.:+:.

The Split off the FillyDelphia highway.

After five good days of walking along the Highway, fighting off raiders we came across, and holding up at night- up high and out of the way of DireWolves, we had finally reached the point along the Highway that split off into four different directions, one- the way we had come, toward Manehatten. Two, straight ahead toward the east- the split Whiskey had told me about. Three, to the left that headed up past New Appaloosa and all the way up toward CanterLot. And four, to the right and straight into Filly’.

We would be going straight, the best shot (according to Whiskey) to get the closest to Arabino without getting killed. As the days had gone by and we had grown closer and closer to this point, raiders hadn’t been very common along the Highway, however the presence of DireWolves had grown more frequent. Every night the sounds of their howls and snarls woke me from a very disturbed sleep, I could only remember the searing pain in my head when they had all howled in unison- when I was fairly certain my head was going to split apart at the horrible noise.

One night as Whiskey and I lay out upon the top of a downed Sky-Carriage (RoseLuck’s Special Delivery Flowers!) and chowed down on some two-century old carrot cakes, I asked him about such an instance as the sound of the creatures howls rose up into the night, seemingly all around the base of the old Highway.

“I felt like my head was gonna burst.” I said softly in between a mouthful of the crusty cake- that was surprisingly really good. “So why are these howls… normal?” I asked and Whiskey sighed.

“What ya heard must o’ been the Death Howls.” He mumbled, “It’s a mechanism that suppos’ ta hinder fleeing prey, they don’ sound like tha’ all the time though. They do howl normal like.” Death Howls huh? Why did everything in the WasteLand have to revolve around Death, Pain and Decay?

Fortunately enough, I hadn’t been hit with a ‘Black-Out’ session from my short-circuiting brain since the ‘Scarlet’ vision I had been through the first time. I had wisely refrained from thinking too much into things I didn’t have a clue about, and the plan had worked so far.

Whiskey didn’t even pause as we reached the four way convergence, which was clustered with a multitude of crashed wagons and carriages, littered to the brim with blackened skeletal remains of so many ponies I couldn’t even begin to guess how many there were. I carefully stepped around the rubble and bones, only casting small flicking glances at them as I continued to follow Whiskey forward- the copper buck seemingly unaware of anything around him, but the path ahead. The tip of my hoof bumped against the skull of a pony that had spilled from a wagon and I froze, feeling a sinking feeling inside at the unwanted contact. Perhaps it was squeamish of me, but I unfolded my wings and kicked off gently, the air from my wing-pumps sending up dust and shifting the bones slightly as I floated over them.

I cast a look up at the gray sky, knowing it was growing darker with the tell-tale sign that night was starting to fall. We would need to stop and find a place to stop for the night, I thought about telling this to my companion, but I stopped myself, knowing it was useless- because quite frankly, he was better at this whole survival in the Wastes thing than I was.

I flipped the radio on my PipBuck on a moment, careful to keep the volume low, but loud enough I could hear it as I floated over the piles of rubble, wagons, assorted clothes and luggage, and of course; the bones.

“…… And there’s Sapphire Shores with her glorious song, ‘Queen Bee’! Now on to some news, as ever; Red-Eye’s Slavers are still growing out in Fillydelphia, there are increased reports of Slavers moving out north and east, taking any ponies they see fit for use as Slaves. To anypony who doesn’t want to spend the rest of their lives in chains, I’d steer clear. The Slayer’s seemed to have taken one last good stand at securing PonyVille- and unfortunately have been pushed back toward the edge of WhiteTail Wood. Details on this failed siege are still fuzzy, good Old DJ still isn’t sure if they were defeated by the efforts of the Raiders, or if they were taken out by a band of the Pures who’ve strayed too far from the Solitian.” Yet another report on the Slayers, and this time there was something concerning the Pures too. “That former seems more likely, but out here in the WasteLand, one can never be too sure. So as a safety precaution, folks better steer clear from PonyVille a little more than usual. Let’s give the Slayers a little room to continue what they’re doing, hopefully they’ll have the situation under control soon. Hooves crossed!”

The unexpected snort of disgust and contempt from Whiskey snapped my head up toward him, completely caught off-guard by the sound. “Those damn idiots ain’t got no chance ta takin’ back PonyVille.” He muttered under his breath without looking back at more, or even seemingly aware of my presence as he spit at the story he had heard channel from the speaker on my PipBuck. “Nah unless Merger’s got some unholy amoun’ o’ dynamite he can drop on the place. An’ even then ya need some wings ta do it, a whole-ton o’ wings!” He spit the words out as if they held a bad taste in his mouth, his tone low and exceptionally unhappy and angry…. Wow, so much hatred in all of that…. Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Whiskey speak like that about anything other than the Enclave! “Not even that good fer nothing little…. Emotionless….. freakin.... little…….. mare got that…. Strength….” He started grumbling under his breath so much I couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Good to see you’re giving them the benefit of the doubt.” I said dryly, letting the last few words of DJPON3 fade into the background. “At least they’re trying to do something about the raiders.” I sniffed, “No more than you at any rate.”

“Oh don’ go givin’ me that load of Brahmin-shit!” Whiskey snapped back suddenly, his voice cold and surprisingly angry, I hadn’t been expecting that much a rebuke.

“They’re taking out the ponies who kill other ponies!” I snapped back, feeling my own anger rise. “They’re doing something good, they’re trying to get rid of a problem and they sure as hell deserve more respect than you give them! They’re doing it for free!!” Thinking on it now, this was sort of a 180 flip from when I had admonished the doings of Mercenaries. I had said I didn’t like them, and even now that remained true. I didn’t like Mercenaries, and that may be because Whiskey was the only one I had met and he was still at Level 10 Hatred status for me. But even then I couldn’t ignore what the Slayers were doing, they were trying to rid the WasteLand of what I had been told was a huge center for Raider activity. Doing so would tremendously help the situation here, and possibly save the lives of hundreds of ponies who may become victims, or who were already victims. They were doing something, and in my eyes- Whiskey wasn’t doing anything.

Whiskey had skill, I had already seen that, and sure; he had been taking care of the Raiders around BaleFire. But was that really enough? No, it wasn’t. And here he was, wasting all his time and skill on traveling to an old, out of the way town for his own purposes. In this, I was a strong believer. Whiskey could be doing so much better…… and then the thought struck me.

Couldn’t I be doing something better? To try and make this world better? Wasn’t I being hypocritical?

I really was, because a very large part of me had only agreed to come along with him, for my own gain. Because I wanted to know why I had been in Arabino, I wanted to know who I really was, I wanted to learn all I could from Whiskey about the Wastes, and I wanted the Sonic Emitter back. I was doing this because of the things I wanted….. not because I was trying to help anypony. But it was like I could go back on the deal now, I had to see this through.

I……. I really was a hypocrite, and for a small moment I felt a little bad for snapping at him, that feeling didn’t last long though.

“For free?” Whiskey said suddenly, coming to an abrupt halt as the clopping of his hooves upon the asphalt ceased. I hovered stationary in the air just behind him, hooves crossed over my chest at the tone of disbelief in his voice.

And then he started laughing, laughing. Laughing so hard that he was having a hard time standing up, apparently finding some hidden joke in what I said that I wasn’t able to understand. “What the hell is so funny?!” I snapped,

“Ya honestly… believe tha’ the Slayers… ‘re trying ta take PonyVille… fer FREE?! HAHA!!!!” He gasped the words out as best he could before hitting the road, and falling half-way on a pile of old clothes, unable to support himself any longer in the fit of his laughter, he almost sounded…… crazy. My hooves fell from crossing my chest, only to hang limply under me as I stared, dumbfounded at the hysterical buck on the road. I found myself wondering about his sanity just then, because he was literally probably the only pony that could confuse me this much. “Ah just…. Haha…… how coul’ ya…… oh, haha!!!!” He gasped, tears filling his teal eyes. My ears pinned back against my head, becoming irritated with the development. What the hell was so funny anyway?! What was it about what I said that had made him like this?!

“WHAT’S THE JOKE?!?!?!?!?” I demanded, my voice ringing out around the highway, biting at the cooling air. He only continued to laugh, not concerned with my rising anger.

‘You know Flashy, I’m starting to think this pony is really crazy!’ The Little Me popped in suddenly, making me falter a little in surprise- but I agreed with what she said, still, I quickly slammed my hooves down on her head and told her to shut her trap, I was too busy being angry at Whiskey to find the time to listen to her comments for very long.

“WHISKEY!!!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, “TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY?!?!?!”

“The… the idea tha’… tha’ the Slayers ‘re… workin’ fer free!” He gasped out, holding his stomach and lying on his back, he cracked a tear-filled eye open to look at me hovering above him. “.. Ah mean, there is absolutely…. No damn way that’s even ah… possibility..!!” He wiped the tears from his eyes, finally able to quiet his laughter a little. “Look Darlin’, the Slayers don’ do nothin’ fer free! Suggestin’ such a thang, it’s jus’ too damn ridiculous!” He broke out laughing again and I scowled, still not amused. I didn’t think it even remotely funny- the notion that the Slayers would be trying to take PonyVille back for free. Couldn’t any damn pony out here do something just out of the goodness of their hearts?! Was that too much to ask for!?!?!!?

“GRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!” I yelled my frustration out into the cool air, a billow of steam blew out around my mouth as the temperature dropped even lower. I threw my muzzle up toward the deep dark sky and pulled at my mane with my hooves. I hate this! I hate him!!! In what world would that even be funny?! In what world would nopony try and take out blood-thirsty raiders, just because they could?!

You know what world!!??? THIS ONE!!!!! AND I HATE THAT!!!!

I yelled some more, yelling made me feel better and Whiskey didn’t seem to care, he was still trying to stop his hysterical laughter.

AAAAAAARRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

My enraged yelling ceased the same moment Whiskey’s laughter died on his lips. Both our heads snapped left and right, because that was the sound both us knew the moment it sounded- and I suddenly wished I hadn’t been yelling so much, and instead paid attention to the fact that night had most definitely fallen, and we were out in the open. And now, I most definitely knew that we were in trouble.

How stupid do I have to be? Stupid enough to yell at the top of my lungs, so close to night, and inside DireWolf territory- all until we were surrounded? My E.F.S. lit up with red, and I felt a sense of dread creep up inside me, the vision of flashing teeth and glowing green claws raced across my vision.

“Shit.” Whiskey muttered, immediately on his hooves and kicking to reload his Assault Rifles, pulling his bandana over his muzzle and tipping his hat over his eyes. I shouldered my shotgun off my back and glanced out into the dark warily, letting my vision adjust as best it could to the gloom.

“You said DireWolves don’t come up on the Highway, right?” I asked with a look at my companion, who had nimbly jumped on top of a carriage near the edge of the raised road.

“Nope.” He replied, I breathed a small sigh of relief. “Bu’, now they know where we are. An’ ya can bet yer ass they’ll make their way up ‘ere.” Well SHIT!

“… Way to kill my hopes…” I grumbled.

“Ah’m jus’ being truthful.” He replied instantly, and I shook my head. Yeah yeah… Honesty’s a Virtue and all, right? Whatever…

“Maybe we should move?” I suggested, and Whiskey nodded slightly.

“Probably a goo’ idea.” He agreed, taking off in the direction of Arabino- you know, deeper in DireWolf infested territory!!!

‘It’s confirmed, he is crazy.’ The Little Me said in a bored tone, tracing her hoof around the edge of a wine glass filled with some light brown drink- wait, where’d she even get that? And what the hell was it?!

ARRROOOOOOOO!!!

OK! No time to think about that, more flying less thinking! We all know where thinking got me last time- that’s right, in a serious Black-Out Episode! But let’s look on the bright side; even though we were going deeper into DireWolf No-Pony land, at least they were using their Death Howls quite yet! If they were, well…. We’d be even more fucked than we were right now!

Whiskey kept up the pace as he continued to race in and out of the wagons and what-not, where he couldn’t slip past on the road, he jumped over or slid under with acrobat skill that I had seen only two times up until now- seriously, how could anypony move like that with so much stuff on their back? I doubted I would ever know. But even so, I stayed just above him, careful not to go too far as he maneuvered every which way where I only needed to fly straight. I winced each time his hooves hit the asphalt, the noise seemed unnaturally loud out here with the danger at hoof. I seriously wanted to pick him up and fly with him- if only to get rid of the noise. The red blips on my E.F.S. did not go away as we continued to run, and I was painfully aware of the sound of heavy claws tearing out at the concrete supports holding the highway up. I could only imagine what they were doing with those claws of theirs- and speaking of claws, I could see the radioactive green glow of those very claws lighting up the darkness for miles! Oh we were soooooooo screwed!!

“What’s the plan?” I asked once the highway opened up and there weren’t as many carriages for the buck below me to try and dodge. “Just keep running? I really don’t think that’s gonna keep us alive for long,” I cast a quick glance sideways. “Not with how many of them there are…”

“Runnin’s the only thang we got righ’ now.” Whiskey huffed out dryly. “Maybe with a few goo’ shots o’ my Sniper, Ah can take outa few. Yer shotgun isn’t really much help, hides too thick and… no, we can’t keep runnin’ forever.” He relented,

“Sooo…. What’s our best bet?” I asked, not quite sure if I really wanted an answer.

“Our best be’, that’ll be ta hold ou’ till mornin’.” Whiskey panted and I sighed, yeah… the morning that was hours away. We couldn’t keep running for the entirety of that time either. “Bu’, even then there ain’t no guarantee they’ll stop chasin’ us when mornin’ comes.” He added in as an afterthought, an afterthought that didn’t help to lighten my mood.

“Well great.” I muttered, what could make this any worse?

Ahead of us, a whole section of the highway suddenly crumbled and fell toward the ground in an array of snarls and hell-bent howls, as the sound of radioactive claws sliced through concrete supports underneath us rose up in the night air. The highway swayed and shook with a great moan, Whiskey tried to skid to a stop before he went over the edge of the now destroyed highway.

Oh sweet Goddesses, you just loved to prove me wrong, now didn’t you?

I dove forward and grasped the back of his trench coat in my teeth, pumping my wings furiously to drag us back away from the edge as Whiskey dangled over it. I looked down, and saw the swarming pack of DireWolves clawing at the destroyed pile of rubble to reach us, their claws clashing with the darkness, their breath billowing out in front of them in the sudden cold of the night. I beat my wings harder, feeling our momentum shift back to the highway- I managed to pull Whiskey back just in time to save him from getting impaled by a tail from one of the closer DireWolves that had managed to jump up toward us.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Whiskey’s Battle-Saddle blared to life as he fired the shots into the face of the offending DireWolf, the massive creature fell back down the mountain of road with a howl, only to be replaced by the next approaching beasts. I let go of Whiskey’s coat and pumped up to hover again, earning a very small hurried ‘thanks’ from the copper buck as he jumped backward to put distance between himself and the edge of the ruined highway. So now what was the plan? The DireWolves had a great way up onto the highway now that they had collapsed a part of it, the only option was to run back the way we had come- Whiskey thought as much too. “Look alive Darlin’!” He called up to me and charged off back the way we had come, just as the first three DireWolves made it over the edge and onto the Highway.

I pushed through the cold air in a burst of speed and flipped so my back faced the ground and leveled my Shotgun between my hooves, kicking up S.A.T.S. and taking aim. Two shots into the face of the first DireWolf after us, and both hit. Black blood welled up from the tears across the creature's face, and the eyes blazed a furious yellow but it kept coming- OK! My shotgun shots were not enough to kill the damn thing even if I shot it in the face, great to know!

I flapped my left wings and rolled over to fly on normally, having come level with the still galloping form of Whiskey below me. “Ah told ya yer shotgun weren’t gonna do shit, didn’t Ah?” He called up and I scowled.

“Oh shut up! I had to try!” I snapped, “It’s not like you can shoot and run all at once now can ya?!” I challenged and was promptly proven very wrong. With a quick click, the rifles on Whiskey’s Battle-Saddle flipped around to face the DireWolves on our tail and he bit down on the trigger to open fire.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Fine, Whiskey could shoot while he was running, and OK…. Maybe his aim wasn’t horrible while doing so, he did manage to shoot the legs from one of the creatures out from under it. He even clipped another one, but it only made it madder. I looked back ahead, feeling rather useless at the moment. The cold air ran under my wings and made me shiver, and I blinked. When did it get so cold anyway? And then the Highway collapsed in front of us again, yes AGAIN. And this time it collapsed right under us, and I saw Whiskey start to fall- right into the horde of DireWolves waiting for him with open jaws. His hooves struggled for hold on the crumbling asphalt and concrete under him as he desperately tried to jump from one slab to one higher up- and he would have made it too, if two stronger-than-steel tails didn’t ram right through the slab and destroy it.

I angled down and fell through the cold air at an unreal rate, moving through the falling rubble with ease, hooves stretched out toward Whiskey, my fur tingled, especially around my hooves but I didn’t think on it. I wrapped my hooves around his torso and pumped down, hard.

Well shit! I was right, he was carrying so much he weighed a TON! My wings ached with the effort of pulling him up, and I beat them faster, harder, putting all my effort forward to get us back up- the cold air wasn’t helping that either, it was much easier to fly in warm air than cold.

TICK! TICK! TICK! TICK!!

The radiation meter on my PipBuck raged at me and for a split moment we were tugged down but immediately let go, I hissed as razor sharp claws grazed my back leg, easily drawing blood but fortunately doing no more than one cut as I made it into the air with Whiskey in my hooves, leaving the leaping DireWolf that grazed me to fall back onto the pile of rubble. I let out a huff at the effort of keeping us both aloft, feeling panic and adrenaline pump through my body slowly, making it just a little easier to hold him.

Maybe I overjudged my ability to carry him, he was really heavy!

Whiskey’s torn and tattered black cowpony hat fell from his head, floating down toward the mountain of destroyed highway in the cold night air.
The feel of my blood dripping down my leg and into the air made a shiver run down my spine, I spared a glance down at Whiskey, noticing he hadn’t said anything since I picked him up.

My eyes went wide, because even in the dark I could see the glistening scarlet liquid welling up under the copper bucks barding, right over his flank where his ribs were and he bit down on his tongue to keep himself silent. That blood fell into the air in a constant drip, earning feverish howls and barks from the DireWolves below as they scented it, and even licked it up off the rubble pile where the drops fell. I quickly realized what that jerk had been, the DireWolf that had scratched me must have dug his claws into Whiskey before I got us out of reach.

“Whiskey!” I gasped, feeling the warm, thick substance wash over my hooves as I continued to hold on to him. He didn’t take the time to answer me, but I figured he was in too much pain to even hear me. I frowned, ears pressing against my head- I was too slow, I was too weak. I hadn’t been strong enough nor fast enough to get us into the air in time to avoid that happening. I pumped my wings some more to get us a bit higher, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, the Goddesses would take pity on me and prevent the DireWolves from letting forth that orchestra of howls that had made it so impossible to fly back in Arabino. It was hard enough holding on to the weight of Whiskey and keeping us up, I wouldn’t have chance to keep us here if the Death Howls started.

Celestia? Luna? Wanna give me a break? Pretty please?

I felt Whiskey shift under my hold and looked down to see him twist (painfully I might add) and grab something in his teeth from one of his saddle bags. He looked so different without his hat on…. Not the thing to think about right now!

His head dropped from his bag and I caught a glimpse of silver, I narrowed my eyes. “What in the hell are you-?” I asked, but then he dropped whatever he had been holding and spit something else out to the side- I perceived the glitter of a pin in the air before it was lost to my sight.

“Better….. Tch….. fly, Darlin’.” Whiskey croaked, and I faltered, my eyes straining to follow the silver object he had let drop just below us, it looked like….. an apple? But why would he throw an apple at the DireWolves? I didn’t get the feeling they were vegetarian.

“What was that?” I asked, “Did you just throw an apple at them?”

My Earth Pony companion’s body convulsed in my hold, and I heard a painful retch as his mouth parted to let loose a flurry of blood into the air, my heart dropped into my stomach at the sight. “Fly… Damn it!” He ordered in a low voice and this time I didn’t hesitate, but took off with him through the air at a rate I wouldn’t have thought possible for carrying him and all the weight that came with him.

Several of the DireWolves took off in our direction once they saw that we were moving, several unintelligible yet highly intelligent snarls and barks were thrown out- and I was hit with the feeling that they were talking to each other again. “Weren’t no apple…” Whiskey hissed, “It’s a Metal Apple… Tch… a High-powered Shrapnel Grenade…. That Ah built myself…” His head dropped a little, “….Migh’ slow ‘um down…” Great! “….or make ‘um angry…” Damn you stupid, honest Whiskey.

BA-BOOM! TIC TIC TIC TIC TIC!!!

Whiskey’s ‘Shrapnel Apple’ went off with a loud boom, accompanied by the sound of metal pieces hitting the concrete and asphalt of the mountain of rubble at high speeds. The pained howls of hit DireWolves rung on the night air, I didn’t take the chance to glance backward at what happened, but I figured that it hurt if you got hit- not only by the explosion but by the shrapnel as well. Ingenious, I’ll admit- but probably better suited for fighting unarmored ponies, not thick-hided DireWolves.

AAAARRRRWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

And now’s the point where Luna and Celestia say fuck you! Damn it.

My head seared with pain, my vision swam, my ears rung, I felt tears way too thick to simply be salty-liquid drip from my eyes, my stomach flipped- Woo! Here’s to feeling off-balanced again! To feeling like my heads gonna split in two! Don’t I just love this? Who doesn’t love that beautiful concert of those lovely DireWolf howls, the orchestra of gorgeous vocals that were simply to die for?

‘Love the use of words, Flashy!’ The Little Me grinned and took a swig of that same light brown drink she had had before. She waved a wing at me, ‘But maybe less talk and more fly?’ She suggested, a good suggestion, if I was able to pull it off.

Whiskey and I dropped a few feet in the air, before I struggled to regain control of my wings. Whiskey wasn’t squirming as much as I thought he would at the noise, I wondered why he was so still………. The feeling of unexpected fear flashed through me, thinking he might be dead. Had he really lost that much blood? I’ll admit, my legs were drenched with the liquid…… Oh shit!

‘You’ve got your name for a reason.’ The Little Me continued as I dropped another few feet, getting increasingly close to the DireWolves that had jumped the gap of the Highway to continue after us on higher ground. ‘You’ve got your Cutie Mark for a reason.’ She tapped a hoof to hers, which was identical to mine only…… it looked a little off. ‘Sure you don’t remember it and all, and we don’t want to go thinking about it now- wouldn’t be too fun to black out again, hmm?’ Not at all no, not with Whiskey in my hooves, not with an entire pack of DireWolves below us, not in mid-air…

AAAARRRRRWWWWOOOOO!!!

I dropped another foot, my wings beating madly, my breath billowing out in front of me as I panted with the effort of flying through the noise, my bloody tears staining my face and silver coat.

‘But, you got it in you Flashy. You did it before, you can do it now. Don’t matter if you got big, old, heavy Whiskey in your hooves- you still got the stuff.’ She smirked at me, taking the wine glass of brown in her hooves and leaning back. She held the glass out to me, as if in a toast

‘You’ve still got the speed… the speed of a lightning bolt.’

Then there it was again, the same tingling in my hooves I had felt for only a few moments when I dove to catch Whiskey. It spread up from my hooves, through my coat, into my chest, tingling through my mane and tail and into my wings. It was faint, like a small prickle… it was familiar.

I cast my wings down in a powerful stroke, catching the cold air under my wings and propelling Whiskey and I forward in a sudden, powerful, expertly exerted burst of speed. A similar burst of speed to the one I had been granted as I high-tailed it out of Arabino, a burst of speed that was unnaturally unhindered by the extra weight provided by Whiskey, I figured it was adrenaline making it possible- he really was heavy, had it been anything other than a life threatening situation, I don’t think I could have managed to carry him like this.

Before I knew it, we were soaring through the night swiftly, the chilly air making my eyes water from the wind but I pressed on. The faster I managed to go, the farther I drew away from the pack, and the farther I was from the Death Howls- the less they affected me. I gained a little height, I couldn’t get myself up too high or even go as fast as I had been when leaving Arabino, now then I held on to Whiskey…

Speaking of Whiskey, my hold around him loosened as my hooves slipped on the blood welling from his flank, I wrapped my hooves around his torso more firmly- earning a small grunt of pain at the action from the buck. A small flare of relief washed over me, because at least he was alive. I pumped my wings again to add as much speed as was possible, more speed was more distance- and I needed distance so I could land and look Whiskey over.

I lift my head, pushing my muzzle into the wind and spreading my wings out to glide. For a moment, I smiled slightly. I liked this feeling, no- not the feeling of Whiskey bleeding out in my grasp, but this other feeling- the tingling in my hooves, the speed. I had a lightning bolt for a Cutie Mark, I had speed….. I had the speed of a lightning bolt.

The Little Me smirked a little more and tipped her glass my way, reclining on the stool she sat atop. She tipped her head back, downing her peculiar brown drink in one.

‘There’s a start, Flashy.’

.:+:.

An hour of flying, the sounds of the DireWolves had faded and their red blips on my E.F.S. had gone out long ago.

Down on the ground again, I was glad for it, my wings were aching nearly unbearably from all the flying while carrying Whiskey. I had decided to land and place us in a small pile up of carriages farther down the highway, this part of the road was especially clogged and I figured it would be hard for anything to find us here. So, in between a large carriage spilling ancient and rotted food of some kind, and a highway divider in which a different, smaller wagon was leaning up against, provided our temporary shelter. I carefully set the motionless form of the Mercenary upon the cold asphalt as gently as I could manage, my efforts earned a weak moan from his blood-encrusted lips. Ok, he was unconscious, he was breathing, he was alive….. and sweet goddesses, that was a lot of blood.

His barding and coat were drenched with it, the silver fur of my legs were dyed crimson the same color as my eyes, I hadn’t taken notice of how much blood Whiskey had been losing until now, and the amount I figured he had lost sent a shiver through me. I shook my saddle-bags from my back and pulled the few healing potions I had out, I limped toward him, my hind leg still clawed, and still painful. I struggled to pull his saddle-bags and trench coat off, before barely getting the Battle-Saddle off. Taking his barding off would prove too hard, and it didn’t matter much anyway. I could see where the DireWolve’s claws had struck into his side, leaving a very deep and serious gouge in his body. I felt that several of his ribs had been broken or even sliced, though it looked like his barding had done its job well enough that he was still alive- I just hoped no organs had been hit. (Vain hope, he hadn’t coughed up blood for no reason at all earlier) I sat down with my hind leg stretched out awkwardly to the side of me when I was done and pulled the healing potions closer. Lifting his head into my hooves I brushed his dark cherry mane from his forehead and began channeling the liquid down his throat.

“Come on…. Come on….” I mumbled, hoping that it would work well enough, I didn’t have anything better than healing potions to offer. I emptied the first and strained my ears to hear the gouge in his flank begin to knit back together, before glancing sideways I saw the flesh start- slowly. With a small sigh and not a second thought, I uncapped a second and gave him that one too. When I was satisfied with the potions handy-work on closing the wound, and upon hearing his shallow breathing deepen and relax, I allowed my heart to go down and closed my eyes, still holding his head in my hooves. After a while a pulled out a syringe full of Rad-Away and gave him that before relaxing completely.

For however odd this seemed of me, to be so worked up over the very pony I had labeled as Level 10 Hatred… the idea of his dying had still struck a chord with me, a chord I didn’t quite understand- and I wasn’t sure if I welcomed it or not. I didn’t really like the idea the Whiskey might have died, perhaps maybe a week ago I would have loved the idea but now….. now I was partial to it, and I didn’t know what to think about that.

We hadn’t really talked much in the last five days, I had attempted small conversation and tried to get a few things out of him- but never with any real success, he was still a closed book, and he was still a bit of a prick…. But things between us had settled down, at least enough that I could get through a few hours without wanting to punch him in that stoic freaking face of his. I opened my eyes to look down at him, slowly tracing the peculiar circle marking over his left eye for a moment- I wondered why it was there, if it was natural or if he had painted it….. I shook my head and set him down gently, folding his trench coat I placed it under his head as a pillow and stood alone in the dim, ready to wait until he woke up. It was sort of my turn after all, he had waited for me to come to when I blacked out a few days prior...

Then, Celestia forbid I caught a break here!

A red blip popped up on my E.F.S. and I bristled, whipping around on three hooves to see where it was, the hind-leg that the DireWolf had scratched was throbbing painfully, and I couldn’t seem to put any weight on it. The sound of claws scraping against the asphalt tipped me off as to what that red blip was, and I growled under my breath. All that damn flying, all that fucking effort…. I thought I had left the last of the DireWolves behind, but I was wrong. You know, I really hate being wrong!

The enormous figure of a DireWolf prowled from around the other side of the food wagon slowly, its glossy dark brown coat speckled with deep green scales faintly and adorned by jet black stripes prowled toward us, its coat was littered with scars- scars that must have been there for a very long time, its claws glowed the same as they all did- only this one, this one didn’t have the yellow eyes as all the rest did. This one had deep, gorgeous even, dark green eyes flecked with lighter green. Its two tails were held still behind it, ears flat against its head, jaws parted slowly and eyes locked directly onto Whiskey. I jumped in front of the copper buck, to my own surprise. I planted myself between him and perhaps what was becoming one of my worst enemies in the Wasteland. This was absurd, I could easily fly away, I could easily leave him here and save myself- yet this thought didn’t even occur to me.

I’m too much of a nice pony for my own good.

What was even more absurd, I didn’t go for any weapon. This was the second thought that didn’t cross my mind, and instead I just waited as the DireWolf lift its huge, heavy paw- getting ready to strike down on me. I closed my eyes, tense, expecting to feel the dangerous weapons tear through my body as easily as they cut through the supports of the highway.

You know, I’m convinced that the Goddesses were trying to prove a point here, why else would they have let me get all the way out here, and then say ‘Gotcha! Here’s another DireWolf, all ready to kill you!’

Then something very light fell on top of my head and fell passed my eyes, I snapped my gaze open immediately, completely astounded to find that… that Whiskey’s cowpony hat had been dropped on my head?!

I lift a hoof and tipped the hat back out of my eyes, just in time to see the DireWolf let it’s huge, heavy paw drop back on to the ground, before sitting down with a loud thump on the road and looking to me with a very calm, very intelligent stare. I could only stare back, my mind working so very slow at what the hell was going on…..? It wasn’t going to kill me? It didn’t seem like that, because suddenly the red blip representing the DireWolf flipped to yellow.

Yellow

It’s head lowered to my level, and tilted, lifting a paw and pointing with one, freakishly sharp, glowing claw toward my hind leg, which was still bleeding slowly.

“Pony hurt?”

.:+:.

Footnote: Level Up
New Perk: Strong Back- You’ve had plenty of experience carrying all sorts of heavy things recently! You have now added +50 to your over-all carry weight.