Distant Shores

Calliope awoke. She was lying in sand. She heard the distant wash of waves. She lifted her head. Nearby was Springer, sprawled in the sand, not moving, but breathing. She felt a rush of relief and a rush of heat down in her loins, thinking about those final moments onboard the ship. She looked around some more and spotted Dimple and Xanthippe nearby. Her sensitive ears had definitely picked up some lip smacking from those two.

She struggled to her hooves and flapped her leathery bat-like wings. She shook herself, dislodging sand and seaweed. She gave a loud piercing whistle and waited.

It didn’t take long. She saw ears stirring, fidgeting, and she heard Dimple grunting. Sure enough, Dimple was the next on his hooves. All three of them. She looked around. They were on a beach. The beach was covered in sand and pebbles, and seashells were strewn about.

Calliope was thirsty. She began to sniff the air carefully, hoping to catch the scent of fresh water. It was not an easy task. Mostly what she smelled right now was wet pony. Seaweed. Salty tang of the ocean. She snorted, blowing sediment from her nostrils.

Xanthippe was wobbling around next, Dimple at her side, trying to keep her from falling over. Calliope had never seen a zebra before. Xanthippe seemed nice enough.

And finally, Springer groaned but made no effort to rise. Calliope wondered if she could get other parts of him to rise. She clicked a few times to herself, popped loudly, and smiled.

“Oh bugger me. My head hurts.” Springer groaned. “And I swear, I saw fish ponies.”

“I saw them too.” Xanthippe said.

“I had my eyes closed.” Dimple added.

Calliope clicked a few times and nodded her head.

Springer continued to lay supine in the sand, not moving, clutching his head. Calliope took a few steps to get closer to him, placed her head down low and then gently kissed him on the cheek, below his empty eye socket. Springer smiled weakly.

“As soon as I get to feeling better, you and I are going to pick up where we left off.” Springer mumbled, spitting sand from his lips. Calliope trilled an excited series of whistles, causing Springer to flinch. “I need a drink.” Springer said. “Of water.” He added. “Hair of the diamond dog later.” He finished, still clutching his head.

Calliope raised her head high and began to sniff again, trying to find some faint trace. Her senses were finely attuned. She could hear four hearts beating, including her own. She heard wind. Waves. She sniffed, drawing air into her nose, pulling it in deep, savouring the air. She smelled pines, somewhere, even if she could not see them. To many scents. She could not find what she was looking for. However, her ears detected something useful. A distant roar. There was a ridge in the distance, shrouded in fog and mist. She turned and whistled, trying to let her companions know to follow her, following it up with what Calliope hoped were friendly sounding pops.

She took off quickly, still fluttering her wings, still trying to shake sand from her coat.

“Let’s go.” Xanthippe said, following. “I think our friend is trying to tell us something.”

“I hope she knows where food is. I am so hungry I could eat my other leg.” Dimple said, causing Xanthippe to shudder violently as she walked.

Springer struggled to his hooves, cursing and muttering under his breath. “Sodding bloody Tartarus.” He muttered. “My head.” He shook himself, sending sand flying everywhere. “Hey Calliope!” He shouted. “Wait for me.” He trotted forward, wobbling somewhat unsteadily. “What a filly.” He said. “I hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her go.” He said, watching her tail flick.

Calliope turned and shot him a smoulderingly sultry glare.

Springer doubled his pace.

“That’s cheesy.” Dimple said. “Trust me, I know cheesy.” He grinned as his stomach rumbled.

The four of them walked for quite some ways, making their way towards a high reaching ridge. It wasn’t long before they heard the rush of a waterfall, causing them to pick up their pace. There was grass on the ground. It wasn’t much of a meal, but it was food. Springer was certainly desperate enough, and he seldom ate anything that wasn’t up to his standards.

Dimple, being a practical pony, snatched up mouthfuls of grass as he triple-trotted along.

The four soon came upon a large pool of water, a thin waterfall tumbling down the ridge, with pines up top of the ridge. Calliope dived into the pool and disappeared for several moments. She emerged with a wiggling fish, which she swallowed. She dove again.

“Water.” Springer said. “Water. Where the fish fornicate freely and crap where they live. This is why I drink fermented beverages.” He plunged his head into the icy water and drank deeply.

Xanthippe paused at the water, considering Springer’s statement. Yuck. She took a drink, hesitating slightly as she did.

Dimple threw himself in to the pool, ready to wash away the salt water. He swam for a few moments, drinking as he went, and eventually laid down in the shallow water. He sighed.

Calliope emerged with another fish, which she swallowed. And then she was gone again.

Xanthippe finally worked up enough nerve to throw herself into the cold water and rinse the salt from her coat. And it was cold. She wasn’t used to the cold, not like these shaggy ponies were. She shivered.

Springer took a running dive into the pool and allowed himself to sink in. He emerged a few moments later, spitting, and swam over to the shallows where Dimple was sprawled.

“I wonder where we are.” Springer said. “Which part of the world we are in.”

“I don’t know.” Dimple replied. “But I like it here. I think I’m sick of the city.”

“How can you say that?’ Springer demanded. “The city. Civilisation. Fine food. Fine drink. Valuables lying around, waiting to be collected. There is nothing, and I mean nothing here.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Dimple said, smiling, enjoying Springer’s discomfort. “Nice and quiet. Nothing clobbering me over my head. There’s two nice fillies. I haven’t had to murder anybody so far. I think I’m getting sick of killing things. It has gotten to the point where I no longer lose sleep over it.” Dimple’s voice had an uncharacteristic melancholy tone.

Springer nodded, it was as far as he could go towards admitting his friend had a point. Xanthippe came into the shallows near them, stood near for a moment, and then apparently changed her mind when she left the water and stood on a rock on the shore. Calliope caught another fish, gobbled, and dived. She looked exceedingly happy.

And Springer realised, he was actually rather happy himself. Which was odd, given his surroundings. Perhaps it was the company, he thought to himself, and then quickly dismissed his own thoughts.

Dimple rose up out of the water and shook himself off. He sniffed, looking around, wondering if there was anything worth eating other than grass. He took off in his odd triple-trot and began to prowl the area, looking for anything remotely edible.

Xanthippe sat on her rock, sunning herself, watching Calliope catch fish and eat them.

When Dimple was out of earshot, Springer cleared his throat. “Xanthippe?” He said, his voice soft.

“Yes?” Said Xanthippe from up on top of her rock.

“I must ask. Please do not break my associate’s heart. Under that stony exteriour lies the heart of a romantic ninny. He’s saving himself for just the right filly. Or mare. It’ll probably be later than sooner. So mare. He looks rough, but he is really very fragile in the middle.” Springer watched the clouds roll by as he spoke. “The only itch he’ll ask you to scratch is his back.” Springer chuckled softly as he continued; “You’re the first filly he’s ever kissed.”

Xanthippe began to blush furiously, the chill of the water now gone. She felt certain that her white stripes were now pink. Heat flooded her body, and she felt her ears burning, as though on fire.

After several moments of silence, she finally worked up a little courage. “I have no intention of hurting him after what he has done for me.” She said, her words strained in her throat.

“”Good. Cause I don’t get mad. I get even.” Springer said, smiling, still looking at the clouds.

“Springer?” Xanthippe asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Yes?” Springer replied, scratching his belly.

“How did Dimple lose his leg?” Xanthippe asked, her face full of concern.

“Dimple stepped into a bear trap when he escaped.” Springer said, his face becoming a scowl. “I strongly suspect he chewed his own leg off at the shoulder.”

“Escaped?” Xanthippe asked.

“Dimple was a slave. A cheesemaker minotaur owned him. Dimple was going to spend the rest of his life pulling wagons loaded down with cheese.” Springer explained. “He escaped and ran into the woods. He stepped into a trap. Like I said, I think he chewed his leg off. And then he ran into the city and nearly died. I found him. Nursed him back to health. All for very selfish reasons mind you. At least at the time. Always good to have a stooge indebted to you. At some point, he stopped being my stooge and became my associate. He gets forty percent. As you have seen, Dimple is very, very useful for somepony in my trade.”

Xanthippe sat on her rock, feeling a mix of shock and horror. “Wait.” Xanthippe said. “If Dimple was a slave, and knows how it feels, why would he keep me as his possession?”

Springer shrugged, lying in the water. “No idea. Dimple has a very simple mind. And probably a very simple reason. He’s a practical pony. You should ask him.”

“I… I… I… I… I do not understand either one of you. You seem honourable and kind enough for a thief. Dimple, well, I don’t know what to make of Dimple. Both of you are very strange. I wouldn’t expect thieves to be like either one of you at all.” Xanthippe stammered. “You both are the most immoral moral ponies I have ever met.”

Springer laughed riotously in the water, kicking his hind legs and splashing while he guffawed.

“Dimple can be so gentle… The way he held me when the ship was sinking… And earlier that day I watched him twist a minotaur’s head around, snapping his neck, and showing him his own backside before he died. I saw him take another minotaur into a headlock with his front leg and then fold him backwards until his spine snapped, bracing one hind leg into the middle of the minotaur’s spine as he pulled. I don’t understand how he can be both.” Xanthippe said, her voice flooded with emotion. “Stop laughing!” She cried.

Springer tried to calm himself. Calliope seemed to be done fishing, and was now going ashore. She scrambled up on top of Xanthippe’s rock and sat down, her slitted eyes squinting in the sun. Her belly was now fat with fish and she had some trouble moving.

“You’ve over complicated things for Dimple.” Springer said, his laugher now gone. His face looked thoughtful.

“Explain then” Xanthippe said.

“Dimple isn’t stupid exactly. But he is a very simple pony. He isn’t the usual earth pony numbskull. He has his moments where he shines. Otherwise, I wouldn’t waste my time with him. But he is a very simple pony at the center of it all. He throws all of himself that he has into whatever the situation demands. When he’s fighting, he is fighting. All of him. He holds nothing back. He loses himself in the moment. Sort of like a unicorn does sometimes with magic. The earth ponies of old called it ‘berserker rage’ and I guess a few pegasi had it as well. Most earth ponies are harmless farmer types, simple, good, just, kind ponies. But a few, well, they have bad tempers. Make them angry, they’ll go berserk. Something had to protect the earth ponies from their enemies. And a few were born a little different.” Springer paused and cleared his throat, and then continued; “It doesn’t just extend to his temper, or his fighting, but everything he does. He is the best friend you could ask for, because he throws all of himself into being your friend. When he is kind, he throws all of himself into kindness. When he rages, look out, there is a lot of pony there, and he has a lot to throw around. When he finally reaches full size, he’s gonna be huge. Do you understand me?” Springer said.

Xanthippe sat in silence for a long time, nothing saying anything. Finally, she spoke: “I think I understand. I am glad to have met both of you. And you as well Calliope.”

Calliope clicked and chirped in reply, smiling, her fangs visible.

Dimple came crashing through the underbrush. “Hey, found food. There is a grove of wild plum trees not far from here. There is also a raspberry thicket.”

Springer rose from the water, shaking himself dry. “I prefer my plums in the form of wine.” He replied.

“Let’s go.” Dimple said impatiently. “I’m starving. I didn’t touch anything. Didn’t feel right because you hadn’t had anything.”

“See what I mean?” Springer said, smiling at Xanthippe.