Peter Williams

After a flurry of half-kicks and shoves, I finally removed the human from me. He was quick and efficient for an emaciated little prick. I quickly rose to my feet, getting into my best fighting stance. I was suddenly reminded of my confrontation with the wild humans of the Everfree Forest. If this guy fought like they did, I'd have to be quick and prepared. My opposition took wild swings at me, which I did my best to block and avoid, while lashing out when I could. I had to focus on punches, since my ankle weakened my kicks too much to be of use.

I had to dodge left and right before I finally saw my opening. I let the human's arms come across me as I dodged, then applied a textbook arm bar take down. There was a problem though. My ankle once again betrayed me, and as I forced the human down, I felt immense pain flare up from it as I turned. I let my grip loosen for just a moment in surprise, but that was all it took. My opponent lurched out of my grasp and used the ground as a brace for a powerful kick.

I don't know if plexiglass just hasn't been invented yet, or the store owner wanted an old, traditional feel, but as I flew backwards into a shop window, the thing shattered, multiplying my already numerous wounds. I lied there for a few moments. This guy. This unelevated troglodyte. First he hauls out and attacks me for holding a God Damned cupcake. And now he has kicked me into a window. I felt the moment when my rationality snapped. I was trapped in a fluffy world of magical ponies that have unintelligent humans as slaves/pets, have been chased by creatures of myth, forced to find a way to prove my very right to dignity, and now some stupid, lower life form TROGLODYTE is kicking my ass! I served in the U.S. Marine Corps! Granted it was a desk job, but I learned how to kill a man with some bailing wire and my pinkie! Became a capable weapon of war! I went to college! Got classes in philosophy and culture, learned what it was to be free and human.

I was better than him. I WAS BETTER THAN HIM! And I would not let him win this stupid little bout about a cupcake!

My hands searched around me as I felt my surroundings, careful of the glass shards lying about. I felt my fingers wrap around a handle. Looking at it, I felt the warmth of blood lust rise in me. I rose carefully, knocking as much latent glass from my frame as I could without causing injury. My precious shirt and pants were now ruined, covered in blood stains and holes. My shoes, however, were still in fine condition as I lept out from the store at the bastard, newly acquired hatchet held high.. He had apparently lost interest in me and was stalking toward Derpy and her entourage. The noise of my exit cause him to notice me, to which he roared again and swung.

Instead of dodging like I had before, I swung the hatchet round to strike his arm on the handle. I felt a small thrill when I heard the crack of bone and his howl of pain. I followed up my strike with a reverse strike against his temple, using the hammer side of the weapon. This blow knocked him to the ground, grunting as he tumbled away. He sat up in a dazed confusion until he saw me stalking up to him. He tried to crawl away from me, but I put a stop to that by giving him a swift kick in the approximate area his kidney would be. He rolled over onto his back and I quickly straddled him, placing my knees onto his arms to prevent movement.

I had him right where I wanted him. This troglodyte who attacked me, hurt me, and tried to hurt my friends, would finally get his. I gripped his throat and raised my hatchet high.

I hesitated.

While I never saw battle in the Corps, I often heard the men who were effected most by combat were the ones who got closest to their enemies. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and that there are few more intimate experiences than looking into your enemy's eyes before you kill them. You get to know them. Their life flashed before their eyes and you get drug along for the ride. And there, atop the supposedly unintelligent troglodyte, I saw life. Fear. Locked away behind some invisible wall, trapped, was something that resembled all the wants and desires of a living rational being. In my bloodlust, I had almost missed it, but there it was. I brought my hatchet down with force.

I rose shakily. I felt the exhaustion of the day fill me. And the blood loss. I slowly walked back to Derpy, who waited with her friend, both with horrified faces. I stood in front of her, picked up my bag, and sighed. She swallowed a lump in her throat and stepped forward.

"Come on, Peter. Let's go get those cuts looked at." She said softly, as if addressing a large angry dog, which I suppose in their view I looked like. I smiled softly and nodded. I don't know what ponies used for painkillers, but I hoped it was strong enogh to keep me out of it for the rest of the day. We left the small street where my brawl had taken place, leaving behind Derpy's companion, the gold-plated pony seemingly ran off during the fight, and the human who laid still on the ground, eyes not wavering from there the hatched had struck one inch to the left of his head.

Sea Breeze

I watched in shock as Derpy and Peter walked away into the distance. My eyes continually shifted between Peter and the human on the ground. This was wrong. Humans like peter shouldn't exist. Every now and then a story about a smarter than average human would come about, and in the bigger cities con-ponies would set up stands to show off how well he could "train" his humans, only to later be revealed to have some secret trick or hidden motivator for their humans. Peter, though, was something else.

He could shop, meaning he could identify simple shapes and money values at the least, and he clearly had some comprehension for tool use. He saw the hatchet and immediately knew how to use it as a weapon. But the icing on the cake was his last act in the fight. He could have killed the other human. He should have killed the other human. Everything I know about humans tells me that when they get into a fight, they fight until they are tired or one side is dead. Peter still had enough energy to kill the human, so why didn't he?

Mercy. Peter showed mercy on his opponent, who was clearly beaten into submission. If this had been a fight over dominance, that would have been it, but these two were not part of a pack, it was a fight to the death, and Peter chose not to kill his opponent. The smiles had startled me, but those could be explained away through simple tricks of the eyes or little muscle spasms in the face. Combined with the display of mercy, compassion, and empathy, though, left little doubt of Peter's uniqueness. I would need to write my sister about this guy. I turned to go home to begin my letter, only to be stopped by a wall of gold.

Oh right. The guard. And he brought backup.

"Where'd Mrs. Doo and her human go?" the guard asked briskly.

"They left to go to the vet. Peter was pretty banged up after the fight." I responded. They would undoubtedly want a report. They always wanted a report. My cousin accidentally knocked over one of the Apple's fence posts, offered to fix it with no hard feelings, but was held up from doing it because a guard happened by and spent two hours writing up a report and making absolutely sure the Apples didn't want to press charges. I heard Granny Smith had to chase the guard off with a sizable broom handle.

"I see. Far Sight, go get the report." A unicorn guardspony nodded and ran off. The one who spoke turned back to me and was about to say something before he was cut off by a loud shriek.

"CHUCKIE!" a small pink filly cried,running to the side of the beaten human. "Chuckie! What happened to you? You're all covered in bruises. Come on, get up. Get up! Chuckie! Please be okay. Please be okay. Come on! We need to get you home!" She pleaded with the human, who's only response, if any, was to blink silently. "Chuckie, please. Get up. I'm sorry for not feeding you. Please." Finally the human tore his eyes from the hatchet as he turned his head toward the filly. He gathered her up in his arms and held her close as she sniffled.

The guard walked up to her as she and he human had this moment. "Excuse me miss. Is this your human?" he asked.

"Yes sir, this is my Chuckie. What happened to him?" She asked.

"He started a fight with another human over a cupcake. We're going to need to ask you some questions." The guard said as his cohorts cordoned off the area and began interviewing the shop owner who's window was destroyed. "First, why was your human running around unattended?"

"He was tied up at school, but managed to pull the post I had him tied to out of the ground, then he slipped his leash off the post. I've been looking for him ever since this morning." The filly answered.

"Very well" The guard continued, "Why do you think he attacked?"

"H-he was probably hungry. I was trying to teach him tricks by denying him food, and I guess I over did it."

"So he attacked another human, and potentially other ponies, just because he was hungry?" The guard asked sternly. I could only frown at this. the little filly was obviously shaken up by the ordeal, and he was grilling her like a common thug.

The human had sat up by now, and was gently stroking the filly's mane, a far off look in his eyes. "Y-yes. I'm sorry for any trouble he has caused, I'll make sure he doesn't do it again."

The guard made a contemplative noise before continuing. "Has your human been neutered, miss?"

"Well, yes. Daddy said a human who wasn't neutered would be too violent for me, so he shopped around for Chuckie."

"Well it apparently wasn't enough. I'm afraid we're going to have to put him down."

"WHAT!" The young filly exclaimed. "You can't do that! he was just hungry! you can't kill him just because he was hungry!"

"Even so, he tried to attack a pony, which is grounds for termination." The guard slowly approached the pair as the human became more sober. It was almost as if he was paying attention as the guard leveled his spear at the human's throat.

"Y-you can't! My daddy won't let you!" The little pony tried to block the guards valiantly, but was tossed aside gently.

"We can and we will little missy. I don't know who your daddy is, but our authority come from higher than him. Hold her back boys, I don't want her to be in the way." He received nods from his subordinates, who encircled the poor filly. "Now then back to bis-"

The guard was cut off as a hatched bounced off his helmet, knocking him to the ground. Chuckie had apparently grabbed the instrument and was now wielding it in one hand, eyes full of excitement and fear. With the guard on the ground, he looked around nervously. His eyes eventually settled on the pink filly. Her guards were now on the offensive, slowly encircling the human.

"RUN CHUCKIE! RUN!" the little filly cried, pointing at the gap between soldiers, "GO!"

That much he seemed to understand as he dropped the hatched and made a break for it. He rushed passed me fast enough for me to feel the wind blow my mane up. three guards gave chase, while two tended to their injured man. Once they were sure he was alright with just a minor concussion, one trotted up to me and seethed.

"Why didn't you try to stop him!?" He demanded.

"I'm sorry," I replied "What did you want me to do? Jump up and head but him?"

The guard only grunted and stormed off.

Author's Note

Sorry for the short chapter, I will be delayed for a while due to school research reports. I'll update when I can, though, so don't despair.