A Lick of Good Sense

Well, this is one bloody pretty pickle.

Through all the bloody shit I’ve had to deal with these last couple of days, this almost doesn’t surprise me. Almost.  At least I know that it’s coming and a rough estimate of when.

                   Grimjaw’s traitorous mate had left a while ago, and I was almost ready to serve my meal to my “master.” Dishing out the stew, I was actually quite pleased with how it had turned out. The kitchen was surprisingly well stocked, considering.

Not even literally bloody murder is going to stop me from getting out of this hellhole.

oOo

                   Hay was surprisingly comfortable. It’s no feather bed, but after sleeping on the ground for a few days, it seemed a luxury. My newfound owner had deemed my meal “far better” than the gruel they served the other dogs here.

                   I should probably remember that ponies don’t eat meat though. That got a bit awkward for a bit.

                   I was provided with a dry pile of hay to sleep on for the night, and, as per usual, opened the floodgates. I made sure to stay silent, however – incurring the wrath of my “host” didn’t seem like a bright idea. However, after my tears stopped flowing, I was still awake.

                   What was I doing, you ask? Planning.

I’ll have to stick near Grimjaw as much as possible, in order to warn him. Saving his life probably will get me some bonus points from him. I’ll have to be just bloody constantly looking for our assailants; I can read the minds of those near us to see whether or not they’re in on the whole damn shebang. In fact, I should probably see if I can search for others effectively with my mind.

                   Reaching out mentally, I probed the area around me. Just sending myself into open space felt a lot different than going directly into a mind; it felt almost cold, like stepping into a walk-in freezer. I felt two presences above me, one to my right and about twenty feet forward, and a strange signature far away. I say strange as a relative term; the force just felt different from the others around me. And the fact that I could sense it so far away was another interesting thing about it.

                   Reaching out in curiosity, I tried to plunge my mind into it. I seemed to just flow around it, almost rolling along the outer shell. After a few attempts, I tried to simply take a hold of it. Struggling mentally with it, I realized something peculiar; I could move it.

                   I tried pulling it towards me, and, to my surprise, it compressed and shot forwards, rocketing at me. Recoiling in shock, I barely recognized that it had already hit me. Suddenly, I felt something wrap around me, and a weight was placed on me. Pulling myself into the material realm, I turned and looked at me side wildly, searching for the intrusion.

                   Covering my body was my armor, blades and all, perfectly adjusted and snug. I stood up.

That is just so nifty.

                   Walking in a circle and looking over my self, something occurred to me.

If I can put it ON with my mind, can I take it OFF?

                   Feeling for my gear, the sensation now much closer, I tried moving it off of me. It didn’t budge. Frowning, I tried a different approach: I squeezed with my mind. Instantly, I opened my eyes as a sensation similar to that of my shape shifting rushed over my body. I looked to see the leather, steel, and cloth meld into me, becoming one with my flesh.

Wat.

                   A wave of fatigue swept over me, and I wobbled. Stepping over to my makeshift mattress, I plopped down, and was out like a light.

oOo

                   I woke up that morning to a dog standing over me, prodding me with his foot. I groaned, and clumsily got to my feet. Looking up at the canine in question, I grumbled.

                   “What?” My voice was scratchy and hoarse.

                   “Alpha want you to make food. I bring you to kitchen.” I sighed.

                   “Lead the way. This place is a bloody maze, you know.” I scoffed.

                   It didn’t take long to get to the kitchen, where I evaluated my options.

Well, in the show, they ate gems, so I could have a bowl of gems set out in the middle. Seeing as they have flour and eggs, I assume they’ll be able to eat pancakes. I could make some sort of foster for the sauce, seeing as there’s no bloody chance in hell that they’ll have maple syrup.

                   Getting to work with mixing the batter, I almost didn’t notice that the dog was still behind me. I eyed him casually, and he grinned wildly.

                   “What.” I deadpanned. He grinned wider.

                   Shaking my head, I finished the batter and fired up the stove and put some pans on to heat. Searching around, I made a fantastic discovery: fresh strawberries, enough to make foster and have a lot to spare! On top of that, I found a pile of ruby-red gems, and put them in a bowl.

Ooh, this is going to be bloody FANTASTIC!

                   About half an hour later, I had a stack of hot pancakes about a foot high, a pitcher of strawberries foster, a bowl of what I assumed to be rubies, and a set table.

Oh, and a creepy stalker dog still staring at me.

I turned to him. “My master’s meal is ready. Who shall inform him?”

“Pony come with me to Grimjaw now.” The broken English was making him sound dumber than a rock.

“Works for me.” I said.

We walked the corridors until, stopping at the end of one, the dog knocked on a door about three times my current height, and about half that wide. It was reinforced wood, iron bands and studs inlayed into the frame and body. A voice called out from inside.

“Who goes there?” I identified the speaker as my ‘master.’

“It is I, master. You may break your fast now.” I said, reverting to my ye olde timey accent.

I heard steps from inside, and then the door opened to reveal Grimjaw and his mate. I bowed deeply, and then rose.

“Dog, lead the way.” The behemoth gestured, and his packmate obliged.

Entering the kitchen, I watched my captors intensely from the corners of my eyes. I saw a look of confusion on Grimjaw’s face.

“What is this that you have prepared for us, Cloud Runner?” Came the skeptical question.

“Pancakes and strawberries foster, master. It is a dish popular among ponyfolk.” I bowed my head.

Sitting at the table, the two Alphas waited expectantly. I rushed over and served them each a few pancakes, poured some foster on them, and placed two gems on each of their plates. The still unnamed female dog was the first to try my cooking, and seemed pleased as she demolished her first plate. Grimjaw was quick to follow, and I watched them take chunks off of the stack. Grimjaw gestured for me to have a seat myself, and I took a meager portion, minus the gemstones.

Once the stack was completely gone, and the plates were licked almost sparklingly clean, the slave owner in front of me leaned back and burped loudly. We sat in silence a moment before I started to reach out to their minds.

‘I almost regret giving Ironclaw permission to have fun with her. Cooks, cleans, and has good looks. If Silverchase wasn’t so adamant about just being with her, I’d already be all over that.’ I shuddered as I intercepted Grimjaw’s current train of thought.

‘I might just keep this one around. Although killing her would be fun, this cooking is just too good to waste.’ Silverchase pondered.

I’m not sure whose bloody side to be on anymore; the rapist, or the psycho bitch.

“Cloud Runner, go with Ironclaw over there. Take care of his needs.” Grimjaw ordered.

“As you wish.” I bowed.

Dear god no.

I turned and walked over to the doorway, my new master still grinning creepily.

oOo

The walk to his den was uneventful and silent, apart from the ambient noises of labor. It was a decent ways away, and the trip took around 15 minutes. His ‘house’ had a single door on it, covered with a pelt of some animal.

Well, this is it. Either I run now or… Dear bloody fucking cunt Got en Hieml.

Reaching out to his mind, I tried desperately to find anything to help me with the horrible situation I was in.

‘I can’t wait to destroy this-‘ My eyes widened.

Oh fuck – wait, no, don’t fuck me.

I steeled myself as we walked to the ‘door,’ and, as I walked inside, I got prepared to retrieve my weapons. I stepped through before him, and spun on my hooves, I shifted into my ‘natural’ form, and simultaneously, pulled on the presence of my gear. My perspective shifted, and I felt the weight of the arms & armor suddenly on my body. Drawing my swords, I lunged forward in a stab with my right arm.

Ironclaw, oblivious to what I had done, walked straight into my attack, the shard tip piercing the soft tissue protecting his windpipe easily, and stopping against his spinal column. His paws shot to his throat and he gurgled noisily. He stumbled, and my blade slipped out, and I lowered it. Blood spurted from the wound, darkening his thick fur with the thick, crimson liquid.

I was frozen in shock for a moment, staring at my handiwork. Shaking my head, I focused on the task at hand: getting the fuck out of this bloody hellhole. Sheathing my swords, I pulled Ironclaw further into his home, leaving a steady trail of bloody splotches. I found a small closet, and shoved his body into it hastily. Thinking quickly, I shape shifted into an exact copy of the dog before me, albeit uninjured. Steeling myself once again, I set off on my way out of the warren.

oOo

                   Not five minutes into my trip to the surface, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. Not ten feet away, a very familiar pony was cowering next to two dogs, on holding her down while the other was positioned behind her, and was about to force himself onto the pony.

How the hell did Ridge get here?

                   “Dogs! What are you doing? Leave pony with me, you go work now!” I imitated the broken speech of the dogs as much as I could.

                   The two mutts almost leapt out of their skins as they turned to my icy glare. “Now!”

                   They scurried off, leaving the pony in a ball, shaking uncontrollably, staring up at me. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were wet. I softened my glare, and smiled softly.

                   “Please come with me. I’m not going to hurt you.” I said in a softer tone.

                   The purple pegasus scooted backwards, eyes wide with fear. Approaching her slowly, I stopped next to her, her back against a wall. I extended a paw to help her up. Tentatively, she raised her hoof into it, and I pulled her up.

                   I started walking back on the path I was on before, and waved her over to me. She trotted over next to me. In silence, we ascended, cavern by cavern, tunnel by tunnel, until we stepped out, past a group of guards who stood at attention upon seeing me, into the light of day. I saw, a small ways away, the road where I came in, and, past that, Trottingham. I led us down into the forest, and I noticed Ridge start to get twitchy, obviously nervous. I stopped and turned to her, my hands behind my back.

                   “How did you happen to be captured, pony?” I asked the mare.

                   “I- I was looking for a friend. He, uh… he left the city, and I tried to follow him…” She turned her head to the side, and cowered before me.

                   “What was your friend’s name?” I softened my voice.

                   “Ummm… His name’s Prince. We haven’t really known each other for that long, and I did something mean and made him leave, and I was just… Eep!” She squeaked and dropped down onto the ground, hooves over her head, as I reached over to her. I placed my paw on her shoulder.

                   “I forgive you.” I whispered, changing my form to the one she had first seen me in.

                   Ridge looked up, and her eyes went wide as she saw me. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t get words out for a moment, but then spoke, “P-Prince?”

                   “The one and only.”

                   She lunged at me in a hug-tackle, wrapping me in her wings and forelegs. I responded in kind.

                   “It’s Naztharune Rakshasa, by the way.” I whispered.

                    “What?” She looked a little confused.

                   “I’m not a changeling, I’m a Rakshasa.” Releasing my grasp, I stepped back, and shifted to my ‘natural’ form.

                   She looked up at me, eyes going wider. “What the…”

                   I quickly shifted back to pony form, and her gaze followed my eyes back down. “We should get going.”

                   Ridge just nodded, and looked over to where the road was. Taking off, we flew up above the clouds, and on towards Trottingham.

oOo

                   “So you’re telling me that you discovered a plot to dethrone the Alpha,”

                   “Yep.”

                   “Killed one of his betas,”

                   “Mmmhm.”

                   “And not only escaped yourself, but managed to somehow save a member of the guard from sexual abuse and proceed to smuggle the SAME MARE out past the guards, and back here?” The Captain of Trottingham’s guard sat before me behind his desk, rubbing his temples.

                   “Sounds about right.” I said smoothly.

                   “Private Shifter, can you confirm any of this?” He turned to the purple mare.

                   “I can confirm the parts involving me, but the others are still up in the air. But, sir, if it means anything, I believe him.” Ridge said.

                   Turning back to me, the captain frowned. He scanned my face, trying to discern anything from my expression. I kept a still and calm demeanor. He sighed, and spun around in his chair, facing the wall for a moment. When he turned back, he had a look of determination on his face.

                   “If what you two say is true, and the Alpha is being overthrown as we speak, it gives us an opportunity. If I know those dogs, they’ll start infighting to see who’s gonna be the next alpha. In the confusion, we can blindside ‘em, and the bastards won’t know who to fight.” He put his hoof down on the desk hard. “We can get rid of this thorn in our side once and for all.”

                   “Now you’re bloody thinking with portals.” I grinned.

                   He looked confused for a moment, but regained his composure. “You two, go home. Prince, you’ll be compensated, and Ridge, take some time off. Oh, and, where will you be staying, Prince?”

                   “With me.” Ridge said firmly. I looked at her, and she nodded

                   “Alright then. Get outta here, I need to send some letters, and arrange a press conference, and if you two cause me any more stress I’m going to explode.” He turned away, and we exited his office.

oOo

                   It had been two days since our return, and we had gotten news of the success of the raid on Crystal Rim, and I had been bonding with Ridge some more. She was very apologetic about what had happened, and I had reassured her that it was fine, but she still seemed worked up about it. Today, she had given me a few bits to grab some breakfast for the two of us, and, already feeling like I was freeloading, obliged.

                   With a bag of pastries in each saddlebag and a pep in my step, I made my merry way back to Ridge’s place of residence. Climbing the stairs, I reached the appropriate floor, and, stepping out into the hallway, instantly knew something was wrong. I just had this feeling in my gut that something bad was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon. Now, I’m just about as superstitious as the next guy, but I always listen to my gut. It’s never let me down. Putting down my saddlebags gently, I prepared to ‘draw’ my weapons and armor at a moment’s notice.

                   Creeping forward slowly, the thick carpet muffling each step, I approached the entrance to Ridge’s room. It was open just a crack, and within I could hear the sounds of a struggle. Thinking quickly, my eye level dropped down low, my body scaling itself down. I looked just like I had, minus the cutie mark, only smaller. Nudging the door open, I crept inside.

                   The sounds of the struggle grew louder, emanating from one of the two bedrooms. I probed the interior of the room in question, and found four signatures, only one of which I knew: Ridge.

Really? Again?

                   I put on my biggest innocent face, and, following my spur-of-the-moment plan, I opened the door. I internally fumed with rage at the sight of the same red pegasus stallion, accompanied by two ponies, one yellow, one blue, attempting to hold down my friend. Stepping forward as eyes turned to me, I saw a flash of recognition in her eyes.

Clever girl.

                   They all had stopped mid-fight, a tangle of hooves and legs. I hopped up on the bed, and, retaining my look of innocent ignorance, cocked my head and questioned. “Are you three misters playing with my auntie Ridge? If you are, three on one doesn’t seem very fair.”

                   “Uhmm, yeah, we’re playing right now. Your auntie is on her own team because… uh… She’s so good at it! Unless she’s alone, she’d always beat everyone!” The red stallion responded first, shoving his hoof into Ridge’s mouth to stop her from speaking. “But, uhh… no little colts allowed in this game, so…”

                   A few bits flew into the air and then in front of my feet. “Go get some ice cream for yourself! Yeah! Uhhh, we’ll just come get you when we’re done!” He turned back to the task at hand, as well as the other two assailants.

                   “Um, Mr. Blue?” I said, and the blue pegasus turned his head. “Surprise.”

                   I elongated my currently flat teeth into fangs, and, flashing them, lunged at the stallion. A fury overtook me, my mind speeding past logic and reason and straight to rampant bloodlust. I felt my jaws close around his neck, sharp canines sinking into his windpipe. Tearing the bloody hunk of flesh in my mouth off of him and spitting it out in one motion, I ignored the grisly work I had done to the pegasus. Blood squirted from some severed artery and onto my face and into my mouth as I grew to my full size, feathers replaced by leathery skin. I towered over the others, crimson liquid dripping from my maw, I roared.

                   A hook hit me on the cheek, smarting but not doing much damage. Nevertheless, it knocked my head to the side a bit, and I snapped back to attention. I saw the red ringleader of the pegasi cock another hoof back to strike me once more, but I hit faster, snapping his head back in turn. I was blindsided by the yellow one, knocking us both off of the bed, and I yelped in pain as I felt something snap. My side was on fire, and I gritted my teeth. Reverting to instinctual combat tactics, I plunges my teeth into my attacker’s shoulder, and I was rewarded with a scream of pain, and I twisted and ripped until I had savaged him. Spinning, I bucked the disabled pony off of the bed, his head hitting the wall hard as he let out one last groan. His blood smeared a trail down the paint, a gruesome contrast against the eggshell white surface.

                   Once again pushing the pain away, I wheeled around, preparing for the next onslaught of blows. To my surprise, I saw a panting Ridge Shifter standing over the unconscious body of the red stallion, his wing twisted unnaturally, obviously broken. I took a step forward, and tried to speak. As I tried to form words, I coughed, and a spray of blood replaced my articulations. I lowered my head, coughs wracking my body, more and more of the crimson liquid exited my throat. I saw Ridge turn, but I didn’t look up, due to my sudden light headedness.

                   My side was on fire, and the left half of my ribcage was shattered in several places. I shrunk down to my now ‘normal,’ smaller equine form. My legs shook and my vision blurred as I saw the pooling blood spread beneath me, as I swayed side to side. My legs gave out, and I fell onto my uninjured side. Blood dripped out of my mouth, both my own and that of my victims.

                   I was in a state of limbo somewhere between the waking world and the realm of unconsciousness as I was taken from the room, along with three other ponies, to the hospital on stretchers. A unicorn stood over me, her face blurry and unremarkable, and I barely felt the IV on my foreleg. A mask was placed over my snout, and I breathed in the gas coming from it. I saw Ridge watching from the corner of the room, just before I felt the sedatives do their work.

oOo

                   I drifted awake, slowly dragging my mind into gear, my eyes still shut. I laid still for a while, the pain in my side reduced to a dull ache. Slowly, I pried my eyes open, squinting at the harsh artificial lighting of the room. As the world came into focus, I saw that my surroundings appeared to be as white as snow, the sterile, pristine white of a hospital, as that was obviously where I was located. Looking up, I saw an IV and heart rate monitor suspended above my head, the soft *beep* of the devices rhythmical and calming. I raised my head, peering at the side I had hurt in the fight. Gingerly lifting the covers, I saw my midriff wrapped in bandages. I dropped my hoof, a sharp pain in my side causing my entire left side to twinge. I winced hard, and gritted my teeth.

                   “Medico.” I whispered.

                   Instantly, the pain disappeared, and the ache in my side was gone. Experimentally lifting myself up, the pain did not return. I rolled out of the bed, and onto the floor. I carefully pulled the IV out, wincing slightly as the needle slid from underneath my skin. Turning around, I saw I was in a single room, the door wide open, leading into a hallway. Walking out, I looked both ways, and spotted a nurse.

                   “Umm, excuse me?” I called out to her.

                   She looked over to me, and, stopping what she was doing, ran over to me. “Sir, you shouldn’t be out of bed! You are in no condition to be doing anything, at the moment!”

                   “I swear I’m alright. My side’s all healed; I just need to know how the mare that came in with me is doing.” I reassured the teal-colored mare.

                   “That’s not possible, Mr. Prince, our left lung was punctured in three different places, and you had five broken ribs, and three more fractured! Now, you need to get back in bed right now!” Her expression was one of concern, and, although appreciated, was not what I was looking for.

                   “I have to know if she’s alright! Her name is Ridge Shifter! She most likely came in with me.” I was getting frustrated.

                   “Mrs. Shifter was released from the hospital two days ago, and has visited you twice a day. Now, please get back in bed!” She was reaching the same point as me.

                   Instead of responding verbally, I just ripped off the bandages on my side, exposing some stiches surrounded by fur, barely visible. A few faint scars showed as well. I prodded it a couple of times for added effect, showing that there was no pain or give. I looked back up at the nurse.

                   “See?” I looked intently at her. “Now, can I get out of this place?”

oOo

                   A bit of paperwork and some doctor’s insistent instructions later, I was admitted out of the hospital, and I had started finding my way to Ridge’s place, when I was stopped by a lightly armored guard stallion.

                   “Are you Mr.Prince?” He stared coolly at me.

                   “That would be me, officer. Does there seem to be a problem?” I held my composure, wanting to make a good impression.

                   “You’re wanted for questioning at the station. I’m going to have to ask you to follow me.”  His firm tone held authority.

                   “I don’t want any bloody trouble, man. Just lead the way.” The unnamed guard led me a few blocks away from my original position, and into the so-called ‘station.’ Walking past other guards, in uniform and out, we headed down a hallway. The guard opened a door for me, and I noticed a plaque on the wall next to it.

Head Investigator Sharp Thought. Well, I can’t say this wasn’t expected.

                   Walking into the room, I noticed two things; one: the door had shut behind me, and two: it was dark. The only light was from a small lamp on the lone desk in the middle of the room. Illuminated in were two chairs, one on either side of the desk. The one further from me was turned around so that I could only see a little sliver of the pony that sat in it.

Well, this can’t get any more bloody cliché.

                   “Take a seat.” A voice called from behind the desk.

                   I obliged, and the pony spun the chair around slowly, finally coming into view. He was a light blue, almost grey stallion with a grey mane. I couldn’t discern any other details partially because of the lighting, and partially because he wore a trench coat.

I guess I just bloody lied, then.

                   Resting his elbows on the table, he put his chin in his hooves and stared intently at me. I held a straight face, despite being tempted to laugh at the absurdity of what was happening. We stared at each other for a moment before he finally spoke.

                   Pulling out a manila folder, he pushed it towards me and opened it. “Three days ago, Mrs. Shifter was in her home when three stallions broke in. They assaulted her, and were allegedly preparing to rape her. A week or so before that, one of the three tried to do the same on their own. In both incidents, things have been out of place. Either lack of concrete evidence, evidence that forensic experts can’t make head nor tail of. Now, through some piecing together, I’ve found that there is one thing that connects these…” He splayed out a few pictures of the most recent crime scene. “…to this.” He pulled out a scrap of newspaper titled Local Guard Sexually Assaulted in Own Home. “And, Mr. Prince, that thing happens to be sitting in front of me. According to the witness, you’ve been staying with her, but declined to answer on whether or not you were there at either incident.”

                   Sweeping away the pictures in front of me, he pushed a new set forward. It was the bite pattern of something that I realized was probably mine. Next to it, a different picture, albeit bigger, depicted the same thing.

                   “Now, at first glance, this might look something like a hydra attack, seeing as this pattern” He pointed at one of the two. “Is smaller than this one,” he moved his hoof to point at the one next to it. “But are clearly the same layout. Some hydras are known to have central, larger heads, while having several smaller ones on either side. With closer examination, however, one can discover that this isn’t the bite pattern of any known breed of carnivore, hydra or not. Further than that, and you might find that this” he pushed an x-ray of a lower jaw. “has an almost identical layout of teeth as the other two.”

                   He held up the x-ray. “I got a copy of this at my last appointment to the dentist.”

                   He paused for a while, boring into my eyes with his own, as if trying to read my mind. Once again exchanging the foremost images for another set, he pulled out the remaining contents of the folder. This time, they were drawings, probably police sketches from what I could see. The pony depicted was my monstrous alter ego, bat wings and all. In one of them, it showed in detail a set of fangs. To be honest, it looked kind of like a shitty OC.

                   “This was what the two surviving attackers described as what stopped them. This is what is referred to, by most ponies, as a vampony. The stallion who conducted the first assault also mentioned that it was the same creature that stopped him then.” His gaze never wavered.

Let’s take a look in your bloody head; I don’t want a stake through my heart if I can’t help it.

‘Garlic’s in the middle drawer on the right, to left is the stake, and past that is the water blessed by Celestia. Start off with garlic, if that doesn’t work, the water, then, if all else fails, the stake. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to any of that, and that I’m wrong about this.’

Well, let’s play this cool.

                   “By process of deduction, you are… although I hate to say it, an actual vampony, and, for some reason, have decided to protect this mare.” He spoke more reluctantly, and I saw him tense up.

That’s… Actually a good cover story. I’m a vampony, trying to atone for the acts I performed because of bloodlust. Mysterious, and kind of believable. If I ask everyone to call me Prince as a name, he’ll assume that’s what I am – a vampire prince – so I’ll need a name. And… I could call myself Beleren. Prince Jace Beleren. Mill always my favorite deck type.

                   I realized we had been staring at each other for quite a while, not saying a word. I decided it was time for a dramatic reveal.

                   I purposely tried to slow the change down, drawing it out to show off the transition. When I was done, my eye level was far above his. I looked down. As our eyes met, I saw a spark of fear, and then one of determination. I saw him tense even more, preparing to use what ‘weapons’ he had hid inside of the desk.

                   As I saw him about to spring into motion, I spoke, cutting him off. “Although strong, I do enjoy the taste and smell of it. The water on the opposite side of the stick might as well have come from a tap. The stick itself… driving a sharp object into just about anything’s heart will kill it. You could kill me more easily with some sort lance or spear. I suppose loss of blood would bring about my death as well. In fact, most conceivable ways of dying for you are applicable to me. However, I would greatly appreciate it if you would not end my life just yet. Maybe dinner and a date first.”

                   His hooves dropped from the drawer as I said this and he looked warily at me. “Well, this is certainly a surprise.”

                   I dropped the act, and smiled widely at this, being careful to not show too much teeth. “Formal name’s Prince Jace Beleren of the house Dimir, but I just go by Prince or Jace. Nice to bloody meet you.”

                   I extended a hoof, and we shook. “Just call me Sharp, Mr- err… Jace, everypony dose. Nice to make your acquaintance. I’m going to have to decline on your offer though, I’m not sure what you would call ‘dinner’ would be particularly appetizing to me. Also, I’m married.”

Everything went better than expected.