Canterlot Animal Control

by Lingo

Chapter 2: What was Normal Again?

tickle tickle

I'm getting really tired of whoever's tail is brushing across my face. Tiredly, I brush it away. I've earned some sleeping in, considering what happened last night.

Tickle tickle

Again I brush it away, hiding my muzzle in the crook of my leg so as to not get bothered again.

Prod prod

Alright, now I'm a little annoyed. You can give me an extra hour before getting fed, it won't kill you. I crack open an eyelid, making out something blurry and yellow... I can't place what it could be though. With a grumble, I turn over in my cot away from my morning offender, keeping Sherman tight to my chest.

I faintly hear some sound of disappointment. Like a puppy whine or a sad bird. Pretty.

Whatever it is leaves me alone after that, I start to fade off again. At the cusp of sleep, I feel a prodding on my back, more insistent this time. A frown marring my sleepy face, I turn my head around to glare at whoever dares.

When dealing with tired mares, it's never a good idea to pester them while they are trying to sleep.

My eyes focus in on the blurry yellow that is rapidly becoming less blurry and a little more pink and WAIT THAT'S FLUTTERSHY!!

With a startled yelp and a flailing of hooves, I find myself falling to the floor, somehow managing to land Sherman safely back on the cot.

"Oh dear…" her voice sounds like bells chiming in a gentle breeze. I'd love to wake up to that soft voice every morning, as long as it did not also include falling to the floor in surprise.

"Good morning Miss Fluttershy," I wheeze out a few painful seconds later, "what brings you here so early in the morning?"

She looks adorably bashful as she rubs her leg and partially hides her face behind her wing.

"Well.... you asked me to come in today and I was... um... a little worried and..." If changelings could feed off cuteness, she would be a limitless battery. "...and it's past noon and I thought you were…"

Past NOON??

I leap to my hooves with only a little stumble and round on the mare, grasping her by the shoulders.

"It's past noon? I've been sleeping all that time?"

She squirms under the attention and her wings instinctively come up to hide her face. Celestia darnit Fluttershy, this is not the time to be that cute! I need to feed the animals and do my other chores, not indulge myself!

"Well... umm… yes."

Without another word I practically fly past her and down the hall. I'm not even two doors down before I feel a tug on my tail. I stop and glance back and see her holding me there, worry evident on her face. She speaks around my tail hairs, still mostly intelligible.

"Everything is okay, I sleep in too sometimes and my animals get along just fine without me for an extra hour."

I take back my tail and continue in a hurry.

"I don't. I've never slept in and never missed my morning routine. A schedule and structure is important for some of these creatures and it's my responsibility to…"

The air over my head whips as Fluttershy nimbly jumps over me, landing in my path and standing tall.

"Stop."

I halt in my tracks, almost skidding on the floor. She didn't shout, not even close, but I've never felt such power behind her voice. Or really anypony's voice.

"Sit, please."

My rump hits the floor in an instant. I'm not in control anymore. Her eyes are narrow and intense, intimidating. Almost scary. I feel disoriented, only able to focus on her face. I can't look away. I feel like I'm being pulled in and pushed put at the same time by those cyan diamonds. And yet, it doesn't feel unnatural.

The last time that I remember feeling this cowed, I was on the receiving end of the ‘mom voice’ after I tracked topsoil all the way through my parent’s house.

"Take a deep breath, slowly, in and out."

I do as she says, not that I have much of a choice. My lungs fill with air deliberately and slowly, nerves calming with each exhale that follows. I do feel more calm now, actually.

"Better?"

"Much better."

She smiles warmly, all traces of that strange stare vanished from her features.

"Good. I'm sure you can get everything done in no time. I can even help... if you would like?"

The words tumble out before I can stop them.

"Will you help me?"

That smile brightens her face again.

"Of course! How about I go this way and you go that way and we'll meet back at your office?"

I barely remember agreeing with her before she's humming and trotting off down the hallway. I stare after her, my eyes are glued to her retreating image. I take a few steps, my head still facing after her, and promptly trip to the ground. The shock knocks me out of my stupor, the rest of the world crashing back in on my perception.

I brush my mane out of my eyes and look into the face of a certain mischievous snake. She sniffs my nose and I could swear she was smirking at me, if snakes could smirk. I glare at her in reply.

Not a word, Bump. Not a word.

She silently laughs at me, the little devil, and slithers up to drape around my shoulders. I don't dignify her with any acknowledgement as I climb to my hooves, my mind too occupied.

Just what had that mare done to me?

---

Only a half hour later and I'm approaching my office, my half of the chores completed. Seems I finished before Fluttershy. But as I trot inside I discover that is not true. She stands beside my desk with a small bag resting on the desk surface. She regards me with an odd look. It doesn't hold the power of her one from earlier, but it isn't relaxed either. I honestly can't decipher it.

"Where is the tiger?"

My mind races, the tiger? That's why she came here today, right? Something about it's behavior I wanted her to have a look at. But that's been solved, I released it… last night. Right. I'm not sure I have it in me to lie to her, but...

"I... uh... released him." Thanks mouth.

"You found a place, sorted out transport and paperwork, and released it in less than a day?"

Her tone was unbelieving, accusatory even. I flinched.

"No, I gave him back to his rightful caretaker."

"His caretaker? I thought he was going back to the wild?"

In for a bit...

"There was a... change of plans. His actual owner came by last night and signed him out."

"They did? Who was it?"

"I... can't tell you that." Because I don't really know myself, but I best not tell her that.

Her eyes narrow a little. With a wing, she tips over the bag and a bunch of gold coins spill out. Horse-apples. Where did that come from?"

"I found this sitting out in the yard beside the wall."

That explains it. Double horse-apples. Just who was that thing? Those don't even look like normal bits! Ok, focus. How do I explain this to Fluttershy without really explaining it? And without lying, I couldn't do that to her.

"Please, just trust me. He's with someone who cares about him. It was apparent as soon as they saw each other. I didn't charge them anything, I honestly had no idea those were out there."

Her gaze softens, her brow furrowing. Did I pull it off? She closes her eyes and nods, sighing.

"I trust you. I still would like an explanation, but I trust you."

My entire body goes slack, sweet Celestia that was close. I can't make a habit of this, I don't have the heart for it. If I ever see that... thing again, I have some questions for him.

Shortly later, I wave to Fluttershy as she flies back to her home. I let her go without paying her this time, didn't feel like pushing my luck as many times in a twenty-four hour period. And judging by the sight of an approaching royal guard, I made a good call.

---

Another day, another exotic bird.

They're a lot less dangerous than some of the other animals I've gotten called for, usually. I had a case with a cockatrice once, but that's about the most dangerous one I've dealt with. Nothing as deadly as a phoenix, though I did my thesis in college on their nesting habits.

I can't get my mind off of recent events. I want to do research about that... thing. Whatever he was. But I have no idea where I would even start. He looked like some kind of chimera, but there is no real registry of them. Only the notable ones get records and research about them, like Discord or the one with the multiple heads. Come to think of it, I’m not actually sure Discord counts as a chimera. But that’s off-topic.

My brow furrows with thought.

The one I saw is likely a kind of minor chimera, produced naturally by the chaotic-ness of the Everfree Forest.

But... this one seemed different. It was not an animal, not mindless. He was not mindless. He formed symbiotic relationships with other animals, showed care. That suggests he is at least a higher predator. He could also read and write, construct and use tools. That suggests an intelligence more akin to a monkey or ape.

The strangest so far had to be the bag of coins. I am no expert, but they looked to be made of real gold, and bore no symbols I recognized. It was no coincidence, he left them there for me. Payment maybe? So he may understand currency and trade. That puts him at a near pony-level intelligence.

The sound of flapping wings interrupts my musing. I look up from the book I was staring at but not reading, seeing my prey fly in a cautious circle around my trap. All according to plan. It won’t be long now.

I close the book, running my hoof gently over the cover. It’s a picture of a cragadile, but not depicted as a savage creature to be feared. In fact, this one has a foal riding merrily on its back while an older pony kneels beside it.

THE CRAGADILE HUNTER, by Sir Whinney

This book shaped how I interact with animals, how I treat them. The author himself was my greatest inspiration, my role model. I even sent a letter to his family after he died.

The flapping gets closer. Just a little more waiting, you can't rush something like this.

I cast my eye skyward again, looking up the long pole shooting from the ground next to me. It's a simple trap, humane and effective, and almost entirely by my own design. At the top of the pole sits a strong dome-shaped wicker basket, upside down with the inside facing the sky. The basket is padded with prime nesting materials, sticks, twigs, bits of hair and fur, bits of cotton. I even like to toss in some bits of birdseed sometimes. Soft and safe. The perfect lure for a wayward bird.

My prey today is a young condor. Whether it flew to Canterlot by mistake or some pony brought it here, I have no idea. Either way, it's scaring ponies and there's not enough food in the area to support such a large bird.

Speaking of, it finishes it's last cautious circles and finally comes in to land. The pole barely sways with the weight of the bird now resting on it. After a few moments, giving it time to settle in, I spring the trap.

Slowly, as not to alarm my new eagle-eyed friend, I reach a hoof over toward the bottom of the pole where a crank protrudes out from the wood. Once I'm close enough, a quick flick is all it takes to release the springs. Two wicker half-domes slide up from underneath the basket, clamping together at the top to form a complete sphere with the condor inside. I got the idea for the design from watching a Venus fly-trap plant. Marvelously effective.

I love it when things go according to plan like this.

Grinning, I slowly collapse the pole, bringing the basket down to the ground with an irate predator inside. He doesn't look upset enough to try tearing at the cage to escape. This cage was meant for smaller birds, and a strong beak or talons could make short work of the woven wood baskets.

He makes no effort to break free as I load the cage up on my wagon. There's a hook sticking out near the top that I hang the enclosed basket on. I should be in the clear, if he's not fighting now, he probably won't fight later.

Making my way back through the city, my mind has time to start wandering again. Again, the subject of the creature from last night occupies the majority of my thoughts. I bring up the image of him again. The strange markings, the tail with the paw/hand on the end. A lot like the picture in that shop window actually.

My wagon jerks as I come to an abrupt stop. I crane my neck to look back at the shop window I just passed. It's a small book store, right at the border of Upper and Lower Canterlot. And sitting right in the window is a picture of the creature. Well, more like a fairly accurate colored sketch. It's the cover of a book.

Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone
By A. K. Yearling.

I don't think I've ever gotten through a store that quickly. I went in, bought a copy of the book, and left. Less than five minutes.

The route home is a familiar one, I put my legs on autopilot as I start reading, letting them take me home as I devour page after page. It's an adventure book, written for young ponies, about a pegasus named Daring Do.

I can't say I read many books like this when I was younger, but I find myself enjoying it a little. Who says research can't be fun?

---

I just manage to reach my shelter when duty calls again. Barely made it through the exposition of the story, but it'll have to wait. This guard is significantly less calm than the one who retrieved me earlier. And there's three of them.

They explain the situation between pants, having galloped all the way across the city. There's a panther in the royal palace. An aggressive, injured, adult panther.

Oh horse-apples.

They wait for me to take the condor inside and gather my things. There's an air of urgency surrounding them, so I don't waste any time. Once I'm ready, one of them hitches up to my wagon and they all move in formation around me toward the palace. This is the first time I've been in the center of a royal guard escort, they keep a brisk pace through the city. They may be fitter than I am, but without my wagon weighing me down I manage to keep up just fine.

We garner more and more stares from ponies we pass as we travel. This is gonna do wonders for my reputation. Escorted by guards like a criminal.

But I might get a bonus since this is such a high profile case. The royal palace. I've only ever seen it from streets away, over the walls. Now, I'm being lead right inside.

Through the gate is a courtyard, probably for carriages to drop off visitors. A platoon of guards stands off to my left, putting on padded armor and covering bare fur patches. In case they need to assist me, no doubt.

And to my right is…

Is Princess Celestia herself, conversing with who I assume to be some of the palace staff. She's not radiating light and glowing as she does during the Summer Sun Celebration, but she's still a breathtaking sight to behold. The setting sun is reflecting off of her royal ornaments and casting her in a warm glow.

Her ageless eyes come up to meet mine as I am escorted past her. There's a flicker of something behind them, something I can't place.

I'm good at reading animals, not ponies.

I've never been good with ponies.

The guards whisk me through the great corridors, priceless art and history flying past me. Before long we come to a closed door, the first I've seen so far. The wood looks sturdy and strong, and very old. I need to be careful in here, it's practically a museum.

Facing the doors is another squad of guards, their spears lacking the sharp tips they usually possess. They want to resolve this nonviolently.

That's why I'm here.

I hear the clipping of hooves behind us, the other platoon has finished donning their padded armor. I'm told a code word as they take position on either side of the door. If I yell it, they will burst in to assist. But until then, I am on my own.

This is unusually high pressure from what I'm used to. Maybe because it's in the palace, this is standard procedure for the guards?

The doors open and I am ushered through. They close behind me with a solid thud. Time to get to work. This should be easy.

---

Finally, I have a moment to catch my breath, which I do so as quietly as possible from my hiding place behind a fern in one of the palace corridors. I use that moment to reflect on what got me here.

To say something went wrong would not be accurate, since that implies that something was going right beforehoof. No, this was bad from the start.

The good news is, the panther is an uninjured, healthy female. Whomever found her must have seen it wrong. The bad news is that she is unbelievably aggressive and unwilling to parlay even for a moment. From the second I was past those doors, I was being hunted. Not the cautious hunt of the tiger, but the violent hunt of a predator unhinged. The guards must have riled her up when they first discovered her, that's the only explanation I have for the unnatural hostility. It's no wonder they were treating this like they were, this cat is a serious danger to anyone in the vicinity.

And right now, that's me.

If this keeps up, I'll have to use my last resort. I hate using that plan. But this cat is not giving me much choice.

My ears swivel at a sound right at the edge of my hearing. It's impossible to be certain what it is. Luckily, my body does not need time to ponder the source of the sound. Instinct dictates that I flee again. I kick off from the wall, launching myself out from behind the potted plant. I do it just in time too, if the feeling of losing a few tail hairs and the sound of breaking ceramics are any indication.

My mind races on the fly. What are my options?

1. Get near exit doors and call for help
2. Attempt to outwit and hide from an apex predator
3. Try again to reason with it
4. Last Resort plan

Options one and three are out, calling in the calvary will only escalate her behavior, and she's beyond reason in this state. Option two is what I'm still doing right now, zig-zagging around corners and through ante-rooms and tea lounges. Damn nobles, not a single useful space in this wing.

Speaking of, I'm running out of room. I already made it to the end of the corridor once, barely managing to slip past the panther and gallop back toward where I came from. I doubt I'll manage it again. I'm tired, sweaty, bruised and scuffed. My uniform is ripped, my pockets spilled somewhere near the other end of the wing. My legs ache and the edges of my vision are getting fuzzy.

As I approach another doorway, the fur on the back of my neck springs to attention, standing straight up.

I skid to a stop suddenly, rolling onto my back and pulling my back legs to my chest. A black mass lunges at me. I kick my legs up like uncoiled springs, catching it in the chest and hurling it over me into the nearest room

Scrambling to my hooves, I gallop another few doors down, my frantically beating heart dropping into the pit of my stomach at the next sight. The door I entered from.

The end of the line.

A furious growl sounds behind me.

The muscles in my legs burn. My ears are ringing.

Time's up.

I hate this plan.

I dive to the floor, sliding like a hoofball player toward the door on my side. Throwing my shoulders and pivoting my hips, I manage to turn over mid-slide. Time seems to slow down. The blur is flying across the room, getting bigger with each fractured moment.

Closing my eyes, I light my horn and send out a pulse of magic from it. My back hits the old wooden doors with a painful thud.

After a moment, I peek open one of my eyes squeezed shut. A tail-length away from me hangs the panther, floating in space and struggling. Sound returns to my ears, I can hear her struggle, growling and hissing.

The doors open cautiously behind me, cool air flowing aircross my back from the opening. I tiredly turn my head, meeting the eyes of the half-dozen guards on standby to help. I can feel my heart still punching my ribs. My chest is heaving like a dog panting on a summer day. I must look like a mess.

Wordlessly, they help me to my hooves and prop me against one of them for support. I appreciate it. Another of them, a unicorn, moves to take the still struggling cat from my magical grasp into his own. I shake my head. What's done is done, the least I can do is limit the strain to just myself.

The trip back through the palace passes in a blur, I'm assured that I won't be charged for any damages that occurred during my efforts. Again, one of them offers to carry her for me. Again I refuse. Finally, we emerge back into the courtyard where my wagon is parked, palace staff bustling back inside to access the damage and resume normal activities. The princess is nowhere to be seen.

I levitate the panther into the wagon box, closing the door and locking it. Then I can finally release the pressure from my horn. I ignore the sounds of clawed paws staking in circles inside, collapsing to the ground beside it. I assure the guard accompanying me that I'll only need a moment to catch my breath, then I'll be on my way.

I’m not sure how long I lay there, I don’t remember closing my eyes. And yet when I blink, there is suddenly a heavy blanket draped over me. The sun is much lower than it was when I arrived.

I must have shifted as I woke, somepony clears their throat to the side of me. There is a guard standing vigilant. There is no way in Tartarus that this is a normal guard position. So they must be watching over me. How polite.

My mane is somehow in worse condition then when I lay down. I guess I fell asleep. Darn.

At a closer look, I can see they are staring at me. They meet my eye, grinning cheekily at my disheveled state.

Double darn.

So much for looking professional.

I fold and drape the blanket over the now stoic guard, hitch myself back into the cart, and leave.

Halfway back to the shelter I remember what I was doing before being summoned. The last half of the journey is made in record time. With an hour of returning the panther is safely inside the cell and I am seated at my desk, muzzle deep in the Daring Do book. I’m only going to read a few chapters before going to bed.

---

The book sits on my desk.

Closed.

Finished.

It’s some time past midnight but before daybreak.

I read every chapter, some multiple times, and know every detail.

Ahuizotl. His name is Ahuizotl. He's a treasure hunter with more… nefarious motives. He's got a clan of cats that accompany him: a tiger, cheetah, lynx, panther, and a fussy white house cat.

It all fits.

I met the villain from a foals adventure book.

That sentence is impossible.

Right?

. . .

If I was a betting mare, and I'm not, I would place everything I had on the bet that the panther in my holding cell right now is the one from the book. Which means...

He'll be back. Soon.

That gives me time to prepare.

Author's Note:

Wew this took alot longer than I planned to finally finish. Struggled with the last half of it, not gonna lie.

Anyways, thanks for continuing to read. I hope you liked it!

Remember to leave a comment, make an author's day!

Comments

[SigmasonicX]

Copying prereading thoughts

I saw the character tags, but I forgot that Ahuizotl would appear until the white cat appeared. That was a nice moment of putting everything together.

This is pretty fun so far. Keen Eye is likable, and it's interesting seeing her parse through what's going on. Her crush on Fluttershy is cute.

[A.P.O.N.I.]

So he may understand currency and trade. That puts him at a near pony-level intelligence.

And somewhat above those who request free art, or other services.