I do not question how she found me, nor how she found her way into this cess pool of taint. I do not question why she follows me around, nor why she she seems to want something from me. She is here, and that fact is as unchanging as the fact the sun rises in the morning.

I am a gun for hire, a pony who is used to living on the side where there is no white. Instead, there is gray, and black.

There are no heroes in this story.