A small family of zebras were huddled around their wagon, inspecting the damage the rock had caused.

The father looked over the splintered wheel with interest, while the mother began setting up a small camp for the night. “Zanza, go back down the path, my child. Those berries we passed will taste good to eat, even better grown wild,” she said to the smaller zebra, a half-grown mare who’d yet to earn her tribe tattoo.

Zanza looked up from where she’d been shuffling around in the thick carpet of needles that covered the forest floor. “Those yellow ones, or the funny pink ones?”

Her mother paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I would prefer yellow, the flavor is mellow.”

Zanza nodded and scampered off down the path they’d been following for the past few days. Traveling across borders was tiring business, and the family needed every ounce of food and water they could get their hooves on. They were bound for far-off Appleoosa, after all. They had family there, a distant cousin who had arranged for some work and a place to stay. Her mother, a respected shaman, was needed to serve the fledgling zebra community that was taking root on the frontier. The ponies would need her help as well - they weren’t as used to zebras as living in wild country.

The trip hadn’t been that bad, Zanza reflected. At least, before they crossed the border. Equestria was vast and alien, and they had been journeying for a couple months now, all the way from the southern zebra lands of the Zavannah.

The setting sun dappled her striped coat as she trotted onwards down the path. Above, the mighty ironwood pines stretched higher than she would have thought possible. When they’d entered the forest, she’d been astounded (and a little bit frightened) to see that living things could grow so large.

She hated it here, though she’d never admit it to her mother and father. It was so hard to see the sky. After spending much of her foalhood on the open plains, it was like removing an eye. It was enclosed, and it made her extremely aware that she was a stranger here. She missed her village dearly, hidden in the tall grasses of the Zavannah where the plains were so vast they looked like an ocean of amber stalks.

She loved her parent dearly, but sometimes she wondered if they were in their right minds for doing something like this - and dragging her along for the ride, no less.

Zanza sighed to herself and continued down the path, the few golden rings she had looped around a foreleg softly clinking together. Her exotic teal eyes peered through the final moments of sunlight. She vaguely recalled the berries her mother had spoken about, maybe fifteen minutes or so back the way they’d come. It was good that she was starting to take a more active role in the trip. She wasn’t a foal anymore, but she was not yet a fully grown mare. Stuck in awkward adolescence for now, at least until she proved her worth to the tribe and earned her tattoo. She was determined to get it by the time she reached Appleoosa. Fetching food for dinner was trivial, but it was a start. Once she was grown, she’d have her mark, and would speak in rhyme.

She continued on, lost in her daydreams. She pictured herself with her mark, just like her parents’. She already knew what it would be. The tribe’s sigil had been a swirling bolt of lightning for centuries. Every tribe had a different one, signifying the deep bond between its members. On the Zavannah, it was important to work together, so that the group as a whole would prosper. Teamwork within the tribe was critical not just for day-to-day affairs, but for survival. Predators lurked within the sea of grass. Sticking together would deter them.

Distracted by her fancies, she tripped over a protruding root and toppled over, mashing her face into the ground. “Ptah!” she spat out a clump of needles that had somehow found their way into her mouth. Zanza sat up, looking around. It was dark, now. The ground beneath her hooves was not packed down like the path, it was soft and springy.

She abruptly realized that she had no idea where she was.

“Not now. Not now, of all times!” Zanza whined to the silent trees. She leapt to her hooves and spun, trying to find a landmark, anything that could tell her where the path was. I have the worst luck in the whole village, she bemoaned. The almost eerie sameness of the forest in any direction was unsettling.

She peered up through the dense canopy, trying to use the stars to get her bearings, but could barely see through it. What she did notice, however, was a ruddy glow coming some ways off to the left, illuminating the tips of the trees and wispy clouds that hung in the sky.

I thought the sun had set already, she thought to herself. When the scent of smoke hit her nostrils, her eyes widened in realization.

Fire!

On the Zavannah, it was more dangerous than hungry lions or crocodiles. Fire was a killer, uncaring of its victims and utterly without mercy. Entire villages had been wiped out by wildfires before. Every zebra knew the it was a thing to be feared and respected. She had to run. That was the only thing to be done. Running was the only sure way to survive, and even then, a bushfire in the dry season, with a stiff wind, could travel faster than a herd of gazelle.

The forest around her began to stir, its denizens beginning to sense the impending danger. A squirrel exploded from the trunk of a nearby tree and began to sprint away. Birds began to wake up again, sounding their alarm calls.

Zanza panicked. She had to find her parents. Now. But they could be anywhere! They could be at the fire! She gasped. They could be in trouble! She broke out into a dead run.

Zanza betrayed one of the most powerful instincts a zebra had.

She ran towards the fire.

“Mommaaaaa~!” she cried, tripping over a fallen log, before curling up as a massive buck leaped over her, quickly followed by his harem of does. She rolled wildly amongst the pine needles to avoid their thin cloven hooves stepping on her. Mercifully, none of the deer trampled her, and streaked away into the forest with their tails held high in fear.

She leapt to her hooves and scurried on through the pines, holding a foreleg up to her mouth to avoid breathing in the pall that was beginning to stain the sky black. Something dashed past her. Something big. But it paid her no mind, and so she continued on, heart hammering in her chest. She was half-sobbing now, breaths hitching in her chest.

“Poppa! Mommaaaaaa~!” she cried again.

Why had she listened to them? If she had stayed by the camp, they’d still be together, and she wouldn’t be alone in this stupid, scratchy forest. She wouldn’t be so alone...

Zanza wiped her tear-streaked face, and pressed on. She crested a small hill, and loosed a gasp before she fell to her knees in despair.

A solid sheet of flames faced her through the trees, not even a hundred yards away. She could see it through the dense ironwood trunks, turning the forest floor into a twisted, flat smile. One of the mighty trees toppled over in the distance, letting out a sigh and a groan, as if it were relieved to finally come to rest.

Her parents were somewhere nearby, she knew. They had to be!

The filly looked on as the fire kept spreading. Even from here, she could hear its roar, a whooshing moan, accompanied a constant blast in the face with hot wind.

Suddenly, the fire jumped from tree to tree, the nearby ironwoods finally succumbing to the blaze. The flames leapt from treetop to treetop, turning the mighty pines into monolithic torches. For a moment, Zanza imagined that the fire was alive, hunting her. The front advanced a couple dozen yards in the span of seconds.

She watched as the ground erupted into a seething mass of heat, the dry needles catching alight and covering the earth with a literal sea of fire.

And the tide was coming in.

“Mommmaaaaa! Poppaaaaaa~!” she cried once again. They had to hear her! They just had to! This whole nightmare would be over if she could just get to them!

The filly trotted back and forth, wracked with indecision. Every second she stayed, the tide of flames advanced another yard. But her parents were beyond it! She screamed with frustration, yanking at the short, striped mohawk that ran down her head and neck.

“I don’t know what to do!” she yelled at the flames. “Help me!”

Her only answer was a deafening POP-POP-POP! as the ironwood cones exploded from the heat like popcorn kernels. She shrieked and covered her ears, ducking as a piece of flaming cone whizzed by her head and crashed into the ground some way behind her.

Her eyes widened as she saw the ground erupt where the cone had crashed, ignited by the flames. Faster than she could believe, the flames raced towards her, around her, encircling her in a vortex of heat and light. She screamed again as she felt the tip of her tail begin to singe.

“HEEEEEEEEELLLLLP!”

Then, something very strange happened.

Solid limbs wrapped around her midsection and held her tight, pulling, pulling. She looked down, astounded, as the ground began to recede, the spot she had been standing in a split second before was now awash with fire. The treetops began to pass by her now, and then, she was above them, moving gracefully over the forest.

She was...flying?

Zanza craned her neck around, and found herself staring a pegasus pony, or at least the side of her that she could see. The pegasus was gliding easily on the thermal updrafts created by the forest fire, dusky tan wings barely even flapping. She -for Zanza noticed the slimness of her figure- was wearing a pale green pocketed shirt, sleeves rolled up at her elbows. A mane, streaked black, grey, and silver, like a colorless rainbow, whipped out from underneath a khaki pith helmet worn at a jaunty angle over the mare’s head. Zanza couldn’t tilt her head back far enough to see her face.

“You alright, kiddo?” the pegasus asked her. She had a raspy sort of voice. Zanza wondered who she was speaking to.

“Y-yes, ma’am...” she croaked. She must have swallowed more smoke than she thought.

The pegasus angled her wings, and they began cruising away from the fire. “It’s not often you find anypony in these parts,” the mare said, “even less often when you find one trying to run into a forest fire! Care to explain what you were thinking, there?”

Zanza coughed up a glob of black spit. Gross! “I w-was trying to get-t to my parents.”

She could almost feel the mare frown. “Your parents? You mean there are more ponies back there?”

Not ponies, zebras. Zanza weakly nodded, suddenly feeling tired.

They began to descend at a fast pace. Branches whipped by them, but Zanza was starting to feel distant and sleepy, and they didn’t bother her, even when one smacked her in the face.

She felt the scratchy needles against her side. The mare had set her down on the forest floor.

“We’re going to find your folks, don’t you worry,” her rescuer sated, backing off a few paces to unfurl her wings again. “Coconut, you take care of her until we get back. I think there’s some aloe in the library. Mix it with a healing salve.”

A new voice spoke up, weirdly accented. “I got it, Darin’. Hiya!” A strong, but gentle hoof rolled her over onto her back. She found herself looking up into the face a of another pony, a stallion, this one a deep chocolate, with a short, cropped mane of a bright yellow color. He gave her a reassuring, yet loopy sort of smile. “I’m Coconut, and we’re rescuin’ ye!” Zanza blinked, unsure of what to make of that.

Daring, she mused to herself. Like Daring Do, the famous pony explorer? Like from that book series? She took a double take on her rescuer. Sure enough, the pegasus looked exactly like the cover of the books, right down to her magenta eyes and her trademark whip coiled about her waist.

Zanza was utterly dumbstruck.

Yet another voice sounded, this one gruff but feminine. “What’s the extent of the fire?” Zanza turned her head to the side to see that another pony had appeared, this one a unicorn mare, with a pale cinnamon coat, a red and orange mane that was uncomfortably like the flames she had just escaped, and the most startlingly green eyes she’d ever seen.

“About a couple thousand yards back that way,” she heard her rescuer say. “It’s not that big right now, so far it’s contained within a valley. But this filly’s parents are still there. Ginger, we might be able to reach them if we move fast”

The second mare, whom Zanza assumed was the one called “Ginger,” paused for a moment, before conceding, “Fine. Whatever. You watch out from above. I’ll head in on the ground. Echo!” she called. Something big flickered on the edge of Zanza’s vision, accompanied by a flash of dark green. It went to sit right next to Daring Do, who briefly nuzzled the figure. “You get the others moving. We’ll meet you back across the river, where we crossed. Set up the camp where we had it. Now GO!”

Zanza felt herself picked up and laid across the strong back of the stallion. He began to move away from the two mares, who had turned back towards the fire, the glow of which could be seen even from here. The pegasus snapped her wings down in a powerful stroke and zipped up into the sky as if she had been yanked by an invisible cord. Zanza watched in astonishment as the unicorn’s horn lit up a sharp, pale emerald, and her body rippled as motes of green-tinged flames began to shimmer around her coat. The unicorn gave an irritated snort, expelling a small cloud of steam, before charging off through forest, seemingly unfazed by the enroaching fire.

A soft rumbling noise filled the air, one she recognized as the sound of wagon wheels turning. Other large shapes moved alongside her and Coconut, but through the smog and her addled mind, Zanza couldn’t place them. Her head was swimming with exhaustion.

After a time, Coconut came to a halt. Zanza coughed as he gently slid her off his back. They had come to the edge of a thick river. The shapes that had been following them melted out of the trees, joining a larger one that had stopped before them at the river’s edge. Zanza squinted for a moment, before it finally hit her.

Diamond dogs, she realized with dread. Almost ten of them, clad in ragged clothes and armed with a patchwork assortment of crude weapons.

In the Zavannah, such creatures were rare. It was not a very gem-rich land, of which were staples of the diamond dog diet. As a result, they had simply died off, or turned pure carnivore, and at that point were driven far from zebra lands.

One of them, an enormous, stocky black female with a squashed-looking face and armed with a massive wooden maul, went over from the gathering to Coconut. Zanza clung to him as if she were at risk of being blown away. “River too high for pony,” the diamond dog spoke in a broken sort of way, “we carry nutpony and littlepony.”

Coconut, whom she had addressed as “nutpony,” nodded. “What about the wagons?” he asked her.

The female stomped the butt of her maul into the forest floor. It was easily eight feet long, and yet seemed a thin little stick in her paws. “Echo say we bring over after ponies.”

Coconut bounced in place. “This'll be fun! I like swimmin’.” He began to nudge her towards the river.

“W-wait,” she sputtered, “what’s going on? Who are you all?”

“I’m Coconut Fronds,” her stallion said to her again, as though pleased to remember his own name. “And these here are some of me packmates. We’re gonna be gettin’ ye ta safety, all right? Nothin’ ta be worried about.”

“Packmates...?” she asked blankly. “But they’re diamond dogs...”

“Yup! And I’m a pony! Isn’t that neat?”

Zanza suddenly felt the onset of a headache. “N-no, I mean why are you with them.”

“‘Cuz they’re me packmates, that’s why! Didn’t I already tell ye that? Ye musta breathed in more smoke than ye thought. The big mean one is Boxer,” he said, pointing to the female that had addressed them earlier. “The dotty one drinking by the river is Spot.” Coconut went on to point out each one of the diamond dogs, most of which stoically ignored them, but a few gave a polite nod or a gravelly word of greeting. Finally, Coconut came to the last of them. “This big fluffball here is Echo. He’s Beta. That means second-in-command. ”

The last diamond dog was an oddity. He was large, taller then most of the others, but lanky. His fur was different, too - instead of the short, dense hair the others sported, he had a shaggy, reddish-brown coat, with a creamy patch down the underside of his face, throat, and chest. Zanza noticed a thick, gleaming scar ran across his throat, parting the fur in an ugly gash. From his neck hung a golden compass. Unlike the simple vestments the others wore, he had on a dark green sleeveless robe that reached to his knees, a hood thrown over his head with slits cut for his tufted ears, and open down the front. A pale blue sash was tied around his waist like a belt, and faded cloth strips were wrapped around his forearms down from the elbows, over which thick metal bracers gleamed in the firelight. He carried a staff with him, laced with the mystic runes of a zebra shaman.

Zanza focused on his staff with confusion. How did a diamond dog get a hold of a shaman’s medicine staff? They were precious relics, passed down from generation to generation.

Echo peered out at her from under his hood. She could see the faintest twinkling of his eyes, but his hood cast most of his face in shadow. He held out a massive wrapped paw to her. Zanza instinctively flinched backwards and cowered by Coconut’s side, but the large stallion only laughed. “He ain’t gonna hurt ye, missy. He just wants ta talk, see? Put your hoof in his paw. Can’t talk to ye unless he’s touchin’ ye.”

“T-talk?” The stress of the day was seriously taking a toll on her. Hesitantly, she complied with Coconut’s instructions, pressing a trembling hoof into the creature’s paw. It was softer than she expected, and warm, too. Immediately, she was overcome with the strangest sensation, as if a soft, fuzzy blanket had been placed around her head.

“Hello, young one,” a deep, solemn voice said.

Echo had not moved his muzzle at all. Zanza looked around again. Who had said that? The other diamond dogs were busy pulling a trio of wagons from the trees to the river’s edge, each one with a reinforced bottom meant for crossing high-watered fjords. Her parent’s wagon had been built like that as well. One of the constructs was enormous, a six-wheeled behemoth that resembled a sleek house more than a wagon. Coconut was standing nearby, a mischievous look on his face as he eyed the large one.

“Who said that?” she asked warily.

“I did,” came the voice again.

She spun back towards the diamond dog, who’s muzzle now sporting a small smile. “You?” she queried in disbelief.

He nodded. With his free paw, he pointed a finger at the old scar across his neck. “I lost my true voice a long time ago.”

“Oh,” Zanza said lamely. At a loss for words, she added, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Do not be. I have grown in ways that I could not have with it. Magic had replaced what once was flesh and bone.” Echo shrugged. “Now, little one. We must cross this river to reach safety from the fire while we still have time. Would you permit me to carry you?”

Zanza was...stunned, to say the least. She had heard terrible stories about how cruel and coarse diamond dogs could be. Stories about how they enslaved zebras and ponies alike to work in their gem mines...she had even heard stories about them eating their captives! But these diamond dogs didn’t seem to be anything like that. Echo especially. Her parents would never believe this. A diamond dog with manners? Even if he did have a stolen shaman’s staff, he didn’t seem all that bad.

She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust any of them. But what other choice did she have?

“Uhm...okay?”

She squeaked as she suddenly found herself heaved into the air to come to a rest over his back, her forelegs dangling over his shoulders. “Hold on tight,” came his weirdly disembodied voice.

Zanza barely had time to respond before she felt the diamond dog break into motion, swiftly taking a few bounding lopes before hurling himself out into the river. They broke the surface with a mighty splash, and Zanza greedily slurped up as much of the crystal clear river water as she possibly could. The diamond dog heaved beneath her, kicking out at the water in powerful strokes. They crossed the river in good time, and Zanza felt a good deal cleaner now than before. When they crested the opposite shore, Echo reached up and gently placed her on the ground, before starting in shock. “You’re a zebra?” his voice came again before he released her.

Zanza shook herself off. “Couldn’t you tell?”

The diamond dog placed a paw over her withers. “No, you were black with smoke and soot!” He grinned, a flash of white from beneath his hood. He started shaking for a moment. Zanza was worried that he was having a fit of some kind, before she realized he was laughing!

“What’s so funny?” she demanded crossly.

He offered her a paw again, and she placed her hoof on it.

“You looked like a pony before. A very...dirty pony. I apologize, but this is a bit of a shock. I have never met a zebra. May I have your name, little one?”

“Zanza,” she said hesitantly. “And my parents are back the other way, so I’m not the only zebra around here.”

Echo looked back across the river, where the other dogs were beginning to cross, some tied to curious metal harnesses, pulling the wagons, while others swam behind, pushing the floating vehicles across. Coconut could be seen riding atop the largest one, dramatically posing on the roof. “Ahooooooy, there!” he called.

Beside her, Echo smacked himself in the face with his paw.

“What?” Zanza asked.

“Sometimes, I just can’t believe I hang around these idiots.”

“Okay?” Zanza said, more confused than ever. Echo gave her a short bow and left for the shore, helping to haul the first rickety wagon out of the water. The moment he stopped touching her, that odd fuzzy feeling around her head vanished. Zanza shivered.

She shook herself off some more and had another drink from the river, eager to soothe her scorched throat. The other dogs and Coconut managed to float all three wagons across with little trouble, and each were hauled a short distance onto the bank before getting locked into place with small stones jammed under the wheels.

Coconut found her again, and gestured towards the largest wagon, the one with six wheels. He shook his head in disbelief as he saw her. “I’ll be! A zebra!”

“My name is Zanza. And so what if I’m a zebra?” Zanza snapped. Why were they making such a big deal out of this?

“Zebras are cool.” He frowned, peering at her closely. Zanza awkwardly shuffled her hooves. “Come wit me, I’ll get ye somethin’ for those burns ye sportin’ there.”

“Burns?” She examined herself for the first time, and saw that her black and white stripes were singed and patchy in some places. She wearily sighed, casting a glance back over the river, to where the flames had advanced within spitting distance of the opposite shore. “Are you sure those other two ponies can find my parents?” she asked him worriedly.

Coconut followed her gaze, thoughtfully biting a lower lip. “If there’s anypony who can do somethin’ that stupidly heroic, it’s Darin’ Do and Ginger Snap. Now let’s get ye out of the smoke and inside where it’s safe.”

Zanza hesitated. She wanted to watch for the return of the two mares, leading her two parents out of the blaze. She was too tired to protest, though, and went with him without argument.

She followed him into the largest wagon, and stopped in disbelief at what she saw.

“It’s bigger on the inside,” she said. “Of course. As if I expected this to make sense as well!”

The inside of the wagon was enormous. A large common room took up the center of the space, with doors on two opposing walls and a well provisioned kitchen on the far side. Several throwaway cushions were scattered across the floor, centered around a thick, worn-looking table the size of her family’s tent.

She was just coming to terms with how in the stars that was possible when one of the cushions exploded in a shower of confetti and small pieces of candy.

BANG!

“SURPRISE!”

Zanza wasn’t sure how she ended up clinging behind Coconut’s sturdy frame, but she did know that when she became aware of her surroundings again, he was scolding somepony. “Disarray, ye gone and scared the poor filly senseless!” She peeked out from behind the stallion to see who he was talking to.

Her jaw hit the floor.

Standing nonchalantly in the remains of what had once been a throwaway cushion was a creature that looked like it had been glued together with a bunch mismatched body parts. It was tall, with a wry, scaled snake-like body. A purple, draconic face gazed at her, with a mix of mischief and interest in glimmering pink eyes. A thick moustache of several colors sprouted from his fanged muzzle, floating serenely in an invisible wind. Each of his appendages were different. One of his arms was snow white and furry, like that of a bear, while the other was red and covered in a shell, ending in a massive crushing claw, vaguely similar to a lobster she had seen once. It was standing on its hind legs; one of which was a lion’s, the other was that of an ostrich. A long, tan, whip-like tail covered in fur extended out behind it, capped with four spikes extending out from the sides. Two wings fluttered by its sides, one that looked to be from a massive wasp, and the other seemed to be the wing of a peacock.

The monstrosity leaned towards her and grinned, before snorting a puff of smoke out its draconic nostrils.

“Boo.”

In that instant, Zanza drew upon centuries of survival skills, honed by ancestral experience and drilled in by endless lessons from her parents and peers. She was backed into a corner, with no way out. Only one possible thing to do!

Zanza leaped onto Coconut’s back, swiftly pivoted on her forlegs, and bucked the thing as hard as she could.

POW!

It reared back, clutching at its muzzle. Coconut was laughing uproariously, shaking so badly that he threw Zanza off. “Oh, right in the face! She hit me in the face! That filly has got a cannon for a leg,” it was whimpering. A small flock of bluebirds were flying around its head. It ran a reptilian tongue over its fangs. “Am I missing anything? I feel like I just got an anvil dropped on my mouth!”

Coconut was still snickering. “Ha-har! She kicked out your tooth!”

The creature snapped its fingers, and a mirror popped into existence. It held it up, inspecting itself. “So she did. How fitting, I look just like my dear old man, now.” Sure enough, one of the oversized canines had vanished. It leaned down onto the floor and picked it up, using the massive lobster claw with surprising delicacy. The monster banished the mirror with a snap of its fingers and ominously gazed down at the filly, who was still trembling behind Coconut.

Unbelievably, he extended a paw and smiled broadly. “I like you! My name is Disarray, and you are now officially best pony. Zebra. My bad.” Before she could react, he slipped the tooth into the golden rings she wore around her forelegs.

Zanza flinched away, and scooted backwards until she came up against a wall. "W-w-what are you?"

"I am many things, dear filly, you see, and known as many as well. I am a draconequus! A bringer of chaos, hilarity, and, well...disarray." He leaned forward, nodding seriously. "I'd elaborate further, but I'm not scheduled for a musical number until later. Take it up with the writer."

Abruptly, there was small bang and a flash, and where the draconequus had once stood, was now a very tall unicorn, the color of the underside of a cloud, with a pure white mane, that, along with the rainbow moustache,seemed to flow in a nonexistent breeze. The ridiculously colorful cloak it wore was whipped away as the pony flared its powerful wings wide, the long horn atop its head cracking with sparks and light.

"But wait, there's more! I am also Entropy! The former self-exiled Prince of Equestria, now returned after several millennium of absence!" he announced grandly, a dramatic breeze making his cloak flutter like a cape. He gave Zanza a wink. "I'm a walking, talking contradiction, and not the juicy, colorfully wrapped kind, either." The pony whirled around, rearing his hooves wide. "And all this for the wonderfully low price of 19.99! Call our toll-free hotline in the next ten minutes are receive a complimentary bobble head," he said mildly. "Plus shipping and handling." In another flash, the pony vanished, and the patchwork creature was in his place, idly inspecting his lobster claw as if nothing had happened.

Zanza stood there, gawping at him for a full half-minute.

“I-I-I don’t know what’s going on,” she finally wailed. “First I’m fine, I’m just looking for some food to bring back to eat, and then I got lost! Then the fire...but I get rescued up by Daring Do, for stars’ sake! And then, I get thrown across a river with a p-pack of weird diamond dogs, one of which talks with his mind! Finally, I end up inside a place that shouldn’t exist,” she gestured wildly with her hooves, near hysterics, now, “and that thing scared me so badly I hit it and I d-don’t know what’s going on! I just want my p-parents!” She finally broke down into sobs.

Through the tears, she heard the door to the wagon opening, before something picked her up and held her tight.

“Hush, now, quiet now

It’s time to lay your sleepy head

Hush, now, quiet now

It’s time to go to bed

Drifting off to sleep

The exciting day behind you

Drifting off to sleep

Let the good dreams find you.”

She remembered her mother singing that to her when she was still little and scared of the dark. When the lullaby had ended, Zanza found that she felt much better. She opened her eyes to find herself wrapped in a gentle embrace with Coconut, who was grinning at her warmly.

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, the stallion awkwardly placed her back on the ground as she sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Er. Sorry. But ye looked like ye needed a hug, right there."

A shuffle behind them alerted her to Echo as he made himself known, a faint smile on his muzzle as he left the doorway. He knelt down and offered a paw. She took it. “I know you have gone through a lot today young one, but please do not worry. I promise you that we will help you find your parents and get you to wherever it was you were going. Rest now, and we will explain everything to you in the morning.”

Zanza sniffled again. “You mean it?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” he made a rather silly motion with his free paw, somehow poking himself in the eye, “ow. Do not worry. A gentleman always keeps his promises.” He pulled back his hood to reveal a noble, wolfish face and gray eyes. One of his tufted ears had a deep, V-shaped gap in it. He winked at her. “That's just considered good manners, you know.”

Didn’t he mean a gentlecolt? Echo released her and went to go sit at the table, where an enormous map was spread out, covered in pins and notes and strings.

Coconut patted her on the withers. “Let’s get ye taken care of. We’ll get ye some aloe and find ye a place ta kip for the night. Oh! I know, ye can have the study!”

The monster called Disarray spoke up, looking somewhat offended. "Ahem. "

Coconut's eyes lit up. "Aw, don't worry, Dissy! Ye can stay in my room tonight!" He gasped, "we can have a sleepover and stuff!" He began to hop in place, an act that looked ridiculous given his impressive size.

Disarray nodded seriously. "Sleepover? I can dig that. We gon' stay up late, swappin' manly stories..." He suddenly gave a heroic pose, looking off in an arbitrary direction. "An' in the mornin'? I'm makin' waffles." With that, the creature spun on a heel and sprinted towards one of the doors on the opposite wall with a cry of "I call the top bunk!"

Zanza simply stared after him, until her head nodded forward in exhaustion. She was barely capable of keeping her eyes open. Coconut led her into another room and directed her to lay down on a narrow fold-down cot in the corner. Zanza glanced around her surroundings. The walls were stacked with more books than she had ever seen in her life. A thick desk in the corner was covered with strange glass appliances, tubes and bowls and all sorts of funny equipment. She took note of the fact that the floor surrounding the desk had the appearance of being scorched on more than one occasion.

“Here ye are, drink up!” Coconut passed her a healing potion. Zanza gulped it down. The stallion opened a jar up and, after a cursory sniff, dipped a hoof into it and began to spread a thin, blue, paste-like salve onto her burns. Zanza sighed at the blissful cooling sensation.

It was the last thing she felt before she fell asleep.

Achievement Unlocked! - "Do You Smell Bacon? I Smell Bacon."
Character Unlocked! - Zanza

- Perk: Striped Camouflage (+10 stealth in groups) Natural herd instincts let you blend in with the crowd. Put on a hood and get yourself a hidden blade, and you'd make a great assassin.
Ally Gained! - Coconut Fronds

- Perk(?): Coco-nutcase: (-5 intelligence, +10 Micheal J. Caboose) You're pretty much an idiot.
Region Discovered: The Ironwood Stands