So much had happened in such a short time that Khan wasn’t quite sure why he now stood atop a hill near home. He panted happily nonetheless, as he remained watching the hills in the dimly lit night. He knew his name was Khan now. His new friends had given it to him as a token of acceptance. Still, he didn't quite know why these strange almost-ponies had suddenly appeared and taken him in. It was nice but confusing, much like the now dulled pain in his hide.
Just yesterday that pain had been sharp, distinct, forcing him to remain awake and weakening him. Now, after falling asleep carelessly, he was back to feeling strong with the pain low enough to be ignored. Whenever he went to sniff the wound, the den mother mare would swat his nose away and give him some warning. He had stopped after the third attempt, noticing she was considerably worried about something, glancing towards the hills his cave was nestled in. He didn’t want her to have to worry about him as well. He wasn’t a pup any longer.
Instead, he stood over one of the little offspring, the one that was the other den mother’s. Khan couldn’t understand why there were two, but he didn’t know how to ask either. Communication with his new friends was hard since they didn’t ever understand him. She was an adorable little thing though, and whenever she began to tear up or fuss, he made sure to softly nuzzle the top of his head against her. He treated her as carefully as if she had just been born, even though she was older than that by some. Still, he knew he was a hundred times her size and it would worry the first den mother if he weren’t slow.
He also received a surge of pride every time the mare smiled at him comforting the little filly. It was both approval of his care and affirmation that he was being a good teacher, as all older siblings should be. It also helped keep him from asking himself questions he didn’t think he would understand until he was told.
Why had these kindly strangers brought him to their strange, massive den? How had they made the pain ease when he slept? They had known what he had done, the strange, mean old one had revealed so, but why had it mattered to them? They were like him, so they must have suffered like him! Ponies took from him what he had loved and attacked when he had tried to be friends. That point, however, also further confused him.
He hadn’t always been this large monster, a creature looming over every other breathing thing. One of what he was had transformed him into this. Before that, he thought maybe he was a normal wolf or perhaps even a pony… either way he was a new creature now. A creature that could hunt like no other and think like no other, whether that was a good or bad thing, he hadn’t learned yet. But he would. One of the reasons he had followed these kindly strangers was that they must know something he didn’t. Perhaps, in taking him in, he would come to know more about himself than he ever would have before.
The den mother beside him said something, and though he couldn’t understand it, the reassuring hoof on his back made his tail wag. The smile she gave him only made it wag quicker. It was fun to make others smile like that, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt smarter for doing so.
Suddenly, the wiser one of him, the one who had failed miserably at hunting deer, strode right up beside him. If the old almost-pony was mean and the den mother was kindly, then his blood brother was the perfect inbetween. He was impatient but understanding, which made as much sense as his new situation. The other one of him couldn’t be too much older than Khan was, but something about the way he carried himself and talked to the younger creature made Khan feel… intimidated. He was, after all, much smarter when it came to what they were. Somehow, he was both a pony and whatever Khan was.
They all were, actually, or all except the second den mother. He had seen and smelled them transform from pony to creature and back several times now, every one of them. That confused him even more, though. Were these disguises to help them not be harmed by ponies like he had been? Was it to reduce how much energy they needed between hunts? Or was it a hunting technique instead, luring in ponies with their similar forms?
These were more questions he just couldn’t work out in his head. He had tried not to think about them, but now that he had begun asking, he couldn’t stop. Why was the old mean one not the alpha, nor the older mare-looking one? They had seniority, and surely they had to be mated in order to lead? And why didn’t the den mother and alpha lead? Didn’t they have control and respect over the other members? They were at a ripe age to take control of the pack and stamp out resistance if any of the others did. Though they didn’t have that sizeable of a litter, so maybe they were waiting for more pups first.
Khan started as he felt a hoof rustling his fur, turning his head down to find the den mother peering at where he had been hurting. She was silent as she stared at where the pain had come from, before nodding to herself and looking up. She must have seen how confused Khan was, because with a short laugh, she reached up and patted his back. Once again, he began to pant happily. It was a natural reaction, and after only a few seconds, he’d forgotten what he’d been thinking about.
“Y’know, you’re not the monster we thought you were,” she told him. He heard the words, and they sounded like he could understand them, but like every other time, none of them stuck. Very rarely they would say something that made sense, but otherwise he was subject to understanding them by their tones, emotions, and gestures. “I never got to properly introduce myself, did I? I’m Nightseer.”
He tilted his head, trying to hear better, hoping it would allow the words to pierce the fog in his mind. His eyes squinted as he tried to roll the words through his head, force them to make sense, but they just wouldn’t. Seeing this, the den mother repeated again and again, “Nightseer. Nightseer. I’m Nightseer.”
Nightseer. He locked onto that word, the one she kept repeating. Like other words, it didn’t have a definition he remembered, but when staring at her, he saw her pointing to herself as she said it. Suddenly, she tapped a hoof against his chest and stated, “Khan-” before pointing at herself and calmly saying, “Nightseer.”
For the first time, it clicked. He was Khan, and she was Nightseer. That was her name. She was Nightseer the den mother. His tail began flapping about behind him as he realized he now knew something more. He could learn from these special almost-ponies.
“He gets it,” Nightseer exclaimed, pointing at his tail.
“He probably doesn’t,” the creature like him said, drawing Khan’s attention. Was this one trying to teach him too? “Watch. Who’s Nightseer? Me or-”
Khan whipped his head around to Nightseer, wondering why in the jumble of nonsense his older blood brother was spewing he dropped her name. For some reason, Nightseer began laughing hysterically at Khan. Confused, but along for the ride, he began to smile at them through happy pants, tail wagging.
“Sweet Luna, he understands,” the other like him spoke from behind, drawing Khan’s attention again. Once again, he found a claw poking his chest as the blood brother frantically spouted, “Khan, Leper. Leper. I’m Leper. Who’s Leper?”
Khan felt his eyes widen as he realized what was happening. He was learning names. Their names! He had been right all along! And if he could learn their names, maybe he could learn their language and learn to communicate with them correctly. Excited, he almost jumped up, barely remembering the little pup in time. Looking down at her, he quickly glanced back and forth between her and Nightseer expectantly.
She picked up instantly, pointing and stating, “Amethyst. The little one is Amethyst.” Then, holding up her own offspring, she exclaimed, “This one’s mine, Ebony. Ebony! Ebony!”
Ebony, held by Nightseer. Yes, he understood. Looking down at the smaller pup, lying on the grass in front of him. Amethyst. The child he was entrusted with right now. Carefully, he used his paws to scoop up the little one and nuzzle her stomach, eliciting a soft gurgle. Then, glancing to the side, he stared at his blood brother and familiar, Leper. They were his new family now. He knew their names. He was learning from them.
He almost couldn’t contain his excitement, so when Leper reached to take Amethyst, he gladly allowed him to do so. Freed from having to contain himself, he stepped back and gave a happy little bounce, tail swishing back and forth wildly. He had been right! They were friends that wanted to teach him how to be better than what he was. If he was lucky, they may be able to teach him how to no longer be confused. They would be able to pierce the cloud in his mind!
“Well, looks like we found our cousins,” a new voice declared, bringing Khan’s attention to the other end of this hill. He panted excitedly, hoping it was one of the other’s here to help teach him more. Instead, as he found himself staring at the distinctly female creature like Nightseer, he paused. This wasn’t anyone he had seen before. Who was this?
She was joined by five others on land, though he could pick out two more on the hill behind this one. In the sky, seven flying almost-ponies were descending, their shadows strangely ominous as they came in for landing. From the cheeky look on the female creature’s face and being outnumbered greatly, Khan presumed that this was not a friendly entourage and quickly began growling at the female. Standing up stiffly, his fur spiking up and his tail rigid, he dug into place and glared at the group that approached.
“Bit late for that, love,” the female said, remaining ever proud and confident. She raised a single clawed paw into the air, holding it out towards Khan, confusing him. What was she doing? Before he could react, though, it tapped him soundly on the tip of his snout, eliciting a sneeze from him. Laughing, she told Nightseer, “He’s cute, isn’t he?”
“Khan,” Nightseer called strictly, making him turn to look at her. With insistence, she waved for him to step back, saying something he couldn’t quite hear correctly. Following her gesture, he reluctantly fell back to her side, sitting as she did, staring at the newcomers. They were nobody he recognized, but in short order, Nightseer and the female like her began speaking.
Even though he couldn’t keep up with the sound of the fast conversation, especially as Leper and two of theirs joined in, Khan knew they weren’t going to fight them. Still, Khan didn’t trust the newcomers. They carried themselves around confidently, dismissive of those they spoke to. He wanted to growl in frustration at their pride, but he refrained for Nightseer’s sake. Instead, he sat patiently, staring at the others talking in such quick and urgent tones he began feeling a little stressed. What were they doing now?
Finally, the last two members of the group arrived, and much to Khan’s shock, it included a male almost exactly like him. The creature was bulky, larger and with thicker fur, unlike Leper. The blood brother was a slight bit smaller than he and had a more slim, lithe complexion than the sheer muscle that Khan had. Something about the other one felt… familiar. As he approached, Khan took a deep whiff of his scent, hoping to identify why it was familiar.
Swamp water. Mud. Moonlight. Pony screams. Blood. Pain. Agony. Fear.
Rage.
A surge of memory, awful and untainted, returned to him at the ragged, disgusting scent of the lycan that approached them. It was him! The one who had made him into this monster. The original monster. The monster who had removed from him his ponyhood. The one who had killed Violet before his very own eyes and had eaten her down to the bone.
Khan didn’t think, he simply attacked.
Ignoring the sudden outcries from his own and shouts of surprise from theirs, he attacked the evil monster with ruthless speed. Before the beast could react, he slammed his paw into the other lycan’s face, dragging his claws along the thick skin of his neck. The other beast roared in paw and reacted quickly, managing to dodge the next swift swipe of Khan’s claws, barreling into his chest. Surprised, Khan was thrown to the ground and punched in the snout before he could react. Stunned, he couldn’t even move as the lycan above him clasped his two paws together and brought them down on Khan’s chest.
Something cracked in his ribs as all of the air was violently expelled from him, a wheeze escaping his gaping maw. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even see straight through the sudden influx of both pain and panic. He was going to die. The lycan above him was too strong and quick for Khan to beat.
“Well, Luna bless me, this little runt is one stupid pup,” the lycan declared with toxic jauntiness. Grinning down at Khan, he began slowly pressing the young lycan into the ground, pain spiking as the injury was worsened. Leaning in, that foul grin sneering at Khan’s panic, the lycan asked, “Just what did you think you were doing?”
However, Khan only saw the opportunity presented to him as the other lycan’s jaws hovered just inches above his own. Inches, though, were exposing the lycan’s one weakness and Khan’s only chance at surviving.
Khan suddenly shot his own head forward, sinking his teeth into the lycan’s thick throat. Locked on, he clenched as hard as he could, his teeth clacking against the bones in the other lycan’s throat. He jerked instantly, ripping his head to the right with all the strength he had. There was a terrible sound as skin tore and bones popped apart, blood that had warmed Khan’s mouth suddenly spraying all over him in a visceral shower. Growling, he forced himself to sit up as he did so, feeling the other lycan’s head come completely free of its body.
Enraged, pain sharp as steel in his chest, he shook the disembodied head before letting it go mid shake, sending it soaring through the air. He didn’t see where it landed but heard the dull thud and the rustling of grass, telltale sounds of it rolling after impact. Grunting, he pushed the bloody, headless corpse of the monster off of him, a low but constant growl escaping him. Justice had been served.
Before he could finish getting to his feet, though, Leper suddenly pounced on him from behind, the scent of his friend identifying him even as his actions betrayed Khan. Confused, he hardly had time to realize he had been shoved to the ground face-first before he felt two sharp stings of pain as suddenly warmth overwhelmed him. His growl became a whine as he felt his body, in spite of the pain, rage, and fear, begin loosening up.
His last coherent thought was that maybe now he was learning what death was like.