The sun beat down heavily, cresting just above the sky. Firing scorching rays upon Rarity and her compatriots. Sweat drenched her face as she traversed the White Barrens. The white sand heated her feet, she now regretted her choice of footwear. Her feet had grown damp after hours of trekking through the bleak wastes near the edge of Equestria, from sweat and blood that seeped from sores that had grown on the souls of her feet.

Her iron definitely did not help in cooling her off either. She could feel the heated metal of her sidehammers with each step, singing her skin with every movement.

Shining Armour was quiet and passed out. The blood loss had finally gotten to him, after that she treated the wounds with torn cloth from her old shirt and some alcohol she had found in the wreckage of the Dirthouse, which from her estimate was two or three miles behind her.

Rather than madden herself from staring at the snow like sand ahead of her for another minute, she gazed over at Bethany that dragged Pinkie along. Rarity offered some of Pinkie’s extra clothes, as they were the closest in size, and she seemed to wear it fine. It would not have been a first choice for Rarity to give such dirty clothing to her, but they had very little options at the moment.

Bethany had been silent throughout most of the trek, more than likely she was trying to either accept her new situation or ponder her next move.

In an attempt to break the silence, Rarity asked her young still conscious companion, “So, darling, how are you holding up?”

Drawing Bethany out of her day dreaming, she responded, “Hm?...Oh, um, not bad.”
The few hours they were walking had down wonders to her earlier skittishness, likely brought on from the magical fatigue of literally be used as a mana battery. The very thought of which disgusted the gunslinger.

Rarity nodded her head, chiding, “That’s excellent to hear.”

Bethany mused, “So you and your friend are trying to bring down the Pie family from their criminal network?”
“Mainly Lilith,” Rarity replied, shifting the weight of her rifle and Shining Armour, on her shoulder, “But yes, we are going to kill the Pies and all their connections. We aim to wipe them from the history books.”

Bethany grunted, trying to keep pace with Rarity. Pinkie was not heavy by any stretch of the imagination, but after hours of walking one only thinks about resting and nothing more.
Bethany piped, knitting her brow as she looked over at the gunslinger, “So, what did you do before all this?”
Without breaking stride, Rarity cocked an eyebrow and responded, “What do you mean?”
“Well,” Bethany mused while looking at the ground, “You don’t walk like a gunslinger, at least not yet anyways. There is elegance in your steps, undaunted vanity. I mean no offense of course.”
“No, it’s quite alright darling.” Rarity gestured with her free hand. Telling Bethany to pause in their track, she needed to sit down for a little bit if they were going to continue.

Bethany nodded, they had found a small gathering of rock that provided some much needed respite for the travelers.
Rarity rested Shining Armour against the far side rock, grunts roused from the unconscious soldier offering a cruel smile from the gunslinger. Bethany did the same with Pinkie, stretching her arms above her head.

Rarity sat in the shade, sighing in relief as the shade cooled her warmed flesh. Taking off her flats, Rarity massaged the souls of her feet trying to ease the pain. Biting her lip as a sharp pain shot through the flat of her feet, easing over time.

Bethany joined next to her, sitting down folding her legs close to her body. She looked over at Rarity expectantly, awaiting for her to answer. Her innocent sky blue eyes twinkling in the shaded sun’s light.

Her answer did not come easy, the words halted as she mulled them over in her head. All of the past events of the last week or so spilling over through her mind. She rested her hand on Peacemaker, the heated steel cooling in the shade. It’s warm grip cooling her sore hands.

She lamented, not looking Bethany in the eyes, “I was a seamstress. A very well known one at that. People from across Equestria came to me specifically for my skills. I do not care to brag, but I was one of the best of the best.”

Bethany gave a warm smile, resting her head against her knees, her voice having the consistency of caramel, “You loved it.”

Scorn suddenly adorned Rarity’s features, gazing down at Peacemaker. Such a simple tool, a mechanism that fires a projectile to injury or kill whoever was on the other side of the barrel. That is all it is. As simple as a paring knife or a pair of sewing shears. Yet, she had killed with this instrument of death in her hand. Her scorn turned into grim acceptance. Once more, she was no longer a simple seamstress, she was a gunslinger whether she liked it or not.

Rarity eased her hand of the grip of the pistol, and commented running a hand through her now frizzy and messy hair, “I loved a lot of things before a few days ago. A lot has changed from then to now. And I’m afraid I can’t look back.”

She blinked, looking back over at Bethany and smiled, “And what of you darling, what did you do before...all of this?”

Bethany sighed, not moving her curiously filled eyes, “All I’ve ever known was the sanctity and security of the Pie family, they took me at a young age. They tried to endocrine me into the darker ways of magic.”
“So you are a Kindred?”
“Yes,” Bethany answered matter-of-factly, “From what my ritual teachers said, I had a long line of Kindred in my family, one of the founding families of magic.”

Rarity smiled, sidling her way closer to the young girl, she mused wistfully, “I have a friend that would have loved to talk to you. Ask all manner of questions for you, she’d not leave you alone for hours.”

Bethany looked over at Pinkie and asked, “Is she a friend of yours?”

Rarity warmed her sneer and responded, “Yeah...I’d argue she is my closest friend.”

Bethany leaned up for a second, dropping her legs and scooted facing Rarity and asked, “Can I see your hand?”

Rarity knit an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”
“Just.” Bethany combed her hair back with her hands, revealing more of her face. “Trust me on this. Let me see your hand.”

Rarity shrugged and held out her hand, Bethany slowly prodded her appendages and her palm. She was feeling around for something, what it was Rarity had no idea but she played along.

A few seconds had gone by, her breaths were steady and her eyes were focused on the lines in Rarity’s right hand. The gunslinger had seen a few palm readers come through Ponyville but she never payed any attention to them, they were mostly just trying to get some extra coin through trickery. But this was different.

Rarity sensed the pulsing magic that awakened deep inside Bethany. Though she was young, her magic felt old. It felt ancient. It hummed as her hands continued to prod Rarity’s, the old magic drenching her arm gently cascading over her skin. It gently pulled on her arm, itching her to come closer. Not to Bethany, but to its magic. It tempted her, she taste magic like this before but never at this intensity. It reminded her of the magic she felt when she helped reclaim the Crystal Empire. Drinking in the euphoria of the arcane miasma, she closed her eyes.

Images filled her mind, various scenes and pictures of all kinds flooded and raced through her mind. She could not ascertain what they were or when they had happened. But one thing she did know, they were all about her and Pinkie. Her breaths were slow and calming, trying to not be overwhelmed by the magic that was moving its way through her body.

The images began to slowly meld and form into one solid picture, it was her memory of the promise she shared with Pinkie in Zecora’s hut.

Her heart fluttered, she felt a solitary tear crawl its way down her cheek. For once, as she pondered and held the scene fresh in her mind, she felt as if everything was going to be okay.

The magic slowly faded, Rarity’s breath returned to her as she opened her eyes, Bethany held a grand smile on her face.

Rarity snickered, “What are you smiling about?”

Bethany combed a strand of her hair over her ear and answered, “Nothing...nothing really...it’s just...you two care deeply about each other.”
“I-”

Rarity’s words were cut off as she heard the sound of a rifle being loaded, her arm swung to shield Bethany. In one fluid motion she pulled one of her sidehammers. Pulling back the hammer she waited for something to come into vision.

She heard the voice of a man shout, “Aight, I know you’s down there! Come out and tell me yer intentions before I show you mine!”

Rarity listened closely for a moment and heard the light sound of boots digging into rock. She heard it just above her, light pebbles crawled and fell off the side of the over hang.

The gunslinger sheathed her sidehammer, and pulled out Peacemaker, looking to Bethany and whispered in a low focused tone, “Step out and distract him while I sneak around behind him.”

Bethany gave not moment to resist or give an opposing plan. She pondered it for a moment, nodded her head and stood up. Her face was neutral, not a single expression across her face. It had become evident that she was not unfamiliar to situations such as these. Rarity watched as she stood up and walked to the very edge of the overhang, with every step closer Rarity could feel the air thrum with a rising magical energy. The same ancient mana that she felt when Bethany performed her spell on Rarity, but where it was warm and inviting before this was a threatening cold sting.

Readying Peacemaker, Rarity slinked closer to the edge of the rock and waited by the other side of the wall of stone. She looked back over at Bethany who raised her hands and turned around as she stepped out, her voice was loud and garnered a friendly tone as she shouted, “Alright, I’m stepping out now with my hands above my head. I am disarmed.”

Rarity then crouched low and sneaked her way around the rock, her steps slow and deliberate. Her breath was low and she could feel the cold steel tempt her to spring out and open fire on the unsuspecting man, but a small part of her beat back that thought.

She crept low and around, her foot finding purchase against the stone on the otherside. The sky opening up once again, the rock jutted out a good fifteen feet and saw the man standing on the edge, rifle raised pointing down. Taking in a slow breath, in and then out, she listened to their conversation.

The man nodded his head and called out, “Aight. Now, tell me why you’ve got them unconscious folk with ya.”

Bethany answered coldly, not wanting to incite anything, “They are friends of mine, they were injured a while back. We were just hiking through the mountains nearby and a rock slide caught us by surprise. We stopped over here to find some shade and respite. We did not mean to intrude on any territory of yours.”

Rarity smirked, she had quite the tongue on her, she was good at this kind of thing.

She watched as the man spat to his right, his tone was alligator like with a low raspy quality. It sounded as though his mouth was full of chew or something else, as he responded, “Ah see...well, yer a little ways from civilization. Not smart of ya to come here without a weapon of some kind.”

Rarity crept closer, and stood up taller. She straightened her arm and took aim at the older man, their conversation continued.

Bethany asked, “If I may, could you give us some food and respite we could-”
" ‘fraid I can’t do that sweetheart,” The older man interrupted, “I don’t usually trust strangers in the White Barrens. Hungry desperate folk will do some dark things. An-”

Rarity took careful steps closer and cocked the hammer of Peacemaker and threatened the man, “Lower your weapon, sir.”

The man slowly turned his head to the side, spitting up more with a little bit more substance exiting his calloused pursed lips. He eased out quietly, “Shit.”

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he slowly lowered his weapon. Raising his back and commented, “You better pray to the al-mighties that you know how to shoot that little lady.”

Rarity smirked coldly, “Oh, I know plenty how to shoot. Turn around slowly, and if you make any sudden movements you’ll find out real quick how I handle my weapon.”

The man chuckled, slowly turning around. Rarity now saw him in full view now, and she had to admit from looks alone he appeared to be now slouch in carrying iron.

He wore a tan vest, open and exposing his bright blue button up shirt. A gunbelt slung around his darkened dust covered jeans, with rounded leather boots. His face looked like aged leather, his small squinted eyes were threatening and his grey hair was short and bald in the front. His jaw was covered in a shaved beard that covered his cheeks and chin. His mustache combed down melding into the forest of grey.

He inspected her up and down and humphed matter-of-factly, “Heh, never thought a lady as pretty as you would point iron my way.”

Rarity retorted, tightening her grip on Peacemaker, “With charm like yours I can’t help but agree.”

He chuckled, his gaze tightening on her gun. His voice came low and growled out between vice like lips, “Where’d you find that gun?”

Rarity answered, “It’s a family heirloom. Belonged to my father.”

He slowly nodded his head, lifting his chin. His gaze was ponderous and thoughtful, his next words echoed in Rarity’s ears, “Yer Jack Dallas’ kid aren’t ya? ‘Course you may know him as James Crow.”

Rarity gulped, her eyes growing wide for a second before she squinted them and pointed her gun with more purpose as she threatened, “How do you know my father?”

He chuckled, “I used to run guns with yer father, ah saw him grow up with a glint in his eyes for the outlaw life. Jack Dallas was one of the finest shots this side of the badlands.”

So her father was not only abusive but he was an outlaw too. That just added icing on to his cake of degenerate filth.

He hooked his thumb from his free hand on his gunbelt and smiled warmly, “Well, any child of Jack’s is welcome in my territory any day o’ the week. Ah always wondered what he did in his free time.”

He paused, stepping forward slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He came close, Rarity flexed her finger threatening to fire, he outstretched his hand and greeted, “Name’s ‘Mad-Eye’ Jay, pleasure ta meet ya.”

She looked to his hand and then back at him. She studied him, he seemed friendly but she of all people knew that could quickly turn into threatening especially if he was an outlaw like her father.

The gunslinger stepped back, raising her gun to aim between his eyes. All he did was chortle, “Worry none darlin’, ah was close to yer father. Ah ain’t got no bad blood wit ‘em.”

She slowly nodded her head and lowered her gun, stepping forward taking his hand. She greeted, “My name’s Rarity Belle. Pleasure to meet you sir.”

He shook her hand with a wide smile and laughed out loud, “Ah, that’s rich. I had a feeling he’d settle down wit Mary Belle. They were always sweet on one another.”

He continued, resting his hands on his gunbelt, “It’s also nice that gun ain’t collectin’ dust somewheres.”
“Yeah,” Rarity stepped back, returning Peacemaker to its holdster, “Me too.”

He raised his hands out and gestured openly, “Well, if it’s food and lodgin’ ya need yer welcome to follow me back. Don’t worry none, ‘taint far from ‘ere.”

Rarity nodded, her expression becoming more inviting as she combed a hand through her messy hair. She sighed, “That sounds nice. Thank you for your generous hospitality, sir.”

He waved his hand, and commented, “No need fer fermality, Rarity. Call me Jay.”

She nodded, “Well then Jay, thank you.”

He then nodded and began to shuffle off, “Pleasure’s mine, ah’ll give ya some time to get yer things then we’ll head off.”

She sauntered down the stone and met Bethany who was tending to Pinkie. Kneeling down, Bethany looked up and commented off handedly, “Well that went better than I thought.”

Rarity sighed, “Yeah...I keep learning new things about my father. Even after his death.”

Bethany turned towards her with sympathetic eyes and gulped, “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Rarity waved a hand, “Don’t be, he was rat bastard. He got what was coming to him.”

She raised her eyebrows, Rarity’s young companion commented, “Ah, I see...”

She paused and asked as Rarity gathered up her flats and her knapsack, “If I’m not being too bold, how did your father die?”

Rarity slowly died down the hot rage that she still held for her father. Her answer came slow and low toned, “I put a bullet between his lying eyes.”

She found grim satisfaction in her words. Her inner gunslinger proud of her kill. Her wicked bones gleeful at her response. Rarity beat back that feeling, not wanting her outlaw blood to show.

They were silent as they gathered their friend and their prisoner and found their way next to Jay who was leaning against a rock.

He looked to them and Rarity simply nodded her head, and they set off across the desert once more. All the while, her memory playing all of the events that lead up to and finally the final day of her father’s death. She found new found strength in them she had not noticed before. Her firing hand felt firmer, more controlled.

She smirked as she finally found respite in those memories. Jack Dallas, infamous outlaw was gunned down by his own blood. Rarity could not have been more proud of herself.

Rarity looked up at the sky and in her head she heard Zecora’s words echo in her head, ”Fight to defend, not to kill.”

Pinkie groaned as she roused from her sleep, her head splitting from the calamitous re-tightening of her Instinct. As her wits were returning to her, she silently promised herself to not let her Instinct get the better of herself. Though Pinkamena was quiet and rested, she knew that it was too close to call it a victory.

Her muscles were tired and weighed heavy on her bones, she felt her feet being dragged against the ground. She shook her head, her vision crawling back to her.

She shot her head over, her gut telling her that she had been captured. She flinched and knocked herself out of her captor’s hands. The sun blinding her vision.

She pushed back and rolled against hot sand, pulling out her bone knife, she readied low. Her breaths were heavy, her Instinct kicking in readying for combat.

She felt familiar soft hands rest on her shoulders, a calm and soothing voice of the purest silk whispered softly in her ear, “Pinkie, darling. It’s alright. You’re safe.”

The killer shook her head slowly, shutting her eyes closed trying to expel her temporary blindness. Raising a hand to her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose.

She eased out in a low hushed tone, “Eh...Rarity?...What happened? Where are we?”

Keeping her eyes closed, Rarity kneaded her shoulders and whispered, “We are in the White Barrens, darling. You fell unconscious after the explosion. You suffered some gruesome wounds. We wandered in the desert for a few days, we then met with an old friend of my father’s and he is giving us a place to stay. To rest.”

Pinkie shook her head and said defiantly, “No, we have to continue on. We can’t-”
“Darling.” Rarity threatened kindly in a low tone. “You are in no condition to continue on. We haven’t eaten anything in days. And frankly I need a minute to rest.”

Pinkie finally opened her eyes, looking over she saw the same angel that saved her on that lonesome day so many years ago. Her eyes were soft and sympathetic. The elements might not have been kind on her hair or her pristine alabaster skin, but she was still as beautiful as ever.

Pinkie smiled and chortled, “Heh...you look like shit Rarity.”

Rarity returned her smile and commented sarcastically, “You’re not exactly looking particularly better, darling.”

Pinkie stood up, Rarity moving her hands to her side and back to help her up. Pinkie would normally have waved her away, she felt fine but she just wanted Rarity to hold her for just a few moments longer.

She stretched her back and arms, her muscles slowly returning the similar strength that she was used too. But it fled quickly as it became very apparent that she had not been given sustenance in quite some time. Her body felt tired and depleted of energy.

Pinkie looked over at who carried her and saw a young girl. Raven locks long and wearing Rarity’s black blouse and tight blue jeans. They seemed to fit fairly well, her eyes were a deep eldritch green. And she felt a familiar dark energy emanating around her.

She tightened her grip on her knife and commented, “Who’s she? And why is she with us?”

Rarity answered calmly, “This is Bethany. She was being used as a mana battery for the Dirthouse. She’s here to help us.”

Bethany waved a hand slowly, startled by Pinkie’s sudden and rude awakening.

Pinkie looked to Rarity disapprovingly, Rarity knit an eyebrow, “What?”

Pinkie sighed, “We’ll talk about it later.”

They found pace with their new caretaker. Who carried the unconscious body of none other than Shining Armor himself. He was slung over the man’s shoulder and Pinkie could smell mixed with sweat was the scent of blood. She inspected Shining closer and saw wounds on his calves.

Pinkie shook her head, events connecting in her head, she eased out, “Rarity...you took Shining hostage?”

She looked to Rarity who gave the same look that Pinkie gave her a few moments before and commented sarcastically, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Pinkie chuckled and nodded her head to the man and asked loud enough for the stranger to hear, “So who’s the bag of bones that’s carrying Shining?”

He answered, his deep raspy voice barely audible through his teeth, “Name’s ‘Mad-Eye’ Jay.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow at Rarity who shrugged her shoulders in response as Pinkie commented, “So we are finding rest with an outlaw? You certainly know how to find ‘em Rares.”

Rarity gave a devilish smile in response and remarked sardonically, “Well I’m friends with you? I’m sure you two will get along great.”

Pinkie chuckled and moved her gaze back over to Bethany, suspicion bleeding through her gaze. Her mind filling with memories she buried of the Deathwhisper coven. This new ally bled with that same magical energy. Pinkie could not shake the feeling that the only reason she was with them was because she wanted to catch them off guard and kill them in the name of the Deathwhisper coven. Or slow them down long enough so that she can join with the tailing assassins and show her true colors.

Her gaze tightened slightly. She could not shake the feeling that a snake walked amongst them, ready to strike at any moment. Her mind flooded with possible ways to deal with this treasonous bitch. She surmised that while conditions were perfect for her to kill her and deal with Rarity’s anger later.

But, she was not that sloppy. No, Pinkamena fed her with a slew of possibilities when they find respite to wherever Jay was taking them. She would strike first. Carefully, quietly.

She buried her thoughts and asked, “So where are we headed to Jay?”

As they crested a dune, Pinkie saw a town just a few miles out. The buildings looked lived in but she saw no citizens. No life in the buildings, no light. It was nearing the evening so it would stand to reason they were turning in early. Jay answered warmly gesturing towards the town ahead, “We’re heading to Scarth.”

Pinkie felt fear rise in her stomach, defiantly she remarked, “We’re headed to a town? I’m sorry but more than half of us are criminals, two of us have active bounties on our heads. I don’t think-“
“Don’t worry none, it’s a ghost town after Dallas and I cleared it out. Spooked ‘em into thinking a sand demon was haunting the place. We needed a place that we could rest in the small hours we weren’t shootin’ and thievin’. Fortunately, our gang cleared out ‘while ago. So, I decided to move on in and have a quiet place to retire.”

Bethany commented, “How quaint, a criminal outliving his own desire to steal and murder. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Pinkie rolled her eyes as Jay laughed, “This one’s got some fire, ah like it! Nah it ain’t that, just too old to live by the gun no more. I’d still do it if I could.”

Pinkie was about to throw a comment towards Bethany, except Jay suddenly stopped and ordered, “Quiet now.”

They all stopped, the wind rustling against them. Pinkie drew her gaze over her surroundings, trying to find the reason for their halt.

She listened closely, breathing in her surroundings to find something out of place. Silently analyzing her perimeter. She saw nothing out of the ordinary.

But as she listened, registering just above the whispering wind she could hear it:
Tick...
Tick...
Tick...

Pinkie’s eyes grew wide as what the sound was clicked in her mind. She grabbed Rarity and Bethany and shouted, “Into cover, now!”

She dragged them with her as she rushed away and fell behind a nearby rock. Jay followed with Shining Armor and slamming down against the rock. Pinkie pulled out a knife and listened as a great calamitous crash boomed and shook the ground beneath their feet. She peeked over the rock and saw the sand burst into the air, watching as it then found its way back to the earth.

Pinkie ducked her head back as she heard a gunshot and a bullet ricochet off their cover.

Flinching, Pinkie growled to herself. Cracking her head, she watched as both Rarity and Jay pulled out their rifles and began to return fire. Bethany flicked her hands and dark green eldritch magic erupted across her hands.

Ducking back under cover, Jay hastily started to reload and yelled, “Friends of yers?”

Rarity flinched back under cover, Pinkie listened to the choir of guns and bullets that deafened the quiet desert air.

Rarity flicked the lever and pulled out the empty cartridge of shells and commented as she grabbed another from her knapsack, “I’d hardly call them friends!”

Regaining their positions, Rarity and Jay returned heavy fire. Pinkie watched them and peeked over the stone.

Through the haze of gun smoke, she could see where they were firing at. About fifty feet out were about three assassins, even from that distance Pinkie could see their iconic masks that assassins of the Pie family wore. A crimson sun against a black sky.

Ducking back under cover, Pinkie flexed her hands and tensed her grip on her knife. Her Instinct swelled inside of her, she felt her skin toughen and her eyes burned with the familiar feeling of the dark pink lightning dancing over the rims of her irises.

She felt a hand grip her arm and she swung her head to meet who grabbed her, it was Bethany as she shouted, “What are you doing!? You’re injured, you can’t go out there!”

Pinkie shoved her grip away and barked, “I’m fine! Just cover me while I charge them!”
“Not a chance,” Bethany calmly retorted, “Not like-WAIT!”

Pinkie charged around their cover and felt the sand try and hinder her charging feet. She rushed along the glass like surface of the desert and rushed along the plains of white sand. She heard briefly the cracks of rifles and pistols in the air. Her Instinct flooded her vision, focusing solely on the assassins behind cover like cowards. Rage filled her veins and mixed well with deep energy of her power.

She then heard the sound of eldritch energy bolts flying free towards the assassins, the cacophonous sound of the bolts blasted against the stone and black necrotic energy crawled over the surface of the rock. The assassins fell back behind their cover.

Nearing the covering in a few seconds she leaped over the rock and dove straight for one of the assassins.

Catching him off guard she tucked against the sand and stabbed her knife deep into the assassins abdomen and punctured straight into his stomach and his kidney. The assassin howled in pain as he met the full force of her strikes and the slamming against the ground. A calm bloodlust filling her veins.

Sitting up she parried the bash of another assassin’s gun. She barked angrily and assaulted the assassin, striking hard and fast. She tried to press the advantage but blocked each of her strikes with their gun, the blows crippling the integrity of the gun as sparks danced off the guns metal barrel.

She felt a bash against the bottom of her neck from the third assassin, her vision growing white for second form the strike. She grunted in pain and regathered her senses quickly from the rapid healing of her Instinct.

Spinning around she slashed horizontally and tried to make purchase to the other assassin, but he had dodged the strike.

He tossed his gun and pulled out a knife of his own and they exchanged blows. Pinkie growled as she tried to find a crack in his defenses, something to give her the advantage. Her Instinct swelled and grew to new heights as she gave a bloodcurdling war cry that rose above the gunfire.

After the last strike of his assault, she reversed her dagger and bashed the hilt against his jaw and sent him off staggering.

Spinning around she saw as the other assassin raised his knife above his head wrenching it down and finding purchase in Pinkie’s shoulder. She cried at the pain as blood slowly leaked from the sound. A cruel laugh emanated from the assassin, but quickly died as a shot ripped through the air and Pinkie watched as blood splattered from a new bullet wound in his neck. Dark red blood spewed from his wound and lost grip from the knife.

Pinkie smiled cruelly and stabbed her bone dagger deep into his neck causing a wave of blood to wash over Pinkie. Delighting in the wash of iron against her.

Tossing the body she turned and faced the final standing assassin.

He was rushing off and ducking his head from the bullets that whizzed past his ears. Trying to escape with his life.

Pinkie wrenched the knife in her shoulder and flipping the knife in the air briefly and with renewed vigor threw the dagger sailing towards the assassin.

Whistling through the air, she watched as it pierced through his back and an eldritch bolt blasting against the space between his shoulders. Finding a resting place in the sand as he slumped over.

Pinkie breathed heavily as he nerves and her Instinct died down, she felt the red hot pain in her shoulder shoot up and she grunted at its stinging pain.

She moved a hand over the wound and put pressure on the wound. Clenching her eyes shut, she bit back groans of pain at the fresh wound on her shoulder.

Harvesting the pain and trying to lower her heart beat she heard Rarity shout over the dunes, “Pinkie Pie!”

Her breaths were escaping at a fast rhythm, she looked and saw Rarity slinging her rifle over her shoulder and rushing towards her. All the while, Pinkie fought against the urge to close her eyes and let the pain over take her like the assassins that lied around her.

Rarity clambered to Pinkie’s side and grabbed her with worry in her eyes and her voice was shot with fear as she rhapsodized, “Pinkie! Pinkie Pie! Don’t close your eyes, look at me darling!”

Pinkie painfully spat out, “Rares...I’m...I’m fine.”

Even Pinkie did not believe her own words as she tried to reassure her friend.

Slumping against Rarity, Rarity grabbed her and choked, “No no no no! You are not passing out on me again!”

Pinkie saw spots in her vision as she tried not succumb to her failing strength. She did not understand, her power should be healing her by now. But she felt cold, the pain subsiding, but her failed strength overwhelming her muscles. Was she losing her edge? Were these her final moments?

Rarity bit back tears that swelled in her pools of aquamarine and quivered holding Pinkie close, “No...no...don’t leave me yet...I need you...”

Rarity rested her head in on her shoulder and let her pain bleed from her eyes. Rarity trembled against Pinkie Pie, she knew, she felt her failing strength. Her hands pressed hard into her back and one of them eased pressure and moved to her head. Cradling Pinkie's head, she dug her fingers into Pinkie's dirty messy hair. Petting her, Pinkie gave a quivering smile at these small moments. In another time she would have enjoyed this. With the last of her strength she returned the hug. If it was her final moments she choked back her pain and whispered to her dearest and closest friend, “Rarity...”

Her weakened tone caused a lump to form in Pinkie's throat, Rarity pulled back and looked deep into her eyes and asked, “What? What is it?”

The desperation in her voice stopped her words for a moment, if it was all up to her she would keep Rarity far away from this feeling of loss. Keep her safe, protected, from all the bad things in the cruel cruel world. The pain that bled from Rarity's face hurt Pinkie deeply. She should not see her go. But it was not Pinkie's choice now.

Pinkie rested a hand on her neck and pawed her soft skin, in case it was the last she felt it. Her silky soft skin eased her pain for but a moment, and she drank in its power. She drew her hand to her cheek, soaking her dust covered hand in her tears that fell willingly from her beautiful eyes.

Pinkie bit back tears of her own as she painfully croaked, “Rares...I’ve...I’ve always...loved you...”

Rarity clamored her hands to Pinkie’s and nodded sniffling, “Yeah...I know...I love you too.”

Pinkie shook her head, “No...not like I do Rarity...not as a friend...”

Pinkie watched as her friend’s mood shifted, moving from grief to a deep sorrow. She stood there stunned.

Pinkie rubbed her thumb against her soft cheek and smiled, “A deep love...something more than just a friend...”

With those last words the darkness settled in and the last thing she saw was Bethany rushing towards them both.

Before her mind clouded and all slipped into oblivion she heard a dark voice in the back of her head growl, ”Damnit you weak sack of shit. I can’t let you die yet!”