//------------------------------// // Bats in the Orchard // Story: My Big Batty Not-Wedding // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// “Well, this wasn’t exactly what I was hopin’ for,” Applejack remarked quietly, a ways away from the dining table outside. She’d set up everything she had to, drizzled the salads to perfection, and given the invitations to whomever she’d figured would accept, though obviously not in that particular order. All that was left was to serve everything. Mister and Missus Cake were there, which in turn made for a good excuse to exclude Pinkie Pie from the gathering, if only to avoid upsetting the rousettes with any loud noise. Leading Lady, the mayor, had been more than happy to turn up, both to socialise with some of her more elusive constituents and be a buffer between the communities. Finally, Derpy had been thrilled to accept because she was curious to hear why exactly she always had to turn over any letter meant for Tuber Lane to Thunderlane. Derpy was very strict on her deliveries, after all, and for all his virtues, Thunderlane wasn’t a postal pony. If he was going to drag her record down, and he had, she wanted to know the reasons The rousettes that had accepted the invitation were a nice enough bunch as well. Aside from the large, loud and intimidating Lord Nox, a young couple had turned up: Trip Wire and Sunset Red. Trip was a blue-ish grey stallion -- Applejack made a mental note to ask what rousettes call their males and females, if they didn’t use pony terms for it -- with a short mane and tail, both of which were brushed neat and flat. Sunset Red was that rarest breed of rousettes: one that wasn’t a reddish shade of grey but a greyish shade of red. Her coat was indeed coloured like the very sunset that was happening that instant, and her mane was more of a greyish autumn brown. Her mane style wasn’t that far off from Derpy’s or Applejack’s, but it was cut shorter than either. Presumably the pair were Night Guards. Not that Applejack, or any of the ponies present, would know, because the three rousettes and four ponies didn’t talk to each other. The ponies were talking amongst themselves, mostly the Cakes talking about their adorable but tricky to manage twins, while the rousettes were preoccupied with whatever exploits Lord Nox had had to pull to make peace between dragons and buffalo, and dragons and goats, and dragons and some strange species of talking panda. From the sound of it, Ponyville had gotten lucky in having only one dragon to contend with, and a fairly well-mannered one at that. Applejack grumbled at the sight of the ponies and rousettes sitting in their own little corners. “Well, we can’t have this.” “How do we get ponies and rousettes to talk to each other?” Apple Bloom asked. Applejack looked to Big Macintosh on her right, then Granny Smith on her left. “Okay, time to start servin’ the appetisers. Apple Bloom, you remember what I said after the Running of the Leaves? And after that Mare Do Well thing?” Apple Bloom pondered it for a moment. “Do as you say, not as you do?” “That’s the one. Your big sis is about to do another somethin’ you should never do yourself.” “What’s that?” Applejack snorted and picked up the dishes. “The old Apple Family peace offering. Granny, get the good glasses. Big Mac, fetch the cider.” Scootaloo sunk into the couch. Her mom hummed a merry tune as she went back and forth, getting the snacks ready for a nice, cozy evening in front of the television. Her dad sat at the living room table, checking the numbers and sunshine schedules for cities all over Equestria, going over the numbers one last time. The girl felt a heaviness descend over her head. Her stomach started to grow a knot, and she could feel the blood draining from her face. Her arms were getting heavy, and she found herself sighing for some reason. She sunk into the couch more. “M-mom?” She tried, letting out another sigh. As Rain Dancer went back to the kitchen to get some glasses, Scootaloo found the walls of the room spinning. “I know, sweetie, I’ll get you your lemonade.” The girl felt a headrush wash over her. When it passed, her face was soaked. Her whole body felt damp with sweat, and the heaviness in her head had turned into an insistent throbbing. Her mouth went dry, and her breath slowed. “M-mom?” Scootaloo croaked, sighing again despite herself. She tried to move, to get out of the couch, but her hooves couldn’t find the traction, they just passed through the cloud like jelly. “I-I don’t fuh-feel so good.” Sun Dancer looked up from his paperwork. Rain Dancer quickly put down the glasses and dashed towards her daughter. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you alright?” She kissed her daughter’s forehead to check the temperature. “Honey, you’re cold. What’s the matter?” Scootaloo blinked hard again to try and clear her mind. “U-um fuh-falling, mom. I-I can’t fuh-feel my wings.” Sun Dancer walked over to her. “Scootaloo, can you sit up straight?” The filly shook her head. “No. I’m f-falling…” Rain Dancer grabbed her daughter by the arms before the girl could sink into the clouds any further. “Sun, this isn’t normal. She’s covered in sweat, she’s sick. Something’s draining her magic, she’ll fall through the floor at this rate.” “Scootaloo?” Sun Dancer tapped the girl’s chin slightly. “Scootaloo, honey, can you hear me? Can you breathe? Do you need water, or sugar? Do you need a hug, maybe?” Something twitched in the filly’s stomach, like she was trying to gag. Rain Dancer hugged her tight just in case that helped. Scootaloo groaned. “I hear you, dad. I can’t muh-move, I’m burning up and freezing at the same time. My wings, they hurt…” Sun Dancer and Rain Dancer checked those little wings. They felt so cold to the touch it was like they were frozen. Sun Dancer shook his head. “Okay, I’m going to go grab a blanket and then we’re taking you to see Twilight. Just stay awake, okay? You’ll be fine.” Scootaloo found herself nodding off, but her mom shook her to keep her awake. She sipped a glass of lemonade she hadn’t realised was being offered to her, just on the off chance she needed sugar. It didn’t do much. “Okay. Stay awake. I can do that… I think.” The Apple family was known for its celebrations, of course. The Sisterhooves Social, the annual turkey-calling contest, the regular family gathering where ponies outside of the family were invited -- though occasionally they’d end up becoming part of the family a little while after -- yes, the Apple family knew how to host a gathering. But this one was different from the others. Where normally Applejack and her kin could count on a relaxed atmosphere to start a conversation and keep it going, the mix of rousettes and ponies seemed to form somewhat of stumbling block. Which is where the cider came in, of course. Applejack wasn’t fond of cheating, but when it came to awkward gatherings, she recognised the importance of proper social lubrication. It wasn’t too hard a cider, but hard enough for the occasion. All the ponies and rousettes had scooted closer together after a few sips, and now Lord Nox was set to entertain his pony audience as well as Trip Wire and Sunset Red. Lord Nox cleared his throat after another brief sip of the cider and gulping down the last of the entrees. Applejack tensed. Everyone had their food and drink now that the main course was served. The sliced carrots and cucumbers would surely go nicely with the cherry tomatoes and apple slices, the goat’s cheese was fresh, and Lord Nox had advised her that rousettes liked olive oil, so the food should be to everyone’s liking. Still, no rousette had spoken to a pony, aside from the hosts. Nox was about to address the mayor, smiling that toothy smile of his. And then the police showed up. “Nectarine! Just the bat I was waiting for. Grab a seat and dig in. Oh, and you must try the cider, it’s a delightful accompaniment to the meal, and a most wondrous aperitif,” the big rousette was practically roaring by now. Nectarine was dressed in her Night Guard uniform, standard Royal Guard plating with a slightly different colour scheme, and the shape of an eye over her chest. Judging from that and what the Night Guards had been wearing last Nightmare Night, apparently the eye meant something to them. Rin was also armed now. She carried a dagger right where her cutie mark of a dripping dagger would have been. Still, the mare  -- again, assuming that’s what the bats called their females -- looked very proper and even pretty, by Apple standards. Applejack could see why Thunderlane would want to hang out with them. “I’m afraid I can’t try the cider, Lord Nox.” Nectarine sat down in front of the last plate with a lot of aplomb and grabbed a piece of bread from the basket Granny Smith was reaching out to her. “Thank you. I’m not allowed to drink while I’m on duty, remember?” Lord Nox looked back towards the mountains. “I see. And if I recall correctly, that would be until the sun no longer reaches the tip of those hills there, right?” Everyone looked at the hills in question. When they turned their heads back, Nectarine had taken a good, long sip of the cider. She licked her lips and smirked. “Sure, give or take a few minutes.” Everypony -- and every bat -- chuckled and dug in. Silence fell for a moment, before Lord Nox remembered what he was going to ask the mayor. “Ah, Missus Mayor, I’ve been meaning to ask about the customs around here. I’m told Ponyville has some rather quaint annual traditions. What can I expect from my stay here? My fellow kinsbats were quite scant on details.” Applejack’s ears perked for just second. Kinsbats. Okay, that’s a word now. Trip and Sunset nearly choked on their food when Nox mentioned the lack of information coming from them. Clearly this guy was a big deal among their kind, even besides the obvious title. “Oh, goodness, where do I even start? Well, we do have the Summer Harvest Parade coming in a few weeks. And then there’s the Sisterhooves Social, the annual turkey calling contest, the Running of the Leaves in autumn, and of course Hearth’s Warming Eve and Winter Wrap-Up, but I’m sure you know those by now. Come to think of it, Applejack, will you be hosting another Iron Pony competition this year?” Applejack winced before swallowing another bite of her salad. “I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s any real way to make it fair without turning it into a rodeo, and if we’re gonna do that, it ain’t an Iron Pony competition anymore.” Lord Nox furrowed his brow before working down another honey-drizzled piece of goat’s cheese. “You host the events of Ponyville?” Applejack nodded. “Oh, a couple, yeah. Me and my family, we’re pretty well-known around these parts, and I think everypony in town’s been around here at least once, and every donkey I’ve seen in Ponyville, too. Heck, even Zecora comes by sometimes to restock on some herbs.” Nox mumbled as he chewed, unashamed about talking with his mouth full. “Zecora? Who’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard that name yet.” “She’s a zebra, and a medicine mare. Taught little Apple Bloom here a thing or two about makin’ potions,” Granny Smith explained. “Don’t ask how, though.” Nox swallowed his bite, leaned back in surprise and, like everything he did, he did it with a flair for drama. “Really? There’s a zebra all the way out here? In Ponyville?” Nectarine shook her head. “No, Milord, Zecora lives in the Everfree Forest.” Nox nodded knowingly. “Ah, suppose she would.” The ponies were all confused at that. Apparently Nox had had enough dealings with zebras to know what was normal for one. “Well then, it sounds like Ponyville is quite an exemplary tight-knit community.” Applejack chuckled nervously. “Err, yeah, it is. That’s kinda why I was so surprised to hear y’all were livin’ in Ponyville for as long as you have with nopony noticin’.” Big Mac, Granny Smith, and Apple Bloom all went quiet. The Cakes, the mayor, and Derpy followed suit. All the ponies looked anxiously at the rousettes. Trip Wire looked up. Having stayed quiet so much, he was nearly finished with his meal, though Big Mac made sure the rousette stallion had plenty of cider. The liquor wasn’t hard enough to be worried about yet, anyway. Lord Nox arched an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean, Miss Applejack?” “Well, it’s just that we didn’t know we even had rousettes in town. It was kind of a surprise to hear.” Leading Lady nodded and turned to Nectarine. “To tell you the truth, Rin, I always thought you had at least introduced yourself to the Apples, being the local Captain and all.” Rin hadn’t said a word before finishing her meal. She dabbed her lips with a napkin and shrugged. “It was never necessary. My predecessor never did, nor did his predecessor.” The ponies fell silent again. Mister Cake cleared his throat. “But, err, I thought you were the police. Shouldn’t you be available for policing, then?” Nectarine gave a nervous chuckle. “Ah, my job description is a little more complicated than that, but rest assured I am doing my duty. We all are.” “Without anyone knowing who you are or where they can reach you,” Derpy remarked. Lord Nox looked from one side of the table to the next, sensing the tensions mounting. He carefully sipped some more cider before turning to Granny Smith. “Tell me, Missus Smith, how long have you lived in Ponyville?” “Since before it was founded, and that was… oh, how long ago wazzat now?” “And you did not know rousettes lived in this town?” “Honestly? I didn’t even know there were ponies with bat wings ‘till last Nightmare Night. I just figured they had a spell on’em or somethin’.” The old mare shrugged. Nox chuckled. “My, my. I’m impressed. You run a very tight ship, Miss Nectarine.” Rin smiled. “Thank you, Milord.” “I don’t follow,” Mister Cake said. “Night Guards operate in secret,” Sunset Red explained. “We’re not a proper police force; we’re closer to the military than we are to the justice system, and we, the ones at the city level, mostly respond to monster threats. The highly ranked Night Guards, the national level, do black ops, nighttime operations, but most of our work is still peaceful. We do apprehend criminals from time to time, but mostly that’s a Royal Guard duty, not ours. The point is: since we do so much night work by nature, we rousettes consider stealth one of the greatest assets one can have, even a virtue, part of humility. Most of our children’s holidays involve presents left by a creature that never shows itself, for example. We consider being unnoticed while doing good a good thing in and of itself, you might say. It’s a cultural thing.” Apple Bloom frowned. “But what kind of work do you do, then, if nopony’s ever seen you do it?” “Apple Bloom, behave,” Applejack chided her. “Sorry, my little sister’s kinda curious.” “It’s alright, AJ.” Rin unsheathed the dagger on her waist. She held it up, showing off the markings carved into it. “See this? This is a runic dagger. Say the right incantation, use the proper magic, and it can carve through dragonhide like butter. Say another incantation, and it becomes covered in a blue flame that freezes the blood of a changeling, forcing it into hibernation but leaving it alive. And then, of course, there’s one to defend against Windigos.” “Windigos?” Apple Bloom quirked an eyebrow. “Why would you need to defend against Windigos? They ain’t been a problem since the first Hearth’s Warming Eve.” Rin stared at her dagger, lost in thought before sheathing it again. “Oh, they can be a problem all right. We had a few not too long ago, even, causing accidents and sowing misfortune all over the place. Missus Mayor asked us to solve it, and solve it we did.” Trip and Sunset nodded with a wince. “And when was this, exactly?” Applejack asked. “A few months ago. Right around the time that Mare Do Well character showed up, actually. Good thing, too; those Windigos were powerful devils.” Sunset nodded emphatically. “Very. We had to wrangle them up and take the fight up high.” “Those things put up one heck of a struggle. It’s weird, you’d think a town like Ponyville doesn’t give them any feeding grounds. They must have fed off some petty grudges or something, a lot of petty grudges,” Trip noted. Applejack felt a knot form in her stomach. A change of subject seemed appropriate right about now. “Oh, right, of course. So it’s not so much that you don’t mix with ponies, it’s just that your job is done in secret and you think secrecy is like honour?” The Night Guards all smiled broadly. Rin nodded. “Yes, yes, exactly that.” Nox gestured to Applejack. “D’oh, it’s nothing personal, mind you, it’s just that before the tribes united, ponies cast a curse on our race. Several, actually. Our history’s been one full of secrecy and, well, just trying to stay out of everyone’s hair, really.” Derpy tilted her head. “Wait, so rousettes and ponies don’t make friends, ever?” Rin turned to Nox, Sunset, and Trip. The Captain shrugged. “Not usually, no. We have our ways, you have yours. Our way is not yours. We live separately, so it just doesn’t happen.” Missus Cake smiled coyly. “Oh? What about Thunderlane then, dear?” Rin’s jaw clenched. “How do you know about Thunderlane?” “I did hear you all lived in Tuber Lane, and Thunderlane is the one in charge of that area. The Weather Patrol meets up at Sugarcube Corner sometimes, they bring it up all the time. Ponies always ask to take over from Thunderlane, he never lets them, and he never tells anyone why he insists on sticking to it. He must be very close to you and your kind, then? You must know him, at least. In your function, I mean, dear.” Next to her, Sunset and Trip desperately looked for an excuse to not say anything, but found their plates empty and their glasses likewise devoid of any excuse to stay quiet. Nox grumbled to himself, though whether he was amused or annoyed was hard to tell. Rin gulped as Granny Smith and Big Macintosh took everyone’s empty plates away. “Err, well, Thunderlane is… Thunderlane and I are, ah…” Scootaloo was barely awake when her parents entered the library. She vaguely recognised the voices of Twilight, Spike, and Rarity. No one else was around, and all three of them knew Scootaloo’s secret, so that was a relief. Scootaloo groaned when Twilight put the back of a hoof on her forehead. The unicorn said something, but Scootaloo didn’t quite catch what. “She’s slipping. Maybe we should take her to a hospital,” Rain Dancer started. Rarity put her front hooves up. “Calm down, darling, I’m sure everything will be all right. You are Scootaloo’s parents? I’m Rarity, pleased to meet you.” She extended a hoof in greeting, which was just enough of a distraction to let Twilight lift Scootaloo up and put her on some pillows. “Sun Dancer, this is Rain Dancer. Pleased to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances,” Sun Dancer clenched his jaw, clearly holding back his frustration. Twilight took Scootaloo’s pulse and smelled her breath. “Weak pulse, no abnormal smell. Did she eat anything strange, do anything out of the ordinary?” Both pegasi shook their heads. Rain Dancer suppressed a sob. “No. She’s been doing everything she normally does, and she hasn’t changed her diet at all, either. I mean, we hug her and we love her, she can’t be starved of love or food, so what else is there?” Twilight sighed. She wracked her brain for an answer. “Okay, let me think. She’s not diabetic, or we’d smell it. She’s not starved of love, or her colouration would shift. She’s not overcharged, either, or she’d be sparking. Maybe she has enough love, but not the right kind.” A spasm went through the filly’s body. Spike jumped up. “I’ve got it! She needs a date!” Rarity furrowed her brow while Spike rushed off. “Darling, I don’t think finding a boy at this hour is the right answer.” Spike came running back in with a piece of fruit in his claw. “Not a date, a date. Here, Scootaloo, eat this.” He held the date in front of the changeling’s mouth and put an empty dish on the ground. She carefully took a bite and munched it down. It was sweet, sickeningly so, and it tasted heavy, even mushier than bananas. Her stomach groaned as she swallowed the bite down. But it did make the pounding in her skull stop. She carefully rolled over and stood up to take another bite. Spike breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed it was working. “I’ve got a whole basket in the kitchen. Want me to get another one?” Scootaloo found her strength returning and took the date in her hooves. “Y-yeah, thanks, Spike.” Twilight, Rarity, and the Dancers sat down close to her. Twilight checked the girl’s pupils for any dilation. “You okay now, Scootaloo? Do you know where you are, who’s with you?” Scootaloo nodded. “I’m in Ponyville Library, and you’re here, and Spike’s here, and Rarity’s here. And my mom and dad are here. I don’t think I passed out, but something went wrong really bad.” She took one final, big bite of the date and munched it down, carefully putting the seed aside on the dish Spike had set up. “What happened?” Twilight asked. “I don’t know. My head started pounding, and my arms felt heavy all of a sudden. My magic went out, too.” “Have you ever felt like that before?” The girl shook her head. “No. Well, maybe. Like, when I’m doing a lot of homework, and if it’s really hard and I get hungry from thinking so hard. It felt kinda like that. I don’t think I’ve been thinking that hard. But I don’t think I should be thinking about that now if it’s making me sick.” Spike came back with the bowl and handed her another one. “You gotta be more careful, Scootaloo. You need to practise your magic, or else you’re going to end up all dizzy, and then your stomach’s going to start twitching and you could start barfing fire all over the place!” The Dancers looked at the dragon. It finally dawned on the ponies how Spike knew what was wrong when they hadn’t. “But if it’s my magic, then shouldn’t my horn hurt? You know, even if I’m not wearing it right now?” Scootaloo rubbed her still bare forehead. “Not if the magic that’s unbalanced isn’t in your horn. You just had a convulsion in your abdominal area. And there is one kind of magic that’s rooted there that you’ve probably been neglecting.” Twilight winced as she reached the only logical conclusion. Scootaloo’s whole body sagged. She shook her head. “No, come on. You can’t tell me that, not now. I’ve done everything right so far.” “Have you been hiding this, Scootaloo?” Twilight asked. The girl let out a dejected sigh. “Maybe a little. I thought I’d be fine.” Rain Dancer felt her heart quicken. “I’m sorry, what exactly are you saying? What just happened to my daughter?” Twilight gulped. “What happened is… well, when you neglect to use certain muscles, they start to degrade. And some muscles, when they haven’t had any exercise at all, and I mean total lack of movement, just complete stillness for too long, they umm, they start to twitch.” Sun Dancer pondered it for a moment. “Wait, so Scootaloo nearly fainted because her magic was twitching?” “Sort of. Magic is like the mind, or the soul, flexing its muscles. And like any muscle, if it’s left completely immobile for too long, it starts to suffer decay. To stop that, some muscles will convulse uncontrollably from time to time. Only, magic doesn’t involve muscle action, but mental action. She hasn’t been using her magic, so her mind tried to do it for her, and without conscious control she ended up burning out a lot of energy.” Twilight explained. Rain Dancer shook her head. “But Scootaloo has been practising her magic since she changed. She can fly now, she meditates every now and then, she’s even levitated the dishes. What else is there?” Twilight sighed. “Do you want to tell them, Scootaloo, or should I?” “I don’t want to. I don’t get it myself.” The girl let her head hang. “All right, then. The reason Scootaloo had her little episode here is because she hasn’t fed off love.” “But that’s ridiculous,” Rain objected. “We’ve given her plenty of our love, she’s fed off the admiration of her classmates. She races and feeds off of what her classmates feel.” “Yes, she’s been feeding passively, without using any magic of her own. But whatever it is that makes changelings require love has been activated now. Like, when you get larval stages of certain animals, they’re not born with fully functioning stomachs. It takes time for certain parts of the body to degrade. That’s what’s happened: Scootaloo’s love stomach, if you can call it that, is active now. It is still just magic, but it’s a part of her. It’s part of her bodily functions that’s not going to go away. If she doesn’t start feeding actively, this will happen again.” “Can’t I just keep eating these things?” Scootaloo held up what was left of the date. “Sorry, no,” Spike replied. “Dates just give you the sugar you need when your brain’s been burning it off without you knowing it. That’s why your head feels like you’ve been reading a lot: your brain’s trying to do magic out of control. But on top of that, dates fill up your stomach, a lot, so your head gets less focused on magic and more focused on what’s going on in your stomach. It can keep you going, but you need to flex your magic or this is going to keep happening. It’s the same thing when I don’t breathe fire for a few weeks: I get sick and I start to throw it up by accident.” Scootaloo let her disguise fall, revealing her black, leathery skin and that dagger-like horn. Her wings buzzed just once, before she swallowed the second date. “Are you sure there’s no other way?” Rarity patted the girl on the back. “Sorry, darling. Unicorns get this all the time, as well. We just have different magic to worry about.” Sun Dancer put his hoof in front of his daughter. “Go on, drain me. Big guy like me, you won’t even make me dizzy.” “No, I’ll do it,” Rain Dancer copied the motion. “If I have to take a day off, everypony’ll think it’s just mare troubles.” Twilight cleared her throat. “Umm, just so we’re clear here: the object isn’t how much love Scootaloo can drain from either of you. The object is for her to perform the act of draining.” The Dancers stared blankly at the unicorn. “That means it doesn’t matter how much she eats, but how hard and how long she can chew. You’re agreeing to let her feed until she’s tired, not ‘till she’s full. That’s why she’s not in her disguise; she can’t afford to feed passively while she does this. On the bright side, it’s only magic. You can avoid this if you learn other forms, get your brain to flex harder every now and then, work your energies more. You’ll probably need to get more from passive feeding, but as long as you practise any kind of magic, anything that involves your new abilities, you won’t pass out like this again.” Twilight smiled nervously, to just try and offer a silver lining. “You do need to fill up now, though. If this is your body’s reacting to magic inactivity, you’re not going to recover if you don’t feed right now.” “But I don’t know how to give energy back yet,” Scootaloo replied. “I don’t know when I’m hurting anyone.” “You will. I’ve been reading into it, it’s not that hard once you get the trick to it. You can work around this on the long term, but right now you need to feed.” “I don’t know,” Scootaloo said, looking to her parents. “I don’t want to hurt you. And how do you know I won’t just feed off how they feel already?” “Drain me, then.” Spike extended his claw towards the changeling. Rarity had to stop herself from gasping. “Spike? Are you sure?” “Sure I’m sure. I’m not related to her, and I’m not any more than a friend, so she won’t feed off that. Plus, I’m a dragon, so she probably can’t do that much damage to me even if she tried.” Twilight grimaced. “I don’t know, Spike, you’re only a baby dragon, and we don’t know that much about your magic, either. Do you understand what risk you’re taking here? She could knock you out for days.” “Exactly, that’s why it should be me in the first place. I take eight-hour naps all the time, remember? If I get knocked out, nopony’ll notice.” As much as Twilight worried about the dragon, he did have a point. Scootaloo gulped as her stomach grumbled. “Okay, Spike, if you’re sure.” “Hold on, Scootaloo. Just one more thing: is that your real form?” Rarity asked. The girl stopped dead in her tracks. “Yes, that is what she normally looks like,” Rain Dancer replied. “Why, what’s the problem?” “Oh, I mean no offense, darling. It’s just that I couldn’t help but notice her tail is at least three inches longer than it normally is and her legs seem to have shrunk.” Scootaloo shivered. Neither her parents nor Twilight had noticed, but Rarity was used to closely inspecting ponies’ sizes and proportions. “Um, can I just try to feed so I don’t get sick again?” Sun Dancer took a step closer. “Scootaloo, are you still hiding something?” “Well…” Spike took a step back. “Are you?” “It’s okay, sweetie,” Rain Dancer cooed. “We just need to know so you’re okay.” Scootaloo took a deep breath. “You said this is my love stomach acting up, right?” Twilight nodded. “That’s what started it. Your brain then tried to kickstart your magic, and that’s why you’re exhausted. What do you not understand?” “Umm, just suppose for a second that my love stomach isn’t the only thing that’s gotten started. Would that be bad?” Twilight tilted her head, thinking. “What are you saying, Scootaloo? Have you noticed anything different?” The changeling sighed. “It happened a few weeks ago, after I started hanging out with Rumble. I thought it would go away, but it’s gotten, umm, bigger.” “And what exactly is it?” Rain Dancer asked. The girl gulped. “Promise you won’t freak out?” Everyone nodded. Scootaloo let out another deep sigh and covered herself in green flame, for just a split second. When it cleared, the room went quiet as the grave. Twilight’s eyes went wide with shock. “Ho-ho-hokay, this… this might complicate things.” Applejack nearly slapped herself after that remark from Missus Cake. Nectarine was obviously sensitive about her relationship with Thunderlane, why else would they both keep it a secret? He was her boyfriend, that had to be it. That’s why the mayor had warned Applejack about him, that’s why his family was so close to rousettes. And now it was out in the open. Poor Rin was going to lose face in front of the rousette Lord, in front of her subordinates. “Oh, Thunderlane’s practically one of us,” Trip interjected. There came that remark again, that ponies who were friends with rousettes were not really ponies at all. Carrot Cake quirked an eyebrow. “Really?” Sunset Red nodded in agreement. “Of course. He always manages the weather over our residences, he mingles with our kind, he partakes in our traditions, he’s a fine lifemate for our Captain and we appreciate him.” Rin blushed. “Thank you.” “Your lifemate?” Applejack asked. “Yes, lifemate. It’s a tradition we have,” Rin explained. Sunset smiled warmly at her Captain. “Exactly. As far as we’re concerned, Thunderlane’s just another bat like us.” Derpy scratched her head. “Wait, you mean you think Thunderlane is a bat? But he’s a pegasus pony. Even if you think you’re bats, which, you know, is fine and all, you can’t just say a pony is a bat. Unless he’s mentioned it, maybe, but I’ve known him for a long time and he never talked about it.” “It’s a cultural thing,” Nectarine explained. “He and I are… well, we’re close, and to be close to rousettes one needs to adhere to our rules and traditions. Thunderlane does, we’re both very happy that way, and we’re practically married by now, but not officially. Not yet, at least.” “And Thunderlane does all the Weather Patrol work over your houses? No other Weather Patrol pony goes over your street, ever?” Derpy asked. Trip nodded. “Sure. Why, every rousette knows Thunderlane, and Rainbow Dash doesn’t mind.” “But do y’all mingle with ponies or not?” Applejack asked with just a hint of an edge in her voice. Lord Nox cleared his throat and fixed Nectarine with a glare. She shook ever so slightly. “Of course we do, just not many of them. I talk to Rainbow Dash about distributing the duties between our patrols, occasionally. I have to report to the mayor, like any public servant in Ponyville. And as Trip rightly pointed out, some ponies are practically bats anyway. Thunderlane is one, like you said, and Rumble’s practically one of ours too.” “So you talk to ponies ‘coz you have to, but you do only hang out with other bats.” Applejack’s tone hardened. Nectarine felt a bead of cold sweat begin to form on her neck. She couldn’t just admit Thunderlane’s parents were rousettes; it would destroy him. Not to mention Rumble. Stars, things were finally looking up for that little angel, he was on the verge of being accepted by rousette society, like his brother before him. He was this close to being considered a full-fledged adult bat and still have some connection to these silly, xenophobic, prejudiced ponies. She couldn’t destroy the illusion the poor boy had so carefully constructed over his young life. No, she couldn’t do that to little Rumble. She had to think of something, some excuse. “It’s just a name, really,” Lord Nox insisted. “A positively trifling little habit of our kind, nothing more. You don’t think we rousettes hate ponies, do you?” Rin suppressed a sigh of relief. Oh, my Lord and Saviour, thank you. The ponies went quiet. “We don’t, you know,” Rin said once the stress had worn off. “If we did, we’d have protested by now, or moved elsewhere.” “But if you don’t hate ponies, how come y’all don’t call yourselves ponies anymore?” Apple Bloom asked. Lord Nox chuckled. “Well, my dear, that there’s a matter of self-identification and its relation to magic. We rousettes employ the morphic field paradigm of magic with shamanic roots.” “Huh?” “It’s easier for us to think of ourselves as bats, little girl, it helps our magic.” “Oh.” Applejack folded her arms in front of her chest. “Pardon me, Nox-” “Lord Nox,” Rin interrupted. “It’s kind of a big deal, that title.” “Thank you, Rin,” sayeth the Lord. “Lord Nox, sorry, but if I understand this correctly, you’re saying there’s been a whole group of families in Ponyville who’ve never shown their face in broad daylight, act like a secret police force when they never do any police business for ponies, and don’t even talk to ponies if they can’t call them bats instead. Did I get that about right?” Nox shrugged nonchalantly. “Ho, sounds about right, yes. Nectarine?” Nectarine sat dumbfounded. “Well, now, when you put it like that, it sounds a lot worse than it is. It’s umm… it’s complicated.” “Why would you do that?” Applejack asked. “If you don’t hate us, why don’t you mingle? Why ain’t I ever seen any of your kind at Ponyville Market, or why ain’t anypony ever seen one of your little ones at Ponyville Elementary? Do you even help during Winter Wrap-Up?” “Oh, they do,” Missus Mayor replied. “They’re just private, that’s all. Isn’t that right, Rin?” Rin gulped. “Yes. We like our privacy. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather we not discuss the matter any further. This friendly invitation of yours is starting to feel more and more like a trap, and I don’t think we like it one bit. Right?” Trip and Sunset both nodded at their Captain’s request. “Humble pie, anyone?” Big Mac presented the big pie the Cakes had brought along. “Yes, please.” Nectarine replied. Once she had her slice, she made a point of eating as slowly as possible, if only to avoid talking more. Applejack didn’t press any further. She’d heard enough. The evening had come and gone. Apple Bloom wriggled under her covers to get comfy while Applejack tucked her in nice and tight, just the way she liked it. “Can you believe those guys? All this time and they don’t even bother to show themselves. They think they’re so much better than us they don’t call themselves ponies anymore. The nerve!” Applejack was still fuming. Apple Bloom looked up. “Well, they did get cursed by ponies once, and they do have some sorta magic goin’ for’em. Maybe it’s just their tradition.” “How long ago has it been, Apple Bloom? Do you think it’s normal for them to shy away like that for that long? They’ve never once helped ponies in Ponyville, and they’re Night Guards, for cryin’ out loud.” “Umm, sis? Are ya sure that’s what’s buggin’ ya? ‘Coz it sounds like you’re upset over something else.” Applejack sighed. “Never mind.” “At least Rumble and Thunderlane talk to them,” Apple Bloom said as her sister turned. “Their mom and dad must be really proud, bringing rousettes and ponies closer together like that.” “Maybe. That’s not the point, Apple Bloom.” “Then maybe you oughtta tell Nectarine what your point was? She looked pretty upset. And it’s not like she’s gonna tell the others to make friends with ponies if she’s upset with you.” Applejack groaned. “Yeah, you’re probably right. How did I end up with smart little sister like you, huh?” She ruffled the girl’s mane up with a hoof. “Guess I just paid too much attention to you. Good night, sis.” “Good night, Apple Bloom.” Apple Bloom wriggled into position some more and closed her eyes once Applejack turned off the lights. Tomorrow, after school, I’m finally going to meet Chitter and Stella. I wonder what they’re like. Stella’s probably a big loudmouth like him. Scootaloo’ll like that kinda gal. Apple Bloom let out a satisfying yawn. Applejack’ll make up with Nectarine, probably, and then the rousettes’ll come out of hiding. And if they don’t, I’ll just have to be extra nice to the ones Rumble brings along.