Seven Years Bad Luck

        The stalker rose from his seat twice to refill its - his - glass, and with each passing moment, he seemed to relax more and more. They were not precisely comfortable around each other, and Shining Armor knew enough to politely refuse anything he was offered, careful not to offend the stalker before his magic returned in full. The silence, oddly enough, was hardly awkward, though it was filled with inordinate amounts of staring and quiet judgment. Shining held up a hoof to refuse a third offered drink, which, like the others, appeared to be water, but could have been laced with any number of insidious chemicals. Shining was waiting until the stalker was drunk to make his escape, if he could manage it; maybe the drink would throw off his aim, or maybe put him to sleep.

        “So, might Ah ask what yer doin’ in this neck o’ the woods?” he asked, taking another sip.

        “Your kind always drink this much?” Armor asked in kind, testing the waters to see how soon his escape would be. Much to his joy, the stalker smirked and chuckled, shaking his head in good humor.

        “Ah suppose some of us do, but Ah drink t’ steady my hands.” To illustrate, he held up his free hand, which remained steady as a statue. If he needed a depressant to keep steady, was he constantly drinking, or was he putting on a show? “But, my question stands, mister… ?”

        “Armor, my name is Shining Armor,” the stallion answered, still looking for some hint of tipsiness in his captor’s voice, but cursed his luck when he detected no such trace. This was not good for his chances, but maybe he would be able to sneak out after the stalker went to sleep naturally; that theory, of course, relied on him requiring sleep at all, which wasn’t so certain at that point. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

        “Taylor, not much else to tell, honestly,” he replied, smiling. It was the first time Shining had seen him with an expression other than mild disinterest, and for some reason, he couldn’t help but feel the kindness wasn’t forced. Perhaps his culture had a thing for hospitality, or maybe he just wanted to lull him into a false sense of security to murder him. “Well, Mister Armor, I’m sure ya’ve a few questions for me, am Ah right?”

        The directness, the bluntness, was something the stallion hadn’t been prepared for, and it was rather shocking. This stalker, Taylor, was something else, quite unlike any species he’d studied in Equestria, and this left Shining at a disadvantage. Had his kind been living in the shadows, or were they simply another another race that had yet to be discovered? How far from the Crystal Empire had he been thrown, and where was Cadance? Was she safe? Trivialities such as his ability to return home were pushed aside as he focused on his main objective.

        “Have you seen anypony like me around here?” he asked, sure of himself. There was a flash of insight in Taylor’s eyes as the stallion spoke, but he had no choice but shake his head. “A little taller, and pink, with wings?” he kept adding to the description, and with each new feature, it was farther and farther from what the stalker could recall.

“Sorry; truth is, Ah ain’t seen much o’ nothing the past few days, least of all two o’ ya,” he answered, seeming sad enough to almost be believable, but Armor wouldn’t buy it for a second. The stalker went quiet, and for the first time, set his glass down on the coffee table between them. “Now, Ah can tell whoever yer lookin’ for is real important to ya, but Ah honestly haven’t seen ‘er”

That little detail, that he knew Cadance’s sex was enough for Armor to nearly blow up, but he controlled himself and managed to only whisper. “How did you know I was looking for a mare?” The stalker went quiet, mulling over how he could respond, but just as he was about to answer, he was cut off. “And what’s more, you tried to kill me earlier, but now you’re acting like we’re old friends.” Taylor, as he called himself, looked surprised at the accusation, but did not seem to deny it. “So, what’s the deal?” Armor asked, his voice only slightly above conversational levels.

“Ya’ve got a point, and the least Ah can do is explain myself,” the stalker said, shrugging. “Ah was out and about, like usual, and saw you moving around, but not too clear.” He gestured with his thumb to the same weapon he’d assembled earlier. “Had ya figured fer a deer before I got a clean look at you.” He smiled and chuckled as if it was something funny, but Armor very quickly started to wonder what his odds were if he were to smash the scotch glass in Taylor’s face and make a run for it. “Sorry about the ear, by the way.”

“I’m a bit more concerned about you killing innocent deer,” he replied, lightly touching the bandage over the tattered ear. He didn’t want to seem so angry and run the risk of being killed himself, but he wanted to get his point across. To his credit, the stalker had shame enough to look apologetic.

“Ah assure you, I have never heard a deer speak, and a man has to eat.”  A lie, perhaps, or maybe a genuine disregard for life; either way, Shining was certain he was dealing with a predator of some sort, and since they were on even ground, he may have stood a fair chance in the worst case. “Ya seem a little upset; Ah suppose deer can speak wherever it is yer from?”

Where you’re from. The phrase stuck in Shining’s mind, and he lowered his head in thought. He was definitely far from home, but there weren’t any instances of deer being unable to speak, save mutes or those who spoke a language most ponies had never heard of. Even those were built differently than the animatronic dummy he’d been tricked by, but the differences were small. Biting back a bit of shocked grief, he found the nerve to say something simple, a small deception wrapped in truth. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever been to a place deer could not speak.”

        In itself, the phrase seemed normal, but implied much more than Armor could have known. While it was certainly possible to confuse deer language with simple animal noises, he had no idea of the evolutionary courses that had taken shape in eons past, no clue that only a few animals had the ability to speak, and then, only to mimic. Shining Armor, in his intelligence, had proven to be something once thought nearly impossible, a curious biological quirk. Taylor smiled to reassure him. “Ah assure you, I would never bring unnecessary harm to an intelligent creature; it goes against everything Ah believe.”

        What qualified as unnecessary, Shining wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He gave a mental nudge, and realized his magic was back at full strength. He could escape right now if he so wished, but, to his credit, he shared the same belief Taylor did. Their eyes met, and the stalker smirked at him. “Yer free to go if ya want, but with the sun set, it’s a bit colder than it was this morning.” He took another sip of his drink, the first he’d taken since the conversation really began, and looked into the brightness that lay just outside the window; the moonlight reflecting off the snow was blindingly brilliant. “It should warm up tomorrow, so if yer willing to sleep here for the night, Ah’ll join you looking fer her tomorrow.”

        With that, Taylor nodded to him, and retired for the night.

@#@#@#@#@#@#

        Snow crunched under his hooves, leaving dark prints as the ground’s soil showed through the brightness. He’d spent most of the day in a coma brought on by the stalker’s tranquilizers, but that hardly counted as rest, and while he’d only begun his search, the cold was sapping his strength faster than he’d anticipated. It wasn’t biting, and though the wind had settled, the chill set into his bones. Honestly, on an empty stomach and lacking sleep as he was, the cold earth’s call to sleep was nearly enough to give him pause. He was lost far, far from home, without his wife; he needed to find her and figure out some way to get home, but had no way of doing so.

        He didn’t even have an idea where here was, but he knew he most certainly wasn’t anywhere ponies were common, not if the deer were incapable of speech. Had the stalker even been telling the truth, or was he a murderer? Had he made the right choice in leaving, or was it a trap? Was he planning to kill Armor out here? It was certainly quiet enough for Taylor to stalk him, but without the wind, would he be easier to detect? Would he even need to be near to kill the stallion, or would his cannon take care of that?

        The sound of crunching snow drew his attention, rapidly approaching, and he hunkered down to hide himself. A large, dark shape sprinted through the woods, running on four legs instead of the stalker’s two. It was a seething, implacable pile of muscled destruction as it angrily ran through small trees without pause, its beady eyes glinting in the moonlight. It was a bear, large and dark as night, and it was charging right at him. It was winter by Shining’s best guess, so what was a bear doing awake, and why was it so mad?

        Without pause, he sparked his horn to life, ready to erect a shield to safeguard himself from the irate ursa. The spell failed in a small shower of pink lights, leaving him without defense; he cursed the settled chill, sure it was the cause of his lack of energy, but it had never happened before. A sudden slam in his side brought him fully back to reality, but even as he prepared to fight back, the sudden thunderclap of the stalker’s weapon filled the air. No, it was different, but only a little. Again and again the weapon sounded off, a total of six times before the stallion’s ears were ringing too much for him to pay attention.

        He looked up and saw Taylor, clad in only cursory cold-weather clothing, rested on one knee as he held another of his cannons, this one sporting a level he threaded three fingers through; a small group of brass shells steamed in the snow as the barrel smoked, hot from repeated use. The bear had been taken down cleanly, from what Shining could see, and slid a good way after it dropped, killed by a shot through the mouth.

        “Ah thought bears hybernated during winter,” the stalker said rising from his position. “Wonder what woke ‘im up, huh?” he asked, looking to the stallion; he was grinning like he always seemed to be when he thought he had the advantage. “Remind me t’ ask ya about that light show in the morning.”

        “How did you find me out here?” Armor asked, glad for the help. Something had kept him from casting earlier, and it had nearly cost him his life. Maybe, and it was a very big maybe, having Taylor around wouldn’t be too bad, provided he had a good enough excuse for following him. “I thought you went to sleep.”

        “Ah told ya Ah’d help look for whoever it is yer looking for, and hoped ya’d stay the night and continue in the morning,” he grumbled, wincing as he put weight on the leg that he had leaned on while kneeling; his opposite ankle was in similar condition. “Mountains ain’t so friendly after dark, ya know?”

        “I do now,” Shining replied, unsure what to think. Honestly, charging bears were one thing, but stalkers like Taylor were another entirely; he had to come from somewhere, meaning that there had to be other stalkers somewhere out there, and they may not be so friendly, if this one could be counted as friendly to begin with. “That was a nice save, by the way.”

        “Not my best,” Taylor said, shrugging as though the stallion would understand. He chuckled as he slipped a few pointed bits of brass into the weapon’s underside, before dropping the lever and expelling another spent case. “Oh, and don’t tell the game warden about this; killing bears is kinda illegal around here.”

        “Didn’t you hit me with something meant for bears to knock me out?” Armor asked, tilting his head to the side as the stalker approached the corpse. With a quick nudge of his foot, Taylor knocked the bear’s body over to inspect the damage, admiring his own work.

        “Didn't think ya’d appreciate me taking the time to pump up the air gun,” he answered, slinging the cannon over his shoulder. He seemed tense, eyes darting at every shadow, but in good enough a mood to keep from being too jumpy. “‘sides, used the last dart on ya this morning.”

        “Guess you’re not prepared for everything, huh?” Armor asked, trotting up to the dead bear Taylor was busying himself with. Both the stalker’s arms flew back with a wet popping noise and a long dribble of steaming blood. The stallion looked at the prize his newfound ally clutched in his hand in disgust. “Did you just rip out its teeth?”

        “Just the canines; owe a buddy o’ mine a couple after Ah lost a bet.” Taylor jumped up, wincing at the still-numb foot, and grinned. “About time for some shut eye, yeah?”