Author's Notes:

Quickly uploading this without a full proof-read because I have seven hours before work and I'm a bastard like that!

Expect mistakes and mis-steps galore!

This is Researcher Field Note, documenting day 73 of my field assignment. Being away from Canterlot for so long has given my spirits the rise they so desperately need. The quiet, and it’s accompanying splendor is doing wonders for my soul.

I have managed to stay on the tracks of the nomad human tribe I mentioned in my earlier notes; they seem to be taking cover within the vast viridian deciduous forest the locals call ‘Whitetail Woods’. After recasting my invisibility spell, I chanced closer to their camp around mid morning. I soon found my worst fears to be confirmed; Sojurn did not survive the tribes journey. He was quite ill when I last saw him, so it does not come to me as a shock. Winter is swiftly setting in, and as we are dangerously close to the Everfree; I highly doubt that Sojurn would have survived the cold in his pallid condition. As much as I wish I could have aided Sojurn, it is not my place to intervene. My work continues, despite their hardships.

Sojurn’s death has visibly reduced his mother Tanja’s will to go on. What is exciting, however, is that most of the tribe seems to be supporting her through the trial of a lost child. This phenomenon is rarely seen amongst humans, and even less so in true documentation.

There seems to have been a power shift in my absence; one I scold myself for missing. The brute, Algeron, seems to have regained his strength and has overthrown Aram as alpha. For reasons I can not understand as of yet, Aram still lives, as does his brother Molmir. It will be truly riveting to witness the coming attempts to regain power and dominance within the tribe between these powerful males. The tribe’s well-being hangs in the balance, and I will be here every step, documenting the fascinating intricacies of Nomad Human culture.

From the journal of Researcher Field Note

Rubbing his slightly chilly cheek, Field Note looked over the entry, scanning for errors and missed information. Finding it satisfactory, he brushed a length of his dull steel blue mane from his slitted eyes and looked towards the humans camped under a massive fallen tree. The rhythmic chirps and clicks that the tribe used for communication was terribly primitive, but it still caused Field Note’s tufted ears to flick and a soft smile to cross his muzzle as he found a more comfortable position to watch the humans from.

Algeron grunted aggressively at the ex-alpha, Aram, causing Field Note’s slitted auburn eyes to narrow slightly. His deep gray horn glowed softly, bringing up his notepad. The pair circled each other, snapping and snarling at each other like braying dogs. The smaller humans chirped and squawked in disapproval. As the pair grew more aggressive, nearing their peak before physical violence, a violent whip-crack echoed through the forest, and was followed by a howling scree. Woodland creatures scattered; birds took flight amidst cawing displeasure, and the human tribe froze in it’s tracks. Even the mighty Algeron hunkered down, and took cover near a large bough of the fallen tree.

Field Note held his breath, his senses on the razor’s edge in hopes of understanding what could send the forest into a fearful frenzy. Another whip-crack sounded, off in the distance. It was swiftly followed by a similar staccato rattle; one that caused young Blunda to start bawling into his mothers bare chest as the whip-cracks were responded to by a high pitched keening noise. Field Note managed a weak smile of approval as the matronly Akasha curled her arms around her young to protect him from what events shook the forest. Lifting his notepad up to start taking note of the occurrence, Field Note found himself shocked and terribly startled as a long cacophony of noise sounded out, before a shrill whistle that was followed by a concussive boom that echoed on and on.

Using the moment to mutter a rare curse, Field Note wiped the sweat from his winter chilled face. “What on Equis…”

___________________________________________________________

Jack cackled enthusiastically as bits of flash-cooked carapace landed around the forest next to steaming hunks of arachnid flesh. The barrel cowling of his rifle steamed, as it had threatened to turn cherry red when he’d turned the rifle’s power setting to full, and then had pinned the trigger down with vehemence. The lasers had danced off and cooked the VW bus sized spider’s thick carapace as it screeched and lunged at his armoured form with razor tipped legs. When Jack had smashed its left eye cluster apart with his boot heel, the creature had hurled him across the forest with the strength of a monster possessed.

Now, Jack didn’t have a fear of spiders, however, his human instincts had kicked into overdrive when the monstrosity had charged out of it’s hidey hole in the forest floor. That instinct had originally been ‘Run away as fast as possible, with optional screaming.’ Unfortunately for the rampaging spider, the Marine Corp had removed that particular instinct and replaced it with ‘KILL THAT FUCKER UNTIL IT’S DEAD’. And thus, Bus Spider had been introduced to the Russian made HEDP-22 ‘Krikun’ micro-rocket. The rocket had lept off Jack’s shoulder, and swiftly taught the brown carapaced monstrosity the meaning of both ‘High Explosive Dual Purpose’ and ‘Superior Firepower’. The end result was gruesome, gory, and utterly spectacular.

“HAAHAAhahah!!!” Jack laughed energetically as the bits of spider stopped raining down. Fuck you! He grinned, before his eyes fell on the trap door to the spiders nest. Edging towards the covered pit with his rifle at the ready; he toed the thatch out of the way. Peering over the edge, Jacks eyes went wide and his features twisted in surprised disgust as hundreds of smaller glossy black eyes stared up at him, unblinking. Without pause or thought of the woodland critter he’d been chasing for dinner; his right hand went to his webbing, and pulled a red banded cylinder free. Pulling the pin and letting the lever twirl away, Jack dropped the white phosphorous grenade down the hole; without a second though, he about-faced, and started a swift nope-march away from the hole, even as the grenade made a muffled ‘Fwoomp’ing sound. Chemical smoke and white hot flames burst from the entrance, along with the muffled skrees of the spider’s young.

As Jack marched away from the burning slaughter, his boots crushed the morning frost under tread. The cold winter air didn’t penetrate his armour, and inside he strode along as his heaters kept a well regulated temperature. As he threaded his way through the trees towards his home, Jacks mind began to wander in an attempt to ignore the painful throbbing that coursed through his body.

Who was that woman last night? I’ve never seen her before… Hmph… Never remembered a nightmare that vividly, come to think it. Jack sighed gently as his eyes flicked over his HUD read out within the helmet. His stomach grumbled aggressively, demanding his attention as it threatened to double him over. Oh god, fuck me…. He coughed weakly, and his armour VI advised him to seek medical aid. The notification was closed almost as soon as it opened. Gotta try and keep something down when I get back. A series of facial movements and twitches brought up the armours operations menu. A clench of the jaw, slightly to the left, locked the armour on his left arm, keeping it from jerking spasmodically. Would be so much easier with voice commands. He huffed quietly. Thank god for secondary options. He clicked the small dimple under his jaw using his chin, and thus locked the options down.

After several minutes of walking, he brushed the optical camo tarp aside, and walked into his home cave. Stripping out of the armour felt like shedding a second, massive skin. His exo disconnected with rapid clicks and snaps, and he was soon free to feel feeble and exposed. Rubbing his face wearily, Jack threw some of the last of his food onto the pan and slumped down against his log.

I hope I can keep this down, I don’t have enough left to put up with this bullshit…

____________________________________________________________________

The concussive boom had awoken Flitter with a terrible start; she bolted up in her bed, dislodging her art supplies and various in-progress pieces. She jerked her head around furtively in worry. “Jack?” She questioned softly to nobody in particular. After a moment of comparative silence, Flitter slowly crawled out of bed. Every single move she made caused her abused muscles to cry out and a quiet whine to escape from her. Setting her calloused hooves down on the soft cloud floor, she trotted over to her window to look out over the fields and towards Whitetail Woods.

Is it just my imagination, or is there smoke out there?

Flitter chewed her cheek thoughtfully, before tearing herself away from the window. She sighed quietly as she looked over her messy room and the disarray of artwork. A very large majority of it was of Jack, and his accommodations. Picking up one of the pieces of Jack’s expressions, she found herself smiling.

His expressions are so… Inequine. But he’s got almost as many as any pony. She added a bit of detail to his eyes; they seemed to hold her, even when on paper. The look of… prey, who became a predator. She smiled to herself, before titling the piece exactly that.

As Flitter was collecting her scattered artwork and pencils, she heard the door to the house slam, and angry noises echoed through the cloud home. Rolling her eyes at Cloud Chaser’s antics; Flitter finished cleaning up, and soon wandered downstairs to clean up.

Flitter’s hooves had scarcely been on the bottom floor for a moment before Cloud Chaser screamed. “Where the heck is rent Flitter!?” She came storming into the living room, her face flushed red. Flitter’s hackles rose slightly at the aggression, but she found with a bit of personal pride, that she wasn’t phased in the slightest. Cloudy is ‘all bark and no bite’ as Jack put it. Hell, Jack’s been rougher with me and he’s /playing/. A small sardonic grin spread easily across Flitters features as she about-faced and trotted back into her room to retrieve the small bag of bits that would pay for her ‘rent’.

By the time she’d grabbed the bag and started towards her door again, she could hear Cloud Chasers hooves pounding furiously up the steps. Cloud Chaser started her tirade the moment the door opened.

“FLITTER!! Where in the ever loving-” The mare’s eyes went wide and a squeaky wheeze escaped her lips as Flitter’s rent bag smacked her in the center of the chest. I’m glad Jack made me throw rocks for an hour yesterday. That felt /GOOD/. A giggly grin split across Flitter’s lip as she passed her startled sister.

“I’m going out for my run, see you tonight Cloudy!” She smacked Cloud Chasers shoulder a little bit rougher than was necessary, causing the mare to yelp a bit in surprise.

Turning to watch Flitter quick trot down the stairs, Cloud Chaser could only manage a weak and breathless. “O-okay… see you later…”

Flitter grinned happily as she spread her sore wings and took off towards Whitetail Woods. “Oh yes, today is gonna be great!” The mare giggled giddily to herself as she sailed with the cold pre-winter winds.

Alighting down onto the morning frosted grass field that lined the edge of Whitetail Woods, Flitter started toward the tree line with a brisk trot. While she could fly straight to the mouth of Jack’s home, he’d urged her to gallop, or ‘jog’ as he’d put it. She’d done so for almost a week; a week of blazing trails and leaping over fallen trees, but she could feel the changes in her body. Flitter smiled to herself as she ducked past a low hanging branch. I’d like to see any personal trainer in all of Equestria get better results. I wonder if all Terran Humans are like him. She scoffed lightly as her hooves treaded dirt and frost. I don’t think the universe could handle a billion Jack’s. The one I’ve got is enough of a trouble maker. Flitter grinned softly as she slowed her pace. She’d just galloped past one of Jacks boundary stakes, and she didn’t want to worry him.

Swallowing lightly, Flitter glanced around as she trotted through the woods. Celestia, it is really, really quiet here… Forest critters probably avoid Jack. Heh.

Without warning, something small scurried before her tracks. Flitter froze as the small human child paused in its playing to look up at her with wide, terrified eyes. The child stood slowly, and started backing away fearfully. Cocking a brow in confusion and slight worry, Flitter took a tentative step forward; the child chirped in fear before turning tail and pelting off into the woods. Watching the child flee, Flitter doubled her pace to reach Jack’s cave.

Pushing the tarp aside, she treaded cautiously into the cave. I hope he’s awake… I don’t like waking him up. Poking her head around the slight corner, she breathed a small breath of relief when she saw Jack sitting on his log, the fire crackling before him. He glanced up and cracked a smile, which was followed by a light wave and a pat on the log. Flitter smiled a little bit brighter, and took a seat next to him. “So! I got a little bit of revenge on Cloudy today.” She started as she glanced over the spartan portion within Jack’s pan. He turned his head toward her and cracked a toothy grin that was followed by an eyebrow wiggle and a roll of the hand; Body language for ‘Go on’, as Flitter had learned. She took a moment to sigh, before recounting her run in with her sister.

‘SNrK!” Jack bit his knuckle to keep himself from bursting out laughing; he failed to stop the amused snort. He looked over at Flitter with bright eyes and a broad grin.

“That’s my pony. Way to go.” Jack offered a closed fist to Flitter, who bopped it with her hoof as she giggled at the recollection. “I’m glad you’re standing up for yourself, but this only means one thing.”

Uh oh. Flitter blinked, and looked over at the now incredibly serious looking Jack. “W-what?” She stared at him, watching his facial expression shift from serious to mischievous.

“I’ve gotta teach you how to defend yourself.” Jack tapped away at his PDA, before setting it on his thigh so he could crack his knuckles for emphasis. The sound sent a tingling shiver down Flitters spine, but she didn’t show it.

“Defend myself? But… why?” Flitter cocked her head to the side slightly in confusion. Her eyes drifted to his left arm, which twitched occasionally and spasmodically. “Isn’t standing up for myself enough? I mean, I’ll learn anything you want me to, but I just-”

While Flitter had been talking, Jack had picked up his PDA again, and had been rapidly tapping out a rebuttal. “Because, when you finally stand up, there will always, /ALWAYS/ be some prick ass prick who wants to shove you back down onto your ass. I’m going to teach you how to grab anyone who wants to do that, break their arms, and make their face and the ground good acquaintances. Sound good?”

“Fu- Heh… Yeah!” She grinned, but it died a little when Jack shot her a disapproving look. “W-what?” Flitter blinked in confusion.

“Say it.” Jack continued to stare at her with his sunken, predatory eyes.

“Say what?” Shifting nervously, Flitter fought the urge to look away.

“Swear. Let it out. You’ll feel better.” He grinned lightly, and pulled his pan off the fire.

Blinking several times as the order rolled around in her head; Flitter swallowed lightly. “O-okay… F-fuck.” She planted her hooves around her mouth and blushed hotly. To her chagrin, Jack groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“Once more, with feeling.”

“I can’t!” She protested quietly; her wings fluttering lightly. Jack growled lightly, and his fingers danced across his PDA’s screen.

“Listen Flitter, there’s pent up aggression in there, I can see it. Use it. How did you feel when you saw that sack of shit fuck your sister? How did it make you feel?”

The question caught Flitter off guard, and caused her to cringe inwardly. Not meeting his gaze, she slumped slightly. “H-hurt… sad… m-mad…”

“Mad. You felt, mad.” Jack stared at her oddly, and his left hand was clamped tightly around the tough casing of the PDA. Flitter shifted and frowned heavily.

“Y-yeah. I was mad. He-”

“Did it piss you off? Seeing them screw around behind your back?”

He wasn’t waiting for her excuses. Flitter furrowed her brow and nodded. “Yeah. yeah it did. It made me pretty angry to see them doing that.”

Jack nodded, his brow furrowing as he kept staring at Flitter. “They thought you were stupid, weak, worthless. They thought, that even if you did find out, you wouldn’t be pissed right the fuck off.”

Flitter swallowed hotly. The burning shame she’d felt earlier had increased, but it had changed. It wasn’t shame anymore. It had lifted into her throat, and into her mind. The edges of her vision almost seemed to tint red. “They’re wrong. I am pissed off.” She grit her teeth a little, and Jack’s smile began to spread.

“Oh, you’re pissed off now. How pissed off are you, that your scum-fuck boyfriend is fucking your sister?”

“I’M PISSED RIGHT THE FUCK OFF!” Flitters hackles rose as she yelled at Jack. The human grinned ear to ear, and pumped a fist.

“Damn right you are. What are you gonna do, next time your pussy ass boyfriend tries to shmooze up next to you?”

“I’m gonna punch him in his fucking throat!” Flitter cried, the hot angry flowed through her like a drug. “I’ll drag his worthless hide through the mud, and beat him till ponies start calling him Bruisy!” Despite the heat coursing through her head, Flitter found herself grinning hard enough to match the soldier across from her. Jack nodded his approval, and bumped her extended hoof.

“Hell yeah sister. You’re gonna kick his worthless ass.” He took a breath, and straightened up. “Ain’t nobody gonna ever tread on you again. You’re gonna be a girl your Daddy woulda been damn proud of.”

His last words caused her breath to catch in her throat, and the fiery anger to simmer. She stared at Jack, who smiled back softly, before nodding to her. Flitter swallowed slowly, and nodded in return. “Yeah…” She smiled at Jack, and hoped he wouldn’t see how watery her eyes were becoming. “I’ll make my Dad proud of me.” To her surprise, Jack reached over, and scratched her between the ears with his calloused fingers. Flitter scooted over, and rested against his side. Jack rested his arm on her shoulder, and kept scratching her ears and head while he picked at his food with his free hand.

After a couple quiet minutes with Flitter rested against Jack’s side and his steady breathing and chewing, Flitter finally spoke as she wiped her eyes. “Thanks Jack… I really mean that…” She said softly as her ears flicked at the ministrations of his dexterous fingers. His hand broke off from her head for a moment to give her a supportive squeeze around the shoulder.

“We’re in this together Flitter. You and me.” He smiled softly, before finishing off his breakfast. He soon stood, and pulled on his well-worn military sweater. “No rest for the wicked. Come on Flitter. It’s time to get smoked.”

Hopping to her hooves, Flitter couldn’t help but grin hard enough to match Jack. “Bring it on Jack.”

______________________________________________________________

This is Researcher Field Note, documenting day 73 of my field assignment, Addendum One. I find myself more worried about the tribe now, as it seems that Whitetail Woods may be a more trafficked area than I had originally believed. Blunda had a close run-in with a local out for a trot. I wasn’t close enough to get a very good look at the encounter, which is bothersome. Alas, there is nothing I can do, or could have done. Thankfully, nothing of note happened to Blunda. What is strange, is that Akasha almost seemed to scold him for running off on his own while the tribe was occupied.

I’ve begun to set up a more lasting camp; one nestled up in the trees. Thankfully I still have the flight talisman that Chief Wandering Trot gave me, so I can touch the skies like the rest of my kin, and creating an above-ground camp makes detection much less likely. I managed to find a pair of tall trees that would give me satisfactory view of the general area, which I will use to my benefit.

Field Note paused in his writings to look down towards the human tribe. Algeron was abusing Gover and Kiara while the hunters are out; the sickly male and spritely female no match for the alphas towering bulk. Field Note furrowed his brow, and started writing again as he peered at them through his looking glass.

Algeron is proving to be a cruel bully; what is odd however, is he only abuses the smaller humans of the tribe when the hunters are gone. Does he fear they will kill him if they feel he goes too far?

Taking another pause, Field Note adjusted his spy glass to enhance the image before him; the quill floated just above the parchment as he worked. Tanja simply lay on her side, unmoving as always. Algeron shoved the frail Gover to the dirt; up in his suspended camp, Field Note could hear the fearful mewls of pain being emitted by Gover, and the rapid chirps and whistles being spoken by the others. The tiny scout Isotta bounded to her feet to stop Algeron as he pulled his hamfist back to strike Gover. Field Note winced in sympathy as she was smacked across the muzzle and sent to the ground.

“Oh Celestia, just leave it be Algeron…” Field Note groaned quietly as Algeron grabbed the much small female by the hair and pulled her close. I already know where this is going… He cringed as Algeron hunkered down over the fallen Isotta, who squawked and shrieked in protest. One of her flailing limbs struck Algeron across the jaw, and on reflex he mashed his fist into her face. The lithe scout went limp instantly, and the tribe went suddenly silent.

Gently pressing his hoof over his mouth, Field Note gasped quietly and blinked back surprise tears. “o-oh… oh dear… Algeron, what have you done?” Algeron gripped Isotta by her muddy red hair and pulled her up towards him- only to be interrupted by a sudden, shrill shriek of authority. Akasha stormed towards Algeron as the others mewled plaintively; beside her, the old alpha Arma, his brother Molmir, and the female huntress Dala. A storm of hisses, shrieking, chirps, and whistles followed. Field Note couldn’t help but take numerous notes of the events, but his eyes remained on the fallen Isotta. A small smile crossed his muzzle when Blunda snuck over to her and cradled her head. “I hope-” Field Note cut himself off when the small scout stirred weakly, only one of her eyes opening slowly. He breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled a bit more easily. “You’ll be fine Isotta, your tribe will protect you.” Field Note nodded to the tribe as Algeron backed off; thoroughly chastened, but visibly furious.

I believe that while Algeron is the Alpha, the tribe respects Aram and Akasha far more. They are treated as de facto leaders on important decisions, or when Algeron is not around. This tactic is fascinating, and I do hope to see much more of it in the times to come. If the tribe follows Algeron through the winter, I believe they will not survive. However, with Akasha and Aram running the show behind his back, they have a much better chance. Even if leadership weren’t an issue, they will still need better shelter, and a place further from civilization.

Setting down his quill to allow his magic a rest; Field Note sighed quietly and rubbed his eyes. He suddenly blinked owlishly, and pricked his ears at the sound of incredibly faint music playing off in the distance. Though he could barely hear it, it almost seemed to offend his higher senses with its musical belligerence. “That… what kind of music IS that?”

____________________________________________________________

The lead singer growled loudly into the mic about a legendary battle and the heroes within it as the band set out their heavy metal melody, all of which played through the speakers on Jack’s PDA. He gave Flitter a swift punt to the rear as she lagged through the impromptu obstacle course. Her muscles burned as lactic acid filled her veins from the exertion; the large, heavy pack that was strapped firmly to her back rattled and thumped with each step.

Don’t think about the rocks in the pack Flitter, focus on the path!

Flitter mentally coached herself as she jogged and weaved between the trees, the frosted ground crunching loudly beneath her hooves; the sound was nearly lost against the torrential pounding of blood in her ears and the bombastic music playing from Jack’s PDA.

Shit! Dive!

Flitter doves for the deck as Jack released the tree limb, which whipped over her at general chest level. Jack grinned in approval as she commando crawled like she’d been shown. The frost and dirt matted her coat and tinged her to look like the surrounding environment. Jack had bounded off ahead of her again, and was waiting at the end of the winding, torture-run. She skidded to a halt before his boots; her breath came raggedly and heavy as she looked up at Jack.

He smiled cruelly, and cut the song just as it was about to end.

“Nicely done. Now, pushups with the pack on, until the next song ends. Copy?”

She nodded, and pulled the straps a bit tighter. “Crystal!” She dropped down, and started pumping away as Jack started the next song. It was more aggressive than the first few, the singer practically screaming into the mic as Flitter grit her teeth in exertion. The twenty five kilo pack strapped to her wasn’t helping matters. She could feel every muscle in her upper body screaming for the pain to stop. Flitter ignored the screaming, and focused intently on the music and the crescendo that told her the end was near.

After what felt like hours, the song ended abruptly, and Jack gave a clap of approval. “Good. Now, drop the pack.”

Sighing happily in relief as the heavy pack clattered to the ground, Flitter stretched out and grunted as her limbs popped. She swiftly looked up at Jack for further instructions, but found him to be busy. Arching a brow, Flitter cocked her head in confusion as he pulled off his sweater and shirt. “Uhhh… J-jack?” She smiled weakly as she blushed a light red. “What’re you-”

“A fight for your life often comes at the worst possible time. Like when you’re so tired you think you could drop dead at any moment.” He cracked his knuckles, and sunk into an aggressive posture. Flitter blinked, and stared at him in surprise as she watched his numerous tattoos shift and bulge with his whipcord muscles flexed. “You’re going to try and hit me, and you’re going to try and stop me from hitting you.” He grinned at her, and tossed the PDA onto his sweater and shirt.

Swallowing back the bile her run had forced up into her throat, Flitter growled at Jack and mimicked his aggressive stance. I’m glad he’s not wearing his Exo. I suppose he wants this to be fair? The moment Flitter took to think was all Jack needed to weave forward and cuff her roughly upside the head. The mare reeled in surprise at the sudden smack, and swiftly failed to see the armoured boot speeding toward her. Instinct took over and she flinched away from the blow.

The next moment Flitter registered, she was tottering dangerously on her hind hooves, and her chest thumped painfully. Jack moved in for the kill; sweeping her legs out from under her as he drove her to the ground with a hand near her throat. The air was forced from Flitters lungs as she hit the ground hard, and Jack straddled her. He jabbed two fingers forward to her neck, but didn’t make contact. Looking down at the two fingers, Flitter had the fleeting realization they were hovering just above the major artery. Her eyes flicked up to Jack, who simply grinned in return, and prodded her nose with the two killing fingers that were meant to mimic a knife.

“Bah.” He chuckled to himself after the prod, and got off her chest as he pushed back a cough brought on by making a simple noise. Jack offered her his hand up; it was one she took. Flitter shook herself after having been pulled to her hooves. Shooting a glare at Jack, she found he’d sunken into his attack stance again, and was making a hand motion as if to say-

‘BRING IT ON.’

Flitter barred her teeth and flared her wings; she failed to keep the grin from spreading across her muzzle. “Come and get me if you think you’re hard enough Jackie.”

____________________________________________________________

Breathing hard through her open mouth; Flitters body was all bruises, scrapes, and dirt. Jack held her hoof, and brought it up and forward in a mimic strike. He helped guide her through the basic moves, all without speaking a word. A simple grunt, swat, or laugh was enough for the pair. Flitter smiled broadly as she mimicked the move she’d been shown; her hoof arced like lightning, and she followed through with a pair of kicks that she used her aching wings to aid. Jack nodded once, and clapped lightly. He walked back over to his sweater and grabbed his PDA.

“Last lesson for today. Headbutts.” He walked forward, and squatted before her. “A good headbutt will break your opponents nose, disorienting him and giving you the opportunity to follow up with something more deadly, or make an escape.” He grabbed her by the chin, and pointed to a point on her head. “This is the spot you hit them with. hit them here, with a motion like this.” He jerked his head downward in an arcing motion. “It’ll hurt, but it could save your life. Never be afraid to fight dirty Flitter. Remember that if you ever show up to a fair fight, you didn’t come prepared.” He ruffled her thoroughly ruined mane before going to pull his clothes back on.

Panting heavily, Flitter nodded and swallowed before looking up at him. Upon seeing his back fully, she furrowed her brow. “Jack, we’re did you get all those scars from?” She couldn’t help but wince as he suddenly tensed, and swiftly pulled his shirt back on.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now.” He glanced over at her, then back down to his PDA. “Besides. Don’t you work in a half hour?”

Flitters eyes went wide and she cursed roughly. “Shit! I gotta go wash up!” She fluttered her wings, and crossed the distance to give Jack a dirt covered hug around his barrel. He smiled lightly, and scratched her ears before shooing her off. Without much ceremony, Flitter pumped her burning wings for all they were worth and shot off towards her home.

Watching as Flitter disappeared into the distant skies, Jack waited until he couldn’t discern her coat from the mid-morning skies before turning back towards his home. A shock of pain coursed through his left arm and spread through his shoulder and chest. Forcing down the taste of bile in his throat, he wiped his dry lips and shook his head.

Focus.

The single word was repeated as he placed one heavy metal boot before the other and made his way to where he kept his water. Failing to keep his balance as his head swam, Jack shook his head again and blinked rapidly to try and dispel the sparkling stars that swam before his eyes. He reached out hamfistedly, knocking over several empty bottles until he found his canteen. The creek water tasted faintly of iron, but it was ignored blatantly as Jack lifted the canteen and drank greedily from it’s mouth. The water splashed out around his cracking lips and onto his heaving chest. Unable to swallow anymore, he retched forward and started coughing roughly as his left arm shivered violently.

He shuddered, and clenched his eyes shut as if the swirling black could block out the pain. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was the remaining bottles of hard alcohol he’d borrowed from the restaurant.

Kill it. Kill it with fire.

He grabbed at one of the bottle with clumsy hands, and struggled to open the top. Snarling angrily, he smashed the lid off with his K-bar. The razor edged combat knife stayed clutched in his vice-like hand as he brought the bottle up to his lips and let the burning liquor spill down his throat and chin. The fire coursed down his throat and into his stomach, where it spread through his veins. The pain didn’t abate in the slightest; instead a vacant, psychotic expression crossed his features as he slowly looked down at his jerking left arm and the titanium plugs that dotted it. His eyes slowly flicked to the knife in his other hand, and his thoughts wandered back to words a scientist had spoken when he was being put through the Longbow Program.

These skeletons require a direct link to the wearers body, which is achieved through these titanium-housed tantalum bio-connectors. We will be replacing almost all of your tendons and ligaments with a lab grown bio-steel, so your body will be able to keep up with the herculean feats of the Longbow Exo-skeleton. Unfortunately, the surgeries are incredibly complicated, and have a dangerously high risk factor, as well as the remote possibility of longevity issues. Of course, if any issues arise, you all will have a truly expert staff on hand to render any and all aid possible.

Jack shuddered at the memory, and one phrase continued to echo around in his head.

Longevity issues

Snarling with fury, Jack pressed the tip of the blade against the edge of the plug.

Longevity issues my fucking ass. I’m dying because those fuckheads made me into a goddamn metal monster.

He grit his teeth together tightly, before closing his eyes slowly as the tip of the knife dug a little furrow into his flesh, drawing a line of bright crimson blood.

Focus. Focus Jack. Focus.

Slowly, he pulled the blade away from the plug, and thumped his head against the rock wall before him. Features twisting in sorrow and pain; he thumped his head against the wall and crumpled until his head was against the rock floor. After several long moments, he slowly opened his eyes, and turned towards his pile of gear. At that moment, he saw his modified chest rig, with it’s payload still inside. He blinked, before cursing his stupidity.

IDIOT. I need to find a place to bury that damn thing… I can’t leave a two megaton bomb just laying around… Fuckfuckfuck.

He shuddered and rolled so he was sitting against the wall.

I need to get my shit straight. I’m nearly out of food, I’m almost out of water, I’m probably dying because of some stupid bulllshit, there’s some random ass band of people camping in my turf and I have a fuckhuge bomb sitting by my cot.

Dying.

Am I dying?

I don’t think I’m dying. It kinda feels like it, but I’ve felt worse…

He furrowed his brow, and took another drink from the bottle. He scoffed at it, before setting it aside.

No. I’m not dying. I refuse to die like /this/. I go out on my own terms.

He set his jaw, and nodded to himself. A sardonic grin spread across his drawn features. He moved over to his bed, and pulled off his heavier clothes. Kicking his feet up, he did his best to rest up for when Flitter returned.

I’ll talk to her. She can help.

He clamped his right hand over his other wrist, locking it in place. Just as his eyes closed for his brief power nap, his plugs started to itch, and his eyes opened in annoyance.

Fuck right off.