Ricochet slept well through the night and awoke the next morning when every pony was having breakfast in the main room. She peaked her head above her body, looking over to the circle of ponies with her eyes squinted. The mare seemed to be confused by the surroundings in which she awoke in, but quickly remembered the events of yesterday. The crowd of eaters turned to her when they noticed she was awake.

“Have a good rest, Ricochet?” Graphite politely asked.

With a yawn and stretch, Ricochet replied back, “Well, I feel better than I did yesterday...”

“At least you feel better-” Graphite turned to Mayflower, taking another bite of his apple flavoured ration bar, “-Mayflower, do we have any extra can of peaches, or maybe another apple bar?”

“Oh, you don’t have to - I’ve been enough trouble for you guys already,” Ricochet tried reassuring the others, but Mayflower already stood to grab the extra food from the storage.

“You need to eat, ma’am,” Mayflower told Ricochet, swinging the supplies hatch open.

“Please, I’ll be fi-”

“-You’re going to need the energy for your next task, miss Ricochet,” Graphite added in a more serious tone of voice.

“Oh?” Ricochet wondered.

Mayflower trotted passed with a half can of peaches in her levitation spell. The last piece of dishware was used, so she had to use the can itself to hold the peaches. She grabbed the first spoon she could find, and came back to Ricochet with her breakfast, “Here you are,” She said, handing her the can.

“Oh, thank you miss...”

“...Mayflower,” Mayflower answered.

“So, what’s this about my ‘next task...’?”

Graphite swallowed his last bite of the apple bar, then chugged the small glass of water. He got up from his seat on the floor, the kids around simply going back to their meals as he stood, and traveled to the counter, “Well we may have spared your life, but you still have to pay the price for attacking us...”

Ricochet didn’t reply, she just looked at him with some confusion - and a bite full of peaches. Graphite reached around the side of the counter, digging his hoof around for something behind the counter. Ricochet swallowed down her bite of food, going for another spoonful of peaches just as Graphite found what he was looking for, “The others found this lying in some rubble in the apartments across the street,” Graphite mentioned as he whipped out a shovel, “And you’re going to use it to dig graves for your colleagues out there.”

“I guess that it’s... fair enough,” Ricochet divulged when she finished her gulp of the peaches.

“Finish your breakfast and then meet me behind the apartment house on the right,” Graphite conveyed, picking up his rifle and heading out the door.

Ricochet was silent again, she thought she might say something she would regret if even a single blurb left her lips. She finished the last peach in the can, then picked herself from the blanket. She staggered a bit, not use to the feelings in her legs again, the numbness had left and the wounds were had completely vanished. After checking on each place where she remembered she had a scrape or scratch, she set her breakfast and trotted out the front of the pharmacy. Mayflower watched her as she left. Ricochet stepped outside into the cool morning breeze, the air passing though the streets felt relaxing against her light gray coat. The sun had just poked its head over the horizon; there was a very light fog that covered the streets, but nothing that should be worried about. She took her steps to the right, heading to the alley where Graphite commanded her to meet him. When she reached the corner of the building, she found Graphite leaning against the side of the apartment with a cigarette lit in his mouth.

“Alright, it will be faster if you just dig one big one for all of them. Here’s the shovel,” Graphite remarked and gave her the shovel.

Ricochet held the shovel in her hooves, blowing a sigh into the wind, “Okay...” Was the only thing she could utter.

She set course for the courtyard just outside the apartments, dragging the bodies along as she passed them. She lined them neatly in a row, then grabbed the shovel with a tight grip.

The gray mare dug the pit for several hours under the watch of Graphite. At times, one of the kids would run over to them and bring them both a bottle of water. Then she would pause digging for a bit, but return to it very hastily - stared down by Graphite and his rifle. Pile after pile of dirt flung out the ditch that was slowly being made by the lone mare. The crew of foals now had a stockpile of dirt just outside their front lawn. It was just after lunch time when Ricochet finished her tomb for the damned. The sun was beating down over head, and the bodies were starting to boil and stink.

Ricochet wiped the sweat from her brow and rubbed her sore, aching arms. Graphite came to the border of the mare-made crater with a dripping wet burlap sack and two chard remnants of griffons in the tow of his telekinesis spell. He dropped the two bodies and the sack right at the edge of the hole and told Ricochet, “Don’t forget these guys.”

Ricochet crawled out of the grave, knocking some loose dirt into the bottom of the hole as her hooves stepped onto the sides of the grave. As much as Graphite seemed like the evil slaver now, making the poor mare work to dig her associates’ own graves, he was kind enough to lend her a hoof out of the hole. She took the aid with a happy surprise - but contained the smile that wanted to stretch out. Graphite pulled her out of the crater, dusting the dirt from mane and coat.

Graphite helped the mare to drop the dead bodies into the grave. The bodies piled up in an random menagerie of rotted carcasses and assortments of bloody potato sacks and overcooked griffon bodies. She stood next to Graphite by the edge of the pit, resting her front hooves on the shovel.

“So, any last words for your friends?” Graphite inquired.

“None of them were my friends - come to think of it - I wouldn’t feel comfortable calling any of those ponies a friend.”

“Weren’t you a team?”

“We were randomly picked to capture the foals again. If it wasn’t for the money, I would steer clear of them as far as possible. I think that stallion you blew up even yelled some whorish things to me by the bar one day.”

“What about the griffons?”

“They were just some extra guns. Most of the slavers are piss drunk and can’t shoot for shit if you send them on a mission this early in the morning. So yeah, they were just insurance.”

Graphite and Ricochet stood there in a silence, looking down at the bodies for a few minutes until Graphite decided to break the silence, “Why did they send such a big squad after a bunch of kids?”

“We went in more numbers since we knew that Peachy was with the children.-”

“-Peachy? There’s no pony here by that name.”

“It’s the dark orange one. I think that you guys call him Rotten or something like that...”

Graphite started to chuckle, covering up his mouth by his hoof, “How the hell did Peachy get his name?”

Ricochet also smiled, “He only knows how to do two things - kill others and how to prepare peaches,” The mare grew serious again, “Rotten’s a raider child. Though his mother must have been on the drugs constantly, there ain’t no way a foal can be that wild.”

Graphite stopped himself in his thoughts for a brief moment, disgusted to realize that Rotten had been preparing the peaches the whole time he was there. There was no telling where has hooves had been. He quickly realized that he had to continue the conversation.

“He’s just ill-tempered - I wouldn’t call him wild...”

“...Oh no, he is. We used to test our younger slaves in an arena to see if they are going to be fighters or not. Whenever Peachy was pitted against an opponent, he surprised them by going for their throats first and ripping out chunks of flesh with his teeth.”

“Wow, that’s very... appetizing...” Graphite tried to make sense of the disturbing thought, but the most sensible explanation was that Peachy was generally a wild card.

“Eeyup.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind while you finish the burial, Ricochet,” Graphite nodded his head at Ricochet, going back to his post behind her - he planted his rear on the rock that was in place in the field of the courtyard.

Ricochet shook her head and blew out another sigh of annoyance, moving on to the mountain of dirt and shoveling it back into the body filled divot. The day sun was setting just as the last bit of gravel filled the hole in the ground. Graphite had fallen asleep on the rock - his head slumped over and his eyes shut tight. Ricochet noticed this, and used it to give herself a moment of entertainment.

She took the shovel in both hooves and held it above her head - Graphite was still dead asleep. She swung the shovel down full force, slamming the shovel head against the body of the rock. Graphite jumped, falling head first on the ground. Ricochet also dropped the shovel from her hooves, the resonance bounced back and knocked it straight from her hooves. She held her hooves between her thighs and seared through her teeth; Graphite fell on the floor holding the top of his head and groaning. Ricochet lost balance, falling down, but she was more caring of her vibrating hooves than her now sore shoulder. Graphite tried to stand, picking himself up with one hoof while the other was gripped tight on his head.

“W-why...?” Graphite grumbled low.

“It was s-s-suppose to be funny...” The searing made Ricochet hold her ‘S’s like a snake biting it’s own tail.

The two ponies writhed in pain on the ground of the courtyard; Ricochet embarrassed and Graphite stunted. Graphite finally made it to his hooves, but he was dizzy from the headache. He took his steps in a slow ‘one at a time’ pace as he trumped over to the other end of the courtyard. That numbness in Ricochet’s hooves was starting to come back - that familiar feeling of no feeling. She cringed and started to shake out her hooves when the feeling was lost.

“Let’s head back to the pharmacy, Richochet,” Graphite growled, slumping to the other end of the street.

Ricochet could only nod in agreement, and help herself up with most of the strength coming from her two hind legs. It was an awkward time trying to get back up, but she finally managed to do it with enough squirming. Her front half was a bit wobbly, but she could walk, and that’s all she needed to make the short trip back to the pharmacy.

A cold pleasure came down on Graphite’s head - Mayflower had given Graphite a cold can of peaches to act as an icepack for his headache. The same icy feeling was felt in Ricochet’s hooves; She wrapped a cloth around her hooves that was kept underneath the snowy cans.

Ricochet flipped her head to Graphite, who was holding the peach can to the core of his head, “So, what’s my next task, sir?”

The can was slowly being warmed by Graphite’s own natural body temperature, and the can started to transpire and bead water down it’s sides - but it was better than nothing. He wiped some of the drips from his snout and told her, “You don’t have one - you’re free to go now.”

Ricochet’s ears perked, she swept the hooves from the freezing water, and stood straight to her hooves, “Free to go...?”

“Yeah, we don’t have anything else to do with you, you’re free to go back to the c-”

“-But I can’t just go back,” She interrupted Graphite mid-sentence, a noticeable worry in her voice.

Graphite was also in that amount of shock where he had to remove the icy package from the top of his head and jump down from the counter, “Why not, it’s not like they won’t let back in the cam-”

“-They won’t let me back in the camp. If they see I came back empty hoofed, they’ll have me shot or raped - they might even take me in as a slave! I can’t just go back now!”

The room went quiet after that moment. Ricochet was breathing heavily, and small tears beaded down the sides of her face; the foals started to filter into the pharmacy from the back room wondering what was going on. Mayflower was right behind them, followed by Rotten too. Graphite didn’t know how to respond, but he wanted to calm the poor mare down.

“Listen, no pony is making you go back there.”

“Yeah, but there’s nothing else to go back to,” Ricochet held her head in her hooves and she looked ready to weep, but she wasn’t going to let her self do that.

Graphite looked around and thought for a while. He gathered ideas in his mind and went up and put his hoof on the mare’s shoulder, “You know, I was going to leave soon. How about you stay here with the kids? They might be a bit more independent, but the foals need someone to babysit them, and the Mayflower and Rotten could always use the extra hoof,” Was the first idea that came to Graphite’s mind.

“There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ that bi-” Rotten was about to start an argument, but was quickly stopped by Mayflower; she punched him in the shoulder and glared at him. He sighed and looked Ricochet and said in a low voice, “Fine, you can stay here...”

Graphite turned back to Ricochet, his hoof still patted on her shoulder, “See, I knew they’d let you stay.”

A single tear finally broke through Ricochet’s tough exterior and fell down the side of her face - a tear of joy - “That’s... great - t-thank you...” She felt the tear against her cheek, and was quick to wipe it away.

Graphite left her side, giving her a smile as he took a step towards the front of the pharmacy. Mayflower pushed aside the foals in front of her to get to Graphite; her voice picked up as she watched Graphite, “Are you leaving now?”

Graphite didn’t even get to take a second step before he was stopped. He spun around to face Mayflower, who looked as if she had lost her parents all over again, “Yes, I am, Mayflower.”

Ricochet stepped back, Mayflower moved closer to Graphite, and the foals all started to swarm forward. Mayflower looked Graphite in the eyes, “Why?”

“I have to get to downtown sometime, Mayflower,” Graphite tried his best to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t working.

“But you can stay too, with us and the kids - we could always use the extra hoof like you said,” She held out her hood to him, but Graphite pushed it away gently.

“That’s why you have Ricochet.”

“You can’t make it out there on your own-”

“-I can handle myself - I’m the one who taught you how to fight, after all.”

Rotten eased the kids out of his away as well, coming up beside Mayflower and resting his hoof on her back, “Just let the pony go, Mayflower...”

Graphite was surprised to see Rotten speak in a soft voice for once, he wasn’t sure if it was for Mayflower or Graphite’s sake, but it was certainly a great change of pace. Mayflower nudged Rotten’s hoof off her back with her shoulder, and looked back up to Graphite, “At least take some supplies with you before you leave, Graphite.”

“Okay,” Graphite nodded, waiting in his same spot while Mayflower galloped over to the storage space.

Lifting up the hatch, she stood by as the top swung open, and a small blow of dust fly up from the storage room. She used her magic to bring out some cartridges of .308, anything left of the apple bar rations, a pack of cigarettes she said she ‘borrowed’ from Rotten’s stash, and one more thing she needed to traverse into the back room for. All the foals, Ricochet, Rotten, and Graphite all paused when Mayflower stepped out. It was merely an awkward silence, but there was a feeling of emptiness that didn’t allow anyone to speak a word. Graphite brushed some dust bunnies off his duster; Mayflower finally stepped in, and a sigh of relief was hypothetically blew out all across the room. Mayflower waded through the crowd of foals once more and came over to Graphite with a small burlap sack that jingled with loose rounds of ammo and something metal that clanked against them.

“Here, I wasn’t going to let you go out there unprepared,” She waved the pouch in front of Graphite, “And one more thing,” she untied the top of the bag and opened it up, bringing out a canteen with a blue metal casing. On the front was imprinted the number thirty nine in yellow ink.

“Everyone in the stable got one of these canteens, this one belonged to my parents. I... I want you to keep it - to remember m- us by.”

Graphite took the canteen with his hoof, and examined it thoroughly. He looked at the paint that was half-way scratched off, and some of the dings on the case itself. He bit the top with his mouth and unscrewed it too peek inside. He couldn’t see since the shadows liked to funnel inside the tiny little canteen -- and the fact that it was empty. He screwed the top back on and pulled the lace that was wrapped around the canteen. The strap was just long enough to lace around his belt loop, and knot tightly around it. He was focused on getting that strap around his belt, but he was caught off guard when Mayflower wrapped her hooves around his body and gave him a strong hug. Graphite smiled wide, but he didn’t want to give up his manly demeanor to hug back; but he let her hold the hug as long as she wanted. After a few happy seconds, she backed off, and tied his sack back up tight and put it inside Graphite’s bag for him.

“We’ll miss you, Graphite,” Mayflower smiled at Graphite, but was in the feeling to frown just as much as she smiled. She rested her hoof on Hot-Sauce’s head, who was just as sad as the other foals.

The foals’ faces were almost heartbreaking enough for Graphite to stay. They all had long faces and that childish pouting face that was like seeing a sick puppy. Angel Eyes and Gumdrops were making a quiet whimpering noise which was all the more saddening.

Graphite just held the best grin he could muster up and waved a goodbye to the foals, “I’ll miss you guys too.”

Rotten stood back, trying to keep his rotten attitude aglow, “See ya,” He muffled to Graphite.

Graphite started for the entrance again, Ricochet was waving her goodbyes as well. He didn’t get more than four steps in before being stopped once more. Hot-Sauce grappled onto his leg and was hugging it for dear life, not ready to let go of him.

Strangely Graphite could feel the warmth of Hot-Sauce’s hug even through the sleeve of his duster and the metal plating that was underneath it. The rest of the foals rushed in to strangle Graphite’s legs with their little arms. Hot-Sauce, Angel Eyes, Gumdrops, and Blankey all held tight unto Graphite’s legs... only Olive didn’t have a leg to share the hug. But he didn’t want Graphite to leave either. He trotted right in front of Graphite and looked up, he rested his hooves on whatever room was left of Graphite he could reach; and in his lips, Graphite could see him mouth out a ‘bye.’

Graphite was at the brink of bursting into tears when Olive tried to say bye. He stopped struggling to get the kids off his hooves and looked into Olive’s big, maroon eyes and whispered, “Bye, Olive...”

Mayflower rushed over, trying to get the kids off Graphite, even though she wanted to hug him just as tight as the kids did, “Let Graphite go, kids, he has to go now...”

The kids gave one last squeeze before latching off of Graphite’s legs and be dragged back by Mayflower. They all slowly waddled back with Mayflower, still just as sad as ever. Gumdrops held her hoof out trying to reach for Graphite while Mayflower was busy holding her back. Graphite’s grin molded into a small frown as he left the pharmacy with his bags all packed, and his canteen wiggling with his walk.

With a final wave, the foals of the pharmacy gave Graphite a goodbye and a wish of luck on his way to downtown Buckago. The sun was moving over the skyline, setting on the west side as it always does. The orange coloured sky touched down on the tips of the skyscrapers and as the tops of the buildings seemed to paint the clouds into the bright tangerine atmosphere. Graphite trekked down the streets of Buckago, the street lights were all out of order, so Graphite was taking a hike in the dark.