Shadeless Equestria

As far as the eye can see, sand, with the occasional unsalvageable junk from days of the past. The sun above struck down with terrible heat, distorting the view.

A pink hoof grabbed a rusty coin found on the ground. She dusted it off before dropping it. “Oh, sailing the desert’s sea; it’s the best life for me," she sung softly.

 An earth pony followed the pink mare, a stoic look plastered on his bruised face. He had a pale coat, which contrasted strongly with his orange mane. His voice was dry, but still remained strong. “Don’t you ever shut up?” He wore an old country hat. It was covered with holes.

“It’s not my fault you’re so grumpy all the time.”

He sighed. “Why did I agree to this? I think I could have survived without this promised town.”

“Hey, I’m not lying!” She kicked some sand towards him. “You’re the liar. How do you plan on surviving with only two liters of water in your canteen and no idea of where you’re going?” She giggled. “I swear, it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“Shut it.”

“Oh wow. Very original.” She stopped singing and hummed instead. “Am I still annoying you, oh great savior?”

“Not as much,” he said before taking a sip from his canteen. He noticed the pleading look she gave him. “Want some?”

“How much is left?”

“About halfway through.”

She glared at him and snatched it out of his hoof. “You gonna drink it all? I haven’t drunk in a day. At least save some for me.” She drank continuously.

“Don’t drink it all.”

She didn’t stop.

“Hey!” He grabbed the canteen and pulled hard. After a small struggle to keep it, she let go, and the canteen fell to the ground. “No!”

A mouthful of water poured out on to the sand.

“You dim wit!” He grabbed it quickly and stored it back in his saddlebag. He glared at her. “You won’t drink more out of my canteens.”

Her ears twitched, and her eyes flickered to his saddlebag. Quickly flashing to anger, she yelled, “You drank half of it! And I don’t even have any way to store water, as you shoved me away from the camp without letting me time to pack any of my stuff. You owe me.”

He laughed dryly. “Owe you? I saved you, remember? You owe me,” he said with a serious tone.

She looked down for a second, then pulled her head back up to blow him a raspberry.

He snorted. “Get me to this un-looted town, then we’ll be equal.”

“I guess,” she said with a sigh. “Sorry for snapping at you. And for the wasted water,” she added with a wry smile.

“It’s fine. Just walk, and don’t sing” – his tone turned to one of a beggar – “please.”

They kept on moving, boiling sand under their hooves. She was silent, but tense. Biting her cheek, she looked at his saddlebag with a sideway glance for a brief moment, before looking back at the distance, unblinking.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to talk to,” he said without looking at her directly.

She slowed down to be side by side with him.  “Didn’t you want me to be silent?”

He smiled genuinely. “I did,” he said, now looking in her eyes. “I come off a little harsh, don’t I?”

“Just a bit.”

He licked his dry lips. “I guess that’s what happens when you live for too long in this wasteland.”

“What do you mean?”

“You get a bit… hard skinned.”

She nodded.

“That’s the word. With all the gangs filled with pricks, the righteous groups that thinks they’re better than the rest, stealing their way through life, and I know we all have the toughest lives in the world, but still; no kindness or honest words can be found in these lands. Not from anyone.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s a sickening feeling, but I can’t let myself to trust no one. It’s everypony for themselves.”

“Not in all groups.”

Another dry laugh, followed by a cough. “Oh sure. Look how that turned out for you. I could hear your screams from a mile away. Wouldn’t have even known of your friends’ little camp if it wasn’t for that, but still.”

“Laugh some more will ya.”

He looked hurt. “Hey, I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“I know, I know.”

He relaxed. “Anyway. To sum it all up; I haven’t had a friendly chat with someone since back in my old group.”

“Your old group? I pictured you as a lone wolf.” She turned her tone to one of drama. “Surviving because of your great skills and daring moves!”

“No, no,” he said with a chuckle. “Nothing of the sort. I wouldn’t have survived a day if they didn’t carry me along.”

“What happened to them?”

He looked at the ground. “Well, they showed their true nature. Found a small group, and stole all of their stuff.” He turned to her with a saddened look. “They even had a kid.”

She raised a hoof to her mouth. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. We just left them there, without anything.”

They walked again in silence. A small sand storm was forming.

“You tired?”

“Not really. It’s still day time you know,” she said with a small smile.

He looked at her with a deadpan expression.

She sighed, and dropped to the ground. “Yeah, I’m busted.”

“Good.” He placed his saddlebag on the floor, and unpacked the small tent inside. “You gonna sit there and watch?”

“I guess not.”

The wind grew in strength as they set up camp. She noted the durability of the tissue; it was in perfect condition.

“Come on, get in.” He pushed the canvas aside, letting her step through before following her. “Face away from the entrance. The wind will let some sand get in.”

She looked over to him dubiously. “I’m not a filly.”

He laughed nervously. “Sorry.” He spreaded a large piece of cloth on the ground. “We’ll have to share.”

“You’re so awkward.”

“Hey, it’s as awkward as you make it.” He laid on it, facing the opposite way.

She looked at his saddlebag before laying down as well, looking the other way. “G’night.”

“Good night.”

Lying there, waiting to drift asleep wasn’t the same as usual with someone nearby. Timber Shade was used to move alone, loot alone and sleep alone. It never did felt right. She might’ve started off as kind of annoying, but she was actually kind of sweet. He wasn’t alone anymore, and companionship felt better than he’d like to admit.

Not all ponies were selfish.

He realized something. Never once did he ask her for her name, or gave her his.

His train of thoughts halted as he succumbed to slumber.

He woke up later and noticed that the storm outside had stopped.

His eyes widened.

Getting up hastily, he saw that she was absent, along with the tent and his saddlebag. Only his hat remained, laying in the  sand.

“No.”

A soft wind blew in the distance.

He looked around him, letting a sob escape his throat.

The best lessons are often learned too late.