The absolute, suffocating absurdity of the situation began to seep into Luna's awareness. One thousand years ago, when soul magic was not so unknown, she had led entire platoons of armored guards to put down interlopers. She knew what they looked like when they cast off their pony forms. Watching a storm of whipping tendrils and long, jagged teeth emerge from a form so familiar left something of a lasting impression, yet here had been an interloper unlike any Luna, or likely any pony, had ever known. 