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          Equestian Deadlands - Tales of the West          
                    -by Raised-By-Mice-                    
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                       Ace of Clubs                        
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Ace of Clubs
DISCLAIMER:  
First and foremost, I claim no ownership over My Litte Pony or Dead, they are property of Hasbro and Pinnacle entertainment respectively.
The story is based on a Deadlands game I was working on and going to run, but the group decided to play Pathfinder instead. But rather than toss the story on the back burner I decided to apply ponies.
Now, in my defense this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, please be gentle. On the plus side, I have no where to go but up. At least that's what I'll keep telling myself.
****
The air was heavy with the acrid stench of smoke. Every breath burned my lungs. The air droned with the lifeless cacophony of pipes and hissing steam  
The floor was oddly warm as I lay upon it. Humming with the dull drumming of the engines far below. My blood pooling and growing tacky in the oppressive head. And I felt the warm barrel of the gun pressing against the center of my chest.
My eyes crossed to focus on the elegant barrel of the gun, the carved and gilded filigree that traced through the gleaming steel. So out of place in the soot stained factory. The gun had been lovingly crafted for a single purpose. Its own elegant purpose. I'm sure the bullets were just as well crafted. The gun hung in the purple confines of a magical aura. The magic crackled up and down the finely crafted weapon.
Behind the beautiful gun, a set of steel gray eyes locked firmly on mine. His speckled black mane swept elegantly behind. One lock had come loose, settling down to outline his handsome gaunt features. As though the dislodged lock had been intentional and artfully placed. He was a honed and crafted as the weapon he pressed against my chest. He gave a small pained smile, as though regretting his action. The only part that marred his otherwise gilded features was the shadow of a beard.
No hatred lay in the eyes behind the gun. He was incapable of that. Just cold logic.
“It's pains me to do this.” He spoke softly, tenderly.
I tried to speak, but my broken body refused to respond. My mouth opened, only a pained wheeze escaped.
“Good bye Rose.”
A whisper of a gunshot. I did not even feel it.   
I died in the darkness, next to the dull beating of the machines.  
But this is the end of my story. And we are going to start in the beginning.
****
The busted shotgun dragged listlessly over the cracked dirt. The butt scrapping along, bouncing over rocks and cracking tinder twigs. The wood splintered and the metal buckled, both at angles that offered no hope of every firing again. The spent barrels clattered as they pointed at the empty azure sky and the ever present sun beating down upon baked earth.
I trudged along. Barely finding the strength to lift my hooves. Grit in my eyes, cracked and drying lips. My mane hung limply over my neck, the braid woven loose. What color had been there now stain with road dirt. My coarse tongue brushed over my lips, burning where they had split. Buzzards circled overhead. I could feel their beady eyes on me. One landed on a dead tree overlooking the road. It inched along the branch towards me.
“I ain't dead yet.” I muttered, swinging the battered shotgun towards it. The bird fluttered away with a coarse squat. Damn thing was nearly bigger than the gun. I pushed myself onward, feeling the jean barding I wore chaff against the congealing blood that stained my tan coat. Every breath I took felt like fire in my lungs. Heat and dirt was all I could smell. For that, I was glad, I was pretty sure I smelled damn near dead.
I forced myself to keep moving. Denying the vultures their meal. I could barely cling to the shotgun in my magic. The golden aura flickering and fading along the bent barrel. I had to keep moving. Couldn't stop. Get to town. Get help. Find Dad. Find Dam. Get Help. I focused on my hoof steps. Each beat sending a small cloud of dry dust from the cracked dirt. I could not remember where the road was. I licked my lips again. The copperish taste of blood tinged the tip of my dry tongue. I stumbled as my feathering caught the course twisted scrubs.
My hoof beats faltered, I staggered onwards. One hoof in front of the other. One more step. One more step. My lungs ached as I breathed the dry air. My body ached from exhaustion. I can't stop. It seemed to be getting darker. Maybe night was finally coming.
The cracked and dusty dirt looked strangely comfortable as it rushed up to meet me.
****
I pulled my head out of the water trough. My gold and red mane splaying across my face in an sopping mess. The frigid fingers of water trickled down my neck. Sending shivers through my flanks. It was just barely dawn. The sun a crimson smear across the horizon. Dark purple clouds bruised the edge of the horizon. The moon was still out on the other side of the horizon. It had been that way ever since one princess banished the other to it. Dad said it was due to her learnin' the moon as well. I don't know about that, politics between the princesses never seemed to amount to much, at least not out here in the farming lands. The sky was still black though, and even the cows were asleep. I smiled, feeling the cold morning air cutting to my bones. It was refreshing. Living on a farm with an extended family. It was nice to simply be alone. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with a foreleg. I spat out the hair from my feathering. Grimacing. I'd need to get them trimmed or I'll be walking round covered in burrs. Probably get one of my little sisters to do it. They're always playing with dolls, or braiding each other's mane. I shook my head, shaking loose the plastered hair.
Glancing over my glistening shoulder at the rising sun. Would not be long before the others started to wake. I lowered my head, dipping my hoof into the water and splashing it up at me. Taking a mouthful to rinse out the taste of sleep out and spitting it into the grass.
I cracked my neck as I trotted back to the house. The wooden hinges creaked as I carefully opened the door. Dropping the latch back into place. Slowly I stole across the living room, back to mine and Hay Tail's room. I was the eldest, so I got the second biggest room, and got to pick which sibling I had to share it with.
The room was black, the lone window facing into the fading night. All I saw of my sister was the small lump in the blankets and the straw colored tuft of mane, snoring quietly. I went to my drawers, my golden magic opening the ill fitting wood with practiced ease. I frowned at the empty drawer before looking to the floor. I tugged a set of blue jean barding, sniffing it cautiously. I gagged cross-eyed. The insult to my nose made me toss the jeans away. Probably something I wore last harvest. They fell into a pile in the corner. I picked up the set of jeans that the used ones had been hiding. Another sniff test, passably clean.
I laid out the wrinkled jean barding. Harvest was soon, I'd be a farmhand along two of my brothers and whoever Da hired from town. I tried to straighten the barding on the floor. Trying to iron out the creases with my hooves and magic, before giving up the lost cause and using my magic to wriggle into it. The jeans covered most of me, ending just above my knees. Thankfully it hide my blank flank. On top followed by my brown coarse woven vest, at least that was clean and mostly stainless.
I sat down by the end of the bed. My sister snoring behind me. I used my magic to drag my damp mane over a shoulder. I reached out with my magic, picking up a a towel haphazardly thrown on the back of a chair. Using it to quietly wring out my hair as I listened to the house slowly wake.
First was my dad. Used to be he would always wake first, when I was a filly. I'd wake and find him smoking out on the porch. Cause ma would box his ears in if she caught him smoking in the house. I smiled softly as I heard him creep out. The light beyond the window was getting brighter. I tossed the towel back over the chair. The chair lurched backwards. I reach out with my magic to grab it, not wanting to make a noise. The chair loitered briefly, I thought I caught it before it slammed into the floorboards.  
I glanced over my shoulder to see two amber eyes glaring at me through a yawn. Her hair resembled a wrecked hay bale.  
“'Onestly sis' for once can you just sleep like a normal mare?” She muttered, a foreleg rubbing an eye.  
I stuck my tongue out at her.   
“An' miss all the best bits o' the day?” Hay tail sighed and fell back into the bed with a soft phump. “Bu' seein' as though you's already awake.” I gave a pleading grin, my magic floating the manebrush over to her.  
Hay Tail rolled her eyes and turned over in the bed facing the wall. “Please, I can't braid it, I always get it wrong. Then I'll end up with hay in my mane, and I'll get it in Da bed.” I gave her the ol' puppy dog eyes, as she glared at me from under the blankets. With a tired sigh she rolled back over.  
“Fine!” She cried, grabbing the manebrush in her mouth. Muffling the insults of big unicorn sisters and their poor earth pony servants. I leant back against the wood bed. Feeling her begin to run the comb through my mane. I smiled dimly as she set to work.
“Ya think after this harvest, Da might let me go to the city?” I broke the silence and the comb brushed through my gold and rose mane. My sister said something around the handle, but I knew all her words. We had this conversation before.  
“No, not the town, I mean the City, you know, where they have roads what aren't paved with dirt.” I motioned with my hoof towards the window.  
“I don't think ranch life is meant for me. I wanna see the city. See the world.”  
She muttered something around the hair brush again.  
“I mean, you've been to the town, heard old Thrown Shoe reading the papers. I wanna see a train. I hear they can beat the fastest pony. ”  
Once again a tired reply muffled.  
“Or see them fancy mares in dresses at the galas. Or even see them wagons what drive themselves.”  
Hay Tail spat the hairbrush onto the bed, tugging at my mane with her hooves.  
“Then do it.” She stated firmly. I blinked silently.  
“What?” I managed to whisper.  
“I said go do it.” I tried to turn to look at my sister but she held my mane firmly. Making me stare at the door to the room. “You always moan about how you want to go see everything else. That ranching ain't what you want ta be doing. Then go do something else.” She added, she carefully tugged my unruly mane into a braid. A heavy silence seemed to spread into the room. I opened my mouth to say something but she spoke first.“Ya always talk about it, but Da always talks you down.”  
“Funny, cause he's the one always tellin' them stories about him 'n his friends from way back when.” I supplied with a nervous smile.  
“Yeah, well, you go do that, I'll stay here, I like ranches.” She muttered under her breath.  
“You jus' want the room ta yourself don't ya?”  
“Yeah” She laughed, tying a cord around the tip of the ponytail to keep it in place. “But you'll be old and blank before too long if you stay here.” She added grinning.  
“Why you little-” I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I grabbed a pillow with my magic, flinging it at her. She yelped and dived into the bed. I twisted my grip on the pillow, swinging at her on the bed. Laughing as she dived back and forth to avoid me. “I'll old and blank you.” I giggled at her.
“Alright you two, knock it off, you've already woken up the house.” I heard my Dam call through the door as she opened it. I stifled a laugh, as I took one final swing at my sister. Leaving the pillow where it lay. Innocently smiling at my mother. Hay Tail was still giggling behind her hooves. Her mane and tail a complete mess. She looked around the room. The piles of clothing and assorted collections of junk. “Curse the princess who afflicted me with daughters.” She muttered shaking her head. Her azure wings stretched unconsciously by her side. She was earth bound with another foal on the way. She smiled warmly at her daughters. “Well, since you're awake, you're going to help me with breakfast.” She pointed down the hallway with a wing.  
“Aww, bu-” We said in unison.  
“No if, ands or buts, get moving.”  
I slunk past her, head lowered but still trying to stifle giggles. My sister hopped off the bed to follow. “Not you missy, you're going to go to the pump and clean yourself off first. At least Copper Rose looks presentable.”  
“But I- She wa- Bu-”  
“Not another word, out.” Mum's voice brokered no argument.  
“'S'not fair.” Hay tail muttered as she stalked behind me. Her long tail tangled and knotted. One of the good sides about being born with a docked tail. Just a tumble of a rose and gold tuft. Low maintenance. Wish my mane was the same, without my sister not sure I''d ever be able to sort it out.
I stood in the kitchen, looking out the window at the rising sun. My sister muttered another grievance as she made her way out to the backdoor. I turned from the window as mum trotted into the kitchen.  
“Oatmeal.”  
“Oatmeal?” I felt myself deflate.  
“Oh don't look at me like that, I know you can at least make porridge. 'Side, Da went an' got a little something extra from town.” I cocked my head to the side. She smiled knowingly as I waited. She just nodded as I continued to stare questioningly.   
“Well?” I nodded back expectantly.  
“Oh I'll add it in, you just need to make the porridge first.” I rolled my eyes. First step, rolling the oats. I set about the taste with a rolling pin deftly in my magic. My sister walked up beside me.  
“What can I do?”  
I stopped, glancing over at the sink. My magic pulled the large black stove pot and setting it on the floor near the door. Before grabbing a small cup and hovering it over to her. “Here, fill up half the pot.”  
“But how come you get to roll the oats and I gotta fill the pot?”  
“Cause I'm bigger and older. Now don't get slobber in it.” I grinned, placing the cup on her head. She sighed, walking carefully with the cup balanced.  
I had finished crushing the oats by the time she had finished filling the pot. I hovered the pot onto the stove. Hay Tail was fetching kindling and coal from the basement. I dumped the crushed oats into the water, watching it grow murky white. Dam handed me a wooden spoon with her wing. I smiled at her and used it to stir the pot. When Hay Tail came back I lit the fireplace with a small bolt from my horn.  
“When'd you learn to do that?”  
I glanced up, Dad was leaning on the bottom half of the front door. He was fixing me with a strange appraising glance.  
“I just, sorta did it.” I glanced nervously down at the ground. Not sure if I was in trouble or not.  
He gave a crescent smile, shaking his head halfheartedly. He opened his mouth to speak before he glanced away. He turned back, after the brief pause.“So, what you two making for breakfast?”  
“Oatm-” I began.  
“Three!” Hay Tail corrected glaring at dad.  
“Sorry sprout, what are you three making for breakfast?”  
“Oatmeal!” She grinned.  
“Oatmeal? I can't think of a better way to start the day.” He had an absent smile across his lips. “Stormy, do you think you an' Hay could take over?” He asked, his voice smiled warmly.  
“Of course, dear. Just bring her back in time for breakfast.”  
I stood awkwardly, letting the wooden spoon sit in the heating oatmeal. I desperately tried to remember if I had done something wrong. Was it the spell? Maybe he over heard me and Hay Tail talking? What if he wants to kick me out? My mind went to thoughts of being alone in the city as I walked towards the door.  
“Oh don't look at me like the gallows.” Dad laughed easily as he slid open the door. “I jus' wanna talk.”  
I muttered an apology as I slipped through the door onto the porch. I glanced over to dad but he was still walking. Out towards the water pump.
“I every tell you the time Me an' Dusk blew up them Ranger station?” Dad supplied, breaking the tenuous silence. His emerald eyes grinning mirthfully.  
“Yeah, ya told me that one a' least a hundred times.” I grinned mockingly.  
“I jus'-” He began, before shaking his head, turning to look away into the middle distance. The wind catching his graying hair. “I ain't never been much o' a man o' words, that's always been Radiant's territory.” He scratched his ear absently. “Last year, ya asked ta go inta the city.” I winced, knowing he had overheard me, or Hay Tail had talked to him. “Well, thar comes a time in every mare's life, what she has to make her own decisions. After harvest, before winter I've gotta visit some old friends back up North. What say you to coming along with me?”  
I stared at him. Unsure how to respond. My jaw hunt open as he turned to look at my reaction.  
“Now, ya don't gotta say ya or neigh now, ya can wait, but, I want ya to think it over. See the cities wit' me, before you take off on your own.”  
He wrapped a hoof around my shoulders drawing me in. I could smell old tobacco, dirt, hay and sweat. He smelled like home. I pushed myself free of his grasp.  
“Did Hay Tai-?”  
“No, no, but I sorta figured. An' I dun want my daughter to be an old nag and a blank flank.” He responded bumping my side with a hoof. I blushed sheepishly around a widening grin.  
“Yes, I wanna go, but, will Ma be able ta-”  
“Yer got three brothers, two sisters not ta mention that stripe Anvil's gonna work up and around here while we're gone. They'll be fine, we'll be back before ya know it.” He gave a warm fatherly smile. “Don't you fret none, I got everything sorted out. 'Sides, you're nearly a grown mare, pretty soon you won't be needing your pa around.”  
I tore my eyes from the ground, looking up at him with a grin from ear to ear. “Oh thank you Da!” I giggled, wrapping my fore hooves around him. He tensed, before relaxing. Placing a hoof on my shoulders. I glanced back towards the house over his shoulder. Ma was shaking her head in the door way. Before reaching up and gripping the bell rope with her teeth. She yanked it. Waking those still abed in the house.  
“Come on, before Ma boxes in my ears for stalling her breakfast.”  
I nearly bounced the entire way back.
My twin brothers were already at the table. One barely eating, his head resting on the wood, his eyes closed. Dashing Rain. The other hungrily gobbling down the oat meal. Honey Daze. I grinned as I walked over towards my seat. Hay Tail was next to me, her muzzle stained blue, along with several dollops lodged in her mane.  
“Got buburries.” She grinned around a mouthful of blue oatmeal.  
“It was meant to be a surprise, but I got Da to pick up some dried fruits when he went to get paint, I wanted it to be something special.” She smiled at me, nosing my bowl closer. I gave a greedy grin, using my magic to pick up a spoon.  
It was delicious. Da and Ma were talking, but I barely remember the conversation. Too busy eating far beyond the point of bloatation. I wish I had stopped at thirds.
My stomach reminded me why that was a bad idea when I had to do my chores. Mucking out stables, and tending the animals, feeding, grooming, slapping a new coat of paint on the barn. I groaned, rubbing my forehead, feeling a dull throbbing ache spreading from the base of my horn due to half a long day of magic labor. I grimaced, looking at the barn. One side done, three more left. The sun was still low enough in the sky to barely be out of morning.  
The boy's likely be at school til the afternoon, along with Hay Tail. I was not sure if I envied them or not. Dad keeps talking about school changing the world ever since one opened up in town. But The boys did done nothing but complain about it being boring with too much work. Hay Tail liked recess with the other foals though. Never figured out how the math they taught could be used on a farm.  
I sat the paint can down beside me. Gazing up at my work. I had gotten bored with the painting. Drew a large grinning pony. Now busy trying to cover the smile in enough coats of paint. I could still see the brush strokes through the quickly drying red paint.
There was a noise carried on the dry breeze. A popping crack that whispered across the wind. I glanced away from the drying paint. Was it to the east, back towards town. Maybe some drunk was trying to shoot bean cans. I shrugged turning back towards the barn. Dipping the brush in the red paint again.  
Another sharp cracking noise on the wind, muffled by distance. But it was definitely to the south.  
I turned, a brown cloud was drifting down between the scrub lands. Down the path about a fair distance away, a bunch of ponies in gray were running from a bunch of ponies in dark brown. I wiped the paint brush off on the can. I should probably go tell dad. He would know what was happening. I took another glance backwards. The ponies in gray were turning north. Running like a bat outta hell towards the farm. The ponies in dark brown were slower, one of them seemed to be carrying some large lump on its back.  
“Dad!” I nervously call out. I'm not sure why, I knew he couldn't hear me from the barn. I tapped back and forth between tearing myself away from the sight. I trotted back towards the house. Anxiously building speed until I was running at a full gallop.
Dad was sitting on the porch, nursing a bottle in his hooves. Ma was sat next to him. The sight of me running towards them stopped their conversation. “Dad!” I shouted. He hopped to his hooves.  
“What is it?” He asked, calmly, smiling the same warm smile at me.  
“There's ponies coming, a whole mess o' them. They're running right this way.” I stammered between panicked breaths. Dad looked puzzled briefly, as though he was about to ask a question.  
“Stormy, go inside. Rose, go with here and get the shotgun.” He stated calming. “I'll be right there.” He ran towards the barn, I stood staring as he ran. Wasn't til Ma gave my tail tuft a yank that I remembered what he said.  
“Git inside. And git the gun from under the bed.” She ordered, nearly pushing me inside. Closing the door behind her. I did not hesitate. Scampering through the living room and down the hallway.  
From the doorway I dragged the gun out from under their bed. A small cardboard box slid out with it. I picked it up in the magic too.
Dam was sat heavily in a rickety chair. One leg wrapped around her swollen belly. Her cutie mark, a dove and a gray cloud, was squished against the wooden supports.  
“Ma, do you know what's-”  
“Da will explain when he gets back. Just wait, and set the gun down on the table.” She stated with feigned calm. Gingerly I placed the shotgun on the table. Slowly I paced back and forth. A hundred different episodes running through my head. Most of them involving bandits.  
Dad came bursting through the door, scaring me off my hooves.  
“We don't got much time, they might jus' pass by, but Storm, you an' Rose are gonna go down into the coal cellar.” He stated in a tone that brokered no argument. She nodded slowly. I stared dumbly. His horn glowed orange as the cellar doors in the storage room opened. “Rose, help your mother.” He ordered and I moved on instinct to comply.  
I pulled while she pushed off from the chair. Heaving herself over towards the open cellar. She grimaced at the stairs before carefully going down then one step at a time. I glanced back over my shoulder at dad. He had the shotgun poised in his hooves, pointing at the door. A grim look marring his otherwise smiling features.  
Dam made it down tentatively, pawing at the dark blindly as she made her way away from the stairs. I followed. Glancing back up to the stairway. Da closed the hatch door, leaving us in the dark.  
I could hear my Dam breathing next to me. All I could taste and smell was the heavy coal soot. We did not speak. I could not bring myself to say anything.  
Softly I heard noises. Banging on the wooden door.  
“In the name of Celestia's Concord open up.” Somepony bellowed. I winced back, cowering in the dark.  
“Ye ain't draggin' the war in here, git off mah property.” I heard Dad shout back.  
The was a moment of silence.  
A splintering crash echoed from upstairs. I heard a metallic click. My dad swore, then a meaty thump from the floor boards showering dust into the darkness.  
“Good job, put the farmer in the other room and take up positions, I want a gun covering every window. He'll try to come up from behind with that blasted cannon o' his.” A well spoke pony bellowed orders. I heard dad groan as they moved about, dragging him into the storage room above the hatch. There was a clattering thrown in after him.  
I didn't wait, I heard Dam bite back her words as I ran towards the stairs. I found my footing in the dark, opening the hatch.  
Dad was rubbing his head, two large hoof shaped bruises, one on the side of his face, the other his chest. He spat out a tooth grimly. The shotgun laying haphazardly on the floor. “Dern bastard caught the hammer.” He grabbed the gun.  
“Go back down, we're going out the coal chute. Dun wanna be here with scat flies.” I nodded grimly.  
Silence erupted. I felt a shower of wood splinter against my side. Bouncing off of the jean barding. Then screams. I thought the maw of hell had opened up. The screams ripped through the air around me. A damned cacophony screaming the horrors they would inflict. I thought I had gone deaf but I could hear soldiers bellowing orders. The cracking blasts of rifle fire. I opened my eyes, I didn't realize I had closed them. The wall in the back of the storage room was blown clear through. Through it I could see a pony with a huge contraptions strapped to it. The pony braced itself on the hill. Another next to it was fiddling with the contraption.  
Dad pushed me down the stairs into the dark, him tumbling down beside me. As more screams erupted from above. It sounded as though the air itself was being torn asunder. I felt myself bruise as I tumbled down the worn wood stairs.  
Shakily I stood at the bottom. A hundred cuts and scraps littered my exposed hide, the barding just gave way to bruises. Dad groaned pushing himself up from the hard floor. Dust staining his brown hide.  
“Goin' out the coal chute.” He stated, spitting out a dollop of blood onto the floor. Ma stared at him in a look of horror.  
“Hol' on we'll git you outta here. We'll go north, got favors I can call in up there.” He staggered over towards the grate of the chute. Pulling a latch, then pulling the grate out of the wall.”We're going to need to push and pull her up. Right Rose you-”  
“I'll push, you go make sure the coast is clear.” I was not sure why I said that, I wanted to curl up in a ball and pretend nothing was happening. But Dad fixed me with another strange look. He shook his head before turning towards the hole a thoughtful expression. Picked up the shotgun, passing it over to me, I took it tentatively in my magic from his muzzle before he turned back trotting towards the darkness. I heard him rummaging before returning with a rope.  
“Are you planning what I think you're planning.” Dam asked nervously.  
Dad's replied was muffled by the rope in his mouth, but he nodded. He trotted over to her looping the rope over her side. Tying it into a knot under her forelegs. She opened her mouth to protest, but the sharp retort of gunfire silenced her. Dad staggered back over towards the chute. “Right, I’ll go up, then you pass the rope up. I’ll pull, you push.” I heard him grunting as he climbed up the sloped chute. Before calling back down. “Right, pass the end of the rope up here.”  
I magicked the end of the rope over towards the chute. Dam walked over towards the chute. Dad picked up the slack in the rope. Dam sucked in a breath, taking one cautious step upwards. I gripped her with my magic. Shoving my shoulder against her flank as I tried to get her up.  
My golden aura engulfed her. I could hear Dad struggling up top, amid the gunfire and bellowed orders. I heard Dam’s hooves struggle for grip. I felt like I was being hammered into the floor with each beat of my fluttering heart. Fired claws felt like they were raking down through my horn. I groaned as sweat beaded on my forehead. My eyes screwed shut, focusing on pushing her up.  
Then release. She landed heavily on the side.  
“Alright, Rose come up.” I heard Dad shout over the sounds of war.  
I tentatively walked towards the chute. My body felt like I had been beaten black and blue. I placed a hoof tentatively on the edge of the chute.  
“Come on, I’ll get the rope.” I heard him back away from the opening.  
I sighed softly, willing the feeling away from my limbs. Another deafening silence rocked the house. I heard the groan and screams of the wood. The ceiling gave a sickening lurch inwards. I heard the sound of Dad shouting. A wooden beam snapped above me. My limbs flung be backwards. The wooden shrapnel stabbing the air where I had been. I back pedaled, running towards the stairs. Dust choked he coal clogged air.  
The world erupted as the ceiling sagged and snapped. I dived toward the stair the shotgun skittering along the floor towards the stair. Something slammed into me. I felt the wind leave my lungs. I struggled to breath in the choking air. Something was laying across my side. I heard shouting.  
Then silence.
I opened my eyes. I don’t remember closing them. My head swam. I tried to push myself up. Something lay across me. I glanced back. A wooden beam lay across my back. I was surprised I wasn't broken. I tried to grip it with my magic. My horn ached and burned, but managed to scramble out as it shifted its weight off of me. One of my hoofs kicked the shotgun down a step. I stared at it in the near darkness, barely illuminated by my golden magic. Slowly I gripped it in my aura. I felt safer with it.
I was on the stairs. Dimly I remembered what had happened. My stomach lurched back and forth. I grimaced looking over my shoulder. Most of the house had caved in. Looks like the stairs was damn near the only thing that survived. I carefully pulled myself up, each step disturbing dust and making the boards creak and groan. I winced with each step. Casting glances upwards at the bulging ceiling.
The hatch door groaned as I pushed against it. Took all my effort to inch it open. Pushing away the debris and rubble. I held a breath as it the refuse broke free dislodging a plume of ashen smoke. I gagged, raising a hoof to my mouth, breathing through my feathering. My eyes slowly adjusted. Daylight seared through the gaping holes in the wall and roof. The wooden house little more than a charred skeleton. I could smell the acrid burning stench. And blood. Lots of blood. The metallic haze hung in the air. I fought to keep my stomach from vomiting. I dry heaved, doubling over. Brought me face to face with a puddle of blood. It was tacky and dark. My eyes widened as I traced it back to its source. The broken body lying under the fallen wall looked barely like a pony. Charred flesh twisted and contorted. I backed away slowly. The shotgun floating hesitantly next to me. The body looked like it was screaming. As my eyes adjusted to the smoking gloom. I saw more of them. Bodies twisted, broken and burned.
I backed out the front door, eyes locked on the twisted bodies. I could feel the heat of the sun through my barding. I tore my eyes away from the smoldering wreck. Looking up. Azure skies, empty from edge to edge in the vast scrub land. The sun sat high in the sky, burning the land. My eyes followed the path of the sun downwards. A thin black column of smoke marred the horizon. The barn was still smoking. Smoldering. The earth around the farm was littered with large craters and fallen bodies, twisted, mangled. Grey barding on all of them. On their shoulders they wore a heavily stained sunburst. I did not want to get a closer look. The shotgun span back and forth with me.
“Dad!” I called out, my voice hoarse and dry. Barely a ragged whisper. “Dad, where are you?” The wind blew in silent response.
I started walking. North. Walking turned to running. Dad would go North like he said. To town. He would get help. I could find him on the road. He and dam would not have gotten far, I could catch up. They would not leave me here. I was running, down the dirt path. The smoldering wreckage behind me.
I tried to keep running, chasing the idea that I would come across Dad on the road. Exhaustion and heat forced my gallop to a trot, then my trot to a crawl. I was panting, sweat beading against my barding. I shoved the shotgun through a loop in the jeans. Letting my magic rest, and hoping it would lessen the throbbing headache emanating from my horn.
****
The world burned beneath the blazing sun. I was panting, and trotting at a crawl along the dirt road. I swayed back and forth on my legs with each step. My barding dried faster than I could sweat. I was half tempted to take it off. I could not find the energy to perform the simple task. Not sure how long I had been trotting. I wanted to find Dad then curl up and pass out. A full days travel to the town.
In the distance I saw two shapes milling around a bent dead tree. My hooves kicked the dust into a flurry behind me. My legs stumbled not long after my short sprint. Leaving me nearly tumbling along the road.
As I got closer I could see the shapes. Three ponies, none of them one I knew. Just earth ponies.
“Hey, Hey mister, you see a brown earth pony and a teal pegasus walkin'?” I called out to the trio of ponies that stood together under the shade of a lone tree. One of them looked up, nudging the others with their hooves. Three earth ponies. I stood at the edge of the road as they trotted closer. I'm pretty sure I smelled like death.  
“Wassa pretty filly like yerself doing out here all alone?” One of them crooned. A gray pony with a beaten stetson. Probably a cowpony.  
“I was looking for my Da, earth pony, brown coat, white mane, green eyes.”  
“Sorry, I don't recollect any brown an' white earth ponies.” An orange one smiled sickly sweet through missing teeth.  
“Oh, well, that's okay, I'll just be on my way then.” I backed away nervously. I felt my tail tuft hit another one. The third, a large rust colored earth pony. Did not see him come around behind me. I tried to give a sweet disarming smile. He returned with a dumb vicious grin.  
“Ain't white one o' them Celest's colors.” The rust colored pony supplied.  
The orange pony grinned. “I reckon they is, I reckon they is. Don't suppose she's a Celest spy now do you?” He spoke to the gray pony.  
“I dunno, might could be she is.” He smiled.  
“Weren't our orders to capture and turn over all prisoners, might be worth some bounty money?” The orange pony gave another toothless grin. He turned side on, a leather holster ran around his midriff. Each side holding an ugly pistol. My eyes widened.  
“Might be we should have some fun, before Ol' Black gets 'is turn.” The gray one grinned back at the orange.  
“Lookee here, this dumb filly gone and got herself iron.” The large rust colored pony spoke with a slur. He reached down, grabbing the shotgun from by belt. I felt my heart beating a thousand beats a moment. My magic lashed out, grabbing the shotgun from the earth pony's teeth. . I lunged away from the buck. The orange pony's eyes widened, reaching down and grabbing the pistol with ease. He leveled it at me. The rust colored one stayed on my left. I couldn't point the shotgun at all three.
We stood in silence. The orange buck pointing the pistol at me. The shotgun pointing at them. I hesitated. “Right, so, jus' leave me alone and no pony gets shot.” I tried to sound forceful and strong, yet my voice squeaked around the heart in my throat. The gray pony laughed. He took a confident step towards me.  
“What are you? Barely a mare, some farm filly wit fire in yer belly. Ya don't got it in you. We're soldiers.” Each word he took another step closer. I span around to face him. The shotgun following suit. The magic flickered and shook. He grinned confidently. “Yer just some foal with britches-” He reach out with a hoof to take the gun away. The hammer struck down. The shotgun barrel roared in front of his face. He fell convulsing. I heard the bang from the pistol. The rusty pony reared his hooves to strike. The shotgun twisted round. The other barrel singing in rapport with the ringing in my ears. The large buck fell with a gurgling cry. The pistol fired again. A line of fire erupted along my flank. The shotgun leveled itself at the orange buck. Both hammers clicked. The shotgun remained silent. The pistol fired again. It sliced through my shoulder. The shotgun twisted in the golden aura. Rising and slamming down against the orange's buck's neck. There was a shattering sound. The wood on the stock snapped. The buck's neck bent at the wrong angle.  
I was panting. The rusty pony lay gurgling from the concave hole in the barrel of its chest. The gray had already fallen still. The orange buck lay motionless. His mouth opening and closing. I fell to my knees, dry heaving but nothing wanted to come up. Acid bile burned my throat. I felt my sides ache, burn and grow damp.
My body protested as I stood. I ran. I ran like hell itself were chasing my feathers. I turned right abandoning the road. They could find me there. The shotgun hovered anxiously as I ran. Felt like fire was poured along my flanks. Yet I ran.
In the dry scrub land sun I stumbling headlong through the bushes. I felt thorns prick and tug at my barding and my feathering. But I kept running.
****
My lungs burned, I was not sure how long I had been walking. The broken shotgun dragged beside me\ now. My broken and bleeding body protesting to every hoof fall. Each step sending a lance of fire up my right leg and flank. I pressed harder. The right side of my body was tacky and the stench of blood hung heavy in the air. I felt myself drifting side to side, fighting to keep walking. I was not sure where. Anywhere. Dad and Dam would be on the road, maybe they would find me.  
My knee burned where it struck a rock. I pushed myself off the ground. When had I fallen. The sky seemed darker in the empty blue. I staggered once again. Barely keeping myself upright. My leg wobbled back and forth. I glanced up at the sky. The sun beat down against me. I turned, continuing. Anywhere. Anywhere my hooves would take me.   
I realized my hooves would not take me far as I collapsed upon the dusty ground. I landed on my right leg, crushing the weeping wound into the dirt. I gasp against the pain. I struggled to get the leg out from under me. But each breath came slower than the last.  
Eventually I forgot why I was struggling. It felt cold now. I opened my eyes. It was dark. The sun had been there a moment ago. Yet all I remember is cold. And the stench of blood. And empty listless eyes.  
I closed my eyes to avoid looking at the void.
Yet, despite myself I opened them again. A fire crackled nearby. On a dusty tattered mat lay several tools. Blood coated the gleaming metal. I smelled, dirt, tobacco and sweat.

//-------------------------------------------------------//
                      Deuce of Clubs                       
//-------------------------------------------------------//
Deuce of Clubs
DISCLAIMER:  
First and foremost, I claim no ownership over My Litte Pony or Dead, they are property of Hasbro and Pinnacle entertainment respectively.
If there is anyone reading this, I'll try to update faster. I get distract by pretty colors and shiny objects. And if there isn't anyone reading this... well I'll be talking to myself. If I do it enough people might think it's normal.
****  
****
The silent scream of the cannon ripped through my mind. My heart hammered in my chest. I was running. I felt myself running. My hooves slamming against the dead earth. Clods of dirt flying behind me. Running. I struggled to breath, it felt like my lungs were on fire.   
I knew Dad was ahead of me. The sky was an angry red and green wound. Lighting and rain lashing out towards the earth. I kept running, running towards Dad.   
“Cooper!” A whispered shout of his voice echoed through the stagnant air. Dad's voice. I was running. They called to me. My family, all of them. “Copper.” They kept calling. The silent screaming of the the gun shattered the earth around me. I bit back tears. My hooves tearing at the earth. I could not stop, they would catch me. I had to get to Dad. I kept running.  
Unable to close the distance.   
Yet I kept running.  
“Wait” I tried to scream, but the wind stole my words. Tears burned down my checks.  
I kept running.  
“Dad!” I tried shouting again, my voice growing hoarse over the roar of the screaming. I felt my legs turn to lead. Each step faltering as I tried to keep running. Dad was turning away. Dam was running.   
I fell to the ground. I couldn't run. I crawled, one hoof dragging me along the sodden barren ground under the sickening roiling skies. Rain splattered against the thirsty ground.  
The screaming silence ended. The rain boomed in the void. I heard fired hoofsteps behind me. I twisted on the ground, trying to crawl faster. I heard sizzling from the ground, and smelt burnt earth Each hoofstep getting closer. It was ontop of me. A hoof burned when it grabbed my side. Rolling me over. Eyes closed I screamed.
***  
***
I screamed, my hooves tangled in the blankets. I thrashed. I felt my side tighten and a sharp burn. My eyes widened in the darkness. My heart hammered against my chest as my spine ran cold.
I gave a strangled start. Sitting bolt upright. Dad, the barn, Dam, Hay Tail, my brothers. I wanted to scream but my voice could not find the way. I sat, panting, my hooves gripping the blanket. I glanced over to Hay Tail, worried I had woken her. Dusty arid dirt greeted me. I looked down at the blanket. No, a duster, a brown duster. I looked up. The sun had stained the horizon crimson. Oh Luna, I knew where I was. There was a heat on my right. I glanced to my side. A scrawny colt stared back at me. Off grey coat, and a choppy blue and off purple mane. He was holding a shotgun in his hooves. My shotgun. The shotgun that killed three ponies. It looked like he was fixing it. Empty bile rose in the back of my throat.  
I threw up.  
Correction, I tried to throw up. My stomach roiled and twisted. Nothing but bile and water came out.  
“Whoa there girl.” A gravelly voice spoke. I glanced away from the terrified foal. A figure loomed up over the fire. The flicking shadows illuminated the fired orange eyes. His hair seemed to blaze in the fires. My heart slammed against my chest. The devil himself stepped around the fire. Shadows dancing over the brown coat and fiery mane. I gasped. Terror running ugly claws down my back.  
The ground met me once again in the darkness. But I did not dream.
***  
***
I was awake. I groggily tried to push myself up. Again. It was still night.  
“Wouldn't be doin that if I were you partner.” A gruff, gravelly voice called out from the darkness. I opened my eyes to a hazy glare of the same campfire. I lay back down closing my eyes. My mouth tasted tacky and dry. “Surprised yer still wanting to get on yer feet after finding ya like that.” My ears flicked back and forth as I squinted trying to see him past the glare of the campfire. “But, seeings as how you're awake I suppose I'll take it as a sign I know what I'm doing when it comes to pulling ponies back together.” I heard him grin.  
“W-who...” I began, my throat ached, raw and burning. “Ww-ah... water.” I managed to whisper.  
“Ah yes, Silver, be a good lad and get some water would you?” I heard hoofsteps walk away, a scraping noise as something was picked up. “But, ya shouldn't be talking. Don't want you to bust a stitch again. Seems as though I should tell ya mine name, seeing as how I'm the one doing all the talking.” He paused, I heard him smile again. The silence dragged on before I realized he was looking for a response.   
I nodded weakly.   
“Ah good, you are still awake then.” I opened my eyes struggling to keep them focused. An orange and grey maned unicorn stepped into view. He wore a black duster as barding. On his shoulder was a orange sunburst and a crescent moon. Each side by side. He wore a brown stetson. A hole through the brim for his horn. But his mane seemed to dance in the firelight, beckoned by an unseen wind. “Most call me Reverend, but you can just call me Daze if you like.” He turned his head. Spitting a black glob of something into the darkness. “And mah boy's name is Silver Luck.” He smiled once again.  
Just my luck, rescued by a preacher. I blinked slowly, my eyes burning under their lids. It felt like I had not slept in a week.  
I heard hoofsteps coming back.  
“You got that from the stream right?” Daze stated more than asked.  
There was a muffled reply of somepony talking with their mouthful. “Good, now go pour the mare a drink.”  
I was tired, I let my head rest against, I think it was a saddle bag. My eyes closing of their own accord.  
I nearly fell asleep before I heard a scuffing sound as mug was placed before me. I opened an eye. Reaching out with my magic cautiously. My flickering golden aura gripped it. I pushed myself up with a good hoof, taking a sip. It had never tasted so good. I took another quick sip, feeling it working through the tacky dusty coating of my mouth, before draining the mug. I gasped for air after, letting a satisfied sigh escape my lips.  
“What's your name.” Daze asked after a long pause to let me finish.  
“C-Copper Rose.” I replied my throat still dry despite the water.  
“Well it is a pleasure ta meet you Copper Rose. But you should get some sleep, we'll talk more in the morning.” Daze stated. I blinked lopsidedly with a yawn. That sounded like a much better plan.  
I did not remember laying my head down.
***  
***
I woke slowly, I did not remember dreaming. I yawned, and tried to sit up. I swallowed dryly. Still felt like I had licked half of the scrubland.  
Daze's was voice, calm and even. “Come on, take a glass to wash the taste out.” A mug hovered out in a crimson aura. I took it gratefully in my hooves, taking a swig, swishing, spitting then draining the rest of the cup. My stomach coiled around the water, demanding food instead. My mind kept drifting back to the eyes staring into the void.  
“Come on, was about to wake you for breakfast. And... uh, don't worry 'bout the duster, it needed to be thrown out anyway.” I looked down, realizing I had thrown up on it. I inwardly shuddered realized I had slept like that.  
“S-sorry.”  
“Don't worry 'bout it. Look like you've gone through hell and back. Figured you would care more about catchin' a chill than a bit o' muck.” He gently pressed a hoof against the nervous colt. “This here's Silver Luck by the by, didn't expect you'd meet him quite like that.” He offered a generous smile. “Got a pot o' black and stew ready when you're liken to do more than lay away.” He turned trotting back to the camp fire. A pot hung over the blackening flames.  
I turned to look at Silver Luck. He regarded me in turn warily.  
“Uh, sorry. Bad dream.” I muttered, pushing myself up from the ground. My body ached in response.   
My barding was filthy. I could see where the bullets had struck. He blue jeans around the spot stained heavily with blood. There was an ugly red wound under each bullet hole. I could see black lace tugging my tan coat together. Guess the Sire had patched me up.
The meal consisted of a watery barley and vegetable soup. Tasted like burlap, but any food was better than no food. The second bowl quelled my stomach. My horn just ached and ached. I held the bowl in my hooves, draining it eagerly.  
“So, you coming from Dusty Rhoads?” He asked, a touch of concern marring his voice.  
“No, close by though.” I hoarsely replied. Taking a quick sip from the broth before continuing. “Farm got torched, some soldiers decided to shot at eachother.” I looked up at the Sire. “Don't suppose you saw a mare and a stallion coming through this way?”  
“Sorry, been off the roads.”  
“Brown coated stallion, grey mane, and a compass as a mark. And a blue mare, with a dove and storm cloud mark.”  
Daze shook his head solemnly. “Sorry, haven't seen any. Soldiers put the town to the torch, figured you for a survivor o' that.”  
“They attacked Rhoads?” My heart stopped cold. A empty sinking pit in my chest. They had been in school. I leapt to the thought of my brothers and Hay Tail.   
“Yup, bout a day or two back, me and Luck came passing through. The stallion and mare, they kin to you?” He lowered his gaze apologetically.  
“Yeah, house fell before I could get out. I... I think they got away.” I shook my head, I had to find out what happened to Rhoads. “At the town, were there survivors?”  
Daze glanced up, meeting my searching eyes. “Looked that way, most of the town cleared out before the soldiers showed, but I didn't stay long there.”  
“So survivors might've gotten away.”  
“Might could be they did.” Daze responded.   
“I had kin going to school as well. Figured they might've gotten away.” I tried to bite back the lump in my throat.  
“Prolly, but iffen so, they would've gone with the others. Dusty Rhoads is damn near the only town in hoof distance south. So I suspect they'd go north, might stop near Sandy Rock, trading town, doubt the war'll be going that far north ta follow 'em. Stop there for supplies, straight shot to Coyote Creek then they might make it to Stone, that'd be where I'd go. Especially if I had to hoof it. Practically the only way into Equestria this side of Dragonback. Best place ta look fer someone.”  
Stone... where is that?” I cautiously asked, I had never farther than Rhoads. Course, the ranchhooves always had a tale or two from their big drives. Stone was a mining city near the mountains that separated the dry scrub lands from central Equestria. My heart fluttered nervously in my chest. Terrified of the thought that maybe Dad or dam went back to the farm, or the thought of my siblings left in the care of some stranger.  
“Bout a few day's trot from Coyote Creek iffen you're fast and got a good wagon.”  
“Hoofin'?”  
“Week maybe.”  
“From Sandy to Coyote Creek?”  
“A few days on hoof at a march.”  
“Here to Sandy rock?”  
“Can't be more than a hoofful of days.”  
I sat the bowl down on the ground cautiously. Staring at the scraps of the broth that remained. Stone, that's where Dad'd go, north through the mountains. North to Equestria. That's what he said. I'd travel. Maybe somepony in one of the towns saw them. I'll find Dad, Dam, Hay Tail and the twins. A stray thought bayed at the back of my mind. Everything was back at the ranch. Including all my bits. I sighed in defeat. But I was kinda closer. I'd find a way there.   
“So, about two weeks to Stone?” I asked softly.  
“Eeyup.” Daze responded flatly. He let the silence build. I figured I could survive off the land well enough, we had berry bushes near the farm, and grasses, I'm sure I could make it north. Maybe I'll meet Dad there. I winced at the thought of getting lost and dying. No, I'd find Dad, just had to keep walking north. I'd find them.  
“Well, we know the way, been avoidin' the road to keep outta the soldiers. You could come with, we were heading that way.” Daze supplied breaking my train of thought.  
“R-really?”  
“Of course, can always use extra company. Gets mighty lonely having a herd o' two.” He smiled.  
“Uh, sure, I'll come with you.” I glanced tentatively down at the dead fire. “Thanks.” I added, Daze nodded with an elderly smile.  
“Sides, not gonna let a mare wander around alone.”  
“Thanks.” I muttered glancing away from the fire and gray pony.
Silver Luck just stared at me. I cocked my head, meeting his gaze. He seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking about, glancing away sheepishly before moving to pack away the camping materials.
“How are you feeling?” He was spoke softly.   
“I'm fine.”  
“Tha's good to hear. Sides, needed ta make sure I got the infection out. Had to stitch 'em back up after yer episode.” He sniffed the air pointedly. “An, ya need to make sure you go down to the gultch and make sure you wash yerself, I know yer farmponies are all fer getting' dirty, but I'll have none o' it.” He flashed me a toothy grin. I waited til he turned away before sniffing my barding. I gagged. I stank like a corpse at high noon.  
I snuck away to the stream while the other two were busy. I had the decency to take the duster with me. The stream was a little ways from the camp. But hidden by the embankment. I made sure I had some privacy before trying to take off my jeans. Actually, I had to peel my jeans off of me. It looked like the Sire had stitched without taking off my barding. I winced as I peeled dried blood soaked jeans from my pelt. Gingerly trying not to touch the angry red stitches.  
Oh sweet Celestia, the blood was not all mine. I could see chunks in the jean, bits that were not from me. Biting back the urge to vomit I used my magic to plunge the jeans into the stream. Ringing them through the cold flowing water. I shuddered, closing my eyes as I set to the task. If I didn’t think about it, did not think about the three bodies, staring lifelessly up at the sky. I would be fine. Soldiers, I knew what they had intended. Just, don't think, don't think about it. I checked the jeans as they squirmed in the flowing water. Floating the jeans back to me for inspection. The blood had washed out to a faded brown. But it was better. Least the water took the edge off the corpsey smell. I set the barding out on a near rocky cropping. Hoping the sun might dry it off. I repeated the procedure with the duster. The bile had peeled off the worn in layer of dirt. It looked no better when I placed in on another rock. Finally myself. Just don't think. I took several hesitant steps. My foreleg forcing me to limp with each. I decided to sit down in the shallow steam rather than wade out.
I gave a gasp as the cold bit my nethers. But it woke me up. I swallowed through a grimace and set to wiping as much blood away as possible. Using my magic to splash cupfuls of water on my hide and my hooves to knead out as much of the grime as possible. For the most part my coat stayed the same color. Maybe a smidge lighter. Just don't think. Don't think about the gun shots. Don't think about the last sight of Dad or Dam. Waking up in the burnt shell of the house. Don't think about the twisted bodies. Or the spray of warm blood from the shotgun. I heard the shout of the gun. Twice. Then the crack of broken wood and the sickening crunch as the other collapsed. I pushed myself up, wading farther out into the stream. My scraps and cuts burned in the cold. My tufted tail shivered uncontrollably before I jammed my head under the water. The shock bit deep into my bones. Find Dam, find Dad. I'll find Hay Tail and my brothers. I'll find them. Just don't think. Please don't think. I focused on just the cold of the water, the sounds of the rushing currents. The feeling of the eddies and currents wrapping cold fingers around my legs. Silence out the world. Just don't think.   
My burning lungs told me to take a breath, forcing me from my respite. Slowly I waded back to the shore. My mane dripping wetly.
The jeans were far from dry. They squelched clammily as I put them on. I gave a soft sigh, sitting on the ground. Staring out at the surface of the gully. I awkwardly rubbed the back of my forehoof. The feathering was covered in burrs. From my running. Running away from the three ponies I left beneath a old bent tree. Just don't think. I pushed the thought away. I leant down, biting on one of the knots and trying to tear it out. Oh god it tasted foul. I gagged and jabbed my hoof into the flowing water, as though trying to shake the knot off.
I shivered despite the warming sun. Stretching as I stood up, shaking my tufted tail out. The braid in my mane had come undone, leaving me with a tangled mess of hair. My horn glowed as I gripped my mane, the horn twinged slightly but felt better. I drew my mane out into three locks. I tried braiding it over my shoulder. I pursed my lips, concentrating. Over, under, over under. That was how Hay Tail did it. Hay Tail always used the comb though. She'd do it in the morning before work. I felt my heart grip tight. I pushed the thought away. I'll find her. Just don't think about anything else.
I tugged the mane tight. It was loose, shoddy. I looked at the tangled end of the braid. “Crap.” I muttered. I did not have anything to hold it in place. I had a ribbon in it before, not sure where it had gone. I unwove the braid and pushed it over one side of my neck. Figured that would keep it in check. I shook myself again. I winced at my stitches. I dragged my vest off of the rocks. Pulling it on. Damp and uncomfortable.
“Hey! You drown? Day light's a-burning!” Daze called from over by the camp.  
I glanced up towards the sound of his voice. I shook my head, pushing myself up and walking.  
Just don't think about it.
***
The campsite has already been mostly cleared away. Didn't see Daze, but Silver Luck was leaning against a cragged and dead tree.   
I walked, somewhat unsteadily. My legs still feeling leaden. Questions buzzed around my headache.  
Most of the Sires I had met had been far more civilized. And would usually not wait before nagging your ears off about one of the princesses.  
Silver seemed, quite.  
I carefully made my way over to the colt.  
“So... he's a Sire?” Silver did not respond. Before the silence drew on he turned gazing up at me with large steel colored eyes. Almost expectantly. I hesitated, scratching the back of my bad leg with my good hoof. “So, he follows Luna or Celestia?”  
Silver shook his head.  
“Another royal then?”  
Silver shrugged.  
“Been travelling long?”  
Silver gave a noncommittal nod.  
“Like traveling?”  
Silver shrugged again.  
“Not much for words are you?”  
Silver shook his head.  
“Riiight.” I muttered. He looked down at his hooves. The silence stretched on awkwardly, making my skin crawl.
“Sorry, he's not much of a talker with new people.” Daze spoke. My heart skittered to a stop and I damn near leapt outta my hide. Daze laughed shaking his head casually. “Sorry, didn't figure you were so jumpy. But makes sense what with being shot.” He gave an idle smile.  
I tried very calmly to pry my heart from my throat.   
“Uh, that's okay, he a mute?” I managed to croak out afterward a moment of respite.  
“No, just on occasion ties his tongue. He'll come aroun'. Getting' him ta shut up is the hard part.”  
“Right, so... we're heading north?” I pointed with my hoof.  
“Yeah, but north is the other way.” He responded with a mirthful grin. I gave a ghost of a smile. He adjusted a shoulder strap with his mouth. Looked like he was carrying most of the supplies. Surprised he didn't have a one pony wagon.   
“You want any help?” I suggested, half afraid he would take me up on the offer.  
“No, been travelling much longer, this is light nuff.” He tightened a final strap. “'Sides, daylight's a burning.” Daze sighed. He began trotting off towards the real north. Silver Luck fell in beside him. I had not seen the colt move from the tree. He really was quiet. After a moment, I trotted to catch up.   
He trotted on one side of the Sire, I walked on the other. Each step made the jeans press against the bullet wounds. I grimaced and kept trotting.   
Just don't think about it..
***
I broke the silence first.  
“So, what's Stone like?”  
“Hmmm?”  
“I said, what's Stone like?”  
“Rocky.” I deadpanned a glare at him. He grinned, turned and nearly spat over his shoulder. He hesitated mid hurl when he saw Silver. He glanced back and forth before leaning down and spitting into the dirt. I gagged somewhat at the sight. “It's a mining town, one thing they have is a lot of rocks. Probably a bit more industrial than Dusty Rhoads. Last I heard they stuck silver and gems, so they is a bit of a mad dash for claims up there.” He took a moment to continue chewing. “But, it's been a bit since I went up that way. Been traveling elsewhere.”   
“So, you travel a lot? I thought priests were meant to be the settle down type, you know, with a herd.”  
The old fired orange pony laughed. The silver colt let out a snort. “What?”  
“No, no, just, I ain't one for settling down. Might be a Sire, but I ain't liken to leading a herd. Consider me a traveling preacher. I go where I am needed. The princesses guide my path.”  
“A wandering preaching pony.” I rolled the idea over. “That's... different.”  
“Oh? I'm sure I am many things more than just that.” He laughed.  
“You're the weirdest Sire I ever met.”  
“Probably why I wander rather than stay put.” He mused idly.
My pace was lagging, my foreleg kept screaming at me with every step. I grimaced, keeping in step with Daze. But I forced myself to keep trotting. The burrs were digging into my skin under my feathering, itching like mad. But A small annoyance compared to the ache from my two gun shot wounds. I thought back to the talking with the Ranchhooves. They made getting shot sound like a death sentence. Hurt like hell, but I felt alive. Maybe the Sire was a doctor before he took to the cloth. I swallowed around the dust coating my mouth. Glad he found me. But why was he wandering out here? Or maybe he just liked mares in distress.
“Why are you going to Stone?”  
“Got hooves, will wander.”   
I stared at him. Unsure how to respond. “You're a weird Sire.” I muttered in response.  
Daze's smile faltered faintly. I winced inwardly. Afraid I had insulted him. He slowed in his pace. “What's that.” He motioned with his horn. A column of black smoke rose on the horizon.
***
The bones lay strewn through the grass. Cattle. Likely a herd. Enough farmpony in me to recognize a cow when I see it. The corral was busted and charred. I could see a trail of bones leading up to it. I felt my limbs freeze, refusing to take a step closer.   
“War?” The word squeaked past the   
“Black Jay's work.”  
“Black Jay?”  
“The Night Court's rabid captain. Likely they sent 'im up north to stir trouble. Probably pushing to bring the war into full swing again. Or to keep him from trouble in their backyard.” Daze muttered bitterly. “He's the one what attacked Dusty Rhoades, an prolly yer farm as well.”  
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly unbearably dry.  
“Shouldn't we be going? What if we meet somepony.”  
“Won't be soldiers around, this is old work. Before Dusty Rhoads. Black Jay's band won't be anywhere nearby.”  
I took a hesitant step forward. The ground in the corral was scorched and trampled. The blackened earth churned by hundreds of hooves. All going round the inside of the corral. Like a stampede.  
“They set it on fire.” I realized numbly.  
“Yes.” He stated mutely, Silver stood silently at his side. I took another step closer.   
“I would not if I were you.” He stated calmly.   
“There might be someone in there.”  
“There won't be.”  
“How do you know?”  
“Trust me, there won't. Black Jay don't leave survivors.”  
I shook my head, backing away from the smoldering wreckage. I tried not to picture the herd trapped by the burning corral.   
As we continued around the wreckage. I kept picturing myself in the basement. Trapped, how long had I been unconscious. Maybe someone could have saved me. Maybe I would have gotten out sooner. Maybe I would have found Dad and Dam by now. I shook my head. Black Jay doesn't leave survivors.   
“Wait... we-.. I have to check it. I jus' wanna be sure.” I spoke softly.   
Daze sighed “I told you, he doesn't leave survivors.”   
“He left me.” I protested  
Daze sighed again before nodding. I backed away from them, trotting cautiously to the ranch. The black cracked wood cracked under my hooves.   
“Hello?” I called out nervously. I took several steps forward. I could taste the stench of old smoke in the air.   
“Hello?” I called out again. Walking towards the door of the ranch. It was black and warped from the fires. Large wooden beams had fallen infront of it. I used my magic to drag them away. Grunting with the effort I managed to clear the wreckage. The door was jammed shut, I had to buck it open. My stitches twisted angrily at me. A black plume of ash and smoke boiled out from the doorway. I gagged on the dead smoke. Squinting to see through the gloom. “Hello?” I called out. Waiting, wishing to hear something. I took a step in. Slowly my eyes adjusted. There were scratch marches etched into the floor. The door had knocked a twisted body aside. The hooves were split. The metal shoes warped and twisted on the floor. Farther back, another skeleton held a small bundle of bones in her legs, barely a foal. There was nothing, bones, charred wood, nothing left of the ponies, or even of the family that had been in here.   
I backed away slowly.
Daze's hoof made me jump when he placed it on my shoulder.  
“I told you, it was not going to be pretty.”  
“But...”  
“Black Jay is a tyrant at best. Lets keep going. Yer dah's liken to be leaving you behind if you wait any longer.” The words made my heart ache. Slowly the old buck drew me away. I hung my head staring at the dry ground as we trotted.
***
Coyote creek was a small town. Built along the road north. Dusty, old and tired. There were a few tents pitched up near the barns and the outer circle around town. I searched through the faces, trying to spot Dad or Dam. A lot of tired, worried faces. Few meet my searching gaze.   
Daze kept walking. He shook his head dishearteningly. But kept trotting down the main street into town.
The sign above the inn Daze walked into depicted a diamond dog and a tankard. There were letters below but I could not read them. We were farmers, just always seemed there was something else that needed to be done instead. My brothers, even Hay Tail could though. She used to read me stories. I shook my head, pushing the memory away and stepped through the batwing doors.
A pony played a simple tune on the piano. The air smelled hot and stale with a stain of alcohol. The place looked like it had been nice, a while ago. A few ponies sat at once polished tables, mugs or bottles sat infront of them.   
“Well, I'll be, Daze that you?”  
“Good to see ya again Dew.” I turned to glance over towards the bar. Daze and the barkeep broke up their hug. The barkeep was a lanky stallion with a white coat and a brown mane. A dirty stained apron hung down his front.  
“Celest, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were younger.”  
“Apple a day.” Daze smiled jokingly. “We were looking to spend the night.”  
“You have great timing as always, had a caravan leave, freed up a room.”  
“Perfect, we'll take it.”  
“Last door on the right. Can't miss it.” The barkeep grabbed a key from behind the bar. Sliding it across the wood to Daze. His picked it up in an orange aura.   
“We need to go unload out things for the time being.” Daze spoke as he turned towards the stairs.
I waited til we got to the stairs. “Friend of yours?”   
“I helped him outta a rough patch a while back, done right by me ever since.”
The room was sparse. Two beds and a footlocker at the end of each one. Daze walked into the room followed by Silver Luck. I trotted happily towards the bed. Sitting down with a long sigh. My hooves throbbing angrily at their treatment.
“So, we going look for my Dad and Dam here?” I asked. I did not want to spend any longer than I had to here. Not if Dad or Dam were in town.  
“Yes, I am. You were shot. You are going to get all the bed rest you can.”  
“But-”  
“But nothing, you are staying here and resting up. I'll go out and ask about yer mah and pah. But you're staying here. Sleep, get some grub, put it on my tab. Okay?”   
I got to my hooves, trying to protest, but he gave me a look that made my voice wither in my throat. Felt like the time Dam caught me stealing cookies. His face softened after a moment. “Sorry, but bad enough I let you keep walking after getting shot. You are going to get at least some bed rest.”   
Daze turned towards the door. “I'll go talk with Dew and see if he saw them. Silver has a grooming kit in his saddle bags if you want to get rid of those burrs.”  
I sat back down in defeat.
Silver was on one bed, I sat on the other. My magic glowing around the grooming tools. Cutting out the burrs caught in my feathering. I grimaced, wondering if I could fine some way to just shear them off. I did that last harvest, just trimmed 'em down. They grew back and get knots like there's no tomorrow.
What if he doesn't find them, or what if they left the day before. The small scissors trimmed out the course burrs and the dirty knots. Or what if they are here but he doesn't see them. What if we miss them and they are looking for me but I'm stuck here in this room so they'll never find me.   
A sharp pain dragged me from my thoughts. Accidentally cut myself with the scissors. Stupid scissors. I muttered inwardly. My stomach growled mutely. I glanced across, I think Silver was asleep. Damn that colt was quiet. Hadn't said a word. Wonder if he really was mute. Still, no harm in trying.
“Silver, you awake?”  
A steel eye opened and turned to focus on me.   
“Sorry, figured I'd go down and get some food. You want to come?”  
Silver shook his head and closed his eye. Creepy quiet colt. I pushed myself off of the bed. My wounds protested but my stomach won. Still, it felt good that my ankles no longer itched. I flexed them experimentally, felt like I got all the burrs. Even if it made my feathering look more patchwork that yesterday, they didn't itch nearly so much.
***
Downstairs the saloon was a bit more crowded, a few more dusty ponies wandered in. Mainly a lot of tired and haggard looking ponies. I didn't see any faces I recognized.  
“Wondered when you'd come down.” The barkeep leant on his backhooves against the wooden bar, using his forehooves to polish a mug.   
“I got kinda hungry.” I admitted sheepishly.  
“Daze said you're on his tab, so yer covered, but he also said that yer to stay here, if he finds someone he wants you to be here. That and doc's orders.” The pony added with a shrug. “Ah'll have the missis get a nice meal fer ya. So pull up a stool for now.” He motioned towards the bar as he stuck his head round the door to the kitchen.   
“Daisy and hay.” He shouted. A muffled reply came from the back. He grabbed a mug in his hoof, filling it from a barrel behind the bar. He slid it across the wood. “So, looking fer yer family?” I looked up at him nervously. “Don't mean to pry none, just curious.” I nodded meekly, looking down at the mug. I took a drink. Cider. Strong cider that tasted like dirty laundry. I choked it down. My eyes watering. I glanced back to the bar keep and smiled.   
“Yeah, my mah, pah, brothers and sister.” I added.  
“Oh, big family. Daze asked me about them, but sorry, had not seem them. He said he'd check around the other travellers. See if anyone else knows where they went.”  
I felt odd. Daze was asking around all the ponies for me, patched me up, fed me, out of his own pocket. Just did not feel right. But I guess preachers were meant to be just this nice to everypony. I just had no idea how I was gunna repay him. Maybe Dah'll think of something when we find him.  
“What can you tell me 'bout Daze an Silver?” I asked, taking another small sip of the cider. Regretting the taste.  
“Daze, well, he helped me out a while back. Goin on a couple years ago. Been friends ever since, he usually drops by every couple of months or so. Just travels with that kid of his. Helpings those who need it, preaching to those who'll listen.” He shrugged lightly. “He's just one of them white hats, trying to save everyone.”  
“So, he and Silver just go around helping people?”  
“Pretty much. Guess, it's kinda his thing.”  
“Oh.” I took another swig from the cider.  
“Between you an' me, I'm pretty sure he dyes his mane. Every time I see him there's more orange and less grey.” The barkeep chuckled. I was not sure what to say so I took another drink.  
A squat pot bellied green-turquoise mare walked out of the kitchen. Holding two plates balanced on her wings.  
“So this is the little filly who's family Daze is finding?” She gave a wide smile. Sliding the plates from her wings to the bar top with practiced ease.  
“Copper here was one of those that Blackie chased north.”  
“Oh, she's just a little spit of a thing. Eat up you poor dearie, plenty more where that came from.” She gave a soft piting smile. I took another swig of the cider. I didn't need her pity, looking down on me, just needed to find Dah. I glanced at the sandwich. My stomach rumbled mockingly. Okay, a little pity. I mumbled a thank you and dragged half of the sandwich to me. It tasted of grease and soot, but so much better than the burlap broth Daze had. The hay fries were just as greasy and just as good.
***
As the day wore on more ponies wandered in through the batwing doors. I found my way to a table instead of the bar. I was still picking at the hay fries and nursing my third cider. Slumped badly in an uncomfortable chair. There were conversations around me, various other ponies. But I was not listening. I swirled the contents of my cider idly. Absently chewing on a overly greasy hay fry. Kept coming back to the thought of me crying over the ponies as they lay in the road. Empty eyes staring into the void. The two blasts from the shotgun. I didn't remember pulling the trigger. I took a swig of the cider to distract me.   
“This seat taken?”  
I looked around, surprised somepony spoke to me. Glancing up, a thin cream colored stallion with a dirty sand colored mane and a long brown duster, stood before me. A bottle of whiskey balanced on his head. An earth pony. He flashed a smile and slid the bottle onto the table. Slithering into the seat across from me.   
“By all means.” I shrugged back at him.  
“A pretty mare such as yourself, shouldn't be alone.”   
I gaped at him, not sure how to react. Nobody called me a mare.He flashed a smile none the less. Sitting down he poured himself a shot of the whiskey. He downed it quickly.   
I was not sure how to get rid of him. “Who are you?”  
“Just a wanderer hoping for a game of cards. Friendly game, won't be called a swindler of victims.” He shrugged lightly. “What do you say?”  
I glanced around the room. Of the others in the saloon, most were hunched over drinks, very few were sociable. Why did he have to come over here, I did not want to talk. Part of my brain told him to sod off, but I couldn't say it. I let my eyes fall down to my cider. “Why?”  
“Because a game of cards with a bottle of wiskey and some frie-... some friendly company makes the wee hours go by far faster.” He shrugged lightly. He produced a deck of beaten playing cards. From somewhere in his barding. “A single game never hurt anypony.” He flashed a toothy grin.  
I was bored and the cider was only just keeping me from thinking. And I could not come up with a reason to escape the game. “Fine.” I muttered. The pony's grin widened as he dealt cards.  
“How about a game of Gin Rummy?”  
“Alright.” At least I knew the rules to that one. Thank you, sneaking out with the ranchhooves.  
“And what should I be calling you?”  
“Huh?”  
“You name?”  
“Oh, it's... Copper.”  
“Copper, pleasure to meet you. Call me Steel.”
***
The pot was loaded. I glanced at the poker players to my sides. Both appeared stoic, guarded. Earth and a unicorn. The later held his cards in his hooves. The earth pony absently sniffed his nose. He was bluffing. The pegasus next to him probably thought he had a good hoof. Kept smiling like a fool. Steel was hard. He sat, an empty glass and a mostly empty bottle of whiskey. Impassive behind a foolish grin.  
I double checked the cards. I probably had the pot.  
Steel glanced at me expectantly, arching an eyebrow.  
“Fine, I meet your bet and raise you a button.” I slid the misshapen metal button forward across the wood. Into the pot with three shots of whiskey, a ball of yarn, five beaten buttons and a corncob pipe.   
The pegasus slid another button into the pile.  
“Very well then, read 'em and weep.” Steel grinned. He placed his cards on the table. “Straight.”  
“Damn, two pair.” The earth pony tossed his cards onto the table.  
He smiled back at me. I met him, lowering my hooves slowly. “Full house.”   
The pegasus rolled his eyes tossing his cards into the muck. “Well, I'm already beat.”  
“Sorry colts, better luck next round.”  
I grinned, scooping my winnings over to my side of the table. Quickly downing the shots of whiskey. Trying to keep a straight face against the harsh taste.   
Steel poured himself another shot and I passed the used shot glasses back to him.  
“'Nuther round?” I grinned shamelessly. I picked up the corncob pipe in my aura. Dah had one like it. I mean, his was brown and made of wood, this one yellow and his looked much better. But he had a pipe. I let out a soft sigh. It was night out the batwing doors, Daze had not returned. And I was no closer to finding them.  
“Right, nother hand.” Steel measured out several shots in the glasses. “So, who's turn is it to tell a story?”  
“Believe we ended with me.” The unicorn smiled. Drinking from the mug of beer.   
“Yes, the soiled dove.” Steel smiled shaking his head. He glanced at me briefly. I shook my head. He turned his gaze to the earth pony.  
“Right then. A story. I guess I could come up with something. Lets see.” He scratched his chin with a hoof as he waited for his cards. “Okay. So, me, a friend o' mine and a stripe were walking through a saloon...” There were shouts from outside. I glanced away from the earth pony. A group of loud ponys threw the batwing doors open.   
“Ah hell.” I heard Dew mutter over the din. Loud and obnoxious, by the look of them, probably ranchhooves.   
“So the boss walks in on us an' his wife...” I turned back to the table. “An' we're too distracted to notice 'im, so...” I glanced away again, the ponys had made their way to the bar. One of them was arguing with the barkeep but I could not hear the words. Laughter brought me back to the table. I joined in awkwardly. “And that stripe, I'll never forget, he just looked at him brave as can be...” More shouts from the bar side. I glanced back around. One of the ponies near the bar were shouting. At eachother. I couldn't make out what they were talking about, but a big earth pony was sure getting riled up.  
“Hey, Copper, you betting this hand?”  
“Huh?” I glanced down, quickly peeking at my cards. I slid a button forward. “Sorry.”  
A pony tapped a piano key experimentally. And another. I drained the rest of my mug of cider. A rowdy song erupted from the piano and a pony with musical notes as his mark. I took another shot of whiskey.
I yawned, raising a hoof to my mouth. It was getting loud in here. I glanced down at my cards. My head swimming silkily.   
“Three buttons.” I grined as the unicorn bet. I had this hand. I picked up my junk to meet his bet.   
A pony landed in the pot. Why was a pony on the table? Ponies don't go on tables? The wood groaned. The table collapsed and our junk chips went flying.   
I stared at where the table had been. We all were. I looked up. The pony had been bucked onto the table. An earth pony was cocking himself back for another buck. A large earth pony. The pony facing him ducked. The whooves struck a table and the wood splintered and shattered.   
“The hell is happening?” I dimly heard Steel. Everyone was shouting. It was hard to pick words out. A bottle soared through the air, smashing against a wooden wall.   
“Sorry Colts, looks like the game has been called.” I think it was the unicorn speaking.  
I shook my head, trying to pull thoughts together. Everything felt fuzzy. Another pony got hit by the earth's buck. The pony hit the piano. The music died angrily. There was a brief lull of silence. Ponies glared at one another. I swear I could hear the drops of alcohol staining down the wall.  
Another hoof swung. Then all hell broke loose. I sat staring. Not sure if I would be able to help or not. A pony's eyes crossed as a bottle slammed into his head.   
Steel was still at the table. Drinking the rest of his whiskey from the bottle. A pony behind Steel ducked a blow. Spinning his eyes fell on Steel. He swung a hoof.   
My aura yanked Steel to the side. The blow missed. Steel jerked back and the whiskey spilled. The whiskey arched through the air hitting the pony. He blinked briefly. His eyes turning red. He screamed and put both his hooves to his eyes. Falling onto his side. Steel gave a side long glance to the pony. “Cheers.” He smiled at him. “What you say we get out of here?” I nodded and my head swam.  
Steel practically scooped me up. The fight raged between us and the door. Steel smelled like dirt and something I could not put my name on. Kinda spicy. He pulled me along.  
A hoof smashed into the side of Steel's face. He was knocked down. I nearly fell with him. Steel growled. Like one of them wild dogs. He leapt up slamming his hooves into the belly of the green earth pony. Another pony noticed and ran to help the green pony. I span, surprised I did not trip over my own hooves and kicked. All the days of bucking hay bales paid off. The blow connected. I glanced over my shoulder. A crumpled groaning pony lay there. I laughed. Dad always said I had a mean buck.   
I turned back to Steel. The other pony was groaning on the floor as well. But more of his friends had shown up. Steel was kicking where he could. I galloped towards him.   
I felt myself get thrown to the side. The floor left my hooves. But not for long. We hit the floor and tumbled. I landed in a heap with another pony. A red one. The pony lay ontop of me. I pushed him off. Looked like he was out cold. The giant of an earth pony glanced over his shoulder at me. I shook my head, trying to think clearly. Looked like Steel was out numbered, I took a step towards him. My knee buckled, threatening to dump me to the ground.   
The room was spinning lazily. I focused on the floor, trying to collect myself. A half empty whiskey bottle lay there. I grinned, picking it up and taking a swig. The taste made my eyes burn.   
A hoof slammed into Steel's flank. I took a slow step over towards him, trying to find my footing over the refuse strewn floor.  
Two ponies grabbed Steel's hooves, holding him while another lined up to buck him. He was too busy looking over his shoulder. I grinned, bringing the bottle down hard on the pony's head. He lurched back then crumpled. Steel flashed a toothy grin before kicking himself free. I looked at the bottle of whiskey. Still in one piece, still some in there. I grinned, draining it.   
Then I remembered vomiting.
***
I opened my eyes. The light burned. My brain ached angrily. A throbbing, pulsating headache behind my eyes. Like it was too big for my head. I tried to speak. A guttural groan escaped. I licked my lips, my mouth felt slimy. And tasted of bad whiskey and worse cider, and dirt, I think I tasted dirt. I tried to push myself up. But everything hurt. I groaned again and wished I could fall back asleep. But the pounding in my skull was forcing me farther and farther into being awake.  
“Welcome to the land of the living.” A cocky, arrogant voice called out like nails on chalkboard. Steel's voice.  
I groaned something back at him. Not even sure if I was thinking in words other than pain.  
“Looks like you're hung over.” I heard something scrap on the wood. I opened an eye cautiously. A shot of whiskey lay waiting for me. “Hair o' the diamond what bit you?” I felt myself turn a shade of green. My stomach protested angrily. “No? Oh well, more's the pity. I'll get you something else to help then.”  
I tried not to move my head. It felt like I was thinking too loud. “ Barkeep!” Steel shouted. I winced, pressing my head against the wood.  
“What?”  
“You serve coffee?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Two coffees then.”  
“How you want em?”  
“Black as hell, strong as death, sweet at love.”  
There was a moment's pause.  
“What?”  
“The coffee.”  
Another moment's pause. I swear I could hear the barkeep shaking his head.  
“Fine, whatever.” The barkeep muttered.  
“Now just cradle your head in your hooves until you get some coffee. Sure I can't interest you in a shot?”  
I groaned back at him and closed my eyes.
The coffee clattered on the table. Waking me up again. Had not caught myself falling asleep.  
I could taste the coffee, let alone smell it. Two mugs greeted me when I finally opened my eyes again. Steel picked his up. Holding it in his hooves and sipping it. I pushed myself up from the wood. Dragging the mug over in my magic. I held myself up with my hooves. Just concentrate on the coffee. It felt like my horn was trying to burrow into my skull. As I struggled not to spill. But I managed to get the coffee close enough to take a sip.  
The heat seared off the inside of my mouth. I hastily put the coffee on the table. Glaring at Steel. Who was happily sipping his mug.   
“Hot, but you'll feel better.” He supplied with a smile.  
I glared daggers before dragging the cup up for another swig. Still burned, but now it was just the taste. Incredibly bitter and sickly sweet. I gagged slightly.  
“Trust me, it'll do you wonders.”  
I took another swig and place the mug down. Letting my head simply rest on the table.   
“Well, you seem half dead.”  
“I groaned back at him. Why was he still talking, couldn't he just shut up and let me sleep.  
“Oh, found your winnings from last night. But 'fraid you're gunna have to wait for 'em.”  
I groaned again. Opening an eye slowly. Steel's hooves jingled when they hit the table. I tried to bring my spinning vision into the focus. He had a band on his foreankle. One on both foreankles. There was a chain between them... He was in manacles. I turned to focus both eyes on him.   
“Why are you in irons?”  
“These things? You're in 'em to.” He pointed out.  
I looked down. My foreankles were fine. I shifted my hind legs experimentally and felt the weight on them. I leaned back to look down between my legs. There was a thick chain mounted to a cuff on each of my hindankles.   
“They ran outta cuffs when they got to you.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Sherriff rounded up a posse and just slapped any and all in irons when they got there.” He sipped the coffee again.  
“B-but... I don't remember... being arrested.” I spoke slowly, dragging the coffee back over to me. I took two mouthfuls before the taste forced me to stop.   
“Yeah, you were out cold. Brained a pony with a bottle than drank the rest; threw up on him mind you, then proceeded to beat any who came closer with the bottle. Kinda funny actually.”  
I remembered the vomiting bit. I struggled to piece together my agonized head. I glanced over the table at his irons.“But, we're in manacles.”  
“Yeah.”  
“When will we get out of the manacles.”  
“Sherrif said he'd come back, kinda stashed drunks all over town since he ran out of jail space.”  
I glanced back down between my hindankles. Experimentally tugging on them. Actually, there was a chain on the other side of my right hoof as well. I followed the chain. It was locked to another cuff. Connected to another hoof. A cream colored hoof.  
“And am I cuffed to you?”  
“Why yes you are.” He grinned.  
“Why?”  
“Because I'm such a charming and eloquent gentlecolt.”  
“I'm cuffed to you.” I muttered. I dragged another swig from the coffee. I gave the chain a yank.  
“What, is that such a bad thing?”  
“Just wake me up when the sheriff comes back.”
***
I felt somepony pushing my shoulder. Blearily I opened an eye. Steel was shaking my shoulder. He motioned for me to look up. Groggily I turned my head around.  
A fiery pony stood before the table. Sire Daze glared down at me. His fired eyes blazing. A pony with a star on his vest and a bushy mustache stood behind him.  
“Ah leave you alone fer nary a day and yer getting into a brawl, hoofcuffed to some card sharp.” He spoke calmly, too calmly. Oh Luna's black nethers. I felt like I was going to get a hiding. Steel was doing his best to distance himself from me. As far as the chains would allow. I wished I could hide in some hole somewhere.   
“I, uh... well.” I struggled to form words. I wanted to gallop away but I was hoofcuffed to Steel.   
“And you.” Daze turned his fiery eyes to the other pony. Who looked like he was melting under the gaze. “You should be ashamed of yourself, giving whiskey to a filly.”  
“I, Uh... Sire, see what happen-” He began but a glare from Daze silenced him. He glanced over his shoulder to the sheriff.   
“Uncuff her, we'll be leaving today.”  
“Right you are then. The other one with you as well?”  
“No, you can have him.”  
The sheriff fished out keys from his pockets. I stood when he motioned me two. The cuff snapped open with a click. He shoved the keys back into his pockets. “Right, you're free to go, can't say I envy you.” The sheriff smiled solemnly. I turned to Daze sheepishly.   
“Go to the room, I'll deal with you in a moment.”   
I nervously skulked towards the stairs.   
“Wrong saloon ya idjit, the room, across the street.”  
I glanced back and forth, actually paying attention tot he saloon. This looked polished and clean, like a fight had not happened in it. It dawned on me that were were in a different saloon. I lowered my head sheepishly as I skulked away. “Sorry.” I muttered mutely. Before heading to the saloon across the street. Holy Celestia it was bright and hot out.
***
Daze closed the wooden door to the room behind him.   
“What in the Sam Hill do you think yer doing?”  
“Ah'm sor-”  
“Let me finish.” He glowered.   
I nervously sank to the floor, unable to meet his gaze.  
“I spent all of yesterday talking to everypony, calling in favors, giving out some on the slight hope that they'd seen yer family. And I get back from speaking to I don't know how many ponies and Silver Luck tells me that there was a fight down stairs. Not only that, but you were in it, and when the sheriff arrived he dragged you and Luna knows how many other ponies off in manacles. But to top that all off, you were drunk. Tell me, why on Celestia's green Earth do you think I should bother helping you?”  
I opened my mouth, but only a squeak came out.   
“Just don't.” He shook his head. “No pony saw yer damn parents an we're gunna move on to the next town.” He shook his head looking away. “I've talked to damn near everypony, so everypony'll pass the message on if they see 'em.” He rubbed his forehead with a hoof. He sighed deeply. Shaking his head before looking me in the eyes. I wanted to run away, to hide under a bed and pretend nothing happened. “Fer now, I'll chalk this up to yer being an idjit, don't make me regret it.”
We left the town, heading towards Sandy Shore, or Sandy Rock, something Sandy. Wait, no, this was Sandy Rock, we're going to Coyote Creek. The sun was too damn bright and loud and I was still hung over.