> Twilight Sparkle is an Espeon Now
>  by Starscribe
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle knew something was wrong from the first moment she woke. She could feel it in her fur, from the tip of her nose right down to her tail. She yawned, stretched, then shook herself out, rising from her bed.

Well, she would’ve stood up from the bed, except that she was no longer resting with calm poise right on the edge of the bed from one side. Rather, she was now completely surrounded by a sea of blankets, expanding around her in all directions and blocking out the light. While this hadn’t mattered only seconds before, she decided rather abruptly that it mattered a great deal.

Twilight yowled, leaping into the air with all her strength. She struggled against the blankets with legs and claws—not wings, as those seemed strangely numb. But she didn’t do much thinking, just fighting. She fought and struggled until she’d managed to emerge near her pillows, and she could assess the damage. 

There was a row of identical pillows here, each one the perfect shade of lavender to match with her creamy sheets and her fur. But just now, each one was about as large as she was. She pawed at the nearest one skeptically, and found it felt exactly as she remembered.

Her hoof, however, did not. She lifted it closer to her face, squinting down at what she saw. There was a paw there, soft pads ending in a set of retractable claws that slipped away even as she looked at them. I’m a housecat. She was something like one, anyway. Her fur was a little lighter, but not much. Twilight was no Fluttershy, but she was fairly certain cats weren’t supposed to come in purple.

Her mind raced, trying to remember anything she could’ve possibly done to cause this. But she drew a continuous blank. Transformation spells were incredibly dangerous and precise, and they weren’t something to be used casually. Changing herself into an animal was exactly the sort of thing that would get her written up in some “introduction to sorcery” textbook as an example of the dangers of spellcasting hubris.

“Spike, are you there?” she asked. Her voice sounded completely strange to her—feline mewling mostly, though the tones she repeated didn’t sound quite right for that. Whatever, he wasn’t in her bedroom anymore anyway. She’d have to find her assistant, or maybe Starlight Glimmer. Somepony would help her, anyway.

She made her way to the edge of the bed, finding the steps came only with difficulty now that she knew how strange her body had become. She reached the edge, staring down at a drop that hadn’t even been the height of her body before. It now seemed like several meters, a fall that would surely break her legs if she landed without wings. A quick glance behind her confirmed what she felt on that score—there were no wings, only a tail that lifted high behind her in agitation and fear.

A tail shouldn’t have so much meat to it. But even as she thought, it whipped around from behind her, giving her a clear view. Her tail forked at the end, something else she’d never seen from a cat before. If they can’t change me back right away, I might need Fluttershy to tell me more about whatever magical creature I’ve become.

Twilight hesitated, then lunged forward off the edge of the bed. The air rushed past her, but her paws seemed to know what to do. She landed deftly, without anything more than a slight strain from her legs. It didn’t hurt.

She scampered forward along the polished crystal floor, relying mostly on her claws to keep from sliding. She stopped in front of the bathroom mirror, which went all the way down to the floor.

The resemblance to a regular cat was certainly there. But those ears were too big, and there was a strange red gemstone set right into her forehead, where a horn ought to be.

Curious, Twilight tried to concentrate, summoning a generalized counterspell that should undo whatever she’d gotten herself into.

There was a response, a strange building of pressure behind her eyes—then the mirror shattered. She stumbled backward as though by a reactionary force, sliding along the crystal floor until she came to an undignified stop against the far wall.

Twilight looked around, staring down at one pink paw. The spell had done something, but not what it should have. She sighed, then rose, shaking off a few stray shards of glass before turning to the bedroom door.

Sound came from the other side, something metal and some nervous tapping. Was she imagining it, or could she feel the guards on the other side of that door, whispering nervously to each other that somepony ought to check on the princess? Then one tapped on the door again, and his words were a strange double-echo in her mind. “Princess, is everything alright? Did something break?”

She hurried closer to the door, her tail whipping about behind her angrily to keep her precarious balance. She raised her voice as loud as she could, knowing that in her tiny body she would need all the volume she could get. “I’m not fine, actually! Could you please call Starlight Glimmer? Tell her to come straight here, never mind her counseling. And don’t tell anypony where she’s going?”

On the other side of the door, both her guards faced each other in utter bafflement. “What the buck is ‘Espeon’?” One of them asked.

“No idea,” the other one said. “But that didn’t sound much like the princess. Should we sound an alarm?”

“No!” she said, her voice becoming just a little nervous. “Please don’t do that! I don’t want this all over the Canterlot Gazette. Ponies were just barely starting to accept me as it is.”

Again they looked at each other. Twilight could taste their growing anxiety like an overripe fruit getting riper by the second. “Bring the dragon, he’ll know what to do.”

“Good idea.” One of the guards took off running. The other moved in front of the door, facing towards it with his spear pointed at the wood.

How do I know what they’re doing? Twilight wondered. But there was no answer forthcoming. Just a choice: she could sit here in the open and wait for Spike to find her, or she could act.

Twilight could’ve found somewhere to hide, maybe slipped past Spike when he arrived. But the balcony was open, and the sun shining in from outside felt positively wonderful against her coat. Twilight found the guard outside was suddenly less important. She could close her eyes, rest a moment. Nopony would mind.

Twilight’s world fuzzed, and the next thing she knew, she was stirring. Something was moving into her bedroom, something small and hard and nervous like a pasta with too much salt. She yawned, stretched, then sat up, and knew exactly where to look as he approached.

“Easy there, uh… whatever you are. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He stuck out both claws, holding them flat in a gesture of peace. Not that it mattered to Twilight—she wasn’t going to hurt him!

She remained where she was, sitting patiently as he approached. She resisted the urge to walk right up to him and inspect how he smelled. There was another scent on one of his legs, one she didn’t like. But that could wait. “Spike, I’m glad you’re here. I need you to go get Starlight Glimmer as quickly as you can. Tell her I’ve been transformed. Current symptoms are…” then she trailed off, finding a bit of dirt on one of her forelegs suddenly occupied her attention quite a lot. She licked herself clean, and didn’t speak again until she was finished. “Physical, magical, and psychological. I don’t have my horn anymore, so I can’t determine how deep into my pattern they go. I can be more detailed, but I’d rather explain them to Starlight when she gets here.”

Spike’s arms dropped, and his mouth fell open in utter astonishment. Twilight tasted his nervousness transform to a few spicy drops of shock, then gradually sweeten into realization. “I have… no idea what you just said,” he said, his fear washing away. “But that tone—you were just giving me a Twilight lecture.” He hurried past her, at least as much as the cold-blooded dragon could ever hurry. He hopped onto her bed, picking a few stray hairs from the sheets. He landed beside it a second later, his excitement building into something like cotton-candy. He was sure he was right, and his feelings made sure she knew that.

For once, Twilight didn’t mind. Her favorite assistant—her only assistant, but that was incidental—had learned more than just making lists from her. Analytical reasoning as well. 

“Nopony got past the guards,” he went on. “Nopony saw Twilight leave. Could’ve teleported, but… now there’s a cat in her bedroom, trying to give me lectures.” He stopped right in front of her, grinning. “You’re Twilight, aren’t you?”

She nodded emphatically. Somehow—even though it felt like she was speaking—the sounds she made were no longer words. Too bad she didn’t have her magic anymore, or she could probably come up with a spell to fix that. “Obviously,” she said, as slowly as she could. Maybe saying it slowly would make herself more easily understood?

No, apparently. There was still no comprehension on Spike’s face. “Could you, uh… nod for me again? If you’re really Twilight, I mean. Just so I don’t go for help for something that the real Twilight wouldn’t let me forget for… months, at least.”

She nodded again, even slower than before. “I’m Twilight. Now please get Starlight Glimmer, and anypony else you think we could use. I’m not enjoying this at all.”

But that was a lie, and even as she said it, she turned away from him. Spike had left the doors open behind him, and past the nervous guards outside, there was a whole castle waiting for her. Bigger than it should be, certainly more dangerous than it should be. But she didn’t have her horn anymore, and nopony could talk to her. Presumably she wouldn’t be able to help reverse the process beyond a few physical samples for Starlight Glimmer or whoever to work with.

Twilight turned on Spike, and abruptly headed for the door. “I, uh… I’m not so sure you should be leaving!” he called, hurrying after her. “Don’t you want me to… right, I can’t. Letters, let’s see. Who can help?”

But Twilight didn’t stay to listen. Some part of her wanted to, but a much louder part wanted to explore. Twilight poked her head through the open doors, looking up at the guards outside. A swirling mess of different emotions and smells blended together inside them, ultimately resolving to surprise. She wasn’t what they were expecting. Which was just the time she needed.

Twilight might be smaller than she should be, but she could move fast when she wanted to. She slipped between their legs, twisting down a hallway before either of them could twitch. She heard shouts behind her, but she didn’t much care what they were saying. They weren’t Spike, and they weren’t Starlight come to cure her, so they didn’t matter.

There were so many wide spaces in this castle, heated by skylights into temperatures perfect for a nap. But she was hungry first of all, and that meant the kitchen. Twilight took the stairs in a few hops, lowering her body as another few guards ran by on the floor below. They didn’t yet know what they were looking for. There were only the four of them to search, and Twilight had such a large space to hide in.

She reached the kitchen doors, towering over her just like everything did. At her guess, she was perhaps a third the size of a pony—bigger than any cat she’d seen, but not quite the size she would’ve expected. She wouldn’t be reaching the handle with her mouth, or her paws, assuming either one had the dexterity to turn it.

Maybe I can just magic it open? She might not be a unicorn, but she had broken the mirror, hadn’t she? Twilight concentrated on the kitchen door—and the knob twisted. It didn’t feel the same—but what did it matter if the magic still worked? Twilight glanced once over her shoulder to see she hadn’t been followed, then slipped through into the kitchen, shutting the door quietly behind her.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight knew she couldn’t remain in the kitchen for any length of time without getting caught. It was the highest-traffic part of the castle, with dozens of ponies passing through it along their daily routines. Anything she did would have to be subtle, using her most careful stealth to avoid being seen.

Then again, nopony knows what I look like. How would they know it’s me taking things from the kitchen? Of course if they had, she wouldn’t have had to worry. It was her castle, her food to take if she wanted it.

Twilight crept carefully through the low doorway, eyes scanning the room for any sign of activity. Her strange positional senses still seemed to be working—she could feel motion by one of the stoves. She glanced cautiously in that direction, and sure enough there was Galette working on the evening meal with one of his sous-chefs. Twilight didn’t want an unfinished soup, that was for sure. But she knew with total confidence what was tucked away in a remote corner of her pantry, just waiting for her to acquire. 

Twilight frequently treated visitors at her castle, and some of those had tastes that ordinary ponies would not appreciate. Now Twilight was probably one of those, though she didn’t particularly care. Why should she be bothered with what ponies thought about her choices?

She waited until just the right moment, then darted across the kitchen towards the pantry door. It was shut, but her magic quickly solved that, yanking on the knob and pulling it out. There was no need to twist, since it was made to be easy to use by non-unicorns. The room beyond was dark, but even without her eyes she could feel the exact borders of every object around her. She hopped carefully up from the floor, balancing on the edge of a shelf filled with cans. She stalked along it towards the next ledge, then hopped up.

Maybe less gracefully than she’d hoped, because her back legs caught over open air and swung for a few seconds, dislodging a can in the process. It thumped to the floor, but she ignored it. There were more important things to worry about, like not falling.

She grunted, then shoved herself up onto the top shelf. Here were the rarest, most valuable ingredients, reserved for special occasions and important guests. Twilight ignored priceless jars of spices from Saddle Arabia, stepped carelessly over packets of saffron, and reached the back corner. There, cans marked with griffon labels sat in isolation, as though the pony who had put them here was afraid it would contaminate the rest of the kitchen by proximity.

There were images of fish on the side of the cans, food that Twilight herself had tried and not hated, though the idea of it still rubbed her the wrong way. Well, it had rubbed her the wrong way in the past. Now she couldn’t care less as she levitated one of the cans off the stack, lifting it to the floor below.

As she followed it, she realized something that had been only a distant fact in her mind a few moments prior—she wasn’t alone.

Galette stood in the doorway, staring up at her with wide, speechless eyes. His wings spread at his sides, an instinctive reaction to fear. His fear was an unpleasant stink on the air, one that didn’t mix well with the real odors of food. “This isn’t a subject for concern,” she told him, hopping down to the ground in a single graceful stride.

It didn’t matter that she’d been scrambling for her life to avoid that same fall moments before—now that she was ready to go down, it was an effortless hop. She walked a few steps closer to her can, protecting it with one shoulder.

Galette slammed the door shut in her face.

That was good—it meant that she was now free of distractions and could return to doing something that actually mattered. Twilight flicked the light on—no sense hiding if the kitchen knew she was here—and turned to stare at the can.

She didn’t have an opener, nor did the pantry seem to contain any tools she might use for that purpose. But she did have her magic, maybe there was some way to use that? Twilight knocked over the can, inspecting the lid.

It wasn’t flat, but had a little tab on top, fastened to the metal. So she’d been worried for nothing! Twilight gripped the object firmly to the ground, and yanked on the fastener with all her magical might.

It came off with a “pop” of compressed air, and a smell of food inside. The water the fish was stored in spilled out on the ground at her paws, splashing all over her in the process. But she didn’t care about that either—her hunger mattered more.

Outside the pantry, she heard voices. Galette was there, along with one of the guards, and several others Twilight didn’t know. Whoever they were, it couldn’t matter too much. I just have to stay safe until Starlight Glimmer finds me. That can’t be too hard.

Her student would make this better, just as Twilight would’ve done for her if the positions were reversed. It would be simple!

Once Twilight finished eating—not the least bothered that her fish was slightly old and also completely raw, she became suddenly concerned with the fishy-smelling liquid all over her body.

There was only one solution to that—she started grooming herself, sitting up primly and licking away at her coat until she couldn’t smell the fish anymore.

She was just about finished with her work when the door swung abruptly open. There was Spike, along with a pair of Twilight’s own castle guard, and the single pony Twilight actually wanted to see.

“That’s her,” Spike said, pointing directly at her. “Sorry for the trouble, Galette.”

“I can’t work under these conditions!” he raged, storming away. But Twilight didn’t listen to the other things he said. She shook herself out, advancing on Starlight and preparing her response.

“Starlight, I’ve been waiting for you. You’re the only pony I have any faith of reversing this.”

Starlight Glimmer froze in the doorway, expression twisting into one of confusion. Just like the others, even though Twilight felt like she was speaking just fine.

After a few seconds, Starlight Glimmer took a cautious step forward, looking directly at Twilight. Her worry was a slight electric buzz in the air around her, but it was nowhere near as intense as Spike’s had been. There was a powerful undercurrent of thought there beside it, as though Twilight’s predicament inspired more planning than fear.

“Twilight. If you can understand me, I need you to nod, okay?”

Twilight nodded, her motions just as exaggerated as Starlight’s words were slow. “I already went through this with Spike. Yes I can understand you, no I don’t know why you can’t understand me, and I don’t know what caused this. I wasn’t doing anything that could’ve caused a complete transformation like this, and I’m bucking sure I don’t run full-body transformations on myself.”

Starlight looked back at Spike. He nodded. “What did I tell you? You can almost hear Twilight in there when she talks. I think she’s lecturing you like she lectured me.”

“Probably about how I need to fix this,” Starlight muttered. “Because she doesn’t have a horn. One of the princesses of Equestria is an animal and I have to fix it.” She turned slightly away. “Well, come on out then. We’re, uh… I guess we’ll use your lab? I need to take some observations, and… samples! Lots of samples. Magical samples, so I can try to figure out exactly how to reverse this before anypony notices. Unless… do you know what went wrong? Can you nod for me if you know?”

Twilight shook her head, following Starlight from the closet. “I just explained this. I don’t know what happened.”

“At least she can understand us,” Starlight said again. “So you should know that we’re going to the lab to do some research.”

“Yes, yes,” Twilight said, impatient. “I heard you.” The real question was, how long would that research take? There was a whole world outside, one she could smell a little as they walked past an open balcony door. Ponyville would be a fascinating place to explore. Once she was away from her castle, there would be no reason for the ponies who saw her to suspect that Twilight was involved. Ponyville had plenty of cats, stray or otherwise. She didn’t look that magical at a distance.

She attracted plenty of stares as she made her way through the castle. Some part of her—quieter now, the longer she spent like this—knew those whispers had somehow found out what had happened to her. Nevermind that she’d been very explicit with Spike about how he wasn’t supposed to share with anyone. Now they knew, and they appeared to pass the information on.

Her castle could keep secrets, for a while. But nothing could stay in the castle for long.

Eventually they climbed up near the crown of the great crystal tree, past flights of tremendously boring stairs. Twilight slipped past Starlight into the vast space, which was roofed by a wide clear dome that gave her a good view of the stars at night for stargazing or spellcasting purposes.

But now she was fascinated by all the scents of her various ingredients, and Twilight immediately hopped onto the nearest table to inspect them.

A second later Starlight Glimmer reached her, and she felt herself lifting into the air. Starlight’s magic was strong, and she gripped Twilight just behind the neck along with under the belly. Her legs gave out and her body went rigid, and she suddenly lost interest in whatever she was doing. Any thought of resistance faded, and she looked up at Starlight with a placid, vacant grin.

“You would not want to walk around with my Immolation experiment,” Starlight said. “Just a little pressure in the wrong place, and… I already know cats aren’t fireproof.” She lifted her across the room, towards a circle of crystals set into the floor. They began to glow as pony magic approached, humming in anticipation of containing whatever would go inside.

A second later, Twilight went inside, and a shimmering barrier appeared around her. “I’m sorry,” Starlight said, not sounding even a little sorry. “But just because you can understand doesn’t mean you’re in control of your faculties. You seem to be causing quite a bit of trouble. And I don’t think you’d forgive me if I let you hurt ponies while you didn’t know what you were doing.”

Twilight batted at the side of the shield anyway, considering whether or not she would try to break through it. Then she realized that would be rather dull, and she just sat down instead.

She’d always expected the magical analyzer to be more… invasive, from the things it sometimes did to magical samples. Ponies used their powers without control, manifesting their racial abilities or their special talents. Potions boiled over, enchanted objects flared and could even be damaged by too much exposure.

But Twilight Sparkle felt almost nothing. A few moments later, and the crystals went dark again.

Starlight’s expression fell as she approached the printer. A thin stream of tape belched out the end, and Starlight leaned down to inspect it. “Hmm. That isn’t what I was hoping to see. There’s no active spell on you, Twilight. What kind of transformation wouldn’t still be active?”

“Discord’s,” Twilight suggested, knowing full well that Starlight wouldn’t understand her. “This chaos does seem like something he would try. Even if it wasn’t him, he might have an idea of what else could’ve caused it.”

Starlight Glimmer nodded to herself as the barrier finally faded. “Stay down here, Twilight,” she said, crossing to the door and shutting it behind her. She leaned close to the wood, and her voice carried through easily. “I’m going to see if Fluttershy can get me in touch with Discord. I’ll be down to feed you in a few hours.”

“Sure thing!” Twilight called, without even the slightest intention of waiting like she suggested. As soon as she was sure her friend was gone, Twilight crept up to the door, unlocked it from the other side, and strode through.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ranked against Rainbow Dash’s favorite mornings, she probably would’ve named today as a below-average 3/10.

It wasn’t just that she’d woken with the cloud-bed of her cloud-house suddenly puffing away beneath her. Then her body was sent tumbling down towards Lake Ponyville, which wasn’t great either. Nevermind that she was up altogether earlier than she would’ve liked, no matter the circumstances.

Falling from great height was nothing strange for Rainbow, and it wouldn’t have ordinarily pushed the morning much below her average. The problem was, rather, that she no longer had her wings. She kept trying to spread them, but there was nothing there, nothing to catch the wind. When she started to tumble in the air, she could do nothing at all to correct her fall.

She screamed, catching a brief glimpse of a waxy blue tail above her as she turned over her own flank in the air. But she lived alone above a lake, so it wasn’t as though there was anypony to hear her and come for help. Rainbow was completely on her own as she fell, the terrible reality of her impact rushing up to meet her from below. Whatever had happened to remove her ability to fly, it would soon remove her ability to live as well.

She knew full well just how likely she was to survive an impact from great height, even into water. That wasn’t the kind of crash you could walk away from.

Rainbow had a few precious seconds to wonder how she’d gone wrong, and to speculate at the mistakes that had led her to that point. Then she hit the water, and her world shattered.

She felt like she was shattering too, breaking apart as she hit the water. But what she expected to be a point of terrible agony before the end of all sensation—wasn’t. 

Her mind drifted, disassociated from body, sensation, or thought. She felt briefly at Lake Ponyville’s boundaries—it wasn’t really much of a lake, even by generous estimates. More of a pond, with only a few dozen scrawny fish.

Shouldn’t I be dead? Rainbow found herself searching for her broken corpse, which at the very least would seem highly improbable and create an awesome mystery for her friends to solve. Her only regret would be that she wouldn’t be able to go on that adventure and solve it with them.

But there was no body, no corpse, no blood. Rainbow couldn’t really see, even, so much as she could perceive what was in the pond, and no further. She knew the roots of the various little plants had to connect to leaves further up, and that the world continued past the water’s banks. But why couldn’t she see it anymore?

Rainbow tensed, and found herself coming back together. It wasn’t a broken thing mending, since she hadn’t broken exactly. But one moment she wasn’t, and the next… there she was, standing on the bottom of the lake as though it were the most natural thing in the world. 

She could feel the water pressing down around her, restricting all but the faintest shreds of light piercing through the surface above. Sounds were muffled too, only the occasional lapping of the water and a slight breeze above the pond.

Shouldn’t I need to breathe? Curious, Rainbow pushed off the bottom of the pond, swimming up towards the light. Her head broke the surface near the edge, and she took a deep breath. Yes, she could breathe. But did she need to?

She dropped down again, closing her eyes. She waited for the pressure for air to get to her, forcing her to surface. It didn’t.

Finally Rainbow realized that it never would, or at the very least she became bored enough that she didn’t want to wait it out. Instead she rose from the water, turning to look at her own reflection on its broken surface.

There was a little resemblance there—she still shared some of the same colors. But she no longer looked even a little like a pony. Maybe a dog, or a small wolf, though she was bright blue and had smooth scales instead of fur. She reached up, feeling the fins running up her head.

I won’t be flying like this, she realized, horrified. Rainbow stared up at her distant cloud house, watching it slowly drift away. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

I should probably go get help, she thought. I shouldn’t be a wolf-thing. Being able to somehow land and survive in the pond had been a lucky thing. Should she still be bothered about her near death? Rainbow didn’t really get bothered, she almost died too often.

Who would know how to help when you’re suddenly a wolf-thing? Twilight, obviously. The tricky thing would be getting to her without being noticed. Dogs weren’t dangerous, but she’d have to pass the Apple Farm on her way back into Ponyville, and Applejack could get quite protective of her chickens. Fluttershy too, if she happened to go that way.

“I should probably go to her first,” she said to herself, picking that direction and setting off at the equivalent of a trot for wolf-monsters. Fluttershy’s cabin wasn’t that far away. If she could fly, she probably could’ve reached it in just a few minutes.

At first Rainbow Dash kept to the path she knew, though her paws liked the grass more than the bare dirt, and she stuck to that where she could. The sun beat down on her all the while, and she found herself soon missing the lake. Why did Ponyville feel so dry today? They were on track with the moisture schedule, at least Rainbow thought they were.

Soon enough the cabin came into view, and Rainbow lowered her whole body into a stalking crouch. Fluttershy would never hurt a strange animal, no matter how predatory it looked. But she might have visitors, in which case Rainbow would wait until she was alone. At least it was early enough in the morning that she didn’t think her friend would be gone anywhere.

But she still had to find her. Of course it might all be pointless. Maybe anypony would’ve been able to understand me. But even if that was the case, at least this way she’d be able to figure out just what a weird blue wolf thing was. 

She listened at the door as she approached, intent on whatever might be going on inside. Sure enough, the area was completely inundated with smells—there were many creatures in this cabin, some of which might be a threat to her. But considering Rainbow had gone hoof to hoof with dragons before, she wasn’t going to be scared off. Even if Fluttershy’s bear friend did make it particularly troublesome to be here.

She approached the door carefully. But she could make out no voices from inside, not even faint ones. The knob was a little over her head, but she could probably reach it if she lifted up high enough. The first few times she flopped uselessly onto the floor, landing like something wet.

But the third time she got the knob in her mouth, and was able to twist. Unlocked, as usual. The door opened inward, taking her with it, but she caught herself on her paws easily enough. At least wolf things stood and walked in basically the same way as ponies did.

“Fluttershy, are you in here? I’m, uh… I think I need your help. Maybe a little bit? And before you say anything, it’s totally not my fault.”

For a few seconds there was nothing but silence in the cabin, and a breeze whistling through the open window. Which, the longer Rainbow heard it, the stranger it seemed. Fluttershy’s cabin was busy. But she couldn’t see any of them now.

Finally, from down the hall, Rainbow heard a single tiny voice. “I can’t help you right now.” Fluttershy, coming from inside her bedroom. Her voice was unusually faint, but still familiar. “Ask Zecora.”

“I mean maybe I would…” Rainbow began creeping forward, eyes alert for any of Fluttershy’s animals that got too aggressive enforcing what their master wanted. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She stopped in front of Fluttershy’s bedroom door, which was shut just like the front. She pushed it, but no good. She’d have to twist the knob too.

“Go away,” Fluttershy said again, a little more forcefully this time. Forcefully enough that Rainbow might’ve had pause, if it wasn’t for her following up a few seconds later. “I’m sorry if I sound a little cross with you right now, but I really don’t have the time to be helping anypony. Just trust me that I would love to if I could, and visit somepony else for help. Zecora maybe, or Twilight.”

Something rumbled on the other side, massive claws scraping at the wood. Rainbow backed away instinctively, feeling the house depress a little, and knowing what must be on the other side to make it do that. She tucked her tail in, big as it was, and waited.

A second later, and Fluttershy’s bear emerged from the other side of the room, swiftly shutting the door behind him. Rainbow tried to peak around him to whatever was going on beyond—the bedroom had been destroyed, with sheets and blankets and pillows everywhere. But she didn’t see Fluttershy. Where was her friend hiding?

“Go away,” the bear growled—though he actually sounded less angry about it than Fluttershy herself had when she said the same thing.

“Hey, I can understand you!” Rainbow found her fear fading fast—even though the bear towered over her, with claws as long as her muzzle, you didn’t think of someone who you could talk to as likely to rip off your face. Being able to understand the bear probably meant some other things too, but Rainbow wasn’t really the sort of pony to think them through. Let Twilight worry about that.

“Fluttershy! Fluttershy, I’m a weird blue wolf thing and I can understand your friend now and maybe you should just come out and talk to me?”

Silence. Even the bear waited for her response, seeming completely unfazed by Rainbow’s appearance. He barely even looked at her, in fact. 

But then a voice did answer from inside the bedroom. “Come in.”

“Finally.” 

Despite everything, Rainbow waited until the bear got out of the way. He seemed intent on watching her with every step, though she couldn’t quite guess at his emotions. She never showed her back to the animal, keeping low and submissive to the ground at all times—ready to run if she had to.

But she didn’t have to, as soon enough he had opened the door and moved out of her way. Rainbow hurried in, but whatever she might’ve said turned into a garbled mess at what she saw there. 

Fluttershy wasn’t in bed, she was curled up on the floor beside it. The reason she hadn’t left her bedroom was a familiar one: her friend no longer looked like a pony.

Like Rainbow Dash herself, the physical resemblances to the way she was supposed to look were obvious. She was still a similar creamy yellow, though her paws were brown. Her ears and tail were the strangest however, melting into something like leaves near their tips.

She was instantly struck with a sense of familiarity—Fluttershy hadn’t just gone through the same process, but ended up something that looked almost the same as she did. Except that she was a leafy wolf thing instead of a blue river wolf thing.

“The real question is, when does Discord pop out to laugh and take pictures?”

“I… don’t think it was him,” Fluttershy answered, shaking herself out and rising slowly from her pile of blankets and pillows. She made her way over, sniffing at Rainbow. “Discord would never pull a practical joke on me without a warning first, he knows I don’t like it. Something else did this.”

“Whatever it was, we can figure it out together.”
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coming to Fluttershy with a strange animal problem made sense. It was exactly the sort of advice a responsible pony like Twilight would’ve given her. Unfortunately for her, Fluttershy herself was hardly the most objective when it came to animals.

Getting inside had been enough of a challenge in itself. But now Rainbow was here, staring at her friend with an expectant expression. “So, Fluttershy. What kind of… wolf-monsters are we, exactly?”

Fluttershy was on her hooves—paws, circling around Rainbow and inspecting her without any of her usual embarrassment. If anything she seemed less worried about personal space than usual, sliding along Rainbow’s increasingly dry-feeling scales.

“Not wolves,” she corrected. “See your muzzle there? Wolves have a wider jaw to score tearing wounds on large game. Yours is narrow, for hunting rodents and small game. You’re a fox, Rainbow. I am too. But just like me, you have adaptations that I can’t really… I’ve never seen in any other creature before.”

“Smell weird,” the bear added helpfully. “Wet.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Fluttershy grinned up at him. “She does.”

Rainbow’s tail smacked into the cabin with a meaty, dry sound. She was going to have to find a well or something soon, it felt like her whole body was drying out. “I’m glad you can tell me what I am. But do you think you could help me figure out why this happened? Or more important, how we make it stop?”

“Stop?” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it’s amazing to finally understand the other creatures in the world? I really don’t know how the rest of you do it.”

“Just fine.” Rainbow glanced back at the open door, and nearly left for the bathroom. But then she saw the bear, and she resisted. Don’t want to get locked out again. “So you don’t know how to change us back?”

“Oh, no.” She looked away. “I haven’t thought about it. Isn’t that… more Twilight’s thing?”

“I thought this might be a curse or, mythical creature, or… something nearby might’ve caused it. But I guess not.” 

Rainbow might’ve said more, but she was drying out. Finally she couldn’t stand still any longer. She surged forward, shoving the door open and darting into the bathroom.

“Uh, Rainbow?”

She ignored her, darting to the bathtub and turning both taps all the way. Rainbow didn’t climb delicately in so much as flop awkwardly over the edge of the tub. She closed her eyes, exhaling as the water covered her sides, her mouth. It was a little warmer than she would’ve liked, but otherwise… 

Finally she could think straight again. Fluttershy doesn’t know how to change us back. Twilight will.

Some part of her had guessed they would need to get the unicorn involved sooner or later. 

“Rainbow? Do you think you should be… under the water like that?” Fluttershy’s voice was muffled by the layer of water over her head.

Rainbow emerged with a splash, propping her paws up on the edge of the tub and grinning. “You should really be impressed I lasted that long. Walking here in the sun was awful, and your house is so dry!”

“Uh…” She looked away. “If you say so. I think it’s nice. I’d like to go out in the sun, but… somepony might see me.”

“They’re going to see you, because we’re going to talk to Twilight.”

“We are?” Fluttershy’s face fell, then she nodded. “Yeah, we are. Talk to Twilight. It’s not like we have to make her change us back right away. If I want a little more time to spend with my friends… she could wait. Couldn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Rainbow nodded, though she didn’t think Twilight would wait. It wasn’t like they would have a way to ask with Fluttershy unable to translate for them. “Do you think Ponyville would be scared of us? Should we wait until it gets dark?”

“Uh…” Fluttershy shook her head. “I think they might’ve been scared a few years ago. But I send my animals into town all the time. As long as they see a familiar face, they’ll be fine.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Harry, would you please come with us into Ponyville?”

The bear looked away from her, somehow embarrassed by her question. Finally he nodded. “Could we get more berries?”

“Yes, Harry. We’ll get a whole basket.”

He nodded eagerly. “Then I’ll go.”

Rainbow took another few seconds under the surface of the water, letting the moisture soak through her scales and into her body. Ponyville was dry, and she’d be going back there.

It wasn’t just the bear that made her a little uncomfortable, either. There was something about Fluttershy herself, something she didn’t quite understand. Was she… in danger? No, that didn’t make sense! Fluttershy was her friend, her oldest and best friend so far as Rainbow as concerned. She’d been nothing but kind since she arrived.

But then they were on the road. The path to Ponyville could take only a minute or two to fly, but neither of them could do that anymore.

At least she had somepony else with her this time, so she wasn’t as easily distracted. More than once Rainbow saw a butterfly or some other insect dart across the path, and her desire to chase it down briefly flared.

She wasn’t the only one. Fluttershy stopped beside her, her own eyes following the oversized butterfly as it flitted through the air.

“I was right,” Fluttershy muttered, her voice distant and unfocused. Out in the sun there was no mistaking her bright green—mane? Hair? No, they looked like leaves, just hanging from her head. “The sun does feel nice.”

Rainbow glared up at the sky, wishing very much a nice rain had been scheduled for today. But there wasn’t one… and even if there was, it might not happen without her up there supervising the weather team. It was just harsh sunlight, slowly withering her. “I’m glad you enjoy it,” Rainbow said. “Oh, the bridge is coming up! Could you please wait by the river a sec? I’m gonna go swimming again before we go into town.”

“Sure.” Fluttershy nodded. “You do look like your natural habitat is in in the water somewhere. Does your tail actually work?” She nudged at it, and Rainbow twisted around, blushing. 

“It works fine! Just… I’ll be right back.”

She dropped under the surface, though this time she resisted the temptation to let herself lose focus and drift off. Swimming against the current was almost effortless, just an occasional twist of her body and an upward motion from her tail. It was just as natural as flying. I wish we had a nice big lake. I could take the whole thing for myself, and nopony could stop me.

Then she heard the music. 

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard music from Ponyville before. Every few weeks there was somepony who felt strongly enough about something that they wanted to sing. Sometimes those songs were contagious, and sometimes they weren’t. Rainbow was still a bit sour about the time she’d sung her way out of an escape room record.

It wasn’t just singing—was that an entire marching band? The surface of the water started to shake, or at least Rainbow imagined it did. Finally she popped her head up, climbing around to the other side of the bridge. “Do you hear that?”

Fluttershy had already moved further into town, humming along to the sound.

Rainbow could tell easily enough why, one of those voices was familiar. It was Pinkie Pie.

Rainbow squeaked as a line of singing ponies crossed the street in front of her, so engrossed in the music that they nearly crushed her. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

The music was too strong. They didn’t even look down.

Rainbow backed away, feeling her powerful frustration mixing with a rising… sick? Was she going to throw up? 

She turned to the side, right as a blast of water as thick around as her whole body emerged from her mouth, blasting into the side of a house and throwing her back a few steps.

Rainbow coughed, wiping the water away from her face, then looked around to see if anypony had noticed. She hadn’t just got the wall wet, but blasted through the plaster with the force of a fire hose, soaking the dirt into mud all around it.

“Ooops. S-sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what made me do that.” 

But there was no one to hear her nervous apology, no one even noticing that she had said something to begin with.

The line of marching ponies finally passed her by, letting her into the square. From the look of things, the crowd was most concentrated around Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie, did you have to do this today?

It was a bit of a strange song. Rainbow stopped to listen, waiting for an opening in the back of the crowd. Fluttershy was entirely gone, though her bear stood by the side of one building, humming along out of tune.

A nicer pony probably would’ve waited patiently for the song to end. But Rainbow wasn’t feeling nice. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t tall enough to see over anypony. She could still shove her way between them, grunting a little as she squeezed them to one side or the other. She could fit through almost anything it turned out, even if she squished a little with the effort, leaving a splash of water on anything she touched.

Finally she was through, right as the music swelled. She had just a moment to take in the insane scene in the center of town.

There was indeed a marching band, or rather, there were several brass and percussion members of an orchestra, wearing tuxedos and evening gowns and not seeming like they knew where they were. That wasn’t half as strange as what had happened right in front of the square, though.

Pinkie Pie was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Rainbow was transfixed by yet another weird fox-thing, though this one looked almost domesticated. She wore a set of bright pink ribbons, and her coat was perfectly groomed. She didn’t seem half as wild as Fluttershy or Rainbow herself.

She stood at the end of the line of ponies, apparently the one leading their song. And right behind her—three ponies Rainbow knew quite well. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had been singing along, as energetically as anypony else in the square.

But then Pinkie stopped singing. “You’re ready!” she said, beaming at them. And just like that, they started glowing, bright enough that Rainbow couldn’t see what was going on. Ponies stopped what they were doing as the music’s magic faded. The orchestra in particular looked panicked, and began hauling their oversized instruments towards the train station. A few ponies squealed and backed away, running from the magic in the square.

But the crusaders weren’t fast enough. The light faded a few seconds later, and the three of them were gone.

In their place were a set of three… fluffy cats? Rainbow shoved past the last of the ponies, ignoring the squeal of panic as she reached Pinkie and the new… foxes? Smaller than herself, though quite a bit furrier around the collar. Their fur was mostly brown, though there were some slight differences in shade that she thought suggested which was which. 

“Pinkie? What the buck are you doing?”

She was right about her guess, as though the voice hadn’t already been enough. She turned, grinning at Rainbow without a hint of embarrassment. “Oh, it worked! I knew I’d be able to keep my Pinkie Promise.” The ribbons around her neck moved, as though an unseen unicorn was levitating them. She helped each of the young foxes onto their paws. “You’re halfway to being as musical as me, you’ll see! Just like I promised!”
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight could tell something was wrong as she made her way down the castle steps. It wasn’t just that the usual flow of traffic into the castle had stopped, though that certainly made her confused. It wasn’t the agitation of the air raising her coat in ways that somehow suggested where many creatures were moving. It was probably the screaming. Yeah, that was definitely it.

Ponyville was no stranger to disasters—certainly it had faced more than its fair share since she’d been sent there, beginning with Nightmare Moon’s arrival and never really letting up. Apparently today was one of those.

Twilight hadn’t had much in the way of plans for what she’d do with her day once she escaped the castle—certainly moving towards a disaster seemed like a good idea. Heading directly towards danger was always the way she did things. Why should things be different now that she was a little closer to the ground? Besides, she was still on the lookout for her friends. The more of them she found, the more… well, she wasn’t sure yet, but it would probably be good.

The further into Ponyville she got, the more slammed doors and shuttered windows she saw. What few ponies she did see didn’t seem terribly happy to see her, and they darted away. Why are you afraid of a cat? Some part of her had realized that they might try to foalnap her—there were unsavory creatures like that, even in her home. But she had her magic, so she wasn’t too worried.

But there was nopony around to try, nopony at all until she made her way to Sugarcube Corner, and she saw the apparent epicenter of the town’s shock.

Starlight Glimmer will probably want to see what that was about. Or word might reach Canterlot, and Celestia could send somepony. Then again, if the trouble was in Ponyville, Celestia probably wouldn’t do anything for some time. She usually let Twilight deal with problems like this.

But what she saw outside Sugarcube Corner wasn’t the monster she’d expected to be rampaging. Rather, it was a collection of… foxes? 

She felt an instant connection to them, a sort of pseudo-familiar bond deep in her gut the same way she might’ve felt around other ponies normally. They’re like me.

And then came the horror. I’m not the only one this happened to. She didn’t run—even though the situation was urgent, it wasn’t that urgent. Urgent was getting sprayed with water, or something about to land on her. This was only “probably bad” urgent.

She stopped on the path, licking at the back of her paw as she looked them over. There were six in all—three that looked like younger versions of the other creatures, oversized foxes with strange proportions. The other three were more varied. One seemed like it belonged in a lake, one had leaves in its mane, and the third looked like somepony’s escaped pet.

She didn’t have to guess about their identities from the colors, which wouldn’t have been that hard. The blue one spoke with Rainbow’s voice, her back to Twilight as she advanced on the one with ribbons. “You used magic on them!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know what kind of magic that was, but you… you need to change them back!”

“Silly, that isn’t how needs work,” said bow-tie Pinkie, bouncing around Rainbow-fish and over to the three kits. “I need to breathe. You need to stay wet. But I don’t need to change them back. Actually, I’d be breaking a promise even if I could. But I… don’t think it works that way.”

She sat down, looking thoughtful. Then one of those strange ribbon things moved, and emerged from around the corner holding a cookie. She chewed thoughtfully on it, apparently thinking to herself over whatever was bothering her.

“What Rainbow’s saying is, umm…” leaf-Fluttershy said, her voice timid. “I think she’s, uh… not happy you made more foxes?”

“You can say that again!” Rainbow exclaimed. “We’re trying to get changed back! Discord or whoever set up this great little practical joke for all of us. We’ve had our laughs, and it’s time to put everything back. Before I dry out into a prune.”

“Twilight doesn’t seem to think so,” Pinkie said, speaking with her mouth full. “Just look at her. She hasn’t said a word.” One of the other ribbon-things lifted into the air of its own accord, as though an invisible unicorn were waving it at her. “Hi Twilight!”

The others spun, and Rainbow stalked down the path towards her. “You’re here! And… kitty? Is Pinkie right about you?”

Twilight nodded. She wasn’t going to dignify “kitty” with a response. Besides, she wasn’t done licking the dirt from her paw. Finally she rose to her paws, shaking herself out. “I didn’t have anything to say,” she began. “But now I do, and I’m… confused.” She walked past Rainbow, over to the nearest little kit that was struggling to stand. She lifted her from the mud with her magic, settling her down on her paws in front of her. “Who are you?”

“You’re so big…” said the fox in Sweetie Belle’s voice. “Princess Twilight, what’s going on?”

“You don’t remember?” Pinkie asked, her voice sounding suddenly hurt. “We had that whole song and everything about how you could be anything you wanted to be, and evolving was just like choosing your own cutie mark and how ready you’d be…”

None of that made any sense to Twilight. But one thing did make sense, cutting through all of Pinkie’s other insanity. “They were ponies before?” she asked, glancing back towards Rainbow. “Am I understanding this right?”

“Yes,” Rainbow said. “I saw it happen. They were following her through Ponyville, then… bang.”

“Not like us,” Fluttershy added helpfully. “I woke up this way. Um… I’m guessing you all did too.”

Twilight nodded weakly. Her mind was already racing with what that meant. This wasn’t just some strange spell that had struck her—there were other victims. If three of her friends were here, she could guess what might’ve happened to the other two.

Thank Celestia I found Pinkie first. She could’ve spread this even further. “Pinkie,” she said, making her way over to her and glowering. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Oooh.” Pinkie grinned. “I do love promises.”

“You’re not going to do this again,” she said. “Promise me you won’t change anypony else. We still don’t know what happened to us, or why. We don’t know how difficult it will be to make a cure.”

“There is none,” Pinkie said, as though it were obvious. “But that’s not so bad. What’s so great about being a pony, anyway?”

Twilight shuddered at her simple sincerity, but she wasn’t about to question her. Not with more pressing worries on her mind. Right now, Starlight Glimmer didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know how to reverse it, or even if it could be reversed.

A brief, horrifying image flashed through her mind, of an Equestria that ground to a halt under the onslaught of strange fox-things. Could the rest of us do that without meaning to? I wouldn’t mind a companion…

She shook her head to drive off that thought, unsure of where it could’ve come from and not terribly interested in finding out. “I need you to promise, Pinkie,” she said again. “Please, trust me. We don’t know what’s going on, and we haven’t even found the others. I’m betting Applejack and Rarity are feeling a lot like we are. We should get everypony together before we make any decisions.”

Pinkie’s eyes narrowed for a few more seconds, before she finally grinned. “Okay, Twi, I promise. Until we get Applejack and Rarity.” She turned towards the little kits, looking down expectantly. “I bet they know where they are!”

That made sense. Besides, the little kits would need protecting. It was as obvious as the sun being good and the oncoming night something to be avoided. She’d have to get back to the castle before it got dark. Would Ponyville still be freaking out by then?

Twilight bent down in front of the one she’d helped earlier, prodding her with a paw. “Sweetie Belle, have you seen Rarity?”

She shook her head. “N-not today. She wasn’t out when I got up for school, and I didn’t come home when it was over.”

Rarity did like her beauty rest. Twilight hadn’t ever understood it before, but maybe she could now. She could go for a nap herself.

But not now. She wouldn’t get a nap until after she saved the world. Maybe she could find Spike’s old bed, that had been about the right size…

“Which one of you is Apple Bloom?” she asked, turning to the remaining kits. One had darker fur than the other, and their eyes were a little different, but otherwise… they were both equally adorable so far as she was concerned.

Neither of them had the right look to grow up into a cat like her, though. Maybe Sweetie could. She should keep her close, teach her a few things and see where that went.

“Me,” said the silvery-furred one, stepping forward towards her. “If you’re askin’ about my sister, I don’t know. She usually gets up for chores a mite before I do. There wasn’t breakfast waitin’ for me when I got up today like usual, but… that happens sometimes. Applejack is just… workin’ so hard that she forgets. I just grabbed a few apples and that was good enough. Didn’t… go home to see her either.”

“Right.” Twilight spun back around, facing the others. “We’ve got a real problem on our hooves.”

“Paws,” Pinkie corrected. “We’ve all got paws, though some are more… pawy than others.”

Twilight nodded. “Paws, fine. In case you ponies don’t know, everypony can’t understand us. We’re on our own.” 

“I know,” Rainbow said, exasperated. “Fluttershy here might’ve been able to help us, but she got cursed too.”

“Sorry,” Fluttershy squeaked, pawing nervously at the ground. “I didn’t mean to. And I don’t think it was Discord, Twilight. If that’s what you’re gonna say.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I might’ve, but Starlight already tested me. No chaos magic.” No magic at all, actually. But that deeply disturbed her, and telling them that would probably make things harder on them too.

“I think the first thing to do is get everypony together. In… my castle, that place is huge. And safe. It’s got powerful magical charms on it, so it could…” keep us contained if we’re a danger to Equestria. “Maybe help fighting this curse. Even if it can’t, it has the lab we’ll need for sure. So… why don’t we split up. Two of us can go off and get Rarity, and the other two can get Applejack.”

“Dibs on Applejack,” Rainbow snapped, before her ears flattened, and she winced. “Uh, I mean… I’ll go get her. And since, uh… since we’re going out of town, Fluttershy should be with me too. In case of… animal things.”

“Animal things,” Twilight repeated, raising an eyebrow. But she didn’t press the point—she wanted to be with Pinkie in any case, since she’d done some magic on the kits, and she needed to understand how it worked.

“What about us?” Sweetie Belle asked, apparently hearing her thoughts. “We can’t just stay here alone! Somepony might step on us! Or… maybe an owl will get hungry, or we’ll slip into a puddle and not be able to get out, or…”

“You don’t have to stay here, silly!” Pinkie lifted her up by her forelegs, settling her on her back. “You can come with us! Your sister will want to see if you’re okay.”

“I’ll go with Rainbow!” Scootaloo said. “Err… I mean Apple Bloom. Who will be going with Rainbow to see her sister, and… you get the idea.”

Twilight nodded weakly. “So, everypony got that. Get the others, bring them to my castle, don’t go anywhere else.”

“And if we see any other foxes?” Rainbow asked.

“Bring them too,” Twilight said. “Just… hope you don’t. There’s already too many different kinds of us. I’m not sure how I’ll keep track of you all.”
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was something subtly unnerving about seeing Ponyville so completely deserted that there weren’t even ponies to stare at her as she walked past outside their windows. She knew they must still be there, cowering somewhere. Ponyville’s population had learned well by now to lay low whenever there was danger and wait for the princess and her friends to make the town safe again.

Unfortunately for them, the princess and her friends were exactly the danger right now. Twilight didn’t feel particularly dangerous as she made her way through town, though there was a part of her that grew increasingly frustrated with her dirty paws. She’d never minded the dirt on her hooves before, so why was this so upsetting?

She wouldn’t let it bother her, not when she had Pinkie to keep an eye on. Pinkie, and Sweetie Belle, who had quickly grown nervous around the bow-tie fox and wanted somewhere else to ride. Twilight obliged her, reluctantly, mostly because it seemed like she would be a better influence. Maybe the kit would grow up to be a little more like her.

“What did you do to the Crusaders?” Twilight asked, as they approached the boutique. “What kind of spell can… ribbon foxes cast?”

“I don’t think that’s what I’m called,” Pinkie said, scrunching up her nose. “But come to think of it, I don’t really know what I am. I guess I should think about it. Probably there’s a good name.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “That isn’t what I asked. What did you do to the Crusaders?”

Pinkie skipped along ahead of her, ribbons moving through the air without any regard for the way the wind was blowing. “I don’t know. They just… seemed like they wanted to make a promise with me. It didn’t seem right not to agree. They just had that look, and I knew how to help them. Wouldn’t you?”

There must be some instinct in our new species. Pinkie is being controlled by it as much as the rest of us are. 

If only Twilight had her unicorn powers, she might’ve been able to learn some of what was going on. As it was, she could only rely on old-fashioned observation. “What about you, Sweetie. Do you know what happened?”

The kit squirmed on her back—she was much smaller up there than any filly would’ve been. Some part of Twilight wondered if there was enough room in that little brain for a whole pony. “I, uh… I think… I saw Pinkie, but I didn’t know what she was. She started talking to us, but it didn’t sound like talking. Just… ‘Sylveon,’ over and over.”

“Sylveon!” Pinkie repeated, beaming. “That’s what I’m called! It’s so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out. I mean, I’m still Pinkie, but now I know which Pinkie. Sylveon Pinkie.”

Twilight ignored her, and she waited for Sweetie to do the same. But the kit didn’t have much more to say. “When we, uh… we tried to figure out whose pet she was. She seemed magical, so we thought she was yours, or maybe Princess Cadance’s with how pink she was. But then she started singing, and we just… sorta sang along?”

Twilight groaned. “So you don’t remember agreeing to be turned into a fox?”

“No!” Sweetie squeaked. “We didn’t, um… even understand her, really. Except that she was being friendly. And maybe that she was trying to give us something? It’s a little confusing trying to remember it…”

“And I did,” Pinkie declared. “If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else. It’s just a matter of time.”

Twilight ignored that too, though the terrifying implications were enough to revive some of her old pony fears. So far she’d seen no further sign one of them might be contagious, but Pinkie seemed so sure…

They reached the Carousel Boutique without further trouble, and Pinkie opened the door with one of her ribbons. She seemed able to use them almost as well as a unicorn would’ve done with their magic. Maybe that was why she didn’t mind being a fox as much?

“Closed…” Sweetie muttered, peering up at the sign. “She would’ve turned it around by now for sure.”

“Unless she’s hiding,” Pinkie declared. “Because she’s a fox too. Or… not a fox. I’m Sylveon, I don’t know what the others are. Did you hear, Twilight?”

“Espeon,” she repeated. She wasn’t even sure where the name had come from. Maybe Spike had said it? She’d heard it somewhere for sure. Or heard someone thinking it. “That’s not my name, though.” Twilight shivered once, watching her breath puff out in front of her. Even Sweetie Belle ducked lower into her fur, the only warm patch on her back.

“She’s here,” Pinkie declared, pointing towards the stairs. A faint mist billowed about the room, flowing slowly down like a waterfall. “Let’s get her outside as quick as we can. I don’t wanna freeze.”

Twilight followed her in a series of delicate hops, shivering and shaking out her paws with each step. Her fur was better at keeping out the cold than it had ever been as a pony, though she still didn’t like it. The sooner she was back into the sun, the better.

At the top of the stairs were several open doors and one that was shut. Rarity’s studio, Sweetie’s room, and the bathroom were all open, with only Rarity’s own bedroom still shut.

Twilight approached, tapping it a few times with her paw. It seemed the proper thing to do.

“Go away!” came Rarity’s voice from inside, just a little panicked. “I’m, uh… I’m not decent! I don’t think I’ll be… coming out for a good long while. I’m sorry, Sweetie. Buy yourself whatever you want for dinner.”

“It’s not about dinner,” Sweetie called back. “There’s no point waiting for her, Twilight.”

“Right.” Twilight focused on the door, twisting the knob. It was locked, but that was hardly enough to dissuade her. She twisted the lock around from the other side with her magic, then pushed it open.

A wave of superchilled air hit her like a physical blow, turning to frost on her coat and making poor Sweetie start shivering. Twilight shook herself out, carefully enough that she wouldn’t dislodge the little fox on her back.

“We know what happened,” Pinkie called, bouncing her way in. The ground was covered in a thin layer of ice, but Pinkie somehow managed to step only on clear spots. “You don’t need to hide, Rarity. We got changed too.”

Rarity’s bedroom was an absolute mess, with clothes scattered all over the floor, and several large forts of blankets piled up around her oversized bed. A bed with just a mattress on it now.

For a few seconds there was no response, then something emerged from the corner of the room. Twilight was beyond being surprised by the strange way they looked by now—a pale blue fox, with what looked like little crystals of water trailing from her head. Or… no, they were too flexible for that. She could see a little of her friend’s characteristic elegance there, despite her distress. Her fur looked especially radiant compared to theirs.

“I’m not the only one? I haven’t just been… cursed with something?”

“You have been cursed,” Twilight said honestly. “But we all were. You can share it instead of going alone.”

“I’m not sure that makes me feel better.” Rarity emerged from the blankets, shaking herself out. Somehow the air got even colder around her, as though the room were going to start snowing. A faint mist of chill followed her paws with every step. Twilight didn’t get much closer, even if Sweetie obviously wanted her to.

After a few seconds of frustration, Sweetie Belle leapt off her back, darting over to her sister. “Rarity!” The kit leaned up to embrace her, apparently oblivious of the cold. Maybe all that fluff was good for something after all.

“Sweetie, dear,” Rarity said, stroking her back with a paw. “I’m… I can’t say I’m thrilled you’re part of this too.”

Twilight almost told her the truth about that—but thought better of it. It wasn’t like Rarity wouldn’t find out on her own eventually. And if we don’t do something about this, Sweetie might just be the first of many. “We’re trying to gather everypony in my castle,” she said. “I’m hoping Starlight Glimmer should be able to figure out how to fix it.”

“Your… apprentice, right.” Rarity finally released the kit, stalking her way over to Twilight and sniffing at her. There were a few seconds of discomfort between them, as though they were about to disagree about whose territory this was. But Twilight backed away a little, her ears flattening. This was Rarity’s bedroom, so it made sense. “Do you know what we are?”

“I’m a Sylveon!” Pinkie said, grinning. “And Twilight’s an Espeon. I don’t know about you or your sister, but we’ll figure it out. We just need to get some other ponies to tell us.”

“Espeon,” Rarity repeated, shaking her head. “Can’t say I’ve heard of the creature. That’s a fetching gem on your forehead though. I’ve never seen that particular shade of crimson.”

“Thanks,” Twilight said, puffing out her chest a little, before turning for the stairs. “Get anything you want to carry and meet us downstairs. We’re going to the castle.”

“Nopony minds?” Rarity asked, confused. “I mean… if I don’t know what we are, I’m sure the others don’t either.”

“They’re terrified of us,” Pinkie said. “But they didn’t bother us on the way out here.”

“Fantastic,” Rarity whispered. “Well, no matter. I’ll just, uh…” She bent down, taking a light blue scarf from the ground and wrapping it once around her neck. “There we are. Accessorized. That way ponies will know I’m not somepony’s escaped pet. Let’s go.”

Twilight led the way, hopping down the stairs several at a time. By the time she was outside again, her tail was high behind her. There was no reason not to think that she was their leader. Wasn’t she a princess? That… mattered, didn’t it?”

“I thought I heard you stalking around this morning,” Rarity muttered, as they made their way outside. “Were you cursed this morning too, Sweetie? I’m sorry I locked you out.”

“No,” Sweetie said. She was scampering alongside them now, having to take several little steps to every one of their long strides. “Pinkie changed me and the Crusaders, uh… maybe an hour ago?”

“Did she?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure she’s got an excellent explanation for why she would’ve done that.”

Twilight interrupted Pinkie, silencing her with a glare. She didn’t want to turn this into an argument now. “I don’t think she could control it,” Twilight said, meeting Rarity’s eyes. “We’re, uh… I think the other ponies might be right to be afraid of us. The best thing we can do is get into the castle as soon as possible, so we can’t hurt anypony else.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Rarity said, sounding entirely unconvinced. “I’ll… yes, the castle.” She looked around the street, glancing up and down at the ponies who were just now making their way out of their homes. Any who looked in their direction quickly darted the other way, and by the time they’d made it back to main street, it was completely deserted.

At least there were no royal guards to attack them on their way back to the castle. Twilight walked at the front of the group, glaring at the others when they tried to move past her. She was the leader, and she’d push them back with her powers if she needed to. She was the biggest, it was only natural.

Things had definitely changed at the tree-castle. Celestia’s carriage was now parked outside, with several Solar Guard to draw it. Instead of trying to fight them, the ponies backed away as they approached, clearing the way to the door but slowly closing in behind them.

You’re lucky I wanted to come here. You couldn’t make me stay if I didn’t want to.
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At least the day was wearing on as they made their way to Sweet Apple Acres. As the sun got lower, Rainbow felt less like she was going to dry out. She had to be psyching herself out in any case—no way a creature could really be so connected to the water and survive.

Besides, she’d had enough water in her to somehow cut through a wall. There were no other ponies on the road, so no worries about anything happening along the way. Maybe everypony is on their way to Canterlot by now, getting as far away from here as possible. Attack of the Magical Foxes did seem like it could be a sweet new Daring Do book.

“It’s nice out here,” Fluttershy said conversationally, as they passed between the trees up the hill to the farm. “Nicer than in town. More… welcoming.”

“I do like the shade,” Rainbow said. “But I’d like it better if we were just back to normal. How long do you think it takes Twilight to fix us? A few hours? I’ve got Wonderbolt practice coming up in three days, and I don’t think I’d do well at my maneuvers with this.” She lifted her oversized tail over her back for emphasis, though she let it settle behind her quickly.

“They’ll understand,” Fluttershy said. “I wouldn’t be in such a rush. It’s not often ponies get a chance to understand animals the way we are. Even if we are magical animals.”

“I’m with Rainbow,” said one of the kits beside her, Scootaloo’s voice so small that Rainbow Dash almost missed it completely. Apple Bloom was riding Fluttershy’s back, but Scootaloo was too proud for that. Even though they had a bear with them. “The sooner we can fix this, the better. Nopony should be this small.”

“My sister was,” Apple Bloom said. “She didn’t like it much. I thought it was kinda cute. Now I’m… understanding why she felt that way.”

“I think it’s fascinating,” Fluttershy said. “Not that I don’t understand why you’d want to be back to normal. But looking at you… I’ve seen plenty of creatures with complex life cycles before, but not many higher mammals that are so different between their adolescent stage and adulthood. It almost seems like you kits don’t have whatever elemental magic you get when you’re older.” She frowned. “I don’t think parties are an element.”

“Maybe it’s more abstract?” Apple Bloom suggested. “Elements ‘a Harmony aren’t like… fire and water either.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Rainbow said, though there wasn’t any actual anger in it. Only amusement. “She’s having way too much fun.”

“I am,” Fluttershy said firmly. “And I’m not going to let you convince me not to.”

The front gate was shut, but at their size it hardly mattered. They walked under easily, up towards the old farmhouse. Rainbow tensed in anticipation of an attack from Applejack’s dog, or at least some friendly slobbering—but she didn’t come either.

She did keep her eyes open, scanning the field for any sign of Applejack. Despite everything, there was still a chance that the farmpony might have been spared their fate. 

But her nose told her a different story. Even as they reached the farmhouse, she could smell something inside, something that made her attentive to it the same way Fluttershy and even the kits did. Applejack hadn’t gotten out of this, and she was here. 

Should I feel guilty I’m relieved?

“Now be careful around her family,” Fluttershy said. “Twilight didn’t, um… didn’t want us to spread this. If Pinkie did, there’s a chance that the rest of us can too.”

“Nopony else in town got small like us,” Scootaloo said. “I think we’ll be fine so long as we don’t make promises. Or… sing?”

“I don’t think that’s actually what did it,” Fluttershy said. 

But Rainbow wasn’t the kind of pony to wait patiently and think things through—much less so now that she wasn’t a pony at all.

Applejack’s farmhouse didn’t have doors that locked, so all she had to do was reach up and push. Not a unicorn house, so there wasn’t anything to worry about with knobs either.

“Applejack!” she called, glancing around the ground floor. “AJ, we know what happened and we’re here to help!”

A figure appeared from the kitchen, eyes wide as she stared at her. 

Granny Smith was wearing an apron, and from the smell of it she’d been cooking something. “What in tarnation is a Vaporeon?” she asked, bad eyes scanning the room for almost five full seconds before she settled on them.

“Granny!” Apple Bloom leapt off Fluttershy’s back, scampering across the ground towards her. She made it all the way to one of her hooves, wrapping her little paws around her.

“Well I’ll be.” Granny Smith looked down, staring at her. “If this ain’t the strangest thing I saw since the zap apple harvest of 81, I just don’t know what is.”

At least the bear didn’t follow them inside. 

But Rainbow wasn’t really patient enough to sit through this reunion, however touching it might be. She needed to see that her friend was okay. And some part of her was morbidly curious to see just what she’d become. Would she be adorable, like the little foxes, or more interesting in some other way?

Applejack’s room was at the end of the house, and for the first time Rainbow could remember the door was shut before she got there.

“Hey Apples, friends are here.” She nudged the door with one paw, and it swung only a few inches before it hit something and came to a sudden stop.

“I ain’t in the mood today,” Applejack answered from the other side. “Granny should ‘a sent you away, Rainbow. It ain’t the time.”

She sounded normal to her—but so had Fluttershy. Other creatures might hear them differently, but Rainbow didn’t have a way to experience that herself. 

Rainbow braced her hindlegs against the old wood, then shoved with her forelegs as hard as she could. As she expected, Applejack’s dresser was in front of the door—but that wouldn’t stop somepony determined.

It slid forward another foot or so, enough room for her to poke her head inside.

Applejack hadn’t torn her room apart the way Fluttershy had. She sat up in bed, watching angrily. But her anger faded as she finally saw her. “What in tarnation are you?”

“Not a clue,” Rainbow said, sliding the rest of the way through the doorway. It wasn’t quite wide enough, but she was so flexible—just a little pressure, and things worked themselves out, sliding like water under her scales. 

She sat on her haunches near the doorway, grinning up at Applejack. “Wait, that’s not true. Granny Smith just said Vaporeon. I guess that’s what I am. I don’t have all the names yet… but it doesn’t matter. Twilight’s gonna fix this.”

“Wait, she knows already?”

Applejack hopped down off her bed, making her way over—and finally Rainbow got a good look at her.

She was bright orange, with so much fluff that she was just begging to be snuggled. She resisted only thanks to the knowledge that Apple Bloom might be following her in at any moment, and that the tiny kit would be able to get in through a half-open door without even trying.

Applejack’s mane and tail didn’t even seem like they’d changed much, just gotten a lot fluffier.

But Applejack was still talking, apparently not as distracted by how Rainbow looked as much as Rainbow was distracted with her. So pretty typical there too. “Don’t tell me you marched through Ponyville looking like that. I bet you’d scare half the town.”

“Didn’t scare anypony until Pinkie…” Then she stopped, trailing off. “Look, it’s not just us two. Fluttershy is out there, and she’s got leaves growing in her hair. Twilight is some kinda cat, Pinkie has these creepy ribbons that move on their own… I’m sure Rarity is all spooky and dark or something.”

“All the Elements, huh?” Applejack sighed. “I was hopin’ it was some kinda bad dream. I’d wake up and… be back to normal. This mornin’ I woke up and right near burned the farmhouse down. All this dry wood around me, just beggin’ for it…” 

Her eyes widened, with a pain that few ponies understood. Her brother knew, and Granny Smith. But not many others.

Rainbow did, though. She hurried over, resting her head on Applejack’s shoulder. It didn’t feel quite as nice as when she was a pony, but she could make it work. Even if her friend felt uncomfortably warm. Something told her that she wasn’t in as much danger of burning as Applejack was from her moisture.

“You’d never hurt anypony,” she said. “Don’t even think about it. There aren’t going to be any more fires on the apple farm.”

“I know,” Applejack gasped. Her voice cracked, and she sounded like she might break into tears—but then she cleared her throat, moving away from her. “Is it just us? Anypony else come down with this… weird sickness? Or is it somethin’ to do with the Elements specific-like?”

“Well…” Rainbow turned away. “Why don’t you see for yourself. We split up to get you—every one of us is going back to Twilight’s castle to try and fix this.”

“But you said Twilight was a cat,” Applejack said, following close behind. She shoved sideways against the dresser, leaving dark pawprints in the wood almost like burn marks. But it didn’t actually catch fire, and soon enough she was following her out again. “How is a cat going to put this right, even if she probably is the smartest cat in Equestria?”

“I don’t think she is,” Rainbow said. “But Starlight Glimmer is pretty smart too, right? She almost ended the whole world that one time, so she can probably fix a few foxes. Or maybe Princess Celestia has to do it.” She shrugged. “Some smart pony will fix things. They always do.”

Applejack followed her out into the hallway, all the way back to the kitchen.

They weren’t even halfway there when a set of little paws skittered along the ground past Rainbow, so fast she barely even saw the little blur of brown fur. “Sis, it got you too! I knew I should’a checked on you this mornin’. I’m sorry I kept goin’ to school!”

Applejack stopped dead in the hall, embracing Apple Bloom much more easily than Granny Smith had. But if Apple Bloom seemed uncomfortable with how warm Applejack was, she didn’t show it. 

“Hold on.” Applejack pushed her a few inches away, looking down and meeting her eyes. “I know your friends go to that school, but you ain’t that dedicated. You got… blasted by the same magic as the Elements, and you went to school anyway? On those little hooves? Did you have to run all mornin’ to get there?”

“No,” Apple Bloom said. “I was a pony until a little while ago, when Pinkie Pie changed us.”

The air in the little farmhouse seemed suddenly hot—the way it had felt outside in direct sunlight, during the height of noonday. But nothing near her actually burned.

“Pinkie’s done some mighty strange things…” Applejack began. “But are you actually sayin’ she did this on purpose?”

“I… think so?” Apple Bloom tilted her head to one side. “It’s kinda hard to tell why Pinkie Pie does everything, even if she was a fox. But there was this whole song, and some promises, and… my friends and I are small now. I’m sorry I wasn’t nicer to you when you were small!”    

Applejack patted her on the head with a paw, shoving past her to Rainbow. “You didn’t say anythin’ about mah sis.”

“I said you had to see for yourself!” Rainbow argued. “I didn’t lie! I just thought it would be better to get it over with all at once.”

Applejack wavered for a moment, before nodding curtly. She glanced briefly at the kitchen, where Granny Smith still sat, watching them. The old pony didn’t seem to be able to understand a word of what they were saying, but maybe she didn’t care. 

“Granny, I’m goin’ into town,” Applejack said. “I’ve got to talk to Pinkie. I can’t wait to hear her explanation for what she did to Apple Bloom. It better be apple-buckin’ fantastic.”
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some part of Rainbow resisted as she made her way back towards Ponyville. The town might be familiar, but it was also so dry. Sweet Apple Acres had its own little watering hole, and there were rivers all around too. Wouldn’t she rather spend her time there? Any of those might be her territory, but Ponyville was just all wrong.

It was no comfort to her that Fluttershy seemed to be thinking the same thing. Either that, or she kept looking back longingly at the Everfree in the distance because she’d left the oven on in her cottage. Rainbow had a pretty good idea she knew which it was.

“So what do you reckon happened to cause all this?” Applejack asked, as they made their way down the trail towards Ponyville. “Did anything happen that might’ve… when were we in the same place at the same time?”

“Almost every day,” Fluttershy said weakly. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to guess that easy.”

“Right.” Applejack sighed. “But if Pinkie could… do this to my sis, then maybe something similar happened when we were together.”

“Who cares what did it?” Rainbow asked. “What’s the point of keeping smart unicorns around if they can’t figure out smart stuff and put us back to normal?” She lowered her voice. “Twilight wouldn’t even make me a griffon for a day, but I’ve been like this for hours now.”

As they closed in on Ponyville, Rainbow could make out pony outlines. So life had gone back to normal since Pinkie’s little musical number. Maybe Twilight had managed to keep her under control, because she couldn’t make out any other foxes.

As they crossed the bridge, a few ponies pointed in their direction, and nervous gasps spread through the crowd. Nopony attacked them, though plenty pointed or glared at them. And everypony kept their distance.

“I don’t see why they’re so afraid,” Applejack muttered darkly. “We can’t be the worst thing that ever walked through Ponyville. How many times has the town been attacked before?”

“If I, uh… if I had to guess, I think they probably remember what happened before,” Fluttershy whispered. “With Pinkie. They probably can’t tell us apart very well.”

Applejack laughed. “You’re kiddin’ me. We don’t look nothin’ alike. Look at Rainbow and me. We’re probably not even from the same, uh… place where animals come from. The zoo I guess.”

Fluttershy scoffed. “You’re not taking this very seriously.”

At least the castle was waiting for them. Rainbow’s eyes widened as she noticed Celestia’s royal carriage parked outside, and the nervous-looking guardsponies milling about in front of each. Ponies from both the Solar and Lunar Guards. Now you shouldn’t be afraid of us. That’s just silly.

“Woah.” Applejack slowed to a stop in front of the door, glancing between each of them. “They’re both here? It can’t be that big a deal, can it?”

“There’s more of them?” one of Luna’s bats whispered. Probably thought they couldn’t hear, but joke was on him with her stupid huge fox ears. “You think they’re contagious too?”

“Just stay away,” the other bat whispered. “They’re more afraid of us than we are of them.”

“We are the Elements of Harmony,” Rainbow said, pausing only long enough to glare at the bats before sliding past them to the castle’s huge entrance. It was never locked, so all she had to do was push with her forelegs and they could make their way in.

She was struck immediately by the sudden silence, enough that she almost wondered if they’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. Where were the servants preparing a formal dinner for Twilight’s endless stream of diplomatic guests? Where were the housekeepers and the decorators? Where were the tourists?

There wasn’t a single pony in the vast lobby, not one lurking on the stairs. Maybe that was for the best—at least without ponies around, she didn’t have to feel as small.

“I don’t like it,” Fluttershy said, shutting the door behind them, her voice echoing through the huge empty space. “This doesn’t seem… normal.”

“Of course it ain’t normal.” Applejack marched past her, scooping up her sister on her way to the stairs, then taking them in bounds two at a time. “We’re dogs, and Ponyville is panicked.”

Rainbow followed behind her, only a little frustrated that she didn’t seem as mobile. Her body didn’t want to jump distances like that—now if they’d been in the water, she had a good idea about which of them would do better getting around.

She crested the stairs to Twilight’s vast throne room, and there she found the missing creatures. Rather than bouncing with energy, they seemed largely subdued. Twilight curled up on one of the thrones, tucked in beside a cushion. Rarity sat in a corner, carving little bits of ice with her claws. Or at least, she couldn’t imagine another fox finding time to pick out a matching scarf. Pinkie arranged a display of treats on the table, using those weird ribbon-things to lift and move them into place as a unicorn might’ve done.

And there was a new one here. A black fox, taller than she was and probably even bigger than Twilight, with faintly glowing blue rings on her tail and body. She paced back and forth in front of one of the windows.

Great, so there’s even more kinds of us. This is worse than a Wonderbolts test. “We’re back,” Rainbow announced. “Found Applejack. She’s something new, just like we were afraid of. Nopony else that we saw.”

It wasn’t getting any easier to adjust to just how strange her own voice sounded. Not another language exactly, but… similar. “Who’s the new one?”

The new one bound towards her, far better coordinated than Rainbow would’ve expected. And taller too, a full head taller. She seemed much bigger, though some of that might’ve just been how poofy she was.

“Equestria’s Elements of Harmony were not the only ones who suffered so drastically at the hooves of cruel fate,” Princess Luna the fox said. “I too am suffering. Word from the Crystal Empire is dire as well.”

“Oh.” Rainbow bounded for the nearest throne, where Twilight was curled up. “Shouldn’t you be helping to fix this?”

Twilight sat up, shaking herself out and stretching like a cat. Finally she bounded down to the floor, meeting Rainbow’s eyes. “I would like to,” she said. “But I’m suffering… instincts. Very confusing, can’t really concentrate on spells right now. Starlight Glimmer will have to fix it. And Celestia. They know what they’re doing, so why should we worry? The spell might just wear off on its own.”

“I am not so optimistic as she,” Princess Luna said. “This doesn’t have the sense of a spell about it. Waking up this way… it feels like an attack. But as to the source, or their motives, I cannot even speculate. Equestria has many enemies, but none are so… fluffy.”

“I just want you to tell me what the hay got into you that you thought it was a good idea to go and get my sister involved in this!” Applejack yelled, loud enough that every creature in the room stopped to stare. 

Applejack stood at the base of the table, glaring up at Pinkie where she worked. At least her little sister wasn’t riding her back anymore.

Pinkie hopped down to the seat, settling into a comfortable position on her haunches there. “You smell upset, Applejack. Maybe you’d like a cookie? I just finished baking these.” She held one out with one of her ribbons, grinning innocently at Applejack.

Applejack shoved the offered treat aside with an angry paw. “I thought you were responsible!” she said. “I know it ain’t unusual for things that attack Equestria to start in Ponyville. Feels like it happens every week these days. But the right thing to do was get her as far away as possible! Not get her right in with the rest of us! How are she and her friends going to go to school like that?”

Pinkie stared down at the ruined cookie of the floor. It didn’t even seem like she could hear the fox. Rainbow made her way over, and several of the others did as well. The tension all around them was thick enough she could practically feel it sticking to her paws.

Would Applejack really attack her?

“You say it like they didn’t have a choice,” Pinkie argued, a little louder than before. Nothing could get her upset faster than ruining a dessert. “There’s no compulsion in a promise, Applejack. Anypony who can listen can decide. I was really just giving them a head start.”

Applejack’s fur stood on end, her tail raised high behind her and her ears swept back. “A buckin’ head start? You’re planning on doing this to more ponies? You want this?”

“Applejack, darling, I think you should take a deep breath,” Rarity called. She hadn’t actually gotten much closer—but with as cold as she felt, Rainbow could imagine why. All this heat couldn’t be good for her. “I’m upset too. Sweetie went through the same thing. But I don’t think Pinkie can control herself. She’s an animal too. We’re… designed, or… Fluttershy, are you one of those foxes? Can you explain it?”

“Instinct,” Fluttershy said weakly. “And it could be. It’s too early to get mad when we don’t understand.”

“I understand plenty, thanks,” Applejack said. “Pinkie, how would you feel if I’d done this to your family? You’ve got sisters too.”

Pinkie didn’t seem to be taking Applejack’s anger very seriously. She bounced a few steps away from her, her ribbons trailing through the air behind her with every bound. “I guess they’ll probably change too, yeah. Wonder which kind Maud would be. You think we’ve seen them all? Maybe there’s a kind of fox for rocks, she’d like that.”

Applejack fumed—literally, as smoke rose from along her back. Then she roared, and a gout of flame like dragonfire emerged from her mouth, blasting across the room towards Pinkie.

The fox just happened to be jumping at that moment, and she changed directions in the air, landing on the other side of a throne. 

The crystal lit up orange as the flames licked against it, and the cushion resting on it caught fire. The tapestry hanging on the wall behind it caught fire as well, filling the room with bright smoke.

“Well that wasn’t very nice,” Pinkie said, emerging from behind the chair only after Applejack’s flames had died off. “I think you need to calm down.”

She leapt into the air, higher than seemed possible even for those long legs, and when she landed swirling clouds of pink mist appeared from where her paws touched, exploding through the room and making it difficult to see even the outlines of the friendship map or the other creatures.

“You’re burning my house down!” Twilight called, sounding almost as upset as Applejack had been. She lifted Applejack up into the air, holding her in place. But that didn’t stop her from letting loose with another blast of fire, this time aimed at Twilight.

Before Rainbow could blink, chaos had fully descended, and the throne room had turned into a battlefield.

She dodged out of the way of flashes of strange magic, or flames that she wasn’t that afraid of, all things considered. Mostly she was looking for the little ones—there, that was Scootaloo, backing away from the fight. 

Rainbow scooped her up, the way she might’ve done for an earth pony who fell from the edge of a cloud. “Better get you out of here,” she said, as icicles as thick as her whole body sprouted from the floor a few feet away, shattering bits of crystal and knocking one of the thrones over.

“The others!” Scootaloo urged. “Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle! Get them too!”

“Right.” Rainbow dodged through the chaos, ignoring everything except the faint cries she could hear in the background.

She found them crouched beside a bookshelf, huddled together in a corner with chaos all around them. “Get on!” Rainbow said, gesturing over her shoulder. “We’re getting out of here!”
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight wasn’t sure when the smoke finally cleared. She didn’t fight nearly as long as some of her friends did—mostly she just wanted to get out of the way. Some part of her mind raged at the destruction of her territory—priceless tapestries burned, and a few thrones broken in various ways.

All the time we’ve been together, and I’ve never seen the girls fight like that. There was an obvious cause for all of it—their instincts. Instincts powerful enough that good friends could resort to… was it even fair to call it physical violence?

The destruction left behind in its aftermath hardly seemed like they’d been biting or scratching or whatever else foxes did when they were upset. Huge shards of ice had collected on one wall, piercing through the crystal half an inch or so. Leaf-litter piled up on the ground not much further, and that faint pink mist was only now starting to clear.

What kind of creatures are we? Earlier today, Twilight had barely been able to keep the instinct at bay enough to put up with Starlight’s experiments. But now—if foxes like them were as dangerous as the kirins, but with much less self-control, she needed to add some urgency to their return-transformations.

Twilight rose from her shelter behind a broken table, sensing the movement of every creature within the room. There was something cold not far away, with Rarity’s disdain and shock. Something pink and apparently unhurt was already cheerful again, and seemed to be heading back to the kitchen. Then there was something else, a void in the room where her new powers didn’t work. That would be Luna—impervious to her emotional senses, for reasons she didn’t understand.

None of them feel mad at me. I can probably get out without more attacks. That was proper, anyway. The struggle was over. Applejack had apparently been driven off, or at least Twilight couldn’t sense her clearly. She wasn’t the only one who was gone. Where were those little foxes?

She looked around the room, wincing at the size of the rubble. Little creatures their size probably wouldn’t have survived for long if they were the targets of violence like this. But she could see no sign of unfortunate canines crushed anywhere. Hopefully they’d done the smart thing and run for their lives.

Twilight rose to her paws, almost daring the others to stop her. This was her territory, after all. She should probably be punishing them for making such a mess of things. 

Focus, Twilight. Get to Starlight. Nothing else matters.

She took a few steps forward, as though she didn’t have a care in the world. She felt a few skeptical eyes on her, and heard a few groans of pain. Then she darted off, dodging around the corner and towards the stairs. Obviously Starlight would be in her lab—nothing else really made sense. With such an important  princess of Equestria transformed, the entire world would grind to a halt. 

She was surprised to see guards waiting at the steps down, though they weren’t in terribly good shape. A few of these had been in the room with them when the fighting began, judging by their uniforms.

They were much too big for them to wear anymore, it seemed. Cloth and metal piled uselessly on the floor, with stunned-looking creatures either resting beside it or just now crawling out from within.

They were foxes, mostly. Her pony self probably would’ve had trouble telling them apart—but now Twilight had no trouble at all, and she could size them up by age and health and sex without even seeing them. A few were interesting, but not long enough for her to look twice. She slowed anyway, lifting her tail and turning her nose in disdain. They needed to know just how uninterested she was.

Wait a minute. She stopped beside one—a poor stallion whose fluff overflowed from his breastplate, and seemed to have trapped him inside. Orange and yellow, like Applejack, with heat to match. “Officer, how did you get like that?”

“You can talk?” He rolled to one side, the most he could manage from inside. “How the… right. I guess you always could.”

“Yep,” she said. “You just couldn’t understand. So answer, please. How did you get like that? Did Pinkie do it?”

“What? Err… I have no idea, princess. Once you all started fighting… I ran. Couldn’t get away fast enough, as you can see. None of us did.”

Twilight nodded curtly. “This is concerning news. I’m going to, uh… check on Starlight.” She slid past them. Probably these guards would’ve stopped her before—but there was no chance of that now. They didn’t even pretend to move, letting her reach the steps and hurry down a level into the more secure laboratory area.

She knew something was wrong before she’d gone halfway down. Princess Celestia’s glow, which should’ve lit the crystal even from most of the way up—wasn’t there.

She sped up, as much as she could without resorting to an undignified sprint. She hopped from step to step, careful never to let her tail drag on the floor. 

Soon enough she reached the lab, and she saw what she’d been afraid of.

There were no ponies left in the lab, yet Twilight had no doubt that she’d found both of the creatures she’d been looking for. 

She recognized both of the fox types by now—one was like her, a cat with a slightly pinker coat and a stature almost a full head taller than she was. The cat reclined on one of the chairs, as though whatever she’d been doing before was suddenly beneath her dignity.

The other creature looked more like Pinkie, a more elegant fox with little bows and blue ribbons. She’d surrounded herself with books, probably the same ones she’d been studying earlier, though now they were spread on the floor.

She looked up as Twilight approached, and finally smiled weakly. “Oh, thank Celestia. Please tell me you can understand me, Twilight.”

She nodded, stalking right up to the books before turning to look Starlight over. “I can’t help but notice you’re… not looking yourself.”

Starlight slumped onto her haunches, one of her ribbons closing the nearest book with a definitive click. “You could say that. I wouldn’t call it the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. I thought for certain that an animal mind wouldn’t have the complexity to support my personality and memories. But that’s not the problem at all.”

“It’s the instincts,” Twilight finished for her. “Yes, they’re powerful. Enough for ponies to do crazy things, apparently. My throne room was just about destroyed. Some of the guards who were nearby, uh…” She patted her own head with a paw. “Well, they’ve lost some stature as well. I don’t know how far the effects spread.” 

“I don’t think that’s what caused it.” Starlight muttered, pawing angrily at the ground. “It was us. The princess and I… we were getting desperate.” One of the ribbons moved on its own, curling and pointing backward at one of Twilight’s most complex experiments.

Or what was left of it.

Twilight felt a brief surge of anger, fury that rose in her chest as fast as anything Applejack had done. Her eyes blazed, and for a moment she almost did something stupid. Then she took a few deep breaths, pawing up to the ruin.

This was going to be her greatest work, one day. Her own mirror portal, without any of the restrictions that bound Star Swirl’s own creation. No stupid rules about the moon, and no restrictions to just one realm either.

Now it was broken thaumium and shattered crystal, occasionally sparking around its melted edges. Flames had licked the side of the crystal walls around it, leaving a thin layer of ash behind.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Her tail whipped around behind her, fur raised high on her neck and back. Without meaning to, she’d exposed her sharp teeth as well, though of course she had no intention of using them. Physical violence was beneath her.

“There was no magic on anypony, no spells,” Starlight said, hurrying past her to the broken portal. She lifted a few of the broken gears in those weird ribbon things, trying to shove them back into place. Ineffectually. “But I was able to trace… something. I think maybe this thing probably opened on its own, only a few atoms across. Portals are unstable like that.”

Twilight followed her over. She had no way of sensing the magic that was probably raging from around this machine. She could feel the parts of it that were still moving, but that just wasn’t enough information to do anything useful with. “I checked it every few days, Starlight. But… sure, let’s say that could’ve happened. Why did you blow it up?”

“I didn’t! Err… okay, technically we did. But that wasn’t the point!” She pointed at a pile of shattered crystal nearby. “I prepared a thaumic pocket-compression, like the one I used to store my emotions. I figured I could grab a little of whatever had changed you all, then study it in its raw form.”

Not the worst plan in the world. “Except that… the thing that changed us was powerful enough to change an Alicorn. Three of them now, I guess. It looks like your bottle wasn’t strong enough.”

“Not even close.” Starlight brushed up the pieces of broken crystal into a pile, but it all slid away as soon as she lowered the ribbons. “But on the bright side… Celestia and I confirmed your portal was connected to wherever made us change like this! The bottle only held for a few seconds, but… when it broke, this all happened.”

She gestured at herself, then the princess. “I don’t know how far it went. Whatever it was, it moved so fast even Celestia couldn’t shield it.”

The princess finally stirred, opening one eye. “Far,” she said. “It was… highly concentrated. It might have crossed all Equestria. I don’t have the magic to check anymore.” Celestia sure had the poise and confidence thing figured out. She didn’t even get up from her comfortable spot on Twilight’s study chair, even when talking about powerful unknown magic.

“I don’t mean to be the one with bad news…” Twilight began. “But if you’re a fox, and I’m a cat, and Celestia’s a cat… we’re three fourths of the ponies likely to be able to figure out how to reverse the spell. If the magic reached Star Swirl…” She trailed off, expression turning bleak. “Equestria is doomed.”

“Probably,” Celestia said, closing her eyes and rolling sideways into a more comfortable spot. “I’m going to sleep on it. See if I get any other ideas.”

Starlight stared up at her for a few more moments, eyes wide with horror. But she wasn’t about to question the princess. Twilight couldn’t blame her for that.

“Okay, so…” Twilight made her way through the broken ruins of her portal. “Suppose… you’re right. It’s not the worst theory. The portal opened just wide enough to let in some kind of energy. We’ll call it… concentrated Eevee.”

Starlight raised an eyebrow. Somehow her skepticism and indignance was visible even on an animal face. “Where’d that come from?”

“The little ones say it. And it feels like the little ones are going to grow up into us. They’re the white light, so it makes sense to name the energy after them. Don’t nitpick, Starlight, I’m thinking.”

“Okay, okay! Sorry.” She held up her ribbons in front of her. “I was just asking.”

Twilight ignored her. “I think there’s… a chance, that we might’ve just helped build pressure between Equestria and whatever was on the other side. Think of it like… emptying all the air out of something. The atmosphere around it crushes it, and new air wants to rush in. Maybe if… if we can get the portal open again, we can suck all the Eevee back out. Wherever it came from.”

“Except… I broke your portal,” she said. “Unless we… recreate the time-travel spell? If we jump back a week, then break the portal before this happens…”

Twilight shut her mouth with a paw. “Both the creatures who can cast that spell don’t have magic anymore, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Starlight sighed, flopping onto her side. “What do we do then, Twilight? We can’t just… give up. Can we?”

“No!” Twilight levitated one of the pieces of her broken portal into the air. “We just have to fix… the most advanced piece of thaumic engineering that was ever constructed. And somehow get it to open with whatever magic we can find stored in the crystals around Equestria. How hard can it be?”

“Oh.” Starlight groaned, covering her face with her ribbons. “Mildly impossible.”
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rainbow crouched low outside the castle, guarding the little foxes hiding under her. She wasn’t sure how long she’d stay like that, maybe days? The safest and most obvious choice was just to take them back to the river, where they could hide under the surface until the danger passed. But some part of her didn’t think these little ones would be terribly good swimmers.

“You think anypony will get hurt?” Apple Bloom squeaked, poking her head out from the side of one of Twilight’s planter boxes. So far none of the guardsponies had dared try to approach, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sure if they’d be a threat to the ones she was guarding. “They’re probably just showing off with their magic, right? I’ve never known my big sis to go around attackin’ folks.”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow answered truthfully. Some part of her wanted to lie, and tell them everything would be okay, but she just didn’t know. “It’s probably just… occasionally you’ve got to let off steam, you know? We’re all stressed, and confused, and… that’s probably what it was. I didn’t see anypony get hit. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Good.” Apple Bloom relaxed a little, tucking into a corner against the wall and burying her face in her tail.

Scootaloo poked out beside her a moment later, shaking her hindlegs a second before hopping onto the low wall. There she was almost as tall as Rainbow, or at least tall enough to make eye contact. “You think we’ll be changed back soon? I’m getting sick of being so small.”

“Probably,” Rainbow said. “When things settle down inside, I’ll go check on everypony. Twilight said Starlight was here, working with the princess or whatever. That’s why you keep smart unicorns around, obviously. For them to solve the problems they make with their magic.”

“Right.” Scootaloo hopped back down, joining her friends in the dirt. She didn’t seem to care that it was getting on her. Rainbow was just glad for the shade, and the setting sun. She didn’t feel the desperate need to find something wet to splash in anymore.

She felt something then, making her suddenly bolt alert and glance back towards the castle. Was this what it felt like for a unicorn to sense magic? Power blasted past her, a flash of light not unlike the time they’d hit Tirek with the power of tacky colors. She crouched low again, covering the kits protectively with her own body.

It wasn’t necessary. The power passed harmlessly over them, without so much as a scratch.

The winged guards milling about around Celestia’s carriage were not so lucky, however. They froze, before dropping to the ground. They moaned, clutching at their guts, or just collapsed completely. One tried lifting off, and fell limply to the ground a few feet further. 

She covered the kits anyway, not wanting them to see this. But she couldn’t look away herself. It was like watching a bad flyer take a difficult maneuver. She knew it was going to be bad, but she had to see anyway.

They changed. Ponies shrunk down one by one, their fur getting bushier and changing colors in subtle ways. One turned yellow, with jagged spikes of fluff. Another seemed to lose their fur completely, covering over in scales like hers, but pinker. They gasped and screamed, sinking away into their armor.

“Woah.”

She hadn’t noticed, but little Sweetie Belle was standing on her hindlegs, peeking over the edge of the wall at the soldiers. Her eyes were wide, horrified. “I don’t think that fixed it.”

“Me neither,” Rainbow said, pushing her with a paw so she fell back to the dirt. How far had that energy gone anyway? How much damage could one spell do?

“Can you three hide here? If you wait a few minutes, those guards should be able to understand you again. If anything happens, ask for their help.”

“Where are you going?” Scootaloo snapped. “I wanna go too!”

“Not this time.” She spun, glowering down at the kit. “I’m going back into the castle to see what’s happening. I don’t want you getting blasted with that weird magic, okay? Just stay out here, and don’t come in unless… unless it gets dark.”

They were so small, she didn’t like their odds against even the relatively inconsequential predators of Ponyville. Would an owl hunt foxes their size? What about coyotes, or stray cats? “I’ll come straight out as soon as I know what’s going on.”

She watched them a moment longer, just to be sure they wouldn’t try to follow anyway. Scootaloo looked like she was considering it, but after a few steps onto open ground she thought better of it and darted back towards the planter-box.

Good, kid. Don’t stick your neck out this time.

Rainbow stretched, then darted forward up the steps. She wished she had her wings, to make the trip in only a few seconds. Running everywhere was incredibly annoying.

Just inside, she passed the same group of guards who had been guarding the front door last time. They weren’t ponies anymore either, though from the sound of it they didn’t seem like they’d be recovering anytime soon. One waved a feeble paw at her, but she didn’t catch what he said. She didn’t much care.

The throne room looked as bad as she’d guessed it would, with broken furniture and little fires burning in the corners. To her surprise, some of the others were still here, sitting in their solitary corners as though they hadn’t had a brawl not long ago.

A quick glance told her that Twilight and Pinkie were both gone, and so she didn’t stick around long. Where else would you be?

Where the action is, obviously. Rainbow turned down a hall, then towards a part of the castle she never visited: Twilight’s lab.

There were more guards here, no better off than the first group. “You,” one of them said, another spiky yellow one. “You’re gonna fix this, right? You six always fix these things.”

“Not me,” Rainbow said. “But somebody buckin’ better.”

The stairs waited for her. Some part of her had known what she’d find at the bottom, albeit with dread rather than anticipation. That same explosion of power that she’d felt had probably started down here. Sure enough, there wasn’t a single pony left standing. Even Princess Celestia, despite her power, wasn’t immune.

Apparently Twilight had weathered the fight unscathed, because she was already here, removing bits and pieces from a broken machine. Rainbow watched curiously for a moment as she spread the crushed pile of metal scrap out around her, sorting the objects around it according to rules she seemed to understand.

Finally she made her way over, slow enough that she didn’t think she’d provoke anything. This wasn’t her territory, she was far from the water now. But Twilight seemed friendly enough to understand she had her reasons.

“Twi,” she said. “You’re, uh… you know what happened down here?”

She turned, barely seeming to look at Rainbow before turning her focus back to the machine. “Yes, sorta. Maybe not? Starlight has a hypothesis, and it’s the best we have. We think Equestria and some other realm must’ve connected. Starlight and the princess pulled more Eevee through, and it… exploded.”

The name was strange to Rainbow, but she didn’t question it. Hearing things she didn’t understand was basically her every day. “You have a plan to fix this?”

Twilight explained quickly, or she tried to. Rainbow couldn’t make much sense of it, except for one truth above all others. It would mean sending ponies out all over Equestria to gather parts to fix her machine—an Equestria that might be somewhat or maybe completely overwhelmed with foxes. 

“What about Discord,” she asked, when Twilight had finished. “Couldn’t he just… put everything back?”

Twilight shrugged. “I haven’t seen him anywhere. Half the bits in the treasury says that he knows exactly what’s going on, and he’s not doing a bucking thing to help.” Her nostrils flared, tail whipping about behind her in a way Rainbow’s never could’ve. It made her look so… powerful, so confident. But not as hot as Applejack even so. “Then when we finally fix this he’ll show up a few minutes later and make excuses about how he was on vacation the whole time.”

“Fluttershy didn’t seem too mad about it,” Rainbow said. “Maybe he’s delaying for her.”

Twilight shook her head, turning back to her work. “It doesn’t matter why he’s not helping. Maybe he’s not around, maybe his magic can’t change us back, maybe he’s just enjoying the show and doesn’t want it to end. Whatever his reasons, we can’t count on him.”

“Right.” She might not be able to make sense of what Twilight was doing, but she could smell her confidence and determination. Starlight sat in the corner not far away, looking like a dog who had wet the carpet by mistake. If she’d been the one to transform all of Equestria, Rainbow could understand her shame. That was… how many times had she ended the world? 

“What do you need from us? It looked like the fighting was over upstairs. I bet if I’m careful I can get the girls back together.”

To her surprise, it wasn’t Twilight that answered, but the much bigger version of her. The cat stretched, hopping lazily down from a chair and padding over to her. She sniffed at Rainbow, and Rainbow dutifully lowered her head. Their relative positions negotiated, they could continue. 

“After any disaster that brings infrastructure down, time is our ultimate enemy,” Princess Celestia began. “Our water supply will remain secure for at least a month, but the same can’t be said for food. Given how many, er… threats Equestria has encountered over the years, I’ve ensured by royal decree that every city and town has two weeks’ worth of food at hoof in case of emergencies.

“Normally that’s plenty of time for the rest of the country to respond. We send relief, rebuild what is broken, send earth ponies to the farms to accelerate an emergency harvest. None of those things are possible right now. Without earth ponies, agriculture fails. Without pegasus ponies and the weather factories, Equestrian climate will eventually collapse, into inhospitable deserts and chaotic storms.”

Rainbow ordinarily wouldn’t have interrupted the princess. But given her own experience, she couldn’t keep quiet. “Maybe Cloudsdale was too far away. I know from experience that foxes can’t walk on clouds. If the whole city lost their wings…”

Celestia winced, expression grave. “Their schedule would’ve put them on the extreme end of the west coast… yes, I think I’ll share your assumption. Until we learn otherwise.”

Twilight pawed at the ground, her fur ruffled, and scent disturbed. “Princess, I don’t know… I don’t know if two weeks is enough time. And we don’t know if this plan will even work!” She looked to be on the same edge of desperate hope as Rainbow herself. If anypony could somehow find a way to magic them out of this, it would be the princess. 

Then again, Princess Celestia hadn’t really solved any of Equestria’s problems since her own sister turned homicidal. Waiting for her to intervene probably wasn’t bound for success.

The cat only shook her head. “I have considered what I know. But when it comes to theoretical magic, you were always more informed than I. I’m afraid your plan may be the best we have.”

“Then get the girls together, Rainbow. Or… actually, not yet. I’ll put a list together of what we need, and we can go out and get it all. Maybe… this whole disaster will make Applejack finally relax. Since her sister would’ve been hit by it anyway and all.”

She sighed, levitating a scroll and pen onto the floor at her paws. “If you can get Fluttershy to find Discord for us, now’s the time.”
> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since meeting Twilight for the first time several years ago, Rainbow had seen Equestria go through some pretty awful things. Some part of her wondered if it was her fault that the creatures around her were suffering so much, if maybe all the monsters and demons of the world would just leave everypony alone if they'd stayed at home in Ponyville and not made too much noise. Not that Rainbow was the sort of pony to accept that outcome, even if it would have kept Equestria safe. It was just one of those things on the list to keep her up at night.

She'd seen Equestria with all its magic drained (twice!), she'd seen Ponyville enslaved by an insane magician. She'd seen Canterlot invaded and probably lots of other little disasters that she could barely remember. Like that time the country had suffered through eternal night for a single evening.

But no destruction was so complete as when the Eevee got loose.

Twilight's desperate plan to drain their world of alien influence required rare materials from all over the world, and of course she was one of the ponies leading the charge to bring them back. It didn't matter if she couldn't fly anymore—as far as she knew, nopony could. That meant she had ample opportunity to see a great deal of Equestria. Her membership in the Wonderbolts meant she knew what each little town and village ought to look like. Unfortunately for everywhere she visited: it seemed that none had been spared the Eevee.

Her first mission was simple enough: make it to Appleloosa, and bring back a tub of one of the strange minerals they mined there, something called "Yellowcake." Difficult enough on its face, since the trip would lead her straight into some of the hottest, driest parts of Equestria. If only Applejack would've come along, instead of worrying so much about the farm. Couldn't she tell that farming apples would be the least of everypony's worries when they were all foxes now? Could foxes even eat apples?

Rainbow never would've stood a chance to walk all the way there, probably not even while she'd been a pony. But they still had the trains, it would just be quite a bit harder to get them moving. When they finally arrived...

At first it looked like the entire town was abandoned. Not a single pony was waiting for them at the station. When Rainbow finally emerged, she found only peering eyes from within buildings. The “Eevees” hadn't all died or anything, Rainbow knew a town in trouble when she saw it. She stayed in the town for as little time as possible, hopping back into the train and promising the poor souls left behind that they "planned on fixing things within two weeks." A feeble promise, but it was all she could offer.

She could only imagine how awful things would be in a big city like Manehattan. Thousands of ponies, all stacked up in skyscrapers, relying on huge machines to keep the water and food flowing. It was an apocalypse, albeit the cutest apocalypse they'd ever seen.

Rainbow made a few more trips for supplies, sometimes joined by one of her friends. Fluttershy in particular seemed fascinated by the potential implications of a world "run entirely by animals." Mostly the implications were that the animals ran, scavenging for what food they could, and tried very hard not to burn their towns down. There were no fires as Rainbow made her brief tour around the country, but there was no telling how long that would last. Not using their new powers was like... staying trapped on the ground. Rainbow couldn’t deal with it, and she suspected that most of the others couldn't either. It was only a matter of time before they were forced to release that magical energy, often catastrophically.

By the time Rainbow was making her way back from Canterlot, she had been a fox for nearly two weeks. The train barely even made it back into the station, limping along with screeching breaks and wheels that were messed up in some way or another. Rainbow emerged from within like a creature who'd just survived a war, glancing over the back of the train and surveying the damage. Canterlot had been the worst place they'd been so far—the city wasn't the largest in Equestria, but even so it was in utter chaos. The side of the train had been melted, either by the lightning of one of the yellow foxes, or maybe the flames of one of the orange ones.

Engineer Coupling Rod clambered out of the engine a moment later, removing a tiny pair of goggles. Perhaps fittingly, he was one of those fluffy, fiery foxes like Applejack. But he hadn't tried to attack her during any of their trips. "Miss Dash, I think that's about done it for old 38 here. We just haven't had the tools, and there are some replacement parts she needs. Hate to be a disappointment, but she's stuck. Not for every princess in Equestria could I get her moving again."

Rainbow nodded. She didn't get much closer to him—she'd learned by now that fire foxes didn't respond well to water ones. The reverse wasn't so bad, though she certainly didn't enjoy being dried out. "You did good, Coupling Rod. I'll tell Twilight that we don't have your train anymore. But I remember her saying something about being nearly done. Those crystals we brought in from the palace might be the last we need." She groaned, shaking herself out. Filling a large tub on the train had made travel not the worst, but it was no river. Just keep going a little longer. Bring in this last load, and you can go relax. One more shipment, and it was in the paws of the princess, where it should be.

Rainbow couldn't bring up so much stuff on her own. It had taken half a dozen foxes to pull the cart through Canterlot, though half of those had just been volunteers protecting them from attack. Ponyville was in much better shape. "Hey!" Rainbow hopped up on a pile of boxes near the train station, puffing out her chest. "I've got the last cart of stuff the princess needs for the cure! Who wants to help me?"

Here in Ponyville, the Eevees hadn't yet resorted to hiding in dark corners and fighting. Well, they did fight, but not very often. Rainbow hadn't heard of anypony getting seriously hurt, anyway.

Foxes emerged from all over the square, bounding over to line up in front of her. She recognized many of them from her years living in Ponyville. There were the flower sisters, all as leafy as Fluttershy. There was Big Mac, dark with little apples in yellow outline instead of orange like Applejack. The Mayor had her ribbons and bows, somehow moving as though they were alive. Rainbow never let her volunteer, just to be safe.

It took a good while to get the cart ready to pull, packed so full of delicate crystals as it was. These weren't tubs of powder that could be easily scooped back in—if they broke these, Rainbow wasn't sure where else they'd be finding magic crystals. Twilight might know, but... how many could there be? Without unicorns to recharge them, it was only a matter of time before all of Equestria ran out.

They'd attached a thick rope to the front of the cart, down near the axles instead of up top. Lots of little ropes trailed away from the big one, where foxes could grab on to help pull. Rainbow picked volunteers who had helped with this before, then walked backward at the front of the group. "Okay everypony... pull!"

As they crossed through town, foxes emerged from their homes to watch. Life in Ponyville hadn't been entirely stopped in its tracks. It was hard to say what was different about her hometown that none of the other places in Equestria had going for them. Maybe having the princess in town to tell them all not to worry? Or maybe it was just that Ponyville had survived so many disasters that another one wasn't much of a change. There were no playfights going on in the streets, no houses burned down, though there were some signs. Here a part of the ground had been melted into fulgurite by a lightning-fox, while there were holes in the wall like the ones that Rainbow herself had made.

All and all, life in Ponyville went on. The market was full, creatures still came to trade, and did their best to work. As they passed through town, Rainbow waved weakly to Muffins as she went through her delivery routine—now without her wings. But the pegasus had never been a very good flyer to begin with, so realistically it wasn't even much of a change. She had scales and a huge tail like Rainbow’s own, though at least in her case it didn’t seem like she’d been made any worse a flier for her transformation.

Muffins stopped to wave back, grinning stupidly at her. Amazing how little she'd changed despite the whole world unraveling around her. Even as Rainbow watched, she dropped a whole bundle of letters into the wind, and they drifted away. Rainbow winced, but made no move to help. They had something far more important here than a few letters. Who's even still writing those right now? The whole world is foxes, and there's no way the post goes further than Ponyville. Just meet up and talk if you want to see somepony so badly.

Finally they reached the castle. It still had guards, though they wore none of their old armor. Rainbow had thought the whole idea of having the royal guards continue their patrols was incredibly silly, until she saw what some of Equestria's other cities looked like. She only nodded to them now, not giggling even a little at their attempts to look imposing while wearing no armor and being foxes.

Twilight always seemed able to tell when Rainbow was returning, because she was out the door before they'd even finished getting the cart inside. "Oh good, you're here! Thaumic energy storage... perfect!"

Like everypony else, Twilight had and hadn't changed with her time as a fox. Her body no longer smelled like her lavender shampoo, but rather like some natural mix of the cat-grooming she did. She went through long stretches of manic activity, then just as much napping in the sun. Rainbow's arrival with her ingredients seemed to be a trigger for “manic activity.” Thank Celestia Applejack isn't more like you. Spending any time with her would be a nightmare. “Everything we could find in Canterlot," Rainbow explained. "I don't know if it's as much as you wanted. It wasn't... We didn't exactly have the time to sit around and count."

Twilight frowned, lifting one of the identical boxes down from the cart as easily as she'd done as a unicorn. The box was paper-thin, and literally packed with sawdust. She opened the lid, pulling out the single crystal inside. It glowed a bright purple, pulsing slightly like a heartbeat. "It will have to be enough," Twilight declared. "We don't have the time to keep searching. Uninsulated thaumic storage like this has a half-life, and we're rapidly approaching it. If we spend two more weeks looking for crystals, we'll lose more energy than we gain, even if we bring in more carts just like this." She replaced the crystal, then turned to the not-ponies lined up at the rope. "You've all done a great job!" she called confidently. "Thanks so much, I can take it from here!"

They broke apart, spitting it out. Bon Bon, now another cream-colored fox with leafy mane, was brave enough not to back away immediately. "Will you be curing us soon, Princess?"

Twilight hesitated a moment, though at least she didn't look confrontational. Twilight was one of the few creatures Rainbow hadn't seen get into physical conflicts over dominance. Rainbow herself was not on that list. "Yes. We'll be doing the spell at midnight tonight, when the world-boundaries are thinnest. Whether we'll all be stuck like this forever... you'll know tomorrow morning. It all looks good now, though! Tell your friends! Cure is just around the corner!"
> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle stood on the threshold of an abyss. Before her was the portal device, a recreation of the same relic that had nearly undone Equestria in a single spell. There was no telling what revenge Equestria might want from her, in payment for what she had stolen. Then she realized her paw was itching, and she bent down to lick it clean. There was a process to these things, and she wasn't going to rush.

Of course the clock overhead didn't tick any slower, and the eyes of her friends on her were a reminder that she should probably be doing something more important.

"Thirty seconds," Starlight muttered. "Is everything ready?"

Twilight rose, tail high behind her and her chest puffed out. "Yes, it's all ready. All we have to do is connect the thaumic reserve to the portal." She held out one paw, inches from the oversized button. This was the one part of the device she'd made specifically for foxes, in case somepony else had to do this part. Except that we're completely guessing about all of this, and it might not do anything. Equestria might already be destroyed and we just don't know it yet.

"Give me a countdown," Twilight said, her feline confidence finally faltering. She was just as sure about what she'd built, but... now her creation had to save the whole country. "I personally configured that clock, it should be accurate to the millisecond. Get as close as you can."

"I got this," Rainbow declared, bounding wetly over to the pile of boxes. "The Wonderbolts are all about good timing." And just like that, she started counting. "Five... four... three... two... one!"

Twilight reached out, shoving the activation with all the strength in her delicate paw. It didn't take any at all really—the instant she'd bridged the contacts, power began to flow. The portal lit up brilliant purple, a mix of a thousand different unicorn's natural magic. This was the ancient solar council moving the sun all over again, and no less critical for their survival.

Twilight was expecting it, but then there was a bright flash in front of her, and she retreated with a fearful yowl. She landed on the floor a few paces back, balanced lightly on her paws. But by then there was nothing she could do to help one way or the other. It all came down to whether or not they'd built the portal correctly.

Even without her unicorn senses, Twilight could recognize when parts of her portal became charged from the gentle glow that suffused the runes she'd carved there. Gyroscopes began to turn, and finally sparks arched through the portal surface. This was the single moment of truth, where all of the magical energy left in Equestria might vanish in a flash. And once it was gone, it would be gone forever.

Then the portal opened wide, and for an instant she could see across to the other side. It wasn't meant to be large enough for a fox to use, let alone a pony. The plan was never to travel through, after all. Even so, Twilight could feel a sudden pressure, dragging her up towards the opening in the air. Or... no, her paws were still firmly on the ground. It was pulling something out of her—the Eevee?

"I don't feel so good." Pinkie dropped to the ground, her ribbons curling around her neck. "Wake me when this is over."

She wasn't the only one, either. Twilight watched them fall one at a time, her friends dropping where they stood. She wobbled on her paws, slumping forward. Suddenly she felt so... weak. I hope this means it's working...

Even her Alicorn strength wasn't enough to keep her standing after that. Twilight collapsed with the others.





Twilight woke with the sun. This wasn't new for her—ever since she'd first woken up as a cat, she'd felt drawn to spend as much time outside during sunrise as possible. It was where she belonged.

She wandered up her basement steps, past creatures still overwhelmed by the magic that had just swept across Equestria anew. She resisted her curiosity, and instead shoved through the doorways and out into Ponyville. Thousands of creatures circled around her palace here, each one probably waiting eagerly for news from within. These were some of the few who understood the truly desperate state they were in, who'd come to cheer her on. All unconscious now, just as Twilight's friends. But something drew her on, demanded she be here to greet the sun despite the absurdity of it all. Twilight walked anyway.

The crystal of her castle glowed brilliantly as the first light of dawn struck it, illuminating the map and a few other things she knew to look for. But Twilight wasn't out here to look at her castle, or even Ponyville at large.

Behind her towering palace was the same bright grassland that her treehouse had replaced. Someone was already waiting for her. Not the princess, though that was what she'd expected.

"Half of Equestria was looking for you," Twilight said, settling down beside the figure. "Where have you been all this time?"

Discord turned to regard her, a grin spreading across his face. "Did you ever ask yourself why the sun kept rising, with its princess grooming herself on a sofa? Imagine how much worse off Equestria would've been without any creature regulating the climate. Someone had to keep their hands on the wheel, so to speak."

Like that took all day. Twilight glowered up at him, but she didn't dare to question him. It wasn't like his contribution wasn't valuable. He wasn't wrong about how dire Equestria's situation would've been. "Could you have fixed us? You wouldn't have needed to take care of the sun if Celestia was still a pony."

Discord's grin widened. "Perhaps. I didn't try. But clearly you didn't need my help. You..." He hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Well, it looks like you almost got it. I'd never expect you of all ponies to be satisfied with a ninety percent. But I guess that's better than a fail, eh?"

Twilight froze, glancing back in horror at herself. What was Discord talking about? Then again, she'd been far too fearful of what had actually happened to her to take a good look. Now she did, remaining still long enough to take it all in.

She was a pony again, or at least she'd thought she was. Her purple body was returned, towering over the view of the world she might've seen as a cat. The richness of what her paws would've told her was replaced with a much-simplified view the frog of each hoof could let her feel. It had never seemed to be missing anything, but now... now she felt blinded by it.

At first she thought Discord might be completely lying to her—trying to panic her after nearly being the reason for Equestria's entire destruction. But then she saw her tail. It didn't belong on a pony, that was for sure. It was almost as long as she was, covered with its own fuzz of fur rather than a little nub off her rear. The fork at the end was entirely familiar to her, enough that she hadn't even noticed it there at first. The tail seemed to respond to her attention, and it started to swish back and forth, before it lifted behind her in a feline show of discomfort. So I guess I can't hide that anymore.

"I'll admit, it does seem a modest price to pay to get your civilization back," Discord went on, resting one claw on her shoulder and looking down with her. "But really, wasn't Equestria well enough off the way it was? If you hadn't found a way to reverse it, I was going to make a killing adopting you all out across the multiverse. Don't worry, I would've found a loving home for every creature. I'm selfless like that."

Twilight met his eyes again, then shuddered and moved away. Discord was no longer nakedly hostile to Equestria, it was true. But his shift in loyalty hadn't fundamentally changed his nature. He was still an eldritch being of chaos, with morality that nopony could comprehend. He probably meant what he said, and genuinely thought he'd be doing them all a favor in the bargain.

Twilight spun around to face him, then froze. Even with her back turned, she could feel the air rustling through the weeds and wildflowers. Not far from one of her hooves, a field mouse emerged from its den to gather seeds. A bird passed overhead, and right as she expected it soared in front of her, before landing in a nearby tree.

Discord was quiet for a moment, though his expression turned smugger by the second. "Something wrong, Princess?"

Yes, very. "You don't have to work the sun anymore," Twilight said. "The princesses are back, just like everypony else. Please fix me the rest of the way. I can't go around helping to clean up Equestria looking like this."

Discord raised a claw to his chest in a mock gasp. "You can't honestly be suggesting I give you preferential treatment." He shook his head. "Shame on you, Twilight. You think just because your invention spread more chaos across Equestria than I could manage even while I ruled it... you really think I'm going to use magic on you I wouldn't use for everypony else? That just wouldn't be fair, would it?"

He leaned down—or rather, was suddenly shorter, whispering into an ear. "I think you should take a good look at your subjects, Princess. Don't you think they should have a creature like them to rule over them?" He straightened, folding his arms together. "And besides, getting the cat out of you would be a nightmare. I'd have to cast the spell at least nine times. Thanks to you, the whole world is full of delicious chaos. I couldn't stay here and let it pass me by."

Twilight bounded a few steps forward, stopping on the edge of the hill where she could look down on Ponyville. Her own palace was close, so she didn't have far to go to see what had become of Equestria's population.

Discord was right. Even at a distance, she could see a spectrum of strange colors—Ponyville had never had so many ponies with black and orange and bright yellow fur. Her own coat matched her tail, but the difference for her was subtle enough that she hadn't noticed it. Not so for Ponyville's creatures. The strongest and most magically gifted of them would wake first, but soon enough even the little colts and fillies would shake off the magical disorientation.

Twilight spread her wings, watching nervously as creatures that weren't quite ponies rose one at a time. From the look of things, the "Eevee" hadn't been removed in quite the same way twice. Many had changed colors, but some hadn't. Muffins was back to as gray as ever, though she now had an oversized fish-tail that certainly wasn't going to help her already feeble flight skills. She distinctly recognized Apple Bloom rising from beside her older brother, with an oversized tuft of fur around her neck where no pony ought to have one. A few unlucky creatures looked like they still had a few paws as well, though Twilight herself had been spared from anything quite so severe.

"So either we risk the portal all over again, or we make do with an Equestria that's... what, half magical creature?" Twilight asked.

"Equestria was always full of magical creatures," Discord responded. “Be careful which doors you open, Princess Twilight. Civilizations that don't well understand the multiverse would do well to stay in their plane. Leave that work to the professionals. It's a miracle nothing worse happened when Star Swirl decided he was going to breach the tapestry and see what waits beyond. You're lucky Equestria still even resembles the one you know."

"It might." Twilight settled back down, watching as a crowd began to assemble. The ponies below—or almost-ponies—would probably be demanding an explanation. Would they accept “this is better than nothing”? I broke the world apart. Time to put it back together.
> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight Sparkle settled uneasily into her throne, tail whipping about behind her in agitation. It wasn’t anything specific that was going wrong—but her new tail made it difficult to find a comfortable position. She rose, shuffled a bit, nudged the cushion on her throne, then gradually settled back down. Was that better? Not really, whatever.

Her friends hadn’t gotten off easier. The effects of what Equestria now called the “Great Fox” had remained on them as poignantly as on Twilight herself, making subtle adjustments to appearance and behavior that many creatures didn’t even notice. Applejack’s mane was still fluffy and hot, Rainbow’s tail was big enough to have a private seat of its own, and Pinkie had kept one of her bows. She used the ribbons even now to sip delicately at fruit punch in a tiny little teacup.

Of course, the worst thing by far was the map. The Cutie Map looked to be having a kind of nervous breakdown, with their marks appearing almost everywhere at once, shifting from one section to another and growing larger and smaller as different problems arose, then were supplanted by others.

Starlight Glimmer nudged the table with a paw, which she’d kept. “Looks like Equestria is recovering about as well as we could expect. So where do we start, Princess? Nowhere’s jumping out at me.”

Don’t you even start with me. 

“Cloudsdale,” Rainbow said, surprising even Twilight with her sudden confidence. “Everywhere else has a mix of different powers, kinda like Equestria was before. But my hometown is all the same. The weather factory probably needs to be overhauled before it’s running again. If we don’t fix it now, all Equestria will hurt once their rain doesn’t get delivered on time.”

Rarity cleared her throat, pushing aside a bright blue strand from her face. “I don’t mean to be confrontational, but I think you’re describing an advantage, dear. Those winged-creatures they ended up… that kept a sense of camaraderie. The city isn’t aching like Canterlot. Just look at all those flashes.” 

She lowered her voice, leaning in for them all to hear. “I’ve heard rumors—and they’re only rumors—that some ponies were eaten during the Fox. I know, it sounds dreadful. But the evidence is there.”

“That’s horseradish is what that is,” Applejack countered. “Ain’t nopony got eaten like it was the olden days. We’ve come further than that.”

Rarity raised a defensive hoof. “I’m just repeating what I heard. The rumors were about Canterlot, which is why I mention them. So many creatures, who have always depended on the princess for order in their lives. Then they’re gone, and… the results are rather predictable.”

Twilight winced as she heard it. She knew those rumors—and worse, she knew they were true. Correlating the dead and injured during the Great Fox was difficult, given how many were still missing, and how remote some villages could be. But the numbers were depressingly high.

“It’s not your fault, Twilight,” Princess Celestia had reassured, the very next morning. “You were as safe as you knew how. No creature could’ve anticipated anything as virulent as Eevee crossing over to our world. Don’t blame yourself.” She also hadn’t done anything to blame Starlight, even though her work on Twilight’s portal had caused the effect to spread. 

But if Starlight ached about it, Twilight could no longer make out her grief through those solid blue eyes.

She rose from her chair, straight down to the table. “It’s no one place that needs our help,” she said. “I wish the map was being… clearer about its intentions. But what I’m seeing from all this is that we need to split up. I think Rainbow and Fluttershy should go to Cloudsdale, uh… Rarity and Applejack can go to Canterlot, and Pinkie and I will visit Manehattan. That means you’ll be holding down the fort on the school like before, Starlight. And Spike, you’ll be making sure Ponyville doesn’t burn down. Any… worse than it has.”

Spike looked up from his little chair, long tail twitching. But other than the strange blue spheres, he’d mostly escaped the Great Fox’s worst side effects. Not all of the Dragonlands had done so well. Celestia help us if they realize we were the ones who caused it, instead of just the ones who saved the world.

For that reason alone, no creature could ever learn the true cause of the Great Fox. Its secrets would have to go with her friends to their graves.

“Can’t we go and check on a little village like Appleloosa or Dodge Junction?” Applejack asked. “Canterlot’s got lots ‘a help, I’m sure. But nopony cares about the little guy.”

Good thing you didn’t ask about Pinkie. It didn’t seem to matter that their sisters would’ve been changed anyway once Starlight’s attempt to cure them failed, there was still a sore spot between them about Pinkie. There was probably plenty of healing left to do there.

“They didn’t have it as bad,” Rainbow said. “I went through Appleloosa a week into the Great Fox. It was doing pretty good. Ponies were scared, and hiding a lot… but with all that space, there was plenty of room to roam around and hunt. The only time we had trouble is when foxes were stuck too close together and couldn’t get away.”

Applejack groaned noncommittally, then shrugged one shoulder. “You think the same way, Twi?”

She nodded. “We’ll visit all of Equestria eventually. But wouldn’t you say the Appleloosa ponies are tougher than city folk? Think of it like that—they don’t need as much from us.”

“I guess so.” She sat back, obviously still unhappy. But she didn’t argue anymore, so that was something. 

“What about fixing us?” Rarity asked. “I’m not ungrateful, of course, but… I think I’ve had my fill of the cold for a good long while. My poor sister has to keep the fire burning in her room all the time.”

Probably never going to happen, Twilight thought. Unless you want to risk this starting again. But before she could find a more diplomatic way to answer, Starlight did the job for her.

“The Eevee doesn’t respond to magic very well. Our few tests resulted in…” She rested one paw up on the table for her to see, stretching it to extend the claws within. “Well, I tried it on myself first. Are you volunteering?”

Rarity shook her head, eyes going wide. “That’s where those came from? Celestia above I’m so sorry I mentioned it.”

Twilight glanced pointedly around the table. “This is important to talk about, actually. You need to know, and everypony you visit needs to know, that we can’t reverse this. Maybe one day some new transformation spell will be able to treat individuals one at a time, but there won’t be another wave to change them back like a week ago.

“As of now, inter-universal travel is permanently banned. Aside from the mirror portal, we’re sealing off every artifact and reference on the subject. Without access to the home of Eevee, we won’t be able to draw the power in. But the risk of losing what little we have gained is simply too great. We barely got our bodies back even this much. I don’t think anypony wants to tempt fate with another try.”

She didn’t even have to look at her friends to know they all felt the same way. Most of them weren’t even that resentful of what few fox traits remained. Some, like Pinkie, even seemed to enjoy the change. Because she’s half insane.

They rose, preparing to go their separate ways. Twilight remained by the table to answer questions and make suggestions for each group. With Equestria’s infrastructure damaged or completely out of commission, getting anywhere would be a challenge. But the worst for her group, which was why she’d chosen the furthest place to go.

“Guess we’re going together, huh?” Pinkie asked, her ribbons settling on the table between them. “I’m excited to see Manehattan again. Do you think the foxes will be happy to see us?”

So long as they don’t find out it’s our fault they’re still a little like foxes. She touched one wing lightly on Pinkie’s shoulder, smiling exasperatedly. “We’re, uh… not foxes anymore. You can go back to saying anypony if you want.”

Pinkie shrugged. “We might look more like ponies, but the feel didn’t change much.” She plounced past Twilight with a few bounding steps, leading her out. “I know you’re feeling it right now. You can still do things that ponies shouldn’t do. You know how people feel before they feel it. You can tell when somepony is about to open your door, or if they’re going to be upset. Does that seem like the way a pony would be?”

Twilight tensed reflexively, her tail lifting high behind her. But just knowing she was responding emotionally wasn’t enough to stop her from doing it. There was just too much instinct to ignore. “It’ll wear off. Residual magic never lasts on living things.”

She passed Pinkie, gesturing up the stairs. “We’ll be taking an airship instead of the train, by the way. I know there’s one leaving from the Canterlot dock first thing in the morning with relief supplies. We’ll just hitch a ride.”

And please don’t ask why we aren’t going with Applejack.

But Pinkie didn’t, and they worked their way down the castle’s spiral staircase in relative silence. “What are we going to do when we get there?” Pinkie finally asked. “Manehattan is just full of foxes, right? And we’re just two. Maybe Rarity should be going instead.”

Twilight shrugged. “I’m… reasonably sure the map wants us there. It’ll be just like old times—visit somewhere, search for the friendship problems, and do our best to help.” And hopefully nopony died there.

“Trusting to fate, I like it.” Pinkie wrapped a ribbon around one of Twilight’s legs, about halfway up. She wasn’t sure she liked the sensation very much—the ribbons were soft, but also always uncomfortably warm, like touching a pony’s bare skin. And if they were attached to her, did that mean…

Not going to think about that. She pried herself free with a little levitation, now mercifully returned. So far as she knew, only her senses were still twisted by her time as a cat. She was an ordinary Alicorn otherwise. “I guess you could call it that.” 

They emerged from inside the castle into a Ponyville that was more or less the same as it had been before the disaster began. A total of three homes had been burned, and one pony was still missing: one of the flower sisters. If anything, the town was closer together than ever. Ponyville had always faced greater dangers than most parts of Equestria, this was just another one for the wall in Mayor Mare’s office.

Twilight didn’t say anything else until they were halfway to the train station, listening to the thoughts and feelings of a hundred ponies. After the dark visions of the map, seeing somewhere ponies were actually succeeding was a little healing she desperately needed.

“You’re different, Pinkie,” she said, as the old building was finally coming into view. Engine 38 was still shoved off to the side, resting silently on some empty track. It was already becoming a bit of a tourist destination in itself, the train that saved Equestria. It would probably end up in a museum before the year was out, along with the disassembled portal (with all the functional bits missing, so nopony could study what was left).

“I am?” She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t feel different. Other than the obvious.” She adjusted her bow, grinning wider. 

Her hair was still curly, but that expression—it made Twilight shiver. Not as strange as Starlight’s solid-color eyes, but still hard to look at. “You’re calmer than usual. Are you feeling okay? If one of my friends needs help before we go and help somepony else, you know how important that would be.”

Pinkie patted her on the head with both ribbons at once. “That’s thoughtful, Twi. But… I’m fine, really. I think the fox thing just… helped me see the world a little differently, is all. I don’t have to rush out and take the fun. Fate’s funny like that—it’s always there to make sure the fun can find me.”