Eventually, the Dust Devil did land on a small isolated part of the mainland’s shoreline, with the whole area being covered in a fine, thick mist thanks to the weather conditions that were often part and parcel to living near Mount Pleasant Island. However, this pea soup-like fog did lend itself to making the landing as quiet as possible, with the Dust Devil going unnoticed as it landed on the beach.

“Fucking great!” Nimbus shouted from somewhere in the mist, not even caring that Starglow was well within earshot, or that Twilight smacked him over the back of the head. “More fog! And I thought we were through with the damn stuff as soon as we left that damned island!”

Several small stinging zaps hit him in the left hind leg.

“...Real fucking hoot and a half, this is,” Nimbus muttered to himself, his temper thoroughly flayed from his experiences on the island. If he were in a better mood, he probably would have restrained himself, knowing perfectly well this was a good way to give away their position -fog or no fog- and either get shot full of holes, or become some Fog Crawler’s dinner.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say he’s pissed…” Riptalon muttered to Henri.

“Master of being Captain Obvious, you are,” she replied, in a flat tone of voice towards the massive griffon. She too had started to share Nimbus’ suspicions that he wasn’t a regular griffon, and possibly at least a portion Ursagryph. Sure, there was sexual dimorphism among griffons, but Riptalon’s size was ridiculous even for a griffon male! Then again, it was entirely possible he’d spent a little too much time around radioactive waste, and had mutated a little. Who’s to say, really?

“If his eyes start glowing a deathly red or yellow or something like that, then we’ll know,” Henri thought. “But, till then…”

“Celestia, it’s cold…” Starglow shivered, with Twilight using a wing to bring her closer to her, with Starglow lovingly nestling herself in the Alicorn’s soft downy feathers.

“Well, we could always find an Angler or two, and cut ‘em open and sleep inside their guts for the night…” Nimbus suggested. “Bound to be a few ‘round here somewhere. Just look for a light lurking within a patch of weeds.”

“Yeah, we know how to find Anglers, it’s just we’re not that desperate… yet.” Riptalon replied, with a small shudder at the sheer idea of sleeping inside a dead Angler’s carcass.

“Suit yourself,” Nimbus replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m just being practical.”

“Practical as the solution is,” Henri replied. “I’m not entirely sure we’d be able to find a body that could fit our resident Alicorn here,” she continued, gesturing to Twilight, who’d lit up her horn lasting a small purple glow to cut through the fog. “Or Riptalon for that matter.”

“No small matter in his case,” Nimbus commented. “I’ll just use his body as a big fluffy pillow like last time!” he laughed.

Eventually, the group made their way up the beach up a small hillside path, and wandered over a small bridge that was over a small stream that trickled down into the sea below. In the distance, waves could be heard crashing up against the rock walls.

“...You’re really not going to let that one go, are you?” Riptalon asked in a resigned, and somewhat saddened tone, as laughter came from all around him. Who he was talking to or why he seemed somewhat forlorn, no-one had a clue honestly, as the massive griffon seemed to stare off into the distance at nothing in particular. He quickly recovered, and turned to Henri.

“Speaking of resident Alicorns, how exactly are we going to hide Twilight’s presence from everyone?” he asked. “Alicorns are one thing, yes, but an Alicorn that just so happens to look like the supposedly dead Twilight Sparkle?”

“Technically, I am dead,” Twilight remarked as she picked up a lantern hanging off a small post and handed it to Nimbus after lighting it with a small purple fire. “But I see your point. Relax, I’ll figure something out,” she commented, before she let a smile reach her face as she saw a piece of tarp lying on the ground, and pulled it over herself. “Not the best choice of fashion, I admit, but it’ll do. Best thing? One advantage to being a giant unicorn is that few bother you with why you are a giant unicorn,” she said sagely before she frowned. “Huh, looks like Lacunae’s personality is kicking up again. Seem to remember her remarking on that once, somewhere in this head of mine.”

“Well, she’s got a point,” Riptalon admitted. “Worst thing we’ll probably get asked is why someone who’s with the NCR chooses to wear tarp as a fashion choice and make themselves look like a Raider.”

“You’ve seen Raiders wear tarps?” Twilight asked, looking towards him.

“You’d be surprised what kind of idiotic fashion statements ponies and such wear when they get desperate,” he remarked with a small laugh, before Riptalon quickly realized who he was talking to and backtracked. “N-no offense intended, of course!”

“None taken,” Twilight replied with a small nod. “In all fairness, I am sorta desperate…”

Then, a thought came to her, and she stopped in her tracks as she put a hoof to her chin.

“Something wrong, Auntie Twilight?” Starglow asked worriedly. Twilight smiled a little -one of those small, sad smiles she was so fond of- at being called an aunt before she sighed.

“Yeah, it’s just I remember a Stable was built out here, or somewhere close to here,” Twilight replied. “Provided memory doesn’t fail me in my old age.” she joked.

“How’d you know a Stable’s out here?” Henri asked, in a tone of exasperation. “We don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

“I do now.” Twilight replied, gesturing to a nearby sign that read: “Welcome to Horseshoe Bay!” complete with a cheesy image of a pony smiling far too happily for anyone’s liking and kicking a beach ball over a net.

“...Well, suppose that’d do it wouldn’t it?” Riptalon deadpanned. “Suppose we can’t just knock on the Stable doors like a little bunch of Filly Scouts only without the cookies and uniforms and ask if we can get a place for us to stay for the night?”

“Or in his case, Missionary Stallion,” Henri quipped pointing with a claw towards Nimbus, laughing a little at the image of Riptalon in a Filly Scout’s uniform going up to a door and selling cookies.

“Ex-Missionary stallion,” Nimbus corrected. “But I see your point. We’re a rag-tag bunch, a motley crew and Celestia above, we must look like crap covered in blood, mire, and Celestia-knows-what-else. I doubt anypony’s going to just welcome us into their humble abodes with open forelegs.”

“Well, only one way to find out,” Henri replied. “Lead the way, Twilight.”

Eventually, they reached the massive stable doors, the number long ago rendered illegible by centuries of rain and wind. Riptalon, half expecting for mini-turrets or something else to pop up out of the ground and rip him to shreds, -He’d long ago figured out how paranoid some Stable-Dwellers could be, not that he could blame them at times- carefully knocked on the door with his Novasurge rifle.

It broke in half from how forcibly it was used, but Riptalon didn’t mind. He’d found it an unneeded encumberment anyways, and more to the point he hated them for who they belonged to and what kind of message they generally sent out if you were carrying one. Usually something along the lines of: “I bring trouble your way, shoot me full of holes if you want to live!” more often than not.

Riptalon waited for a few minutes, expecting the turrets or something to pop up out of the ground, before he let out a sigh of relief when no such thing happened. Mind you, the door didn’t open either, but he was still alive.

“There, you happy?” Riptalon asked angrily. “Bunch of jackasses, standing around in the cold foggy rain, in front of a Stable door which will not open, and the only reason I’m probably still alive is that the self-defense mechanisms didn’t kick in! Bet you guys and gals think this is real funny, don’t you?”

“Well, if you’re not dead…” Nimbus trailed off in that emotionless tone of his. “Sadly, no. It isn’t funny in the slightest.”

Riptalon blanched, for the briefest of moments seeing a pure black pony in Nimbus’s place, while everyone else stared at the pegasus.

“...You’ve got issues Breaker.” Target remarked.

“Oh, so you’re just now you’re figuring this out?” Nimbus snapped, his tumultuous mix of emotions finally boiling over and exploding. “I’m an ex-missionary assassin pony who used to work for a lunatic who thought Celestia was on his side as he slaughtered anyone who wasn’t a member of the Enclave! And, I might add, a pony who barely escaped him and lost his brother in the damn process! So yes, of course, I’ve got a few issues!” he roared, barely holding back tears as he threw a hoof up in the air in frustration. “You think I asked for my life to turn out this fucked up!?!”

As the dam finally broke, and Nimbus started crying, he found two massive purple wings wrapped around him as Twilight pulled him into a hug, and he, for whatever reason snuggled into her chest fur as he cried.

“Shh…” Twilight whispered, rubbing the back of his head with a wing. “It’s alright, my little pony. I’m here. I’m here…” she told him, sounding almost exactly like one would imagine Princess Celestia used to. “Just let it out, just let it all out.”

“I… I don’t…” Nimbus sobbed, unable to actually form coherent sentences. “I never wanted…”

“I understand,” Twilight whispered. “And it’s okay, I’m here. You, you needed this, didn’t you? Somepony to just talk to, someone who actually understands what you’re going through,”

“How… How can you understand me?” Nimbus choked out, his voice rather raspy and raw. “You didn’t grow up in Coltlumbia, get indoctrinated into the Enclave’s madness and do what I did.”

“Maybe not,” Twilight said softly, kindly. “But I have to live with the fact that no matter what anyone says, or tries to tell me otherwise, I’m partially responsible for the fact that Equestria went to Hell in a Bucket, as the saying goes. And that, I think is even worse than any atrocities you may have committed under Stormy’s regime. If I hadn’t screwed up, he never would have come to power, his ideology may never have begun. May have been stopped as soon as he even thought of it. Who knows, in a different world, you, me, and Riptalon probably would have met under far happier circumstances. I probably would have been all too proud to have you in my personal guard, alongside F-Fizzlepop,” Twilight whispered, stumbling over the words of her lost love. It was clear, even two hundred years and one other marefriend later, she still loved her. “You three, you might have been quite the team.”

“Yeah, might have,” Nimbus whispered. “Like you said, who knows? C-Constants and Variables, right?” he asked, remembering what those two ponies with a bird and a cage for Cutie Marks often liked to spout off.

“Yeah, maybe,” Twilight told him. “You going to be okay now?”

“Far from it, probably never will be completely,” Nimbus admitted. “But I’ll probably be a little less screwed up now. Depends on what happens when Stormy’s in the ground, because mark my words, I will be the one to put him there. Mark me,” he growled out, “So mark me, I will put Stormy Skies, and anyone who follows him in the ground, and show them just why Stormy saw it fit to nickname me: ‘Morningstar.’ You know what they say about death being a pale horse?” he asked. “Maybe he’s not just that, at least to these arseholes.”

Needless to say, a few took a step or so back from him.

“Uh, Twilight,” Henri asked nervously. “Might want to cover yourself back up. Just saying, in case someone does answer.”

“Good point,” Twilight admitted, throwing the tarp back over her wings. Just then, as lights began to flash orange, the massive cog shaped device that functioned as the Stable door began to slowly slide open.

“Oh, so now it opens!” Riptalon exclaimed.

A strange metal rod was tossed outside. With a note on it, in fact. Said metal rod ended up hitting Riptalon on the head. Rubbing his forehead in pain, and muttering none too kind words under his breath, Riptalon read the note. It read: “Be like a unicorn and screw off.”

“Oh, cute, real cute,” Riptalon muttered. “Lovely, the one Stable we come to, probably for miles even, wants us to get lost! Gawd, I’m probably going to die surrounded by the biggest bunch of idiots in the Wasteland! Thank you, Twilight, for directing us to this place!” he snapped.

An old stallion stood in front of the door. “Forgive the young ones, they don’t wish to see outside creatures.”
“Creatures!?!” Henri balked, looking rather offended.

“Miss, what do you want me to say? I haven’t ever seen any of your species before.” The old stallion replied softly, coughing as he did so.

“Fair point…” Henri grumbled. “Listen, what seems to be the issue? Maybe we can help.”

She noted the distrustful look the older stallion gave her when he saw her NCR garb.

“Well, there is one issue. It’s your attire…” the older stallion said slowly, before there was the cocking of a gun’s hammer. A young unicorn mare aimed her pistol at Henri she looked so upset at the fact she was here.

“Are you here to steal more of us?!” The unicorn mare held the gun in her magic like she never held a gun in her life. She was panicked, and it showed, Henri’s eyes widened, she’d seen that panic somewhere before, and she knew where.

“Piss off a mother at your peril…” She thought.

The old stallion forced the mare back. He then turned back to them wearing a weak smile.

“I am sorry about that but an NCR group stole some of our young ones to make their marijuana. We mean you no harm miss...”

“Henrietta Firebright. Well, you don’t, but her?” Henri asked. “Let me explain something to you,” she told the young mare as she carefully took a few steps forwards, tossing her pistols aside. No sense in looking like any more of a threat than she already did.

“S-Stay back!” the mare shouted, but Henri continued slowly walking forwards.

“Please tell me she’s finally lost her mind…” Riptalon muttered, but Target shook her head.

“No, I think I know what she’s doing. Let her talk.” the sharpshooter replied.

“I need to explain something to you about something. Take the way you hold your weapon. Ever been to a firearms safety course in your life? Two things tell me you haven’t,” she remarked. “One, you're holding the gun sideways. You can't aim it, and two, it'll eject the cartridge right into your face.”

“Sugar, please lower the weapon and allow her to help you. Maybe she can get your foal back. Then we can welcome them here like we did with those two others who came along this way,” the older stallion suggested. Henri raised an eyebrow at the mention of two others but brushed that thought aside for the moment.

“You know, if I were younger, I’d ask to get paid in caps, as I’m hardly one of Velvet Remedy’s little Followers, not that you’d know who they are I suspect,” Henri told them both. “But times have changed, I’m a little older and wiser now, and to be honest, I do know what it’s like to care for a child. Your foal, what’s his name?” she asked Sugar kindly.

Sugar lowered the gun. What was odd though the gun didn’t have ammo in it. Henri noted that and shook her head. Brave mare, if a bit foolish. “His late father named him Brewer. Since my husband was a tea brewer.”

“Unimaginative, but okay. I’ve heard stranger, I suppose…” Henri admitted. “So, this little group of NCR soldiers, where do they like to grow their weed? Any ideas?” she asked the elder of the two ponies.

The older stallion walked to the Griffon lifting up his pip-buck. He brought up the map showing a farmhouse not that far from here. “Right there,” he said.

“You’ll have your children back by nightfall,” Nimbus replied, reading the name off. It made the location out to be as somewhere named Hollow Shades. “Mark me on that.”

“If you can do this without any bloodshed, I’d be pleased. We may dislike what they have done. But there is too much death in this world. So do an old stallion’s heart proud, and do this without the blood,”

“Shame really, as I have some frustrations to vent, and I really hate those who besmirch a good organization's name, but we’ll see what we can do. However, don’t expect much. I have a really itchy trigger hoof,” Nimbus replied.

“I can understand, I do hope though if you do try to kill them that you try to do it without the eyes of the little ones seeing. Nightmares and all you know it’s not wise for the young to have them.”

“That… that I can understand…” Nimbus muttered, looking towards Starglow. He nudged her forwards to the old stallion. “Can you take care of her for the time being Mr…?”

“Oh, my name! Shame on me!” the older stallion apologized. “My name is Flamethrower. It’s a long story, and I’m not really part of this stable,” He chuckled. “Been here for years though.”

“Take care of her,” Nimbus growled out warningly to Flamethrower. “If I find even a scratch on her when we get back...” he snarled, giving Flamethrower quite the death glare.

“I understand sir. No need to worry yourself. I’m no longer rushing headlong into the Hoof burning everything.” He laughed.

“So, next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’ve met this ‘Blackjack’, right?” Nimbus asked. He was met with only laughter.

“No, I left way before then. I left with a ghoul detective for awhile. He needed me for a case. So I just thought of staying away from there after that.” Flamethrower replied.

“Fairly understandable,” Henri nodded before she turned to the group and grabbed her pistols. “Now ante up!”

Hollow Shades:

Hollow Shades, it wasn’t a town. It was a ruined mess. If there were any buildings ever here, they certainly weren’t left standing now. Just foundations, and old stone pathways littered with rubble.

“Geez, we always seem to end up in the nicest of places, don’t we?” Target remarked sarcastically as they entered the town proper, Twilight having cast an invisibility spell on herself. She tended to stick out. “Ghost towns, deadly islands, old laboratories and now this place!”

“Yep, we’ve cornered the market on creepy,” Nimbus deadpanned. “Next thing you know, an old factory for one of the Ministries!”

“Hold up!” Henri hissed out as she motioned for everyone to hide behind a ruined wall. “Look up ahead. Guard on patrol.”

Sure enough, there was a member of the NCR walking near what had to be only of the only buildings left standing, pistol in hand. Quickly and quietly, Nimbus crept up behind him and knocked him out with a swift blow to the head. Smirking, he picked up the pistol. Nothing special, but it’d do. He’d worked with worse.

“So, we adding Klepto to your list of crimes?” Riptalon teased.

“Pretty sure I already got that added to me a long time ago,” Nimbus snarked back. “Now, if I was a huge collection of pot, where would I be kept? Someplace nice and warm, preferably between 24 to 30 °C. You’d need nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium added to the soil amongst other things.”

“Sounds like you know a thing or two about it,” Riptalon remarked.

“Eh, I may have grown some during my wild teenage years…” Nimbus admitted. “But enough of that. Still have any explosives on you?”

“Is facing a Deathclaw head-on suicide?” Riptalon asked rhetorically. “Course I do, never leave home without them. You planning to blow those plants sky high?”

“Yeah, burn ‘em. Wasteland’s screwed up enough without ponies dealing in Cannabis,” Nimbus growled.

“Wow, you’re actually starting to sound like a productive member of society!” Riptalon exclaimed in shock.

“Well, blame it on you and Henri. You two are starting to rub off on me. Probably why I haven’t shot you dead before now. Now, we, that being me and Henri, we move into the main farmhouse, quick and quiet and deal with the boss behind this little venture. You, however, I’ve got a different plan in mind. Get the kids, and get out before blowing that pothouse sky high, understand?”

“Got it,” Riptalon nodded. “I assume you want Target and Twilight to stay back in case things go sour?”

Nimbus nodded. “Now, normally I’d live and let be, as I understand ponies need to make a living somehow. Hell, even dealing drugs if need be, if only for medical uses. But doing it just because they want to smoke a joint, and getting kids involved? Congrats, they’ve signed their own death warrant.”

“Keep this up, and I might just actually start to like you…” Riptalon remarked. “God, I’m probably going to smell like a junkie in the morning aren’t I?”

“Probably,” Nimbus remarked.

Eventually, after a couple more minutes of arguing from the twosome, next thing the NCR soldiers knew was Henri and Nimbus busting inside the farmhouse, quickly kneecapping them with shots from their pistols.

“Relax, you’ll heal up. Maybe.” Henri commented as she reloaded. Nimbus meanwhile, grabbed the lead pony in charge and shoved him up against a wall, as he tried pushing out excuses for his legitimate business venture as he called it. Nimbus however, was having none of it.

“You know, longest it took me to break a pony was… Oh, about sixteen hours? Something tells me you won’t last that long and set any records,” Nimbus remarked, before tossing him to the ground and knocking him out with a blow to the head. “See, what’d I tell you?”

Riptalon meanwhile, was hurrying kids out of the little drug den, spotting a blue-coated foal who looked like Sugar. A guard came rushing up from behind, but Riptalon tossed him over his shoulder and onto the ground. He then pulled a pin on a grenade and tossed it onto the building where cannabis plants rose tall and proud, and ran like Hell, with the NCR soldier on his back humming: “She was a Day Tripper…” under his breath all the while.

Riptalon dived for cover and a fireball erupted going skywards as rubble fell all around him.

“Well, that didn’t go as bad as I thought it would!” Riptalon wheezed out. “Took a few years off my lifespan probably, but it was all worth it…” he smiled, as he saw Sugar’s foal along with the others being led to safety by Target and Twilight. Yeah, completely worth it, he thought before lapsing into unconsciousness.

It wasn’t long before the group, with Riptalon soon coming back to the land of the waking world returned to the Stable with the kidnapped foals in tow.

The door opened up again and Sugar ran out with tears falling down her face lifting her little foal in her magic holding him close to her, sobbing all the while.

“You know,” Nimbus admitted. “It actually feels sorta nice performing heroics, and I mean actual heroics, not ones for your country run by a maniac, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, suppose I do,” Riptalon replied. “This going to be the start of a new trend for you? Rescuing mares in distress, helping out foals?” he snarked.

”Oh shut up…” Nimbus replied, shaking his head. Why he even bothered, he didn’t know.

“See, no bloodshed,” Henri replied. “Just like we promised.”

“Good, you’ve done this old stallion proud.” Flamethrower said with a smile.

“Now, I assume you’re going to hold up your end of the bargain?” Henri asked.

“Hey, Starglow…” Twilight smiled, as she leaned down to nuzzle her ‘niece’ as it were. “Were you a good girl?”

Flamethrower nodded as he brought out the little one they gave him. “She was no trouble at all.”

Nimbus looked to the skies and swallowed as he saw some clouds crackle with lightning a ways off. “I really don’t like the look of those clouds, mind if we stay with you till the storm passes?”

“Of course, it’d be no trouble at all. We already have a few other guests with us. Nice young feller, that Jabari kid. Sure, his griffon ghoul companion takes a bit of getting used to, namely the smell, but… good girl. Bit on the feisty side,” Flamethrower admitted. “Mind you, it’s the robot who’s the one that you might not take to.”

“A pony, a ghoul, and a robot walk into a Stable,” Henri laughed as she stepped inside, with Flamethrower allowing her passage. “Sounds like the set-up to a bad joke.”

“Well, for a robot named Silver Gunner, I am sure you will get along fine...” He chuckled. Henri blinked at the name, she was familiar enough with the legends of the Wastes. She’d heard enough tales about the Silver Gunner.

“...Want to run that one by me again?” Riptalon asked, after a nervous swallow. “I swore you just said Silver Gunner.”

“I did. Why is that trouble? He’s come to this Stable for years,”

“Sorry, it’s just I’ve heard the stories. The Silver Gunner walks, is that right?” Riptalon asked. Flamethrower smirked at that.

“Now see why I said can you do it without bloodshed?” He laughed chuckling.

“Define bloodshed,” Riptalon asked nervously. “Are we talking death, or just kneecapping ponies? Because if so, it was his idea to do it!” he continued, pointing to Nimbus.

“Yeah, real supportive friends I have here…” Nimbus muttered.

Flamethrower rolled his eyes. “Silver Gunner’s a robot remember? He’s not a cold-hearted killer. He kills when logic tells him to. In fact, he stopped here on his way to the Hoof. He’s keeping a pretty low profile since well the last time he helped clear out the Enclave.”

“Goody for him…” Riptalon muttered. “I’m still a griffon with a price on my head!” he squeaked out. Nimbus, admittedly, actually found the whole thing quite amusing.

“Oh how much of a price hmm?” Flamethrower smirked. “I may be old but there are ways you need caps after all,” He winked, laughing and walking deeper into the stable.

“I’m going to die surrounded by the biggest jackasses in the Wasteland,” Riptalon muttered as he very reluctantly followed him. Admittedly, the warmth of a Stable was comforting, compared to where he’d been sleeping for the past few days, or weeks. He’d lost count. “Listen, I-I’m going to teach Sugar how to shoot properly, you guys just go on ahead okay?” he asked nervously, and Nimbus had to stifle his laughter with a hoof.

Henri shook her head, and continued walking deeper into the stable. She noted a few distrustful looks thrown her way, but whispers about what her team had pulled off echoed through the tunnels as well. She was so focused on this, she didn’t note where she was going, and hit something, or rather someone with a loud clanging sound.

“A lost one.” The robot said in an odd voice. Tinny, almost, if Henri had to put a description for it.

“Pardon me, but what do you mean by lost?” Henri asked cautiously. She didn’t have to guess who this was. She already knew.

The robot just stared at her. It’s eyes flickering something of a question but of an answer as well. “I know who you are. I have heard your story, I have seen the grave, the one known as Puppysmiles,”

“Wow, you really know how to creep a gal out,” Henri deadpanned.

“Would you expect a robot to be not creepy hmm? I had no choice in the matter of creation. But I know a thing or two about losing those close to me myself,”

“Next thing you’re going to tell me, is that you know about losing yourself as well, right?” Henri asked scathingly.

“I have been traveling most of my life young one. Some would say I am lost some would say I am searching for something. Maybe I’m searching for myself along the road. But how is your heart feeling?”

“Just… just like it needs something, I suppose,” Henri replied, with those eyes of Silver’s seemingly looking into her very soul. It made it impossible to lie to him. “Just don’t know what yet.”

“My friend I met, before she passed away from giving birth. She had the same type of feelings you did. But she never was able to pursue them and the Waste killed her.”

“Tiria, right?” Henri asked. “Don’t look so surprised, I read and listen.”

He chuckled. “Despite her hatred for the idea of her being a hero, she was one in the end ironically. She hated ponies most of all, she even hated your species.”

“She hated you too, I bet,” Henri commented, not meaning anything by it really, Just a guess.

“No, she did not. Me, Kip, and Shadow were the ones she allowed to be in her life. But the rest, she would have insulted and said to them you reaped what you sow. I for one don’t care for that way of thinking. But with her how species were they seemed linked to the world itself in a way. It just made her sicker.”

“I assume there’s a point to this somewhere?” Henri asked, grumpily having not had a good sleep in days.

Silver simply wrapped his forehooves around her pulling her into a hug. Henri simply blinked in surprise.

“Lot of this going around lately…” she muttered.

“Listen, Henri, you need to move on,” Silver replied.

“Yeah, been told that by Blackjack, and by Winter Breeze herself of all ponies. Never seems to take,” Henri muttered in response.

“Maybe they didn’t care enough to sit with you and chat and maybe help you through it. As one as old as I am, Henri I don’t just leave I stay and help in whatever ways I can.”

“So…” Henri asked. “How can you help me?”

“What is lost the most within your soul Henri?”

“I don’t know. I just keep losing ponies close to me. First my father, then Puppy. Like I’m cursed or something…”

“You get to remember them, Henri. I sadly don’t,” He opened his back bringing out a photo attached to a shotgun. In the photo, was a purple Earth Pony mare with light pink hair and a smiling flower as a cutie mark standing next to what looked to be an old schoolhouse. “I know nothing of these ponies and yet they knew me.”

“I’m sorry…” Henri replied, tracing a claw down the side of Silver’s face. It was old, dented, and riddled with bullet holes. She was honestly surprised Silver was still functional.

“Don’t be sorry for me Henri my life is as it is. I will always be running. You will not be sooner or later. So you need to find that one thing for yourself that will allow you to move on. I don’t have emotions like you do. I don’t know how to feel loss, I don’t know how to feel happiness. I am just a simple creature of logic.”

Henri smiled, thinking of two fillies. One, a blue pony with white stripes in her mane, and the other a small Zebra with her mane tied in a ponytail. “Yeah, I think I know who you’re talking about, and where I need to go next. Back home. Got two girls waiting on me back there, and I think it’s best if I stay with them for a while, get my bearings straightened out.”

Silver stared at the new photo he’d never seen before this, the one of the Earth pony. His eyes flickered quickly. A voice box opened up in his back and a voice calm and kind came out.

“Children, today we are going to learn about cutie marks!” it said excitedly.

“You don’t think…?” Henri asked.

“My creator… I need to find Scootaloo, now more than ever,”

Henri smiled, as thunder cracked overhead. “I wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it. World out there, it’s getting darker and more dangerous by the minute,”

“Ones like you, Henri, they’ll bring back the light. I’m sadly part of that darkness that hurts the world. When I’m not needed anymore I shall become history and move along in time,”

“Oh, don’t be that way. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, from you in fact, that there’s light at the end for even ones like you. Cheesy, I know, but it works.” Henri replied with a small smile.

“Of course but before I leave. I got one more question for you. Are you willing to answer?”

“Yes,” Henri replied.

“What is the core value of friendship?”

For a long while, Henri thought before she came up with an answer. “Love.”

“That is the most valued part of it. There are more but love is the biggest. Those that seek that remarkable illusion is needed in life. Don’t let that go away from you, hold it dear. Never allow another to tell you otherwise my friend. Remember, hate is always foolish, and love is always wise. Now get some rest, Henrietta Firebright. You’ll need it for the long road ahead.”

Author's Notes:

Okay, so sorry for the long wait, had gotten myself stuck in a massive writer's block till now. Now, huge thanks to Megaskullmon for writing his characters Flamethrower, the Silver Gunner, and presumably Sugar as well. We're so not sorry for the Doctor Who reference in Silver's ending lines. Not sorry at all. What can I say, we're nerds!

Also, yes, I did have to look up on how pot was grown for this chapter. Not planning on growing any though, rather not be arrested.