"Mommy!" The little blue colt hopped about the cave, his hushed voice straining in mock terror. "Mommy, help me." He grabbed at his throat and spun about. The cave was alight with mischief as the mares ushered their foals to the mouth of the cave for some much needed air, but this colt fluttered away from the group toward the cave left where another young pony sat with ears flattened against his head. Stream shook his head and shuddered the thin little wings on his back, flaring them out and feigning fright. "I can't fly, help me mommy." He jeered again. Mottled Shadow watched from where he was perched. Muzzle wrinkled, he had no where to turn but to the colt. Stream laughed in his gruff voice and flew over, doing flips in the air and twisting about. Gusts drew up around them and scattered dust and stones through the cave. It was sucked inside to blow out around the ponies collected at the front and a chorus of groans and spits came from them. Not bothering to notice, Stream flew his way to Mot's shelf against the cliff. He struck out a hoof to jab the poor colt in the shoulder. "Why do you even have wings if you can't use them?"
"So I can do this." Mot struck out a wing, smacking Stream in the jaw and sending him tumbling back down. Before he could get up, Mot glided to the floor and trotted down the rocky path toward the divide. "Stupid little..." He grunted and walked along the ledge near the falls. Its crashing sound drowned away his hoofsteps the closer he came to it until he was directly beside it. A soft spray leaped through the air, collecting the stars so that it glittered brilliantly. The crisp, cool wind drifted about him and ruffled his fur, the million tiny droplets sinking down to his skin and cooling him. He shivered slightly, relishing the feeling. The air was clearer here, fresh and untainted. He sat on the cold rocks and breathed in the fresh air. The night moved around him. It swayed with the sighing of the wind, the distant rustle of the trees, the crashing of the waterfall. The pool down below flowed away into some great river he knew he would never find the end of. It snaked its way into the forest and disappeared.
The stars above glared brighter and the moonlight grew harsher. Mottled Shadow opened his eyes and stretched, standing and looking around. The moon was beginning to fade as the light of the sun just barely touched the horizon. It stretched across the sky, now only a faint haze of light. Broken from his stupor, he stood and started back toward the mouth of the cave and wondered if the stallions returned from their hunt. Pausing, he turned to look when a shadow caught his eye. He whipped around and looked up the mountain to a sHort divide in the path. One led back the way he came and the other curved sharply into the mountain, twisting and angling up. The figure disappeared into the tunnel just as his eyes caught it.
Mot turned, his ears perked. He had never taken this path before. It twisted into the rock and curved in a sharp incline, delving into a thick darkness that even the moon could not reach. Cautiously, he tipped his head forward and took a few steps. Dank, musty air drifted softly across his face as he moved, the ends of his fur dampening as it brushed against the narrow rock. Climbing further into abject darkness, he relied on the shivering of each strand of hair to guide him through until a faint sliver of moonlight came into view. The rumbling of the massive metal monster disturbed the stone around him and the tunnel quaked. Loose rock rained down upon him as the train shot out so close he could almost feel the bout of wind it threw out. He bolted, tearing into his shoulder as he clawed his way out of the almost collapsing tunnel and onto a short shelf of a cliff edge. It was barely large enough for two ponies and the moonlight slanted against it in a way that cast shadow over the very end. It narrowed out to the side and jumped up.
There, the bright green canopy blossomed into sight. In the last stretches of moonlight, he saw it. The tall, twisted trunk bursting from the stone. Its thin, drooping limbs. Roots that struck out of the ground and dived back through the earth to pass through the cave below it and shelter the ponies it helped sustain. The Giving Tree. His mother had always told him of the mighty Giving Tree, its magic sustaining the colony in the short winter months when food was scarce. It struck out from the ground, bush like leaves surrounding it nearly to the bottom and twisting limbs, some stretching, barren, into the Black night sky. A few shriveled, dull yellow apples hung limp from the branches, surrounded in the same brown, orange leaves that coated the floor. Mottled Shadow stared at the strange bush-like tree until the figure within its canopy came into view.
"Silver Vice?"
The batpony froze and whipped around. The hairs along his shoulders stood on end until his eyes rested on Mot. They instantly relaxed and a quivering grin split his face. "Oh, Mottled Shadow. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?" He shifted his weight, turning to look up at the tree.
Mottled Shadow followed his gaze, cocking his head to the side. "Mom hasn't called me in yet." Looking up at the wide orange canopy, he spotted a few green apples clinging to its branches. His stomach churned uneasily and his ears fell back. "Th-the apples shouldn't be ready. Not for a while. Right?" He stepped back, shifting his wings.
"Oh, it won't be too long, I don't think." Vice nodded and turned from the colt. The trunk stretched tall above him, the limbs striking out above and twisting down. It enveloped the trunk as though it would draw the ponies in to it. Those arms waved gently in the wind. Leaves whispered to them, pushing Mottled Shadow closer to the ledge and urging Silver Vice closer to its base. "Perhaps now, Mot. Are you hungry?"
The very word set off a rumbling in his belly that was almost audible. Ears snapping back, he shifted his wings around him and edged toward his elder. "I think Roajel and them would be back by now. He... He promised me some dry roots." A quiver ran through his body as the wind gusted and rattled through the leaves around them. A few took to the breeze and drifted away. "I-I'll share them with you. If you like."
Grey eyes cast down to the floor and a twisted smile crossed his face. "Roots," he breathed heavily, nodding his head. "Very well. Roots." They passed each other briefly as Mot sat rooted to the spot. Their coats brushed and through it Mottled Shadow could feel the strain in his abdomen, the slight bulge of his fur beneath his ribs. A low, squeal sounded off between them.
As the stallion disappeared through the tunnel, Mottled Shadow again turned his gaze to the tree. Another leaf dislodged and drifted away from its branch, casting out into the wind and fluttering away out of sight. The moon dipped down below the horizon beyond it and the stars gradually faded from the sky. With its last stretches of light, he turned his back on the cliff and braved the pitch darkness of the tunnel once more.