It hadn't just been about finding out who all of the Bearers were, during the early part of what she'd once seen as her durance -- and again, anypony who felt she'd taken a surprisingly long time in doing so was welcome to both confront the ways in which the settled zone protected them and try to deal with having one's primary information source as Fluttershy.
There was also the question of how they interacted with each other.
Fleur had worked her way into more than a few gangs. (The majority had been social clubs with insignias, providing little more than a place where she could rest. Others had been considerably more serious about it.) She understood that every group was going to have its own dynamics. Some bonds would be stronger than others. More fragile connections might be constantly tested by the weak acids of ongoing arguments. There were favorites, sapients who only managed to maintain identification with a group through hovering on the outskirts of any gathering, and she could just about always find that one griffon who was just waiting for everything to go wrong because that way, the first enemies had already been chosen.
She'd needed to watch the Bearers interact because she... had been trying to figure out how to work her way in. It would have helped if one (or more) had been attracted to her, but simply liking Fleur would have been something of a boon. And once she knew what the disagreements were, picked out the little social wounds which never fully healed and followed that by subtly picking at the scabs -- when she not only knew how the group worked, but had isolated sufficient levers to provide her with the force required to move the majority...
There had been a time when Fleur had seen her time in Ponyville as a durance or, more accurately, a prison sentence: the tracking spells built into the titanium circlet on her right foreleg more than hinted at the latter. It had led to what she'd seen as a perfectly understandable tendency to search for some way out of it.
But things had changed.
(The situation had changed.)
(Fleur...)
Working herself into the group... she'd accompanied them on two missions, and she still didn't feel as if that had truly happened. They accepted her presence in Fluttershy's life, but -- Fleur wasn't sure just how much of that was about keeping the pegasus happy. If the couple was ever pushed apart --
-- if Fleur ever made a mistake --
-- the last mistake --
-- she was almost sure Rainbow would keep talking to her. Possibly the farmer as well, depending on just how it all ended: Applejack liked Fleur, and... the former escort wasn't always sure why. But Rarity's gratitude over Sweetie might only go so far. Pinkie... there was a single true link, because both mares had been adopted. It gave them something to talk about -- but the unicorn wasn't sure it was enough. She didn't want to lose her time with Spike. And Twilight...
Fleur unnerved the little alicorn. The librarian had never been comfortable with her own sexuality: something which had been made all the worse by the arrival of wings, because that had quickly been followed by all of those whose dreams resided at the intersection of feathers and something not quite bone. Getting used to somepony who was so open about her own sex appeal would have been a challenge before the change, and when Fleur factored in Twilight's ongoing skittishness regarding the unicorn's talent...
But they accepted her as part of Fluttershy's life, even if that might only hold true for as long as the pegasus felt the same. And she wasn't truly part of the group, any more than Snowflake was. (She often felt as if he was more welcome among them. He didn't have a criminal record.) And it let her watch all the ways in which they interacted, if from a moderate distance. It had let her learn a number of things, and too many of them would have served as barrier-breaking gossip for the highest levels of Canterlot society. Just for starters, the mere existence of Fleur's original assignment had fully disproven the group marriage miniherd theory.
And it was amazing just how much they all pissed each other off.
There was a group, and it was composed from seven very different personalities. (Any fair count had to include the little dragon.) The workaholic didn't always want to deal with the napper -- who had just failed to meet the compulsive organizer's schedule requirements, and that level of obsession wasn't sitting well with a designer who wanted to know why everypony wasn't obsessing over her problems, and the baker's attempts to get everypony in the same room to talk it out could easily wind up wrecking the meeting area. Which assumed the caretaker was part of 'everypony', because any fight which became too loud...
They argued. They clashed. Come to know the assemblage, and you might start to swear that the only real commonality was in occasionally wearing pieces from the same line of oddly-designed jewelry. But they also reflected each other in small ways, and all of the mares intersected at Spike. Every last one loved the little dragon in their own way. They weren't always speaking to each other, but they would always talk to Spike -- and there were times when it made him the peacekeeper.
(Fleur had tried discussing the matter with Twilight, pointing out that it was a significant burden to place upon a youth. The little alicorn had sighed, and sadly said that she didn't know who else was capable of carrying it.)
The former escort knew more about them now. She watched some of the interactions, usually from that moderate distance. And she was in the sitting room with Twilight and Fluttershy, because she'd wanted to provide her love with the reassurance which came from presence -- but she wasn't sharing the fainting couch, because there were times when the pegasus needed a little space. Confession could clear out a room, and just about every animal had left the area. It was down to Angel, Katherine, and a few kittens who were too young to understand how any of the rules worked.
Fleur had been going back and forth. Some of that had been fetching drinks from the kitchen, and her most recent hoofsteps had put her in a position to check on the windows: the storm seemed to be testing the border, and she needed to make sure all of the water was staying on the outside of the glass. But she was usually able to see both Bearers.
Fluttershy, who had just finished, had her head down. The body was partially curled, and the tail's movement into a defensive position was exposing some very surprised kittens. A single visible eye was roughly half-closed.
Twilight, occupying a very small portion of the guest couch, mostly looked worried. Her feathers awkwardly rustled, but... that was typical for the alicorn, who usually carried her wings as if she wasn't entirely certain whether they were supposed to be there. The smaller tail was slowly shifting back and forth, and narrow features were twisted with concern.
The librarian mostly looked worried.
"How long have we all known each other now?"
The pegasus blinked.
"...it'll be... five years at the Summer Sun Celebration. Or the day before, really." Fur shifted across a shallow breath. "...that's really something to think about. Five whole years. It doesn't feel like that much time --"
"How long," Twilight slowly said, "had we all known each other when I first told you about Shining?"
It was mostly worry. There was also a certain undercurrent of irritation.
The pegasus winced.
"...a little under two years."
"And how much grief did you all give me?" was a natural query. "For not bringing him up before that? For -- how did Rarity put it? -- oh, right. For treating a sibling as a cross between classified information and something I just couldn't be bothered to mention?"
"...a lot," Fluttershy softly acknowledged.
"And we're going on five years now."
Silence.
"And you're just bringing this up. For the first time. In nearly five years. And only because he's in town and you don't have any other choice."
The quiet began to echo.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
The pegasus visibly thought it over, and a lowered head offered a response to limp forelegs.
"...don't be mad just because I beat your record."
Twilight blinked.
The alicorn didn't seem to find that form of reaction to be adequate. Doing it a second time wasn't improving matters. Lancing a desperate look across the room toward Fleur just intercepted the unicorn's own blinks, and then they were both staring at Fluttershy --
-- the pegasus sighed.
"...I'm not funny," she softly declared. "Still." Her head lifted, just enough to let some of the slumping mane go under her chin. "Twilight... Shining is somepony worth knowing about."
It got a weak smile from the alicorn. "He's kind of a moron."
Fleur, who would have once seen the exchange as the world's perfect offering of future blackmail material, still had to consider the source. Siblings didn't always assess each other fairly, especially if not doing so would lead to humor. Or... hurt.
Even so... she'd only been in Cadance's presence once, and only for a few seconds. She'd been in too much shock to consider looking at the third alicorn's puzzle, and likely wouldn't have risked it in Celestia's presence anyway. Fleur genuinely didn't know if --
-- she wouldn't be the first.
I've seen pictures. He's got a decent rib cage. Good shoulders. Tail is a little too regimented. Features were fine.
Skull doesn't necessarily have anything in it.
Thickening rivulets of rainwater streamed down the glass. Fleur adjusted the lighting devices, made the room a little brighter.
"...he's good at tactics."
Twilight's lips quirked.
"He tried to deal with a tactical problem by flinging his spouse at it."
Being on the outskirts of a Bearer conversation could feel like trotting into the cinema during the movie's tenth reel, asking a neighbor for a plot summary, and being told that Reels One through Nine were classified.
"...which worked," Fluttershy quietly said. "Even if it wasn't quite... what everypony was expecting. Your brother is somepony you can be proud of, Twilight. And he's... nice. Mine... isn't. So I didn't talk about him. And you have good memories of your brother. Things you could talk about, if you wanted to. I..."
She stopped. Her head went down again, and Fleur moved closer.
Twilight sighed.
"I understand," the little alicorn gently offered. "It was just... the coincidence of it." Somewhat wryly, "Even if one of us has to quiz Rainbow and make sure she's still a lone foal." Her tones dropped. "But with him in town -- we have to know, Fluttershy. Especially if he's trying to use you as a reference, setting up a credit line --"
"-- which already tells us something about him," Fleur stated.
It had taken an effort to keep the harshness out of her voice, and being at the immediate center of the mares' attention made her wonder if she'd fully succeeded.
"Such as?" Twilight carefully asked, and discomfort set wings to rustling again. The alicorn's feathers were misaligned: dried out from the storm, but not yet preened into position -- and Twilight wasn't all that good at preening. It was lack of experience.
Misaligned feathers. It reminded her that there was something off about Zephyr's wings, and Fleur still hadn't isolated it. Something which would take additional exposure, and the maximum number of times she wanted to see him again was once. The count required to watch him leave.
"Just for starters? That he either doesn't have money," the former escort told them, "or he's trying not to spend it. Did you see what he was trying to buy?"
Twilight shook her head. "Not everything. There were some things on the sales counter, but he was sort of -- in the way. I couldn't make out what they all were. All I really saw was some tooth polish."
The unicorn nodded. Maintaining his appearance, in a time when he's being careful about resources. Of course, there were times when keeping up your looks was the best resource available.
Fleur hadn't had very much money when she'd first entered Canterlot. Getting ponies to buy her things had been the easy part.
"Mr. Rich asked if he was working, and whether he had a permanent address in town," the former escort continued. "You said that didn't help. So it was no on both?"
"No job," Twilight confirmed. "He didn't say where he was staying. It was almost like he'd barely heard that one."
And still no word from Miranda on that, or anything else. "Do you know if he established the credit line?"
The librarian shook her head. "I left as soon as he started talking about being related. I wanted to make sure Flut -- you two found out what was going on, before there were any consequences for Flu -- for the cottage. I didn't think I could get Fluttershy into town before Barnyard Bargains closed for the night --" she glanced at the nearest clock "-- and we've been talking long enough that it's too late for that now. But if we went in tomorrow morning, Mr. Rich would understand. He'd make it right."
"...there's a lot going on tomorrow," Fluttershy quietly said. "...especially in the morning. I don't know if I can --"
"-- I can go," Fleur announced. "As soon as we get through the worst of it, if you want me to go."
If you'll let me do something for you.
"...please," her love softly asked. "He'll... understand that you're there for me. And if he had the late shift tonight, then he'll take the early one tomorrow. He likes to spread things out... make sure he sees everypony..."
Twilight's slender forelegs unfolded, stretched out.
"I should head back," she announced. "Spike's going to --" and the slim features scrunched into a hard wince "-- worry. He's probably already worried, because I came straight here..." The small mare hastily scrambled to her hooves. "At least I can teleport directly back. Fluttershy -- if I see any of the others -- do you want me to tell them?"
The pegasus sighed. "...he's in town. I don't know how long he's going to be here. He might not come across any of them, but..." They both watched her think it over. "...tell them. But -- ask them not to start anything."
"Fluttershy --" Both mares, at the same time.
"-- it can... get out of control," Fluttershy softly told them. "...slip out from underhoof, and then it's never pinned down again. If he tries something... it's okay to respond. Carefully, because I don't want to post bail for anypony. But if he's not doing anything, then... just leave him alone. Ignore him. Like he isn't even there. And Fleur, if you see anypony tomorrow, you can tell them. But -- tell them that. Just that."
Ignoring a problem doesn't make it go away. It just gives the issue more freedom to act --
But it had been an instruction from her guardian.
"Okay," Twilight reluctantly agreed. "We'll be careful. All of us." One more look at Fluttershy. "You're going to be okay for tonight?"
The pegasus looked to the unicorn.
"...yes."
It took a few seconds before the little mare responded to that. But she finally smiled. And then her horn ignited, and she vanished.
"...late feedings," Fluttershy announced, and started to get up. "Come with me?"
"If you want to talk about this a little more," Fleur tried, "before I go into town --"
"...I want to do something normal," the pegasus stated. "With you."
They wound up in bed together afterwards. They lived together. They loved each other. That was normal. But one slept less than the other. Their cycles didn't match. The unicorn usually fell asleep first, needed more rest.
It took hours of close contact within the cloud's nest before they both slipped into the nightscape. Normalcy had been banished.
Mr. Rich's office had a door, and rumor claimed that it had once been found in a closed state. The presumption was that somepony had either been trying to oil the hinges at the time, or had simply succumbed to curiosity as to whether they still worked at all.
If you lived in Ponyville, getting to meet one of the continent's economic forces had all the inherent complications of stepping into a store and asking to see the manager -- because when it came to the everyday operations of the franchise's flagship, that was what he was: the manager. He helped to plan advertising campaigns. He was often caught straightening up in the aisles. There were times when he made deliveries, especially when it came to seniors who could seldom reach the store on their own. Mr. Rich typically operated at a hooves-on distance of none-removed. And he worked in an office where the door never closed, because ponies were going to come in anyway and besides, you could always just knock on the frame.
It was a very basic office. The desk was older than the owner, and featured every last one of the original scratches. The visitor's bench was nicer than that given over to the central occupant, and had seen its padding more recently refreshed. One wall featured a map of Equestria, and sixteen small pins showed every piece of non-conquered territory. There were two file cabinets, an In tray with a regular flow to the Out, and four small pieces of framed artwork decorated the area.
The office was perfectly ordinary, and the rather plain brown earth pony stallion on the other side of the desk was almost utterly unremarkable. He blended into crowds, possessed the capacity for fading into a few backgrounds, and had all the readily-identifiable characteristics of grass: an observer might not be sure of having located exactly the right blade, but one was surely as good as any other and if not, some more would be along in a minute.
If you failed to recognize that his mark was one of the few icons known to be an expression of a pure business talent... then he became very easy to overlook.
But if you knew who he was...
...then it still might not matter.
Because in Ponyville, you went into Barnyard Bargains. Told a member of the staff that there was a problem. And then you asked to see the manager.
He was looking at Fleur across the desk, and there was no particular interest in his gaze. She'd solved his puzzle some time ago, doing so during the period when she'd still felt herself to be trapped within durance and -- well, if she was going to be trapped somewhere, then effectively being locked in with one of the wealthiest single ponies in Equestria might have something going for it. An early curiosity regarding unicorns had left enough embers to potentially be stoked --
-- but she was taken. And he was dating.
Fleur looked into weary blue eyes, noted the faint bags and creases which so often underlined them, and considered recommending a cream.
"It's a very limited credit line," Mr. Rich told her. "Enough to let him get by for a while, but not much more. And the first payment is coming due soon." The rather plain stallion sighed. "I had to think about whether I was going to give him that much."
"Why?" It was a very direct question, but that just made it a good lead-in. There was a worse one to follow.
The stallion's tired gaze briefly flickered to his mark.
"Something didn't feel right," he admitted. "Not to the point where I would have just turned him out, but... enough that I had concerns. Enough to stall him for a little while, so I could check a few things."
"Such as?" (That hadn't been it.)
A middle-aged female pegasus came down the corridor, paused at the doorway. Mr. Rich shook his head, and she moved on.
"We keep records on those who've failed to pay in the past," he said. "Something shared between franchises, as some ponies feel they can move fast enough to stay ahead of their debt." The head shake also came across as weary. "They can be right -- for a little while. It takes time for every store to update every other. We're usually a couple of moons behind. But we do all talk. And distribute the occasional picture, if anypony has one. He didn't match anypony who flew out on a bill. A blank history, at least with the franchise. But..."
Another glance at the icon on his hip.
"...I didn't feel fully comfortable," Mr. Rich continued. "So I put a stronger initial limit on it than I might have for most."
"And he tried to cite Fluttershy as a reference," Fleur checked.
It got her a nod. "But only as a relative." And a brief frown. "That was the only way he described her. As his sister. It wasn't exactly a claim I'd ever expected to hear anypony make. Not with Miss Phylia, and not when it was isolated."
Fleur's carefully-crafted right eyebrow went up.
"Isolated?"
Carefully, in tones which suggested a parent passing on a hard-won lesson to a child, "Ponies in search of credit -- or discounts, and the occasional free nudge-over -- have claimed ties to Bearers before. One said they'd been assigned to a mission, and the palace had forbidden her from explaining exactly why so much of the Cookery aisle now qualified as vital supplies. Others say they're relatives, or..."
There were ways in which it spoke well of him, that the pause before the next word had mostly given the blush a chance to rise under the fur.
"...lovers," he reluctantly finished. "But those ponies want to make me feel their needs are important. So they attach the title. Claim connection to the Bearers. And he simply invoked his sister."
Fleur took a breath.
"And did you make her liable? If he doesn't pay?"
when
Something about those tired blue eyes snapped into sharp focus, and the strengthened gaze went over her features. There was still no attraction anywhere within that regard. Just... inspection.
"Miss Dis Lee," Mr. Rich carefully said, "exactly what do you think I am?"
Her head almost dipped.
There were a lot of claims about the stallion in the settled zone, and a mare whose central acquaintance with the profit motive came from attending parties hosted by its Canterlot incarnations had found some initial trouble in believing them. But it had been more than a year...
A pony who understands that a living wage doesn't mean bare survival. Who basically pioneered the modern sick leave policy. Somepony whose mark tells him to chase bits, and whose conscience demands that they all be honest ones. Who... still has something of a blind spot where his daughter is concerned.
She would have tried to acquire him simply for the bits...
"If he fails to pay..." This sigh was deeper. "I didn't allow him to list Miss Phylia as a guarantor, because she wasn't there. She would have had to swear for him personally. And it's not exactly a secret, Miss Dis Lee: that chasing a debt can cost more than the lost amount. There are times when all I can do is write up a name and description, then pass it to the other stores. And, when possible, add a picture. So it's a limited credit line. Nothing which the franchise can't afford to lose. And... I'm hoping my instincts are wrong. The limit can be raised. Gradually, if he's faithful with his payments."
She nodded. It was about as much as she currently trusted herself to do.
"I'd ask if you wanted to be notified of unusual expenditures," he added, "but I don't feel as if I left him enough room to create any." Carefully, "Even so -- is there something I should be watching for?"
Fleur had been given permission to tell the Bearers. Mr. Rich was on the outside of that. And --
-- did ponies change?
Did anypony? Ever?
She... wasn't sure.
"I don't know," she told him. "I don't know very much about him." And there was only so much she could ask Fluttershy to tell her at once.
He nodded -- but there was something cautious in his eyes. "I'll still send word to the cottage if I feel he's getting something strange. Last night was mostly toiletries. And..." A little more slowly, "...I'm not offended, Miss Dis Lee. You're just trying to protect your own."
Her only response was to look at the artwork.
"That one's different," Fleur observed. "For style."
Mr. Rich smiled.
"You can tell?" he asked. "Mouth-drawn scribbles can blend into each other after a while."
"She was clearly trying to draw you."
"Not the best choice of subject," the stallion allowed. "But she asked me to keep it. So I put it up with Diamond's." He glanced at the most recent frame. "They go well together, don't you think?"
She looked at it for a while.
Everypony says you have a blind spot. Your daughter. It used to be her behavior, but -- you got past that, and she's better than she was. But you still miss a few things, when it's Diamond. And I don't know if you've thought about this part. What could happen when she realizes that all it takes to create a plural is one vow. Daughters.
And even so...
Dulci's lucky.
She stopped at the police station: something which didn't quite require an act of will. However, Miranda was currently failing to exist for Fleur's convenience, and waiting for the five hours required until the mare got back from the capital was going to be a waste of time. There was also very little point to asking any of the officers about how things were going, because she was fairly sure that the dark unicorn would have kept matters personal. Additionally, most of the ponies in the station had been assigned to watch Fleur at some point, several had been present when she'd been carried into the cell, and all were now aware that she worked for the palace in some capacity. It meant the station as a whole was never entirely certain as to what was actually going on with her, and it tended to color interactions in the twisting hues of mass confusion.
And after that...
She had the option to make the rounds under an overcast sky: warning the other Bearers about Zephyr. But Fleur had gained some personal experience with Twilight, and recognized that the librarian was probably going around Ponyville with a checklist, an order of vocal operations, and a map designed for maximum route efficiency. That made it easier to just head back towards the cottage.
However, when it came to tracking Bearers, one target was notoriously mobile -- right up until the moment she decided to settle in for a quick snooze. And Fleur, with no immediate plans beyond heading towards the necessary bridge, getting back onto the grounds, and being there for her love, just happened to see the sleep-limp prismatic tail dangling over the edge of the three-level store roof first.
Rainbow had landed.
Fleur felt it was most of what was currently drawing attention. There were ponies passing by on the street, and the herd was doing so at a distance: giving the two mares some space. And they didn't have a lot of viewing time to begin with, not when moving at a normal pace. The discussion was taking place at a corner: something which meant that ponies curved into sight slowly at the northern part of the turn, then vanished quickly to the east. Fleur usually had about forty seconds of warning time for the majority of approaches: more than enough to let her determine if somepony was trying to overhear. It was something she had to do over and over again, because the unicorn had ventured into town fairly early. There was something of a morning commute in Ponyville: from homes to train, or just heading to workplaces within the settled zone. It usually took a while to complete.
But they kept slowing in trot and flight, staring at the ongoing interaction, and some of that came from the shock of seeing four cyan hooves on cobblestone. Firmly planted and staying in one place.
Rainbow had landed. It was just that bad.
Fleur told the weather coordinator what she could. About halfway through, she belatedly recalled that Fluttershy had never gotten outside to perform the border check, and vowed not to tell the Bureau's most local representative. Not that Rainbow would particularly care and the pay voucher would undoubtedly come through regardless, but Zephyr was more than enough to deal with for one day. It was an understandable slip, and nopony had to know.
Which means Fluttershy may turn herself in. From guilt.
"So," Fleur quietly finished, "somepony was supposed to check. Any siblings?"
"Nah," Rainbow quickly said. "I was such an awesome kid, it would have just been mean to stick somepony else in second place." She shrugged. "I get the brother experience with Spike anyway. And then he goes home. Fluttershy's sure she doesn't want us starting anything?"
Fleur hesitated.
She'd known the group for a while, and had an easy time picturing the Bearers creating a situation which got Zephyr to leave. The difficult part was creating a scenario which left most of the town standing.
It still gets him out of what's left of Ponyville --
-- her guardian had provided instructions.
"Yes," the unicorn reluctantly said. "It doesn't mean you can't respond if he initiates."
Rainbow snorted. "If I move fast enough, I just might respond while he's still doing something. Make it Rainboom speed and I could get all the way to 'before'." Quickly, "What about pranks? I could try a few --"
"-- I think that counts," Fleur made herself say.
"Even if he doesn't know I'm doing it?"
This hesitation was longer.
"...yes."
Flower Wishes galloped in from the north, took the turn at speed and vanished to the east. Both mares, acting with the ease of long experience, ignored her. Having one member of the Trio race by in a visible panic was just about a sign of normalcy: the problems came when they convinced others to follow.
"Figures," Rainbow muttered. "No pranks. I haven't had a good pranking spree in moons, I've got somepony in town who deserves it, and no pranks..." Her wings unfolded, flapped a few times and completely failed to shed any of the irritation before returning to the rest position. "At least he'll be easy to spot. Your height -- that's big for a pegasus. And I can make out that mane from overhead."
A very loud snort of pure irritation reached them. This was followed by the echoes of hooves hard-stomping against stone, and then the visual caught up. Neither mare thought very much of it. To have Berry marching about in a state of open irritation was effectively the default: the only unusual part was seeing it so early in the day.
"Probably something going on with the school," Rainbow decided as the bartender vanished around the corner. "Ruby's a weird kid. Nice filly. But weird. So no pranks, don't start anything -- what if I do something which gets him to start?"
Fleur, only partially in spite of herself, was momentarily intrigued. "Like what?"
"Dunno," Rainbow admitted. "I was hoping you had an idea --"
It was normal for Flower Wishes to be in a panic: a falling leaf could do it, or a leaf which should have fallen days ago and was clearly being kept in place by the Conspiracy. You expected Berry to be frustrated with the world entire: narrowing down to an exact target was entirely optional.
But Time Turner was one of nature's amblers. He knew where he was going, he would get there at his own pace, and he just about always reached the destination at the intended minute. He didn't rush, not unless it was an all-out evacuation gallop. And he certainly didn't slam his hooves into stone with every step.
It got their attention, as something a little too far removed from the ordinary. They watched as he moved past them, listened to every impact until he went around the curve.
"That's weird," Rainbow summarized. "Maybe there's something going on?" Her wings spread out, and did so at the same moment her ears rotated. "And they're all coming from that way --"
It took Fleur a moment before she realized why the next sound was unusual at all.
Not hooves contacting stone. Keratin still, but -- more of a scratching. And she had to strain in order to pick up on the other aspect, something which mostly existed as an absence of sound. Two scratching patterns, and close behind them -- aural vacuum. A surface which was too soft to produce noise on rock.
It was a combination too familiar to be considered unusual. It was also too far from home, and she didn't realize it until the moment when its creator, whose golden eyes were staring straight down as if trying to decide which parts of the unworthy road had to be broken first, came into sight.
There were some who might have claimed the stranger possessed an aspect of fallen nobility, and they would have been lying. There had been an ancient lie which had tried to declare that a link could be claimed solely through that which rose from the blood, and it had taken very little time before it had fallen apart because a place in the Great Chain had to be earned. Any combination of great cat and hunting bird could appear from the blood, any at all. To say that something special was attached simply to displaying aspects of eagle and lion was purest falsehood. For the body alone, it was impossible to lose what the tiercel had never truly possessed.
She was somewhat taller than Rainbow, longer from the tip of the beak to the end of the roughly-tufted tail, but... that didn't make her particularly large for her species. Much more notable were the talons which finished off the forelegs: the digits seemed unusually flexible, bent a little too far with each step. And the beak...
It was rough. Nearly everything about the tiercel was rough. The beak's edges suggested a diet which needed adjusting, and the dingy white feathers at the front of the head seemed to be holding their projecting position through the bonding power of road dirt -- although Fleur wasn't entirely sure that a clean grouping would have sat any more properly. But brown wings begged for preening, and the most local party wasn't paying attention. Any non-visual focus was being devoted to movement and to Fleur, that walk looked like nothing so much as The Stalk Of Shame. The signature of a tiercel who'd just left a bed which she really hadn't wanted to be in, and that realization had only arrived with Sun.
When it came to Ponyville, she was completely out of place, and perhaps that was why those huge golden eyes refused to take in the settled zone. She kept staring at the ground as if demanding that the world put her somewhere else, and every step taken across Equestrian territory made the fur twist that much more against its natural grain.
And given another second, Fleur might have said something. Tried to see what was so very wrong, when it came to someone this far from home.
But there was no opportunity.
The wind hit her first: a tremendous blast which half-bounced off the stone, produced by a strong pegasus taking off in a little too much of a hurry. And then the shadow covered her back, followed immediately by sleek cyan legs pressing far too tightly against her sides.
There was a moment of struggle. The weather coordinator was strong in the air, one of the most powerful flyers Fleur had ever seen -- but the unicorn was significantly larger, and represented mass being told to shift from a motionless start. Pressure carries were easier when both initiated in flight and applied to something which was already moving: Rainbow was essentially attempting to perform a feat more suited to Snowflake, and doing so with very little warning time --
-- but the weather coordinator was strong in the air.
Wind blasted down again, bounced enough to completely disrupt Fleur's fur while rebounding into a portion of additional lift. Her hooves parted from the street, the mares were moving up and Rainbow's legs were clamped tightly enough to hurt, keeping the unicorn in place through pressure alone --
-- it wasn't a position which could be maintained for long, and the pegasus didn't try. Three floors straight up, and then she roughly placed Fleur on the roof.
It was a hiss of sound, jolted loose by the landing: very little volume, released with considerable force. "Rainbow!"
Who ignored her.
The tiercel, who hadn't noticed any of it, kept stalking forward. The elevated position allowed Fleur to spot multiple ponies well behind her, none of whom were trying to get any closer. Nopony had looked up at the thump of the landing because it was a mixed town and when you shared a settled zone with the weather coordinator, you only moved towards the sound of a crash. And Rainbow, with her legs freed, was weaving them in a pattern under her own body, as vapor thickened and billowed outwards from fast-shifting hooves, the cloud forming around the mares and gaining density by the second...
Moisture was soaking into white fur. It was getting harder to see.
"Don't look up," Rainbow frantically muttered. "Sun and Moon, don't look up..."
"Rainbow, I know you can see in this --" at least for spotting body heat, and Fleur wasn't sure how well it worked when surrounded by chill vapor "-- but I --" She shivered. "-- what are you even --"
A single word. Plain, stark, with no brashness at all.
"Gilda."
Fleur instantly tried to focus, staring down at the street. Most of what she could see was fog.
"That's Gilda? The griffon from your flight camp?"
"Yeah! So keep it down! I'll find somewhere to put you after she's out of the area! I didn't want to move too far with you! If anypony should understand about griffons and moving objects --"
Almost frantic now, wondering if any of it had reached her voice, "-- Rainbow, I understand if you don't want her to see you, but --"
"-- me?" The harsh laugh was mostly suggested by whisper, cut off almost instantly. "This isn't about me!"
Talons scratching on stone, the near-silent passage of paws, and all drowned out by inner shock because you didn't have to know Rainbow for very long to recognize the last statement as being somewhat unusual. "What do you --"
"It's about us!" the pegasus hissed. "She can spot me any time! I can deal with her! But I don't want her spotting you with me! I don't want her seeing you at all!"
As short, cut-off phrases went, this particular trio of words seemed to be worth repeating. "What do you --"
"-- she's from Protocera, Fleur! What happens when she sees you?"
The fog had become too thick. The unicorn could no longer see the street, and trying to regard anything further away than her own snout would rapidly become pointless. And yet, her head turned. Looking back.
Fleur peered through the fog, and stared at the inescapable icon of her mark.