Never was he happier than when he was playing his pipes. The mournful notes of “Piobaireachd of Donald Dubh” echoed along the walls of the canyon he walked through; it gave him the feeling of being in a proper marching band, like the ones he used to see when he was a lad. He let out a quiet sigh of contentment to himself as he finished the song and the last of the bagpipes' sounds faded.

He'd been just about to start off on another of his favorites when a shrill cry came echoing to him from further down the canyon.

“HELP!”

The sound hadn't even faded before his pipes were slung over his shoulder, his claymore was in his hand and he was moving. It took him barely any time at all to reach the end of the canyon, which let out into a natural bowl-like formation; at the far end were a collection of massive, black-and-red shapes that were all too familiar to him- Aku's robotic drones. But between them and the blank earthen wall were two small splashes of color that he couldn't make out from the distance he still needed to cover.

He could still hear, though. “Get... get back, you... things! Or I'll- I'll make you regret it!”

“Lyra, you're only making them angry!”

“They were already angry!”

Well, whoever the robots had managed to corner, they sounded both female and defenseless- and that only lent speed to his steps as he closed in, finally getting within range for a dramatic leaping attack.

CRUNCH

The closest of the attack drones collapsed like a tin can as his full weight slammed into its back. Before any of the others could react, the ones to his sides were already split in half with one swing of his claymore; the rest of the drones finally realized they had an interloper in their midst and turned towards him, gunpods deploying. “Target identified,” they growled as one. “Alias 'The Scotsman'; real name-”

tat-tat-tat-tat-tat

Their report was drowned out by that of his machine gun, as the heavy-caliber rounds plowed through thick armor and delicate electronics with equal ease. Before any of the drones could even get a shot off, he'd gunned down all nine of the ones who hadn't already fallen to his sword- whoever had done the programming for the infernal things had apparently felt that announcing one's target took priority over actually terminating it.

Lances of blue fire streaked by him from his left. Four more of the drones had rushed in at the sound of battle; it looked the cheeky gits had already finished announcing him while he couldn't hear, then opened fire. Fortunately, accuracy was not their strong point, and he didn't even have to move as he yanked a hand grenade from his bandolier; pull pin, release spoon, count to three and throw- the explosive device landed dead-center in the advancing group, and they didn't even bother to attempt evasion before concussive force and shrapnel turned them into junk.

He couldn't help but grin as he surveyed his work. “Well, that was a nice little warmup afore lunch,” he said, moving his head left and right to work out a kink in his neck as he sheathed his sword. “Now, about ye lasses, who....”

He paused for a moment as his eyes took in the sight before him. Two tiny four-legged forms, one as green as peppermint with a white-streaked mane and tail, while the other was a soft beige and sported blue-and-purple hair growing from her head and hindquarters. The most striking thing about them, though- besides the fact that they were cowering next to each other like puppies in a thunderstorm- were the marks on their flanks; Greenie sported a lyre, while Creamy bore what looked like three wrapped candies.

“...are ponies,” he finished.

Creamy stopped trembling after a moment, and dared open her eyes- only to have them lock on him, freezing her in place. The only movement she dared make was to tap her companion on the withers. “...are we dead yet?” Greenie whimpered.

“Stop asking dumb questions and look!” Creamy hissed.

Greenie's golden eyes slowly opened, looked up and focused on him... and with a sharp gasp, she immediately shot to her hooves and rushed over to him, making him take a step back in surprise as she bounced around him. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!” she practically yelped. “Bon-Bon! Do you know what this is?!”

Creamy- or, rather, Bon-Bon, which would make Greenie “Lyra”- gave her a blank stare. “...no?”

“This is a human!” Lyra sat in front of him, gazing up at him in fascination, reinforcing the earlier “puppy” impression he'd gotten. He couldn't help but chuckle. “I told you they exist, Bon-Bon! I had all the proof, all the stories! But nooooo, there's Bossy-Bossy Bon-Bon, telling me to just 'let it go' and 'find a better hobby' and 'stop building that scale-model animatronic replica of a hand', but- hormph.”

Apparently ponies squeaked when another shoved a hoof into their mouths. It was all he could to do not just burst out laughing at this point. “Um,” Bon-Bon said nervously, still staring up at him even with her hoof muting Lyra. “I, uh... that is, we... are, um....” She glanced around at the wreckage of the robots that had been menacing them just moments before. “We're... well, thankful for your help, um... sir?” She managed a slight smile when he chuckled and nodded. “We don't know what we would've done if you hadn't protected us from those... things.”

“Well, lass, I've had more than a few run-ins with those... things. Always glad tae put 'em down.” He rubbed his chin. “But, errr... how did ye wee lasses end up here?”

“That was kind of my fault.” Lyra pushed Bon-Bon's hoof away, shooting her a look before turning her gaze back to him. “I, um... was experimenting with spells I was using for research into you humans! But unfortunately, one of the tomes I was using had suffered water damage, and some ink had leeched onto a page for a scrying spell from a teleportation spell from the previous page....”

“Long story short, Lyra botched a spell to find humans and brought us to a planet full of them instead.” Bon-Bon sighed. “And... lots of other creatures as well, from what we've seen. We've been lost here for four days.”

He frowned slightly; if these ponies were anything like the ones Jack had told him about, it probably would've been a rough four days for them hereabouts. “ 'Ave ye, now? An' why did Aku's drones decide tae bother ye?”

“If you mean... those things-” Bon-Bon eyed the ruined robots distastefully- “then we don't really know. They just said something about taking us back to their master for... what was that weird word they used? 'Vivisection'?”

“Ach. We'll be 'avin' none 'a that.” He knelt down. “I'll bring ye two back to m' castle, keep ye safe 'till ye can find yer way back home.”

“You'd do that?!” Bon-Bon's expression brightened, while Lyra looked positively ecstatic. “Oh, sir, we'd be eternally grateful! Thank you so much!”

Lyra was nearly vibrating in midair from excitement. “A castle! Built by humans! Full of humans! With human doors and human windows and human stairs and human- hormph.”

“Lyra, dear, stop flaking out in front of the human; you're disturbing him.” She paused a moment, then looked back up at him. “Um... sir? It seems awfully rude to just call you 'the human'....”

Now he laughed, though quietly as to not frighten them. “They call me 'Th' Scotsman', lass,” he said. “But m' real name is-”

boom

The smile fled his face as he looked over his shoulder; a thick plume of dirt and smoke jutted up from one of the nearby canyon walls. “Aku's drop pods,” he muttered. “Lasses, we oughta be movin'. Seems word 'a yer presence has spread.”

“Um... yeah, I think we should be moving too.” Lyra's earlier enthusiasm had vanished, replaced by worry that was reflected on Bon-Bon's face. “Please, lead the way.”

(-)

So good was his mood at the moment that he didn't even care if his brothers and cousins saw him walking along the road, playing “The Brown-Haired Maiden” on his pipes, with a miniature pastel-colored pony perched on each shoulder. Sure, they'd probably get in a few jibes about being seen with creatures that looked like escapees from a girl's storybook, but there was something about the little equines that he found positively cheerful.

Bon-Bon showed impeccable taste in music by being utterly fascinated by his bagpipes, closing her eyes and bobbing her head a little along with its soulful notes; Lyra was less enthused, and kept her ears down while instead intently examining his clothing and weapons. Her natural question about his leg had been countered with a brief but earnest “ye'd rather not know”, but that hadn't stopped her from asking about pretty much everything else in Creation before he'd decided that music was necessary for a harmonious journey.

Finally, his clan's keep rose in the distance, and in very little time he was carrying the two ponies through its grand gates. Lyra looked completely awestruck at every last thing she saw, while Bon-Bon did her best to curb her friend's enthusiasm. After a few moments, they reached the kitchen, where the love of his life was thudding a cleaver against a cutting board, dicing vegetables for stew. “Love-muffin!” he called out, arms wide. “I'm home!”

“Ach! There ye are!” She snorted, driving the cleaver a few inches into the board. “About time! Seems ye always get a case o' wanderlust whenever there's work t' be done.” She wiped off her hands with an old tattered rag before turning to face him. “Thought I heard explosions outside, too... so what'd you get up to while you were- ponies?!”

She practically beamed at the two miniature equines, while they looked somewhat uncomfortable under her gaze. “Where've ye been hidin' these two adorable little things, ye blaggart?” she questioned him.

“Jes' found 'em today. Somma Aku's wind-up toys were givin' them grief, so I, y'know... stepped in an' resolved things.”

“Awww. Y'poor dears. I'll get ye some vittles, jes' a sec.” She turned back to the kitchen table; Lyra leaned over his shoulder to whisper to Bon-Bon. “But... we're not deers; we're ponies.”

“Lyra....” The earth pony made a face as the unicorn gave her a cheeky grin. “You never turn off, do you?” Bon-Bon muttered, though she had the beginnings of a smile.

The two ponies had a seat in the enormous chairs that ringed the main dining table; both needed a considerable amount of conveniently-available objects underneath them to be able to reach. Oddly enough, Lyra chose to sit in a manner not unlike a human's, while Bon-Bon took a more sensible position. “An' here ye go, ladies!” his wife called out, sliding two plates with heaping helpings of fruits and vegetables along the table to them.

The ponies eagerly tore into their meal, while his wife gave him a paltry helping of steak- barely three pounds. If Lyra and Bon-Bon were bothered by him eating meat, they didn't show it... but with the way they were obliterating their food, it seemed that they were more intent on filling empty bellies. He finished his pre-meal snack and watched as his wife moved about the kitchen with the grace and lightness of a butterfly. The ponies, having eaten their fill, watched as well. “Wow, she's actually rather nimble,” Bon-Bon commented.

Lyra nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you wouldn't expect movement like that from somepony so fa- hormph.”

Bon-Bon's hoof was just a second too late. His wife froze in mid-movement; the bowl she was holding dropped to the floor, spilling thick stew all over. Slowly, she turned to stare at the mint-green pony, arms trembling, hands in fists at her sides, and eyes narrowed with murderous intent. Bon-Bon's pupils shrank into dots. “You really don't ever turn off, do you, Lyra....” she whispered.

He sighed and turned to look at the two now-terrified ponies. “Girls... run.”

-

The main gates to the keep practically exploded open; Bon-Bon galloped for all she was worth along the drawbridge, with Lyra hanging on for dear life, draped over her back. Far too close behind was the Scotsman's wife, waving a rolling pin and screaming invectives at them, pursuing them off the bridge and down the path towards the canyon.

Timidly, the Scotsman peeked his head past one heavily-damaged door. “Buttahcup!” he called out. “Go easy on th' wee lasses... they're jes' ponies!”