fly hard

1:02 PM MLT, Wednesday 13th, Month of Festivals, 5CE 1001
Tenement Building, the Foundry, Manehattan

Wild was actually relaxing.
Well, as much as he could, anyway. Glaze had gone to the MHPD Station to research on their enemy, and, as you might expect, a high-profile outlaw like himself would most definitely not be welcome there.
But the building was quiet. Too quiet for Wild’s taste.
Was it the lack of his comradery, the Crimson Saddles? The lack of action? The lack of criminality?
It didn’t matter. The clock on the wall rang 1:30 before Wild heard any noise from the door. Expecting Glaze to finally return, he opened the door.
But it wasn’t him. Rather, a single letter was at the doorstep.
Wild flipped the letter over. This appeared to have been magicked here, as no return address appeared.
He opened it slowly.
My dear Card,

I regret to inform you that you are in jeopardy.
Whoever sent this knew he was here. Wild Card squinted and then continued.

You may wonder where your outlaw brothers and sisters have gone. Search the envelope. You know that Glaze wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.
“What?” Wild dumped out the letter and found a newspaper clipping. The headline read “TWO CRIMSON SADDLES LOCATED AND JAILED”.
“He... tricked… ME?!” Wild, furious with anger, noticed another thing that had fallen out. He picked it up and realized it was his own WANTED poster…
…issued by none other than Glazed Voice of Manehattan.
The letter went on.

By now I reckon you are pretty pissed. Well, I don’t blame you. I’ve been stabbed in the back more times than I can count. But to be totally honest, it’s time to face it. I can get you out of this deep pile of shit. Just go to this address and meet with me and Silhouette. Take this letter and we’ll get out of here. Take whoever you want. We’re leaving in 100 hours.
We’re waiting.
The letter ended abruptly, with an address printed on the reverse. It read simply Top Floor: Sonic’s Office, Mane Fair Hotel, High-Rises, Manehattan.
There was no time to lose. Wild packed his weapons and letter and set out for the Mane Fair.
“Time to give that green-maned shit what for.”