Chapter 16: Memories of Youth
“Life’s not the breath you take.”

I don’t know how long we lay there for, waiting for the end to come or to somehow come out alive. All I knew was that after a while my ears just rang and thumped until they drowned out the sound of machine guns and spinning rotors from the gunship over us. Even then, after the sound of destruction was dead to my ears, I didn’t dare crawl back to look up and see if it was over for fear of being noticed if the machine was still around. Instead, we stayed still and waited.

For a while, my thoughts only rested on the relief that Felix was safe, if not terrified like me, and utter shock over how quickly the attack had come. I didn’t even care that it had happened anymore; no matter how long I spent trying to figure out how it came I couldn’t find an answer. Regardless of what had allowed it, the ponies had managed to fly the thing over and take out a town without warning, so they either had another pilot or Minx had killed the wrong pony. It didn’t really matter which one it was, I would probably never know anyways.

By the time my ears finally stopped ringing and allowed me to hear again, the sound of thumping rotors and firing guns was gone. At some point the attack had ended, but I didn’t know if it was because they had left or if someone had finally managed to take the thing down. I doubted it was the latter; even with my ruined hearing I would have heard the sound of a crashing or exploding gunship, right?

Either way, I finally managed to feel safe enough, or brave or stupid enough, to crawl out of my half-hiding spot. A part of me prodded that some pony might be waiting in town to kill any survivors, but I ignored it and just told myself it was over. Felix cautiously released the squeeze of his hooves around my leg as I backed out from under the collapsed stand but didn’t follow me out right away. The shuddering of his body had stopped a while ago, but I could see that he was still too scared to leave until he was sure it was safe.

To my relief, the gunship and any other ponies that my mind was worried may be around killing survivors were all gone. No more bullets zipped through the air of the city, and no more screams called out to anyone who may be able to help. Instead, most of the town lay still and silent, only bothered by the occasional stirring and groaning of wounded zebras. A few wobbled around on unsteady hooves to check the damage done to their homes, their faces locked in shock and grief at the sight of the destruction.

Every building I could see had been reduced to rubble with the exception of the apparently hardy barracks where soldiers would have been if they weren’t all out in New Oatleans, and even those were pockmarked and cracked by the barrage of fire that had rained down on them. Every structure that was less solidly built, including all of the homes and shops, had been toppled to piles where they stood, but it seemed that most of the survivors had been taking shelter in them during the attack. Those lucky few, like us, who had been untouched by the weight of their homes or the shots that peppered the housing, and still managed to wiggle out.

But what I noticed most was the smell lingering around the destroyed city. I didn’t know exactly what it was or where it came from considering no buildings appeared to have caught fire, but my nose constantly stung with the smell of something burning. It was as if the air itself had been ignited, but at least it didn’t come along with the stench of the dead bodies all around.

After taking a few minutes to take in the aftermath of the attack, my hooves lifted and carried me through the town, though I didn’t know exactly why. Perhaps it was some part of my mind that was morbidly curious about what was left, and to see for myself exactly how bad it had been outside of the park. Not much was left around where me and Felix had hidden; there was nowhere to really hide for those that were caught out in the open ground. That thought pushed a feeling of complete relief through my body, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was too good to be true that we both survived where everyone else had fallen.

When I finally reached what had once been the housing area, my heart sank at the feeling that I had seen that damage before. If the wreckage had been covered in ash and soot, I would have sworn that it was exactly like Shanty, just on a larger scale. Down each row, at least one survivor, but never more than four, scrambled around the skeletons of their homes trying to reach loved ones and neighbors who had not been lucky enough to get out or were trapped in their own homes.

Most were battered and covered in dirt and thin streams of blood from random cuts over their bodies. I felt some relief at the sight of at least a couple who looked untouched by the attack; those who were lucky like me and Felix and had somehow been spared from even the smallest injury. And still some others looked like they may die at any moment. Those with legs trapped under fallen roofs that had somehow cut clear to the bone when they landed; and still those who dragged themselves toward other survivors with messy stumps in the dirt behind them.

I tried not to look at those for too long.

But I think the worst were those who had managed to get their loved ones out of the tombs the shacks had become. Husbands and wives cried as they held the limp form of their spouse in their hooves, or what was left of them. And then there was the soul-shattering sight of a father trying to shake his young son awake in front of where he used to live. The stallion hadn’t even started crying yet, and I could hear his quiet pleas for the colt to wake up.

I stopped walking and watched for a minute or two, not sure if I was waiting for the child to wake up as well, or if I was just unable to look away because of that morbid spot in my mind that demanded I saw everything. I hoped it was the former, and I truly did start begging for the colt to suddenly move and stave off the misery of one more zebra. If it wasn’t for the blood spackled shard of metal embedded just behind his ear, I almost could have believed that it might happen.

Before I was able to shake out of the sullen place my mind had travelled, the stallion looked up at me with sad eyes, eyes that were finally starting to tear up as he realized the inevitable. “Please, can you help him?” he asked pitifully and stopped shaking the small body lying in front of him.

I wanted to tell him yes so badly, to somehow know a way to walk over to the lifeless body and magically make him okay, but I didn’t. Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t find a way to tell him what we both already knew; that his son was gone. I couldn’t help, and I couldn’t tell him the truth, so I did the only thing that I could think of.

I turned and walked away.

I didn’t dare look back at the devastated father who probably thought I had ignored him; I couldn’t bear to see him break down or continue trying to revive the son who was dead and gone.

Just beyond the housing area, my ears perked to a faint crackling sound that seemed to appear and disappear randomly. I shakily turned to my right and trotted toward where I thought it was, noticing quickly that I was walking up the familiar path to the bar at the center of town. To no surprise, the building was completely collapsed and riddled with bullet holes from the gunship just like the rest of Caesar’s Stand. Out front, just like everywhere else in the city, was a small pile of bodies right in front of where the door used to be, all cut apart and bleeding over each other and onto the ground.

It wasn’t nearly as much blood as I thought there would be, but the sight still made my guts surge for a moment. I could almost see the stream of zebras trying to run outside in the midst of the metal rain only to be cut down only a few feet outside with nowhere to go except over their friends and into the same fate. I shook the thought away and tucked it down with the sketch of a father in denial and lifeless lovers.

I turned my attention back to finding the crackling sound, which I discovered was alternating between static and playing broken up and hard-to-understand music. It didn’t take me long to figure out it was the radio from the bar, and yet I still decided to look for it further. I ended up climbing onto the collapsed roof of the destroyed building and following the tinny reverberation of the sound to a point almost at the middle of where it all fell down, but that was as close as I could get. Through a rather large cluster of holes that had been punched into the metal, I could see a flickering light from the front of the box that matched up with the coming and going of music and static.

After finding it unreachable, I lost interest and trotted off of the metal roofing, but suddenly found myself unwilling to even check the Remnant barracks at the far side of town. I’m not exactly sure what made me disregard them, but for some reason I decided that there wouldn’t be anyone there. If there was, then they would have fought back and shot down the gunship, right? After all, they would have bigger guns and maybe one of those rockets like the Scorpions carried around.

Somberly, I trotted back to where I had left Felix and kept my eyes on the dirt at my hooves. I already knew what was around me from only minutes before, and if I wanted to see it again all I had to do was close my eyes to picture the misery and death on either side. A broken shack, a bloodied corpse, a crying zebra…

I tried to push it all away into the pit of my mind where the worst of it already was, but that spot was already filled with more than it could hold. Everything since I had left Zeza bulged in my mind like a load too large for the sack carrying it, threatening to snap the stitching and let it all pour out over me. The death, the loss, the complete sense of failure at finding a safe and happy place for me and my brother to live; it all started falling out piece by piece as I made room for the new horrors.

I felt the roughness of dirt and gritty stone slam against my rump when I fell, but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I needed a break, and apparently my mind decided that the middle of the street, surrounded by the grief and pain of Caesar’s Stand was the place to take one. I longed for the peace of the last week; the only time since I had left when nobody I knew lost anything or got hurt. The time when leaving home didn’t feel like such a bad choice.

I just wanted a better place than where I had been, somewhere that I didn’t fear for what the next day would bring or wish that I wasn’t treated like a toy for someone else’s amusement. Instead, all I found was death and failure, like I had gone from one evil straight into something even worse. And the worst part was that I dragged my brother into it with me. I pulled him out of the normal life he once had; one with friends and school and being generally happy, at least from what I saw of him. And now he was surrounded by this.

Searing tears trickled down my cheeks and mixed in with the charred air until they fell to the dirt and clumped into balls of mud and dust; the feelings and memories that I hoped were being driven out to a place they would never bother me again. But it didn’t make it any better, I still felt the sadness and the anger with myself for bringing all of it into our life.

Even though I knew that it was not our fault Caesar’s Stand was reduced to rubble, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had helped bring it about. I was there when Minx and Solus pulled the trigger just outside Spur, and I helped fight back against the ponies who just wanted justice for what they had done. I was a part of it, and for that at least some of the blame was on me. That father lost his son because of us, these zebras lost their homes because we couldn’t let one pony live, and the one place I thought I might be able to be happy was nothing but dust and ruin because we chose to fight.

Everything I had tried to do for me and Felix had fallen apart because of one afternoon, and I couldn’t do anything to fix it.

I had to start all over…

My hoof pushed away the tears and replaced it with a splash of dust in my coat, forcing the bad thoughts back into the bag even tighter than before and piling them back on top of the things still sitting at the bottom. The things that I would never remove. I had to try again, for Felix’s sake and my own, even if I had already failed once. Even if I couldn’t be there with him when I finally found the place or the thing that made his life out here better than it was before, I needed to try for him. No matter how much I wanted to be there with him when it came.

I rose back onto unsteady legs and trotted forth weakly, held up by something I couldn’t name. I wanted to sit back down and stay there, to remain with the miserable masses of those who I had helped destroy, but I couldn’t. I had a job to do, promises to fulfill, and the hope that I might yet find what I wanted.

What I needed.

Felix wasn’t where I left him.

In fact, he wasn’t in the park anywhere. All I found where he used to be was the half-collapsed stand where we had hidden from the gunship when it arrived, the place we had ridden out the storm together and where I hoped he would still be when I came back. But instead, I found an empty hole.

My heart pounded in my ears and my blood rushed through my veins as I tried to think, tried to figure out what could have happened to him while I was away. There was no blood where he was lying, no sign at all that he had been pulled away or killed in the time I was looking around town instead of staying by his side like I should have. The bad thoughts started pushing at the bag again, threatening to unload themselves again and leave me a heap in the dirt after yet another failure. But I couldn’t let that happen yet.

Instead, I told myself that I had been gone longer than I thought, and that he must have gone looking for me. That’s what he did, he wasn’t missing, he didn’t get taken away or disappear without a sign. He was just walking around looking for his big sister.

I desperately held onto that assurance and spun away from our shelter, swiveled my head from side to side and started trotting around the side of town where I hadn’t walked. He must have gone the wrong way, because I would have seen him if he had followed where I went, we couldn’t have missed each other. Down each row of shacks I took in every body, hoping that down the next one I would see my brother aimlessly wandering in his search for me. But I didn’t find him among the wrecked homes and crumpled corpses. I only found what I had seen when I left him alone; the same survivors grieving the same deaths while those who were on the verge before finally passed.

It wasn’t until I reached the gate that I finally slowed and released the breath I never realized I was holding. My vision swam at the sudden release, and righted itself only after I took a deep breath and let my body fill with the air it had wanted since I started my search. My lungs stung from the effort, but my heart slowed and swelled with joy at the sight of my brother, still alive and standing, just inside the tattered and tilted gate.

That feeling faded and withered when I saw the tiny zebra beside him, and the stained coat of an older zebra in front of them. I could barely recognize the short, messy mane of the little colt beside Felix from where I was, mostly because the only time I had ever seen it before it was pasted to his head from the rain and merry puddle jumping.

I hesitantly stepped forward despite the overwhelming desire to avoid seeing who the two young zebras were standing over, only able to push past it because my brother was one of them. After a few seconds, I realized the small one, the little colt just tall enough to reach my chest, had his hooves on the blood speckled body under him. He shook at the coat gently, and muttered something that I wasn’t close enough to hear yet.

In a flash, my mind pulled out the picture of a father trying to revive his dead son, and I fought to fold it back up again while I prayed that I wouldn’t be adding a new one.

I stepped carefully around the drip-drop of blood from overhead where one of the guards had been shot down while trying to fight back against the attacker. I pretended not to see his back legs hanging from a railing without a chest or head attached to them. I could faintly smell the strange tingle from the blood, but it was tainted by the scent of burnt something hanging in the air; something I didn’t mind.

By the time I reached the three zebras, I couldn’t hold back the picture of the helpless father anymore. The colt was bent down slightly, his hooves pressing roughly into her chest now as the little zebra tried to shake life back into his mother as best he could. But even if he was the strongest equine in the Wasteland, there was no help his trembling hooves could give.

“Please, Mama,” he coughed and shook harder, barely able to move her body. “Wake up.”

I turned my gaze to Felix for a moment, for some reason hoping that he could think of something to say or do that would help, something that would at least get the poor thing to stop tormenting himself with wishes for something that could never happen. But he just stared down at the body, his eyes empty and shivering in his head at the sight.

Without thinking, I sat down beside the little zebra and looked down at him, unsure if what I planned to do would even work. It probably wasn’t the perfect thing to do, or even something he wanted, but it was all I could think of. Because I think that if it had been me, it would at least help.

I leaned in and gently put a hoof around him, pulled back his hooves from the body and hugged the foal close, expecting him to push me away and continue trying to wake up his mother even though she never would. Instead, the little body leaned into me and started crying. Not the subdued crying of an older pony, not like what me or Felix did, but the cry of a child too young to worry about holding in how they really felt. A wail that I hadn’t heard since Felix was just a baby.

He felt so small in my hooves as I held him and tried my best to make him feel safe, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen to him. I didn’t know if he had a father around to take care of him, whether he was dead or soldier off at war in the city who probably didn’t even know that his wife was dead and his child alone. I just knew that I had never seen him, or bothered to think about it at all before.

I knew I had to ask him at some point, to know if he had someone else that would come home and take him somewhere safe and raise him, but I didn’t want to. Not while he was still crying and dealing with the realization that his Mama was never coming back. And if he didn’t have anyone else, what would happen? Should I just leave him with another survivor and hope they take care of him? Or would I end up doing what I seemed to do with everyone I met who lost everyone they loved and take them along?

I didn’t want to do that, not with him. The Wasteland had nearly killed me and the others I was with more times than I cared to think about in my short time out there; it was not a place for a foal his age, or any age really. Even Felix and Tinker were too young in my mind, but I guess I didn’t have a choice with them. But with the colt I did, and I wouldn’t let him go through the things I seemed destined to experience.

Even though he’d already experienced some of the worst of it.

By the time the colt had finished crying and quieted down into a symphony of coughing and sniffing, Felix was sitting down beside me and staring at the gate emptily. I just leaned on him, not wanting to put down the colt who was cradled against my chest while he still needed someone to comfort him. Felix flinched at my touch, but soon he leaned in slightly, his body tense and quaking noticeably even though it wasn’t cold outside.

His coat scraped slightly against mine where we leaned into each other as a small patch of dried blood crumbled away from his shoulder; the remains of his close call when someone near him had been shot. At least that’s what I assumed had happened. But that wasn’t what I was worried about, at least not mostly. I was worried about how he just stared away, not saying or doing anything. It was like he didn’t know what to do, or what had happened. As if he didn’t know how to react to everything that he saw in the town, or the dead Praetor and her son.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked him quietly, wanting it to snap him back to the world or at least make him look at me.

He just nodded, didn’t even turn his head the slightest bit toward me.

My heart clenched at the sight, and I thought it might stop if he didn’t show some sign of life before too long. So I stopped looking and tried to distract myself while I forced another lie into my head, one that I begged to become truth sooner than later. He’ll be back to normal soon. He just needs time to sort it all out.

I wish I knew how much time it would take.

I turned my attention back to the colt in my hooves and leaned my head down to him, trying to keep my voice quiet and calm when I whispered to him. “What’s your name?” I’m not sure if I managed to keep the calm part, because I barely managed to get the words out around the dryness in my throat. He answered, but it was so quiet I couldn’t hear him. “What was that?” I asked gently and tried to pull him a little closer.

“Vulpe,” he piped and looked up with glossy red eyes.

“Vulpe, do you know where your father is?” I asked cautiously, hoping that it wouldn’t make the little guy wail again.

He shook his head indifferently, not even looking that he might cry again. “Went away before I was born.”

My chest tightened again as I went back to asking myself what to do. I couldn’t leave him, but taking him out into the hell of a life I seemed stuck in seemed almost as bad as just leaving him with his dead mother. And yet, I couldn’t think of anything else to do with him. I guessed that I could just leave him with another survivor and hope that they would take care of him, at least then he might know who he was with, but something about the entire situation made that seem wrong.

I had been part of the reason the attack came, and part of the reason little Vulpe’s mother had died. He didn’t know that, there was no way he could, and yet I still felt like I needed to make it up to him. I needed to make sure he stayed safe, and that he eventually found a place that wasn’t torn apart by war and the death of everyone he knew. Besides, Caesar’s Stand couldn’t truly be considered safe anymore, could it?

With the gunship around, I doubted anywhere was safe for us anymore.

So, no matter what I did with the poor colt, he would still be in danger. Even if he was in the safest place I could find, that machine would be able to find it and tear it down without warning; and then he would be in the same situation as he was now. With nobody to care for him, nobody to tell him it would be alright or to make him feel cared for. It was probably one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, but for some reason it felt like the right one.

And not only for him…

It’s all better now sweetie...

I shook the voice back out of my head and pulled Vulpe closer, deciding that if I was going to do it, I needed to make sure it was the best option for him. That there was nobody else he would rather stay with, because strangers like me were probably at the very bottom of his list of people to stay with.

“Vulpe, do you have any other family here? Anybody who can take care of you?” I asked quietly. In the corner of my eye I caught Felix look over at me; finally managing to break from the trance that seemed to hold him ever since the attack; and for a moment I’m sure he knew what I was thinking.

Still curled in my hooves, the colt shook his head and sniffed again. “All dead,” he breathed and continued staring up at me, his eyes finally starting to dry and fill with a web of red veins at the corners. A knot shot into my throat at his reply, but I quickly forced it back down with a rough gulp. No child should be so casual or certain about saying that, not at his age, even if it was the Wasteland.

Though that question had decided what I was going to do, and I was certain it was the best way for me to make it up to Vulpe, I couldn’t seem to find a way to ask him. How was I supposed to start asking a child so young if they wanted to wander off with total strangers? It seemed wrong to even be considering it, but I really couldn’t think of anything else to do. Well, I could, but none that made any more sense than him going with us.

“Do you…” I started, but still couldn’t think of the words to finish my question. It shouldn’t have been so hard, it was just a question, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong to take him away from his home of rubble and ruin. “Would you feel okay coming with us?” I finally managed to force out the words and make them sound not-too-wrong. I just hoped he would know what I meant.

He didn’t offer any real reply, instead only nodding and trying to wiggle back onto his own hooves. A little stream of blood trickled down the back of his leg and ended in a rock that had apparently been thrown into his thigh, probably from the rotors on the gunship, but it didn’t seem to bother him. “Vulpe, is your leg okay?” I asked and rolled back to my own hooves with Felix beside me. He was already reaching into his dirty bag for a bandage.

The colt looked back to me. “It burns.”

Before I could say anything more, Felix was crouching beside him with a dirty wad of cloth in his jaw to gently remove the rock and cover the little pockmark in the colt’s skin. I was almost glad when the little guy didn’t whine or flinch, but under the circumstance it seemed like a bad sign of how he was doing. Children were supposed to cry when they got hurt, not sit there and act like nothing was wrong. If they did, something much worse was happening to them, and I had a feeling I knew exactly what that was for our newest orphan.

We didn’t care to stay in the town much longer after that. I gave Felix enough time to wrap up Vulpe’s leg and make sure the bleeding stopped, then we managed to find someone who knew how to work the gate before making our way back to our shack slowly. Our hooves dragged in the dirt while we walked, not feeling the strength to lift fully from the ground to take the next step, both of us weighed down by the things we saw piled up along with everything else that happened during our short time in the Wasteland. At least for me, I couldn’t begin to guess what Felix may have had bottled up in that head of his, but I doubted that the attack was the least of it.

Vulpe had fallen asleep before we were half way to our temporary home in the desert, his little body overwhelmed and exhausted from the day’s chaos and loss. I barely noticed his small body lying out between the bags on my back, but I didn’t mind either way. Between the death of his mother and the hole just under his rump, I didn’t think it was wise for him to walk all the way back with us, and chose to carry him.

I still worried about what would happen to him now that he was with us, and constantly feared that we would be thrown into another fight before too long, leaving us with yet another member of our little group who couldn’t help fight back. Charmer was the only one left who really knew how to shoot; I didn’t exactly count with how new the activity was; and that left her as the one who would have to defend us.

That realization hurt, the realization that no matter how much I wanted to protect my brother and now Vulpe, as well as Tinker if it came down to it, I was almost helpless to do any good. Even if I did fight, I seemed to have a nasty habit of getting shot or otherwise injured to the point that someone else needed to save me. Yes, we had Felix, who had at least some skill with medicine and some small amount of supplies to help, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough.

All of those thoughts piled together and walked to the front of my mind to form one question that I wanted to ignore, but didn’t have the strength to at the time.

What if I died?

What would happen to my brother, to Vulpe, to the two ponies travelling with us who were just as bad off as I was after everything we’d gone through? It was something I didn’t want to consider, didn’t want to think about or even try to plan for, but my tired mind insisted that I dwelled on it at least for a while. I hoped, I begged, for them to be okay without me, and it wasn’t exactly hard for me to accept that. I didn’t truly bring anything important or useful to the broken souls I travelled with, so would it even make a difference if I died?

Charmer could shoot and fight better than I could hope to do, and she had the experience of living out here that none of us could match. She knew where to go, where not to go, and how to protect herself and us if we got into trouble. And if that failed, and one of us was hurt, Felix would be there to save us. Even if it wasn’t the most medical knowledge in the Wasteland, and his supplies were thin, my little brother would at least try his best and do everything he could to make sure we made it through the worst of what might happen.

Even Tinker had something to give. She knew the area at least a little bit, and if nothing else she knew how to make some things that helped; alarms, for one thing, to wake us if someone decided we looked like easy victims.

That left me and Vulpe, the two who couldn’t do anything to contribute. The only difference between us was that he was too young to know how to help or to do anything that would make the group safer. I didn’t have that excuse. All I could do was try and fight, fail, and end up causing more trouble when I got hurt. I could use up Felix’s supplies until when someone else needed them they were already gone. And I could make one stupid decision that ended in us all suffering. Saying the wrong thing to the wrong zebra, shooting the wrong ponies.

I wanted to help, to be useful, to have something I could give to the group that wasn’t just another body or gun that couldn’t hit anything unless it was on top of me. But so far I hadn’t been able to do that.

I needed to find something, anything…

Charmer and Tinker were both sitting in front of the shack when we arrived, their faces drawn tight with worry and relief when they saw us trotting toward them. Tinker instantly stood and trotted to Felix’s side, nuzzled him softly in the neck and tried to take his bag. He didn’t argue, and returned the touch with a hint of a smile. My mane prickled slightly at the sight, but I didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to bring up the same argument from earlier again when it had almost been the last things we said to one another.

Charmer flicked her eye between me and the small zebra on my back, her expression tightening at the sight before she stood up and waited for me to get close. I stopped beside her and waited, knowing that she wanted to say something, but not quite sure what.

The pony leaned in close and whispered, thankfully realizing that Vulpe was asleep. “What happened?” she strained and kept her one eye trained on the snoozing foal.

“Caesar’s Stand was attacked,” I hesitantly told her and motioned to Vulpe with my head. “His mother was killed.”

I waited for the pony to ask for more on the attack, but she just leaned away and shook her head before turning back inside, a look of discomfort and unease dwelling on her sharp features. Before she made it inside, I faintly heard her mumble about a ‘daycare’.

The rest of us followed her inside and retreated to separate corners of the room as usual, for some reason still not comfortable with staying together even after how long we’d been with one another. Charmer sat down and stared blankly at the door as the darkness of night started to settle in over the New Oatleans wastes, her face giving me no sense of how she felt. I guessed that she must be a little irritated about us bringing home yet another mouth too young to be in this life, but I didn’t think it would last long. After all, we were all there for the same reason; all we had left was each other.

And it wasn’t like I planned to keep Vulpe around too long, I knew he needed somewhere better to live than in the middle of nowhere with the constant threat of being shot. Somewhere better than with us. But for the time, it was all I could do for him, and I was going to at least try making it bearable for him.

Tinker and Felix sat in the back corner closest to her and curled up together, whispering things back and forth too quiet for me to hear. That itch in my mane returned at the sight, but I bit my tongue and let it go, at least for the moment. I was too exhausted to care much anyways, and just wanted to lie down and try to get some rest.

I took the corner opposite from them and tried to push together some of the dead grass and dirt into as much of a bed as I could muster at the time. It wasn’t pretty, and certainly wasn’t what the colt on my back was used to, but it was better than nothing, at least in my mind. I gently slid him into my hooves and lay him down in the middle of the little mound I had made, trying my best not to wake him.

His eyes slid open slightly when I pulled my hooves out from under his small body, and I quickly leaned in and cooed for him to go back to sleep. It only took one try for Vulpe to close his eyes and drift off again, and I grinned a little at the sight of the sleeping foal. I hoped that he wouldn’t be stuck reliving what he saw through the day, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath for that. Even if he didn’t dream about it that night, at some point it would come back to him, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Before I got a chance to lay down beside him and get some sleep of my own, a hoof jabbed at my side and a harsh voice hissed into my ear. “We need to talk.”

My eyes turned up to see Charmer at my side, her scar tight over the bone underneath and pushing out the disgusting stalk still clinging at the back of her empty eye socket. I took one last look down at Vulpe to make sure he was fast asleep before standing and walking with the mare outside, suddenly reminded of all the times when I shared similar moments with Seer in the dead of night.

We didn’t go too far away, just far enough so that the others wouldn’t hear our discussion that I was sure would be bitter. I didn’t need to guess what it was about from her demeanor, and prepared to defend my decision.

She didn’t start talking right away, but instead glared at me for a few moments while she chewed on her words and got them just the way she wanted it to sound. “Did you at least get the food?” she asked sourly and sat down as if she were too worn out to stand through our discussion.

That surprised me. I had expected a scolding about bringing Vulpe back with us, or at least a complaint, which I suppose she had added in silently with her question about the food. “Yes, we got some before the attack came,” I explained and reminded her about why we had been gone so long. Maybe it would get her to calm down at least a little.

“Good, we’ll need it,” she quickly told me and sighed. “What’s this about an attack?”

“That gunship from Spur, it showed up and shot everyone,” I bluntly told her, not feeling a need or a wish to go into detail. I’d already gone through it once, and probably would again a few times in my own head for the rest of my life, so I didn’t see a point in an extra retelling.

“And the kid, his mama was killed?” she asked like I had been lying before. I just nodded and scowled. Once again, I was surprised not to receive an argument or a stern warning about bringing him with us. Instead, the mare frowned and looked in the direction of Caesar’s Stand, the strain on her scar and face dropping and letting the skin loosen again. “There was nowhere else to leave him?” she asked solemnly.

“No. Almost everyone died, only a few survivors made it out from what I could see,” I explained calmly and realized that she wasn’t actually mad about it.

“You know he needs a real home, right?” She rolled her head back to me. “And we don’t exactly fit that.”

“I know,” I agreed and nodded. “It’s just until we find him somewhere better.”

“That seems to be pretty common for us.” A small smile cracked at the corner of the pony’s mouth for a moment, but it died quickly. “Tomorrow we need to start looking.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard rumors that a place called Gold’s Corral takes in ponies and zebras,” she stated. I’d heard the name once before, I thought it was Merry Scroll who mentioned it, back before we left Shanty, but I couldn’t remember anymore. All I knew was that a pony told us from that town, and I never even considered it. “It’s on the other side of the city, at least a few days away, but it will be hard to get there.”

“Why?” I asked and continued staring at the pony, suddenly worried.

“Well, if we go around the east side of the city, we have to go past Spur, and I doubt that they’ll like you three being near them.” I didn’t doubt that either. “And around the west side we have to pass the Steel Ranger camp. I don’t know where it is, only that it’s between us and the Corral.”

“So either way we have to pass ponies who don’t like zebras?” I clarified and snorted.

“Exactly.”

My head dropped a little and my guts twisted at the thought of where we had to go. Even if it would get us somewhere a little safer, at least according to the rumors that Charmer had heard, we had to go through hostile territory. And that was going around the city, but going through seemed like an even worse idea from what I’d heard. “Is there anyone we can ask for help? A town that wouldn’t shoot us on sight?” I hazarded and prayed.

“Maybe. I haven’t been south of the river for a long time, Shayle. Towns that used to be friendly might not be anymore, and no matter where we go there are always the Steel Rangers.” She sighed and shook her head. “I guess we could try finding some old friends of my Mama’s, but they might have moved on.”

I groaned and sat down beside her, wishing that there was an easier way, or a closer place. “Unless you know of another town away from the city, that sounds like our only choice.” At least the only one I had heard. I couldn’t think of any myself, and of course she knew the area a lot better than I did.

“No, I don’t. We could always ask, but I wouldn’t count on it if I was you,” she commented. “One of Mama’s friends used to live in a town a few days from here, and she’s the closest right now,” she started explaining like there was no other choice. “If me and Tinker stay with you, there shouldn’t be any trouble getting in, but there’s always the chance.” She looked at me with worry and caution. “Just don’t cause any problems.”

“We won’t,” I promised her. “What if she isn’t there?”

“Then we’ll have to try somewhere else,” she offered. “Hopefully one of them is still around and remembers me.”

Yeah, hopefully.

Footnote: No Levels Earned

Author’s Note:
As per my usual, I want to give a huge thank you to Kkat for creating this universe that I’ve come to love so much. It’s gotten me through hard times and sustained me in good, and seems that it will continue to do so for a long time to come. And thank you to Somber for expanding the universe and showing me that it can be made larger and more fantastic with each and every story that comes out. Of course, thank you to Doomande and Rattlesire for the fantastic cover, as well as every artist who has felt this story worthy of art. It all makes me smile and I love you all for it. Thank you too my pre-readers and those who give me edits even after release so this story can be at its best, you’re all awesome. And a very special thank you to the Cloudsville readers who helped me get through this latest chapter when I was at a down time in my life. You’re all the best friends a guy could hope for, and I only wish I could repay the favor.
As a final note, I’m very sorry for how long it has taken to get this chapter out. I was unbelievably busy in June and July, and most of the time I wasn’t in town at all, so I’m sorry for the wait. I’ll try my best to get the next chapter out sooner, but I apologize ahead of time if I don’t. And thank you all for reading, you make my day!