“Well, I’m off,” I told Ditzy as I stopped beside her counter. “Thank you for the delicious breakfast, darling.”

Ditzy gave me a bright smile in reply, then leaned down to write something on her chalkboard. Do you often eat breakfast so late?

Knowing very well that it was already past noon and having expected such mischievous remarks, I had a response ready. I looked at Ditzy with half-lidded eyes and told her: “Only when somepony keeps me up so late at night, darling. And besides,” I added as Ditzy grinned in embarrassment, “I needed a proper rest to recover after my magical burnout. Now, thanks to it and the restorative potion I made yesterday…” I trailed off and instead demonstrated my returned magical abilities by lifting the ghoul pegasus’s chalkboard with my Telekinesis Spell.

I wouldn’t exactly say that you’ve been resting those past two days, Fluttershy’s apparition pointed out, giving me a weird stare. You’ve been checking on Apple Core and Rexio a lot-

- and cuddling with Ditzy, Pinkie put in, giggling. A lot.

Well, a doctor should be checking in on her patients, I replied Fluttershy, ignoring Pinkie’s remark. As I returned Ditzy her chalkboard, I added: The point is, my magic has returned.

Um, Angel? That’s not the only… Fluttershy began, but I wasn’t finished.

And speaking of checking in on my patients, I really should get going.

“Now I can examine Rexio and Apple Core and ascertain their conditions,” I said out loud, resuming my conversation with Ditzy. While doing so, I used my magic to adjust my saddlebags, they itched a bit against my bare coat (as last night I gave in to Ditzy’s continued demands - and continued remindings of how Rexio was shot for no reason and without warning, with no chance to talk his way out of trouble - and agreed to let her modify my Stable barding a bit today; the adorable ghoul had insisted that she can make it more resistant to damage - and, by extension, offer better protection for me - while still leaving it thin enough for me to wear it under my lab coat). “Yes, I know that both myself and Candi had already assessed that all of them are recovering properly,” I added, noticing the stare the ghoul pegasus was giving me, “but I’d like to make completely sure that’s the case. You know, since tomorrow we’ll be leaving.”

A brief frown crossed Ditzy’s face, but she quickly hid it from me by leaning down to write another message: See you later. Try not to bother Rexio too much this time.

Annoyed at her comment, not just because it reminded me of my unsuccessful attempts from the previous day at convincing the hellhound to allow me to conduct a physical examination on him, but also of her remark back at the Rock Farms the day before, I stared at her. When Ditzy smiled at me with amusement, I realized that she was also thinking back to it, and told her “You know, darling, you are really lucky that I find myself unable to be too upset with those I care about; otherwise,” I told her, beginning to walk past the counter in the direction of the shop’s door, “I would have probably made you sleep on the couch for that remark two days ago.”

I glanced back over my shoulder as I heard her scribbling an answer. My house, and I don’t have a couch, the message on the chalkboard, held by smirking pegasus ghoul, said.

“I would make do,” I told her, amused, my annoyance already forgotten. “In any case, I will be back in a few hours or by nightfall, depending on Rexio’s condition…” I trailed off, feeling Ditzy’s gaze on me, then rolled my eyes with a sigh and added “and whether this time I can convince him to agree for a physical examination. And depending on Jack too, of course,” I added, pouting.

Although after we had arrived at New Appleloosa Jack had agreed to let Candi have a look at him - I might be an excellent medical doctor, but I felt that in this case it would be good to have a second opinion - and let me conduct a few test in order to check if his cognitive functions had been affected, he had utterly ignored my recommendation to rest. Instead, while Candi and I were busy putting a cast on Apple Core’s leg, so that she wouldn’t move it too much, he went to the room he, Burst, Blast and Scope had rented. Jack rummaged through the latter’s things, searching for the holotape he had received (as the murderous unicorn didn’t have it with him in Stable Eleven). Unable to find it, he then began to look for the stallion that had delivered it to Scope, only to learn that he had apparently left town with a trading caravan on the same day that we had journeyed to the Stable. I’d been told later that he waited only to ask where that caravan was heading and to pass a short message to me - which had literally just been “I’ll be back” - before he soared into the sky and chased after them, and hadn’t returned since.

Considering the speed a caravan with brahmin can move, and Jack’s flying speed… he definitely should have caught up with them by now. Why isn’t he back yet?

I pushed away dark thoughts about something happening to him; Jack might be eager to find out more about Scope and what he meant by “circumstances” forcing him to kill them instead of finding a less drastic solution (In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have told Jack about that detail from my talk with Scope.), but in the short time I’ve known him he has proven to be exceptionally skilled, and I felt that whatever the Wasteland could throw at him he would be able to deal with it. No, most likely the caravan had taken a different route than he had expected and he couldn’t find them.

What did worry me, though, was when he would get back. He had promised me that he would come to old Appleloosa - and on our flight back, when Apple Core had brought up the subject of our original reason for coming to New Appleloosa and joining them on their job, Jack had reiterated his promise - which was why we were going back there tomorrow. Black Widow had told us to return as soon as we found some mercenaries, but considering what Apple Core and I had been through we agreed that we’d need to rest. We had told Jack when we’d leave, so considering he had said he’d be back, he would be on time. However, there were some matters I wished to discuss with him before we left; especially since he never promised he’d stay in old Appleloosa.

I won’t be able to talk to him privately on the train, and when we arrive Black Widow will want to talk with him immediately, I thought, once again going over the most likely turn of events tomorrow. Unless he accepts the job, which I doubt, he’ll leave… I guess if he isn’t back in New Appleloosa before we’re supposed to leave, I will have to think of something.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard about him returning already?” I asked Ditzy, returning my focus to the present moment. When the pegasus ghoul shook her head, I sighed. “Of course not… oh well, nothing I can do about it… though I might cast an Anesthetic Spell on that griffin when I see him…” I murmured, more to myself, but Ditzy managed to hear that and was now scribbling a reply. “Probably a bad idea?” I read when she showed me her chalkboard. I frowned as I was forced to agree. “Yes, you’re probably right. Well, anyway,” I added, giving myself a little shake, “I have two patients who do listen to their doctor to check on; see you later darling,” I said as I opened the shop’s door, waving at the pegasus ghoul who waved back.

So, Pinkie Pie spoke up as I began to make my way through New Appleloosa, you two have seemed to enjoy your company a lot this past day and a half, huh?

Um, yes? I replied, a little confused; was it a question or a statement?

Any chance you think about becoming more than just ‘affectionate friends? Pinkie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pinkie Pie! Fluttershy exclaimed, looking at the other apparition with reproach. You shouldn’t pry into their relationship.

It’s not about that, Fluttershy, Pinkie replied, raising her forehooves in an effort to calm Fluttershy’s worries. She then frown and asked: Also, they don’t really have any privacy from us anyway, considering we’re always along for the ride with Angel-

Pinkie! Fluttershy began again, her gaze becoming almost stern, but I interjected before this could turn into an argument.

Darlings, please, I told them in a calming tone. Considering this rather peculiar situation, I do not mind a little prying… nor am I really concerned about my privacy, as I have mentioned. The only issue I’d have is the privacy of others, but it’s not like I can warn them about it, I thought, frowning as I tried to imagine how such conversation would go. And to answer your question, Pinkie Pie, whether we’d become more than just affectionate friends is up to Ditzy, though I don’t think she’s looking for a more serious relationship.

Oh, I see, Pinkie Pie replied, then sighed and added, That’s a relief.

I frowned and turned my head to her, ignoring that to other ponies in town such motion would look a little weird. What do you mean by that, darling? I asked, confused.

Well, it’s just… Fluttershy had mentioned to me some of your… past-times, Pinke replied, cringing a little. Fluttershy in turn smiled at me awkwardly as the pink apparition continued, I think Ditzy would be a liiiittle bit uncomfortable with that.

My gaze turned down to the ground as I pondered her words. Ditzy was a very kind mare, surprisingly so considering what her life must have been like. How would she react if she knew I kidnapped ponies and experimented on them, even if they were the ones who didn’t deserve to be considered sapient beings?

It was easy to imagine that bright smile of hers disappear and be replaced by a horrified stare.

You’re right, she wouldn’t, I thought, my ears dropping. And I wouldn’t like to hide that part of me from her…

Emerald eyes flashed before me, full of disappointment.

Well, Fluttershy spoke up, looking at me hopefully, maybe you-

I am not going to stop, sweetie, I interrupted her, already knowing what she’d say. I’ve already told you that. I would rather be alone, single and friendless, if I’d have to.

The two apparitions exchanged a worried glance, clearly upset with my answer. Eager to move on from this subject, I took a deep, calming breath, dispelling my sullen mood, before speaking to them again.

Now, if we could move on from my personal life, I believe you were worried earlier about whether I had rested, darling? I asked Fluttershy.

The pegasus’ apparition looked me with a little pout on her face as I’ve changed the subject, but then decided to give up for now. Yes, I was, she said, sighing. Angel, you might say you’ve rested, and we saw that you did rest physically, but… at the same time you’ve been keeping your thoughts busy.

And trust us, we know, Pinkie Pie put in.

You’ve kept thinking, Fluttershy continued as if Pinkie hadn’t interrupted her, analyzing all that had happened, making more plans… well, I mean, you do that most of the time anyway, but it feels like you’re trying to keep yourself busy. Is something bothering you?

I hesitated before answering her. Was there something bothering me? Oh, without a question, something was always bothering me. But was this time any different? Well, those were rather unusual circumstances I was facing. Was I still unsettled by Burst and Blast’s death? Or…

Well, there might be one or two things that bother me, I confessed. Or three. Well, four, if we count… nevermind, I cut myself off before that train of thought developed too far; it wouldn’t surprise me if by the time I reached Candi’s clinic I’d still not finish counting. The point is, yes, some things might be bothering me.

Would you like to talk about it? Fluttershy asked, looking at me kindly. Or better yet, maybe you could talk about it with Ditzy? I’m sure she’d love to help you by listening to you.

Maybe… but I’m not sure if I want to bother her about my problems.

I closed my eyes, thinking back to how before we had left the Rock Farms - after they’d finally stopped making fun of me for my mishap while conducting a physical examination on Ditzy - we had stood in silence over Burst and Blast’s grave. Rexio had hung back, not wanting to intrude as he hadn’t know them aside from meeting them briefly years ago. Apple Core stood beside us, but she was clearly awkward, as if not used to being in those kind of situations. Jack and myself, who had buried them, had already been through the worst emotions one could feel while standing over a grave and we were just looking down sadly. But Ditzy… Ditzy, who had known them the longest of us (even if she wasn’t as close to them as Jack), who had conducted business with their parents and knew them when they were foals, was gazing at their grave with sadness, her ears dropping down and her head hung low for a good minute. She had eventually given a deep sigh and turned to me, smiling before hugging me, as if wanting to say that she would be fine and that she was glad that I had survived. I hadn’t been sure what to say, so I just hugged her back before releasing her so that we could leave.

Sometime after our return I had finally decided to ask her how was she feeling. The ghoul pegasus had smiled at me sadly before writing a long reply:

I’m sad that they died. I would rather have seen them live for a long time, but it’s part of life, especially in the Wasteland. Rather than be sad, I try to think about how they had played hide-and-seek in my store as foals when their parents and I were trading merchandise. And knocked down more than a few shelves.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile upon reading that last sentence, causing Ditzy to grin happily. She appeared to be dealing with their deaths, so I no longer approached the subject. Ditzy had tried to ask me in turn how I was doing, though, at least I believe so due to the look she had given me afterwards, but as she had leaned down to write another message, a client entered her shop, distracting her. And with myself having more important things to worry about - the conditions of Rexio and Apple Core for one thing, enjoying Ditzy’s company for other - I hadn’t given her an opportunity to ask that question later on.

And perhaps, a part of me didn’t want her to.

Am I embarrassed that she seems to be dealing with their deaths better than I am, despite how short I knew them? I wondered.

Um, Angel? Pinkie Pie spoke up, tilting her head in confusion. You know we can still hear you, right?

I resisted an urge to sigh and roll my eyes; truth be told, I forgot about how I could no longer really “talk” to myself.

It’s okay if their deaths had affected you like that, Fluttershy said before I could reply to Pinkie. I mean, after all, you saw it happen right before you for one thing, and since Ditzy has lived so long she must have already lost a lot of ponies she knew-

They were the eight and ninth pony that I had seen die before me, respectively, I interrupted her, a little hastily.

The latter part of her sentence had upset me.

It should hardly matter whether they died before me or not, I added, doing my best to not think about it.

Fluttershy blinked, surprised by my interruption, but as she opened her mouth to speak Pinkie Pie interrupted her: Um, girls? We stopping here or what? she asked, pointing at the building on my right that I was just about to pass by.

Blinking, I follow her hoof, and realized that it was Candi’s clinic. A little annoyed at myself, I turned to the apparition. Thank you, darling. I took a step towards the door, but then I stopped, hesitating. Can we… can we not talk about all of those things for now? I asked, looking at Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie. I will need to focus on Rexio, and I wouldn’t want to get… distracted.

Of course Angel, Fluttershy replied, smiling at me, a little sadly, before she disappeared.

As Pinkie Pie waved and followed suit, I took a deep, relaxing breath, then walked over to the doors and opened them.

“Hello, sweetie,” I greeted Candi as she came into my view; the earth pony in a nurse’s outfit was coming from behind a curtained-off entrance that led to the room for recovering patients. Which was now occupied by my patient. “Were you checking on Rexio? Has something happened?” I asked, only a little worried; if something had happened, I’m sure she would have sent somepony for me.

“Oh, good afternoon Angel. Nah, Ah’ve just brought him some book t’ read earlier and had a lil’ chat t’ pass the time; got a slow day today,” she explained, giggling.

“Ah, I see. Well, it is a relief to see you getting along with my patient; I wouldn’t have imagine it after witnessing your original reaction to what was under his hood,” I added, my happy smile becoming a little mischievous at the memory from two days ago.

Candi shot me a look that was a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. “Yeah, remember how Ah thought t’would be funny t’ see ya freak out at the sight of a ghoul? Gotta say, Ah hadn’t imagine ya’d throw this back at me with a hellhound.”

“It wasn’t my intention to ‘throw this back at you’, sweetie, as you have phrased it,” I replied, truthfully; it really hadn’t crossed my mind, I had even forgotten about the way she had introduced me to Ditzy. “I wouldn’t have even asked you to let him stay here if the others hadn’t make him reluctant to sleep under the same roof as me,” I added, pouting a little as a memory of the the borderline fear in Rexio’s eyes when Ditzy had told him he could stay at her place.

Candi’s giggle pulled me out of the memory. “Yeah, can’t imagine why. Ya know, it’s really funny t’ think that a big and scary hellhound is scared of ya; even if he ain’t as big or scary-lookin’ as they say hellhounds are,” she added, waving her hoof dismissively. “Yes, Ah know ‘ow Ah reacted when Ah first saw ‘im,” Candi said with a hint of annoyance as I opened my mouth, “but, ya know, when it clicked tha he ain’t gonna eat me, Ah realized he’s more cute than scary. And really sweet t’ talk t’.”

“I’m happy you think so as well,” I replied, smiling. Hopeful, I added, “So do you think it would be possible for him to walk through the town without that hooded robe or…” I trailed off as Candi shook her head even before I could finish my sentence.

“Ah wouldn’t try that; folks ‘round ‘ere might not start shootin’ if we’d ‘splain in time that he’s harmless, but they would still not look kindly at ‘im. Already they’re slightly nervous after seein’ ya brin’ the Hooded Figure into town, we’d better not push our luck and tell ‘em that he’s a hellhound.”

“Oh, I see,” I replied, a little saddened and disappointed. “Are ponies really nervous because of him?” I asked, not having noticed it myself.

“Well, only a lil’. They know both Ditzy and Ah are okay with ‘im, so he can’t be trouble. And they’ve all heard ‘bout how he saved ya from raiders and got hurt ‘cause ‘f that. F’course, a few mothers are makin’ their foals stay at home, but ya know mothers, overprotective and such,” Candi said, rolling her eyes. “The most troublesome were a few curious ponies that tried t’ come in and they a look at ‘im, had t’ shoo them away.”

“Sorry to cause you trouble, sweetie,” I began to apologize, not having realized what effects there could be for bringing Rexio into New Appleloosa, but Candi was already waving off my apologies.

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that; after all, he did save mah fellow medic from raiders, lil’ bother ain’t that big of’a price t’ make sure he ain’t hurt,” she said, winking at me. As I smiled back at her, she continued, changing the subject. “Now, since it’s been such a slow day today, Ah figured Ah’ll go get a lunch and maybe a quick drink or two at the Turnpike Tavern. Since ya’re ‘ere, can ya keep an eye on the clinic while ya’re busy with Rexio doin’ Ah-don’t-wanna-know-what?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “If you want to know, sweetie-”

“Really don’t,” I heard Candi murmur under her breath, but I chose to ignore it.

“- while I will ask him again if I can physically examine him - and now that I am in much better state of mind due to being less worried about his or my other patients’ conditions I feel I stand a better chance at convincing him - my main reason for being here is to check on him. Also, now that my magic has returned, I should be able to heal him from any lingering ailments that fall might have caused.”

“Pfft, cheatin’ unicorn magic,” Candi snorted, though in an good-humored tone. “So, this means he’ll be completely recovered then?”

“Why, yes, of course. I did heal Jack after he was shot through the head and-” I began, but Candi cut me off.

“Yeah, still not sure if Ah believe ‘at one. But that’s great,” she exclaimed, ignoring the annoyed pout on my face, “Ah was reluctant t’ offer Rexio anythin’ good t’ drink because ‘f ‘is brain injury, but since he’s ‘bout t’ get all better… Rexio, what yar drink of choice?” she called out glancing towards the room where the hellhound was; despite that, she raised her voice only a little.

“Um, beer, I guess?” came a reply from behind the curtains. “Maybe vodka?”

“Okay, will bring ya back some,” Candi replied.

“Was he able to hear everything we said?” I asked, glancing in the room’s direction curiously.

“Oh yeah, he’s got great hearin’. Anyway, will be back soon,” Candi said as she began to trot out of her clinic. “Have fun.”

Waving back at her, I trotted towards the room, passing through the curtains. The room, though comfortably spacious enough for a pony, seemed to be a little cramped with a hellhound inside. Rexio was lying comfortably on a mattress, his head propped up on his foreleg and against the wall behind him, while he held a book before him with the clawed paw from the other foreleg. One of his hind paws was hanging out off the mattress on the floor; it, too, had been made with pony sizes in mind.

The hellhound continued to wear his armor, despite the fact that he could enjoy the safety a town like this could provide. Although all things considering, I probably couldn’t blame him for keeping it on himself; it had saved his life from that Enclave pegasus’ shot, after all. He did remove his robe though, and it now hung from a coat hanger next to the room’s entrance, the hole burned by Quick Strike’s magical plasma weapon already repaired by Ditzy.

“Hi,” Rexio greeted me, putting the book away and putting himself up into a sitting position, leaning with his back against the wall. “So, your magic is back?”

“Indeed, it is, darling,” I confirmed what he had apparently overheard, smiling. “I can now make sure your concussion didn’t have any lingering effects and heal your head completely if it has.”

“Great. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Rexio quickly added, a little embarrassed, “it was nice to… you know, be able to talk with ponies and sorta hang out - assuming this can be called ‘hanging out’ - but the fact that as soon as some other ponies see me there will be panic outside is making me kiiiinda nervous,” he confessed. “I would prefer not to stay here too long.”

“I… suppose that would put me on edge, too,” I replied, a little upset that the person who had saved my life had to hide his face from ponies and could not stay in the town. “When will you be leaving?”

“Um… probably at night. I mean, it’s the easiest time to sneak out, and even when I hide under my hood it’s better if fewer ponies see me, can’t really blend in all that well…” he explained, grimacing awkwardly.

“I see,” I replied, nodding thoughtfully. Something he had said had piqued my interest, but I was willing to put my questions on hold for the moment. “Anyway, I would like to first use my magic to examine your current condition-”

Rexio held up his paw, interrupting me. “About that, this whole ‘magic thing’; that’s not gonna hurt, right? Or… feel weird?”

“Oh, darling, of course not!” I exclaimed, both surprised and amused by his question. “Why, one would think you’ve never been examined or healed by a unicorn before.”

Rexio blinked, then deadpanned at me and slowly raised one eyebrow. I tilted my head and blinked in turn, confused by his reaction… and then I realized that considering the opinion hellhounds had in the Wasteland, it was very likely he had never been examined or healed by a unicorn before, or any kind of pony for that matter.

“Oh, right,” I murmured, a little embarrassed.

“And that’s it,” I said about ten minutes later. I rubbed my horn, feeling a little pressure build up in due to using more complex spells so soon after my burnout, but it was nothing alarming. “You are now officially completely recovered, darling.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Rexio replied gratefully as he scratched his head; he had mentioned that he have been still plagued by small headaches, which I had now cured. “Thanks Angel.”

“It was my pleasure, darling. Not to mention my obligation, too, since you got wounded because of me. However,” I added, just as Rexio was opening his muzzle, probably to argue whether it was my fault or not, “if you do feel grateful, I have an idea about how you could repay me, so to speak. I would be very grateful, darling, if you’d reconsider my request for you to allow me to conduct a physical examination on you.”

Rexio’s expression became one of mild annoyance mixtured with worry and embarrassment. “Yeah…” he began, scratching the back of his head, “about that…”

“Let me make something clear to you, darling,” I interrupted him, finding his reluctance annoying; especially since it was caused by all of those jokes he had heard from Ditzy and Apple Core (though on the side note I had to admit it was heartwarming to see them bond a little). “This examination would be completely non-invasive; I would only use my eyes, hooves and magic to learn more about a hellhounds anatomy. Yes,” I added, rolling my eyes, as he opened his mouth, already knowing what he was about to say, “I know that ‘sticking my tongue into someone’s muzzle’, as Ditzy had so romantically put it, is probably considered as ‘invasive’. Let me assure you, darling, that it was an accident. I had been simply lost in thoughts, and the prolonged absence in my life from partaking in such displays of affection had made me forget about personal boundaries. I assure you, this won’t happen again.”

Fluttershy? Pinkie Pie? I called out to the two apparitions while calmly staring into Rexio uncertain eyes. As they appeared I hesitated before starting, a bit uncomfortably. If I were to… get lost in thought again while examining Rexio, you would be able to snap me out of it before I… forget about personal boundaries again?

Oh, um, of course Angel, Fluttershy replied, glancing at Pinkie Pie who was holding her muzzle and giggling.

“Well…” Rexio began; at the same time Pinkie nodded her head, agreeing with Fluttershy, and both of them disappeared again. “I’ve got to admit, it would help if I didn’t have to worry about that…”

“Oh! This reminds me,” I exclaimed before I could stop myself, our conversation triggering a memory of something that I had wondered about recently, “do you mind if I ask you an unrelated to our discussion question?” As Rexio nodded, I asked, “Are you not sexually attracted to me?”

Though I was fairly certain that it was impossible for hellhound’s eye to bulge out of their eye sockets, for a split second I was certain that’s just what I was witnessing, such a stare Rexio had given me. His jaw, which had hung down, began to move after a moment, and after a few seconds its owner found his voice. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked me, sounding bewildered.

“You see,” I began to explain before he could misinterpret my question (Too late for that, Pinkie Pie remarked as she briefly appeared.), “a few days ago I had stumbled upon a pony and a brahmin kissing, and ever since then I’ve been puzzled by interspecies attraction, as well as how is it viewed in Equestrian Wasteland. Your worry about me kissing you during the physical examination could suggest that you’re not attracted to ponies, although it could be caused by many other reasons, of course, like simple discomfort at the breach of personal space.”

Rexio, who was still staring at me with open mouth and who’s face gradually gained a red hue, began to reply. “Um, yeah, um…” he stammered, then coughed into his paw and cleared his throat. “I, um, h-hadn’t really thought about ponies this way. But, yeah, um, I’m mostly concerned about personal space and such. Can we get back to the earlier subject?” he asked, a little hastily.

“Oh, but of course,” I quickly assured him, then look at him apologetically. “Forgive me for making you uncomfortable, it wasn’t my intention. It’s just…” I added and hesitated, as usual, finding it difficult to admit about my own shortcomings. “I’m not exactly good at picking up social norms. I very often find that my personal views diverge from how the rest of the populace looks at various matters. Such was the case even back at my Stable, and out here in the Wasteland the social norms are even more diverse and, more importantly, unknown to me.” I looked Rexio in the eyes and smile sadly. “It’s becoming apparent to me that in order to survive out here, everybody needs a weapon. Some use their magical energy weapons or claws, some swords and firearms. I can use magic to some degree in order to protect myself, but if I were to pick my weapon of choice, it would be ‘words’. However, if I am unfamiliar with the social norms of my conversationalist, I put myself at a huge disadvantage. Also,” I added, my smile brightening up a little, “I am plainly curious about it as well.”

Rexio had calmed down a bit as he listened to me - his blush had almost completely disappeared - and now nodded with understanding. “I guess that makes sense. Sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to help you, understand how, um, interspecies attraction is viewed; I am not exactly a ‘social guy’. I, um… I guess you look pretty to me,” he added, blushing again and turning his eyes away. “I-I mean, I am not ‘repulsed’ by you, or something like that, or by other ponies, just, well, embarrassed and stuff…”

I waited patiently as the hellhound trailed off, expecting him to pick up from where he left off his sentence. When after several seconds it became clear that he didn’t intend to finish that thought, I smiled and nodded. “I understand; thank you for sharing your view with me, especially considering your discomfort. And thank you for calling me pretty,” I added, uttering a short giggle and causing his blush to become even more apparent.

“Y-yeah, um… s-so how about you, exactly?” Rexio quickly asked. “I-I mean, you said that your views are different from others, and I’ve seen you and Ditzy. How do you exactly, um, see those matters?”

Pleased that he asked me this, I chuckled softly. “I’m afraid that I am a rather peculiar case. Things like species, appearance, gender or medical conditions don’t matter to me. What I value in others are their personality and their actions, and more importantly, their… emotions. Whether they truly care for me,” I elaborated, placing a hoof on my chest and smiling. “For example, you, darling; you saved me from being raped and killed. In my eyes, you are nothing but beautiful,” I added, smiling at him and his continued blush, then rolled his eyes and amended, “Or handsome, if you’d prefer, but I like the word ‘beautiful’ more. Now, all that being said,” I began; this time it was my turn to blush and look away, “about me not caring about species and such… I’ll admit that the fact that you are a member of a species I hadn’t had yet the pleasure of meeting and know so little about makes you a bit… exoctic to me. Yes, I think that would be the best word to describe it,” I said, more to myself, as I nodded. I looked back to Rexio and smiled at him with embarrassment as I noted his baffled expression. “Not in the erotic sense, mind you - well, alright, a little too - but mostly in the sense that I’d wish to know your body better.”

Rexio’s bafflement turned into a deadpan, causing me to blink with confusion for a few seconds.

“I meant in the scientific way, not sexual,” I quickly amended as I realized how my previous sentence must have sounded. As Rexio shook his head and in what I assumed was exasperated amusement, I pouted and dropped my ears. “I’m not making myself look any less weird to you, aren’t I?”

“Nope,” Rexio confirmed, chuckling again. “But… well, you seem a good kind of weird. And what you say explains how the heck you can just come up to a hellhound like me without fear. Most ponies… well,” he started again, looking down uncomfortably, “you’ve seen how Ditzy, Apple Core and Candi reacted when they first saw me. Or that pegasus who shot me,” he added, grimacing, probably recalling the pain he felt when he was shot.

“Come now darling, I’m sure I am not that rare of an exception when it comes to ponies and hellhounds interactions,” I said, frowning. “Have you forgotten that Ditzy had repaired your robe, or that Candi is genuinely enjoying your company?”

“Yeah, after they got to know me,” Rexio pointed out. “Both were reluctant to come near me at first, heck, Candi had almost fainted. And your griffin friend, Jack? I don’t know if you had noticed, but back at the Rock Farms he was favoring his right foreleg while standing near me and had his left shoulder raised a little, so that he could swiftly grab his sword if he needed to. But you… you weren’t afraid at all,” he summed up, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s really something unusual.”

I graced him with a smile hearing his compliment, but on the inside I was frowning. I thought back to how Jack had acted around Rexio; had he really been prepared to fight him throughout that time? All I could remember was that the griffin mercenary had been calm around him… but perhaps that was precisely because he had been keeping an eye on him, ready for a fight at any moment?

Pulling my mind out of those not-so-happy musings, I turned to Rexio with a curious look. “As unusual as a hellhound saving a pony, as some would claim.”

“Well… I suppose,” Rexio agreed, somewhat uncomfortably.

“Everypony I’ve talked about hellhounds had claimed your kind to be vicious monsters,” I continued, speaking gently so that he would know that’s not my opinion. With an eye roll, I paused to amend, “Or rather, everybody, considering Jack’s words. I don’t want to pry, but I am curious as to why you saved me, and why you apparently travel through ponies’ settlements - or at least close to them - pretending to be a pony. Although actually,” I added, just as Rexio was about to reply, cutting him off accidentally, “I am even more curious why exactly hellhounds are viewed by ponies as such; you’ve said it yourself that most hellhounds would have indeed not helped me,” I said, omitting that, to be precise, he had said that most of them would have killed me. “But you are clearly a sapient, intelligent being, the other hellhounds must be as well. As such, there must be a reason for their… aggressiveness towards ponies.”

Rexio nodded, giving me a troubled look. “There is. You ponies - or your ancestors, to be precise - um… I’m looking for a polite way to say ‘kicked us out of our home’,” he explained after a brief hesitation, causing my gaze to widen in surprise, “but, well…”

“I’m sorry, did you really just say ‘kicked you out of your home’?” I asked, stunned. “Why would ponies have done that?”

“Because you were at war,” Rexio said, his voice and gaze sad. Nodding at his magical energy rifle, which laid on a floor close to the mattress, he continued. “You needed gemstones for the war effort, and Splendid Valley, where my ancestors lived, was full of them. So they were forced to move as you began to mine the valley. And after ponies were done - when they’d dug every gemstone there was in there - they began using our caverns for storing magical waste from the research facility they built in the Splendid Valley, destroying our home. Still, quite a lot of diamond dogs - hellhounds’ ancestors - had returned there, and the exposure to those magical toxins, coupled with the radiation from the bomb the zebras had dropped there on the Last Day eventually turned us into hellhounds; made us faster, tougher, stronger and bigger. Well, most of us, anyway,” he added oddly, shrugging and looking away.

I listened to his tale, shocked. To think that ponies had done that… I had already seen what became of many ponies in this world the war had created, but to think that ponies from before that could have just chased out an entire species from their home… For a moment, as I contemplated it, I could have sworn that in the corner of my eye I saw both Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie’s apparitions, both looking away from Rexio in shame.

At the same time, though, I realized that I could understand them. The ponies from those times. They were at war, and they needed those gemstones. From what I knew of Equestria’s geography, the Splendid Valley was within our old country’s borders; by ‘right’, it belonged to ponies. And I could understand building a magical research facility at the site; the empty caverns seemed like the best sort of place to store dangerous and hazardous magical waste.

I opened my mouth, about to ask if they had relocated the diamond dogs to a new home, offered them a new one when they’d first removed them from their old one then poisoned it. But I stopped. If the same had been done to Stable Eight, would it matter to me if I had been offered a new home?

“I’m sorry to hear that, darling,” I finally said, not knowing what else to say, and looked down at the floor.

To my surprise, I heard Rexio chuckle. Looking up I saw him smiling, almost amused. “Heh, it’s okay. I mean, it’s been two hundred years; none of us were alive back then, and, well, I can understand why they did it. My old pack wouldn’t have agreed, though,” he added, his smile giving way to a frown as he looked away. “Or most of the others, probably. They’re wrapped up in their hatred… I just… think it’s stupid,” he summed up, shrugging.

“It indeed seems a touch foalish,” I agreed, adding, “but I don’t think I’m in a position to judge. However, I am glad that your views are so different from your pack. Is that why you left it?” I asked, intrigued. “You’ve said ‘old’. Is that why you wander around the Wasteland?”

Rexio tilted his head, thinking for a second before answering. “Sort of. I… well, I never really… fit in well with my pack,” he explained, clearly reluctantly. “And not just because I have ‘different views’. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have those if it wasn’t for…”

“Wasn’t for’ what, darling?” I gently prompted after he trailed off.

The hellhound looked at me, uncertain, then towards the curtain that covered the room’s entrance. “You… you remember what Candi said when you came? About how I’m not as big as they say hellhounds are? Well, that’s because I’m not,” he said, his ears dropping lower. “I was… I was the runt of my litter, smaller and weaker. If you’d ever see another hellhound you’d know what I mean,” he added when he glanced at me and noticed my look of disbelief. Looking away from me once again, he continued. “I only seem strong to you because you compare me to pony’s strength. Compared to hellhound’s, I am… weak,” Rexio admitted, clearly reluctantly. As I very briefly thought back to how he seemingly effortlessly ripped a pony’s chest open, he snarled, angrily, and reached to the piece of his armor that covered his forelegs and began to unstrap it. “I left my pack because I was tired of being bullied all the time, of being the omega hound.”

As I once again found myself transfixed by his tale, now even more moved than before, I watched as he uncovered his foreleg. My eyes widened as they laid on an U-shaped scar that was just below his paw. I looked up at his muzzle, then back at the scar, realizing that it was a hellhound’s bite mark.

“A memento from one of my brothers, back when we were pups,” Rexio explained, his fangs briefly bared as he glanced at his foreleg. “Got a few more scars from others’ claws under the rest of my armor; the only reason why I don’t have any on my face is because I had quickly learned to cover my head... I guess this treatment is the reason why I tend to help ponies from time to time, rescue them from raiders;” he said as he nodded at me. “I just hate seeing the strong being cruel to the weak… So,” he added, putting some levity into his tone, though clearly forcibly, “if you wanted to learn more about hellhounds’ anatomy or whatever with that physical examination, I’m afraid you picked the wrong specimen.”

I looked into his eyes, not amused at the least by his attempt at turning this into a joke. I gazed into the eyes of the one who had experienced hardship for something that had been beyond his control, but at the same time had been positively affected by it.

Whatever he thinks he might be, ‘wrong’ was certainly not the word I would use.

But my increased admiration for the hellhound wasn’t the only reason why I was so moved by his words. As a sad smile spread on my muzzle, I tilted my head quizzically, deciding that since Rexio had shared such a tale about himself with me, it was only fair that I would do the same.

“What words would you use to describe me, darling?” I asked Rexio; though his answer didn’t really matter, I found that a part of me was curious to hear it.

The hellhound, taken aback by my question, blinked in confusion as I balked slightly away so that he could get a good look over me; I sat down on the floor, my tail wrapped around my hooves, and waited patiently. “Um… I dunno, kind, smart, talkative? Kinda scary?... Pretty?” he added after a second, his cheeks coloring slightly.

Heartened, I offered him a brighter smile, before resuming the sad one as I recounted. “Weirdo. Freak. Defective. Wrong. Those are the words ponies from Stable Eight would have used.” Though I suppose since my trial and banishment several more words have become associated with my person… “Everything is perfect in Stable Eight,” I began to tell Rexio, my voice becoming slightly wistful as I recalled my old home. “Everypony is perfect. If something or somepony isn’t perfect, we use magic to fix it'. We have spells for about everything; we even have a saying, that ‘if something seems impossible, it’s because nopony yet had invented a spell to do it. But… there’s no spell to rewrite a pony’s genetic material in every cell of their body,” I said, lifting my hoof to gaze at the white hair of my coat. “Logically, it should be possible to invent a spell like that, but it would take a lot of research and experiments, neither of which anypony wanted to waste on the Stable’s single pony suffering from albinism: me. Not even my parents… though not out of lack care for me, far from it,” I quickly added, giggling fondly. “No, to my parents it didn’t matter that I was an albino; to them, I’ve always been perfect the way I was. They didn’t even want me to use a Dyeing Spell to make myself appear ‘normal’, a fact that bothered many other ponies. The only alteration they’ve allowed for me to undergo were the ocular arcane surgeries; eyesight is a different matter altogether from looks after all, far more important in life… though seemingly not to all,” I amended, sighing and looking down on the floor. “It didn’t matter that it doesn’t harm anypony, or that I don’t even look that different from other ponies; to most ponies from Stable Eight, I was ‘defective’. The only thing that wasn’t perfect in the entire Stable. The reminder that life itself wasn’t perfect, no matter how idyllic we had made our home to be. I was never mistreated, of course; not by grown ups, that is. But they would look at me with disdain, disgust even. They would whisper unpleasant things about me when I or my parents or grandmother were out of earshot. And their foals would pick up on that; they would know that their parents held some animosity towards this weird white freak with red eyes, and figure that this inclined them to do the same. I was constantly getting picked on and bullied. I only had one friend from among the foals my age; he hadn’t been poisoned into despising me like others due to our parents being best friends. It took me years to make another friend… It really left a mark on my psyche,” I confessed, ashamed. “I… used to think that I was ugly. The only pony in the Stable that was ugly. That I am defective, wrong. It took me even longer than finding another friend, to overcome those shackles I’d put on myself that is. And even now I catch myself sometimes sort of shifting back into that mindset,” I added, chuckling. “When Jack had asked me ‘what Is wrong with you?’ I automatically replied ‘You mean, besides albinism?’, without even thinking.” I shook my head, sighing, then looked up again into Rexio’s eyes. “But that’s no longer what I think. I do acknowledge that my albinism is a disorder, but that doesn’t mean that I am wrong. And neither are you, darling,” I added before leaning closer to him, the corners of my lips curling up into a smiled. “It’s all those who harm us because of our disorders that are wrong. They’re the ones who have problems with them, after all,” I explained, a bit of amusement dripping into my voice.

My slightly humorous remark did get a chuckle out of Rexio. “I guess that’s true, isn’t it?” he asked, still amused.

I nodded, pleased that I’d managed to brighten his mood. “I know that I can’t say that what I have been through is the same as what you have been through, but...” I began to explain, but Rexio was already holding his paw up.

“Words and looks others give you can be more hurtful than physical abuse,” he said. “Trust me, I know that. So we’ve been through pretty much the same. Although your fellow Stable ponies sound dumber if you’d ask me,” he added, his brow furrowing slightly in spite of his light tone. “To treat you like that just because you’re an albino, I mean. Considering in how many colors you ponies come, that’s really stupid.”

“To be precise, I lack colors, so to be fair there is a logic to that,” I remarked, earning a half-exasperated stare in return. Giggling, I continued. “But as I have mentioned, it wasn’t as much as my appearance the cause of me being scorned, but rather just the fact that I had this disorder.”

“That’s even dumber,” Rexio commented, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Perhaps,” I agreed, nodding; after all, I had said that they were all wrong. “I eventually made them see past my disorder, though, so maybe they weren’t all that ‘dumb’, as you had put it. My grandmother helped me learn how to speak like I do now, with eloquence, confidence and assertiveness,” I explained when Rexio raised his eyebrow curiously. “Ponies found it harder to look at me with disdain when I commanded their attention. And after puberty came, well… suffice to say that almost all of my peers found out that they were no longer bothered by my looks,” I finished, giggling shortly. “Others too, of course.”

“I… can imagine,” Rexio stammered, a little uncomfortable again.

As he chuckled nervously and coughed into his paw, I spoke up, “I would say that your pack was ‘dumber’ to scorn you for your size and strength; I know you said that I hadn’t seen what other hellhounds are capable of, but you still effortlessly defeated those three raiders,” I pointed out.

“Yes, well…” Rexio began. “I got them by surprise, so it was easy.”

“But also quite heroic, too,” I added.

Rexio’s face was once again adorned with a blush. “Y-yeah, I suppose… so, um, that physical examination thing? You still wanna do it? Even though I am a runt?”

“But of course, darling! I won’t lie, I will probably have to compare the results from your examination with similar research conducted on another hellhound - and that is assuming I would be able to find another hellhound generous enough to allow themselves to be examined - but that doesn’t change the fact that there is a lot I’d be able to learn from you!” I explained, beginning to get excited a little. “Does that mean you’ll agree to undergo it?”

“Well… I guess us physically disordered and scorned should help each other out, right?” Rexio asked, giving me an awkward grin.

I, in turn, gave him a bright, wide smile. “Oh, that’s wonderful, darling! Please take all of your armor and clothes,” I quickly instructed him, reaching with my magic to my saddle bags and pulling out a notepad Ditzy gave me the other day and a pencil; I intended to make a few rough drafts of his limbs and - with the help of magic - of his muscle structure, then scan them with my PipBuck so they would be saved on it.

“Didn’t know it would include nude drawings,” Rexio said jokingly; I noticed a hint of nervousness in his voice. As he began to unstrap the rest of his armor, he added: “Won’t I need something to cover my… um, you know?”

“Your what?” I asked, a bit confused, then as I looked at Rexio’s embarrassed expression, I realized that his joke - which it appeared that he now regretted starting - was relating to his genitals and privacy. “Oh, don’t be silly, darling, I will need to take a look at your genitals as well. Now excuse me for a moment;” I said, turning away from the hellhound and pressing my PipBuck, beginning a recording; “Audio recording of Doctor Angel, number 2.09. I have encountered a-” I stopped, noticing the stare Rexio was giving me. A little exasperated for the interruption he forced me to make, as well as a little worried, I paused the recording and turned to him. “What is it darling?”

“Huh, so that’s how those examination ‘f yars are ‘spossed t’ look like, huh?” Candi, who since her return had occasionally peeked every now and then, commented as a few hours later I packed the sketches and notes I’ve made into my saddlebags and Rexio began to put his armor back on. “Not exactly how Ditzy had described it t’ me,” she added, smirking.

I sighed and turned to her. “As I had stressed to Rexio before we started, there had been several circumstances that had caused me to act the way I did,” I told her, pouting a little. “I don’t just kiss everybody I examine.”

“Really? Ah was beginnin’ t’ think that’s yar Stable’s healthcare marketin’ strategy,” Candi commented, prompting an amused snort from Rexio.

“Sorry,” the hellhound said when I glanced at him with pretense.

Sighing again, I shook my head, returning to the mindset I had before I had been interrupted. “Thank you once again for agreeing to the examination, darling,” I told Rexio, smiling at him gratefully. “It was very informative.”

“No problem,” he replied as he sat down on the mattress.

It was a lie, of course; I could tell he was uncomfortable at parts of the physical examination. And it had taken me a long time to convince him to agree to it, after all. But it would have been impolite to point that out.

“I have a few more matters to attend to today,” I said instead, my smile faltering a bit, “so I’m afraid I probably won’t be able to visit you again before you leave.”

“Wait, ya’re leavin’?” Candi interjected. When Rexio nodded, she asked: “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Aw, just when Ah’d gotten used t’ yar company,” Candi replied, frowning a bit. “Though Ah suppose it’s for the best, ya know, considerin’...” she added, trailing off as she gesticulated with her hoof, first at Rexio then back at the door leading out to the town.

“A sad reality, if you’d ask me,” I said while Rexio chuckled in agreement to Candi’s words. “In any case, I would like to take this opportunity to bid my farewell to you, darling,” I told him, stepping closer. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope we’ll meet again someday,” I said, extending my forehoof to him.

Rexio smiled and reached to my hoof, a little bashfully, grabing it gently with his paw. “Likewise, Angel.”

I smiled sweetly as he shook my hoof, but I didn’t take it back when he released his hold. “One more thing, darling, now that the physical examination is over and you have no reason to be uncomfortable anymore, I would like to properly thank you,” I said and, before he could react, I trotted closer, pressed my hoof against his chest and rose on my hind legs, using my forehoof as help myself to stand high enough, and reached with my muzzle to his cheek, placing a kiss on it. “Thank you for saving me,” I told him affectionately after I pulled back a bit, gazing into his eyes with gratefulness.

Rexio, blushing fiercely, managed to stammer: “Y-you’re welcome,” in reply.

Smiling, I dropped down to the floor and began to trot away.

“And weird,” Candi added as I passed her on my way out.

“A kiss on a cheek is a proper way to show somebody their appreciation, sweetie,” I told her in return, shrugging a little. “Now if you excuse me, I have to check on Apple Core and see if I can safely remove her cast.”

“Sure, have fun, like ya seem t’ have most ‘f the time,” she replied, giggling with amusement.

Shaking my head, I didn’t bother replying to that, and instead smiled and waved back in farewell as I left her clinic.

“There,” I said about half an hour later as I finished removing Apple Core’s cast, “all done sweetie.”

I was in Turnpike Tavern, in one of the free rooms it had that Apple Core’s brother had allowed my slaver companions to stay in, to be specific. It was small, with the three mattresses they slept on occupying almost half of the space. (When I saw it for the first time two days ago I found myself even more grateful for Ditzy’s hospitality, being forced to sleep in those conditions, especially since one or more of my companions had some guests overnight if the scent was of any indication, would be a bit uncomfortable for my taste.)

“Finally,” the slightly annoyed mare snorted, as she massaged her now free leg. “Was ‘at really necessary?”

“As I have already told you, it was important that you wouldn’t move your leg too much while it recovers, and considering what I know about…” I hesitated briefly, searching for the best term to use, “... the activities you partake in your free time…”

Apple Core interrupted me with another snort. “Yeah, mah activities are somethin’ t’ be ashamed ‘bout.”

“Oh, sweetie, it wasn’t my intention to shame you,” I quickly assured her, “I was merely attempting to use a socially acceptable term to talk about… wait,” I stopped, frowning as it registered with me what she had said, “were you talking about me and Ditzy?”

Apple Core opened her mouth, probably to deliver another snarky remark, but an exclamation from the other side of the room interrupted her. “Apple Core, please don’t get her started again,” Catch told her, sounding a little exasperated; she and Mousetrap were laying on their mattresses, waiting for us to be done. “If I have to hear another lecture about ghoul ponies having feelings and rights and what not I’m gonna shoot myself.”

I looked at the older slaver with mild annoyance, but chose to not comment; I had indeed spoken about ghouls the other day after a similar remark as now had prompted me. The day before as well, actually. I could understand how somepony could be annoyed at the prospect of listening to such lecture another time.

So instead I resumed examining Apple Core’s leg, moving it and bending it while enveloped by my magic.

“Ah thought ya said ya were ‘all done’,” the slaver mare remarked.

“Final check-up, sweetie,” I replied, a little coldly. “Move your foreleg like this now for a moment.”

Apple Core rolled her eyes as she began to move her foreleg like I was showing her, then turned to the other two slavers while doing so. “Okay, so since mah leg s’right - unless she rips it off or somethin’ out of spite - the plan t’ leave tomorrow is still on.”

“I would never intentionally harm my patients, sweetie,” I sighed, looking up into the ceiling in exasperation.

Apple Core proceeded to ignore me, still speaking with Catch and Mousetrap. “So, will those guys ya found be ready by then?”

Guys? Pinkie’s apparition appeared beside me, asking a question that I myself had right then.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” I began as the other two slavers nodded in reply, “what do you mean by ‘guys’?”

“A few ponies we convinced to come work for us,” Catch replied. “What, did you think that Mousetrap and I would just get drunk and laid while you two are recovering or were out getting almost killed? We’ve talked with some caravan guards that came to New Appleloosa since then,” she continued, not waiting for my answer, “they're probably not as good your mercenary team was, but we’ve figured getting them would be better than returning with just the griffin. Even if he is a Bloodtalon like you’ve said,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Ya would doubt that if ya ‘ad seen ‘im in action,” Apple Core told her, but I merely nodded absentmindedly, already analyzing what Catch had said and thinking of the implications.

I had a feeling that they wouldn’t be too good for me. Black Widow had sent me here precisely because of my “diplomatic skills”. She had expected me to be the one to convince mercenaries to come and help with this tribe problem. What were the results that I had accomplished, though? I was fairly certain that the way Black Widow would look at them, it would be that I had almost gotten myself and Apple Core killed, wasted five days, and all I had to show for it were a single griffin. Whom I haven’t even seen for two days and suspected that he wouldn’t take Black Widow’s job offer anyway.

I may end up losing whatever favor I have with her, I realized, feeling uneasy; I suspected that it would complicate my plans if Black Widow became unhappy with me. All the more reason I’d better talk with Jack and convince him to accept the job.

Even if it would mean I still only got one mercenary against Catch and Mousetrap’s… however many “a few” was, I assumed Jack would be far more valuable addition to Appleloosa’s forces. For one thing, I had seen what he’s capable of, and based on Apple Core’s reaction such level of skills was rare in this part of the Wasteland. However, his main advantage over the ponies Catch had mentioned was that he could fly; he would be able to locate this tribe easily and quickly.

Also, I added while the others continued to talk about Jack and how swiftly he killed those five raiders, there’s also the matter of Scope I have to consider… It would be dangerous to tell Black Widow about everything that had happened and what Scope had said, but if my suspicions are correct, just describing how he looked should unsettle her.

I was pulled out of my musing by Catch. “On that note,” she said, turning to me; I wondered briefly on what ‘note’ they’d just been talking about, “are you sure that this apparent Hooded Figure of yours won’t come?”

Oh, that again.

“Yes, I am sure, sweetie,” I replied, rolling my eyes a little due to having to explain this once again. “He prefers to keep to himself and dislikes being around other ponies for too long.”

It was the truth, to some extent, even if his concern about being around ponies was mostly caused by worry that they would discover that he’s a hellhound and causing a panic in turn (and possibly attempt to shoot at him). More importantly, though, I highly doubted that he would agree to help slavers anyway; I considered myself to have a good enough grasp on the morality of others that I figured that a person who rescued a stranger for no ulterior motive wouldn’t help ponies who enslave others. As such, I hadn’t even bother asking him about it.

Even though, to be honest, it would be really nice if I could spend more time with him. Not to mention how helpful he could be to my plans...

“The only reason why he’s staying so long in New Appleloosa as he is because of his injury,” I finished replying to Catch, not wanting to linger on such thoughts for too long.

“What, he’s really that shy?” Mousetrap asked.

“For good reason,” Apple Core muttered, still loud enough for all of us to hear though.

“Oh, so you have seen what he looks like unders that hood too then?” Mousetrap asked her, gazing at her curiously. “So, what, is he some freaky ghoul or just super ugly or what?”

“Um…” Apple Core hesitated, glancing at me, then uttered a tired sigh. “Look, Ah promised ‘er Ah wouldn’t talk about ‘er ‘patient’, and she did save mah life so Ah owe ‘er that much,” she said, a little uncomfortably.

I flashed her a brief smile, happy that she kept her promise; I hoped she would remember it after returning to old Appleloosa as well. I figured that if the word would get around that the Hooded Figure was actually a hellhound, Rexio would find it harder to approach towns than he already did.

Her answer clearly wasn’t to Mousetrap’s liking, though. “You both suck,” she said, pouting.

“More importantly,” Apple Core spoke up, turning to me again, “are ya sure Jack will be back before we leave?”

“He said he would, and he hadn’t given me any reason to doubt his word so far,” I replied calmly, hiding just how bothered I was by this very issue myself. “I am more concerned whether or not he will accept Black Widow’s offer.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Catch asked, frowning. “If he really is a Bloodtalon, this should be an easy job for him; heck, he could probably take out this tribe himself.”

“And considering that he just lost his entire team he could probably use this job,” Mousetrap added. I glared at her, upset that she would speak so lightly about such matter. “What, too soon?”

My glare lingered on her a second longer, then I turned to Apple Core. “I think I’ll go ask around the town if somepony has seen him today,” I told her, ignoring Mousetrap’s question.

“Suit yarself,” Apple Core replied, shrugging, as if she didn’t care; on the other hoof, it wasn’t her that would disappoint Black Widow if Jack wouldn’t show up. I wondered briefly if she didn’t care if I got into trouble, or simply hadn’t thought about it that much. Or if I was overthinking Black Widow’s possible reaction. “Ah’d rather spend the last hours ‘ere havin’ some fun instead ‘f worryin’ ‘bout stuff Ah can’t do,” she added, getting up from her mattress. Turning to Catch and Mousetrap, she asked “Ya girls comin’ too?”

As the other two slavers voiced their agreements, I began to trot towards the door, pondering if I should join them or not; after all, I could quickly determine whether or not Jack had been seen in New Appleloosa, and although going back to Ditzy earlier than I had planned was a tempting idea, I felt that I owed my companions to spend with them at least some time. Even if most of the activities they’d partake in involve things I don’t often take a part in, such as drinking.

“And speakin’ of havin’ fun,” Apple Core spoke up as I opened the door and held it up for them; glancing at her, I realized that she was speaking to me: “ya better remember that we’re leavin’ tomorrow and don’t stay up too late with tha- I mean, Derpy,” she corrected herself, rolling her eyes and sighing; despite deciding to become nicer to Ditzy and actually trying to, she’d found it to be a bit of a difficult transition.

I still frowned hearing her, though not because of the near slip-up, but due to her comment. “I believe it is I who should be worried about you being late due to the night of debauchery, sweetie,” I pointed out. Before any of them could reply (which I expected would either involve a comment on my and Ditzy’s relationship or an inquiry about what debauchery meant) I added “You don’t have to worry about me, I assure you however Ditzy and I shall spend this night, I don’t intend to be late.”

“Um… good,” Apple Core replied after as a second, a little hesitantly. “Okay, let’s just forget Ah said anythin’, sound good everypony?” she asked, looking from me to the others, who had quickly nodded.

Looking up and shaking my head, I waited for them to leave before letting the door close and following after them down the corridor and down the stairs, leading towards the Turnpike Tavern’s proper.

“Oh, Angel!” Apple Whiskey exclaimed from behind the bar as he noticed me. “Are ya joinin’ them this time? Ya still ‘ave a bottle ‘f our finest on me for savin’ mah sis,” he reminded me, smiling.

“Thank you, sweetie, but maybe some other time,” I replied, a bit sheepishly; it was getting harder to refuse his gratitude. As Apple Core and the others trotted towards a free table, telling their orders to Apple Whiskey in passing, I went to the counter and sat next to him. “I hoped to meet Jack; you haven’t seen him by any chance, have you?”

But Apple Whiskey was already shaking his head even before I finished my question. “Nope, sorry, haven’t seen ‘im today either,” he said, preparing the drinks my companions had ordered. “And considerin’ what ya girls told me ‘bout what happened t’ his pals, well, Ah’ve got a feelin’ when he get’s back he’d come ‘ere to drown his sorrows, so Ah would be the first to know when he’s back.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, frowning; what Apple Whiskey said made sense. I knew that a lot of ponies would often turn to alcohol or drugs or some similar substances when dealing with grief. If Jack hadn’t searched for me and hadn’t come here to drink, then he truly wasn’t back yet. “Well, if he does come, would you be so kind to tell him that I’ve been looking for him, sweetie?”

“Sure. Want me t’ pass anythin’ more?”

“Just tell him that I want to talk with him,” I told him, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, sweetie.”

Nodding him farewell, I turned around, trotting slowly through the tavern and wondering what to do. My gaze fell on the table where Apple Core and the others were, and once again I contemplated joining them for a bit… but then I spotted a familiar elder earth pony sitting close by, the same one who had offered me to teach me hoof-to-hoof combat, or “the sweet science”, as he had called it.

Before I could stop it, I found my thoughts returning to the Stable Eleven’s Overmare’s office. To how I couldn’t do anything to Scope because I was focusing my magic on Jack and Apple Core. If I had known how to fight, I thought, would I have been able to prevent Burst’s and Blast’s deaths?

He’d still have a gun pointed at you, Pinkie Pie pointed out, appearing together with Fluttershy. So I’m not sure how knowing how to punch and kick would help you.

Perhaps… I agreed, pausing before the tavern’s door. But maybe it would help. I won’t know unless I try, won’t I? I asked them as I turned from the door and headed to the older buck.

I guess that makes sense? Pinkie replied as she exchanged a look with Fluttershy.

Oh, I just wish this wasn’t necessary, the other apparition said, appearing a little dispirited at the concept. I don’t like to see ponies fighting. But if that happens again in the future, I would prefer if you survived and that saved others, so I suppose maybe it should be worth a try.

Well, it is always fun to try new things, Pinkie agreed, grinning at me as I stopped beside the earth pony, then together they disappeared.

“Excuse me, sweetie?” I called out to him softly, causing him to look up from his drink.

“Oh, hello lass,” he said in greeting, unfazed by the fact that a mare he had talked only once four days ago had now approached him. “Ready to take me up on my offer?”

“Why, yes I am sweetie,” I told him, slightly unnerved by his surprising directness. “I was just about to ask if that offer is still up.”

“Sure it is, lass,” he replied, waving his hoof dismissively, as if meaning that he considered this matter to be obvious. “You have time now? Great,” he added as I nodded and rose from his table, “let's go outside and see what I can teach you. You see, it's all about getting your whole wee body to snap just like a whip…”

I continued to listen attentively as he continued while I followed him towards the exit, memorizing everything. The matter-off-fact tone of his words and confidence had began affect me, dispersing the remains of my doubt about this idea.

Yes, I thought, I believe that this was definitely a good idea.

Two sweaty hours later, I wasn’t so sure of that.

Of course, I hadn’t expected that I would be any good when it came to fighting (years of play fighting with Demon as foals had made that very clear to me), but I hadn’t thought that it would be this difficult. My instructor had told me to kick his forehooves with both my fore- and hindhooves, first lightly then gradually to put more strength into them (I was fairly certain there wasn’t much of a difference) as I would “turn my entire body into the kick” (which I was pretty sure I was failing to do), to try and block his own attacks, keeping my eyes constantly on him as he moved around me preparing to strike and when he would strike me (the latter turning out to be particularly difficult), to kick back… Despite the many breaks we’d taken, and the fact that he wasn’t hitting me hard (at least when compared to what my body had suffered at the hooves of Scope and the raider Clawface), I was very exhausted and very bruised.

Or rather, had been bruised; despite my usual reluctance to use magic to heal such insignificant injuries, I quickly found myself unable to focus on the training from the pain and began to heal myself every time we'd take a break.

Strangely, my self-appointed instructor had remained in good spirits throughout this session, even if I myself hadn’t. “So you see what you were doin' wrong then?” he asked me as we came back into the Turnpike Tavern, without a hint of malice.

Does thinking I could actually learn how to fight a pony like Scope and win count? I wondered, a bit bitterly. As we entered the tavern, I looked around to see if my slaver companions were still around, not enjoying the thought of them seeing me in such low spirits, but to my relief they were gone. Also, since I’ve never really tried fighting before, I believe it would have been more appropriate to say “what I’m doing wrong”.

Outloud, though, I hadn’t said any of that, fearing that my gracious instructor would assume that my annoyance was directed at him. “Yes, I believe I do. Thank you very kindly for your time,” I said, feeling truly grateful to the old buck regardless of what I thought regarding my fighting skills (if it could even be called ‘skill’) improvement. I pondered briefly of a way to express my gratitude to him, and even though it wasn’t something I’d usually do, our location had practically forced the idea unto me. “Um, could I buy you a drink, or give you some caps to buy one? It’s the least I could do…”

But the earth pony was already shaking his head. “No, no, no. I could nay take money from ye. It was my very own pleasure to teach what I know.”

“Oh, if you say so…” I replied, a little disappointed that I couldn’t repay him for his efforts. At the same time, though, I was pleased to see that ponies were still capable of being generous to others. “I’m glad to hear you took pleasure in teaching me, sweetie. Especially since, well, in sharp contrast to my years of medical studies I hadn’t proven to be a talented student,” I said, feeling my cheeks burning ever so slightly with embarrassment. “I’m not sure if you hadn’t wasted your efforts on me-”

The buck chuckled warmly, interrupting me, as we’d reached the table at which he sat earlier, waving at Apple Whiskey and motioning to him for another order. “Oh, I would nay say that. Ye think I would bother teachin’ ye if I thought I’d waste my efforts? I first spoke up to ye those few days ago because I can see it,” he explained as I gave him a curious gaze; or rather, began to explain. “You’re a fighter, lass.”

I blinked, surprise. “I… believe the last two hours or so, at least according to my PipBuck, had proven otherwise,” I told him, frowning in confusion as I wondered whether he wasn’t making fun of me.

While the smile on the buck’s muzzle indeed betrayed his amusement, there wasn’t any ridicule in as far as I could tell, and I’ve known ridicule.

“Ye might not have a body of a fighter, lass, but ye have a soul of one. I can see it clearly in yer eyes.”

A soul of a fighter? I pondered his thoughts, now even more confused. Do I really have such a soul? I suppose he meant this metaphorically, as in ‘never give up’... I mean, it’s not like he could actually see my soul, I amended with a bit of amusement.

Yeah, Pinkie Pie agreed, hovering next to my head and holding her muzzle as she giggled. I mean, ponies seeing souls? That’s cray-cray! she added, her giggling increasing in volume.

Um, Pinkie… Fluttershy spoke up from beside her, tapping her shoulder in an effort to gain her attention for some reason and failing.

I was about to ask the pegasus apparition what did she want from Pinkie, but my attention was briefly taken by Apple Whiskey as he brought my fighting instructor his order: a bottle of whiskey.

On the other hoof, I’m beginning to understand how he could assume to see a soul, I commented, recalling that I could smell a faint trace of alcohol in his breath throughout our training.

However, my thoughts quickly left the topic of alcohol and the effects inebriation could have had on my instructor, as I noticed the look Apple Whiskey was giving me. When I turned to him with a question at the tip of my tongue, he immediately nodded at something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, confused… and then I saw Jack, sitting alone at the table at the back of the bar.

Finally! I thought, overjoyed.

Turning back to Apple Whiskey, I gave him a gracious smile, then turned to my instructor. “Thank you for telling me that, sweetie, I’ll remember that as well as all you taught me, but it’s time for me to leave now,” I told him as Apple Whiskey went back to the counter.

He nodded approvingly. “You take care o' yourself now. And if anyone asks... you just tell 'em that Fightin' Joe taught you how to fight that way.”

Even though I hoped I wouldn’t be forced to display my fighting skill to anypony anytime soon, I replied: “I will, sweetie. Thank you. Goodbye.”

I turned around and trotted over to Jack. The griffin was partially obscured by shadows, but despite that I could make out his empty expression as he stared down at the glass of what - based on the label on the bottle that was next to his forepaw - I assumed to be Wild Pegasus. However, as I approached him, he looked up from his glass, focus returning to his gaze.

“Ah, Doctor,” he said in greeting; an amused grin appeared on his beak as he added “So, did you have any more unlikely encounters since the last time I saw you? Because honestly, after that hellhound and those Enclave assholes, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve become friends with a dragon.”

“No, sweetie, I-” I began to reply, but then paused, staring at him wide-eyed. “Wait, there are dragons in the Wasteland?! I mean, I know about dragons, obviously,” I explained, ignoring that Jack had groaned and facepawed, too absorbed, “I’ve read about them, but I hadn’t even thought about them surviving-”

“For the love of…” Jack’s annoyed growl managed to cut through my wonderment, making me stop. “Yes, dragons survived when ponies and zebra decided to blow up everything two hundred years ago, but I don’t think there are any in the Equestrian Wasteland, that was the point. Now,” he said, his voice losing some of his anger and growing serious, “the bartender had said that you wanted to talk with me?” Jack asked, pointing at the opposite side of the table.

Accepting the invitation - as I made a mental note of what he said about dragons before purging my thoughts of them; I knew only too well how my excitement could annoy Jack - I quickly joined him. “Yes, sweetie, about several things in fact,” I began as I sat down. Then, despite knowing that he’d probably prefer to not talk about it, I asked, “The first of course being your health. Have you had any dizzy spells since you left New Appleloosa two days ago?” Ignoring Jack’s eyeroll, I continued, “Memory lapses?”

“No, nothing of that sort,” Jack replied, giving out a tired sigh. “And would I even know if I had any memory lapse, anyway?”

That’s actually a good point, I noted, frowning.

“That would depend on what how big of a lapse it would be, so to speak,” I said after a brief moment. “For example, if you’d lose your memory of about, say, ten hours, the different time of day would probably make you realize-”

“Oh, by the Egg, nevermind,” Jack interrupted me, annoyed. Not wanting to upset him before I got a chance to convince him to stay in old Appleloosa and help me, I stopped, and watched as he poured himself another drink. “No, I haven’t noticed losing any hours, and I also happen to remember everything that happened in my life so no memory loss either. Now, can we drop that subject? I’m really not in the mood,” he added, almost angrily, as he gulped down from the glass.

I bit my lip, upset at his refusal to talk about his medical condition. To be fair, he appeared to be perfectly fine, and both myself and Candi had examined him, but I would have preferred to check on him again now that some time had passed. Especially since I could use magic again, I would be able to check if there were any damage done to his brain. However, if I continued to push on this matter, he’d probably be less likely to listen to what else I had to say.

I suppose this can wait until we’ll arrive in Appleloosa, I decided unhappily. But if it will turn out that he does require further treatment, I’ll make sure he won’t forget about this!

Resigned, I chose to focus on the reason why he appeared to be so angry. “Does this mean you weren’t able to find this pony that gave Scope that holotape?” I deduced carefully.

Another growl escaped from Jack. “I found that caravan he had left with. Apparently, he vanished the night before from their camp; the pony who was supposed to change him on watch duty couldn’t find him,” he explained as I blinked in surprise. “I spent all this time trying pick up his trail in the area, but the rain must have washed it, assuming there was any to begin with.”

“Assuming?” I repeated, unsure what exactly he was insinuating.

“There are no settlements in the immediate area, other than New Appleloosa. It doesn’t make sense for him to leave the safety of a group and wander alone for days,” Jack explained, then, without looking down he reached to his side and pulled something out. “It’s a radio communicator,” the griffin informed me as he laid the rectangular device on the table; it had a small antenna, a speaker and a few knobs on it. “I found it in Scope’s stuff back in our quarters. It seems to be somewhat modified, which maybe increased its range. If what you said about Scope being part of some organization is true, then he could have used it to contact them and then had them send a unicorn capable of teleporting over long distances or a team that could move stealthily to pick his little informant up. It’s a stretch,” he remarked, his eyes widening as he sighed and waved with his paw in exasperation, “but it’s about the only way I could explain him leaving the caravan so far away from anywhere and leaving no trace,” he finished, taking another swig of his drink.

I looked at the radio communicator as he drank. I couldn’t see signs of those “modifications” he had mentioned, but then again I was completely unfamiliar with how such type of device was supposed to look like. About the only point of reference I had was having seen similar radios in some comics Demon’s used to read when we were foals.

“Those modifications are on the interior,” Jack explained as he figured out what I was looking for on the device. I glanced at him just in time to see him roll his eyes. “I opened it back before I left, on a hunch. Anyway,” he said dismissively as he grabbed it and put it back away, “even if I got it to somebody who’s good with technical gadgets, I doubt it would give me any clue as to what I’m dealing with here and where to look for them, so that’s a dead end. I have no leads. Well,” he amended, giving me an almost a disinterested glare, “aside from what you’ve said about Scope being interested in Black Widow and having mentioned Stalliongrad, that is. Assuming that it’s true of course.”

“I can’t help but notice that the way you said it suggests that you don’t believe what I’ve said is true,” I noted, slightly offended.

Jack snorted. “A guy I thought I could trust shot me in the head, excuse me for having doubts about a mare I met a few days ago,” he said, pouring whiskey to his glass again.

“How about a mare who saved your life?” I couldn’t help but point out, the corner of my mouth curling up into a half-smile.

The griffin chuckled briefly in reply. “I suppose. To be honest, I don’t know what to believe right now,” he explained, shaking his head. He grabbed his glass, about to drink from it, but after a brief hesitation he pushed it away and let go. “What did you want to talk about again?” he asked, sighing.

I waited for a few seconds before replying, studying him. It was clear that Jack was in a very bad place right now. His only lead to the organization that had sent Scope to spy on him and ultimately assassinate him and his friends turned out to be a dead end. He seemed… dejected because of this failure. I could offer him a way out of the place he was in, but would he welcome it?

Well, you certainly can’t just keep to yourself what could help him, Fluttershy pointed out. Turning to look at Jack with sorrow, she added And since I don’t think he would welcome hugs from you at this moment, well…

Then that is the only way to help him, I finished for the apparition as she trailed off. To help both of us.

Taking a deep breath, I began, “About the identity of this group that Scope had been part of. I believe I have a good guess regarding it, and I can offer you the means to find out whether I am right or not. And even if I am wrong,” I added, shrugging, “then we will find out their identity for sure.”

“Oh?” Jack exclaimed, looking at with a mixture of suspicion and amusement. “There’s a ‘we’ now, huh?”

I gazed into his eyes before answering. “There could be,” I told him, calmly and seriously. “Is it hard to believe that I’d like to help you track down this organization that is responsible for the deaths of Burst and Blast? That I harbor the need for revenge and justice as well?” I elaborated as Jack’s brow had slightly raised.

“Considering you knew them for less than a day? Yes, it is,” Jack said, his brow now furrowed.

Still looking into his eyes I replied, “A pony who would let such matter be, who wouldn’t want to avenge her comrades, however briefly she had known them, and who wouldn’t want to bring a dishonest group who would spy while posing as their friends and murder people for just considering them a threat?” I said, my eyes narrowing at the slight anger that crept into my soul as I worded this organization’s despicable actions, then relaxed as I finished my thought. “That pony would have no right to call herself the Princess of Equestria. And I did care for them,” I added, looking away from Jack and down at the table. “As their friend and a doctor, I wish I could have saved them, but all I can do to help is to avenge them.”

Several seconds had passed before Jack snorted. “Again with that messiah complex,” he remarked. “I really can’t tell whether you are that delusional or are you just trying to use me. But fine then,” he said before I could deny either accusation, “let’s leave that for now. What do you think you know about this organization, and how could we learn more?”

“Well,” I began, still a little upset about how he dismissed my objections before I could have even made them, “let me start by telling you about the identity of Scope’s organization. Based on the information I had been able to gather, I suspect that they are called S-”

“Steel Rangers?” Jack asked, one eyebrow raised.

I stared at him, surprised that he knew what I was going to say. “Um, yes, that is my theory. How-”

“It’s literally the first group that comes to mind when Stalliongrad is involved, and that’s where you’ve said Scope had mentioned he’d take you,” Jack explained, shrugging. “Everybody knows that it’s basically the Steel Ranger’s city. Well, at least everybody who lived more than two weeks in the Wasteland I suppose, seeing your reaction,” he amended, looking at me thoughtfully, no doubt noticing my confused and intrigued expression. “You seriously didn't know about that?”

I shook my head. “I only know what little I could read in my Stable about Stalliongrad from before the Last Day,” I confessed. “I have no idea what became of the city afterwards.”

Despite that I was supposed to be currently focused on the task of convincing Jack, I found myself wondering about Stalliongrad. It was only the second time this name had been brought up to my attention, but it was becoming apparent that, by having ties to Scope, I already had an enemy there waiting for me.

If I truly wish to bring this organization to justice, I thought, I will have to go there someday.

Putting such plan-making for a further point in the future, I readjusted my focus on the matter currently at hoof. After hearing my response, Jack’s eyes turned upwards as he uttered a tired sigh, then after a few seconds they returned to me. “A lot of things happened to it afterwards, along with every other part of this country. But currently - and for the last several decades - it’s where the strongest contingent of Steel Rangers are located. And they’re about the only real power over there, really, so if Scope’s organization is really based there the Steel Rangers are the only name that comes to mind. But that’s very unlikely to be the case,” he said, frowning. “Joining my group to spy on us I could understand, but posing as a mercenary for years before that? Sending out unaffiliated with them ponies with secret messages? That doesn’t seem like Steel Rangers’ M.O. at all. Modus operandi,” Jack explained as I gave him a quizzical look.

“Ah, a mode of working,” I said, nodding with understanding.

Jack blinked in brief surprise, but shook it off and moved on. “So yeah, they’re more of ‘recover technology while killing everybody standing between them and it’ kind of ponies. So unless you tell me several good reasons why you’ve assumed them to be connected to Scope, I’m afraid I won’t buy it,” he said, shrugging again and leaning back, looking at me expectantly.

Confident that what I was about to say would make Jack ‘buy it’, as he had said, I cleared my throat and began to list my reasons. “Well then, sweetie, for starters, In the time between you leaving Stable Eleven and the arrival of the raiders, I had been able to conduct a post mortem examination on Scope’s body. I believe you’ll find it interesting to know that his internal organs were all in perfect condition, with no radiation caused alteration whatsoever.” I decided to omit that so far all my knowledge regarding radiation effect on the body was limited to Stable Eight’s pre-war medical textbooks and my examination of Ditzy; I really needed to perform a dissection or vivisection on an average wastelander soon. “It’s clear that he had an access to professional medical care, and what’s more, the excellent state of his teeth points out to a great dental care as well, most likely throughout the majority of his life. I believe that’s an even rarer commodity in the Wasteland, a commodity that only a few groups would have access to; Steel Rangers, from what I’ve heard of them, would seem to be one of such groups. They are a branch of the Equestrian military, are they not?” I asked Jack, tilting my head in an invitation for him to speak. “Or rather, the descendants of the original members?”

“Sort of,” Jack agreed, shrugging. Frowning, he added “That’s a good point about medical care, I’ll give you that, but it doesn’t automatically point out to Steel Rangers. They’re not the only ones with good medical and even dental care. It would be far more likely that Scope have been born in Tenpony, or in some Stable. Or that he’s from Thunderhead, but that would be a long shot,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Thunderhead?” I repeated the name, curious. Like Stalliongrad, this was the second time I’ve heard that name. “You mentioned it when you were talking with the pegasi; assuming one could call that talking,” I couldn’t help but point out, despite not having high opinion regarding those ponies myself, “it was bordering on antagonizing to be honest.”

“It’s one of the Enclave’s cloud-cities,” Jack replied, his frown turning into a deadpan. “Also, seriously? You’re going to give me the hard time for my attitude towards them? Didn’t they shoot the guy who rescued you from the raiders?”

“I hadn’t forgotten that, sweetie,” I told him, my gaze turning cold very briefly due to the suggestion that I could have. “I assure you, I was very cross with those five. You, however,” I added, gently, “seemed to… already have an opinion regarding this Enclave, an unfavourable one to be precise.”

“You could say that,” Jack snorted as he shook his head. “I suppose the fact that they raided the griffin’s lands for resources after they ran out of them above their clouds could have contributed to that, but really, I just generally don’t like people who’d turn their backs on their species like the Enclave had.”

As I listened to his brief - and, I suspected, largely abridged - explanation behind his attitude towards the Enclave ponies, I found myself nodding in understanding. After all, I, too, despised traitors, and how else should one call the pegasi for abandoning the rest of ponykind for two hundred years?

At the same time, though, I noticed a slight hypocrisy in Jack’s reasoning. I opened my mouth to point it out, but he was already deadpanning at me, having figured out what I was about to say. “Me leaving the Bloodtalons was different, trust me. Besides,” he added, his voice lowered, grabbing his glass away and lifting it to his beak, “I never said that I liked myself, did I?” I blinked and looked at him thought thoughtfully, wondering how worrisome that statement was, as he took a sip from the glass and placed it back on the table. “So, got any more reasons why you suspect that Scope was a Steel Ranger?” he asked, clearly not wanting the conversation to move on to another topic.

Despite that, though, there was something that puzzled me (Well, a lot of this, actually, but I’ll be content with only this one explained for now.). “Yes, but could you first explain to me how could a unicorn like Scope possible come from a pegasus’ ‘cloud-city’?”

Jack, who’s brow began to furrow, probably having expected the question to be related to either Bloodtalons or him, relaxed. “Oh, that… they have a small unicorn population over there,” he explained, waving his paw dismissively. “Descendants from the unicorns who were working in the nearby Shadowbolt Tower when the bombs fell.”

“Shadowbolt Tower?” I repeated questioningly, causing the griffin to groan in annoyance.

“Look, can we please move this conversation along already?” Jack turned to me almost pleadingly. “Because if we have to stop every five seconds for me to explain something about the Wasteland we’ll be sitting here all night.”

Although I disliked the thought of having to wait to for my questions to be answered, I had to agree that he had a point. Convincing Jack that I had the means to learn more about Scope’s organization was more important than knowing a thing or two more about the Wasteland right away. I could wait.

A bit regrettably, I nodded. “Very well. Let us move on to another reason why I suspect that Scope was affiliated with the Steel Rangers; back when he listed all the information he gained after joining your team, he mentioned a Steel Ranger’s ‘information broker’ as he phrased it.” That caused Jack’s gaze to flicker with interest. The griffin scratched his beak thoughtfully as I continued. “Now, I suppose such information would be useful to everybody, that there is somepony from an organization like Steel Rangers who would sell out the kind of information a group like them could possess. However,” I added, frowning as if I tried to remember something, “I seem to recall him saying something about how it would have been better to kill this pony instead of paying-”

“Yes, I remember,” Jack interrupted me; he spoke calmly and wasn’t looking at me, his gaze becoming vacant as he turned it towards the table. “One of the Scribes from Fillydelphia’s contingent of Steel Rangers sells their intel on the side; a friend in one of the Talon companies told me about him. That’s how I got the location of Stable Eleven and the override code… Scope had been irritated by the whole thing, but I assumed it was because of the cost. Indeed, it would make little sense for him to want to kill the buck if he was a part of some organization, unless…” he trailed off, clearly reluctant to finish that sentence.

“Unless he was a part of Steel Rangers himself,” I finished for him. “He would clearly be displeased with the fact that he sells their intel. He probably planned to report him to his superiors after finishing his assignment,” I added, figuring that I didn't have to remind him that Scope’s assignment was him.

Jack nodded, thoughtfully if a bit reluctantly. “Alright, that’s an interesting point, I’ll admit. Got anything else?” he asked, returning his attention to me.

“Well, there is one more reason why I suspect him to be a member of Steel Rangers: his interest in Black Widow. Now, perhaps you’ll find it strangely coincidental, but I already had begun to suspect that Black Widow was somehow affiliated with the Steel Rangers, too. I’ve learned that she joined slavers around the same time they ran into a fight with Steel Rangers,” I continued, ignoring the way in which Jack had raised his eyebrow. “That, coupled with what I overheard Cutter mentioning about having - I quote - ‘shit on her’ - the ‘shit’ that he had apparently explained in greater detail on that holotape he had delivered to Scope - made me consider that there was possibly a connection. Another thing worth noting is that she had named her zebra bodyguard; that’s apparently mute and obeys her every order, Khan; it’s a title of the leader of the Mustang tribe from the time before Equestria was founded. I find it hard to believe that in the Wasteland knowledge regarding history is easily acquirable, unless of course somepony grew up in a Stable like myself, in this Tenpony Tower, or been a part of this pre-war military group. And after what we have been through,” I added in a raised voice when Jack opened his beak to interrupt me, “another piece of the puzzle came into place, one that I am sure you will find to be a quite intriguing coincidence if this isn’t the case. You see,” I said, allowing myself to smirk, “Black Widow’s husband Eulogy, the one who had brought her into old Appleloosa, was killed a few years ago by a sniper’s shot, and the slavers were never able to find the shooter.”

Jack’s eyes slightly widened in comprehension of what I was suggesting; that Scope had been the one to kill Eulogy. It certainly seemed possible, if the Steel Rangers had believed that he was responsible for Black Widow leaving them. Of course, that begged the question as to why they hadn’t killed her that day as well; after all, if Scope had been able to take the shot at Eulogy, surely he must have seen Black Widow as well. And yet the way he had asked me about her in Stable Eleven suggested that he had only now learned of her (or rather, of her significance, he must have heard about Appleloosa’s slavers’ leader).

I wondered if Jack was considering the same things as me as he remained silent for several moments, frowning down at his glass. “Scope wasn’t the only pony with a sniper rifle out there in the Wasteland,” he finally said. “Although it is an interesting coincidence.”

“Assuming that it is a coincidence,” I pointed out.

“You know what’s also an interesting coincidence, assuming that it is a coincidence?” Jack asked, the latter part of his question slightly laced with mocking tone. He raised his forepaw and pointed a single talon at me. “The fact that you seem very eager to convince me that your boss is somehow involved with this.”

Taken aback by his suspicion, I blinked in surprise before answering. “Sweetie, I’ve already told you back in the Stable that Scope asked me about her-”

“Yeah, you told me; exactly my point,” Jack said, staring at me suspiciously. “All that you are saying right now could all be things you made up to make this story of your more believable, all so that I could help you take out Black Widow.”

Gee, paranoid much? Pinkie’s apparition asked sarcastically, crossing her forelegs on her chest.

Though I found myself agreeing with her comment, I hadn’t repeated it outloud. Instead, I looked him in the eyes, my ears dropped. “You think I would try to manipulate you like this, sweetie?”

Jack’s expression very briefly flickered, losing its stern for a heartbeat, but he quickly resumed staring at me coldly. “I don’t know you,” he pointed out, shrugging. “I met you only a few days ago. What I do know is that you have way with words. You can manipulate others to suit your needs. And you want me to trust what you say, without any solid proof?” he asked, raising his eyebrow again.

Though his suspicion was utterly wrong, I could not disapprove of his logic and observation. Jack took note of how I managed to stall Scope long enough to heal him, listened as I explained how I’ve outwitted the raiders, heard how I convinced the Enclave patrol to land and probably figured out how I avoided being enslaved by slavers and became their medic instead. Honestly, I should have expected that he’d think that I was trying to manipulate him.

Uttering a deep sigh, I lowered my gaze. “I suppose I can’t blame you for thinking this way,” I admitted, feeling a little hurt despite agreeing with his deduction. Trying to not dwell on it, I shook myself and looked at Jack again. “Regardless, whether you believe that I am trying to use you or not, or whether you believe what I’ve said to be true or false, you have to admit that Black Widow is the only lead you currently have. Coming to Appleloosa with us and accepting her job offer would allow you to learn for yourself whether I’ve been lying or not.”

Jack’s gaze hardened, then he looked down at his glass. He tapped it a few times with his talon in silence, contemplating. “I might have left the Bloodtalons and I’m not part of any Talon’s group,” he finally said, “but I am still a griffin mercenary. A Talon at heart. Breaking a contract or betraying my employer is against my moral code; not to mention that if word got out about it, I would find it harder to find jobs; who wants to hire a mercenary that has broken a contract? So if I’d take on a contract from Black Widow, I’d have to fulfill it and stay loyal to her. But what you’ve said she wants, to find this tribe that bothers her slavers and help them to fight them…” he trailed off, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “If I take this job from Black Widow, I’d have a paw in their death or enslavement. This tribe might be just a bunch of raiders, but they also might just be a band of normal ponies.” Jack opened his eyes and stared into mine, his gaze cold. “I’ve left the Bloodtalons because I’ve had enough of doing things that would make me lose sleep over. I'll not help the slavers take down this tribe if they aren’t raiders. So what you are asking me,” he continued, leaning back, “is to take a deal that would either force me to do something I’d regret or tarnish my professional reputation. Either way I break my moral code. Now, I would take this chance if I’d be certain that I could learn something about this organization that’s responsible for sending Scope after me and for murdering Blast and Burst. I owe it to those guys. But all I have are your words,” he finished, crossing his forelegs on his chest, “and that’s not enough for me.”

Once again, I found myself unable to disagree with his reasoning. All he had were my words; I could not blame him for not wanting to break his moral code. If anything, I was deeply impressed by his commitment to it. And by his willingness to break it if it meant avenging his friends.

Of course, the former was currently a great obstacle in my plans, and the latter was of no use to me if I couldn’t prove to Jack that I was speaking the truth.

I could still find out on my own about this organization and the connection between Scope and Black Widow, I thought, quickly weighing what little options I had. Preferably finding solid proof in the process. Then it would just be the matter of finding a way to pass this on to Jack. That way we could still avenge Burst and Blast… however, that isn’t the only reason why I want Jack to join me in Appleloosa. I need him if my plans are to succeed.

Jack sipped his drink, observing me attentively; it was as if he was aware of the thoughts raging within my mind, and was now patiently waiting for what I would say. Feeling grateful to him for giving me a chance to convince him, I took a deep, calming breath and closed my eyes, focusing.

I didn’t have any proof. As Jack had said, I had nothing other than my words. If I wanted Jack to come with me, I had to say something that would make him believe that I was saying the truth.

There is… one thing I could say… I thought, biting my lip.

It was a huge risk. A very, very big gamble. And I didn’t like taking gambles; taking an action without having all the information could lead to unpredictable and most likely tragic results. If this didn’t work out the way I hoped…

… this would be the end.

At the same time though, I thought, opening my eyes and regarding Jack, if this course of action does work out for me, I would gain a very valuable ally.

A loyal ally.

I met his gaze, steadying my breath as I laid both of my forehooves in the table. I grasped my left one with the right one in an effort to prevent them from shaking. I couldn’t afford to show fear, not when I was about to say it.

Before opening my mouth, though, I took a quick look around us, to make sure nopony was listening to our conversation. My slaver companions were, of course, still gone, but it wouldn’t do good to me if anypony were to overhear me right now. But I worried unnecessarily; our table was the furthest one from the bar and the ones closest to ours were all empty. None of the other patrons, most of which - aside from a small group playing some card game on the other end of the tavern - were sitting around the bar itself ordering and drinking alcohol, paid us any attention.

Satisfied, I turned back to Jack, and said the words that could spell my death.

“Cutter, the very pony who had made sure that holotape would be delivered to Scope in the event of his death, is alive. I’m keeping him chained up in the Appleloosa’s clinic basement.”

I was rewarded for my confession with the sight of Jack utterly surprised. His beak dropped down and his eyes widened as he stared at me, speechless for several heartbeats.

“Oooookay,” he finally said, somewhat recovered though still looking shocked, “wasn’t expecting that… why are you telling me this?” Jack asked, his brow furrowing.

“Because if I have been lying this whole time, then it would have been very stupid of me to tell you that he’s alive,” I replied, my voice calm. “All you’ll have to do is ask him. I trust that you’d be capable of determining that what’s he’s saying aren’t the words I’ve put on his lips. And I trust that you consider me a smart enough individual to not try and say that I am keeping somepony chained up in my basement if it isn’t the truth. It’s not exactly a subject to joke about. And besides,” I added, a little smirk appearing briefly on my face, “I’m sure you can agree that it was a peculiarly fortunate coincidence for me that the slavers’ medic had ‘died’ right after I arrived in Appleloosa. Taking that into a consideration, it’s not a stretch to imagine that I could very well be keeping him chained up in the clinic’s basement, would it not?”

Jack’s gaze hardened as he regarded me while he mulled over my words. I waited for his reply, paying close attention to my body, that I wasn’t shaking or breathing irregularly. That I wasn’t betraying how nervous I really was right now.

It was with both relief and sorrow that I noticed Jack going through a similar struggle. Though I suspected that he was highly more capable of remaining calm and neutral on the outside, hiding whatever emotions could rage within him, he was currently inebriated. Though his gaze never left me and it never lost any of its intensity, Jack’s face twitched a little, betraying that was conflicted.

It was a relief to know that I wasn’t the only one here struggling. But it was sorrowful to know that I caused him strife.

“And why exactly are you keeping him chained up in your basement?” Jack finally asked, regaining his calm composure.

As I was about to reply, Pinkie Pie’s apparition appeared, worry on her face, then nodded at Jack’s forepaws. Glancing away from his eyes down at the table, I realized that only one of his forepaws was currently on the table; the other was under it.

Rexio’s words came back to me: And your griffin friend, Jack? I don’t know if you had noticed, but back at the Rock Farms he was favoring his right foreleg while standing near me and had his left shoulder raised a little, so that he could swiftly grab his sword if he needed to.

He’s probably reached for his firearm, I realized, saddened. I have grown to like Jack, and was under the impression that - despite his often annoyance at me - he had shared this sentiment. And now he held a paw on his gun, ready to shoot me if I’d give him a reason to. Is this what will happen when others see this part of me, even out here in the Wasteland?

Despite my despondence, I tried to remain optimistic. If this gamble of mine pays off, I should win back his affection.

“Now, that is quite an important question,” I responded to his query, smiling pleasantly at the griffin. “One that I’m afraid I will have to answer after you’d arrived in Appleloosa and finished questioning Cutter. Once that matter is concluded, I will tell you my reasons for keeping him alive and chained in my basement, and once I do,” I added, my voice becoming gentler, “you will have to make a choice.”

Jack’s eyelid twitched. “And what kind of choice would that be, exactly?” he asked, growing more tense.

I uttered a soft giggle, amused at the thought that he had interpreted my words as a threat. “A rather simple choice, I assure you. It’s whether you will accept my reasons or not.” I hesitated, then added “Whether you will let me live or not.”

Despite my composure, I couldn’t stop my hooves from trembling a little; I knew of course when I decided to tell Jack about Cutter that this could very well be the course of action he could take, but somehow saying that he could decide to kill me made it seem all too possible. I quickly tightened my right hoof’s grasp on my left one in an effort to forestall any future shakes.

Looks like he’s noticed though, Pinkie commented as I’ve noticed Jack’s eyes glancing away from mine and focusing on my hooves. Do you think that’s bad?

Well, I had hoped to appear as serene as possible, so that he’d assume that I’m certain that I have a good reason for keeping Cutter chained up, and as such he would give me the benefit of the doubt and be… more open-minded until he hears what I’m about to say.

But wouldn’t opening up to him and showing that you’re worried show that this isn’t a trick? Fluttershy asked. I mean, he could think that you’re so calm because you’re planning to pull some trick if he’d have decided to… you know, she finished uncomfortably, her ears dropping.

Not if he’d think that I’m trying to manipulate his feelings, I replied. Although… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to show some emotions. Besides, I added as I cast my eyes down at the table, I have a better way of assuring him of his safety.

“Everybody has their reasons for doing the things they do,” I began, keeping my eyes downcast. “No matter how horrible those things may seem. However, I know only too well that not everybody can approve of the reasons behind them. So, when you see Cutter, and hear my explanation… you will either agree with me, or kill me,” I added, looking up again. I allowed myself a soft smile and continued. “I have no illusions that I would be able to prevent you from killing me if you’d chose. You wouldn’t even have to do it, actually; you could just tell the slavers that I’m keeping their previous medic chained up in the basement, and they would do it, or worse. And even if I’d have been able to prevent you from either killing me or telling them, if I’d by some miracle managed to defeat you - which is not my intention to do such in the slightest, I assure you - then the slavers would no doubt note your disappearance. Black Widow already suspects me of having a hoof in Cutter’s demise, the only reason why she hasn’t done anything about it is because it worked in her favor. She won’t do the same if a griffin mercenary, a former Bloodtalon at that, which she had recently hired, disappeared, which is why you have absolutely nothing to fear from me. So… this is my proof to you,” I finished, spreading out my forehooves. “The proof that I’m not lying is my own life, put on the line.”

Jack continued to stare at me, not blinking, for several long heartbeats after I had finished. I waited, patiently, my forelegs still spread to emphasize the honesty to him. I was confident that in but a few seconds, while not exactly calmed by my promise of explanation and resignation to my fate as well as his safety, Jack would agree-

“I won’t be going to Appleloosa with you tomorrow.”

My mouth hung down open due to the sheer surprise; for an instant I was reduced to staring at him like that and blinking, unsure if I had understood him correctly.

“Um…” I began when I finally recovered, thinking rapidly at how I could fix this unexpected effects my words had - which were about the exact opposite of my intentions! - but Jack forestall anything further than that by lifting his paw.

“I won’t be coming now,” he emphasized. “I was going to when I thought I would only show up to reject Black Widow’s offer, but since now it looks like I will be staying there for a while - regardless whether I’ll kill you or not, apparently - I’ll have to first finish this job,” he said as he reached down to a pocket and showed me a holotape with those music records he had recovered from Stable Eleven. “Even if it’s just two new songs…” Jack added, muttering and shaking his head in annoyance as he hid the holotape back. “I’ll fly over to Tenpony Tower and deliver this to the client, then I will come to Appleloosa. Should take me about a week.”

“Oh, I see,” I replied, frowning as I pondered this development.

Black Widow was very possibly going to be disappointed by this, especially since all I had was Jack’s word that he would come to Appleloosa after the week had passed - even if I was very certain that he would - but I suspected that she would still be satisfied to have him working for her even if she’d have to wait a week. With those ponies my companions had gathered, the slaver’s defenses should be increased enough for her to be happy while waiting for Jack so that he could find the this tribe for her.

“I will also see Blast and Burst’s parents,” Jack added, that single sentence shattering my contemplations.

“O-oh, I… I see…” I stammered, completely taken off-guard. I had forgotten about Burst and Blast’s parents, that they had no idea that their sons were dead and were probably expecting them to come see them soon when they would be on their way back to finish the music records hunting job. Ashamed that I hadn’t thought of that, I looked away from Jack and down at the table again. Despite how just minutes ago Jack had said that I had a ‘way with words’, I have found myself at a loss of them now. What should I say to that?

Standard social protocol would dictate to ask if he could pass along my condolences, right?

After a few moments, I rose my head to meet Jack’s gaze, opened my mouth, about to ask him if he could tell something their parents from me… then closed it and looked down again without uttering a word. I had no idea what I wanted to tell their parents. Would condolences from a mare they know nothing about would matter to them? Of a doctor who failed to save their children’s lives?

“What are you going to tell them?” I finally asked, my eyes not leaving the table.

Jack didn’t reply at once. I didn’t need to look up to know that he was gazing at me studiously; I could almost feel his eyes upon me at this point. Was he trying to gauge if this was an act that I was playing in an attempt of manipulating him? That I was pretending to be moved?

“The truth,” he finally replied. “They deserve to know. I will be also mentioning you of course.” This did cause me to look up at him. To my relief, I saw Jack’s expression soften, even if only a little. “They would like to know that Burst died while trying to save you, I think. And that they received a beautiful eulogy before we buried them.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, not even wondering whether it was meant as a compliment or not. “I would like to meet them one day,” I said; a doctor has to inform the family of the deceased of their passing. Though I of course realized that this wasn’t exactly the case, I should talk to them face to face about it.

“Well,” Jack replied, shrugging, “then I guess those reasons you want to explain to me had better be good. Or moderate, I suppose,” he amended, screwing up his face and causing my ears to perk up, hopeful. “I mean, the guy was the slavers’ medic, right? He couldn’t be exactly a decent pony.”

My eyes lit up hearing that, hope swelling in my chest at the thought that not only my gamble would pay off, but also at the thought that perhaps I had found somebody who might understand me… The next moment, though, I had realized what was his line of reasoning, and it caused me to frown in mild annoyance.

“Excuse me, sweetie,” I began, strength returning to my voice, “may I remind you that I am also practically a ‘slavers’ medic’?”

Jack raised a single eyebrow, appearing to be annoyed. “Do you seriously want to go down this conversation after telling me that you are keeping somepony chained up in your basement?”

I opened my mouth to reply… but then I closed it when I realized his point. “I suppose not,” I admitted in surrender, my ears dropping. Jack sighed and shook his head, then raised his forepaw to the side of his head and massaged it. That gesture, most likely betraying his tiredness and annoyance, made me recall his injury. “You know sweetie, since you’ll be going to Tenpony Tower, maybe it would be a good idea to get examined while you’re there? It won’t hurt to get a third opinion,” I added hastily as the griffin graced me with a deadpan, “not to mention that it would be several days from your last check-up.”

Jack once again raised up his paw to interrupt me. He waited a second to make sure I had stopped talking before saying “Do you seriously think that I am not going to have my head checked after the unicorn who had messed around with it with her magic have just admitted to me that she’s a mad scientist?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Wha-” I began, shocked, then quickly stopped as I regained my composure and instead calmly (with my brow furrowed in offense) said “Excuse me, sweetie, but I am not a ‘mad scientist’.”

“So you’re saying when I’ll go to your basement I won’t find Cutter horribly terrified and exhausted after numerous experiments you had conducted on him?” Jack asked, his expression unchanged.

I worked my mouth in silence, trying to think of a response to that. “I wouldn’t say ‘numerous’,” I finally said, almost sullenly, causing Jack to snort dismissively. My gaze dropped down to my forehooves on the table as I made a little circular motion, feeling oddly, almost embarrassed, that he had figured out what I am doing to Cutter; or rather planned to do, as I really hadn’t began conducting any serious experiments. However, there was another emotion I was feeling right now, even stronger one: hurt. “I haven’t done anything to you besides healing your injuries, sweetie,” I told Jack, looking back up at him again. “Nor am I going to.”

“Yeah, well, if the doctors at Tenpony don’t find anything wrong, you will get a few trust points from me,” Jack replied with an almost disinterested shrug. “If they find something, then I guess we’ll see. Regardless, I plan to hear you out; I would lie if I said that I’m not a bit curious just what the fuck are you. Now,” he added in a briskier tone, just as I was about to open my mouth and respond to his last comment, “I believe we’ve talked about everything we need to talk about. So if you wouldn’t mind, I would prefer to drink myself into stupor without the company of a pony that would make me worry if I wake up with all my internal organs still inside.” I honestly had no idea whether that was supposed to be a joke or not; he hadn’t smiled or even smirked, but he sounded almost disinterested with this matter. “I’ll see you in a week Doctor.”

Even though there was nothing in his tone or demeanor that invited any disagreements on the subject of “conclusions” of our talk, I still nodded in accord before standing up from the table. I did so reluctantly, though; I had hoped that we could have talked a bit longer, so that we would part on a bit friendlier terms.

Although considering what I had revealed, this is probably amazingly good terms to part on, I reflected. Not to mention that Jack isn’t exactly the friendliest person ever to begin with… It’s better to not risk upsetting him by attempting to improve our relationship for all of the few seconds before we be apart from each other for a whole week.

But, um, tiny Fluttershy’s voice rang quietly in my mind as I began to make my way around the table, are you sure… She hesitated, then shared a look with Pinkie Pie’s apparition who nodded supportively. Even if it’s unnecessary, isn’t there something you’d want to say?

I stopped dead in my tracks, right after passing Jack. There was… one thing that I wanted to tell Jack, before we met again and he would decide whether he kills me or not.

“Jack?” I began, glancing back at the griffin. He didn’t turn to look at me, but the glass he was raising to his beak had stopped mid-air, indicating that he was listening. “I don’t know if you will believe me or not when I say this, but… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I destroyed whatever image of me you had in your mind before.”

Jack remained silent for several seconds. “Do you assume I care so much about something like that?” he finally asked, still not looking at me.

I uttered a short chuckle. “You probably don’t,” I admitted; I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some wistfulness in my voice. “But… I’ve lost a chance to tell that to somepony that does,” I added, my ears dropping in regret. “I would rather say it now when I have a chance.”

A sound escaped Jack, a mixture between a sigh and a snort. “Try not to befriend a dragon within the next week,” he said, waving his free paw back at me in farewell.

Slightly amused, I opened my mouth to respond, but then hesitated as a thought occurred to me. “Wait, sweetie,” I began, turning around and taking a step towards him, “are you worried that I would try to feed you to a dragon in case you would decide to kill me, or did you just mean-”

Faster than I could blink, Jack turned back and reached with his forepaw to my muzzle, silencing me. “For the love of…” he began as he glared at me, annoyance mixed with anger - and something else that I couldn’t quite decipher - on his face. “... everything,” he finished after a brief hesitation, “just go already, would you?”

A bit intimidated - although I should have probably gotten used to this by now - I nodded meekly as best I could while he held my muzzle, then when he released it and turned back to his table, I similarly turned away and trotted towards the Turnpike Tavern’s door. As I passed Apple Whiskey while wishing him a good night, I realized that something about this last exchange between myself and Jack was bothering me. I couldn’t tell what, though, as he had acted almost exactly like whenever I had irritated him before. Only when I left the tavern while thinking back to several of my previous conversations with Jack, I have realized what it was.

I would have preferred if he had flickered my muzzle with his talon before turning away.

I recalled that back when I had returned to the Turnpike Tavern with Fightin’ Joe that the cloud cover above us had began to grow darker; by the time I had finished my talk with Jack and left, night had fallen. It was now completely dark outside, the streets of New Appleloosa being lit by only a few sources of light like my PipBuck, but more importantly, it was empty.

Which suited me just fine as I trotted through the town aimlessly.

I should have been returning to Ditzy, even if I had mentioned that I might be late today she was bound to start worrying at some point. Of course, I also simply wanted to return to her. This was my last night in New Appleloosa after all, at least for the foreseeable future. My last chance to spend a few more moments with her.

And yet, for now, I wished to be alone.

Perhaps I wouldn’t if I had been more used to the idea of being separated from somepony by a large distance - growing up in a Stable you’d never have such a problem - but even as I contemplated the thought, I still found myself reluctant to face another pony just yet. Even the two apparitions had sensed that, and remained silent as I trotted; I could feel their worried gazes on myself, but I ignored them. I was too occupied replaying the entire conversation I’ve had with Jack in my head, which had caused me to be so deeply unsettled.

Which, considering that I could die a week from now because of it, wasn’t really surprising.

Honestly, if I was of a better state of mind right now, I would probably find it amusing that I was more worried about dying then when I was about to face over twenty raiders. That I was worried about dying at all; after all, I was the mare that was going to discover the Truth of the world and understand the infinite cycle of life and death. I wasn’t going to die.

And yet…

I suppose it is only natural for one to be concerned about their life, I decided, turning to the two apparitions for the first time since leaving the tavern.

Finally stopping, I took a look at my surroundings. To my mild surprise, I realized that my aimless trotting had led me to the brahmins’ barn. My thoughts had immediately went to Belle and Anna, the heifers I had met and played with just a few days ago. They were long since gone, having left New Appleloosa around the same time when Jack and I had buried Burst and Blast outside of Stable Eleven. I had missed my chance to examine them, but there were plenty of brahmins still left; even now I could hear them snoring inside, some gently, other not-so-gently. Being as busy as I was since our return, I hadn’t thought about this intriguing species or that I still had to research them, but maybe it was about the time to change that? After all, examining them would not only allow me to learn more about their species, but would also take my mind off Jack and the talk we’ve just had.

So why wasn’t I walking into the barn and planning their physical examinations, and was instead still thinking about Belle and Anna?

They were such sweet little girls, I mused, smile crossing my muzzle as I sat down, resting my back against the barn’s wall and looking up at the clouded sky. There was one slightly brighter spot in the otherwise unending darkness above me; did the moon lie behind it, covered by those cruel clouds? Was Princess Luna watching me? Well, maybe Anna was a bit uncouth, I amended, frowning a little, but honestly, I blame her upbringing for that. And yes, I realize that Belle must had the exact same upbringing as Anna, but clearly she had developed better manners than her. I smiled again as I recalled her. I can’t believe that little heifer talked me into playing with the two of them… it… was nice of her to ask me to play with them, actually. It’s been so long since anypony asked me to play with them…

Angel? Fluttershy’s question pulled me out of my reminiscing. I took my eyes off the brighter part of the cloud cover to look at the two apparitions; both were looking at me with worry. Are you okay?

Why wouldn’t I… I began, but as I turned my head to better address them, I felt something wet run down my cheek. Confused, I raised my hoof to my face and brushed gently against it, then looked what it was; it was a small drop of liquid.

A tear.

Biting my lower lip, I moved my hoof to my welled-up eyes in an effort to smarten myself up.

Angel? Fluttershy tried again, not letting up.

I hesitated before replying, unsure what should I say; finally, I decided upon the truth. I don’t want Jack to kill me, I confessed, wiping away my tears and returning to staring at the covered sky, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm myself.

Oh, Angel, Fluttershy exclaimed, placing a hoof comfortingly on my cheek.

Well, he might not kill you, Pinkie Pie tried instead. I mean, Fluttershy told me about how you two talked and she - you know, Fluttershy - seems okay-ish with this whole ‘experimenting on ponies’ thing. I mean, she hasn’t left , right? Although I suppose we can’t really leave…

You just have to talk honestly with Jack, Fluttershy said, ignoring Pinkie as the other apparition trailed off. I’m sure somebody like him would be more accepting of this part of you than I am, so when you explain to him why you do this, he won’t want to, w-well, k-kill you, the pegasus apparition finished uncomfortably.

Maybe… I replied, unconvinced. I was certain that Jack would have several follow-up questions after hearing my explanations. Some of which would involve the exact circumstances that led to me leaving Stable Eight. Four of the test subjects I had back in Stable Eight had died because of my experiments, I told Fluttershy and Pinkie, my ears dropping. As the two exchanged an uneasy glance, I continued: I’ve killed ponies… even though those four didn’t deserve to be called ponies, honestly. Regardless… once Jack learns this, he might not be as accepting as you think.

… then maybe you shouldn’t tell him that? Pinkie asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. As Fluttershy looked at her disapprovingly, she exclaimed: Whaaat? Applejack’s not here; besides, it’s not lying if she just doesn’t talk about it, right?

He will ask, I said before Fluttershy could reply. He will figure out that my experiments were the reason why I left my Stable. And Burst or Blast might have mentioned to him what I’ve told them when we met, about how many deaths I have caused. And I do not wish to lie to him.

The two apparitions exchanged a glance again. It’s not just that you do not wish to lie to him, isn’t it? Pinkie asked, a slight smirk appearing on her muzzle. You do not wish to hurt him, either, right? And by that, she added before I could frown and reply that I considered it to be obvious, I mean hurt him by further destroying whatever image of you he had and forcing him to kill you out of fear. Aaaand you don’t want to physically hurt him, too, which is why you’re not even considering fighting back.

Well, yes, I replied, sighing. I do not enjoy the thought of hurting somebody I’ve grown to care about.

If that’s the case, Fluttershy spoke up, looking at me hopefully, maybe you shouldn’t-

But I cut her off. Haven’t we talked about this already today, darling? I asked, deadpaning at her. Fluttershy’s apparition winced, then sighed as I continued. I am not going to stop. Jack will have to accept that this is part of who I am… or stop caring about me, if he does. Or kill me.

Oh please, he does care, Pinkie Pie snorted, rolling her eyes. Why do you think he was so upset about the whole “keeping Cutter chained in the basement” thing?

I suppose… I mused, not entirely convinced. I remained silent for a few more moments, just staring up in the cloud cover; an image of Goddess Luna watching over me appeared unbidden in my mind, of her extending her wings protectively around me as she gazed down lovingly at the scared albino unicorn. I smiled briefly, surprised at what my mind had conjured in an effort to find comfort, then sighed and closed my eyes. Worrying about it won’t change anything. I should remain optimistic until the time comes; after all, I wouldn’t have told Jack about Cutter if I wouldn’t have thought that there was a chance that he would accept this. Considering his stance on who deserves to be called a sapient being and what that entitles them to, he might even agree with my view. Regardless-

“Angel?”

The unexpected voice saying my name right beside me had surprised me so much that I actually jumped off the ground uttering a scared and very unlady-like yelp. Turning towards the source of it as I backed away, I realized that there was a sprite-bot hovering next to me.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Watcher said through the robot.

Quickly shaking off my fright, I beamed at the sprite-bot, happy to talk with Watcher. There’s my dragon, I thought before I could help myself, recalling with amusement Jack’s worries. “Don’t worry, darling, it’s my fault for getting so lost in my own thoughts. I’m very pleased to see you again.”

“Heh, likewise. Especially since, you know, the company I had left you with.”

“Ah, yes. As you can see, darling, I have survived that unpleasant encounter,” I told him, smirking. “Which I believe means that I have won this little bet of ours.”

“No it doesn’t,” Watcher replied, much to my confusion.

“Um, beg your pardon?” I asked, losing my composure.

“The bet was that your plan would succeed; I can even playback a recording if you want.”

“No, thank you sweetie, that won’t be necessary, I happen to recall our bet perfectly,” I replied, feeling a little annoyed by his comment.

“Yeah, so, I sent a new sprite-bot over to the Rock Farms as soon as I was able, and found bodies of three more raiders; one killed in particularly brutal fashion I might add. Now, stop me if I’m wrong, but I thought your plan involved getting them all trapped alive in the Stable, wasn’t it?”

I nodded with reluctance, already knowing what Watcher was getting at.

“So the presence of those three bodies means that something went wrong - as I said it would - and those three didn’t get trapped. And since I doubt you are capable of ripping out a pony’s ribcage, I figure that somepony had saved you. For which I am really happy about of course, but it means that neither of us won that bet.”

I stared at the sprite-bot for several seconds before sighing and looking away, up into the covered sky that obscured the moon. “Very well, let’s have it your way darling. After all, you are the one who’s missing out if I cannot meet you face to face.”

“Oh? How come?” Watcher asked; I got the impression that the mechanical voice sounded a little confused.

Smiling, I titled my head a little to look at the sprite-bot. “Why, isn’t it obvious, darling? You’ve saved my life with your warning and help; the very least I could do as a sign of gratitude would be to kiss you on the cheek,” I told him, squinting my eyelids seductively. I gave him a whole second to process my words before I frowned and added “And meeting you would allow me finally to learn what personal pronoun I should use when I’m thinking about you; honestly, it’s been really upsetting me that I might be using the wrong one this whole time!”

“Oh, um…” Watcher stammered, apparently a little put off-track. “I a- um, I’m a guy.”

“Oh, wonderful, that’s what I had initially assumed,” I replied, sighing with a relief.

“Oookay… um, and as for the whole ‘kiss on the cheek’ thing? Yeah, I don’t see it happening even if we would meet,” Watcher replied.

To that I rolled my eyes. “Oh, darling, that would be a strictly platonic kiss, your sexual orientation really shouldn’t-”

“What?!” Watcher interrupted me. “No! I didn’t mean… I meant that you wouldn’t wanna… Ugh!” the sprite-bot emitted a noise that sounded more like a growl. “Look, can we change the subject already?”

“Of course, darling,” I replied, more than a little surprised by his reaction. “Um, forgive me if I had offended you-”

“You didn’t offend me, you just... bemused me,” Watcher replied, sounding a little tired. “More importantly, could you tell me what had happened back there at the Rock Farms?”

I spent the next several minutes recounting the events that had transpired after the raiders had destroyed Watcher’s sprite-bot. I went into great details regarding the parts of my plan that Watcher had the most objections to, claiming that they were ‘stupid’, like the cardboard box. I was less eager to talk about what happened later on, how three raiders had managed to jump through the Stable door before it closed and chased after me; I decided to spare him the details of how Clawface had hit me. Watcher himself had seemed more interested about my savior.

“... so when Clawface had pulled away from me, I looked around, expecting actually to see you darling,” I continued my tale. “But instead I saw him, huge, covered by a robe with a hood slid down over his face-”

“Ah, the Hooded Figure,” Watcher exclaimed, interrupting him. “Yeah, now that makes sense.”

“You know him?” I asked, a little surprised.

“I am called Watcher for a reason you know,” Watcher replied, a brief chuckle escaping through the sprite-bot. “I had seen him from time to time, helping ponies out, though never staying long around them. For good reasons I suppose.”

My eyes widened hearing his comment. “Good reasons, you say?” I repeated slowly, curious just how much did he know.

“Yeah…” Watcher replied and trailed off. The sprite-bot hovered next to me fore several seconds in silence before he finally added “You know he’s a hellhound, huh?”

“Why, yes, I do, I noted his body’s posture and paid attention to the prints he left, then asked him,” I explained, then tilted my head curiously. “How do you-”

“I’ve seen him in a tougher fight a couple months back,” Watcher said before I could even finish my question. “He dealt with them rather quickly after he took off his robe; the raiders just ran away in panic after that,” he explained. “Didn’t even have to help him. I found it interesting that a hellhound was travelling around the Wasteland in disguise, but I hadn’t really had a chance to talk to him.”

My ear twitched slightly as I regarded the sprite-bot, intrigued by what Watcher said. How peculiar, I mused. He had already approached me several times now; how could he have not found any chance to approach Rexio, especially since he was always on his own?

“And, you know, was a bit worried that he would just trash the sprite-bot,” Watcher added with a chuckle, oblivious to my pondering. “So, did you two talk after he rescued you?”

“Why, of course we did, darling,” I replied, wondering why, if he was still interested by Rexio, he hadn’t approached him himself. “We’ve also talked later, after we returned to New Appleloosa. In fact-”

“Wait, hold on,” Watcher interrupted me, “you brought him here? I mean, don’t get me wrong, but most ponies-”

“Yes, I know, they would panic at the sight of a hellhound,” I snickered and rolled my eyes, interrupting Watcher in turn. “I’ve already been told as much. Rexio - which is his name, darling - remained hidden under his robe when we arrived, and hasn’t left Candi’s clinic since. He needed to be under medical observation after I healed the injury the Enclave pony had caused,” I explained.

The sprite-bot hovered next to me in silence for about three seconds. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘Enclave’?” Watcher finally asked. “The hell were they doing down there?!”

I quickly explained the reason behind their presence there as well as what happened afterwards, emphasizing just how irritated I was because of that encounter and the pegasus’s behaviour. When I finished, the sprite-bot emitted a strange noise, which only after a moment I realized was Watcher’s whistle.

“Wow, you sure have a knack for encountering unusual people in the Wasteland, huh?” he commented. “Raiders, hellhound and Enclave patrol, all right after the other.”

Unsure how to interpret it, I shrugged. “Perhaps, though I would need to go through more of such events before I would say whether I have a ‘knack’ for something or not. I will be sure to make notes during my future, shall we say, expeditions in the Wasteland, regarding the unusualness of the people I encounter.”

“Wait, you plan on going back out there?” Watcher asked. “I mean, no offense, you appear to be quite resourceful, even if those three raiders got away from your trap, but I fear a pony like you belongs in the - relative - safety of a town.”

“Your usage of the word ‘relative’ makes me feel so much safer, darling,” I commented, humming with amusement. “As for ‘going back out there’... it’s not that I plan to journey through the Wasteland again,” I said slowly, turning my gaze away from the sprite-bot as I considered my words. Once again, I found my gaze traveling upwards. “As a matter of fact, I would prefer to avoid leaving a town for the foreseeable future; travelling through on a train doesn’t count,” I quickly added, recalling that I would be leaving this town tomorrow. “However, there is always a possibility that circumstances would force me into the Wasteland again. And besides…” I trailed off, hesitating.

There was one additional thing that had bothered me about the events that had transpired on back then, other deaths of Burst and Blast. Well, maybe “bothered” wasn’t the right word to use, or “unsettled”; definitely not “disturbed”, either. “Intrigued” seemed to be closer to the emotion I was feeling, or “puzzled”.

“Back when I was facing those raiders,” I resumed slowly, “and the previous day in the Stable… I was scared, yes, very, especially when Clawface and the other two jumped out of the Stable Eleven. But at the same time… a part of me was enjoying it,” I confessed. “When I commanded their attention and manipulated them into acting just the way I planned, I felt…” I paused briefly, looking down at my forehooves as I raised them before me as I simply said “powerful. And when they chased me… well, I didn’t feel powerful, obviously,” I said, rolling my eyes as I brought my hooves down and resumed looking at the clouds. “I don’t think I felt anything other than fear; I was even having problems coming up with the plan of what to do about them because of my fear. But afterwards, when I thought back to it, I realized that at the same time I felt alive. Facing that imminent danger had made me feel very alive, more so than I’ve felt throughout most of my life. And although it was a horrible experience… a part of me is looking forward to feeling like that again, and it puzzles me,” I admitted, glad for the opportunity to voice my worries.

“A-huh,” Watcher hummed slowly, clearly processing what I have told him. “Well, yeah, I guess feeling like that would have that effect on everypony. And a brush with death like that can have all sorts of effects on ponies. Especially if they’ve spent their entire life in the safety of a Stable and now they were forced into what this world has become. Perhaps... ” Watcher hesitated briefly, then continued, “perhaps you wouldn’t be so bothered by how you’re feeling and would have an easier time settling in the Wasteland’s reality if you’d discover your virtue?”

I blinked and turned to the sprite-bot. “My virtue?” I repeated, confused.

“Yep. Your virtue. I believe that everybody exemplifies some virtue. They are what allows ponies to resist the harshness of the Wasteland. Living in this world, you will bear witness to many terrible things; perhaps, in order to survive, you will even be forced to do terrible things. The Wasteland corrupts ponies like this, taking away from them bit by bit. You’ve seen the ponies who had succumbed to the Wasteland,” Watcher added. “The raiders who attacked you are those ponies. You’d be amazed to find out just how many became like them. But if you find your virtue and live by it, you will find your place in this world and will remain you.”

Tilting my head, I contemplated his words. “Interesting… I’ve always lived by my morals,” I said thoughtfully, “and I always believed that if I would stop adhering to them I would no longer be Angel. But living by your virtue? That’s a new concept to me. What would even be my virtue?” I asked, genuinely curious about it.

“I wouldn't know, not after knowing you for such a short time,” Watcher replied. “I’m afraid that’s something you’d have to figure out on your own. But when you do, let me know; you could say I’ve made a hobby of learning ponies’ virtues.”

“... What a peculiar hobby you have, darling,” I commented, a little surprised. “Though I suppose everybody needs something to pass their time. Very well darling, I will tell you what my virtue is when I realize it,” I told him; considering the help he had given me, it was the least I could do for him. I turned my gaze away up in the direction of the hidden moon again, wondering just what could be my virtue, but I paused as I realized that that I had to make something clear for Watcher. “You have misunderstood me, by the way,” I told him, glancing at the sprite-bot.

“Misunderstood?” Watcher repeated.

“I am not ‘bothered’ by how I feel about that whole confrontation, as you have assumed; I am merely puzzled,” I corrected him. “I am not as much as worried about the way I feel as I am intrigued. You might say that being excited by things like that are the signs that the Wasteland had begun corrupting me, but honestly? It doesn’t feel like this to me. Indeed, rather, ever since I’ve stepped out of my Stable… I’ve felt as if I am becoming more of myself,” I said, a smile spreading slowly on my muzzle as I put into words how I’ve felt about my experience in the Wasteland so far.

I remained like that, a smile on my muzzle and eyes on the clouds above, for several moments. I broke free of my reverie when I realized that Watcher hadn’t said a word. I glanced at the sprite-bot, curious what the pony on the other side was thinking about.

“Angel?” he finally said, before I could ask him why was he was silent.

“Yes darling?”

“... Please find you virtue,” Watcher said, after hesitating for a second.

My brow furrowed, confused by his request, as well as the way he was acting. This change in his behaviour could have only be caused by what I’ve told him, but why? “Why are you asking that of me?”

“Because…” Watcher began, again hesitating. “... you remind me of a pony I met a long time ago. She… she never found her virtue, and she…” Again he paused, this time for longer. Finally, a deep sight could be heard through sprite-bot and Watcher said “I would rather not see the history repeat itself, and I don’t want you to end up like her.”

My confusion had only increased after hearing his reply, as did my curiosity. Already I was opening my mouth to ask him questions, about who this pony I reminded him of was and what had happened to her, but before I could as much utter a sound the sprite-bot had suddenly erupted with the noises of the song they normally transmitted.

All I could do was watch with bemusement as it flew away.

Watcher’s very cryptic explanation (Or warning, I suppose.) had both unsettled me and annoyed me. Would it had really been a problem for him to explain himself properly? What had that pony who never found her virtue done that had been so terrible? I didn’t even know what exactly had reminded Watcher of her; it had to be what I said about becoming more of myself, but how could that be a bad thing?

Well, you do experiment on ponies, Pinkie pointed out.

Only on those who don’t deserve to be called sapient beings, I countered, annoyed that this was being dragged into this conversation. I hardly doubt that anybody is going to miss raiders and slavers and others like them.

The two apparitions had both sighed and didn’t pursue the topic. I tried to think about what could have alarmed Watcher (as I certainly did not mention to him about my experiments), but I realized that without knowing who was this pony were and what had she done I wouldn’t be able to figure it out. So instead I tried to think about what Watcher had asked of me.

My virtue.

What could my virtue be? Intelligence maybe? Could pursuit of medical knowledge be considered a virtue? Curiosity?

I flicked my tail in irritation as I reached Ditzy’s shop; I’ve been mulling those questions in my head throughout most of the way there, and didn’t come up with any answers. Maybe I should ask Ditzy if she doesn’t happen to have some books about self-realization in her shop? I pondered as I entered, putting an end to my contemplations as I crossed the threshold; I didn’t want to think about it now, or about Watcher’s sudden worry, about who that pony could have been, or even about Jack.

I just wanted to spend time with Ditzy.

The adorable ghoul had already noticed me, and was approaching with a smile.

“Hello darling,” I greeted her as she hugged me, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m sorry for being a bit late. I ran into Jack - finally, I might add - and had a little talk with him,” I said as Ditzy covered her muzzle in amusement due to my remark. “Afterwards, I had a few things to think about, so I took a walk around the town.”

Ditzy shrugged, as if saying that she didn’t mind, then flew back to her counter, picking something up from it before returning to me. It turned out to be my Stable barding, which she promptly gave to me, along with a note.

Here you go, was written on it. I weaved protective lining into it, it will make your barding more resistant to magical energy weapons and radiation.

“Really? That’s impressive, darling,” I told her, lifting the barding up and looking it over. There was little difference I could spot on it, besides that it was slightly heavier now. I turned back to Ditzy and smiled. “Thank you very much.”

She waved her hoof, as if saying that it was nothing, then flew to her counter again, this time bringing back a small parcel, with another note.

And here are are the things you’ve asked about yesterday, the note said. Along with…

I looked at the note, puzzled by the ending, before turning to Ditzy and realizing that she held in her mouth a copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide.

“Oh, thank you so much darling!” I exclaimed happily, pleased to receive both my ‘order’ and the book. “How much for the- Oh, don’t give me that, darling,” I told her, almost sternly, as she began to shake her head. “I am paying for your merchandise and services and that’s that.”

Although Ditzy had tried to continue stubbornly refuse payment, after several more moments I managed to convince her to stop and give me the price. And then give me a bigger one when she scribbled down a sum that was clearly insufficient.

“Pleasure doing business with you, darling,” I told her jokingly when we’ve finally agreed on a price and I handed over to her the bottle caps. “Now…” I purred, leaning closer to her.

Before I could continue, Ditzy held up her hoof, stopping me. I did as she asked, giving her a confused look as she smiled sheepishly and returned once again to her counter, this time bringing only notes.

Before we go eat supper, I wanted to talk, the first one began. I think it would be better if we’d become just friends.

I blinked in surprise, then looked at Ditzy. The ghoul in turn quickly passed me the next note.

Don’t get me wrong, Angel, I really like you, and had a real fun with you. I enjoyed the time we spent together. And even if I don’t mind that I am a ghoul, it was amazing to meet somepony who doesn’t care about it the slightest (aside from wanting to cut me open and examine me).

I gave the ghoul an annoyed look as I finished reading that note. The ghoul chuckled and passed me another one.

You’ve made me feel like I hadn’t felt in a long, long time, and I am grateful for that. But even though I’ve enjoyed your “displays of affection”, I’ve found out that I still prefer stallions. Well, mostly. Sorry.

“Ditzy,” I immediately began as I read the word ‘sorry’, “you have nothing to apologize for.”

The ghoul smiled, appearing a little embarrassed, and passed me the next note.

By “mostly”, I mean that while being with a mare is fun, I would prefer to settle down with a stallion. And considering my age, I should look for somepony to settle down with, and besides that there is also the issue of you living in a different town. Ditzy passed me the final note. I believe that because of that it would be better for both of us to look for ponies in our hometowns, rather than being in a long-distance relationship. Trust me, even before the war they hardly ever worked. I hope I haven't hurt your feelings.

“Of course you haven’t, darling,” I told her, smiling at her pleasantly. Ditzy uttered a small sigh of relief as I continued. “I don’t care about things like problems with long-distance relationships, but if you would prefer for us to just be friends, especially because of the first reason, I really don’t mind. In fact…” I trailed off, hesitating. As Ditzy gave me a quizzical look, I took a deep breath and continued: “In fact, darling, considering what you wrote about still preferring stallions, I worry that I owe you an apology. It was not my intention to seduce you into doing things you wouldn’t want-”

I trailed off as she began to violently shake her head, then looked through her notes until she found the one which said about how much she had enjoyed our time together and pointed at it for me, nodding her head as if to show that she really meant it.

I giggled, relieved by her reaction. “I’m happy that’s not the case. But you see, it’s just… It’s just that I don’t usually act like that. I don’t try to seduce ponies into making love to them. I am really, honestly satisfied to be just your friend if that’s what you want, and I should have been back when we first met instead of prompting you to… well, experiment. I suppose my behaviour was caused by all the recent changes in my life, as well as the fact that…” I trailed off again, my ears dropping as I hesitated. “That it’s been a while,” I finished, unable to keep sadness out of my voice.

Ditzy frowned in confusion, then immediately her expression softened as she looked around for something to write on the back of one of her notes. After finding a pencil, she quickly scribbled a message, then gazed at me sympathetically with her good eye as she passed me the note saying: What happened? Wanna talk about it?

I chuckled despite myself. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I felt like I did owe Ditzy more of an explanation.

“I’ve told you before, I had only two lovers in Stable Eight,” I began. “The first one… he betrayed me, a good few years ago already. And the second one, she…” I hesitated again, bit my lip and turned my head away, unable to look Ditzy in the eyes. “She died.”

LIAR!!!

I winced as the thought exploded in my head like a thunder, causing both Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie to cover their ears, then look at me with confusion and worry. I turned away from them as well (as best as I could), unable to deal with their gazes.

A gentle touch against my coat caused me to look back at Ditzy. The pegasus had crossed the distance between us and was now right beside me. She didn’t need a note; “I’m sorry for your loss,” was written all over her face.

I smiled at her. “It’s alright. Well, no, it isn’t,” I corrected myself, uttering a brief, devoid of humor chuckle, “but I’ve had a lot of time to process what had happened.”

Ditzy gave me an unconvinced look, but eventually she smiled and simply hugged me. I hugged my friend back, glad for her company and that she didn’t press for details. When we separated, Ditzy trotted back to her counter, motioning for me to follow her. I went after her, levitating my barding, parcel and new book and placing it on the counter, while the pegasus had picked another note that she hadn’t taken earlier.

Last night?

I looked at Ditzy quizzically after reading the short note, then quickly realized what she meant when I saw her expression. I uttered a short giggle before replying. “Honestly, darling, I think right now I would much rather enjoy a supper and conversation with my friend.” Smirking, I winked and added “Ask me again in an hour.”

Footnote: Level Up!
New perk: Blessed by Luna -- You are a creature of the night, blessed by Princess Luna herself! You gain +2 Intelligence and +2 Perception during the night. These bonuses can temporarily raise your Intelligence and Perception above 10. This perk does not stack with the Touched By Luna trait.
Quest perk: Hellhound Physiology -- You have learned about hellhounds' physiology, as well as how to to exploit their specific weaknesses, and gain a +5 healing when treating one and a +5 damage bonus when attacking one (you can also use your knowledge regarding hellhounds’ physiology for… other purposes).

Author's Notes:

Damn it took forever to finish this one... thanks to TimePrincess, Zaleros, Sage Probo and (a new comer) Doomande for their great work on proofreading/editing^^ And of course, special thanks for Kkat for creating Fallout Equestria, Somber for creating Project Horizons (as few things from his amazing story were mentioned), and all the others wonderful authors of stories set in this universe