//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: The Night Can Change 
// by BlueyWaifu 
//------------------------------//

Manehattan had never felt so cold ever since Faltic had returned. A brief recess to Canterlot could never take away the familiarity that the grounded city held. Canterlot just felt too... sappy. The comparison of architecture could describe the ponies who lived there better than the vocabulary of those who resided atop the bowl on the side of a mountain. 

It's the little things you notice when you're helping run an invasion. 

It'd been a few short months since the invasion on Canterlot for the royal wedding. Of course, nopony had forgotten it really. News spread, the Royal Guard became methodically more organized, and awareness of changelings rose. However, it wasn't so dramatic in the common pony. After the press described the swarm as "back to where they came from," most ponies discussed it over a hobby, and went back to their life.

The dim casting of moonlight had just begun to show. The sidewalks around the outskirts of the city would blend perfectly into the street it ran alongside, would it not have been for the streetlights that dotted the path. Gentle, rhythmic hoofsteps patted the concrete, progressing towards a specific house in a long line of cookie-cutter designs. Stormy, a rich blue pegasus mare with striking brown eyes, and a brown mane tied in a loose ponytail trotted alongside a similar, lighter blue coated earth pony stallion with a blond wavy mane, Faltic. These features faded in and out with the passing of electric light. No carriages would be running so late, so walking back home was the next best thing.

Manehattan had been a long favorite of Faltic's. The densely packed skyscrapers could almost remind him of the Hive's staggeringly tall structure, the only difference was that there was so many. It's the very few enlisted as a scout who get to see these places of Equestria, let alone get to stay in them for extended periods of time.

Manehattan was dense, simple to catch a pony's love.

Definitely some ostentatious ponies up there. Wouldn't last a week in an actual city. It must have been a sense of pride for a more amicable location to toss banter at another one.  Canterlot hardly had any structures that could qualify as a skyscraper; with what enormous cheat it already had of being halfway up a mountain. Nothing more than a castle and it's surrounding citizens. At least, that's what it was to his eyes. For now though, the horrendous invasion was over. It was debatable on whether or not if Faltic's mind had gotten past it.

Stepping in front of his mare, Faltic offered his invitation into the house, using the key to it he'd been trusted with to keep from earlier. With an open door and an overexaggerated wave of his hoof, the suddenly butler-like earth pony raised his chin and put on his best accent. "Right this way, ma'am."

The pegasus looked at him, holding her hoof to her mouth to muffle a giggle. Mannerisms always seemed to elude him. She knew any etiquette only showed when he was either making a joke, or to reassure her that he cares in moments he might be getting too rowdy. "A gentlepony, as always."

Stormy graciously accepted the open door to her brick-walled abode. Inside was nothing more than simple. A couch across from a box television, a carpet on the floor in front of it. A lamp stood by the door, and another adjacent to the dormant television. At least, that's what Faltic could believe he made out. Everything was a silhouette or a dark smudge, as if the night was invading the home, concealing every object it came in contact with. 

Faltic half stepped in after Stormy, keeping the door from closing with a planted hoof.

"You going to be alright for the night?"

Turning and shifting weight as she crossed her forelegs, Stormy offered a warm smile. The flitting of her sepia iris' seemed to ignore any impact the lack of light had on her.

"Of course, don't worry about me. Today was the day I needed, and I'm glad to have spent it with you."

A natural grin managed itself across Faltic's face.

"I'm happy to hear. You take care and sleep well tonight?"

"After today? I'll sleep like a little filly. You get home safe.”

The next brief moment was spent wrapped in a hug, enjoying each others comforting warmth that spoke any more goodbyes that either could want to say. After breaking away, Faltic retreated from his half step into the house, and pulled the door shut with him. 

Ughh..

After the door had clicked shut, Faltic was power-trotting in the opposite direction. Down some stairs off the concrete porch, and swiftly past the gated off front of the house. He didn't have a similar destination, no residence to return to. 

Why does it have to be all the way out here?

It wasn't the longest trot to the forest outside of Manehattan, but it did the trick in making it seem like a hike, and in making a sour expression of those who were going to walk there.

Thankfully, the generous spacing between each street light played its part in masking the disguised changeling's visibly distasteful expression. Despite the late hour, other ponies still inhabited the near outskirts of the city. Sun or moon, anypony in Manehattan would be hard pressed to find a retreat from ponies.

The invasion debacle had left a noticeably lingering bitter taste, not only in those who participated in the incursion, but in the whole hive. To have taken it personally, no one had felt that more than Queen Chrysalis herself. To have the burden of fault on your shoulders, thankfully there were enough pairs of shoulders to carry it all.

It was an exhibition of strength in numbers. We certainly had our numbers. How could we have lost with so many? It has to be more individual than that, it can't be a we matter.

Of course, hive life had to move on, and changelings had to eat. Exactly what he had been doing for the past few days since returning to the city. Manehattan was and will always be where he scouted and fed the most. Something about the big city, density of ponies, and tall skylines that left a feeling of attachment.

Autopilot had long taken over. Faltic was so deep in the thoughts of the invasion that only now did he notice the scenery change. Buildings that stood on either side of him were now replaced by the swaying brush of trees. Though, still pressing forward as if he were on rails, it was almost certainly the reason why some crickets paused their nighttime chirping.

I'm still going to kill him when I see him. Some far off campsite, of all places. 

It had, more or less, become an almost regular rendezvous. The few changelings who scouted Manehattan for love began to assemble in different locations. Typically an out of sight, darker area, alley, or room that one of them had managed to obtain. By technicality, it did go against the wishes of the Queen, who, despite having every iota of confidentiality blown out of the water just a few months ago, still wanted to retain some secrecy. However, such micromanagement did not succeed. Even changelings can only go so long without genuine interaction. Tricking normal ponies into hanging out with you? Easy. Having a genuine time together with someone who wants to keep company with you? Challenging.

Luna's moon had just started asserting itself in the night sky, taking its place among the twinkling stars. Taking a look back, the Manehattan city skyline had become shrouded by increasingly dense forestry. It would make sense, needing to be as far from view of the city as possible. And as far away from the ponies who live in it. Maybe there was some merit to hiking out to the middle of nowhere.

Thankfully, after what felt like eons of walking, the path began to grow more carved out, and uniform. As expected, coming around a small bend, a wood structure revealed itself from behind a hill that curved with the route. With what moonlight there was, a dark silhouette of a fence intersected the path ahead. Taking a moment of pause, and in a flashing spiral of fiery green, the light blue earth pony vanished, and a dark, rugged and pointy changeling stood. It looked safe to do so, with it being the dead of night, and with superior vision than an average pony, seeing better in the dark was no issue.  

The wooden cabin lay dormant, dark, almost blending into the gloomy foliage of trees. The word ‘secluded’ almost didn't do justice in describing what first impressions there were. Taking the first steps to the fenced off path, Faltic noticed a small folded paper on the ground. With a faint arcane light, it was pulled up towards the changeling's face for better view.

Manehattan Campgrounds and Resort

Just beneath the wavy text, two ponies were pictured to be enjoying a walk in sunny nature, an almost unrealistic picturesque scene. The folds of the paper alluded to there being more imagery inside on the face of more paper. Most likely of a similar caliber.

The place has a brochure. How delightful.

While idly stuffing it into a front leg hole, the changeling unfurled two thin, buzzing wings and lifted himself over the impeding fence.

It wasn't the most explicit detailing on where in the grounds to meet up. Restel briefly went over a rough idea. Yes, Faltic could agree that the place does have benefits in hiding away anypony who might wander into it, but it wouldn't have hurt to specify where exactly, in however big of a place, to be. 

Landing softly, and raggedly folding up his wings, his hooves returned to autopilot mode, walking with a confident air of familiarity, the same path continuing beneath him, and knowing there were others here... somewhere. As tempting as it was, and with how mockingly open it is, Faltic resisted the urge to invite himself into the wooden lodge off the side of the designated path. 

It didn't take many automatically completed steps before the dirt path forked into two separate options. In the middle of the split trail, a sign stood, baring directions for whichever way was chosen.

Campsite right, beach and shed left. Uhh...

Deciding to spare the personal space around him whatever curses came to mind at the moment; "Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Campsite." Other than proceeding on the right path directed by the sign, not another thought was put into the decision.  Even after the short distance travelled, it was rather easy to notice the swift change in density of the nature that encompassed the path. No longer was the first building in sight anymore, nor the directional sign. Just a marked, winding path, trees, and the darkness of the night.

By chance, if no other changelings are found, maybe it would be a sound choice to spend the night in an established tent in the campsite.

Is this not one of those places? Don't you have to bring your own stuff?

Still continuing down a small incline, not a step was skipped as the brochure was snagged with magic from its crumpled spot within a leg hole. At the very least, the corners of Faltic’s vision became dotted with colorful foliage. Flowers of different colors and lengths began to appear alongside the path. Unfurling the paper before him, the brochure described of "sufficient space," and made claims of being the most "flowerful" in Equestria. All of which accompanied by sappy imagery of ponies pictured to enjoy the company of nature, or each other.

The only thing that snapped Faltic out of his lost thought was the brief, yet noticeable gap in the trees, and the turning-to-attention of his ears. Upon peering in-between the spacing, the scene was revealed; a light, illuminating the silhouetted backside of another pony. The angular shape of the figure's ears, and sharp edges made it quick to recognize that it was not an oddball pony who'd trespassed the property. It was another changeling that had trespassed the property. 

Could've told me this was where we'd be.

Instead of approaching the gathering himself, why wouldn't there be a retort for lazily communicated plans? Careful enough not to make enough sound to alert the prying ears of the opposing changeling, Faltic crumpled the already abused brochure into a ball once more, albeit, more suited for being a projectile. With a quick flick of rapid magic, it took less than a second for the ball of paper to strike the dome of the previously undisturbed changeling, and come to rest on the ground.

"I'm here, halfwits."