Turquoise was sitting across the table from Adan, both of their plates had a stale piece of wheat bread that seemed to crumble easily; their glass of water was clear - but not completely transparent. Turquoise turned to Graphite and saw him walk in the room, “Good morning, Graphite. I hope you slept well. We had some rain outside last night and I don’t know if you noticed or not,” Turquoise said under the sound of Adan’s crunching.

Graphite was still rubbing his eyes with his hooves and yawned, “Yeah, I noticed - a few drops fell on me, but I’m not a witch - I won’t melt,” He said with a smile.

“Maybe, but I don’t think that armor of yours has any protection against radiation. ‘You soak yourself for too long in that stuff, eventually, you won’t need your horn’s glow to see at night.”

“Can I go outside then?” Graphite asked, being a bit puzzled.

“Oh, yeah, sure. The radiation disperses in the wasteland itself, but living things have the tendency to soak it up. You can’t escape it - it’s everywhere, more or less. Even the pre-war food in the wasteland. The only thing which has kept it edible after all these years was the radiation.”

Graphite finished rubbing his eyes, pulling the seat from the table, and sitting down. Turquoise finished chewing her bite of bread and continued her conversation, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy our breakfast - it’s the last one we’ll have in a while.”

“Is food really that hard to come by out here?” Graphite wondered, feeling worried for the family.

Turquoise took a small sip of water, but didn’t let it interrupt the talk, “Yes, yes it is. We usually go days without food, we come close to-” She stopped herself, noting that Adan was nearby. She got out of her seat, directing Graphite to follow her with a quick wave of her hoof. Graphite was a bit confused, raising his eyebrow at Turquoise; but then he looked over at Adan. Adan had his cheeks full of bread and was chewing it delightfully. He noticed Graphite staring at him so he turned around - with crumbs covered all over his lips and cheeks; he looked at Graphite with his same big, baby-like eyes. Adan just smiled, unaware of what was going on. Graphite couldn’t help to smile and chuckle at Adan’s carefree feelings. He looked back at Turquoise, who was waiting rather impatiently; she waved her hoof again.

Graphite stood up from his chair, and pushed back in -- it was just good manners. He stepped over to Turquoise, at which point, she pulled him closer and continued her talk in a whisper, “I didn’t want to talk about this in front of ‘you know who’,” She murmured with a flick of her head pointing at Adan, “We come closer to death at the end of the week every week just because we can’t find any food out here. Why do you think Adan’s so happy to have stale bread and water in the morning? Because this wil-”

“-this will be his only breakfast for the rest of the week?”

“Yes...” Turquoise had her hooves crossed and held closer to her chest in a feeling of lost hope. She was in no mood to cry, but the look on her face was absolutely heart breaking.

“...It’s hard providing for a child out here, Graphite, this isn’t a world to raise a kid - I didn’t expect having a foal at all...” She held herself tighter, biting her lip before she could go on with the sentence.

Graphite rested his hoof on her shoulder, speaking back to her in a softer tone, “Turquoise, I-I have some rations in my bag, you can have them,” He took Turquoise by her hoof and Graphite led her up to the first floor apartment where he had left his bag. He cantered into the room, looking for his bag. He searched under the bed and behind the desk, he paced back and forth looking for it; Turquoise was standing near it waiting for him. He shuffled over, grabbing the bag with his spell.

Graphite took out two boxes of rations from his bag. They both were white cardboard packages with read stripes lining their circumference. One of them was labeled, “Supper,” the other one was labeled, “Dinner.”

“These were meant as single meals, but if you ration them out, they should be able to last for a few days,” he was ready to hand the meal to the family, but something stopped him. He got a feeling, a tingle in his lips and a tickle in his mind that reminded him of something, “Oh, I almost forgot...” He opened the ‘Dinner’ package and took out a four-pack of Canterfield Cigarettes and the packet of matches. The cigarette package had no colour other than the tan of the cardboard and white of the label, “There, that’s all I needed,” He told her and returned the rations to the blue mare.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Turquoise said as she received the package from Graphite, “You took care of the raiders and now this... You’re a life saver, you know that?”

“It’s just what seems right,” Graphite kept his emotions cool by letting them out in a grin; a grin that just couldn’t be subdued; a grin that told the one pony there that he did something good.

She sighed with a heartwarming feel in her body, “It sure seems right to me. I guess there’s that one pony out there that changes everything for the better - like you and like Adan. From the worst possible place to find a new pony, I found my reason to keep fighting for my life. I may not find food everyday, but those moments come along like this that gives me a little push and I know that as long as I have Adan to think about, I need no more push to help me keep moving forward,” Turquoise’s hoof touched Graphite on the shoulder, her eyes were relaxed and sympathetic, “You’re a gentlecolt, and there’s nothing more you need to do to show it than how you’ve shown me,” She pulled Graphite close, giving him a caring clasp.

Graphite stood in his spot, letting Turquoise embrace him. His heart and mind were uplifted and he finally came to realize just the thing he needed to do. He wrapped his arm around her in the final moments of the hug, before she finally pulled away. Graphite could never feel any better than he did in that moment - the moment of affection and understanding. He could feel the forgiveness of his actions, and the answer to his problem both speak to him then and there.

Turquoise grabbed what she could of the rations and was already moving to take them downstairs. Graphite had a clear set in his mind and was ready to follow it; all he needed was to grab his rifle and bag and he could move out. His rifle was leaning against the destroyed wardrobe and his bag was laying where Turquoise had left it, right by his hooves. He slung the bag over him then grabbed his rifle from the wardrobe. He had nothing else on his mind except for this goal; he meandered straight out of the room and reached the entrance to the apartment.

“-Are you going to leave us without a goodbye?”

Graphite was struck out of his trance, and looked behind him to see Turquoise standing just at the top of the stairs. He paused where he stood; it took him a moment, but he finally turned around to respond.

“I would never,” Graphite said back with a smirk, tyring to hide his embarrassment.

“Then?” She looked at him like she had won the battle - a bit cocky and playful.

“Goodbye, Turquoise. It’s nice to know that I’m not the last pony in the world.”

“I guess I could say the same - mostly. Good luck to you, Graphite.”

Graphite turned back towards the doorway, when Adan came out from the basement full speed yelling, “Wait! Mister Graphite!” He came at Graphite in a bolt of speed and yelled again, “Wait!”

Graphite waited, just as little Adan screamed at him to do. Adan stood at his feet with his beady eyes staring him down. He looked down and paused for whatever it was Adan wanted, “I made you something, Graphite!” Adan said with a glee in his squeak. He pulled a tiny string out from behind him - it was a necklace. It was made of a rough leather strip tied together by a simple knot; on the end of the necklace was a small turquoise gemstone. The stone was nothing special - just an uncut piece of turquoise hanging in a string which kinda reminded Graphite of a bootlace.

“I found this one day while me and mommy scavenging. It looks just like mommy’s coat! And if you tie it in a string, you can wear it like a necklace!”

“Thank you, Adan,” Graphite said as he levitated the necklace and put it around his neck. He tied it so that the stone would be on the inside of his armor, just underneath his neck plate, “I’ll always wear it, to remind me of you.”

Adan came up to Graphite and wrapped his little arms around Graphite’s leg. Graphite patted his back, being unable to frown. Adan finally stopped and ran back to Turquoise. Graphite walked out the door and into the sun back outside; he headed in the direction of downtown Buckago. He walked down almost a block, when he turned and looked back at what used to be his home. Adan was still standing under door’s archway and waved his goodbyes when he noticed that Graphite was looking at him. Graphite also waved one last goodbye and continued down the road, passing all the abandoned homes.

He went back to the intersection in the middle of the neighborhood. Back where he started again; the same paths of choices. Downtown was just down the road through the middle of Carnen. He took a step forward; continuing his journey to downtown.

The streets were cold and quiet, much quieter than what Graphite remembered. They were once full of life, now empty and uninviting - a ghost town. He walked through another row of houses and saw some baskets with empty milk bottles laying outside doors of the apartment buildings, awaiting a milkpony which would never come. The bottles hadn’t shattered in the blasts, nor after two hundred years of wind, rain, and vandalism. One of the houses still had a newspaper awaiting the owner to pick it up. Graphite stepped to the paper to read what it had to say. The paper was soggy from last night’s rain; stained black from the black drops of dead water. The paper was impossible to read; the droplets of rain were like black paint censoring the lines of paper and keeping whatever was behind secret.

Graphite grabbed the corner of the paper and tried reading what was on the next page - which was also soaked in water. He flipped through the rest of the pages using his magic; all of them soaked down with darkened fluids. He dropped the paper, then went on with his travels. He moved on down the desolate road, moving silently down through the roads of Carnen. Every building, all the houses, and the apartments; all of them were burnt black from the smoke. The windows were either blown out or cracked from incoming debris. Memories of what his old neighborhood was like were slowly but surely flooding into his mind.

Graphite could paint the image of how Carnen once was in his mind as he walked down the road. The town was bustling with ponies walk to and fro from work or the store, wagons rode along the street carrying travelers and shippers alike. The structures around were still intact - the paint was still on them too. He remembered the milkpony bringing up the bottles of milk to each house; he remembered the song the milkpony would whistle throughout the day. It was upbeat and very cheery, it put a spring in the milkpony’s step every day and he wouldn’t stop whistling the tune until he got home -- he probably even whistled it in his sleep. Every pony in town knew his whistle, sometimes humming or whistling along with him. The milkpony never said anything, so his song was the only thing the neighborhood could recognize him by. The memory of that song was coming to Graphite again. Without warning, he began to whistle. He whistled the tune of the milkpony. The groove of the song lead into a sway, then a spring, and a skip. Before he knew it, Graphite was springing down the street like the milkpony.

Graphite skipped about whistling, until he stopped at a junction and noticed a large billboard on the wall of a red brick house. The billboard was mostly faded, the paint near the edges of it had cracked or already peeled off, “Join now!” The billboard read. It featured a yellow mare with a pink mane in a white nurses outfit and in an according white hat to go with the outfit. The yellow mare was a leader of one of the six ministries - Fluttershy. She held out a scroll entitled ‘Enlistment’ in her mouth, “Ministry of Peace serves to all of the pony kind.”

“Ministry o-” Graphite stopped reading and grabbed his head as another sharp headache hit him. He knelt down hugging his head. As he closed his eyes, he saw a bright green unicorn in a large helmet with a three butterflies painted on it, the helmet covered his mane. The unicorn was starring at him with his lime green eyes, he certainly stood out in the grey background of his memory.

“There’s a live one ‘ere!” He called out as he looked away for a second and then returned his sight to Graphite, “You okay, mate?” The green stallion asked Graphite while shaking his shoulder.

He opened his eyes again and was in the same junction in which he was earlier. The headache had gone, but the vision which he saw left him riddled and confused. Graphite got up - shaking his head - and decided to keep moving forward, yet he still thought of where he had seen that pony before. No matter how hard he tried to reach the thought, he couldn’t remember. He pressed forward, the memory fading away, but the thought still in his mind.

The road out of Carnen extended out a ways, so Graphite brought up his Pip-Buck and checked the data section for the route. Buckago was south of Carnen - almost a day’s walk. There didn’t seem to be any shorter way than to take the current road. The next neighborhood was right on the border of Bucakgo, so Graphite had to prepare for a very long journey. He checked the map one more time just to make sure he didn’t look at it wrong. Too his disappointment, he hadn’t; there wasn’t even a place to rest. There was nothing else to do, nowhere else to turn, nothing to lose. His one goal was in Buckago and if the only way there is a day’s hike down an abandoned road, well that was going to be his first obstacle on his journey. The sign saying farewell to ponies leaving Carnen was a right next to Graphite. His last
goodbye before he began his trek.

He pulled his bag open, levitating out the packet of Canterfield Cigarettes and the pack of matches. He struck a match against the matchbook and started the match going. Placing the cigarette in his mouth and lighting the end, he puffed a cloud of smoke. He remembered his radio on the Pip-Buck, so he flipped the volume up and cut the radio on. Yet again it was the 108.3 FM station, it was the only one which appeared on the radio signals page. A song was in the middle when Graphite switched on the station.

Playing was another classic back in Graphite’s time. An instrumental, the composer and the band unknown to Graphite - but they sounded good, and that’s what mattered. It was upbeat and had the swing to make anyone get up and dance. Graphite took a deep breath, letting out the relief that needed to escape in a long sigh.

Feeling mentally prepared -- or as much as he’ll ever be -- he took his step forward, starting his expedition to Buckago. One hoof after the other over the road is how Graphite traveled. One hoof after the other was the only way for him to travel. Down and down the road he went with nothing to stop him and only one thing to keep him going. Down and down the road he went almost like a robot, one action to carry out and one thing to help him complete that action. He kept moving forward, his exhaustion only to be ignored. He kept moving forward with his eyes and mind set towards reaching Buckago. One hoof after the other down and down the road, he kept moving forward to reach his goal of arriving in Buckago.

There was a thick fog that covered blanketed the trail. It covered the road ahead and behind, cutting off the area around him. He could only see the black of the road and dirt and dead grass to the sides. The fog was a disgusting shade of grey; the fog was like smoke and Graphite didn’t enjoy being in the middle of it. He couldn’t see his hoof in front of his face and the eerie landscape ahead didn’t seem very friendly. He didn’t notice before, but his pace was gradually picking up. A sound came from the fogs, piercing the cloud like a bullet. Graphite flinched and scurried faster for a short distance until he felt it had finally stopped stalking him.

He stopped his run, slowing down back to a careful trot and catching the breath he needed to keep moving. The fog still overshadowed the land, but at least Graphite had escaped that beast. Graphite never saw what made the sound, but he wanted to assume it was a vicious monster. Whether it was his own conscience creating this monster or his purposeful imagination, he was glad it gave him something to keep himself entertained. There was nothing else to do on this barren road than use his imagination to keep himself entertained - even if it meant scaring himself. The scenery wasn’t much to look at - from what he could see - just mounds of dirt and rocks, a few patches of dead grass were scattered here and there. The rest of landscape was obscured by the dingy fog.

It felt like he walked the Earth twice over, the exhaustion had been taking its toll. A minute on this road lasts an eternity, and Buckago was still a day’s away. The songs that played on the radio droned on, sometimes repeating themselves right after they finish.

Graphite was tired, lonely, and most of all - bored. His goal was reaching Buckago, but he never realized how long this road would take to travel. A day’s walk seemed like a lost cause; he would be happy if he made it there at all. He blew out a sigh, just to make sure he was still breathing. To his amazement, he was still alive - he wasn’t trapped in hell.

The fog was like the smoke from the fires of hell below. It never went away - it was always there, always around - it covered all things ahead and seemed to have no end. Nothing was in sight other than Graphite’s own four hooves. He felt like the only things around were the road and him, but there was something else lurking in the shadows of the fog. A figure appeared beneath the cover of the fog. It was tall and wide, it was standing alongside another figure just as long and wide. Graphite neared toward it, following the road as he had been since his journey began. The fog started to thin out, the two silhouettes turned into to brown brick buildings. The buildings appeared to be apartment houses; worn out wooden staircases covered the sides of the buildings while the walkways wrapped around each story. Clothes lines spanned across the two building’s balconies, with faded shirts hanging on them. The clothes were swaying lightly in the small breeze; they looked like they have been hanging on that line for the past two hundred years. Their colours had faded away with the rains. The reds had turned to pinks, the blues to grey, and whites turning into a dirty tan from the dirt fluttering through the breeze.

Graphite looked around, finding he was in the backyard of the two buildings. An old scooter was leaning against one of the stairways. It had rusted completely and even had some weeds growing up the wheels and up to the handlebars. The rust stained the wooden poles on the stairwell into a gross red-ish brown colour. There wasn’t a sign of any pony anywhere. Graphite stopped his sightseeing and checked his map screen. His marker was right on the north border of Buckago.

Graphite sighed a sigh of relief and exclaimed under his breath, “Yes!” He reached his goal; mostly happy to be off that lonesome road. Graphite felt like dancing with excitement, but his feelings meandered off immediately when a crack of glass was made from the balconies above. Graphite’s smile cut off like a light switch and he whipped his head back towards the third floor balcony.

Nothing there except the bricks on the walls and shattered glass windows. One of the rods holding up the roof of the balcony snapped off its place and plummeted to the ground. It was quiet, only the sounds of the wind whistling between the buildings and the soft puffing of Graphite’s worried breathing. He pulled his rifle from the sling and prepped it.

Graphite spun slowly in a circle, checking every notch and crevice for his predator. A gust of wind floated by and wiggled the clothes hanging on the line. Another sound came from the balconies - this time a wooden board creaking under someone’s weight. He pointed the barrel of his rifle to the second floor balcony. Nothing again - just the dust mites glittering the air and the still absence of life.

Graphite’s heart was pounding against his chest, the sounds of the beating now feeling the cold silence. With the thump thump thumping in his chest, another sound emerged from the buildings - it was now a growl. The growl was low and menacing, almost like a vicious dog. Another growl came from behind him - then another growl - and another. Graphite froze in his spot, not knowing where to look or what to do. He waited for the animals to come for him. An extremely loud bark echoed across the walls of the apartments and the crowd of growls around began in a synchronized howl.

A wild dog jumped from the first story balcony; Graphite recoiled with shock and landed on his backside. This wasn’t a golden retriever looking for his master - it was something else. This beast had patches of fur burnt off, showing only the scarred skin underneath; its eyes were glowing red with anger and balefire; its teeth looked black; and its claws were longer than normal, like they could rip straight through your chest.

The abomination leaped towards Graphite without warning, its mouth wide open and aimed straight for his neck. Graphite whipped his rifle ahead of him, blocking the bite of the monster. The slobber of the savage beast spit and swathed around, getting all over the rifle and splashing on Graphite. The dog swiped at scratched with his claws trying to get to Graphite’s neck. He tried to push back the thing, but it wouldn’t stop, it kept coming; then, the rest of the pack came from the balconies. Graphite took a look back, still holding the other dog off with the body of the rifle, there were two- three more wilds dogs coming from the buildings; all with the same charred fur and glowing green eyes as the first.

Another bounded for Graphite, teeth first - snarling and growling. Graphite tossed the first dog away with a throw of his rifle; he grabbed for his knife from the sheath and kept it straight ahead, pointing towards the other hound. The dog jumped straight unto the blade of the knife - the entire length of the blade sliding straight through its chest. The beast squealed in pain, flailing its claws at Graphite. He threw the dying, bleeding dog off him and jumped to his hooves; keeping a tight hold on his knife. The first dog spit the rifle from his jaws, shaking it off like it was nothing. The two remaining hounds were slowly converging to Graphite, the first dog paced faster to him, and the last one lay writhing on the floor with an open wound and a puddle of blood pooling around its torso.

The first dog sprinted from its position, eyes fixed on Graphite. The dog let out a loud bark that morphed into a growl as his open mouth neared Graphite’s leg. At the sound of the bark, the last two dogs went form a trump to a dash. Graphite took a swing at the first hound, but missed - the wild dog biting down on Graphite’s leg. The beast pulled, tugged, and swung his head around trying to tear through the flesh and bone. The violent shaking threw off Graphite’s aim as he tried to stab the knife into the attacker - then the last two dogs jumped for Graphite.

He swung his unarmed hoof aimlessly in the direction of the dogs, managing to smack one in its head.The other dog sunk its teeth into his duster and started to pull it back. The dog was strong enough to pull him back enough to release the first dog’s bite around his leg - but it dragged him down to the ground. The dog tugged his duster back, bringing Graphite along with it. The lace keeping the duster secured to Graphite was now being laced around his neck and cutting off his breathing. The first dog was now snarling back at the hound dragging Graphite, but it didn’t stop it.

The air was starting to lessen in his lungs, but with the last bit of his willpower, he grabbed the knife with his magic and flung it backwards as powerful as he could send it. Graphite winced as the air was leaving him, but then a disturbing cracking noise splattered out from behind him. The dragging stopped; his duster loosened up and flopped to the floor along with a louder thud. Graphite looked back, seeing the knife had traveled straight into the head of the wild dog and broke its skull open. The first dog regained its hold of Graphite’s leg and was now dragging him in the opposite direction.

Graphite slammed his hoof down on the ground with anger - and also trying to grab a hold of something along the ground. Graphite ground his teeth, and stared straight into the eyes of the animal. He focused on the glowing red eyes of the killer; the deep red eyes like a crimson blood had soaked the surface of the sun. Another burst of willpower grabbed the knife from the dead dog’s head - pulling it out of the frothy mix of blood and brains. He used the full distance from the dead dog to the live one to chuck the blade straight at the beast’s head - but there was one more dog still lurking, waiting for its time to strike.

It dug its jaws down into the armour of his steel gauntlets - causing the flying knife to veer off and into the wooden frames around the building. The plates stopped the teeth from sinking into his skin, but the pressure was still unbearable. The mindless tugging and rattling of the dog’s raging bite made the bite worse. He pounded the head of hound repeatedly, screaming and yelling as his hoof sent blow after blow at the head of the dog - but it did nothing to stop it. The first hound ripped a thread of skin, sending a tight rip down through his leg. Graphite screamed in pain from the tear. His free leg flinched, knocking the beast in its jaw with his knee. It was a powerful enough blow to knock the dog loose, giving Graphite just a split-second to kick the dog - once again - in the head.

The wild hound recoiled with pain, whimpering like a scared puppy. Graphite gave one more hard jab to the dog on his arm, knocking the thing out with a high pitched woof. He peeled the the dog’s mouth from his gauntlet, slowly and painfully standing to his hooves. As he stood, a sharp burn shot up his leg - causing him to yell in pain. Blood was gushing from the tear in his leg, a sliver of flesh was hanging down as the blood flowed down. Graphite gripped his leg, trying to keep the blood from flowing - but the first dog was still ready to fight.

The dog’s jaw seemed loose from the blow; it was hanging down and the drool was starting to leak out even more. It was slumping over in its walk, it was ready to fall but it wasn’t going to. Graphite had a similar trudge, limping along with his bleeding leg elevated. The hound came charging, reaching Graphite, and taking a swipe at his chest. The claws scratched the steel and left a clear make across it,but Graphite shifted his weight right, knocking the dog to its side. It tried to get up, unable to get a footing. Graphite limped his way to the dog’s body, pulling his knife from the building frame. The dog’s eyes were still red with rage, it gnashed its teeth, growling viciously at him. Graphite held the blade in a levitation, his eyes were just as infilled with rage as the dog’s. He brought the knife up and down with killer speed - but the dog leaped up just as he did. The knife hit the dog in the chest, but he was already midair and nothing could stop him from tackling Graphite. Graphite was pushed back down, the dog’s mouth was trying to bite and tear away at him, but he kept it back with all the strength left in his hooves. The dog’s mouth was right over Graphite’s horn, the saliva and hot breaths of air surrounding it. He gave some leeway, letting the dog fall forward before pushing it back up and running his horn through the hound’s neck. The dog wasn’t able to finish its woof, interrupted by the horn in its throat; it gagged and squealed, trying to produce a noise to express its pain, but Graphite ripped it out, tossing the dog to floor.

Graphite was panting and bleeding on the floor, he couldn’t move, he was too tired. He was trying his hardest to take in deeper breaths, but the thick air caused him to just cough it back out. His vision was blurring, he realized he was going to pass out. Graphite took another breath - and another cough - then remembered his first-aid kit. It was a small yellow case with three pink butterflies, the ministry of peace symbol on it. He was losing his vision progressively, but he had just enough strength and the will to flip open the case and grab a syringe. It was a tiny syringe, no bigger than two inches with the protective cap on. He used his levitation spell to pull off the cap of with a pop; the needle was just long enough to go through each layer of the skin. Graphite was beginning to get woozy, loosing his grip on the syringe - almost dropping it on the ground. He took a breath, holding it in; he gripped the syringe tighter, then rammed it into his thigh, just above the bite wound. He cringed, groaning badly from the tight prick. He pulled the needle back out of his leg and just tossed the empty case on the ground. Graphite’s vision began to clear up; the burning, searing pain in his leg was starting to numb.

As he looked down on his leg, the wound was healing right before his eyes. He had seen some ponies use it before, but it still amazed him - how did the magical potions inside do that? The flesh molded back into its right place, the skin and muscle rebuilt themselves almost instantaneously. The blood clot itself and stopped the bleeding just as fast as the skin healed. The pain eased away, as his vision improved. The pain had almost completely left him, but his leg still felt a bit locked up.

Graphite rolled over, pushing himself up to his hooves. He got up, but stumbled as he got on his legs. His knee was hard to bend, and his leg was numb from the sedative in the potion. The four hell hounds were all lying on the floor around Graphite. The first one seemed to be still alive, even with the hole deep in its neck, as its eyes were still glowing a dim red; the second one was just opposite to the first, the big crevice in its head was still pouring out blood; the third dog was knocked out to the right of the first, its eyes were closed, but it was still breathing; the last was just to the left of the first, it had just died after bleeding out for the last few moments.

They all laid in a group, all in a cross formation around Graphite who stood in the middle of this dying intersection. The one thing on Graphite’s mind - “I need a nap.” There were two apartment buildings to choose from, each with ten rooms to pick and decide. He headed for the apartment just in front of him since it was closer. He trotted towards the staircase with his hind leg still elevated. He struggled up the stairs, only on three legs to get up a flight of old, creaky stairs. Graphite kept a steady hoof on the rails, the splinters sticking against the glove of his gauntlet. He made it to the first floor, starting to drag himself along the rails of the wooden porch. There was one room at the end of the walkway; the door was wooden and molded, the termites seemed to have gotten to it. The window next to the door was just one panel of clear glass attached around a cheap wooden frame - that one panel had a large crack in the corner. He slide along the rail to get to the door; his coordination was shot due to his exhaustion, so he just pushed the door open with a blunt nudge.

The door was already loose and unlocked. The inside of the apartment was run-down, murky, and abandoned. There were two twin sized beds laying against the back wall; between them was an old side table with one drawer and a small place to stick things underneath; the wallpaper was a gaudy floral design with pink petaled flowers and a yellow background, it already started to peel off; the bathroom was just aside the beds; but Graphite rather not check out a two hundred year old, grungy bathroom at this late hour. The ceiling was ridden with mildew, and growing around the plastic chandelier above; the floor below was a dirty red carpet that had knots and stains all across it; the beds were just as stained - if not worse. There was an awful red stain on both sheets of the beds; but the one on the left seemed to have a smaller one, so Graphite went ahead and invited himself to that bed.

He jumped into the bed, grabbed the flat pillow, and brought it under his head. A cloud of dust plumed out the pillow case; Graphite didn’t notice, his eyes were already closed and his major exhaustion brought him to sleep. The cold, thick air of the fog plumed into the room through the crack in the window and the wide open door beside it. It cooled the room down to a nice even temperature, the breeze flowed softly through the room, blowing against the dust bunnies across the aisle. It was the perfect temperature for an afternoon nap.