//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: It's Actually Here // Story: I Would Smile if I Could // by Haku1013 //------------------------------// I trot through the woods. My woods. My forest. My home. My home is a large one, as it stretches far across the land. Many beings travel the roads that reside within my home, whether they be minotaurs, diamond dogs, griffons, ponies, or just simple animals that I share my territory with.They all travel the roads that reside in my home and, occasionally, they come across me. Or I come across them. I am not sure where my most recent encounter stands. One day I am a creature who stalked the night, fed on creatures of any variety, and lived in stories told by those who fear me. Then the next day, I find myself suddenly caring for what was supposed to be my next meal. The filly remains asleep, though it has been a great many hours since our initial encounter. I can only assume that to feel fear must be tiring. I take a moment to ponder as a I trot. Why had I not simply fed on the infant when presented the chance? Why had I bothered myself by saving this infant? Perhaps most importantly, what is to be done with her? I do not know the answer to any of these questions nor the many more that race through my mind. Movement on my back causes me to pause. I turn my head and am meet by deep purple eyes. The are wide and stare with no intent, but still I turn away. For the third time today I feel that strange feeling. I am at a loss of words upon how to describe it, other than that it feels... good? I do not know. I know what ‘good’ means, but I don’t seem to understand it. How can I? Everything I know comes from my observance of the world around me and though I have heard my prey speak of ‘good’ and ‘bad,’ I know only what is and what isn't. When I first came into this world, I was nothing more than the creatures I first hunted; ruthless, mindless, controlled merely by instinct. I did not know self-awareness. I did not know how to speak, how to think. Everything I can do comes from my experience with my world. I hunted my prey and I heard them speak. I thought nothing of their words for instinct told me to simply feed on them as soon as possible. I was a mindless creature, no better than the animals I now hunt when more suitable prey is unavailable. It was not until much later, many moons and sun after I came into this word, that I soon began to truly notice the world around me. I learned how to identify separate sounds, sights, objects. I grew and as I did I was able to taste fear. I grew to crave it. It was so very new and different to anything else I knew. It was better than even the chase of any sort of prey. Over time my mind also began to develop. Instinct was still there, even now it works with hunger to drive me, but I learned how to control it. I began to think, to rationalize, to understand. I learned how my prey worked and it was from there that I truly began to hunt, to search for the prey that would sustain me most. I even learned to mimic their sounds, their language. I learned how to speak, how to understand the spoken language. There are words and phrases I still do not understand, but I know that in time I shall have a full understanding of my prey. In the past, my primitive mind merely thought of speech as a way to get more fear from my prey, but I soon realized that my newfound ability to speak only worked for so long and that I needed to understand my prey furthermore. I contained myself from outright attack and instead observed them from a distance. I discovered that my prey required time for rest and quickly turned that knowledge into my favor. Tired prey that realizes it has no way of escape is always more fearful. I also learned of weakness. My prey was easy to hurt; a small trip on a rock there and they are unable to walk. A small fall and they break a bone. A small cut and they become infected. I am still unable to figure out why I do not suffer from such flaws, but it is not something I truly need to know. I can only conclude that I am a superior being and I so am above such flaws. Decaying sunlight suddenly struck me as I entered a new clearing. It was surrounded completely by a thick layer of trees, with the only entrance being the small gap I had just slipped through. At the edge stood a large rocky hill, a cave carved into its base. I had entered one of the many natural shelters that reside within my land. I am a creature that does not need rest, but even I have come to realize that the elements are not something to be fought. It is in places such as this that I reside in should the rain prove too strong, the heat too unbearable, or the forest’s blizzards too harsh. I look to the darkening skies, it being too soon for the night to come. Dark, ominous clouds move quickly, blocking out the sun of day. I feel the increasing amount of moisture in the air, the cooling of the atmosphere. Weak winds blows against my side. I feel a storm coming, In seconds, the sun is gone, but I move quickly. I enter the cave with soundlessly and lower myself onto a large bed of leaves. The infant on my back took this time to clamber off of me and proceeded to crawl around the dirt covered floor as if inspecting her new home. After a moment she let out a shrill giggle of what I assume to be approvement. The filly sat at the spot for a moment more with a small smile before letting out a small sneeze. Then her eyes began to glisten. This may be the first time I have cared for another being, but I have hunted enough infants to recognize crying. The natural sound of all young creatures is a terrible one indeed, their noise always traveling through my home. Of course, the screams did make the hunt for a young prey all the more easy, but that did not excuse the prey from interrupting the natural silence of the world. My thought’s move back to the teary eyed infant, who has by now moved to rest by my side. She shivers before looking up at me with large, round eyes. There’s that feeling again. Thunder suddenly goes off, causing the young filly’s eyes to bulge outward in fright. The fear radiating off of her calls to me. The filly was unable to so much as mewl before my appendages grabbed had a hold of her as fast as they could move, bringing her close to my head. I caught myself just before I consumed her whole. Thunder sounds off again and I place the filly down onto the ground, close to me as I have seen mothers do before. The filly would be cold as the temperature always drops when the weather changes as it has done now, and until I am unable to start a fire for her, my own body heat must suffice. I stare out of the cave and take note that I will have to leave soon if I want to make a source of warmth for the night. I turn away from the darkening outside world back to the filly by my side. She has once again fallen asleep, her small wings buzzing slightly and her breathing shallow. I move silently, careful not to awaken the sleeping filly. I step out of the cave to the cold wind blowing against my form, much stronger than it was before. The gale carries the scent of rain, proving me correct in my assumption. A few droplets begin to slowly fall, prompting me to move faster lest I get caught in the storm. Sunlight peers through the canopy in small rays, glittering the forest floor in random swirls of yellow. A bird call out from far above the canopy. I hear other birds reply, small scampering, the rustle of bushes and branches, and other woodland noises as I venture away from the cave I had been staying at for some time. It is my first venture out in quite a long time. For the past few days, I have been caring for the young filly I have taken. When I decided to take this filly, to care for her, I did not realize what I was doing. Every day, afternoon, and night has been filled with me hunting for the filly. I have never once thought just how much ponies ate let alone their offspring. It rained much more than usual on that first night with the filly. I had, luckily, managed to create a fire for her. However, the moment the heat began to warm her, she awoke and started wailing. I have lived for centuries. I have learned many things. I have adapted. I have hunted the impossible. I have even begun to feel new emotions that grow less foreign to me. But never before have I experienced such a thing as a wailing filly. Crying fillies, of course I am aware of; whenever I manage to hunt a filly, I always find them because of their cries, but never before have I heard a baby wail. I have since learned another new emotion, one I do know the word for, as I have heard my prey speak of it often; hate. I hate this new sound. It does nothing for me and yet it seems to do everything for her. When she first wailed, it was obvious that she was hungry by the noise emitting from her lower innards, a noise I’ve noticed in my prey when they hunger. I spent much of that night searching for food for her; berries, fruit, herbs, living prey, among other things. In the rain. With my newest emotion, I now know that I hate the rain. She discarded the prey and allowed them to scurry out of the cave, before I could catch them for myself. She gave the herbs and berries a few licks before displaying obvious distaste for them. She then went onto spend some time just staring at the fruit. I was not sure why until she stared at me with those large, hungry eyes that gave me that disturbing new feeling that I have yet to name. Eventually I was able to understand why the filly stared at me so. It became obvious when, most likely in annoyance with me, she began to nibble on my form that I noticed that she lacks and sort of teeth or claw. No doubt that she was still being, as the ponies said, weaned This would make matters quite complicated for the possible future. In the end, I had to use my own appendages, something about my being that’s meant for hunting or my own protection against some of the stronger beasts of the forest, to help make the fruit edible for the young filly. She fed on the fruit quickly before immediately resuming her sleeping position. She awoke several hours later, once again due to the thundering skies. I left her alone during her wailing, hoping that she would quiet down by herself. Unfortunately, she did not cease from the incessant noise making for some time. Once again, my appendages were put to use at something they were not meant for; rocking the filly asleep. It was during that time that I realized that all the time I spent hunting sentient prey, all the times I managed to hunt an infant, I had also been learning. I had been learning how to care for another being without even knowing it. And so I put forth my new skills to use. I cared for the filly for days, doing whatever needed to be done. However, I soon realized that by caring for the infant, I would be not be able to care for myself. I would not be able to hunt, to feed. So I decided to wait until the right time to leave. After several days, the filly finally decided to sleep during the day, leaving me with plenty of time to hunt on my own. The Hunger, something I’ve forced myself to try to ignore these past days, has increased ten fold. I need to hunt and feed. Now. I catch the scent of something. A deep, musky scent mixed with the smells of the deep earth. It’s a prey I have not had in quite some time, as it’s very hard to hunt when they’re 30 feet underground. I move fast, the hunger driving me towards the prey. The heat of the day moves through my form as I race through the trees, through the bushes, through the shrubbery and grass, none of them touching my being. My hooves barely touch the ground as I go forth through the hunt. The hunger drives me. It is all I feel within this moment. I stop behind a tree. I angle my head to look passed and watch as a diamond dog limps away, a broken spear acting as a makeshift cane. This prey is damaged, which makes it an easy hunt and an easy feast. I move quickly and my appendages move faster. The diamond dog does not know what hits it before it is entangled within my appendages. It tries to claw at my being, its spear is tossed to the ground, and I snap my appendages around it’s wrist, snapping it out of place before it can do any damage. It lets out howls of pain which only makes my hunger intensify in anticipation. I tighten my grip around my prey’s neck until it stops struggling. Immediately I begin to feed on the diamond dog, its fear more than enough to satisfy me for now. And then it does something I was not expecting; it speaks to me. “I... cannot die... please... spare me...” I do nothing except stare quietly at my prey. It begs me to spare its life? This mutt, this food, has the audacity to beg to me, a creature of hunger, for its life? All I seem able to do at this point is to stare at my prey. It stares back with such large and frightened eyes. The fear continues to radiate off of it, but it was not afraid of me nor was it afraid of its imminent death. It was afraid for something else. Its pack, perhaps? I do not loosen my grip on its neck. “Please... must... tell... danger... pack...” Danger? In my land? I loosen my grip, and the diamond dog falls to the ground, gasping for breath. It stares at me, clutching its own throat with tears in its eyes. “What danger do you speak of?” I question. I will not allow something dangerous within my territory, something which can bring more terror to my prey than I. It must be found and dealt with accordingly. The diamond dog seems surprised by my question, but does not hesitate to answer. “It was... a Leo Minor.” “Foolish,” I insult the diamond dog, “There has been not a single leo minor in these parts for centuries. I should know. I killed the last one.” It was true I had fought the leo minors and won. It was the only way to capture the dominance of the forest and so was necessary. At the time, I had been unaware of the legend of the leo minors, but over time I came to know it. The Great Leo Major was the father of all manticores. It gave them all life through the Hunt, something even I acknowledge as crucial to life. But in the beginning, the Hunt was not safe for the mighty manticores, as the prey known as Ponies, Diamond Dogs, and the such hunted them for their own protection, and so the Mighty Leo Major created a second race of sons; the Leo Minor. They are the guardians of the Hunt, and thus the guardians of all hunts performed under the skies. The legends explain that should a manticore’s hunt be dishonorably interrupted and taken from them, then justice would be brought forth unto the perpetrator by the leo minors. This entire forest was full of leo minors when I arrived, here to protect the Hunt of all hunters within the forest, but once I discovered the bountifulness of the prey, I decided to take it. The leo minors, though guardians of the Hunt, were not quick to allow me to hunt. They believed I was a threat to the Hunt, that I was not a natural being of this world and that I would only damper the Hunt. No, I had to kill them to take these hunting grounds for myself. I slaughtered them all, and eventually the last fell to my power. Never again have I seen a leo minor. So why a leo minor has appeared now, I do not know. “Yes, it caught me off guard,” the diamond dog explains, having now recovered from my attack, “but I was not what it was after. It spared me and I must now alert my pack.” The diamond dog moves to its knees and squats in a praying position, its claws clasped shut and its face down, its eyes presumably closed. “Please, I now beg the same from you, Great Hunter. Please, spare my life so that I may warn my pack.” Spare? Its life? Why would I ever spare the life of any creature? I hunted this prey fairly and I deserve to feed. Should I spare this prey I will be doing exactly what the leo minor represents: the ruin of the hunt. No... no, I will not spare this prey. The hunger drives me forward as quickly as I can move. My appendages move to the diamond dog’s legs and I lift the creature from the ground easily. It lets out of a squeal of surprise, but keeps its praying position. My appendages tighten around the prey’s legs and move to its neck. The diamond dog lets out squeals of pain as I begin to feed. I smell the fear, I taste the fear, radiating off the prey. Not the fear of me or of dying to me, but the fear of losing its pack... its family. An orange coat, purple maned filly rushes through my mind. The Hunger is strong, but I’m stronger. I place the diamond dog on the ground, where it lies gasping for breath for some time. I turn away from my prey violently, and speak, “Very well, but tell me this; where did you see this leo minor?” The diamond dog takes its time, trying to absorb what life is around it. After several moments of it gasping for breath, it responds, “It ambushed me to the north of here, near the Mighty Mountains of Celestia.” I nod my head, still facing away from the diamond dog, my prey. “Go,” I command it, “before I change my mind.” I hear slow, hesitant pawsteps, then the fast limping of my prey, then nothing. And I do nothing for some time. I feel the heat of the sun through the canopy above me. I hear birds that I did not notice go silent during my hunt. Leaves crunch under my hooves as I finally begin to move. I move north, following the diamond dog’s directions. Mighty Mountains of Celestia? Such trivial names my prey gives to my home. I do not understand the importance of names. I do not even have a name, so how can I? I continue moving north, toward the mountains... Northern mountains... ...The cave in which I have been living with the Filly are up north... I pause in my trotting. The leo minor was last seen near where I have been taking shelter and I did not notice it? Have I been so preoccupied with caring for the filly that I have not been paying attention to my surrounds? This leo minor could have very well been watching us from afar. It could be hunting us. It could be hunting her. Leo minors are masters of the hunt, being the children of the original leo major. They guard the hunt, guard the hunters of the forest. But should a hunt be interrupted in such a way that they deem dishonorable, then they hunt the perpetrators. I try to remember my long life in the past several weeks, try to find some clue as to why a leo minor would have any reason to hunt me or the filly. The filly... the night I was to feed on her, a young manticore attacked. I stopped the manticore’s attack prematurely. It retaliated, but I defended the filly. I killed the manticore for trying to hunt something which I hunted and discarded. If I had only fed on the filly after killing the manticore, something which I should had done even before the manticore attack, then maybe there would not be a leo minor here now. If it was not for my choices to save the filly then this would not be happening. I rush through the forest, barely touching the ground as I make my way back to the cave. Thoughts race through my head. Animals go silent as I pass them. A strange, familiar aroma fills the forest the closer I get to the cave. It is fear. But fear of what? The fear of loss, the fear of losing something important. It is a fear I have hunted many times. It is a fear that is radiating off of my form. I move quickly through my home, toward the cave in which the filly stays with me. I had left her alone, something that gives me another new feeling I’ve never felt. It is very different than the newly discovered Hate I can now feel, and the other feelings that I have yet to identify but have experienced in regards to the filly. I hate this newest feeling and so I do not dwell on it. I am close to the cave now, not surprising considering the speed I have been moving at. Something catches my eyes and I immediately stop moving. I am several steps from the cave now. There, on the ground... tracks. Old ones and large. Nothing native to the forest could have made tracks such as these. And so close to the cave... this only confirms my suspicions that I have been watched. I move slowly towards the cave, my own fear radiating off of me in great waves. I trot close enough to peer in. Nothing moves as nothing is in there. Nothing. Not even the filly. My newest feeling delves deep within my being, attacking my innards. My own appendages move on instinct and tear at my black form in defense, but it does nothing to stop this feeling. I fall to the ground as this feeling consumes me, unable to lift myself. I do not understand what is happening to me. There is a strange pain throughout me. The filly is now gone, most likely taken and fed on by the leo minor as vengeance against me. I can understand this. But why do such thoughts wound me in this manner? I think back to the fear I am radiating. Why do I feel fear? I am a being of fear. I feed on fear. I should not feel fear. All I feel, or should feel, is Hunger and Loneliness. That was before I hunted that accursed filly. Ever since I hunted her and began to care for her, I have been changing. I hate these changes. I hate the feelings I get when I am with the filly. I hate the newest feeling of lost I have. I hate that I can hate. I should not be able to feel hate. I should not be able to feel anything except Hunger and Loneliness. I remain on the ground for some time within my thoughts. My appendages continue to attack my being, trying to end the attack of all these feelings at once. What is happening to me? A sudden squeal of delight sounds behind me. I turn my head, the attack of my being coming to a sudden halt. There, outside the cave, she sits happily. The filly, in all her obtrusive orange coat, remains alive just outside the cave. She is unharmed and begins to move toward me. I find myself suddenly able to lift my own being up once more and I begin to move toward her, my form automatically healing itself from my own appendages attack. But I stop when I see that the filly is not alone. She in turn is stopped by a large, bright red tail. It carries her into the air and releases a cloudy magic around her. The filly, despite her hardest attempts, falls under the spell and into the hands of slumber. I stare in hate as the leo minor taunts me with the filly. It is large; larger than I remember them being. It is much taller than me, twice the size of an adult manticore. It resembles a manticore, but its pelt is a deep red. It lacks the scorpion tail and wings of a normal manticore, but its signature star covered pelt glistens even the in the dying sunlight of the day. It gently places the filly on the ground with its tail and proceeds to wait outside the cave. I know what it wants and it knows what I want. I plan on giving it what it wants. With my re-found ability to hold up my own being, I trot slowly out the cave and stand just outside its opening. With a nod of its head, the leo minor links itself to me, as they tend to do. It tells me what it wishes to say. It says that I have dishonored the Hunt, that I have forsaken the hunt for the filly, prey that I had previously discarded. As such, the filly became prey for a new hunter, a young manticore. But just as the manticore’s hunt was about to finish, I intervened. I killed the manticore unjustly, the leo minor explains, and I took my previously discarded prey, not to feed upon, but to care for. It tells me that it has been sent to watch me, to see if I am to be tested. It says that it has been watching me for some time and that it is amazed that a hunter such as I have dropped myself to my prey’s level. It says that it is disgusted with me for caring for the filly. It says that I have been forgiven for taking the forest from the previous dominant hunters, the previous leo minors. It tells me that they were weak and not fit to rule this forest. I am not weak and that is why I was allowed to hunt in these woods, in my home. It says that it is unfortunate that this must be done to a great hunter such as I. It says that now the only way to be forgiven once again is to fight for forgiveness. Or die trying. I do not understand anything this beast is telling me, except for the fight. I understand that perfectly. I take a defensive pose. The leo minor takes an offensive pose. Neither of us move for some time. So much time passes that the setting sun is just about go beyond the horizons, the twinkling stars start to show. The sun moves slowly. It finally sets fully and the sky darkens while star shine above us. Finally, the beast makes it move. It jumps high into the air, not needing a manticore’s wings to seemingly take flight, and dives for my being. I dash out of the way and my appendages strike out in all directions. The leo minor is fast and dodges my strikes almost with ease. It moves its own long tail like a sword, slashing at me at close range. It slashes upward on my being. I stagger back. I have been damaged. Wounded. My black pony form blinks in and out of existence, trying to heal, but it does not. I have never been damaged before, never like this. Not even the leo minor I killed were able to damage me like this, and this just happened simply from the leo minor’s tail. I do not let my thoughts slow me down. My appendages move quicker than before, and I move forward as fast as I can. The manticore steps back, dodging each of my moves effortlessly. How can such a large being be able to move so agilely? The leo minor steps on a small rock and loses its footing. I take the chance and dive forward, my appendages slicing through the air. I manage to successfully hit the minor several times across it’s face and it howls in pain. It raises one large paw and swipes at me in further response. This close, I am unable to dodge, and I’m swatted away as if I’m nothing. I go flying, spinning in the air several times, and hit the the ground hard. My eyesight goes spinning for a moment. I do not understand this. I have never fought like this. I have never been so weak. My thoughts are interrupted by the leo minor biting on my hind legs, picking me up in it’s massive maw, and swinging me like nothing. It smashes me against the ground several times, until I am once again sent flying. This time I land hard against a tree, snapping its trunk under the force of my landing. I fall into in a pile of broken wood and branches. In my daze, I look upward to the night sky. The stars glitter in the night sky with no moon in sight. Then I see it. The sky sign of the Mighty Leo Major. It shines brightly in the darkness. The Leo Major’s head seems to be in mid-roar, and it stands proudly on it’s hind legs, as if battling a worthy opponent. Just above it is the sky sign of the leo minor. It sit proudly above its father, shining even brighter, if possible. I pick my form up slowly, the damage I have taken extensive. I stare dizzily at the leo minor as it moves slowly toward me. It smiles at my damaged form and sways to the sides, taking turns at my left and right. It is hunting me. Sudden squeals fill our impromptu battle arena and I catch sight of the filly now released from the leo minor’s spells. It does not move, however, as if it is unable to. It cries when it sees me in my current position, but I ignore it for now. Suddenly I notice something else. I peer back up to the nightsky, to the sky signs. I notice the light beaming off the leo minor sky sign. From my current position, I can clearly see the light of the leo minor sky sign being absorbed by the leo minor’s pelt in front of me. This is why I am damaged as I am now; the leo minor is taking power from the stars themselves. Even now, I see that what damage I have inflicted onto the leo minor is healing as it absorbs the night sky’s light. If the leo minor draws power from the sky signs above it, then I know what I must do. I charge the leo minor as fast as I can, but it swipes a paw at me, sending me back to the demolished tree. I stay down for a moment and my appendages claw of the surrounding ground. One of them clutches a large enough tree branch and I hold it close to me. I suddenly feel the teeth of the leo minor bite into my being. The leo minor effortlessly throws me away once more, this time near the cave. I manage to catch myself before I hit the ground. I land sloppily on my hooves and I rush into my cave, still clutching the tree branch. I move as quickly as I can but still feel the leo minor move at a relaxing pace. It tells me that it is disappointed. It tells me that it expected a better fight from such a strong hunter. It tells me that it will end this swiftly and once I am discarded like the bad prey that I am, it will feed on the filly. I hate this leo minor. I finally reach the end of the cave. I fall hard against the cave walls, waiting for the leo minor. It smiles at me once more, telling me that it’ll enjoy the filly much more than I ever would. I clutch tightly to the tree branch. The leo minor jumps at me and my appendages move quickly to lift the tree branch. The leo minor’s eyes bulge as the branch impales it, and it releases a roar of pain. I see it trying to take in more light from the stars, but in my cave the night sky is blocked. Deep red blood covers my being as the leo minor becomes limp on top of me. It glares at me, hate in its eyes. It tries to lift its paws to claw at my being for a final time, but it is unable to so much as lift its tail now. It tells me that I’m weak. It tells me that I do not deserve to hunt in this forest. It tells me that I am now forgiven once again. And just like that, it is gone. The branch falls to the ground, covered in the leo minor’s red blood, which even now is beginning to dissipate, following the creature’s body to wherever it originated from. I stay on the cave ground for some time, but after a while I begin to take notice of the cries of an infant, its wais invading the space of the cave. I try to lift my form, but find the damage to be worse than I previously thought. Nevertheless, I carry on. My hooves seem to barely move under me as I struggle out of the cave. My appendages help me to balance and keep me from falling. The going is slow, but I eventually manage to make my way to the filly. The leo minor’s spell is gone from the filly, but it still doesn’t seem to be able to move. Once it sees me, however, it begins to crawl towards me, tears in its eyes and sobs in its throat. I make my way toward it also, but my appendages falter and I fall hard against the ground. I cannot move anymore. My form is damaged and broken. I stay on the ground, waiting for the infant to come closer. I dare not look at it. It is my fault that it was in this predicament. All infants, no matter the age, can feel fear. I know this and I understand it. Does this mean they can also feel hate? Does the filly hate me now for all this? I dare not look at it, in fear that it does. Small hooves gently grab hold of my neck. The filly huddles next to my broken form, tears beginning to soak through my black coat. I make no movement. The filly does not hate me. No, instead I can feel fear rushing off of the filly in rivers. The filly was afraid. I fear that the leo minor has left a bigger mark on it than previously thought. No, wait... this fear that radiates of the filly. It is not the fear of another creature, it is not the fear of dying. No, this fear is different. This is the fear that comes from losing something important. The filly was not afraid for itself, I discover, but instead was afraid for me. The filly stays holding onto my neck, fear radiating off of it. The filly was afraid for me. The filly was afraid for me. The filly was afraid for me. The filly was afraid for me. I feel that unnamed feeling once again, pounding in the center of my form. Why is this filly afraid for me? Why do I still have the feeling that I can not understand? She clutches tightly to my neck as I rest on the ground. The night sky shines brightly, I notice. The sky sign of leo major is bright in the darkness. Its claws are held high as it stands on its hind legs and it seems to be in mid-roar. It looks like a strong hunter. The leo minor, however, is no longer with it. It had, like my opponent, disappeared for the night, no longer to be seen for quite some time. I just stare at the night sky as the filly cries on my neck, but after some time, it was able to follow my gaze upwards. It no longer sobbed, nor radiated fear, but instead squealed in approval when it saw the Mighty Leo Major, shining in the night sky. Both the filly and I stayed in that position for a while, both of us admiring the night sky.