effort. “Yeah! Yeah, just like that.” Moondog nodded. “See, I think that, since you know them by the bits of their mind that are related to their fears, if you enter their dreams with too much power, you stimulate those bits, and boom! Nightmares.” Huh. That almost sounded logical. The Tree examined a hoof and flexed its body. “Yes, that does make sense.” “And, uh, while you’re here, I might as well teach you about different parts of the mind. Just in case, you know?” “While that sounds like an excellent idea, I worry about our… host. She won’t be harmed, will she?” They both looked at Silverstream. “Escalator slinkies escalator slinkies escalator slinkies!” squealed Silverstream. “Nah, she’ll be fine,” said Moondog. “Just don’t touch anything.” After a bit of hesitation, she reached out, took the Tree’s hoof, and pulled back the dream to expose the subconscious underneath. dreamer.viewSource(); Sensation overtook perception as the pair dove upwards through memory and thought. A rush of emotions whirled around them and they flitted across the tide effortlessly. They soared beneath urges, pirouetted over desires, slammed through phobias. With every turn, every loop, Moondog pointed out what was what, guiding the Tree through the psyche of the stair-obsessed hippogriff. This axis was a fundamental need, those currents were idle wishes, this epicenter was a deep-rooted insecurity… (It actually wasn’t remotely like any of that, but Ponish doesn’t have the words to properly describe it.) MOV $md, PFR POP $tr, $md MOV $md, PWN POP $tr, $md MOV $tr, PUR POP $md, $tr MOV $tr, 1 They returned smoothly, with Silverstream experiencing no change to her irregularly scheduled dream; she just kept screaming with glee as she cartwheeled down an escalator. Moondog shook herself down, head to hoof, and wrung a few stray thoughts from her mane. “So, um, yeah,” she said. She flexed her wings. “That’s Silverstream’s head.” The Tree was as doubled over as a quadruped could be, its hoof on its head and panting heavily, all but sweating. “Dear me,” it mumbled, “there’s so much…” Moondog grinned crookedly. “A leetle bit more than honesty, laughter, kindness, and all the others, amIright?” “I knew there would be, but the scale…” The Tree took a deep breath and straightened up. It was still shaking a little. “Thank you for your… hem, tutelage. I… I need some time to think about this.” “That’s fine, because I think I’ve spent a bit too much time here, anyway. There’s the whole rest of the dream realm to look after.” Moondog gestured vaguely in all directions. “But if you’ve got more questions, you know whe- Wait, you don’t.” She put a hoof on the Tree’s chest. ts = new TrackingSpell(self); tree.embed(ts); “Okay, now you know where to find me.” The Tree was still paying Moondog no attention. It took a few drunken steps to one side and collapsed. Moondog conjured up a beanbag chair beneath it so it had something to collapse onto. “And you… go through this every night.” “Weeellllll, not that, exactly,” said Moondog, rubbing the back of her neck. “That’s a bit headier than what I’m used to. Should’ve mentioned that it was a bit overwhelming, but I assumed… you being the… y’know, millennium-old gal and all… you would’ve… already…” But if the Tree had already seen that, why had Moondog needed to show it anything? Stupid. The Tree lay on the beanbag, staring at nothing with a glazed look in its eyes. Moondog awkwardly shuffled her weight from one hoof to another as Silverstream screamed in the background (“Variable-speed escalators!”). After a long moment, Moondog coughed. “You’re… um… okay, right? ‘Hey, Mom, guess what? I just fried the Tree of Harmony’s brain thing.’” She delicately poked the Tree with her mane. The Tree’s own mane batted Moondog away. “I am fine. I apologize. My social skills are worse than yours.” “Whoof. That’s pretty bad.” “I may contact you again in the future. Regardless of teaching not being your thing, I feel you did quite well.” “Um.” Moondog straightened up a tad. “Thank you.” Pause. “You know, this is going to keep going on, isn’t it? Me helping you navigate pony minds, you telling me about… whatever it is you do. We’re gonna keep it up, one thing’s gonna lead to another, and then, bam! Equestria’s two main protective not-quite-beings are inseparable.” “Considering how friendships can form, I would not be surprised.” “Then it’s settled.” Moondog threw a leg as best she could over the Tree’s withers and swept a hoof out like she was displaying a sign. “Moondog and the Tree of Harmony, babuffs!” The Tree tilted its head. “Best Arcane Being Buddies Forever.” Moondog released it. “Babuffs indeed,” the Tree laughed. “Between our own needs, we must part here. Vale, amice.” And she was gone. “Hey!” yelled Moondog indignantly, flaring her wings. “That’s my catchphrase!” She huffed and rolled her eyes. “The nerve of some trees,” she muttered. “I know, right?” hollered Silverstream. “Spiral escalators spiral escalators spiral escalators!”