Despite the odds, Flitter found herself braving the snowstorm with her sister to reach the spa before they both froze solid. The winds were growing much colder than planned; this winter was sure to be a rough one for some.

Jack included. Flitter found her mind drifting back to him like a bad habit. Cloud Chaser dogged at the topic with hopes of dredging up every little detail she could. It's to keep me from asking about this booky she's so afraid of. She found herself frowning, even as they reached the decorative doors of the spa. Stepping inside was almost a complete shock in on itself; the entire place was toasty and very warm. The twins smiled at the pair from behind the counter. If the empty clothing racks were any hint, the spa was dead and nearly empty.

"Welcome!" Both twins spoke and smiled in tandem. "How can we help you today?"

Naturally, Cloud Chaser took the lead as she finished shrugging off her stylish winter clothes. "Afternoon you two. I'm bringing Flitter in for the birthday special!" Cloudy smiled broadly and confidently. She seemed quite pleased with herself as the twins cooed their happiness towards Flitter. As expected, Flitter flushed at the attention and acted abashed. It wasn't long before the pair were left alone in the sauna; soft towels wrapped around their bodies.

Flitter sighed quietly and spread out on the bench; her wings splaying out lazily as the steam worked into her aching muscles and bruised flesh. Cloudy laid down next to her, and promptly started her question period. "Sooo, what's he look like?"

A quiet groan escaped Flitter as she glanced up at Cloudy from her seated position on the hardwood bench. After a moment, she relented, rolled onto her back and poked her hooves skyward. "Well, he's really tall for one, like, ridiculously tall. He's got a short black mane, and is really strong. He’s… also kind good looking, I think..."

"Oooh! Tall, dark, aaand handsome!" Flitter's sister giggled openly despite the look Flitter shot at her. She rolled her hoof and smiled down at her younger sister. "Well, go on. I wanna hear all about this stallion of yours."

Coughing sheepishly, Flitter flopped onto her side as she turned her gaze downwards and pawed at the wood bench. "He's umm... Not really... Mine..." But he could be...

"What!? Flitter, don't tell me you're letting a catch like that slide through your hooves!" Cloud Chaser gripped Flitter by her shoulders and gave her a shake. "Come on girl! You gotta give chase!" The way Cloud Chaser spoke, it sounded like the easiest thing in the whole world to do. Maybe it is?

Flinching away, Flitter couldn't help but feel like she was missing out on a real opportunity. Her heart ached as she mulled over the topic with unease. "I... I can't Cloudy. He doesn't see me like that, and-" Does he? With the treats, he was ready to go… maybe if I just work at it, he’ll come around.

"And what? Is he a coltcuddler or some gross shit?" Cloudy flapped her wings as she made a face of minor disgust. "Though the Sandies don't really accept that kind of thing... That might explain why he's here!" Cloud Chaser exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Flitter rolled her eyes before dumping some more water on the sauna's coals. "He's not gay Cloudy. He was married to a mare before and she hurt him." She didn’t know how lucky she was. What a bitch...

Cloudy snorted derisively, before prodding Flitter's side. "Just don't let him slip away. You can do way better than Goldie." Her sister smiled broadly at her, but it seemed plastic compared to her usual beaming confidence.

Clenching her jaw at the use of her soon to be ex's name; Flitter nodded solemnly. "Yeah. I can." Out of the corner of her eye, Flitter watched as Cloud Chaser's features turned regretful. Something was blatantly on the older mares mind.

Despite everything that's happened... Cloudy, just come clean. I know everything. For a moment, Flitter simply wished that her thoughts would reach out and convince her sister to speak of what was on her mind. Unfortunately, they didn't. A sly, confident smile spread across the older mares features as she looked over at Flitter. The look was quickly subdued however, and Cloud Chaser let her gaze slide down slowly to her hooves. "I gotta make the payment tomorrow night. Do you.. Do you think you can help?" Cloudy pawed lightly at the wood bench and kept her features downcast.

A quiet sigh sounded out from Flitter as she nodded. "Of course. How much is the payment?" Way to avoid a topic Cloudy. You’ll fess up eventually. Flitter narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, before forcing herself to look normally at her sister.

"It's... Seven hundred... I already have four hundred and fifty! I'm just two-fifty shy." Cloud Chaser tapped her hooves together sheepishly and smiled. "I think they'll be cool about me being short fifty or so, and I'll definitely be able to make the next payment, Weather Crew has a ton of overtime coming up."

Shaking her head, Flitter mutely cursed the position their mother had forced them into. If only Dad hadn’t gone and gotten killed, this wouldn’t be happening… Oh Celestia, did I really just think that? Flitter shook her head and bit her tongue roughly as punishment for the thought. "I've got the two fifty Cloudy, don't sweat it. I'll even go with you, to make sure everything works out."

"Are..." Cloud Chaser's features sank, her sheepish smile being replaced with serious worry. "Are you sure you wanna do that? I mean, maybe you should just talk to your coltfriend and see what he says?" Her smile was weak and hollow.

"Yes, I'm sure Cloudy." Flitter felt the niggling tail of indignance worming its way into her mind as Cloud Chaser mouthed 'okay' and looked away. I'm tough enough now to handle a couple of thugs on my own. I'm not some clueless sidekick. Besides, I'm sure Jack is busy doing... Whatever.
____________________________________________________________________________

"What's on your mind Field?"

The stallion blinked owlishly as he looked back over to the heavy metal man who treaded beside him through the snow. "I wasn't.... How could you tell?" Not being able to see the humans face made him uncomfortable; the sheer scale and outlandish appearance of the powered armour sent goosebumps through his flesh every time he gazed upon it. Striking alien devices hung off the armours equipment webbing; assorted explosive devices, his sidearm, ammunition, and a heavy duty AT Mag charge made it seem like Jack was going to war.

Jack snorted lightly inside his helmet as he turned his gaze back towards the researcher. He cradled his rifle across his chest; the strap hanging loosely off his shoulder."You keep glancing at me and chewing your cheek. So talk."

Field nodded and floated his paper pad before himself. "When we were speaking earlier, I noticed a couple of interesting items, and I wanted to ask you about them. If that's alright with you of course." He smiled as confidently as he could, but soon found it folding in upon itself like cheap lawn furniture when that cyclopean gaze returned to regard him.

Jack’s gruff electronic voice sounded lukewarm at best regarding the idea, but it was impossible to tell his feelings on the matter when his helmet covered all of his features. "Fire away horseman."

Sputtering with indignance, Field lowered his head and flattened his ears against his head. "I'm... I'm not a whorse... Rude..." As Jack strode along, he crushed a small log under his heavy boots as if it were nothing. Field cringed at the thought of anything living finding itself under those boots, including himself.

Coughing out a laugh, Jack's head tilted toward field once again. "Are you serious? You guys took whore and turned it into whorse?" Jack suppressed a snickering laugh. "Alright, my bad. How bout I call you Bojack from now on?"

“Buh- N-no! What kind of name is Bojack anyhow!? It sounds terrible.” The stallion shook his head and pouted; his misery being doubled by Jack’s enthused laughter. “It’s not funny! Let’s… Let’s get back on topic.” Flipping through his notes and crude sketches, the stallion forced a smile when he found what he was looking for. “Ah, here we go. You have two necklaces, one with some sort of stamped circular disk. What’s on the disk?”

“It’s an oval. There’s supposed to be two, but I gave up the second when I took my last mission. They’re dogtags, meant to identify my body when I bite it. Also contains my blood type, serial number, and religious preference. Burial purposes.” Jack stopped for a moment and swivelled his head about. It seemed random, but his grip on his rifle had subtly changed; making the weapon ready for combat. Field froze alongside the human, but his quill continued to scratch away. After a tense moment, Jack relaxed again, and began his plod once again.

Swallowing nervously as he looked around the snow covered forest, the stallion had to force his mind back on track. “Religious preference? Is that what your second necklace is for? The cross? It’s the only thing that comes to mind for me, forgive me if I’m-”

“You’re not wrong. Yes, I’m religious. Or, I was more so at one point I suppose. The cross was a gift from my Mom before my first deployment. She said ‘God will keep you safe’. Personally, I think he took one too many piss breaks, cause my buddies did a way better job than he did. Wasn’t enough. Never was.” Jack’s voice faded, blocking out one particularly vulgar, violent thought that had threatened to break out into speech.

Taking the momentary silence as an opportunity, Field looked up at Jack as they paused and quirked a brow. “So would you consider yourself non-religious then? I’ll admit, I have my reservations about such things, but learning about alien religions would be a whole new world for Ponykind.”

Unlike his earlier, faster reactions, Jack’s response was a long time coming. Just as he set forward to the human camps outer perimeter, he spoke. “I don’t know what I am anymore.” Field was never given a chance to respond, as Jack broke through into the clearing with the roaring fire.

The humans acted how Field had assumed they would. There were myriad terrified screeching, yelps, and crude spears aimed to threaten Jack's armoured form. Jack stopped where he was, and gripped his helmets release latches. A muted hiss filled the uncomfortable silence as he pulled the helmet free, and immediately scratched rapidly at the little metal plug at the base of his skull. Now able to see his face, the tribe visibly calmed, and assumed a more curious outlook to the Outlander. They slowly crowded around, chirping and whispering between each other as Jack smiled, and let his rifle hang loose in its sling. Field Note watched as Algeron did his best to hide himself away; the gashes and terrible bruising still vibrant on his ruined face. Returning his attentions to the gathering of humans, Field cast his invisibility spell, and cautiously treaded up next to Jack. "Jack? I'm going to climb onto your back. I'll tell you their names." The armoured human turned his head toward Field, and gave him a slight nod of confirmation.

With the small stallion soon huddled on his back, Jack returned his attentions to the group of nomads. Field spoke quietly in his ear as the supposed matron of the group approached him slowly. "That's Akasha. She's a very intelligent human, by our old standards of course." Akasha outstretched her hand, gingerly poking, and then stroking his breastplate. Her hand trailed upwards, and cupped his bearded cheek. As Jack perked a brow at her, she withdrew her hand and chirped at the others. Surprisingly enough, the group dispersed, and returned to their huddle before the manticore fur hut, close to the fire.

Surprising both Jack and Field Note, Akasha grabbed one of his armoured hands and started leading Jack towards the group. Obliging the strange woman, Jack eyed the group, and was fed names and a blurb of information by Field. After a short moment, Akasha gestured for him to enter the ad hoc hut. Doing so, the first thing Jack noticed was the stench, and then the sight of two sick humans.

"That's Gover and Tanja. Tanja’s son Sojurn died during the trip here. She hasn't been well since. Gover's body is failing, unfortunately..." Field maintained his grip on Jack's combat webbing; a pair of laser rifle magazines served as hoof rests for his slight body. Jack approached the pair of sick humans with caution; the male, Gover, shied away and keened quietly in protest as his personal space was invaded by Jack’s armoured bulk. Jack cringed as he looked over the wretched man. Oh god… you poor bastard… Gover's ribs were prominent through his pale flesh; his skin looked as if it was simply stretched thin over his bones. His cheeks were sallow, and his stomach was disturbingly concave. Jack tore his gaze away from the rail thin man; but the hollow eyes followed him. The woman, Tanja, seemed marginally more healthy, if only slightly. She pulled her knees up against her chest and almost seemed to shrink visibly under his gaze. Her foot looks a little jacked up… I’ll have to take a look at it. See what I can do for the both of them.

Backing away from the small fur hut, Jack looked over towards the tribes matron. Akasha stared at him for a moment; her eyes drilled deep into his own with surprising severity. She then pointed to the meager pile of semi-preserved meats frozen in the open snow. Hardly enough to last a couple days for this many mouths. Jack set his mouth into a hard, flat line, before nodding once to Akasha. He knew what she wanted, what the tribe needed. My tribe, I suppose. Since I stomped the last chief. Weird. Oh well! With a small flourish, Jack popped his helmet up from under his arm and caught it so he could plunk it swiftly down onto his shaggy head. The seals hissed and the ghosts of his HUD shimmered over his eyes. Jack clenched his teeth as the probe burrowed into his skull and into his mind.

"God I fucking hate that. Gah." Jack shook his armoured hands loosely, before shouldering his rifle. "Which ones are the hunters Field?" He scanned over the tribe, which was eying him with slight caution and open curiosity as his gruff electronic voice reached out too them.

The stallion on his back sounded slightly muffled, if only from his positioning. "Those three. Dala, Aram, and Vele." Field shifted on Jack's back; he felt incredibly uncomfortable being so close to the tribe, but at the same time exhilarated. Field jumped when a short whistle sounded from Jack's helmet, and he pointed at the three hunters. He then jabbed a finger at the food pile, then gestured jerkily for them to follow. To Field Note's incredulous surprise, the hunters seemed to understand him; jumping up and grabbing their crude flint spears to use during the hunt.

Aram grunted something, and took the lead directly behind Jack's armoured bulk. Smiling to himself, Field stealthily jotted down as many notes as he possibly could fit into the page. Jack leads like a natural, and the nomads follow him without hesitation. Perhaps they share more than they realize? Only time will tell. For now, I will get to witness firsthoof human hunting techniques, and the exact ramifications of having a highly intelligent alpha. It is with high hopes that I say that the tribe may very well just survive the winter, if not thrive under Jack's leadership.

"Which way to the Manticores, Field?" Jack's rumbling electronic voice shook the stallion from his revelry; forcing his attentions back down into the present cold.

"Erm... Perhaps the Everfree? It's due south from Whitetail woods, but it's very dangerous." Field shifted, his position becoming incredibly uncomfortable as Jack walked. Unfortunately, moving to the point of getting off would break the spell, in which it would be likely that the nomads would look to him for their next meal. Thus, he stayed rooted right where he was, with the combat webbing digging deep into the soft underside of his hooves, and the sharp edges of the armour's collar digging into his flesh.

Jack turned his heading south, following his compass. For an hour they marched through the snow; Jack with his relaxed shoulders and ever consistent stepping, and the hunters with their hurried shuffle and constant chattering to fill the empty space. Eventually, the trees grew thicker, the snow lighter. Daylight struggled to break through the canopy, and the forest took on a more sinister aura. Field shivered, despite his heavy winter barding. The Everfree was no place for a sunday hike, that was for sure. Despite everything, Jack continued onward; his rifle stock now tucked into his shoulder, it’s barrel relaxed toward the ground. The trio of hunters made a point to close the small gap between them and their new leader. In the distance, a terrible screech was met by an echoing roar. Without warning, Jack held up a closed fist, and knelt down. The hunters immediately clammed up, and mirrored him with startling speed. Field was about to question why Jack had stopped when the human twisted, and unhooked the compacted form of his UAV. Blinking with surprise, the stallion quirked a brow in curiosity as Jack tossed the device up in the air. A suppressed yelp of fear sounded out from Field and the hunters as the UAV sprang open mid-air and buzzed away quietly before them. The quad-drone bobbed for a moment, before gaining altitude. It began slowly circling the group; it’s faint buzzing was drowned out by the eerie sounds of the Everfree.

“Eyes are up. If the drone picks up anything that’s not us, I’ll know about it.” Without another word, Jack stood and rolled his neck. The drone followed the group, uncaring for the worried looks four of the five cast its way as it slowly circled overhead like a bird of prey. The forest began closing in on the trail, choking all but the most hardy of light from view. Then, the smell hit them. The smell of death, and decay. Field shivered, and tapped Jack's helmet.

"Jack? Something isn't right..." The stallion had to shift his grip as his mount came to a sudden stop.

"No movement detected. What's up." His armoured form turned to regard the hunters, who were all gathered up as close as they could get to him. Their chatter had died as soon as they'd smelled the stench; they were cautiously eying the thicket surrounding them, spears at the ready.

Field leaned forward. And failed to suppress a shiver of fear. "I-I think we may have strayed near an infected den... If they catch a whiff of any of us, they'll swarm..."

"Right. Think I found them. We're upwind from them, so we should be alright." No sooner than when he finished the sentence, the wind changed, blowing their scent straight into the den. A low, echoing scream floated on the air, and continued to build as additional mouths added to the carrion call.

"Field, get off my shoulders. Take cover, and keep quiet." The small stallion was only too happy to oblige as he slowly descended down Jack's back; moving to a small bunch of scrub for cover from the coming storm. The scream grew into a warbling howl; the sound of a mob crashing through the underbrush overtook the forests normal sounds. The hunters paced and murmured amongst themselves with increasing agitation, while their colossal leader squared his shoulders and brought his weapon to bear. "Twenty plus foot mobiles. Drone engaging."

The rapid cracking of gunfire echoed through the trees, and was met by frustrated howls. Onwards the horde pressed, unabated by the numbers lost to the drone's lancing beams. They soon became visible through the trees; their bodies twisted amalgamations of the human form. Black puss weeped from their skin and eyes as they charged forward, heedless to the danger. "Fifteen metres. Twelve." Jack hunkered his form down, and his left shoulder pauldron sprang open. At ten metres, a rocket erupted from his shoulder, and the world in front of the small hunting party exploded into bloody chaos. The rocket flowered at point blank range and spread apart, shredding the infected from ranks with high explosive shrapnel and blowing massive rents from the twisted trees around them. Jack's rifle cracked and snapped as he tracked from target to target; every infected killed at range was one less to fight hand to hand. His hunters hooted and hollered savagely as white hot beams sheared limbs and cauterized gaping holes within the putrid flesh of their enemy. The drone buzzed by overhead, its small weapon glowing orange as it automatically tracked and fired on its targets. Despite the hail of shrapnel and laser fire, five of the infected charged through rifle range, and closed in with teeth and claws.

Field stared on, wide eyed with fear and excitement as the hunters pistoned their crude spears out, forcing the putrid unclean ones onto the sharp flint heads. Jack's rifle was thrown over his shoulder; he leapt before the bulk of the surviving infected to keep them from the unarmoured hunters. The leading infected made the mistake of moving forward; it caught a blistering right hook that pulverized its skull for its efforts. The boot stomp to the back of its skull was like an after thought, and the last thing to go through its wretched mind.

With a bellowing roar, Jack pounded his bloody gauntlet against his chest; issuing a challenge the fungus addled monsters couldn't resist. They threw themselves at him with reckless abandon, only to be dashed against titanium, ceramic, and cold dirt. What had started as a battle against pitched odds ended as a blood bath.

Jack huffed and shook a bit of bloodied scalp from his knuckles as Field slowly crawled from his hiding place. Without warning, Jack let out a short snorting laugh and swung his rifle forward. "Mediocre." He fired once for every infected left clinging pitifully to life; the shot ending their suffering permanently.

When he finished, the hunters stood tall and hefted their spears upwards. The leader hunter, Aram, let out a victory cry. "Urah!"

The other hunters echoed it, chanted it. When Jack joined in, he hefted his rifle above his head the same way they did their spears and roared: "URAH!"

"Urah!"

"URRAAAH!"

Field slowly stepped back as the humans celebrated their victory. The closest thing he'd ever seen to smiles on Equis humans spread across the hunters faces, and he was doubly sure that the Terran was grinning like a lunatic. When the hunting party regrouped and treaded forward, the Everfree gave them a wide berth. The unfortunate Manticore that attempted to make a meal out of them was put down with resounding ease as Jack and his Hunters moved as a unit. The great beast fell, and was dragged back to the encampment by the hunting party. Field followed as best he could, now unable to perch upon Jack’s back due to the heavy load. His notes were beginning to fill the pages edge to edge.

Today I have witnessed something terrifying, and extraordinary. Terran firepower. A group of some twenty infected humans flooded to us; a number even a highly trained Royal Guard unit would be ill advised to engage on superior terms. Jack did not hold back. He possesses some form of weapon that he stores in his shoulders. It appears much more violent than the surgical precision of his rifle. What worries me the most despite his ever growing arsenal, is how his attitude and mannerisms change so swiftly. Normally he is a fairly agreeable man with a stunning number of intricacies for one of his profession, if not for his vulgar vocabulary, but in combat he seems to be a completely different animal. He becomes like a machine. A Man-Machine killer, with ice cold blood and a head for fighting. He shows no remorse, no restraint. How do I describe it with words? They do not do it justice. Princesses guide me, I’m afraid of him. I imagine a world, full of men and women like him. Worse than him. Better. It terrifies me. These killers have perfected their art. I believe Jack to be a macabre artist of sorts; despite my terror, I could not help but feel compelled as I watched him massacre the infected in a ghoulish dance of death. Instinct tells me that it will not be the last time I see him spill blood.

I only pray that it will not be Equine blood that he spills next. Only Miss Flitter seems to keep him calm, centered. I must make sure that it stays that way. When the time is right, I will alert the princesses of his presence. They must be warned.