After four failed attempts to slip into the astral plane, Tarnish gave up. Each attempt had grown more frustrating and the feeling of being trapped in this wretched place became more and more unbearable. Closing his eyes, he thought of Maud. In his mind’s eye, he saw her, a slight curl to her mane, and he saw her as she was when she was looking up at him, her head upon a pillow, her mane spilled out around her. She was beautiful in these moments, when it appeared that gravity had no hold on her mane.

So strong was the memory that Tarnish could hear the sound of the bed creaking as he looked down upon her face, the soft rustle of flannel sheets, the sound of fabric and flesh rubbing as their bodies twined together. A soft warm bed, with fresh sheets and fresh blankets, bedding that did not smell. The scent of soap, of laundry detergent, the faint nasal tickle of Maud’s special sunscreen conditioner when he buried his muzzle into her taut, muscular neck in those final, frantic seconds.

Maud was a sexual creature and those heated moments approaching climax were one of the rare times that her face took on a bit of expressiveness. She was aggressive, demanding, she was everything an earth pony mate was promised to be in heated whispers during adolescent fantasies, or stereotypes read about in some trashy pulp novel. His beloved wife had a tendency to whinny as she approached climax, and those whinnies grew in both volume and intensity as the moment drew nearer.

Opening his eyes, Tarnish let out a sigh when he saw his reality. Damp bedding. A nauseating stench. A cramped, humid cave with no real room to move around. The sleeping area wasn’t flat, but rather bowl shaped and lumpy. The blankets and the mattresses were covered in crumbs and shed hairs. The wool blankets smelled wet and musty, like mushroom soup but worse.

“Do you hear that?” Daring Do asked, her voice a soft whisper.

Tarnish strained to listen, but heard nothing.

“The storm has stopped.” Daring Do sat up. “There’s still a little bit of daylight left, maybe. I wonder what it is like out there.”

Rainbow’s wings sprang out from her sides. “There is only one way to find out!”

The cave was half buried in fresh powder and Tarnish realised that they could suffocate, that the cave could become their tomb. It was too tight, too sealed off, and they needed a way to get air in and out, without losing too much heat. He stood near the entrance, looking up at the pale grey sky that was thick with puffy clouds.

The sun did not shine and it was freezing outside. It was already as cold it was during the middle of the night and it would only get colder. Knowing that there was work to be done, Tarnish busied himself, and he went over to where the sledge was buried in the powder. He had salvaged some of the metal piping and deck railing with the hopes of making a travois, a fancy sling made of two poles secured to his sides so that he could haul more stuff around.

Reaching beneath the snow with his telekinesis, he felt around, touching things, until at last he found what he was looking for. The long steel pipe was ideal, and he shook the snow off of it. The steel might leach a little heat, and some heat might be lost going up the pipe, but it would allow airflow and much needed oxygen to come in. Tarnish hoped it would also help the humidity problem.

Returning to the cave, he climbed up top, floundering a bit in deep powder, then felt around with his telekinesis a bit until he found a crack between the two stones that was stopped up with roots. The pipe was a bit bent, but it was about three yards long, and Tarnish was confident that the end of it would remain above the snow, no matter how much fell.

Grunting, he set to work.

Rainbow Dash was a crazy, crazy pony. She had gone back inside of the cave and then exited a few minutes later as naked as the day she was born. Tarnish watched her rolling in the fresh powder, amused by her antics, admiring her bravery, and worrying about her getting frostbite. He was also envious of the fact that she seemed to be getting clean, and he hated her just a teeny, tiny bit because of this.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEEE!” Rainbow cried when she couldn’t take it anymore, and quick as could be, she went careening off into the cave once more to get warm.

Tarnish stood there, staring at Daring Do, and Daring Do just stared back at him. “It’s like cloud bathing,” he heard Daring Do say. “Just thinking about it makes my teats hard!” Then, Daring Do brayed with laughter, and Tarnish found himself joining in. It was weird though, his response felt detached, and he wasn’t even sure if he found it funny. Still, he laughed, and in some strange way, he felt better.

Daring Do’s laughter came to an abrupt end, and her silence lasted only for a few seconds before she exploded with laughter again. Turning his head, Tarnish saw something that made his neck feel hot. Vinyl was somehow packing powdery snow into snow ponies, and these snow ponies were performing cunnilingus on one another. He stood there, blinking, taking it all in, and he laughed.

Aware that she was being watched, Vinyl held up her slate. More like funnilingus, if you ask me.

“Vinyl Scratch, you made abominable snow-perverts!” Daring Do was stomping in the snow and her laughter was muffled by her scarf. “Those are amazing!”

Tarnish felt it, real laughter bubbled up inside of him, not this weird, disconnected laughter that he had just experienced. There was also a sardonic reply on the tip of his tongue just begging to be let out. His boss had let her mane down, and Vinyl was making pornagraphic snow ponies. Somewhere inside of him, his own irrepressible nature was demanding to be let out.

“Daring, that comment was a little tongue in cheek, if you ask me.”

With a whoop, Daring Do fell over into the fresh powder and howled with laughter.

Outside, it was starting to squall again. Inside, the temperature was dropping, even with Vinyl’s collection of heated rocks. It was a little easier to breathe and it didn’t feel quite so damp now that there was a vent. Tarnish shivered, and it wasn’t just from the cold. A lingering sense of dread filled his being as the storm picked up intensity outside.

With a sigh, Vinyl ceased her studies, picked up her slate, and began writing on it with a piece of yellow chalk. While she wrote, Tarnish wondered what they would do if she ran out of chalk. For some reason, the idea of Vinyl running out chalk worried him far more than running out of food.

The wind was blowing with such force that the very ground around them creaked. Tarnish’s senses told him that something was wrong, he felt quite alarmed, and his two pegasus pony companions all but confirmed it. Both were out of sorts, nervous, and jittery. Things were tense, and made worse by strange social customs that Tarnish was unaware of.

Rainbow, filled with a desperate need to be clean, wished to preen her wings and had politely asked for everypony to turn away so she could have privacy. Tarnish had no idea that wing preening was a private act for pegasus ponies, and poor Rainbow had quite a difficult time. In the middle of it all, she broke down and started crying. From shame or humiliation, Tarnish had no way of knowing, but Daring Do had stared him into submission before he could turn around to comfort Rainbow. The plucky little pegasus mare kept going though, preening each feather while she sobbed, until she felt better about herself and her condition, and her sobs turned into sniffles.

At some point, Daring Do was going to want to preen her wings, and then things would get weird. Now that he was aware of the need for such things to be private, Tarnish felt a keen awareness of the fact that he would be sharing a space with his boss while she did something intimate with herself. He would hear things, the sound of preening, and would know that Daring Do was probably feeling more and more self conscious with each feather drawn through her lips.

It was said that you got to know a pony best when in crisis. Tarnish now knew Daring Do and Rainbow Dash. For him, it was the same logic that had drawn him and Maud together with Vinyl and Octavia. There were going to be intimate moments, close moments, tender moments, especially in the close confines of The Egg. The decision had been to just let it all hang out and allow things to happen without shame. From this, their relationship had evolved into something else, whatever it was now.

Tarnish’s musings were interrupted by a sudden explosion, a terrific equine-startling sound that made each of the companions jump. Daring Do actually lept into Tarnish and flung her forelegs around his long neck. Each of then now eyed the door, waiting, wondering what horrible death was coming for them.

The sound itself was indescribable and was loud enough to be heard over the howling demon wind. Nopony moved—nopony dared—and as much as Tarnish wanted to open the makeshift door to have a look, he knew that opening the door right now was a bad, bad idea. With that wind, the cold, opening the door would be a terrible idea.

He drew Flamingo from her sheath, and she let out a sleepy sounding yawn as she flooded the cave with warm, pink light. Each of the companions waited, for what they could not tell. Another explosion? The door being battered open by an army of equicidal automatons? The wind picked up outside, it screeched and made the most awful noises, and Tarnish was almost certain that he could feel the temperature dropping in the cave.

“Do you feel that?” Rainbow Dash whispered, and each word was accompanied by a puff of steaming breath. “The pressure is dropping.” More puffs of steaming clouds hovered near her muzzle. “This feels like a microburst… I’ve only encountered one once.” While she spoke, ice began to glaze over around the door with shiver-inducing crackles.

Outside, there was another explosion, and Daring Do let out a shrill yelp of terror. Vinyl, terrified, somehow managed to hold herself together so that she could reheat the rocks they used to keep the cave warm. Tarnish wrapped his foreleg around Daring, pulling her as close as possible, and the pair shivered against one another.

“What’s going on?” Flamingo asked. “Everything feels scary. Are we under attack?”

“I don’t know,” Tarnish replied, shaking his head. “It sure feels like it…”

Author's Notes:

Sorry this didn't make it out last night, I got sick and overcome with nausea.