> To Their Destruction > by Ice Star > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Fireflies > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- upon the water few fleeting lights know to leave when red peers up (at them!) and a smile so cold and (drenched! cruel!) splits the surface with the loudest snap (and splash!) that nopony would (ever! never ever!) hear unless they knew the cruelty of mares who wear their flowers and live in lakes but alas the fireflies tell nopony and in a world below water she is hungry (and who would listen to the fireflies?) > Làir Fhlùraichean > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- There she swims in a loch riddled with murk and it is with this disguise nopony sees her lurk Green, blue, and brown are all the hues her slick coat hides away waiting as the sun dims for somepony to stray Her siren and seapony cousins keep their allure to acts of lust and haunting song but any kelpie tries only to catch nopony that is strong Here in the inlet's marshy lands she can never leave, lest her skin go dry The little kelpie must watch the distant windmill vanes touch the sky Under lilies and weeds she must contain her song as bubbles wishing for the chance somepony will drown and save her hunt some troubles Along the shore the young kelpie spies the most exquisite prey Gleaming ember eyes take in the sight of a pony who couldn't possibly get away! The stallion is a burly Trottish specimen all muscular and wide To the kelpie's gushing delight she sees no wings at his side! His tartan cap only boasts the colorful pride of his clan Beneath cold water she swims gleefully, knowing his hat hides no horn and eyes bear no magic cunning plan Her mane swirls languidly atop the water, hidden teeth curled in a knowing leer ready to taste hot, coppery blood and taint the loch so clear The earthy fool is simple and weak with nothing to give him a chance as her hunger reaches its peak Always, there are ponies like her brown stallion who are little more than meat and brawn So exactly right for her ancestors to have devoured before dawn! His coat is as muddy as his mind, he thinks he sees a flower drifting and quaint that when she raises her muzzle from the water's kiss he doesn't appear faint! Her sigh begins a Song whistling past pointed teeth Tangles of her lank mane rise with her from beneath Change does not cross all hills, she has been told She remembers elder kelpie words smiling, keeping her stallion helpless with a song ancient and old He is to be no more than bones dragged from her lake Until she has plucked them clean, only Song holds him fearless so he doesn't shake So far from everypony that might think to care Her stallion is unable to pull away from her predatory stare How funny are the little ponies that mind you not not when you stray from herd and home! Their thoughts of kin only last for those who do not roam! With her paradoxical Song of his pain and her pleasure so well spun her soft laugh drowns in a breeze - now she can have fun! He is dumbed down with the same Songs of seduction work their usual charm Words telling of meaningless acts of flesh form the perfect prelude for any harm The country pony's eyes will only grow duller in death, and with that secure she makes her lunge dragging him into dark waters for a fatal plunge! Only when pain corrupts his mind do those eyes come alight! At once, at last her delicious victim shows some fright! He cries for family that will never come while she pulls him into the deep and dark that make up her humdrum Water invades his mouth and enriches her being the tendrils of his blood curling beneath her muzzle is just so freeing Her rear legs meld from kicking, clumsy stock to a tail stirring with grace From the cold lake depths, her chest warms knowing his thrashing will stop at her pace! Monstrous forelegs strike her stallion against anything with each buck leaving her to burble delighted among blood and guck She is mindful in her attacks to give him no rest watching as his struggle lessens with each hideous mark against his chest Clouding her water like a valley clings to its veil of fog are clouds of blood a-flow that heat her savage heart with the cruelest glow Before he offers one last scream, she dives forwards for her first bite letting his will drain away, while above them day bleeds to night Half-dead and suffering, the kelpie delights in prolonging her stallion's pain by gnawing rough chunks away from his crest and mane Savory crimson pools under her maw wrenched into a sickly sneer, seeing her stallion knows no more of home, family, love, or law When spring comes her stallion's ghost might perhaps have one blessing if any bones wash up and leave any ponies guessing Until the energy of a new dawn arrives, the kelpie mare at last claims her feast tearing into pink, raw, primal chunks of pony-flesh as an unhinged beast Past all from her cousin-kind she tears apart beneath his ugly cage of bones is the start of a useless, stilled heart Every bit of her stallion she rips into unidentifiable slop letting all that her stallion was cloak her while the kelpie feeds non-stop She will lose no sleep or ever be brought forward for her abduction and when the marsh winds turn foul with hints of old flesh, the kelpie mare will gladly lead another to their destruction > Gentlecolt Red Grouse > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Waves carve the shores of the Trottish countryside And tickle the heather with a lost stallion's plight In their leaves, the songs of those claimed by kelpies are carried Though even their ghosts are fragmented, In a village, a mill, a manor, or a farm somewhere: Not everypony has given up on what bones are surrendered Gods, would it not be good if his kin were so kind?