//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: A Bear in the Hoof is Worth Two Ponies in the Bush // by Emperor //------------------------------// “Wow, that was awesome!” Sweetie Belle said to her two friends as the newly-installed red curtains closed, joining in with the crowd of hoof-stompers. “Yeah well, he still hurt Rainbow Dash! That wasn’t nice of him. He’s a meanie, that’s what,” Scootaloo said, but her heart wasn’t quite in the argument. Neither was her face, a radiant grin that could light heartwarming emotions in any miserly codger. “She ‘ad it comin’, getting’ in his face like that all the time,” Apple Bloom came to his defense, enamored with the last round of fireworks Tristan had set off before bowing for the last time. His denouement performance had scared her initially; right after Tristan had warned away any foals with a strong phobia of fire, he lit up several hoops on fire before throwing them into the air. In that moment Apple Bloom was about to call him a madpony, certain there was no way he would avoid injury from the all-consuming flames licking away at the hoops, but Tristan proved her fears wrong with the way he leaped and bounded through them. The crowd had gone nuts at that. “Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Scootaloo asked, her tail wagging back and forth with excitement, buzzing wings momentarily lifting her several inches from the ground. “I think so, Scootaloo, but where are we going to get several inkwells? We’ve already been banned from Quills and Sofas,” Sweetie Belle said. Scootaloo just brought a hoof up to her face, smacking it for good measure. “No, silly,” Apple Bloom giggled, “What Scootaloo means is we haven’t tried getting our Cutie Marks in magic shows yet, look!” She pointed over at the side of the stage, where Tristan had set up a small table, processing a short line of ponies looking for an autograph, or in the case of the more dedicated fans, a hoofprint. “Awww. But I can’t use magic yet,” Sweetie Belle bemoaned, before scrunching up all the muscles on her face. A light green glow appeared on her horn, but all she got for her efforts was a few sparks that disappeared before they could even touch the ground, “Every time I try, I don’t get anything.” “Silly Sweetie, heheh, I’m gonna use that from now on, silly Sweetie, you don’t need that kind of magic!” Scootaloo declared, thumping her chest this time. “Everypony knows half of what he did was a trick. My parents took me to a magic show in Fillydelphia once where it was an Earth pony.” It was a vague memory for her, being west Fillydelphia born and raised, but her parents had moved shortly after some civil unrest in that city to a smaller town. “Really?” Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom both asked at the same time, their voices an echo of one another. Each of them were feeling encouraged all of a sudden. “Yeah!” Scootaloo nodded furiously, “I bet if we asked Tristan really nice, maybe he’d help us get out Cutie Marks!” All three of them jumped together at the same time, each with one hoof upraised to form a group hoofshake, “CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS MAGICIANS YAY!”   “I don’t really plan out most of my acts in advance, unless I’m booked in one of the cities,” Tristan explained to the mare standing opposite him as he signed a form letter for her baby filly, meant to encourage her to do the best she could. He despised form letters like that, but given Tristan had just saved the same filly from imminent injury or possible death earlier today, he would set his feelings aside. That, and the healthy donation for the show Tristan had seen her make. He had refused payment for his role earlier, so Brilliant Light had made up for it by giving a more than generous tip for his show. They both had their prides, and Tristan knew not to really butt heads with a small-town Earth pony like her. “Usually, I just follow the road and go whichever which way I feel like walking that day. When I roll up into a town, I put on a performance or two before heading on. From Canterlot yesterday, I decided to walk south, and here I was,” He finished answering Brilliant Light’s earlier question about when he intended to return. “Yes, yes,” She nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’ll bring her again the next time you come, by that time she should be grown up enough to appreciate it. Thanks again, Great and Powerful Tristan.” “With pleasure,” He gave her a broad smile, watching as she left before letting out a brief sigh. He normally had an issue with pushy mares, but something about Brilliant Light made it easy for him to have a cordial chat with. Perhaps it was that she actually had a daughter already. Married mares seemed to mellow out much to his merriment. Tristan looked ahead past the table. Brilliant Light had waited until most of the crowd had dispersed to talk to him, waiting until there were far fewer ponies milling around to coax the stallion behind the act out of his shell. That left just three little fillies waiting patiently for him, and he had a good idea of what they were going to request of him. “Mistah Great and Powahful Tristan, can we get your autograph pwease?” Apple Bloom asked as the Cutie Mark Crusaders approached the table, playing up her young age at the end by speaking with a foalish accent. “Oh, woe is Tristan, for he cannot resist the cuteness of three young mares,” Tristan hammed it up, bringing a hoof up to his forehead in mock misery, before bringing it back down. “Gladly, little ponies,” He said in as endearing a voice as possible. He had learned well the first time a foal had gotten indignant over being called little, and handled them with foal gloves now. “One or separate autographs for the three of you? To whom should Tristan make it out?” “Make one out to all three of us!” Sweetie Belle chimed in, accidentally letting out a squeak in her excitement that sent a pleasant tinge through Tristan at how adorable it was, “I’m Sweetie Belle!” “Ah’m Apple Bloom!” Apple Bloom said, quite well aware of how important introducing oneself seemed to be to this mysterious magician. “And I’m Scootaloo!” Scootaloo announced, bringing up the rear as her buzzing wings levitated her up slightly, “Together, we are-“ “THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” All three of them yelled in their loudest, high-pitched voice as they bumped hooves in the air. Tristan sat shock still for a second, before bringing a hoof up to rub away the treacherous skeletal muscle at the intersection between his neck and collarbone. As he took reigns of the muscle, his neck no longer feeling like it wanted to pop out, he broke back into a grin, “Very well, then Tristan shall address this to Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo of the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” Grabbing a quill in his magical aura, he sketched out a message tailor-made for little amateur groups of fillies. Tristan made sure to keep it in a block font, uncertain if they could read cursive at their age. As he hoofed it over, what he was expecting came to pass, “Mr. Tristan,” The white unicorn who had identified herself as Sweetie Belle began, “We were wondering.” “Could you show us some magic tricks? Could ya? Could ya? Pretty please?” All three of them turned up the brightest smiles they could, their glee like a contagious virus that could infect even the blackest-hearted of ponies. It was too bad for them Tristan had been vaccinated to the smiles of foals by encounters with them in dozens of similar smaller towns and villages. Tristan was not, however, without sympathy for younger fillies, before they grew up. It was similar conversations that he used as a guide to start this one, “You girls are thinking about getting your Cutie Mark in magic tricks?” With three eager nods, he continued, “How are you girls going about getting your Cutie Marks?” He asked, probing lightly for useful information. “We’ve tried everything!” Scootaloo said, “Artillery construction, river fording, growing several giant Venus flytraps-“ “Dungeon crawling, interior architecture, drawing cartography-worthy maps-“ Sweetie Belle took over. “Upgrading Pinkie’s Bubble Gum Cannon, timberwolf wranglin’, and playing craps!” Apple Bloom ended. “We’ve tried everything, and all it’s resulted in is us getting covered in lots o’ tree sap!” Tristan blinked. This group certainly had more wild ideas than the last few he had asked about getting their Cutie Marks. “Well, you certainly have lots of imagination, and for a magician such as Tristan, that is saying something,” He admitted. With a delicate hoof, he maneuvered the conversation to something he was familiar with. “Have you three ever thought about telling a story?” “What, like a book?” Scootaloo wrinkled her snout. “Get real, books are for eggheads, just like what Rainbow Dash says!” “No, no, not like a book,” Tristan moved hastily, preventing the conversation from being derailed. “Like a show, rather. Perhaps you can hold your own act?” “Doing what? I can’t use my magic, Scootaloo can’t fly, and I swear Apple Bloom has four left hooves some days.” “Hey!” Apple Bloom growled. “It’s true!” Tristan interrupted again before the two came to blows, “Tristan is a stallion of many talents, but he prefers acrobatics and magic in his shows. Despite that, Tristan has participated in many a play in Canterlot and Manehatten as both an actor and singer. Perhaps one of you can construct props and build the set, one of you can sing and dance, and one of you could show some fancy moves? Not those exact things, but I hope you see what Tristan is saying.” “Hold on,” Scootaloo said, and motioned to the other two ponies. Grabbing one anothers’ hooves, the three tightened around in a huddle, whispering at a low volume. Tristan briefly thought about using a sound-amplifying spell before shoving that thought aside. As a nomadic pony, he was rather protective of his privacy, and it wouldn’t do to take it from others without them even realising it. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably a minute tops, the fillies broke their huddle. “Thanks, Mistah Tristan,” Apple Bloom said, “We’ll take your advice, ah think our school is holding a talent show soon. Ah bet we could dress up with face paint and everything.” “Tristan is glad to help three little ponies,” Was all Tristan had to say. Internally, he was glad he had managed to deflect their curiosity away from trying to fleece a magic lesson out of him. He wasn’t always able to do that, and he wasn’t always able to turn away prospective students without one or two of them bursting into tears. Tristan was a soul filled to the brim with wanderlust, incapable of settling down for more than a few weeks here or there. Teaching meant the possibility of forming attachments, and he couldn’t allow that. “Is there anything we can do to pay you back?” Sweetie Belle abruptly asked. He briefly thought of something, but then decided against it. He wasn’t so lazy as to not get his own hayshake. Maybe if they were mares, but not younger ponies like them. “The location of the best place in town to get a hayshake from, somewhere I can park for the night, and wherever your local library is.” It was like pulling teeth over the next couple of minutes as they inquired about his reading interests, but Tristan eventually got what he desired. Standing up, he moved from behind the table, and cast a spell, the table disassembling itself and being packed onto his wagon. Aware of his enraptured audience, Tristan went through fanciful motions of assembling his harness and putting it around his chest and back. He paused, and decided if he was going to play the role of sage adviser, he may as well throw in some corny dime-a-dozen warnings as well, “Now, stay safe girls! Don’t be out too late at night, and especially don’t go into the Everfree Forest! As he started to canter in the direction of the lot the Cutie Mark Crusaders had pointed out for him to stay at overnight, he hummed and started to sing, “Gonna be as busy as a hibernating bear, can’t wait for some hayshakes in my wagon lair!” He wasn't too concerned with the quality of the ditties he belted out, so long as they were catchy and they rhymed. Several dozen hoof-lengths back, Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle. “What’s a lair?” She asked. “I think it means a cave of some sort,” Sweetie Belle slowly said. “Like where a bear hibernates in, I guess.” “Did ya say a bear?” Apple Bloom asked, suddenly excited. “You mean like, maybe an Ursa Major?” “Oh, I know!” Scootaloo said, “Maybe the Greatest and Powerfulest Tristan was asking us to go find an Ursa Major?” “What? No, he never said anything like that,” Apple Bloom said, wrinkling her snout. “Sure he did,” Scootaloo replied, achieving liftoff again for a few seconds with an exciting buzzing, “You gotta like, read between the lines like Miss Cheerilee always says in class. He told us to stay out of the Everfree Forest at night, right before talking about a bear in its cave!” “I dunno, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said, “I think he was just trying to be all teachery and responsible and stuff. Miss Cheerilee tells us that stuff about the Everfree Forest all the time too.” “No, no,” Apple Bloom interrupted, dominating the conversation, “Ah think Scootaloo’s onto something. Notice how he never answered us about teaching us magic and stuff? Maybe this is like, his test for us before he shows us anything.” “Really?” Sweetie Belle asked. She attempted to muster as much sarcasm as she could, but given her voice’s tendency to crack and come out into squeaks, it was lost entirely on Apple Bloom. “Yeah, yeah!” Apple Bloom nodded. “Like maybe we’ll have to track the Ursa down to show we’re good at detective work, y’know? C’mon, girls, maybe we can even find that mysterious Zecora while we’re at it!” “Yeah!” Scootaloo added, caught up in Apple Bloom’s spirit. “Uh, OK…I guess…oh, why do I know this’ll end up in tree sap…” Sweetie Belle trailed off.   Twilight Sparkle jumped as she was interrupted from her blissful daydream. With a start, she looked around, identifying her immediate surroundings as being her upstairs bedroom in the library. Satisfied that there was nothing to worry about, Twilight took several deep breaths, pushing a hoof up against her chest to feel the thumping of her heartbeat slow, the vital organ’s rapid expansion and contraction yet another reminder to her of how fascinating the equine body was in its operation. Shaking her head before she got off into another line of thought that wandered off the beaten path, hopped onto a train, went to the coast, then took an ocean liner to another continent, Twilight looked in front of her, and grimaced. Falling asleep at her desk wasn’t unusual. Drooling over a book was, and it was all the more embarrassing now that she was the librarian and actual caretaker of these tomes of knowledge. With a quick application of a few minor cantrips, she removed the drool from the pages of the book on creatures of the Everfree Forest, then dried it out. Twilight glanced at the page she was open to, trying to remember where she had been before dozing off. It was an arduous struggle that seemed to have no end, like the old mare’s tale of the old Griff king Griffyphus, cursed to forever roll a boulder up a hill only to watch it roll back down again. She let out an audible curse, then winced as she turned around. She sighed in relief, as she recalled Spike had left shortly after returning home to assist Rarity at her shop. It wasn’t something that happened often, but Twilight was in a rut. She hated it. In Canterlot, when she walked anywhere, she would always have a book open in front of her, scanning its lines at a brisk pace as she trotted to her destination. For Twilight Sparkle, who had little need for money in the gilded halls of the Palace of Canterlot, where any delicacy she desired was dished out with haste by dedicated chefs, time was the one true commodity of this world. And now Twilight was wasting it, in what had been the most intellectually unproductive day since the griffon Gilda had appeared in Ponyville, even counting her successful spell practice with Spike in the morning. Twilight growled, smacking her head lightly to rustle herself out of the ennui of the day. If it hadn’t been for that stallion Tristan and his show, admittedly entertaining even with all his personal faults, Twilight had a feeling she would have been sitting in bed all afternoon, listless and bored. At least something Tristan had said had inspired her to do some reading. She paused as a thought hit her. Twilight had definitely heard a noise earlier which had awakened her. It had come in that split-second between the realm of the returned Princess Luna and her old lover, the Sandmare, and the realm of the waking. Twilight had been left disoriented from that split-second as she awoke, and couldn’t confidently identify it as having been in her dream or something from the real world. Well, Twilight thought to herself, it was better to be safe than sorry. Pulling herself off her desk, she staggered onto the floor. Twilight winced from the brief pain that shot through her hooves after keeping her weight off them for so long, the sting no doubt like some of the fire ants she had been reading about the other day. OK, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but when else was she going to have the opportunity to use the Starrlion sting pain scale in real life? Satisfied that she had regained finer control over her legs, Twilight let out a quick yawn, then walked out the door, intent on seeing if anypony had wandered into the library. Noting the wind chimes she had set up at the entrance were still slightly drifting back and forth, she quickly trotted down the stairs, issuing her greeting, “Good afternoo-“ and then stopped, her muzzle left open. “Hmm? Is something on my face?” Tristan asked, as he continued perusing the one shelf opposite the front door. “At least this library is organised here by the Dewhoof Decimal System, the last village I was at had it all sorted alphabetica-“ This time, it was his turn to stop short, as he turned around to face the librarian. “Oh,” Was all the blue-furred stallion could stammer out as he finally recognised who she was. “Oh, is correct,” Twilight growled, recovering her voice. “You have a lot of nerve coming in here after what you did to Rainbow Dash and I, and even if this is a public place I-“ “Sorry.” “I-I-wait, what did you just say?” Twilight asked, blinking rapidly in surprise. “I said, I was sorry. You’re not from around here, are you?” Twilight narrowed her eyes, not sure which line of conversation to tackle as Tristan had deftly given her two entirely subjects to follow. With a second’s thought, she decided on the latter, “Why do you say that?” Twilight asked, part distrustful, part curious. “Well, let’s see here,” Tristan hummed as he brought a hoof up to his lips, making a weird rasping sound for a second, “Your accent strikes me as upper-class. Being a unicorn and given this town’s location, you most likely grew up in Canterlot. In small towns like this, most ponies either work in a family business, or learn a trade from a family friend, and being a librarian doesn’t neatly fall into either category. Several rural librarians I’ve met are also displaced ponies from the big-city looking to live someplace smaller, or graduate students wanting a steady income while they complete their studies and research. That’s merely a statistical likelihood, not a surety. However, there’s also the fact I saw you leave with a small dragon earlier, which given his age and familiarity with riding your back means you most likely grew up with him. Princess Celestia has to personally approve the citizenhood of any dragon taking permanent residence, and I can’t see anypony allowing you to simply grow up with a dragon without reasonable precautions, and living in Canterlot would be a far more secure location than growing up out here in Ponyville.” Twilight stared. Several of his deductions were flawed, but pointed in the right direction. Tristan smirked. “Given your lack of response, I’m guessing that I’m correct.” Twilight seethed. Something about that smirk just didn’t rub her right. It was different from the genuine smile she had seen Tristan make a few times at the show, one that truly did bring out his eyes. Twilight was about to make an acidic remark, when something else occurred to her, “Wait a minute, what happened to your third-pony speech?” The stallion’s smirk turned into a frown. “This is why I don’t always like small towns,” He grumbled, “Everypony comes out for the show, and then they expect me to stay in character afterwards if I go anywhere for food or a book.” “Ah,” Twilight understood now, illumination coming as if the stars of his cape and hat were shining on her. She made to ask him about that, then stopped herself. This Tristan seemed to be really good at changing the conversation, having deflected her anger twice already, admittedly inadvertently the second time. Twilight wouldn’t let there be a third time. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “What you did to Rainbow Dash wasn’t very nice.” “Who?” Twilight refrained from facehoofing herself. Rainbow Dash hadn’t introduced herself, but between her rainbow mane and the dearth of other ponies on-stage who Tristan had treated horribly, he must have known. She rated it at ten to one odds he was playing dumb right now, “The pony you fed concentrated rainbow essence to,” Twilight clarified. “Oh, her,” Tristan threw a hoof up in the air. “Maybe. Rainbow essence only tops out at a hundred thousand units on the Scoltsville Scale, and it was only a couple of drops. I was nice enough to bring a cloud by too, you know.” “That doesn’t matter, that still wasn-wait, you know about the Scoltsville Scale?” Twilight asked eagerly, “Oh, have you been to the Manehatten Observatory yet? I’ve heard they’ve bred a new pepper that ranks over a million units!” “The Celestia’s Wrath Pepper? It has been some time since I’ve been to Manehatten, and the Observatory is hardly at the top of my list. I have heard of it, though. After all,” He pointed at the shelf he had been looking at, “I was looking for a culinary book when I came in.” Twilight gazed over, and saw that it was true. “What?” “I, er, expected you to be looking at a magic book,” Twilight stammered, blushing in light embarrassment. “Pfft, what need does the Great and Powerful Tristan have when he’s already so good at magic?” He asked as he turned around, eyes zooming over the shelves. “Travelling all the time, however, I need more than pinecones and peanut butter crackers.” And there was the supreme arrogance he had displayed during the show. Twilight’s mind ricocheted back to her original intention as the more mild talk about food bounced off his boasting. “Why were you trying to get me to challenge you earlier?” She slowly asked, her mood as volatile as her mentor’s when her cake ranked anything above zero on the Scoltsville Scale. “That wasn’t very nice of you, either.” “Oh, that? Yeah, that’s what I was mainly apologising for earlier,” Tristan said as he pulled out a book, opening it up to a random page. “Hmm, lemongrass, that should go nicely in a daisy-and-pinecone stew. Aw, they only grow in the wild further south and west? I really don’t want to buy some here, if the market in this town even has anything beyond the staples. Anyways, Miss, um, what was your name anyways, sorry?” “Twilight Sparkle,” She supplied, her temper beginning to flare. “Yes, Miss Twilight Sparkle, I wasn’t actually trying to get you to challenge you, I was trying to get you to not challenge me. I saw you had a dragon, and not everypony raises a dragon. You also had a star Cutie Mark, which means your special talent might be in astronomy, but also potentially in a field of magic itself. You were an unknown factor, so basically I pushed you until I was satisfied you wouldn’t come up on stage. Reverse psychology and all, y’know,” He said, putting the book back in place on the shelf and looking for another one. Twilight narrowed her eyes, “Get out.” Tristan paused, and turned around, “I’m sorry?” “I said, get out.” “But this is a public library,” The stallion protested. “That may be so,” Twilight said, her horn glowing as she grabbed the other pony in her magical grip, causing him to yelp, “But I am the librarian here, and I think you’re being disruptive and unruly to the other patrons.” “But there aren’t any other ponies here!” “Oh look, here I am, reading a book,” Twilight snarked as she looked at an open book lying on the table, “And since you didn’t leave right away, I’ll have to send you out!” With a tug on her magical grip, she started to levitate him towards the door. Tristan attempted to magically resist her grip on him for a few seconds, but he then appeared to change his mind. Instead, he let out a growl, his face contorted with a mixture of anger and indignation, “You stupid mare!” He hissed. Twilight gasped, and in that moment, any hesitation she had dissolved away into the ether, as she opted to throw him out instead, closing the door behind him. She hoped he had landed on his horn. From experience, hitting your horn against the ground would hurt. She sat there for several minutes, calming herself down, her heart rate having jumped after the last insult he had thrown her way. Twilight had heard more than a few insults thrown her way as Celestia’s star student, ranging from remarks about her penchant for studying to comments on her practically being a shut-in. One pony had even said something about how her dancing was like gazing into the abyss, and having the abyss gazing back at her. Twilight thought she had grown a thick skin over the years, and would admit she had overreacted a little at the end there when she told Tristan to get out. Somehow, being insulted for her gender hurt like nothing else had. Twilight found herself prone to overanalysis, and she was living up to that reputation as she delved into why the remark had found its mark. Perhaps it was because Equestria was a strongly matriarchal society, ruled by a Princess for over fifteen hundred years, with mares taking most of the higher governmental positions as well. There was the occasional grumbling from a stallion about the status quo, but almost nopony dared to insult a mare over her gender when Princess Celestia, beloved as she was, was herself a mare. Moreover, what exactly was the issue that Tristan had with mares? Had he perhaps had a bad experience with them, such as childhood trauma? Perhaps he was just naturally misogynistic. Twilight briefly entertained with glee the idea that he had been dumped by a former lover, but decided that was too cliché. Or was she perhaps reading too much into it, and he didn’t actually have anything against them, just using that word as an epithet against her? Shaking her head aside to cast away those toxic thoughts, she trotted back upstairs. Her break time was over. Something Tristan had bragged about at the show had bothered her. Given Tristan’s admittance of his third-pony speech being an act, she wondered about the other comment too. She supposed if nothing else, she might be able to show him up in the immediate future if he hung around Ponyville. That was unlikely, though, given Tristan had said he was somewhat nomadic. What were the odds that her studying would really come in handy? Still, being worldly and knowledgeable about everything was something that Twilight did. Yes, she resolved to herself, she wouldn’t let thoughts of an obnoxious stallion poison her drive to read and understand, even if it was tempting to wipe that smirk off his face. If only she wasn’t so disappointed that her hopes he would make a good muse to discuss the intricacies of magic with and bounce ideas off had been dashed. That ship of hope had gone down. “I don’t know about this Apple Bloom, this really is beginning to seem like a bad idea.” “Aw c’mon Scootaloo, you were the one who suggested this in the first place.” Scootaloo looked around, and gulped. “Yeah, but that was before we actually got into the Everfree Forest,” She stated. The sun had set before they even struck out, something Scootaloo was beginning to think was rather foolish now. Hadn’t her teacher Miss Cheerilee once said something about most animals in the Everfree being nok-noc-noctorm-something, sleeping during the day and moving around at night? The pegasus filly wasn’t paying too much attention to where she was going, and so it was that Scootaloo stepped over a fallen twig, cracking it under the frog of her hoof. The reaction was immediate, as Sweetie Belle squeaked, practically jumping on top of Scootaloo and hugging her. Scootaloo couldn’t help but feel Sweetie Belle’s trembling, and it was getting to her too. “Relax Sweetie, that was just a branch,” Apple Bloom said, carrying a lantern as they navigated the treacherous forest, its verdure undergrowth already shadowed in the light of day, now nearly impenetrable with a single tiny source of light. “Don’t tell me ya girls are a buncha chickens?” Scootaloo shouted, “Don’t call me a chicken! C’mon Sweetie, let’s go,” She said to her very first friend, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. Sweetie Belle’s teeth were still chattering, but she seemed to find solace in Scootaloo’s reignited confidence. “Look girls, I found something!” Apple Bloom said, and it was true. Father Time had eaten away at the side of a cliff, leaving behind a large cavern. “Ya think we should go inside?” She asked. “I-I dunno, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle finally found her voice, speaking up, “I really think we should go back, I don’t like this.” Apple Bloom opened her mouth to speak. Something howled off in the distance. The three Crusaders didn’t even realise they were moving until after they were already inside the cave. Scootaloo huffed and puffed, sucking in air to make up for her mad dash. “What was that?” She asked, wishing she had paid more attention in class now. “Ah think that was a Timberwolf,” Apple Bloom whispered, her cockiness all gone. “Applejack said something once about them not liking caves, so ah think we’re safe here.” Sweetie Belle gulped, “And what about all the other creatures in the Everfree?” Apple Bloom gave her a raspberry, but it was obvious it was false bravado. Attempting to swagger, she swung her lamp around, “C’mon girls, let’s go a little bit deep-“ And then she stopped, as the light from the lantern exposed something in front of her. The three couldn’t tell precisely what it was, but it had fur a rich blue. There was a black shape that almost looked like the wet nose of most animals, except the rhinarium alone was nearly the size of each of the fillies…and if that was the nose, then those flaps of skin on either side were this creature’s eyes. One flap opened, exposing a red iris against a yellow sclera. The creature snorted in surprise, hot air washing over the three fillies. “You know girls,” Apple Bloom said, slowly backing up, “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.” “You think?!” Despite the situation, Scootaloo couldn’t help but get a snarky comment in. “I think this calls for Cutie Mark Crusaders RUN!” Sweetie Belle squeaked out the last word, and all three of the fillies heeded her. The Ursa’s other eye opened, and it began to move.   Tristan looked out the swing door of his wagon at the moon. For all his life, he had enjoyed looking at the stars and the moon, the latter which had formed a part of his Cutie Mark. Before the reign of Celestia and Luna, the old, old religions of Equestria equated the moon with many things. Several of the old lunar deities were associated with fertility, plants, animals, the ocean and more besides. However, the two he most enjoyed were the moon as the mother of magic, and the moon as the source of dreams. He supposed he truly was a romantic at heart, even if so many of the opposite sex were flawed. Then one day, the Mare in the Moon had disappeared. Tristan had honestly slept through the ‘Longest Night’ incident, having gone to sleep an hour before the sun was to be raised, exhausted from the performance he had put on in Trottingham for the Summer Sun Celebration, with pay already in hoof. To his embarrassment, having left Trottingham right after he had awoken and ignoring the buzzing of gossip on the streets, it wasn’t until the next night he realised something was wrong. Upon returning to civilisation, he had found out Nightmare Moon had really been the corrupted form of Princess Celestia’s sister, a Princess whom had been lost to history. It was just a rumour, but it was an interest rumour Tristan had once heard. Supposedly, if a pony obtained a Cutie Mark that had the Sun, they could go to Canterlot and get a little bit of one-on-one time with Celestia, who purportedly took a special interest in any ponies who shared the same Cutie Mark subject as she did. Tristan supposed that when Princess Luna re-entered the public eye, he would have to do the same with her. He only hoped she would be over what had to be a massive culture shock by then. As the matron of dreams, Tristan would enjoy talking with her about the nature of a dream, and that of a nightmare. Maybe she could even help him get over his distrust of mares in general, something he genuinely recognised as a character flaw in himself. Tristan had regretted the word when he had slung it at that librarian earlier, but with how bitter they had split ways, he wasn’t even going to try to apologise. Besides, he was going to leave Ponyville tomorrow morning anyways. It was a long-shot. So long as Princess Luna wasn’t like what a cold-hearted manipulator like what some of the conspiracy theorists thought of Princess Celestia, however, he should easily get along with her. Even if it wasn’t polite to ask a mare her age, Tristan knew she had to be several hundred years old, even beyond her banishment to the moon. If he could be tactful enough, he would ask her how much control she retained of her core being when possessed by the Nightmare. The inner romantic in him demanded it: Tristan liked the idea that, even banished for a thousand years, Princess Luna had still watched over her little ponies during all that time as the Mare in the Moon. He yawned, opening his jaw wide open for the moon and all the stars to see. There was the Little Dipper, and then there was the Dog Star that all Diamond Dogs prayed to. Moving his eyes over, he spotted the Big Dipper right away, followed by the Lynx constellation. As the mistress of the stars as well, Princess Luna had been putting extra work into the night sky, and it showed in a way that Celestia must not have ever had one or more of the time, the talent, or the passion for, as each star shone in its own individual way. As his own star, Tristan intended to shine so bright that no other star could cloud out his radiant light. Huh. It was funny, how he could have forgotten about that one constellation, especially considering his acts. Given how he had once returned home as a colt by following the star at the centre of its formation, the Merak body, he wondered how he could have overlooked the Ur- His ear twitched, and he looked down, away from the sky. He heard the scared yelps of three ponies right before the three fillies he had talked to earlier in the day burst out from a bush. “Mr. Tristan! Mr. Tristan! Ya hafta help us!” The Earth pony was wailing. What was her name again? Oh yes, Apple Bloom. With sudden alarm, Tristan noted the cuts and scratches over the three fillies, as well as the fact they were all panting and sweating from obvious exertion. “What’s happening?” He immediately demanded, cutting to the chase. Once more, he heard before he saw. He didn’t like what he heard, the sound of something loud trampling whole trees underneath. Then he saw it, and Tristan gulped. The moon was no more, blotted out by its incredible mass, and the stars were like flickering fireflies before its majesty. There, in the living flesh, its blur fur as dark as the twilight sky, was an Ursa Major.