Author's Notes:

Since the last chapter of this story was published, I've joined the military, gone through boot camp, moved several hundred miles from Connecticut to South Carolina (country fried steak wtf), gotten promoted, partied very hard, fractured a rib, gained a solid ten pounds of muscle, and generally began to carve my own way in the world, courtesy of the oosnavi. I've grown up some. Not much, but some. Life, man. Hell of a trip.

Anyway: A story is dead for months, and comes alive again only on April 1st, but with a twist ending!?

Enjoy. I think this one's long overdue...

Roam.

The last bastion of the old world. Of a time before harmony, before friendship, before peace. A prelude to even the arrival of the Alicorns, who tried and failed to tame the great city. After the great Queen fell in battle beneath its glacier walls, Roam was forsaken by the divine rulers of the land, fearful of losing another to the bloody ice blades of the North. Not even Sombra, mad as he was, dared test the might of his Empire against it.

It was said that the cold winds of the North hardened the hearts and chilled the souls of those who dwelt there. While that wasn't anywhere near truth, it wasn't entirely a lie, either. Behind the frozen ramparts, the city lived on as it always had, violent and ruthless and terribly alive.

Staring up at the colossal gates to the city from a rise a half-mile away, a cloaked unicorn absently blew a strand of fiery mane away from her goggled vision, dark smithing lenses reflecting the bright arctic sun. She cracked her neck, scowling.

The blizzard had whirled out of nowhere. It might have lasted days, or it might have lasted months. The only thing she was sure of, was that she'd lost time. Badly.

Not even bothering to glance over her shoulder, she barked, "Roll call!"

Movement from behind her, figures emerging from the northern wastes.

"Yeller here." A gruff, graying diamond dog shuffled out of the snow behind her, covered in thick rags and leaning heavily on his crooked spear. Golden earrings jingled on his ears. Old Yeller was steadfast, experienced, and most importantly, reliable. For the time being, he was acting Beta.

A younger diamond dog bounded up next. "Rin-Tin-Tin!" The male was darker, with short fur and a long snout, clad in a sleeveless padded vest while a menacing battleaxe poked out from behind one shoulder. He gaped at the city with a eager glint in his eyes. Strong, though a touch clumsy, he was the fighter of the group, always ready for a scrap.

"Lassie." Chocolate brown, sleek, and long-furred, the pack's archer glided forwards with steady pawsteps. Intelligence was her best quality, and rarely had the unicorn encountered such a sharp mind. Though she did tend to be a bit naive about things...

Another female stalked after the first, this one quite pretty, her coat a bloody red with a white tuft on her bushy tail. "Here~!" she sang. Twin daggers glinted from a gem-studded belt and her collar shone silver, embossed with the crimson fire ruby that all the others' wore. Vixen, true to her name, was (usually) subtle and alluring, but competent enough once she stopped scheming about taking the true Beta back to her den.

Something smaller waddled forth, huddling itself underneath the unicorn's chest and burrowing against her, shivering. "Z-z-zanza!" squeaked the ball of wrappings, a hint of her striped face peering out from behind the layers. The youngest member of the pack, the little zebra's hunt for her missing parents was half the reason the pack had come to Roam in the first place.

"I am here assssss well..." declared a serpentine voice, and a lithe, golden dragoness joined the group, seemingly undisturbed by the chill in the air. The Lady Pyrite idly inspected a wing, shaking off a layer of snow that had built up on her side. "Thissss place hassss quite the penchant for sssssssudden ssssstorms." The unicorn wasn't sure how far the dragoness' loyalties lay, but her Beta had said she would behave herself. For now.

"Welcome to the frozen plothole of the world," muttered the goggled unicorn. "Any word on Echo and Daring?" she asked through gritted teeth.

The dragoness paused, looking as though she were about to say something, when her eye twitched. She jerked -- winced backwards -- and sneezed, a stream of golden fire shooting a full ten feet, right into the unicorn's face. The entire pack, save the unicorn, winced away at the sudden heat. The unicorn herself looked only annoyed by the blast.

A letter dropped to the ground in front of Pyrite. Arching an eyebrow, she opened it and read. After a moment, she smirked, baring fangs. "That would be them now. Ssssseems like they decided to take the... ssssscenic route?" she chuckled.

"Where?" demanded the unicorn.

"Aappleoosa," Pyrite responded.

"Why in Equestria..." the unicorn shook her head. "You know what? No. I don't care. He did it for a reason, and he's obviously got something up his sleeve." At the confirming nod of the golden drake, she added, "but I am going to kick his furry butt into the ground when I see him again. This is the last time he pulls a stunt like this and gets away with it."

"He assssked of me to join him..." Pyrite began. "I assssume he'll need me to come here."

"Then do it."

"Hmmmph. You could be lesssssss... mhh, tessssty about it. We are supposed to be friendssss." Pyrite coyly batted her eyelashes.

"Do it. Please?" Winced the unicorn.

"Better."

With a flash of golden fire, the dragoness vanished from the spot. For a while after that, nopony moved, nopony spoke. The group stood there in solitude, before the huge gates of Roam, stained forever red by the lifeblood of an Alicorn. One could actually see the small scarlet splotch right at the center, even from this distance, where the slabs of ice met the ground.

Ginger Snap slowly lifted her goggles up just below her horn, brilliant pale-green eyes scanning the entrance. A thick, pink-and-red striped scarf itched at her neck, but she knew that it and her battered leather barding were the only things keeping the chill at bay, a chill that even she could feel.

"Don' wanna go in there," muttered one of the dogs. She couldn't tell which. "Smells like bad things."

"Mmmhmm," another quietly added.

At her hooves, the little zebra shivered, huddling for warmth. Ginger glanced down at the foal, hesitating a bit, before squeezing her. "Balto's in there," she said. "Your parents, too. We aren't leaving without either of them."

Zanza sniffled, nodding stiffly.

Ginger shrugged, letting her sword rattle in the sheath she had slung across her shoulders. "Come on," she ordered. "We need to get in there before night falls. I don't want to spend another night out in the snow. Cinderwings..." Ginger glanced at the ragged remnants of her pack. They weren't much, but they were hers. They were family.

She knew that wouldn't be enough to survive this.

"...Let's move out."

It took almost an entire minute at a brisk trot to pass beneath the glacier wall of Roam. Ginger supposed there was a reason the city had never been taken from an outside army. The walls were too thick, the defenders too vicious. Even now, she could still picture the mammoth catapults and siege weaponry atop the walls, and the rugged equine defenders that manned them. The North bred a different sort of pony, thick-furred and strong. Even the mare who let them pass the gates had unshorn fetlocks, and looked like she could snap bones with little effort.

The group emerged out into a market square, ice and cobblestone crunching beneath them as they finally saw the city behind the walls.

Roam wasn't a large city. But it was old, and the ice it was carved from showed that. Buildings from eons ago still stood, intertwined by newer architectures as the denizens of the city passed on. Mighty structures stood tall and proud, platform paths attached to walls, spanning gaps between buildings, sometimes tunnels were dug under. The city itself had no organized structure, it had grown and evolved with the passing of time. As such, it resembled a strange, warped hive of ice, filled with roads that lead to dead-ends, hidden niches and crannies, and impractical, dangerous construction.

And it was throbbing with life.

Beings from all known corners of the world surged along the market square in a cacophony of noise. Equines were abundant: Crystal ponies; bat-ponies; strange hybrids of amphibious seapony-killer whales; donkeys; long-legged Saddle Arabians; pinto mustangs from the desert; the three original tribes were represented, too. Northern breeds of diamond dogs stalked the streets, tall and wolfish. Reindeer pranced along, huge antlers hung with charms and totems. Bare-chested Minotaurs stomped by, cutting paths through the crowds. Gryphons were plentiful, ranging from the predatory hawk-like variety of Equestria to the owlish tribe from across the ocean, and even a hippogriff or two was spotted.

"Stick together!" Ginger called over the roar of commerce, and plunged in without hesitation, little Zanza riding atop her and holding on for dear life.

Jostled, pushed, and battered along, she soon found that it was better to go with the flow than try to strike out in a particular direction. After almost being trampled by a bull Minotaur and pushed over the edge of a railing-less bridge, she soon noticed that they were heading downwards.

She grimaced as the road suddenly plunged into a tunnel. She was not overly fond of caves...

The tide carried them deeper and deeper still, twisting and turning through the depths of the city until Ginger's sense of direction was completely shattered.

Even here, the wonders of Roam continued. Massive columns of ice held up the actual surface city, but down below, it was a world of snaking passages and hidden caverns. Everywhere, homes had been carved out of the ice, sometimes in the most peculiar of places, like a doorway in the ceiling, or a lonely ice-house built atop a teetering stalactite.

As the path continued to divide, the flow eventually waned off, and Ginger soon found herself stopped on a ledge overlooking the main cavern. Her pack came to a halt behind her, Rin-Tin-Tin already sporting a black eye from accidentally stumbling into one of the natives.

A city under the ice.

Here, the temperature was almost tolerable. Below, midst the darkness, lights shone in dwellings and along streets. Ginger spotted a titanic construction a ways off, and pointed. "Ten bits says that is where we'll find Balto."

Old Yeller joined her at the edge. "The arena. I never think I see with my own eyes."

The Grand Arena of Roam. The place of legend, where many heroes of old had ended their quests, and even more villains had vanished into the pages of history. Any slave could win freedom in that bloodied pit, simply by surviving the gauntlet of other slaves that entered there.

That was where Balto probably already was, the traitorous cur. Along with the other half of her pack.

"You know how the stories go," said the elderly diamond dog. "We can wait outside. Ambush him if he wins. If not, then he is dead, and no skin off our bones."

"The matches can last for weeks." Ginger frowned. "And no. We can't just hope he'll die in there. The others are with him. Spot, Luther, and Chance. And Coconut! Celestia, I hope that idiot is all right. We need to go in after him. We need to find out what he's done with Zanza's parents." She glanced behind her, and the little zebra clinging to her neck smiled gratefully. "Then, when I've... dealt with him, we have to make it out of the Pit, find the zebras, get back to Equestria and back to getting you mongrels a proper nation."

"It will not be easy," Old Yeller wheezed.

"I wouldn't be here if it was."

Kth-oooom!

Huddling through a shower of debris, she winced as the back yard exploded for the umpteenth time that day. Blast! She was never going to get the hang of this magic stuff. Another small crater joined a score of others, pitting and marring the surface of the rather charred-looking field behind her home.

She gazed at the results of her efforts with a sigh. Maybe tomorrow...

"Whoo! That was amazing, Gingie! You've been practicing, haven't you?"

That voice.

She knew that voice.

Could it be...?

Ginger spun about, wide-eyed. "M-mom!?"

With a creak of a shutting gate, another pony stepped onto the grass. She was exactly the same as Ginger remembered. Her fur was patchy by her rough forehooves, permanently grayed by coals and heat, and the smiling crimson face was still stained with soot. A smith's hammer was tucked across her shoulders in the crafting harness she rarely took off. The pretty scarlet unicorn in the goggles pumped a hoof in the air. "Heya, kiddo!"

"Mom! Oh my --" Ginger rushed forwards, tackling the mare and smothering her in nuzzles and hugs. "You're finally home! You're finally home! I missed you so much!"

"I can tell," Her mother giggled, holding her wriggling filly close. "I missed you too, Gingie. Have you been behaving for your father?"

The little mare squirmed. "Eh..."

"Ha! That's my girl." With a cheeky grin, Ginger's mother tossed her up over a shoulder, so the filly could ride on her back. "C'mon, lets go surprise him. I've got some stories for you all to hear!"

"How was Canterlot?" Ginger nuzzled into locks of curly mane. Her mother smelled like a warm hearth and cinnamon sticks. She breathed deeply, afraid she'd forget that smell again.

"Canterlot was... Canterlot." Her mother began trotting around the house. A few bags had been stacked up in front of the door, yet to be brought in. "And your relatives wish you well."

Ginger stuck out her tongue. "I don't like them. They're stuffy."

"Yes, well. That may be, but they are still family, and love you very much. Even if my parents --your grandparents-- are a little uptight."

"Grandma makes me wear dresses," Ginger pointed out.

Her mother paused at the doorway. "You look gorgeous in a dress, my little princess."

"Mooooooom!"

Laughing, the two entered the house. The door closed behind them with an ominous creak.

Ginger's eyes snapped open.

She felt... wet?

The room was dark, but she could see steam rising from all around her. Jolting, the unicorn looked down, to discover that the floor had melted in a small circle around her. She was lying in a bowl of hot water, which softly hissed and burbled as it lapped against the ice.

Ginger sighed, extinguishing the flow of magic to her horn, which had probably started several hours ago, judging by the depth of this hole. She sat in the puddle, shivering. It wasn't from the cold. The cold didn't bother her.

It had been a long time since this had happened to her. The first time had been the night before she got her cutie mark. She'd almost burned down the house! That had been fun to try and explain to her parents...

Her parents..

Ginger looked down into the bowl, her reflection looking back at her with worried eyes. Ginger started a little. Was this really what she looked like? It had been some time since she'd really bothered with a mirror. Not since Wethoof, actually. She looked older. A bit gaunt. But still quite pretty, she thought. Her mother's long eyelashes and thoughtful smirk met her father's serious stare and hard features. A strange combination, but she was a strange mare.

Hopping out of the hole, she shook herself off. For the first time in a long while, she had a clear objective in front of her. Enter the notoriously dangerous arena, track down the renegade Balto with all due haste, then proceed to rip his guts out through his eyesockets.

She grinned. Today was shaping up to be a good day.

Most of the other Cinderwings were awake by this time, save Zanza, whom was still dead to the world on the ice couch, swaddled in rags and blankets. Ginger decided it would be prudent to take only one of the diamond dogs with her into the Arena. Old Yeller would stay here with the others and mind the fort, make sure nothing... unexpected happened.

But who to bring?

Rin-Tin-Tin was strong and fast, but not very bright. Ginger didn't need a goon along for the ride, she needed someone who could think on their feet, but still be ruthless enough to survive.

Lassie? Making up in brains for what she lacked in brawn, sure, and a great shot with a bow, but she wasn't exactly the most perceptive. Lassie couldn't track a buffalo in a glassware shop, thought Ginger.

What about...

"Vixen," she called.

The red female's ears perked up. Vixen licked her chops and thumbed the two daggers she kept in her belt. "Yeeeeeeesss, Cindercorn?"

"You're with me."

The more Ginger thought about it, the more confident she felt. Vixen was cunning, not in the predatory way that diamond dogs were, but able to think ahead of the game. She was quick, was more than experienced enough to track Balto down, and she probably wouldn't mind if things got a little... out of hoof.

The other dogs rushed about the small apartment, gathering supplies and equipment for the Alpha and her chosen packmate. Infinite saddlebag, barding, weapons, a large supply of food (because the matches in the arena could take weeks), and several of the explosive pinecones from the mountain. Those might come in handy. Plus, Ginger just had a soft spot for anything that went bang.

Girl's gotta have priorities.

Zanza was awoken by the ruckus. The little zebra shrugged off the blankets, watching the two equipping themselves. "Are you going after them?"

"You got it, kid." Ginger buckled on her scabbard, the arcanite blade within rattling softly. "We'll be back before you know it."

"I want to come with you!" Zanza stood up, eyes shining with determination.

"Yeah, how about not in a million years. Not even if Celestia herself got her fat white behind off the throne, came down from above in a ray of sunlight, planted a big, sloppy kiss on my lips and said 'Please take that filly with you.'"

"But they're my parents!"

Ginger rolled her eyes, snorting, "And if whoever's in the Arena doesn't kill me, they will, for bringing you along there. Trust me, squirt. There's a reason this place has a reputation. A lot of good people have died in there. Like, a --- no, no, you stop that, you stop that right now!"

Zanza's lower lip had begun to tremble. The smallest drop of wetness had begun to form on the edges of her eyes.

"No! Absolutely not!"

Zanza sniffled.

"Maybe we should bring her..." Vixen couldn't look away.

"Maybe you should go to hell!" Ginger barked at her, then back to the filly. "You are going to stay here, where it is safe, and a significantly lowered amount of evil characters are going to try and hurt you. The Cinderwings are bound to keep you safe and find your parents, so that's what we're going to do, whether you like it or not. Got it!?"

"I j-just want to help... I miss them so m-m-much!" Zanza whimpered, gazing sadly down at the floor.

Rin-Tin-Tin scooped her up off the couch and hugged her violently. "Don't worry little stripey pony we'll do a good job, you'll see! Don't be sad, please don't be sad!"

"Rin what are you doing."

The diamond dog looked helplessly at the others. "She so cute I'm gonna die!" He squeezed the filly, who made a sound not unlike a squeaky toy.

"The answer is still, and will always be no." Ginger said. "Rin, put her down before you give her fleas or something."

"Awww..."

Once released, Zanza scampered over and stood before Ginger, looking up at her. "Well, at least let me wish you good luck."

Ginger blinked. "Yeah. Sure, whatever."

Before she could blink, striped hooves wrapped themselves around her neck. Zanza's tiny frame held her tight. "Good luck, Miss Ginger. Please come back. You're kind of cool, for a grown-up," said the filly.

Ginger couldn't move. "Um..." The other diamond dogs suddenly pounced, big furry bodies holding eachother closely in what might have been the most painful group hug of Ginger's life, calling out there own words of encouragement. Say what you will about them, but a diamond dog pack was more like a family than most would realize.

"Stop! Achk! I h-hate you all!" wailed the unicorn from the center of the pile. "I really mean it this time!" Eventually, she fought her way out and made a break for the door. "Vixen! Let's go!" The foxy dog tore after her, extracting herself with haste.

Slamming through the ice door, skidding across the frozen road, and she was off, galloping pell mell for the Arena in the distance and trying as hard as she could not to smile.

Breath hung in the air, along with the bodies who exhaled it.

A couple dozen bits, one bribed official, and several broken jawbones later, Ginger and Vixen sat perched in a swaying cage, suspended above the Arena itself. Ginger pretended not to hear the sounds of Vixen losing her breakfast over the side. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, hoping to not add to the rocking of the infernal contraption. At least the height gave her a good view of her destination, though.

The Grand Arena of Roam was nothing more than a vast sinkhole in the ice, topped by a massive cage, disappearing so far down it turned to blackness. Various bridges of rope and wood (of suspicious quality) spanned the void going every which way, some going down, some rising, others merely traversing the gap. Within the icy itself, countless tunnels and caverns, a maze carved through the darkness by centuries of intrepid combatants and the monsters that dwelled within.

Within this twisted catacomb, no less than two hundred combatants could participate in a single match.

The victors not only had to survive the competition, they had to survive the Arena itself, and traverse from the very bottom of the pit to the top, where a single gilded platform would rise and take them from their hell.

A small crystal floated nearby. It was enchanted to give a bird's eye view of every party that entered itself into the Arena. Through that crystal, the denizens of Roam could "tune in" via other crystals in their residences and spectate in the bloody sport, switching from team to team with the flick of a thought. She had no idea who was watching her now. Didn't care much, either.

Really, Ginger had to applaud them. These Roamans had not only made gore and slaughter into a sport, they'd made it into a national pastime.

Sickos.

The cage lurched, and with a creak of chains and pulleys, began to descend the descent into certain madness.

Having entered the match late, they would need to catch up, Ginger thought as they traveled further and further in. Balto would have already made some progress through the maze. She wondered if he was already dead yet. That would be a wonderful surprise. About time the universe threw her a break, really.

They passed the top-most bridge. On it was the corpse of a reindeer in plate armor with two arrows through the eyes, and the lower half of the body completely missing, as if it had been torn off with a meat-grinder. No doubt there was a band of gladiators waiting at the very end to prey on those who dared rise.

Ginger put her goggles on and did her best not to join Vixen at the railing.

Down, down, further still down they went, passing more bridges along the way. Some were clear, others held more corpses, all murdered in increasingly depraved ways.

Sometimes there were living combatants on the bridges. Some merely watched the pair descend. Others screamed insults and shot spells or arrows at them. Ginger simply sent a thin lance of fire through ropes to one such bridge, and it gave, sending the occupants screaming into the depths.

By this time, Vixen had regained herself. "That will teach them not to mess with Cinderwings!" she spat at the falling foes.

Ginger ignored her. The three scars running across her jaw had started to ache.

The light was beginning to grow dim, simply from the distance they had traveled from the surface and the amount of bridges above, blocking out the sun. Eventually, the atmosphere settled on something between twilight and midnight, tinged bloody red and icy blue.

Ten minutes into the journey, a crystal pony hurled herself at their cage from a bridge, slamming onto the top of it and sending them tumbling. Pulling out an axe, she began hacking at the chain itself. The crystal floating around her flickered. "Kill'em before they touch ice! This'll get me watchers up the plot! Hahahahahahaaa!"

Vixen sprang to the top of the cage, holding to the bars with strong claws, and reached through the gap, slicing open the pony's neck with a dagger. She collapsed with a gurgle, axe clattering off the side and disappearing down into the dark. Dropping back down, Vixen snickered aloud, "Dumb pony."

Ginger eyed the dying mare. She was dripping blood into their cage, now. "I hate this place."

"I like it here." Vixen licked her dagger. "Mmm. Crystal pony tastes like crystal!"

"Keep that. To yourself." Ginger saw something approaching below. Their cage had begun to slow. Were they close to the end? Was this finally the ground, perhaps? But why was it so...

Oh, Luna above...

Centuries of conflict had left their calling card. The very bottom of the Arena of Roam was a graveyard. Bodies literally covered the pit from edge to edge, some old enough to have become simple skeletons, others quite recently added (Ginger spotted one of the ponies from the bridge she had cut earlier) lying broken and still. Intuition told her the actual ice was still a ways down.

Abruptly, something burst from the corpses, something huge and chitinous. With a screech, it grabbed one of the fresher pickings and burrowed back from whence it came in a shower of limp flesh and splintered bone.

Vixen and Ginger simply stared, open-mouthed.

A wide eyed zebra face nosed itself out of Ginger's bottomless saddlebag. "Holy @#$%!"

"...You disobeyed a direct order! I explicitly told you --- no, Zanza, do not come with us into the pit of death!"

"..."

"And what did you do!?"

"Came with you..."

"What was that?"

"Came with you to the pit of death..."

"EX-ACTLY. Of all the boneheaded, irresponsible, disobedient, nutcase, not cool things to do, this is like at the top of the lists! You crawled into my saddlebag when everyone was... blech, hugging me, and stowed away!"

Ginger stormed back and forth across the ice. The three of them were inside one of the tunnels that led directly off the bonehill at the bottom of the pit. The ice here was dirty and stained, and Ginger's every thunderous stomp melted it with a burst of steam.

To say she was angry would have been an understatement.

She was beyond anger.

In fact, she felt... strangely at peace with it.

This is exactly the sort of thing that I would have done.

"WHY!? FOR CELESTIA'S SAKE, WHY?"

"I have to find them," said Zanza, who could be credited for not stammering under the onslaught of such a righteous tongue-lashing.

"That's what we're here for!" hissed the exasperated unicorn.

Zanza shook her head. "No. I lost them. I need to be there when we do find them. That's the zebra way."

"Your way stupid," Vixen pointed out.

Ginger growled in agreement. "I can respect trying to fix a mistake, but this is no place for fillies!" To emphasize her point, a pony charged from around the corner, a dagger of ice raised high to strike. Groaning, Ginger whipped her sword out and threw it, skewering him through the heart and sending him tumbling to a boneless heap in front of them. "Do you see what I mean!?"

"There were always the threat of raiders in the Zavannah," Zanza argued. "Sometimes villages didn't get along. I've seen dead bodies before, and been chased by raiders before."

"There's more to it that that!" Ginger ripped her blade free, flicking the blood away with a twist of magic. "Now we have an extra body to care for, somepony who isn't used to working in a team, or taking orders, somepony who can't fight! Me, Vixen, alone, stand a good chance of making it out of this! Me, Vixen, and you do not!"

"I can fight..." mumbled Zanza.

"Buffalo shit, you can!"

"I brought my own food, so I wouldn't weigh you guys down," pleaded the filly, opening up the saddlebags she wore under a thick blue traveling cloak. "And I can be really, really quiet! Honest!"

"Zanza," Ginger said, dragging a hoof down her face, "there are things in this place that are not meant for a child to see."

"I'm not a baby anymore," retorted the zebra, "and you're not my mom!"

Ginger flinched at that. "No, I'm not. But I think she'd stand behind me on this."

Zanza merely gave her a look that said, deal with it.

The unicorn gave an exasperated shriek. Already, things had take a turn towards the unexpected. She hated the unexpected. Worse, Zanza was here to stay, like it or not. She doubted she could keep the little zebra confined to the enchanted saddlebag she had snuck in on.

What could she do? What could she possibly do? Backed into a corner. The platform had already risen again. The only way out was up, forward, and through anything that stood in their way. "Were you talking to Echo before we all got separated?" she demanded. "This is the kind of crap he pulls all the friggin' time."

"I've been doing my best to stick by you, Miss Ginger," said Zanza.

Vixen laughed. "It shows!"

Ginger glared at the diamond dog, who promptly covered her mirth with a paw. "You have a devious mind, Zanza."

Beaming, the filly hopped in place. "Thanks!"

"It wasn't a compliment." Spinning on the spot, Ginger stepped over the fallen pony in the middle of the tunnel. The lost blood had already begun to freeze. "You keep up. You do what I say, when I say. If you see something that looks like it wants to kill you, you get behind me. Don't touch anything, don't even breathe on anything. We're gonna go get your parents back, and I hope they scold you to within an inch of your life."

She pretended not to hear the congratulatory sound of hoof slapping paw from behind her.

Achievement Earned- "Fight the Power!"

Level Up!- Ginger Snap, Alpha of the Cinderwings, Flame of Wethoof

-Perk: The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway: (50% ice mitigation) You take half damage from freezing effects and ice-based magic. You are now also more likely to break into spontaneous singing. (current odds are 3/44)

-Perk: Telekinesis Telekeshmesis: (+10% damage with magically held weapons) 'Dat Force Grip, girl! Whether its spinning a ten stone warhammer around like it's made of pixie dust or just plain old chokin' a bitch out with your mind, your magical grip is improving. You've become a real arcane knuckle-cracker.

Level Up!- Zanza the Zebra, Striped Shadow

-Perk: Make Your Momma Proud: (+5 spirit, +2 strength) You're growing up. With that comes the responsibility to face the consequences of your actions. With recent events, you feel more mature than ever. A blossoming flower is about to spread its petals... you'll make her proud, Zanza. I know you will.

-Perk: Zebra See, Zebra Do: (+10 intelligence, faster learning) A keen mind, still developing, is influenced by the actions of those around her. That being said, these idiots are giving you all kinds of ideas. You grasp ideas at an accelerated pace, and have the beginnings of genius in the making.

-New Ability: Cute and Cuddly, Boys: (+25 d'awwww) You have perfected the art of the pouty face. Use it wisely. Critical hits cause instant diabetes.

Regions Discovered!: Roam, The Arena of Roam, The Cinderwings' Loft