“Dears, your father and I traveled far and wide across the ruined lands of Equestria and beyond. I have only a few regrets. But one that I find unbearable is knowing that I will not be able to share in your experiences as you travel the world like Dream Chaser and I once did.

The sunset in The Badlands is nearly as beautiful as the snow capped ruins of the great, glittering palace of the ancient Crystal Empire. The sweet smells of life which emanate from The Everfree Forest are worth the hazardous trek through its darkened canopies and then some. To gaze upon the magnificent pink waterfall flowing from beneath the dead city of Canterlot will chill you to the bone, while warming your heart to know that not all tragedies are inescapable.

Everywhere are pockets of civilization, poking up from the ruins of our dead world like weeds in a garden. Ponies and zebras are stubborn, that way. You just have to learn which weeds to pull, and which to leave behind.

But no matter how you deal with those who dwell on the surface, remember this one little fact:

You are the gardeners of your own lives. Cultivate your herbs well, and they will provide for you in your time of need.

…Just don’t try to plant anything in the dry soil outside The Stable. Even my green hoof couldn’t grow anything in that canyon!”

Nohta and I had survived. When the griffin’s ambushed our caravan, the two of us had abandoned the ponies that were depending upon us to flee into the desert. The griffins were either too absorbed in their attack or didn’t have the numbers to give chase. I still wanted to go back and try to save Father and the rest of The Caravan, but he had given us explicit instructions. The Stable was just too important.

We were galloping hard for The Macintosh Hills, trying to find cover from any pursuers that might have come after us. I was nearly out of breath and we were hardly halfway there. Nohta, at least, was able to keep a constant pace. When I started to lag behind, she grabbed the bag of medical supplies and placed them on her own back without a word.

Eventually, I just couldn’t run anymore. My legs were practically numb from exertion, and my breath was catching in my parched throat. I desperately needed a break.

“Noh...” I tried to get my little sister’s attention, “wait... need...”

“I know it’s a long way, Sis, but we need to keep going. Those griffins could be on top of us at any moment!” She turned to look back at The Caravan in the distance, scanning the clouds as she did.

“Can’t... keep pace...” I was exhausted. I had never before been required to run so hard for so long.

Nohta looked over to me, noticed my pitiful state, and acquiesced, “Okay, we’ll take a break as soon as we reach some cover.”

“Thank...” I coughed, stumbled, and nearly fell over. I felt dizzy, lightheaded, and so very, very exhausted.

“Okay, maybe we’ll take a break now.” She let out an exasperated sigh and trotted back to my side, setting our supplies on the ground and allowing me to lean on her for support. “Are you gonna be alright?”

“Don’t... know...” I had opened a bottle of water, and was attempting to take sips between ragged breaths, “just... left them. How...?”

She pulled back her hood and looked me in the eye. “I was asking if you were gonna be able to make it to the hills, Sis. We can worry about everything else later.”

“I... okay.” I was in no state to try and press the issues I wanted to discuss with her, so I simply stopped talking and tried to catch my breath.

Nohta kept a vigilant watch for the duration of our brief respite. My eyes, however, were glued to the pillar of smoke that was rising from the remains of our caravan. The griffins must have set fire to the wagons. The particular pillar of smoke that had my undivided attention was most likely the cart of medical supplies. It was the only one that contained the chemicals necessary to produce the vibrant green hues present in the billowing pillar. That shade of green stuck out like a sore hoof in the reddish-brown desert. The medical supplies cart had been the special charge of Father and myself; and now it was a smoking wreck. What had become of Father?

Father had been outside plenty of times before, I told myself. He knew how to deal with the dangers of the wasteland. Maybe he and Dust could fight the mercenaries off, or perhaps he could broker a truce. Maybe Father would still be able to save everypony in The Caravan!

I knew it was fantasy as soon as the thought crossed my mind. Father was most likely already dead, along with Dust, Spicy Salsa, Cream Puff, Seven Card, and every other pony in the expedition. It was very possible that Nohta and I were going to be the only survivors of the ambush.

I shuddered. Partially from my body’s attempts to draw breath, and partially from the realization that I’d most likely never see Father again. I wanted to cry. Part of me wanted to run back to The Caravan and tell Father that I was still daddy’s little girl. Hold him in my hooves and allow him to stroke my mane. Let him assure me that everything was going to be okay. But I knew that none of that was possible now.

I was the elder sister. I was supposed to be the responsible one. I had to look out for Nohta. I had to be her foundation. Her base. I had to make sure that we both got out of this alive. But, I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d manage all of that. It seemed like a rather daunting task, and I was already faltering, completely winded and having to rely on my sister’s strength to simply stand up.

Taking stock of myself, I couldn’t help but feel rather pathetic, and ashamed. I glanced at my sister. Her eyes were still scanning the horizon and areas just above, watching for threats. But it wasn’t what her eyes were looking at that gave me pause. It was the piercing look of determination mixed with anger in her hard, purple eyes that made me reevaluate our situation.

Nohta wasn’t going to take this lying down. She wouldn’t sit and cry and bemoan her fate like I was on the verge of doing. She was stubborn. She was a fighter. She was like Mother.

I might have taken after Father more than her, but I was still Mother’s daughter as well. If Nohta could find the strength to keep going, then I could too. A cold resolve took hold of me as I found some measure of my own strength. I would not let this be our end. I would not simply roll over and die. I would not let the deaths of so many serve no purpose. I would fight, kicking and screaming if need be, until the life was forced out of my body by means beyond my control. But I would not die now. Not today.

It seemed I would be relying on Nohta’s strength in more ways than one.

I wasn’t really recovered yet, but we had already tarried too long. Nohta was right, the griffins could be on top of us at any moment and we desperately needed to get out of the open and find cover. We set out again, Nohta carrying nearly all of our things this time. The lightened load helped considerably, and we were able to make our way to the more rocky terrain to our south with only minimal delays.

We slid down a steep incline into a small ravine and found a cave cut into the side of the rock. “Noh… This looks…”

My sister’s eyes darted between myself, the sky, and the cave with nervous glances, “Ya, this might work. We gotta get out of sight and lay low for a minute. Let’s go inside and rest. I’ll make sure nothing’s gonna jump out at us.”

The two of us activated our Pipbuck lamps and walked into the opening. The mouth of the cave was small enough to grossly misrepresent the enormity of the chamber which lay inside. The musty smells of fungi and stagnant pools of mineral-rich water emanated from deeper within the cavern. My curiosity begged and pleaded for me to go spelunking, but the rest of me (with special reference to my burning lungs and aching muscles) was content to keep my hooves on the gravelly soil near the entrance and catch my breath.

Nohta dumped our belongings near the mouth of the cave and ventured further. I marvelled at just how quiet she could be. Her hoofsteps made no more noise than the distant drips of water from the stalactites, or the faint breeze that passed through the ravine outside our temporary shelter. With some embarrassment, I realized that my heavy breathing was the noisiest thing within earshot.

I sat on my haunches, my strength completely spent. Nohta was inspecting a faintly glowing stalk of fungus, its blue luminescence bathing her in an eerie glow. Our surroundings had no signs of habitation, and the entrance was well hidden by the walls of the ravine. We were, at the moment, safe.

The events of the last few hours played back through my mind. Chunks of Spicy’s brain and skull flying in all directions, then the screams, the gunfire (it was so loud!), Seven Card’s last moments…

That poor buck hadn’t deserved his fate. If only I had been quicker! That hadn’t been the first time that I had followed another soul to the edge, only to stare death in the face and have it tell me that I couldn’t follow any further, but it had been only marginally easier to deal with than the first. Seven’s death had only served as a reminder for just how painful losing a patient could be. I had to tell myself over and over again that my efforts wouldn’t have mattered either way; the griffins had probably made short work of everypony still alive after Nohta and I had fled, but the fact that I had still failed another patient gnawed at me.

Why hadn’t I thought to use the potion sooner? Why hadn’t I directed Nohta to pinch the artery when I knew I was too weak to hold it in place? Why did I allow his pain to distract me? Why did I hesitate when I knew what needed to be done? I was better than that! I knew that I was! So why hadn’t I been better? How could I have failed so miserably? Was I not the doctor that I believed myself to be?

Before I could fall into a recursive spiral of guilt, doubt, and self-pity, my thoughts drifted towards the rest of the events that had transpired during the ambush; the mare that I had tried to save, only to have her head blown apart, and the griffin that Nohta had fought off. Merciful Luna, Nohta had killed someone!

“Nohta!” I called out to her. She turned away from the fungi that surrounded the stalagmites and trotted over to me as my own voiced echoed off the rock.

“You okay, Sis?” Her countenance was unreadable; hidden underneath her hood. “I know that gallop must have been hard on you, but we should be okay here for a while.”

“Yes, dear, I’m fine. Better now than earlier, anyway. But what about you? Are you okay?”

“Ya, I’m fine. My face is still a little sore from the cut, but other than that I feel alright. Why?” She cocked her head and stared at me.

“I wasn’t talking about how you felt, physically. I’m well aware of how tough you are.” I tried to sound comforting, but I needed to know what she was thinking. “What I meant was, ‘Are you okay with what happened... with the griffin? Are you okay with leaving the rest of the group behind?”

“Ya, I’m good.” She pulled her hood back from her eyes, revealing an icy glare. “Peachy-fucking-keen over here.”

“Nohta...” I began.

My sister quickly averted her eyes, visibly shaking with her rage, “Candy, just… just dont! Okay?” She walked back to the stalagmite, taking ever-deepening breaths as her chest heaved with rage. Upon reaching the fungi-covered formation, she reared up, bracing herself against the slick rock with her front hooves, and screamed. “FUCK! Goddess-damn it, Dad!” She beat her shodden hooves against the stone, working through her emotions as Mother’s horseshoes chipped away at the rock.

My lower lip quivered. I hadn’t seen her so clearly upset in such a long time. How could I quell that anger? “Sister, please… “

Her attacks on the stalagmite came to a slow stop, as she braced her outstretched hooves against the stone and hung her head between her legs. “Look, Sis, I’m not blaming you for anything. I’m just pissed off, okay? Give me a few minutes without trying to pry into my head and then we’ll talk, alright?” She walked over to our belongings, and sifted through our food stores, still huffing.

I knew my little sister better than to attempt to press an issue with her when she was truly upset, so I simply waited as she rummaged through our belongings. She came back with two bottles of water and some Fancy Buck cakes. Setting the cakes and a bottle of water in front of me, she spoke again, “Here, eat something. And try to drink some water too, you’re sweating like crazy.”

“I, uh... yes, of course.” Who was the big sister here?

She lay down in front of me, avoiding my gaze. “We’re okay on water, but we don’t have a lot of food. We might have to scrounge up some fruit or something from the surface plants.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find something along the way.” I wasn’t exactly sure that we could find anything, but I could skip a meal or two if it were absolutely necessary.

“Also,” she continued, looking at the Pipbuck on her right foreleg, “my sonic-thing broke. I’m not sure when it happened.”

The little speaker attached to her Pipbuck was nowhere-to-be-seen. The only sign that anything had been attached at all was some wiring that was dangling out of the port. I still didn’t know what the little devices were supposed to deter, but I reasoned that it was probably something we couldn’t handle on our own.

“Well, we still have one,” I held up my hoof. “we’ll just have to be careful with it.”

She took a drink of her water and stared at her hooves. After a long and fretful moment, she whispered, “Sorry, Sis. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Eager to have the unpleasantness of her anger assuaged, I pressed on, “I know dear, don’t worry about it. But, Nohta, are you okay? I’m grateful that you saved me, but...” I trailed off, both hoping and dreading that she would catch on to what I was talking about.

Nohta, despite popular opinion, wasn’t dumb. She knew exactly what I wanted to discuss, and this time she obliged. She whispered in a defeated voice, lightly shaking her head, “She tried to hurt you, maybe worse. I didn’t even really think about what was going on, I just acted. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” Her eyes rose to meet my own, as anxiety bloomed across her face, “That griffin got what she deserved. I’m not worried about that.”

She continued, speaking at an unsteady pace, “I’m scared, Sis. I’m sorry, I’m just... not sure about all of this. I mean… Dad’s gone. And he told us to run, but... now that we’re actually out here, and he’s… It just feels wrong, doesn’t it?”

I reached out and placed my hoof over her own. She looked up at me, worry etched across her features. I didn’t say anything at first, I just wanted her to know that I was there.

It seemed our roles had been reversed yet again. “It does feel wrong, leaving them like that. But, Nohta, we’re still alive. Okay? Whenever Father ordered us to run, he was trying to keep us safe. And he had to account for all the possibilities as well. If we don’t see anypony from The Caravan in Mareon soon after we get there, we’ll have to inform The Stable that no aid is coming. Hundreds of ponies might be depending on us, and we need to stay strong for them, okay?”

Nohta didn’t say anything. She just lowered her gaze and nodded.

Nohta really wasn’t joking when she said that we were low on food. Neither of us had been carrying much in the way of provisions when the griffins had attacked, and the Fancy Buck Cakes that she had given me represented an entire third of our reserves. If I had known that at the time, I would have forced her to split them with me. We reasoned that we had about a day’s worth of very thinly spread rations left to walk back to Mareon. We’d be hungry, but we would make it so long as we set out soon.

Nohta had calmed down enough to allow me to give her new wound proper treatment, but despite my best efforts, she was left with a scar marring her striped face. She didn’t seem to mind, believing that it made her look, in her words, “tougher, more like a fighter, and,” she added with a nostalgic grin, “more like Mom.”

It took several bottles of water, but I was nearly able to wash Spicy’s blood out of my mane and off of my face. I couldn’t help but spare a moment of quiet reflection as the diluted red poured onto the cave floor. He had said… He had nearly said…

Ugh! Why had all of this happened? Why now? How would things have been different if the two of us had been standing on the other side of the wagon? Would he be here now? Beside me? Consoling my sister and I as the three of us made our way through the desert? Could he really think that… Did he actually mean it?

What would I have done, anyway? I had no experience in those things! What was I supposed to do? Should I have given him a chance? Had he really changed? Was a relationship even something that I was capable of right now?

It was my last thought that brought me back to my predicament. Spicy was dead. There was nothing that I could do for him. No amount of pondering over past events would be able to change the course of my life. At that moment, I had an obligation to my sister. I needed to see us out of this mess. As the last drops of crimson flowed off of my cheeks, I whispered my goodbye to a chance that I knew I’d never be able to regain. The water from the bottles was my saving grace, concealing my tears from Nohta as the clear liquid poured down my visage.

After I had picked a few of the glowing mushrooms for potions, we walked out of the cave and climbed up out of the ravine. We started heading in a very general southwesterly direction, navigating the assorted boulders, shrubs, short trees, and fat little cacti that dotted the hills. I took the occasional opportunity to pick flowers, berries, roots and leaves as I came across them, adding them to my growing collection of alchemical ingredients. With any luck, I reasoned, I could actually make a few useful potions that night. Or at the very least, maybe we’d end up with a salad.

The temperature in the desert had risen by an impressive amount during our short stay in the cave. It, along with the rough and uneven terrain, was impeding our already sluggish progress. My labcoat clung to my body due to my excessive perspiration. I simply could not fathom just how out-of-shape I was compared to Nohta. She was carrying all of our things except for the clothes I was wearing, a couple of health potions I had stashed in the pockets of my lab coat, and my magical laser pistol, and yet she was still moving faster than I was.

I clambered up over the colossal boulder, and had to take another breather. Nohta didn’t complain; she just offered me another bottle of water and kept an eye out for trouble. I drank the water and tried to catch my breath, letting my eyes wander over our current environs.

All around us The Macintosh Hills rose majestically past the horizon. The warm reds and earthy browns rose and dipped, creating fissures and canyons as well as spires and sheer cliff-faces. Tiny brown and grey trees with just a speckling of verdant leaves, as well as short patches of spiky grass, clung obstinately to life amidst the boulders and canyons. The rocky topography was actually quite beautiful in an austere, rugged sort of way. Unfortunately it just didn’t seem to love me back.

I finished the water and got back to my hooves. We really should be going faster, I reasoned, and I was slowing the two of us down. Nohta asked if I was ready. I nodded, and had just started to move when she held a hoof against my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

“Nohta, what-”

“Shh, Sis! Look!” Her eyes were wide, and focused on the sky. I didn’t really need to to track her outstretched hoof to know what she was pointing at, but my eyes followed her simple command on their own.

Tiny black specks were moving in formation through the clouds behind us. Only one thing came to mind as to what they might be.

“It’s the griffins! C’mon, Sis, we gotta go!” She hissed through clenched teeth.

I was already nearing complete exhaustion. How far was this day going to push us?

Nohta and I fled, seeking cover amidst the crevices and overhangs of the rocky terrain, going to ground as if we were tiny animals being chased by large predators. I scuffed a fetlock against the protruding edge of a boulder as I made my way down to the little hidey-hole that my sister had found.

We were bunched up together, literally between a rock and a hard place, and peering out past the boulder at the sky. My leg ached, and I silently wondered if the collision would leave a bruise.

“Nohta, do you-”

“Shh! Sis, they’re right there!”

Sure enough, the clouds above us were doing a sub-par job of concealing our attackers. I caught glimpses of wings and very large weapons being held by talons. Weapons that could surely end both of us in an instant.

The tension was so heavy that I could feel it upon my chest, weighing down my breaths as I struggled against my body’s earlier exertions to control my breathing. I felt as if every ragged inhalation was a small betrayal, sure to alert the griffins to our presence, but found myself incapable of calming my racing heart.

After an agonizing wait, the mercenaries had all made their way southwest, passing the two of us by with no signs that they were aware of our presence. I finally let myself breathe freely in relief.

Nohta was already wriggling out of the confined space, “I think we’re in the clear, Sis.”

I shifted my weight to begin climbing out of the small space, “Thank The Goddess. I believe that you may be right, Nohta. Give me a hoof getting out of this cramped little hole, will you?”

Nohta leapt onto the boulder and held a hoof down to me, disturbing a small pebble from its roost amongst its brothers. The pebble toppled down, thudding and knocking against the walls of the canyon, and crashed into the earth, shattering the thin veneer of rock that lay at the bottom of the canyon and exposing a deep, dark sinkhole below the surface.

I gasped in surprise, “Oh, good heavens! Nohta, be careful! The rain in this area must have eroded the terrain!”

Her tone was incredulous, “I don’t know, Sis, It’s pretty dry out here.” She looked all around us, her expression indifferent, “Do we really need to worry about that?”

I shook my head, dismissing her assumption. “Just because it’s dry now doesn’t mean that it’s always been that way, dear. Long ago, the water flowed freely through this area. The ‘Rock-Farmer’s Almanac’ even suggests that, with a little bit of magical assistance, you might be able to harness the underground flows to help clear away the pesky copper deposits and expose the wild turquoise that lies abundant in the region.” I nodded sagely, remembering one of the many books that Mother and Father had brought back from their adventures. “The evidence is all around us, Nohta, haven’t you been paying attention to the canyons and ravines?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, “Kinda been preoccupied there, Sis.”

I held a hoof to my chin, surveying the foothills of The Macintosh Hills one more time, “Well, judging by these rock formations, I’d venture to say that we are standing amidst plenty of underground sources of water. I’d bet that some of them are probably flowing into the river near Mareon. All of that flowing water has probably left the surrounding terrain in a dangerous state of structural decomposition. There are probably sink-holes, pits, loose shards of rock, and all other manner of nasty little surprises in store for us if we’re not careful.”

“In fact,” I continued, my lecturing skills only just getting ramped up, “I suppose that these foothills are chock-full of them.”

She sighed, probably anticipating the coming lecture, “Really?”

I shifted my weight as I prepared to take Nohta’s hoof and climb out of the hole, “Absolutely. We must use the utmost care as we-”

*CRACK*

The ground beneath our hooves lurched and gave way, sending the two of us tumbling into the darkness below the earth.

Pain pushed all thought out of my mind as I fell against a hard, slanted surface, and bounced into another terrifying moment of free fall in the darkness before impacting with the rock again. And again. And again. I landed on my shoulder, then my back, then at an awkward angle on my legs, then my face. I knew something had broken, my own body had never been in agony like this before!

The horrific descent finally came to an end when I fell into a shallow pool just deep enough to splash around me as I lay splayed on my back against the hard rock of the pit’s floor. Nohta fell beside me with a tremendous grunt of pain and lay panting by my side. A third object fell on my other side against the rocky floor, and I heard glass break as some of the medical supplies shattered within the bag. The intense reek of disinfecting agents cut through the musty odor of our surroundings. I was just hoping that not all of the supplies had been damaged.

I was too afraid to move my Pipbuck leg, so instead I simply spoke towards the darkness where I knew my sister had fallen. “Noh… Nohta, are you okay?”

She groaned in response, “That. Really. Hurt.”

I groaned as well, speaking slowly as I tested my limbs for breaks. “That it most certainly did. Can you move? Is anything broken?”

She strained, but I could hear water dripping out of her coat and back into the pool as she managed to push herself to her hooves, “No, I don’t think so. I’m just…. fuck that hurt! I’m just sore all over.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t use such vulgar language, dear.”

“Pfft, not like anypony’s around to stop me.” She activated her Pipbuck lamp, and the cool-blue light shone in my direction as she looked me over. “Damn, Sis. You don’t look too good.”

I gently prodded my left foreleg, just above my Pipbuck, and hissed as the pain flared in intensity. Broken metacarpal. More careful prodding and poking revealed a severely twisted rear-ankle, several minor lacerations, and a fair amount of bruising.

I spoke through my grimace, “I don’t feel so well, either. I don’t think I can get up. Could you bring me the bag of medical supplies? Do you know what Med-X looks like?”

“That’s the one with the needle and-”

“Yes, yes, that’s the one. Please hurry! This hurts a rather substantial amount, dear!”

“Okay, one second.” Nohta sloshed through the pool beside me, making her way to the bag of supplies on my other side.

As the liquid soaked through my lab-coat, I could feel the coolness washing over my skin. It would have been a welcome reprieve from the heat of the desert, had I not been solely focused on the excruciating pain in my leg.

“Here, Sis.” Nohta offered up the bag, “Do you think most of this stuff is okay?”

My horn flared to life as I enveloped the bag in my magic, “I certainly hope so, that bag of supplies may end up as our only bartering chip out here. And until we reach safety, we desperately need it ourselves.”

I tried to shift to a more comfortable position, but stopped quickly when I only succeeded in exacerbating the pain in my leg. “If we have nothing left with which to trade, the ponies of Mareon may not… even…” Something was moving in the darkness. “Nohta, check your E.F.S.”

“My what?”

“Your Eyes Forward-”

“Oh, right!” She glanced around us, holding her leg aloft to better shine her Pipbuck’s light through the gloom, “One blue bar, I think that’s you, and a few red bars, Sis. That’s all.” Judging by my sister’s relaxed tone, she didn’t realize that we were in danger.

The magic surrounding the bag of medical supplies vanished, sending the bag splashing into the shallow pool as I focused my attention on unholstering my pistol, “Nohta! Red is bad! Red means hostile!”

“Oh. Shit.”

The sound of rocks shifting against each other and splashing into the pool came from my right as I craned my neck to peer into the darkness. The water threatened to submerge my right eye as I turned my head, but I needed to see clearly. Having finally wrested my pistol from its holster, I levitated it to my teeth and shouted, “‘Tay back! I haff a gun!”

Low growling and light yips and barks answered as several shadows moved in unison. The red and blue lights of my horn and Nohta’s Pipbuck died a few yards away from us, and we were unable to peer into the gloom beyond our little island of light.

I lay sprawled on my back in a shallow pool of what I could only hope was water. Only two of my limbs were functional beyond simply throbbing with pain. I could feel tiny rivulets of blood coursing down my face, tickling the hairs of my muzzle before dripping from my lips to introduce the taste of copper to my tongue. I was attempting to aim my magical laser pistol with my teeth in order to keep my magic free, but that only meant that my already awful aim was compromised even further. I was in a rather sad state.

I knew that, whatever might be in the darkness, I had a better chance of seeing us both through this if I could stand up. But for that, I’d need a little help. It’s surprising just how much aid is offered by the judicious application of a powerful painkiller such as Med-X.

Using my magic, I tugged on the bag of supplies and sent a portion of its contents scattering into the pool. Picking out a familiar-looking syringe, I levitated it into the air and removed the cap that kept the needle sterile. As I jammed the little needle through the skin near my Pipbuck, I felt a moment’s trepidation. Med-X was highly addictive. And the pains of withdrawals were nothing to scoff at. I had felt, through my magic, just what sort of agony I was in for if I had to deal with an addiction. Should I even-

Warm waves ebbed over my body as the pain first dulled, then died completely. Suddenly my predicament didn’t seem so bad. Why was I so worried? It’s just a few spooky shadows. Who cares?

Don’t worry about it, I told myself. You can deal with any bad stuff, like addiction, later. Get out of this mess first, and deal with whatever happens when it happens. Just keep Nohta and yourself alive.

I rose to my hooves, being careful not to place too much weight on my Pipbuck-leg. Levitating my pistol out of my mouth and pointing it at the shadows, I steeled myself against whatever monstrosity may lay in wait.

Three very small coyotes splashed into view, barking and leaping over each other while occasionally nipping at each other’s ears. They were playing. They were puppies. I sighed in relief. Puppies weren’t anything to worry about. Right?

Nohta walked in between the animals and myself. “Oh my gosh! Hey! Check it out, Sis. What are these little… dog-things? They’re sooo cute!”

I coughed, smirking.

Her whole body visibly stiffened, “Uh. I mean… They’re cool. Ya. They look like they could be useful in a fight, or something. Maybe we should see if we can keep one…”

My voice came out clear, but my whole body felt sluggish, and weak. “Nohta, be careful!. Those are the young ones. The adults are-” My warning was too late.

Nohta had reached out to pet one of the little animals, just as the growling beyond the darkness reached a crescendo, and one of the adults leaped onto her shoulders. It sank its teeth into the hood of her cloak as another adult rushed out of the dark and clamped its jaws around her outstretched hoof.

“Ow! Fuck!” She backpedaled, thrashing wildly in an attempt to remove her assailants.

Two more coyotes had circled off to both of my sides, and chose that time to lunge at my sister as well. I panicked, and activated my S.A.T.S.

Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell. Father had made mention of the spell before, but I had never used it. He had always stressed the necessity of learning how to fight without the use of a spell. After continually missing shot after shot during Father’s horrible “Practice Sessions” in The Stable’s canyon, I found that to be a rather silly assertion. When else was I guaranteed a seventy-six percent chance to place an energy blast where I wanted it?

The secondary benefit of S.A.T.S. made itself immediately clear to my panic-stricken mind. I had time to think. The spell had slowed time to a crawl, or at least my perception of time had slowed. It was allowing me the luxury of freely picking my targets, judging the likelihood that I would hit (or miss) each of them. It also provided an intriguing glimpse into just how much damage it could be expected that my attack might render unto my targets. I’d have to be careful with this spell, however; Nohta was one of those available targets.

Needless to say, I was impressed. The ponies of the past had certainly created some amazing things. It took me a moment to realize that I should probably get on with using this technology, as opposed to just marveling over its possible applications. I assessed the situation, and queued up a salvo at what I judged to be my best targets.

As I released the spell, I felt odd. It was like an invisible force took hold of my body as the world sped back up to nearly the speed of reality, and my horn and limbs acted of their own accord. In this case, my magic floated the pistol in front of me, whipping the weapon into position moments before activating the trigger bit and sending a burst of brilliant crimson lancing towards the adult beast that was assaulting Nohta’s hood.

Flames bloomed on the creature’s shoulder as the concentrated points of heat ignited the coyote’s coat and burned deep wounds into its body. The air was filled with the repugnant stench of burning fur and charred flesh as the creature let out a terrified yelp and fell into the pool at Nohta’s side.

In this slow-motion state of only-slightly-controlled chaos, I witnessed my sister pull her injured hoof down to the pool, dragging her other assailant’s head with it, as her other foreleg came crashing down on the soft part of the coyote’s neck. Her hoof was released from the grip of the beast’s maw a moment later, as the pool of water was made murky with blood.

S.A.T.S. wasn’t done. My body turned as the spell assisted my actions, moving far faster and with more precision than I could have possibly managed alone, leaving me facing the creature behind my sister. To my surprise, even my face was contorting into a determined and angry grimace as the pistol floated between myself and the lunging beast. The first shot missed entirely, briefly illuminating the wall that formed the perimeter of our pit as the magical energy burned and dissipated into the rock. My final shot, however…

Light sprang from the end of the pistol as the crimson beam connected with my target’s eye. The eye itself ruptured, charred, burned away, and was completely destroyed before the entire creature took on a bright, pink glow. Before S.A.T.S. relinquished its hold over me, the animal was vaporized; its ashes scattering to cloud the pool of water at our hooves.

Nohta, and the rest of the world, returned to a normal pace as the final adult recognized the threat that I posed. It changed tactics, leaping to assault my shoulder. A very dull pain, really just a minor annoyance, creeped across my senses as the beast ripped part of my labcoat away and made to tear my throat out.

Nohta tackled the creature, pinning its head underneath the shallow pool as she used her weight to ensure it couldn’t move. Bubbles jostled the surface of the pool as the creature finally ceased to struggle, and lay still.

She moved to me, “Sis! You’re bleeding!” She glanced at our supplies as she cursed again, “Shit! Use a potion or… do something!”

I glanced down at my left shoulder, “Oh. Look at that. I am bleeding.” Red had seeped out to stain my labcoat where the coyote had bitten me. “Med-X really does the trick…”

She poked me in the chest with a hoof, “Oh no you don’t! No more chems! Just grab a healing potion or something and get yourself fixed up. And hurry! I’m worried about more of them coming after us.”

“Nohta, I can’t use a potion with my metacarpal broken in three places.” I explained calmly and with only a little slurring, my head dipping slightly as I mused over how difficult blinking both eyelids in synchronization actually was. “The bone would set the wrong way, sister. I’ll need a moment to use my magic, dear. Just… “ the pain was coming back, seemingly worse than before. “Just give me a minute. It’s proving rather hard to concentrate right now.”

Sitting down in a relatively dry spot, I raised my good leg to my temple and tried to rub the bleary haze of my thoughts into order, “Could you fetch me the bag of supplies? I may not have the strength to mend our cuts and bruises after I set my broken bone.”

“Ya, sure.” She set off to retrieve the bag, and I turned my attention toward my broken leg.

I should note that, up until that day, I had never sustained a major injury, and so I had never had cause to implement my talent upon myself in such a manner. So when I turned my magic inward, on my own body, I was not expecting the overwhelming sensation of vertigo that I experienced. I also wasn’t expecting to fall over and vomit, but that didn’t stop it from happening either.

“Oh shit! Sis, are you okay?” Nohta had abandoned the bag and was standing over me, eyes wide.

Coughing up bile, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. “Gracious! I’ve certainly never done that before!” I wiped my good hoof across my muzzle, frowning in disgust at the mess.

“What happened?” She was holding her hoof to my head, apparently inspecting me for a fever.

“I was attempting to use my talent in order to heal my leg. It felt… weird.” Did everyone experience that sensation when I healed them? Nohta had never complained of any nausea… and wouldn’t I have felt it if she had? Was it just me?

“Weird enough to make you throw up?” She glanced at the puddle of vomit, frowning.

“Evidently so. Give me a minute, I think I’ll be okay.” Waving her off, I levitated a bottle of water to myself, and sipped on it. Perhaps the lingering nausea had just been a delayed side-effect of the Med-X?

I tried to heal myself again in a few minutes, concentrating only on the part of my leg that I needed to mend. I still felt a little queasy, but I didn’t throw up again. The feeling of actually mending the bone was odd. It was as if I were wearing myself, on myself, and then I took myself off, and rearranged myself, to better fit myself. Like a coat. Or a boot in this case, seeing as how it was my leg.

Nohta hauled the bag of supplies in my direction. “Couldn’t you just, you know, heal an injury without using your special spell?”

“Nohta, my talent doesn’t just let me know what’s wrong, it helps to focus my attention towards exactly how to help the patient and boosts the potency of my other spells.” I scoured my flustered mind for a useful analogy, “Without my talent, trying to mend a bone would be like a maintenance pony trying to fix a generator whilst blindfolded and using… using… that thing that you hit things with...”

Her brow rose sharply, “A hammer?”

I nodded, jabbing a hoof in her direction, “That.”

Real worry seeped into her voice, “Are you okay, Sis?”

I tried to play it off as a joke, forcing a weak smile across my lips. “Please, Nohta, never let me take Med-X again unless it’s a dire emge… emeren… really important.”

She sat the bag at my hooves and dug through the bag’s contents. I could just detect the faintest smirk on her muzzle. At least my efforts had allayed her fears. “Well… if you can’t really use it on yourself, what are we gonna do if you get hurt later?”

I accepted the healing potion which she had obtained from the bag and sipped. Were healing potions supposed to taste like grapes? “As long as things are calm enough that I might be allowed to concentrate, I believe I’ll be okay. I’ll just have to be meticulous in my application of the spell, and focus only on the area in which it is needed. Otherwise… “ Dear Goddess, this potion was delicious! “Well, let’s just assume that I won’t be able to fix broken bones in the middle of a fight.” The feeling of my various bruises, scrapes, cuts, and other small injuries healing themselves felt like somepony had taken a warm rag and massaged it into my tissue. The pains of my body simply faded away, to be replaced with a deep sense of relaxation and comfort.

My eyes widened as I inspected the glass container in my hooves. “By The Moon… Nohta what did you give me?”

She arched an eyebrow, “Uh, healing potions are purple, right?”

I levitated the small jar over my head, taking care to keep the rest of its contents from spilling as I inspected the underside of the bottle, and found a piece of white tape on the bottom of the jar. The letters “S.W.” were written on the tape in black ink. “Nohta… I think this is one of Mother’s potions.”

She scrambled to my side, sending the light of her Pipbuck flashing against the cave walls. “No way! Really? How’d it keep for so long?”

I showed her the tape. “S.W. I think it means Sweet Water. Mother’s book has the recipe for it. And regular healing potions don’t really go bad unless they’ve become contaminated by an outside source.” I couldn’t suppress a small grin, “Why would one of Mother’s?”

“Heh, guess you’re right. I didn’t think that any of Mom’s stuff was still around. I figured that all of the ponies in The Stable had used them up.” She grinned, facing me, but the grin quickly faltered as her words left her mouth, “Hey, I bet Dad… kept some of them for himself.”

As she had turned to face me, her Pipbuck lamp had illuminated the darkened corner of the cave. Within that space lay a large object covered in tattered rags. Hoping to distract my sister from her troubled thoughts for a moment, I pointed my good hoof at it, “Nohta, what is that?”

She turned, and walked over to inspect the lump. “Oh… fuck! Sis, it’s a pony.”

I realized then why the creatures had been so willing to attack us. It hadn’t been to protect their young, as I had assumed. They had been feeding on the body of some hapless adventurer.

Nohta, ever the pragmatist, noticed an opportunity. “Hey, look! His saddlebags are alright. We should take his stuff!”

“Nohta!” I spluttered, nearly doing a spit-take with the precious liquid.

She huffed, “It’s not like he needs it. And guess who probably does?”

I sighed, she did have a point. We were woefully unprepared for what lay ahead of us. “Fine. Just be respectful about your… replenishment of our supplies.”

She was already rummaging through the deceased buck’s things, “Hmm… Damn. No guns or anything. No food either. No caps… this guy was a real deadbeat, huh?”

“Nohta! That is the opposite of respectful!” Even Mother’s potion couldn’t hold back the imminent headache, “That’s… That’s… Not respectful at all!”

She cheered up, and her tail swished underneath of her cloak, “Oh, hello! I take it back big guy, you were alright after all.”

“Did you… find anything useful?”

“A nice knife… ” She tossed the sheathed blade at my hooves, where it fell with a heavy *thud* against the rocky floor of the cavern. The heavy steel blade slid partially out of its sheath, revealing a nicked and scratched curved edge opposite a similarly worn serrated edge. Despite its well-used appearance, the notches cut into the sheath left little doubt as to its effectiveness in combat.

“Practical.” I nudged the knife to the side and awaited the rest of Nohta’s scavenge.

“A couple of old porno mags… ” She tossed three magazines onto the ground before me, alongside the knife. ‘Wingboners: Issue 68,’ read the outside cover of one of them. Another of them fell open to reveal a… well I’m sure you’re not interested in that.

Wait. Seriously? You are?

One of them fell open to reveal an undeniably beautiful butter-yellow pegasus mare with a gorgeous pink mane. Her face wore an expression of pure ecstasy, which had forced her eyes shut in its rapturous hold. Her hooves were wrapped lovingly around the long, hard object in front of her whilst it splashed her outstretched tongue with the milky-white liquid emanating from its tip. Dear goddess… At that point in time, I would have given nearly anything to trade places with that mare.

“New, limited-edition Sparkle-Cola Frost. Expertly-mixed using our signature Sparkle-Cola formula, with only pure Cloudsdale snow, the finest Stalliongrad vodka, and just a hint of refreshing mint. Magically enhanced to stay ice-cold, no matter what! Five bits from every purchase goes towards helping the orphans of the war. Sparkle-Cola Frost. Get frosted!” The advertisement certainly had my attention! It was really too bad that it had to languish within such a seedy periodical for all eternity.

“What was that, Sis? You think we can get anything for the magazines?”

I blushed, mindful of the contents of the pages before me and thankful that Nohta was still preoccupied with her scavenging. I used my good hoof to shove the magazines towards the knife, “Ugh! I’m sure… someone… might want these.”

After a few more minutes of rifling through his pockets and satchels, Nohta produced the real prize which lay in the deceased buck’s inventory. “Awesome! Check it out!” She turned to me with an excited grin on her face, holding up two small objects. They appeared similar to apples, but were very plainly comprised of metal.

“Uh, what are they, Nohta?” I had never before seen anything like them.

“I think they’re grenades!” Her grin got bigger.

I backed up, trying to distance myself from the little balls of death. “Grenades? Grenades explode! Put those down!”

“I think they’re safe as long as the pin is still in them.” She pointed to the little piece that was poking out of the top of the apple-shaped device. “You have to yank that part out to arm it, then it blows up in a few seconds.”

I stared at my sister, unbelieving of her recklessness. “You ‘think’ they’re safe?”

She stubbornly defended her position. “Well… that’s what Dust said. And he knew what he was talking about.”

Dust. Another of the ponies that had been depending upon us. I hadn’t even spared a thought as to my sister’s feelings regarding Dust. How could I have been so callous? Nohta had been forming her first real bond with somepony outside of her family and the two of us had abandoned him. What must that have done to her? Would she come to resent Father and myself for taking her away from her new role-model?

Ugh! What was wrong with me? There was nothing that I could do for him now! And nothing I could do to alter the past. This was not the time to dwell on it, I told myself. At least not where I was liable to break down in tears in front of Nohta. No. No, just get Nohta to safety. That’s all that matters right now. Worry about yourself and your own feelings later.

Goddess, if only it could be so easy... Keeping Nohta out of harm’s way is patently impossible. Still, I needed to try.

Perhaps I could bring her to see reason? “Nohta, I’m not sure if carrying around centuries-old explosive ordinance is a good idea! What if they should detonate as we’re holding them in our packs?”

She shrugged, “They lasted this long without blowing up… And this guy obviously got into a fight or two. But he didn’t get exploded… he got eaten.”

Sighing in exasperation, she pleaded with me, “Look, Candy, we’ve got next to no weapons. We need something big that we can use to scare folks off.”

I still couldn’t help but feel frightened of the explosives, “Nohta, I’m not sure.”

She stuffed a grenade into her bags, heedless of my worries. “Hey, if nothing else, these are worth a lot of caps. Ponies go nuts over these things.” Looking me in the eye with an earnest expression, she added, “We could use the caps, Sis.”

She had too many good points to argue against. I relented. “Well, I suppose we can hold onto them for now. But only if you are sure that they are safe!” I watched as she slid one of the grenades into my packs, next to Mother’s alchemy set. Pushing my worry aside, I concentrated on our next immediate problem. “Come along, dear, we need to find a way out of this pit.”

After squeezing through a few damp passageways and navigating some precarious tunnels, Nohta and I found the cavern’s entrance. After seeing how dark it had become outside, the two of us decided to spend the night in the cave. I changed into my spare lab-coat and tried to make a pillow out of the tattered remains of the one that I had been wearing. Nohta and I slept, huddled together for warmth beside Mother’s fire talisman, on the rock floor.

My rest was fitful, and filled with horrid dreams. Wings fluttering beyond sight in the shadows. Claws and beaks scratching and pecking at my eyes as I scurried through the halls of The Stable. I woke, and adjusted my aching leg. A hallway of mirrors. An infinitely reflected image of myself staring back at me before the reflections all shrieked in an awful, discordant symphony of anguish and terror, leaving me to whimper on the floor. Nohta rolled over in her sleep, waking me. I lay my head down again, next to her’s. The Caravan. Seven Card lying beside me, beckoning me to follow him just a little further into the void. Cream Puff, bleeding out of her eye-sockets as she glared at me, asking why I left her to die. Father. Father telling me to run. Father telling me that it’s going to be okay, telling me that all that mattered to him were his daughters, telling me that he would be fine. But I knew better. I knew what would happen to him as soon as I turned my tail and fled. When Nohta woke me again, burying her muzzle in my neck as she slept, I held her a little more tightly, afraid to let her go.

When the morning finally came we emerged from the cave, happy to abandon the gloomy depths of cold, clammy rock, and walked out into the brisk air of the desert. The sun had just begun its futile attempts to pierce the clouds, and the ambient temperature of the valley in which we found ourselves was still quite cool. After quickly checking our orientation and general position, we set off for Mareon with all due haste, ready to begin the arduous process of traversing the myriad boulders, ravines, valleys, and other various desert obstacles.

Occasionally, the rusted remains of an old motor-wagon or abandoned campsite would serve to break through the illusion that we existed in a pristinely primitive vacuum, devoid of other inhabitants. Unfortunately for my sister and I, none of the wrecks or camps held anything of value. Other scavengers had picked those bones clean long before the two of us had arrived.

My leg was still giving an intermittent twinge, occasionally causing me to stumble as pain lanced past my Pipbuck, but it was nothing so burdensome as to force me to stop completely. I was more concerned with our lack of supplies. My leg wasn’t going to re-break itself anytime soon, but even the mere thought of starving to death was enough to send shivers down my spine and push my legs to keep moving. I promised myself that if I ever wrote a book like Mother’s, one of the lessons I’d include would be: “Don’t begrudge others their actions when they allow their belly to think for them; hunger is a powerful motivator.”

It was, perhaps, a mistake to finish off our stores of food so early in the morning. As the day dragged on, the lack of sustenance was taking its toll on me. I was exhausted, irritable, felt the stirrings of a significant headache coming on, and was beginning to entertain the notion that my poor stomach might actually be capable of mutiny.

Nohta was still soldiering on. If she had complaints about our situation, she never voiced them. In fact she hardly said anything at all, only speaking to alert me to the presence of possible sources of food, or other scavenge. Given that we had only passed a hoof-full of said sites, the conversation was rather lacking.

I silently worried about my sister’s emotional state. Her nature was that of a loner, but she had never been so quiet around me. I chose not to push her into a conversation, hoping that she would open back up to me when she was ready.

My mind was left with time to wander. With the course of recent events and the predicament in which we now found ourselves, it probably comes as no surprise that my thoughts were dominated by two topics.

One: Survival. Or rather, to be more direct and to-the-point about it, food. I was inspecting every single shrub, cactus, tree, grass, weed, and every other bit of dry vegetation with an eye every bit as scrutinizing as the one that I employed for delicate operations in The Stable’s clinic. But hardly any of it was edible. And of that which was, the nutritional value was assuredly so poor as to more likely be detrimental to our survival, especially after one factored in the background radiation inherent within many of the species of desert flora after the war. And on that cheery note…

Two: the ambush of my caravan. Mother and Father’s stories had told tales of groups within the wasteland. Groups which banded together to assure that they might be afforded the opportunity to continue living their amoral lives.

Foremost amongst these degenerates were the brutes known as ‘raiders.’ Little more than savages, they would attack anything and everything that moved, often with blatant disregard for the safety of their comrades, or even their own safety. But raiders had not attacked my caravan.

Also high on the list of those to be avoided were the slavers. As if the equine races of the world killing each other over scraps of food wasn’t capable of generating enough misery, we somehow had the nerve to posit the idea that we should start enslaving each other! But slavers would at least try to keep their quarry alive, even if only for a profit. I hardly believed that slavers would use such indiscriminate means of violence as the explosive weaponry employed in the ambush to subdue their potential slaves. Slavers had not been the ones to attack my caravan.

Mercenaries. Mother and Father’s accounts of the wasteland had only said enough about mercenaries to let me know that they were complete wildcards. They were sometimes a force for good; cashing in on the lucrative business of escorting trading caravans, or possibly ridding old ruins of wild creatures or raiders. However, they were just as likely to commit terrible atrocities in the name of personal monetary gain.

But no matter what, mercenaries always had one thing in common: the job. And the ambush of my caravan had been conducted by griffin mercenaries. Somepony had offered them a job. Somepony had wanted us dead. Somepony had been willing to pay for that to happen.

And who was the only group that we had come into contact with since leaving The Stable? Where did Father want us to wait? Where was I now dreading equally as much as I was hoping that we would be allowed to enter?

Mareon.

The night was closing in on us, just barely being held at bay by my Pipbuck lamp. Nohta was refusing to activate her own lamp and fussing about my own, citing a need for ‘stealthy tactics.’ But I knew that we really didn’t want to get caught out in the open in complete darkness, and my Pipbuck was informing me that we were agonizingly close to Mareon. When we crested that last hill, and the expansive, rusted walls of our destination came peeking into view past a pair of short mesquite trees, I sighed in relief.

We had persevered, over the course of the entire day, and had finally gotten within eyesight of the town. Neon lights adorning storefronts within the town, as well as lamps which hung from the shacks and guard posts near the entrance, perforated the darkness. From our vantage point, we could see the layout of the entire settlement, from the hills underneath our hooves all the way out to the river of dubious designation.

Noha pushed past a low-hanging branch, “Heh. It’s actually kinda pretty.”

“That it is, dear. I’m certainly glad that our little hiking trip has come to an end. I am positively famished!” I absentmindedly plucked the bean pods from the branches of the trees as we continued to gaze at the town beneath us.

“You’re not the only one, Sis. Can we get a move on? We still have to find some food and a place to stay once we get inside the town.”

“Well, then. No point in any further delay! After you, dear-” The crack of gunfire, followed by distant screams, silenced me.

There was an explosion in the night, maybe a few hundred feet away from the northern gates of Mareon. More gunshots rang out from that direction, but it was too far away and too dark to make out what was going on.

Nohta groaned, “Ugh! What now?” She crept forward, trotting down the hill with an easy gait that allowed gravity to work in her favor.

“Nohta! Wait up!” My own attempts at navigating the loose, rocky soil of the hill were met with sub-par results, and I was having trouble maneuvering my three good legs down the incline without slipping.

Of course, I sped up a great deal whenever I finally lost my balance, overcompensated, flipped over, and slid down the hill on my back.

“Aaah! Nohta! Look out!”

“Wha-” My sister glanced behind her just in time for the two of us to collide, knocking her legs out from underneath of her and sending us both crashing noisily to the base of the hill.

A cloud of dust had amassed in the wake of our descent, and hung in the air all around us, blurring our vision as the light of my Pipbuck diffused into the particulate.

I covered my muzzle with a hoof, trying to dissuade my body from sneezing, while extricating myself from the tumbled mess of limbs that my sister and I had become. “Er, my apologies, Nohta. I slipped.”

She rose to her hooves as the dust settled around us, brushing the dirt off of her cloak, “Eh, whatever. Are you hurt?”

“No, dear, I’m-”

The report of a gun, this time much closer, cried out from the darkness as the ground between Nohta and myself jumped. A great clod of earth leapt free from the rest of the ground as the bullet punched into the soil. I gasped and fell backwards onto my haunches, as Nohta dropped into a combat stance and dove to the side.

Wild, manic laughter erupted from the darkness as the filthy forms of two unicorns and three earth ponies trotted into the light of my Pipbuck. The majority of them were clad in makeshift armor comprised of what appeared to be various pieces of scavenged scrap. One of the unicorns was levitating a crude club made of rebar and concrete in front of her, while the other held a long rifle in his grasp. It was pointed right at my head.

The crimson stallion with the rifle was in good spirits, “Ha! Told you guys! That’s a Pipbuck lamp. We got some stragglers over here!” His blazing eyes flashed with malicious delight, “Hot damn, I might even get a round in The Funbox for spotting ‘em!” His armor, alone amongst his party, actually looked like armor. He wore grey metal plates and tubing that had been welded together, complete with a nasty-looking set of spikes jutting out from his shoulders.

I heard my little sister swear under her breath. To my side, Nohta was also being held at gunpoint. One of the earth ponies, this one dark brown and wearing a large, bent traffic sign fashioned as a chest plate, was staring her down with a crazed look in his eye and a large revolver in his mouth.

A smaller yellow stallion wearing a rusty pot on his head was twitching and grinning with excitement at Nohta. “Shoot her. Come on, shoot her. Shoot! Shootshootherohfuckinggoddessesjustshoot!”

The final earth pony, this one a light-green mare wearing nothing but the shackles on her forelegs, scowled at the twitching buck but stayed quiet.

The smaller buck looked back to her, and in a fit of screaming giggles, he asked, “What do you think, Mutey? Think we can have some meat tonight?”

She glared at him for a moment, then sat on her haunches and looked to the sky. Her face bore the unmistakable expression of the incredibly desperate as her eyes darted to and fro amongst the blackened clouds.

Ms. Rebar-And-Concrete-Club stepped forward, clad in a mishmash of pre-war sports apparel that just barely covered her ivory coat, and spoke in a surprisingly articulate voice, “Forgive our… associates.” Both she and the other unicorn took a moment to glower at the earth ponies. “The Pyro’s… group… were not overly burdened with a great deal of intelligence, nor an impressive sense of hospitality.”

“My name,” She continued, with a small flourish of her club, “is Powder. And on behalf of the Farseer herself, I’d like to take this opportunity to-”

The unicorn with the rifle tapped his hoof against the ground with a distinct air of impatience, “Oh, for crying out loud! We’re supposed to kill ‘em, right? Those are the orders: Get to Mareon. Kill everypony you see that’s not part of the gang and doesn’t want to join up. Simple. And now that it’s all gone to shit, we should just gun ‘em down and keep running. Why are you still talking?”

Powder stuck her nose in the air, sending her golden mane cascading down her shoulders. “That may be how The Outcast’s ruffians handle things, Bolt-Action, but those of us who follow The Bard like to take a different approach. Hmph!” With a little pout, she swung her club overtop of him and gently bopped him on the poll of his head.

Of course, being ‘gently bopped’ with about fifty pounds of concrete and steel would probably be sufficient to smack some sense into anypony.

He shut his eyes, rubbing the top of his head and hissing in pain. “Bah! Ow, you bitch!” He turned to her, his eyes seething, “You are so fucking lucky that I can’t kill you right now!”

Powder chuckled, swishing her tail across his muzzle, “Oh come off it, darling! I’ll help you work off some of that anger and frustration later if you just let me do the talking. Now does that sound fair to you, Bolt?”

He sighed, holding his face in a hoof as he lowered his rifle. “I’m not sure sex is worth this hassle.”

Powder rolled her eyes and spoke to nopony in particular, “Need I remind you that it is impolite for a lady to spit?”

He blinked several times, apparently ruminating over her last words, and finally squinted his eyes and acquiesced, “Fine. You give ‘em the speech.” He turned around, muttering under his breath, “Fucking mare… Using my weakness against me… “

Neither of the unicorns were paying attention. The briefest, faintest flash of red from my horn unlatched the strap holding my pistol in place. None of the raiders had noticed the magic. I grit my teeth, silently thanked Luna for the small blessing, and tried to figure out what to do.

I had never desired this. To be put in this position was agonizing. I didn’t want to hurt them. I didn’t care that these ponies were raiders! Evil for the sake of evil was just a fairy-tale, right? Perhaps they could be swayed? Surely they had to have a reason for their actions. Surely there had to be some good in these ponies!

There’s good in all of us, isn’t there? Isn’t it worth saving?

No. I wouldn’t expect you to agree with me. Not yet. I’ll have to show you a great deal more of the insanity of this world before my words will truly have impact.

I quickly assessed my situation. I had, at best, the ability to incapacitate or kill (Luna help me… but I actually viewed that as a good thing) one of our assailants before the other three could retaliate. If I attacked the crimson buck with the rifle, I’d ensure my own safety, and be free to harass the other three with magical energy beams until… no, no. That wouldn’t work. I’d just muck things up.

I could attack the buck holding my sister at gunpoint. That would allow her to close into melee range and do what she does best. But, three on one… and that rifle was still hovering in the air…

I examined the raider’s weapons with a more discerning eye. The revolver looked shiny; polished, even. The rifle, by comparison, looked like a hodgepodge of everything but the kitchen sink. I wasn’t exactly an expert on firearms, but I was pretty sure that anything being held together by duct-tape was of less-than-stellar quality. If I had to do this, then my sister and I would be better off with the revolver out of the equation. Or maybe…

Maybe I was looking at this the wrong way? The entire group seemed to be following the white unicorn known as Powder. Or at least, they were willing to allow her to talk to us before things got out-of-hoof. And she had seemed at least somewhat amicable. Not precisely what I would call a ‘Lady,’ but still, not outwardly offensive. Maybe I could talk us out of this mess?

Not likely, but it was worth a shot, right?

Powder refocused her attention towards Nohta and myself, “Ahh, good. Now as I was saying, on behalf of She-Who-Sees, I’d like to offer the two of you a grand opportunity to enter the exciting world of professional raiding!”

Her eyes lit up, “Our darling leader wishes to acquire the help of the whole region, in order to stand up to the monster known as,” She paused, grimacing, as if she had to force the name out. “Red-Eye.”

After taking a moment to recollect herself, she continued in her previously cheery demeanor, “Raiding is quite the lovely little venture, you know! Not at all like what most wasteland scoundrels would have you believe. You get to meet all sorts of ponies! And travel to exotic locales! Oh, and how could I forget? Sample exquisite cuisine! And all of this is yours for the low, low price of complete and total subservience to the mare who’s going to be running the whole show within a few months anyway! Might as well get in on her good side while you can! What do you say?” She leaned in and smiled expectantly.

Throughout this entire debacle I had remained silent. First from fear. Then from surprise. And finally, out of necessity while I tried to plan our escape. But now?

Now I was just confused, “I… What?”

Powder sniffed, “Oh, Dolt-Action, you’ve succeeded in once more,finding a set of complete-and-utter buffoons.” She sighed, looking me over, “Why do the pretty ones always have to be such vapid imbeciles?”

I bristled at the remark, clearly having my priorities in the right order, and threw the option of negotiation right out the proverbial window. My horn flared to life as I gripped my pistol. I knew just who to target now! “Vapid! Imbecile! Why, of all the-”

My tirade was cut short by a small object, which fell from the heavens with a hollow, plastic thud against the earth between the raiders and myself. Seven sets of eyes stared at the tiny thing as if it were the most important empty inhaler of Dash the world had ever seen. The light-green mare smirked.

That was as much warning as anypony got. A blue blur descended between the twitching buck and the stallion holding my sister at gunpoint, flaring her indigo wings so as to rake her feathers against the buck’s sides, and slammed into the ground with a thunderous crash as she planted all four hooves into the earth. Blood erupted out of the raider’s torsos, splashing her wild, silvery-white mane with red, before she pivoted to the side and smashed her back hooves into the twitcher. He flew with an impressive speed, for an earth pony, and cackled wildly as his body tumbled and rolled, causing his intestines to snake out of his sliced belly like worms trying to escape wet soil. He only stopped laughing when his red blip disappeared from my E.F.S.

The other earth buck grunted in pain, dropping his pistol. “Oh, shit! It’s Li-” He managed to shout half of a warning to his comrades, before the pegasus snorted, twirling her body around, and brought one of her wings up underneath his jaw, neatly separating his head from his neck. His dull, lifeless face fell to the ground with an equally dull thud, leaving his tongue to loll free out of his mouth.

Powder and Bolt-Action turned, but too late, as the pegasus drew a revolver from the holster on her shoulder, and popped off three shots in rapid succession while using the decapitated pony’s body as a shield. The first entered Powder’s throat, creating an entry wound about the size of a bottle cap, before it tore through her flesh and blew most of her trachea and esophagus to a location that was decidedly outside of her neck. Gore showered Bolt-action, as his face and mane turned a darker shade of scarlet with Powder’s blood. As Bolt-Action was trying to wipe his partner’s bodily fluids out of his eyes, shot number two rammed into the heavy steel armor covering his hide. It dented the armor, knocking the stallion off balance, but failed to penetrate. He was just aiming his rifle to return fire as the third shot flew high and shattered his horn into a hundred little shards.

Powder fell to the ground, where she lay writhing in agony, her eyes wide and terrified. Her eloquent speech and refined mannerisms had been reduced to clawing at the ground with her hooves and choking on her own blood. She worked her mouth, spitting up little droplets of crimson, but the only sound that escaped the devastated remains of her throat was a wet, bubbling gurgle.

Bolt-Action fell on his side, screaming and holding the base of his stump between his hooves. The bubble of magic surrounding his rifle imploded, sending the weapon clattering to the ground. He was rolling around in the dirt, clearly in too much agony to notice anything else in the world. He never stopped screaming. Given his current state, he was no longer much of a threat.

I hadn’t moved an inch, absolutely terrified of the scene that had played out before me.

Nohta, however, was prodding my shoulder with a hoof, “Damn, Sis! Did you see that?”

The pegasus spat her gun back into the leather holster that was slung low on her shoulder, stepped over the body of the decapitated earth pony, and ambled over to the screaming ex-unicorn. She kicked his hooves out of the way, and ground her own hoof into the stump of his horn, eliciting even louder shrieks of pain from him. In a husky voice that was saturated with excitement, she yelled into his face, “You dumb fucks actually thought that you could pull that shit and get away with it? Seriously? When I’m in town? What the hell are you smoking?”

Powder’s horn flared to life, enveloping her hammer in its magic. Her face had twisted into an expression of sheer rage even as her life’s blood poured out of her neck and over her hooves.

The pegasus hadn’t noticed, and continued taunting the raider as he groaned and wailed, “Seriously though, I gotta give you bastards credit. You sure livened this place up a bit! Plus with that sweet new bounty on you folks, I’mma be swimming in the caps!”

Powder’s cudgel levitated high over the pegasus’ head. With a start, I realized that she wasn’t going to notice the threat until it was too late.

I drew my weapon as S.A.T.S. assisted my aim. Three bolts of crimson flew into the unicorn mare’s head. Powder’s mane and coat burned away from the top of her head, leaving her skin to blister and crack from the concentrated points of heat. Her charred skull blew inwards on the third shot, leaving her brain to sizzle from the blast. The hammer dropped to the side of the pegasus and impacted against Bolt-Action’s armored flank with a loud *clang.* The reeking odors of burnt fur and flesh joined the already overpowering aroma of blood that permeated the dry night air.

The pegasus turned, taking note of my trembling figure, before looking from my pistol to the dead mare and then to the club at Bolt-Action’s side. After a pregnant moment of silence, she looked back to me and spoke, “Heh. Thanks, babe. I owe you one.”

My eyes were drawn wide as my entire body shook with the realization of what I had just done.

My levitation spell faltered, sending my pistol clattering to the earth, as a brittle whisper escaped my throat, “Luna… Dear Goddess, forgive me…”

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw the pegasus flash her wing downward to plunge her primary feathers, and the only barely visible blades the she wore upon them, into Bolt-Action’s neck. His eyes shot wide, and then faded as he passed away.

I tried to control my uneven breaths, unable to pull my eyes away from Powder’s smashed, burnt skull.

The pegasus turned back to me, pulling her wing from the raider’s corpse, “Heh, what’s up with you? You look like that bitch is trying to haunt you or something.” She snorted, and winked in my direction, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe from the ghosties.”

My response was to stare at Powder’s corpse as my lower lip quivered.

She had just started to walk to the light green mare before she abruptly stopped. Turning her attention towards me again, her face fell into a grimace before she swore under her breath, “Shit. You’re actually worrying about raiders? Why? This couldn’t have been your-” She stopped mid-sentence as her crimson eyes widened before closing with an embittered frown accompanied by a small shake of her indigo face.

With some small portion of her brash behavior replaced by genuine concern, she continued, “It’s your first time, huh? Your first kill?”

I nodded, still shaking

She sighed, and walked to Powder’s body, poking at the fallen raider with a hoof. “Yep, thought so.” She shuffled some of the raider’s mane over the gruesome, and still smoking, hole in her skull, concealing the charred ruins of Powder’s face. Turning back to me, she spoke in a soft and oddly erudite tone, “There’s only a few things that can put that look into a mare’s eyes.”

Taking to the air, she flew the short distance to me, and placed herself between me and the corpse, blocking my view of Powder. It… helped; to not be able to see what I had done. I wasn’t completely able to tune it out, but the barrier that she had put between myself and my actions kept me from falling completely to pieces.

I couldn’t help but stare at the pegasus, as her form dominated my field of vision. And now that she was close, I could see all of her features in great detail. Her silvery-white coiffure was spiky and untamed, and almost completely drenched in raider blood. When combined with the small animal bone (Femur. Small mammal. Probable Species: Rock Squirrel. That’s right Candy… Facts. Concentrate on facts! Not on killing! Facts!) pierced through her left ear, it gave her a savage appearance. That barbarous, exotic mien was only made more apparent by the sweeping black whorls and curves dancing from the left corner of her mouth to above her left eye, the iris of which matched the blood in her mane perfectly.

I was still shaking when she spoke to me, “Nopony forgets their first kill. Don’t even try. Remember it. Embrace it, “ She paused, breathing deeply before continuing in a sincere, breathy whisper, “not fighting it makes the next one easier.”

Nohta poked my shoulder, startling me. “You alright, Sis?”

A tremulous whisper escaped my lips, “I… Nohta... I killed somepony.”

The pegasus turned and began walking to the light-green mare, who was waiting patiently, but called back to me over her shoulder in a light, jaunty voice, “Hey, if it makes it any easier, she was pretty much dead anyway! All you really did was save me a bruise!” As she trotted off to the earth pony, her cutie mark passed through my field of vision; a single flower with six white petals.

“That’s true, Sis.” Nohta glanced at the ivory corpse, “She wasn’t coming back from that first shot.”

Nohta was trying to help me. She was trying to help me! This was not how it was supposed to work! I was the elder sister! I needed to keep myself together! I was… I was failing at that too, wasn’t I?

I shook myself. Now was not the time to fall apart! Nohta still needed me! It took every ounce of willpower that I possessed, and several deep breaths, but I was somehow able to disconnect myself from the violence and focus on the present. If I could just hold out a little longer… Get the two of us to Mareon…

The pegasus trotted over the bodies towards the green mare, deftly sweeping her wings over heads to snip off ears and rifling through pockets as she went, and let out a great, boisterous laugh, “Bahaha! Dumb sons-a-bitches actually thought that attacking Mareon would be a good idea! Guess they forgot who was in town, eh, Margie? Long time nosey, by the way! Where ya been?”

The light-green mare snorted, rolling her eyes where she sat. She didn’t seem at all surprised by the recent turn of events, patiently waiting with her front hooves outstretched and a bored expression on her face. I took the gesture as a means to convey, ‘I’m still in these cuffs. I can’t break them myself, you know.’

“Hey! I can help with that!” Nohta trotted over to the pair and dug through her pockets, pulling out a black-handled screwdriver along with a small box of bobby pins.

The pegasus flapped her wings once, sprinkling droplets of blood on the ground, as her face lit up in a wide grin, “Hey, alright! It’s always nice when you rescue somepony and they turn around and actually help you out. Right Marge?”

I joined the rest of the group, providing Nohta with light in which to work. She had her face pressed sideways against the iron lock that held the green mare’s bonds in place, making nearly imperceptible adjustments with her teeth. Her front hooves were both occupied with manipulating the screwdriver that she was using to apply torque to the lock. I had never seen Nohta pick a lock before, but the mechanics didn’t seem all that difficult to figure out… I had to remind myself that my curiosity need not get the better of me in in every situation.

Instead I indulged it in other ways. Forcing myself to concentrate on keeping my voice steady, I spoke in a slightly less-wobbly whisper, “Pardon me, but did you say that Mareon had been attacked earlier?”

The pegasus turned to me, “Ya. Happened just the other day. I had just gotten back into town and was trying to find some smokes when all of a sudden, those bastards just poured into the town over the old bridge. Anyway, the town starts fighting back, ponies start dying left and right… Bad times. We only just now got the last of ‘em chased outta the saloon and the doctor’s office. Been a rough couple of days ‘round here for most folks.”

She paused, gesturing to the green mare with a head nod, “The last few that were holed up started to pull out with their captives, one of ‘em being my friend here. I chased after her when I saw them leaving.”

Sighing, she continued, “Hope you folks didn’t need much from Mareon, most of the supplies are stupid-expensive right now, and lotsa folks got hurt in the attack.”

I could feel a familiar urge begin to grow, overtaking my disgust with my recent actions, “There are wounded? How many? What is your doctor doing about it? What supplies are left? How safe is the town? Do you-”

She cut me off, flapping her wings in annoyance, “Yeesh, cool your flank sweet-cheeks! We’re working on it! Yes, folks got hurt. I don’t know what the count is, but the doctor was one of ‘em, so that answers that one. The town’s safe enough, but I wouldn’t stay too long if I were you.”

My frazzled nerves could hardly take any more of this. How many slights would this evening force me to endure? “Sweet-cheeks! Sweet-cheeks! I am a doctor, and I wish to be addressed as such!”

She blinked as the weight of my words struck her thick head like a gong, before exclaiming, “Wait… you’re a doctor?” Rising up in a storm of sharpened steel, feathers, and dust, she began to lightly shove me in the direction of the settlement with her hooves, almost yelling in my ears, “You need to get to Mareon! Folks need you there!”

I fended her off with a foreleg, scowling as I tried to retort, “And we were well on our way to-”

Nohta stomped a hoof on the ground, silencing the both of us. It was just as well, really. Somepony was bound to end up saying something she’d regret.

The green mare stayed silent, staring at her hooves as Nohta gave the screwdriver a final push, causing the lock to pop open with a small, metallic *click.* When Nohta pulled away, the green mare gave her a curt little nod of appreciation.

The pegasus didn’t lose any time getting back into a conversation. She landed beside her lime-green friend and whined, “Oh come on, Margarita! Why are you being all quiet? What’s the matter, cat bought your tongue?” Did she just...

Margarita sighed, placing her hoof over her face and shaking her head in exasperation. Then, looking forward with a stern expression, she opened her mouth and pointed a hoof at her tongue. Closing her mouth, she crossed her arms and shook her head.

The pegasus’ brow furrowed, “What? Seriously? You can’t talk? What happened?”

Margarita shrugged, shaking her head. She rocked back on her haunches, scratching her chin with a hoof and looking towards the sky, deep in thought. She threw her hooves forward in the air, as if bucking out at an invisible opponent, and sat back down. Then she shrugged again.

Nohta and the pegasus were both lost for words, but I saw a challenge. And a welcome distraction from my own thoughts. “You got in a fight?”

Margarita nodded, and the pegasus continued prodding her with questions, “You lost your voice in a fight? How does that even… Who’d you get in a fight with for that to happen?”

Margarita shivered, and glanced back at the mountain on the opposite side of the river of Mareon. She turned back to the group, and clopped her hoof against her forehead, then brought it outward in a slow, steady motion. She then closed her left eye, and pointed at her right, while staring at each of us.

I blinked, utterly confused. Nohta looked back to me with an equally clueless expression.

The pegasus gasped, “No… No fuckin’ way! You went after her without me?”

Margarita hoofed at the ground as she lowered her gaze. She nodded.

The pegasus’ face twisted in worry, “How many of the gang did you take with you?”

The green mare sniffed, and tapped her hoof on the ground. She did it again. And again. Again…

“Five… eight… TWELVE? You took the whole crew! But that would only leave the guards to look after Mareon, and they’re shit! You left the whole town wide open for an attack!”

Margarita cried silently as she nodded.

The blue mare groaned in frustration, “Well, you got her, right? Who made it back?”

The green mare shook her head, and tapped her chest with a hoof.

“Just... you? Shit!” The pegasus stomped a hoof on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust which was quickly dissipated by her excited, flapping wings, “She killed the whole crew? How many bodyguards did she have?”

Margarita shook her head again, spilling tears onto the ground.

The pegasus’ mouth dropped open. After blinking a few times, she whispered, “Fuck me… Psyker really is a monster, isn’t she?”

I’m not really accustomed to being left in the dark about topics of interest. My curiosity was piqued enough for me to ask, “Who is Psyker?”

The green mare and the pegasus both turned to me, one with tears in her eyes, the other with fire in hers. The pegasus answered for both of them, “Psyker is the leader of the raiders in this region. She’s the bitch that organized the attack on Mareon.” She glowered at the mountain across the river, and continued as she stared, “And she took out almost every good fighter in Mareon all by herself…”

Nohta turned to Margarita, “How’d you lose your voice though? How’d she do that?”

Margarita made an effort to clear the tears from her eyes, before she held both of her front hooves to her mouth, and swung them forward in a great, violent display of force. Sitting down, she blinked at us.

Nohta was the first to guess, “She… spat on you?”

Then the pegasus tried her luck, “She had really bad breath?”

I shook my head several times, eyes wide. I hadn’t the faintest notion of what she was trying to convey.

Margarita’s brow furrowed in a clear sign of frustration, as she took a moment to ponder her next action. Sitting back on her haunches, she held one hoof across her heart while the other was held aloft above her head. Her eyes had closed, and her mouth was open.

I had seen that pose before! “She sang?”

Margarita nodded before squinting and holding two hooves very close to each other. Then she repeated her previous action.

I concentrated, working it out like a puzzle. “It’s close to singing, but not quite… and it’s more violent?”

She nodded.

I hesitated for just a moment, then guessed, “She screamed?”

The green mare shivered, and nodded again, then held a hoof in front of her, while making a show of the other hoof being between her barrel and the first hoof. Then she tapped her forehead and grimaced.

The pegasus had somehow been able to beat me this time, “She screamed… inside your head?”

Margarita nodded and shivered again, clearly uncomfortable with the memory of her encounter.

The blue pegasus scratched the back of her neck, “Huh. Well… That’s a new one on me.”

Margarita pointed a hoof to the pegasus’ mane, and then bopped the top of her own head. She held her hooves out in front of her. One was held at length, only slightly bent, while the other was held closer to her barrel. She pantomimed getting knocked back by an invisible force, then moved her hooves rapidly before repeating the gesture. Was she mimicking the use of a rifle? When she had finished, she stared at the pegasus and shrugged.

The blue mare stared back for a moment before realization dawned on her face, “Oh! One of those bastards shot my hat up! Can you believe it? I can’t keep a good hat for more than a few days! And I left the Medicine Stick back in town. It’s bad enough that I’m wasting my hollow point forty-fours on these raiders, no way I’m gonna bust out the forty-five-seventies!” She smirked, and flared her wings wide, “Besides, my wing-blades and Forgiveness are more than a match for these soft targets.”

The pegasus took to the air, flapping her wings just enough that she was left hovering above our heads. She hooked a hoof behind her, in the direction of Mareon. “Well… shit, Marge… after what you’ve been through, it sounds like you could use a drink or seven. Wanna head back to the saloon?”

Margarita scowled, and pointed her hoof away from the town, then stamped on the ground insistently.

The pegasus was confused, “Huh? You want to head back to the wastes? There’s nothing out that way but ghouls and raiders right now. And it’d be really bad if we ran into Bright Eyes at this time of night.”

The green mare stamped her hoof again, and glowered at the pegasus.

But whatever Margarita was trying to convey had been lost on the blue featherbrain. The pegasus perked up, and exclaimed, “Oh! Hey! I just got a great idea! I’m gonna go get more raider ears for the bounty!” Margarita audibly facehoofed, before the pegasus continued, “Can you take these two to town, Margie? Awesome!” She hadn’t waited for a response, instead she turned to me, “And thanks again for the save, doc! I’ll have to buy you a drink sometime!” And with that, she looped around in the air and disappeared into the gloom.

I realized just how un-ladylike I was being by not thanking her for her help. “Wait! I didn’t even… catch your… ” She was nowhere to be seen, and E.F.S. had already lost her. Ugh! What a frustrating pony!

I turned back to Nohta and Margarita, to see their odd expressions. Margarita had arched an eyebrow and was staring at me with a wary, cautious expression. Nohta was sniggering.

“Why, whatever is the matter?”

“Your cheeks are all red, Sis.”

My muzzle rose into the air as I slid into lecture-mode, “Well, it… It’s hardly my fault if the emotional strain of the evening has caused the release of adenylyl cyclase into my circulatory system, triggering a drop in vascular resistance and the subsequent vasodilation of the various arteries, veins, and capillaries of my cheeks in order to better facilitate the anticipated influx of adrenaline! Why, this is nothing more than a rather textbook-example of the body’s response to fight-or-flight stimuli. Of course, adrenaline is also responsible for the vasoconstriction of-”

I looked back to them, to ensure that my audience was following along, only to find them both heading towards the gates of Mareon.

Nohta nudged the green mare with her leg and chuckled, “She’ll follow us. It never takes her too long to realize that nopony is listening to her ramble.”

I grumbled to myself, and hurried after them. One of these days, I vowed, someone would listen to what I have to say.

I’ll admit that the circumstances are a little odd, but I was right about that, wasn’t I?

The northern walls of Mareon had certainly seen better nights. The gates at the northern entrance lay battered and mangled on the ground. Bullet holes bit through the sheet metal as blood stains further discolored the already rust-covered walls. To make matters worse, vast segments of the barrier had been burnt and twisted, becoming gnarled and jagged in an awful way. Several portions of the wall had been blown apart entirely, leaving gaping entrances for the wasteland to seep into Mareon. A pair of unicorns and an earth pony from the town were already hard at work, trying to make repairs to the walls. I couldn’t help but think that they had rather a lot to accomplish by themselves.

A hoof-full of ragged, worn-out guards stood just past the broken gate, huddled together near a lamppost and looking as if a stiff wind could blow them over. They were guarding the broken-asphalt road, cracked and uneven as it was, which provided a straight path into the heart of the settlement.

One of the guards, a yellow buck wearing a pre-war combat helmet over a freshly bandaged head-wound, stumbled away from the group and lifted his voice in warning as we neared the town, “Hold up, now! Y’all ain’t trying to get inta Mareon is ya?”

One of the other guards, a purple mare in a scratched and worn set of combat barding rolled her eyes and groaned, “Shit, Cross… Just let ‘em in. They ain’t raiders!”

He squinted his eyes and peered in my direction, “Well, how c’n we be sure? Maybe they ain’t raiders, but maybe they is! Or maybe… “ He looked to my sister, “maybe one of ‘ems a spy!”

The purple mare took a long drag from her smoke, only exhaling after she had spoken her companion’s name, “Crossfire… Why don’t you settle down and let somepony who didn’t just take a hammer blow to the head sort this one out, okay? It’s just three ponies. They ain’t gonna cause trouble when the whole town’s on high alert.”

“Three? I, uh. I see six of ‘em.” The buck lifted a hoof to count us, only to wobble and nearly fall over. Frowning, he abandoned his mathematical pursuits, and walked back to his group, “Damn headache… Thinkin’ hurts.”

I stepped forward, speaking to the purple mare as I floated out a healing potion, “Did you say that your friend took a blow to the head? I may be able to help. May I inspect him?”

She inhaled from her cigarette again. What kind of tobacco was blue? “You a doctor? Thanks, but ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it none,” She tapped a hoof against the butterflies decorating the yellow box hanging at her side before exhaling. “I already checked him out. We’re damn lucky that the big lug was wearing that helmet of his. He only got a mild concussion. His eyes are fine, he ain’t throwin’ up, and he’s only being about as dumb as he normally is.” She sighed as a small smile crept across her lips, “Cross’ heart was always bigger than his brain.”

She nodded towards the middle of town, “If you’ve got the medical skills and some spare time, folks in town could sure use some help. I’d be in there myself, but the Sheriff wants me to stay with the guards in case the raiders get brave again. Besides, I gotta watch Cross for a while anyway. Head trauma and all that. Go on in. Just… be mindful of the fact that everypony’s still a little spooked.”

After thanking the purple mare, we followed the road past the guards and towards the center of town. The signs of recent fighting were everywhere. Pools of blood, spent bullet casings, and slivers of glass from busted windows reflected the faint light of the town’s lamps and neon signs. Rubble from the road and a few of the more substantial pre-war structures lay scattered in the streets. Wary looks accompanied hushed voices and the glint of metal as ponies unholstered their weapons at our passing. ‘A little spooked’ was an understatement.

It wasn’t hard to empathize with the residents of Mareon. Having been on the receiving end of an overwhelming and vicious attack only days ago had made it quite easy to imagine how these ponies must have been feeling. I wanted to help them.

I also wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into the very last place in Equestria that we should be. I didn’t want to give the pony, or ponies, that had hired the mercenaries a chance to finish the job on their own. Still… Father’s orders had been clear.

Three days. Nohta and I would have to stay for three days. No less, but certainly no more. We’d have to be careful about how we handled ourselves in town. If the two of us were lucky, then we might be able to avoid having anypony realize that we were from The Caravan. If we were unlucky, then, well… I still had my pistol.

Margarita led the way into town, clearly more knowledgeable about the layout of the settlement than Nohta or myself. When she reached a familiar-looking building with a painted sign leaning against its wall, she paused and turned to me.

I examined the outer wall of Doctor Flannel’s dilapidated house, contemplating the butterflies on the sign out front. No matter what obstacles the wasteland had thrown in my path, I was still a doctor. And surely not all of these ponies had helped to orchestrate my caravan’s demise.

I looked to my sister, “Nohta, I need you to do something for me.”

“What’s up, Sis?”

“Get Margarita to show you around town and tell the ponies of Mareon that someon- pony with medical experience has arrived.” I grimaced, but continued on. The damage had already been done. The silent, green mare arched an eyebrow at my verbal slip, but didn’t seem to be interested in acting out any questions she may have had. At least I hadn’t blown our cover in front of somepony who could run and tell the whole town. “Tell them that I’m trying to help the wounded in Doctor Flannel’s place of residence. We’re going to help as much as we can in the time we’ve been allotted.”

I sighed, “And Nohta, make no mention of The Caravan.”

Nohta cocked her head in confusion, “Why shouldn’t we tell folks about The Caravan?”

“I’ll explain later, dear.” I turned to Margarita, and spoke to both of them, “Time is of the essence.”

Margarita smiled and bowed her head in my direction, then trotted off down the road, leaving Nohta to hurry after her. My sister glanced over her shoulder in my direction once, and then followed our new acquaintance further down the dimly lit streets.

I shut my eyes and sucked in a deep, calming breath before raising my eyes to the heavens. The moon’s glow was almost completely hidden by the clouds, but random gusts of wind would occasionally part the cover and allow me the briefest of moments to see its luminous surface. I knew in my heart that if my sister and I were to survive the coming days, it would not be without assistance.

I whispered a prayer to that beautiful orb, “Luna, Nohta and I could really use some help right now. We’re hungry, and tired, and beginning to wear down. Please don’t let this town be our end.”

The clouds rolled back into place; impassive to my plea. I didn’t see the moon again for three nights.

I had started working immediately, setting up shop in Doc Flannel’s house as if it were my own clinic. I had just enough time to organize the Doctor’s meager amount of supplies and sterilize as many of the tools as I could find, as well as set out all of the potions, bandages, and other miscellaneous medical supplies from my own stores before the first wave of patients had arrived at the door. I admitted them all of course, and busied myself with prioritizing the dire emergencies from the survivable conditions before getting down to work.

It was a gruesome affair, having to tell ponies, ‘No, I’m terribly sorry, but there is only one of me, and I can’t attend to your needs right now. I have to make sure that another patient survives the next ten minutes.’ Or, ‘I know it hurts, believe me I do. But we just can’t spare any Med-X right now.’ Or my personal high-point of the night, ‘No, I didn’t just pass out from the sight of your foal’s blood. I’ve just been awake for far too long.’

Luckily, one of the first patients that I had cared for had been The Doctor himself. The raiders had mutilated his leg horribly. I did what I could, but some injuries were just beyond my abilities. Honestly, at his age, I considered it a Lunar blessing that we hadn’t been forced to remove the appendage entirely.

He was hobbling around on a hastily-fastened brace that Margarita had fashioned from a few bits of scrap, determined to help his neighbors and friends. He was still unable to use his left foreleg, but was quite capable of attending to his patients. Despite my initial apprehension as to his level of medical prowess, he proved rather adept at being able to remove bullets, administer potions, and round up volunteers to assist the two of us in some of the more mundane and less technical responsibilities of medical care, such as sterilizing equipment, boiling water, cleaning bandages, and tending to the bedpans. The doctor also proved to be as stubborn as a mule, instantly dismissing my demands that he rest. His assistance with the patients, and his determined attitude, helped me get through the night.

Nohta had found the two of us some food during the course of the night, and I was able to stave off the worst effects of starvation. I was so completely taken with ravenous hunger that I hadn’t even bothered to ask what it was. It was just a bowl of grey mushy stuff, but to me, it was quite certainly the best grey mushy stuff the world had ever known. Somepony had also offered up a couple of Sparkle-Colas as thanks for my care. The caffeine and sugar helped to jolt my fading consciousness back into a state of wakefulness.

There finally came a moment in the night, nearly the morning at that point, when all of the most severe cases had been stabilized. All of the beds were full, nearly all of our potions had been used, and I had been reduced to using donated liquor to keep my equipment sterilized. It was at that point that I found myself unable to stay awake long enough to wrap a bandage around a mare’s lacerated knee, and had to excuse myself to try and get some sleep.

I don’t even recall getting to bed that night. I woke the next day, lying upon Doc Flannel’s waiting bench. I excused myself from the worried eyes of the incoming patients and made my way to the little filly’s room to wash up. Then it was right back to work.

Nohta had offered to help with the patients in the morning, still being accompanied by Margarita, but I asked her to keep an eye out for The Caravan. I was hoping that if she saw me being optimistic, it might help to keep her own hopes up. And on the off chance that The Caravan actually rolled up to town, I wanted to know straightaway.

From a few of my patients in the morning, I was able to gather that the raiders had not been content with simply allowing the ponies of Mareon to take the town back. They had resorted to harassing stragglers on the roads, attacking wandering traders in an attempt to cut off Mareon’s ability to resupply itself from the salvage of the wasteland. When I had asked which roads had been rendered impassable, the response was not one that I had wanted to hear. All contact with Equestria, save for the radio broadcasts, had been severed due to raiders blocking the northern roads. If my Caravan had survived the griffins, it would most assuredly run right into a veritable army of savage raiders. I chose not to share this information with Nohta.

By the end of the day, my patients were comprised of not only the ponies who lived in Mareon, but wasteland wanderers and traders who had been fortunate enough to survive an encounter with the gangs. The injuries were still piling on, and all of the attacks meant lots of bullet wounds, bruises, broken bones, burns, blisters, bad backs, bursitis, buck addictions, and even a case or two of bad breath brought on by binging on “battle-brew.” In other words, I had my work cut out for me.

By the second morning, all of my potions had been consumed, along with all of Doctor Flannel’s supplies. The Mayor had appropriated two more houses within the settlement’s walls for use as clinical wards, much to the dismay of the ponies who had lived there. I could understand their frustration, but couldn’t see a viable alternative. The sick and injured had just been too numerous for The Doctor’s modest residence.

There was a minor scare when a young mother brought in her wounded colt around midday. Upon seeing me for the first time, she practically jumped from fright, gasping and shrieking, “Stripes! You’re a zebra!”

“Er, no, they’re just a tribal marking. Part of my home’s traditions! I’m in the middle of my right of passage and, as a doctor, I’m supposed to mark my face so that others know what I do.” I backed away, trying to reassure her with a smile while I pointed to my cheeks, “See? Pink. Like the butterflies?”

There was a disturbingly long moment of silence within the clinic as everypony present focused their attention on the mother and myself. A bedridden stallion coughed.

Another stallion, however, proved much more helpful. “Ugh! Petunia, you dumb-flank! You ever seen a zebra with a horn on her head? That’d just about be the most ridiculous thing ever! Right next to you thinking that our pink-maned doctor is a ruddy stripe! ‘Sides, look at the rest of her! She’s only got markin’s on her face, you idjit!”

The mother blinked at me for a few moments, her eyes traveling upwards to notice my horn, then her look of surprise turned to one of timid embarrassment, “Oh, yes. Of course. How... silly, of me to make such an assumption.” She prodded her colt forward, pleading with me, “Please, I’ve heard that you can help my son! I’ll do anything!” With her unease abated, I was able to continue my work in relative peace.

It was only as the sun was setting behind the clouds on the third day that Doctor Flannel, myself, and our hoof-full of spirited volunteers found ourselves watching over three houses of patients in stable condition. Due to my past experience with the traumatic injuries often sustained in The Stable, as well as Doctor Flannel’s aptitude for caring for wounds sustained in combat, we had been able to save the lives of nearly four dozen ponies. Part of me wondered if the wasteland had been set up with a system of checks and balances. I had lost my caravan, but saved its equal in strangers.

Well… maybe not its equal. Can anyone truly put an estimation of worth on the life of their father?

Most of the town was preoccupied with tending to the morbid affair of grave digging. Those who were not lucky enough to funnel their sorrows into the meditation of physical labor were either weeping near the rows of the deceased or sobbing into their drinks at The Saloon. Intermittent caterwauls of anguish rent through the silence of the night as mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, friends and lovers all came upon the realization of loss. As a doctor, it is a sound I am agonizingly familiar with.

I hadn’t been able to save all of them. I had tried… Goddess, I had tried. Not even my unique abilities had been enough to save them all. I remember; one buck had died from blood loss the moment he reached my table. It was callous, perhaps, to immediately and unceremoniously levitate his body off of the table so that another might be spared, but I had no choice. Every moment was precious, doubly so with my faltering strength and waning consciousness.

Another mare had died of subdural haematoma after receiving a club to her head. I found bits of concrete embedded in her skull, drawing me back to unpleasant memories amidst an already unpleasant atmosphere of misery and despair. Every death that might have been prevented carved its niche a little deeper into my heart. It was only for Nohta’s sake, that she might be able to depend upon the facade of my strength, that I kept my feelings bottled inside.

Nohta and I were left alone that last night as the town mourned its losses. I was far too weary to even play at making conversation with her, and we both found ourselves in bed early that evening. Three days of intense triage with hardly enough time to even use the restroom or find a meal had left me completely physically drained, and without any sign of The Caravan I was forced to let go of the last fraying threads of hope that I might ever see Father again. The only mercy lain upon me was that my nights were dreamless. Luna had surely scattered my nightmares to the abyss, granting me some small respite from my imagination. I was thankful. I had no desire to wade into the horrors waiting for me within the darkening confines of my own mind.

Three days had come and gone. There was no sign of The Caravan, and no word of any large group of ponies beyond the walls except for the raider gangs. As I woke the next day, I resolved myself to carry out Father’s last orders. We had to go home. The Stable needed to know.

“You’ve been a gracious host, Doctor Flannel. Thank you ever-so-much for the lodging and provisions.”

The doctor was holding his horn up to his ear. “Aww shucks, missy. Don’t think too much of it. I’m just about tickled pink to help.” He blinked several times, “Y’all ain’t leavin’ already, are ya? Ya just got back!”

I pulled my now filthy, but whole, lab-coat back over my natural coat and adjusted my pistol’s holster. “Unfortunately, yes. My sister and I have prior and pressing obligations to which we absolutely must attend. Rest assured, however, that should we ever find ourselves in Mareon again, I’ll make it a point to pop in and visit.”

“Well now, I reckon that sounds alright. The both of ya are welcome to stay here anytime ya like. Oh, and ‘fore I forget, I wanted you to know that I hope you find yer kin. Ain’t right, gettin’ separated like that.”

I froze, and with a flash of magic, unlatched my pistol. “How did you-”

“Now hold up missy! I didn’t mean to get ya all riled up. I was just sayin’ that I think it’s a right shame that you got separated from yer caravan. Y’all were lookin’ fer supplies, right?”

The bubble of my magic had not yet lifted the pistol from its holster, but I wasn’t about to let it go, either. “How did you know about what happened to The Caravan?”

“Well now, I don’t rightly know just what happened. But I figured that there had to be some reason fer a whole passel of ya to show up and leave, only fer two of ya to come back a few days later. Figured it mighta had somethin’ to do with the raiders, actually.”

I relaxed an infinitesimal amount. “Raiders? You think that the attack on my caravan and the attack on Mareon are connected?”

“Well, the timin’ is awfully suspicious, ain’t it? Bunch of raiders head for Mareon, and a bunch of raiders go after yer kin at the same time. Sounds to me like something that Psyker’d do.”

The crimson flare of my magic faded as I latched the strap of the holster back into place, “Raiders didn’t attack my caravan. It was mercenaries.”

“Mercs? You sure about that, young’un? Only mercs we got ‘round these parts are Margarita’s company, and you and she seem to get along just fine.”

Margarita was a mercenary? “No. These mercenaries were griffins, not ponies.”

The doctor stiffened, his eyes snapped wide with shock before narrowing with rage as he struggled to maintain his balance on his crutch, “Griffins! Them fuckin’ turkeys! They ain’t got the sense that Luna gave a molerat! Those fuckin’ feather dusters ain’t worth the time of day! If I saw one on fire-” The doctor’s tirade veered off into a series of increasingly vulgar profanities and racial slurs that were, quite frankly, astounding. He was pitching a fit in the way that only an elderly stallion, securely set in his ways and completely unashamed of his views, can. The sincerity of his diatribe took me completely by surprise. It also left little doubt in my mind that the doctor was not the pony whom had hired the griffins.

I blushed, amused at the doctor’s polemic even as I felt guilty for enjoying his assessment of an entire people. I left the clinic shortly after the doctor had calmed down and I had gotten him to promise not to tell others about my caravan’s fate. He had agreed wholeheartedly, being extremely grateful for my help with the patients, and I felt assured that there was at least one unicorn in Mareon whom I could trust to keep a secret.

As my sister and I traveled through the town that morning, I happened to notice a wooden sign detailing the new bounty on the raiders. Mouth-written notices about the different raider gangs in the area were nailed into place over top of fading, yellow job offers. The bounty board was rife with information regarding how to collect on the bounties on the raider leaders. I did not believe it to be a coincidence that the bounty board was positioned in such a way that it should be the first thing somepony would see when they exited the saloon.

There was a standing bounty for any and all raiders in the amount of twenty caps per left ear. Defiling corpses was a most barbaric practice to be sure, but one that I was in no position to argue against. These raiders posed a threat to the safety of the entire settlement, and the town’s solution was swift and violent. The townsponies were baying for blood. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder who amongst the settlement’s survivors would be brave or foolish enough to try and collect.

Specific bounties for several high-profile raiders known as “The Outcast,” “The Bard,” and “The Pyro,” were given for quite a few more caps. The pay was two-hundred caps for The Pyro’s mask, three-hundred for The Bard’s guitar, and an impressive five-hundred for The Outcast’s Pipbuck. But they were all drops in a bucket compared to the bounty for a pony named “Psyker.” A mouth-drawn illustration of an impressively severe looking unicorn glared down at any who should pass the board. Underneath of Psyker’s glowering face was the bounty for her head: Five thousand caps.

Nohta and I had been able to sell a few miscellaneous items, including the, er, adult-oriented publications and had made a small pile of caps. We had enough of the wasteland currency to afford some more food, a single bedroll, and a couple of the town’s precious healing potions. A small pang of guilt washed over me as I realized that it was quite possible that I could have produced a few healing potions myself, had I only possessed a few more ingredients. It would have spared us quite a few caps, as any healing supplies were still in great demand due to the raider blockade. And more importantly, it would have spared the supplies for Mareon. The town was still in danger, while Nohta and I were soon to be heading for the relative safety of The Stable. But, I wasn’t about to set hoof outside of town without at least one restorative potion for each of us.

Before the two of us had left town, Nohta had insisted that we stop at what she referred to as “The Commons.” She had spent the better part of our stay in Mareon alongside Margarita, and wished to say goodbye.

Long wooden buildings with peeling shingles and dirty yellowed windows were arranged in rows near the southern part of town. As we approached the first in the series of identical structures the green mare came out to greet us, carrying a polished wooden case and a pad of paper. Before either of us could even raise a hoof in greeting, the mute mare was nudging the case towards Nohta with a smile on her face.

She held up the note which had been scribbled on the paper. It read, “Thank yu fur pikeen the lok. I wuz trapt beefor yu helpt me. I unnurstann that yu hav to go, but yu need to be careful! This wuz Dad’s gunn. I want yu to hav it. Walkeen thru the waistlann with no gunn is not a gud idea. It kiks bak, hard, but hurts them moar. Take care of yorself. The waists need moar gud ponys, ann gud zeebruhs.” I looked farther down the page, and noticed an addendum, “Never wuz gud at spelleen. Wuz bettur at talkeen. Leev Psyker alon, she messt with my hed!”

Nohta finished mouthing the words as she read the note and looked back up to Margarita’s grinning face. The green mare took that as the cue to pop the lock on the case, which sprung open to reveal a veritable cannon of a pistol. A dark, polished wooden grip met a jet-black frame and barrel. Amber letters rode out across the frame, spelling “The Worm.”

Before Nohta could look away from the pistol, Margarita had scrawled out another note, “Worm is bad for agave, not shur why sumpony wud put it in tequila. But gunn is gud. Eezee to use. So eezee, eevun a drunk like Dad wuz a grate shot with it.” She ripped out the page before writing on another one.

Margarita held her last note in her mouth, as she sat on her haunches. “I will be in Mareon for a long time. Noware to go, with raydurz all ovur. If yu cum bak to town, find me. We will go hunteen for raydurz or gools. Lots of fun with a gud groop of frendz!”

Nohta lingered on that last word, before looking back up to meet the mare’s eyes, “I’ll be back, Margarita. You can count on that.”

As the two of us were walking past the guards at the southern entrance to the town, I nudged my sister’s shoulder and whispered, “Someone made a friend.” The grin on her muzzle was just barely visible underneath her hood.

The cracked and barren landscape that lay south of Mareon stretched out before us as we made our way back to The Stable. I felt marginally safer after we had lost sight of Mareon, even if it was the only semblance of order for miles. The scant few travelers that had come from the south had reported no trouble with any gangs. And with Mareon acting as a barrier between us and the raider blockade, I felt safer than I had in days. It felt good to be on the road again. Productive, even. Perhaps Nohta and I had inherited Mother’s wanderlust?

Miraculously, we actually managed to find The Caravan’s old campsite from our first night out of The Stable. The ash pit had since been emptied by passing winds, leaving the stones that had encircled the bed of coals as the only sign of a campsite. We decided to call it a night. My little sister passed me a freshly opened (which is about as fresh as most food gets out in the wasteland) can of corn as I fiddled with Mother’s fire talisman. After activating the magic, I levitated it into place under a small pile of brush and twigs. The fire was welcome in the darkness of night.

“Sis,” Nohta spoke through a mouthful of carrots, “do you think we left too soon?”

“We are following Father’s orders. He wanted us to leave Mareon after three days if nopony from The Caravan had come back yet, and that’s precisely what we did. Besides, something was wrong there. Every moment we tarried in Mareon was another moment that we were in danger.” I levitated the can of corn to myself and ate. You never really miss silverware until you’re forced to do without.

She looked up from her dinner, “What do you mean? Folks seemed to like us well enough. Or, they at least liked you. And Margarita was really nice.”

“No, not that. Mareon as a whole didn’t seem to mind us, I just think that somepony there really didn’t want us around.” I finally explained my musings about the griffin mercs and their possible employer to Nohta.

“That’s… wow, Sis. I hadn’t even thought of it like that.” She stared into the fire, trying to make sense of the past week’s events. “So, somepony in Mareon had to do it? Wait, hold up. What if the merc company was just bored? Or maybe they weren’t mercs at all, just griffin raiders? How can we assume anything about what happened? We don’t really know what life is like up here just yet.”

“I...” She was right, I didn’t actually have any evidence that they were mercenaries other than the opinion of a now-deceased brown buck. I was assuming things. In all honesty, we didn’t know anything about life on the surface besides the few scant details we had gleaned from our parent’s tales of adventure, the experiences relayed to us from other members of The Caravan, or from our own meager amount of personal dealings with surface ponies.

The moon was peeking through the cloud cover again. I lifted my gaze to examine its light as I spoke to my sister, “You’re right, Nohta. We don’t know anything out here.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to concentrate.

Nohta sighed, and finished her can of carrots, “I was hoping that you would tell me I was wrong.”

After the two of us had finished our meal, I levitated the fire talisman from the bed of coals and towards myself. It was no more warm than the ground upon which I sat. Tapping its rounded onyx edge with a hoof, I positioned it snugly back into place in the alchemy set. I was simply too tired to try my hoof at making a real potion, even if I believed I possessed the required ingredients to do so. Instead, I closed up my packs and unfurled our new sleeping bag by the fire.

Nohta and I hadn’t shared a bed in years, not since long before Mother had passed. But with only one bedroll between the two of us, and each of us much too stubborn to simply let the other sleep on the ground, we both finally compromised and lay down next to each other. Nohta was asleep in a few minutes, lightly snoring as she lay against my back.

I kept the fire going by levitating more wood onto the flames, unable to get to sleep. I kept worrying about what The Stable would think as we walked back into the shelter. Once we crossed over the threshold that was our stable’s broken door, our Pipbucks would link to The Overmare’s terminal to announce our return while simultaneously letting everypony know that something had gone horribly wrong. I was dreading the reaction that most of The Stable would have towards Nohta, fearing that they might come to blame her for the loss of the expedition. And the loss of the head doctor, the caravan leader, several other precious specialists, and of course the lives of so many of our number. I couldn’t imagine that they would be terribly excited to see me either. I was expecting nothing but accusations and anger.

Eventually I ran out of wood to put on the flame, and lay my head down next to Nohta’s. Everything would work itself out. Right? Father had promised.

Footnote: The Party Levels Up!
Welcome to Level 3!
New Perk!

Intense Training (Endurance): Your recent trials and tribulations have worn you thin, but not worn you out! You permanently gain +1 Endurance, for a total of 5. Suck it up, Doc!

Skills Note: Survival 50

Nohta gains a Perk:

Luna’s Chosen: Nohta is truly a friend of the night. Her eyes now adapt more quickly to low-light conditions, allowing her to peer into the darkness that others fear. Pipbuck lamps are for scaredy-ponies!

Author's Notes:

Sometimes you write something and it ends up awful. Then you end up scrapping about 20k+ words and rewriting the whole thing. And then when you rewrite it… well… let’s just say that life is always ready to throw a curveball your way when you least expect it.

Massive thanks to my editor, Wr3nch, for helping me with this story. It really wouldn’t be the same without his input. And it’s pretty awesome to know that such a great guy has my back on this one.

Thanks for all the covering fire, buddy! Hope you’re ready for more!

Another big thank you to KKat, for giving all of us this amazing sandbox for our imaginations. And of course, thanks to all the folks who have worked on MLP or Fallout.