I found my clothes locked up in an evidence chest in the guard hall. The long rectangle room had a small office with what was now a busted lock, keeping a few bits of equipment and files somewhat safe. "Ridiculous." I pulled my boots on and stomped my foot. The bat pony I was with jumped slightly as the heavy thud tapped out against the room. I made sure I was tucked and wrapped up to go back. I had to keep moving, the moment I stopped would be the moment I started to think. I had to focus on moving, on keeping ready for my walk back to war.

It would come, I would get home, and when I did I had to be ready. I turned to the night watchman. "What the fuck are you doing? Run."

The pony scratched the ground. "We're not allowed to use the--"

I reached into the chest and found my rifle. The post-soviet piece of shit was still broken, but a bayonet was a hell of a motivator. "I said run." I held my rifle ready and jabbed it towards him. "Run!" I kicked the wall next to the guard as he scattered away. "Get on that fucking track!" He scrambled out into the main room and over the desks towards the door outside.

"Hey hey-- no!" He slammed wither first into the door, bouncing off with a heavy thud.

I walked out, slowly fixing my coat and getting ready to chase him. "You'd really better hope they find a way to send me home before I'm done with you." I held my rifle low and got ready to run. "You've got about five until I shove this right into your lung!"

The pony slammed himself up against the door a few more times, trying desperatly to open it without using the doorknob. "No! Hey that's not funny!"

I nodded. "I'm not trying to be funny." I started walking towards him. "Open that door."

The stallion slammed himself against the door two more times before laying down before me. "Hey! Think, I helped you--"

I walked up before him, hanging my rifle over his side. "That armor should stop a knife, right? In theory at least, I mean that's what it's for."

The stallion's eyes were wide, his chest heaving under his tin armor. "Please don't."

I dawned a rather horrid grimace and raised my rifle. "You should have opened the fucking door!" I made a big show of pretending to get ready to stab him. He flinched hard and pushed his hooves up to defend himself. I reached past him and opened the door into the cold night. The moon was slowly rising in the distance, lighting up the edges of everything with a pale silver. "Get the fuck outside." I lowered my voice, I wanted to scare him but I couldn't help but feel I went a bit too far at some point."

The yard was a massive walled off court, sporting a standard sized track and a few open areas with snow covered grass or sand laid down for training. A fancier version of what I'd trained with, but nothing I couldn't figure out. The only thing that felt odd was the walls themselves, white and ornate, far too elegant for the under-trained ponce I was stuck with.

The bat pony opened his eyes and looked around. He leaned his head up towards the door and grew a deep frown. "It was unlocked, wasn't it?"

"Getting stabbed is scary, right?" I pulled my rifle against my shoulder, bayonet pointed up. "Almost like it makes you panic." I tapped the broken magazine back into place. "I mean, I wouldn't know anything about that...I'm just an asshole." I snarled to no one and stepped over the stallion. "God damn bullshit...."

The stallion righted himself and stepped out after me. "Um, I wasn't saying anything--"

I turned to him and pointed up at him, my arm hooked upward with finger upraised. "Oh but you fucking thought it!" I leaned towards him and stared as hard as I could. "You fucking thought it.... Now run." I leaned in further. "That wasn't a question."

The stallion's ears went flat. "Can I--"

"Fucking run!" I shoved him back with my knee and pulled my rifle up. "You run until you fucking drop!" I stabbed the ground before his armored hooves. The thunk was extremely satisfying, the dirt soft but still resistant to stabs.

"Shit!" The stallion reared up and scrambled back. He bolted away from me, running over the grass and onto the dirt path that ran around the massive yard.

I followed after him, my boots landing heavily against the solid ground. "Oh boy, not even mud. Not even mud!" I chased after the stallion as he ran clinking and clanking across the straight. "You're not running!" I hurried after him, my muscles finally achieving the use they so desired. "I swear to god I catch you I'm going to beat you to death!"

The stallion kept looking behind him, occasionally turning around to make sure I wasn't too close. "I can just-- Stop it!" He scrambled away as I drew in. "I can do this without--"

"You're not running!" I picked up the pace and jogged down the path. My stripped down frame felt extremely light, there was zero reason this horse couldn't outrun me. "This isn't a game!" I slung my rifle over my shoulder and sprinted over to the stallion. "You think I want to be here!?" I bounced forward and jammed my foot against his ass, kicking him forward slightly and causing him to run. "Consider this incentive! Get me home or so help me god I'll make this place a fucking warzone!"

The cold winter night was setting in. The air was perfectly clear. The pony was finally gaining some speed and keeping ahead of me. I slowly let off and stepped to the side of the track, watching the half armored horse run laps. I settled in and watched, enjoying the physical exertion however brief. "You run until you drop! You don't stop until you can't run anymore!"

The pony zipped around the bend and back over to me. He kept quiet and just kept running. He had the resolve of tinfoil. I rubbed my eyes as the pony ran round and round. Seeing the untrained colt sprint along brought up bad memories. Days spent digging pits and getting ready for the shells to fall.

A few more dark ponies had started to walk in or fly towards the yard. They settled down on the side and started talking amongst themselves. I kept to myself and kept watching. I didn't know why I thought it would distract me, all watching this thing run seemed to do was stir up more turbulence. I felt sick, the twisting in my gut only growing as I tried to recant the day, even the hour.

A loud laugh pulled me out of my funk. The ponies that had wandered in were starting to shout and yell at the running stallion. "Hey, come on, you get gingered again!?"

I tapped my fingertips against my rifle and grabbed the handguard. "How'd this even happen!? You got outsmarted by a monkey!?"

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to watch it drift away. I started to walk over as the group started laughing at my runner. I drifted back into the moment, the laughs and voices growing more and more annoying as I closed in. I stepped before the group and looked them over. "...Run."

I needed to keep my mind on the movement. More running couldn't hurt. Next Chapter: Shear Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 39 Minutes