Changelings could not experience the world like most other ponies. They had almost no concept of personal identity; they were drones from birth, and were raised to see themselves as one part of the larger entity that was the Swarm.

This was a problem for one changeling that had the misfortune of being lured away from the rest. She'd been following a particularly speedy blue pegasus pony through the streets of Canterlot, amused at how nimble the stubborn little creature was. Now she lacked the presence of mind to realize that she was straying too far away from her comrades.

At the time she had worn the guise a garishly orange mare dressed in a strange skin-tight blue jumpsuit. Whoever the stallion was, his love for the mare was strong enough that it made the chase worthwhile.

For a few minutes the changeling enjoyed herself. The blue colt was extremely athletic; his burly form was shockingly agile and he had the kind of endurance that would make most professional athletes jealous. She chased him in the dying twilight, savoring the chase and the taste of his fear.

It would be weeks before the changeling understood what happened next. Magic suddenly saturated the air around her, so sickeningly overwhelming that she could hardly stand to breathe. An unstoppable force crashed into her and sent her careening wildly out of control. The changeling joined her kin as they were catapulted out of the city, hurled carelessly away like garbage blowing in the wind. It was, she decided, an extremely unpleasant experience. Her queen would be very displeased.

Her flight path was different from the others. The changeling worried when she realized that she would not land in the same place as the rest of the Swarm. She tried to correct her course, but the fragile membranes of her wings tore away from her body the moment she opened them. The pain blinded her and she momentarily blacked out.

When she woke there was a very large, very frightening object rushing to meet her. She was on a collision course with Equestria itself! The changeling instinctively tried to flare her wings, but there was nothing left of them. She saw a quaint little western town pass by and briefly wondered if she looked like some sort of shooting star to the ponies below.

The town disappeared behind her. Now there was only the ground, approaching at a speed that gave her precious little time to come up with a plan.

Fortunately the changeling wasn't completely helpless. She had gorged herself on love and other emotions in Canterlot, and all that magical energy was still coursing through her body. She forced it out in front of her, slowing her descent and creating a protective green dome of energy. She hoped it would be enough.

The changeling had never been very good at magic, but sometimes brute force accomplished what an experienced hoof could not. The shield held as she hit the ground, earth and debris scattering in every direction from the colossal impact. She breathed a sigh of relief as she skipped across the ground like a stone over a lake's surface, her magical shield protecting her from harm. Had she not been in fear for her life she might have thought this a surprisingly pleasant way to travel.

Then the magic faltered. The changeling truly began to panic as she saw a mesa approaching. Hitting level ground was bad enough, but if she hit the sheer rock wall at full speed there would be nothing left of her but a green smear.

She wasn't quite that unlucky. Her shield held until she hit the mesa before shattering like an eggshell against the unyielding rock. The impact wasn't what it might have been otherwise, but it still caused her to lose consciousness for the second time that day.

The changeling woke to the sound of a wounded animal howling. She didn't realize right away that the animal was her, or that the chitin along her left side had been deeply fractured by the impact. Some of the larger cracks were so deep that she could see the oozing green of her innards. Trying to move only fractured her exoskeleton more, causing more pain than she could ever remember experiencing.

She tried to contact her queen. Chrysalis was out there somewhere, alive and undoubtedly making preparations to restore her kingdom to its former glory. The changeling reached out to her, using some of the tiny reserves of power she had left: "My queen, help me. I am dying."

The queen brushed her away so casually that it hurt. "I have other concerns."

Nothing made sense. Her queen loved her. Her queen looked after her. Why was she being ignored? "Please don't let me die out here. Wasn't I a good changeling? Wasn't I a good daughter?" No matter how hard she concentrated, Queen Chrysalis wouldn't respond. The psychic connection between subject and ruler began to fray apart as the changeling made one last plea for help and was again refused. The queen evidently had better things to do.

The changeling could feel herself growing weaker. She shut her eyes and tried to lie still to avoid causing herself any more pain than was absolutely necessary. This was it then; She would bleed out onto this pathetic patch of dirt, cut off from her Swarm and completely helpless. It seemed a poor reward for years of faithful service to the Swarm. She felt the urge to cry as ponies sometimes did, but she had no tear ducts.

Hoofsteps disturbed her just as she was about to nod off. "Hello?" someone called. "Anypony out there?"

The changeling felt a surge of hope. She could feel concern flowing from the approaching pony. It gave her just enough strength to change shape, but she had no idea what form would be well-received.

A lantern bobbed out of the darkness and offered a solution to her problem. The changeling could see a tan earth pony approaching. She quickly summoned the image of a similar pony and felt the magic wash over her, molding her flesh like soft clay until she resembled an orange pony she'd briefly encountered in Canterlot. This also had the unfortunate effect of twisting her injured side while it reformed. The changeling struggled to stay awake even though it would probably be a mercy to pass out again.

"Hey over there!" the pony cried. "What're you doin' out here? Are you alright?"

He drew closer and set his lantern down, illuminating himself a bit better in the process. His orange mane peaked out from beneath a dusty cowpony hat that complimented his leather vest. The changeling was reminded of an old western she had once seen while infiltrating Manehattan many years before. She couldn't remember much about it, but it had something to do with an angry pony that had a scar on his face.

The cowpony knelt beside her and lightly touched her side. The changeling wheezed out an agonized breath. "Looks like your ribs are broke. I can't carry ya like this but I got an old wagon I could load ya in."

The changeling shook her head, afraid of being left alone in the desert. "I'll be right back," he promised. "Don't you be scared now, y'hear?"

"Hurts," the changeling whispered. At this rate she wouldn't be able to keep breathing for much longer. Each breath hurt more than the last as it shifted her new ribs. Ponies, she decided, had very inefficient bodies.

Braeburn knelt next to her and gently brushed her hoof with his own. "I know it does," he soothed. "Try not to move. I'll be back with that wagon 'fore you can even notice I'm gone."

The changeling smiled. Somepony was caring for her, and that gave her strength. She wasn't looking forward to being carted into town like a bushel of apples, but she could tolerate the embarrassment if it meant surviving the night.

Braeburn took off at full speed. True to his word, he returned as quickly as he could with a wagon in tow. When he tried to lift her into the wagon the changeling finally lost her tenuous grasp on the waking world. The pain had finally become too much, and she was exhausted from a hard day of terrorizing ponies. Sleep took her in an iron grip and she had no choice but to surrender to it.

The changeling woke in a hospital bed. At least, she assumed that this was how a hospital bed should look. She'd never been in a hospital before, but the stories of soft sheets and clean white bandages seemed to be right on the money. She hoped the stories of scary needles were less accurate.

A unicorn in a white lab coat was examining some x-rays next to her bed. "Ah, look who's awake!" he exclaimed. "I'm Dr. Stable. Welcome back to the world of the living. How do you feel?"

The changeling shut her eyes and tried to take stock of her injuries. Eventually she had to stop counting. "Awful," she answered. "Should I feel differently?"

"I wouldn't think so." The unicorn sighed and set the x-rays down on a countertop. "I don't know what you were doing out there in the desert, but you took one of the worst beatings I've ever seen. What happened to you? No, better question: who are you? I've treated just about everypony in town at one point or another, and I don't think I've ever seen you before."

The changeling was not used to thinking for herself. She struggled to think of a believable name that related to the cutie mark she had given herself. "My name is…Carrot…um, Cake. Carrot Cake."

Ponies liked cake, right?

Luckily the changeling was rescued from the doctor's suspicious gaze by a knock at the door. "Come in," Dr. Stable sighed. "Make it quick because she needs her rest."

A face framed by an orange mane and a cowpony hat peeked into the room. "Howdy miss!" Braeburn called. "How are ya?"

"Why does everyone…everypony keep asking me that?"

"Dumb question I guess," Braeburn admitted. "Just wanted to make sure you'd be okay."

"She'll survive," Dr. Stable said hesitantly. "That doesn't mean she'll be okay. You'd be hard-pressed to find one of the few ribs that she didn't break and her shoulder blade was badly fractured. She's not going to be doing much of anything apart from lying in bed for a few weeks at least."

"Well what in tarnation happened out there?" Braeburn asked. "You were in a right awful state, miss. Still are, if'n Doc here knows his stuff. What did this to ya?"

The changeling was beginning to sweat. She wished she had her old body with its hard chitin plates and smooth exterior. It was much more comfortable. "I didn't what attacked me. It was dark."

"There was somethin' that flew over the town last night," Braeburn said thoughtfully. "Happened not ten minutes before I found you. This is the first time somepony's been attacked so close to town in years. Seems a little too much for a coincidence, if ya ask me."

Stable rolled his eyes and went back to the x-rays. "Let's not let our imaginations get the best of us. Ms. Cake has plenty to deal with at the moment."

Braeburn shrugged his shoulder, somehow drawing his back legs into the gesture and making his whole body bob up and down. The changeling had never seen a pony shrug with all four legs before. "Yeah, reckon you're right. She'll need a place to stay for a while, right? Aunt and Uncle Apricot might be willin' to look after her for a while."

"That might be best," Stable agreed. "Still, she'll be here for at least a week. Her side was scraped raw in some places and we need to make sure infection doesn't set in. After that we might see about moving her."

"You're the expert. Now that everything's sorted out I guess I'd better get back to work." Braeburn tipped his hat and smiled. "Ma'am."

"Who was that?" the changeling asked once the cowpony had backed out of the room.

"Braeburn," the doctor said absently. He was still going over her x-rays. "Sherriff's deputy and farmhoof, among other things. He's pretty popular around here." He squinted at his work, looking extremely annoyed. "There's something off about these images. Look at how fuzzy they are!"

The changeling bit her lip and tried to look innocent. She knew exactly what had happened; the magical energies coursing through her body must have distorted the x-rays just as they would interfere with most other forms of technology. Dr. Stable slid them into a folder and scribbled her name on the front. "We'll get the machine examined later. Can I get you anything? You haven't eaten in a while."

The changeling had little interest in food. Love and affection were by far the most satisfying forms of sustenance, delectable beyond belief and extremely addictive. The clinical concern of her doctor, however, was like eating a single potato chip: tasty, but hardly filling. She found herself missing the taste of Braeburn's freely-given affection. It was better than the trickle of emotion from her doctor, if only just.

With no other way of sustaining herself, the changeling would have to eat. "Food would be nice," she sighed. "And…and tell Braeburn that I said 'thank you'."

The doctor was already gone, so she doubted that he'd heard. She didn't much care one way or the other. The changeling let out a bored sigh and decided to go back to sleep. She was exhausted, even after only being awake for a few minutes. Healing could do that to a pony.

Before she nodded off she made one final attempt to contact her queen: "Forget about helping me. I don't think I want your help anymore." She received no answer, but she hadn't been expecting one.

Dr. Stable, had he been asked, would have described the little orange pony as "freakishly healthy". Her recovery was, for a medical professional, downright unnerving. During the next week he paid close attention to her condition. He made careful not of the incredible speed at which she was healing, her strange blood chemistry, and her impressive appetite. Then he immediately buried the notes.

He was intimately familiar with such symptoms, more so than he would care to admit.

Within four days Carrot Cake was ready to leave the hospital. She said her goodbyes to the nurses, thanked Dr. Stable for all of his help, and walked to her new home under her own power. Dr. Stable tried not to call attention her miraculous recovery. It was best, he decided, to keep such a thing under wraps for now because he wasn't quite sure if his former patient was dangerous.

There were creatures that could pretend to be a pony. strange beings that could change shape when it was convenient for them. He was most familiar with changelings, but they were just the tip of the supernatural iceberg. There was an entire world of weirdness out there, and at its center were the creatures known as the fey. Sometimes it was a good idea to befriend them. Other times it was best to leave them be.

But it was never a good idea to cross one. Stable resolved to keep a close eye on Carrot Cake in case she turned out to be a threat. He was, after all, a medical professional in a relatively wild and untamed portion of Equestria. It was only natural for him to come across unnatural things from time to time, usually when he examined their victims. He knew who to contact if there was trouble.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Carrot Cake seemed friendly enough and Stable wished her nothing but the best. He was even hoping that she'd stick around for a while since Braeburn had gotten so attached to her.

Still, there was always that business card at the bottom of a drawer in his desk. Perhaps he would call Mjölna just to be on the safe side. There was nothing wrong with getting a second opinion.

Farmers and vipers and all that.

I think I'll just leave this here. The entire story is done, but the way. Since most of my stuff goes unfinished that should be a welcome surprise. I just have to go through and change a few minor details, like getting rid of an OC that totally should never have existed. BRAIN, YOU HAVE FAILED ME.

I think people might be getting burned out on changeling stories by now. I haven't been keeping up on my fanfic reading lately, but I've seen quite a few changelings running around. Oh well. Maybe I can draw people in with Mjölna. She seems to have developed a small fan base. Personally I'm glad to see that Thor found a way to Equestria, even if it means he pulled a Loki and changed genders.

That's totally not my backstory for Mjölna, by the way, just in case you were worried. Using a changeling for the main character instead of a regular pony might take some getting used to, but throwing in a thunder god? That would be…

…I'll be right back. I have to go write a story about a changeling and a thunder god.