//------------------------------// // Through Beady Eyes. // Story: How Luna Adopted a Hatchling (Against Her Will) // by Hokusai3211 //------------------------------// “I just cannot believe the sheer audacity of her, she’s always been like this you know?” “Hmm.” “She was always Fathers favorite. Everything was hoofed to her on a silver platter. I did not even get a personal butler until I was ten, ten! Can you imagine the indignity of that?” “Indeed.” “But twas I who had the last huzzah, ‘twas I that got Grandfather’s tutelage.” Luna said, shining a prideful smile at the stallion across from her. “Yes he might have been a little old fashioned,” she admitted, “yes he had a traditional view of mares. But once I impressed upon him my skill in fighting, leadership and my lack of them in the kitchen and for raising foals, he slowly came around.” “Right.” “And while we are at it, let me tell you now. If it twas us that were in charge we would not be beset on all sides by ancient foes every week. Forced to use six mares with no combat experience. I tell thee what, if it had my old brigade in the crystal empire, those bugs would have been little more than flattened cockroaches on the… are you listening?” “Sorry?” The stallion in question quickly snatched his gaze away from the cabinet across the room he had been eyeing for a while now. “Please continue.” Luna leaned up from the coach she was lying on.“Honestly, you call yourself a quack of the mind, yet you allow yours to wander aimlessly.” Luna chided, shaking her head. “Umm, I’m a therapist actually.” “Dress it how you wish.” Luna said, batting away the new-fangled word as she had many others, “call yourself whatever makes you feel better.” “Right…” he said slowly. “Sorry princess, this is all a little strange for me, I’m not used to ponies, especially royal ones  invading-” he glanced once more towards the cabinet and then around the pink walls of the room-“my personal time in this way.”  “It’s quite alright you are forgiven,” she said laying back down again, “I wasn’t doing much anyway, it’s been a rather quiet night.” She said gazing back up at the pink roof and shrugged. “That’s not what I meant but…” he seemed to rally himself, leaning forward on his desk, “look um, I would like to go back to something you said earlier?” Luna sat up slightly, from the long couch she had been lounging in and turned to him, “Touch on what? Do you wish me to tell you more of my sister's transgressions, like perhaps how Celestia absconded with my dress and wore it to the gala, even though we all agreed that yellow makes her hips look like that of a yawning hippo?“ “Actually,” the therapist said, wanting to stop the tirade of sibling rivalry that had been going on for the last two hours now. “I was more curious about what you mentioned, about the cub, your daughter.” Luna crinkled her muzzle at the unpleasant reminder, “Oh yes, that thing.” She sighed and glanced back up at the pink ethereal roof then at the strange dangling contraptions above her, a lot of straps and chains, but to what purpose she could not tell.  “One more stain to add to my lineage.” The stallion leaned back into his chair, that strange black underwear he had been dressed in rubbed harshly against it. Luna wondered if that was what they all wore, it seemed rather impractical. but then this was the modern time for you was it not? “From what you were saying, I get the impression you’re not comfortable around her, yes?” Luna scoffed, “would you be comfortable around something with a sharp beak that eats meat and carries daggers around instead of hooves?” He blinked slowly, “I seem to recall from the papers that she’s only a year old?” “Who can say,” Luna shrugged, “they all look the same really, I suppose it is young. But they spoil fast.” “If you say so princess, what I mean is that, a lot of ponies I have treated before who have a fear of- “Who says I’m afraid?” She snapped, sitting up from the coach, her eyes narrowed dangerously at the stallion who once again gulped and tugged at that peculiar black spiked collar around his neck. “Apologies, what I mean is, in my profession,  ponies who lean towards heavy um, what’s the word, biases such as yourself, they don’t tend to stem from learned facts. More from a personal experience with them. Both good and bad.” “What, like when you see one stealing from a store, or raiding a village, or running around in gangs harassing upstanding citizens?” She said, “yes I keep abreast of the news, there's no end to their savagery really.” The therapist blinked, then slowly tapped his hooves together. They also made a rubbery squelch as the shiny skin tight fabric connected together, “Let’s take a different approach, have all of your experience with griffons been bad?” Luna chuckled heartily at that, “oh, good one my dear quack. Most humorous as if there would be good ones.” She let out another chuckle, hitting her hoof loudly against the couch. The stallion blinked, “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes, but out of interest have you had negative interactions with other species though correct?” Luna tapped her chin in through bad experiences, bad experiences hmm, “Not particularly. Oh… Wait, I do remember this one time I fought off a zebra assassin, he had a ward that encased his body in magical armour,” she smiled at the memory, “He was most skilled, but no amount of armour or skills can prepare thee for an ample kick to the testi-“ “-Okay okay, I understand.” The therapist said crossing his legs, “*Ahem* so that was a traumatic experience then?” Luna raised her brow, “No, not at all, twas a most enjoyable battle, nothing gets one awake and ready to face the day like fighting off your first assassin before breaking fast.”  “So you don’t hate all Zebras for that experience.” “Of course not, that made me respect them more, you should have seen the assassins Celestia used to get, pitiful little things, hardly even worth waking up for.” “You don’t find that a bit of a contradiction?” He said, brow raised. Luna rolled her eyes, what about all this was so hard for others to grasp, “Why do you make it sound illogical, look it’s simple. Have you seen griffons, they have the highest crime rate, all they do is fight and the amount of illegitimate fathers, they’re over-following their offspring that the taxpayer has to pay to raise. I don’t see why we don’t all hate them quite frankly.” “I thought griffons mated for life?” He said his soft expression furrowing slightly. Luna leaned in conspiratorially and whispered. “They just say that to sound good, but come on, you’ve seen their women right?” Luna gave a dirisive snort. “Who thou wish to sleep in that bed forever.” “Okay, this isn’t working.” He muttered to himself. “Let's take it further back, you said your grandfather taught you, what did your grandfather think of griffons?” Luna chuckled, “savage mongrels he used to call them.” Fields above that stallion had a way with words. Then, before she could stop herself she added, “but…” The therapist pursed his lips, “but?” Luna blinked, unsure of why she had said that. But felt compelled to add, “well… he did not much care for any species.” Which was true enough, she was not even quite sure if he liked his own kind towards the end. “But if you lived as long as he, everything would get on one's nerves.” She added loyally. The therapist nodded, leaning forwards now, “you speak very fondly of him, it’s safe to say you looked up to him correct?” Luna felt a prideful smirk from her lips as she sat upright. “Who wouldn’t, he founded this country, wrested it from nothing and brought about a utopia with his own bare hooves.” “I take it you were close then?” “Ye-” she paused again, furrowing her brow slightly, “well, not close-close not like I am to my sister perhaps. Our role was that of student and mentor rather than flesh and blood family.” He took up a quill and jotted something down, something about that made Luna slightly uncontrollable. He looked up again and said, “And as a mentor, how was he, was he kind or demanding?”  “Hah!” Luna scoffed, “Certainly the latter, you do not know the meaning of the word. I have never been tested so hard in all my life as when I was under his mighty wing. He would broker no failure. Do you know, he once had me stand upright with a Melon on my head for three days.” “Three days?” He said with genuine surprise on his face. “Well, twas meant to be merely two hours. But he might have forgotten, he was a very busy stallion. Still, I proved my mettle.” She beamed at him. But the stallion seemed even more blank faced if that was possible.  Luna felt the need to continue, “You see, everything that did not live up to his standards was deemed a failure and grandfather deemed most everything to be ‘not up to his standards.’” The therapist tapped his rubber bound hoof on the table thoughtfully, “did he at least praise you for this accomplishment?”   Luna thought about it for a moment, her lips pursed as she gazed back through hundreds of years of memory. “He… um, he had his own way of praise.” She said tactfully. “He did not say it out loud,” then she quickly added, “but we could tell from his eyes that he was proud.” She smirked, yes that was enough, that was how a monarch should praise another. The therapist nodded, but she could see that he did not hold the same conviction as she did. “And when you couldn’t meet his expectations, what was he like then?” Luna frowned, she was not sure why they were talking about this. She had come to complain about her sister, that was all, why all of a sudden had they started to talk about herself and her grandfather? “I do not think this needs treading on, tis not relevant, instead let us tell you when my sister broke the royal cookie jar and blamed us unjustly for it?” “We can,” he said though his face had not changed from that neutral worryingly soft expression that she was already growing to dislike. “But just humour me for a moment, please I’m just trying to paint a whole picture here.” Luna sighed, she did not like talking about this. “Well if you must know he would get very quiet and would not speak directly to us.” “How do you mean?” He asked. “He would say thing aloud to others in our presence. At court, at dinner, things like, ‘if only he had been blessed with grandsons’, or ‘what had he done to deserve such a weak line of heirs.’” The therapist's face remained blank, save only for a slight pursing of his lips, “And how did that make you feel princess?”  “I do not follow?” Luna said, somehow feeling hotter despite the fact that this was impossible in her current state. “At the times when the stallion you respected and wanted love from the most would demean you. Did it make you feel less than? did it make you feel like a failure?” Luna felt her throat going dry for a moment at that word. “Of course not. He was right to think so, it just made me strive harder to be what he believed I could be, to meet his expectations.”  “And what about the times when you couldn’t do that?” “W-what?” Luna asked, feeling fake sweat form on her brow. “How did you feel when you couldn’t meet his expectations?” He asked softly.  Luna swallowed. Thoughts of blades and horns sounded around her. Thoughts of scowls and disapproving faces at court. Staring at her with that look of condemnation and shame pointed at her, such terrible shame.  Whilst the stallion turned to adjust the strange fabric on his foreleg, Luna horn lit up and a clock emerged from the walls. It phased in through the blurry pink of the undefined walls jangling against a set of straps against a wall. “Oh, look at that, I have over extended my stay.” The therapist blinked slowly, then looked up at the newly emerged clock, “Oh? Um, of course princess.” “So much to do, I can’t believe you detained me this long.” She said, hopping down from the couch far too quickly. “One subject cannot demand our entire attention, other ponies need help too, you know.” “Um, actually you came to me princess, I don’t recall asking for help, actually, Why did you come here at all?” Luna paused, glancing backwards at him, “Well, I heard all the screaming and groaning and thought you must have been having a nightmare.” She said glad at least to change the topic back to work. For the first time in the whole time she had been there, the stallion's face shifted from neutral to something close to embarrassment. “Oh right, yes well um, thank you, I guess.” “Yes it was most curious,” Luna continued, eyeing the subterranean room. “Most of the nightmares I deal with don't tend to have dungeons so… pink.” She walked up towards the cupboard he had been eyeing and opened it. She lifted up a flat blue paddle board, “this is rather ineffective piece of torture equipment I must say. Tis much too flimsy for flogging, you would hardly get any sort of confession from this.” The therapist threw himself towards the closet placing his back to it  “Oh, I don’t know, depends on how you ask I guess?” he chuckled uneasily, nudging it closed with a wing.  Luna frowned thoughtfully. Then turned and trotted towards a stainless steel table and lifted up another device. A purple knotted rope with a rubber ball in the middle of it, “My tis is a fancy gaging device, in our day we simply made due with a bit of cloth and string.” “Oh,” he said, not meeting her eyes, “You don’t say?” She stared down at him, wondering why his demeanor had suddenly changed so much. But she had more pressing matters to attend to. “Well, we shall be off then, I thank you for your time,‘twas an interesting distraction if nothing else. I shall now dispel this nightmare.” “W-Wait!” The stallion said suddenly, Luna froze as the stallions shifted nervously. “Um, what if…you didn’t?” Luna stared down at him, her face blank. “You…want to stay in the nightmare?” “If it’s not a problem?” “But,” Luna said slowly,  “you were on a rack, they were about to…” Words seemed to fail her at that moment. “Well um, might as well see where it went.” He said his eyes shifted nervously. She stared at him again for a long moment. Well this was awkward, she had never in all of her one thousand years of dreamwalking ever had anyone want to keep the nightmare going. No one sane at least. “If that is your wish, does that mean you want…” “If you could?” The stallion said, in the same awkward tone. Luna blinked slowly, then ignited her horn. The door to the side flung itself back open. She watched the torturer saunter back into the room. Though as far as torturers went, it wasn’t exactly the fear-inducing hooded figure she was used to.  Instead of the usual robe and saddlebags filled with instruments of pain. The stallion wore a very skin tight pair of garments around his hips and a rounded cap made of the same shiny material the mind quack wore. The rhinestones shone against the black and spelled in cursive ‘Ride em cowboy’’ on it.  He walked past Luna and gave her a suggestive wink. Then picked up the strange flogging device as he whistled at the therapist, who shyly trotted back to the rack Luna had found him on. Luna at a rare loss for words ignited her horn. Another door appeared in front of her and she opened it up to leave. Just as she was about to step away, curiosity got the better of her and she turned to look one last time, realised much to her chagrin  what the paddle was for, and promptly shut the door behind her.  She blinked a few times, letting normality settle back into her thoughts. Heck if dreams were not something she would ever get used to. Caring for others dreams was no easy task, dealing with the subconscious, dealing with the hopes and failures of other ponies manifested into monsters and whatever the heck that just was was something you couldn’t prepare for. That was what those vile rags had never understood, what those deplorable nobles failed to comprehend, dream walking was hard work. Ponies woke up from dreams and within minutes forgot they even happened.  Luna had to carry that image with her for life. She had a thousand years of experience with the Dreamscape. But she would never describe herself as its ruler, or even an expert. She was not so arrogant. The Dreamscape had been around far far longer than she had and would continue to be around long after she was gone. She was a warden of sorts. If a warden could call themselves a warden whilst not having a clue where she was going half the time.  Dreamspace did not follow the conventions of reality. It was ever shifting, ever changing. But despite that, that was not to say that she did not have her shortcuts.  She strode out of the stallion's dream and into a long white corridor. What she called her Nexus. She had created it many years ago. Long before her banishment. After a thousand years away from the realm, she had found it in major disrepair. Without her conscious will to shape it, the Dreamspace had contorted her neatly trimmed garden of dreams in a wasteland of weeds that would take a machete and a set of matches to set right again.  Doors connecting to ponies she had once known had folded in on top of one another. Where one door led to a baker she had once visited. Now it led to the dreams of an eldritch sea god, who by the way, was excessively rude and who’s bread she nowhere near enjoyed as much. It was a mess and it would probably take her another thousand years to fully sort out the way she liked. But she had made some progress. The one corridor she was now standing in for instance was more or less back to how she had planned it in her mind.  One down, seven hundred thousand more to go.  Stretching out in a long corridor was all the dreams of those close to her and those who she had come to know since her return. It made things far easier when all her loved ones, friends and close associates were in one hallway.  To the left she could see young Twilight’s door. That like-able, if perhaps slightly manic princess, her cutie mark etched onto it in purple. The arch around it glowing a soft white. Indicating a pleasant dream was being had.  Luna never entered a dream when it was going well. That was private. She would only step in during a nightmare or if called upon. Next to hers the other mares close to Twilight, an apple, a rainbow, a pie etc... All of them glowing a soft white. Next was a quill and a newspaper, Silver Tongue’s dreams. Fields only knew what he was dreaming of. Her sister had once described him as anal-retentive, Luna did not know what that had mean’t and at this point after what had just happened, she was afraid to find out.  She walked on until her sister's door came up. Again it was soft white, much like the mare herself. She was about to walk past it, when suddenly she stopped.  She looked around, despite the fact that there would absolutely be no pony around. Then slowly, smirking, she lit her horn.  “What was it again?” She said to herself, tapping her chin in thought. “Ah yes, that was it.” her smirk took on an evil twist as she held up her hoof. Not a moment later a bucket appeared in it. She glanced down at the croaking noises emanating from it and then slowly, carefully, opened the door just a fraction, and tipped the bucket into the dream.  She waited for just a moment, her ear flicking to the crack in the door.  “That is why, my little ponies. I will be implementing a tax on all pies, baked goods and confectioneries. One in every thirteen will be sent to my door every day. We will call it… a Celestian dozen.” Celestia spoke, “furthermore, to go back to the wine tax, I will be... What in the? Are those, Ahh, frogs, help, get them off me, ahhh!” Luna quickly slammed the door shut, holding up a hoof to her mouth and chucking until her face had turned a shade of red. That would teach her to meddle in her affairs. “See how you like it, when you face what you fear, sister.” She said triumphantly. Then after a moment paused.  Did she just think she was... No, it was a slip of the tongue, she was not… Of course she wasn’t, of those mongrels? That was impossible. That quack had simply messed with her mind, that was the first and last she would listen to one of them again.  She had only gone out of boredom, a place to vent her anger. That and they were supposed to keep a secret under pain of death… or something like that anyway. She continued on and turned the corner. Coming face to face with a dark blue door, a crescent moon etching into it and several chains across it.  Her door. She frowned at it and lit her horn to test the lock, until she was satisfied it was still closed. She was about to turn, to be away from any more unpleasant, but unpleasantness was more than happy to come find her instead. “What in the name of tartarus is this!?” She roared.  A small door with a single brown feather on it was directly next to her door. She stared long and hard at the door. Waiting for an explanation that she knew was already there waiting for her like a tap dancer clicking his heels on her desk. “You cannot be serious!” She furrowed her brow, lighting up her horn and watching as the little brown door disappeared from her sight. “Can I not get a moment's peace from this?” She grumbled. Bad enough that it happened in the day. But to come while she was working, that she would not forgive. She turned to storm out, happy to see the back of this place when she felt something shift under her hooves for a moment. There was a sound like a pop, then she turned back, the door was there once again. “Oh no-no-no, Tis not happening!” She lit her horn once more, and the door vanished. She would not accept this. Pop  Luna scrunched her eyes closed, putting more power into the spell than needed and closed the door once more, there was a half second of nothing then. Pop. Luna's eyes narrowed, “Tis how you wish to play this?” She asked the door that stood there, small but oblivious to her violent threat. “Fine, we have all the time in the world.” An hours later, Luna leaned against the wall of the Nexus, huffing and wiping sweat from her brow. “Ready to quit, you swine?” She exhaled shoulders rising and falling in quick succession. The door did not respond, its brown painted front stood indifferent to her threats. Mocking her with its silent aloofness. She leaned her head back against the wall. What was she doing? She already knew this was a fruitless effort. If the door was here, that meant that it was already a part of her unconscious mind. The Nexus was like a social family tree sprouting from the closest sibling to the most distant associate.  Try as she might, her mind knew that even if she did not accept it, the unconscious part of her brain could not help the fact that technically speaking, that thing was her adopted heir.She could deny her thoughts. But changing one's subconscious thoughts was a different matter.  It was a technicality of course. But try convincing a metaphysical Dreamscape that! She glanced in the direction of her sister's door. Perhaps one bucket had been too merciful.  She shook the thoughts from her mind. This was becoming intolerable. She had to get rid of this griffon somehow. She could not put up with this for the next… actually, how long did those birds live for anyway? Regardless, she had promised her sister that she would care for it. She couldn’t just discard it on some other poor fool's doorstep.  Or could she? Luna shook her head, no her sister would know and then there would be no end to her moaning. She would probably employ sarcastic, perhaps even satirical about the whole thing. Luna shuddered at the thought, anything but that.  No, she had to think about this carefully. What could she do, what could she…  The thought came to her like a baseball bat to the cranium. Fields above, it was so simple, the solution had been staring at her this entire time.  What had Silver and her sister said, that griffons was an orphan? Had this been a proven fact? Maybe, but if it had not, if for instance someone could produce a living relative, of which she had no doubt there would be hundreds, because of course there would be, those egg laying cretins breed like rabbits. Well then if such a relative could be found, she would be morally obliged to give it back would she not? It would be her duty to return that thing to its own kind where it belonged. They would laud her as a hero and more importantly she would be free from any and all responsibility.  Slowly she smiled at the door, when life gives you lemons, unwanted lemons that have fur and feathers in all the wrong places, you throw that lemon back at life and demand a proper fruit field’s damnit! She felt her hoof touching the doorknob, easy all she had to do was open., But that was where the trouble only began. She frowned down at her hoof, which seemed unwilling to obey her instructions. She knew why she was hesitant, the door was glowing white, it was dreaming, she was about to break one of her sacred rules. She did not interfere with another ponies' dreams.   But, it wasn’t a pony was it, it was just a Griffon they didn’t count…right? Still she found herself forcing her hoof to settle on the door knob, “Oh for the love of, get ahold of yourself.” She said to herself, grabbing her hoof with the other and forcing it onto the door knob.  She pushed the door open, staring at the blank white expanse. This was a whole new event for her. Dreams were a different thing to nightmares. Infant dreams might as well have been calculus.   Infants had no real concept of horror on a conceptual level. Often the scariest thing they dealt with was a round of peek-a-boos gone too far or a particularly vicious pinch of the cheek from an over eager aunt. Infants did not dream like older foals. Their brains were not developed yet for such conceptualisation. They had no understanding of metaphors or symbolism. As such Luna could not manifest herself as a reputation of her own real form like she could others. Because they had no internal concept for such a notion. If she was to do this, She would have to see the dream as the infant saw it. Though their eyes, experience it as they did, no inhibitors, no control. It was as if she and the infant would be one and the same and unable to leave until it was over. Like sitting inside the middle of a crowded theatre and only realising you were in the wrong play twenty minutes in. One was stuck there, helpless, stranded and at the mercy of the actors.  An infant's dream was more like watching a tapestry come to life or like one of those spinning wheel things with the lights that made a still picture move. One that Luna was still not convinced was the work of wicked alchemy of the most vile order. But what else was there to do? She had to do something. She regained her composure, closed her eyes, then stepped through the threshold. Blinding lights engulfed her for a moment then all of a sudden, she opened her eyes and found herself looking up at a constellation. The stars spun around a little wooden moon that dangled across from Luna's gaze. It had been painted a soft white the four or five stars had looked hoof crafted and the little chips on the side had suggested they were old. It took Luna a moment to realise that she was staring at her mobile. Well, not her, this Griffon. She watched it spin softly over the crib, then tiny claws lifted upwards towards the dangling wooden stars. So close but never quite in reach. Luna felt a deep longing to touch the stars, feel them, taste them even. She wanted to giggle.  Suddenly Luna saw enormous claws moving downwards from over the bars. Talons blurred her visions from the stars and suddenly her vision was filled with the face of another griffon.  Its beak was curved into a warm smile. Luna winced at the sight of it but she gave a mewing burble of sounds, at the familiar and alien face. The wave of the chick's euphoria hit her as though it was her own mothers smiling at her.  The arms of the griffon latched around the stranger as it spoke to Luna. Clearly it was the mother or perhaps a grandmother, it would have been hard for Luna to tell on a normal day. The females had almost a harsher voice than the males did. She couldn’t tell what the mother was saying, even if she had spoken their intolerable gibberish language the little griffon couldn’t understand it. It sounded like a distant trumpet.  The vision swung gently as the female griffon rocked her gently back and forth again. Much like Luna’s father had done to even up until her fifth name day. Luna couldn’t help it, she felt her eyes grow heavy once again.  Slowly the vision blurred.  When her eyes opened next it was as it had been before. But hot, the temperature was boiling, there was a stinging smoke in the air and everything tasted of ash. The thatched roof now danced with embers, the stars and moon swayed erratically around the crib. There was a sound of screaming. This one also hit Luna with a nostalgic tinge. But nostalgia was not always a good thing, sometimes it was a feeling of something you wanted before, but now wanted nothing more than to forget.   Luna let out a burbled cry, wanting nothing more than to be away from the heat and the smoke. Something grabbed at her frantically. Talons, bigger than before, firm and rugged. They were not as gentle as before.  She saw another figure, another griffon panting hard, its face scrunched in worry, parts of its feathered face was matted with something she couldn’t make out, black in places but also wet with something in others. Luna let out another wail, longer now and more frantic. The figure seemed to try and coddle her as best it could. But it was rushing, moving at the same time. It held her in an iron grip against its chest.  The world around Luna moved. Orange glow of fire, the black mass of smoke and then finally after it felt as though she would never feel cold again fridge ice air. The dream moved on.  The burning heat went to a sudden chill so cold, it felt as though nothing in this world would ever thaw. As though numbness had become part of her and she would never feel warmth again.  She caught sight of the moon and stars. The real ones this time, a brilliant galaxy of little lights and brilliant nebula Of untold thousands of glistening lights. She let out another whimpering mewing sound as her claws reached up to touch it, the stars and moon so bright in the sky. So close but never quite in reach. This time, there was no crib and the dream stretched on until Luna worried that this was all there would be when suddenly another face blocked it from view. Cold and upset she started to cry again.  The stranger, this unusual being that didn't have a beak or feathers on her face. But a rounded snout and something on its head that didn’t look like feathers frowned down at Luna.  “What are you doing down here little one?” It asked. Luna had to fight to make sense of the jumble of words that formed from the ponies mouth. “Oh fields, how long have you been out in the cold?” It picked her up, Luna felt the warmth against her tiny form. She had been so cold.  It glanced down at her, smiling, “It’s okay little one, where’s your mommy and da—-" Before the mare could finish the sentence Luna felt herself being sucked backwards. She flew not away from the dream. But away from the Dreamscape. Lights and visions passed her by in a blur a thousand thousand dreams passing by in seconds around her. Then, suddenly she blinked.  She was staring up at a decrepit old roof. Chipped white ceilings staring down at her. She gasped as she felt herself once more. Feeling her body merging with her consciousness once more. The images of the cub and the sensations were as real as if they had happened. She shivered as if the cold was still all around her and she was slick with sweat from the heat of the fire on her body. But most of all  she felt dazed and utterly confused.  She tried to piece together what she had seen, a cub living in some thatched wooden hut, a mother, maybe a father, a fire, screaming, then… Slowly Luna became aware of something else, another sensation. This one was more physical than before. There was something warm pressed onto her chest. Not hot like fire, but like that of another being to her. She had not felt like that comforting warmth in some time. And especially not in her bed. She glanced down to a lump under the quilt moving around as if it was a burrowing mole under soft grass. It paused when she moved her body slightly. Slowly, with care Luna peeled back the sheets and found two inquisitive beady eyes looking back up at her. The cub chirped softly, its little chest rumbling like a tiny steam engine exhaling a purring noise as it nuzzled into her. She heard something sucked in a breath as their eyes met for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps because she had been staring right through those eyes herself not a moment ago. Luna felt herself calm, rather than filled with utter revolution and shock like she had before. But she simply started there, blinking down at the thing.  That was, until she noticed that someone else was sucking in a deeper breath and she knew it had not been her. Because the ache of her chest told her she was still holding in her own.  She glanced slowly to her side, and there she spotted a figure, clad in black robes, holding what looked to be a heavy canvas bag. Again she gazed into black eyes. Only these ones were not filled with an inquisitive and playful stare. These ones looked like they had stared into a cave and seen the face smiling back with far too many fanged teeth and it could have been right to think so. “Oh dritt” it cursed, its beak opening as wide as its eyes. Oh dritt indeed, Luna thought as she slowly reached for the rapier under her pillow.