Opening the manila envelope, you consider the contents once more as the bustling of ponies roars around you. The last thing you want is to botch an operation this big. Inside is a picture of your bounty, her last letter to Celestia, and two tickets. One is for a train to Stableside and the other a boat to, what you hope you’re reading correctly, the Amazon Rein Forest. These puns are beginning to get annoying.

Looking up from the folder, you glance over your shoulder for your partner before remembering something: she isn't coming along for this one.

"Freakin' estrus," you mutter. Had it not been for pony instinct, you wouldn't be going alone, but the last thing you need to do is drag Pinkie along in the state she’s enduring. Jungle fever is a funny concept, but you’re not looking for a personal experience.

"All aboard!" Shaking your head, you run up to the conductor, ticket in hand. He examines it before nodding and letting you inside. They should have a room reserved just for you with the amount of traveling you do. The usual servers and staff wave as you pass through the corridors. You make your way towards the room written on the ticket. It's strange: most of the time, you head in the opposite direction to get to your cabin.

As you venture forth, the cars themselves transform from mundane to regal. Red shag carpets and purple wallpaper with gold trimming line the floor and walls. You look at your cabin door's number.

"Forty-two," you read aloud before sliding the door open. This is a cabin fit for Christ: An ice box in one corner, a large, luxurious bed in the other, and a book shelf packed with plenty to read; it's like the bedroom you never had. Closing the door, you throw your luggage under the bed and open the ice box. It's filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, along with bottles of juice and water. Closing the hatch, you move to the bookshelf and skim several titles before one catches your eye.

Daring Do and the Mystery of the Colossal Titan. Might as well research a bit before you jump into a bounty blind again. Grabbing the book, you toss it on the bed before reexamining the manila envelope. The letter to Celestia is the last clue that Daring Do left behind. You study the chicken scratch that barely resembles writing.

Dear Princess Celestia:

I send this letter as my status report for this week; I hope it reaches you safely. After years of searching, I’ve finally found the temple that might contain the final piece of the puzzle I've so endeavored to solve. It seems it was under our muzzles the whole time! I need few more days to complete the excavation and unearth the secret to the ancient race that lived across these lands. I hope you will understand.

D.D.

You fold up the paper and look over the parchment. It seems neat and clean for a consummate traveler. Putting the paper back inside the envelope, you lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Without Pinkie, this feels too... serious. She's always there to enliven, but without her it's plain boring. You crack the book. The smell of fresh paper enters your nose as you read. For a few hours, you do nothing but read through the book, but the entire time, you look around waiting for something, or someone, to interrupt you.

You mark your page and roll over. You didn't expect to miss Pinkie this much. Now that you had peace, you kind of wish you didn't. Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes and nod off.

A sudden squealing causes your eyes to shoot open, followed by an abrupt stop of the train that sends you flying from the bed and onto the floor. Rubbing your head, you stand and look out the window. Silhouettes fly by in the moonlight, much too large to be pegasi. Shrill screeches echo throughout the car as a cacophony of crashing glass erupts down the hall. Your door slides open as you head towards it. You reach for your staff instinctively.

A large griffon charges forward, talons ready to shred. With a high pitched squawk it lunges at you. You jab forward and strike it between the eyes, stunning it for a moment. It thuds face first on the ground, dazed. Securing it with your foot, you look at the door and back to the bird... cat... thing.

“You know, it’s rude to come in without knocking,” you mock, releasing the safety on your slingshot. It struggles to grab you with its claws. “Now what are you doing breaking into my cabin at this hour?”

“Please mister!” it pleads, looking as if it’s about burst into tears. “I’m only searching for food. My brothers and sister must steal to live. Please let me go! I’ll leave and never do it again, honest.” Leaning down, you give it a glare and point your finger.

“I had a cat once. Your tricks won’t work on me.” The griffon rolls its eyes and emits an annoyed sigh as you load a pellet onto the sling’s pouch. “Now, I have here a pellet loaded with poison joke. This shit is excessively potent. I’m going to let you go and you’re going to leave. If I see you try anything funny, I won’t hesitate to shoot your ass.”

The griffin shrieks before you release your foot. For a moment the room falls silent: not even the sound of breathing is heard over the deafening silence. Your heart races as tapping and scurrying enters your astute ears. Pointing your slingshot at the griffon, you ready yourself for anything.

What you don’t expect are four pairs of eyes gleaming in the window. Dropping your arm down further, you press your knuckles on the creature’s head, sling pulled to the point of snapping. This thing isn’t alone.

“I suggest you don’t do anything stupid,” you taunt, ready to let go at any time. “One wrong move your buddy will have a heavy dose of poison joke inside his skull.” The eyes shift to one another, looks of suspicion in them.

“What’s poison joke?” one of them asks the other.

“Dunno. Maybe the guy is bluffing.”

“We can’t chance that. Last thing we need is another griffon down. Boss says no casualties, remember?”

“Let’s just get the boss to negotiate, shall we?”

The eyes disappear but your nerves don’t loosen. Digging your knuckles in a bit, you decide that the best move is to get some info from this thing.

“Who were they?” you grunt.

“Or what? You’re already pushing your luck with this hostage situation,” the griffon scowls.

“Because right now, I’m the one with the gun—er, slingshot to your head. You don’t have much of a choice.” The griffon growls.

“Those were the others in my pack. They’re probably getting ahold of our boss right now since they aren’t bright enough to do anything without him.” A large banging sound makes its way down the hall outside your cabin. What’s traveling towards you isn’t small. Your breathing intensifies as your nerves begin to shake. Sure, you’ve fought things that years before you’d never think you’d face, but that didn’t mean you weren’t scared. Sounds of hushed discussion follow the footsteps as you ready to fire.

“This one?” a high pitched voice asks. It’s almost as if a female is speaking. A white figure pokes its head in the doorway, shocking you. A lizard of some sort; perhaps a dragon?

“Excuse me,” it interjects, pointing a sharp talon up. “Might I speak with you for a moment?” You can’t help but stare at the creature. Its scales are a snow white with trace shades of pink. It makes its way into the room. You press your fist against the griffon’s head further, your knuckles now digging into its skull.

“That depends, lady.” It gives you a glowering glare before throwing its arms into the air.

“I am not a female!” it screams, stomping against the floor in a tantrum. “I’m a guy! A guy!” You can’t help but giggle at his expense; even the griffon chortles. The laughter echoes in the hallway as the dragon grow angrier.

“Okay, enough small talk! Either you let the griffon go or we take one of your pony friends here and commit unspeakable horrors to her!” He grabs a mare from behind him, placing a talon to her throat.

“Boss, let’s not blow this out of proportion,” you hear whispered in the hallway. Giving him a deadpan stare, you rub your fist against the griffon’s head again.

“Like what? You gonna give her a makeover?” you mock, still holding your ground. “And what do I care what you do to her? It’s not like I know her.” The mare’s eyes widen as the dragon’s eyes flare and his claw shakes with rage. A bit of smoke escapes his snout as he lifts the mare higher.

“You wouldn’t want to live with a pony’s blood on your conscious, would you?” Of course you wouldn’t, but he doesn’t know that.

“I don’t care,” you say with a shrug. “I’m more concerned about my sleep, which you interrupted. Besides,” you aim the slingshot at him, “you don’t have what it takes to kill another creature.”

His eyes shake as the slingshot gears his way. You feel your testicles retract, fearing for this mare’s life. His scaly face swallows hard. You begin to sweat, trying your hardest to steady your hands. He puts the mare down and bows his head.

“You’re right.” Your balls drop back in place. “I can’t hurt another being.” You sigh. The dragon unties the mare and moves to let her pass. She scurries in a panic, bumping into the wall and tripping as she flees. The dragon plops on the ground, tears swelling in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, covering his face. “All I was trying to do was get some food for my friends.” A few more griffons poke their heads in the doorway, looking around the room tentatively. They turn their gaze to the dragon, showing sympathy for the crying beast.

“Come on, boss. There’s no need to cry,” one of them mumbles, patting him on the back. With a swift swing, the dragon swats the creature’s claw away like an annoyed child.

“I told you guys to stop calling me boss! My name is Fizzle!” You hold back a snort and lower your arm. It would normally be a stupid move to do so, but this guy is so wimpy, it seems like he wouldn’t be able to do much if he did decide to jump at you. The griffon under your foot squawks again, reminding you he’s still there. You let your foot up and release him from your custody.

“No hard feelings?” you ask with a shrug. He gives you a grimacing glare as he wipes the dirt of his coat before walking back to his leader. Reaching into your pocket, you grab twenty bits and hand it to the dragon. He looks up at the coins in your hand with teary eyes before returning his glance to you.

“What’s this?”

“Money,” you sarcastically reply. Throwing the coins to his feet, you take a seat back on your bed and grab your book. “Use it to get some food for yourselves.” The griffon who was under your foot steps forward, a scowl across his face.

“We don’t need your pity, you ug—”

“Kelly! Take your blessings with a grain of salt.” Fizzle yells, glaring daggers at the creature. You begin coughing, an attempt to hold back laughter. Sure, Kelly can be a guy’s name too. The griffon’s glower grows fierce as he looks down at the ground, grumbling to himself.

“Thank you for your kindness,” the dragon says, scooping up the money. You lie back in bed and open the book, exhaling heavily

“Don’t thank me, thank Princess Celestia. It’s her money. I just don’t need you guys having a bounty over your head and giving me more work. If I were you, I’d get out of here before they come look—” Looking over, you notice they’re no longer there. No skin off your nose. As you begin reading the book, a loud beep plays over the intercom.

“We apologize for the delay. We will resume our trip momentarily.”

The train horn blows and you’re back on course. Looking at the scenery, you notice the swift transition from vast plains to industrial city. Lights cut through the darkness , leaving a familiar feeling. It’s like being in Seattle all over again. A sharp knock draws your attention from the window. You open the door.

“Hello, Anonymous!” the conductor greets, waving his hoof in the air. It’s gotten to the point that the staff knows your name from taking the train so much. “We’ll be arriving in Stableside momentarily. Be sure to grab your stuff.” He looks around the cart with a concerned expression. “Where’s Pinkie?”

You nervously chuckle. “She’s, uh, not feeling too well.” The conductor nods his head.

“I see. Well, have a good time! Stableside is a great place for vacation!” Too bad you aren’t here for vacation. Making your way through the crowd of ponies, you exit the train and immediately the chill wind beats against you. A whistling stallion loiters in the corner in front of a chariot.

“Hey, buddy,” you say through chattering teeth, “Mind giving me a lift to the docks?” He scans you from head to toe with intensity. You pull out your coin sack and jingle it in the air. His ears perk. “I got money.”

“Hop in,” he barks, throwing the reins over himself.

“Wait!” screams a mare as you start to close the door. She wears a cape and warlock hat covered in stars “The Great and Powe—” You slam the door before she can finish and bang the wall to signal the driver. After several blocks the mare’s screams die out, leaving only the hustle and bustle of the city assailing your ears. It’s a welcome change, being able to fit in a carriage, but you quickly notice why. Minotaurs, griffons, goats; all kinds of creatures roam the streets of this city. A few of them stare at you as you poke your head out the window and admire the scenery.

You find yourself at the dock. The acrid mix of salt and smoke oppress your nostrils. Stepping from the carriage, you pay the stallion for your trip and look around. Where the hell is your boat?

“How dare you ignore me! Could you not hear me calling and knocking at your door.” Turning around, you glance down at the mare from back at the trainstation and quickly spin on your heel.

“Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” you respond. She follows alongside you, matching your pace. You stop for a moment and think. “What did you need a ride for if you walked here anyway?”

The mare snaps her head to the side and pouts “As if the Great and Powerful Trixie would ever walk!” She tips her hat to reveal her horn. Furrowing your brow, you stop.

“Then why were you so eager to take the cab?” Her face grows nervous as she looks around, as if an excuse will fall down in front of her. With a swift flick of the hoof, she snatches your ticket and peers over it.

“Hey!” you snarl, grabbing it back. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You and I are on the same boat, literally speaking. I shall help you find it.” The mare trots ahead of you, checking behind her to see if you’re following. “Are you coming or not?” It’s not like you have much of a choice; if you don’t follow her, she’ll just follow you. You stand there for a moment and wait for the usual sexual innuendo, only to remember that a certain pink mare isn’t around.

“God damn it, Pinkie.”

Author's Notes:

I'm back, baby.