Witchcraft for Birdwatchers
Shining trotted through the Lunar Wing of Canterlot Castle. He was checking on his subordinates, two of which he spotted by a large window. Normally, Lookout and Guiding were his least two troublesome soldiers, always timely with finishing the patrols for the coming week, but their current position perplexed him.
They were both dressed in forest camouflage that did nothing to hide them against the stone interior of the castle. Binoculars were glued to their faces as Lookout scribbled on a notepad. Perking his ears, Shining was just able to make out mumbled words.
Approaching quietly, he eavesdropped on the conversation.
“—Kerfuffle in the market. We’ll put Spear and Sentry into that patrol,” Guiding said.
“Right, Sir.” Lookout nodded. “What about Patrol F?”
“Not sure. He hasn’t— did you catch that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You know that pattern. Patrol O will get bombarded by food pellets. Write that down.”
Frantic scribbling followed.
Thoroughly confused, Shining looked out the window. They were observing a section of the roof, upon which a dark gray pegasus with a silver mohawk stood. The pegasus bobbed his head forward and back as he whacked his head against the shingles.
“Assign Patrol R to Route 14 with a warning for potential arson,” Guiding said.
More scribbling.
“What in Tartarus are you two doing?” Shining demanded.
Guiding dropped his binoculars and turned toward Shining. “Determining the patrols, Captain.”
“How?”
“With Ornithomancy,” Guiding replied, his tone making it seem obvious.
“... What?”
“Fortune telling through the observation of birds.”
Shining’s look of disdain was the same as his mother’s when he had brought home his first marefriend, Tongue Wrestler. She had not been a keeper. “The patrol routes are based on the behaviour of a single pegasus?! Also, isn’t this kind of demeaning?!”
“Not at all, Captain,” Lookout replied. “I’m sure an actual bird would have more grace and intelligence than Thundergeon.”
Shining watched Thundergeon chase his tail in circles on the roof. “... I’m hard pressed to disagree, however, you can’t just use random behaviour to determine our patrol routes!”
“But we’ve been doing that for more than a decade.”
“More than a—!” Shining drew himself up, face red. “Now listen here—!”
“Guiding, look!” Lookout shouted.
Guiding whipped his head toward the window, binoculars on. Annoyed, but curious, Shining looked as well.
Thundergeon was vibrating in place. His face was scrunched up, feathers puffed. He started to dry heave, then upchucked an intact, if gross, teddy bear. He leaned back, his tongue out and not a thought to be seen in his eyes.
“... What,” Shining said.
“Send a warning to Patrol T that there will be a surprise bear attack near the maternity ward at Canterlot Main,” Guiding commanded.
“What,” Shining repeated.
“Why are you confused?” Guiding asked.
“Because this is completely bonkers!”
“This is Ornithomancy,” Lookout muttered under his breath followed by a quiet war cry.
“This method has a ninety percent accurate prediction rate,” Guiding explained. “How about we do your patrol next and you can pass judgement afterwards?”
Begrudgingly, Shining said, “fffffiiiiiiiiiinnnnnne.”
He waited patiently as they all observed Thundergeon. Their subject perked his ears and twisted his head unnaturally toward the castle’s tomato garden. He stuck his tongue out and blew raspberries at it.
Afterward, he tippy-tapped his hooves on the roof while panting heavily.
Finally, a pigeon, an actual pigeon, roosted on the edge of the roof. Thundergeon stared at it with wide bug eyes before he leaped forward and started punching the Tartarus out of the bird. This continued until the pigeon managed to get out of Thundergeon’s hold and began to peck at the pegasus’s head. Thundergeon stumbled and fell off the roof, holding onto the edge for dear life. The pigeon stared down, mercilessly.
“So, what did all of that mean?” Shining asked, curious despite knowing it was all nonsense.
In a tone reserved for delivering the utmost serious news to another soldier, Guiding said, “you will have tomato soup thrown on you, get half your mane burned off by a sneezing dragon, and then beat up by a pregnant mare.”
A moment of silence.
“I’m having both of you fired,” Shining declared.
He walked off, muttering about stupid birds and ponies that were worse than birds. Lookout and Guiding returned to their observations, watching as the pigeon pecked at Thundergeon’s hooves who screamed in primal fear.
They made a note about Patrol U being betrayed by a trusted ally who may or may not be related to a lion.
Shining, fur dyed red by the tomato soup he had tried to eat at lunch with half his mane burned off by his apologetic younger brother and sporting a black eye from a billigerent pregnant mare that had mistaken him for some sleeze, sat next to Guiding and Lookout with a pair of binoculars pressed to his face.
Thundergeon cooed. Seemingly at random.
“Do we move Patrol N to Route 13 due to a blockage of carolers?” Shining asked.
“Don’t be daft, Captain,” Lookout replied. “It's a spontaneous musical number. We’ll need to readjust Patrol E.”
“Of course.” Shining nodded.
Thundergeon reared his head back and began to scream the song of his (bird) people. A frying pan went flying through the air, smacked him in the back of the head, and caused him to plummet to the ground below.
From her bedroom window, Princess Luna hung out of it like a crazed madmare with heavy bags under her eyes, pure rage on her face, and an opossum themed night cap on her head.
“I WILL MURDER YOU ALL, YOU BLOODY FEATHERED RATS!” She shrieked.
The window slammed shut behind her.
“What does that mean?” Shining asked.
“That Princess Luna is in a bad mood,” Lookout and Guiding replied in unison.
“So how will we get the rest of the patrol routes?” Shining dropped his binoculars.
“We’ll need the afternoon readings.” Lookout answered. “She makes us work for it, but Strawberry Sunsparrow is known to give accurate if sassy readings.”