>She lands and runs off into what looks like a small cave.
>Stopping to look around you notice the frosted ground.
>Seems strange that she chose to put her hive all the way out here.
>You guess it is a rather secretive location, that and it’s a fucking pain to reach on foot.
>She’s standing by the entrance to the cave, hopping about on her feet.
>It’s refreshing to see her like this, honest and open.
>”You have the constitution of flaccid celery!”
>That part would never change.
>Righting yourself you call back.
“And you have the appetite of a ursa.”
>”How would you know? I don’t require physical sustenance like you lower beings.”
>Her speech is natural, no venom or malice, just banter.
“Yeah, that’s right, you feed off of love. My love! You know how hard I work for that love?”
>”Please, both you and I know that I’m the primary breadwinner of the family.”
>Having finally caught up she hooks her leg on your collar and drags you forward.
“So do I finally get to meet the folks?
>You bump into the back of her, leaning over to see why she stopped.
>In the tunnel in front of you lies the half rotted and purple tinted corpse of a miasma soldier.
>The chitinous exoskeleton of the changelings natural form meant that the body was left mostly intact.
>It’s eyes, a more delicate part of their anatomy, was still intact, meaning that this was recent.
>Without a word Chrysalis takes off deeper into the caverns.
>Unfortunately you have to stop to light your lantern before you follow her in.
 
>It was a short sprint to the center.
>Made all the more difficult by the fact that every few feet you had to leap over a corpse.
>More often than not, it’s one of the Miasma soldiers.
>For every three Miasma corpses, there lies one clad in that turquoise green that you have become so familiar with.
>The ceiling of the central hub is covered in phosphorescent fungi; most of the fungi had been sculpted into chandelier type arrangements.
>The chamber has two floors with arching bridges that stand on fluted pillars, one of which has collapsed.
>It must’ve been quite a marvel in it’s heyday.
>”Kids!?... Hello?!... Kids…”
>In the center of it all is Chrysalis, spinning in place, calling out against the dim stone walls.
>”Fang!? Razor!?I order you to report at once.”
>The walls repeated the sentiment and the sound traveled on for what must’ve been miles.
>”You search the hatcheries!”
>Chrysalis turned to run down a unspecified hallway, as you turn to do the same a last minute thought stops you.
“Wait!”
>She doesn’t, this place obviously goes on for miles.
>Doing a quick check it seems that most of the tunnels are marked.
>Proceeding down what you think is the correct hall you realize that this is the first time in three days the two of you have separated.
>You feel naked.
>The tunnel widens as you reach the hatching chambers.
>Across the walls written in what resembles purple rubber cement is one sentence.
*RETRIBUTION FOR YOUR FAILURE*
>Everywhere else is home only to smashed eggs, their gelatinous casings hanging limply.
>The few places you can step are sticky with evaporated albumen.
>Once a few feet away from the wall a hypothesis begins to form.
 
>It would only stand to reason that Chrysalis’s attack on Canterlot would have brought changelings into the public eye.
>As a political action the only option for public support would be a massive nationwide crackdown on a species previously contented on being ignored.
>Well, for the most point.
>For a species that feeds on love they sure are full of malice.
>A subtle noise draws your attention.
>It’s not a loud or startling noise.
>More like that of a creature peacefully waking from sleep.
>Zeroing in on its location among the shattered eggs you slowly approach.
>Another noise, same location.
>This one more panicked, the sound of limbs scrabbling against the loose gravel.
>Peeling back a floppy bit of destroyed egg something small and black jumps out and bites down on your left hand.
>With a yelp you reflexively pull back, dragging the hatchling with you.
>As well as a bunch of green cocoony things, probably how it was still alive.
>It’s barely half the size of your forearm, probably only having hatched a week ago.
>Probably when you started this journey.
>Of course you don’t know for sure.
>The little guy still hasn’t let go, you slowly draw your arm higher, he’s still gripping on.
“Lets get you back to your mom, eh?”
>Taking another quick look around you conclude the room to be empty and begin walking back.
“For such a little guy you sure do have a bite.”
>Your hand is begging to bleed a fair amount.
>It’s a shorter walk back to the main area.
>Chrysalis is already there pacing around, wings vibrating furiously.
>Her mood is impossible to discern, sadness, anger, paranoia, regret are all part of the brew.
>The hatchling pressures down a little more, causing you let out an exclamation.
>Once she sees what’s hanging off your arm her eye’s clear.
>The black slits of her irises dilating in joy, the emerald around them taking a back seat.
 
“I shall call him Rambo.”
>She goes up on her hind legs, almost reaching your height and takes Rambo in her forelimbs.
>Rambo won’t let go.
>”It’s okay, it’s okay, I got you now.”
>Rambo can somehow tell who Chrysalis is and slowly calms down, eventually releasing you hand.
>With Rambo’s fangs no longer plugging the holes in your hand it begins to bleed well and proper.
>”Rambo? Not really a name for a changeling…”
>Chrysalis sits down in the middle of the cave hub, with Rambo sitting between her forelegs.
>You take a seat next to her, remove your pack, and begin to use one of your many rags to bandage your hand.
>Every time you try to move Rambo gets up and hisses at you.
>”Rambos a good name… In your home it must mean fierce warrior.”
“Something like that.”
>After about a half hour of peaceable silence Rambo goes to sleep and you’re able to finally move.
“I guess I should start cleaning this place up.”
>”Maybe we could just sit for a while.”
“Also good.”
>”… I lied when I said I would pay you.”
“It doesn’t matter now. Been a hell of a journey.”
----
>Apart from a few short trips into the nearby town to stock up on food and low grade antibiotics,
>You haven’t gone more than a mile from the cave entrance this past month.
>Upon visiting the town you realized just how bad things were, after all you only managed to pay for the goods and medicine
>by taking advantage of the newly formed changeling bounty.
>You claimed all the corpses in the caverns as your own.
>After the first few days Rambo started to warm up to you.
>Now you don’t even move about the caves without him tied around your back or on your chest.
>He defiantly grows faster than a human, already at the mental age of a year or so.
>It’s strange really; according to Chrysalis Rambo is the least aggressive changeling youth she’s ever had.
>Speaking of, Chrysalis has stopped moving almost entirely this whole time.
>She claims that things have stabilized enough that she could lay another clutch.
>Internally you shudder at the thought; human birth is already disgusting enough, let alone calling something a clutch.
>Either way, you said she could take more of your energy if she needed too.
>Apparently she’s been regulating it so she doesn’t ‘husk’ you.
>That’s nice… You guess, you wouldn’t be able to tell anyways, but you trust her.
>When you asked her how she did that she simply responded,
>”You don’t eat everything placed in front of you do you?”
>Oh, almost tripped there.
>Your foot sinks a little deeper into the snow as you take another step forward.
>Carefully you raise one of your foraged cattails up to Rambo.
>You jiggle it a little in his face until he lunges forwards and bites it.
>Earning a chuckle out of you.
>A chuckle that dies when you look at the trail in front of you and all the sets of hoof prints that cover it.
 
>They could be traders, or just some backpackers… Yes a whole battalion of backpackers.
>You knew staying here was a poor idea, both you and Chrysalis assumed that the guard had no clue where this place was.
>And that any remaining Miasma hive members would view coming back as futile.
>Knowing the route they’re taking you speed up to cut them off around the bend.
>Tossing the bag of cattail you book it back to the caverns.
>The whole place has become a lot homier now that there weren’t corpses everywhere.
>Skidding into the now cleaned up hatching chambers.
>Chrysalis looks up at you, as you untie Rambo.
>”Is everything alright?”
“No, If I’m not back in ten minutes leave.”
>Taking a quick moment to look Rambo in the eyes you’re about to put him down.
>He licks your face, unaware of anything that’s happening.
>”Whatever it is I’m sure the two of us can take it!”
“Swampy, you can hardly move.”
>”I’ll find a work around.”
>She won’t.
“Just trust me, I’ll be back soon, but we need to leave immediately after.”
>”You still haven’t told me what’s out there!”
>You toss her the map tube with the compass, and take off down the hallway.
“No time!”
>As you run out the entrance you make sure to grab a few extra carapaces
>judging by the hoof prints they’re coming through on the northern pass.
>More running, you make sure to tie the blanket around your head; it will help with your disguise.
 
>You managed to intercept them right before the bend to the caverns.
>Stopping right by a snow bank, you stop to catch your breath and run through the plan in your head.
>This will work right?
>With that you throw the bundle of carapaces over the bank, drawing the attention of the guard detachment and haul yourself over it.
>You make a show of being surprised by the guard.
“Privyet! Is not of often that I am seeing guards.”
>The one leading steps forward, a tall white stallion in custom purple armor.
>”Citizen, your papers.”
“Da, yes da.”
>You fumble for the documents and hand them over.
>He gives them a cursory glance before handing them off to some other pony.
>”So you’re out here for the bounty I assume?”
“Da. If is of necessary I believes that I may have found main hive.”
>The purple armored unicorn turns to his side and calls out.
>”White Strike, where did queen Miasma say the hive was?”
>The short white unicorn comes forward, this fucker.
>Following you everywhere.
>He looks at you for a moment, and then responds to his commandant.
>”She said that the hive is about half a mile south of here.”
>You shake your head.
“Is not of goods, old information, new hive is west. 20 klicks.”
>The purple armored one turns around again.
>”Twiley? What’s a click?”
>The same purple unicorn comes forward.
>Son. Of. A. Bitch.
>She has her head in a book as she responds.
>”Klick, it’s a griffon slang for kilometer, their unit of distance.”
>She looks up from her book.
>”Oh! I’m so glad it’s you! I looked up albino minotaurs and the picture in the book didn’t look like you!”
>She beams up at you, unaware of what she just did.
 
>At this point shorty, or white strike you guess, glares harder at you.
>Without warning he magic’s your blanket cover down, revealing your face.
>He smiles, the purple armored one looks a little confused.
>”Do you know this…”
>White strike sneers a little, he can smell a promotion in the air.
>”I meet him in the hayseed swamps while we were hunting for that changeling. He had a different accent.”
>Shining looks back at you. This fell apart quickly.
>The purple unicorn or Twiley, is still flipping through a book of rare creatures.
>White strike continues his speech.
>”Then I saw him again on the roadside right before we caught up to qu-“
>At least he continues until your boot connects with his jaw.
>You turn on a dime and run west, hoping that they’ll believe you.
>The guard behind you kicks into action, the earth ponies give chase, and the pegasi take to the skies.
>Fortunately for you, this land is now your home.
>You know all the routes and passages, the snow gives you the advantage, for the first time you might actually be able to out run the guard.
>On the edge of hearing you hear a few shouted orders, and the pegasi draw back, their flight hampered by the dead trees around you.
>The earth ponies stop and fall back.
>You turn for a quick moment, to check the situation.
>On the ridge of the path there are three unicorns levitating bows in front of them, the strings still vibrating in the air.
>The first one passes over your head, the second one impacts square in your left thigh.
>Nowhere near the arteries, but still enough to hinder movement.
>But the last one right in the chest.
>The pain is scary, or even shocking.
>What does send you into a panic is the sensation of your right lung collapsing in on it’s self, the physical sensation of breathing without the air.
>It’s not enough to kill you, but it’s pointless to run any further this way.
>They didn’t fall for it.
 
>Slowly you manage to crawl your way back up to the road; you really didn’t make it that far.
>Eventually you manage to stand and limp your way back.
>Your movement even slower due to the sucking wound.
>You can feel the loose skin around the arrow flap about with every inhale and exhale.
>Finally you can see the cave entrance.
>You’ve left a thin trail of blood, at least they didn’t use broad heads.
>There’s the low boom and din of magic being slung about.
>As you approach the entrance you can see the dull flashes of light reflecting up the cavern passage.
>Suddenly they stop.
>You freeze in place for a split second.
>Any attempt to call out is useless, it comes out ragged and leaves you gasping.
>Drowning in the air around you.
>After what feels like an eternity you make it to the main hub.
>Only the purple armored unicorn and ‘Twiley’ are there, but if the resounding hoofsteps are any indication they’ve already started clearing out the whole area.
>A trio of guards comes out of the hatching chambers two carrying a body bag, one carrying Rambo in his mouth.
 
>You begin to limp forward, the blood loss is getting to you, everything is beginning to lose cohesion.
>Thanks to the echoing sound of hoofs your movements are practically silent.
>It’s only once you draw the machete off your back does one of the guards notice you.
>Not quick enough however as he goes for his spear dropping Rambo as he does so.
>There’s a dull ‘thwap’ as you get the machete stuck in the guards neck.
>Rambo scurries across the ground  and climbs up your leg, and nestles himself in your coat.
>His head is still sticking out, hissing at the pony gaurds around you.
>The spears come up.
>Dopily, your head turns to regard them.
>You fall back on the ground, you can’t tell if it’s the dim light or the loss of blood, but the lights seem to be low right now.
>Since the guards dropped the body bag you grab it by the corner and drag it over and unzip the top.
>Rambo crawls out of you coat and begins to growl and bare his teeth at the guards that have formed a semi-circle around you.
“Hey swampy.”
>The voice feels disembodied and far to wheezy.
>Half her head has been taken off, but one slitted emerald eye still stares back at you.
>She died alone.
>She died without you.
>Neither of you never said ‘I love you’ or anything like that.
>Guess it wasn’t your style.
>Either way, it dosen’t matter anymore.
>You pull her body halfway out of the bag and rest the mangled head on your lap, close her eyes, and reach forward for Rambo.
>In his panic Rambo bites your hand.
>You last action is to grin at your adopted child and put your head back, corpse holding corpse.