The three exchanged a glance.

“I have no idea how to sail.” Dimple said after a moment.

Springer shook his head no and wobbled from the effort.

“Then we have a problem.” Xanthippe said, pointing with her hoof.

“Oh cheese!” Dimple said, seeing the wall of blackness off in the distance, creeping forward. “That is one big storm.”

Springer let out a strained wheeze and tried to speak. “Sshaliiiooopeesh.”

“Springer?” Dimple asked.

“Ssshaaaaallllliiiiiooooopeeesh.” Springer slurred, now annoyed, drooling onto the deck. He turned around slowly, pointing toward the cargo hold door.

“Oh… that.” Dimple said, his voice filled with worry. “Think it is wise to let her go?”

Springer nodded.

“Are you sure Springer? What if she tries to eat us?” Dimple said, somewhat concerned.

“What if the boat sinks and she is chained up in the hold?” Xanthippe said.

Dimple paused. He didn’t like that idea. Nothing deserved that. And he didn’t like the idea of the boat sinking either. As he stood there, thinking, a strong gust of wind hit the sails and made the ship tilt a bit.

Springer began to stagger off towards the door, lurching about wildly as the ship rocked in the breeze. “Sshpoopifth noovil gesthers” He muttered as he shimmied about. He made it to the door, paused, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Dimple took off after his friend, a worried look upon his face. Xanthippe followed as well, slowly, still hobbled.

In the hold, the trio slowly approached the chained lunar pegasi, Springer having a rather rough go at walking with the now lurching ship. Calliope whistled and clicked wildly when she saw them.

“Easy filly.” Dimple soothed, as he approached. “We’re going to let you go.” He cleared his throat. “She’s still a pony. Wouldn’t be right to leave her chained up down here, incase something happens.”

“Wouldn’t be right to leave me chained up either.” Xanthippe said in caustic tones. “I can’t go anywhere. And I must admit, I rather like being Dimple’s property.”

Springer nodded drunkenly. His face contorted in concentration and his horn flashed a dull blue glow. There were several loud clicks. “My yeeeaarsh huf druuunken deeblaaucherfy havsherveth me well.” He slurred.

Calliope kicked at her now loosed chains, letting out a loud series of clicks and pops. She looked directly at Springer, mouth open, fangs bared.

She charged.

There was suddenly a puddle of some sort of liquid on the floorboards, directly under Springer.

Calliope crashed into Springer, her forelegs around his body, smashing him down into the floor, squeezing him violently. She whistled several times, and then popped, a very loud sound below the decks.

“I think she likes you.” Dimple said, breathing a sigh of relief, as Xanthippe kicked off her own chains.

What do we do about the storm?” Xanthippe asked. “There is no one left to sail this ship.”

Calliope whistled alarmingly and turned her head towards the zebra, still squeezing Springer. Springer, still in a highly drugged state, thought being squeezed by a filly, no matter how strange she might look, was a wonderful thing. He carelessly gave her a drunken goose in a delicate area with a forehoof.

Calliope let out a high pitched whistle and turned back toward Springer, giving him a sultry eyes half opened stare. She waggled her eyebrows at him saucily, and then let go of him, leaving him in a heap on the floor. She shook her head and let out a series of very pleased sounding clicks.

Springer lay there, a dopey grin on his face. “Ooh thatsh shniiish.” He murmured. “Comsh backsh shere shweet sthang.”

Calliope gave him a glance and clicked several times, teeth bared.

Xanthippe realised that Calliope was smiling. She did not share her revelation however. She stood there, feeling a private feeling of smug satisfaction watching the two colts squirm.

“We should find food.” Xanthippe said, taking charge, because somepony had to. “Food and something to drink would be good. Well, nothing hard to drink for Springer.”

“Whyshish shthatsh?” Springer demanded, still on the floor, looking at Calliope.

Xanthippe rolled her eyes and did not reply. “Oh.” She said, looking at Dimple. “Thank you.” She said, her voice warm and genuine. “If you would have came up on that deck just one minute later, it would have been a little too late.” Xanthippe said, her eyes suddenly downcast.

“Nopony takes what I stole first.” Dimple said. “Finders keepers. And Springer gave up his claim. I’ve never owned a zebra before. That’s kinda special.”

“What do you intend to do with me?” Xanthippe said.

Dimple shrugged.

Xanthippe rolled her eyes again.

“If my back gets scratchy, can you scratch it?” Dimple asked.

Xanthippe stood there in total shock, her mouth falling open. “Is that all you want from me?” She asked, her tone one of disbelief.

“I am a very practical pony.” Dimple said. “It was the most pressing concern I could think of. I’m kinda big and all my muscles get in the way. I can’t reach back there. Scratchy places drive me crazy.”

Xanthippe sighed, but inwardly felt thankful.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Dimple said.

Xanthippe raised an eyebrow, fearing the worst.

“You can talk to me about cheese. Springer gets testy when I talk about cheese.” Dimple said, nodding his head.

Xanthippe heaved a sigh of exasperation and left to go find food.

The galley, as it turned out, was a horrible and smelly place. Dimple had entered first, breaking down the locked door, not patient enough to wait for Springer. Every square inch of the room was filthy. A terrible smell assaulted the nostrils in much the same way the minotaurs had wanted to assault Xanthippe not too long ago. Dimple made his way forward, cautiously. He peered around in the dim light, turning his head to and fro, looking for food. Maybe there would be cheese…

He picked up a long wooden spoon in his teeth and poked it into a large iron pot sitting on a coal burning stove. A pony skull floated in the broth. There were also a few eyeballs, bloated and white, covered in puffy veins. A waterlogged pony ear clung to the spoon.

Dimple dropped the spoon into the pot and began to back out of the kitchen, bumping into Xanthippe, shoving her backward with his backside. She backed outside and waited for an explanation.

“What's in the pot?” Xanthippe asked.

Dimple said nothing, looking green and queasy.

“Do I want to know?” Xanthippe asked.

Dimple shook his head no.

“I see.” Xanthippe said. “Gruesome gruel found in pot. Noted.”

Calliope stood on the deck, glad to be in the sun, but concerned by the storm rolling in the distance. She spread her wings, flapping them a bit, too weak to actually fly. Her ribs were visible.

Springer wobbled towards her, and, when the ship lurched, he crashed into her. He grinned, enjoying another moment of being close. Calliope let out a shrill squeak when Springer pressed his nose into her neck and inhaled deeply. When the ship lurched in the other direction, he tumbled away, rolling over on to his back, looking somehow even more drunk and dopey.

Dimple went to work throwing minotaur carcasses overboard, grabbing them by their clothing with his teeth and then dragging them to the rail. He stood solidly on three legs, even with the ship pitching. Xanthippe was pleased to see them go. She shuddered, thinking about what had almost happened.

The breeze began to pick up, turning into a full fledged wind with strong gusts now. The sky was darkening. Waves began to crash against the side of the ship. The sails rippled and the masts made creaking sounds. Xanthippe began to feel a sense of alarm, the first prickle of fear began to tickle her spine.

Dimple grunted when the last minotaur was overboard. He shook himself off, having been soaked by a wave, and walked towards the center of the deck. “I’ll take that back scratching now.” He said, smiling broadly, missing a few teeth.

Xanthippe sighed. It was the least she could do. Thankfully, he wasn’t asking for anything else. She reared up on her hind legs, balanced by leaning against Dimple, and began to scratch along his spine with her hoof.

“Oh yeah.” Dimple growled, kicking at the deck with one hind hoof. “Right there. Aw… Harder!” He grunted.

Xanthippe found herself smiling faintly. Dimple was big. Stupid. And kinda sweet. He was also wet and incredibly smelly, but she tried to ignore that.

Meanwhile, Calliope had kicked open the door to the captain’s quarters and was poking around inside. She emerged a moment later, looking rather disappointed. She trotted over the deck and sat down near Dimple and Xanthippe, watching the incoming storm. Springer crawled over the lurching deck to Calliope, and then collapsed, content to be near her side. She bared her teeth down at him, causing him to smile hopefully up at her. She patted him lightly with a hoof and then turned her attention back to the storm rolling in.

“Oh, that feels so good. So nice having your own zebra.” Dimple murmured, wiggling out from under Xanthippe. “Scratchies gone. Job finished.” He said, smiling.

“So glad I could be of service.” Xanthippe said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m going to want more of that later.” Dimple said, beaming in a way that only Dimple could, which was really rather horrible. Dimple had a face that could make milk curdle.

“Weesh havsh a boat.” Springer said, sobering up slightly, smiling broadly. “Boat.” He repeated. “Boat boat boat.”

Raindrops began to fall, a light shower at first, quickly turning into a deluge.

“We should go below.” Dimple said, always the practical pony. As he spoke, the first few hailstones began to pummel the deck. The masts began to crackle, ropes waved in the breeze, and sails began to whip about, some tearing free from their ties. The sky became as black as night. “Going now.” Dimple shouted over the wind, heading for the door of the captain’s quarters.

The four of them got situated in the sparse quarters, what little light there was from the sun now gone. It was dark. The ship pitched and rolled, and there was the creak of wood. As Xanthippe sat in the darkness, she heard a giggle, followed by a faint whistle and a popping crackle. She heard rustling sounds.

“We’re probably going to die.” Dimple said. “I’ve had a good run. I had one good friend. I think I’m alright with this.” He sighed in the darkness. “I’ve had my face and my mark on a wanted poster. I have a small amount of infamy. I’ve rose up out of the gutters and I eat almost every day, which is better than most ponies.”

“I’m not alright with this at all.” Xanthippe said. “I don’t want to die.”

“I doubt we have a choice.” Dimple said. “That storm is going to rip this ship apart. We have no means to stop it.”

There was another giggle in the dark, followed by a wet smacking sound. Several wet smacking sounds. Xanthippe felt her cheeks growing warm as she began to realise what was going on in the dark, with two ponies in the captain’s hammock. She heard the rustle of rope. They weren’t wasting any time. They had found something to do in their final moments.

Xanthippe huddled in the dark, tucked into a corner, trying not to roll around with the pitching of the ship, and also trying not to listen to sounds of two ponies trying to enjoy whatever was left of their lives. As she sat there in the darkness, trying to shut everything out, she felt a leg wrap around her.

She squealed and squirmed away, or tried to do so. Dimple was strong and squirming away wasn’t possible. She felt herself being pulled close against her will. She whimpered pleadingly, hoping he would let go.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her voice a terrified whisper. “I don’t want to do, well, whatever it is they are doing. Please don’t hurt me, I just want my last moments in peace.”

There was no answer, just a squeeze. She felt herself pressed against a still slightly damp and somewhat smelly colt who was holding her silently in the darkness. His breathing was heavy and she could feel his hot breath upon her. He trembled. She hoped it wasn’t from desire.

After several moments of regaining her composure, she leaned in close to what she hoped was his ear and struggled to find her courage. “Do… do you want to do what they are doing?” She asked, her voice barely audible. “Maybe they have the right idea. You have been very kind to me. I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad.”

There was no reply. There were plenty of enthusiastic grunts coming from the hammock though. Heat blazed through Xanthippe’s body. The cabin was filled with grunts, clicks, pops, creaks from the ship, and the sounds of the storm. The boat was being peppered with hailstones.

“I’m scared of the dark.” Dimple whispered, his voice quivering. “Springer always makes a little light.” He resumed his silence for a few minutes. “And my back itches from the salt water.”

Xanthippe threw her forelegs around Dimple and squeezed back. There was the sounds of crackling wood from outside.

“I don’t mind dying. I just don’t want to die in the dark.” Dimple said, his whisper barely audible.

There was another loud crack of wood and the ship nearly turned on to its side, causing Dimple and Xanthippe to bounce around. Water was beginning to pour into the captain’s quarters. The enthusiastic and sloppy wet sounds from the hammock continued.

Xanthippe pressed her nose into Dimple, feeling around, trying to find something before it was too late. After several moments of fumbling in the dark, she found what she was looking for.

Two lips.

She kissed them, not knowing what she was doing, seeking comfort and hoping to offer some in return, her gratitude pouring forth, and maybe a hint of something else as well.

The captain’s quarters suddenly flooded as there was a deafening crack and the sound of splintering wood. The enthusiastic sounds of foalmaking ceased and became panicked cries and a whistle of alarm.

Above them, the sky whirled in a terrible maelstrom, lightning flashed and thunder crackled. The roof to the cabin was gone. Most of the ship was gone.

Xanthippe clung tightly to Dimple, feeling him squeeze back. Dimple was well and truly panicked now, his breath coming as short panicked whimpers.

There was another terrible crackling sound as more of the ship was torn away. A wave tore over the deck, sweeping all four of them into the water.

They sank.

Down deeper and deeper they went, pulled under by the current, pieces of the ship drifting downward all around them. A faint green light illuminated the water when lightning flashed.

Down deeper they went…

As Xanthippe began to ponder her final moments, she saw strange figures in the flash of green light illuminating the water. Figures that looked like strange fish-ponies.

She pondered her final hallucination as her mouth opened against her will and she tried to draw air, flooding her lungs with water instead.

They drifted into the depths…

Next Chapter: Chapter 3 Estimated time remaining: 17 Minutes