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Monster.

That's what they called the members of the Enclave, the shadowy section of the government that bubbled upward when everything went straight to nuclear hell.

Monster.

That's what I called them - or, tried to call them - as the bastards slit my throat, leaving me to die in that godforsaken hellhole.

Monster.

That's what they used to call me, when I ever removed the mask. But here? Out in the Mojave?

They don't see me that way, because we're all the same. To the Enclave, to each other, to those damnable geckos that keep popping up when you least expect them. We're all monsters in the glow of the radiation.

Sometimes, radiation has a weird effect on people.

Take me, for example.

I grew up pretty safe from the dangers of the outside world; for the most part, anyway. At least until the Enclave extended their reach to me, of all people. And with nothing else in my life to keep me from serving beneath them, what else was I going to put my knowledge to use for? Building birdhouses in my spare time?

No, I gladly accepted their offer. Could be why I was so surprised when I found out just what they were up to; guess propaganda just doesn't match up to the truth. It's simple, obvious things like that, the little things that always went over my head. Genius, my ass.

Monster.

Sometimes, it's better to be forgotten. To be nameless, to be faceless. Sometimes, it's better to be no one of importance, especially when the whole world wants you dead.

Monster.

Sometimes, when the world is filling up with heroes desperate to prove their gallantry and fervor by slaying the monsters and demons in the dark, it's better to be unnoticed.

Out here, in the Mojave?

I'm nobody.

Nobody at all.

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"Check!"

"Saddlebags?"

"Check-o!"

"Homework assignment."

"Check-a-roony-doony!" Sweetie Belle chirruped, eagerly prancing back and forth in front of the door like an antsy Opal after a full meal.

"Oh, very well, then." Rarity mock-sighed, her horn alighting in a soft glow as the front door swung open, the morning sunlight pouring in. She smiled kindly, if a little sadly. "Have fun at school."

"Whee!" Sweetie's high pitched, slightly scratchy cheer of success following her as she bounded swiftly out of Carousel Boutique, throwing a quick wave goodbye to her elder sister.

The enthusiastic unicorn galloped forward as quickly as she could, the soft felt of her schoolbags pushing into her sides as she ran. Rarity had kept her preoccupied long enough, what with all the fussing over her mane and insisting on making breakfast for her first day back at school. It didn't take long for her to reach their usual meeting place at the crossroads, and Sweetie pushed herself even faster when she saw Scootaloo and Applebloom awaiting her. She grinned manically as she came to a breathy halt, huffing and puffing to catch her breath.

"Ain't never heard a' pacin' yourself, have ya'?" Applebloom teased, cocking an eyebrow.

"Peh-shaw." Scootaloo interjected flippantly. "Pacing is for slowpokes! Right, Sweetie?"

Sweetie Belle, however, was having difficulty breathing. Something which gave Applebloom a great deal of amusement, of course.

The trio trotted at an even pace toward their ultimate destination, the staple in their lives that rang of many paper-filled days ahead. For Sweetie Belle, school wasn't so much about spending more time with her friends as it was about learning; and, with an inquisitive mind like her own, it was a welcoming place. That didn't mean she wasn't overjoyed to see her friends, of course. It was going to be a good day.

At least, it would be, without a certain other pony or two.

"What's the matter? Afraid of being la~ate, Blank Flanks?"

Scootaloo's head turned so quickly, Sweetie could have sworn she heard it snap.

She wasn't quite certain how Diamond Tiara had actually managed to convince Silver Spoon to pull the spoiled brat in a small wagon up the dirt road. However, pull, she did, and Silver Spoon's constant toiling to tug her 'friend' was testament to that.

"Aw, come on!" Sweetie Belle moaned in despair, her head drooping. "It's the first day!" she spat in frustration, glaring at their regular antagonist. "Can't you behave yourself for one day, Tiara?"

The pale bubblegum-colored pony gasped in offense, a hoof flying up to her mouth. "How dare you! As if I would ever do anything-!"

"Got that right," Silver Spoon grunted, tugging on the wagon handle.

"What was that?" Diamond Tiara snapped, glaring at her.

"Nothing!" the straining earth pony replied instantly, refocusing her efforts on pulling Tiara.

Sweetie Belle felt a pang of sympathy for the grey earth pony. At least, for a split second, before Diamond Tiara's attention was directed at her.

"Your saddlebags are ugly." Tiara said lazily, eyes narrowing at Sweetie. However, true to her status as friend, Applebloom was quick to reply.

"Ugly saddlebags." Applebloom chuckled, noting the lack of Tiara's own. She was probably making Silver Spoon carry them, anyway. "You're slippin', Tiara. Spend all summer comin' up with that?"

Diamond Tiara stood angrily in the wagon as it moved, bobbling back and forth. Before she could give her retort, however, Scootaloo quickly took up the mantle.

"Don't say things like that, Applebloom!" the merengue pegasus said jokingly. "She probably had Silver Spoon do it."

"How dare you-!" Diamond Tiara glowered, stamping a hoof.

"How dare, how dare – has anypony told you that you're very repetitive?" Sweetie Belle asked nonchalantly, doing her best to keep her face straight.

Tiara let out a whistle of rage through her teeth. She stamped twice more against the wagon, silently insisting that Silver Spoon work faster.

"See you 'round, Sombra Junior!" Applebloom called tauntingly after her as they sped down the road, and the scream of frustration that bellowed back was oddly satisfying.

Sweetie Belle giggled, shaking her head. There'd be no end to Diamond Tiara for the entire year; as a matter of fact, they'd probably just worsened their situation. But who cared? So long as they had each other, they were confident that they could handle anything that crossed their paths.

It was this sort of youthful arrogance that Sweetie Belle came to both regret, and long for. The countless nights she spent urgently wishing to return to those innocent days, the numberless hours she spent calling her friend's names – she'd give anything to go back to that blissful ignorance.

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It had been an average day.

Sweetie Belle saw her friends, her first day back at school had gone as expected, and the sun was shining heartily.

"Yeah, sorry." Scootaloo rubbed the back of her neck guiltily, ruffling her small wings. "I can't today. I promised R.D that I'd pick up on my reading."

"Really?" Applebloom asked skeptically, trotting mindfully alongside her feathered friend, her head full of the day's events. "When was this?"

"Scoots'd deep-fry herself if Rainbow Dash asked her to," Sweetie grinned, sticking her tongue out.

"Nu-uh!" Scootaloo's eyebrows gathered together as she scrunched her face. "I was going to get a book on practical aerial tactics, anyhow!"

"Sure ya' were." The young farm pony nodded, spotting her elder sister at the crossroad. It didn't take long for Scootaloo to scurry off, further into Ponyville.

"See you tomorrow, I guess?" Sweetie Belle asked hopefully, nodding to Applejack as they drew closer.

"A'course!" the filly said enthusiastically. "Maybe even later today, after I help Applejack with some o' the fritters for Big Mac's birthday party."

"There's a party?" Sweetie Belle stopped in her tracks, a little hurt that she hadn't even known. Or been invited.

Applebloom, however, was too busy catching up with her tired-looking orange sister to answer. They eventually left Sweetie Belle standing dejectedly and alone at the crossroads, and she let out a heavy sigh.

Wish my sister would walk ME home, Sweetie thought a little bitterly, but pushed it from her mind. Rarity had a very busy schedule, and besides; she wasn't a foal. She could walk herself home.

But, still.

It was a quiet walk. The soft clopping of hooves meeting the dirt road gradually faded away as Sweetie Belle lost herself in her thoughts, saddlebags shifting into a more comfortable position. Then again, they might have been more comfortable if Ms. Cheerilee had avoided giving them homework on the first day back at school.

Perhaps it was because she was so caught up in her thoughts that, at first, she didn't notice the peculiar glowing blue ring of light.

She noticed that her hooves had changed color first; or at least, they appeared to have done so, in the dim glow of the rotating circle of light, hanging dully in the air above. Her mouth hanged open in surprise and shock, and for a moment, she felt as if her mind had simply stopped processing information.

It was just something that didn't happen on an average day, after all.

Neither was the sudden appearance of a freakishly tall, steel-clad abomination that dropped out of the ring.

Sweetie Belle barely had time to register the information, let alone scream when it dragged her through the ring of light. Within a couple of seconds, the rippling portal was gone, leaving the dirt path devoid of pony life.

The only thing that indicated anypony had ever been there at all were a single set of tracks, cut off sharply in the middle of the road by a single scorch mark.

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Sometimes, I forget how long I've been traveling.

It's easy to get lost in the Mojave, mostly because everything looks pretty much the same. There's a lot of dirt, and a lot of sand.

A lot of sand.

However, over time, I've gradually gotten to the point where I can recognize areas pretty easily by their wildlife, the tracks and markers left previously; you know, living off the fat of the land. It's really not as difficult as it sounds, so long as you're not too picky about what or when you eat.

Water, though – water can be a pain in the ass to come by.

I was getting a drink, one way or another.

At first, I was pretty damned thrilled when I found that small pool of water, just as the sun was setting in preparation for another dark night. A nice little pond, with a little vegetation in a sandy outcropping? Yeah, doesn't happen every day. Regardless, I welcomed the sight with open canteens.

From the taste of it, the water might have even been a little radioactive. But, then again, I don't really worry much about radiation since the whole 'Enclave' thing.

Actually, that's an outright lie. I worry plenty about the radiation; it's all a matter of how badly you get irradiated that's important. Nobody really wants to wind up a mutant. The stuff in the water was pretty weak anyway, and I hadn't had anything to drink for a couple of days. In the middle of the desert, that's usually a pretty bad thing.

Only took me one time to figure that one out. The sad part is that it took me a single time at all.

Genius, my ass.

By the time I'd gotten a good drink from the water and set up a small encampment for the night, I was really looking forward to some good shut-eye. An empty little cove, with a (mostly) good water source, no Radscorpions, Radroaches, or even regular roaches for once? It sounded too good to be true.

Turns out, it really was too good to be true. Lady Luck is a fickle bitch.

I was maybe – maybe – five minutes into a good sleep on my worn bedroll. You know, the really comfortable kind of sleep, and you're just on the edge of a sweet dream full of bacon and non-radioactive substances. I hate being woken up unexpectedly almost as much as I do being caught without my mask; that's why I never take it off.

Ever.

It bugs me enough when I have to lift up the bottom just to eat or drink something. Not that I'm self-conscious of my looks, or anything. It's just very, very uncomfortable to take off. Or move. Ever.

Okay, maybe ten minutes. I was pretty out of it. There might have been something in that water after all. The point is, I was comfortable, dammit. I know I really shouldn't have been, and I've had to learn the hard way a couple of times that a deep sleeper is likely to sleep forever. I didn't really want to get up and investigate the screaming when it started, any more than I did the peculiar blue light basking the little cove in luminescence.

On the other hand, I definitely recognized the sound of clinking ceramic composites and metallic alloys, interspersed with the miniature nuclear reactor core pumping into the MK I power armor. Given my current disposition, it's a little difficult to forget a sound like that.

I was up faster than you could blink, even though it felt like I was fighting my muscles to move that quickly. Quietly wriggling my way up the sand dune in a belly crawl as the light began to fade, I peered over the outcropping down at one of the weirdest things I have ever seen.

And believe you me, once I got a glimpse in a mirror, I thought I'd seen it all.

It was definitely MK I power armor, all right. The glint of it in the pale starlight, I watched through my slightly dusty goggles as what I swear to God was a portal silently zipped shut behind him. To be honest, I kind of freaked out a little.

Okay, maybe a lot. I freaked out a lot. I panicked.

I saw the power armor, the portal. The first thing that came to my mind were thoughts of being hunted down by the remnants of the Enclave, ensuring that they were doing their 'job'. Or that they'd finally achieved their goals of long range teleportation, and that the apocalypse was nigh. For me, anyway.

From the swearing and the way the wearer of the metal suit was slapping angrily at a small glowing box, I'd have guessed that I wasn't too far off with the teleportation idea. Apparently, the tiny blue cube was either shaking violently, or Tin Man here was having an epileptic seizure. He only held it in one gauntleted hand, though, and it took me a long minute to figure out why.

In his other hand, he held a caged prisoner.

And I might not have the best sight through these goggles, but I'm damned sure that little furred thing wasn't a Radscorpion.

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Rad Child – As your radiation sickness increases, you gain cumulative regenerative capabilities.

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Author's Note:

Guess who discovered Fallout?

So, since discovering both Fallout - and, by extent, Fallout: Equestria - I have wasted about two or three HUNDRED hours of my life.

That's usually not a good thing.

However, I don't know if it can technically be called 'wasted' if I'm using what information I have to make something out of it. For the record, if you haven't yet read Fallout: Equestria, then you have my pity, because it is awesome.

Seriously, go give Kkat some love.

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"Let me go – let me go!" Sweetie Belle shrieked shakily, pushing with futility against the bars of her small cage. The abominable metal monster shook the cage viciously, causing her to fall silent almost immediately.

"Jesus Christ," Phillip Juarez swore angrily from beneath his power armor, bitterly dropping the small cage and giving his useless Pip-Boy 3000 a couple of violent pokes. Not that the action could damage it, of course; he'd been supplied with one of the older models, anyway – the Pip-Boy 3000-A. Apparently, not quite as durable and reliable as he'd been told it was, as he couldn't even receive a proper signal from the base. He shuffled the sawed off shotgun on his hip, picking at a scab.

"Piece of crap." Phillip grumbled, slapping around his thighs for the secondary radio broadcaster that he could use to get back in touch with his commanding officers. Jerking off his helmet for a little more breathing room, he seethed quietly. It was too much trouble, being yanked back to the real world through the 'teleporters' Enclave's research and development team had 'created'. In his opinion, they'd probably stolen it. It looked and behaved alien enough to be Russian, or maybe even Chinese. He frowned as he toyed with the broadcaster, flicking it on while the wretched creature in the cage wailed at him.

"Please, somepony help me!"

"Shut the hell up, would you?" Phillip yelled at the terrified unicorn, giving the cage another mean kick. Sweetie Belle whimpered as she was tossed viciously against the side, tumbling a few feet with the prison.

The unicorn began to cry again, but seeing the metal monster preparing to kick the cage again, she bit down on one hoof to stifle the noise. Grunting satisfactorily that she'd been successfully subdued, Phillip returned to his attempt at contacting the base and getting his labor over with. With as much 'data collection' as they'd had him do, it was a surprise he hadn't gotten cancer or something from being temporarily jettisoned into alternate dimensions over and over again.

It was also a surprise to Phillip when a foot was temporarily jettisoned into his face.

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I have to admit, I'm not much of a people person.

Ever since I was a kid, I just wasn't much good at talking to people. I always preferred to stay locked up in my room, toying around with different invention ideas and taking apart old machinery my big brother would bring back for me sometimes. Besides, it wasn't like anybody in the 'safe zone' had anything decent to say.

You would not believe how boring some people can be. Just talking and talking about themselves! It's insane!

Machines, though. I like technology, and I'm okay with animals. Mostly because they talk about as much as machines do. Don't get me wrong; machines talk plenty. They've got their very own language, their own programming, their own quirks and benefits, pros and weaknesses; they're great. Animals are kind of like computers, in that aspect.

So, you can understand why I might have been a little upset at seeing someone kicking the equivalent of a puppy right in front of me.

Sure, I could plainly see that it sure as hell wasn't a puppy. From the way it looked, I'd have guessed it was some kind of centaur-esque mutant. It took me a few seconds before I actually recognized it for what it was; I just couldn't figure out how in the hell one of those Enclave thugs managed to get their grimy hands on a pony.

And that's when I got the real surprise.

"Please, somepony help me!"

It talked.

That thing, that little white pony – a unicorn, at that – just talked. Perfect English.

And that slimy son of a bitch kicked her.

What else was I supposed to do but return the favor?

I waited until he'd turned away from her before making my move; from the outcropping above him, I actually had a pretty good line of sight, regardless of the way my crappy M-40 gas mask altered my vision a little. Calculating the trajectory, and gauging for my body mass plus the downward pull of gravitational forces in addition to my initial momentum, I was easily able to determine that the dropkick to the face really fucking hurt.

Tin Man went down with a squawk like a deranged chicken, and out colder than a box of ice cubes.

On the downside, I think I nearly broke my leg.

Tumbling off of the unconscious creep and wiping the blood off my foot in the sand, I started doing what I do best.

Scavenging.

See, I don't like people, but I like killing people even less. It's just not good for Karma, and that's one thing our mother always beat into our little noggins.

Sure enough, Enclave Boy here was loaded down with all sorts of survival goodies – radioactivity resistant packaged dry goods, a couple of dandy Stim-packs. And there's a point where I just say screw Karma, because I took the prick's water canteens, too.

… What? The bastard kicked a puppy! Er, unicorn. Whatever.

When I was done pillaging his unconscious body (god, that sounded wrong) I finagled a little keycard from him, which I guessed was for the cage. If it wasn't, well… we could see if the pony was dynamite resistant. Honestly, I didn't like the idea of blasting open the cage, but if it was necessary to bust the little thing out I'd do it in a heartbeat.

With that grim thought in mind, I turned to the poor frightened thing to consolingly provide the nurturing care of a much needed and incredibly macho silent guardian angel.

Only to discover that the little monster had magicked open the door by herself, and was holding a loaded shotgun directly at my head.

"Don't. Bucking. Move."

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Animal Friend - Animals will not attack one of their friends, unless the animal is threatened or attacked first. Exactly what an animal is in this world is open to debate.

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"Don't. Bucking. Move."

Sweetie Belle aimed the weapon directly at the freakish monster, doing her absolute best to sound threatening. Unfortunately, the scratchy squeak of her voice didn't sound very intimidating.

Sweetie Belle, however young, was no idiot; she clearly recognized a weapon when she saw one. When she slipped free from her prison and snatched up the odd tubular thing that her captor had dropped, it took her a matter of moments to discover how it worked. She was rather proud of herself for that, but in hindsight, it looked fairly simple. An easy little cocking lever, along with a trigger mechanism.

She leveled the weapon at the masked creature's head, staring hard into the red bits of glass where the eyes were supposed to be. She couldn't read it's expression, and even though it wasn't speaking like the other one was, that didn't mean it wasn't a threat.

"Don't come any closer!" Sweetie Belle insisted, unable to keep herself from backing away instinctively when it began to come toward her. It might have incapacitated the other monster, but it still could have meant her harm. She brandished the weapon telekinetically in front of her, causing it to hold up two appendages.

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This little idiot.

I didn't really like the position to begin with. I didn't like being woken up when I really could have used some good shuteye, and I was liking this even less.

The poor kid really thought she was threatening; and, in fact, I was kind of scared right then. I'm not going to deny it.

But I would have been a lot more afraid for my own life if she'd been pointing the shotgun in the right direction.

I started inching toward her, hoping that maybe I could get that thing away from the pony before she wound up blowing her face off.

"Don't come any closer!" she shrieked, brandishing the sawed off shotgun more violently. She leveled it directly in front of her face, putting the barrels between her eyes.

Oh, this is not going to end well.

I stood stock still, just freezing mid-stride. This kid was going to wind up blowing her brains out from the panicking; and if there's one thing you never, ever want to do , it's cause an animal to panic. Panic means unpredictability, and unpredictability equals danger. So long as she was dangerous, I was in a bad position.

And overanalyzing things again. Man, that's a bad habit.

Fortunately (or not, in hindsight) for me, Enclave Boy actually started to wake up from all the shouting.

He twitched and groaned, shifting a little. The unicorn's eyes darted over to him, startled.

That was all I needed.

Punching one end of the barrel horizontally and grasping the barrel with my other hand, I shoved the business end of the gun away from the kid's face as fast as I could-

-which was just in time for her to scream when I jumped at her.

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Sweetie had only looked away for a split second.

The metal monster began to rise, and the moment it did so, the bipedal in the red-eyed mask lurched toward her to deprive her of her only means of defense.

Instinctively, she screamed and magically pulled on the trigger just as the thing snatched the weapon…

And pointed it away.

BANG!

The blast from the end was deafening.

Sweetie dropped the gun in fear as the explosion whizzed by her head, burying itself into the sand.

She cringed and tried to scamper back, tripping over her own hooves.

Terrified, Sweetie Belle backpedalled against the outcropping that the masked monster had leapt from, unable to get past him or go any further upwards.

It looked hopeless, and she didn't like her chances of escape. Much to her surprise, however, the masked monster didn't seem to be coming any closer. As a matter of fact, he was… trying to give her the weapon back.

He silently held the weapon out in one hand, gesturing for her to take it. He made several motions with his hands, indicating that one end was very dangerous – which Sweetie Belle had just discovered, coincidentally. Quickly, he popped open the gun and showed her how it was loaded. A couple of cylindrical tubes popped out, and he fished another from his pocket. With a couple of flicks from his fingers, he showed her the safety-locking mechanism on the side, which prevented it from firing unwantedly.

"Um…" Sweetie Began, watching him warily. She hadn't expected him to try teaching her the intricacies of weaponry.

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I swear, I think this kid is a moron.

Most of the time, I don't really care about having my vocal chords slashed. I can't really make any noise.

Well, that's not true. I can make one noise, but it's more like a gurgling, unpleasant sort of death-gargle than anything. Long story short, even though the light regenerative capabilities granted by the radiation help a little with flesh wounds, I can't regrow limbs or major arteries or anything like that.

That also means no vocal chords.

I tried to teach the little unicorn as fast as I could about the thing she'd nearly blown her face off with, and to her credit, she seemed pretty enthralled with it. A little more intrigued than someone who'd nearly had their face blasted off should have been, really. But at least I thought she got the picture.

I tried handing it back to her, crouching down and making myself less big and scary looking. She took it out of my hand slowly, and I watched in amazement while her horn lit up like the lights of New Vegas and the shotgun floated into the air.

I don't care what kind of creature anyone is, telekinesis is fucking awesome.

See, why couldn't my radiation poisoning have given me superpowers, or something? I mean, cool superpowers. Not this Wolverine knockoff garbage. I want to shoot lasers out of my eyes. Now, that is a superpower.

She twirled the gun around in the air for a second, before flicking it open and closed a couple of times. Enclave Boy seemed to have given up trying to stay conscious, but I gave him another kick in the head for good measure.

Just taking safety precautions.

The unicorn looked appalled that I'd kicked him while he was down, and I got another surprise when she actually started talking again.

"Wait, don't do that!" she scolded me, and I was kind of tempted to kick him again just out of spite.

… What? I don't like people telling me what to do.

Or unicorns, for that matter.

In retrospect, I probably could have saved myself and a lot of other people a lot of trouble had I just snapped the guy's neck then and there. Instead, I settled for picking around at the old Pip-Boy he had on one wrist. From the looks of it, I'd say the guy had a couple of surgical implants for instantaneous medical injections; believe me, that ain't cheap.

I was kind of smug, disabling that sucker. It took a couple of minutes, but I put the Pip-Boy back good as… well, actually, he was going to get a big surprise when he woke up. I'll leave it at that.

Instead of curb stomping Tin Man while I was at it, though, I just pointed over at the opened cage.

Believe it or not, she hadn't actually even opened the cage door. She must have used magic or something, because the bars on the opposite side had all been bent away.

… Holy crap, It really took me a minute.

Do you have any idea how weird it is, thinking a sentence like that?

Used. MAGIC.

I shrugged, eventually. Not like there was anything I could say to dissuade her.

I left Enclave Boy in the dirt, and took off at a brisk jog in the same direction I'd been going before I stopped for the night. I wanted to get some good distance before he woke up and found out I'd just robbed him. Really, I thought that the unicorn would go her own way now, but believe it or not, she actually wound up following me.

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Sweetie Belle followed the masked man.

It was silently and stealthily, at first.

She quietly crept along, keeping the shotgun magicked close to her side in case any of the other monsters tried sneaking up on her. However, the masked man occasionally turned around and checked back on her, as if to make sure she was okay. He showed her an odd symbol with his hand, a single thumb extended toward the sky before nodding.

It didn't take long before Sweetie's curiosity grew.

"Hey! Is this the way home?" she asked eventually, trotting in the cool sand alongside him. "Do you know where we are? Is this Saddle Arabia? Who was that monster that kidnapped me? Do you have a weird face under your mask too?"

That last one made him twitch, but he didn't slow down. The masked man scratched the top of his head with a leather gloved hand, head flicking left and right before swiftly sliding down a sand dune and beginning to climb up a short rocky slab. On her left, Sweetie spotted the glint of metal in the dark as what could be recognized as a water pump. There was a bit more vegetation nearby, and from the litter and concrete blocks, she guessed civilization was nearby.

"Are we going the right way? How long until we get there? Do you have any more of these weapons? What do you even need them for? Are there more of those guys from before? Is this part of Equestria? How come it's so dark? It was bright as day a little bit ago. Do you have daytime here? Are we even in Equestria anymore? Are you an alien? I guess you must think I'm an alien – how silly is that! I'm Sweetie Belle, by the way! What's your name? Do you have a name? How come you don't talk?"

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Oh my GOD this was such a bad idea.

This little monster just would not shut up.

The whole damned time, I was trying to be quiet. I tried everything I could to be the embodiment of a freakin' ninja, and this little unicorn just wouldn't stop talking. 'Sweetie Belle', as she called herself, just rambled and rambled. The incessant questions. Is this what my mother went through when I was a kid?

I know she always said that I was more inquisitive than a child should be, and how frustrated she'd get with all the questions. I had no idea it was this awful though and oh god she's still talking!

"Are we near civilization? Is this the way to Ponyville? I guessed there must be some other ponies nearby, because of that water pump back there! Nopony leaves a water pump in the middle of nowhere, right? Pretty smart, huh? Can you tell me where we're going? Are we there yet?"

I swear to god, I will give anything to make this child shut up.

And, of course, no sooner had I thought it that we got ambushed by a pack of vicious, starving giant geckos.

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Swift Learner – You are indeed a swift learner. You earn extra experience and learn at a faster pace.

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Author's Note:

Sometimes, you just aren't lucky.