Gusty lowered the shield she had cast out of pure instinct. Smoke and a haze composed of pulverized stone clouded the area. A spluttering bleat turned her eyes down to Gertrude, the old ewe’s brow was scrunched in concern as she strode forward into the unnatural fog still coughing. She followed her friend into the bluster hoping desperately that Bunker and Zeccaran were somehow alive. Gusty began flapping her wings trying to clear away the smoke as she approached, her nostrils catching the fetid stench of burnt flesh. Beating her wings harder she pressed on into the explosion’s main detonation zone squinting her burning eyes trying to overcome the feeling of dread.

“Gertrude! Do you see them?” she yelled over her wings’ constant beats. A deep grunt came from the ewe somewhere on her left. She adjusted her body and pumped her wings more revealing her companion pulling Bunker out from under a pile of broken stone. Above and around them the wall of mortar itself was on fire with an unnatural blaze. Gusty immediately hefted Bunker away from the location in her levitation, Gertrude silently nodded approving of her actions. She placed Bunker well outside the smoke field and turned around to see blood rolling along the ground towards where Gertrude stood peering towards the clearing haze. With the smoke rising away from the ground and now primarily coming from the walls Gusty could see bodies coming into view.

She felt herself gasp as she rushed towards the smallest of the forms, desperately charging up her healing spell. Kneeling down into a slide Gusty slipped right next to a blood-soaked Zeccaran looking over his body trying to determine where the blood had come from. She quickly realized that the gore covering him was not his own, the zebra was unconscious but otherwise unharmed. Around him pieces of the two guards were scattered about like confetti. Most of the pieces of flesh were partially burned or still on fire as Gusty held her nose shut with a hoof, desperately doing her best to not get sick at the smell.

Like Bunker, Gusty hefted Zeccaran out of the smoke with her levitation. She followed her quarry, hustling past the wretched stench of the poor guards, gasping for clean air once she was free of the smoke and haze. She laid her striped friend out before she began trying to slap him awake by shaking and buffeting him with her wings. He woke in a daze mumbling incoherently but was otherwise capable of moving as she stood him up. Gertrude had experienced similar success with Bunker, from what she could tell. The stallion stumbled around next to the ewe but remained upright as the four of them retreated towards the manor proper.

Armed rams and ewes of various sizes began pouring out of the manor. They carried with them great buckets of water strapped to their sides as they rushed towards the fires. They shouted angry questions in their thick brogues while passing each cast a confused glance at the disheveled party. Gusty sat there baffled as the Baylanders busily bustled unphased by the event, she barely noticed as two new Ram Guards took their position next to her and Gertrude, their curly horns glowing with what could only be magic. They held their swords and shields out away from them while pressing their bodies against the Dame as if they suspected another explosion to happen at any moment.

“Brothers an’ Sisters!” Gertrude’s voiced boomed as she climbed atop one of her guards. “Let not this attack fluster ye spirits!” The portion of the crowd that was not carrying water stopped, their fearful gazes turned to their leader. “I have brought before ye a legend to our people, our country’s, our freedom’s, mother, Gusty Twilight!” Gertrude bounced back on her rear legs as she waved at Gusty.

Hissing of flames lightly crackling reigned over the silence of the mixed herd of Ovis. All their eyes transfixed themselves on Gusty, each slowly criticizing every inch of her. She gave them her best smile, uncertain of her purpose or what Gertrude had in mind. They seemed unimpressed, their looks of surprise slowly converting to suspicion. Gusty responded with a simple, “Hello” and a wave of her hoof. It had been a distinctly large volume of time since her fellow beings had questioned who she was as a pony. Somewhere deep in her heart a spark of confidence grew into a flame, she needed something extraordinary, something that resonated with her faux-blood kinsmen. A cocky grin spread her lips as the perfect idea came to her as she located the largest ram in the group.

“You!” she yelled while pointing at him derogatorily. “I challenge you, for your rights to be a suitor! Step forth, we shall settle this now!”

The crowd instantly burst into laughter, many wholesale fell back on their rumps, all laughed except the ram she had goaded. He stepped out of the herd revealing his immense size and muscles. The laughter ceased almost immediately, their eyes wide with sudden anticipation and excitement.

“By what rights do yeh, be challenging meh, interloper.” The ram snarled as Gusty stepped forward to match him. “By the rights of my name, by the power in my blood, and by the honor in my heart.” she responded, casting a beam of magic into the sky to hide her intent.

There was no way she could beat a ram in a ritual honor duel without protecting her head. Their horns were too hard for her to properly just use brute strength, forcing her to instead use some guile and cheat. The flashy beam she cast gave her enough time to set up a see-through shield around her forehead and horn. The inertial armor of pony magic would provide her the perfect chance to win. Her opponent lowered his eyes back down to her after watching the beam dissipate in the clouds above.

“And what be yeh’s name, be it as the Dame claims? Gusty Twilight?” he said before spitting in her direction.

“Yes.” she retorted, spitting towards him.

“Aye.” he mulled, his frown turning into a wicked smile, “Then yeh’s honor shall be mine to claim, flim-flammer, prepare yehself.”

He began scratching at the ground, readying his first steps in the way only a ram could. Gusty bent her knees and braced her back hooves preparing to spring towards him just as soon as he began his charge. She knew how to perform a ritual duel, but it felt like she was digging through ancient texts trying to find the nuances necessary to not get herself killed even with her shield crutch. She did not get her chance to remember as her opponent lowered his head and began his run. Instinctually, Gusty forced her legs down and out breaking into a full spring across the short distance to match him. She angled her horn slightly above his skull in order to not gore him and be disqualified, for this was truly a challenge to see whose head was thicker.

Crehbraaak!

They impacted and bounced off of one another. Gusty shook her head clear to see the ram already backed up and making another shorter charge. She braced her legs and sprung at him with all her might.

Crehbraaak!

They collided again, Gusty backed away quickly her body hitting a zen of instinctual adrenaline. They charged one another, their horns and skulls coming together in regular loud cracks that echoed over the silent manor grounds as their peers watched in awe. Gusty lost count around twenty strikes, her body was sore from the stress and a vicious headache had risen long ago. Her opponent did not look much better, his eyes were unfocused, but his body kept lurching him forward compelled by evolution and honor to move without consent of his mind. They struck each other again, Gusty felt her back legs slump. She gritted her teeth and pulled herself upright. This next joust would have to be the last, or she would lose. She turned her tail to him backing away confidently, gazing over her left shoulder to make sure he did the same. Once in position she turned to face her opponent, he wobbled in a balanced dance of determination to win.

This time, Gusty patted at the ground with her front hooves, lowered her head and snorted in anger. A hoarse yell exited her throat as she flung herself toward the ram, her body screaming in burning lactational rejoice as she pushed herself in this workout.

Crehbraaak! Thwump!

Gusty grabbed her temples trying to alleviate the pain of her ringing ears and throbbing face. She opened her eyes to see her opponent unconscious on the ground his eyes closed, mouth open in forced slumber. She gawked in surprise, she had won. Tapping the shield on her head she felt the invisible barrier shatter and fall away unable to withstand even the slighted bump after the contest. She released a sigh as she began to smile only to nearly have the wind knocked out of her in the next second.

As she had let her guard down, an enormous cheer had erupted from the crowd as they rushed forward and hefted her onto their backs. “Gus-ty! Gus-ty! Gus-ty! Gus-ty!” they chanted over shrill shrieks of merriment and wonder. “She beat ‘im in twenty minutes! That’s a record!” shouted several rams at different times as they bounced her around the crowd’s soft woolen backs. Gusty wanted to talk back but it took everything she had just to not scream in pain from her headache, she smiled awkwardly as they carried her towards the manor. “She’s real! She’s real!” a ewe was shouting into her ear as they passed Gertrude and entered.

Her friend met her eyes and beamed with pride. “That’s right she be real!” she boomed over the crowd, “Our mother lass returned to help her herd!” The herd loosed a mighty roar in response. “An’ in this trying time we must’nt forget our traditions and honor and show Gusty Twilight all the hospitality that she hath missed!” Gusty found herself carted away into a long grey hall arranged with an equally long stained-pine table.

Out of nowhere the crowd promptly deposited a groggily awake Bunker and an equally confused Zeccaran on her left and right. They looked at her in general disturbance of mind, neither saying anything The herd that had brought them in excitedly dispersed their brogues running shrill as they ran out of different doors to the room rattling off ideas about what needed to be cooked or who would tell jokes and perform. Gusty returned to rubbing her temples, as a salad and beer was placed in front of each of them. Just as soon as the party favors had arrived did Gertrude and her two guard plop down with a heavy thud just across Gusty’s party.

The Dame of the Bayland’s shoved her face unceremoniously into her pile of greens and took a long drag off of her beer. “Now tha’ something I hath not seen in a good long time, Gusty lass!” she spake before burping in an especially rustic way that changed in pitch as she performed it. “I kennt not that ye had what it took, ye have seemed different since our reunion.”

She grunted in response, still not quite over her headache, but too stubborn to use magic to make it better. Instead, Bunker stepped in: “Wha--what did she do? What did I miss?” he asked looking at Gertrude in earnest.

“Yeah, last thing I remember was there was this huge explosion and I was surrounded by bodies...I actually thought I was dead, until I woke up to a crowd cheering.” Zeccaran also chimed in as he picked at his salad tepidly.

“Ahhh! Ye lads missed quite the treat! Gusty challenged Jarl MacGerson to a duel and she beat him!” Gertrude responded with a delighted gusto.

“What!?” the two males questioned in unison.

Her friend immediately began recounting the tale two her husband and her punching bag. She snickered to herself at her imposed description of Zeccaran. Meanwhile, Gertrude slammed her hooves on the table as she reached the first collision in her story. Gusty having lived the events look around the room to watch as the herd of sheep and rams began piling into the long table, many gathering close as the Dame retold the tale they had all just witnessed. Vaguely Gusty recalled Gertrude to be an excellent story-teller, she possessed a sharp animation and broad use of adjectives that was impossible for the writer to accurately describe in her delicate brogue. Bunker and Zeccaran sat in awe as Gertrude slammed her hooves down again to depict the final meeting of skulls.

“An’ she knocked laddie MacGerson out cold!” the crowd roared in applause and laughter as Gertrude hopped all the way onto the table and kicked plates everywhere. Gusty smiled and cheered at her own applause, finally over her headache.

“Where be the beleaguered Jarl, anywho?” Gertrude shouted over the crowd, “He be owing me a drink for tha’ foolish wager he made those five years ago!” the herd of Ovis laughed again in their thick accents up until a the sharp sound of the hall’s oak doors opening caused them to stop. The whole group fell instantly silent as all eyes swung towards the ram at the door. Gusty bit her lip to refrain from laughing at him. It was MacGerson and on his back he carried a massive cask.

“I heard yeh’, I heard yeh’, you infernal Golden menace of a Dame!” He grumbled harshly as he wobbled towards the table with his gigantic parcel. He gave it a bounce into the air with his back legs and the cask landed on the table just before Gertrude. Its clammering and shattering of plates loud over the silence of the crowd. Unable to take the quiet any longer Gusty grabbed her beer, took a deep breath, slammed it down, promptly refilled it from MacGerson’s keg and held it aloft for all to see. The crowd look at her, the slightest, “ahhh” rising from them as they watched her carefully. She looked over the room narrowing her eyes as she stood up on the bench making sure she had everyone complete attention. In the far side of the room she spotted a group of instrumentalists staring at her, bows on fiddles and mouths on pipes. Gusty quickly slipped the stein up to her lips and chugged the whole thing just like she had done her first. As soon as she finished she turned to guarantee her aim was free of innocent obstacles and threw the ceramic mug as hard as she could at the ground.

It shattered into millions of pieces almost as fine as dust Waiting until the exact instant the the sound of busting plaster stopped, Gusty screamed: “Let the festivities!-Begin!” The herd roared in approval as the musicians started playing and dozens of sheep in the packed room began dancing to the bouncy music.

The party that ensued was one the majority of which Gusty could not remember. The music continually got louder to try and compensate for the increasing volume of the crowd. The entirety of MacGerson’s giant keg was emptied and another two just like it quickly followed. Somewhere in the midst of the clamor of eating, drinking, and making out with Bunker, Gusty was fairly certain her hosts had put on a bit of theatre and acting. It was a rousing good time, especially the bits she would be able to recall later. The event lasted for hours until the only beings not collapsed from exhaustion and alcohol were Gusty, Gertrude, Bunker, and somehow, someway, Zeccaran. Gusty picked her head up from the table where she had been resting it, noticing that the final fiddle had stopped playing and cast an amused look to her zebra friend.

“Hhhehow?” she slurred dramatically at him as she draped herself over Bunker.

Zeccaran took a long sip of his beer, set it down with an astute grace, and turned to meet her eyes. “I used to drink…” he belched, “a lot.” he finished with a smart grin.

Gertrude said something so amazingly slurred and broguish that all Gusty could do was laugh at her. The old ewe made rude gestures as Gusty replied, “I-I can’t understand.anything you said!” Gertrude rolled her eyes, slumped forward, and started snoring like the rest of her herd. Gusty kept laughing which caused her husband to start too, his giggles unfortunately caused him to spill his mug of beer down his front and all over the table. This resulted in even more laughing which probably lasted too long for any normal sober mind. It was all quite relaxing and enjoyable. Gusty relished such moments, they seemed to be depleting in frequency and quality, but ones like this one made it all worth it in the end.

The door to the long hall gave out its creaky wail and Gusty, sat up to look down the table to see who had come tardy to the party. The sight she saw confused her greatly. In the big arched doorway stood a small hooded figure, a dark presence clearly floating around the being. Gusty gawked at the new uninvited individual as it stalked angrily into the room closing the door behind it.

“Hey!” she shouted to the figure, “Who...are you?!”

The hooded character spat in her direction. Gusty gasped at their audacity. It was incredibly rude to perform such a garish gesture. She drew in a deep breath ready to impart the knowledge of respect into the hapless individual that had slighted her. It was going to be the best stern-talking-to that anyone had ever received, that is what she thought she would do, but that was before an enormous burst of magic knocked Gusty from her hooves. She looked up from the ground to find an billowing cloud of smoke taking up the area in front of the interloper.

“Die, tyrant Dame!” came the shrill voice of a young ewe from under the hood and cloak. Gusty did not recognize it, especially because she was still pretty drunk. Regardless of the sobering entrance of a belligerent individual, she was not sure if she would remember much of the evening.

In the next instant another bright flash of light caused her eyes to water in pain. When she wiped the tears away the hooded enemy had disappeared from existence. Gusty performed a double take, she surmised the ewe had some dark ability to teleport, not that it mattered in the end.

From the clearing smoke came a the growl a large predator, its guttural call like that of a great cat. Suddenly the growl was overtaken by the unmistakable hiss of a snake. Gusty swallowed hard fearful of what she was hearing, as she watched the silhouette of a large creature take shape. Then came a noise that was supremely confusing for her alcohol-addled mind, it was the bleat of a goat, sharp and distinct compared to her Ovis company that still they strewn about the floor. Gusty stood there aghast as the mutated beast before emerged into full vision.

The creature’s body was striped like that of a tiger’s, it’s front legs and paws match that theme as well. But from its chest protruded two heads, one the predator cat the other the head of a goat, its long slender horns sticking up away from its broad head and goatee. Cloven hooves and strong thighs, took up the back portion of the monster, matching only the goat’s tawny fur. Finally, and most disturbingly, the tail of the mutant was an enormous black cobra with sharp yellow eyes, that nearly glowed in the low light of the long hall. HIt raised itself up angrily hissing at Gusty its fangs out in their shiny ferocity.

Instinctively, Gusty drew her sword and began backing away from the creature as it turned all of its heads to focus on her.

“Hey! Is that a Chimera?” Zeccaran shouted from the table. He had hopped up on the surface and was wobbly looking at the abomination. His proclamation disturbed Bunker who flopped off of the bench in a daze, somehow landing on his hooves after his tumble.

Gusty tried to motion for them to be quiet, but the Cobra tail turned and hissed at them, the Tiger and the Goat remaining transfixed with her. The Goat lowered its head while its shoulder-mate loosed a full roar as the Chimera charged at her. Gusty grimaced in painful acceptance as she realized she was not going to be able to dodge the charge. The brought her sword in front of her and prepared to take the blow. Just as the long piercing horns of the Goat got near her, she knocked the creature’s head away avoiding becoming impaled, but it was only a partial success. The wind exited her lungs as the body of the Tiger pinned her to the ground and the big cat wrapped his jaw around the collar of her mail, just at her lower neck, his reach impaired by the Goat’s horns which were stuck in the wooden floor. It was the only thing that saved her from having her neck broken as she tried to breathe again.

The weight of the monster was suddenly lifted off of her as a burgundy blur impacted it and sent the Chimera skidding across the floor in a heap. Bunker, now next to her, reared up on his hind legs screaming, “Da! Take that freaky animal!” in his thick accent. The Chimera picked itself up just as a mug hit the Tiger head in the face pushing shattered ceramic in its eyes, eliciting a roar of pain from that portion of the creature.

“Have a drink, ya great big jerk!” Zeccaran shouted from his position on the table. Gusty smiled at her husband and Zeccaran, most pleased that they were definitely going to pull their weight. Bunker turned and helped her up, nudging her wayward sword towards her. It was then that the Chimera loosed its mixed battlecry

It was a horrid screeching noise that grew in volume and timbre as it persisted. The power of the scream exploded the high windows of the long hall sending glass everywhere. Its intense volume caused Gusty to grab her ears in an attempt to keep her eardrums from popping as the powerful waves of sound crashed into her for almost twenty straight seconds, preventing her or her party from moving. When the Chimera finished the room of previous sleeping drunks called forth in pain and horror as the disheveled mass of Ovis clambered this way and that trying to avoid the monster that had made the loudest noise.

Gusty kept holding her ears as she turned to see Gertrude being drug out of the room by her guards. She was bitterly complaining about not getting to help them defeat the beast that was sent there to kill her. She nodded approvingly to the guards as they performed their duty, Gertrude needed to be protected if the Baylands were to have a successful transition to peace once this partisan conflict was resolved. The shattering of another beer mug turned her eyes back at the Chimera. Zeccaran now ran down the length of the long table his face terrified as he tried to out pace the Chimera, as they approached them.

“I’m going to kick -hicc- that stupid thing so hard it can’t run any..anymore...ayy..” Bunker grumbled drunkenly next to her as he hopped up onto the table as well. Gusty momentarily pouted as she hefted up her sword in her magic, before readying to strike the Chimera after Bunker was to kick it. She wanted to be the one to do cool stuff, if she was being honest though she was probably too drunk to manage anything.

The Chimera passed by her, the Cobra tail hissing and spitting at her as it chased Zeccaran and headed towards Bunker’s trap. The venom landed mostly on her skirt which was upsetting to begin with because it made it look like she had no control over her bladder. However, things got immediately worse when the poison began burning away the cloth like a forest fire would a dry woods. She hastily pulled the garment off making sure not to touch the virulent acid, before tossing it on the ground. She looked back up to see Bunker land a solid rear leg buck into the Chimera’s chest, it flopped off the table wincing in pain as it backed away from the two stallions. Gusty realized this was her chance, she looked at her sword and extended her wings.

She made a flying charge at the creature, raising her blade high with her magic, ready to slash down with the force of her flight and her levitation. She passed over the disoriented Cobra who was being sat on and made her strike. She aimed her blade for the head of the Goat, hoping to disable that portion of the creature. She watched her sword’s leading edge slice into the neck of the Goat causing crimson to fountain up and away from the strike. The blade’s weight caught her levitation rebounded off of bone and she passed on by the Chimera. When she landed and turned to face it, Gusty saw blood streaming from the back of the Goat’s neck and more red liquid running from its nose, its head hung limply by the Tiger’s. The back legs of the Chimera slipped slack and the Cobra reared up its full length to support the Tiger and the rest of its disabled backside.

A splitting headache caused Gusty to crumple to the ground as the pain from her ringing ears suddenly spiked to the forefront of her consciousness. She could only vaguely hear the Tiger roar angrily as she tried to overcome the return of her full hearing. Zeccaran seemed to be suffering from the same return as she was while Bunker was busy ignoring the battle altogether. He appeared to be searching for something under the long table, what it was Gusty had not the foggiest notion. She ignored her drunk husband’s actions instead readying to continue the fight.

The Chimera drug its body towards her growling and hissing as it approached, unwilling to give up or flee. Gusty flapped down with her wings trying to regain her aerial advantage, but somehow the beast managed to make a short lunge at her, the Tiger’s maw kept from closing on her neck only by her sword and sheer luck. The great claws of the big cat scratched through her armor and poked into her ribs with supernatural force causing her to shriek in pain.

The Cobra’s head suddenly flashed over the top of the Tiger’s and bit her between the ears with precision ferocity. Panic forced her to instinctively buck her back legs as she screamed in horror at being bit by the snake. In the same instant her kick impacted the limp back legs and stomach of the Chimera and sent it flying away from her. She blinked in surprise as the beast was knocked away shocked she had suddenly become the world’s strongest mare in her terror.

She was quickly distracted from her surprise by a flash of Zeccaran’s trademark green magic. When she gazed towards her friend instead of the Zebra she was accustomed with a massive eagle had taken his place, just like he had done when they had first gotten to Canterlot. This time the great bird loosed a fearsome cry before snatching the Chimera in its talons. The Zec-Eagle barely had enough room to fly but somehow it managed to fly up to the vaulted ceiling of the long hall. At the peak height it performed a flip and slammed the Chimera down on the ground where it groaned in pain and laid haggardly breathing. Gusty nodded in approval, pleasantly astonished with Zeccaran’s action and ability.

The Zec-Eagle floated down to the table and produced another flash of green light before returning to normal. Her friend lay out on the table heaving in as much air as he could clearly unable to move. “Alright...I’m done….can’t do anymore...please keep it from killing me.” he groaned from his location.

Gusty was just about to start chastising him when she was interrupted. “Ah ha!” Bunker screamed triumphantly. She looked over at him to see him wielding his axe with a delighted grin. She did not get a chance to make a rebuttal or even moment to think, her husband bounded over the long table making a quick trot to the withering Chimera. Once next to the abomination he raised the axe up with a fury of a desperate stallion burning in his eyes. He brought the big blade down into the center of the beast, cutting deep down it's Tiger/Goat split. Blood and gore flew up and away from the axe as he dislodged it and swung down again. A thick squishing splatter of flesh being rent and bone breaking filled the hall. More viscera flew up onto Bunker’s face making Gusty blink in surprise at his ferocity.

He kept hacking at the body with his long-handled blade, his face twisted in a bitter determination to ensure that the Chimera was dead. Gusty made a wobbly flight over the top of the long table and Zeccaran trying to approach her husband. “Bunker! Stop!” She shouted at him as he continued to assault the bloody carcass and its now spilling innards. She yelled again to no avail making her feel disoriented, as if she was a ghost yelling at a relative. Eventually, she yanked the axe out of Bunker’s grip with her magic. In response he flopped down on his rump breathing like he had just completed a marathon.

“It...khhhehhp!” he coughed, “It needed to die...had...had to make sure.” he panted out. He looked at her his face weary for a brief moment before he smirked into a wry blood-soaked grin. Gusty had always had a good feeling about Bunker and his abilities, but she was pretty certain this had just taken the proverbial cake. Maybe not the most perfect stallion, but he was one that did his job and did efficiently, she could not help but smile back at him.

“I donn’t care what yer job be ye persistent ne'er-do-wells! I haffa help Gusty!” Gertrude’s voice boomed in extra brogue over the moment she was having with her husband. The Dame appeared through one of the doors followed by the same pair of Ram Guards her face in a sharp scowl.

“Gusty Twilight the cavalry hath arrived!” she yelled as she charged for about five paces. She slowed down and gave Bunker and the broken body of the Chimera a once over before stopping altogether her face locked in astonishment.

“You are getting slow, Gerty.” Gusty smiled at her friend-daughter. Gertrude just wobbled there gawking still just as drunk as Gusty was suddenly starting to feel like. With the fight over and her heart starting to slow the world truly started spinning and she fell on her backside as she tried to remained focused on the Dame ewe.

“Ah--I be...it seems I be, dear Gusty lass.” Gertrude looked down to the ground with a grimace. She rubbed her forehead and loosed a long sigh before turning around. “Yeh two! Take Gusty an’ ‘er husband to der their room! And carry that sleepy Zebra too!” the Dame commanded. She gave Gusty a short but appreciative nod before turning around and slowly plodding away as her guards came to help. Just as they began showing Gusty and Bunker where to go the ewe spoke up from the edge of the door. “On the ‘morrow we haff much to discuss Gusty Twilight...much to discuss.” she said shaking her head somberly before disappearing.

Gusty waved with a intoxicated giggled and leaned on her husband. Bunker leaned back smiling at her a fleck of Chimera flesh stuck to his fur below his right eye. She reached up with a hoof and cleared it from his face with a quick flick of her ankle. She looked over him again wondering about the stallion she loved and his quiet demeanor. The guards opened the door to their room and practically shoved them inside before slamming the door shut behind them. Clearly, the guards were not very good a partying.

She pushed her husband towards the broad bed that inhabited the simple room. “Let me just clean you up.” she cooed provocatively at him. Gusty took the top bedsheet of in her magic and brought it over to herself. She used it to start wiping all the extra gore off of Bunker starting up at his face and slowly making her way down his body as she forced him onto the bed. He chuckled in approval as they landed together, but it was a chuckled quickly overridden by a sharp gasp of pleasure. Gusty, when put in the mood, had a tendency to be particularly needy, craving certain tastes and pleasures that only a mare could experience.

Bunker after his initial surprise quieted down and enjoyed her endeavors. She wanted to congratulate him for rather deftly turning her on, actions were stronger than words of course, and it was very hard to talk with her mouth full. It had been about a year-and-a-half since they were married and Gusty knew his limits, and knew that he could keep going so she finished him off before making a simple declaration: “Take me.” She smiled deviously as his eyes widened before he clasped her with his hooves and rolled them into a location where he was on top.

Once in position, her husband wasted no time following that instruction. He had gotten quite good at pleasing her and vice versa. Gusty felt especially gratified by him, with the adrenaline rushes she had been experiencing all day and the alcohol, she had expected to be satisfied properly, but not the current grand experience. However, all things, especially the great ones, come to an end and Bunker fell on the bed next to her. They cuddled each other closely having finished their love-making, slowly drifting to sleep. In the semi-consciousness Gusty mused that maybe she simply forgotten how good things felt, or perhaps it was something else? She drifted to sleep peacefully agreeing that whatever it was that it was a problem for “Future Gusty” to handle and she would just enjoy the wonderful sensation of bliss she felt as she fell fully unconscious. Today had been an exceedingly good day.

Next Chapter: Act 2: Chapter 4 - Delusions and Politics Estimated time remaining: 19 Hours, 4 Minutes