Chapter 2

Your eyelids open slowly, showing that you have moved from whatever dimly lit dungeon you must have been in before, as you are now in a soft, four-posted bed. The pain was still present in your side but you manage to take a peek around the room, seeing a caramel coated mare in a yellow dress sat toying with her mid-length brown mane at a mirror edged with lights. The strain of moving your neck becomes too much to handle and you pass out again.

Feeling the warmth of sunlight on your face, you wake to find the curtains of this new room open. You can move a little more before the pain instantly throws you back into unconsciousness.

It was night this time, the cool air drifting in through the window and you can see a set of rolling screens similar to the ones cordoning off your sleeping area in the cathouse. A light from behind shows the silhouette of a filly removing a dress and you can see a feather bobbing about over the top of the blinds, obviously in her mane. The dress is then carefully hung on a hanger, hanging over the top of the screens; you notice that it’s yellow like the one the mare you had seen earlier was wearing.

Tearing away from this image (something that being such a sheltered colt you had never really been exposed to) you see a plain white pinafore on a chair, blood coated bandages next to it and a bottle of something brown resting on top. You fall unconscious once more.

This time you dream; putting together things you had seen in your head over what felt like the last day or so. You think about the thugs that had ambushed you... could they have overheard your comments whilst talking to the Sheriff? Or maybe the Captain had sold you out? No, that couldn’t be right. He had been serving the Princesses for years and seemed genuinely angry at what was going on in Appleloosa... what about the rusty coloured stallion who had winked at you? Or could it be the mare that had been in the room those times you had woken up? The image of her undressing floated back into the front of your memory; you knew that your entire race spent a great deal of its time naked, so why was this image so appealing?

You wake up again, this time with something alarmingly heavy on your chest. You manage to tilt your neck to look at it, seeing a mass of brown hair and a slender caramel coloured foreleg, ending in a pedicured yet still slightly rough hoof, stretched over your chest. You hear a gentle snore come from the mass and the thought occurs to you that it must be the mare you had seen the night before.

‘I guess that this isn’t too bad.’ You think, attempting to wriggle a foreleg free. It eventually comes loose and with a slight twinge of pain you manage to pull it from underneath the dozing filly. Unsure what to do next, you simply run your hoof through her mane hoping to wake her gently; she moves her head just slightly up your chest, making it easier for you to stroke her – gentle snores still escaping from the other side of her head. Wriggling a little more, you manage to shuffle further up the bed, now fully awake and aware of the young mare laying on you, realising that you were on the edge of the bed and she was sat in a chair at your side – obviously watching over you and changing your bandages when she was awake.

With her in the way you couldn’t assess your own wound, so you lay there; kind of pleased with your first real physical contact with a filly outside of hoofshakes and hugs from family. It wasn’t so much that you weren’t interested in the opposite gender, more that you had always thought you’d have time for that sort of thing after completing your studies; realising a little too late that outside of the university, you didn’t really know anypony apart from the fillies you had studied with, who had all assumed that you were into other colts, something that had put you permanently in “the friend zone”.

Feeling a little braver, you start to move your head and take a look around the room. You started by looking at your companion; her face still wasn’t visible, but she had a very attractive figure. Her cutie mark was three blue horseshoes arranged in a triangle on the upper middle of her flank.

As you thought about how pretty she must be, her head rolled and you were pleasantly smug about having had your theory confirmed; she was beautiful indeed. Running a hoof around the edge of her face and through her mane, her eyes slowly opened. The shade of blue around her pupils had taken you by surprise at first; it was so bright, so pretty and full of life.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She says in a gentle Appleloosian accent, pulling away from you and sitting properly in the chair. You could see the white pinafore that you remembered from your brief visits to the conscious world tied around her, a light pink smudge on it from where your blood hadn’t completely washed out. Feeling the pressure released, you feel down to your stomach, your hoof meeting a neatly stitched scar near the top. As you touch it, you snort, pain contorting your face. Her eyes widen and she grabs the bottle you had seen in her mouth, tipping a small amount of whiskey into your mouth.

“It’ll help the pain, don’t worry.” She coos after having put the bottle down. You swallow it, checking off another first from your mental list.

“My name is Toffee, can you tell me yours?”

“Where am I? Am I back in the whorehouse? I need the Captain, I think I’ve been stabbed...” you blurt out, panicking. You realise your mistake just as the look of offense reaches Toffee’s face and quickly decide to try and save the bridge you had just set alight,

“You’re my doctor, aren’t you?” you add, seeing the look leave just as soon as it had arrived, replaced with the one of concern that she had when she told you her name.

“No, you’re at my home, we found you next to my pappy’s shop. It looks like Silverstar’s boys took a dislike to you; you’re lucky me and Braeburn found you. Now, Ah know that accent, you’re from Canterlot right?”

“Yes... I’m sorry Toffee, but I really need to find the ponies I came here with, they’re staying at the...” Your words are stopped by a calming yellow hoof placed on your lips.

“You’ve been out for six days sweetheart, you ain’t doing anything.”

“SIX DAYS!?” you yell, “I’m supposed to have been opening negotiations with the buffalo! Oh Celestia, what am I going to do?” You try to get out of the bed, but are pinned down again by Toffee whilst your wound twinges with pain once more.

“Stay down sweetie, my pappy has spoken to your Captain. Somepony else was sent from Canterlot and the negotiations are going... fine. Don’t move too much, you don’t want your stitches ripping again, Sweeney’s busy today.”

“Who?”

“He’s the barber. Serves as a doctor to us folks too, he was the one who patched you up, I’m just supposed to be watching you and keeping your wound clean.”

“You’ve been at my side for six days?”

“Yeah.”

“Th... Thank you. I don’t know what else to say...” She rises and gently places a kiss on your forehead, you get a sniff of her mane as she leaned in; it’s a dry scent, almost like the whiskey she had fed you but without the alcoholic twang that accompanied it.

“You’re sweet; I’ve been hoping that you’d be as nice as you’ve turned out to be.” She says, looking down at you once more, long elegant eyelashes fluttering slightly, “I’ve never really had anypony to care for.”

“Well, I don’t think I would want anyone else looking after me at the moment.” You say, nervously trying your luck. Toffee blushes, little pools of deep pink appearing on her cheeks and she once more places a tiny kiss on your forehead, causing you to melt a little inside.

“You should try and sleep. I’m right here, so don’t worry ‘bout nothin bad happenin’.”
Feeling tired, you place your hoof on hers as she sits by you, slowly falling asleep.

Next Chapter: Chapter 3 Estimated time remaining: 12 Minutes