“Junction Town, what’s it like?” Jabari had to ask, even as the company climbed down the hillside pass that led into the town proper. “Heard a few things about it back home, chatter from the locals but never saw it for myself really.”

“Well kid,” Riptalon remarked. “Don’t go in expecting much, because what you’re basically getting is a place scavenged together from whatever the Wastelanders could find. I lived out of a refurbished boxcar for crying out loud!”

“Hello Equestrian Wasteland!” DJ-Pon-3’s voice sung from Nimbus’ Pipbuck. “Just want to give a shoutout to those assholes who decided it was such a nice thing to do to desecrate one of Megan’s churches! I mean, a House of the Holy for crying out loud!

“Can I just give a big fuck you to Stormy Skies for even asking his soldiers to do that? I mean, even I know the legend of Megan, uneducated as I am about your history. Stormy Skies’ pegasi, they’re descended from the exact same fucking race as the pegasi who first settled in Ponyland, so basically he’s trodding over the graves of his ancestors!

“Seriously, big-ass thank you to whoever drove those ponies, and I use that term very loosely now, off into the wilderness. Seriously, thank you, and another fuck you to Stormy Skies. Smite me now asshole, but fuck you!”

“Well, he’s certainly…” Nimbus blinked, rather at a loss for words. Even he wasn’t that bold, challenging Stormy Skies outright and calling him out. “...Brazen.”

“One word for it,” Target remarked, as she rested End of the Line over her shoulders. “I was going to go for mind-blowingly stupid, but whatever works for you I guess.”

As she looked over her shoulder, just to keep an eye out for any snipers hiding in the rocks, she swore she saw a stallion dressed in a long black coat and hat, but when she blinked he’d vanished into thin air. Target sighed to herself, the heat and lack of good food and water were starting to get to her. Make her hallucinate.

Nimbus’ brow furrowed, the way this broadcaster talked about history and even he knew this was probably reaching a little, some of it seemed to him like he wasn’t exactly a pony himself. Maybe he was a griffon, maybe he was a Kirin. Who was to say, really. He really had to question hiding his identity though, given anyone with even an ounce of common sense should have been able to figure out the real DJ-Pon-3 died long ago.

“Now, the only reason I can figure he’d hide her identity would be as if he’s…” Nimbus thought to himself, before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, by Celestia’s withers! You gotta be bloody kidding me! ...Well, I suppose that right there would warrant hiding your true identity, wouldn’t it?”

He sighed. By Gusty the Great, if that ever got out, there’d be chaos on Discord levels all across the Wasteland, everyone’s whole lives turned upside down if they ever found out one of their beloved DJs was… Well, suffice to say it wouldn’t be pretty. The fallout and Celestia forbid it ever came, would not be pretty.

“Let’s just hope and pray neither Winter nor Stormy ever get the smart idea ever to drop the veil as it were, and tell everyone DJ-Pon-3 isn’t exactly who she claims to be…” Nimbus continued to think to himself as he walked. He sighed to himself, thinking back as he remembered times long ago, high up in the city in the clouds, that kingdom to behold as it was called.

Coltlumbia:

“I’m just saying Winter,” Nimbus remarked as he and the pegasus mare strode right through the heart of Hurricane Bay, the artificial waters lapping at the shoreline. “You, in the considerations for our next President? Sure you’re up for this? I mean, sure our last couple of leaders were as nutty as they come so anyone would be an improvement, but a position government puts quite a few gray hairs in your mane. The main reason why I never even considered it. I have enough stress teaching half of the morons that pass for recruits these days to fire a Novasurge Rifleas it is!”

“You saw the casualty lists from the Civil War,” Winter said as she shook her head a little. “Not to mention the defections after Sunshine and Rainbows. If I don’t get the job, then somepony who is as nutty as the previous ones might. And, well that’s the last thing the Enclave needs right now.”

“Point,” Nimbus commented with a shrug of his shoulders, looking at Winter critically. If he didn’t know better, the mare almost seemed to be putting on some weight. Might have wanted to lay off some of the treats from the bay really. It wasn’t exactly a big secret Winter loved to come down here and enjoy the atmosphere. “I mean by Celestia, I’ve been hearing rumors of a certain religious idiot making waves in the political arena, saying he’s going to bring the Enclave back to it’s glory days,” Nimbus remarked before muttering to himself: “...As if we ever had any of those to begin with, bloody Autumn Leaf.” he grumbled, remembering all too well his public burning of the effigies of Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo a few years back before the whole disaster that was the Day of Sunshine and Rainbows.

“Which is why it’s more important than ever that we rebuild, not just the Enclave,” Winter said with a shake of her head. “We’ve let madponies run things for almost 200 years, we have to look to the future. The Day of Sunshine and Rainbows exposed the people to the truth and after Gardens of Equestria went off and the other events, we may have to consider the possibility that our future isn’t above the clouds.”

“You think?” Nimbus deadpanned. “Place is falling apart, just look at Flankton. They call it’s a worker’s paradise, but hardly anyone can get a job and even those that do, well they just barely manage to scrape by! And let’s not even get into the racist hellhole that’s Wonderbolt Fields. I swear I saw just the other day the carousel being fitted with Zebra lookalikes for the little pegasus foals and fillies to ride! I swear, if it wasn’t illegal, I’d blow that bloody thing up. It’s an eyesore, that’s what it is.” Nimbus started, beginning to go into a small rant.

“I agree,” Winter said with a sigh as she looked around. “We need to re-evaluate our priorities as a nation. Coltlumbia was a breaking point for us, the rebellion lit a fuse to a massive powder keg and we’re left trying to rebuild it.”

“...And that’s going so well. All it’d take would be for one pony with the right demeanor to take control over Coltlumbia and then we’d be right back where we started. Boom, just like that!” Nimbus sighed.

Winter paused a moment as she looked around and thought about it. “Then there’s only one thing we can do.”

“Why do I have the feeling that A, I’m not going to like it, and B, I’m really not going to like it?” Nimbus deadpanned knowing that when Winter got drastic, she got really drastic.

“Neighvarro is in shambles, Thunderhead is not much better off after what happened with Lighthooves,” Winter said as she looked back at Nimbus. “The Enclave is divided, times have never been more uncertain. Coltlumbia needs to become a symbol of that future, once everything is settled in, perhaps it’s time to move the capitol here.”

“Bit on the crazy side, but considering everything’s current state -I mean, I have a cousin who’s pregnant in Thunderhead, and that place is falling to pieces!- it might just work. But how do you know everyone’s going to be ‘okay’ with this whole idea? You’ve got the old Hardliners like my uncle Howling Winds, and such. They would not be pleased with a entire movement like you’re proposing. Hell, heard Cloud Chaser wants to brand everypony not following his ideals as friggin’ Dashites!”

“It will require reorganization, Cloud Chaser and his ilk will be brought into line, as long as we make it look like we’re moving in, let’s say certain directions,” Winter said. “I’m thinking a council of Generals, parcel out territory to each of them to move in on while we fortify in the right areas. If we can get Reticle and Aries involved that’ll help, and I believe there’s a mare in the Judicial branch, Shimmering Skies, she is more, receptive of these ideals.”

“And of our favorite religious extremist, Stormy Skies? Personally, in the words of a old Neighponiese villain, and I must apologize for any inaccuracies in my speech here but I think he can: “Saa, jigoku o tanoshimina.” That’s what I think he can do, really. Go off and enjoy that.”

“It’s not going to be easy I’ll admit,” Winter said with a shake of her head. “But he will be dealt with in time. One advantage to Hardliners is that they’re not fond of religious fanatics for the most part, as long as we can keep them in line, we’ll have very little to worry about from Stormy Skies. Once the time is right and our goals, our true goals, are met, then the Hardliners will be dealt with and their position will be too weak to put up much of a fight.”

“Well, you’ve certainly thought this through,” Nimbus remarked. “I’d honestly say you’d probably make the Enclave a actual tolerable form of government if you tried. Of course, the common folk are like sheep, make one wrong move and upset the Hardliners too badly and they’ll flock to them.” he continued, before opening a flask of whiskey and drinking some of it and thanking Celestia that he had a store of it hidden away in Flankton. Chances are he’d need some of it in the future if Winter had her way. And she usually did.

“Then I will do something the Enclave has never done, I will listen to the voice of the people,” Winter said calmly.

“Vox populi…” Nimbus murmured to himself. “Yeah, sounds like something you’d follow.” he murmured as Winter continued on.

“We learned the hard way that they are not silenced here in Coltlumbia, so instead of silencing it, we must champion it. Bring them to our side in heart and mind and the Enclave will prosper.”

“...Geez,” Nimbus deadpanned. “Speak a little louder why don’t you, and get us both shot for treason by certain Hardliner supporters? I know they’re out there, somewhere amongst the crowd,” he commented, gesturing to the beachgoers and then looking to his holstered energy pistol. “Call me overly paranoid, but being paranoid keeps a buck alive. And aside from that, I do remember the news story a few weeks back about someone getting shot at a rally, with my uncle’s followers being suspected but the shooter was never found so nopony got implicated.”

“I’ll be careful,” Winter said with a soft smile. “Thank you for your concern Nimbus, but I believe that this is the right direction to go in. I will have to be careful, but when the time comes, we will become a shining light for Equestria, and someday we can truly make the Enclave, no the world a better place.”

“Wish I shared your optimism, but I’ve been around the block for far too long, seen too many good ponies either swallowed up by this place’s natural insanity, or silenced outright. So if that day comes, I’ll eat my hat, but for now, I think I’ll keep a gun to my side just in case.”

“Understandable,” Winter said with a nod. “But, we have to give it a chance. Or everything will just fall apart again, we have to give our children a future. A world that we can be proud of instead of one that’s falling apart.”

Nimbus smiled, -perhaps for the first time in a long while- and nodded.

BANG!

Nimbus was all too thankful he still kept a gun by his side as he heard a shot ring out from somewhere amongst the rocks, and took cover behind a nearby boulder going for his pistol as he did so.

“You see it?” he barked out. “You see where it came from?”

“Up there!” Gabby shouted, her keen griffon eyesight coming through once more. “On a ridgeline!”

Sure enough, where Gabby was pointing were a couple of ponies with rifles dressed in NCR Armor.

“Real nice friendly homecoming we’ve got, isn’t it?” Nimbus drawled, looking at Riptalon. “You attract all kinds of friends, don’t you?”

“Hello, wanted outlaw here!” Riptalon remarked as Target tossed him a Novasurge rifle, with Xenith shooting Riptalon a shocked look.

“Like you thought returning to the NCR would go any other way with you…?” Midnight sneered, Riptalon ignoring him.

“I thought you said Henri would take care of that?” Nimbus snapped in return as he ducked to avoid shots, bullets whizzing by his head, with Twilight throwing up a protective shield.

“Right, the word of one griffon,” Riptalon deadpanned. “How well do you think that’ll work out?”

“Thought she was all buddy-buddy with Regina!” Nimbus shouted back, severely repressing the urge to return fire by this point.

“Well, I didn’t say that. More like acquaintances, them,” Riptalon replied.

“...You have the oddest friends, you know that right?” Xenith observed, looking at Nimbus who could only nod in return.

“Believe me, I noticed,” he deadpanned, before letting out an angry shout of: “Oi, you trigger-happy plonkers with the rifles! Friendlies here!”

Obviously, Nimbus’ negotiation skills needed work, as clearly calling NCR scouts trigger-happy plonkers was not a good idea in the slightest, and he only earned a bullet that very nearly missed his head for his troubles.

“You’re an idiot,” Xenith observed once more.

“...And you only now just noticed this?” Riptalon deadpanned. “But said idiot’s right!” he shouted. “Look, we’ve got your gear, and Xenith Firestone with us! That alone should tell you we’re on your side!”

A shot from a rifle whizzed by his head, and a feminine voice answered: “Which you could have stolen, and in Xenith’s case could have kidnapped!”

“Okay, how about this then?” Riptalon asked. “We’ve got a child with us, so how about you stop shooting for a moment and think about that eh?”

“And now once again, you bring that child into your troubles. Yeah, real model parent here,” Midnight continued to drawl out. “Yep, real fine griffon I got myself killed over.”

Riptalon’s remarks did get through to the ponies, and instead of getting shot at by NCR Scouts, the Company promptly found themselves arrested and placed into hoofcuffs by NCR Scouts.

“...Can’t decide if this is better or worse.” Nimbus deadpanned. “The NCR isn’t in support of firing squads for traitors and their friends right?”

Riptalon’s silence said it all on the matter, and Nimbus then muttered: “...Yep, I’m going to die. Not via Stormy Skies’ horn, but via NCR firing squad. Wonderful, just bloody wonderful.”

Of course, before that could get anywhere near close to happening, the hoofcuffs were removed when both Regina and Henri walked up, giving the scouts a set of very quelling glares. Riptalon tossed Riptalon a smirk.

“See, what did I tell you?” he asked.

“...Oh, shut up ya numpty.” Nimbus growled out.

Junction Town

Riptalon wasn’t entirely surprised when whispered abound when he strolled into town, amongst a caravan of the oddest selection of ponies and a zebra imaginable. He caught a few of the whispers of course, some of them wondering what a traitor like him was doing back here, while others just sat in stunned disbelief that Riptalon, the one they’d been told to shoot on sight was in actuality a hero of sorts to the NCR’s operations.

“For the record, I think I liked it better when I was a wanted griffon, strolling the desert wastes of old Appleloosa really,” Riptalon muttered. “At least there, all you had to worry about were the wild animals and the raiders trying to rip you limb from limb. ...Granted, at some points, there’s probably very little difference between the two.”

“...And for the record, I think I’d have to agree with you on that,” Nimbus murmured as he watched ponies, griffons and other varying species point at his wings, even as he carried a sleeping Starglow atop his back. “I’m not a bloody sideshow attraction for ponies to come and gawk at. If I was, I’d be up in Hurricane’s Bay or the Wonderbolts Field back home.”

“...Something tells me I’d rather not know,” Riptalon muttered to him in reply.

“Oh, not so bad once you get past the fact that you’re in a whole city populated by Enclave Loyalists. Sorta a paradise really,” Nimbus lied. “After all, it created me didn’t it?” he continued, giving Riptalon a smirk

“...Right, and I’m supposed to view that as a good thing?” Riptalon asked, the massive ursagryph looking skywards seemingly pleading for some sort of deliverance from this hell. “Like you’re the best choice of friends, ya jerk.”

“Bitch,” Nimbus muttered in reply before finally having enough of ponies staring and pointing at him, he shouted out: “Hey, if you want to go stare and point at something, go look at that statue of Littlepip in the town’s center!” he roared, before muttering to himself in a quiet tone: “...More more worthy of being called a hero anyways than myself, the Morningstar, after all I’ve pulled.”

“Suppose you’re going to go hole yourself up in the nearest bar now aren’t you?” Jabari deadpanned, and everyone looked right at him. “What? Should you really be so surprised? Even if I’ve not been with y’all for that long, even I’ve noticed Nimbus’... tendencies.”

“Well fuck you too mate,” Nimbus muttered. “For the record, yeah, I was thinking about it, but probably going to regret it in the morning. Plus, far more interested in handing Starglow off to somepony who can take proper care of her, not put her in somebody’s firing line.”

“See, even Nimbus, the Enclave Soldier admits he’s a terrible father figure, unlike you!” Midnight whispered in Riptalon’s ear, with the whispers seemingly going ignored. For now, at least.

“Hand her off to me,” Henri volunteered even as two kids, one a zebra filly with her mane done up in a ponytail and another, a blue pegasus filly ran up to her and began excitedly jumping around at Henri’s return. Nimbus smiled a bit at the cute sight, before looking at the griffon who continued. “There’s this Kirin, nice old woman who I rescued from some raiders ravaging her Stable, who runs the local orphanage. She’ll keep an eye on Starglow and keep her safe, don’t you worry about a thing.”

She gestured for Twilight to come along as Nimbus hoofed off the girl to Henri, with the Alicorn Princess in disguise following as requested.

“So, what are you going to do with your newfound freedom?” Nimbus asked. “Spend a bit of time hustling ponies out of their caps?”

“I’d like to do that, but there’s something I gotta take care of first. Something rather important, and something that’s really rather none of your business,” Riptalon stated, before Nimbus could even open his mouth.

“...I wasn’t even going to ask!” Nimbus exclaimed, throwing a hoof up in the air. “...Alright, now I’m definitely going to go get a drink considering I feel sooooo wanted right about now.”

Sure enough, he made his way to the nearest saloon, and to his surprise found Stripped Gear and Flashfire sitting there, their weapons put to the side for the time being. As he entered with his two old comrades giving him a little wave, he overheard two mares commenting on someone, with his luck probably him.

“That stallion looks lost, don’t you know?” one asked, with her partner remarking in return this little nugget.

“Looks just fine to me.”

“Cornflower, you are a living walking scandal!”

Cornflower sighed and then muttered: “With my luck, all the good stallions like him are probably into the theatre…”

“Well, mon dieu, you’re certainly attracting a lot of attention aren’t you?” Flashfire observed momentarily taking a break from his coffee, as Nimbus pulled up a seat. He raised an eyebrow. It was a bar, and the stallion decided to drink just plain coffee. Ah well, just another thing to add to his book of weird-arse things he’d seen in the wastes this week.

“The good kind, or the bad kind?” Nimbus remarked dryly. “Because between all the pointing and the stares, starting to feel like I’m not really wanted here.”

“Well, considering what you are…” Stripped trailed off, before shutting up quickly as Nimbus gave him a glare.

“You haven’t told anyone about… ah, our little mutual friend’s secret have you?” Nimbus asked Flashfire, who shook his head knowing exactly what secret he was talking about.

“The mare who’s going to save your lives today,” Twilight stated firmly, as she threw off her tarp and expanded her wings, allowing her Cutie Mark to be in full view as it gleamed in the sun. “May not be able to save everyone, but I’ll at least be able to save you lot, for better or for worse.”

“Not in the slightest, mon ami, not after what she did,” Flashfire stated. “If anyone finds out, it won’t be because of a small slip of the tongue from me. And… uh, about the stares,” he added kindly. “Just take it from me, someone who’s received his fair share of attention for his medical abilities, they will pass. They will pass. Soon, you’ll just be another face in the crowd.”

All three stallions winced when they heard Cornflower and her friend shouting at each other.

“You... you whore!” Cornflower screamed at her friend.

“I assure you, madam, my sexual interest in your dear husband is non-existent. Furthermore, the man is quite sterile.”

Stripped and Flashfire shared a shrug, and each went back to their respective drinks with Stripped muttering: “See some things haven’t changed at all.”

Nimbus just blinked, and stared at the two mares who were now at each other’s throats, and then at Flashfire and Stripped who were doing nothing at all to stop this.

“...Aren’t you going to break that up?” he asked.

“Not our job,” Flashfire informed with a casual shrug of the shoulders. “Besides, this is usual for them anyhow. The two argue about who’s having sex with each other’s husband every day or so whenever they get drunk enough. It’s made quite the sideshow for the rest of us really. Shame they have to break it up,” he remarked, gesturing to the Applejack’s Rangers who arrived about then and pulled the two mares away from each other.

“...You get all kinds…” Nimbus thought to himself and just welcomed the Wild Pegasus Whiskey when it finally came.

That evening, with a pair of newly reforged starmetal knives strapped to his hips courtesy of Xenith, Riptalon found himself at a tent outside of town. Close behind, Jabari was following out of simple honest to Celestia curiosity, the young zorse staying to the shadows to avoid being seen.

Riptalon, swearing he detected movement, whipped his head around behind him but saw nothing and shrugged. His eyes then wandered to a nearby hilltop, where he saw a familiar stormy gray pegasus lighting up a fire of sorts, and throwing objects into it including a familiar Lyra doll.

“Is he…?” Riptalon thought to himself as he watched Riptalon raise his rifle skywards in a salute of sorts before Riptalon sighed and began shaking his head. “Nah, he couldn’t be. Hates Midnight far too much right now to pay tribute to him.”

Something else darted between two barrels, and Riptalon’s head whipped itself away from Nimbus to face in that direction.

“Alright, now I know someone’s there…” he thought to himself before calling out: “Alright, whoever’s shadowing me, you can come on out. I’m not blind, I know you’re there!”

Jabari emerged, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly before asking: “That obvious, huh?” and Riptalon gave him a flat look. Jabari could only laugh nervously and say: “...Sorry?” in return.

“...Well, might as well come along,” Riptalon muttered, shaking his head. Kids, he thought to himself. “Might get some info on your heritage really,” he remarked, as he gestured to the tent ahead, with the small glow of a fire coming from inside. He’d suspected Jabari, despite his name, was descended from the settlers out west with the sheer accent he carried in his speech, and while he didn’t quite know how to educate him on the Zebrican side of his heritage, he could at least do this for him.

Inside the tent, on the other end of the warm crackling fire amongst a bunch of other ponies decorated in tribal paint was a very old, wrinkled unicorn clutching a staff of sorts. Long ago when places like Appleloosa were first settled by ponies, the buffalo and the settlers exchanged traditions, maybe even bred into each other a little bit and so a new breed of unicorn had been created, with their own traditions and beliefs.

“Okay, you must understand nothing of what you hear here,” Riptalon told Jabari sternly, in a completely strict tone. “Leaves this tent, are we clear?”

Jabari nodded silently, sitting himself down on the ground next to Riptalon. The old shaman, he turned to look at the ursagryph with weary eyes.

“It does this old horse’s heart good to see his young chick return to his nesting place,” the shaman spoke, and Riptalon looked away in shame knowing he hadn’t exactly followed the shaman’s wishes.

“Uh, a little bit of backstory here?” Jabari whispered, scratching his head in confusion.

“...Right, yes, sorry,” Riptalon admitted, his facial feathers flushing slightly in embarrassment. “This is Abooksigun, took me in back when I was just a young chick about twenty or so years ago. He’d spent his time living out in a stable with his tribe, and I was just stuck in that stable with the Overmare at the time, a unicorn named Aleshanee. Despite her name, wasn’t the most pleasant of mares. Didn’t exactly give a damn about me or just about anyone else for that matter, so Abooksigun took me in as his adoptive son, taught me a few things about his people’s traditions.”

“Hmm yes,” Abooksigun mused, stroking his beard with his hoof. “Young Riptalon, he was a wild sort in his youth. Though one can safely say that hasn’t changed much,” he chuckled to himself. “He just needed his inner beast… tamed. So what brings you and your young friend here?”

“...I think I’m being shadowed by a spirit,” Riptalon admitted. “Maybe it’s a Skinwalker, honestly not sure. Haven’t had time to perform the proper blessings yet, as I need to be sure of what I’m dealing with here. Could just be one very pissed off ghost. So, I came to you for answers, guidance.”

Riptalon then explained to Abooksigun what had exactly occurred on Mount Pleasant Island and what had occurred since then with Midnight’s spirit, After all explanations had been given, Abooksigun nodded before tossing some water on the fire, and gestured to two ponies who began creating a fire outside the tent while he himself began tossing various items into the pit in the tent’s center. Items like sweetgrass and tobacco while the firekeepers outside began chanting traditional blessings. Riptalon was handed a pipe, filled with a hallucinogen called peyote, and began smoking it as Abooksigun began to chant, asking the Gods to show them Midnight’s spirit. The temperatures inside the tent, they rapidly began to climb and Jabari had to pull out a bottle of water just to keep himself from getting heat stroke.

“Now, show yourself!” Abooksigun shouted as the steam began to fill the tent. “Tell us how we can properly lay your spirit to rest, Midnight Radiance!”

Riptalon didn’t quite know if it was the peyote talking as the hours passed and the evening turned to the thick of night, but at some point during this entire endeavor, he swore he saw the smoke began to swirl all around him and began forming a shape of sorts. It was ponyish in nature, and Riptalon let out a small murmur of “Midnight…?” with a small tear dripping from his eye.

What happened next, nobody in the lodge certainly could have expected really. A card, a tarot card to be exact was tossed out of the fire, depicting a pony with nine swords above his head.

“...What the fuck?” Riptalon whispered as he picked up the card in his claw and began studying it. He wasn’t exactly the world’s biggest expert on the major and minor arcana suffice it to say. Actually, to be honest he really didn’t know anyone in Junction Town who was to be perfectly honest.

Finally, the smoke and steam began to fade, the fire burning itself out in the chill of the midnight air.

“Well, that was an… experience,” Jabari remarked to nobody in particular and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow, as Riptalon studied the Tarot Card and pocketed it for later.

“So, I hope this gave you guidance on how to deal with your restless lover?” Abooksigun asked.

“Honestly…” Riptalon replied, taking a deep shuddering breath. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I think I’ll start performing blessings on my house -if it hasn’t been demolished- just to be safe,” he noted before quickly muttering to himself: “That, and start figuring out a way to read up on the major and minor arcana.”

With that, he took his leave not saying another word, while Jabari bowed to Abooksigun and said: “Thank you sir, it was a pleasure and an honor to experience this.” with Abooksigun smiling.

As soon as Jabari left, he turned to look at Riptalon.

“You alright?” the young zorse asked.

“No kid, I’m not alright. Not alright at all…” he whispered.

Author's Notes:

Okay, I have several huge thank yous to give. First off, one to Eagle-Paladin of Shadows for teaching me about the Native American traditions for dealing with the spirit world, and to this site for information about sweats. God, I hope I did the traditions respectfully, and not made myself look like an idiot.

Next, another thank you to RuinQueen for teaching me about the Nine of Swords tarot and moreover, returning to write Madam Winter Breeze for her and Nimbus' pre-Survivor's Guilt conversation. She didn't have to return to write her, but she did and so a huge thank you for that one.

Anyways, as ever, comments, thoughts, and critique are welcomed here.