A Lick of Good Sense

               “Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

                   Skimmer’s eyes sharpened, and his stance tightened. He lifted his blade.

                   “It’s been a while since ah’ve seen hair ‘r hide of another human. It’s a shame, yah might’ve made ah good companion.” He swung his blade at my head.

                   Yelping, I ducked, almost sure he had given me an impromptu haircut.

                   “What the hell-“ I yelled.

 The weapon completed its arc, and came back for more. Throwing myself towards the street, I barely dodged his second strike. Shifting back to my previous equine form, I bolted for the open road. I heard him call out in rage as my hooves clattered against the stone, pushing me further away from him, dilapidated posters and trash mere blurs next to me.

                   “You’d be’er run, boy! T’ain’t nothin going ta come in between me and that wish!”

What the ACTUAL BLOODY FUCK just happened?

                   I heard a flap of wings, and a quick look behind me confirmed that he was now in aerial pursuit. I pressed harder. My hooves thundered against the stones, but I knew he was gaining. Ponies screamed and jumped out of the way, and I rushed past banners and stalls, now in a small market. A box of oranges tipped over, and I jumped over the obstacle. With his flight, he didn’t have to dodge around everypony, giving him further advantage. I saw a few guards on the far side, and began to move towards them. The change in course gave the Scottish hybrid more lead, and I gritted my teeth in pain and groaned as his talons raked my flank. I saw the guards race forward, spears at the ready. Glancing back, I saw Skimmer fall back slightly as he drew his axe, giving me a wild idea.

                   I planted my forelegs firmly on the ground in front of me, coming to a jolting stop. Placing my weight forward, I raised my hindquarters and pulled my legs back, cocking them in position. As my pursuer neared, a flash of recognition shot through his eyes, and he tried to slow down. It was too late.

                   My hind legs shot out in a powerful buck, my entire bodyweight moving into the strike. My hooves connected solidly with Skimmer’s feathered chest, his momentum playing against him as I heard his ribcage crack and snap in several places. The impact sent a jolt of pain along my hind legs, but I escaped without any damage to myself. I slid forward, my hooves loosing purchase for a moment on the rough ground.

                   He flew backwards a few feet, his weapon spinning off and clattering to the side. An audible *thud* could be heard as he touched down, all six limbs sprawled haphazardly. Blood sprayed from his open beak. I panted heavily, my flanks stinging as blood seeped down them, obscuring my false cutie mark. I turned my head away from him for a moment as I heard hoofsteps coming from behind me. The guards I had seen earlier now stood just behind me armed with spears. They wore the same gear as the ones at the gate.

                   “You alright? What was his problem?!” One of the officers called to me. I stared blankly at him and shook my head.

                    “No idea.” I wheezed, still out of breath.

                   “Well, I know one thing; the featherhead’s about to get his ass handed to him by the warden. He might even hang. Serves him right for attacking a pony!” A second one called out.

                   “The hospital’s just up that way.” The first guard nodded his head to the right. “Head on up, and tell ‘em Right Hoof sent you. They’ll patch you up.”

                   “Thanks a l-“ I was cut off by a gruff voice.

                   “Medico!” Came the wheeze, and my head snapped around. Skimmer coughed up some more blood, and rose to his claws. I winced and recoiled as I heard a squelch of flesh, and I realized that it was his ribs moving back into place.

                   “So, ya think you can put the likes o’ me down with just the one kick, eh? Now yah’ve just gotten me angry!” He declared, reaching for his weapon.

                   I stared in disbelief.

Magic? How can a GRIFFON do magic?

                   Looking back at my flanks, I spoke in a firm tone.

                   “Medico.”

                   I felt the cuts seal themselves, and the pain ended almost immediately. I grinned.

I guess two can play at that game.

                   Looking back to Skimmer, I saw he had retrieved his axe. Thinking quickly I drew my own swords from their sheathes. My wings seemed to grasp them almost like hands, and it felt natural.

                   My opponent charged, using his wings to propel himself. I saw flashes of light glint off of the guards’ spears as they pointed at the mad griffon. My mind slipped away as the alien instincts washed over me, and I lurched forward. As Skimmer swung his blade, I redirected it with one of my own, and brought the other in a wide and powerful arc. The haft of his massive battleaxe was cut clean through the sharp metal of my sword, and I saw his eyes go wide.

                   “That’s bloody Zebrican enchanted wood! Yer gonna PAY fer that!” He screamed, narrowing his gaze

                   He body slammed me, and my weapons went flying, clattering onto the stone, out of reach. I fell flat on my back, his talons pinning my forelegs down. He lifted one up, and cocked it back, preparing for the final blow.

                   A blur flew towards his chest, and a sickening *thunk* was heard as six inches of cold steel and hardened wood penetrated his ribcage. Once again, the griffon’s eyes grew wide, and he looked at his new wound in surprise. The section of his wound around the haft of the spear was stained red with his blood. His beak opened in an attempt to for words, but no sound came out. Air was let out of my lungs as he crashed onto my chest, his now-limp body cascading around me.

                   Grunting in exertion, I rolled him off of me, and scrambled to my hooves. I froze as I saw what was on the ground in front of me.

                   It took me a moment to realize that I had almost died. And, on top of that, living, breathing, thinking person had a hunk of metal and wood shoved into his chest cavity. With me six inches away.

                   I felt queasy and lightheaded, and I began to sway from side to side. I stumbled, barely regaining my footing. I watched the blood run down the once pristine white front of Skimmer, and onto the ground, a small puddle of the crimson liquid forming.

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod

                   I threw up what little was in my stomach.

In my moment of shock, I hadn’t notice the pony next to me. A light purple wing stretched over my back, and brushed against my own. I looked up, tears in my eyes. The guard who hadn’t spoken to me earlier looked at me, their face expressing concern.

                   “You okay, bud? You don’t look too good.” The voice was definitely a mare’s, and a quick look at her confirmed the thought.

                   “N-not really.” I whispered. “I just got a little too intimate with a dead person for my liking.”

                   “It doesn’t really get easier, you know. You just get better at hiding it.” She spoke, still holding a comforting wing over me. “Anyways, you’re obviously not from around here. Tell you what; if you need a place to crash you can stay at my place. My roommate won’t mind, and you can sleep on the couch.”

                   I was astounded on the generosity of the pony. Was she really just going to let me stay at her place, just like that? Without knowing who I am?

I think I’ve found a friend here. Or, she’s doing this for herself. I don’t think so, though. Does she seem like the type? Not really.

                   I begrudgingly nodded my head, and, wiping my muzzle clean with a foreleg, spoke softly. “Thanks.”

                   “No problem. Well, let’s get going. The complex is on the other side of town.” She replied. I retrieved my gear, and, turning to look at Skimmer one last time, began following her.

oOo

                   We had arrived about fifteen minutes ago at a large apartment complex, and entered her room on the third floor. It wasn’t spacious, but was still bigger than my tiny flat. In the small kitchen, which also served as a dining room, we were eating some sandwiches and hayfries we had picked up on the way.

                   Pony food was actually pretty decent; hayfries were excellent, although far inferior the real thing. Seriously, all I’m saying is that French fries are an ART.

                   “So, seeing as we haven’t really introduced ourselves, I’ll start. Hi, my name’s Ridge Shifter. Nice to meet you.” She put down her meal, and extended a hoof.

                   I responded in kind, and shook her hoof. “Prince, nice to bloody meet you.”

                   We paused in silence for about a minute.

                   “Prince?” She asked.

                   “Yeah?” I said.

                   “You alright?” Came the most frequently asked question of the day.

                   “Yes, I think I am now. I- I just want to thank you for helping me out. It means a lot.” I responded, avoiding eye contact.

                   “Well, good. Stuff like today doesn’t happen to too many ponies, so I understand what you’re going through. Is the food good?” She gestured to my almost empty plate with a free hoof.

                   “Yeah, ‘s really good. I mostly make my own food, but sometimes me and my mates ’ll go out for drinks and a bite. I like the hayfries.” I said, absently eating more of the dish.

                   “Yeah, I like that place. Their soup is also pretty good, you sh-“ her voice was cut off by a loud knock on the door. “Hold on a moment, Prince. Let me get that real quick.”

                   Trotting around the corner and out of sight, I heard the deadbolt slide and unlock, and the creaking of the door as it opened. “Hello? Oh, it’s you. I thought I told you to get lost.”

                   I heard the door moving back, but the then I heard something obstruct its path.

                   “Aww, Shifty, doncha wanna have fun with me? Well, you don’t have to answer that. I already know the answer. I’ll give you what you want, you little slut.”

                   I heard a scuffle, and the door slammed. The struggle went on, and I heard grunts from both Ridge and the unknown assailant. I stood still paralyzed.

                   “Get your hooves off of me!” I heard her yell.

                   I hid behind the wall as I saw the two start to come into view. My quick glance showed a large, red Pegasus stallion restraining Ridge, who was struggling against the bigger pony’s might to no avail. I peeked around the corner.

                   A hoof smacked across his face, and his head snapped to the side. Looking back at the helpless mare, he growled. “You’re going to pay for that. It’s best if you stop struggling, little birdy. I’m going to make you sing either way.

                   Now, to clarify; when Skimmer attacked me, I was in full-on flight mode, and was acting on instinct. I was scared, which clouded my thought processes. Now, watching this stallion trying to take advantage of my newfound friend, I wasn’t scared. Not one bit.

                   I was furious.

                   My gaze lifted with the rest of my body, my legs growing longer, my chest wider, my coat darkening. I turned my eyes a crimson red with a tiny pinprick of a pupil. My teeth elongated and tapered into fangs, and I bared them. The feathers on my wings receded, being replaced by larger versions of the ones the night guards possess.  I let out a deep growl, wind blowing between my canines. I flared out my membranous wings, and stepped through the doorway, and to the struggling ponies.

                   “You better bloody let her go RIGHT NOW, or I will rip your throat from neck and your heart from your chest!” I hollered.

                   “Oh, wouldja looky here, looks like the skank found a replacement for-“ He turned, stopped mid-sentence when he saw my figure. I towered over him, taller even than Celestia.

                   I hit him with a hooked forehoof strike to the left side of his face, knocking him off of Ridge. Snarling, I pounced on him, pinning him much as Skimmer had. I hissed through my maw of jagged teeth, drool dribbling from my chin. The look of sheer terror on his face gave me a sickening amount of pleasure, and, as I stood over him, I heard him release the contents of his bladder.

                   Rearing up, I sent both of my front hooves into his head, knocking him out like a like a light, and most likely providing with a grade-A concussion. I panted, stepped off of his still body, and shifted back to my previous guise. Spinning on my heels, I addressed Ridge.

                   “Did he hurt you?” I say, anger in my eyes. Looking back at me, Ridge just shook her head, her jaw almost hitting the floor. Noticing her wide-eyed stare, I asked her, “You okay?”

                   “WHAT THE BUCK WAS THAT… THAT THING!” She screamed.

                   “Me.” I said, wincing at the shriek. “Paying you back.”

                   “What the buck???” She yelled, slightly lowering the volume.

                   “Got that already.” I deadpanned.

                   “You turned into that thing!” she yelled, raising her voice a little.

                   “Yes, I did.” I replied.

                   “Are you a bucking Changeling? What the buck? How can you do that?” She screamed louder.

                   “No I’m not. Please stop yelling in my ears, you’re giving me a bloody headache!” I began to grow angry.

                   “Get the buck out of my house! Just… Leave! I don’t want to see you again, you bucking freak!” The last comment stopped me in my tracks. I froze up.

                   “Well… Bye, I guess. See you around, or not, I guess.”  I lowered my head, hiding my eyes with my mane, and walked out the door.

                   “And stay out!” I heard the door slam behind me.

                   I sprinted down the hall, tears streaking my cheeks with lines of wetness. I clattered down the stairs, almost tripping. Bursting onto the street, I looked around. It was dark now, and nopony was outside. I looked to my right, and saw a back alley. It was a small, dark deal, and didn’t look particularly inviting. Disregarding that, I cantered into it. A few empty boxes were the only decoration in the bleak alleyway, and there wasn’t even a rat in sight. Dropping down behind one of the larger boxes towards the end of the path, I sobbed heavily.

God fucking bloody damn it shit prick cunt FUCK! I can’t go fucking home, I’m never going to see my girlfriend or family again, I have no friends here, no home, a few bits to my name, and I can’t go five minutes without getting into a fight today! Why the fuck did this have to fucking happen to me? WHY?

                   My chest heaved as my cries shook my whole body, pressing me into the cold ground. That was how I went to sleep: depressed, homeless, and in a puddle of tears.

oOo

                   Some people tell you how their bead head is awful. Let me tell you this:

                   Bedhead ain’t shit compared to alley-mane.

                   Staring in a pool of water next to a drain, I saw that I looked horrible. My hair was all askew, my eyes were bloodshot, I had bags under my eyes, and my cheeks were stained with tears.

                   A quick transformation later, and I was as back to normal as an orderly-looking male Pegasus would be for me. Looking into the pool, I realized I had never tried to fly; I guess it didn’t cross my mind.

If I became a unicorn, could I use magic?

                   I felt my wings on my back, and all the joints and muscles. Extending them, I brought both wings out and up. I angled them slightly, and, concentrating on synchronizing them, I began to flap them. Knowing how a bird flies, I used a circular motion, and folded my wings slightly as I pulled them up. The movement didn’t feel unnatural; in fact, it felt very not unnatural in almost every way.

                   I was focusing so much that I almost didn’t realize I was hovering five feet above the ground, and rising slowly. The sudden sense of vertigo that came upon me when I looked down almost sent me tumbling groundwards, but caught myself. Pumping my wings harder, I shot up higher. Holding my vertical position, I started to adjust my wings’ movements, and started to test out moving back and forth, side to side, and diagonally. The motions seemed natural, almost familiar, exactly like when I used my swords without any prior knowledge of how to handle a blade. Did it have something to do with how I got here? Definitely. Did I know exactly why? Not at all.

                   Clumsily flying up and landing on a roof, I concentrated. The still-strange sensation of shifting flowed through me as I retracted my wings into my body, and felt and saw a horn protrude from my head. Shutting my eyes and concentrating, I tried to feel something – anything – in my horn. It felt like any other body part. I tried the cliché approach of imagining a flame, and then a source of light, and just plain focusing on my horn.

                   Nothing worked.

Well, that sucks. The only magic I know now is that one word. I don’t even SPEAK Latin, so there’s not much I can do with that. Although, I’m excited for flying. The next order of business would be… Food & shelter. I don’t want to sleep like last night again, if it can be avoided. This city doesn’t really seem too good of an option now, seeing as that asshole probably told them to be on the lookout for me. Speaking of which, I should probably get a new disguise. I can’t go as Prince anymore – too memorable. How about… Cloud Runner, a Pegasus from Las Pegasus, trying to get away from the bad living conditions and the death of my parents. I’ve been away from home for two years, and work as… Hmm, I’ll think of that later.

                   Shifting my form to a sky blue pegasus with a lighter blue mane with a white streak running through it, a pair of wings as a cutie mark, I flew down to the road. I started trotting along. I needed a map.

oOo

After locating a map of Equestria in a small store on the corner of a street near the apartments, I pondered my next destination.

Canterlot’s too expensive and far away, Wethoof is in the middle of bloody nowhere, my alibi clashes with Las Pegasus, Ponyville is probably were all the other humans are flocking to – probably to find and drool over Fluttershy – Manehatten seems viable, New Yoke as well, Braeburn annoys the shit out of me, and finally… Nahh, let’s just go with Manehatten.

                   I replaced the map, and walked out of the shop. I had located the train station before, but there didn’t seem to be any tickets cheap enough for me to buy, so I would have to hoof it – which was why Canterlot was too far – all the way to my destination. I had also bought a few canteens of water, some bread and cheese, and a pair of old, worn saddlebags to carry it all. I was practically out of bits, so it would have to last.

                   I arrived at the gates and exited on the road towards Manehatten, hoping to hitch a ride on another cart. Unfortunately, the road didn’t seem that busy. Setting on down the road, the sun was high in the sky. I kept an even pace, eventually stopping for a small meal of a slice of bread and a small piece of cheese. When the sun began to set, Trottingham was far behind me.

                   The long walk had given me ample time to think and experiment with different things – moving whilst changing shapes, I quickly learned, was much more difficult. It strained the concentration much more, and it forced me to almost stop when I tried it. I came to the conclusion that It would probably be something that I should practice – in this strange version of Equestria, it wasn’t all fun and games.

                   I moved off to the side of the road, preparing for a cold night’s sleep. That was when I heard something behind me, and smelled something that sent me off to dreamland.

oOo

The first thing I noticed was the smell. It wasn’t a pleasant one; I can inform you of that. It was the smell of decay and sweat, rank and sour. It filled my nostrils, and, wrinkling my nose, I began to open my eyes. In front of me was a chain, and looking down, it was attacked to a collar around my neck, and in turn to shackles around my hooves. Gazing around, I found myself connected to a group of ponies, griffons, and diamond dogs.

“I say get up, Pony!” I heard, the voice coming from the dog in front of me, who proceeded to kick me in my stomach. “Pony get up or pony dies!”

I scrambled to my hooves, and looked around with wide eyes. I stood in a cavern filled with dogs, unchained and not, and the group I was roped with.

Glaring at me fiercely, the dog walked away, towards a raised wooden platform, were several dogs stood. In the center, one stood out from the rest, both figuratively and literally. The massive dog stood at least 6’7” and had more muscle than should be healthy, and wore little in the way of clothing or armor. On his back, a massive warhammer hung on his back, the polished head gleaming in the gemlight. On his head and shoulders, colorful beads and strings hung from skulls. The bones themselves were clearly identifiable:

They were that of a dragon.

What the bloody hell? How did I get… Oh… Yeah… Pausing for a moment, I assessed the situation. I need to be more of a face in the crowd. If I’m getting out of this alive, I need to look as unchallenging as possible to the wardens so they don’t take anything I do as defiance. So…

I shifted my form so that I was a mare instead of a stallion.

Better. But, this kind of cutie mark will draw attention – I don’t want it to look like I’m a fast flier. I’m a bloody good cook, so I’ll have a mark like that… How about… A chef’s knife crossed against a spoon.

The tall dog walked forward as I changed the last detail on my improved body, surveying the crowd. He opened his maw, revealing gleaming white fangs, and spoke.

“These are the rules of Crystal Rim; Slaves follow orders, slaves do not speak unless spoken to, slaves do not attempt escape, and slaves will only eat if they work. I, Grimjaw, am your master. You will bow before me.” His boomed, and his voice echoed across the chamber.

I saw other captives looking around hesitantly, not sure whether or not to follow the order.

He’s got me us the neck here. Best do as he bloody says.

I bowed deeply, head almost touching the ground. Opening my eyes a crack, I saw that not a single one of my fellow slaves had done the same. They all still stood, some looking defiant, some looking at me with angry glares.

“You! You there!” I heard Grimjaw call out. I looked up to see him pointing at me. “Come up here. Guards, release him.”

Two ugly-looking dogs approached me, and unhooked me from the others, but left on most of my restraints. The dogs led me up the steps to the stage, and stood me before the Alpha. I bowed once again, even deeper this time.

“Rise, pony. Tell me, what is your name?” The monstrous hound spoke.

“Cloud Runner, Master.” I said, keeping my tone even and respectful, as I rose to look at him. I refrained from eye contact, as not to offend the slave driver who held my life in his hands.

“So, ‘Cloud Runner,’ look into my eyes, and tell me this; why did you bow?” He queried.

He’s trying to make an example of me. Hopefully, it doesn’t end with me in a bloody mess.

Looking into his eyes, I said firmly, “Because you ordered me to, Master.”

Looking out at the other slaves, he turned from me. Surveying them for a moment, he let out a rumbling laugh. It seemed a mad cackle, sinister instead of jovial.

“’Because you ordered me to!’” He addressed the crowd, still laughing. He stopped a moment later. “Cloud Runner here is going to go places around here. You follow the rules, and you might get rewarded. You don’t, and your life becomes more like living Tartarus. I told you all to kneel, and only he did.”

He gazed around, and it was one of cold malice. I shivered slightly.

“If you don’t follow the rules, bad things happened. And none of you followed the rules. I will leave you with the guards. They will teach you respect.” His speech seemed even icier than his glare.

“You.” He said, lowering his voice. “With me.” He took off down the stairs and towards one of the many tunnels. “Unshackle her hooves.”

A dog rushed forward, and roughly unlocked and pulled off my restraints. They chafed against me, the feeling of rubbing against their rust putting a grimace on my face. Fortunately, it was only a brief discomfort. I hurried down the stairs and after Grimjaw, lengthening my stride so as to keep up with him. As we entered one of the smaller passages, he began to speak to me in an uncannily non-threatening manner.

“In all my years of running this den, in every group of slaves, you are the first to immediately do as I say, without question. Why? Why would you submit so freely?” His question took me only a little off-guard.

“My master, I have no other purpose. No family, no friends, no obligations. In your glorious generosity, you have given me purpose; I will serve you as best I can, for it is all I can do.” I quickly thought of how to phrase my next words, for they would be crucial in my relations with this behemoth. If he took me to be buttering him up, he would kill me. “I haven’t slept indoors for the past year. I have been shunned by my kin, to the point of which I no longer feel as if we are of the same breed. No, master, I do not submit. There never was any thought of resistance.”

He seemed to be deep in thought, our conversation put on a hiatus. We crossed a few other caverns, many filled with slaves mining away, presumably for gems. Dogs and slaves alike paused to bow for their Alpha. When we reached what seemed to be a residential district, he led me into what seemed to be the largest home, presumably his abode. We continued down a hallway.

This bloody act is a bitch to keep up. I’d better practice.

“If you wish to serve me as you say, how can you best do so? What are you good at, slave?” He stopped, turning to me. I responded in kind, and gazed evenly into his eyes.

“My mark shows my proficiency in the culinary arts, but also the art of the blade, hence the knife depicted. Unfortunately, master, your other disciples have taken my weapons. They are of a make and quality comparable to your greathammer. If it pleases you, my master, I can perform for you.” I responded.

Why did I have to start talking like some bloody knight of the Round Table, for Christ’s sakes! This is the most annoying thing I’ve ever had to do – well, scratch that. Definitely not theworst, but pretty damned close.

“If cooking is your talent, cooking is what you shall do. If you do well I will have you cook all of my meals. ‘Your blades,’ as you call them, will be located. I will decide if and when you may get them, depending on your loyalty. For now, you will prepare my dinner; the kitchen is in the room at the end of the hall on the right. One of my mates will be there, most likely; have her help you. I have other matters to attend to.” He turned and walked into a doorway, and looked over his shoulder. “If you even think of leaving, your death will be swift.”

I bowed my head, and trotted to the kitchen. It was a fairly large one, fully equipped as well – there was a pony-made stove and oven, many high quality pots and pans, a knife rack, and what looked to be a refrigerator situated next to a stocked pantry. At a small table set sat a female diamond dog, her luxurious white coat gleaming in the soft light. Upon seeing her, I bowed deeply.

Here we go again.

“I am honored to be in the presence of my master’s mate. Your beauty is truly unbound in comparison to others of your breed.” I raised my head. “My master, the mighty Grimjaw, has tasked me with crafting a meal fit for him, and bids you to help me, my lady.”

The dog grinned, showing teeth, and let out a giggle. “Where’d Grim find you? I’ve never met a suck up so big in my life! ‘Oh, master, it is such an honor to be your slave,’ ha! Quit the act, princess, or I’ll serve YOU for ole’ grim.”

“It is no act. My master has given me new purpose in my life, and his wish is my command. If you wish, I could refer to you by another name, my lady.” I said quickly.

She huffed. “You’re serious. You’re actually buckin’ serious. Why do I always have to be with the crazy ones?” She sighed. “In any case we should get to work. My mate does not enjoy waiting.”

I bowed my head once again, and stood up fully.

At least she’s not going to eat me. Eh, I’ve had worse roommates, honestly. I can deal with her.

“I would suggest a hearty stew of beef and potatoes, and perhaps a few more ingredients. It was popular with the meat-eaters I used to cook for, and I hope it will please both my master and my mistress.” I offered.

“And she cooks with meat. This pony’s getting weirder by the moment…” she grumbled. “Yeah, that sounds good. Hop to it.”

I began to search for the ingredients, and put a pot of water to boil on the stove. As I worked, Grimjaw’s mate watched. As I began to cut carrots, she walked over and hopped up on the counter, swinging her legs back and forth.

“Sooo… Watcha doin’?” She asked.

“Preparing my masters meal, my mistress.” I said, not pausing, making a growing pile of carrot slices.

“Why do you talk like that? It makes you sound a thousand years old.” I put the carrots in the pot, and started on the potatoes.

“Would you prefer I simulate a dialect of another variety?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” She scratched her head.

She really isn’t the brightest, is she? Well, at least now I can talk normally.

“So, how ya doin, mistress? Anything troubling you?” I said, slipping back into my regular accent.

“Well, Garjaw’s been away more, so I haven’t seen as much of him as I’d like.”

That is LITERALLY what she said.

“But, that means I don’t have to do much besides hang out. Anyways, it’s a little weird being with him; he’s a lot older than I am. He’s like, 28, and I’m just 21.” She continued, oblivious to my mental processes.

Might as well get some mind-reading practice in.

‘Well, Garjaw’s got himself a new fuck-toy, I bet. I almost feel sorry for her. Well, I’ll have fun killing both of them tomorrow. Playing the stupid bitch is frustrating.’ I almost sliced a chunk of my foreleg off as I ‘heard’ what she thought.

DAFUQ?

Trying my best to keep acting normal, I finished off the potatoes and responded to her comment. “Would you want any advice, mistress?”

“Sure.” She shrugged.

“The advice most dogs or ponies would give you is to think things through, not to overreact, and not to rush. I, however, would tell you to jump in headfirst. Take some bloody risks. Your relationship might not be as stable, but when it is, it’ll be better than you can imagine.” I turned to her. “Well, except if you’re thinking about murder or something; that doesn’t usually end well.” I added.

She said nothing, but I saw a flash of recognition on her face. I turned back to my work.

Well, this is one bloody pretty pickle.