I own neither My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, the Alien franchise, nor the concept of the Alien itself. They are the property of Hasbro, James Cameron, and H.R. Giger, respectively. Enjoy.

Xenophobia

A slight breeze rustled the grass and three plump acorns plummeted from a tree on the edge of the dark, slightly forbidding forest. The culprit responsible for the falling nuts, an adolescent red squirrel, clambered down from his current foraging spot and began to inspect his lunch. Unbeknownst to the small creature, however, a slightly larger animal awaited her chance to pounce.

Winona, a brown and whit herding dog, sat on her haunches downwind of her prey. She observed the young squirrel's movements with anticipation and, despite her instincts, some semblance of guilt. Bow Pony didn't like it when Winona chased squirrels, but Winona couldn't help herself. She did everything in her power not to be referred to as "Baddog," but sometimes her need to pursue - to give chase - was just too great to ignore.

The canine glanced over her muscular shoulder in anxiety. Seeing that she was alone with her quarry, the dog relaxed visibly and turned her attention back to the squirrel. With a start, Winona realized the furry creature had begun to move on, gathering its spoils in its cheeks and scurrying off to the northeast. Into the Everfree Forest.

Winona had no fear of the dense mass of foliage that was Everfree. She, like all of her kind, felt a certain connection with the forest: dating back to when the first Earth Pony Tribes began settling the area and forming special bonds with her kind. The forest was her ancestral home, and as such could not possibly be of harm to her.

Despite her confidence, however, Winona hesitated. Her eyes squinched shut as the voices of her family bounced about inside her skull.

"Baddog! Baddog! Baddog!"

Hat Pony and Big Pony. Eyes leering. Mouths drawn tight.

She had been in the forest before; reveled in the delicious scents her kind had forgotten, rolled in some unidentifiable (yet beautiful) muck, and returned to the farm safely on many occasions. Thrice she had been intercepted: always by Big Pony. He never leaves the farm. Hat Pony and Bow Pony often disappear for days but Big Pony remains constant. Him and the Old One. Her rocking back and forth hypnotically in her chair, and him lazing about the orchards, occasionally tossing Winona a stick. She loved that stick.

Whenever Winona was caught returning, fur matted and covered in some substance or other, Big Pony would call for his sister and the both of them would rain disappointed words upon Winona. After the tirade, the whimpering canine was often dumped unceremoniously in the barn washbasin for a cleaning. She hated giving her family reason for disappointment. She wanted them to be happy. Like when she was chasing squirrels. Maybe if they tried it they would see what great fun pursuit of fuzzy creatures could be! Even Bow Pony might see!

With this thought she opened her eyes.

Forgetting her apprehension, Winona slunk through the clump of blueberry bushes she had been waiting in and resumed stalking the beast bounding away ahead of her. She silently resolved not to be caught this time. Hat Pony had been preoccupied with something lately and had been spending more time away from the farm. The others could be easily avoided if she returned home in the late morning hours, when chores had yet to be finished.

Winona silently gained on the contented squirrel. Ten yards shortened to eight. Six. Four.

The squirrel stopped to sniff the air, mouth lolling open and discharging its load of acorns.

The dog froze, poised on her haunches: ready to break into a mad dash after the young animal. The air having stagnated inside the tree line, Winona knew it was only a matter of time before the furry thing became aware of her.

Suddenly, the squirrel zipped off, leaving his hard earned lunch behind and dashing between two poplars. Winona let out a surprised yip and quickly gave chase.

She ran for what seemed like hours: progressing deeper and deeper into Everfree. Adrenaline pumping, Winona exhilarated in her excitement and looked forward to the familiar feeling of absolute power she usually received once she had captured her prey.

Unfortunately for her, the squirrel had other ideas. Too afraid to realize safety was just a quick tree-climb away, the squirrel continued to scurry about the forest, looking for a suitable safe haven. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the darkened entrance to what appeared to be a small cavern. The desperate creature quickly dove through the hole, Winona hot on his heels.

Without a single sign of her previous hesitation, Winona forced herself through the tight opening and fell eight feet straight down, landing squarely on her head. Dazed, but still intent on finding her quarry, she leapt to her feet and glanced about, a low growl emanating from the back of her throat. It was then that the smell hit her.

It was a tangy, mildewy smell, but was not altogether unpleasant. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the underground room, she was able to make out several large boil-shaped protuberances on the floor, walls, and even ceiling of the cave. If Winona had known what stalactites and stalagmites were, she would have immediately dismissed the structures as neither. Forgetting the squirrel, Winona cautiously began to move toward one of the "boils."

Stepping out of the shaft of light filtering down through the cave entrance, the canine approached a cluster of three of the large structures. The smell she had noticed earlier became more pungent as she closed the gap between her and the not-stalagmites before her, smelling something akin to a mixture of old fish and spilt blood. The smell excited her, but she didn't understand why.

She was less than a foot away from the protuberances now and slowly extended her neck forward, nudging the thing with her snout. She snapped back quickly. The thing had been warm to the touch, but that was not the most disturbing part. When she had touched it, something… moved.

Winona took a step back and cast a quizzical look at the object before her. Was it alive? If so, was it friendly… or a baddog?

Before Winona could question further, the top of the object stirred.

Winona flinched and took another step back. She was not afraid of the thing in front of her: merely curious. She wondered if Bow Pony would like to have these things. Bow Pony liked strange and wonderful objects and often showed them to Winona whenever she had the fortune of finding them. The dog always stared at the objects she was offered in awe, tail wagging, even when she had no idea what the object was that Bow Pony was displaying. Winona stopped retreating and, determined to bring back whatever this object was for her little master, advanced on the pimple-like thing.

As she began her plan to take the smelly object prisoner, the very tip of the boil-shaped formation split into four sections, opening like a banana. Winona froze once more at this unexpected development.

After a moment of stillness, a scuttling sound emitted from the top of the now opened object. The sound was not unlike that of Bow Pony's chatter-teeth toy, and though the noise was familiar to Winona, her body tensed at the sound. Six long, yellowish legs slithered out from the opening in the egg (or, at least, what Winona assumed was an egg), and the largest spider Winona had ever laid eyes on pulled itself onto the lip of the hole.

The creature seemed to regard Winona, even though it had no visible eyes with which to do so, and stretched its legs: making the familiar rattling sound amid the pop of underused joints. The spider-thing became still and… nothing happened. For what seemed like centuries the two stood facing each other. Not moving.

Just as the dog was going to make a move toward the exit, the creature sprang: catapulted by a robust, segmented tail. Before Winona could even blink, the strange animal had wrapped its strong tail around her throat and had a death grip on her face. Muscles on the creature's underside flexed and gripped around her lips, teeth, and jaws, pulling back and forcing her mouth open.

Winona struggled hard: shaking her head about with all her might and gouging at the thing wrapped around her face with her nails. She growled loudly, hoping to menace the attacking creature.

Being unable to see because the creature covered both of her eyes with its enveloping torso, Winona stumbled into the cavern wall. The thing's tail tightened around her throat, choking her, and a slick, tube-like appendage slid down her trachea.

Growing more panicked by the second, the canine rammed her head into the granite wall as hard as she could, but only succeeded in encouraging the animal to tighten its grip further.

Head pounding, chest burning, Winona collapsed to the ground. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. But she could feel all right. She could definitely do that.

The tube down her throat began expanding and contracting, straining against the walls of her trachea and wracking her body with pain. Winona was blacking out. It was harder to tell without the use of her eyes, but she knew.

Her thoughts had become fuzzy. Her limbs became numb. All she wanted to do was sleep… drifting away into her subconscious to escape this nightmare.

As Winona passed out from oxygen deprivation, her last thought echoed through her failing consciousness: chatter-teeth… chatter-teeth. After one last twitch of the hind leg, the cave was peaceful once more.

An adolescent squirrel emerged from behind another cluster of the eggs and cautiously crept toward the crumpled figure of its previous tormentor. He cocked his head, listening. After a few seconds he heard faint breathing and saw the canine's chest begin to move ever so slightly with each breath. The young animal squeaked and scurried toward the shaft of light coming from the cave entrance. He began to climb the steep incline to the hole, utilizing protruding tree roots and submerged rocks as hand and footholds. Clawing his way onto the grassy forest floor, he emerged from the cave into the bright light of midday. He ambled slowly away, not looking back.

More to come, but I'm a busy guy so be patient. Thanks for reading.