Entry 008 – Mole and the Minstrels (Part Two)

There are some awful places across Equestria.

In Manehattan, no pony goes near the Four Stars Grand Terminal, unless they have a death wish. The place is crawling with the ugly striped sons and daughters of the bitches who put our world in this hell hole. They may be wasted and rotten, but it is well rumored that they are still walking about and hungry for the flesh of their victims in the darkest corners of that building.

Old Olneigh. I shouldn’t need to explain that one. The horror stories of mutated ponies and beastly hellhounds speak for themselves. One story I heard was that other ponies created them in the name of science and progress. What ponies call advancement sometimes makes the kind of crap rapists and mass murderers pull look almost like the work of a foal. Almost.

Do I need to go on? The Shadowlands. Beyond Luna Bay, lies the place every pony with a right mind fears they’ll end up. If the Badlands are not terrifying enough, the Shadowlands are where the Windigos howl in anger for the pony’s creation of a scorched planet. Worse still than that, it’s where life disappears. Some believe that the shadows are growing from there day by day, and in the coming centuries, they will devour us all.

All of this certainly scared the feathers off me, and yet the first view of Molasses’ desired location introduced me to a sharper shiver through my spine than any scary story I’d ever been told.

My PipBuck’s discovery message matched the bright and flashing multi-colored sign dead ahead. The loud chorus of trombones, booming drums and terrified screeches drowned out the musical beeps from my utensil. I froze up on the spot, looking around at the burden on at least three of my senses.

My overeager friend stopped when she realized I was no longer hurrying after her.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you see the fun? Look at the fun, Crow! Look at the FUN!” I was looking at the ‘fun’ and all I was seeing was a torture park that ponies were willingly leading themselves into. BUCK! Even foals were hurrying towards these objects of death and evilness! There were things rolling, things spinning up high and swooping down again, things zipping around, all seemed to be aiming to make these ponies sicker than they’d ever be in their lives! There were things shooting up and down a shaft like a horny stallion with nothing but a hoof, and carts hat repetitively recreated a zebra torture by constantly dunking sufferers into lanes of water.

“You… heh heh, you look like you never saw a place this exciting before…” She went to rub my shoulder, looking ever so slightly awkward. This pace was her idea of wonderful, and thus far in my eyes, it was one alien land too many.

“I… haven’t?” I offered pathetically, tearing my stare at it to look at her, “Not like this… there’s places that used to be like it, out in Equestria…”

I neglected to mention that those places were either ruinous or torture chambers now.

“Oh, yeah?” She beamed and rolled her eyes, “ours is better! I know without even asking, because it is! Come on, Captain!” She tugged.

“Is it safe?”

“Sure is! I’ve been here every day of my life and do I look dead to you?” She sniggered behind a hoof as her joke convinced me just enough to make up my mind.

“Nah. You look like the most alive pony I know.” I meant it. Mole was filled with the life and soul of a party, something I didn’t think anything would crush. Her eyes glistened with the rainbows of artificial lights, and her fur glowed with vivacity that no magical rads could ever match. Something jumped in my chest, a heart I had forgotten I had.

Tentatively, I approached the threshold and followed my prancing friend through the blinking arch into the unfamiliar and unknown dimension.

I felt my feathers shudder again as I looked around, my tail flicking at the tip. Ponies were not only throwing themselves about on these torture devices, they were queueing up for them. They looked excited to be put through bouts of pain and fear. I looked to my Candy girl and asked her, not for the first time that day, why.

“It’s fun!”

“Horseapples!”

“No really, it is! Let’s jump on one, you can only see it is when you’ve been on one! Which do you want to try first? We can go on the big wheel, it’s nice and slow.”

I argued past several different attractions that were all in action, using each to show Mole that none of these were my idea of fun. If its aim was to entertain, then why were everypony on the contraptions screaming their heads off? Why would anything fun involve being flung about until their brains rattled in their tiny heads? All these questions and more confused me.

This strange place had more than just wicked torment machines. There were ponies offering snacks, and fried foods, and sugary beverages from Sparkle Cola to Sunrise Sarsaparilla. Even a few drinks on their boards I had not heard of. Something called Pon, another called Quenchade, which seemed to promise ponies more energy for longer periods of time. I also took notice of the ice cream stand and remembered the prize Mole had won on my foal’s game for, me. I’d be sure to use that later.

What truly caught my attention was a set of stalls with parlor games, like tossing hoops and striking down towers with balls to win prizes. I took a good look at each of them, before grinning as I spied the shooting range. Better yet, it had a set of prizes I could actually use.

I asked Mole for some caps so that I could have a go, which confused her until I remembered that bits were the main currency in this Stable still. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up and my claw was weighted with coin, I stepped up to the booth and tried to bustle through the crowd so that I could go next. Being the most recognizable member of the newcomers, several ponies shifted out of my way just to let me get past them and give me a chance to have a go.

The vendor spotted me at the front, and he tapped a button near the microphone hanging from the ceiling of his shooting gallery.

“Fillies and gentlecolts, it’s our honor to welcome the griffon of Stable fifty-four to Fling Flanks Shooting Range! Here to try your luck?”

“Who, me, sir?” I pointed to myself, fluttering my lashes, “I don’t know, I had just come to see if I could possibly buy one of the dresses you have hanging up there...”

“Oh,” he chortled, “sorry, ma’am, but you gotta earn your prize fair and square by shooting all my targets.”

“All of your targets?” I repeated, swallowed a bubble of air and looked over the range of scattered mini metal bosses in front of me. “Well, if that’s what I need to do to get one of your pretty dresses...”

I put the bits down, accepted the gun he passed to me and examined it. Just a peashooter that shot rubber bullets, but it would do for the purposes of the game. I looked down along the crosshairs and my inner self smirked as my suspicion was confirmed. The sights were set at enough of an angle to throw off the shooter. Cannot con a con artist.

“Oh, sorry ma’am, forgot to mention. All ponies, er, I mean, all creatures must pull the trigger with their mouths. No magic, no claws. Fair’s fair,” I looked him with a new concern.

“With my mouth?” I looked to my claws, so used to using weapons now, that they had calluses from repetitively pulling triggers. That was how I preferred to shoot, it provided me with the best accuracy.

“I could try for you if you want me to?” Mole attempted to whisper, “I’m getting real good at it now.” The entire crowd, which seemed to grow every second, heard her. I gave her a weak smile.

“No, thanks though, Moley. I gotta do this myself...”

I gave the gun another inspection for hygiene purposes before I inserted it into my beak and wrapped my tongue around the trigger. Before he’d even announced the countdown, my eyes darted over the objectives in front of me, taking in each potential shot.

The world around me stopped. Not figuratively, literally.

Wherever I looked, the green outline of the figure from my PipBuck was now an animated in front of my eyes, repetitively firing a slingshot whilst text blipped across my vision.

“Hi! I’m Bucky, your FunBuck Friend! Welcome to your Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell (S.A.T.S.) tutorial! This is a special magical spell that helps you hit several things in one go,” a foal-like voice in my ear told me. I turned in a full circle to look around for this voice. In continued to chat telepathically to me from my mini-computer.

“You need to turn around, you need to turn around, you need to- Firstly, you need to activate your S.A.T.S by looking at your first target. Look at your target now, or, to stop this lesson at any time, look down for five seconds!” I humored Bucky the voice in my head, and looked to the first duck with a green flashing aura on the board.

“That’s great! You’re doing really well. Now, look at the next target!” Duck one stopped flashing, and duck two began, so I shifted my gazed quickly to it. Each move seemed to please Bucky more, his voice becoming chirpier than Mole on dash. Until, that is, I looked at the vendor.

“Whoa!” Bucky yelped, “Ponies do not hurt other ponies! You must never use your S.A.T.S. to hurt another pony. Do you understand?”

“Err, it’s a little late to be telling me that, Bucky,” I mumbled around the gun still in my beak, still weirded out by the current experience. Bucky was a little more intelligent than I took him for, though.

“Uh oh, that wasn’t nice. I’ve had to send a message to your parent or guardian so that they know you were naughty.” I sniggered at that, shaking my head. I remembered once coming home from the makeshift school my village had built for the foals and chicks with a note regarding my behavior. I’d throttled a colt who’d called my Pa a dirty old drunk. I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but he had no right saying it. My dad had ruffled my head, chortled, and told me to pick my battles. Only strike a pony who looks willing to strike you.

Instead of reiterating this to Bucky, I looked to the fifth and last target.

“That’s right, well done! You’re almost done; once you nod, this tutorial will end, and the spell will help you shoot all of those targets. Are you ready?” I nodded, and with an excited whinny from my new electronic friend, the world was resuscitated.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” The vendor held up his hooves and flailed them, “No S.A.T.S! That’s cheating!” He jabbed his hoof towards his sign that reminded other ponies of the ‘No S.A.T.S aid when using the range and glared at me. I blinked in utter confusion.

“What? No, I… it did it automatically to me, I didn’t even… It’s not my fault! Can I try again?”

“You forfeit your turn by acting again the rules, young griffon. Buuut if you have the bits, I’ll let you take your next turn immediately.”

“Oh, will you?” Part of my dreamt about tossing a few bits down, then stepping back into the crowd, producing a missile launcher and lay waste to his little game, but I was better than that. Also, I was severely lacking a missile launcher.

Instead, I was going to get a little own back.

Mole slapped a few bits on the counter for me before I could stop her, but I quickly covered them with my claw as the vendor reached down for them.

“What’s your name, sir? Fling Flanks...?”

“No, no, that's my business partner. Together we own many of the stalls here! I'm Merrymaker, ma’am! … What is so funny?” I didn’t answer. I was too busy hooting at how ridiculously his moniker matched up to the name of a gentlecolt’s junk.

“You… really don’t… know?” I waved it off, sniggering despite all of the confused looks, “N-never mind, j-just don’t try to SHAFT me here, okay? I am trying to handle your WEAPON with care.”

“What are you-“

“If I get all the targets, I want to get my dress as my prize and my bits back, agreed?”

Merry-Member did not agree to this suggestion, but I just shrugged and looked under my claw.

“Fine. I’ll have another go since I don’t want to hold the crowd up…” I let the stallion in a striped candy-cane waistcoat and matching hand-me-down straw hat take his bits, reset the marks then step out of the way. I fiddled with my PipBuck so that it would not take over again, then put the gun back in my beak and took aim.

Believe it or not, I hit the first duck by accident. I’d forgotten about the wonky crosshair. I celebrated with a wiggle all the same.

My next shots were way off target, without upsetting Bucky and shooting the vendor. I finished the second round with a total of one point and sighed in defeat again.

“This is a lot harder than it looks,” I whimpered wetly, my feathers puffing like a blowfish. I watched the stallion’s grin widen. “Best two out of three?”

“Why stop a lady when she’s having fun? And tell you what, if you shoot half of my targets in this one, I’ll give you the bits back from one of your games.”

“Just one of them?” I asked as sweetly as I could, leaning on the desk. I could see the temptation shimmering in his eyes.

“How about this. If you get half down, you get half of your bits back. If you don’t, then you’ll give me… one kiss.”

“All my bits back if I get half. If I don’t, you get to spend the whole night to me,” My body had convinced my mind to play the dangerous attraction game. He didn’t need to know my heart only beat faster for the love of a good mare. I gave him a wink for free and enjoyed the stammering it caused.

“S-S-Sounds like a deal to me!” We shook on it; my gun was reloaded and my third chance began.

No, that was worse somehow. I was wide of every single target and didn’t even hit duck number one. This time, the audience broke into stitches, fueled by the stallion’s gleeful delight that he had won an evening with my feathery hide.

“So,” He chuckled when the roar died down, “shall I pick you up at eight?”

“Oh, you could…” I glanced to Mole who seemed ecstatic and in awe that I’d pulled on my first day in her foalhood city, “or you could be meeting myself and my friend.”

“Errm…?”

“HuhwhatCAPTAIN?!” I ignored the squeak amongst the gasping crowd and placed my ultimatum on his polished wood shelves.

“Zip it, Moley. Merry- Can I call you Merry? Merry, double or nothing; if I miss this time, you get both of us. But if I get half, give me the dress, and all the bits you’ve made today.” I sat, sultry eyes and awaited his answer. He was considering it, and I was prepared to wait whilst he did.

“I’ll give you a fighting chance, lady. If you miss three, then I win. But, I’m not going to hand over all my bits to you. I have a business to run here.“

“Alright, fair. Not all off them. Just half. And I must hit all but two of the targets. That way, our fates are decided on one little itty-bitty target. Sound fair?” I tiptoed my claw along the wood, looking up absentmindedly a clock. It was nearly midday.

“C-Captain, he’s not going to-“

A hoof moved into my view.

“You got yourself a deal, lady,” we shook, and the stallion gleefully proclaimed to the crowd, “looks like my lucky day, I’m going on two dates tonight, folks!” The crowd cheered again as Mole had a major panic attack and tried to pull me away.

“Stop, I – I can’t, I-“

“Gimme some bits, Mole.”

“N-no, I… I’ve ran out of bits!” I looked to her, then the pocket of her jacket still half-full and jingling, before rising an eyebrow.

“No, no, I’ll let you have this round for free. Either way, I’m still winning,” Chuckled the cocky guy with the equally self-confident name. I politely thanked him, took up my bb gun and moved into position. Mole continued to whimper and protest, trying to grab the gun from my mouth before I pushed her back onto her haunches with a wing. With a defeated groan, she flopped and covered her eyes at what she was sure would be another embarrassing loss.

I took a deep breath, aimed…

One down.

I beat my current recorded, the second duck flopping down. As I aimed for the third, a sweet, melodic Trottingham voice floated into my mind.

“You have got to have an extra edge, babe. If you just use your claws for fighting, your foes will take away your claws. If you just use your legs, they will take away your legs. If you are going to fight, (and Crow, I know you are going to fight) then fight with every single bit of your being that you have. Even your beak. Especially your beak...”

Blam! Tink!

Blam! Tink!

Around us, the indoor carnival continued to sing and dance as it did not notice the small spectacle on the single stall early into its flashing street of bizarre fun.

Inside our bubble, however, the crowd was in silent shock at the turn-around of the current events. I looked from the last three untouched bull’s eyes to the stunned stall keeper and then smugly smirked around my rented piece.

“Just one more, riiiight?” I flicked the weapon back up with a steely eye and sent the fateful three missiles flying towards their designated destinations.

Tink!

Sullen and sulky Molasses was just as adorable as innocent and meek Molasses, with the added challenge of being a tiny bit as irritating, though not as migraine-inducing, as bright and cheery Molasses. I found myself wishing she was just a little more edgy more often, enough to make me feel I could take her hoof and see how far we could run together as a dynamic duo. Instead, I had a confused three-way, consisting of intrigue, lust and contempt.

She'd been quiet and moody ever since we'd moved on from the shooting range. Merry Maker hadn't been too difficult to deal with following my victory. He had complained at first that I had conned him and threatened to call over a guard, until I pointed out that there was an interesting fault to his gun's sights that made the game far more challenging to an untrained pony, or griffon for that matter. Once I had him wondering how the security might treat the deliberate defect, he gave me my dress and my winnings, of which I split down the middle with Mole. Still, I did not get a smile, just a dismal thank you.

The dress fit me perfectly. I'd chosen a sparkling red one not only because it reminded me of my missing bandanna, but also looked wide enough for my well-built frame. It needed holes for the wings, but I was able to create those with some scissors I found another stall holder using to cut some price labels with. I also found a strong black saddle bag on her stall that fit me perfectly, so I purchased it once my wings were free. Yes, purchased. I don’t con all the time, just when I don’t have payment or when the mark deserves knocking down a peg or five.

Once I’d dragged Mole onto something called the Overstallion’s Observation wheel and it had started moving, I addressed her grumpy attitude.

“I wouldn’t have really let him do anything with you. Or me, for that matter, Mole. I already knew I was going to beat that range.” I gave her a playful nudge, surprised that I was trying to win that hyperactive eccentric thing back. I earned a look, not of anger, of disappointment instead. Still, she would not tell me what her problem was.

“I would have given you your bits back one way or another too, I’d not have left you with nothing,” the dispirited mare remained sat by my side in a tight little booth on a big, slow moving wheel.

“Fine. I give in. You don’t like the fact that I tricked him like that, but Merrymaker was tricking ponies as well, so I was completely justified in my actions! And I didn’t-“

“They were a gift,” her first grumbled words on that ride didn’t immediately relate to anything I thought I’d talked about, so I asked her to explain. “The bits I gave you, they were a gift. A friendship gift, and you just gave them back like they were nothing at all.”

Comprehending this proved to be my downfall, and when the young unicorn saw me struggling she just sighed and asked me to forget it, which I tried to do. Unfortunately, she wasn’t very good at forgetting things herself.

“I mean, you gave it all back. The bits for your drink, the bits for your games, and your dress, and, and… you’re going to try and get rid of me! That’s what everypony does next.” She flopped back in her seat, making the buggy rock. I didn’t like that, grabbing onto the railings.

“Mole, how? How could I get rid of you? Procrustean told us we’d both be in hot water if we split up.”

“Not hot water, just jail,” answered lil Miss. Literal, “he’s nasty but he wouldn’t boil us to death.”

“That’s not what that means. Okay. How about this?” I stretched out a wing, showing her. Her eyes didn’t light up, but they did grow interested as I pointed to the feathers. “See those? You’ve got the alulas feathers here, then the scapulars, the tertiaries, the coverts, the secondaries and finally the primaries. Of all of these, the primary feathers are a big deal. Lose one too many of those and it’s no more flying for Crow, you understand?”

She did, which she confirmed with a nod although she may not have realised why I was giving her a biology lesson. I grinned at her, then curled my wing to my beak. With the longest feather clasped within it, I clamped my mandibles and tugged without a care of my own preservation. The sting shot threw me with imaginary beastly venom, although this pain was not everlasting. Whilst the wing didn’t complain forever, the hole between feathers was noticeable now.

I tucked my pulled quill into Mole’s mane and leaned back to admire it through squinting eyes.

“There. Whatever anypony else says and does, I am your griffon. This feather is my promise of that. Got it?” I gave a pair of light prods at her chest and watched her levitate the navy blue fluffy pen to look at it. Sure, it was a bit of a lie, but it was one of the best lies I’d ever told.

She quickly tucked the feather back behind one ear and gave me a smile. Not a crazy, foalish smile, but an appreciative and caring smile. Even a small soft giggle, at last! I didn’t realize I’d missed that sound so much.

“Thank you for the lovely gift.”

“You’re welc- Aggh, hugging!” wings fluttered in fake-protest as she wrapped her legs around me and hugged me in. Then she settled back in silence, smiling and enjoying the view.

The view. In my insistence on healing Mole’s mood, I’d forgotten that we were climbing at a snail’s pace. The cart jolted again as the wheel stopped for more passengers, and my chest jerked with it.

“Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck.” I murmured, making the mistake of glancing down. My fellow passenger took notice.

“Um, are you okay? Are you having a heart attack? Migraine? Ear ache? Gas? Gas? Is it gas? CAPTAIN!” Her hooves gripped and shook me, which in turn caused the levitated crate to shudder.

“Stop that!” I gulped in a deep breathe, “I…I not good with heights, okay?” I could feel her looking at me like I was crazy. Oh, the irony.

“You have wings.”

“I know! I’m fine with small heights, I don’t have a problem hovering, but high, high, high… “I got stuck on a loop as I looked down, my voice shaking. They really did look like ants.

Comforting warmth enveloped me.

“Why can’t you fly up nice and high like a birdie in the sky?” she enquired gently, her warm breath with a slight touch of alcohol on my neck. Among other things, it made me really want a drink. It also gave me a strong case of the confused wing boner. Thankfully, she had no idea that was a thing and assumed I was just stretching out to hug her, based on how she snuggled into it.

I tried to open my beak and explain to her the reasons why I couldn’t go more than a few extra feet before my legs turned to jelly, but the memory made me shiver further.

“C-Can we talk about something else?”

“Oh, sure, what else do you want to talk about? Do you like grapes?”

“What are grapes? N-No, tell me something about you, I-I know literally nothing about you and yet you’re snuggling me like a ten-bit hooker.”

“What’s a-“

“You don’t want to know. Just, tell me about you. Your family, growing up, th-Aggh!” The hell-born machine started up again and I swore with my eyes shut. We weren’t even at the pinnacle yet. “Just talk, please.”

“Talk. Right. Okay…“ Unhelpfully, the big eared little filly then went mute for a moment. It was bliss when she broke through the sound of the cranking contraption once again.

“First candy I ever ate was a molasses. That was my first act of cannibalism and I~ liked it,” she exclaimed with an exaggerated leg swing of pride. She paused, as though waiting for laughter from me, but I was too busy trying to stop my seat from moving.

“Anyways, my brother Hard Candy always tried to stop me eating candy, especially that candy, because it was always my Daddy’s favorite. They didn’t want the Candys to be remembered for candy, but it was my name, that’s technically a birthright! But I am sneaky! My brothers and sisters never ever appreciated how super sneaky-sneaky I am. That’s why I was born with these,” She pointed to her elongated ears, “I can hear a flea sneeze from fifty miles away!”

I managed a glance at her ears, then dropped my gaze to her Cutiemark. Three gold and black wrapped, circular sweets, leaning one atop the other.

“I’d buy loads of candies and try them and figure out how to make them even more betterer! It was so much fun, but I couldn’t share it with my brother or my sisters, so I had to hide it every time I heard them coming. Then, I found this super-secret place where I could make my treats. I’ll show you, Captain –If- If you promise not to tell nopony!”

She jabbed a hoof at my beak and I managed a nod, even a slight grin. I wasn’t okay, but her chatter was working all the same.

“I’ll show you my shop too, but I don’t know about meeting my brothers or sisters, they’re major douche rockets.”

“And your parents… they’re not around,” I surprised myself with this quick deduction. I have –had- a sister and I never talk about her as much as Mole had just talked about her siblings. Admittedly, I talk about my mom even less, but I wouldn’t even spit on her if she was on fire, she doesn’t deserve the saliva.

She gave a sunny smile, something that didn’t look quite as genuine as her other moments of joy and glee.

“They ascended just a few days after I was born. It was really nice but really sad, but my big bro and big sis were old enough to look after me…” she chirped, her ears dropping and her tail laying across my lap.

At some point, she had started stroking the tuft of feathers on top of my head. I didn’t mind, it had been so long since I’d been touched at all that this would have been bliss without several hundreds of feet between us and the floor. At least we’d reached the top, the only way to go now was down.

I was about to question her last answer, when our PipBucks gave a jolly chime in unison. Groaning, I lifted my leg, expecting another game or some announcement that I had found the mile-high club.

A countdown. Thirty seconds. Bucky was holding a hoof to his chest with musical notes floating over his snout.

“Oh, sweet merciful bollocks of Celestia, what now?” I squawked, before grabbing something as Mole began to bounce and cheer. She wasn’t alone. The crowds beneath us were stomping hooves, whooping and whistling too.

“Mole, what’s going on?” I demanded with growing concern, grabbing her to stop her bouncing the tight enclosure off of its hinges. She giggled like a lunatic and cuddled me so tightly that my lungs struggled to inflate. Twenty seconds.

“They’re coming!”

“Who?”

“The Minstrels!” She squealed. As she did so, a deep cranking shook us further. In the center of the stable, I could see the statuette of the dancing mare rising up over the fountain, a long pillar pushing her towards the ceiling. She was still spitting out her trio streams of clear water. Ten seconds.

“What are Minstrels?”

“You’ll see, you’ll see!”

As the timer blinked the last few digits away towards the event I was so unprepared for, my mind raced. Was this it? Was I about to be snuffed out in a long lost city under the remains of Manehattan?

Three. Two. One. I couldn’t shut my eyes. I had to know my destiny.

The pillar stopped, and the stone figurine moved. She closed her mouth, sealing the water away as she turned and mutely addressed the huge crowd with outstretched forelegs. She tiptoed around to share the air hug with every corner of the stable, before flinging her hooves to the ceiling.

Two things happened at once. Immediately, an invisible brass orchestra began to play an upbeat and triumphant tune, so near and so loud that it had me looking about our high seating for the players. As the sounds trumpeted, black holes appeared on the fountain’s pillar, which I soon realized were small windows. From each one that appeared, a copious pea colored smog poured out, quickly filling the air around the active effigy.

“Mole…?” I tweeted nervously, but my little friend was not afraid. Her hooves were pattering on the deck and she kept checking her PipBuck.

“I love this song,” she proclaimed joyously, showing me her leg. Her screen righted itself as I found myself looking at the lyrics of a song. I knew the song well, but I didn’t know how it fit with the sight I was beholding. Not right away.

As violins and a beat joined the phantom accompaniment, I looked back to the green smoke, to see it was blooming and creating flowery patterns around its stone idol. One gesture from her, and the emerald blossoms burst across the stable to all five points, seeming to turn the metallic ceiling to a shimmering sky of jade.

Spider strings fell from this radiated roof, feeding into the crowds who unsurprisingly moved out their way. After that sight I was less aware of the sights outside, as one string dribbled into our capsule, pooled onto the metal floor then began to grow.

“Mole!” I attempted to tug the filly back as she leaned in with a gasp of glee for the developing cloud of glowing apple-dust until I saw what it was becoming.

Within a few seconds, it had become a specter of a stallion, stood in the swinging cabin with us, attention entirely taken by the smiling, tearful filly. She rubbed her eyes and giggled.

“Hi Daddy.”

<sub>Footnote: Quest Complete - Mole’s Hole
Quest Perk added - Whiskey Connoisseur - Alcoholic beverages are 10% less effective to Stamina.

Quest Begun - Fight At The Museum</sub>

Author's Notes:

Want to discuss the story? Follow me to the Scoundrel’s Settlement on Discord...

Song for this chapter; "Life's a Happy Song" from "The Muppets" soundtrack Listen to it fifteen times and you might actually get into Mole's mentality...

Big thanks to Private Joke for letting me know when to stop writing this chapter. It could have gone on for longer but that cliff hanger felt like the right place to pause.

Don't worry, Deadwood'll be back for the next chapter. It can't be all fluffy bullshoes forever...

Thank you again for reading up to this moment. Ask me anything.
If this is when you leave us, goodbye and safe travels.

If you're still strapped in for the ride, see you in the next chapter.

All good things,
Duskhoof