As Tarnish carved open the door, he tried to ignore the arrow still lodged in his withers. It hurt, but there were those who suffered far worse all around him. The arrow seemed to be acting like a cork and he wasn’t bleeding very much. Flamingo was giggling and begging for him to stop as he sawed through the rusty iron where the lock was.

Magic? Who needed it? He could chop the damn door down. He didn’t need no stinkin’ magic.

The locking mechanism fell to the floor with a thud, sending a cloud of rust and dust into the air. The door didn’t want to open, it didn’t fit the doorway very well, it wasn’t flush or built to any sort of worthwhile standard. More pissed off at this point than anything else, Tarnish turned his body around and bucked the door open. There was a creak of wood on stone and the door flew open with a bang, causing a startled cry from within.

He parked his long, gangly body in the doorway and had a look around. Lots of little eyes were looking back at him. Little itty bitty badger cubs and teeny tiny hairballs clung to one another in the dim room. He looked at them, but said nothing. After a few seconds, he removed himself from the doorway so that many tearful reunions could take place. As he backed away, many badgers and bushwoolies brushed past his legs and he was careful not to step on them.

Next, he moved around the room, cutting the chains that kept the diamond dog slaves in place. Some yelped, fearful, but Tarnish didn’t miss. The shackles would have to come off as well. There was a lot of work to do, so much work to do, and Tarnish didn’t even know where to begin. He had to look after the living, tend to their needs, and he had to look after the dead. He paused to collect his thoughts and saw a group of badger-kin gathering around Grrrr, examining him.

“Your rage and anger will only take you to dark places,” Minori said to Tarnish.

Raising an eyebrow, he replied, “My rage and my anger is the only thing keeping me on my hooves right now.”

“Then perhaps you should not be on your hooves.” Minori bowed her head and held out her paw. “Come to me, let me help you. I can remove that arrow.”

Blinking, Tarnish stood there, unmoving, and he did not respond.

“I know that you have no reason to trust me.” Minori lifted her head and looked Tarnish in the eye. “But what do I have to gain from harming you? I am an old dog, and I need your help.”

“If you do anything treacherous, if you harm him, know this,” Maud said to the old greying dog, “I’ll punch you so hard that your head will explode. I will turn you into a fine red mist.”

Bowing her head, Minori nodded. “I shall heed your words, Sōhei.” There was a pause, then she continued, “Now heed mine. My honour would not allow me to bring harm to my rescuer. I am bound to aid you.”

“Maybe so.” Maud’s ears pitched forwards. “Just keep in mind that I will watch everything you do.”

Grinning, Minori turned her head to look at Tarnish. “Sōhei favours you, curious one. You are blessed to have such an attentive earth spirit.”

“And don’t I know it,” Tarnish replied. His ears perked at the sounds of crying. All around him, little ones were being reunited with their parents. He returned to cutting chains with Flamingo and grateful, but fearful eyes stared up at him.

As he chopped, Tarnish knew that he needed to contact Twilight. He was going to need help. He knew what to do and how to fix all of this. Up north, there was a flooded quarry full of fish and frogs. There was Buttons. It would be a good place for a colony of crippled diamond dogs. He worried about sending them north, fearful that his unseen tormentor might intercept him. He would need to ask Twilight to send the guard, so that the guard could help move the dogs north.

He wished that Dig Dag was still alive so that he might have a chance to kill him in a somewhat more intimate way. For the thirty or forty or so diamond dogs that were above ground, all male, there were about two dozen females down here, far too few. He wondered how many had died to gangrene and poor treatment. How many had been beaten to death for trying to escape?

Even worse, he understood. In such a small colony, you couldn’t give a female rights as an individual, not with the colony’s survival on the line. No, females were for breeding, whether they wanted to or not. It was necessary. Parts of society that he took for granted, things like consent and individual liberties, they would be a detriment here, a potential death sentence for such a small colony. He understood the desperation, but he could not condone the action. He could not reconcile with what had been done. It troubled him, bothered him, it upset him that he understood. It made him feel ashamed, and with the shame, he felt sick to his stomach.

In such desperate, dire circumstances, there would be no courtship, no wooing, no place for affection. Females of breeding age couldn’t be allowed to escape, as each one gone would only weaken the colony. He was witnessing a terrible act of survival and the desperate lengths that one might go to to keep going. Perhaps with time and greater numbers, certain rights might be restored, but he doubted it. A society so mired in such behaviours wouldn’t change, they would want to maintain the current status quo, because it favoured the males. No, Tarnish decided, change would only come through violence and conflict.

Staggering away, Tarnish coughed and then barfed up the contents of his stomach, which appeared to be full of glitter. He spewed again and again, until he felt as though his eyeballs might pop out of his head, and he almost collapsed.

He felt a warm body press against him and he knew that it was Maud. He puked again, his mind reeling, and he was grateful for what he had with Maud. They were a partnership of equals. If he wanted to jam his dangly daddy dingus into her snug little foal hole, he had to earn it.

And earning it made it special.

Sides hitching, he wretched up even more bile and glittery dust from his stomach and spat it out on the floor. He coughed and whooped, trying to breathe, fearing that he was suffocating, and he saw spots dancing in his vision.

Knowing that Maud wanted to be with him made it meaningful.

As he puked, Tarnish knew he was having an epiphany, and he hoped that he would have the presence of mind to remember such a life changing mental awakening later. He had a relationship of fair exchange with Maud and he loved her in a crazy way that he could not explain.

The worst seemed to be over. He stood there, sweating, sides heaving, wondering if he had perhaps sharted at some point from all the pressure crushing his insides. He spat a few times, trying to get the taste of bile out of his mouth. He made the mistake of thinking about his own father, and how his father viewed females.

The thought made him puke again.

Octavia’s hiss made him feel so much guilt that it became a physical sensation of pain. Tarnish looked away, his eyes watering, unable to keep watching as Minori examined the long slash that ran down Octavia’s side. For a moment, he thought he was going to be sick again.

“It’s a flesh wound,” Minori said in a low voice. “It looks worse than it is. The cut goes down into the fat, but does not reach the ribs.”

“I’m not fat,” Octavia protested as her ears stood up in indignation.

“If you did not have this miraculous layer of fat,” Minori said in reply, “then the blade that made this gash would have grazed your ribs.”

“Hmph!” Octavia tossed her head back and then let out a snort.

Forcing himself to turn his head, Tarnish looked at Octavia. One side of her face was swollen, her cheek bulged a bit, and the swelling made one eye narrow. Something had struck her in the head. Even the base of her ear was enlarged and red looking. Looking at her, his ears drooped in an almost foalish display of guilt.

Maud had scratches, a few more serious looking scrapes, and a number of bruises. She was watching everything that Minori was doing, her head following every movement. Beside Maud, Vinyl sat rubbing her head with her eyes half closed.

“I told Dig Dag to train the pack as warriors,” Minori said as she rubbed a salve into the long gash on Octavia’s side. “Train them as fighters. Teach them martial discipline.” The old diamond dog shook her head. “I told him to offer his services to the alicorns as mercenaries. I told him that those who sit on high would pay good coin for his services, but he had to hold himself to a standard.”

Beside Minori, a fresh shorn bushwoolie held up a crude oil lamp so that Minori could see better. The oil lamp was a crude bowl made of pottery with a wick floating on a scrap of something that looked like spongy bark. The flame on the wick sputtered and stunk like rancid meat.

“That feels rather cold,” Octavia said and then hissed by sucking air through her teeth.

“Smells like some kind of mentholated compound.” Tarnish leaned in a little closer and sniffed.

“And now it feels hot… hot!” Octavia squirmed and her tail swished from side to side.

“Go now,” Minori said to Octavia as she pushed the pony away. “I have others to heal.”

Rising to her hooves, Octavia began to prance around, dancing in place, and tossing her head around. “Hot hot hot!” The grey mare squeezed her eyes shut as her hooves clattered against the stone. “Oooh, Vinyl, blow on it, it stings worse than iodine! Don’t just sit there, do something!”

“Stop squirming so much.” Minori’s lip curled back from her teeth in annoyance. “The salve has the skin glued shut. Hold still, stop moving, and don’t like act a puppy, fat one.”

Freezing in place, Octavia turned her head and glared at the old diamond dog. Her lower lip protruded and her eyes glittered. She blinked once, then twice, and she let out a ferocious snort. “I am not fat.”

“We’ve had this discussion, chubby one.” As she spoke, Minori reached out and grabbed Tarnish by his right hind leg. She dragged him closer and pulled him down to the ground so that she might have a better look at him, ignoring his startled bleat of protest.

Gnawing on her lip, Octavia now ignored the freezing-burning salve and the pain in her side as she glared daggers at the old diamond dog. Her ears alternated between pitching forward in an aggressive manner and splaying out to the sides.

Ignoring Octavia’s foalish theatrics, Minori shook her head. “I can’t pull this out.”

“That’s not good,” Tarnish said.

“I am going to have to push it through.” Minori patted Tarnish on the head with a calloused paw. “There will be much pain and screaming. Through suffering, you will know enlightenment. I would suggest that you bite down upon something and contemplate upon the sound of one paw clapping.”

“Huh?” Stymied, Tarnish couldn’t even begin to understand what that meant. “I don’t have paws.”

“But you do have an asshole.” Minori peered down at the protruding arrow. “And as a creature with an asshole, you must fart. The great wisdom tells us that we all share this in common. Tell me, what is the sound of one cheek flapping?”

“I…” Tarnish began, and then faltered.

“My master, Wan Dun Fli, she said that life was like a fart, sudden, full of fury, and then gone on the wind, leaving behind only memory. She was very wise.”

“Are you shitting me?” Tarnish asked, his voice becoming a whine as Minori touched the arrow.

“By the great many armed Collie Ma, I am not shitting you,” Minori replied.

“Maud, help, I think my brain is breaking.” Tarnish turned his pleading stare upon his wife.

“That’s the least of your concerns, Tarnish. She’s about to push an arrow through your withers.” Maud blinked and leveled her stare upon Minori. “Tarnish, bite down upon the flap of your saddlebag. This is gonna be awful…”