Quiet and lonely does he pace down the halls of the infirmary. No scolding nurses, no gawking visitors.

He wasn't planning on returning here but he can't help but be curious. Her family must have caught wind of her staying at the Castle, if not, relocated her to the Canterlot orphanage. Certainly after his two week hiatus she wouldn't be found in the same place. No matter the case, he makes a path towards her room.

He doesn't remember the room number but recalls the trail. As a matter of fact, he can see it coming up at an annex, just before the hall splits into four ways.

The curtain is moved over the door window. Perhaps another patient now takes residence. It might be uncalled for to peek into a stranger's room though he can't find it in himself to care. He takes the door handle and clicks it open as softly as he can, then proceeds to push the door in to scope inside.

"Nh?" he questions in a quiet huff of breath.

She's still there. Furi is still resting on the same bed she was two weeks ago, moreover, she's staring right at him fully awake. Her eyes beam at setting sights on him, she can't help but gasp and quickly sit up.

But before she can make any sort of loud sound or speak wildly, Crimson puts his finger to his mouth to silence her. He makes his entrance with this gesture until he's fully inside and closes the door behind him. Making way towards her, he notes the other infirmary bed in the room is empty but shows remnants of a recent occupant. A deflating balloon, a toy, and a few crumbs that need to be swept up. Though now, they are no longer here. But she still is.

"Hey, girly," the man coos.

"Cremsun!"

He sits on the edge of her bed while she scurries out of her blankets, moving to throw herself onto his stomach for a hug. He doesn't recall ever telling her his name, but he supposes it isn't a mystery. "How you doin', Furi?" he asks as he holds her tiny form against him.

"Okay!"

"Great to hear, darlin'," he replies while they ease off each other to make eye contact. "The nurses haven't let you go yet?"

"Noh," she states with obvious guilt. A white lie she follows up with, "Um... the nurses let me go, but I said I don't wanna go."

"Don't wanna leave the Infirmary? How come?"

"Um... I, uhm... I waited for you. Nurses said you visited me, but I never saw you. I... wanted to see you. Hoped you would visit again."

The man's heart melts drip by drip. Replying to her becomes a brief challenge while wrestling with his pity. "... You're a gem, Furi. Here I am."

"Mm!~" she nods and hugs him again, plastering her cheek on his stomach.

His eyes squint slightly as they glisten under the moonlight. He is no stranger to the worst of the world, but it hardly gets any easier. Especially after his promise to his sister: become a man more willing to accept his feelings, don't be afraid to show others how you feel, don't be afraid to cry.

It's backfiring now. Becoming soft. Frail. Emotions don't win you a showdown against a cattle rustler, they don't put food on the table.

Crimson's front solidifies. He can't turn soft. He can't let himself become frail. The more he reflects, the more it's resonating with him... it might not be what Viola wanted of him, but... this isn't home. The winds of regression are his only solace in this foreign land.

He clears his throat to banish the sentimental frog. "-- No one else's come to give you a visit?"

"Uhm... Moonlight! She visit me two times!"

"Sssh, Furi. A little quieter, mm?"

She emits a chirp of regret. "I'm--I'm... sorry."

"Quite alright, darlin'. Just Moonlight?"

"Mhm. And the nurse. The nurse talks to me a lot."

No family, it seems. Crimson bites the inside of his cheek with reservation. "No one else?"

"Noh."

"..."

"... Mama and papa can't visit me."

He bites the inside of his cheek a little too hard.

"... Would they visit me if they could?"

"'Course they would, Furi. Don't be thinkin' stuff like that now, c'mon."

"... Okay. I'll think about... how mama and papa were happy."

"Atta girl. Tell me all about it."

"The farm this year make a lot of wheat and rice. We were going to Appleloosa with big sis to sell it. Papa was really happy, and papa made mama happy. Big sis was happy too. We were going to Appleloosa... but the bad ponies came."

Crimson clenches his teeth together and stays quiet.

"I don't remember a lot. Boom! Boom! It was loud and my ears hurted. Mama and papa told me to hide. Papa even flipped over his wagon to hide me. Papa was very strong."

"Strong and brave."

"Strong AND brave," she echoes. "Papa was never afraid of the bad ponies. And mama too. They told me they loved me... and then I didn't see them anymore. They were fighting the bad ponies... then the yellow pony with the pretty pink eyes saw me."

"Mm," he hums to her in understanding. Must have been once the Elite arrived... just a minute too late. But something clicks with him, a part that doesn't quite fit in the puzzle. "... What happened to your big sis?"

"Mmm..." she reflects briefly. "... She had to go do something. I can't remember."

"Right before you were attacked?" he asks skeptically.

"Mm-mm," she shakes her head against him, making a slight mess of her mane. "A lot before. She didn't get on the wagon with us. A stranger called her so she had to go, she said she was going to meet us at Appleloosa, but we never made it there."

"Does yer sister know where you are now?"

"... Mm-Mm," she shrugs.

Crimson furrows his brows in frustration. Seems like Moonlight didn't do a very good job at getting into contact with Furi's sibling. He sighs through his nose, keeping his gaze towards the night sky past the window. It isn't right that she's still all by her lonesome. "... Maybe I can find 'er for ya'. Gonna do some explorin', maybe I'll run into 'er. What she look like?"

"She's a wing pony like me. Mama always called her 'cuhneeng'. She said it means smart. She's brave, too. Papa always call her brave."

"Wing pony, hm? What about her looks? Somethin' adorable like you? Beautiful silver hair, coat white as snow?" he compliments as he gently strokes her mane along its natural direction.

"Mm-mm," she disagrees dreamily, falling focused to Crimson's caressing. "Black hair. She had black hair. And her coat looks like..." she lulls her eyes towards Crimson's idle hand, ogling the skin on it. She reaches over to take it into her two hooves and holds it closely, marveling at how odd and intricate the human hand is. "... Looks like your coat. This color."

"Tan?"

"Oah, I've heard that word before! Mm, yeah! Tan!"

"Strange. She looks nothin' like you. Black hair with a tan coa--..." Crimson freezes.

Tan coat.

And black hair.

...

"She's not my real sister. But I like to call her that. She's really nice to me and gives me things... but mama and papa said she's not very kind."

"Brave and cunning, but not very nice, huh?"

"Mhm. But she was always kind with me! She made me food once!"

"... W-What was, uh... what was her name?"

"Dahlia. She told me it's a flower!"

...

Crimson feels a dry soreness in his throat, a sahara formed in his mouth.

"If you find her," Furi begins, "t-tell her I lost her tailband... b-but tell her it was an accident! I-I-I didn't mean to lose it!"

"... Yeah," he murmurs as his eyes slowly refocus.

"Please?"

"... I-I will. Heh, I sure will. I'll find her 'n let her know. Promise. Don't you worry none. ... Ain't sleepy yet?"

"... N... Nooo," she says as she grips him tighter, obviously lying. Crimson already knows that she's trying to stay awake so that he stays here with her. He finds it a grey note that she'd assume he'd leave... at least, not tonight.

"Welp," he lifts his chin as he fakes a yawn. "I sure am. Think you can keep me company while I doze off fer the night?"

"Mm!" she nods with enthusiasm.

Crimson lifts her up with both hands as he kicks off his sandals and adjusts himself to rest properly on the bed. He brings her back down on his chest and lets her accommodate herself.

...

And just like he thought, she's out like a light not fifteen minutes after.

And as a matter of fact, he feels himself slipping away just as quick.

‎

---

‎

Annoying as it may have been, at least it's over. He should have anticipated the Infirmary staff coming in early in the morning to check on Furi, but he didn't. His lack of consideration netted the nurse to bark at him incessantly about how "he shouldn't be wandering around" and "he hasn't fully healed yet." No matter the case, he escaped their clutches by agreeing to a quick check-up to be formally released.

Now arriving back at Swirl's room, he reaches for the door and pushes it in, quickly glancing left and right to check for signs of life. Strix and Bulletpoint are still asleep on the couch, likely going to regret existence once they wake up. Swirl is caught in the kitchen area eating some sort of... something. A boxed breakfast, it seems. Her attention is shot his way when he steps in and shuts the door.

"Mornin'," Crimson waves two fingers.

Swirl doesn't verbally reply since she has food in her mouth but nods. Once she swallows and levitates a napkin to her muzzle she clears her throat. "Would you like some?" She tilts the black plastic bowl his way, displaying its contents.

"'Ts that?"

"Broccoli and cheese casserole."

"Fer breakfast?"

"Would you like some or not?"

"Sure. Thanks."

She nods again with a mouthful and turns to the fridge. She opens the upper door and takes out a box exactly like hers with her magic. She peels off the plastic cover only halfway before she pops it into some sort of oven. She cranks a nob and it makes a noise, followed by a light coming on inside. "It will be ready in a few minutes."

"Appreciate it." He returns his attention to the pair sleeping on top of each other on the couch, manes and tails frazzled. "Don't reckon those two will be up any time soon."

"They sleep through anything. Especially if they are hung over."

"Hmh. Wondering how much they downed. You don't drink?"

"No. Beer is repulsive and that is all they buy."

"Lot more out there than beer. Just about everyone I know can sit through a mixed drink. Wine, maybe. Ask 'em to pick somethin' up more fruity."

"I am not a fan of alcohol."

"Can respect that. Safe to assume you've had a swig?"

"I have, and I still regret it to this day."

"Lemme guess, got shit-faced 'n hated yerself the next mornin'?"

"... Something to that effect."

"Happens to nearly everyone, ain't gotta be embarrassed about it."

"I do not see myself drinking any time soon."

"Hmh. I'll try to hold you to that. Used to have a drinkin' problem myself, kickin' it was rough."

Beeet, beeet, beeet!

Both of them eye the oven as it signals the food is ready. Swirl opens the door but leaves the tray inside, "Let it sit for two minutes. It is too hot to eat right now."

"Okie-doke."

"Bulletpoint also has a drinking problem, but he makes no attempt to better himself. Through his own irresponsibility, he gets my sister to drink too much."

"They ain't gettin' hammered every day now, are they?"

"No, it's always weekends like today. They at least know not to drink while on-duty."

"Wouldn't call what they got a problem, then. Just... not very bright. Speakin' of duty, you ain't got nothin' to do today?"

"I have not had anything to do for weeks. I have no current assignment from the Guard, neither do I a research task from the Consortium. As I told you last night, I am simply waiting."

"Hm. Now I get why you wanted to prod at me so badly. Gettin' borin' around here, ain't it?"

"To put it lightly, yes. Very boring. But this is besides that fact. I do not want to study you simply to pass the time, I am truly curious. The train to Las Pegasus arrives and leaves in..." Swirl glances to the wall clock, reading it to be 7:30, "... an hour. Would you be ready to go with me at that time?"

"Sure thing. Don't got nothin' to pack so I'm ready whenever."

Swirl nods in confirmation. Her horn charges up as she takes the box of food from the oven and a fork from the dishrack. She levitates them over to Crimson, suspending them inches from his chest. He takes them and tugs them lightly out of her aura, causing it to disperse.

"Thankya'."

"You are welcome."

Crimson peels the plastic covering back almost all the way but leaves it attached at the end. He looks down at this meal. Fairly standard broccoli-cheese and breading casserole. Not his first choice of breakfast, but food is food. He raises the fork to jab down and eat.

‎

---

‎

The train ride to Las Pegasus was spent with Swirl dozing in and out of sleep, having Crimson realize that she hardly slept a wink. He supports her sleeping form until they arrive, where she awakes on her own a few minutes before stopping. The man tried to assure her he didn't mind being a pillow, but she apologized anyway.

They make quick pace through the city of marveling ponies that wish for any excuse to halt the exotic human and probe him. The guards patrolling the city recognize Swirl and keep the crowd controlled.

Now ascending up the magic-powered elevator to the summit of the Las Pegasus Research Building, the door pings out their arrival.

Swirl takes the lead in entering the lab with Crimson just behind. A quick glance around tells him that nothing has changed. There does appear to be some sort of cube on the right-most cubical resting on a desk, it vaguely resembles the mini-ANA that Moonlight invented. Probably some sort of 'personal take' by Second-Head Collateral.

To the man's pique, the office is pretty much empty, save for the familiar hoofsteps in the left-most cubical.

Deja-vu sparking, the same Scribe as before peers her head past her cubical at hearing an arrival. Her expression is equally as mesmerized as before. With a ear to ear smile, she gasps, "Do my eyes deceive me?"

"Reckon yer glasses are clean," the man simpers. "Howdy, Lightheart."

"I-It's so good to see you, Crimson!" her cheeks tint lightly. "And you too, Scribe Swirl! What brings the both of you to my faraway lair?"

"Good afternoon, Scribe Lightheart," Swirl states seriously. "Is the microscope currently in use?"

She shakes her head, "No, ma'am! Not that I know of! You two need it for something?"

"Yes, we will be running a few tests with it. We should be finished quickly."

"All yours, take your time!"

"What'cha doin' all alone here anyways?" Crimson inquires breezily.

"Just finishing up my latest project! The other two needed to run a few errands, they didn't say when they'd be back."

"Righty'o. Thanks, Lightheart."

"Of course! I'll be in my cubical if you two need anything!" Her eyes track Crimson as she turns to walk to her cubical. A spark of something certainly remains in them.

Crimson returns his attention to Swirl who already makes pace towards the middle cubical at the far end of the lab. He follows behind her and stops at the desk, leaning his left thigh on it as he peers out of the windows. He watches the world move about below while Swirl accommodates some items across the table.

She acquires a clipboard and pins a paper on it while wetting a quill with ink. She scribbles a list with empty rectangular boxes at the end of each point. "I have formulated a number of simple tests." She attracts Crimson's attention, but keeps focused on writing. "None difficult but require your cooperation."

"'Course. We gettin' started?"

"Yes. The first test is that of your blood. I would like to examine it first and foremost. Do needles frighten you?"

"To death."

She glares at him with a severe lack of enthusiasm. Her magic channels to levitate a small metal syringe from the table. "Extend your arm please." He does as she asks and presents it. The syringe levitates over to pierce his forearm right into a vein, where her magic pulls the plunger up to suck out his life essence. Once filled, she extracts it with grace.

Her attention is drawn to his forearm, which would normally be bleeding slightly, even lifting over a cloth to pat him down. The red dot on his arm drips no blood.

"Somethin' the matter?" Crimson asks.

"... Nothing." She turns towards the large mass of technology on the table, a very early-model microscope. She takes a small, clear plastic tray and dots on some of Crimson's blood from the syringe. After tilting the tray several directions to get the blood to spread a little, she places it under the guise of the microscope. She looms into the goggles and scrutinizes what she sees. "At this time, I will be studying your..." She reels back and gasps, as if something startled her.

Crimson raises a brow at her, curious of her reaction. She snaps her gaze over to him as if it was his fault.

"Now I know somethin's the matter. Spill it."

"... Your blood cells..."

As Swirl is having a little bit of trouble speaking her mind, Crimson halts her. "Save the words, let me take a gander instead."

She steps aside for him. Crimson scooches and practically has to squat down to look into the goggles. His vision blurs at the lens focusing until they present the situation crystal clear.

"Hwooh..." Crimson muses as he gazes at his own lifeline. The red blood cells dying on the clear tray are... glowing almost. The tiny pool of red has glittering golden light all about it. He hears a click come from the microscope and his vision distorts again.

"I am enhancing the microscope," Swirl explains. "You should be able to get a closer look... and please describe what you see."

Crimson's hazel orbs marvel at what is inside of him. The precision of the microscope is bearing witness to what appears to be small golden molecules which dance inside each cell."... M-... My Arch. I'm... lookin' at it. Looks... almost looks like it's got a mind of its own. Just movin'. Dancin', even. Goin' around like it's havin' a hoedown."

"Golden micro-molecules imbued inside every blood cell in your body. Your... Arch."

"Yeah..."

Swirl uncomfortably fidgets in place, watching Crimson as he gawks into the microscope... waiting... waiting. He's not mentioning it. "Crimson..."

"Mm?"

"... By chance, is your blood..." she trails off as she musters the courage to actually say it. "... Is your blood speaking to you?" The man lifts his eyes from the microscope with furrowed brows. "Y-Yes, I know, what I just said sounds completely absurd, but I am telling the truth!" Crimson looks far from trusting. "I am! I, uhm... the voice. The one which spoke to me. It sounded very much like you."

"Can't lie to you, Swirl, that's easily one'a the weirdest things anyone's ever told me."

"Please," she calls for his silence. "I am trying to explain. ... Here, excuse me," she demands commandeering of the microscope. Crimson sidesteps and allows her the reins. She peers into it again. "... T-There. There it... there it is again. Your voice. You're whispering to me, but I do not... hear it. N-- I-- No, I hear it, yes, but... not with my ears." Her ears fall flat on her head. "But instead in my head. My mind."

"What's the voice sayin'?"

"Oh! Brilliant suggestion. I-I will try to repeat what it is sayin'--" she shakes her head, "SAYING. What it is saying."

Crimson brings his knuckle under his nose, stifling a chuckle at her unsuspected country-ism. Swirl sharply turns to stare daggers. "Go right ahead," he insists with a grin.

She fixates her attention back to the microscope. "... It is saying... uhm." She squints her eyes, honing in on the voice murmuring to her. "Listening... to you speak. Your voice... calms me. Keep..." she furrows her brows, trying to recant after it. "Keep focused. Focus on it."

Crimson's smile falters at listening to her echo the voice. There's a feeling growing inside him that... --

Swirl backs away from the microscope to stare into the void. Equally, Crimson gawks at her without saying a word.

A mindless silence progresses for a few seconds before Swirl shakes her head. "Yes, uhm, this is highly unusual, but we must continue. This will be regarded at a later date. There are still several tasks needing to be completed."

"... Right."

Swirl levitates the clipboard over and focuses a little too intently on it, trying to block out what she just experienced for the sake of the experiment. "Next... next we shall test your reaction to external stimuli."

"Not sure what that means."

"How you react to things happening to you. I will perform four different tests on you and gauge your reaction based on each event."

"Simple enough."

"I only need your consent that you agree to every test I shall perform."

"Not against progress."

"Good. Then you consent."

"Well, sure. Though you haven't explained what exactly yer gonna do."

"Telling you would defeat the purpose. But be assured that these tests are well within the assumed boundaries of your apparent physical and mental maximum."

"... Uuuh..."

"Do you consent or not?"

"Alright, yeah, whatever. Do yer tests."

Swirl nods once and quickly writes something down onto her clipboard. She glances towards Crimson and locks eyes with him. Naturally, he stares back.

Slight discomfort stakes him after she keeps staring. He eyes her back silently, assuming this might be one of the tests.

"I will begin your tests with an unpleasant physical reaction," she states seriously.

Nevermind, then.

Swirl proceeds to lift her hoof and hit Crimson's thigh with visible effort, to which his brows raise in confusion. The punch didn't hurt him in the slightest but certainly caught him off-guard. And after a moment staring at each other, the unicorn scribbles into the clipboard. "Please level your head with mine."

With the same dubious front, Crimson obeys her order and crouches down to meet her at eye-level. She takes a step closer to him and leans in, her lips near his left ear. "Left," she whispers quietly, with the warmth of her breath to tingle his lobe. She then pulls away to reenact the process into his other ear, "Right."

Crimson's shoulder blades tense together slightly at the unexpected stimuli. He again gawks at the mare as she pulls away and analyzes his reaction, thereafter scratching the quill against parchment. Then, she brings over a flask of some sort of thick, goopy blue liquid and offers him to drink it.

He eyes it with great displeasure, but putting faith in her that it won't kill him, he takes it from her magic and takes a sip. It feels even worse now that it's in his mouth, as if it were latching onto the insides and hanging on for dear life. And it's sour. Very, very, sour. Like if lemon was a chemical compound turned into watery gelatin.

He forces it down with a mighty gulp and his nose scrunches. Swirl takes the flask back and sets it down on the table.

"Well done. Lastly, smell this," she orders while lifting a small orange packet of... something, to Crimson's nose. The packet itself is just a square cloth, but something inside emanates a strange smell. It is not unpleasant, but it's difficult to describe. Like if he was smelling... someone. A body odor of some kind that isn't exactly bad or good. "Do you enjoy this scent?"

"Don't hate it."

Swirl nods and notates her clipboard. "Next. Provide answers to the following questions." Crimson simply nods, expression still fixed. "What is your favorite color?"

"Grey."

"What is your favorite food?"

"Mmm... turkey and mashed potatoes."

"What is your favorite drink?"

"If it's draft beer, it's down the hatch."

"What is your favorite pass time?"

"Shootin' my revolver. Bottles, posts, coyotes, you name it."

"What is your favorite time of day?"

"Evenin', when the sky's orange."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"..." Crimson's growing smile drops instantly. "... Little dark, ain't it?"

"Answer the question."

"Yeah."

"Can you recall the names of those you have killed?"

"Not all of 'em."

"Can you count the number of lives you have taken?"

"No."

"When was the last time you took a life?"

"... 'Bout... a month ago. Had to kill a dragon. Didn't really have a choice in the matter."

"What were you thinking about when you took their life?"

"Protect Moonlight."

Swirl continues to scribble quickly as her questions come with little spacing between them. "Would you kill again?"

"Probably."

"Do you ever dream of faces from those you have killed?"

"... Not anymore."

Swirl affirms a nod as she jots down some last bits of information. "Now I will give you a few scenarios. Please give me your best course of action for each, as well as your reasoning."

"'Kay."

"Think of your most treasured possession. The thing you love most. Do not tell me what or who, keep that to yourself. Suddenly, it is being taken away by someone far stronger than you. You cannot barter with them, you cannot defeat them in battle. What do you do?"

"... Die trying to get them back."

"Say now you gain the ability to retain your most treasured possession. In exchange, you must sacrifice your second most treasured possession. Do you do it?"

"... I..." the man's brows furrow at the top of his eyes. "... 'Mean, I'd..." Swirl admires his internal toil, letting him decide uninterrupted. Eventually, he greets his indecision. "... Can we, uh... can we skip this one? Kinda need'a think on it more."

"Very well. Next. Think now on your life. Think on the many events you have lived through. If you could erase one decision you made, what would it be?"

"... Never would'a left."

Swirl lifts her left brow, giving him the air to elaborate.

"... Home. When my ma' passed away, I got... I got very upset. 'Bout a bunch'a stuff. Had to take my anger out on somethin' I didn't care about. Just started... hittin' things. Destroyin' things, private property. Drinkin' too much... just... gettin' into trouble, really. My ruckus drew some unwanted attention, 'n, well... got picked up by the worst group of individuals on the face of the earth... rest is history. If I just stayed home that day..."

"And lastly, image a great friend. Someone you know and love who is not related to you. If you were to leave them, and both of you knew it was the last time you would see each other, what would you tell them?"

"Tell 'em..." Crimson trails off for a moment, envisaging the scenario more than he probably should. "... tell 'em everything's gonna be alright. And I'll always be with 'em... even in spirit."

Swirl notates the clipboard and turns away from him, keeping eyes on everything she has written. "Did you come up with an answer to the question you skipped?"

"... Haven't. Sorry."

"Choosing not to answer is still technically an answer. I will use that as your decision. I appreciate your cooperation, Crimson. This concludes the tests. I will return to you with the results soon. I cannot give you an estimated timeframe right now, but rest assured that you will be informed of my findings."

"Gotcha."

"Now. Go speak to Scribe Lightheart."

"Hm?"

"What you told me last night; your endeavor involving the humans of Equestria. Consider it a coincidence, but it just so happens that she is very knowledgeable on the subject, so if you have any questions or concerns..."

Like a match striking fire, what initially sounded like a demand for him to leave her alone sets in. "Super. Thanks, Swirl." She simply nods in response, still looking over the clipboard.

Sliding his hands into his pockets, he takes a few steps backwards from Swirl, still eyeing her through drooping eyes. He makes an idle stare for a second or two before turning himself around to mosey towards Lightheart's cubical. As he appears into view, the purple scribe immediately turns her eyes his way but continues holding an electrical apparatus in her magic.

"Howdy, ma'am."

"Hey there! What can I do my favorite man for?"

"Well now, ain't that the compliment."

"Doesn't stop it from being true! How can I help?"

"Actually relates to that very thing."

"My favorite man?"

"Close. Humans. The lot of 'em."

Lightheart sets the circuit board she was holding down, giving Crimson her full attention. "Oh? Um... of course. I'd be glad to help. I'm well informed in the subject! It's actually my secondary specialty aside from electrical engineering."

"Stellar. Just wanna ask you a few bullets so I can get a good scope'a things here in Equestria. Ain't versed on 'em even though we've got the same label."

"Wow, that's something for the books. The first sapient human in Equestrian history is not familiar with his own kind! But, that is to say you have never had an interaction with them, right?"

"Ah, nah, I have. A handful."

"Ooo! Could you recant them for me? At the very least your most memorable interaction?"

"Most memorable... mm... yeah. Got attacked by 'em. Tooth 'n nail. Bit me and scratched me to hell."

Lightheart's smile hits the ground hastily. She adjusts her glasses and purses her lips. "That is not at all how I'd hoped. I am very sorry for having asked."

"It's alright, Lightheart. Don't bother me in the slightest, not you nor them. Actually, them attackin' me is why I've been so interested in 'em."

"You enjoy pain?"

"Not what I meant. Curious as to why they are like they are."

"Oh! Oh. Ehehe... v-very sorry. W-Well, like I said, I'm happy to answer any questions you may have!"

"Right, so..." he takes a pinching hold to his chin and mulls, "... guess, the first one'd have to be: why're humans stupid here?"

The question quickly throws Lightheart into a mental limbo, her eyes tell that she is looking for a good way to answer. "... Stupid..."

"Excuse the term. Just a layman in sayin' they ain't exactly at-par with our functionality."

His reiteration breathes comfort into the scribe. "Ah, right! I really should have caught on to that. Yes! They are not stupid. In fact, they are the most intelligent life-form outside we sapient types across all of Equus. They adapt to their environments very well, their sense of direction is astute, and their methods of communication are very intricate! Most of all, especially to the intrigue of we ponies, they can be trained like many other animals cannot!"

"Like... use tools?"

"Hoh! Precisely! Wow, amazing! How did you know that? Only a select few scholars know!"

"... Call it a lucky guess. Wouldn't be hard to assume," he says as he lifts his hand and twiddles his fingers.

"A guess worthy of your intellect, Crimson! They can use tools. They are also the most willing of any house pet to wear clothes. While other animals can be clothed, and they may not fight it, humans are some of the only species to actually enjoy it!"

"Hmh. Can tell you first hand that clothes are apart of the shtick. We need 'em."

"Oh, of course! With no innate protection from the elements, it's no wonder!"

"Yeah, you get it. Heh. Right, so, next question. A few of the humans I've seen had, uh... interesting skin colors. What's goin' on there?"

"With the skin colors?"

Crimson nods, "Purple, blue, pink, yellow, orange. Name the color, they had it. All I'm used to is tan and the varying saturations."

"How interesting. I'm on the reverse of the coin. Tan is a fairly rare color in humans. They usually vary in the colors you just mentioned."

"So them bein' colored like this is... normal?"

"It is!"

"And them bein' like... five-foot in height. Just over a meter tall and a half. That's..."

"Also normal? Yes! The tallest human currently recorded is--"

"Five feet, five inches," they both finish simultaneously.

Lightheart gasps with a hoof to her cheek. "Hahawow! Another amazing piece of information you already know! I beginning to think I should ask YOU for answers!"

Crimson waves his hand in easy disagreement, "Nah, certain you've got me beat. Just know a few tid-bits is all. Now, this brings me to my last question, and one I wouldn't blame you fer not havin' an answer to."

"I'll do my best! Ask away!"

"What's the origin of Equestria's humans?"

...

Lightheart's ears perk up. Her expression immediately sours.

"... Didn't think so."

"I'm very sorry. N-Not even the Royal Archives have that sort of information. We simply don't know."

"Reckoned. No worries, Lightheart. Guess, uh... replace that last question with this one: You happen to know where I can find some humans that won't attack me? Ones I can... I'unno, watch? Be around?"

"..." Lightheart's brows line the top of her eyes in critical contemplation. "... Weeell... mmm..."

"What about them human cattle things Celestia does? No chance I could interact with one there?"

"Oh, no, those humans aren't docile. They arrive under the effects of a tranquilizing compound that pacifies them. The magic in that tranquilizer is what has them obey orders to move, bow, etcetera. Those humans are usually tested on briefly for potential taming, but most are released back into the wild."

Crimson squints his eyes in distaste. "No dice then. Hmh. Don't suppose you might know of a place?"

"I... uh... I do. I have a source."

The man lights with a beam. "Well that's fantastic."

"Y-Yes, it would be, but... I-I need you to understand something about this... s-source of mine." Crimson shifts to caution at Lightheart's own. "I'll begin with a disclaimer that she is in no way an official affiliate to anything related to Canterlot and Equestria's Consortium. Her business and mine are completely separate. Her and I are only... friends. We've known each other since we were fillies, but we took very different paths in life. Y-You can say she is a little... ehehe... coo-coo in the coconut," she says as she twirls her hoof near her ear. "B-But she is actually much more informed about humans than I am! Possibly more than what can be found in our archives! Also, she has her own human. I'm not sure where she got it, but she has one."

"Crazy I can handle, yer source won't be a problem as long as I can study that there human."

"A-Again, disclaimer! I wouldn't recommend her. She might be a little more than just... 'crazy.' I-Insane, maybe! Obsessed with humans, really. I-If a pony would be requesting the same of her as you are, then maybe you could perform the research you desire, but since you're a human yourself, she... might be a hassle to deal with. I don't think she would even let you get anything done. She'd never leave you alone!"

"Hm... soundin' like a bit more than I'd like to chew... but even then, this is the only lead I've got right now. I could spend hours, days, weeks even, tryin'a get my own lead, but I'd rather take a chance on this first. If it don't work out, then I'll pathfind on my own."

"You're very right about that: it would take a long time to find another pacified human to interact with. Humans are a very sensitive topic to ponykind, you won't find many open enthusiasts. We have over-glorified events like fashion shows and stage plays featuring humans, where they are tamed in abundance, but good luck trying to get close to them. Any pony who owns a human is always uptight and protective. To make matters worse, the laws of Canterlot and every other major city punish dearly if you dare interfere with another pony's human. Even walking up to them and saying 'hi' could warrant a fine the cost of a house!"

Crimson squints in thought, recalling that he himself was found those very shoes. Or sandals. He comes to assume that the frontier-type environment that is a place like Dodge is vastly different politically and socially than the major cities. Even if he is wrong about this, at least the individuals that abetted in his favor weren't fined for all that they owned on that day.

The man takes a breath in and lets it out slowly. "So... where can I find this source'a yers?"

Next Chapter: Chapter 8: Thus Begins a Descent to Darkness Estimated time remaining: 17 Hours, 44 Minutes