Gi the gryphon, Lance the dragon, Bow the diamond dog, and Flip the unicorn. These are the four that donned their iconic red caps with feathered plumes and took upon themselves the name of the Crimson Cavaliers.

I just got finished reading that storybook to Hyacinth as she went to sleep tonight: The Crimson Cavaliers and the Sunflower Sacrament. This is the fourth time I have read the book now, each time for her, but it seems that she has truly fallen in love with the characters within. I myself find them to be lacking in some much-needed depth and pretty much like every beginner's group in Chimeras and Caverns I have ever played with. This is understandable, because the story is very simplistic and happens to be for beginning readers (evidenced by the short sentences, the abbreviated violence where it must be entered, and the silly language used to amuse Hyacinth). I am glad that she enjoys the story, however, and has something now that makes her smile as I see her toting her Gi stuffed toy around with her everywhere.

It has really helped her to cope with what happened recently. I worried that she might have been scarred by a recent occurrence that took all of Songring by surprise.

Before delving right into the terrors of settlement life, I will start with how the summer began. Another wave of immigrants arrived on our doorstep and started looking for their places to set up. It was a small group, but one amongst them would have made my heart jump with joy had I seen her wander over the hills on the horizon: The group following along behind this majestic creature as she strolled carelessly with the wind blowing gently through her saffron-colored mane and sea-green coat, her wings flexed lazily, and her horn glinting in the bright summer sun.

An alicorn.

"You're never going to guess it, Mr. Prodder! You're never going to guess it!" Dawnstar insisted to me as I tried to concentrate on my stockpile records to see what needed to be separated out of the items the ponies had bought from the caravan. She was once again draped over my desk, rapping her hooves excitedly to try and keep my attention. "Well, come on! Guess!"

"You just said I would never guess it, Dawnstar."

"Don't ruin the fun, Mr. Prodder! Guess!"

"Is it good or bad?"

"Okay, but this is your only hint: It's really good!"

"Willow's gone mute?"

"Nope."

"I'm fired?"

"Nuh uh."

"Regicide?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Just tell me already."

It looked like she was going to burst from excitement as she bounded away from my desk and bucked about happily. "An alicorn, Mr. Prodder! Word of our success must have reached some ear up on high, and we have an alicorn visiting us today!"

I leapt from my desk and danced with her. I was happier than I had been in years at that instant. An alicorn? That could only mean one thing to me.

My relief had finally arrived.

Yes, I would finally be able to pass the baton of running Songring off to its next ruler or coordinator or whatever. Finally, I could get out of this place. Finally, I could get back to Ponyville and keep my promise. Dawnstar giddily showed me the way to the dining hall where the group had already set up and were conversing with the settlers while they awaited their interview with Dawnstar. There seemed to be five that I did not recognize among the throng gathered in the eatery, but as I scanned about, I could not locate the alicorn amongst the rabble. As I had parted my lips to ask Dawnstar where she was, I heard a voice call me over from the corner of the room where some tables had been arranged around a small stockpile of bottles and kegs to form a bar. Gazing back at me was the sea green-colored alicorn who motioned me over with a bare hoof as she leaned across the tables, wearing a mirthful smile.

"You're here! You're finally here!" I called back, trudging through a few of the ponies who had gathered to gawk at the demigoddess of their culture so that I could reach her. "You can't possibly imagine how glad I am to see you," I told her, taking deep breaths to barely contain my excitement.

Chuckling at me, the creature motioned for me to take a seat at the makeshift bar and levitated a stone mug from the stocks behind her to place on the table for me. "Well, Sweets, I'm surprised you knew I was coming. Maybe my reputation precedes me a bit more than I take credit for. I was more curious to finally get to meet the mysterious coordinator of Songring I’ve heard some whispers about."

I refused the mug at first, just happy to hear her deep, sultry voice pierce the chatters and chortles behind me. "To be honest, I'm afraid I don't know who you are, just why you're here. It's been four years now: about time for you to have shown up."

This seemed to confuse her, but she smiled all the same and insisted that I have some spirits that she brought forth with her horn to calm me down. "I know that I can be of help, but no reason to get so worked up, Sugar. Try some of this and let me know if maybe you start feeling a little better."

Once again I pressed the mug away and stood up, motioning for her to come with me. "Really, I'm fine. Don't you wish to get started? I'd love to show you your new office and your quarters. I can give you our reports and our stockpile records, and show you everything you need to know about how Songring is doing."

"Uhm, Hun, that sounds great and all, but I need to stick around until we've got less thirsty ponies around here. It's not right for me to walk out on 'em when it's my calling to be there, right?"

"They'll be fine. They'll come to the office if they need you! This job pretty much does itself! (Or Dawnstar does it at least.)..."

"Hey!" my assistant protested shortly.

"...Just let me show you around, and then you can come back for the meet and greet with your new subordinates later."

Everyone got quiet at that moment, except for Willow who was already laughing about something: Probably at me, but I had no idea why. As all eyes fell on me, I bit my lip and looked up at the alicorn who eased an uncomfortable chuckle from her throat.

"Mr. Prodder," Dawnstar began uneasily, one brow risen as she was visibly questioning my sanity, "are you really considering handing over the keys of Songring to a bartender?"

Have you ever had one of those moments in life where you feel like for once everything is going your way, and then you realize you're standing in a tar pit, slowly sinking back into the dreary reality that your life comparatively sucks to everyone else’s? I can relate.

The demigoddess on the horizon is a bartender. A bartender. Think about that for just a moment. A demigoddess that peddles liquor to individuals in hopes that they could simply forget about their problems for a little while and succumb to intoxication and the pretty colors she offers. Damn if there is not some deep symbolism there that I am too distraught to figure out right now.

Having my momentary light of hope snuffed out like a candle in a cave-in, I have spent quite a few days simply trying to raise my spirits back up. There is an agreement amongst the settlers that I have recently become fond of my "desk naps", which is actually when I beat my head against my desk until I tire out, or until I just feel like it's not worth bothering anymore and lay there until something requires my immediate attention.

One of the newer ponies by the name of Tye Dye (a clothing dyer of some sort I suppose, or a complete tree-hugger otherwise) happened to bring to me an object she felt like was worthy of being on display next to the nickel-silver bust of myself and the Seven Settlers of Songring. I cannot even recall what she called it anymore: Something about the Vicinnary of Pulleys I think. It was what she called her crowning achievement of artwork, placing it on my desk for my perusal and awaiting my astonished gasps and awe at her work.

"... A wooden ring?" I asked her, picking up the object and turning it in my hand a few times.

"Well... if you're just going to look at the basics, yes, it's a wooden ring. It's so much more though! It means so much more! Can't you just feel it?"

"Tye Dye, why did you make a wooden ring?"

"Inspiration needs no reason, Mr. Prodder. To define that would only detract from the magic of a whim's calling."

"You don't even have fingers. Who is going to wear this?"

"Well... you could wear it..."

"It's got spikes! Made of bone! No way am I putting this on my finger, Tye Dye," I quickly refused, letting the cheap trinket drop to my desk with a hollow thud.

"That is to represent the thorns of the rose that is our success! For every good there is a bad, and for every gain there is a loss,” Tye Dye expounded, ears folding back in concern at my blunt distaste of her work.

"Just how high are you right now?"

"Come on, Mr. Prodder... what makes you say that? Why would you even suggest that I might be consuming ratsweed?”

"Come here so I can see your eyes."

"... No?"

"Yeah, you're high. Take your stupid ring and get out of here; I'm not in the mood to debate artistic license with a junkie."

Dawnstar has already reprimanded me for making Tye Dye cry, but honestly! It's a wood and bone ring! The materials are not valuable, there are no impressive engravings or markings on it, the item is useless because not only can they not wear a ring due to having no fingers, even one with fingers would have to be a masochist to even consider putting something so flawed in countless fundamental ways in design on their hand! What am I supposed to do with that? Put it up on my shelf with the silver-alloy image that a true artisan crafted for us just to preserve some addled drug-user's warped, inebriated feelings? I think not. I told Dawnstar that if she feels it is so deep and thought provoking, that she can pitch it to Bullion at his next visit and see if he finds her pleas anymore influencing.

My desk naps were the start of one interesting scenario this season. Overcast had entered my office one day and I simply told him to go away because I did not have it in me to listen to a single sad thing right now or else I might lose it on somebody. The recovery from having my spirits raised so high and then dashed into millions of pieces moments later has taken quite a while, which I am somewhat ashamed to admit. (I should be stronger than that.) After he left, I completely forgot about his needing my attention. Days later, Dawnstar let me know that we were receiving a very interesting visitor.

"Another alicorn bartender? Or let me guess, maybe this one is a chef so we can complete our set,” I quipped dryly at my desktop, refusing to lift my head.

"Oh, get over it, Mr. Prodder. There is a zebra caravan on its way, and I want you to be properly dressed and ready to meet with them when they arrive."

I heeded her request and cleaned myself up as best I could for the new arrival. Dawnstar was thrilled to get to meet with someone as culturally distinct as the zebras, but all I could think is that if they were going to rhyme at me this time around, I might find myself tearing down the depot and telling them to go home. There was a short meet and greet with the zebras as they began to scale down the northern mountain, above where we had built. They did not bring any wagons with them, I noticed, merely what they could carry on their backs because of the steep incline. I saw a few with peculiar horns and others with wings, which certainly caught my attention as it appeared that there were three races of Zebra as well. We have not yet begun trading with the zebra merchants, but I learned that they are from the north, past the upper ridge of the Fatal Horns, which happens to be mostly desert and rocky wasteland. There has been a little talk of what we might wish from one another. They have not brought much with them to trade due to a lack of understanding of what we might wish to trade for, or what we possibly had to offer. Tye Dye tried to pawn her ring off of them too.

Even the zebras think it's stupid.

After I had approved for them to take a rest in the infirmary (as we still do not have any medical personnel, so it is just a spare room with some beds) after their long trip, I noticed a peculiar pony slip out of their group wearing a long coat, or robe, of cheap plant-cloth that covered most of his body. Looking at him more closely as he scuttled away, I noticed a flash of golden eyes and a charcoal colored pelt, as well as some white hair from his mane poking out from beneath the hood. It was Overcast that had shifted away. I turned my back again to escort the zebras to their temporary quarters before remembering that Overcast had wanted my attention, so I went to track him down once more to see if perhaps he was just not feeling well. That is the only conclusion I could come to as to why he would be so shrouded.

I located the garbed pony outside of the stone door to the abandoned glass-making studio, speaking quietly with Hyacinth as she bounced happily in front of him and looked down at her Gi the Gryphon toy occasionally. As I approached, I kept my arms folded and just listened as they continued their conversation.

"… You really know him? He's here in Equestria?" Hyacinth asked with sparkles in her eyes as the cloaked pony nodded.

"Yes," he responded in a raspy tone that made my spine twinge with displeasure when I considered just how bad Overcast must be feeling to have such a terribly hoarse tone. "He is old you see, but makes time for travel. Gi is actually on his way to visit Canterlot and speak with his old friend, Flip. Our wagon broke down and he sent me to go find somepony to help us."

"Oh no!" Hyacinth gasped, placing the doll on her back and straightening herself as she looked back up to him. "I know somepony who can help though! Mr. Ben is really smart, so he’ll know what to do! I'll go get him right now, and then we can go help you!"

"No, let’s not make a big fuss. You seem like a capable young filly; do you think you could come with me and help me look at the wagon? These old hooves are just too shaky to be of use anymore... but your fresh, young legs should do well for putting the wheel back on for us. Gi would be ever so grateful for your help... he might even sign an autograph for you."

"Okay!” Hyacinth bounced, moving forward towards Overcast excitedly as she was ready to embark on this little misadventure to help her favorite storybook hero.

"Overcast," I called abruptly, making the two of them jump in surprise as they caught sight of me standing with my arms folded and brows low, "I'm sorry for ignoring you before. I just remembered that you were looking for me. From your voice and your blanket there you must be feeling ill. If you wish to go back to your room; I will have Bunsen get to making you a remedy."

The creature fumbled with his words at the sight of me, looking down at the filly cuddled against his front leg who was laughing as I called him by name. "This isn't Overcast, Mr. Ben. Overcast is in the apartments, silly, carving the walls like you told him to."

"Oh?" I asked, giving a scrutinizing glance to the pony that I no longer recognized. "I don't believe we've met. You don't seem to match any of the descriptions of the most recent immigrant wave. Can you tell me your name?"

"Mr. Ben!" Hyacinth spouted back quickly, stamping her hoof against the ground to try to get my attention. "He's just trying to get some help for poor old Mr. Gi! The longer we wait, the less time he'll get to spend with Flip back in Canterlot! I need to go help fix their wagon right now!"

My lips pulled tight then as I looked at the creature with a glower. "Wagon troubles, hm? I think maybe I should come take a look at this wagon. Machina is a fabulous mechanic, so I am sure she could have it running better than ever before. How about we bring Maple and Willow too just in case the chassis could use some work?"

"I wouldn't want to waste your time... Mr. Ben," he struggled to respond, shifting uncomfortably under my distrusting eye. "The filly here is not doing anything important, she will be more than enough help as it is just a simple slip. I can tell her how to put it back on. It is no trouble at all."

"Her father isn't doing anything important. Ever. How about I send him instead?" I asked, my steely glare still making the creature shy away from me nervously.

"Please can I go, Mr. Ben? I really wanna meet Gi before he leaves Equestria to go back home!"

"Don't deny the foal her dreams, Mr. Ben..." the creature agreed, forcing a disarming grin at me... to which I saw something that made my heart jump: The sight of elongated and needle-pointed teeth that cleanly interlocked with one another all the way across his gruesome smile.

"... Hyacinth, get away from him. Who are you and where did you come from? You need to get interviewed or you need to leave."

The monster became befuddled, looking down at Hyacinth once again as she began to shift away hesitantly at my command. His breaths started to draw in quickly, glancing around for something, before I saw his whole body jump as I shouted at him. "Answer me!"

He jumped for Hyacinth.

As her startled scream pierced the sky, it was followed by a pained yowl from the creature as my boot swung forward to catch him between the ribs on the underside of his abdomen, winding him. I snatched the filly up in my arms deftly, backpedaling away from the pony as he coughed and reached beneath the cloak lying against his neck. He drew free a savage-looking dagger in his mouth, growling at me like a feral beast. Each time my feet shifted to go behind me, one of his hooves made an advance in my direction. His golden eyes were locked on Hyacinth, and the terrible sight of blood and caked mud was now plainly visible on the underside of his cloak as he stood before me with desperation in his features.

"Piper!"

A voice rang out from the dining hall, as someone responded to the filly's shriek, acting as the opening gunshot to start our short marathon. As soon as the word echoed past us, both the piper and I took off like a bolt down the mountainside and toward the river: The only place I could think to go with him right at my heels.

"Give her to me!" I heard him roar over the sound of my feet and his hooves beating against the ground furiously. I must get away, I thought. I must keep moving. My thoughts were completely absorbed with only the concept that I must move faster to keep the young one in my arms and away from him. A moment of relief came to me when I saw Salmon on the bridge, his fishing rod dropping into the water as he turned and saw my pursuer. Without a word, I sprinted past him, only slowing to a stop when I heard the sound of hoofbeats replaced with a heavy crash far behind me.

Salmon had thrown himself down onto the bridge, catching the piper’s hooves to send him into a tumble towards the grass at its edge. The dagger was spat out onto the ground, but was immediately retrieved when the creature picked himself up with an agitated snarl. The dagger nearly left his mouth again when he yelped at the sensation of his tail being harshly yanked.

Salmon had grabbed the tail in his teeth, and whirled his body around after planting his stance to toss the piper back onto the bridge. The old pegasus stood between the would-be abductor and myself (still holding the terrified filly), raising his front legs and flapping his wings to stand upright. Watching him running his front legs under his nose and nimbly shifting his weight from haunch to haunch in preparation, Salmon reminded me more and more of a boxer with each bounce and feinting jab into the air before him. “Thought you’d just ignore me, eh? Not likely, worthless bugger!”

In a rage, the piper expertly shifted his grasp on the dagger with a long, slithering tongue so that the blade gleamed at the side of his mouth. “If you don’t move, I’ll just cut my way through you! Out of the way, old nag!” the piper threatened through his tightly clenched teeth. His close-together eyes watched each of Salmon’s shifts cautiously with an unhidden twinge of fear, looking for a moment to strike. Only once did he break his gaze to give a panicky glance behind him. A mass of ponies were exiting the dining hall and gathering, led by a particular husky, burgundy mare, at the sound of the commotion. With the safety at his back waning quickly, he leapt forward in a desperate, diving lash for the pegasus.

The strike came towards his left. Salmon’s left leg slid back in a semicircle to grind a loud skid, his whole body sliding in time to fluidly remain out of reach of the perilously close dagger. When the piper’s leap came to a grinding halt, Salmon faced the creature’s side and lifted his leg to deliver a staggering kick. As the distance between them grew once more while the pony struggled to remain standing after the strike, Salmon planted his right hoof on the ground in front of him and turned his body so that only his right side faced the monster. “First time ever using that thing, boyo, or are you just stupid?” Through his jeer, the peach pegasus thrust threatening jabs with his right hoof into the air close to his foe, shuffling forward to keep increasing the pressure and drive his adversary back further onto the bridge. Two or more of the quick motions made contact during the display, one eliciting a snarl and another ringing out a clash as his hardened hoof lightly kissed unclean iron. “I’ve snogged barmares that had more spunk than you!”

Please just hold on, I thought, doing my best to stifle any quivers of fear I had to remain strong in the sight of the foal still cradled in my grasp, I silently pleaded for a little more time. The uncleared jungle thicket on the southern side of the river loomed dangerously behind me, hinting with rustles that there might be just as much to fear there as what currently hunkered defensively on the bridge before the pegasus. The far-off glint of steel on the horizon flashed in my sight as the heavy-set unicorn came to our defense. Just a couple minutes more.

The piper's rump soon pushed back to touch the low safety railing we had erected on the bridge, left with nowhere to back away to as Salmon's deft strikes continued to nip at him. With a turn of his head, the knife was displayed point-first to deter the pestering blows, the golden eyes scanning his upstanding tormenter for any point of weakness. Salmon left no vital areas exposed, continuing to aggressively hound with low kicks, assertively keeping his rival pinned against the railing. Suddenly the creature turned his head again to expose the pommel of his knife, letting the pegasus take a cheap shot at the side of his face that bashed harshly against his temple. Before Salmon could pull his hoof back to defend himself, however, the piper rose up high and swung the blade in an arc attempting to slash at the peach-colored face.

"Too slow to hit an old-!" The cheeky taunt was interrupted with a pained expulsion as Salmon let his weight fall back on his left leg, bowing his body back to narrowly avoid the swish of the iron only to feel a huge blow slam into his stomach. The piper had feinted, stopping the swing of his blade halfway through to switch to a low bull-rush with his shoulder, making a weighty impact in Salmon's gut. His body bent as far back as his balance would allow, wings fluttering desperately to give him a few more moments before landing with his back on the wooden planking. It gave him just long enough to curl his legs, catching the piper's shoulders between his haunches and carrying him down in a falling twist onto the bridge where they both lay.

As the pegasus struggled to regain his breath, my pursuer wrenched himself from the loose leg-grapple, letting his piercing, slitted sights fall on us once again. Salmon lolled his head our way too, giving me just a brief moment to see his heated gaze. A small leg curled tightly around my back, and Hyacinth buried one of her pink eyes in my shirt as she whimpered at the imposing sight of the charcoal stallion once again rising to his hooves and glaring down upon her. "Hold onto me, Hyacinth," I whispered when I reached aimlessly with my free hand to the ground for something, for anything, that I could wield. A partially decayed stick was all I could grasp, but I resolved that it would have to do as the foal curled her other leg over my chest to cling obediently.

His hooves made it to the grass beyond the bridge's planking. The intruder glanced feverishly between my hand brandishing the useless limb and his prey that was too terrified to look away from the nightmare before her. Keeping the stick lifted high above my head in preparation for an overhead swing did nothing to dissuade his determined approach with the knife cautiously exchanging sides in his mouth while he contemplated his next maneuver. Lucky for me, his obligations to finish the brawl had not been resolved as his eyes widened in shock and pain at the sensation of his tail being yanked once again.

Having scrambled back onto his hooves, the retired sailor rushed once again to clench his flat teeth on the fibers of the piper's tail. This time he refused to let go, flapping his wings with all his might and tugging with fervent heaves as his hooves dug into the planking to either drag the brute away from us or rip his tail out trying.

"Why won't you just quit!?" bellowed the piper through his gritted teeth, swinging his head back in an attempt to turn. His whirl was impeded when his cheek met squarely with an extended hoof that held his wielded dagger away while another yank on his tail kept him from turning his body.

A mighty roar through his nose sounded as Salmon drew back his other hoof to throw a haymaker swing into the piper's back, aimed right for the kidney. "You'll damn well have to kill me first!" we heard him spit back as he refused to loosen the grip of his jaw. Again and again, every few seconds the piper gained the will to ignore the pain of his tail being nearly torn from his body so he could whirl around, but he was met with Salmon's denying hoof to the side of his face and another punishing bash into his spine or kidneys. That was until he slammed his entire body back instead, after he had endured enough of the beating, throwing his whole weight into Salmon and hooking his back legs behind the pegasus' hooves to send them both to the ground once again.

A scream escaped her at the sight of the ongoing struggle, the shattering noise startling me, as Hyacinth pressed her lips into the soft fabric of her Gi doll caught between her chest and mine. "Make them stop, Mr. Ben!" she sputtered out to me, heaves escaping her as she screwed her eyes shut and an agonized yowl filled the air around us over the small sound of cracking bone.

Grunts of strain continued between both of the combatants, the dark stallion taking dominance in the grappled pin they found themselves in. The lighter of the two wildly bashed with his right hoof, planting strike after thudding strike, into his attacker's neck and face while his other hoof wrestled around the pommel of the knife just barely sticking out of the interlocking teeth. When the piper flailed his head about to try and shake loose the unwanted grip on his weapon, Salmon timed a mighty swing and made a lucky connection, shoving his hoof far into the beast's nose and injuring it with a brutal crunch.

The piper recoiled, giving a pained yell, and lifted up long enough to slam his hooves back down crushing one of the pegasus' striking legs beneath it in a pin. The pain in his nose forcing his eyes to tightly close, the creature blindly stabbed with the vicious dagger to end the melee. It sunk deep into Salmon's flesh: The strength in his free leg fading as it fell limp, refusing to respond.

I felt my feet shuffle back, the instinct to flee nearly overwhelming me, as the victorious pony stood up and shook his head about, issuing swears and snarls. Water leaked heavily from his eyes, forcing them nearly shut as he battled with the excruciating pain from his injured nose. I feared It was only a matter of seconds before he would fight through his discomfort, reset his sights on us, and simply take his target from me. As the pony drew back to reach for the knife embedded deep in the barely-moving sailor, I could not pull my own eyes away from the sight of the fallen stallion.

"Head's up!"

At the sound of the dusky voice, all eyes turned to the thicket just off the shore of the Charmedsmile, including the blurry eyes of the piper. That was his mistake. As his head lifted up to view the owner of the voice and prepare himself for another contender, he must have barely seen through his tear-filled vision a whirling copper blade attached to a wooden shaft come hurling from the woods. Before he could react or put his head back down, it had cleaved into his neck with a satisfying thunk.

Murky red fluid began to pour down the stallion's chest, panic overwhelming his quickly paling features as he struggled to draw in a breath to scream or respond. His hooves clawed at his own neck to find that the axebit remained firmly lodged halfway through his throat. With a last longing glance at the both of us, petrified by fear in the sparse clearing, and a disbelieving look in the direction from which the blade had flown in; he eventually collapsed to all four knees, and finally to a crumpled heap on the ground with one hoof wrapped desperately around the shaft of the fatal weapon.

"Only a dumbass looks," I heard her voice chime in again. Maple trotted from the tree line towards us, immediately glancing over Hyacinth and me. "Ben. Ben! Are you okay? Talk to me, Ben. Did he hurt you or the little one?"

"No," I finally stuttered, pulling Hyacinth's head to my chest to hide her eyes from the morbid scene on the bridge, "He didn't hurt either of us. We're okay.” I shook my head, dread flooding back into me, as I looked back to the bridge. “Salmon’s hurt! Take Hyacinth back to the camp, I need to check on him!” Hyacinth gave a wracking sob when I tried to hurriedly put her down, calling out my name in a way that begged me to not let go of her, but Maple's soothing voice calmed her enough that she could take the foal from me.

The pegasus was able to stand on her hind legs with the help of flapping her wings, and holding the filly in her front legs, picked up her Gi doll to give Hyacinth something to cling to while she was carried back to the settlement. "I'll take care of her, Ben. I've got this. Make sure the old colt's alright."

I nearly lost my balance when I came to a skidding stop at the sailor's side on my knees, ignoring the burn on my skin as I began to examine the pony. I looked for anything hopeful: Anything that might suggest that there was some gleaming chance that he might still be there. The dull, wooden grip of the blade drew my eyes first so that I could witness the wound. It was at the neck. Blood seeped past the iron blade and stained his light pelt, dripping down with tiny plops into the slowly gathering pool on the wood of the bridge. Salmon's eyes were closed as well. I found that I could not pull my sight away from the injury, unable to move my hands or any other part of me.

I didn't know what to do...

Until a loud seething sound erupted from between Salmon's gritted teeth and he curled his hooves at his sides to endure. I could breathe once again, seeing him breathe and open his eyes to glance over my face with his hazy hues. A grimacing smile came over him then, as I put my hand on his hoof to hold it down for the moment. The smile quickly disappeared as he craned his head about in a frantic search. "Captain, where's the lass? What happened?"

"It's alright, Salmon. She's safe," I assured him, furrowing my brow as I drew in a deep breath to finally assess the wound with what little knowledge that I had.

Salmon tried to crane his view to his own neck, but recoiled with a sharp intake of breath as he must have twinged something and pained himself. "Celestia's Ass Fur, that smarts lad! Little pisshead got me good, didn't he?" Another swear or two left Salmon's lips as he screwed his eyes shut again and laid his head back to cope with the discomfort. Struggling to chuckle through it, he informed me: “Not my first knife-fight lad; it's just that last time, I was the one with the knife.”

"How bad do you think it is, Salmon? You seem to be breathing and circulating." I brought my hand close to try and apply pressure around the point of entry, hoping to minimize the trickle of blood.

"Shit, Captain, I don't know! Pull the damn thing out and we can see how bad it is!" Salmon irritably barked back, catching his breath as the pain seemed to numb under my squeezing hand.

I refused him that, telling him that I wouldn't risk removing it until we had more supplies on hand. Daggersides was the first on the scene, sprinting up to drop onto her front knees as well and view the wound. "Holy- Little pisshead got you good, huh old guy?" Salmon tried to stifle his chuckle at her coincidental words, and I instructed her to get us some antiseptic and clean cloth as fast as she could. "I'd tell you to leave it in 'til we can get a doc on this, Prodder, but we don't have that kind of luxury. We’re not doing that here though, let’s get him back to the infirmary so we can decide what to do.”

I have to say that I'm thankful that the zebras were here when this happened. Their group was still residing in the infirmary when we barged in and urged all of them to clear the way for our wounded comrade. Syn Soothes-Pain is the name of one of the stallions amongst them that, peculiarly, had two horns growing from far down on the bridge of his nose. They called him a "Medicine-Colt," and he immediately took Salmon from our care before we could even so much as explain what had happened on the bridge. I can rest easy knowing that Salmon is in good hands right now, as they were quick to administer poultices and apply practiced bandaging to the wound before preparing to remove it carefully; however, something strange did happen when the blade was finally drawn out. One of the merchants among them backed away from the sight of it in irrational fear. When I approached her with concern to ask what was wrong, she only said, "Deicidian," before recovering her demeanor and wishing to drop the subject. When I would not let the topic go however, she only curtly informed me, “You’re calling them here with your questions.”

I’ve been informed that the wound is mostly superficial: It had missed any notable arteries, as the blade (while looking rather savage), was quite thin at its point of entry, and only roughly 1/3 of it was embedded into his shoulder since the piper had lacked the precision or strength to penetrate a bone it had collided with. Salmon is expected to make a full recovery by the end of next season.

The body of the "piper", as he was called, has been placed in the tomb that was made for Flinch. I have requested that he be placed there for examination later, as I wanted to confirm what I saw when he grinned at me: Something that may very well explain the absurdity of this whole scenario.

That is why I was with Hyacinth tonight. I wanted to make sure she was alright after all of that commotion, as I don't wish for this event to become a permanent scar for her. That's only part of the truth though. I just wanted to hear her voice. I wanted to hear the reassuring sound of her giggle when I spoke those silly words that Bow would say when bumping her head, as I read the storybook she’s come to love so much. I wanted to push away the haunting thought that she was only moments away from walking away with that piper to a fate that I don't wish to fathom at this time.

Songring doesn't feel very safe to me right now.

Author's Notes:

On a personal note, I had originally wanted to refer to the Pipers as "Snatchers" considering their practice of abducting young ones from the forests, but I was informed that this might cause some confusion with the Snatchers from the Harry Potter series. In the end, I settled to call them Pipers to distance the two apart a bit more. Not to mention, it just seemed to sound more fitting with how deceit was being used instead of stealth or force.