“This is a stupid plan,” Watcher told me, the mechanical, emotionless voice the sprite-bot emitted somehow managing to sound exasperated.

Having already heard his opinion regarding my plan, I didn’t even turn my head to regard the sprite-bot. I did, however, grace him with a reply, “Yes, sweetie, I heard you the first time. However, since you don’t have a better plan, I’m afraid that’s the course I must take.”

I also made a mental note to ask Watcher about his gender after this was over; the thought that I continuously assumed his gender to be male while it could very well be a mare on the proverbial “other side” of the machine speaking to me really bothered me!

“I have a better plan,” Watcher argued, most likely irritated. “It’s the ‘getting back into the Stable and closing the damn door’ plan.”

This time I turned my head towards him as I replied, but doing so had caused a lock of my mane to fall into my eye as a gust of wind suddenly blew. Slightly shaking from cold as it washed over my naked coat, I brushed my mane off and said “I’ve already told you, sweetie, I will not risk the lives of Ditzy and - most likely - Jack.”

“So instead you just put your life not at risk, but at certain death! Or worse!”

“There are a few things I consider worse than death, sweetie,” I responded. “None of which I believe those raiders are capable of.”

“I think you’d reconsider if you’d ever been into any of their camps,” Watcher pointed out. “Which for all we know might happen quite soon!”

I turned away from him, gazing in the direction from where Watcher had told me they would approach. I still couldn’t see them, as they were currently about ten minutes away from us. Having finished my preparations, however, I came outside to wait for them. I had hoped that I could mentally prepare myself by stretching out a little and attempting to meditate, while listening to the gentle whistling of the wind and the songs DJ Pon3 played on his broadcast, which I had tuned to with my PipBuck.

Of course, between the sprite-bot that continued to convey my unknown ally’s misgivings and two apparitions only I could see, one which was shaking with worry and other pacing around nervously, I hadn’t had an opportunity to sit down and attempt to clear my thoughts.

“If you get back inside, they will most likely stay out here try to find a way to get in, yes,” Watcher tried again after a short silence, probably having taken a few breaths to calm himself. “When your friends arrive, they will shoot at them, yes. But it doesn’t mean they’ll even hit them, let alone kill them. Ditzy Doo and that griffin will just fly away and come back after they raiders had left.”

“And you really think they’d leave after they saw with their own eyes somebody trying to reach the Stable?” I countered. “Ditzy’s arrival would be like a confirmation that there is something inside. No, the raiders would stay here, and who knows what would happen then? With myself and Apple Core cut out of the outside world in the Stable, we wouldn’t know. We could stay until our rations would run out and try to leave, only to be captured, or don’t open the Stable door out of fear and starve to death.” I shook my head. “I prefer to do something while I know what is happening. While I possess enough information to act. Furthermore… ”

I trailed off, my gaze searching for the freshly dug grave. The final resting piece of Burst and Blast’s remains was just a few yards away.

“I’ve already lost two ponies because of my…” I began, then hesitated. My fear? My indecision? “My weakness. Burst and Blast would have been alive if only I had acted differently. I will not repeat this mistake and put two more in danger. This time, I will take the best course of action.”

My resolve had seemingly not convinced Watcher to stop trying to dissuade me. “Angel, please-”

“Why are you so concerned about me?” I finally asked, turning back. I tilted my head as I looked at the sprite-bot curiously. “You don’t know me, we’ve met only the day before. Assuming that it could be called a meeting, given the nature of your… approach method,” I said as I decided on the words I wanted to use, waving at the machine before me to emphasize my point. “And yet you seem very determined to help me survive this.”

“Are you complaining?” Watcher asked.

“Of course not, sweetie, I am merely curious,” I quickly assured him, then smiled sadly. “I’m afraid that the concern for me you exhibit is rather… uncharacteristic for a Wastelander.”

A deep sigh emerged from the sprite-bot. “Yeah, tell me about it… Look, I just want to help you because it’s the right thing to do. Do you always need a reason to help somepony?”

“Sweetie, that’s hardly the same,” I waved off his question. “I took an oath to help others when I became a doctor.”

“Huh, I see…” Watcher said, trailing off as if pondering on what I had said. Slightly confused, I raised my eyebrow, which prompted him to resume our conversation. “Hey, wasn’t ‘first do no harm’ part of that oath? Because what you’re planning to do kinda-”

“Oh please, sweetie, my oath extends to sapient beings,” I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I highly doubt that those degenerates, who enjoy bringing pain and suffering to others, qualify as such.”

And besides, I added, my ears dropping, as I turned my gaze away from the sprite-bot, not wanting to risk Watcher seeing my thoughts reflected in my eyes, I’ve already broken that part of my oath.

“I suppose they don’t,” Watcher replied, sounding faintly amused. I was relieved he hadn’t noticed my change in demeanor. Another sigh escaped through the sprite-bot. “I can’t talk you out of it, can’t I?”

“No, you cannot, sweetie.”

“Well… I hope your plan works. If this doesn’t… I’m glad I got to meet you,” Watcher said. “You… really are an interesting pony.”

“Thank you, sweetie, and I’m sure you will continue to find me interesting after this unpleasant ordeal will be over,” I told him, finding it slightly irritating that he apparently held such little faith in my plan and my survival. However, my annoyance vanished immediately as an idea struck me. “But since it you seem convinced that I will be killed,” I began, turning to the sprite-bot and smirking, “how about we make a bet?”

“A bet?” Watcher asked, the very subtle pause between ‘a’ and ‘bet’ suggesting a confusion.

I nodded. “Yes. If my plan fails and I die, you win, and as a reward you’ll get to say that you were right.”

“I fail to see how that’s a reward,” Watcher replied; I had a feeling that he was deadpanning at his monitor at me.

“I find that such if often the case when it comes to being right,” I told him, smiling sadly.

“I mean, even overlooking the fact that I don’t want you to die, I wouldn’t even get to brag about being right to anypony, since nopony else would know about it.”

“Well, I suppose you could brag to raiders about it,” I suggested, actually pondering Watcher’s dilema.

“Yeah, ‘cause that would be a great conversation as they- wait, why the heck are we talking about this?!” As if to emphasize his annoyance and that he considered this part of our conversation over, Watcher made the sprite-bot shake briefly. “And if your plan works? What do you win?”

A smirk returned to my muzzle. “If I win, I want to meet you, face to face.”

The sprite-bot stayed remained silent for a several seconds afterwards, hovering next to me. I stared at it, patiently waiting for Watcher’s answer, curious to how he would react.

“I…” Watcher finally began, only to hesitate.

“Honestly, sweetie?” I spoke, letting a little pretense to slip into my voice. “You expect me to die within the next ten minutes, and you can’t even agree to such a simple request?”

“It’s not a simple request,” Watcher replied defensively. “I don’t exactly meet with other ponies to begin with. But… sure,” he finally said, “if your plan works and you survive, we’ll meet face to face… someday.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his either shrewdness or shyness, satisfied with his answer. “Then it’s a date,” I told him simply, turning back again towards the direction the raiders were coming. “Because my plan will work.”

The sprite-bot once again fell silent. I expected a follow-up comment from Watcher, but I was content to finally have some piece.

That being said, I had a feeling that wherever Watcher was (and whoever he - assuming he was a he - was, for that matter), he was currently rolling his eyes at me.

The peaceful moment, however, was brought to a halt, but not by Watcher or the two apparitions (who for once were being content to remain silent), or even by the sudden arrival of the vicious, murdering savages called raiders, but rather by the song played by my PipBuck ending, and instead of being followed by another song as had been the case as we waited beside the Rock Farm’s main office building, but instead by a stallion’s voice.

“Hey everypony, this is your friendly neighborhood DJ Pon3, interrupting the beautiful music of Sapphire Shores to bring you some news!”

Despite that I was about to be in a very dangerous situation within a few minutes, I found myself perking my ears at the sound of DJ Pon3’s voice. I was curious to hear what he had to say, especially since it has been a while since I managed to catch his news report.

That, and I had little other things to do at the moment.

“So, do you all remember how a few weeks ago I told you ‘bout some Stable gal running into slavers right after crawling out of her Stable?”

I blinked. “There was another Stable pony who run into-” I began to say out loud as I turned to the sprite-bot, only to stop and turn abruptly back to my PipBuck as realization hit me the. “Wait, is he talking about me?!” I exclaimed, surprised.

“Well, it turns out mine and whoever else’s prayers either worked amazingly well, or where unnecessary,” DJ Pon3 continued, oblivious to my confusion. “I’ve got a recent report that the said Stable Dweller had been recently sighted in New Appleloosa, in a company of slavers no less. So… what the heck girl? Are you hooking up with slavers? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, that’s some awful company to pick.

“Now, to be fair, guessing by her get-up, the mare seems to be a some sort of doctor, so maybe she’s now the old Appleloosa’s medic. But why would she have come to New Appleloosa then, escorted by slavers? I dunno kids, but if I hear anything interesting about this I’ll keep you posted. In other news...”

The following news escaped my notice as my attention drifted from the PipBuck. “How… I mean, I’ve come to New Appleloosa only two days ago,” I said, turning to the sprite-bot. “How could he possibly know… wait,” I said, a suspicion flickering in my mind. “Are you DJ Pon3, Watcher?”

It would have made sense; how else could DJ Pon3 learn so soon about my arrival in New Appleloosa, if he didn’t have an access to the old Equestria’s secret surveillance robots?

“No, that’s not me,” Watcher replied, however. I still stared at him, unconvinced. “I’m serious! Look, I just made a bet about you dying a moment ago, why the heck would I lie to you now?”

I blinked. “Huh, that’s a valid point,” I admitted, surrendering the argument and dispersing my suspicion. I looked thoughtfully at my PipBuck as DJ Pon3 wrapped up his news report. “Who is he, then? And how does learn about the events transpiring in the Wasteland that he reports about on his broadcast?”

“Dunno, and don’t really care,” Watcher said.

In the meantime, DJ Pon3 had finished, and was now announcing the broadcast return to playing songs. “And now we return to Sapphire Shores, with ‘Get Your Pony On!’”

As music once again began to play out of my PipBuck, another thought struck me. “And wait, did he say that he had talked about me?” I asked, turning to the sprite-bot.

“Yeah, he did. I think I even heard that one, back two weeks ago? What, don’t you listen to his station?”

“Oh, I do, I guess I must have missed that particular news report,” I replied, scratching my chin as I recalled how often I had been listening to DJ Pon3’s broadcast within the few days after leaving Stable Eight. However, noticing that the sprite-bot continued to hover next to me still turned towards me, without Watcher saying anything, which I interpreted as him staring at me. “Sweetie, I’m a busy mare, it’s not that surprising that I had missed some of DJ Pon3’s reports, the one about myself among them.”

“Oh, no, it’s not… I’ve been thinking about something else, actually,” Watcher replied. “About what he said about you and the slavers.”

Ah, that, I thought as I sighed.

“I believe we had established, sweetie, that I am not a fighter,” I told Watcher. “What was I supposed to do when I had stumbled upon a band of slavers exactly? I talked them down, healed their injured and offered my services. They brought me to old Appleloosa, and I managed to become the town’s medic. Thanks to that, I can offer the unfortunate ponies they capture some proper care,” I added, expecting what Watcher could say to that. “Which I wouldn’t be able if I had been forced to join them in shackles, or if I had been killed.”

Watched stayed silent for a few seconds, as if judging my response. Finally, he asked, “How often do you have to say that to yourself?”

Confused, I tilted my head. “To myself? Why would I say this to myself?”

My reply in turn seem to take Watcher aback, guessing by the barely hearable grunt the sprite-bot conveyed. “I…” Watcher began to say after a second, then stopped. “You know, let’s get through this for now,” he started again soon, making the sprite-bot turn towards the direction where the raiders would come from before turning back to me, “we can get back to this discussion later. And speaking of…” he added, turning the sprite-bot again and trailing off.

Following the robot’s gaze, I realized that there were now visible pony silhouettes far in the distance. At the same moment, my E.F.S. kicked in, showing red bars in their direction.

The raiders were here.

Well, almost, I corrected myself as I turned off my PipBuck’s broadcaster, watching as they shapes slowly grew bigger. Guess there’s no escaping…

I almost turned to look in the direction where the cellar door that led to the Stable Eleven was. I resisted, not because I didn’t want to appear weak before Watcher, but because I didn’t want to let doubt creep into my soul.

I can do this, I thought once again, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

Of course you can! a loud, high-pitched voice resonated within my mind. I glanced at the apparition of Pinkie Pie as she gave me an encouraging smile. We’ve seen how you’ve talked down that meanie Scope, those “raiders” will be nothing compared to him!

Although I was happy to hear the pink apparition’s express her support and faith in me, I couldn’t help but point something out to her, It will be a tad different than with Scope though, sweetie.

Yeah, I know, Pinkie Pie replied, growing a bit somber and more serious. But it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you will make it work! Right Fluttershy? she asked, turning to the other apparition.

The tiny pegasus mare glanced at her friend, then at me. It was plain that she wasn’t looking forward to witnessing what was about to happen (not to mention to what could happen, my gruesome death among those), anymore that she had when I have confronted Scope. However, despite that, the apparition of Fluttershy smiled at me. Angel… I’m sure you will be fine. You might say that Burst and Blast died because of your weakness, but I see inner strength in you that I wish I had possessed. Now, um… go show it to those mean raiders! she ordered, managing to look at me with determination, although it was clear that she was straining to do so.

I smiled back at her. Thank you, sweetie. Both of you, I added, turning to smile at Pinkie Pie. Although, I added, looking back at Fluttershy, I would say that you have plenty of inner strength already.

Fluttershy blushed, but before she could respond or before I could continue my thought, a voice pulled me back to my surroundings.

“Angel?” Watcher asked, the sprite-bot moving slightly to the side.

Did he say my name just because he wanted to catch my attention, or have I made any weird facial expressions while talking with Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie? I wondered briefly. Or, Goddesses forbid, have I talked out loud?

“It appears it’s time to start the show,” I said, ignoring my worries. “Will you still help me, sweetie?”

“I wouldn’t have stayed around here so long if I hadn’t planned to,” Watcher replied, the mechanical voice of the sprite-bot making it difficult to tell if my question had offended him. “I will do as you’ve asked.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” I said, rising from my haunches and stretching my legs a little.

“And for the record,” Watcher added, even though the sprite-bot had began to slowly make its way back to hide behind one of the ruined buildings, as I we had agreed he would, “I usually don’t help ponies this much.”

I turned to him, my mouth open… and then hesitated before speaking. I closed my mouth and regarded the sprite-bot, or rather, Watcher. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know anything about him, really. About the only thing I did know, though, was that he was helping me. That he went out of his way to warn me, and then stayed to help me, even if it was in this fashion that posed no risk to him. Watcher claimed that he was doing this because it was the right thing to do, and even if that wasn’t the truth - that there was some ulterior motive behind his actions - or even the whole truth, at this moment, it didn’t matter. If it weren’t for Watcher, I would have been still inside the Stable, probably still taking a bath, oblivious that a bunch of murderous savages were about to enter through the door that I had left open.

My gaze softened. “I’m grateful that you have made an exception for me, darling,” I told him, as warmly as possible.

“... Heh, no problem,” Watcher replied, the sprite-bot emitting noises that sounded like chuckling.

With that final exchange, I offered Watcher one last smile and turned away. I could almost feel the sprite-bot gaze lingering on me for a second as I trotted back towards the door of the main office building, before Watcher finally made the machine fly off to the spot we had agreed upon.

As I had set out, I turned to the two apparitions, warmed by my exchange with Watcher, and thinking of how supportive the two of them have been to me. Especially Fluttershy, who had been with me longer, and whom had seen more of me; despite our difference of opinions, she was still helping me. Well, darlings, I asked them, smiling, shall we?

With both Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie replying to me with happy - if somewhat a little confused - smiles, I carried out the plan I had prepared.

As I passed the door - which fortunately had been left open during the evacuation to the Stable two hundred years ago - and the bear trap - the very same that I had walked into yesterday - that I had so carefully brought from the Stable and “rearmed”, then headed for my Stable barding and lab coat I had left on the desk. Ignoring the clothes for now, I grabbed a single little square that I had put on them.

A Party-Time Mint-al.

This was the part of the plan that I probably disliked the most. Not that I was against using chems (in moderation, of course); I was, after all, making bottle caps on the side by selling them to ponies, even if those ponies were slavers. Or that I feared developing an addiction to any chem (As if I would let myself be bound by something of that sort, I couldn’t help but snort mentally.); I knew all the effects drugs had on ponies, so I wouldn’t develop psychological addiction, and as for the physical one, I knew all the treatments to remedy them. My old mentor had made sure of that… along with the effects various drugs had on a pony, for that matter. (That was an… interesting day, to say the least.) No, what I didn’t like was the that the elevated state that came with using this particular drug, the clarity of thought of sharpness of senses, was only achievable after consuming said drug. I disliked the idea of having to rely on them to achieve it, or increase my physical strength and endurance by using Buck, or my reaction time by inhaling Dash.

I wanted to possess all of those without the need to use chems.

I wanted everypony to possess all of those.

I had already experienced the effects of a drug today. I’ve required a little boost to my strength that only Buck could provide me with in order to move what I needed from the Stable, like the bear trap. The effects of Buck had long since left me, and the sensation of how physically weak I truly was even more jarring. I wasn’t looking forward to a similar experience.

Knowing the time was of the essence, though, I didn’t hesitate for a second before consuming the Party-Time Mint-al, then made my way outside. I had reasoned with slavers and first intimidated then bartered with Scope, but now I was about to face an entire herd of ponies who defied logic with their savagery. Although I had planned out what I was going to do and say, and I was confident in myself, I intended to take every advantage I could get to maximise my chances.

Even before I passed the door, I felt the Party-Time Mint-al’s effect take hold; the world became brighter as my senses sharpened, and my thoughts clearer and calmer. I became more focused. I became more confident. And as I trotted towards the approaching raides (whom by now I could hear, courtesy of the drug I just took), I knew that I was going to win that bet with Watcher.

I didn’t have to walk far. I just reached the edge of the ruined barracks when the raiders spotted me. Almost all of them roared with maniacal laughter at my sight, and several broke into gallop. Some raised their weapons, but upon realizing that I was completely unarmed, they lowered them, their grins deepening.

I merely smiled and sat down.

As I expected, my behaviour threw them off. They were used to ponies either running away in terror or shooting at them (though I’d suspect the latter was probably their less favorite). They’ve never seen a pony who upon the sight of raiders would just sit down and wait patiently for them. The ones that ran ahead of the group had slowed down, gazing at me with a mixture of suspicion and confusion. And a promise of violence, that part hadn’t changed. Still, though, they advanced upon me, the ones who had run ahead beginning to encircle me, as if I was a prey and they were the predators.

An allegory that may very well be on point.

Or had been, rather, I commented, smirking in my thoughts.

My eyes darted around at them as they surrounded me. Just as Watcher had told me, there were seventeen stallions and seven mares in the group, twenty four in total. They carried a variety of weapons, from knives and baseball bats to short firearms and battle saddles. They all carried marks of hard life on their bodies, scars poking out from underneath their bardings and missing teeth (and the others having yellow buildup on them, either plaque or tartar), which I noticed thanks to them grinning at me. And their leader…

“Well well, lootit at what we have here boys,” their leader said, grinning. He was a big, grimm looking unicorn stallion with three scars on the left side of his muzzle, one reaching all the way above his brow and most likely being related to the cataract in his left eye. However, I didn’t pay much thought to his medical history, preoccupied with my own survival. He carried a rifle of sorts, but upon seeing how defenseless I was he had strapped it to his back. “A pretty new plaything, all spruced up and ready for some fun,” he added, looking me up and down with a gaze that could be both lustful and hungry, an expressions mirrored by the other raiders.

Well, I got them into talking distance without getting shot, I noted, activating S.A.T.S. for the last-moment mental preparations. Now…

Scope was intelligent, and wanted information from me. Him, I could have intimidated. With raiders, however, Demon’s advice wouldn’t have worked so well. Fear causes ponies to make rash, not thought out decisions (Or make ponies dumb, as most would simply put.), and based on what I’ve heard of raiders, intelligence wasn’t their forte to begin with. If I’d try to intimidate them to gain the upperhoof in our conversation, I would very likely end up being shot by them. Possibly not even on purpose, one raider could just pull a trigger by accident out of fear.

I tried to not think if being killed by raiders by accident would be considered ridiculous in the Wasteland.

No, intimidation wouldn’t work. Fortunately, Demon wasn’t the only one who had given me advices when it comes to conversing with others.

… now is time to put some of Granny’s training to use.

I cleared my throat, gazing at my reflexion in the full body mirror and tried again. “Why, hello sweetie,” I said, softening my gaze and flickering my hoof in greeting. “It’s such a pleasure to see you today. May I help you with something?”

A pleased hum sound behind me. “Good, you’ve said it without your voice quivering this time at all, dear.”

Dropping my composure and beaming up happily, I turned around. “Really Granny?” I asked, surprised that I’ve managed to get it right.

The majestic elderly mare that laid comfortably on the couch chuckled warmly. “Yes, my Little Angel, although it would be ideal if you’d notice this yourself. If you want to command ponies attention while talking to them, you need to pay attention to their voices and facial expressions so that you’d know how to best adjust your demeanor and words. Also,” she added, winking at me playfully, “you shouldn’t break your composure just because something went according to your design, or that you were distracted.”

“Oh, right,” I exclaimed, my ears dropping in embarrassment.

My reaction caused Granny to chuckle again, a bit louder. Knowing that this wasn’t a mean-spirited chuckle, I relaxed, and waited patiently for her finish. As I looked at her, her light gray, almost silver coat and her wavy mane that became gray with age even before I had been born (the slight division between darker and lighter gray flocks were all that remained from her original mane colors), I thought once again how lucky I was to have such an amazing pony as my relative. Thinking that I had the genes of the most admired pony in Stable Eight, even if my own were flawed, always filled me with pride. But there was more than that; she was simply the best grandma ever! She was super kind, would almost always spend time with me whenever I wanted to or when Mom was busy, and always had advice for me whenever something was troubling me.

Like now.

A few days ago, we had been asked during our classes who would want to become after we’d graduate. Although most fillies and colts had said that they don’t know yet, I immediately replied when it was my turn that I wanted to be a doctor.

“Oh yeah?” Candy Bell had exclaimed, looking at me with jeer. “And how will you talk with your patients where you can hardly talk to anypony, Whitey?”

My ears had dropped from embarrassment at the remark (and the sneers that followed), but it have gotten me thinking: Candy Bell had a point. There were only about six ponies in the entire Stable that I was able to talk with comfortably. Anytime I would talk with anypony else, even if they weren’t making fun of me or weren’t sneering at me and would just talk to me like to a normal pony, I would get nervous. I would stutter and have troubles looking them into the eyes. But when I would become a doctor, I would not only have to talk with my patients, I would have to tell them what they have to do to get better, prescribe them medicines and spells and make sure they listen to me. How could I do that?

Realizing that I had to find some way to overcome my conversation problems, I had decided to confide in my grandmother the very same day. I hadn’t done it just because I knew how supportive and kind she was, but because I knew she would have some advice for me on this matter. After all, who knew more about speaking to ponies authoritatively than her?

As I explained to Grandma about what was troubling me, she had looked at me with kind understanding. “I see,” she had said as I finished. “It would be indeed a problem for a doctor if she couldn’t talk to her patients.”

I nodded, my ears dropping in shame as I looked down at the floor.

“Darling, there is nothing to feel shame about,” Granny had almost immediately added. Her hoof reached under my chin and lifted my head up so that my ugly red eyes would meet her beautiful green eyes. “Everypony gets nervous from time to time when they talk with somepony. And the way most of them had been treating you it’s no wonder you have those problems more often,” she had added in a lower, grumbly-like voice, glancing at the door leading out of our living quarters with a dismayed frown. I tilted my head in confusion, but before I could say anything Granny continued, “In any case, dear, I believe I have a solution to your dilema.”

Immediately, my ears perked up and I looked at her attentively, curious what she had in mind.

“What we’re going to do, dear, is teach you the art of eloquence, so that you will know how to control the conversation,” Granny had said, smirking. As I looked at her with confusion again, she explained, “Part of being nervous when talking to others comes from being unsure of what the other pony is going to say or do. Therefore, if you know how to captivate their attention darling, what to say to them and how, and how to make them want to do as you ask of them, you’ll no longer feel nervous.”

Tilting my head, I thought over what Granny had just said. “Hmm… I think I understand...” I said slowly. “It’s something like what Demon once told me about, about not showing fear to bullies and trying to intimidate them?”

“Precisely dear, except you won’t be intimidating ponies but learning how to convince them into agreeing with you or doing what you’d ask them to,” Granny had explained. Then booping my nose she added “And unlike your little friend, I will also teach you how to do it. And I don’t mean to brag, darling, but I think everypony in Stable Eight would agree that there’s nopony better than myself when it comes to convincing others. Of course, there is also the fact that I am always right, but…” Granny continued to rumble about the times from long before my birth, but although I listened and nodded politely, I was busy contemplating with excitement Granny’s words.

It was true, nopony in Stable Eight would ever say that Granny wasn’t a… master of eloquence. Or that she wasn’t always right. I had seen many times how everypony would agree to do whatever she asked them to, even the current Overmare. That the conversation she would have with somepony would always go as she’d wanted it to. I might have never really thought that there could be a way that there could be a way for somepony to learn how to control conversation like her, but now that I had been presented with such possibility…

… the thought that I would be able to talk with others like a normal pony, without feeling nervous, had almost overwhelmed me. In that moment I realized that even if I wouldn’t require better social skills in order to make other ponies better as a doctor, I would still want to learn from my grandmother.

So we started our lessons. First Granny wanted me to learn to speak in the same manner as her. That part was easy; with Granny spending time with me almost everyday for all the eight years of my life, I knew how she spoke by heart. Putting all that knowledge into practice, though - even if for now said practice just involved speaking out loud and before a mirror - was a bit harder.

“Let's take a little break, dear,” Granny said, patting the spot on the couch beside her. Nodding obediently, I trotted over and climbed onto the couch, then reached for the glass of water with my magic, feeling a little perched. “You’re doing very well, but I believe it’s time we start practicing on other ponies. Now,” Granny added, holding her hoof up as I looked at her with worry, having almost spilled my water, “when I say other ponies, I mean Demon or Emerald, or your mom. It’s important that we first build your up confidence so that you’ll feel natural and at ease while speaking, darling,” she explained, gazing at me affectionately, “I would not have you start talking with other ponies yet.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, a little embarrassed that I hadn’t figured out what she had meant. “Although… I already feel at ease while speaking in this manner, Grandmother,” I added, smiling shyly. “After all, I’ve heard you speak like this all my life.”

Granny chuckled and brushed my mane. “True, I suppose, although it’s a tad different speaking like somepony than just hearing them. And besides-”

“- it’s important I also learn what to do when I speak, how to stand and what expression I am making, right?” I finished for her, smiling.

“Exactly, my Little Angel. As I’m sure you realize, maintaining your composure while speaking with somepony will be even harder than just remembering how to speak. But I’m sure you will learn how to do that,” Granny added, her confidence filling me with pride. However, before I could thank her for having such faith in me, she sighed, appearing a little downcast. “It is a pity that you aren’t a bit older though; there are some… special manners of speaking that make convincing colts much easier, but I believe we should wait a few years before I teach those to you.”

“Special manners of speaking?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean? And why would they just work on colts?” I added, unsure why they would work on colts and not on fillies.

“Well, I suppose you could say that they would work on fillies too,” Granny admitted. Smirking and uttering a short giggle, she continued, “From my experiences, it usually makes them nervous at least, giving you the advantage in the conversation if you can use that well. However, I’m sure you’d find that colts a bit more… easier to manipulate with this method,” Granny explained, making a circular motion with her forehoof to emphasize her words. “Which is one of the two reasons why I am not going to teach this method now; you are a very smart filly dear, but I want to be sure you are mature enough to not abuse your powers,” she added, her serious demeanor belaying the funny tone with which she said that last word.

I shiver went down my spine at the implication of Granny’s words.

“Of course,” she added, her gaze relaxing, “I’m sure that if you’d ever abuse them, it would have been unintentionally. I know you’d never wish to harm anypony dear,” Granny said, again brushing my mane affectionately.

I nodded fiercely, not even wanting to imagine harming somepony. Still, I couldn’t help but try to figure out what exactly Granny meant, with this method working better on colts and wanting to wait until I was older before telling me about it, and with this method being able to hurt somepony…

“Oh!” I exclaimed, realization hitting me. I pulled away from Granny, excited that I had figured it out despite how vague hints I had been given. “It’s related to sex, isn’t it?”

I was rewarded with a sight that I had never seen before: my grandmother staring at me in utter bewilderment. Her green eyes were wide open and her mouth was half-opened, as if she was speechless. It was such a weird sight that the elevation I had felt mere seconds ago had left me, replaced with confusion and worry. (And a little bit of amusement; if this wasn’t Granny I would have probably laughed.)

As expected of her, though, she quickly recovered. Shaking her head a little, Granny looked at me, a slight furrow on her brow. “Angel, sweetie, where have you heard that word?”

Now it was my eyes’ turn to be wide opened, with my ears immediately dropping. Granny ever called me “sweetie” only when she was upset with me. (Which of course had happened literally only a few times; I was always “dear”, “darling”, or “Little Angel”.)

“Um… I, um, read about it in Daddy’s medical textbooks,” I hesitely began to reply, stammering; all those eloquence lessons went out of the door. “W-well, to be precise, what I’ve read there was about genitals and reproduction in general, but I-I was curious and wanted to know just how exactly foals are made, so I looked up, the um… s-some other books…” I confessed, knowing that I was only digging myself deeper into trouble.

I felt as if Granny’s eyes were drilling into my soul. “What books?” she asked, calm and not angry despite her frown.

“Um… some books from your private library,” I answered, shaking. Upon Granny uttering a groan and raising her forehoof to her face, I felt myself slightly relax, but only slightly; I was probably still in trouble. “I’m sorry, Granny, I know I’m not supposed to borrow any of your books without asking first, but-”

I finally snapped out of my fear and stopped talking, just before I was about to get Demon in trouble too, by mentioning how he had pointed out to me once that since my grandmother always lends me the books I’d ask for so I might as well just borrow them without asking.

Fortunately, Granny hadn’t paid attention to how I had stopped so abruptly, as she spoke a mere second afterwards, “Yes, well, the whole point of that was so that you wouldn’t read those few books you obviously had, so we can pretty much throw that rule out the Stable door now,” she commented, rolling her eyes.

To my relief, she actually sounded more amused than upset… but I still detected a hint of annoyance in her voice. Looking down at my forehooves, I tried to apologize, “I’m really sorry, Granny.”

I heard her sigh and felt her put her hoof gently on top of my head. “It’s alright, Little Angel, I’m not mad. A little disappointed, maybe,” she added as I looked up at her; I cringed hearing her words, but at the same time I noticed that despite what she said, Granny was smirking at me with amusement. “But I can see you know you shouldn’t have read my books without asking, so for the moment I am more worried about you knowing things a filly shouldn’t learn until they are older. Although in all honesty,” Granny amended, rolling her eyes as she sighed again, “considering how curious you are, we all should have expected you would find out about said things sooner. Soo… how much exactly do you know?”

“Oh, about everything!” I replied, unsure if I should still feel sorry or be proud to show off what I knew. And I knew so much that I didn’t even know what to say first! “I know about all kinds of sex and sexual behaviours, oh and that during their estrus cycle, also called heat, mares can get impregnated during the sexual intercours by a stallion resulting in a pregnancy. And that in a few years I will be going through puberty, resulting in changes caused by the hormonal signals my brain will send to my ovaries, resulting in-”

I would have gone on listing all those changes, then probably would have circled back to sex and started listing all those “positions” from the Zebra Sutra, but Granny had decided to press her hoof against my lips.

“Alright, I believe you, you know everything,” she said; Granny looked as if she couldn’t decide whether she should be amused or disturbed. “Way more than a filly your age should... Well, on the plus side, I suppose you’ve spared your mother having ‘the talk’ with you few years from now,” she added, casting her gaze to the side briefly. “Dear, have you told any other foal about what you know?” Granny asked, again looking at me with a slight frown.

“N-no, I hadn’t,” I replied, thankful that it was true. “I only talk with Demon and Emerald about stuff I learn, and Demon was busy training for the Little League, and Emerald was busy with her internship.”

Granny continued to stare at me for a few seconds, making me nervously wonder if she hadn’t believed me, but fortunately she finally relaxed. “Alright, then here’s what we’ll do darling; we wait until your mom comes home so we can talk about when you should have sex and with whom, and you do not talk about any of this to anypony until you’re older. Do you understand?”

Automatically, I nodded, but I couldn’t help but ask: “Not even Demon?”

“Yes,” Granny replied immediately, her brow again slightly furrowing.

My ears dropped; I didn’t like to keep anything from him.

Seeing my reaction, Granny relaxed the very next second and looked at me thoughtfully. “You can talk about this with Emerald, though.”

I brightened up at that thought; the young mare had always supportive of my interest, even if sometimes it looked as if she was disturbed by them, and would always talk with me about them and whatever I had learned.

“She’s a smart filly and had by now learned how inquisitive you are,” Granny continued. “So I’m sure she won’t be too surprised that you know about sex. And talking with a filly closer to your age will help you understand everything better than listening to old mares like me or your mom,” she added, chuckling.

“But why can’t I talk about it with anypony else?” I asked, not really understanding that part.

“Because those are things fillies and colts are supposed to learn when they are older,” Granny replied, giving out a tired sigh. “When you are of age when you go through puberty and start paying attention to other ponies in that way.”

“Well… that’s silly,” I confessed, frowning. “Why does it have to be until then? Especially since puberty doesn’t begin at a specific age, for each pony it starts at their own time.”

Again, Granny appeared to be somewhat amused. “Yes, well, I don’t make the rules.”

I blinked, confused. “Um, but Granny, didn’t you make like half the rules in Stable Eight?”

“But I didn’t make that one, you smart Little Angel,” Granny countered, looking at me with what I recognized to be a fake annoyance.

“Oh, I see,” I replied, still a little confused. However, I abandoned pondering how weird that rule was as I recalled what we had been talking about originally. “Wait; what was this ‘special manner of speaking’ you’ve mentioned, then?”

“Hm? Oh, right, that…” Granny replied, somewhat hesitantly. After a second, though, she shrugged. “I’ve meant speaking seductively, darling. It’s easier to control the conversation if you appeal to their sexuality, make them think you are interested in them. Which is, again, something that you shouldn’t learn until your older. And as I had mentioned, you could easily hurt somepony’s feelings if you… overuse such skills.”

“I see,” I said once again, although this time I wasn’t sure if I understood her. “So… you mean that by speaking seductively one would make them believe that I am sexually interested in them, and therefore they would, um… ‘lower their guard’?” I asked, recalling the phrase Granny had once used to describe. As she nodded, I frowned, then looked down. “But, Granny… why would they be sexually interested in me? I-I mean,” I added, feeling my eyes become a little wet, “look at me, I’m-”

But Granny didn’t let me finish. Once again, she reached with her hoof under my chin to lift my head so that I could look her in the eyes. As I saw those green eyes full of love, I fell silent. “I am looking at you, Angel, everyday,” Granny said, her voice filling me with warmth. “And everytime I see a beautiful young filly, who is going to grow up into a beautiful mare. Your albinism doesn’t make you any less beautiful; me and your parents have kept telling you this for years. It’s about time you start believing us. And when you do, darling,” she added, her hoof moving from under my chin to my mane, brushing a lock of hair gently from my forehead, “trust me, everypony else will finally stop being stupid and see your beauty.”

Although I had heard similar words many times over, what Granny said stirred something in me as I looked into her eyes. Maybe it was the certainty with which she spoke, maybe the more “grown-up” things we had just discussed a moment before had made me look at this differently, or maybe the fact that she had been teaching me eloquence so that I could control conversation whenever I would talk with a pony, not giving them a chance to look down at me because of my albinism. Possible all of the above.

“You… you really think I’m beautiful, Granny?” I asked quietly, hopefully.

Granny smiled. “You are my granddaughter, and my daughter’s daughter. We’re both beautiful mares - well, at least I used to be,” Granny amended, rolling her eyes with a little frown, making me confused again, “ - so there’s no way you wouldn’t be beautiful, now is there?”

Although I had to agree that what Granny was said was logical, I didn’t understand one part. “Well, um, yes, genetically speaking I should have high chances of being beautiful too.” Except for the recessive genes I had inherited that caused my disorder, I thought, but chose to keep that to myself, too concerned about the more important issue. “But, Granny… why did you say you ‘used to be’ beautiful?” I asked, still not understanding it. “You still are beautiful.”

Granny chuckled warmly. “Thank you, dear, but you should tell that to my wrinkles,” she said, shaking her head.

Now I was even more confused. “Why would your wrinkles make you any less beautiful?” I asked, tilting my head.

My question caused Granny to blink and stare at me for a second in surprise, then to smile. She leaned towards me and kissed me on the forehead. “I sometimes forget how special you are, Little Angel,” she sighed as she moved her head back a little so that we could look each other in the eyes again. “Just between you and me? Of all my grandfoals, or all my descendants even, if I had to pick the most beautiful one, it would be you, my Little Angel,” Granny said, smiling.

My jaw dropped in utter surprise. I knew that Granny wouldn’t lie to me, but… even as immense warmth had began to spread through me at such a phrase, my mind argued that I should disagree, after all I had made my genealogical tree for school and I knew there was no way I could be the most beautiful pony of all Granny’s descendants. As if sensing the conflict within me, though, the older mare pulled me into a hug, stopping my train of thoughts.

“You put too much thought into things that are decided by the heart, darling,” she told me, amusement creeping into her voice. Before I could ask what she meant, she broke the hug and looked at me attentively. “Now, since we still have a few hours before your mom gets home, how about I give you those lessons in talking seductively?”

“I… now?” I exclaimed, my earlier thoughts already dispersing out of sheer surprise as Granny’s question took me aback. “But you said that I should be older, and that you’d want to make sure I wouldn’t abuse those skills…”

Granny chuckled warmly. “Yes, well, I’m pretty sure I also said that I am sure you’d never hurt a pony, didn’t I? Besides, I’m not getting any younger here, better not wait,” she added, chuckling again. “So, are you ready?”

Despite my shock, I almost immediately nodded and jumped down from the couch, and stood in attention before Granny, as eager to learn more as always.

“Alright, first of all: eye contact is important, and you should keep your eyes half-lidded, squinting your eyelids like this…”

It was amusing that, despite the way everypony else was treating me, I consider those to be better days, I mused as I recalled the memory of my grandmother roundabout way of giving me confidence in myself, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over as I remained still due to the S.A.T.S. continuously being active. However, that was about to end. With a mental sigh, I deactivated it. If I ever hope to go back to them, I need to make it through this…

With the S.A.T.S. no longer active, my perception of time had returned to normal, making it seem like everything had unfrozen. As the lead raider resumed trotting towards me carefree, his muzzle resumed twisting into even more lustful expression by seconds as his only good eye scrolling up and down my naked body.

And so, I did the only thing I could to ensure my survival and continued relative comfort. I gazed into his eye, keeping my own seductively half-lidded. “Hello there,” I purred, my voice becoming as sweet as honey. The raider leader stopped, taken aback. “My, I must say, I have never seen a stallion as…” I trailed off, letting my gaze sweep over him appraisingly, then, swish an excited swish of my tale, I finished, locking my ruby eyes with his again, “verile as you.”

The raider leader blinked at me in surprise, and he wasn't the only one. Clearly, it didn’t happen often for a mare such as myself to flirt with any of them, especially not when they had come with an intention to kill.

Eventually, though, the scarred raider recovered. His smirk returned as he crossed what little remained of the distance between us. “Ha! It’s refreshing to meet a bitch that knows her place,” he said, stopping beside me and placing his foreleg around my shoulders. “Well, this is your lucky day,” he said, the side of his face with his good eye (the one turned to me now) grinning. “Since you seem like you're itching for some good fun, we will happily oblige you. But first-”

“‘We’?” I interrupted him, making sure to gaze at him not flirtatiously, not with amusement or outrage, but a gentle surprise. “You intend to share me?”

As I’ve predicted, my ideally acted reaction had caused the raider leader to throw his head back and laugh (along with most of the other raiders). He had also squeezed me a little harder, but otherwise he hadn’t hurt me.

“Aw, being prude now, aren’t you?” the raider leader asked me in an almost patronizing manner, lifting his other forehoof to my chin and slightly raising my muzzle; he probably intended to do so forcibly, but I had obediently moved, not letting him use too much strength. “Sorry little bitch, you don’t get to decide who’ll be rutting you silly.”

It took a lot of willpower to not cringe at such crude language. However, I managed to continue to act as I had planned.

Still looking him in the good eye, I again lowered my eyelids seductively as I put my forehoof on his below my chin. “You misunderstood me, handsome,” I told him quietly, though still perfectly audible for all the others, my hoof sensually brushing along his leg. “I do not mind playing with all of you… I am merely surprised you don’t want to keep me for yourself. Then again,” I added, allowing myself to smirk, “I suppose it’s understandable since you haven’t experienced a night with me yet.”

“Oh?” the raider’s leader exclaimed, sounding intrigued. “You’re saying you’re that good in the sheets, huh?”

Uttering a giggle, I looked at him with a mixture of patronizing and sexual admiration. “Do you know how many erogenous zones there are on a pony’s body?” Not waiting for an answer - especially since I wasn’t sure if he knew what ‘erogenous zones’ actually were; by the way his ears had perked though I assumed he had at least he reacted to the ‘ero’ part - I leaned to his ear. “I do. I know each and every erogenous zone of a pony’s body, as well as the most sensual ways to… stimulate them,” I added sultry as I drew back, my hoof slipping from his leg to his neck, caressing it.

The raider stared at me, defocused, as his brain was being stimulated by the signals I was sending into thinking about mating. His grip around my shoulders had loosened, and he was obviously not paying attention to what was around him, so lost he was in the thoughts his mind was conjuring and in my ruby gaze. Had I had a knife with me, I would have probably could have quite easily stab him in the throat, ending the life of a raider viscous enough to survive whatever had left those scars on his face. Alas, I didn’t have any weapon.

Because I wouldn’t need one to end them all.

With the raider’s grip so loose, I easily slipped free from it. “A night with me, alone, would be like an eternity in Heaven,” I told him as I trotted slowly past him while brushing my naked coat against his chest and neck, flickering my tail near his nose and turning my head back to capture him in my seductive gaze again.

I suppressed any thought about actually having a coitus with this repulsive savage. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to not shake with disgust if I thought about it too much.

After several seconds - during which the scarred raider’s penis began to emerge from its sheath - I turned my gaze away, just as his mouth began to open. “But if you intend to share me with others,” I spoke up in a sultry tone, cutting him off before he could even utter a single word, “then that’s your choice.” My eyes scanned the crowd around me. All those raiders were staring at me, almost all with lust in their eyes. I let my eyes linger on a few of them - those that were bigger or more scarred, all that seemed most likely to start act violently - before smiling in the most sultry manner, tilting my head slightly and asking, “Well, who’s first?”

About three bucks jumped the very next seconds towards me, and would have no doubt been joined by more if their leader wouldn’t have gave out an excited yowl. At the sound of his voice those three froze and turned their eyes from me to him. With satisfaction I noted that while they have been startled by the scarred raider, their expressions were more angry than scared.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a very nice find,” the raider leader said as he trotted over to me. He slapped my flank and chuckled when, despite my composure, I did shudder a little and yelped, which I managed to make sound like a pleased moan. “Oh, you will fit right in baby with that attitude. But before you and I get to know each other a little better-”

“And why exactly do you get to fuck her first?” one of the three raiders that had tried to reach me spoke up unexpectedly, frowning the scarred buck.

The raider’s leader paused to cast him an annoyed deadpanning glare - in which I managed to catch a subtle threat - before continuing, “- we actually came here looking for whoever killed some of our guys a few miles back there. That wouldn’t happen to be you, wouldn’t it?” he asked, his tone jovial, but despite that his good eye glared at me cautious suspicion.

It was tempting to lie and tell him that it had indeed been me who killed their comrades, to see fear once again in the eyes of my adversary, like with Scope. I was curious how he and the others would react; would they laugh and think that I was joking, or would they believe me and I would gain some respect from them? However, the possibility of them killing me in retaliation was far more believable to me, so I didn’t even seriously consider it.

Sighing, I admitted the truth. “I believe they were killed by my companions.”

“Your companions?” the scarred back asked, immediately on alert.

“We were attacked by a group of five ponies, and my companions had killed them,” I continued, ignoring the raider leader as he glanced at few of his raiders and motioned with his head, giving them some sort of signal. The ones he had looked at began to turn and look around, probably on a lookout for anypony who could be near. “Most unfortunate turn of events.”

“I see. And those companions of yours are… where exactly?” he asked, his gaze hardening.

“Hm? Oh,” I exclaimed, as if only now I realized what he was implying, “they’re dead. Those things in the Stable had killed them almost as soon as we’ve began to explore it.”

The scarred raider blinked in surprise, possibly due to my rather balant tone, then relaxed again. “‘Things’, you say?”

“Yes, some weird monsters,” I lied, shaking a little. Based on the opinions regarding Stables circulating in the Equestrian Wasteland that I have heard so far and the conversations Apple Core had with Blast regarding what fate could have befallen Stable Eleven, I was fairly certain the raiders were going to believe this little story. “I didn’t get a good look at them. When they began slaughtering my companions I immediately ran back through the door and closed it.”

“Oh, is that so?” the scarred buck asked, glancing at those few raiders he had ordered to look around. They now had all turned back to him, all shaking their heads. Immediately he brightened up, his hard gaze disappearing as he looked back at me. “Well, since nopony is lying in waiting for us, I guess this means those things did our job for us. Now,” he added, placing his hoof on my back and proceeding to slide it down along my spine, “how about we-”

“Wait, seriously Clawface?!” one of the raiders, a mare, spoke up.

The scarred raider - apparently aptly named Clawface - turned to her with annoyance plain on his face, taking his hoof off me. I hoped that it didn’t show how I’d relaxed when he did so, despite my composure, I grew a little tense as his hoof neared my tail.

“You’re just gonna believe what that little horny bitch says?” the mare continued, her eyes glaring at me with venom before turning back to Clawface. “We should check the Stable to make sure.”

A slight wave of panic went over me, but for the moment I remained silent. I had to see how would things play out first before intervening.

“You want to get killed?” the scarred raider replied, snorting. “Be my guest. It would be funny if your stupidity kills you, like your brother.” Smirking, he glanced at another raider and asked, “Why’d he take the others out, again?”

“He said that the sprite-bot was spying on us,” the raider replied with a grin.

Oh, I exclaimed internally, recalling the raider from yesterday that had apparently noticed Watcher spying on them as a ripple of laughter went through the crowd around me. So she’s the sister of that buck… Hm, come to think of it, this situation is sort of Watcher’s fault… I wonder if that’s the reason why he’s helping me, maybe he feels guilty…

Dispersing the thought for now, I turned my attention to the raider mare, who, oddly, only seemed mildly angried by the remark regarding her brother. “If you’re done comparing me to that idiot,” she began (Huh, so much for sibling’s love amongst the raiders I suppose…), “maybe you fuckers will take the time to notice that you’re all thinking with your dicks right now. This bitch wagged her tail at you and you-”

“Forgive me, sweetie,” I interrupted her.

As entertaining as I found hearing somepony point out how stupid raiders were to be, I couldn’t risk this mare making them see what I was doing. Because of that, I decided to intervene. Fortunately, I was still under the effect of Party-Time Mint-als’ illuminating clarity, and I could easily pick just the right words to get the results I wanted.

Thanks to that, as I tilted my head and looked at her with surprise, I asked, “Are you… jealous?”

The raider mare turned to me, her eyes wide. “What?” she asked after a few seconds, her voice leveled, as if she really wasn’t sure if she had heard me right.

“Why, there’s no need to,” I continued, trotting towards her, but then stopping beside Clawface and turning to him. “I think I can manage to keep two ponies satisfied at the same time… what do you say?” I asked him, nodding my head in the direction of the raider mare without looking at her.

I didn’t have to wait long for her reaction, and even though I had suspected it, I wasn’t quite prepared for the pain that exploded in my chest as she turned around and bucked me with her hind hooves. Uttering a yelp, I fell to the ground, looking at my assailant with a mixture of hurt, fear and confusion.

The mare had turned back around and was slowly advancing on me. “Alright, you little-”

I would never know what “little” thing I was going to be called, as in that moment she was shot several time. Startled by the noise, I looked from the falling bloodied body of the raider mare to Clawface, who was now held his gun with his magic.

Well, that’s a start I suppose… I noted, glancing at the dead raider. Though honestly, I expected him to just hit her for now.

I wasn’t the only one startled, the other raiders were also looking at their leader with surprise. “Boss, you… you killed her,” one of them exclaimed, his eyes wide open.

“Great observation,” Clawface commented as he strapped his weapon on his back again. Upon noticing that more than a few raiders were staring at him, he frowned and growled, “What? I was getting tired of that bitch anyway, and now she dared to hit my newest possession? She should be grateful it was quick and she can now be with her idiot brother,” he added, snorting. Then, turning to me, he began, “Now, how about we-”

“We?”

“Celestia rape me,” Clawface muttered to himself before turning to address the raider who spoke up, “what?!”

Clenching my teeth, I somehow managed to otherwise show no reaction how indignant I felt upon hearing such curse.

Turning my attention back to the conversation at hoof, I watched as one of the raiders walked up from the crowd. “Nothing, boss, just curious if by ‘we’ you mean all of us, or just you and this slut.”

“So what if I do?” Clawface replied, not even bothering to answer the rather obvious question. “You’ll all get a turn with her back at our place. Eventually,” he added, shrugging.

Despite the supposedly casual demeanor with which he had said that, I noticed that his eyes never left the raider that had spoken up. His ears were also perked, indicating that he was on alert in case anypony else were to make any sudden moves.

“What if I don’t want to wait that long?” the raider countered, narrowing his eyes at his leader. “What if none of us want to wait?”

“Then I guess that’s your problem,” Clawface told him, then took a step towards him. The raider’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “And if you’ll want to continue this conversation, you’re going to have a problem the size of a bottle cap in the middle of your forehead,” he added, continuing to walk towards him until he stood before him, his magic enveloping his gun. The next second it was already pointed at a raider, but not the one that he had been threatening, but another one, who was standing behind me. “And so will anypony else who’s gets impatient.”

Glancing at the raider, I realized that he had been reaching for his weapon. However, he quickly gave up on that finding himself at the end of Clawface’s gun’s aim.

Several of the raiders had seemingly gotten the message, as they suddenly appeared to try and look as non-threatening as possible. More than one had sat down and raised their forehooves.

“Hey, it’s cool boss, we don’t mind waiting,” one of them assured him.

“Yeah, have fun,” another one, a mare from the opposite side of the circle, added, smiling nervously.

Clawface nodded with satisfaction at her, but at that moment as he looked away, the raider who had spoken up against him reached with his muzzle for a gun. He aimed it at the scarred raider before anypony could shout out a warning, although in all honesty I doubted anypony would want to even if they could. However, it wasn’t necessary; Clawface’s hoof shot out, hitting the raider’s muzzle hard and forcing the gun out of his mouth. Grimacing angrily, he brought his rifle against him… but didn’t shoot him.

Surprised that I hadn’t rid both myself and the Wasteland of another raider, I turned my gaze at Clawface’s expression, wondering why he hesitated. The scarred buck was staring at his would-be victim thoughtfully, his mouth half-open.

“Wait a moment…” he slowly said, blinking… and then turning towards me. “Was this your plan? To get us all to kill each other so that nopony would rape you?” he asked, waving his gun around as he looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and slight but growing anger.

Despite myself, my eyes slightly widened in surprise as every single raider turned to look at me. Truth be told, I had expected them to figure this out sooner or later, but I had hoped that I would manage to get them to kill several more ponies from among their group. Preferably most of them.

Well, I suppose I still could, but that would involve prolonging this part of my plan by actually having coitus with them, I noted as I quickly considered my chances while the surrounding raiders all turned towards me. Even if I would manage to convince Clawface that it haven’t been my intention to get them to kill each other, I suspected that he might decide to be careful and let the others have their ‘fun’ with me. I preferred to avoid such possibility. Guess it’s time for the second phase then…

Throwing my head back, I uttered a very loud sigh, “Fine,” I said with exasperation, causing the raiders to cringe in surprise because of the volume of my voice. Turning my head back towards Clawface, I smiled and continued, “You saw right through my elaborate plan. I must admit, I hadn’t counted on the pony leading you raiders to be so smart.”

My flattery had mollified some of the anger that have no doubt been stirring inside of the scarred buck, giving me the previous few seconds I needed. Although Clawface smirked and took a step towards me, he still hadn’t hurt me. “Still thinking you can sweet-talk your way out of this, bitch?” he asked, his attitude towards me having grown noticeably colder. “If you were smart, you would have lied and said that you wanted all of us to fuck you. We would have treated you… a little nicer,” he said, uttering a chuckle that was quickly picked up by the other raiders.

“As gracious consideration as that would have been, I don’t really have to bother thinking about it,” I replied, backing away a little despite my confident tone as Clawface continued to advance upon me. I was aware how close behind me the other raiders were standing, though, so I didn’t take any big steps. Just enough to still held some distance between me and their leader. “After all, none of you will ‘fuck me’, as you had put it.”

My words caused another wave of laughter. “Oh really?” Clawface asked, laughing alongside the others as he stopped. His gun had returned to its strappings on his back by then; clearly, he was confident that he could overpower me without it. The few others put away their weapons as well; appearing so weak and defenseless had its perks. “And what is gonna stop us, slut?” the scarred buck asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Oh, I am glad you asked, sweetie,” I told him, smiling as I noted that every raider was looking at me and nothing else, then pointed with my hoof. “That thing behind you.”

“Ha!” Clawface exclaimed, looking at me with ridicule. “Do you really think any of us is going to fall for that old-”

He stopped abruptly, his sentence turning into a surprised and alarmed shriek as a red beam shot right past him, then past myself, hitting the raider on my right side behind me as the yelp of pain that followed indicated. Even as Clawface and everypony else began to turn around, the sprite-bot shot another beam of magical energy, hitting the raider on my left.

I didn’t stay to see how many more Watcher would be able to hit. The moment the commotion had began, I’ve whirled around and dashed towards the cellar door. As I did, I was greeted to the sight of the second hit raider erupting with red glow an instant before disintegrating into ash. Like all magical energy weapons, the small gun the sprite-bot had been built with had a small chance to cause such reaction in the hit target. The raider Watcher shot first, for example, had only suffered only a burn mark on the side of his head. It probably hurt a lot and untreated by a professionalist would leave him with a scar, but he would live. The other’s remains were already being scattered as I had raced past him.

I didn’t even grace his ashes with a second thought; behind me were twenty two angry raiders. There was no way the lone sprite-bot would be able to kill them all. Watcher had assured me that all it would take was a one well-aimed shot to destroy it (or several badly-aimed). Which is why we had agreed that he would take action only upon receiving my signal. Watcher had stayed out of sight until he heard me utter that exasperated “fine”, then, having taken advantage of the fact that every raider had eyes only on me he quietly had moved with the sprite-bot around them. Once he positioned it directly opposite from me, Watcher shot the two ponies blocking the way behind me, momentarily disabling them (Well, one of them and killing the other as it had turned out.) and distracting everypony else.

At least a second to recover, another to turn around and grab their weapons, one more to aim and shoot… I got only three seconds at minimum, I calculated as I ran. The plan was that Watcher would get the sprite-bot to hide behind some cover so that I would have a few more seconds, but it was safer to base my plan accounting for the worst odd. Fortunately, it should be enough…

Already as I crossed a mere few yards I heard shots, the raiders trying to destroy the sprite-bot. Amidst them I managed to detect the sound of the machine’s magical laser gun as Watcher returned fire. I took comfort in knowing that my ally continued to buy me time, but the next heartbeat I heard something that - despite being part of the plan - caused my comfort to evaporate.

“Hey, she’s running!” one of the raiders had shout out.

Don’t take comfort, don’t relax, I told myself, running as fast as my legs could carry me, not until this is over. Then-

BLAAM!!!

My brow furrowed at the realization of what that exploding sound that had disrupted my thought process must have meant.

The sprite-bot was destroyed. Watcher was gone. I was alone.

Again, despite everything going according to my plan so far, I felt a cold shimmer of fear take a hold of me. Fortunately, it was different than when Scope had shot Jack. Then fear paralyzed me and caused me to panic. Now, fear served as a great motivator to run faster.

“After her!” I heard Clawface bellow.

I resisted the urge to look behind me, knowing that if I tripped and fell it would be over. Not that looking behind would help me in any way, especially since by then I had skirted behind one of the more intact barracks (at least, the single surviving wall was intact enough to hid me from their line of sight), giving me some measure of safety.

“Find her!” Clawface continued. “But don’t fucking shoot her; I want that little bitch alive!”

Well, there’s another measure of safety, I suppose, I remarked as I hurried towards the Rock Farm’s main office building, heading for the cellar door.

I didn’t feel safe, of course; I could plainly hear the clopping of eighty eight hooves as the raiders rushed after me, spreading so they could maneuver between the ruins of the barracks easily and cover more ground in case I tried to hide.

If I wasn’t running for my life (which despite the relatively short distance had already began to cause me to suffer from dyspnea), I would have probably smirked at the thought of me merely hiding, and out on the Outside no less.

Having reached the entrance to the cellar, I stopped, catching my breath and finally looking behind me. As nerve-wracking as it was to stop, I needed to make sure they knew where I had gone. Only when a raider emerged from around the ruins of another barrack and spotted me, I jumped inside, heading for the Stable.

“Here! I found her!” I heard as I raced through the tunnel towards the Stable’s opened door.

Now, I thought, the last stage of the plan...

“Boss, but what if what that bitch said about those monsters was true?”

“You think she would have fucking entered the Stable if that was true?” Clawface snorted. “Stupid slut must have thought it was scare us enough to not chase her down here.”

“But-”

A click of a gun. “You can go in like this, or with a bullet in your hoof. Then, if there are ‘monsters’ in there you won’t be able to run.”

“Um, yeah, I think I’m good.”

“Good. Anybody else get scared because of that slut’s ghost story? No? Okay, then spread out! Find that bitch and capture her, alive! We’re going to have fun with her, boys and girls, for a very long time. The one who captures her will get to fuck her first!” he added, as if an afterthought, which was followed by excited stomping and malicious laughter from the other raiders as they ventured deeper into the Stable.

Savages, I remarked, rolling my eyes from my hiding spot as I waited for them sounds of their hooves to grow quieter before making my move.

As I had expected, their leader - along with most of the raiders, despite one or two voicing their hesitation - were determined to capture me after our encounter and the annoyance that I had caused them. The tale of the monsters and the pony skeletons present in the Stable Entrance though caused them to be cautious enough to go in together. After seeing me run away, they expected me to run further into the Stable, attempting to hide away from them.

Well, they got the ‘hide’ part right. However, I hadn’t run too deep into the Stable; I was still at the Entrance. The small side room of the chamber where the machinery that served to open the massive door (which in Stable Eight served as a security post) was the perfect hiding spot, especially if one had enough time to hid inside the cardboard box she had previously dragged there from Maintenance wing (this specific part of my plan had earned me a lot of ridicule from Watcher, and while I didn’t blame him, I had no other cover I could have been able to transport there in such a short time). And I had enough time, thanks to the raiders waiting in the tunnel before the Stable Eleven’s door for them all to gather before following me. I had counted on them to disregard the room, due to it being so close to the entrance, and my assumption had proven correct.

Now, just to wait until they are away… I mused, my forehooves still on my muzzle to stop myself from making any noise, and my ears perked. I realized that I couldn’t hear them as well now, but the change was too sudden for them to be further away. With annoyance, I realized that it must mean the effects of Party Time Mint-al had wore off. It is fortunate that I no longer need to converse with those brutes. I will have to be even more careful though; the decrease of my senses could be distracting if I’m not.

Worse yet, I couldn’t wait too long. It would be better if the raiders were further away, sure, but there was a likely chance that some of them would decide to ignore Clawface’s orders and wait outside, or just that it might be better for somepony to guard the entrance. The latter possibility was almost assured to happen once they explored deeper into the Stable. No, if my plan were to work, I had to act now.

I had to close the Stable, trapping them inside.

Out of all option available to me, this was the only one that ensured success and lack of harm on my person. Or Apple Core’s. Soon after deciding upon this course of action, I had prepared a mixture composed mostly of liquefied Buck and condensed Dash at just the right proportions that had stirred her awake from her alcohol induced slumber long enough for her to make her way up to the main office building (and to carry all of Burst’s and Blast’s belongings Jack had left along with some of his own back in Overmare’s quarters; I assumed the griffin mercenary wouldn’t have been happy about them ending locked up with the raiders). I hadn’t had told her truthfully why though, not wanting to cause her to worry and try to fight or run away, both of which would interfere with my plan. Instead, I had told her that I didn’t want to make Ditzy wait too long after arriving for us to be ready to leave and in her tired, sleepy, low on blood, slightly inebriated and drugged stated that was all the explanation she had needed. Now she was once again sleeping, safely locked further in the main office building.

If I had woken her up, I would have probably had to leave her locked up in the Overmare wing, I remarked, thankful that I hadn’t had to resort to that. Jack would probably figure out a way to take the raiders out before she’d have run out of food, but I doubt she would appreciate that… In any case, I added, snapping myself back to the present moment, I think they are far away now.

I could barely hear them anymore, and some of the red bars had disappeared from my E.F.S. It was the time to act. As quietly as I could, I lifted the cardboard box and crept from under it, trotting into the Stable Eleven’s Entrance and heading for the controls.

The ones inside the Stable.

One couldn’t open the door of a Stable without a specific override code, not even from the inside. However, there was a small chance that it was recorded somewhere within Stable Eleven, most likely in the terminal in the Overmare’s office (which had survived the explosion Scope had caused; Stable-Tec had made those terminals impressively durable), which is why I had closed the Overmare wing after Apple Core and I had left it. Even so, despite that precaution and the doubt I had regarding the raiders ability to operate such technology (If I were a pony that displayed belittling attitude often, I would probably comment on having doubts whether those could operate even a simple switch.), I wasn’t going to allow a possibility for them to escape.

I was going to destroy the door’s control mechanism on the inside of the Stable (or just damage enough for it to be non operational anymore) before closing the door from the outside, and in my mouth I carried something that would help me do it; one of Blast’s grenades that I had left there earlier especially for this moment.

Walking around with an explosive in my mouth, now that is the stupid part of this plan, I commented, rolling my eyes, as I passed next to the passage leading further into the Stable, listening. When I couldn’t hear anypony, I turned back towards the controls. Weird how it didn’t seem to bother Watcher as much as the cardboard box…

Having reached the control mechanism, I carefully placed the grenade on it, using the lever that opened and closed the door as a support. Adjusting it gently with my hooves, I let go of it, but then almost immediately had to adjust it as it slightly quivered, beginning to slide down. It took me a few more seconds, but the apple-like shaped explosive was finally secured. Sighing silently with satisfaction, I turned my head back towards the Stable, where the raiders were.

The second this explodes, they will come back. I will have to be quick, I thought, glancing in the opposite direction, out the Stable door. About two seconds to reach the door, one, maybe two more to start working on the control mechanism… how long does it take for this thing to explode after pulling the pin, again? I wondered, looking at the grenade with an unhappy frown.

However long exactly it was, I was certain that I should be able to at least reach the control mechanism, so I would be shielded from the explosion by the wall of the Stable. I didn’t have to worry about that… and given the distance the raiders had crossed (only a few red bars showed up on my E.F.S. now), there was no way they would be back before I closed the door.

Now or never, I finally decided, taking a deep breath, and leaned towards the grenade. Pressing my forehoof against it so it wouldn’t fall off the lever, I reached with my mouth for the pin, grabbed it with my teeth, then slowly, carefully, pulled it out.

CLICK!

Interesting how loud that sounded to me, but I suppose my ear was right against it. Regardless, hearing that reminded me just how dangerous the thing I was currently touching was. It almost caused me to jerk my hoof away, but I managed to remain calm somehow and take it away slowly so that I wouldn’t cause it to roll down. As soon as I moved my hoof, though, and made sure the grenade stayed in its place, I immediately ran for the door.

Quick quick quick! I thought in panic as I jumped through the exit, then hid myself behind the control mechanism, standing as far away from the door as I could while still operating it. Come on, close-

KaBOOM!

My hooves covered my ears as the noise rang through my body. Even though I knew that it was going to happen, I was still scared by it. And a little deafened, as I realized upon hearing a faint ringing noise in one ear. Still, as I had expected I was out of the explosion’s range and wasn’t wounded. Aside from my ear I suppose, but it should be alright in but a few moments.

Shaking my head, I returned to work. I had no doubt that the raiders were on their way back; the door needed to be closed, and within the next second, a familiar sound of alarm rang out, announcing that the process had began.

Well, that’s that, I noted with satisfaction, glancing through the entrance.

The control mechanism on the inside was destroyed; the console panel, full of cracks and burns, now hung down from it on one cable. Around it were several ruptured ones with sparks arcing around it. Some pieces, the level I used as a support for the grenade among them, laid on the floor around it. But most importantly; as that awful grinding noise emanated as the door began to close, there were no raiders in the chamber.

Looks like I won my bet with Watcher, I commented, turning around and trotting back towards the cellar door. Me, a weak Stable pony, defeated a band of twenty four raiders, with no weapons or magic, just words and a plan. Well, and a little help, I amended. But I was still amazing, wasn’t I? Darlings? I asked after second, surprised by the lack of reply from Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie. Are you, um, here? Come to think of it, you two were awfully quiet… Is it because I left the statuettes in the main office building? I wondered. Hm, that must be it. Well, I guess I have yet another proof that it’s those statuettes and not that I’m crazy-

“YOU BITCH!”

Startled, I looked back. The door of Stable Eleven were almost closed. Almost. In about the next second, the gap that was still left would be closed, and the mechanism would push the massive door forward, completely locking it. However, for the moment, the gap was still wide enough for a pony to go through it, if they were fast enough.

And right on the other side of the door was Clawface and his raiders.

“Oh…” I exclaimed before snapping out of my shock and began running for my life.

I didn’t wait to see if he would make it through the door; he was running when I had looked at him, he would easily make it. As would one or two other raiders that were closest to him.

Okay, think what you can do! I thought, panicking, as I willed my legs to move faster. I… I could go to the building, the bear trap would get one of them! And… and I left some Buck and Dash there! I remembered as I bursted out of the cellar back unto surface, thinking back to the stash of drugs from the Overmare’s mini-bar. I dashed to the right, running along the side of the building as I headed for the door. Maybe, maybe if I take them I may be able to overpower them… Or-

The rest of my thoughts had escaped me as something swiped my hind legs, causing me to fall forward and sending me rolling across the ground, past the building. I yelped in surprise and pain as I felt as if the rough surface flayed my coat. For a moment I could have sworn that I saw Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, both shouting my name in alarm, but as I came to a stop and was able to somewhat focus, the apparitions were nowhere to be seen or heard.

“You bitch…” I heard a rasping, gasping voice. Still little disoriented after my fall, I shakingly tried to rise, lifting myself on my forelegs, and looked around. When I spotted Clawface standing right beside me, with two more raiders right behind him, my eyes widened in terror and my heart skipped a beat. “You little bitch…” he repeated, all three of them breathing heavily after galloping from however deep in the Stable they had managed to get. “Thought you were clever, didn’t you?”

To say that Clawface’s scarred face, so close to my own, unsettled me, was an understatement. Despite all of my resolve, I had found myself once again frozen with fear, just like with Scope. The raider was seething with fury, glaring at me with his eye as he caught his breath. Slowly, his muzzle twisted into a savage grin, as if the anger was giving way to amusement.

As he stayed silent for a few seconds, I fought desperately to think of something, anything, that would help me right now. However, my thoughts were muddled, whether because of fear or because of the withdrawal after having taken the Party Time Mint-al.

“I…” I managed to say, but as I trailed off, a forehoof hit me right in the muzzle.

Uttering a yelp from the pain, I fell with the strike, landing back on the ground. My face stung where I was hit, and after a moment of desorientation, I realized that I could taste blood.

“What, have nothing to say?” I heard Clawface asked, prompting the two other raiders to chuckle mockingly. I turned my head to look at him as I tried again to rise, licking nervously the wound on lip. Clawface’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said quietly, leaning forward and stomping against my stomach, causing another dosage of pain for me. “You’re going to stay on the ground,” the raider added, moving forward as I groaned. He pressed his hoof against my chest and put his weight on it, turning my groans to yelps. I grabbed it with my forehooves, trying to move it, but I might as well had tried to move a mountain. Lowering his face down, he looked me in the eyes from the close distance and continued, “We’re going to have some fun now, you see. Then, when we’re done, you are going to release the rest of our gang from that fucking Stable. And then,” he added, putting even more pressure on my chest, “we’re going to lay you down right beside the door and close it so it will pulverize your legs. You won’t need them when we get you back to our camp,” he added, smirking maliciously.

His words managed to get through the fear that had engulfed me and the pain. I turned my full attention to him, blinking in surprise after hearing what he intended to do to me… and despite my predicament, I asked a question before I could stop myself, out of simple confusion, “Wait, was that supposed to compel me to open the Stable back for you? Hearing that you plan to use it to pulverize me legs with it?”

Clawface stared at me silently through narrowed eyes, blinking as if not sure if his senses weren’t failing him.

“Because I’m pretty sure that now I will definitely not open it for you,” I continued, frowning. The sheer idiocy of his statement helped me to recover my composure a little, apparently. I decided to not point out that I hadn’t planned to free them anyway and instead added, “Especially since you’re about to rape me, I would rather not get raped by nineteen more of you.”

“Eighteen,” one of the other two raiders spoke up unexpectedly. Both myself and Clawface turned to him (with me lifting my head a little due to my position) as he added, “Flayer got caught by the door when it was closing.”

Clawface looked at him with utter bemusement. “Dude, why the fuck are you-” he began, gesticulating with his free hoof at me and him, before stopping mid sentence, looking up into the clouded sky and shaking his head… and then bringing that hoof down on my face, punching me hard. For a moment, everything became black and silent; I wasn’t sure if I had passed out, but if I did, it couldn’t have lasted more than a second. When I ‘came to’, everypony was still where they were, except now Clawface was also pressing his hoof against my throat, almost choking me. “You know,” he said, glaring at me, “I am very tempted to cut that annoying tongue of your. But I’m not going to do that. Do you want to know why?” He leaned to my ear and as I instinctively closed my eyes out of fear he told me: “Because I want to hear you scream as I shove my dick up your-YAAAAAAAUGH!”

The sudden scream of pain - shouted right into my ear - had caught me by an utter surprise. I stared at Clawface in confusion as he pulled away from me, clutching the good side of his face. Which was smoking.

Now that my lungs and throat weren’t being crushed and I could pay attention to my surroundings, I realized that there was a green bar lighted up on my E.F.S.

Watcher? I wondered, still a little disoriented.

Who else could it be? Especially since it appeared as if Clawface had been just hit by some type of magical energy weapon. It seemed most logical that Watcher had taken control of the closest sprite-bot in the area and flew it back here to check on me. As I heard another raider yell while with the corner of my eye I caught a red flash of magical beam, I turned my head, expecting to see another oval flying machine… and instead seeing a big figure, all covered by a brown robe with a hood slided down on his face even as he fired another shot from its gun.

Is that… the Hooded Figure? I wondered, recalling the short tales I had heard about the mysterious pony. That some were considering it to be a myth, others were scared of it, and others had claimed to have met it. It certainly matches the description…

I was pulled out of my musing rather unpleasantly by the sound of a pony disintegrating; the last shot from the Hooded Figure had caused this to the last remaining raider (the other one having been shot in the throat earlier and was currently dying).

Well, second to last remaining I suppose, I noted, glancing back.

Clawface was still alive, having crawled away from me due to pain as he continued to clutch his face, uttering a lot of curses in a voice full of pain and… panic? Perking my ears, I managed to catch two words among that verbal onslaught of eloquence that explained it all.

“My eye, my fucking eye...”

Grimacing a little at the realization - which caused my battered face to sting a little from stretching my cheeks like that - I tried to move away as far as possible from the raider before he decided to attack blindly. Already, I could see his horn glowing and magic enveloping his rifle; I suspected the only reason why he hadn’t shot back at his assailant yet was that he couldn’t have focused due to the pain. Even now he had troubles drawing his weapon out, giving me more time to try and get up on my hooves.

However, it turned out that I didn’t need too. Before Clawface could even fire, another beam shot out from the Hooded Figure, hitting the raider right at his horn. With a pained shout, his telekinetic spell had imploded, dropping the gun. The raider fell to the ground, moaning and now clutching his horn, where a very ugly burn marked the spot he had been hit. Doing so he revealed the wound he received earlier; the area around his eye had also been burned, and his eye was completely gone.

“Are you alright?” a strange voice, coming from nearby, asked.

Turning my head away from the raider, I realized that in the time I had been looking at Clawface, the Hooded Figure had crossed the distance separating us. The huge stranger now stood right beside me, towering over me. If I hadn’t just been threatened with rape and mutilation, I would probably felt at least a little shiver of fear, talking with a pony so big, who had killed two ponies and grievously wounded another so easily. Not to mention how unsettling it was to talk with somepony without being able to see their face; the shadow of the hood had completely hidden it. However, the fact that this stranger had saved me, coupled with how gentle his weird voice sounded, helped me to remain calm.

“Yes, I am,” I managed to reply, giving up trying to stand up and settling on sitting on my haunches. “Thanks to you, sweetie. You attacked them right where they were… well, thank you,” I finished, suddenly finding myself a little uncomfortable at speaking about what they were about to do.

As if not talking about it would make it seem that it hadn’t almost happened.

The Hooded Figure’s hooded head turned back towards the raider. To my surprise, a low growl escaped from under that hood, making my ears twitch. I hadn’t imagined a pony to sound so… animalistic.

“Give me a second,” the Hooded Figure growled back to me, in a voice that I finally was able to pinpoint as male, then moved towards Clawface.

Frowning, I watched as the massive pony passed me, a little confused as to what he meant. While the Hooded Figure walked, I took the opportunity to look him over, only to realize that the robe truly covered my saviour completely; not even hooves were visible from under it. A little disappointed, I turned my gaze up at the Hooded Figure’s haunches as they moved under the robe-

I blinked. Those weren’t pony’s haunches. With my knowledge regarding a pony’s anatomy, it was easy to spot such thing even through a robe. The haunches were too low, the shoulders were too wide, the withers were a little too high (and I expected that they were only ‘a little’ because their owner was walking around lowering their body, given the way those front legs moved under the robe) … After hearing Blast’s tale about meeting the Hooded Figure, I had thought that maybe it had suffered some mutation, hence the robe. However, I doubted that a mutation could change pony’s anatomy so drastically. Also, the Hooded Figure definitely did not move like a pony, rather, it looked as if somebody trying to imitate how a pony would walk.

Wondering what exact creature my saviour was, I found my gaze once again traveling down, maybe because I hoped that an edge of the robe would draw up a little, giving me some clue. Instead, however, my attention was drawn to what the Hooded Figure had walked through; the ashes one of the raiders had been turned into. Or, more specifically, the prints the mysterious stranger had left on them.

Are they… griffin’s prints? I wondered, tilting my head as I looked over them. They looked a bit similar to Jack’s hind paws, but as I mentally compared them, I realized that those were much leaner, the heel pad (which I only assumed was called such, based on the books I’ve read about anatomy of other creatures like cats) had only three lobes, one on the front and two on the rear, the finger pads were closer together and there were also claw marks next to them. They… look similar to canine paws, I realized, surprised. But that would mean…

I trialled off at the sounds of rapsing shriek. Turning my head, I saw the Hooded figure lifting Clawface up by his throat. To my annoyance, I couldn’t see the forelegs of my saviour from where I was, his body was in my line of sight. However, I was able to tell that he lifted his other leg towards Clawface, placing it just below his throat. The next moment the raider’s shrieks turned into a gut-wrenching scream, a mere heartbeat before the Hooded Figure pulled.

I watched as with a squelching-like noise he pulled out Clawface’s sternum, along with his costal cartilages and anterior ends of the ribs, exposing his lungs. My jaw dropped at the shockingly brutal display as blood splashed around the Hooded Figure. The raider’s body jerked violently, but he quickly began to lose his strength; even his screams faltered. The Hooded Figure wasn’t finished, however. Whether he wanted to kill him in even more gruesome way or simply end his suffering, he brought up his leg to his exposed organs and plunged inside, ripping out Clawface’s heart and dropping it down to the ground, next to the ripped out part of his chest. The Hooded Figure continued to hold Clawface himself by the throat, though, for several more seconds, during which the raider gradually stopped twitching. Finally, he dropped his lifeless body to the ground.

Black Widow had mentioned that some ponies had been found killed in “a gory fashion” sometimes in the area after the Hooded Figure had been seen, I recalled. It would appear those tales weren’t exactly farfetched.

Despite that and the scene I’ve just bore witness to - as well as what I had realized - as the Hooded Figure turned back to me, I hadn’t flinched in fear, not even a little. He had just saved me, and not only that, he asked me if I were okay. Maybe he displayed an unnecessary level of brutality, but I was certain that I had nothing to fear from him.

“Um, sorry about that,” he said, a little hesitantly. As I looked at him questioningly, he turned his hooded head towards Clawface’s remains. “I… I got a little angry there.”

“Oh,” I exclaimed, realizing what he meant. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I don’t mind, he got what he deserved,” I told him, flicking my hoof dismissively. Offering the stranger a little smile, I added, “In fact, I would have probably done worse to him if I had been able to.”

A soft chuckle escaped the Hooded Figure, probably thinking that it was a joke, or rather, a wistful thinking on my part. “Sorry for not giving you the opportunity, then. I-”

“Are you a hellhound?” I asked, cutting him off. It was rude to interrupt somebody, but I was too curious to wait.

The Hooded Figure jerked a little, a motion I interpreted as betraying his surprise (as analyzing his motions was about the only way for me to gage his emotion). “Um…” he stammered as after a moment, clearly hesitant. “W-well… “ Then, as if finally coming to a decision, he lunged himself into the air, raising on his hind legs and standing almost erect. One of his forelegs reached to his head, and as it grabbed the edge of his hood, I noticed finally a paw ended with big, sharp claws. “Yeah.”

With those words, he took off his hood. Now standing even taller, I had to crank up my neck a bit to look at his muzzle. I was surprised by what I saw; almost everything I had heard about the hellhounds portrayed them as bloodthirsty monsters out of the worst nightmare. Yet, the canine face that looked down at me, with a mixture of uncertainty and awkwardness, wasn’t… that. Instead, I beheld a visage that I was sure most ponies would call as “cute”. The Hooded Figure’s muzzle was white, except for the cream-colored spot over his left eye, left half of the frontal bone, left part of sphenoid bone, partially left temporal and left parietal bones, and his left ear. To add to this, both of his ears curled up downwards, giving him almost the look of an adorable puppy.

However, his exact features weren’t exactly what I was interested in; it was gaining the confirmation to my guess. And even though I had suspected this, upon receiving it I gasped excitedly. “That’s amazing! I hadn’t expected to be able to see a hellhound anytime soon, let alone talk with one!” I confessed, raising from the sitting position and intending to trot over to him happily (although probably it would be closer to truth to say ‘prance over to him’), but the moment I stretched my body a jab of pain remained me of the beating I took.

As I uttered as short gasp, the Hooded Figure appeared as if about he was going to lunge towards me, most likely to help, but for whatever reason he hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked instead, worried.

“A few bruises, I will deal with those later,” I quickly calmed him, remembering that I still had two healing potions left with Apple Core in the main office building, along with most of our belongings. Shaking my head, I focused on the more important matter. Trotting (carefully) towards the Hooded Figure, I continued, “It’s truly pleasure to meet you, sweetie; I mean, besides how you’ve saved me,” I amended, giggling a little awkwardly.

“Um… thanks?” the Hooded Figure replied, looking at me with confusion. “You know, this isn’t exactly the type of reaction I would expect… you know, about me being a hellhound,” he explained, then as if to emphasize his words he raised his forepaws and brandished his claws at me, while at the same time scowling his muzzle, showing off his fangs. “Especially after that,” he added, pointing at Clawface’s remains.

“Oh please, having we’ve already established that I am immensely grateful for your rescue?” I replied, rolling my eyes while giving the hellhound a gracious smile. “I assume you are referring to the opinion hellhounds have among the Wasteland? Well, as I said, I haven’t met any other hellhound before you, and seeing how you have saved me, I don’t believe that opinion applies to you. Or am I wrong?” I asked, tilting my head as I gazed at him.

The Hooded Figure smiled with embarrassment. “I guess not?”

“Splendid!” I exclaimed happily. “Though I am curious as to how exactly did you came to my rescue-”

This time it was him who cut me off. “I came by their camp you see,” he answered quickly; I wondered if he had thought that I was going to accuse him of something nefarious. “There were only two of them there, so after killing them I wondered where all the others might have gone too. Shouldn’t there be more of them?” the Hooded Figure asked, looking around.

“That’s right, but I’ve looked them up in the empty Stable under the building,” I told him, causing the hellhound to turn to me, bewildered. “Do you often break into raider camps or chase after them?” I asked, genuinely curious.

At first, the Hooded Figure didn’t react to my question, still staring at me as he did after I’ve mentioned what I had done to the other raiders. Finally, he shook his head. “No, not really. I kill raiders from time to time, sure, if I come across some as I wander around. I checked their camp because there were only so few of them there, and tracked the others because I was worried they might be attacking some settlement. I hadn’t expect for them to be hunting for a very resourceful and kind pony,” he added, offering me an embarrassed smile.

I smiled hearing his compliments. “Oh, where are my manners,” I exclaimed, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t even introduced myself. Taking a step forward, I extended my right forehoof to him. “I’m Doctor Angel.”

The Hooded Figure’s embarrassment fade from his smile. He leaned down, his right forepaw reaching for my hoof. “Rexio. Nice to-”

BAW!

My eyes widened in shock at the sound and the brief flash of green energy around Rexio, then barely I managed to jump out of his way as he fell forward, his muzzle twisted in pain. I reached for him, but then, remembering what had happened when after Scope shot Jack I first began to tend to the wounded, I looked around, searching for whoever attacked us. Nothing showed up on my E.F.S., almost causing me to swear out of fear and frustration.

Where did that shot came from?! I thought, risking a glance at Rexio. My eyes widened as I saw a giant hole in his robe; the blast had burned through it. However, underneath it I noticed some type of armor that seemed undamaged. Relaxing a little, I took note of the exact spot where he was shot and recalled how he stood. The shot should have come from over there… but there’s nopony there! I remarked in frustration as I look over in that direction.

However, the very next second I did see somepony. Except that wasn’t the attacked; it was Pinkie Pie. I jerked my head in surprise as the pink apparition appeared before me so suddenly, but I didn’t have the time to express my surprise. Before the next beat my heart, she was already gone. In the brief moment I could see her, though, she had pointed with her hoof while looking at me imploringly. After she disappeared, I followed with my gaze in the direction where she had pointed: up.

I looked up in time to get a glimpse of four dark figures, right below the cloud barrier, as they flew out of my field of vision, and one that followed a little further behind. My eyes widened as I realized they were pegasi, and the one in the back waved at me.

“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR!?” I shouted at the pegasus at the back in exasperation, realizing that this was most likely the one who shot Rexio.

Having found the shooter and assessing that they were no longer a threat, I turned my attention back to the hellhound. I jumped to his side and began to examine him. Despite the armor underneath his robe having apparently absorbed the shot, he had remained lying as he fell, even though it has already been a few seconds. He was alive; my E.F.S. still marked him, and I could see that he was breathing, but something was wrong.

It didn’t take me too long to spot what it was; as he fell, Rexio had really misfortunately smashed the side of his head against a watermelon-sized rock.

Wha- seriously?! I thought, briefly stunned. Of all the places he had to fall on… I shook my head, ending that train of thought. Complaining about this bad stroke of luck wouldn’t help Rexio. Considering the size of his body, his skull should be sturdy enough to not suffer any fractures at the impact, I noted, mentally wincing at the fact that I knew next to nothing about his species’ anatomy. However, he must have at least suffered a concussion… I need to turn him on his back, I decided, trotting around and trying to lift his foreleg and turn his body around.

It was easier said than done. This wasn’t a pony but a hellhound, a much bigger creature. With my weak body, the best I could was to lift him a little by his foreleg. With frustration, I realized that even if I somehow managed to muster enough strength to turn Rexio on his back, I wouldn’t be able to stabilize his head at the same time in order, and without that I could ended up causing it even more harm.

I bit my lip and looked around, trying to think of what I could do. While doing that, my gaze briefly crossed the sky. To my surprise, the pegasus that waved was still there. I turned to look at him and saw him staring at me; from this distance it was hard to tell, but it appeared as if he was staring at me with his head tilted a little, as if confused.

Realizing that this was about the only chance to help Rexio (and still angry at the pegasus for firing at him) I again shouted at him, “WHY ARE YOU HOVERING THERE?! GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME!”

I turned my gaze away from him, focusing on Rexio. I abandoned trying to turn him on his back by myself and instead tried to gently move his head a little. Placing my forehooves under his chin, I lifted it away from the rock. With distress I realized that there was blood splattered on the rock, but there wasn’t much of it, and as I took a closer look at the size of his head, I realized that the blood came only from the cuts on his skin. Pressing my hoof against it gently I examined his skull; as far as I could tell, the bones weren’t fractured.

I would feel more confident if I could use magic to check it, though, I noted, really unhappy about how all of this had to happen while I was unable to use magic. I would probably start berating myself for my lack of foresight, but at that moment something happened that caused my attention to shift; a green bar appeared on my E.F.S. Ask and you shall receive, I thought, glancing up.

Truth be told, I wasn’t certain if the pegasus would fly down; the opinion I held for them them in light of how they closed the skies and abandoned their earthbound brothers and sisters after the Last Day would point out that they wouldn’t care. That, and I realized that I could have asked a bit nicer for help. However, I suspected that the pegasus had appeared to stay only because of his confusion, and probably now only flew down because of curiosity rather than good heart. So as he landed not far from me, my anger at how he fired at Rexio didn’t abate.

I took in the pegasus stallion’s look as he neared; he was clad in black armor that covered him from head to hooves. Only his golden colored underside of his wings was visible, I recognized him as a stallion solely on the size and proportions of his body. Even his tail was covered, ending with a sharp-looking blade. The blade, coupled with the big, orange, oval eyes on the helmet and the respiratory mask covering his muzzle caused me to compare the pegasus look in this armor to an insect. I also took note of the twin magical energy rifles at his sides; based on their capacitors and barrels, I recognized them to be magic plasma weapons.

That explains that green flash, I thought, turning my gaze from the weapons and turning to the pegasus and frowning.

“Well? Don’t just stand there, help me turn him on his back,” I told him, nodding with my head at Rexio’s side.

“Wait, now ‘old on there, Sugarhorn,” the pegasus spoke up, lifting an armor hoof. “Why exactly are ya helpin’ that thing?”

I turned my head to him sharply.

“Shouldn’t ya be happy Ah’ve shot its keister off ‘fore he nixed ya like it did yar friends?” he continued, oblivious to my reaction to his words, as he pointed with his tail at the bodies of raiders.

I stared at him a second longer in silence, during which my eyelid might have twitched. “Sweetie, there are so many things wrong with what you’ve just said,” I finally told him, narrowing my eyes, “and I will quite happily point them all out of for you, but right now I need you to turn him around, carefully, while I hold his head.”

My answer had seemed to confuse the pegasus further, given by he moved his head (Seriously, what’s with today and me talking to people who hide their faces?!). “But Ah-” he began, only to stop as my gaze grew even colder.

Gently, I placed Rexio’s head on the ground and trotted over to the armored pony in silence, my eyes never leaving his behind this orange visor. I stopped when I stood right before him and said. “Help. Me. Turn him over. Or I swear to the Goddesses,” I hissed, my voice dropping; I couldn’t remember myself being this angry at somepony in a long time, “I will stitch those wings of yours to your body.”

Despite the fact that he was armored to the literal teeth and I was not, that he was bigger than me (I had too crank my neck up slightly when I stood before him to look him in the eyes) and definitely more dangerous from the two us, he squirmed under my gaze and words.

“Y-yes ma’am!” he quickly stammered, backing away a little, before running past me towards the hellhound.

Nodding with satisfaction, I trotted after him and took my position beside Rexio’s head. “Remember, do it carefully and slowly,” I instructed the pegasus as I took the hellhound’s head into my forehooves. “He had suffered a concussion after being shot. A healing potion should help, but I can’t administer it with him lying in this position. On three?” I asked, and the pegasus nodded, grabbing the foreleg and lifting himself up into the air. “One, two, three!” I exclaimed and the pegasus pulled, moving Rexio around while I assured that his head would stay relatively in the same position.

Something moved under his robe as we turned him, but I quickly relaxed as the magical energy rifle he had shot the raiders with fell out to the ground. Ignoring it, I focused on keeping Rexio’s head stabilized. Soon, we had the hellhound lying on his back. I opened his mouth my hooves and gently moved it to the side so that his tongue would not block his airway. When it hung out of from between his teeth (which were rather impressive to look upon so up-close, but with some effort of my will I managed to push out thoughts of physical examinations for later), I moved his head upwards again, then sat down and laid it back against my lap to offer my unconcious saviour some comfort.

As I did it, I noticed four more green bars appearing on my E.F.S., but I had ignored them, too occupied with what I was doing. My reluctant assistant had not, thought, as upon noticing the newcomers he muttered, “Oh boy…”

I did glance in their direction as i heard four other armored pegasi land nearby. Aside from the colors of their feathers that were visible on the underside of their wings, they all looked almost identical. “Quick Strike,” the pegasus standing in the front spoke, her voice feminine and annoyed, “could you kindly explain what the hell you are doing?”

The pegasus - Quick Strike, apparently - glanced at me, then at the unconscious hellhound before turning back to her. “Um… Ah’m not exactly sure, Cap’n?”

The other three pegasi snorted with amusement, but their captain didn’t find the situation to be funny. “Start with explaining why you discharged your weapon without permission,” his captain told him, her voice cold.

“Oh, for- that was just one shot, Ma’am! Ah was bored outta mah gourd on this partol, Ah thought Ah would just have some fun target practice and-”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted him, my voice dropping as cold as his captain’s as I turned to him. “Did you just say that you shot him out of boredom?”

“Um…” Quick Strike mumbled, taking a step back from me. “W-well, Ah was also savin’ a cutie while I was at it?”

His amendment did nothing to disperse my growing contempt, quite the opposite.

“Stay out of this, Muck Dweller,” I heard the pegasus captain say, but I ignored her.

Carefully, I lifted Rexio’s head from my lap as I rose, then laid it gently on the ground before turning back to Quick Strike. “Remember how I said that there were many things wrong with what you said?” I asked him, trotting closer to him again, my eyes narrowing. “First, he wasn’t about to kill me, he had just finished saving me from being raped and tortured by those ponies,” I told him, pointing at the dead raiders. Quick Strike glanced at them, then back at Rexio, apparently putting it together what exactly he had done. “Second, do I look like I would be friends with those savages?” I asked, having taken personal offense to that allegation, as I pointed at myself. “And third, he is not a thing!” I added, my voice raising only slightly above the normal volume and yet managing to make the pegasus cringe. “He is by far the kindest creature I had met in person this day, present company included. Now,” said, leaning forward so that my face was inches apart from his helmet-covered muzzle, “start making your amendments to him by bringing me a healing potion from inside of this building. There are two under the desk right after the door,” I told him beginning to turn around.

“W-wait,” Quick Strike began, stammering a little as if finding it difficult to use his voice, “hold on there Sugarhorn, what makes ya think Ah-”

I turned back to him sharply, fed up. “Bring me that healing potion, or I swear, I will rip those guns from your armor and shove them so far up your rectum that no proctologist will ever be able to remove them!” I shouted while advancing upon him, the pegasus backpedaling to avoid me.

I breathed heavily, staring at him as he quaked. After a heartbeat, I blinked, the haze of anger lifting enough to make me realize just what I had said and in what manner. Not to mention how anatomically impossible it was. “Oh,” I exclaimed, my eyes growing wide. “Oh my… Please forgive me, sweetie, everypony,” I added, glancing back at the other pegasi, who were all looking at me from where they stood, “I am usually far more composed than that. It’s just… it’s been long twenty four hours for me,” I confessed, sighing, “and between seeing two of my friends die right in front of me, another being shot in the head and other losing her leg, then being surrounded by over twenty savages who wanted to rape, torture and probably eventually eat me, leading to three of them coming seconds from forcing themselves upon me only to be rescued and then have my rescuer be shot right before me and suffer a concussion… why, I think that all of those experiences had - for the first time in my life - made me absolutely livid,” I finished, turning my head again back to Quick Strike, my gaze hardening and causing the pegasus to cringe again. I held him under my gaze a second longer before closing my eyes and smiling sweetly. “Now, sweetie, why don’t you be a dear and bring me that healing potion?”

“Um…” Quick Strike mumbled, then as I opened my eyes I saw him glance at the other pegasi. “Cap’n?”

“You shoot without thinking, you’ve got to pay for it,” his captain replied, apparently taking my side to my surprise. “Honestly,” she added, snorting, her voice dripping with dismay, “you’re just as bad as my ex at times.”

“Wha- Hey!” Quick Strike exclaimed, walking around me towards the pegasus mare. “Don’tchya compare me t’ that stinkin’ traitor!” he said, his wings spreading and blade-ended tail slashing the air.

The captain didn’t reply, merely glared at him; I got the impression that it was a very cold glare behind those orange lenses.

Quick Strike must have also interpreted it as such, as he had immediately back cowering, his tail tucked between his legs. “A-ah mean, respectfully, Ma’am,” he amended, cringing.

His captain held him under her gaze a moment longer before speaking, “Go bring her that healing potion before she verbally emasculates you even more.”

“Yes Cap’n!” Quick Strike quickly replied, saluting before jumping into the air and flying around the building.

I nodded with satisfaction and turned to the captain briefly. “Thank you, sweetie,” I told her, then returned my attention to Rexio.

In the corner of my eye I noticed the pegasus captain trot over towards me as I again laid Rexio’s head on my lap, leaving her other subordinates to share some laughs and jokes about Quick Strike. “So,” she began, “what exactly-” She cut off as a loud yelp followed by a curse came from the direction of the building’s entrance. “What was that?” the captain asked instead.

“Oh, right, I forgot about the bear trap,” I realized, a little concerned. “I don’t think it should have harmed him through this armor of yours, though… especially since we’re not hearing any follow-up curses or pleads for help,” I added, shrugging.

After a few seconds, during which Quick Strike had indeed remained mostly quiet, the armor clad pegasus turned to me again. “So anyway, what exactly is this… creature?”

I glanced at her. She was observing the unconscious form of Rexio cautiously but thoroughly; even though I couldn’t see her eyes through her visor, I could easily imagine them scanning the hellhound from his jaw to his claws.

Before answering her, I pondered shortly whether I should or not. My initial dislike of the pegasi that lived above the clouds aside, I couldn’t really say that what initialled this encounter warmed me up to them. Still, though, she had ordered her subordinate to do as I asked, and she hadn’t had to do so.

“He’s a member of a species called ‘hellhounds’,” I finally told her.

“So there are more of them?” the captain asked, tilting her head.

“I’ve been told so, yes, although he’s the first hellhound I had met,” I replied, wondering if I should add that, considering what I’ve heard about them, it would be probably better if he was the only one I would meet.

At least, I am fairly certain every other Wastelander would have said.

The pegasi captain’s attention had shifted from me and Rexio to his magical energy rifle that laid on the ground where it fell. “And this is his, Muck Dweller?”

A little surprised, I took the opportunity to check on Rexio’s breathing and pulse again. After a moment, though, I was interrupted by a bit rough nunge on the shoulder. Confused, I turned to the pegasus questioningly.

“I asked you a question,” she said, sounding impatient.

“You did?” I blinked, still confused.. and then I understood. I frowned, my annoyance returning, and replied, “Ah, I see; forgive me, I assumed one of your subordinates was named ‘Muck Dweller’.”

A short snort of laughter escaped one of the other pegasi, but it quickly was muffled as their captain glanced his way. She turned back to me, but before she could say anything the fluttering of wings announced the return of Quick Strike… which in turn prompted more laughing from his teammates as everypony saw the bear trap clinging tightly to his leg.

“How the heck do you step into something like this?” one of them, a mare, asked.

“Oh shut it,” Quick Strike replied, clearly annoyed, as he stopped mid-air next to me. Despite the trap shut around his leg, he managed to hold the healing potion in between his forelegs as he flew. “Here ya are, Sugarhorn.”

I leaned towards it and grabbed it with my mouth. As I prepared to administer the potion - raising his head a little while keeping his muzzle open wide enough for me to maneuver in the potion with just my forehooves and mouth - the pegasus captain commented on her subordinate’s state. “You are just determined to make the report I’ll have to write longer, aren’t you?” she asked, sounding both annoyed and exasperated.

For whatever reason, her question seemed to alarm Quick Strike. “Oh, um, ya’re gonna write ‘bout this in the report Cap’n?”

“I’m not going to cover your ass for being an idiot, Quick Strike,” she told him; I could almost hear her brow furrowing. “But don’t worry,” she added, her voice relaxing a little, “I doubt you’ll receive any serious punishment…”

A little intrigued by their conversation, I glanced at her as she trailed off. To my surprise I saw her looking at Rexio again, but after a second I realized that she was probably observing him in case drinking the healing potion would have caused him to awaken.

She soon turned away from him, back to Quick Strike, who by then had managed to get the bear trap off his leg. “You’re not wounded? Good,” she said when he nodded, then turned to address all of her subordinates. “I think we’ve spent enough time down here already, let's go finish our patrol.”

“Now, wait a moment,” I spoke up before they could as much as spread their wings. Having finished administering the healing potion, I laid the empty bottle away and laid Rexio’s head back as I continued, “I’m afraid I’m going to insist that Quick Strike shall stay here to apologize to Rexio when he wakes up.”

All five pegasi stared at me for several seconds, then they exchanged glances briefly, as if I asked for something ludicrous. “Are you serious?” their captain asked finally.

I frowned. “I was under the impression that you are civilized ponies.” It took some effort to not say ‘somewhat civilized’ - Quick Strike saying he shot Rexio because he was bored put real doubt on how civilized they could be - suspecting that it wouldn’t be well received. “Your subordinate had shot him under false suspicion; I believe an apology is the least a civilized pony should do in such instance.”

My remark clearly didn’t hold much appeal to the pegasus captain. “The Grand Pegasus Enclave doesn’t consort with ponies - or other creatures - that live below the clouds,” she told me. “You should be thankful I humored you and allowed you to order my subordinate around.”

Lying Rexio’s head on the ground again, I rose so that I could stand before her as I replied. Standing straight and looking her right in the eyes, I spoke, “I don’t care what this ‘Enclave’ of yours’ stance on ponies and other creatures is, I am asking him to apologize for what he has done, not this ‘Enclave’.”

The dismissive tone with which I had said ‘Enclave’ must have upset the captain, as she took a few steps towards me. “You should speak with greater respect of our government, Muck Dweller,” she said, her voice cold. “Especially while talking to an Enclave captain.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, about to reply - my annoyance clearly reducing my ability to think reasonably, considering that what I was going to say would quite probably be considered insulting to the heavily armored and armed pony - but a soft whine caught my attention.

“Are ponies always this noisy up close?” Rexio asked weakly, looking up from where he laid to see me.

My argument with the pegasus immediately forgot, I leaned towards him. “How are you feeling? Got a headache, nausea? Memory loss, troubles concentrating?”

“Definitely the first,” Rexio replied, lifting one forepaw to his head and rubbing against it. “Can you lower your voice a bit?”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, blushing from embarrassment; lowering my voice, I added, “You hit your head when you fell, I believe you suffered a concussion. I already made you drink a healing potion, but I would like to examine you to gauge the extent of damage you had received before giving you another one. But before that…” I trailed off as I looked over to Quick Strike and nodded, glaring when he didn’t move.

Cringing, he looked at his captain. The pegasus mare groaned and facehoofed. “Just do it so she shuts the hell up already.”

Quick Strike didn’t exactly look happy with the command, but he nodded and trotted closer nonetheless. Rexio, in the meantime, had begun to try and change his position from lying to sitting; I would have leaned against him for support, but I was fairly certain given his mass that he would just fell over me if he tried to rely on my strength for help. Fortunately, he managed to raise his torso on his own and half-drag half-crawl closer to the wall of the building.

“Um, hi there, partner,” Quick Strike began as Rexio propped his back against the wall. Turning toward the pegasus - who stood about a yard further than most people would while talking with somebody - he looked at him questioningly. “So, Ah was the one who shot ya. Ah’m mighty sorry ‘bout that. Believe me,” he added, giving both me and his captain a side-glance. “Ah wouldn’t ‘ave donnit if Ah hadn’t honestly thought ya were about t’ eat Sugarhorn over ‘ere-”

“What he means is that he shot you because he’s an idiot,” his captain cut in before I could, already having a comment or two regarding that last part of his apology ready. Turning to me the captain said: “There, he apologized, happy?”

Instead of replying, I looked at Rexio. The hellhound seemed rather confused by what was happening; however, before I could start worrying about his state, he raised his forepaw and waved it dismissively. “Ah, I see. No worries, we’re square,” he said, apparently satisfied.

“You sure?” one of the other pegasi asked, amused. “Maybe we should let him shoot Quick Strike so that they’d be even.”

“Hey!”

“Very funny,” their captain commented, her tone devoid of humor. Almost at once the brewing argument between Quick Strike and the others had ended even before it began, the sound of her voice enough to calm them. “Since this ridiculous business is over, we-”

“Captain?” another pegasus, the mare from earlier, spoke up.

“What is it Nova?” the captain all but snapped, apparently nearing the end of her patience.

“Sky wagon at ten o’clock, inbound.”

Her replied confused me, but the pegasi in contrast immediately snapped to attention. As they all turned in one direction, I followed their gaze, and saw a flying shape in the distance; my heart skipped a beat as I realized that it was Ditzy with her wagon, flying to pick us up.

She really came for us, I thought, happy despite having been assured by Jack earlier that she would and myself having come to this conclusion. It was one thing to be told or suspect so, but for it to actually happen…

The Enclave captain’s next words made that happiness evaporate.

“Weapons at the ready,” she said, activating her own battle saddle.

“Yee-HAW!” Quick Strike exclaimed before I processed what was happening, mimicking her. “Finally some hassle!”

“Wha- no!” I snapped, jumping in front of her. “That’s my friend, she came to pick us up from here!”

The captain looked as if she was about to point her twin guns at me, but she hesitated. “‘She’?” she repeated. I nodded, a little confused. “So it’s not… she’s from the down here then? Born on the ground?”

I wasn’t exactly sure where it was going, but at the least she and the others lowered their weapons a little. “Well, I hadn’t asked for her place of birth, but she had been living down here for the past two centuries, so-”

“Past two cent- oh!” the captain interrupted me, only to exclaim. “She’s one of those ghoul things you have down here?”

My eyes widened at the disgust in her tone, but before I could rebuke her Quick Strike spoke up, “Um, what’s a ghoul?”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, do you ever read the mission briefings?” the captain turned on him, lashing her tail in annoyance.

As she began to hastily tell him what a ghoul was, I - having stopped myself from explaining Ditzy’s condition in greater detail - glanced at Rexio. The hellhound was still sitting with his back propped against the wall. He seemed to be glad that the pegasi attention was no longer on him. However, as our eyes locked, he winked at me, then raised his forepaws a little; he held his magical energy weapon in them. Shrugging, he then nodded with his muzzle at the pegasus captain, as if trying to say “We’ll see how this goes.”

Relaxing a little that at least I wasn’t completely at the pegasi’s mercy, I turned my attention back to the approaching wagon. By then Ditzy had crossed enough distance for me to easily make out her body; the ghoul pony flew gracefully through the air while dragging a wagon large enough to easily contains several ponies, probably while still transporting goods and deliveries at the same time.

I smiled and waved to her, ignoring the armor clad pegasi and their remarks regarding her. After all that had happened it was good to see her friendly face. My smile faltered, though, when I noticed that one spot on her wagon was occupied by a griffin. Even if I more or less had expected Jack to not listen to me and come along with Ditzy instead of going to see Candi, I still found myself annoyed at the balant display of ignoring his doctor’s orders.

We’re going to have some words, I decided.

As Ditzy began to descend as she grew near, preparing for a landing, the pegasi had come to a decision of what to do. “Alright, since this crazy unicorn is friends with her you can lower your weapons,” their captain told them; I frowned at her, which she completely ignored. “Be on an alert if she starts to move oddly.”

“She’s not a feral ghoul if that’s what you’re implying,” I told her.

“I could hold her at gunpoint throughout this,” she countered.

“Forgive me, sweetie, but weren’t you leaving?” I asked instead, about fed up with her.

“The Enclave doesn’t look kindly at non-registered sky vehicles of any kind,” she explained, shrugging. “Since we’re already here we have to make sure she understands that above the cloud barrier is off-limits to her. And that she’s not a Dashite, but since you’ve said she’s from before the war…” she trailed off, shrugging again.

That didn’t actually sound bad… at least, not entirely. “And what exactly do you mean by ‘make sure she understands’?”

She turned to look at me. “Look, I’m going to do this civilly, okay? Now lay off,” she said, looking back at the approaching wagon.

I suppose that’s the best I’ll get from her, I thought, not entirely satisfied.

Forcing myself to not think about her and the other four pegasi, I watched as Ditzy landed her wagon nearby, where there was wide enough space between all the ruined barracks. Swiftly, she unstrapped herself from her harness and flew towards me. Smiling, I trotted over to meet her. Soon her squishy forelegs wrapped themselves around me, causing me to utter a yelp from the unexpected pain.

“Oh, right,” I remarked as she pulled away, wincing in pain. “I suppose with all this tension-induced adrenaline I’ve forgotten how beaten up I was.” I pressed my forehoof against my chest and stomach delicately, while with the other I examined my muzzle. “Swollen… do I have a black eye?” I asked Ditzy as my hoof brushed against the upper part of my cheek. The ghoul pony grimaced and nodded, causing me to frown. “Huh, guess there’s a first time for everything… oh, but nevermind that. I’m so happy you came for me, darling,” I exclaimed, pulling her back into a hug, but this time a gentler one.

“Is she seriously hugging it?” I heard one of the pegasi behind me ask, but I ignored them.

Ditzy leaned back and gave them a brief glance, then Rexio, then the dead raiders before finally looking at me questioningly.

“That’s a long story,” I sighed.

“Can’t leave you alone for five minutes.”

I ears twitched and I turned toward the source of the voice, frowning as I looked at Jack who was leaning from Ditzy’s wagon and giving me a deadpan. “First of all, sweetie, you’ve been gone for hours, not ‘five minutes’.” I released Ditzy from my hug and trotted over to the griffin. “And second of all, I believe that’s my line; you were supposed to stay in New Appleloosa in Candi’s clinic,” I told him as I stopped in front of him, “not come with Ditzy here to-”

Talons grabbed my muzzle, forcing me to remain quiet.

“So what is the Enclave doing here?” Jack asked the armored pegasi, utterly ignoring me. “Don’t tell me your propaganda office decided to branch out below and you’re here with the pamphlets about how you’ll one day come down and save everypony? Or are you copying Thunderhead now?”

I was taken aback by Jack’s demeanor; he sounded almost antagonistic towards those pegasi. Whatever the latter he had said meant the pegasi must have taken it as an insult, considering the way their tail swished and how two of them, Quick Strike among them, lined their weapons at him. I didn’t take Jack for one who would insult others for no reason… especially when said others had the number advantage, and were better armored and armed as well.

“How about ya mind yar own business, Kitty?” Quick Strike asked.

In reply, Jack almost casually lifted his other forepaw, which he had held hidden from their view inside the wagon, “And how about I drop this shock grenade between you?” he asked, waving an explosive similar to the one I had used to destroy Stable Eleven’s door control mechanism, except this one had a blue band, one of his talons already hooked into the pin and ready to pull it out.

For whatever reason, the pegasi all cringed uncomfortably. “Oh for the love of…” their captain exclaimed, shaking her head. “We’re not here to fight, griffin, put that thing away. And you two, lower your weapons!” she barked, looking at her subordinates.

This appeared to satisfy Jack, who dropped the paw down. “Disrupts a power armor’s magical matrix,” he explained to me as he released my muzzle finally and jumped out of the wagon, “with it offline they can’t move. One of the rules of being able to fly in Equestrian Wasteland, always have one on you, you never know if they decide to bug you about something.”

I nodded in understanding as I massaged my muzzle, making a mental note of the information.

“So why are you here, exactly?” Jack asked as he walked over to the Enclave ponies, with me quickly following him.

“Because one of my subordinates is an idiot,” the pegasus captain replied, causing Quick Strike to mumble something under his breath, “and this friend of yours is stubborn.”

I cast her an annoyed look, which I quickly had to switch to Jack when he sighed and said: “Yeah, she’s more of an acquaintance, actually. So did you kill those three raiders?”

“No, Rexio did,” I told him before any of the pegasi could reply, pointing at the hellhound in question. As Jack looked at him, Rexio waved his forepaw, a bit shyly. “Then one of the pegasi shot him while they were flying over-”

“Ah already apologized fore that!”

“- causing Rexio to fall and bash his head against a rock, causing him to lose consciousness,” I continued, ignoring Quick Strike. “I couldn’t roll him over on his back on my own so I called him to fly down and help me, then the rest of his squad came down and I demanded that they stay until Rexio regains consciousness so that Quick Strike would apologize to him.”

Jack’s gaze turned from Rexio back to me, then to the pegasus captain. “And you stayed because…” he began and trailed off, motioning with his paw for her to continue.

“Because life hates me, apparently,” the captain replied, moving her head in circular motion a little; I was certain she had just rolled her eyes behind her visor. “But now we’re still here to inform this… pegasus, that according to the Enclave regulations any unregistered sky vehicle, even if it’s just a sky wagon, cannot pass above the cloud barrier without a proper clearance. And since to get the clearance you need to be a citizen,” she added, turning to Ditzy properly, “and since with you being a ghoul there is basically no chance for you to become a citizen, this basically means that you cannot fly it up above the cloud barrier. It would also be advised if you yourself would also not fly above the cloud barrier. You got that?”

Ditzy nodded, rolling her eyes, even her odd one.

“Good. See?” the captain asked me. “Civilly.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say the way you’ve said ‘pegasus’ was civil,” I told her, frowning.

“Yeah, don’t care,” she replied, then turned back to her team. “Alright, enough of this bullshit, let’s get back into the air.”

“Yes Ma’am!” the four of them replied as they spread their wings.

Within less than a second the five of them were already flying away, putting distance between us quickly. Quick Strike rolled in the air and waved back, but other than that they left without any other goodbye.

“Assholes,” Jack commented, shaking his head as he looked at them as they left, then turned back to Rexio. “So, you saved this annoying Doctor? That’s interesting, considering that most hellhounds would have probably tried to eat her.”

“Sweetie, that’s rather rude thing to say,” I told Jack, frowning at him.

“No, he has a point about the other hellhounds,” Rexio spoke up, wincing a little. “Not all of them, mind you, but yeah, most would have killed you.”

“And others would have left you to be killed by the raiders,” Jack added, to which Rexio nodded.

“Oh, I see…” I replied, a little unhappy to see that even Rexio seemed to agree with such views regarding hellhounds.

Ditzy in the meantime had trotted over to Rexio, a bit hesitant but closer than Quick Strike had. As we’ve talked, I noticed her flying over to her wagon and picking up her chalkboard then writing something on it, and now she showed it to the hellhound.

“Oh, no problem,” he replied, blushing a little; I guessed she must have thanked him for saving me. “It was my pleasure. I, um, don’t really get thanked that often when ponies see that it was a hellhound who saved them. The hood,” he answered the question before Ditzy or Jack could ask it, pulling his hood over his head and hiding his muzzle in the shadow of it. Ditzy’s eyes widened at the display and she quickly wrote another message on her chalkboard. “Um, yeah, I suppose I am ‘the Hooded Figure’,” Rexio replied as he pulled his hood back, now even more embarrassed.

“So not only you were helped by about the only friendly hellhound in the entire Wasteland,” Jack began, looking at me, “and forced an entire squad of those dirt-fearing douchebags down to the ground, but also solved one of the local myths?”

“Um… yes, it would appear so, sweetie.”

Jack shoot his head. “I swear by the Egg… I'm gonna get your slaver friend from the Stable,” he said instead, turning away and trotting in the direction of the cellar door. “Miss Ditzy, wanna help me carry our-”

“Wait, sweetie,” I interrupted him, “Apple Core and our belongings are inside the building.”

The griffin turned back to me, his brow raised. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said after a moment. “Why?”

“Because I needed the Stable to be empty so that I could trap the gang of raiders inside,” I replied. “I’ve managed to get eighteen, so I wouldn’t open the Stable again for… about a month? Depending on how quickly they resolve to cannibalism I suppose,” I added, shrugging.

Ditzy was staring at me, wide-eyed, while Jack frowned, then turned to Rexio, who shrugged. “Their scents and tracks are here,” the hellhound said. “I don’t get how she did it, but it’s true.”

“Oh, I just overemphasized how amazing of a lover I am and pointed out how much more pleasure I would bring them by engaging in coitus with them willingly - and, of course, pretended that I would actually want to - making them reluctant to rape me. Then I began to manipulate then into killing each other, causing them to chase after me recklessly into the Stable after figuring it out while I hid right beside the entrance and closed the door once they were far away enough,” I recounted, flickering my hoof nonchalantly. “Honestly, aside from three raiders managing to get out before the door closed, the toughest part of this ordeal was having to wake up Apple Core and make her come all the way up here.”

All three stared at me in disbelief. “There’s no way this worked,” Rexio finally spoke, turning to others. “Right?”

“Honestly,” Jack replied, sighing, “between her talking a murderous bastard into not killing her long enough for her to finish healing me while keeping another pony from bleeding out, and apparently having whined Enclave ponies into coming down into the ground and apologizing to you, that seems actually plausible.”

While Rexio glanced at him, I turned my attention to Ditzy. The ghoul pony had recovered from her disbelief like the others had, and was now writing on her chalkboard. A moment later, she turned it to me, looking at me questioningly.

“Overemphasized how amazing of a lover I am”?

A giggle escaped me as I read her question. “Oh, well, I had received nothing but praise for my affections in the past,” I amended. “Comes with deep understanding of anatomy. But of course, I only had two lovers in my life, so I wouldn’t evaluate my carnal skills based on opinion of only two ponies… but of course,” I added, my ears dropping horizontally as I leaned closer to Ditzy, gazing into her widening eyes - with both of them looking in my direction actually - through my half-lidden ones, “say a word, darling, and you’ll get to judge me tonight,” I purred, my nose muzzle inches apart from hers.

Ditzy continued to stare at me, speechless, her mouth opening and closing while her wings slightly unfolded. I smirked, pleased with the effect I had on her, and would have leaned even closer to kiss her, if it weren’t for the others.

“Wow, okay, now I’m not that surprised talking to the raiders worked,” Rexio commented; glancing at him with one eye, I saw him staring at me with an eyebrow raised and an awkward smile. “Not to mention how it makes way more sense why you weren’t phased at all by me being a hellhound.”

“Yeah,” Jack added, looking at me with only faint interest. “Kinda wish she had done that earlier, would be fun to see those pegasi puke into their respirators. Anyway, I’m gonna go get Apple Core and our gear,” he added, turning around. “Miss Ditzy, you wanna help me move stuff or are you going to start making out?”

He began to walk away, not waiting for an answer. Ditzy shot him a half-annoyed, half embarrassed glare, then turned to me, smiling apologetically as she pointed at Jack. Understanding that she wanted to help so that we could get out of here sooner, I nodded, and gave her a peck on her lips. She giggled, embarrassed, and flew after the griffin.

“Sooo,” Rexio began awkwardly as the two of them disappeared behind the corner. “You two are…” the hellhound trailed off, gesticulated oddly with his forepaw.

“‘A couple’?” I suggest. “Hm, I believe we had agreed upon being ‘affectionate friends’; I’m a bit unsure as to how this type of relationship works and what it allows… I suppose I figure it out soon,” I added, giggling as I trotted to him.

Rexio gave out an amused chuckle. “Well, good luck with that, Doctor Angel,” he began, putting his forepaws on the ground and helping himself up.

“Please, darling, just Angel is fine,” I told him sweetly, despite the frown that appeared on my face as he began to raise. “After all, you did save my life… but tell me, why are standing up?”

“So that I can start getting on my way,” Rexio replied, shrugging. “You and your friends will be leaving, so there is no point in me hanging out here.”

“What? No darling, that won’t do,” I told him, surprised that he had thought of that. “You will be coming with us.”

“Come again?” he asked, blinking down at me as he got up to his paws.

“Rexio, darling, you suffered a concussion,” I told him. “You must be under a doctor’s observation for at least couple of days to make sure you don’t develop more serious symptoms and that you recover properly.”

The hellhound tilted his head, staring at in me in disbelief again. “Um… okay, so you’d be taking me were exactly? New Appleloosa, judging by the wagon’s scent?” he asked. I nodded, impressed by his sense of smell. “So you want to bring a hellhound into a town full of ponies?”

“Yes,” I replied, frowning. Rexio lifted an eyebrow at me and stared at me silently, letting me realize on my own why that would be problematic. “Oh… well, shouldn’t it be okay if you’d put your hood on and walk on all fours while on the street, right?”

“I suppose…” Rexio replied, alghouth guessing by his tone and expression he wasn’t convinced. “Do you mind if we run this by your friends first?”

I was a little surprised by his question, but since it would reassure him that it was alright I didn’t mind. “But of course. After all, we do have to ask Ditzy first, since it’s her delivery wagon.”

As if speaking about the ghoul pegasus had summoned her, she appeared back from around the corner, carrying several saddle bags and and other items - such as weapons - my own Stable barding, lab coat and saddle bags, the two statuettes poking out from them.

“Thank you, darling,” I told her as she passed them to me, along with a healing potion she also carried.

Hello? Pinkie apparition appeared before me as I drunk the potion, letting it heal my aching body. Can you hear us now? Testing testing, one two three-

Yes, dear, I can hear and see you now, I told both her and Fluttershy, who appeared on the other side of my muzzle. Forgive me, I hadn’t counted on the distance affecting this connection in such way… how was it from your perspective? I asked, curious.

Oh, we could see and hear you all the time, Pinkie replied, shrugging. Just you couldn’t seem to hear us.

We tried reaching you harder, Fluttershy added. We’re not sure if you’d noticed Pinkie when she tried pointing at those pegasi…

I saw her. Thank you, darling, I told Pinkie, at the same time pondering the nature of whatever magic was at play when it came to the statuettes. One more thing to examine, I suppose…

We’re glad that you were okay without our help, Fluttershy said, smiling at me.

Yeah, you were amazing! Pinkie added, grinning.

Thank you. I hope I won’t have to go through something like that again anytime soon; this day was crazy.

I was pulled out of my musing by Apple Core cursing as she appeared, favoring her leg by leaning against Jack for support. She was mumbling something to herself, but immediately stopped as her gaze fell on Rexio.

“Hi,” he said, smiling awkwardly and waving his forepaw.

Apple Core blinked, then turned to me. “Um, am Ah still drunk or on whatever concoction ya gave me earlier, or is there really a hellhound standing over there?”

“He’s here sweetie,” I told her, finding her reaction a little amusing. “Rexio here just saved me from the raiders.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, not sounding convinced, and looked at Rexio with fear. “W-well, hi,” Apple Core said hesitantly, waving at him with her good forehoof, before blinking at turning back to me. “Wait, did ya say ‘raiders’?”

“Speaking of Rexio,” I spoke, ignoring her question and turning to Ditzy, “Ditzy, darling, would you mind if we would bring him along to New Appleloosa? I’d prefer if he would stay under my observation for a couple of days due to his injury, in case he would need medical attention... “ I trailed off, frowning in confusion. “Why are you all staring at me like that?” I asked, looking from Ditzy to Apple Core and Jack, all three of whom were deadpanning at me, only with Ditzy’s being somewhat amused one.

“Ya just wanna give ‘im that ‘physical examination’ thing for yar ‘research’,” Apple Core accused me with Jack nodding in agreement, causing Rexio to look at me with confusion.

“Wha- no I don’t!” I immediately argued, but then amended, “Alright, yes, I would like to take this occasion to familiarize myself with a hellhound’s anatomy of course, but my main concern is Rexio’s health!”

Neither Apple Core nor Jack looked convinced. And neither were Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, the two apparition smirking as they looked at me, although Fluttershy at least covered her mouth with a hoof so I wouldn’t see it. Stomping the ground in annoyance, I turned to Ditzy, expecting her to support me. Instead, I found her holding up her chalkboard so that Rexio could read it.

Careful, she kisses.

Footnote: Level Up!
New perk: Dark Mare -- +10% damage to the opposite sex and unique dialogue options with certain ponies.

Author's Notes:

Deciding on the chapter title is almost always a pain... anywho, thanks to Zaleros and Sage Probo for editing/proofreading, and to Kkat for creating this wonderful universe of Fallout: Equestria, Somber for creating Project Horizons, Hearthshine for Speak, and all the others wonderful authors of stories set in this universe And to you, my readers, for taking interest in this story