Episode 1: Gay for Braeburn (First Draft)
Episode 1
Gay for Braeburn
Braeburn was incredibly happy as he walked up to the door of his Appleloosa home. He had just made an extravagant apple sale, and to Filthy Rich, no less! The jingle of bits in his saddlebag filled the air as he set it down on the table outside. He had an excessive amount left over; he just couldn't think of anything to spend it on. He sat down on his haunches next to the table in the shade of his awning, dug through his bag, and pulled out a bag of lukewarm hayfries.
He casually chomped at the hayfries, looking over the town at all the ponies of Appleloosa. They came and went, going about their business. Braeburn's eyes wandered down the street and were caught by a splotch of blue on the wall of the bar at the edge of town near his house. The poster was a bright shade of blue, contrasting strongly with the dull colors of the rest of the town, and advertised a flight show being put on by the Wonderbolts in the nearby town of Hoofington.
Braeburn chewed thoughtfully. He had never been to one of their shows, but he knew who they were, of course. He remembered the last time his cousin Applejack had visited, her friend with the rainbow mane had gone on about them like nothing else. Hoofington was about twenty miles from Appleloosa; he would have to take the train, and if he hurried, he would easily be able to pack for an overnight stay. He had nothing pressing going on at the moment, and he could always have his second cousin Peachy Sweet take care of the orchard for a while.
He went inside and up to his bedroom, grabbing a suitcase out of the closet. He had been working hard lately, and he deserved a break! He reached in the back of the closet and began packing his secret stash of hair products and soaps. It was fun being a country pony, but sometimes his coat and mane needed special treatment. He then packed an extra vest, snapped the case shut, and took the handle in his mouth, heading out the door.
He headed down to Peachy Sweet's house and knocked on the front door. It opened to reveal the green mare wearing a set of white cowpony boots with green trim. She was also wearing a hat, and appeared to be ready to go somewhere.
"Hey there, Braeburn! I was just about to go out on the town!"
"Well, I'm takin' a bit of a break and goin' to Hoofington."
"Wow, you're takin' a vacation?"
"Yeah, I had an itchin' to go somewhere. Think you can take care of the trees while I'm gone?"
"Sure thing, Braeburn! I'll make sure to check up on 'em in the morn." He gave her a tight hug.
"You're the best, Peach. See ya later," he said, pulling back.
"Bye!" She waved a boot in the air in farewell as Braeburn walked toward the train station.
He stepped off the train onto the platform and was immediately greeted by the ugly smell of the town coal mine. It had really not been the best city planning decision to place the station a quarter mile away from it. The smell was everywhere at all hours, and the black, grimy coal dust was omnipresent, coating every surface.
Braeburn trotted down the steps and walked downtown to the address that had been on the poster. He paid his bits to the stallion posted at the entrance, took his ticket, and then went inside, sitting in the seat listed on the card. It was an open-ceiling stadium, and from where he was sitting, he could clearly see the moon poking out from behind a cloud. Everypony was extremely talkative. Half the town must have been there, and every single one was chatting about some trouble they had had at work, or some funny sign they had seen, or some puddle that resembled Celestia's head.
After a few minutes, the floodlights dimmed and the audience slowly quieted. An announcer came on the intercom, a stallion with a gruff voice who sounded like he really loved his job.
"Fillies and gentlecolts! Please put your hooves to the ground for tonight's greatest stars! The best fliers in all of Equestria! The ones you've all been waiting for, the Wonderbolts!" There appeared in the distance in front of the moon three blue specks, heading rapidly toward the stadium. An anticipatory silence fell over the crowd as they grew increasingly closer. As they closed in, Braeburn could make out yellow stripes, then the ponies' faces. They headed almost straight for his seat, pulling behind them contrails of black smoke crackling with electricity. Approximately five seconds after the announcement, they flew with a whoosh over Braeburn's head and pulled up at the last possible second. The crowd suddenly cheered, producing a deafening cacophony loud enough to leave Braeburn's ears ringing.
The pegasi looped back around and cut across the stadium laterally, moving from left to right across Braeburn's vision. One particular pegasus caught his eye, the one with the blue mane. Soarin', he thought was the stallion's name. He kept his eye on Soarin' for most of the performance, only breaking his gaze when they went out of his line of sight.
They did several more loops and tricks, culminating in a brisk ascension to record heights. The leader stopped ascending, and the two stallions rose up behind her. They turned and powered downward, quickly picking up speed, and right before they reached the ground, they instantly changed direction, scattering and producing a triple sonic boom. The crowd went wild. And though it didn't make sense, Braeburn could have sworn that Soarin' had looked straight at him as he had flown by.
Braeburn got out of the taxi, paying the driver an excessive twenty-five bits, and took his suitcase with him through the door into the lobby of the small motel. Though it was obviously run-down, work had clearly been done recently on the walls, the windows, the doors... Basically any part of the motel that was ugly had been painted over or replaced, not always with good results.
He walked up to the desk to see a dingy-looking red mare with a barrette in her blue hair filing her hooves. She looked up at his approach and spoke in a drawl much worse than his own, almost sounding like she was making fun of him, though he had not yet said a word.
"Howdy there, stranger. What c'n Ah do ya fer?"
"I'd like to get a room here, one-night stay only please." He smiled. "I'm in town for the Wonderbolts show."
"A'ight, jus' lemme go back an' get th' register." She sauntered away into the back room. Suddenly, Braeburn heard a voice behind him.
"Hey!" He turned to see the blue maned Wonderbolt standing in the doorway in his flight suit, his goggles pulled up onto his cranium. He wore a dorky smile, like he had just pulled off an awesome prank, and his luxurious blue tail swayed between his legs like a pendulum. "What's your name?" The farm pony blushed slightly at being spoken to by such a celebrity.
"I'm, uh, Braeburn. Braeburn Apple." Braeburn held out his hoof and the Wonderbolt took it in his own, shaking strongly. Braeburn's foreleg was almost limp in the stallion's hooves, and he tried to fix it, but only ended up causing both shakers to fall out of sync.
"Whoops!" said the pegasus with a dorky grin. "Don't tear my hoof off!" They both let go and Braeburn blushed once again. "I'm Soaring Eagle, but everypony calls me Soarin'. Hey, I think I remember you. You were at the show, right?"
"Yeah. Just came from the great town of Aaaapleloosa!" He reared up and kicked his front hooves in a display of pride. Soarin' was more than a little surprised. "Sorry," said Braeburn. "Force of habit."
"It's alright," said Soarin'. "It's kinda funny." Braeburn blushed more intensely, turning his head. "You know," said Soarin', his smile widening, "you're kinda cute when you do that. Hey, how about you have dinner with me. The night's still young."
"Are you... askin' me out?" Soarin's smile disappeared to some distant land of rainbows and kittens, leaving behind it an expression of utter and complete embarrassment.
"Oh, are you straight? I'm sorry! I thought I read the signals correctly. If you are straight, I'm really sorry and I'll leave you alone."
"I'm straight," said Braeburn.
"Got it," replied Soarin'. He turned to grab his key and go to his room. "I promise I won't bother you again."
"...straight as a circle," Braeburn added. Soarin' twisted to reveal that his smile had returned.
"Awesome! I'll just go put my things away and meet you outside."
"Now hold on a minute!" Braeburn said half-jokingly. "You didn't wait for my answer!"
"Oh, sorry. What was it?" Braeburn held up his chin with closed eyes.
"Yes, Soarin', I will go on a date with you."
"Alright!" The clerk had returned some time ago and called their attention with a cough.
"So, single room fer yew two, yay or neigh?"
Romano's was a quaint little Italian restaurant on the north end of Post Street, and one of the few restaurants in the area. It was a modest building, made mostly of brick, and appeared in fairly decent shape for a structure of its apparent age. After checking into his room, Braeburn had gotten a nice hot shower and gone outside to meet his date. Soarin' had walked him slightly uptown to the venue and they currently stood on the outside waiting to be seated. It was extremely crowded at 8:00, and Soarin' had the right of way as a celebrity, but he had chosen not to exercise his fame to the detriment of other waiting diners. Braeburn admired that.
They walked inside and up to the stallion ready to seat them. He wore a curly mustache and was speaking to another patron, but turned at the jingle of the bell over the door. The tall stallion realized who had just walked into his restaurant and promptly shook Soarin's hoof vigorously, speaking with a slight but noticeable accent.
"By Celestia, Soarin' of the Wonderbolts! I am Romano, the owner of this business. I cannot tell you what an honor it is to have you here in my establishment!"
"Well," said Soarin', "if you don't mind, I'd like to keep a low profile for tonight."
"Oh, absolutely, sir!" He backed off and took a more casual stance so as not to alert the other customers. "A table just opened up in the back. Please, follow me." He turned right and began guiding the two to their table. Soarin' went after him and Braeburn followed. They were seated at a table near the back with two red wax candles on it, positioned in ornate gold candelabras. The waiter struck a match and lit the candles, blowing it out with his nose and dropping it in a dish on the table to smolder. He held his head high with a smile.
"Specially ordered aromatherapy matches," he explained. "The smoke wafts up to mix with the scent of the candles, producing a wonderful wood smoke aroma that is an excellent aphrodisiac. We pride ourselves on being the most romantic establishment in Southern Equestria!"
"Don't it seem a little odd to you that two stallions are havin' a romantic dinner?" Braeburn asked.
"Nonsense!" replied the waiter. "We here at Romano's turn away no type of romance! Now, if you'll just wait here, your server will be with you in just a moment." He then left and headed toward the kitchen.
"Alright, that was weird," said Braeburn, turning to Soarin'. "How did he know we were here for a date?"
"Well," replied Soarin' with a slight blush, "I publicly came out about two or three years ago. I guess he heard about it and made the connection."
"But if you're outta the closet, how come my cousin's friend Rainbow Dash is so smitten with ya?"
"You know Rainbow Dash?" Soarin' said happily.
"Yeah, like I said, my cousin Applejack's friend."
"And you're Applejack's cousin?!"
"Well, I'm assumin' ya know them, judging by your reaction."
"I met them both at the Grand Galloping Gala a few years ago. Applejack sold me a pie, and Rainbow saved it from hitting the ground when I dropped it."
"Wow," said Braeburn in a deadpan tone, "you are forever in her debt."
"I know, right?" said Soarin', having apparently missed Braeburn's point completely. "Also, she was in the Equestria Games, and the others tried to replace me with her last year."
"What'd they do that for?" Braeburn asked angrily.
"She was there to represent Ponyville. I sprained my wing in one of the early races, and they found her to replace me. But after my wing healed, they kept me in the hospital and kept Rainbow Dash on the team. She's faster than I am, I guess." He smiled. "It all worked out in the end, but if I'm not careful, that mare'll put me out of a job."
"Well, why does she keep actin' like you're the only stallion in Equestria for her? If she's such a big fan, she certainly must have heard you were gay."
"I think she's in denial." Braeburn chuckled at that. "So tell me about you. What kinda things have happened in your life?"
"Well," Braeburn began thoughtfully, "I'm an apple farmer, originally from Ponyville a long while back, and then I moved around and eventually settled in the middle of nowhere in Aaapleloosa!" Braeburn smiled and barely managed to keep his front hooves down.
"You wouldn't happen to be the same Braeburn who founded the town, would you? That's really awesome!"
"Shoot, ya make it sound like I'm some kinda real-life Darin' Do. And I weren't the only one who helped build it; we started out with prob'ly 30 ponies. I mostly just did the town plannin'; makin' sure everything was built in the right place."
"Who cares what part you did, you were involved in founding a town! Anypony would kill to have that honor! Well, maybe not anypony, but I would."
"Aw, that's sweet." Just then, their waitress walked up and floated out a pen and pad of paper. She was a bright red unicorn mare with a stylish pink mane and crimson eyes, and her magic was a soft, pleasant pink. Her apron wrapped around her front but left her cutie mark exposed, which appeared to be a jar of red jelly. She introduced herself in a cheerful, chipper voice.
"Good evening, I'm Strawberry Jam; I'll be your server for today. What kind of drinks would you two like?" Braeburn spoke first.
"I'll have the cider, please." She wrote it down and turned to the second stallion.
"And for you, sir?"
"I'll have a Hoors Lite." She wrote down the corresponding note on the pad.
"And would you two like to order, or are you still deciding?"
"I think we need a little more time," said Soarin'.
"Okay," she said, "I'll be back in a few minutes with your drinks." She walked off, going around to her other tables.
"Well, that was a bit annoying," Soarin' said casually. Braeburn smiled, remembering something Peachy Sweet had once told him.
If the waiter comes and yer relieved, she had said, then it's goin' down the tubes. But if yer annoyed when the waiter comes by, the date is goin' well.
"We should probably figure out what we want," said Soarin'. They both opened their menus, looking up and down the list of choices. After a few moments, Soarin' decided on the veggie lasagna, and Braeburn chose the fettuccini alfredo. When the waitress came back with their drinks they told her their choices and she left to have them made. "So how goes the apple business?" asked Soarin'.
"Well, it's goin' really good right about now. I recently made a sale to Filthy Rich, ya ever heard of him?"
"The owner of Barnyard Bargains, right?"
"That's the one. Anyway, I sold him a whole load of apples yesterday, and I had some money left over, so I thought I'd come here and see the show." Soarin' leaned over the table on his elbows.
"Well, I'm glad you did," he said.
"Me too," said Braeburn. They shared a romantic moment together. Braeburn leaned forward, closing in on Soarin's face. Their eyes slowly closed, and their lips came together in a slow, gentle kiss. Their lips explored one another, and their tongues touched lightly. Braeburn was the first to pull back.
"Oh, did I misread the situation?" asked Soarin'. "I thought you wanted to kiss."
"I did, it's just..." Braeburn swallowed roughly. "I don't know if I want a coltfriend now."
"Oh, alright," replied Soarin'. "I understand. You're not out yet."
"No, I am, I just don't know if I can handle a stallion in my life, what with all my work and everything. I work practically seven days a week, and only take a day off when I run outta chores to do."
"But," said Soarin' with a tear in his eye, "I really like you."
"Now don't give me that," said Braeburn. "I'm sure there are a mighty lotta stallions out there would be glad to have ya." Soarin' tried to sniff his tears away.
"Right, sorry," he said. "I'm overreacting."
"Hey," said Braeburn, lifting Soarin's chin with his hoof, "I like you too. We both just have demanding jobs, and I don't wanna date you if I can't spend time with you. Got it?" Soarin' nodded and Braeburn retracted his hoof. "Tell ya what, we'll finish this date. Then I gotta get back home. But I'll keep you in mind, okay? Maybe meet back up in the winter, when business is slower. You know where the town is." The pegasus nodded again.
"Alright."
"So, once the food comes, we'll start talkin' again. In fact, why don't you start talkin' now? How'd ya become a Wonderbolt?" Soarin' finally perked up, clearly proud of whatever he had done to earn a spot on the team. He began to tell his story, and after they got their food he continued to tell it with his mouth full in between slurpy eating noises and expressions of satisfaction for the food.
Braeburn half-listened, mostly staring at his fettuccini and poking at it with the fork and occasionally eating some, but only half-heartedly. He really didn't have the time to give Soarin' that he deserved. He had done the right thing in denying a relationship.
Right?
They finished their dinner and after paying the check Soarin' escorted Braeburn outside. They quietly chuckled to themselves, both trying to cover up the disappointment the date had brought. Soarin' turned to look at Braeburn.
"So I guess this is goodbye, then," he said.
"Not really," said Braeburn, even though they both knew it almost certainly was. They would not see each other again in the winter; they would both go about their daily business, pretending to forget about each other but never quite managing it.
"Goodbye, Braeburn."
"Goodbye, Soarin'." The Pegasus spread his wings, and then hesitated. He turned and gave Braeburn one last kiss, passionate but gentle. Braeburn closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. He felt the other stallion end it and felt a rush of air, and when he opened his eyes, Soarin' was gone.
Soarin' had a lot of time to think as he flew. The date had been almost a total disaster, and he could not help but feel let down. Everything had seemed so promising. They had had great chemistry, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why Braeburn had broken it off in the middle of the meal. Sure, he said it was because he had a demanding job, but there was something else at work. He himself had a job that demanded a lot of time and energy, including acrobatics, G-force training, and weight lifting. Although that last one really helped to get the stallions, so he had no regrets in that department.
Braeburn had wanted to learn about him first, and that totally made sense. But after the first kiss he had suddenly become distant, like he decided not to like Soarin' anymore. He had said that was not the case, but Soarin' could still feel a small shred of doubt clinging to the back of his mind as he floated along beneath the moonlight.
He had simply flown around town unclothed until about midnight. As it was getting late and they would be leaving for Baltimare at 8:00, he thought he should probably get to the hotel and get some shuteye.
He alighted on the balcony outside his room and unlocked the door. Before he could enter, however, he heard behind him a clopping of hooves. He quickly jumped inside and closed the door behind him. He moved to the window to see Braeburn walking up the sidewalk toward the motel, looking around, probably for him.
Soarin' closed the curtain in shame. He could never face Braeburn; he was just too embarrassed. He slinked to his bed and silently hoped he would not have to see him the next day.
A few minutes later, Soarin' heard a loud knocking on his door. He knew it was Braeburn, so he didn't get up to answer it. After about 30 seconds, he heard him walking away back to his own room.
Braeburn had always been a night owl. He enjoyed the night, so it was no problem for him to avoid going back to the motel and seeing Soarin' walking or flying by. He was ashamed of what he had done. He had almost certainly made it seem as though he did not like Soarin' at all, but this was the opposite of the truth. He liked Soarin' too much, and he did not want to date Soarin' if they would not have time for each other, because that could eventually cause resentment, and Braeburn did not want that. He wanted Soarin' to be happy with a stallion that could give him their time.
He trotted along the quiet street and came upon a bench. He went up to it and lay down on it, putting his chin on his front hooves. After a few minutes, he heard a male voice addressing him.
"Hey, you okay? Are you homeless?" Braeburn lifted his head to see a white earth stallion with a gray mane and slight underbite. His cutie mark appeared to be a few coins.
"No," said Braeburn quietly, "I'm not homeless." He laid his head back down. "Just depressed." The stranger sat down next to him.
"You want to talk about it?"
"What are you doing out here this late, anyway?" Braeburn asked, dodging the question.
"Taking a late walk. You?"
"Same." There was a pause between them.
"So?" prompted the stranger. "Do you want to talk about it? Were you dumped or something?"
"Not exactly."
"What, did you dump some mare, and now you're beating yourself up about it?"
"It was a stallion," said Braeburn flatly.
"Oh," replied the stranger. "Well, can't say that's my preference, but I don't judge. I know what it's like to be judged."
"Not like I do." The stranger thought about this for a moment, then conceded.
"I guess you're right. You probably know much more than I do about being judged, considering your lifestyle." Braeburn looked up.
"'Lifestyle?' Boy, I could kick you into next Tuesday, so you should think carefully about what you say, hear?"
"Right, sorry. I just meant—"
"I know what you meant!" Braeburn turned around angrily.
"Sorry." There was another silence, which the stranger once again broke. "So what happened?"
"What business is it of yours?"
"Just here to lend a friendly ear." Braeburn sighed.
"It was the first date, and I told him I wouldn't be able to make time for him, so we shouldn't date at all." He opened up to the stranger, going on to tell him of the whole date. He was surprisingly easy to talk to.
"Well," he said after the long conversation, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you had commitment issues."
"Wait, what the hay?! I never said that!"
"Think about it. This is how it seems to me: you sound like you had an instant connection. You really liked him, but you still didn't want to get involved. He really liked you, but that scared you, so you broke it off before it could go anywhere."
"Now where do you get off analyzin' my feelings like that? What makes you so much better?" Braeburn was honestly more confused than angry. Why did this strange stallion care so much about his business?
"I've, uh... Let's just say I've had some epiphanies of my own, so I kind of feel a need to help ponies. Now, you need to look at this objectively. Don't let your own opinions and biases come into it, and just look at the facts. Is this helping you? Did it make you feel better to break it off?" Braeburn thought hard for a moment.
"Well... no."
"And do you think he feels any better for it?"
"Uh, no."
"Would you be happier with each other?"
"Maybe." The stranger looked at him. "Probably." He patted Braeburn lightly on the back.
"Go get him, then." Braeburn got up with a smile and ran off to follow the advice of... He had never heard the stallion's name. He turned around and yelled back to him as he was running.
"Hey, what's your name?" The stranger smiled.
"Not important!" he yelled back, still sitting on the bench. Braeburn went back to running. A few seconds later he looked back one last time, but the strange pony was gone.
He woke up to see the sun peeking in through the window of the motel room. Braeburn stretched, taking in the wonderful feeling of waking up in an exotic place, with no immediate worries... and nopony to share it with. His thoughts immediately hit a sour note when he thought of Soarin'. His heart ached.
The night before, he had asked the clerk what room Soarin' was in, and had tried to talk to him, but he hadn't answered his door. Braeburn had simply gone to bed, hoping to wake up in time to catch Soarin' leaving.
Oh, buck! he thought. What time is it? He looked at the clock on the opposite wall, which read 10:30. He had never slept in that late before! Braeburn immediately leapt out of bed and rushed to get ready. He neglected to put on his vest and hat for the sake of time and simply grabbed an oatmeal bar to eat as he ran. He had to get there before they left. Not even bothering to lock the door, he sprinted out into the lot and down the road, running in the general direction of the airport.
He reached the tarmac at about ten till, having picked up a taxi on the way, and he once again was thankful that he had grabbed some bits on his way out. He saw the Wonderbolts having a conversation next to the pad, and he looked up and spotted the sky carriage in the distance, coming to take them to the site of their next show in Baltimare.
"Soarin'!" he yelled. "Don't leave yet!" Soarin' looked up in surprise, then attempted to hide his face. Spitfire, the captain of the team, spoke into a walkie-talkie, and Braeburn hoped to Celestia she wasn't calling security. Sure enough, when he got within about 10 yards, he was violently yanked up and back by a burly pegasus stallion in a black suit. But Braeburn was a pony possessed. He writhed against the stallion's strong grip, struggling to get free.
"Let me go! I have to talk to Soarin'!"
"You're not talking to anypony," the guard replied in a deep voice. He turned to carry Braeburn away, but was stopped by Soarin's voice.
"It's alright. Put him down." The guard obliged and Soarin' walked up as Braeburn was set down. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
"I came to apologize," said Braeburn, unable to look Soarin' in the eye. "I'm sorry for the way I acted, and I'm sorry I ran out on you like that. When you kissed me, it was like... It was like the world stopped. And I never wanted it to end. But... it scared me. We felt right together, but that made me scared. I guess I ran because I didn't want to risk a commitment." He finally looked up to see a tear in Soarin's eye.
"But I do now. Soarin', if you'd have me, I'd like to be your coltfriend." There was a pause between them. Spitfire walked up next to Soarin'. She wore a pair of dark sunglasses on her nose.
"Who is this?" she asked in her slightly deep, yet feminine voice. Braeburn looked at Soarin' with huge, sweet, sorry puppy-dog eyes. Soarin's expression was hard, but then it softened and formed a smile.
"That's my coltfriend," he said. Braeburn gasped and jumped up to grab him in a hug. He gave Soarin' a kiss on the cheek and then sat back, trying to compose himself.
"Ahem. Sorry."
"It's alright," said Soarin'. Spitfire elbowed him from his right.
"Soarin', we gotta go."
"Right," he replied. He then turned back to Braeburn as Spitfire and the others got in the carriage. The drivers both looked at Soarin' and Braeburn, waiting for a decision to be made. "Hey," he said to Braeburn, "this might sound a little crazy at first, but... Do you maybe wanna come with us to Baltimare? We just haven't really spent any time together yet. You could stay at my hotel room for an hour or two, then I could call you another carriage to take you home." Braeburn shook his head.
"No, that's alright."
"At least give me your address so I can mail you," said Soarin'.
"Alright. Ya'll got a piece of paper and pencil?" he asked the other Wonderbolts. They all shook their heads no. "No matter," he said. "Easy as apple pie to remember. It's 22 Mane Street, Appleloosa." Soarin' nodded.
"Got it. You gonna remember in case I forget, Spitfire?"
"Just in case," she replied with a smile. Braeburn waved goodbye as they flew off into the distance.
Braeburn left and slowly walked back to the hotel in a romantic daze. He had a coltfriend now. One of the most famous stallions in Equestria, no less! Braeburn chuckled.
"And Cinnamon Swirl said I'd never do any better," he said to himself as he walked. "Yeah, right!" He opened up his motel room door to see the suitcase still semi-unpacked on the bed, the hair products strewn about. He gathered up the shampoos and conditioners and carried them to the shower. It was nice to have running hot water rather than having to fill a tub and heat it over a fire like in Appleloosa.
Braeburn turned on the water and allowed it to reach the proper temperature. Then he stepped inside and began washing. He must have spent three quarters of the time simply washing his mane and tail.
After the shower, he packed up all his things, put on his vest and hat, and walked out the door. He turned and locked it, then returned the key to the front desk. He sauntered off toward the train station feeling very proud of himself. He had to get back to Appleloosa, but he was looking forward to that first letter.
