"Is that a pipbuck?" Tequila asked me, browsing it's many dials and screens I'd never even explored.

I pondered for a moment if that name was intentionally nonsensical or if my device was really used for bucking. Did I really know what it was. No. But did I want and/or need to spend a whole chapter of my life discussing it's nuclear wonders...?

No.

"... Yes." I answered, looking far, far away.

I let her fondle my accessory. And then, she thanked with oral
instructions on how to use it.

It was thinner than the others she'd seen. Perfect for a girl like Tequila. She was thick at her curves and nowhere else, not even her neck, which worried me with how brittle it looked. We tread on the marsh and trotted right of Pilgrim's Landing. Abandoned carnival stalls, destroyed or misplaced benches and time-worn posters surrounded us. We kept our eyes peeled trotting side-by-side, watching for swampfolk and savage wildlife. The only other thing neighboring Pilgrim's Landing was the murky shoreline and wide, open swamp terrain.

Within view was another, towering mansion along the coast of Point Lookin. It was called Point Lookin because the place was primarily a tourist attraction. That decision was bitterly made by the old, recently-deceased owner of Whitehall Mansion. I heard his decision was simple business practice, to attract revenue to a dying old landmark. Father Pepperjack told me so. And Father Pepperjack was thorough in his study of the land. I'd even learned how to wash the swamp stink out my coat, thanks to him. The abraxo cleaner and bleach were rather heavy in my pack, swaying lazily and striking my squeak-toy dolly.

Constant 'mama's filled the drab, musty air. Humorous in hindsight, as Tequila still looked nervous about it. But I didn't care at all. It was my dolly. My comfort away from books. Away from home. We passed an unburnt bush and she finally stopped leading. I followed her with empty eyes, confused when my party member took out a pack of smokes. The box was crumpled and veined with white flesh between red skin.

"Why are you smoking...?" I asked, keeping half-crouched for approaching danger.

"I-I need it. I smoke when I'm stressed, okay."

I glanced away and presented my dolly. My companion scrunched her face in confusion. But squeezing my dollie against my chest drew her signature 'mama' from her squeaky torso. We shared a glance and she had one brow higher than the other.

"... You carry a doll around?" She said, stepping back a few measures.

My expression never changed. And, even better, I stared at her while I spoke, nuzzling my friend every few seconds. I rubbed my cheek against her and noticed how small she was in my hooves. My hooves were gargantuan. So full of weight and blunt calcium. I'd grown to the size of a full mare.

"... Nhn. She keeps me warm. And that won't change. Even if I try. Even if I want it to." I stated, pulling one of her smokes away and imagining it were lit.

Surprisingly... it lit.

Tequila dropped her cancer and left her maw agape.

"How... how did you..."

"How did I what?" I asked, watching her with heavy eyelids.

I spent the next twenty minutes or so explaining why I might've been capable of pyromancy. She said it was impossible to do without a horn, but I told her pony anatomy didn't work that way. Magic was a theoretical constant.

It did not disappear because your skull was missing a focal nexus near it's apex. Magic was an everywhere like electromagnetic currents, it was only against insulators and even magic dampening materials that it didn't soak into anypony present. Just because earth ponies couldn't find a way to use their magic didn't mean it was impossible for non-unicorns. I explained that earth ponies were merely resistant to it's effects and thus, they had no way to naturally channel it. The ramble kept her sane and prevented her combat paranoia. She'd been fidgeting. And, from what I'd seen... Tequila was predisposed to irrational anxiety.

We were halfway up the hill to Caviar Mansion. The estate was victorian in architecture. Many pleasant embroideries and symmetrical measurements met my eyes. It was beautiful. Symmetry was beautiful. I marveled at Caviar Mansion, molesting the many pedestals and Puncher fruits growing in oblong pots with my eyes. We met an obscure corner of the estate, a garden, by eyeing a lighthouse along the shoreline.

"... So why do you smoke if smoking is bad for you." I asked, closing my eyes and feeling rain on my coat.

"It... it comforts me. When I was smaller, my dad would hold me in his lap and do paperwork, smoking. He was always working and I was always around him. So. I... smoke because I miss him. He's the reason I'm here, after all."

I heard her with open ears and heavy eyes, tired from my own memories.

"I miss my mother, too. All I remember is I woke up next to her and she was cold. I didn't know it was until one of her friends took me in and raised me. He taught me intelligence and set me right. He took me in and raised me. I miss him for a lot of reasons. But his care was culinary. Whenever I was down or got too skinny, Father Pepperjack cooked me Nom in a skillet and puncher puppies."

We settled for leaving the garden and finally entering the house. Nopony was home, strangely enough. It'd been built differently from Whitehall Mansion, I noticed. The walls weren't made with floral wallpaper and the stairway was made of metal. I knew because the creak it produced was more shrill and grating. It wasn't eerie like a rickety door was; it was just annoying. I had no idea how old world ponies could live in metal ships, like Father Pepperjack used to tell. My eyes went to Tequila as I finally asked her why we were there.

Her whisper delivered me from temptation and I listened with faith.

"This... used to be dad's old research facility. He was here for six years before he and mom had me. I came here to study the Puncher fruit. Puncher fruit is getting it's start in the Canterlot Wasteland, but I'm here to study it in it's natural habitat. And- and if it's not too much, I'd like you to help me. I'm not like you. I can't even t-touch a weapon. So... so will you help me get m-more Puncher fruit?"

Was there ever any doubt. I watched her lips tremble. She was horrified I wasn't giving her a look of sympathy. But I was. I heard her cries and I remembered my Mother Goddess soothing me to blessed purpose. Tequila sounded a lot like my mother. Same raspy quality. Same flip of her 'r's. Everything else fell into place. I knew what had to be done.

"Then this is Celestia's work. I'll find your prodigal seeds. And I'll help you tribute your father. Ask and you shall receive, Tequila. I am your worker."

I don't know what it was, but my response made her red again. What was it about me that turned her cherry. Before I could deduce the reason, she twiddled her hooves and named a faction of tribals nearby. The Dreamers were far northeast of Caviar Mansion. Tequila Redshot explained The Dreamers were a pack of religious horticulture specialists.

Well that was just silly.

I started to turn away and Tequila clung to my right foreleg. I never realized how meager her stature was. Tequila nuzzled the bottom of my sternum and whispered 'wait, stay here...' I didn't know how to feel. What to say. A saint was keeping me close. We stayed together as long as she wanted. So she pulled away and covered her face.

"I-I... I'm sorry. I feel safe around you. Nopony else I've met is even like you. You never asked for caps o-or sex or anything. You're just here. Helping me. Wh-why me though? Why help me and b-be nice to me?" She whispered, peeking between her hooves.

I closed my eyes and thought, but only for a moment.

"I made a mistake I can never fix. I hurt my family. I hurt my tribe. It made me wingless and made me fall. I ran away from home, the only place I could ever call my own. And as I lay dying, I prayed my soul to keep if I'd be put to sleep. I was dying at the docks and you came along."

I took a puff of my cigarette and watched the air dilute with carcinogenic vapors. I saw her waiting. I saw her lips part. Tequila asked 'and what else' with honest eyes. I saw light glimmering off their surface.

"I thought you'd hurt me, but Celestia had other plans. She gave me you. And you gave me purpose. You wouldn't hurt anypony. So I'll do all the hurting for you..." I answered, standing still as she held me tight.

I flinched and held her loosely, unsure of the way my stomach felt. I couldn't feel anything, but I was... lighter. My thoughts were absent. Even my wing injury stopped burning.

I would later learn that we shared a moment in her father's old laboratory. On New Year's, she stated sometime after. We were in the kitchen when she told me. I sat to the left of her and she leaned against me, enjoying my scent and the meal I'd put together. Forest pine, she said I smelled like, like forest pine and musk.

It was Nom and molerat blood morcilla. Well, there were other ingredients, like swamp onion and ground puncher fruit. But Nom was the main flavor. Nom was an amalgamation of various meats, of which not the least, radhog. It came in a squarish tin and broke apart like milk cake. Father Pepperjack taught me how to survive under the safety of his watch. But I was more of a chef than an ungroomed explorer.

Tequila melted and an audible declaration of relief and pleasure slipped her lips. Her cheeks were full of morcilla. And that made me smile. Wasn't she splendid, I wondered silently, entranced by her hunger. She was eating my food. She recieved my flesh. And as far as I could tell, her plate was feeling lonely.

"Have mine." I hushed, sliding my sausage over.

"N-no no no no, you- you need a eat!" She panicked, trying to put it back.

I hushed her by pressing it against her lips. Tequila folded her lips over it and locked eyes with me. She took a flick and accepted my offering. She was hungrier than I thought. Tequila took it deeper and enjoyed my sausage, savoring it every inch of it. I watched her choke when she masticated too quickly and it's juices sprayed, forcing her eyes shut. I made her swallow and keep it down. We finished together and I left her satisfied with her midnight snack.

Tequila fell asleep not five minutes later, unused to fat-rich foods like morcilla.

I scoffed as I realized how overpowering the Nom must've been. Puncher fruit was mashed into it for two reasons: one, it helped the system digest and accept otherwise unhealthy foods. Two: when puncher was actually cooked, the sweetness disappeared and it resembled an unususally large potato. The taste was better suited for a meal, though. It resembled fancy fries mashed together. The sugar converted to salt past it's usual climate temperature of 28° celcius.

I helped her into bed that night and tucked her in nice and tight. And though it kept me up all night making sure she slept alright, I didn't mind at all. The windows by poured in with light, with milk over her honey sheets. So I stood by her bedside and prayed her soul to keep. My hooves clicked together and I spoke below the low buzz of firebug lamplight. They flew around me, seeping in from a broken window not meters away.

"Now I lay her down to sleep, I pray Celestia, her soul to keep; Guide us through the starry night, and wake us with the morning's light. I ask not for her alone, but for thy children -- every one."

I opened my eyes when my ears perked up. Downstairs, I heard a door slam open.

I took Madre Diosa betwixt my teeth and shooed the bugs away. I shuffled far away from eden to cleanse the gentiles and blasphemers. This was her temple. Her sanctuary to her own father. I would creep out low to the ground, perpetually crouched. I heard voices in the main room and boots dirtying her carpet. As far as I could tell, there were four pairs of hooves and two voices. One was colt with a shrill tenor and his marefriend spoke in a low soprano.

"Looks like someone's been here. We should probably go, Violet. I don't like this. What if it's one of those swampfolks." He cautioned, echoing throughout the empty mansion.

"I dunno... I don't think swampfolks carry around prewar books. Look at this one, it's got gold on the cover."

I froze. And then I thawed. I was burning. My heart was cold and it kept me from lighting ablaze. I slid downstairs and landed with a loud thump. They started towards me from a blind corner. I waited by the right of the doorway, tense and loose all at once. I found them. Or, rather, they found me, all four of them in leather armor fitted with scraps of motorcycle metal. One of the smugglers, as my pipbuck stated, spoke to me with a barrel to my snout.

"Who the hell are you...?"

I looked upon him from down below and answered.

"I am your perdition." I hushed, setting his mane aflame.

He and his malcontent brothers started firing. They witnessed pale death as I rushed toward them dotted with red. I slashed the leader with Madre Diosa. He reeled over and snarled in pain. I shoved him forward and knocked him down, stomping his skull in. The others spat lead at me. But all I felt were minuscule stings. It must've been the adrenaline. I could barely feel it.

I pounced forward and took the other two down, tackling them to the stairs. They were out of shells, I could tell. I saw fear in them. And, maybe, just maybe, I had mercy on them. I slit their throats and set them free. The last darted past me and up the stairs. His steps were short and stomping. He'd wake her up. He'd hurt Tequila.

"Are you a Fillystine or a deserter! Come back and fight!" I barked, only to watch him find her room.

He slipped inside and clicked the door close. I stormed forward and burst through it.

"D-don't come any closer. Don't come closer o-or I'll shoot." He shook, holding Tequila at gunpoint.

I felt nothing as I looked down on him. And it lit ablaze as I lit him. First, he was too tired to notice his tail burning. But then he did and he leapt away in panic, flopping on the floor. He started rolling back and forth, akin to some child enjoying life. So I took it away from him. I took his discarded lever action and filled him with 10mm's. Fine, rich edom stained my chest and I felt it over my hooves. He was gone. His skull was sunken within itself riddled with hot metal. I dropped it over his corpse and carried him away to the bathroom. I doused his body in lamp oil and shut the door behind me.

"Dear Celestia... I now know what I'll be facing. I know now the purpose you've given me. I'll keep her safe. I'll keep all your angels safe. I beg you to give me strength. So I can fall them like collumns and do so in your name. You are my shepard and I ask naught else. Amare."

I felt Tequila wrap her legs around me.

I knew it wasn't so. But I closed my eyes and imagined it was Her.

That it was mother.

Author's Note

Level Up! New Perk Gained!

Filly at Heart:

Interactions with children will provide extra dialogue. Your childish nature also influences others around you, but mostly, the like-minded.