Catch Me

Chapters

1 - Laura's Fall
2 - Encounter in Welsford
3 - Hitting the Road
4 - Oak Point Farms
5 - Welcome to the US of A
6 - Road Block
7 - Dragon!
8 - Beantown, USA
9 - Thomas?
10 - Albany
11 - NY Canals Lock 12

1 - Laura's Fall

"Tom?"

Laura prodded the inert lump of fiancee that lurked beneath the blankets and whined, "Thooomaaas… Wakey wakey."

Thomas groaned and rolled over, blinked at her with sleep bleary eyes as she struggled into a sports top. He yawned and asked, "How can you be so bloody chipper this early in the morning?"

She giggled and leaned down to kiss him, doing her best to ignore his morning breath. His neatly trimmed whiskers brushed against her upper lip and made her giggle against his lips. Breathlessly she whispered, "It's just one of my many, many fine qualities that you secretly admire."

Thomas' hand caressed up her side, leaving goosebumps in its wake and cupped one of her pert breasts, warming it through the stretchy, pink bra. "Mmmm… one of the many, yes. I especially love these two. Very high quality."

After another lingering kiss, Laura bounced up off of the bed and into the narrow aisle that ran down the centre of their rental caravan. She snagged a pair of dark red capri pants off of a hanger and slipped a slim, muscular leg into them. They were in dire need of a wash, like all of their clothing. Two weeks on the road—stopping only to camp, take in some of the Maritime's most touristy destinations, and climb some spectacular rock faces—hadn't left much time for housekeeping. Though the little camper van was superior to living out of a car's boot and pitching a tent, its limited luxuries didn't include a washing machine.

While considering which of her slightly manky smelling long-sleeved cardigans to wear, Laura kicked the wooden cabinet beneath the caravan's bed. "Come on, Major Tom! Up and at 'em. You promised me one last climb before Saint John." They would return the caravan today and be on a flight home to England by dinner-time.

"That was before you crushed my hips last night", Thomas moaned pitifully.

She relented on the kicking when he finally sat up, yawned and stretched. Laura paused in her dressing to admire the muscles moving under his pale skin. Because Thomas' idea of a good workout was swimming laps, he had very broad shoulders and a lean build. Laura was happy that he wasn't religious about it and didn't shave off the dusting of black hair on his chest and those deliciously broad shoulders. But daily dips in a chlorinated pool were hard on his curly, black hair. She always made sure to use her floral scented conditioner on it whenever they showered together, despite his complaints. It felt so much nicer afterwards and she always caught him running his fingers through it when he thought she wasn't looking.

Right now though, his bed-head just looked in desperate need of a wash as he scrubbed long, powerful fingers through it. He muttered, "Death by snu-snu?"

Laura snickered and replied, "Death by snu-snu."

"Is the tea on?"

"Nope! Dine after climb, ok?"

Thomas sighed dramatically, scooted over to the edge of the bed and stood up. "You're a wicked girl. Dragging your poor man out of the best sleep of his life and you don't even have the kettle on?"

Laura grimaced, which Thomas claimed made her nose wrinkle in the cutest way, and said, "I can't work that bloody gas hob. Maybe you can brew up for us when we get back, love?"

She stepped into the tiny washroom and stood in front of the caravan's equally tiny mirror to put her hair up. She didn't bother to brush the long, blond strands, so there would be hellish tangles to brush out, but that was a worry for later. For now, she bundled it together into a simple ponytail and pulled it through a pink, sparkly scrunchy to hold it in place. When she popped back into the corridor she found Thomas struggling in the narrow space to get into his cargo pants.

He grumbled, "This is how it's going to be from now on isn't it? Me, the downtrodden house-husband while you jet off to The Lakes to get your thrills?"

Laura laughed and grabbed one of his T-shirts to throw at his head. "Come off it, you twit! Let's gooo already! The sun's almost up."

"What!? The bloody sun's not even up yet?"

More petulant whining, gropey snuggles, and promises of oral sex (which Laura wasn't really keen on) were needed to keep Thomas from reneging on his early-morning-climb promise and crawling back into bed. A half hour or so later, they were finally out of the caravan and into the nippy New Brunswick morning. It was almost too chilly for what little Laura was wearing but the quick, uphill hike through a pine forest to the cliff face warmed her up. Since it was her last climb, Laura picked her favourite one of the three they had done since arriving at the Cochrane Lane Cliffs two days ago. This section of dark grey cliff was popular, with white blobs going all the way up showing where hundreds of chalk coated hands had left their marks.

Peering up between the cliff and the trees, Laura could see a blanket of grey clouds that grew brighter as the sun rose. It looked like the last day of their Canadian adventure would be a damp one, but there should be time for this quick morning workout and to pack away their rented climbing gear before it really started to pour.

Laura clipped her climbing harness to the belay rope and looked over to where Thomas stood near the edge of the forest. He already had the rope wrapped around his back and was taking up the slack.

"Ready?"

He yawned and gave her a nod. "All set. Just a half hour up and then you'll come back down so we can eat?"

"Hell, yes! I'm starving too."

The lowest part of the climb wasn't much of a challenge but as she climbed higher Laura dipped her hands into the chalk bag on her waist, rubbed it into her fingers and then realised she'd forgotten to take her beautiful engagement ring off. She cursed quietly, "Oh, bugger."

She wasn't in a position to take it off, not easily and not without risk of dropping it, so she decided to keep it on. She wasn't going to climb much further and would be careful not to scratch it.

"Everything ok, hon?" Thomas shouted up from almost a hundred feet below, his voice echoing strangely off of the stone in front of her nose.

She panted for a moment and shouted down, "Yes! Just catching my breath, love." No need to upset him about the ring. The chalk powder would wash off and he'd never know she'd messed up. Having caught her breath she continued the ascent, now with the added complication of keeping her left-hand ring-finger from rubbing against the abrasive stone. She grunted and swung her left leg up to the next toe-hold, her thighs and calves strained to take her weight and support it on the small bumps under her toes. She pushed her lean body up and reached with her left hand for thin, horizontal crease in the rock…

There was a bright flash of light.

Laura stared at the spot she had been reaching for and saw her precious engagement ring, floating in the air beyond the empty cuff of her knitted cardigan. The beautiful, little diamond caught the bright sunlight and sparkled while the gold band's shine was muted by a thin coat of white chalk. The rock face fell away from her and began whipping past. Orange and red hair fluttered and blew across her eyes. Just as she wondered why the belay rope hadn't caught her, she hit something, ass first. It gave under her weight and she rolled and flopped onto her back, her arms flailing as the springy something rebounded and shoved her back up again. She screamed in terror, but as the elastic bouncing, up and down, subsided her high-pitched screams turned into manic laughter.

After a few seconds her laughter died down into panting giggles and she rolled onto her side. She blinked her eyes a few times and shook her head to try and shift the weirdly bright orange hair away from her face. Was that her hair? Orange? She couldn't imagine how her hair would have turned such a vivid orange. Didn't your hair turn white when you were terrified? She spat out a few strands, turned her head to look around and felt a sudden horror that made her skin prickle. Her neck felt completely wrong! She had easily arched her head way past where it should be able to go. Laura froze, holding her head in place, fearing she had broken bones, torn tendons, maybe spine damage!

She hesitantly called out, "T-Tom?"

Something was wrong with her voice! It was higher in pitch than normal and had a weird timbre, maybe something had broken in her voice box? But it didn't hurt. Laura closed her eyes, inhaled deeply as she could without moving her body and called, "Thooomaaas?!"

She heard nothing but birdsong and pine tree needles rustling in the breeze.

"What the fuck?"

She inhaled deeply and screamed, "THOMAAAAAAS?!"

There was still no reply and she lay there for a few minutes trying to figure out what was happening. She'd fallen from the cliff. Landed on… She glanced down, trying to see through the orange hair what she was lying on. The hair had very clearly defined crimson streaks through it. Beneath her was a net of woven rope. Bright pink rope. She looked up the cliff face and could see where she'd fallen from, it wasn't very far, maybe twenty or thirty feet. Laura raised her head and slowly turned it from side to side, and it felt fine. Weirdly flexible but her neck didn't seem to be broken. She wiggled each arm and though they felt stiff she could feel and move them. Deciding that her neck probably wasn't broken, she tried moving her right leg and though it also felt stiff she could move it and feel it moving. Then something long and skinny twitched against her ass!

There was a snake or something in the back of her pants! She yelped and flailed her arms, trying to reach the top of her capri pants, but her arms weren't bending properly and her hands felt weird. The sleeves of her cardigan were pulled down over her hands but it felt like she'd broken them, though they didn't hurt—nothing really hurt—she just couldn't feel anything but the middle finger of each hand.

And there was a God damned snake in her pants!

After a few minutes of useless flailing around on the bouncy rope platform, she screamed in frustration. A sort of scream anyway. What came out of her mouth was a long, loud squeal that ended in a surprised whinny.

She lay there for a few moments, eyes wide as she panted, shocked by the noise she had made. The snake-thing twitched a few more times and the realisation slowly crept in that she was the one making it twitch. Laura could feel it. Could feel an extra limb back there on her derriere. Twitch, twitch, twitching. She could feel it moving against her butt cheeks, but could also feel her butt cheeks with whatever it was! And then she felt her ears move. They had folded flat when she screamed and she distinctly felt a weird rotating sensation on either side of her head as they stood up. Her hair stood on end and she shuddered.

Laura squeezed her eyes shut and lay still on the net. She tried to avoid moving because everything felt wrong when she moved and it was making her queasy. After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and deepened as the calm breeze, the sound of pine trees rustling, and distant bird song helped her to relax. Her ears twitched and rotated in a slightly sickening way whenever a nearby bird yelled at its neighbours.

Logical thought wasn't really Laura's forte. She thought of herself as an artist, or a writer, amateur potter, some kind of creative person anyway. But right now she needed to focus and think through what was happening to her if she was to have any chance to make sense of it.

Slowly opening her eyes she looked at her weird hair. Alright. Somehow her hair had changed from blond to this vivid orange with crimson streaks. Her ears moved much more than they should. She had grown a… something on her ass, and her hands felt weird. Right. She decided to focus on what was going on with her hands. Hands were extremely important when you were halfway up a bloody cliff.

With her heart pounding in her chest, she tried to push the cardigan's sleeve on her right arm up using her left… middle finger. When that didn't work she used her teeth, biting the upper part of the sleeve and pushing her arm down while yanking back with her head. Something was weird with her nose too, but she ignored it for now and after a couple of bites and pulls a shiny, grey lump popped out of the knitted cuff of her cardigan.

"Oh, my Goooood…"

Laura lay that way for quite a while, staring at her… She could only think of it as a 'hoof', where her hand used to be. Childhood dabbling in riding classes left little doubt in her mind that she was looking at a horse's foot. And it was undeniably her hoof. Fingernail. Whatever the hell it was. She could wiggle it and it felt like wiggling her middle finger. She wiggled her left 'middle finger' and watched the hoof-shaped bulge wrapped in that sleeve move.

Struggling to be logical, she tried to think of explanations for why this was happening to her.

Dreaming? Maybe, but if it was a dream it was the longest, most vivid and complex dream she could remember having. Usually, she didn't dream at all or they were just fragmented images. If it was a falling dream she should have woken up when she landed in the net, right? So probably not a dream. Unless she'd fallen, hit her head and was in a coma? Dreaming this nonsense while her body wasted away in a hospital bed? Could she have fallen and died? This was not the afterlife they'd taught her about as a kid, back when mum had taken her to C of E services. Did you end up with horse hooves in the Afterlife? Laura doubted it, much as she doubted everything they'd tried to teach her at church.

After pondering it for a while she decided that it didn't matter why this was happening. Just that it was happening and she could either lie here, trying not to move or freak out for the rest of her life, or afterlife, or until she woke up… Or she could get on with it. Whatever 'it' was.

Wiggling and flailing her limbs she rolled over onto her right side, then bit and tugged her other sleeve up and exposed another grey hoof. Her hooves. Looking at her left hoof caused a sudden memory flash of her engagement ring, floating in the air as she'd started to fall.

"Jesus Christ! My ring!"

Kicking her legs and flailing her arms, Laura tried to roll over onto her belly but her capri pants were tangled up around her legs. Grunting with effort she curled up on her side and tried to reach her legs with her hands to try and pull the red, fabric pant legs up and over what she suspected would be yet more hooves. It wasn't easy, especially with the loose climbing harness flopping around her waist and thighs as she struggled, but somehow the hand-hooves managed to grip the fabric. She bunched up the fabric and sure enough, there were two more grey hooves where her feet used to be. Wiggling her hind hooves felt really strange. Not like wiggling her big toe but like moving all of the little toes that used to be next to the big one. The sensation of moving a big toe was just… gone.

With a few more grunts of effort she managed to roll over onto her belly, which was made more complicated by her hooves trying to slip through gaps in the springy net. Once she was upright she shook her head to get her long hair out of her face; luckily the breeze co-operated.

She was lying on a large net woven of slightly stretchy, bright pink climbing rope. Someone had obviously set this up to catch her; there were chromed braces bolted onto the cliff and suspension ropes above her that kept the net in place. At the edge of the net, dangling next to the cliff face, was a tent. She recognised it from rock climbing magazines as an expensive Portaledge shelter, which she recalled consisted of a folding aluminium shelf with a tent you could attach to the top of it, all suspended from ropes anchored to the cliff above.

She glanced down through the net and saw that she was at least one hundred feet from the boulder strewn foot of the cliff. Laura whimpered. Not because of the height, she didn't mind heights, but because she knew there was no chance she'd ever see her ring again. Not unless she woke up anyway. She wondered if she'd ever see Thomas again. There was no sign of him down there, where she'd last seen him by the edge of the forest.

She sobbed and her eyes welled up with tears as an intense pain and pressure filled her chest. Laura hung her head and had what her mother would have called 'a good cry'. Confusion, frustration, feeling abandoned and afraid. It was a painful cry. A sobbing, sniffling breakdown with tears dripping from her cheeks and snot dribbling from her nose. But it helped. She felt a little better as it wound down, a bit more relaxed if tired and wrung out.

She rubbed at her nose, or tried to anyway, and ended up clouting herself with a surprisingly hard hoof. Wincing at the pain she gasped a short laugh at the mild pain and her own clumsiness. Rubbing the snot off of what felt like a strangely gigantic nose with her cardigan sleeve, Laura wished she had a proper hankey or even some paper towels. She snorted and snuffled, swallowed a lot of mucous and wiping her damp face turned into rubbing a hand… hoof… over her head. The fleshy part behind the hard hoof was quite sensitive and she felt around, trying to figure out what she looked like.

Her head was surprisingly human-like. Mostly round, unlike a proper horse's long head, and her snout was small, more like a pug dog than a horse. With her tongue she felt rows of flat teeth at the front, a slight gap where there should be pointed canines, and then rows of molars running down the sides. She closed her eyes and gently ran a hoof over her face. Her eye felt huge! She ran the hoof over one of those ears that wiggled and rotated so unsettlingly and then up onto the top of her head where she felt a slightly stiff crest of mane hair.

Laura imagined that she looked like a child's drawing of a baby horse, all big head and big eyes. No proper horse was flexible enough to run one of its hooves up over its own head like this! She sighed and set her hoof back down onto the web of ropes and lay there for a few minutes, feeling physically and mentally exhausted.

The light was getting reddish and dimmer. Laura realised that the sun was starting to set, even though it had been morning only a few… How long had it been anyway? She didn't think that it had been more than an hour since she landed on the net. Regardless, it was probably a bad idea to be lying here after sunset as the air was already feeling a bit cool.

Time to investigate the tent then.

Gritting her strange teeth and pursing her lips, Laura struggled to control her unfamiliar legs and arms. She didn't try to stand. That would have been foolish even with her actual arms and legs. Instead, she crawled, pushing with her legs and awkwardly trying to hook her finger-hooves into the webbing to pull herself forward. After a few minutes of struggle, she made it to the tent's zippered door. It was huge! The tent was much taller than it should be, based on what she remembered from marketing brochure photos of happy, handsome climbers bedding down in one. She fumbled at the zipper, which had a large plastic tag attached to it with a carabiner. Flipping it over she saw something that made her gasp.

'LAURA' was written on it. Or rather it had been written on a card which was then heat sealed inside the plastic name badge.

"Thomas!"

It had to have been Thomas who set up the net to catch her and this tent. Had to be! Her mood rebounded from what had been tears only a few minutes ago to relief and joy! Thomas was alive and even if he wasn't here, he was taking care of her. He'd saved her life! She closed her eyes and muttered, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Though she couldn't say if she were thanking Thomas or a God she didn't believe in, she was grateful anyway.

Laura smiled and wiped a soggy cardigan sleeve against her cheek, then tried to grab a hold of the slick plastic name tag with one of her hooves. She was still lying on her belly and could only press a hoof down onto it or flip at it uselessly with the tip of her hoof. She sighed and crawled forward until her front hooves were resting on the steady aluminium shelf and used her lips to grab the name tag. With a jerk of her too-flexible neck, she tugged the zipper up a few inches. She pushed herself forward with her legs and pushed down with her arms, like doing a push-up, and dragged the zipper a few more inches.

She was surprised by how strong her arms seemed to be, but even rising up as high as she could she only got the zipper partly raised, opening up a small flap on one side. It was enough for her to nuzzle her head inside.

The front half of the tent was empty, just the tent fabric resting on the shelf underneath. In the dimming sunset light, Laura saw three bags in the rear of the tent. One was a large duffle bag and beside it were two of what looked like children's backpacks made of neon pink fabric and with Dora the Explorer graphics splashed all over them. On top of the bags were a rolled up blue foam camping mattress and a sleeping bag in its stuff sack.

Pushing and pulling, Laura forced her strange body the rest of the way into the tent.

"Please tell me you left me some water and food, Thomas." She still hadn't had breakfast and was parched and starving!

She crawled over to the pile of supplies and clumsily used her arms to grasp and roll the sleeping mat and bag down onto the floor. Another helpful plastic tag on the green duffle bag made it relatively easy to unzip. Inside she found three metal bottles, bags of what looked like dehydrated camping food, another bag of black, rip-stop nylon with a red cross on it, some boxes and on top of it all a three-ring binder with her name written on the cover.

Using her mouth she picked up the binder and tossed it on the floor with a jerk of her neck, before diving back in to retrieve one of the aluminium bottles. It was quite a struggle to get it open. She had to sit up, bracing her back against the bags and wedging the bottle between her thighs, holding it upright with her arms so she could twist the cap off with her teeth. Sitting like this made the— it could only be a tail—it made her tail hurt. Inside the bottle was water! It was warm and tasted of metal, but she felt ever so much better after a few sips.

It was difficult work, drinking. Laura had to set the bottle on the 'floor' of the tent, grab the bottle neck in her mouth and lean it a little sideways to get water to flow into her mouth. She was very careful not to knock it over. Getting the screw-on cap back on was much more difficult than getting it off.

She dug around in the dehydrated food and managed to tear open a mylar bag of dehydrated apple slices. She scarfed down most of them and had to struggle with the bottle again to get another drink to wash the dry lump down her throat. She felt much better, not as exhausted and freaked out, anyway. The apples had tasted very, very good!

As the sunlight dimmed an LED light at the peak of the tent started to glow, filling it with a cool white light. Laura looked up at it and figured that it must be solar powered, though she couldn't see any sign of a solar panel on the dangling lamp. It did give her enough light to struggle through getting the foam mattress unrolled and the sleeping bag extracted from its stuff sack, though both of them ended up with a fair bit of spit on them. She crawled onto them and tried to get comfortable. She liked to sleep on her back, limbs spread out all over, much to Thomas' amusement and annoyance. But now lying on her back put an uncomfortable strain on her spine and legs, and her arms kind of curled up to her chest rather than sprawling out. The damn climbing harness digging into her lower back and thighs didn't help either.

Laura flopped onto her left side and lay there for a few minutes, staring at her dimly lit hooves. She wasn't really sleepy, but she was mentally exhausted and could feel a nap coming on. First though, she decided, she was going to get out of the climbing harness and the snot crusted cardigan.

It was quite a struggle, especially the climbing harness. She ended up having to strip out of her capri pants as well just to get it over her hips. In a way, it was fortunate that she seemed to be much smaller now than she had been, as the baggy clothing was easier to remove than it could have been. As she stripped down her tail popped free from the pants and panties and it felt like a muscle cramp finally being relieved. In the dim LED light she had a hard time seeing what her tail looked like. She could move it freely now and flipped the long, striped hair around while trying to get used to the weird sensation.

Deciding to leave the sports bra for now, as it would certainly be a struggle to get out of, Laura nuzzled open the sleeping bag and crawled inside.

As she dozed off she wondered if she would fall asleep here and wake up in a hospital bed with tubes up her nose and Thomas holding her hand.

Laura awoke from a dream about climbing stairs in Quebec City. She'd been chasing someone past the picturesque shops and cafes, probably Thomas but she couldn't remember. It was completely dark now and she could hear a gentle wind rustling through trees. She blinked her eyes and licked her dry lips, then reached up a hand to rub her eyes.

Klonk!

"Fuck! Shitting piss!"

She groaned and more gently reached again to lightly rub her sore eyebrow with what she now remembered was a hard hoof. Laura groaned and whispered, "Jesus Christ, so this isn't a sodding dream."

She was thirsty and hungry again. She would have killed for a cup of tea and a plate of bacon, eggs, beans and toast. Flailing her arms and legs she wiggled her way out of the sleeping bag and sat up. It felt surprisingly natural to sit on her bum with her new, horsey-like legs tucked up and leaning forward with what felt like her middle-finger tips supporting her shoulders. She looked around and blinked a few times. She was effectively blind, there just wasn't enough light to see anything now that the LED light's battery had run out. But she could smell. Closing her eyes she lifted her nose up and sniffed at the air, which made a rather wet snuffling noise.

Pine trees. Dirt. A lot of different plants. Something musky that reminded her of her mum's old golden retriever. Apples. Paper. Aluminium. There were many other smells that she couldn't put a name to, but there were certainly a lot more individual odours than she had ever been able to smell before.

She could also hear a lot more than she had before. The sensation of her now longer ears moving around on the sides of her head was still disturbing. Sometimes they would move on their own, in reflex to a sudden sound. Like that very high pitched cheeping that shot past as something flew by the tent. But she could also make them move, changing the focus of her hearing. She could practically hear the shape of the tent from the light rustling sounds of the fabric moving in the breeze.

She twitched her tail, making it thump against the aluminium platform. Twitch, thump. Twitch, thump. That was such a strange sensation it made the hair on the back of her too-long neck stand on end.

Worried that she was starting to freak herself out, Laura decided to try and find something to eat. She vaguely stumbled to her feet… hooves… and wobbled the short distance to where she thought the duffle bag was. On the way, she managed to kick over the bottle of water that she'd left out and nearly fell on her face. Fortunately, it didn't go far and she was easily able to track its location with her freakish new ears.

After nosing around in the bags of dry food she detected the smell of bananas and pulled that bag out with her mouth. Awkwardly gripping it between her furry wrists she managed to tear the top off with her teeth and the rich smell of banana chips filled the tent. She nosed the bag open and used her lips and tongue to snatch up a couple of them.

"Mmmf! Oh! So good…" she moaned as she chewed. They tasted a little off, perhaps stale, but that didn't matter. They were sweet!

After eating half the bag she carefully inserted it back into the food pile and crawled over to where the water bottle had rolled. Working carefully she opened it and drank, only spilling a little onto the sleeping bag.

Laura set the bottle to one side and belched, almost clobbering herself with a hoof again as she tried to cover her mouth. She snorted in amusement at how her polite manners were pretty much useless given that there was no one else around. Who expected a horse to have good table manners anyway? For a while she sat in the dark tent, wondering what to do. She was wide awake and had no desire to sleep.

"Might as well get out of this bloody bra, I guess." She'd noticed a distinct lack of jiggle on her chest and if she was really a small horse now her 'girls' wouldn't be on her chest any more would they?

It was quite a struggle to get the stretchy sports bra; wiggling it over her head while shoving at the inside with her hooves. She spent a few minutes rolling on the sleeping bag to deal with the itchies that she only felt once it was off. Laura lay on her side and sighed heavily, causing a strange rumble and low whinny to come out of her mouth. Despite how bizarre this all was, she quickly grew bored. She wished that the LED light was still lit or that she had a torch so she could look through the binder that had her name on it. Maybe Thomas had packed a torch but she didn't want to try looking for it in the dark, not with these clumsy hooves. Most likely she'd have to find it by feel using her lips and that would mean getting spit all over everything. Ugh.

So with nothing else to do, Laura whiled away some time getting used to her strange body. She practised standing up, sitting, lying down and walking the few paces she could manage inside the confines of the tent. In a way, it was easier to do this in the pitch dark, with nothing to go on other than what it felt like her body was doing. After what was probably a couple of hours of self-investigation and movement practice, she flopped down onto the sleeping bag and tried lying on her belly. She found that her legs naturally settled into place but it took a couple of experiments to find a comfortable position for her arms; eventually settling on tucking them up against her chest, rather like a loafing cat.

Laura hoped it wouldn't be too much longer until dawn as she was going to need to pee soon and she imagined that would involve going out onto the net and hanging her ass over the edge. Not something she wanted to do in the dark… or at all, really.

It felt like only a moment later that she awoke with a start and realised that she could see. She must have nodded off and now her bladder was making no bones about it. It was time to perform a high-wire urinary act.

Out of the warm tent into a chilly grey morning, she slowly crawled onto the rope net. She went as far from the tent as she could manage, about six feet, and wiggled around until her bum was hanging over the edge of the net. As she relaxed her bladder she felt her tail start to lift a little and frantically wagged it to one side, getting it out of the way just before the stream shot out. She hummed quietly. Her body was weird and it was embarrassing peeing like this, but at least having a good morning slash still felt nicely relaxing.

After she had finished she crawled around to a more comfortable position and watched as the light increased, bringing detail and colour back to the world. Seeing the forest from above was quite breathtaking, especially as it had layers of mist drifting through it this morning. It was a bit like a fairytale. Which she supposed might be appropriate, given that she'd transformed into some kind of talking horse thing.

She could see her new body now and wiggled her finger-hooves. So damn surreal. Turning her head she tried to get a better look at herself and found that she could pretty much turn her head almost all the way around if she twisted her shoulder a little as well. Yes. It was bloody undeniable that she'd turned into some kind of horse. Her hide was a medium grey colour, matching her hooves, and she had a mane and tail of an intense orange with streaks of red running through it. There was a strange tattoo on the side of her butt that looked like a vividly green plant stem with one leaf but instead of a flower, there was a stylised red heart with angled lines through it. It took her a few minutes to recognise that it was supposed to be a red gemstone cut into the shape of a heart.

Laura checked out her other rump cheek and it had the same picture on it. Reaching back with a far-too-flexible arm… fore leg… she rubbed at it. There were no smears so it didn't seem to be painted on.

"Rriiight… Because it's not enough that I'm a freakish, talking horse thing?" She sighed, closed her eyes and leaned up against the cool rock of the cliff. She desperately wished that Thomas was here to hug her and whisper in her ear that everything was going to be alright. Not that he would recognise her, would he? As her mood started to slip she felt the strangest sensation. It was like someone was near her and felt sad for her. Blinking her eyes open she looked around, and sure enough, she was still on her own, hanging off the side of a cliff.

Weird… but, somehow it made her feel a little better. Like being in trouble as a kid and knowing that your mum or dad was coming to find you.

Laura made her way back into the Portaledge tent and dug under the sleeping bag to find the binder that had been in the duffle bag. There was enough light now that she could read and she desperately hoped there was a letter or something from Thomas. She sat down with it between her front hooves and clumsily flipped it open with her nose. Inside were about a dozen printed pages which had been sealed in plastic.

Dearest Laura.

I'm so sorry that I can't be there with you right now. You must be so confused and upset by what has happened to you. I love you. I wish I could do more than just write you this letter. As you might have realised by now, I set up the safety net, tent and some supplies for you. If you're reading this then it worked! God, please let this work.

Right now you are almost certainly a small horse. A 'pony'. The same thing has happened to a lot of other people, including me. I'm now a white unicorn with a purple mane and a yellow dodie1 for a 'cutie mark'. That's what 'everypony' is calling the pictures on their rumps.

I'll include a document that one of my friends wrote to give to people who've just returned. It will give you some basic info on what the 'Event' is, about your body and also some survival tips. God but I wish I could be there for you when you return, but nopony knows how long it will be before you come back. I'm sorry if all of this is a bit much. Read that guide, it will help!

I've put together some food, a pair of saddlebags (I hope Dora the Explorer is okay. :)) and I've tried to set up a safe place for you in Welsford. There's a rope ladder tied at the end of the platform, untie it and it should drop to the ground so you can climb down. If you have wings DO NOT TRY FLYING! Use the ladder, it's safer until you learn how to fly.

You'll find a map at the back of this book. Take the satellite phone to the house I've marked and charge it up using the solar panels, then dial '0'. That will put you in touch with somepony who can help.

I'm living in what used to be Boston with some friends I've made since I returned. Please come and find me! I love you, Laura.

Your Thomas.

X X X O O O

Laura sat for a few moments, trying to understand everything she'd just read. She read it again. A lot of it seemed like nonsense but the important parts boiled down to; Thomas is alive, he's a unicorn (!?) and is living in Boston. And he wanted her to find him there. Or, wait… no. He said to go to Welsford first. But why wasn't he here right now? It sounded like he 'returned' before she had. How long ago?

Flipping to the back of the book she found a simple hand-drawn map showing where she was at the Cochrane Lane Cliffs and a red line going along several roads, trending north to a small town where one of the house-squares had a red 'X' through it. Laura vaguely recalled Welsford. They had driven through it on their way to the Cliffs and had stopped briefly at the town's only petrol station and market. The 'X' marked house was across the road from that petrol station.

She flipped back to the first page and re-read Thomas' letter again before nosing to the page after the map. In big, bold type at the top of the page it read; Why The F**k Am I A Pony? and Other Important Questions Answered.

Laura couldn't help smirking at the title. At least whoever wrote it had a sense of humour and enough wit to try and relieve tension by starting with a vulgar joke.

The rest of the guide was a pretty straightforward, if unbelievable, explanation of the situation she found herself in. The 'Event' happened when the entire Milky Way galaxy had become poisonous to humans because of a new radiation that everypony (everyone?) was calling 'Magic'. The ponies in another universe 'next door', called 'Equestria', had cast a 'spell' on the world that turned everyone into an Equestrian life form that could survive the 'magic'. Mostly they turned into ponies of three different 'tribes' but there were also some griffins, zebras, dogs, dragons and 'others'. There was a short description of these 'earth pony', 'pegasus' and 'unicorn' tribes.

Laura quickly determined that she was an 'earth pony' since she didn't have wings or a horn. According to the guide, earth ponies didn't cast spells and couldn't fly, but were very strong and excellent farmers. Ugh. Just her luck to 'return' as a bog standard pony. She'd been nothing special before this Event, and she was nothing special now. It figured.

The guide explained that people didn't all become ponies at once, but would be 'returning' for many years to come. It didn't explain why, but she'd experienced it herself so it was probably true. One moment she'd been climbing and the next she'd landed on a structure that had obviously taken Thomas some time to build.

There apparently were some humans who survived the Event unchanged, but the guide didn't give much detail other than it was safest to avoid them. That struck Laura as being very strange but there was no explanation, just 'avoid'. She shuddered, imagining that maybe the last 'true' humans were hunting or experimenting on people who came back as ponies.

There was a list of places where ponies… people… had gathered to create new towns. Alexandria (Paris, Illinois), Ponytown (Toronto, Ontario), Beantown (Boston, Massachusetts), Grand-Sault (Grand Falls, New Brunswick) and a few others. There was a list of radio frequencies for various stations that were broadcasting and a brief guide on using a satellite telephone.

The remaining pages of the guide was a York Notes on wilderness survival, for ponies. What to eat, what to not eat. Where to look for shelter. What kind of animals to watch out for. That kind of thing.

Laura looked at the map in the back for a while, then flipped back to Thomas' letter. She read it yet again, now with a little more understanding of what had happened. Or at least what she'd read had happened anyway, she was sceptical of a lot of it. Magic. Time travel. It was a lot to be asked to believe in with bugger all proof.

One thing she couldn't deny, she was a 'pony' now.

A pony who needed to get to Welsford and make a phone call.

Digging into the duffle bag, Laura grabbed a mylar bag labelled 'Vegetarian Chilli'. It was more-or-less noon after all. She noticed one of the boxes was labelled as being a campground kitchen which included a pot, mug, plate, bowl, utensils and a portable wood stove. She hoped Thomas had included tea bags somewhere. But for now, cold chilli would do.

It took far too much clumsy effort but she got the bag open and poured water into the dry ingredients, which didn't smell promising. Wrinkling her nose, or muzzle, she set it to one side to soak for a while and went back to investigating the contents of the duffle bag. Along with the food and camp kitchen, there was a box labelled 'Iridium 9505A Rental Kit' with the photo of what looked like a very old cell phone on it. Some warm, child-sized clothing that included a sweater, hat and a waterproof windbreaker, but strangely there were no pants. A small First Aid kit. A multi-tool that was a hammer, hatchet and pliers with a slew of other tools folded into the handles. Sure enough, there was a hand-cranked LED light on a headband. There were a few other odds and ends; a whistle, a mylar blanket, a small mirror…

"A mirror!" Laura grabbed the mirror up with one of her hooves, which if she had stopped to think about it would have made her wonder how exactly she had managed it. Instead, she held it up at arm's length and tried to get a good look at herself.

Her face reminded her a little of the photos she'd seen of very young horses. A foal. But with much, much larger eyes. Freakishly large! They were a very intense blue, not the warm brown eyes that she used to complain were boring. These new eyes were intense! Laura blinked a few times and rotated the mirror to see more of her face. Sure enough she had leaf shaped pony ears on either side of her head with a long mane that would have been a mohawk if it were cropped shorter, instead it flopped off to the right side of her head in a wave of orange and crimson.

She was… Cute. Plush toy cute, not the pixie-like, round face that she remembered.

Laura sighed and put the mirror down. Her tummy grumbled so she clumsily crawled over to the chilli to see if it was edible. It was a bit crunchy, but with her new muzzle and very long tongue, she was able to scoop it into her mouth without needing a spoon. She had no idea if she could even use a spoon. The flavour was pretty mediocre and being a few years past date didn't help at all. She hoped it wouldn't make her ill. Having the trots would be especially difficult one hundred feet up in the air.

Laura snickered and licked the last of the not-actually-spicy sauce from her muzzle. The trots. Funny stuff.

She looked around the tent and considered what to do next. She stood up, still wobbling a bit on four legs but she was getting used to that, and the sensation of holding her head cranked way back from what would be comfortable for a human. She slowly walked over to the the pair of children's backpacks and nosed at them. They were unzipped and when she checked inside they were empty. Huh. Thomas must have intended for her to pack them herself for some reason. The shoulder straps had been modified so that they were connected to one another and a padded velcro belt connected them at the bottom.

Saddlebags.

Ok. She'd need to finish looking through the supplies and pack the bags before she could walk to Welsford. That would take a while. Even with a wind-up LED light, she didn't fancy the idea of walking at night. The guide was also pretty clear that travelling at night was a bad idea.

Right then. Time to get packing then.

It kept her a busy through the afternoon. Opening boxes, organising, filling the backpacks, trying them on and then repacking to balance them a little better. After that Laura read through the manual for the satellite phone, then the small manual for the First Aid kit, and then she re-read everything in the binder. By then it was getting late so she ate a dry dinner of fruit and nuts, drank more metallic and tepid water, made use of the *ahem* facilities, and then tried to sort out her clothing.

The sports bra was pointless, she'd found the new location of her breasts exactly where they would be on a horse; between her legs. They were so small, much smaller than her petite A cups had been. But that wasn't a bad thing, she realised, as having even her small girls squeezed down between her thighs all the time wouldn't have been comfortable. The cardigan wasn't too difficult to get into once she had laboriously rolled the sleeves up using her hooves and mouth. Awkward, but do-able. The capri pants were useless. Perhaps if she could cut the legs much shorter and fashion a hole for her tail, but as they were they would just be painful to wear. Fortunately, the cardigan was long and hung back over her rump. It would do for now.

Panties? Not without a tail hole. She stuffed them and the pants into one of the saddlebags along with the knitted hat and rain jacket that Thomas had given her. She didn't want to leave the sweater, but there just wasn't any room for it and it wasn't cold enough for a thick sweater.

Laura finished off the water in the first bottle and tucked it into the saddlebags. She had two left, which should be enough for tomorrow's hike. After that, she'd need to fill the bottles from a creek and use the iodine in the First Aid kit to make it relatively safe to drink. It was starting to get dark so she slid into the sleeping bag and hoped that the weather would be good in the morning.

She had a vivid dream about bright colours flickering and a music unlike any she had heard before, but that reminded her a little of wind chimes. Pure, vibrating notes all chiming together in a tinkling harmony that was somehow more beautiful and meaningful than any music she had ever heard before.

Laura's grey muzzle yawned wide and she smacked her lips before crawling out of bed. She was still awkward and a bit clumsy, but she no longer felt like she was going to fall over with every slow step. After a quick breakfast of stale granola bars and water, she bundled up the sleeping bag, only now cluing in that its small size meant that it was made for a child. It was a good thing too since she was going to have to carry it. A couple of loose straps attached it and the sleeping pad to the saddlebags, which she could only hope wasn't getting too heavy for the long walk ahead. She'd packed suitcases and backpacks before, but never something that a horse would carry.

Laura's insides gurgled and she knew that it was time to go. Either she had to be on the ground soon or she'd discover exactly what it was like to poop off a cliff.

Unzipping the door on the other side of the tent was less difficult than opening the first one had been. Probably because Laura was now standing on a relatively stable platform, rather than crawling around on a bouncy net. A couple of days practice using her hooves and mouth probably helped too.

Crouching down she stuck her head out the door and looked around for the ladder. It was attached to the cliff face next to the platform, rolled up like a snail shell. It was made of strong looking plastic-coated wire cable with sturdy, square aluminium rungs. She couldn't imagine how Thomas could have climbed up here to hammer in the bolts into the rock. Magic maybe? He'd written that he had turned into a unicorn after all; the pony tribe that was proficient with magic. She saw that there were two straps wrapped around the ladder with a long metal pin holding them both closed, with another of the big plastic tags attached to the end. Grabbing it with her teeth she pulled and tugged at it until it suddenly slipped free, sending her stumbling back into the tent where she sat down heavily. She missed seeing the ladder fall, but it was very loud! Her ears pinned back against her skull, which helped block out the worst of it.

Crawling up to the edge of the shelf again she looked down as the ladder stopped swinging and settled into place. She gulped and hoped she was ready for this. She loved climbing but had never free climbed much, certainly never this high and never, ever as a bloody horse!

Fine. Right. No point in delaying, it would just give her time to get more anxious.

Laura scooted under the saddlebags, sat up and used her mouth to pull one side of the belt across her belly, pinned it with a hoof and pulled the other side across. She pressed the velcro together with a hoof and then stood up and shook herself, wiggling her hips to check if it was on tight. She sat, tugged the belt open and tried again. Once she was more-or-less satisfied she walked to the edge of the shelf.

She'd have to go out butt first. So she turned around, crouched low and stretched a hoof out and felt around for the ladder. It was nerve wracking, feeling for the rungs with solid chunks of hoof which were effectively numb. Once both of her hind hooves felt stable she let her weight settle onto them and slowly eased herself backwards out of the tent. She then reached behind herself with one of her way too bendy fore legs and found a rung to hook the hoof over. A little more shuffling and sliding and she had all four of them on the ladder.

Laura paused for a moment to catch her breath. But she felt good! That was probably the most difficult part, just step-by-step to the ground now and she didn't feel even a little bit tired yet.

It was still very awkward to reach down with a rear hoof and feel around for a rung, but her fore legs were surprisingly good for hooking over the rungs and supporting her weight. It certainly felt strange, a bit like hanging from just her middle fingers, but they were very strong middle fingers.

About a dozen rungs down she started to run into trouble. The damn saddlebags were slipping despite being so tight that it hurt. They really needed some kind of strap to hook around her shoulders as well. Too late now though, she was committed to getting to the ground, one way or another. A few more rungs and it became obvious that she wasn't going to be able to go on like this, the straps were sliding down around her thighs, making it difficult to move her legs and the top straps were painfully crushing her tail.

She stopped to catch her breath. Fortunately, she didn't feel tired at all and it was with a calm, collected mind that she considered what to do. Laura glanced over her shoulder and saw that she was maybe halfway down with another fifty feet or so to go. Not a chance in Hell she could jump without breaking something. There really wasn't any choice, the saddlebags would have to go.

Bracing her rear hooves and making sure that her right front hoof was solidly hooked over a rung, she slid her left hoof down her chest and tried to reach the belt. It was just barely in reach and it took several tries before she finally slid her hoof under the end of the strap. Straining to keep her hoof in place she wedged the velcro apart, inch by inch. Until it suddenly gave and the saddlebags slipped away. As she hooked her left hoof over the rung again there was a loud crash from below, followed a couple of smaller ones and a bit of tumbling and clanking.

Laura winced and hoped nothing was too badly smashed up.

The rest of the descent was easy, though there was a bit of sliding down the slope once she let go of the ladder. She fell on her face and ended up with a snootful of dirt and dry pine needles. After snorting them out of her nostrils and rubbing the dirt away against a sleeve, she slowly walked around looking for the colourful saddlebags. And thank goodness they were colourful because it made them easy to find.

Taking stock of the damage was depressing. One of the full water bottles had ruptured and soaked everything in its backpack, including the satellite phone, which had come through with just a scuffed case and a small crack in the plastic over the screen. She could only hope that it would still work and that she could make it to town with the remaining bottle of water. She drank what little remained in the broken bottle and abandoned it.

After strapping herself back in she looked around for the trail back to the road, finally spotting a blue blaze marking on one of the trees. It was slow going as she was not used to walking on four legs. It felt like crawling only somehow crawling on her tippy toes and finger tips, while she felt very top heavy and prone to tipping over. There wasn't much sign of the trail that they'd used to hike to the cliff only a few days ago, the underbrush was thick and her shortness made it difficult to spot the trail markings.

She was pushing her way through some brush and spitting leaves out of her mouth when it struck her that they actually tasted pretty damn good! Much better than the freeze dried food she'd been eating while stuck up on the cliff. So she grazed a little as she walked, feeling adventurous even though she had no idea if what she nibbled on would make her sick or not. The guide's list of edible plants was certainly much longer than the poisonous ones.

After far too long a hike she finally stepped out of the underbrush and into a grassy meadow. On the far side, she saw what looked a bit like a small shack, one that was familiar in a queer way. Slowly walking over to it through the chin-high grass she suddenly realised that it was the caravan that she and Thomas had rented!

It was a wreck!

Laura walked slowly around it, pushing grass out of the way to get a good look. It was filthy and rust was everywhere, both plainly visible and bubbling under the paint. The tires were flat and slowly disappearing into the ground. One of the windows was smashed and the door hung open, half torn from its hinges. Any doubts she'd held that a lot of time had passed were gone.

She stopped for a little while to drink some of her last bottle of water. Laura was tempted to go inside and have a look around, but she didn't like the idea of going into an enclosed space that some animal might have made into its den. She strapped the saddlebags on again and started walking down the overgrown dirt road that led to the road to town. She had a house to find and a satellite phone to try.

Hopefully, Thomas would pick up.

Author's Note

1 dodie: a baby pacifier

Please PM me if you see any typos or other errors. :twilightsmile:

Edit: Now with a bunch of fixes courtesy of Cross Lament :derpytongue2:

2 - Encounter in Welsford

He was soaking wet, cold, and practically deaf from the constant roar of heavy rain pounding against the motorcycle's windscreen and the skullcap helmet strapped to his head. The Ural's two-piston engine rumbled beneath him at barely more than an idle as Chicken Whiskers rode at a mere 30 kph into the gusting wind.

Muck was flung up from the road by the front tyre, spattering his numb, pink-furred face. He turned his head and spat, licked his flat front-teeth, and spat again. Pursing his mouth closed he hunched down behind the minimal shelter of the windscreen, but was soon grinning like a lunatic again.

Chick should have been miserable, but riding in crappy weather like this was exciting!

The Ural slithered around underneath him and his grin slipped a little as he fought to keep the heavy bike in the road's centre.

Maybe a little too exciting.

It had only been a steady drizzle when he'd left Fredericton at sun-up, but as he headed south on the 101 it had slowly gotten worse and worse. Even on a good day the deteriorating road surface would have made for a slow ride and taking an entire day to reach his destination: a communal farm down on the coast. With the rain blinding him and turning the crumbling, muck and leaf covered road into a slippery mess, he'd be lucky to make it halfway before having to stop for the night.

The last place he could have stopped, Wirral, was many kilometres behind him now, so he had no choice but to push on to Welsford. Sure, there were a few abandoned houses beside the road but none of them were maintained and Chick didn't feel like sleeping under a sagging roof and sharing his bed with spiders and raccoons. He would have been in Welsford already if not for having to perform his duty of stopping in each small town, honking the horn and waiting for any new Returnees to show themselves. Other scavs might skip that job under these conditions, but Chick was too dutiful for his own good sometimes. Plus you never knew when a fat bonus would come trotting out of the wilderness.

He sneezed and blew a spray of rain and watery mucous onto the Ural's minimalist instrument panel. Ugh. He shook his head, momentarily scattering beaded water off of the helmet's flip-down visor. No point in worrying about it, the rain would wash it off and the bike was a muddy mess anyway. A little snot wouldn't hurt it.

Leaning on the vibrating handlebars he raised his head up so he could see past the nearly opaque windscreen. There was a lake coming up on the left and a couple of abandoned houses on the right looked familiar. The next one should be a burned skeleton, just a few beams of black char reaching up out of the bush. He'd be in town in another, oh, half an hour or so.

A rivulet of cold water snuck inside his bright yellow poncho and ran down the back of his neck, under his leather jacket, and soaked into the fur on his withers. He shuddered but had to focus on controlling the bike as the front tire slithered around on a mass of rotting leaves and muck. The sidecar's tire lifted off the road but he quickly got it back down with a careful blip of the throttle and shift of his weight to the right. Once the bike was stable again he eased up a little on the fuel by rotating his right fore leg so that he wasn't leaning quite as hard on the paddle attached to the rotating throttle grip. The engine coughed and with his left forehoof he pressed the bodged-on clutch lever next to the fuel tank, then kicked it down a gear with his left hind hoof. All while carefully managing the throttle to keep the drive wheels of the bike and side-car from breaking traction.

Oh yes, riding in shitty weather was exciting alright.

He had to be gentle and smooth with the bike's controls or it would kick him in the ass and he'd be chewing pavement. Ugh. He wasn't going to make it to Welsford before dark after all. Merde!

Nearly a soggy hour later the motorcycle's headlight barely illuminated a set of rusting train tracks and then Highway 7's concrete bridge as he rode under it and into Welsford. He passed a dozen or so dark and abandoned houses on either side as he slowly rode to his overnight refuge from the storm. He vaguely saw something in the road — several somethings — at the 'T' intersection of the 101 and some nameless north-south road.

Chick grimaced and was grateful he'd spotted the hazard in time, though it didn't really matter since the driveway into the gas station came up first. He turned right, leaning his weight towards the sidecar to keep its wheel on the ground, and rode past an abandoned eighteen-wheeler truck that sagged in the parking lot. Its tires were deflated and rust was slowly eating the trailer. One of the rear doors hung open and wobbled a little in the wind, but it had rusted solid and wasn't likely to start banging in the wind and keep him awake. The truck's cargo had long since been scavenged for anything useful, as had the gas station. But it was dry and used frequently by other scavs, so it would do for a night.

He rode under the gas station's canopy and pulled up next to the useless pumps. Pressing down on the clutch he left it in gear and flicked the red kill switch on the handlebars. The engine coughed and rumbled to a clattering stop. Chick sat back on the sopping wet sponge of sheepskin that covered the saddle and relaxed for a few minutes, just quietly breathing and consciously relaxing his humming muscles. He reached up a hoof and clumsily pushed at the chinstrap buckle for his white skull-cap helmet and then carefully slid it off of his head. He knew that it would be pretty much useless in a crash, especially after he'd had notches cut out of each side for his ears, but it was better than nothing. He set it down on the fuel tank and then braced his right rear hoof on the sidecar, reached down to hook his fore hoof around the parking brake lever and yanked it up.

Satisfied that the bike wasn't going to roll away he swung his right leg over the saddle and hopped down to the damp concrete. After a solid day of riding in cold rain, his ears felt like they were frozen, his muscles ached, and his rump was tingling and numb. He spent a few minutes trotting back and forth beneath the canopy to get his blood moving again. The sound of his hooves clopping against the concrete was difficult to hear over the loud drumming of rain on the metal roof overhead. Or maybe that was just from hours of listening to the Ural's engine and the rain pounding on the windscreen. Too bad they didn't make ear plugs for ponies. Chick sat down and rubbed at his ears, then shook his head and slung a spray of water off the tip of his mucky pink ponytail.

He rooted around in one of the bike's ammo-can saddlebags for a headlight, slipped it on and scrambled part way back onto the Ural to flip off the headlight and retrieve his key from the ignition. He tucked it into a pocket in the leather jacket he wore under the plastic poncho, then set about checking over the small, two-wheeled trailer attached to the back of the bike. The blue tarp was still secure and the sealed boxes inside were probably still dry on the inside, despite the thin coat of road muck.

Satisfied that everything was okay with his ride and cargo, 'food' and 'sleep' were next on Chick's list of necessities. But he was curious about the lumps he'd seen on the road. He was used to dodging rock slides or branches that had blown down but there were no cliffs or trees nearby.

He grabbed a short, aluminium baseball bat from a holster on the side of the bike and trotted over to the intersection. The rain made him squint and blink but he tried to keep his eyes open and his ears up, wary of any threats. The baseball bat he held in his mouth wouldn't help against a determined attacker but it might convince an animal to look for easier prey or a desperate Returnee to talk rather than fight. Nothing said 'back off' quite like an earth pony swinging a baseball bat at your fragile bones.

The lumps turned out to be head-sized, round rocks. As he played the beam of his headlight over them he realised that they were arranged in the shape of an arrow, pointing at… He looked up. That was probably a house nestled in the trees, but it was too dark to tell and his light wasn't strong enough for him to see that far. He squinted and made out a rectangular orange glow that flickered a little. A window. And it looked like somepony was home and had a fire going.

He irritably kicked at one of the rocks and snorted some water out of his nose. All signs pointed to a Returnee who had set up this dangerous hazard to get attention. Well, best not disappoint them. Maybe he'd have somepony to talk to and somewhere warm and dry to sleep tonight, instead of a damp sleeping bag in the office of the Circle K.

After a short, soggy walk across an overgrown gravel driveway he could see more of the house. It had a long set of stairs at the front and shorter stairs on the south side going up to a covered porch. Chick reached up and switched off the LED light strapped to his head, then cautiously walked up the stairs, using his hoof tips to feel for each sagging step. He hoped that the rain drumming on the porch roof would cover any creaks. He stood up on his hind legs and hooked his hooves onto the glowing window's sill so that he could peer inside.

There was a small, black wood stove on the far side of the room with a fire burning behind its glass door. In the flickering light he saw two stuffed chairs and a long couch filling most of the room, with half-empty book shelves running along one of the walls. A very large screen TV hung from the wall in front of the couch, but it was of course not switched on. Television had long since ceased to be a thing.

Chick didn't see anypony in the room but he could only see the back of the couch and it was large enough for three ponies to lay on.

The house had a lot of other rooms too.

He slowly dropped back down to the wooden porch floor and tip-hooved over to the door. Hoping that he wasn't doing something he'd regret he flicked on his headlight, knocked three times and then quickly walked back to the end of the porch so he'd have a head start. Just in case.

His ears swivelled about but the rain beating down on the roof drowned out any sounds from inside, so Chick just had to wait patiently with no sign of anypony responding to his knock. He was thinking of knocking again when the door jerked open a centimetre, then slowly creaked opened as the resident nosed at the crack and then poked their head outside.

She was a grey pony, sans horn so at least he was probably safe from magical attacks. Her bright orange and red mane shone like a safety vest in the bright, white light of his headlight. She squinted in his direction and since she didn't seem to be threatening he turned his head to one side so he wasn't blinding her.

Chick coughed and said, "Bonjour. Hello."

Pink. Laura couldn't get over how so incredibly pink he was!

When she'd answered the door and had been blinded by his headlamp, his gravelly tenor greeting had brought to mind images of Christian Bale or Hugh Jackman. A very yummy-sounding man's man voice.

But when she'd invited him inside and he'd shed his bright yellow rain poncho, 'Hugh Jackman' turned out to be a little pink pony wearing a black leather jacket. Well, 'little' relative to a human. He was taller and more muscular than she was, though not by much.

Laura had asked him to wait in the entrance, dripping dirty water on the tile while she got him a couple of towels from the stack that she'd gathered from the nearby houses. They all smelled a bit musty but they were clean, at least until the new pony started wiping himself down and squeezing his darker pink mane and tail somewhat dry. He'd been filthy, coated with watery mud by the look of the towels after he was finished.

She noticed he was shivering and common courtesy dictated that she ask, "Would you like to warm yourself next to the fire?"

"Yes, please. Thank you for inviting me in."

He snatched up his discarded leather jacket from the floor and she gestured for him to enter the living room. The newcomer didn't seem to have any compunction about walking around naked but Laura was glad that she at least had her cardigan on. His nudity didn't really seem to bother her though, maybe because it would have been like being upset that a plush toy didn't have pants on. Or maybe it was just that she was chuffed at finally meeting someone after so many weeks alone!

He walked over to the stove, dropped his jacket on the floor, sat down and closed his eyes. A slow smile spread on his muzzle as he basked in the warmth. Laura stood in the doorway and had a good, long look at her first pony… other than herself of course. He was very pink underneath the grime that still clung to his matted fur. His colour reminded Laura of the pale roses that her mum grew in the back garden, while his long, wavy mane and tail were a darker, richer pink. Cerise, perhaps. His hooves matched his darker mane colour, whereas hers matched her grey coat. She imagined that it must be a natural colour variation — whatever 'natural' was for magically transformed pony people — unless ponies painted their hooves. It did look a bit like shiny nail polish.

She snuck a peek at his bum and saw that he had three oval blobs as a rump mark; one green, one tan and the third was a dark brown. She couldn't make out enough detail to figure out what they were supposed to be. The fire-light was rather dim and she'd found that her new, large eyes were not as good in low light as her human ones had been.

Laura wasn't certain how she felt about finally meeting someone after being alone for so many weeks. Excited, yes, but also some trepidation of inviting a stranger into what had become her home. She couldn't defend herself and there were no police to call. But he didn't seem threatening and had politely left his baseball bat outside, leaned up against the house's peeling white-painted siding.

She'd become more comfortable with her own body but seeing another pony gave her a new perspective on things. He looked so small, sitting there in front of the fire, but she knew that he was an adult. Baby ponies must be titchy little things.

She walked into the room and hopped up onto the couch. The twang of its springs brought her guest out of his warmth-absorbing stupor. He coughed and sniffled, stood up, turned around and wagged his tail in front of the fire to fluff up the long hair. Laura walked in a circle on one of the couch cushions before lying down, cat-style with her hooves tucked up under her chest. She wasn't sure when she'd gotten into the habit of turning circles like that but it felt right.

"Thank you for inviting me inside. It's great to get warm after being out in that-", he waved a hoof at the window, "-all day."

His incongruously deep and masculine voice made Laura smirk and shake her head. Minding her manners she replied, "You're very welcome. I'm Laura, by the way."

"I'm Chicken Whiskers but you can call me Chick."

The name was too much and Laura couldn't hold back her laughter. A cute, very pink pony named 'Chicken Whiskers' warming his bum by her fire? It was just too silly! After she'd reined in her laughter a little she saw that he was understandably annoyed by her laughing at his name. The grouchy expression on his cute pony face almost set her off again.

Once she'd calmed down a little she gasped, "I-I'm sorry, Chick. It's just that this is like something out of a children's picture-book."

Fortunately, he seemed to see the humour in it and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it is, isn't it? Laura, right?"

She nodded.

"It's good that you're amused by how weird this is, Laura. Some folks get pissed off or really depressed when they Return. You just came back, right?"

She nodded again and said, "A few weeks ago, so I've had time to go through Denial, Anger and find a little Acceptance. Though yesterday I was sobbing and throwing pans."

He grinned, showing off a row of flat, white teeth. "I still sometimes slip into Denial. You're English, eh?"

"Yes. I was on vacation with my fiance when the Event happened. You're Canadian?"

"Oui, I'm from Montreal. I returned a little over three years ago. Woke up in bed and 'Merde, I'm a little, pink horse', you know?" He wagged his tail again and said, "I think I'm mostly dry now, do you mind if I sit down? I'm exhausted."

She slipped a hoof out from under her chest and waved towards one of the stuffed chairs and said, "Please do."

But he ignored the chair and hopped up onto the other end of the couch and flopped down into much the same belly-down pose but with his legs stretched out in front. He sighed happily and whinnied a little at the end. Laura wrinkled her muzzle at the reek of wet horse, dirt and musky sweat that rolled off of him. Not that she smelled fresh either. Farm fresh, maybe.

"This is nice! I wish I'd checked this house out before. Usually, I set up a sleeping bag in the back of the Circle K across the street. This is much better. Cozy." He wiggled his hooves and asked, "Are you planning on staying here?"

"Oh, no. I would have been on the road south already if it wasn't for the bloody wolves." Laura had heard them howling and had stumbled over the remains of a deer while out foraging. She shuddered at the memory, which was more about the horrifying smell and flies than the quick view of gnawed ribs she had seen before fleeing the scene.

Chick's ears perked up and he said, "I could help you with that if you want. Though there's bugger all in Saint John if that's where you were headed."

"I have to get to Boston. My fiance left me a letter saying to meet him there."

"Your fiance left you a letter? I left one for my parents and for Pépère… uh, my grandfather. But Boston is called Beantown now and I'm headed that way so I could give you a lift. I stay there over winter."

"Really?!" Laura felt a giddy surge of hope and asked, "Maybe you know my fiance then? His name is Thomas Davies, Doctor Thomas Davies."

Chick squinted one of his too-large eyes and his ears flicked to odd angles as he thought for a moment, but he shook his head. "No, never heard of him but he might be going by a pony name now. Do you know when he Returned?"

Frustrated, Laura sighed and shook her head. "No, he didn't say in his letter. Hey, what year is it? And what do you mean by a 'pony name'?"

"It's 2038 and mid-September." Laura gasped but he didn't seem to notice her shock, or didn't care. He tapped a hoof against his chest and said, "My real name, the one I had as a man before the Event, was Félix Landry. But it's kind of a thing that folks take a new name after they Return, or somepony gives them one. I don't know how that started but I heard that it's an 'Equestria' thing. You, ah, seem to know about all of that, right? About the Event, Equestria and stuff?"

Laura wasn't paying attention. All she could think about was the date. Twenty-three years! She'd lost twenty-three years in the blink of an eye. Suddenly her worry that Thomas wouldn't even recognise her and that she wouldn't be able to see the man she loved in a pretty, little unicorn, seemed like such a small thing. She'd frequently worried about the date during the weeks she'd been trapped in this empty town. Worried herself sick wondering how many years Thomas had been out there, living a life and maybe forgetting all about her. Despite the rusty evidence of the caravan she'd hoped it wasn't more than a three or four years. But twenty-three?!

"Laura?"

She sniffled and rubbed a folded leg over her eyes before the tears had a chance to trickle out.

"Are you okay?" His warm voice sounded concerned, which Laura appreciated even if it did nothing to help. He wasn't Thomas. She needed him, right here and right bloody now!

Squeezing her trembling lips together she looked at the strange, pink pony and shook her head. Her voice was tightly controlled but still quavered as she said, "No, no I'm not ok." She swallowed heavily. "S-sorry… about this."

Chick nodded and looked away, plainly uncomfortable with sitting near an emotional woman… mare. Laura sniffled again while he stared intently at the fireplace and his ears slowly rose back up. One twitched and rotated towards her sniffling. She realised that her own ears were pinned right back, an obvious telegraph of her distress but she couldn't get them to rise.

Laura stood up and wobbled slightly on the springy couch cushion. A cup of tea would help. Tea always helped, even if she didn't have any milk, shugar or biscuits to with it. "I'm going to brew up. Would you like a cup?"

Chick jumped to his hooves and shouted, "Merde! You have coffee?!"

His sudden movement and yell startled her and she stumbled off the couch, just barely catching herself before going nose first into the floor. Chick hopped down while she gathered her legs back under herself.

"S-sorry, sorry." He did a nervous little dance while he apologised. "I… Sorry, I just… Please, please tell me you have coffee."

Laura sniffed and shook her head. Men were such excitable children, even when they were little ponies. "Tea. I have tea if you'd like some."

Chick's excited dance abruptly crashed to an end and his expression turned so sad that Laura couldn't help smiling a little. He reminded her of a mopey puppy with those droopy ears.

"Mmm… I also have a little food if you're hungry." She'd mostly been eating what she could forage from a field that used to be a golf course, so there was a little of the camping grub left. The Circle K and all of the houses in town had been picked clean of anything that ponies could eat and what was left was so far gone that a proper human would regret opening the tin.

"Ehh… Sure, please. I have some food but I don't want to go back out to get it." Chick smiled and said, "If you're okay with me crashing here for the night I can fix you breakfast. I have some fresh eggs and bread that's only a couple of days old."

Laura's depression lightened a little at the thought of eggs and toast. "Oh, that would be splendid! Though I'm not sure you'll like what I have on offer." She adjusted her cardigan so it was hanging straighter over her rump and then trotted over to her saddlebags. After nosing around for a moment she pulled out the last two dried meal bags and plopped them down onto the floor. "I have a vegetarian chili, which honestly isn't very good, and lasagna noodles with aubergines."

An odd thought popped into her head while she watched Chick investigate the mylar packages.

"We can eat eggs?"

"Mmhmm. We can eat eggs, milk and cheese." He tapped one of the bags with a hoof and said, "I'll have the not-very-good chili, please. I didn't like eggplant as a man and I'd rather not risk it as a pony. It smells like you have fresh greens too?"

"Oh, yes." With her mouth, she picked up a large wicker basket that was on the floor next to her saddlebags and placed it in front of him. "Salad, if you want some. It's a little damp and wilted but should still be good." It was the remains of her dinner of broad blades of grass, some shrub leaves and a few flowers for garnish. It was surprisingly tasty but Laura had found that it took a lot of it to satisfy her hunger and after weeks of dressing-less salad she was looking forward to Chick's breakfast.

Laura dragged out her cook pot and got a bottle of river water from her saddlebag. She poured the whole bottle into the pot so that there would be some for the chili and probably four small cups of tea. Two for now and some heavily steeped ones in the morning. She slid the lid on and then bit onto the pot's folding, rubber coated handle. Struggling to lift it a few inches from the floor she tottered towards the wood stove. It wasn't so much that it was heavy, just really awkward and her unsure steps made the water slosh alarmingly.

Chick raised his muzzle from the basket, watched her for a moment, swallowed and then walked over. "Here, let me do that."

Laura set the pot down on the floor near the stove. She huffed and said, "I can do it, thank you."

"I'm not saying you can't but it'd be easier for me." He stepped in close, too close and lowered his head down next to hers. "Look, you're walking really well for somepony who's just Returned but I've been on these hooves for a few years, eh?"

She stepped back, as much to get away from his invasion of her personal space as to give up control of the pot. "Alright. Let me get a towel to wipe down the handle for-"

But he'd already grabbed it in his mouth and, much to her surprise, he stood up on his hind legs. Chick walked a stiff but controlled step closer to the stove and, using both fore hooves to steady it, he slid the pot onto its flat top without spilling a drop. Unfortunately, his impressive athletic display also gave Laura an eye-full of what he had between his hind legs. They were also very, very pink. As was Laura's face as she quickly looked away.

There was a loud 'clop clop' as he dropped back down onto all fours. "There we go. See, I bet you can't stand up on- Oh! Crisse! Euh… Sorry about that."

Laura snorted, brushed past him and walked over to the mylar bag of chili lying on the floor.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen stallion bits before. She and a pair of the girls at riding classes had stared and giggled and embarrassed one another about it for hours. But this was a person, not a dumb lump of horseflesh. A cute and abruptly anatomically correct plush toy. Ugh! She tore the mylar bag open with a furious jerk of her neck and almost spilt its contents all over the floor.

Chick pawed at his still sopping wet leather jacket and said, "I'll, ah, go and put my poncho on. It might be dry by now." Though he didn't sound at all hopeful about it or like he was looking forward to putting on a cold and wet poncho. Laura wouldn't have.

"No. No, it's alright." She sighed, unconsciously tugged on her cardigan and asked, "Unless you'd maybe like a towel to wrap around yourself?"

He shrugged and said, "I will if it would make you happy. I'm used to not wearing clothing after living with other ponies for so long. Clothing is optional in most places because it's uncomfortable and mostly pointless. Well, except when somepony does something stupid like I just did. Right in front of a new Returnee too." He sighed, rubbed a hoof across his face. "I'm sorry, Laura. I get stupid when I'm tired but I should have remembered that everypony's a bit body-shy when they Return. I knew a stallion who insisted on wearing pants for like a year after he came back, even though he looked pretty damn uncomfortable and goofy." He chuckled and gave her a hopeful smile.

Laura was grateful that the hacked remains of her poor capri pants were safely hidden away in a trash bin behind the house. She had clumsily tried to alter them using the multi-tool but after one trial fitting, it was obvious that it would never work. Chick was right that it would have looked silly and been a pain to wear.

Chick slowly walked over to the salad basket and kept a wary eye on her as he nibbled up the last of the grass and leaves with his mobile lips. It was kind of pointless to badger him into wearing a towel after she'd already seen the goodies and there was little to see when he wasn't up on two-legs, waving it about.

She sighed and shook her head, "No, it's fine. I shouldn't let something like that upset me if, as you say, no one really wears much any more. So… You've lived with other ponies since you Returned? In Beantown?"

He snuffled around in the basket, chasing after a few flower petals and behaving so much like a simple horse that for a moment Laura felt a strange confusion over if he was really a person or not.

After licking his lips he spoke, which shattered that momentary impression. "Sometimes, yeah. I usually spend the summer in Grand-Sault" — it sounded like he said 'Ground Saw' — "which is a couple of days north. It's the biggest town in Nouvelle Acadie, a region that's parts of what used to be New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. It's a nice place and they've kept the hydro dam running, so they have electricity all year throughout the whole town. Nouvelle Acadie and Beantown hired me as what they call a 'Scavenger', though there's a lot more to the job now than just taking abandoned stuff." He waved a hoof at her and with a touch of pride he said, "Like finding and helping Returnees. Mostly I visit the small holdings all over the Maritimes and bring them mail, news, media and I do a little trading."

Laura shook her head and said, "It sounds positively medieval."

"You're not far off. Nouvelle Acadie has something like a police force and they protect the local farmers in exchange for food. Which is a bit like medieval lords and serfs, though a lot more égalitariste. The big towns stay in touch with one another for trade and they have an agreement to be just and civil to their citizens and one another." He grimaced, "I heard that it was pretty rough the first few years with gangs, violence and even slavery in some places. Ponies trying to take instead of make, you know? Things are better now."

"The water's boiling." Laura nodded at the stove.

"Oh, right!"

Between them, they managed to get the bag of chili filled with hot water, with Chick pouring and Laura letting him know when it was enough. She carefully kept her eyes down and on the bag while he did his two-legged pot handling. She had to admit that he was at least trying to avoid flashing her again, keeping his side towards her as much as he could. He was much more in control of his bigger, more muscular body than what little she had managed so far. Walking and trotting had taken some experimenting and skinned knees to learn, but she'd felt proud of teaching herself how to do it with just her memories of horse riding to go by. Lord help her if she had to flee from a wolf or something! Chick could probably canter and gallop, and she hoped that maybe he'd be willing to teach her. Walking was so slow and if the thrill of speed from mere trotting was anything to go by, galloping must be quite a rush.

Fishing out her third-to-last tea bag, Laura tossed it into the pot and a mix of spice, onions, bean and tea scents filled the room. It was no floral potpourri, but she enjoyed the homey smell of food and tea that overwhelmed the stink of musty furniture and wet horse. While they waited she went to the small woodpile in the corner of the room and grabbed a couple of pieces of wood that she'd laboriously chopped using the multi-tool. Chick graciously opened the stove's door so she could carefully stuff them in. They sat down in front of the fire while waiting for the tea and food to steep.

"If I understand this correctly, the towns pay you to help Returnees?" It seemed a bit weird to Laura that they would finance rescuing people out in the middle of nowhere when they were probably struggling to get by themselves. She'd been imagining a rough, Mad Max or Wild West kind of world where the strong ruled and the weak struggled to get by.

Chick nodded and stared into the flames. "They do, yes. But I'd do it even if they didn't pay me. I'd probably be dead if somepony hadn't helped me at the start, as I came back in the middle of winter. Dead for sure if they hadn't found me!"

Despite the heat coming from the stove, Laura shivered at the thought of what could have happened if she'd Returned mid-winter. She would likely have frozen to death on that cliff!

"The towns need Returnees. They need all the hooves they can get to keep things running, you know? To keep the light of civilisation burning. So they pay me and other scavs when we bring somepony new home. Not in money. There are these plastic chit things that are sort of like money, but mostly we trade. Barter."

Laura snorted, "What? So there's a bounty on us?"

He laughed and stood up. "No, not like that. Not like slavery or anything. It's just a bonus, though we do get paid more if we bring somepony with really useful skills to a town. Like a doctor or engineer." He walked over to the steaming bag of chili and nosed it open to take a sniff.

"I afraid you won't get much of a bonus for fetching me to a town. I doubt they'll have any use for a dabbler in The Arts." She stood up and busied herself with getting her two camp mugs set up to pour tea into.

Chick blew into the bag a few times and said, "You'd be surprised what they need out there. Some ponies in Grand-Sault shoot TV shows so they're always happy to meet somepony who's into acting or has film-making experience."

Choking out a short, disbelieving laugh Laura asked, "TV shows? Really?"

"I have the latest seasons on thumb drives to trade with. Folks watch them on laptops, iPads, and cell phones. They love it."

He stuffed his muzzle into the bag to tentatively scoop up a little of the chili with his tongue and Laura had a quick flash of a horse munching on a feed bag again. She shook her head and bit down on the pot's handle so she could pour the tea. A little of the precious liquid ended up on the floor, but it was better than her first attempts had been. She placed the pan on the floor next to the stove.

"May I ask what mark you have on your rump?" Chick asked, glancing at her cardigan-covered backside.

With a hoof she gently shoved one of the steaming mugs towards Chick and said, "I have a flower cutie mark, so I imagine that I'll end up farming."

Chick looked thoughtful as he chewed. He swallowed, grimaced and said, "You're right, this is pretty awful. And, yes, we earth ponies usually end up doing the farm work. You know about cutie marks and the three different tribes of pony?"

She slurped a bit of tea from her mug, which she left on the floor rather than trying to pick up. It was undignified but much safer. "Oh, yes. Thomas left me a binder of helpful information that included a guide about what had happened."

"'Why The Fuck Am I A Pony?'"

Laura chuckled and said, "Yes. It said that 'cutie marks' show off what a pony's special talents are? I don't know why mine is a flower as I had a brown thumb when I still had thumbs."

Chick swallowed another mouthful and said, "It could be metaphorical. Maybe you'd be a great teacher? Helping young minds bloom, kind of thing? At least you didn't end up with a dud cutie mark like this mare I knew whose special talent was search engine optimisation."

"What's your mark?"

He frowned and glanced at his rump, then turned a little so that the light of the fire fell on it. "I have three coffee beans. Before the Event, I owned and ran a small café in Montreal. I imported green beans, roasted them myself, and our coffee was the freshest in town. The best. I like to think so anyway. But now, well, nopony's importing coffee anymore." He shrugged and reached for his mug with both hooves, picked it up and held it to his muzzle in a very human-like way that Laura envied. Perhaps he could teach her that too.

He gulped it down in a few swallows, set the mug down next to the pot and said, "Ahhh… that was good! Thank you, Laura. It's not coffee but it's been a long time since I've had actual tea!"

"You're welcome." Laura took another slurping sip from her own cup. The familiar scent and taste were soothing her frazzled nerves.

"If you don't mind, I'm going to crash out. Is it okay if I sleep in here near the fire?"

"Please do."

She was going to suggest he take the couch as she was smaller and could more easily curl up on one of the chairs. But he was already making his way to the one closest to the fire, which meant she'd have her usual spot on the couch.

He started to snore pretty much the moment he laid down.

Laura smirked and tried not to make too much slurping noise as she struggled to drink the last of her tea. She was tempted to try his double-hoof grip on the mug but had visions of spilling hot tea all over herself. It was past her usual bedtime and she was wrung out from a day of gathering food, practising her walking gaits, and of course, worrying. At least there was less to worry about now. She'd been found and would soon be on the road to… Beantown.

She yawned, not bothering to hide it behind a hoof. She spent a few moments clearing the empty bag and mugs, just nosing them to the wall so nopony would step on them, and then walked out into the hallway. Groping around in the near-dark she got one of the larger towels onto her back and returned to the living room to spread it out over Chick's sleeping form.

It was difficult and she was sure he would wake up as she struggled to get it spread out, but he was dead to the world. With her guest taken care of she bit into her sleeping bag, hauled it up onto the couch and crawled inside.

Chick's rumbling snores were rather comforting as she drifted off.

Author's Note

Please PM me if you spot any typos or issues with the French. I'm not a native speaker by any stretch of the imagination and I'm relying on the Internet to help me with it.

Now with a few edits courtesy of Cross Lament. :twilightsmile:

3 - Hitting the Road

Cold air blasted past Laura's cheeks and she laughed joyfully, sending plumes of her breath streaming out behind her. She twisted her hips to angle her skis and sent a wave of the glittering white powder-snow high into the air. She heard Thomas laughing behind her and glanced back over her shoulder. He wore a bright red and yellow snow-suit and waved his poles about as he carved a similar sweeping path through the knee-deep snow. They swooped down the gentle white slope together, shooting past dark green pine forest on either side. Making their playful way down towards the valley floor where a charming lodge, hot toddies and snuggle-time by the fire waited.

An abrupt and intense sensation of déjà vu struck her, which was such a bizarre thing to experience while engaged in intense sport that for a moment Laura zoned out while carving a turn. The slope steepened abruptly and she snapped back into the moment, startled by the sudden acceleration. Faster and faster she shot down the steep slope, snow flying up into her face and filling the air around her. She tried to angle her skis to brake but it had no effect.

Frantic, she looked around but there was no sign of Thomas, just black trees whipping past and flurries of snow making it impossible to see. She shrieked his name as she went into free fall and plummeted in an avalanche of blinding white.

Laura jolted awake.

She groaned and struggled weakly inside of her child-sized sleeping bag, eventually wiggling her way out of its warm confines. Gently rubbing at her face with the crook of a foreleg reminded her that she wasn't entirely human anymore.

The fire had burned down to a weak, red glow so there was very little light to see by and the room was chilly. Her guest's rumbly snores almost sounded like repetitive, distant thunder as it mixed with the white-noise of rain on the porch roof. Laura yawned and slipped off of the couch, her ears twitching at the sudden clatter of her hooves on the scuffed wood floor. Walking slowly and as quietly as she could she made her way to the small woodpile, using her sensitive muzzle to follow the edge of the couch. With her mouth she carefully picked up a couple of pieces of firewood and walked over to the glow of the fire.

The door squeaked loudly as she opened it but Chick's snores didn't falter. She carefully placed the wood inside, then picked up the metal poker in her mouth to shove them into the bed of glowing coals. The first time she'd used the poker she'd worried about injuring her teeth, but they were much stronger than her human chompers had been and the gap where her canines used to be made for a convenient grasping spot for the poker's handle.

She swung the door shut, her ears flicking flat briefly at the high-pitched squeak, and then sat and watched for a little while as the wood started to burn. Chick grumbled something and his legs flailed a bit under the towel she had draped over him. Laura wondered if he was also dreaming more since he came back. She yawned and slowly walked back to the couch and her warm sleeping bag. Though she enjoyed dreaming about being human and about Thomas, they always ended with waking up alone and as a damn pony.

Well, at least she wasn't alone anymore.

A creaking of chair springs and the sound of small hooves on the floor woke Laura up. Half-awake and with the sleeping bag pulled over her head, her ears twitched to follow his clip-clopping progress to the front hallway. There was a loud plastic rustling as he pulled on his poncho, followed the door creaking open and closed. Clomp, clomp, clomp as he walked along the porch and then nothing but the quiet rain once more.

Anxiety that the only person she'd met in weeks had just left almost drove her out of her sleeping bag. But, she was too comfy and warm, and the quiet white-noise of rain hitting the house lulled her into a relaxed doze.

She need not have worried, as Chick's return was announced by a steady metallic clanging sound. The door creaked and the loud clomping of his hooves and loud clanging jolted her fully awake. Curious, she squirmed her head out of the sleeping bag and squinted in the grey light as he walked across the living room. With a rattling thump he slid a pair of large, beige canvas saddlebags off his back. A frying pan and two old-and-abused looking metal bottles hung from straps; the source of the metal clanging. It was as effective as an alarm clock and about as welcome.

Laura yawned and felt grateful that he'd put on some clothing. A long, armless t-shirt that covered him from neck to rump with thin black fabric. It was a little baggy and contrasted strongly with his bright pink fur and mane.

She struggled out of her sleeping bag and down onto the floor. Grey light streamed in through the open window and the room had gone chilly once more as the fire burned down. He was busy unstrapping the frying pan and bottles, and not looking in her direction, but she still felt horribly naked and exposed as she struggled into her cardigan. She felt better as it settled in place over her back and bum. The manky thing was starting to smell and was desperately in need of a wash… or throwing into the fire.

"Good morning, Laura. It is 'Laura', right?" Chick flipped open one of the flaps on his saddlebags and started extracting packages, spreading them out on the floor next to the wood stove.

Laura sniffled and rubbed at her face. "Yes and good morning, Chick. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log! Nothing is so relaxing as a comfortable, warm bed after a long ride." He chuckled and wiggled his rump, slapping his short tail against the pictures of coffee beans on his bum. "I can feel my rump again."

Laura smirked and trotted over to the dwindling woodpile. With mouth and hoof-tips she recharged the stove, blowing on the glowing coals to get it blazing again. She carefully slid the now much lighter tea pan onto the stove top to warm. Meanwhile, Chick prepared to make the promised breakfast; unwrapping several very large white eggs and a loaf of dark brown whole-grain bread. Laura sat by the fire and watched him work. It was uncanny how easily he held the eggs to crack them and manipulated the knife to cut the bread. It was almost like he had glue on his hooves.

He glanced at her and asked, "Is scrambled okay? I'm not much of a chef and that's about all I can manage."

"Scrambled is fine, thank you." She waved a hoof at the fork he was holding and asked, "How on earth are you doing that?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, then at his hoof. "Oh! Uh… magic."

"Magic. Riiight."

He laughed at her sarcastic tone and vigorously stirred the eggs with his 'magic' fork, then dropped the wet fork into the frying pan. He looked right in her eyes and in a very serious and intense voice he said, "It is magic. As you travel and meet other ponies and learn what the world has become, if you see something amazing, something you can't understand, something spectacular that doesn't make any sense… Just tell yourself, 'It's magic.' Really. It is."

He grinned impishly and turned to scoop butter out of a crockery pot and into the pan. All Laura could think about was his amazing eyes. They were red! She hadn't noticed them last night but his eyes glittered like rubies even in the washed out grey light coming through the window. Her heart fluttered and she abruptly felt far too warm. She hopped up and walked a few paces away from the wood stove… Chick needed that space to cook anyway.

As he worked, the scent of hot butter, eggs and tea were delightful to her now very sensitive nose.

Chick's cooking was, at best, passable but Laura was in heaven even if the eggs were a little overdone. A touch of salt and pepper from her dwindling supplies and they tasted better than the finest Eggs Florentine — her favourite breakfast dish. There was no way to make toast but she wasn't going to complain. Especially when Chick surprised her with milk for their extremely strong tea.

"How do you keep it from spoiling?"

"Hah! As I told you, it's magic of course." He gave the small, metal bottle a demonstrative shake and it rattled, a bit like a can of spray paint. "There's a gem inside that's enchanted to chill and preserve whatever I put in the bottle. A tiny diamond. So be careful not to pour it out."

The bottle was damp with condensation and cool when he passed it to her. She gave the opening a quick sniff and it just smelled of fresh milk, so she poured a drop into her tea. There was a scratching sound as the diamond slid against the metal.

It sounded silly; an enchanted diamond keeping food from spoiling. But she couldn't deny that the milk was as fresh as if it had just come from the fridge. She handed the bottle back and asked, "Where did you get an, umm, an 'enchanted' diamond? Some epic quest to distant mountains?"

Chick snorted a laugh and swallowed a mouthful of bread and eggs before answering, "There's a unicorn in Grand-Sault who specialises in enchantments. I just brought him some diamonds and paid him, though I have to get it renewed every year or so." He waved at his saddlebags, "I have another one that cleans water. They're expensive but worth it! Better than winding up with parasites, you know?"

Laura nodded and hoped that the iodine drops she'd been using to sterilise the river water had been effective. It made the water taste funny, but as Chick pointed out, it was better than getting sick. If these enchanted gemstones really worked, maybe she should consider getting one? Then again, she'd be in Boston… Beantown soon and it shouldn't be an issue. Surely a town would have its own purified water supply?

She munched on a mouthful of eggs and bread. Magic diamonds. A unicorn who enchants diamonds. If only she had her ring she could have gotten it enchanted to do something like glow in the dark so it would be easier to find?

"Hey!" She waved an excited hoof and asked, "Is there a way to find a diamond using magic? A spell or something?"

"Euh, I guess." Chick sipped at his tea and said, "A unicorn might be able to do it, sure."

And neither of them was a unicorn, but Thomas was. She'd have to get him to come back here and together they would search for her engagement ring. She smiled a little, imagining a romantic scene of finding the ring and renewing their commitment at the foot of the cliff where they had been separated. She wrinkled her nose and looked at her left hoof. They'd have to bring a chain so she could wear it around her neck or something.

She finished off breakfast and sipped at her tea, having to stuff her muzzle down into the mug sitting on the floor. Laura felt a bit embarrassed about having to eat and drink like an animal, especially when Chick picked up his mug to hold it to his lips. Fortunately, his long shirt hung down to cover everything while he sat upon his haunches, holding the mug between his fore hooves.

Blushing, she lowered her head to try and lap up her tea.

He murmured something to himself in French and said, "Here, now. Let me give you your first lesson in magic."

Laura licked tea off of her lips and chuckled. "You're going to teach me magic? I thought only unicorns could do that."

Chick set his mug down on the floor near Laura's and shook his head. "All ponies have magic in them, some more than others but all of us can do this trick."

Still sitting on his rump he leaned forward and twisted one of his forelegs in a way that would break a horse's bones. He showed her the underside of his hoof and said, "See here, the fourchette? The, uh, soft triangular part inside the hoof?"

Laura nodded, "The frog. Yes?"

"Frog? Okay, sure, the 'frog'. Now wrap your hooves around your mug like you've seen me do and close your eyes."

Laura sat on her haunches and did as he instructed, leaning awkwardly forward to press her hooves on either side of her mug and closing her eyes. She couldn't press the frog of her hooves against it as the thick nail of her hoof was too deep and there was no way she could pick it up with just the hoof itself. A large stain on the wood floor was a constant reminder of her failed attempt the first time she'd brewed up and tried using her hooves to pick up the mug like this.

His masculine voice spoke softly, "Now imagine your fingertips. Imagine pressing them against the mug and feeling the smooth surface. Feeling the warmth of the tea inside. Move your hooves back and forth a little and imagine your fingertips sliding over it."

Laura wasn't certain what, if anything, she was supposed to be feeling with. So far, she just felt the pressure on her hooves against the mug and a juddering as its bottom slid a little on the wood floor. This exercise reminded her a little of pottery classes; sitting with her eyes closed and just feeling the cold clay spinning against her hands. Feeling the shape as she made a pot rather than seeing it. Wait a moment! She could feel… something. Warmth. Just the cup radiating. Or was it? No. She could feel the smooth surface of the cup, like running her fingertip across it. Just like Chick had described it! She could feel that it was warm and smooth, except for a few little dimples in the steel mug's ceramic glaze.

"Ahhh…", Chick's warm baritone purred. "By that pretty smile on your face, I can tell that you are feeling it."

She opened her eyes, sat up and twisted her hooves around so she could look at the frogs. They hadn't changed at all, just the same triangular pads of lightly furry, rubber-like grey flesh she'd slowly grown used to seeing. There was no way they had actually touched the mug. Not unless they had swelled up like balloons or something.

She pressed her hooves against the mug, closed her eyes and imagined her fingertips again. After a few moments, she should 'feel' the mug. She slowly opened one of her eyes and leaned way down to peer at where her hooves pressed against it. She could feel it even though there were just the curving edges of her hard hoofs pressed against the mug.

Laura sat up and rubbed her hooves together and then looked at Chick. He smiled encouragingly and she asked, "Magic?"

He nodded. "Magic. It comes out of the frog in our hooves, kind of like a force field I guess. I'm no scientist so I don't really know how it works. But it does work! You can feel things and hold onto them with it." He demonstrated by picking up the dirty fork from the frying pan and waving it around a little.

"We earth ponies can also use hoof magic for farming. Feeling the soil, sensing if it's healthy, making plants grow fast and strong. You've probably felt this at least a little, right?"

She nodded and chewed on her lower lip. "Now that you mention it, walking on the road makes me feel a bit queer. Like… I don't know how to describe it…" More like she didn't want to describe it because it was daft.

"Like walking on garbage?"

"No. More like…" She blushed a little and admitted, "Like the road is yelling. Like it's angry, somehow."

Chick snorted and shook his head. "It just feels like garbage to me. Like dead, compressed pollution. Anyway, since you can feel the mug with your magic you should be able to pinch it between your hooves and pick it up. So why don't you finish your tea before it gets cold? Then we can clean up, get packed, and hit the road."

Trying out her new ability to grasp the mug, Laura was able to cautiously pick it up and finish her tea like a proper person, rather than an animal trying to lap up the dregs. It put a happy smile on her face to be one, tiny step closer to being her old self again. And MAGIC! She was doing magic! What the hell?

Chick borrowed her grass gathering basket to pile the dirty frying pan, tea-making pot, mugs and plates into. Between the two of them it didn't take long to wash up, sitting together on the porch and using the rain to wet the pots and plates. They used a dribble of soap from a squeeze tube that Chick had and a small scrubbing brush, which Laura tried holding with her hoof but she couldn't seem to get it to 'stick' the way Chick could. So she settled for drying with one of the musty towels.

There wasn't much for Laura to pack and most of it was already in her saddlebags. While Chick put away his food and pans she trotted into the kitchen and gathered up the bibs and bobs of the satellite phone, stuffing them into a plastic bag.

She walked into the living room, placed the bag on the floor and asked, "Should I bother bringing this?"

Chick finished closing a flap on his saddlebags, walked over and nosed the bag open. "Oh! A sat phone kit? Yes! Yes, you should definitely bring it. It's worth a lot and you can trade it if you don't want to keep it."

"It's broken though." Laura frowned and said, "When I popped the battery in and set it up to charge it gave off a burning smell. I think it must have gotten wet inside."

He flipped the phone around in his hooves, inspecting it closely and shrugged. "Somepony will trade you for it anyway. There's always a market for spare parts." He tossed it back into the bag showing no care whatsoever. Certainly, it was broken but there was no call to break it further. He didn't seem to notice her annoyance and asked, "So if you were charging it I guess you must have solar panels?"

Laura nodded and waved a hoof at the kitchen. "Thomas set up a plug and some electronics boxes in the kitchen. The panels are off in the woods a little ways." They'd taken hours and hours of painful labour to clean, awkwardly sweeping them with a — to her tiny pony body — gigantic mop.

She followed him as he trotted into the kitchen to investigate.

He grinned and said something that sounded appreciative in French. Turning to her he said, "This looks like an MPPT charge controller. You could get a good price for this but… mmm… lead-acid batteries. Non. They are too heavy and probably on their last legs anyway."

"What about the panels?"

He looked up at her, shrugged and said, "I doubt I can fit them onto my bike. How many are there? How big? I can report them to my manager and they may pick them up the next time a truck goes through here."

Laura held up her hooves to try and indicate their size and said, "There's three of them, about a meter wide and maybe a meter and a half tall."

"Cracked or anything?"

"No, just dirty." Very dirty.

Chick rubbed a hoof against his fuzzy pink chin while he thought for a moment and then said, "Yeah, I can't carry them but they sound worth salvaging. I'll report them."

Laura squinted and asked, "Wait… So you're paid to report them and someone else will pick them up? But they belong to me, don't they?"

Chick's eyebrows shot up and he looked surprised for a moment, then he smiled slowly and said, "Ah… I see where you are going with this. Ok, miss customer. What do you want for them?"

What did she want for them? Chick had mentioned yesterday that money was worthless now and everything ran on barter and something called a… What was it again?

"A chit!" That was it, wasn't it?

He yelped, "A chit?!" Chick waved his forelegs around dramatically. "Criss, should I cut off one of my legs and give you that as well? A chit?"

Laura was unimpressed by his theatrics and said, "Half a chit then."

Chick clicked his tongue. "Tch tch tch, sorry but you can't cut a chit in half. They are not like pieces-of-eight, you know."

"Well then… I…" She snorted in frustration and felt very irritated by his sly, mocking smile. It wasn't her fault she had no idea what to ask for now that money was apparently gone. Not that she would have known how much Canadian money to ask for a set of used solar panels anyway. She was even more annoyed when Chick burst out laughing at her.

After he'd calmed down he wiped one of his eyes and said, "Sorry. I, ah, how about I give you a pearl for them, hmm? I truly only have one chit and you can't cut them into pieces."

"A pearl?"

"Yes. If somepony doesn't trade goods-and-services for other goods-and-services they use gems, jewellery, silver or gold. As you said before it's pretty medieval now."

Laura hmmed and asked, "How much is a pearl worth? What could I buy with one?"

"Well, in Beantown you could buy a very nice dinner for two or a few nights in a good boarding room."

"Two pearls then?"

He chuckled and held out his right hoof. "Ok, two pearls." When Laura didn't respond he said, "Tap my hoof with your's to seal the deal."

Laura tapped his hoof and then followed as he trotted back into the living room. He dug around in his saddlebags and pulled out what looked like one of those blue velvet bags they sometimes sold with bottles of liquor. Chick sat and turned his back to her while rooting around inside it, then turned back and held out a pair of white pearls on the bottom of his hoof.

"There you are, miss customer."

She held out a hoof and he carefully tipped them into it. She rolled them around a little, feeling them bumping up against her frog and said, "Thank you."

"Ahh… And if you want to see what a chit looks like." He dug in the bag for a moment and held out his hoof again. It was a little rectangle of off-white plastic with a hole punched in one corner and it had a shiny foil hologram which showed a logo made of circles and the letters 'HPI'.

Laura looked at it for a few moments and felt that her pair of pretty pearls were far better deal than something that looked like mass-produced scrap. She looked up at Chick and asked, "And how many nice dinners could you buy with that?"

He smiled, tossed it a few inches into the air and caught it on his hoof. "I may spend it to have my bike serviced and garaged over winter. So, quite a few nice dinners." He tucked it back into the bag and said, "Though if I feel like working I might do that instead and save my chit for a rainy day. Have to see what jobs I can find in Beantown when we get there."

"Hmm… I can understand why people would use pearls as money but that little bit of plastic doesn't seem like it has much intrinsic value." She awkwardly hop-walked to her saddlebags, keeping an eye on her pearls so that she didn't drop them.

Laura tugged open the zipper on one of the outer pouches, where she kept a small collection of interesting stones and an eagle feather she'd found while foraging. She dropped in the pearls and zipped it closed while resolving to be careful with how she spent them. Laura had never been good with money, having always relied on her wealthy parents to support her. But she was on her own now and who knew how long it would take to find Thomas? At the very least she could spend them on a celebration dinner when they were together again.

Chick tucked the velvet bag back into his saddlebags and said, "Chits are rare and there's a little computer chip inside so they can't be faked. They're actually food coupons from a secret place where the last true humans live."

"True humans? I thought we were supposed to avoid them?"

Chick dug around in his other saddlebag and said, "No. That guide you read is out of date. I've never seen one of them but I've heard that ponies and humans have been working together for a few years now. Ah!" He pulled his head out of the bag with a pair of wire cutters in his mouth.

They were all set to go after Chick vandalised the wires to disconnect the power transformer thing. It was still raining though it had slowed to a cold drizzle, so Laura wore her pale-blue rain jacket over her cardigan while Chick struggled into his damp leather jacket and yellow poncho.

Laura stood a moment in the door looking back into the house that had been her home for several weeks. It had been terrible and she was glad to be leaving but it felt awkward and sad to just up and leave her shabby home. She sighed, shut the door and walked to the end of the porch where Chick was standing out in the rain. Going down the steps was awkward for Laura, even after doing it so many times while she lived here. Stepping down felt a bit like she would go tail-over-ears and she had trouble getting her rear hooves onto the steps. She'd once tumbled down a flight of stairs in the house and though she'd not been seriously hurt, she'd not gone up to the second floor ever again.

Chick almost looked like a camel with the transformer perched on his back and covered by his poncho. As they crossed the road he stopped and tapped a hoof against one of the roundish stones she had dragged up to make her arrow.

"We'll have to move these before we go."

That made sense, unfortunately. There was little point in directing anyone else to go look at the house after she'd gone but she wasn't looking forward to shoving the wet stones back into the grass. They were good stones though. They'd certainly played their part in saving her so it was really the least she could do to thank them.

She giggled at the childish thought as she followed Chick. The road felt uncomfortable beneath her hooves but it only took a few minutes walk to reach the gas station and the dirty concrete felt much nicer.

Chick's bizarre looking vehicle was unlike anything she'd seen before, except maybe in movies of WW2. It was a very old looking design of motorcycle mated to a similarly old looking sidecar and hitched to the back was a small two-wheeled trailer. It was covered in muck but beneath that was a military-style paint job of camo greens and beige blobs.

Chick trotted over to the cart, carefully sat on the damp ground and slid the transformer off of his back. He stood up and waved a hoof at the old-looking motorcycle. "What do you think? She may not look like much but under this mud is a trustworthy steed. Heh."

"It's… lovely." And in a way it truly was. Very purposeful and its old-style design was charming, at least she hoped it was styling and she wouldn't be riding around on an antique. She slowly walked around it and saw several long levers bolted to the motorcycle which also had metal saddlebags, a Jerry can, and even a small shovel strapped to it. The spare tire on the back of the sidecar had a luggage rack over it with several bags held on with elastic cords. Another pile of bags filled the front half of the sidecar but the seat was free and she assumed that was where she'd be riding. Though it was probably a bit tight for a human she would have plenty of room despite the baggage. Being a small pony had some advantages. She walked back to the cart and found that Chick had folded back a corner of the blue tarp that covered it and he was busy stuffing the transformer into a transparent plastic bag.

Though he probably didn't need assistance she helped him heave it into the cart, which was half filled with plastic tubs. Then they stowed their saddlebags in the sidecar, filling up the last space in the footwell.

Chick waved a hoof and said, "Hop in and see if you fit. You should be able to sit with your fore hooves up on the bags."

Laura awkwardly scrambled up onto the footstep and into the seat. Her hooves were muddy but the black faux-leather seat was already rather dirty so she tried not to be bothered by it as she sat down. There was actually plenty of room. In a pinch, she could probably curl up and have a nap.

Chick nodded and walked around to the other side of the bike while she messed about in the sidecar, shifting bags around to make her nest more comfortable and stuffing her sleeping bag up into the footwell so it would hopefully stay dry. He clambered up onto the bike, opened one of its metal saddlebags and rooted around inside. He retrieved two strips of grey plastic about three centimetres by ten, with long black wires going to an adaptor plug. He leaned way down between the bike and the sidecar while resting his belly on the sheepskin covered seat. With deft moves of his hooves, he wrapped one of the strips around a pipe that went to what Laura thought must one of the engine's pistons.

"I need to preheat the fuel injectors", he grunted, though she hadn't asked. "She drinks alcohol and won't start if I don't warm her up first."

Laura smirked and wondered if he had named 'her'. What would you call a big, ugly motorcycle like this? Bertha? Gertie? Zaza? Wait, wasn't Zaza a drag queen? Well, with Chick draped over the bike it was almost like 'she' was wearing a pink feathered boa.

She giggled as he struggled back upright, gave her an unsure smile and disappeared behind the motorcycle to apply a heating pad on the other side. When he was finished he plugged them into a socket on the bike and trotted back around to the sidecar.

"Ok, let's take care of those rocks while she warms up."

Laura stood up and stepped a fore hoof out onto the step outside the sidecar. She struggled to get her other hoof up and over the side of the car and had to squeeze her forelegs tightly together to fit both hooves onto the step. The ground was so far away! That last step down to the concrete was a doozy and she felt like she would end up doing a headstand and flipping over to land on her back.

Seeing her distress Chick suggested, "Umm… maybe it would be easier to jump out?"

"Jump?" Laura wobbled for a moment, then stepped back up and sat inside the car. "I don't see how that would be any easier."

"Well, it would be fewer steps to take and over in one go, like taking off a band-aid. It's easy really, just jump and let your body do what it needs to. Horses were born to jump!"

It made sense, sort of. Her heart beat quickly and somehow this seemed more intimidating than scaling a cliff face with her bare hands, back when she had hands. Laura swallowed, tried to remember how she'd seen horses jump in the past, tensed her hind legs and leapt over the side. She stretched out her forelegs towards the ground but her hind legs whacked into the lip of the sidecar, she was jerked back and flopped down to smack into the side of the motorcycle.

Or she would have if Chick hadn't jumped forward and wrapped his forelegs around her chest.

"Oof!", he murmured something in French into one of her blushing ears, making it twitch. She only understood the words 'that' and 'worse' — 'That could have been worse?' She wasn't sure how! He stepped back a little on his hind legs and instructed, "Ok, lift one of your legs out and reach down for the ground."

She gasped a couple of times with her head resting against the crinkly yellow plastic on his shoulder. Grabbing a hold of him with her 'arms', she strained to lift a hoof out of the sidecar. Twisting her hips and stretching to the limit she finally got a hoof-tip on the ground. The awkward angle actually helped with sliding the other leg free and with a grunt and a hop she had her rear legs out of the sidecar. Chick's strong arms… legs… held her close to his warm chest.

She wiggled her forelegs and panted, "Y-you can put me down now."

"Yes. Yes, alright." He set her down on her hooves and stepped back, dropping to all fours himself. "Ehm, maybe next time you should jump a little higher?"

"Right." Laura wasn't looking forward to 'next time' but unless she wanted to try riding the motorcycle itself she'd have to figure something out. Maybe backwards?

Chick's ears popped up as he nodded and then trotted off towards the road. The rain pattered against the waterproof hood of Laura's jacket as they reached the stone arrow, where she selected a stone, braced her fore hooves against it and started slowly shoving it towards the side of the road. It was annoying to have to undo all the hard labour that it had taken to build it!

She heard Chick grunt, followed by a loud crack and a stone sailed past and smashed into the brush beside the road.

Laura turned to look at him. He stood with his rump towards one of the stones, looking over his shoulder and lining up with it. Then he bucked like a horse and his hooves sent the stone sailing in a low arc and off of the road.

He noticed her watching, grinned and said, "It's a bit faster this way, eh? But it takes a different kind of hoof magic from what I showed you this morning. I can show you how, but not now. We're already late and have a long way to go."

Ooo, more magical stuff she could learn! After a taste of it over breakfast she was looking forward to finding out more of what this silly body could do. For now, Laura went back to slowly pushing her stone off of the road while Chick kicked away a half-dozen in the same time. She still hadn't asked him about galloping but she imagined that it would take a couple of days to get to Beantown, so there was plenty of time for that. Or she could ask Thomas to teach her when she saw him again. Laura started shoving another stone off of the road and tried to imagine a lovely scene with them galloping, side-by-side along grassy hills with a brilliant sun shining down on their joyful reunion. But she had a difficult time imagining Thomas as a white unicorn and the image of him as a man, running barefoot next to a little grey mare was a bit too perverse.

By the time she'd finished the second stone, Chick had kicked the rest of them away. He trotted back to the motorcycle but Laura lingered for a moment, she pushed strands of wet hair away from her eyes and looking around at the little town that she'd called 'home'. The drumming of rain on her hood drowned out most sounds but she could hear a few brave birds chirping in the trees. She gave the peeling white-painted house a last, grateful look and trotted after Chick.

Getting the motorcycle kick-started was quite a process. Laura sat on her haunches and watched as Chick crawled all over the front of the machine; inserting the key, flicking switches and banging his hooves against various levers. Once he was satisfied with his preparations he stepped to the side of the bike and used a fore hoof to kick down on a lever just in front of the rear wheel. It took four tries — with pauses to clamber back up and fiddle with controls on the handlebars — before the engine finally coughed and clattered into life.

"Ok, hop in!" Chick busied himself with getting the heater pads off of the engine tubes while Laura trotted around behind the trailer and clambered into the vibrating sidecar.

Chick scrambled up onto the motorcycle's seat, revved the engine a few times and then picked up the white helmet that was sitting on the fuel tank. He slid it onto his head and tugged the chin strap tight then flicked something on the side and a somewhat mucky visor dropped down in front of his eyes. Leaning over to the sidecar he shouted over the engine noise, "I'm sorry that I don't have a helmet or goggles for you, Laura. You'd better stay low to try and keep out of the rain."

She nodded and he reached down to press a lever between the bike and sidecar, then stamped on some levers on the left side, before carefully pressed a hoof against a lever attached to the throttle.

With a chugging roar, the motorcycle jerked and rolled forward, out from under the gas station's canopy and into the lightly falling rain. He pulled a tight U-turn to get onto the road heading north and slowly eased the throttle up. Finally, they were off, riding over where Laura's arrow had been and going in the wrong direction! Laura would have said something but immediately her face was buffeted with wind and splattered by rain. She'd be shouting at Chick's rump from where she was sitting anyway. Laura snorted and hunched down, pressing her forelegs and chin onto the bags in the sidecar to try and get out of the wind. Chick probably knew where he was going but she'd give him a piece of her mind if it turned out he didn't.

After a few minutes ride, they made two left turns and rode up a ramp and onto the dual carriageway that ran past Welsford. Heading south, thank God. Chick increased their speed once they were on the relatively broad and clean road, which also increased the wind and turned what had been a fairly light rain into a drenching spray. There was absolutely no chance of conversation so Laura held her jacket hood in place with a hoof, closed her eyes, hunkered down and clutched onto one of the bags as they rattled and roared down the highway.

For half an hour they rode south with Laura occasionally opening her eyes to peer through the rain at the passing landscape. Mile after mile of pine forest, rocky hills and the occasional road sign. The low grey clouds felt like a ceiling overhead and Laura hoped they would have at least a few sunny days on the trip to Beantown. She wasn't sure she'd survive if they didn't!

She was feeling properly miserable — wet, cold and a bit numb in the face — by the time Chick guided the bike off of the highway and down an exit ramp. A sign announced the town of Westfield and Laura hoped that they would be stopping for a while so she could stretch her legs and have a pee.

Chick leaned down and yelled over the engine and wind, "We'll stop here for a few minutes!"

Thank goodness!

"Then it's another hour or so to the farm but we'll be going much slower so it won't be as bad."

Laura nodded and turned her head to snort water out of her damn horse nose. Her nostrils were like rain scoops! She wished the sidecar had a windscreen like the motorcycle did, it would have made the trip much more bearable. Or better yet, she wished for a car! A nice, warm, dry, quiet car!

It was a bit of a ride to town from the carriageway, past dirty blue signs with symbols for camping grounds and swimming areas. Chick kept the bike in the centre of the road except to weave around fallen branches and large patches of sodden leaves that encroached on the crumbling tarmac. Some mounds of leaves or puddles of water couldn't be avoided and the motorcycle felt loose and unstable under her as they drove over them. They came around a long, sweeping bend and for a few moments, Laura saw a large body of water ahead before the trees concealed it again.

Minutes later Chick brought the motorcycle to a halt at an intersection in front of hanging traffic lights that had long since gone dark. He reached down to yank up a lever and said, "We'll rest here for a few minutes. I need to, ah, visit the bushes but I'll be back." He climbed down off of the bike, leaving it idling and steaming as he trotted off to the side of the road.

Laura didn't see any sign of a town, just one sagging house, half-hidden in the encroaching forest. She stood up in the sidecar and stretched her numb legs as best she could in the small space, then she looked down at the ground. Did she dare try to jump out again? Not a chance. Since she didn't have an audience she opted for the indignity of going bum first, which worked well enough until one of her hooves slipped on the metal step and she tumbled back onto her rump.

With an angry snort which turned into a whiny, she got back up and wiped ineffectively at the muddy hem of her rain jacket. She angrily lashed her tail and trotted off to do her business in a grassy ditch at the side of the road. A flush loo would have been nice but she would probably just fall in! Pony bodies were at least conveniently shaped for outdoors toileting. By the time she walked back to the bike, Chick had also returned and was drinking out of a steel bottle.

He held it out and said, "Don't swallow the diamond."

She nodded and out of habit she ran one of her wet and muddy fetlocks over the bottle's mouth before drinking a swallow of the cold water. It tasted slightly of dirt and probably would have been cleaner if she hadn't bothered to try and clean it. The diamond rattled as she handed it back.

Chick screwed the cap on, pouted and looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "I should tell you a little about where we're going."

"The farm?"

"Well, actually it's two farms. Eighteen ponies live there in more-or-less four families and they call it the 'Oak Point Farming Collective'. They have a few houses, barns, some mobile homes and such." He smiled and got a distant look in his pretty ruby eyes, "I made a delivery there in the spring and it's a beautiful place but-", his expression became concerned, "-too close to the water."

Laura raised an eyebrow and asked, "More-or-less four families?" Fancifully horrid images of inbred hicks and axe murderers quickly played through her mind… at least she hoped they were fanciful.

He nodded and coughed. "Yes, that's one of the things I need to tell you about. They have, uh, group marriages that are called 'herds'. It is a common practice now so you will see it a lot in the towns as well. You see there are a lot more mares than stallions so sometimes they, ah, arrange to share." Chick's ears were lightly folded back and she could see a blush turning his pink coat a slightly darker colour.

"You mean polygamy?" He nodded and with furrowed brows she asked, "Why on earth are there more mares?"

"I don't know." He unscrewed the water bottle again and had another drink. "But I have heard ponies say that it must be how things are in Equestria. So because of them and their spell that caused the Event, more mares Return and more foals are born female."

He shrugged and offered her the bottle again but she shook her head.

Laura wasn't exactly shocked by what he'd told her, though it was a little unsettling. One of her friends had been dating two guys when they were in sixth form, with both guys knowing about it. So it wasn't exactly a new idea and even if it wasn't what she wanted she could understand why someone would like to have an 'open' relationship.

"They will probably ask you to join them as well. Just so you know."

Laura snorted in surprise. "W-what? Someone's going to propose to me just like that? But I'm already-"

He interrupted by waving a hoof and said, "No, no, no. Though, yes… sort of. They just invite ponies to live there not to marry. But if somepony did join one of the families or bring along a partner and start a new family, they'd be even happier." He chuckled as he screwed the lid back onto the bottle. "Whenever I visit they're always very nice and entice me to stay, but I'm not a farmer. They may not even ask you since you are a mare and what they really want is more stallions. But I thought you should know in case it comes up."

Laura squinted and shook her head. "Well, if anyone asks me they will be disappointed. I already have my Thomas."

"Of course, of course. It may not even happen since we'll just make a quick stop to trade and be on our way again."

He stuffed the bottle in amongst the bags in the sidecar. "We should go. The road's narrow and messy from here, so the bike will slide around a bit now and then. Don't worry, I've been down this road many times. Just don't make any sudden moves in the sidecar, okay?"

Laura nodded absentmindedly as she stepped up and into the sidecar. She hoped that no one at this farm would try to chat her up. She'd dealt with creeps in bars a few times but being hit on by a colourful little pony would be a whole new kind of surreal.

Chick did his complicated dance with the motorcycle's various levers and with a clattering roar they were off.

Author's Note

Okay, as usual please PM me if you see any typos. :twilightsmile:

Next chapter: The Lewd Farm, where everypony has tramp stamps instead of cutie marks! (Not really.)

Now with edits courtesy of Conflicting views & Dances With Unicorns. :twilightsmile:

4 - Oak Point Farms

They rode past a few slumping houses and over a long bridge across a what Laura took to be a lake. But Chick leaned over and yelled, "That's the Saint John River. We'll be riding next to it all the way to the farm."

Though they were going slower, the wind and engine noise were still quite loud and Laura didn't want to shout herself hoarse just to have a conversation. The road was only two-lanes wide and Chick rode down the middle where there was the least rubbish. They rode past once-beautiful cottages that were fallen into decay. Many with shingles missing, some with roofs caved in, and one or two were just blackened skeletons. Most had filthy cars or pickup trucks rusting in the driveway but she didn't see any people anywhere. Not a single human or pony.

It would have been a depressing trip if not for brief moments of excitement whenever the bike slithered around.

True to his word, Chick kept the bike on the road and rolling steadily forward, though at one point he squashed her as he leaned far off of the motorcycle to get the sidecar's wheel back onto the muddy road. He yelled an apology but Laura couldn't really complain; better to be mildly squished than crashed in a ditch. Even at these low speeds that could be painful or fatal. Riding down the many hills was the worst, as the bike felt like it was going far too quickly and with little control.

That she'd dreamed about falling down a mountain this morning probably didn't help.

Laura was thinking about hollering that she needed another pit stop when…

"We're here!" Chick shouted and pointed to a sign that was a few metres ahead on the left side of the road, it was half overgrown by roadside bushes and grass.

Once they were a little closer, Laura saw that it was a large and very dirty tourism billboard with a photo of the river shore, a cloudy blue sky, blue water, and a white lighthouse. "Oak Point" was written in white brush script with "KIWANIS PARK" below it in a dark-blue block font.

Chick slowed the bike to trotting speed and turned right onto a one-lane dirt track. The trees gave way to cleared fields and they passed by a white house and garage. The curving road continued and through the rain Laura made out a couple of other barns and houses up ahead. Chick turned down the gravel drive which led to the first house and they rode past an abandoned SUV that was missing its windows, had dented panels and was covered in layers of childish graffiti; hearts, words, stick-figure ponies, and flowers. He rode up to the closed garage door, stopped and pulled on the bike's parking brake.

Laura stood up, stretched and yawned while Chick flicked a switch on the handlebar and shut off the motor. The silence was deafening.

He climbed down from the motorcycle while Laura squared off against the bane of her existence — a short hop down to the ground. This time she was resolved to try jumping again, since going ass-backwards had been such an embarrassing failure. As Chick walked stiffly towards the house she psyched herself up, 'Jump higher this time and let my body do what it needs to do. Easy. Right then! Jump!' She bunched her hindquarters, lifted her forelegs and leapt over the sidecar's rail!

With a loud crunching of gravel, she hit the ground, stumbled and recovered.

She'd done it!

Laura cheered, "Bloody brilliant!" She looked up hoping for a little praise from Chick, but he wasn't even looking as he walked up onto the house's porch. She sighed and muttered, "Well, poo. Good job, Laura. I knew you could do it, Laura."

Chick stood up on his hind legs to open the screen door and rapped a hoof on the wooden one behind it. As she walked over to the house, Laura saw that it was in much better nick than any of the houses they'd passed on the way here. It was clean, its roof was intact and the porch looked like it had been painted recently.

She arrived at Chick's side as the door was opened by a very large reddish-brown mare wearing a long, slightly-stained white apron with a frilly blue trim. She grinned and exclaimed, "Chicky! Oh my Lord, you look like something the cat threw up."

The large mare grabbed Chick, wrapping a foreleg over his back. She rubbed a cheek along his as she hugged him, ending up with her head wrapped around over his withers. There was no way Chick could return the hug since he was much smaller, so he reached up to pat a hoof against the mare's shoulder.

"Hello, Mama Bun. May we come in?"

"We?" The big mare — maybe half-again Chick's size — opened her eyes and spotted Laura. "Oh my, yes. Hello, miss!"

Laura had her nose in the air, nostrils flared as she savoured the rich smell of bread baking that poured out of the door in a wave of warm, yeasty air. Blushing she lowered her head, smiled shyly and said, "H-hello, pleased to meet you."

"This is Laura. Laura, this is Cinnamon Bun, the best baker in the world!" Chick grinned as Mrs. Bun stepped back and snorted her amusement while waving for them to come inside.

"Well, welcome back Laura, and come on in. Call me 'Mama Bun', everypony does."

Mama Bun backed into the house to give them room to step inside. There was a roughly woven 'Welcome' mat in the entrance that Chick carefully wiped his dirty hooves on.

"Umm… Welcome back?" Laura asked as she started wiping her hooves.

Mama Bun sat down on her ample haunches in the hall and reached a hoof up to adjust the cream coloured bun her mane was done up in. She smiled and said, "Why yes, you just Returned didn't you?"

"Oh! Yes. Yes, a few weeks ago."

The big mare smiled warmly and said, "Wonderful! I'm going to bake you a welcoming cake then. I can't imagine you've had one yet if you're travelling with this mustang."

Chick snorted as he struggled out of his poncho. "Nopony should have to choke down something baked by me, Mama." He moved to hang the poncho from the same hook on the wall that his helmet dangled from, "But there's no time for cake today. We're just here to trade and get back on the road so we can make Saint John before sunset."

"Oh, that's a shame. Maybe next time."

Laura shrugged out of her rain jacket and had to agree with Mama Bun about it being a shame. She would have loved a slice of chocolate cake! Or vanilla cake. Heck, even carrot cake would be amazing. Hopefully, they could at least trade for a loaf or two to take along since the bread smelled heavenly. It was a good thing her jacket was waterproof because she was drooling a little as she hung it up.

"Come on in then." Mama Bun led them down a short hallway and into a living room where she called, "Kids? It's all right, you can come out now."

Kids?

Laura saw a little, pale-blue pony face peep out from behind a fuzzy, brown couch. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the little one's incredibly cute face, which put Chick's 'plush toy' cuteness to shame. The little foal gasped and squeaked, "Pinkie Pie!" Before bolting out from behind the couch with a scrabbling of hooves on the carpeted floor.

All around the room high-pitched voices called out, "Pinkie Pie?" "Pinkie Pie!" "Pinkie Pie!"

There were suddenly a half dozen little ponies of all colours bounding out from hiding places and congregating around Chick, who laughed and jumped around almost as much as the foals did. He caught a very small, light green filly, sat down and hugged her as an older colt who was red with white patches all over him jumped against Chick's side in a tackle-hug. It was one of the cutest spectacles that Laura had ever seen. One of the littlest foals, who was a paler grey than Laura, excitedly flapped a pair of little wings on his shoulders as he galloped around Chick squeaking, "Pinkie Pie! Pinkie Pie!"

She glanced up at Mama Bun who had sat down on the floor next to her and asked, "What's 'pinkie pie'?"

"Pinkie Pie is a character", Mama Bun said, smiling down at Laura. She was easily two feet taller and seemed massive in comparison to the excited pile of foals that had gathered around Chick. "She's from storybooks that came over from Equestria. A pink mare who loves to throw parties for good little foals and give them balloons, cake and-"

"Candy!" As if on cue, Chick had pulled a plastic bag out from inside of his jacket and held it up high like he was presenting manna from the gods.

This caused the foals to cheer and a laughing Mama Bun called, "Okay, okay! But only one piece each. You'll be having lunch soon."

This rule didn't seem to upset the foals at all as Chick carefully hoofed out one of the little rectangles wrapped in shiny white plastic to each of them. The foals were so incredibly precious that Laura's jangled nerves from the long ride melted away as she watched them unwrap and gobble down the light brown treats. It didn't matter that they were all completely naked since they were just little kids, though Laura couldn't help wondering if very young ponies had to wear diapers.

Mama Bun quietly told her, "The red and white colt is Tiddlywinks, the pegasus is Zonda and the light green filly is Tiddle's little sister, Apple Fritter. The twins are my daughters, Carnation and Trillium." They were pale blue with blond manes, one sporting a red bow and the other a white one. Laura guessed they must be somewhere around six years old, but that was a very wild guess. "And that sweet, little yellow bug, who's drooling all over the carpet I just cleaned yesterday, is my Daisy." She sighed happily, then stood up and walked over to one side of the living room where a large iPad was propped up in front of an unlit fireplace.

The room was furnished like a cosy cottage with a couch, easy chair, low side-tables and plenty of frilly, floral pattern pillows. A large window with its floral curtains thrown wide let in dim, grey light that was supplemented by a half dozen LED 'candles' sitting on the tables.

Mama Bun rapped a hoof tip against the red bricks of the hearth to get everyone's attention and said, "Okay my little colts and fillies, time to get back to your math lesson." There was a chorus of groans, though the little pegasus colt eagerly trotted over and sat down in front of the iPad. As the remaining youngsters reluctantly disengaged from Chick he suddenly lobbed something small at Laura.

Startled, she jerked up a hoof but it bounced off and landed on the carpet. It was one of the wrapped candies that he'd handed… hooved… out. Laura looked up and he winked at her and smiled. She returned the smile and carefully scooped the candy up of off the floor, practising her newfound 'grippy hoof' magic.

Mama Bun got her little students to settle down telling them that, "After lunch, we can watch cartoons and then go help out in the garden."

"SpongeBob!" one of the colts yelled shrilly!

"Ewww, no!" one of the twin fillies moaned and her sister chimed in, "We wanna watch PAW Patrol!"

Laura chuckled as she struggled to get the wrapper off of her candy. They were just like her nephews and their constant squabbles over the telly. The sweet, maple-flavour treat helped a little as her mood sank with the thought that she'd probably never see them again. Not unless Thomas had a way for them to get back to England, and also if they'd Returned already. It struck her that they might already be adults if they'd Returned before her, or that she might be an old nag by the time they came back.

Mama Bun solved the foalish argument. "Ok, ok. We'll watch an episode of SpongeBob and then one of PAW Patrol. But only if you're good and pay attention to your lessons, alright?"

"Yes, Mama", most of the foals said in practised chorus.

"Good!"

With her mouth, she picked up a stylus that was lying next to the iPad and with a few taps it started playing an educational video. Laura saw images of numbers and animated fruit as a woman's voice lectured about basic math concepts. She imagined it was a bit too simple for the older foals and too advanced for the youngest ones but all of them seemed happy enough to watch it.

Mama Bun clomped heavily towards the hall and said, "I'm going to check on lunch. Come with me and I'll call Mistral so you can get the trading done and be on your way."

Chick nodded and hooved over the half-empty bag of candy to her. "Here, for later."

She smiled and tucked it into an apron pocket before leading them deeper into the house to a large kitchen. There was a crudely built wood walkway against the 'L' shaped counter so that a pony could step up and be high enough to use them. There was also a wood crate in front of the oven which Mama Bun stepped up onto, wielding a large spoon in her hoof to stir a huge pot of what smelled like vegetable stew.

There were LED strip lights all along the bottom of the very-overhead cabinets and Laura imagined that they must have a good supply of electricity if they could run an electric oven. She was a bit envious after having spent weeks eating raw greens and having only a wood stove to sometimes enjoy a cup of tea.

"Alright, then. Let me give Mistral a buzz."

From the counter, Mama Bun retrieved a bright yellow, phone-like device with an aerial and for a moment Laura hoped it might be a satellite phone. It was a little difficult to see it from where she was sitting on the floor, looking up at the big mare who awkwardly held it between her forehooves. She pressed a button on the side, producing a crackle of static.

"Hello, Mistral? Are you there?"

Another crackle and a few moments of quiet hissing.

"Mistral?"

There was a long burst of static and then a tinny woman's voice replied, "Hello, Mama station. This is Mistral. Over."

Laura realised it was just an FRS radio and her hopes of making a long distance call to Thomas were dashed again.

"Mistral, I've got Chick here. He wants to get the trading taken care of ay-sap and then hit the road."

"Ok. Yeah, we heard him arrive. I'll grab Buttercup and we'll be there in a few. Over."

Mama Bun pressed the button again and urgently said, "No, no, no! Don't bring Buttercup. There's a-", she glanced at Laura, "-complication. You got that?"

Laura turned to Chick with her brows furrowed and mouthed, 'Complication?' But he just frowned and looked away.

"Shit. … Ok, I'll be there in a minute. Over and out."

Mama Bun put the radio back into its charging cradle on the counter and sighed. Laura walked a couple of steps towards her and asked, "Is there a problem with me being here?"

The big mare shook her head, sighed again and said, "No, you're welcome in our home. It's just Chick was going to take Buttercup, my eldest, to Beantown with him."

"Oh?"

Chick coughed and with his ears back he said, "And there's only two seats on my bike."

"Oh… Bloody hell." This was a bit of a pickle but there was no way she would give up her seat to someone else! Though it sounded like they were assuming that she'd be going and Mama Bun's daughter would have some bad news.

"I can make it up to her, Mama Bun." Chick sat up straight and earnestly said, "Next spring I could leave early and make a straight run to Grand-Sault, then turn right around, come here and take her to Beantown. It'll be expensive but if I can scrounge up some spring trade I should break even. She can probably make the spring convoy to Alexandria or if we miss it she can stay in Beantown and go in the fall."

Mama Bun shook her head, "I don't like the idea of my daughter staying in Beantown. If she misses the spring run would you be able to bring her right back?"

"Look, I have some good friends in Beantown that she could stay with."

Mama Bun snorted and said, "Friends with fangs and antenna? No, you just bring my daughter back."

"Hey! Not all of my friends are changelings and those that are are nice people too."

"People? Ha!"

Following the increasingly heated conversation as it bounced back and forth was starting to make Laura feel dizzy and anxious. She had no idea what they meant by people with fangs and antenna or what 'changelings' were, but arguments always made her feel just awful and she really didn't want to be stuck in the kitchen while they were at it.

Plus she really needed to go.

"Excuse me." They both stopped and looked at her with slightly angry eyes that made her want to flee even more. "Umm… can I use your loo? I mean, your washroom?"

Mama Bun forced a smile onto her muzzle and nodded. "Of course you can. It's just down the hallway there, last door on the left. Have you used a composting toilet before?"

"No." At least she didn't think so.

"It's easy enough. When you lift the lid you'll see there's two holes; number one goes in the front and number two goes in the back. Alright?"

Laura nodded and trotted off down the hall while they went back to arguing. It was a relief when she finally shut the door and her ears came back up again. Ugh. The washroom was pretty standard for a North American house, aside from the flush toilet having been replaced with a plastic one that had a large base. Someone had built a horseshoe-shaped platform around it so that it was easy for a pony to use. A bit awkward but she didn't fear falling into it at least. There was a jug of water and bar of soap at the sink so she took the opportunity to wash her hooves in case they were able to stay for lunch.

Did the habit of washing hooves after using the loo make sense anymore? There was no toilet paper and no way she could use it even if there were. It was a little gross, but no worse than some of the Third World countries she'd visited. It was a shame they didn't have a bidet… though they'd need running water first. She dried her hooves but didn't expect them to stay clean for very long since she had to walk around on them. Was it worth using up the jug of water on a pointless human habit?

When she poked her head out the door it was quiet again. Laura trotted into the kitchen to find that Chick had left and Mama Bun was busy stirring her pot of delicious smelling stew.

"Oh, hello again, Laura." Mama Bun used her mouth to replace the pot's lid and then she stepped down off of the crate. "I'm sorry if my bickering with Chick upset you, we just have some things we disagree on."

Laura scuffed a hoof on the floor and said, "It's ok. I, uh, guess you're rather upset over your daughter not going to Beantown?"

"Yeah, but it can't be helped. She's been so excited all summer. Going on and on about what she's going to do in Alexandria when she gets away from this boring, little farm." Laura could hear a touch of bitterness in the big mare's voice. She snorted and said, "Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter but she has high expectations about going to a big town. I'm afraid she'll be disappointed or run with a bad herd and find out how dangerous life off the farm is."

Laura was very much reminded of how her own mother would worry needlessly whenever she went away on a trip. "Oh, Mongolia is a terrible place! Full of bandits and communists! What do you want to go to India for? You'll catch malaria and for God's sake don't drink the water!" It would almost be funny if she didn't miss Mum and Dad so much. Ugh. Think about something else.

"Umm… why does your daughter want to go to this Alexandria place?"

The wooden platform creaked a little under Mama Bun's hooves as she stepped up onto it and reached onto the counter for a stack of plastic bowls. "Oh, everypony wants to go to Alexandria. Even I'd love to visit if I weren't so busy with baking, preserving, cleaning, and raising our foals. Alexandria is the hub of civilisation now. But the reason we're sending Buttercup is so she can go to school."

"School?" Laura assumed that everyone here was home educated, given what she'd seen so far.

"They have a huge library of books that come from that Equestria place, so they know everything about how to live as a pony. We have a few books on our iPads." Mama Bun lined up some mismatched trays and began placing bowls onto them as she talked. "But there's a world of difference between reading something in a book and having an experienced teacher. Plus lots of young ponies and Returnees go there so it'd be a good chance for Buttercup to meet somepony special. We could always use more ponies here on the farm."

She turned her head and gave Laura a warm and inviting smile which Laura nervously returned, half expecting the big mare to invite her to stay at the farm. She imagined that if she did choose to stay, join their 'herd', and give up her spot to Buttercup, it would solve all of their problems. But Mama Bun just turned back to her kitchen-work and a pleasant quiet descended as she filled the bowls with soup and then started slicing bread. Laura's nostrils flared on their own and she swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"Maaamaaa! The mooovie ended!" the red and white patched foal poked his head into the hall to yell.

Mama Bun called back, "Thank you, Tiddlywinks! I'll bring you all your lunch in a moment." She turned to Laura and asked, "Could you lend me a hoof and carry a tray?"

"Oh! I… I can't really carry things", Laura waved her forelegs and said, "I'm not very good with these yet."

Mama Bun chuckled and said, "Oh no, you just stand still for a moment and I'll put a tray on your back. Then just walk it into the living room. Don't worry, we earth ponies are built to carry things on our backs."

It was surprising how easily she balanced the tray of bowls, though she did need to walk slowly and carefully, and she was quite nervous since she couldn't see what she was balancing. The foals seemed to know what they were doing and picked up the bowls and slices of bread as she stood still in the middle of the living room. The bigger foals politely helped the smaller ones and they were all remarkably well behaved as they tucked in.

A few minutes later Chick and a pale grey pegasus mare with a black and blue striped mane and tail came in. The mare walked carefully through the foals and nuzzled the pegasus colt, whose returning nuzzle smeared a streak of stew along her cheek.

"Mistral, this is Laura", said Mama Bun when the pegasus joined them, claiming the last bowl of soup.

She nodded and said, "Hey", before biting off a muzzleful of bread.

Laura swallowed a mouthful of soup — it was mostly kidney beans with carrots, celery, onions, tomato and seasonings — and replied, "Hello".

The bread was dark and very grainy, which old, human Laura would have hated, but now it tasted delicious and her strong pony teeth made short work of it.

No one bothered with spoons, so Laura didn't feel singled out as she dipped her muzzle into her bowl to slurp it up. When in Rome. The only problem was her blasted mane, which kept trying to sneak into the bowl. She was constantly having to brush it aside with a hoof to avoid chewing on it. Perhaps she should ask around and see if anyone had a hairpin or three she could use? Though she wasn't certain how she'd even get them into her mane. How did Mama Bun get hers wrapped up into, well, a bun? Surely, someone had to be helping her?

She was about to ask about it when Mama Bun turned to Mistral and asked, "Trading all squared away hon?"

Mistral nodded and in a slightly raspy voice said, "Uh huh. Chicky paid the usual."

"The usual?" Laura asked, forgetting about mane care tips.

Chick had his mouth full so it was Mistral who answered, "Yeah. We were gonna trade two cases of strawberry wine for him to give one of our fillies a ride, but…" She shrugged, frowned and went back to eating.

Chick swallowed and said, "She also talked me into staying for the night. I hope that's okay with you, Laura."

"We're staying?"

He nodded. "The storm is going to rain-out tonight and tomorrow will be sunny."

"I feel it in my wing bones", Mistral said around a mouth crammed almost full of bread as she showed off her gorgeous wings by flexing them partly open.

Laura had been intrigued by the little foal's wings and Mistral's were beautiful, though they looked far too small to get her off of the ground. Horses were not light or aerodynamic. Then again, Laura had never thought she'd be able to 'feel' with magic hooves before this morning so anything was possible. The guide that Thomas had left her had mentioned that pegasi could manipulate weather, with magic of course, so Mistral probably could accurately predict the weather, somehow. Even if it was still raining tomorrow, she could use the break from huddling down inside a cold and wet sidecar.

Mistral, Chick and Laura cleared away the dishes to the kitchen while Mama Bun cleaned off messy little pony faces with a damp cloth and then set an episode of SpongeBob playing on the iPad. They left her there, surrounded by foals who were either watching the iPad, playing with a huge collection of toys or napping against Mama's side where she lay on the carpet.

Laura winced and smiled when she saw that the twin fillies were playing with Barbie dolls. It must be strange for them, growing up in a world sans humans aside from these distorted representations of a woman. But perhaps they were better off without having to deal with that brand of distorted body-image or with memories of having two legs and hands — they probably had no trouble learning to gallop or use a cup.

She followed Chick and Mistral outside onto the porch. It was brighter and the clouds seemed less oppressive, which Laura took as a good sign that there would be no rain tomorrow.

Chick inhaled deeply, exhaled with a rumbling whinny and said, "Well, I'd better get to work loading the bike and since we're staying I'll give her a bit of TLC." He glanced at Mistral and asked, "Okay if I use your tools?"

The grey pegasus fluffed her wings and nodded. "Yeah, sure. You break it, you replace it." She peered up at the overcast and said, "I'd better get back."

"Hey, would you mind showing Laura the rest of the farm? She's never met a unicorn so maybe you could introduce her to Twinkle?"

Mistral nodded and said, "Sure thing. It's Laura, right?"

"Oh, yes. And I'd love to see more of your farm-", she lied, "-and meet this Twinkle." Which was not a lie. This would be her first chance to meet someone who had become a unicorn like her Thomas. "Just give me a moment to fetch my rain coat."

Laura popped back indoors and hesitated before putting on her jacket. The cardigan plus jacket would probably be too warm. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching and then struggled out of her dirty cardigan. Holding it in her hooves for a moment she sighed over how filthy it had gotten — it was now more brown than red. She stood on her hind legs to get her jacket down and hung the cardi in its place.

Chick had disappeared by the time she'd dressed and walked outside, as had the motorcycle and its cart.

Mistral gave her a lopsided smile and said, "Okay, let's get going. I guess we're hoofing it but it's a short walk."

Laura jumped down the porch steps to the gravel driveway, smiling at her small accomplishment as she glanced into the now open garage door. Chick and the bike were inside and he was shoving at wooden crate across the floor towards the cart. He stopped and waved so Laura waved back before trotting after Mistral.

The other mare didn't seem bothered by the rain which beaded and ran off of her hide, feathers, and mane. She seemed almost waterproof, which Laura realised would be very useful for someone who spent their time flying through clouds. They walked together along the drive and out onto the muddy dirt road, skirting around deep and wide puddles. So much for having clean hooves, but Laura didn't mind as the squishy mud felt nice against the frogs of her hooves. A nice change from the horrible feeling she got from walking on tarmac, anyway.

Mistral gestured with a wing at a barn and house off to the right and said, "That's my house and our chicken coop." She gestured with her left wing. "Down there is Plow, Briny and Rose's place. They have pigs and goats." She wrinkled her muzzle in disgust.

Past the houses, Laura saw a white, three-bladed windmill in the distance, which explained the bountiful supply of electricity she'd noticed in Mama Bun's lovely home. Mistral started trotting so Laura had to as well to keep up — she hoped that the pegasus wouldn't break into a gallop.

"Aaand here's the path to the Richard's Farm. Nopony actually lives there, but it's where we do most of the farming. Everypony's out there today, except for Bun and the foals. Oh-", she gestured again with one of her lovely wings and said, "There's some mobile homes down there near the river. That's where Twinkle and her foal live."

Laura nodded, gazing at Mistral's wing rather than where she was pointing. The mare's feathers were the same light grey as her coat but had a subtle pattern of near white and bluish-grey to them.

Mistral chuckled. "Never seen a pegapus before, huh?"

Laura felt her ears warming up with a blush and she nodded. "No, aside from the cute little colt at Mama Bun's home. I'm very sorry for staring."

Mistral fluffed her wings out and then tucked them up against her sides. "Hey, no problem. We are pretty awesome." She grinned and said, "That foal is my youngest. Zonda. Zzzondaaa! Heh… Come on, let's make tracks."

The path they walked along was quite wide, made of gravel laid down in an arrow straight line between the trees. Laura struggled to keep up with the fast-trotting pegasus.

"Umm… Did you name your son after the car?" she asked between breaths.

"Huh? Oh, sure it's the name of a mind-blowing car, ain't it? But it's actually a type of wind down in Argentina. I think it's Argentina, anyway. I named my kids after winds; Sirocco, Zonda, and I named myself Mistral. Obviously."

"You've been back for a while then?"

Mistral nodded, flicking water off of her long mane. "Yeah, something like seventeen years. You're a newbie, right?"

"Almost a month", Laura admitted.

"Jeez, you're barely a nublet." Mistral laughed as Laura stumbled. "And it hardly shows!"

Laura snorted.

"Heh. Sorry, I'm just pulling your leg." She suddenly halted. When Laura caught up and gave her a quizzical look she said, "No hard feelings, eh? Wanna see something that'll blow your nublet mind?"

Laura blinked a few times before answering, "Umm… yes?"

"Great!" Mistral crouched down, spreading her wings and then took off like a shot.

Literally took off and up into the air, flapping her wings ferociously as she blasted away from Laura, making her orange mane to blow back from her face. The pegasus flew along the path at about half of the height of the trees. Her figure dwindled until she reached the end of the forest a few dozen yards ahead, then she arced up into the air with her wings wide and feathers splayed out, silhouetted against the grey sky. She flipped and rolled in the air and shot back towards Laura with a big grin on her muzzle.

Laura flinched but before they collided, Mistral backwashed hard with her wings and came to a hovering stop in front of her. Laura's long mane was blown back again. She sat down on her haunches and could only gape at the pegasus. Mistral barely flapped her long, grey wings and just hung in the air with seemingly little effort.

"Pretty amazing, eh?"

Laura snapped her mouth shut, blinked and swallowed before nodding. She couldn't help enviously wishing that she'd Returned with a pair of wings! Hell, she could have flown to Beantown by now if she had.

Mistral dropped gracefully to the gravel and chuckled. "Man, I wish I had a camera. You should see your face." Laura blushed as the pegasus waved a wing in a come-hither manner and said, "Let's go. You're gonna have your mind blown again when you meet Twinkiebutt."

They walked out of the forest and over a wooden bridge which made their hoofsteps sound hollow. The narrow stream flowed out of a boggy marsh and joined the broad lake-like Saint John river on their left. Seeing the very stout construction of the bridge Laura realised that this path must have once been a rail route. It stretched on ahead, arrow straight, but Mistral led her away from it and down a short, mud path. It wound past a small shack that smelt absolutely vile! Laura couldn't help wrinkling her nose at the sour, stomach-turning reek that oozed from the building — fish, smoke, spices, cheese, pickles, bacon, yeast, and other less savoury smells blended into a nauseating potpourri.

Mistral noticed her disgust and chuckled. "Yeah, that's Briny Pickles' shack. She does all of our preserving and fermenting."

"Phew! It smells dreadful!"

"Yeah, that'd be the pickled fish. She'll pickle anything; fish, bugs, eggs. Briny makes our cheese, wine, and also smokes meat to make jerky. Anything we catch trying to eat our crops, the waste calves, and any of the barnyard critters that croak end up pickled or smoked." She shrugged her wings as they trotted away from the smelly place. "We gotta feed our dogs and it brings in some extra cash when we trade it. Hey, girls!" She waved a wing at a small herd of cows that were standing under an open shed's corrugated plastic roof, steam rising from their black and white backs.

Laura could swear she saw some of the huge beasts smile at Mistral and that she heard one low, "Helloooo." But that was madness, surely? The guide hadn't mentioned anything about people returning as cows!

They looked healthy enough to Laura's inexpert eyes, and none of them tried to protest that they were really humans trapped in a cow's body. After giving them a long and wary look, Laura followed Mistral past several sheds and a small house that all looked well maintained. Their goal was a large, aluminium sheathed Quonset hut. Several smaller sheds clustered around the large, shiny building and a red tractor was barely visible through the tall grass that was consuming it.

The hut's large double-doors were open. Mistral trotted inside and yelled, "Hey, Twinkiebutt! You in mmmf-?"

Mistral did not look half as surprised as Laura felt when she saw that the pegasus' muzzle was covered and apparently being held closed by a sparkling white force field. No, Mistral just looked vaguely annoyed as a white unicorn with a silvery mane of scruffy, random waves came tip-hooving out of the dim recesses of the hut. She wore an oil-stained, dark blue smock which must have been tailored because it fit her petite, four-legged form snugly.

"Hush, you feather-brained idiot. I just got Sunshine settled down for a nap", she whispered angrily.

"Srruh", Mistral mumbled through her sealed lips.

The glow around the unicorn's horn flickered out at the same time the force field around Mistral's muzzle vanished. Laura was gobsmacked! It was the most blatant, in-her-face display of magic she had ever seen and she was having a difficult time believing her eyes! She wanted Mistral to yell again, just to see her mouth clamped shut.

Mistral rubbed her muzzle with one of her hooves and muttered, "I hate it when you do that."

The unicorn chuckled quietly and said, "Stop being a loudmouth then, hon." She waved her horned head in Laura's direction and asked, "Who's the new filly?"

"Right, uh, this is Laura." She brushed a wing against Laura's chin to close her mouth and said, "Laura, this is Snow Twinkle. She's our mechanic, fabricator, mage-in-residence, etcetera."

Twinkle held out a hoof and said, "Pleased to meet you, Laura. You just Returned?"

"Umm…", she said intelligently before lifting a hoof to tap against Twinkle's. "Y-yes, about a month ago."

"Well, welcome back then." Twinkle smiled and true to her name, her pale blue eyes twinkled happily. Laura had the impression that the small unicorn was both very intelligent and very wise — perhaps it was the Einstein hair-do?

"Thank you."

"Chick's here. Laura rode in with him." Mistral made this odd chuffing sound at the back of her throat.

Twinkle's eyebrows rose in surprise and she said, "He is?" Her eyes flicked in Laura's direction and she frowned slightly. "Oh dear… Has anyone told Buttercup yet?"

Mistral snorted and shook her head. "Heck, no! I'll let Mama deal with that. Anyway, I'd better scat 'cause the others'll be wondering where I got to." She fluffed her wings and told Laura, "Feel free to wander 'round the farm if you want. There's no wolves or anything so long as you don't go off into the forest."

She turned, crouched down onto her haunches and spread her wings. Laura quickly stepped back as the pegasus mare launched herself into the sky again, then stood and watched for the few seconds it took the graceful pegasus to fly out of sight. If meeting Chick and then the little foals had been something out of a children's book, watching a pegasus fly against a backdrop of storm clouds was straight off of a fantasy novel's cover.

Twinkle coughed to get her attention and said, "Would you like to stay and watch while I work? Returnees always seem to enjoy a little magical razzle-dazzle."

"Oh, umm… If I wouldn't be imposing?"

"Wouldn't offer if it was a problem. Just be quiet, eh?"

Twinkle waved a beckoning hoof and led Laura into Quonset hut. The interior was dimly lit with a few smoky oil lamps which hung from hooks on the roof. The building contained several large pieces of farm machinery that all looked old but well maintained. Large, red-painted metal frames on tyres that supported rows of worn but shiny metal disks; long rows of curved metal hooks and stout chopping blades; a wide and narrow box on wheels with oddly articulated arms, frozen in a wave of motion. All seemed designed to violently work the earth and harvest its produce. Along the walls of the hut hung a row of leather and chain harnesses that would fit on a little pony, though Laura had a difficult time believing that ponies were capable of hauling these huge machines around.

A brown and white patched mutt waited near the back of the building, standing guard next to a baby bassinet with a pale blue blanket tucked into it. The dog's tail wagged happily as Twinkle quietly walked up and ran a forehoof over its head and scratched behind the fluffy ears.

"This is Laika, my faithful side-kick. Laika, this is Laura." The dog was almost as large as the petite unicorn.

Laura's family had always kept dogs, so she calmly stepped forward and held out one of her hooves for the dog to sniff. "Hello, Laika. Aren't you a beautiful girl?"

Laika seemed happy enough after a few sniffs and her tongue lolled out in a canine grin. Her warm doggy breath was foul and she reeked of wet, rarely-bathed canine.

Twinkle's horn glowed as she gently pushed at the blanket in the bassinet to expose a tiny, bright yellow face. Twinkle's quiet voice cooed, "And this is my little Sunshine."

Laura's interest in the magical glow melted into a warm, gooey feeling of love as she gazed at the sleeping infant. How could anything be so pretty and sweet? Sunshine's fuzzy coat looked so very soft, like velvet, and her long eyelashes fluttered a little as she slept. The curls of her mane were pastel orange, unlike Laura's blazingly bright, high-vis mane, and poking out of the curls was a very stubby unicorn horn.

Laura quietly breathed, "Ohhh… She's so beautiful. How old is she?"

"Almost two weeks now." Twinkle hummed quietly and the glow of her magic tucked the blanket back in around her daughter. "She's started walking already, though it tires her right out. Poor little thing." She stepped back and said, "Well, I'd better get some work done before she wakes up and wants feeding again. Come on."

Both Laura and Laika followed Twinkle as she quietly walked back towards the front of the building, eventually stopping next to a panel on the side of one of the farming machines. She levitated up a screwdriver, grinned and had it hover in a circle around Laura's head before using it on the machine. Two of the screws holding a flat panel were already removed and she made short work of the remaining dozen while Laura watched. It was utterly fascinating seeing the unicorn's glowing magic work the screwdriver and then split into two blobs to hold the screwdriver and levitate each dirty screw as it came out. Twinkle quietly set each one with its mates in a pan on the concrete floor. Laura gasped when the entire panel glowed and popped off with a hollow thunk.

Twinkle chuckled as she laid the panel off to one side. "This is pretty basic magic, Laura. Just a little telekinesis, but it's very useful since we ponies don't have any hands. It's one of the reasons I'm the farm's mechanic… that and I used to work in a hardware store so I know my way around a wrench."

She squinted and stuck the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her muzzle while a sparkling blob of magic reached into the exposed gearbox and probed around.

"What are you doing now?"

"Oh, just feeling around. Magic's great for not getting grease all over your hooves." She chuckled and then quietly cursed, "Shit. Laika?" The dog's ears perked up as Twinkle spoke to her, "Fetch me the fourteen-millimetre box wrench, please."

Laura would swear that the dog nodded before trotting off, her claws clicking quietly on the floor.

Twinkle whispered, "I could just magic it up but she likes being useful."

Laura nodded looked in the direction that Laika had disappeared. There were sounds of a latch being worked, a drawer opening and then metallic rummaging.

"So. Tell me about yourself. You sound British and you said you came back a month ago?"

For the next hour or so Laura told Twinkle the story of her Return, starting with the vacation to Canada. Thomas' proposal in romantic Montreal. His incredible effort to rescue her. Losing her ring. The weeks of solitude and survival in Welsford. And finishing with meeting Chick and the stormy ride to Oak Point Farms. Twinkle laboured on the farm equipment, somehow keeping the metallic noises from getting loud enough to disturb her child.

"Sounds like your fiance went to a lot of trouble to keep you safe. He must really love you."

"Yes, and I miss him terribly! I hope he's alright." And that he hasn't met someone else. She couldn't keep a note of worry out of her voice.

Twinkle hummed and said, "Listen, filly, it's a damn miracle you came back so soon after he did. You could've come back hundreds even thousands of years from now. So don't let anything put you off, 'cause you were plainly meant to be together." She levitated a few sheets of filthy cardboard underneath the machine to catch oil drips.

As Twinkle worked she told Laura her own somewhat sad life-story. Before the Event, she was called 'Abigail Ainsworth' and had lived in a city called Oshawa, near Toronto — which she pronounced "T'ronna." She'd married and had a son, raised him and watched him start his own family, only for them to be killed in a car accident.

"It was a massive pile-up caused by idiots not slowing down in a white-out." The little unicorn snorted quietly and said, "I'm glad there's no cars left running. Anyway, after that we couldn't stay in Oshawa anymore, too many sad memories, so we moved out here to retire." She waved a greasy wrench in the air and said, "My Gerry has… had relatives out this way. We bought a lovely cottage outside of Saint John and lived comfortably for a few years until we lost our investments in Oh-Eight. After that, we struggled to get by until the Event happened. I woke up like this about four years ago and the ponies here found me and took me in."

A rag drifted over, wrapped in her magic and she started to wipe the wrench clean. "I've lived here ever since and now-and-then one of us will drop by our cottage to see if my husband has come back. I'll wait here until he Returns… however long it takes. A love like that isn't something you walk away from, eh? So I'm sure your Thomas is waiting for you too." She smiled and gave the wrench to Laika, who trotted off with her head held high and tail wagging, no doubt getting slobber on it.

Laura glanced at the bassinet where little Sunshine was still sleeping and felt a bit guilty for doing so. It wasn't like she wanted to accuse this friendly lady of being unfaithful but…

"Hey, I said I was waiting not that I was dead." Twinkle chuckled and said, "I came back young and healthy again. I was a sick old woman with no grandkids, just waiting to die, and now I'm a young mare living in a hippie commune." She waved a hoof at the bassinet. "It's a miracle that I can bring life into the world again. I still love my Gerry and I'll be waiting to welcome him back… or my foals and grandfoals will be. Whatever happens at least a little piece of me will be waiting for him."

Laura forced a smile and said, "I… I understand." When the wise young-again unicorn put it like that her choice did sound rather more romantic and pragmatic than selfish.

A high-pitched cry came from the bassinet and the blankets flapped as little Sunshine struggled against them.

"Oop. Somepony's hungry again or needs her diaper changed." As she trotted off, Twinkle called over her shoulder, "Why don't you go for a walk around the farm? We can chat some more over dinner if you want."

"I'd like that, thank you."

Feeling unsettled, Laura paused at the wide doorway and flipped the hood of her jacket up. She really didn't feel up to exploring the farm or meeting any more ponies. No, what she needed was a little quiet time to think. She spied a dirt track that seemed to go towards the river and away from the fields and buildings. Unfortunately, it didn't go very far and she had to trot across a somewhat muddy field of stubble to reach the river edge. She pushed through a row of wild shrubs and trees and found a beach of round, pale stones which she crossed to reach the river's edge.

For a river, it was a very big one! It was so wide she could barely make out the flat grey outline of the shore on the other side, through the obscuring rain and mist. Laura stood for a while and listening to the small waves lapping at the stone beach, the rain pattering on her hood, and the chirps and caws of birds. She slowly walked along the beach for a while, heading back in the direction she'd come with Mistral. The wet stones shifted and crunched under her hooves. She found a half-buried log and sat down, even though it was wet — everything was wet, including her rump, so it didn't really matter.

She closed her eyes and listened for a while longer. Then focused on the smells. The damp air mostly smelt of green, growing things but also a little of fish, a slight tang of the ocean. Laura opened her eyes and gazed at the distant shore again, imagining that the Atlantic lay beyond it and beyond that, hundreds of miles away, was home.

Laura wondered what the ponies there were up to. Did they have a pony Parliament? Had the queen Returned and been chased around Buckingham Palace by feral corgis? She'd have become a young mare like Snow Twinkle, and Prince Charles would never, ever be crowned pony king. Poor sod. She avoided thinking about her family as she'd already spent far too many mopey hours worrying about them when she was stuck in Welsford.

They were far away and she was alone here, chasing after the dream of her Thomas. Well, not really alone anymore. Except for right now, but this was a solitude of her own doing.

lonely mare sitting

river flowing blind to care

grey stone under hoof

Pfft. Not one of her best efforts but then none of her poetry had ever been spectacular. She sat for a while, composing bad haiku and enjoying the peaceful shore.

The quiet moment was broken by the sound of a dog barking nearby. Laura looked up as Laika came barrelling out of the bushes and ran along the beach towards her. She stood up and said, "Hello, Laika. Did you come to fetch me?"

Laika barked once, spun around in a circle and started trotting back towards the bushes, looking over her shoulder to make sure that Laura was following. She led her across the field and back to the road in front of the Quonset hut where a group of ponies had gathered in front of its now closed doors.

She recognised Twinkle but the others were all new faces. There was a stallion with the group and he was gigantic! A big slab of brown fur who seemed very horse-like except for his bright green mane and tail and he wore a hat that dripped water from its wide brim. Other than the straw hat and a layer of dirt he was naked. There were two mares — one rose-red and one dark green, both with blond manes — who were wearing nothing more than hats as well. Nothing fancy, just simple work-hats designed to keep the rain off of their faces. The last mare was covered by a military-green poncho and she wore a beige baseball cap with a Canadian flag stitched to the front. Her fur was a vibrant purple and her blue and green striped mane was pulled back into a ponytail. She was smaller than the other mares but slightly taller than Twinkle.

They clustered together, chatting and bumping up against one another. Physical affection seemed to be the rule as pony nuzzled pony, heads were draped over shoulders in something like a hug, damp tails were flogged gently against other pony's sides. If it weren't for their laughter and conversation, Laura might have imagined they were simple horses gathered together in a cosy social group. Well, aside from their small size, big eyes, bright colours and clothing.

Ok, so, they were nothing like ordinary horses.

Twinkle had stripped out of her coveralls and held an umbrella over her head and Sunshine's bassinet. The unicorn's pretty, sparkling magic glowed around their handles and her horn.

"Laika! You found her, good girl!" she laughed as the dog bounded around her, tail wagging furiously. "Hi, Laura. We're all heading home for dinner and I didn't want you getting left behind."

"Thank you, and, um, hello everyone." Laura forced a smile and waved a hoof at this new herd of ponies she hadn't met before. She was still feeling a bit overwhelmed and already missed sitting quietly by the river but it was starting to get dark and if lunch was any indication, dinner here would be a delicious change from a diet of grass salad.

"Hello." "Welcome back." A few of them just nodded and smiled, so at least they were a friendly bunch if a bit muddy from a day of labouring in the rain-soaked fields.

Twinkle chuckled and said, "Let's get gone and we can do introductions over dinner, eh?"

Laura sighed quietly with relief as everyone nodded and turned to walk towards the trail back, which gave her an unfortunate view of their backsides. She looked away and nibbled on her lower lip but really it was just horse rumps, right? She'd helped groom horses from head to tail and this was nothing that she hadn't seen before.

She sighed and focused her eyes on the ground, trotting next to Twinkle who also trailed behind the herd. Twinkle nodded to her but otherwise seemed content to just walk along in silence while the others chatted.

One of the mares called out, "Hey, Butterball! Time to go!"

"Butterball?"

Twinkle laughed. "His name is actually Butter Bob. He takes care of the cows and dairy production."

A yellow stallion wearing a Stetson hat over his dark blue mane came trotting out of the open cowshed. The only other clothing he wore was a red and white patterned scrap of fabric tied around his neck.

"See y'all tomorrow, ladies an' gentlebull", he drawled while latching the corral's gate. He trotted over to join the herd of ponies while a large Alsatian slipped underneath the lowest rail of the wood fence. Laika trotted over and after a few moments of mutual tail wagging, she sprinted away with the Alsatian in hot pursuit.

"I'm sure you met his wife when you arrived; Mama Bun?" Twinkle smiled and said, "He's also Sunshine's father. Excuse me." Laura watched her canter off to meet him and despite her feelings about Twinkle's strangely selfless infidelity, she couldn't help smiling at how they both happily cooed over the floating bassinet.

A blue mare with a curly pink and white mane was waiting to join the group as they passed the pickling shed. Laura hung back further and further behind the happily chatting group as they walked along the crushed gravel path. Now and then one would glance behind to check on her and she would smile and nod.

While they were passing through the forest she felt a sudden gust of air and was startled when a pegasus landed on the path beside her. She was a pale yellow mare with a two-tone striped blue mane and just barely an adult judging by her slightly gangly figure.

She glared at Laura and in a high-pitched, melodious voice she asked, "Who are you?"

It took Laura a moment to recover from being startled. She tentatively said, "I… I'm Laura. Umm… and you are?"

"Wolf Kick", she squinted and asked, "You riding with Chick?"

From up ahead, Butter Bob called back, "Hey! Hey, you be nice now!"

"I am bein' nice!" the yellow pegasus yelled back and then turned her intense gaze back on Laura and asked, "So, are you?"

It might have been the way the young mare was half flaring her wings in a dramatic display or the half-mad look in her eyes, but Laura felt quite intimidated by the smaller pony. The whole situation reminded her of being bullied at school. She coughed and said, "I… um, yes, I-"

Wolf Kick snorted loudly and yelped, "I knew it!"

The group of ponies ahead of them had stopped and were all looking their way. Butter Bob walked towards them and in a warning tone he said, "Buttercuuup…"

"Fuck you!" she yelled in Laura's face and then shot up into the air with a powerful flap of her wings.

Laura held a hoof over her eyes as bits of wet gravel and mud spattered her.

The stallion yelled up at the pegasus as she flew away, "Get down here an' apologise!"

"Fuck you, Dad!"

He groaned, a deep rumbling sound in his chest and turned to Laura. "Ah'm very sorry, miss. Mah daughter is a real hoofful sometimes." The Stetson-wearing cowpony's southern drawl would have been faintly amusing if Laura weren't shell-shocked from being yelled at.

A concerned looking Snow Twinkle trotted over and little Sunshine gazed up at Laura with wide, confused eyes.

"I'm fine." She inhaled, exhaled, forced her ears to perk up a little and gave them a tight smile, "I'm fine, really. Please, let's just carry on."

As they began walking again the group of ponies up ahead gossipped in hushed whispers and Butter Bob grumbled, "Ah've half a mind to ground her for a week. Like, proper grounded! No flyin'."

"Oh, no. Please don't don't do that. She must be terribly upset that I've taken her place for the trip to… to Beantown. Being punished would only make things worse." And the last thing Laura needed was for an even more upset pegasus confronting her, besides she already felt quite guilty enough as it was.

Butter Bob snorted and said, "You ain't wrong. Don't seem to matter what ah do to try and rein Buttercup in. She's a pegasus all right… impulsive, wild and mouthy."

Twinkle laughed and said, "That's tribalist, Bob. She's just a teenager, all hormones and emotions with no experience to temper it."

"Well, ah'm gonna have words with her anyway. She's gotta apologise at the very least an' ah got no say in what mah wife's gonna do 'bout this."

Based on her impression of Mama Bun, Laura imagined that she would be caring and reasonable. She obviously loved all of the foals. How did an earth pony couple have a pegasus daughter anyway? Adoption? Infidelity? Magic? What kind of children would she and Thomas have, since he was apparently a unicorn now? She shook her head and snorted away the thought, which was very much putting the cart before the horse. She had to get to Thomas first.

Most of the herd went off up the lane towards Furrowed Plow's home while Laura and Butter Bob split off to go to his place. She wanted to check up on how Chick was getting on with the work on his motorcycle, and found him out in the muddy garden patch next to the house. He had a plastic shopping basket half-filled with carrots, potatoes and cabbage — all of the vegetables with impressively large and healthy looking.

"Hello, Laura. Did you enjoy your day on the farm?" He rubbed his hooves together to scrub mud off of them and Laura could tell he was upset about something from his limp ears and slouching posture.

"Yes, umm… mostly."

Both of their ears swivelled at the sound of shouts coming from Mama Bun's house. Butter Bob had gone inside and Laura guiltily imagined the family argument taking place.

Chick groaned and said, "Poor Buttercup… or Wolf Kick I think she's calling herself today. She gave me an earful just before you arrived."

"She yelled at me."

"Merde."

"You should have told me about her." Laura frowned and his ears twitched and he looked away from her.

"I, ah, was hoping we'd be out of here before it was a problem."

"Before she found out and blew up."

He kicked at a clod of dirt and sighed.

Laura's opinion of Chick sank a little. Initially, he seemed like a helpful, trustworthy sort and Laura was very grateful that he had rescued her. But trying to ditch that young pony while keeping her in the dark? That was childish, selfish, and plain rude.

He gave her a bashful look with those ruby gemstone eyes while he lightly kicked at the basket of vegetables and muttered, "I wonder if it's safe to take these in yet?"

Even if she was annoyed with him, she sympathised with his desire to avoid walking in on an argument. Especially one that they'd inadvertently caused. At least it was a brief argument as it sounded like things had quieted down inside. A moment later the door opened and Mama Bun came out with a certain yellow pegasus trailing at her heels as she walked out to the vegetable patch. Buttercup looked very subdued with her head and ears down and her very long tail dragging in the wet dirt and grass.

Mama Bun cleared her throat and announced, "My daughter has something she needs to stay to you."

The young pegasus glanced at them, huffed and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

She didn't sound very sincere but it was evidently good enough for Chick, who reached out a slightly dirty hoof to ruffle Buttercup's mane. "I know you didn't mean it, squirt."

Pricked by a British sense of fairness Laura stepped forward and said, "I'm sorry as well, for taking your seat on Chick's motorcycle. I understand and sympathise with your frustration." A bit formal but never mind.

"Uh… okay." Buttercup looked puzzled. Perhaps she wasn't used to people apologising for giving her reason to yell at them.

Mama Bun nodded and said, "Great! Now, let's head over to the Plow's for dinner."

Once the basket of veg was taken inside the entire Mama Bun clan trouped over to the Plow's home, some of them carrying covered platters of food on their backs. The house was a wide building with a few trees around the front and out back was a large field with pyramids of drying wheat scattered around. Near the house were several short stone walls and pens, and judging by the unmistakable odour, several pigs and goats lived there. Fortunately, the wind blew the smell away from the house.

Once inside Laura was given a whirlwind introduction to every pony that lived on the farm.

The homeowners were Furrowed Plow who was the big, brown stallion with dark green mane, and his wives Briny Pickles and Rose Blossom. Briny had blue fur and curly mane of pale pink with thin, white stripes running through it. Her mane was still damp from bathing but she still smelled faintly of rotten fish. Rose's red fur was likely the inspiration for her name and she had a lovely blond mane and tail hair, brushed until it glowed. She wore a pearl necklace and pearl earrings. Their eldest daughter was fully grown and almost as large as her father, larger than either of her mothers. She was dark green and had Rose's blond mane, but kept it cropped short. Laura had already met their other two children; Tiddlywinks and Apple Fritter.

She had also already met Butter Bob, Mama Bun and their three children; the still grumpy Buttercup slash Wolf Kick, the Carnation and Trillium twins, and little Daisy.

Mistral was there with her husband, Warm Front, who was also a pegasus. He had a tangerine coloured coat, short red hair and was very curt with his greeting. Sirocco was their eldest and was an adult mare with a blue coat and her father's red mane, she seemed to have inherited her father's brevity as well. Though with Sirocco it seemed to be more out of shyness than borderline rudeness. Zonda was a happy little colt, galloping and fluttering around and between everyone's legs. Including Laura who at one point felt feathers brushing against her chest and, looking down, she saw his curious eyes peering up at her from between her front legs.

Snow Twinkle used her magic touch to guide baby Sunshine as the tiny, yellow pony wobbled around aimlessly on her quivering legs. Carnation and Trillium were sort of helping, though Laura thought that they were mostly just adding themselves to a little herd that Twinkle had to keep a watchful eye on.

Finally, there was a recent Returnee named Tanisha, who had a deep purple coat and blue and green hair. She still wore her Canadian flag baseball cap along with a black and red striped flannel shirt that had had the sleeves cut short. Tanisha seemed eager to chat, so they briefly exchanging Return stories while the other ponies went about setting the table. Master Corporal Tanisha Snodgrass had been on training manoeuvres when it happened to her. She'd started walking south, as Laura had been tempted to do, effectively going AWOL from an army that no longer existed in any meaningful way. On a lonely gravel road she'd met a convoy of trucks, hitched a ride, and ended up at the farm.

After introductions, they moved into the dining room and everyone sat on cushions around a long dining table. It had obviously had its legs cut short to suit pony proportions.

Plow and his wives sat at the head of the table while Laura and Chick were seated at the 'place of honour' at the other end. It was quite a loud, boisterous meal that reminded Laura more of visiting a crowded restaurant than a cosy dinner at home. At least everyone — save Buttercup — was happy and having a good time. It was a very friendly and jovial atmosphere of family and friends coming together for a special feast.

Laura sat back and just absorbed the conversation rather than participating. Mostly they talked about how the harvest and planting were going. About the weather. Chick contributed news from Grand-Sault and various farms and towns around Nouvelle Acadie. He'd brought letters from ponies who had once lived on the farm but had moved away to other farms or to Grand-Sault. Laura gathered that the Oak Point Farms were not part of N.A., but a non-aligned farmstead. They didn't pay tithe to anypony, but as a result were responsible for their own security.

Warm Front made a point of telling her that they were armed and had 'dealt' with raiders a few times in the past. That put a damper on the table until Buttercup slash Wolf Kick told a story, which apparently everyone else was tired of hearing, about the time she had taken on and beaten up a wolf, earning her cutie mark. It was the first time Laura had seen the young pegasus happy and excited, which was a good change of mood so she just smiled and nodded her way through the too-graphic and violent story. That and she'd spent weeks being afraid of the hairy buggers so it was nice to hear about one being put in its place.

The food was delicious and varied as each family contributed to the potluck spread. Mushroom and chestnut quiche, onion soup, broccoli soup, fresh bread and butter, roast pumpkin, mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, and more. There was salad of course but made with actual lettuce, carrots and cucumber rather than just grass, though there was a 'hay' salad as well. Laura gave that a pass. There was milk and apple juice for the youngsters, and strawberry wine for the adult ponies. Surprisingly, it wasn't a sweet dessert wine and it had quite a kick! After the first gulp, Laura carefully kept herself to infrequent sips, though Chick filled his glass several times and his laughter grew louder and louder with each one. Though he made Laura wince a few times, and fold her ears back against the din, she was relieved to see everyone relaxed and happy after the tense arguments and anger earlier.

Dessert was a 'welcome back' blueberry cheesecake that Mama Bun had somehow found time to make while Laura was wandering around the farm. The base was obviously not the traditional Graham crackers and Mama Bun explained that she made it from roasted acorns, cornmeal, chopped hay, and honey.

Laura's equine taste buds found her improvised recipe scrumptious and she felt a little guilty that Buttercup wasn't allowed to have any.

After dinner, everyone crowded into the living room where a modest-sized television was set up to display video files played from a laptop. Laura was amazed that they had the equipment and electricity to expend on such a luxury.

Butter Bob proudly told her, "We paid fer technicians from Grand Falls t'upgrade our solar panels with a windmill an' we're makin' plans fer a water treatment plant so's the houses'll have running water again." He chuckled and said, "No need t'live like primitives with all this technology just layin' around now, is there?"

"Okay, what does everypony want to watch?" Mistral asked as she plugged a small external hard drive into the laptop. "Chick brought us the latest seasons of Trois tribus and Le prix d'Amour…"

"Can you please watch your soaps when I'm not around?" asked Furrowed Plow as he settled down onto the couch. "How about Shakespeare? They should have filmed Henry the Sixth Part One this year and at least that'll be in English."

Several ponies groaned at his suggestion, with the younger ones being especially loud.

Mistral tapped at the laptop's keyboard with her feathers and said, "You call that English? What else did you bring us, Chick?"

Chick settled down next to one of the arms on the couch and said, "Well, there's a dozen episodes of The Nouvelle Acadie Journal, a hoofful of new educational shows and a few pre-Event TV series and movies. I think I saw The Hobbit, Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones on the file list."

"What about toooons?" asked Tiddlywinks.

Chick barked a laugh and nodded. "Oui, yes, there are some cartoons for you little-ones as well." He patted an open space on the couch between him and Rose Blossom and gestured for Laura to join them. The couch was already a bit crowded with Furrowed, his wives and little Apple Fritter all cuddled up in a nuzzly pile at one end and Chick at the other. But there was enough of a gap for Laura to hop up and lay down without bumping rumps with anyone… at least until Tiddlywinks clambered up and wedged himself between Laura and Chick.

Mama Bun spoke up, "We can watch the new cartoons tomorrow, after class. Let's have something for adults."

The young colt wiggled and struggled to get into a good position to watch the television, accidentally hoofing Laura in the belly. "Oof!" Yes, it was just like when she visited her nephews.

Mistral switched on the television and said, "Why don't we let our guests decide?"

Chick shrugged. "It makes no difference to me, I've already watched them."

"Umm…" Laura wiggled sideways to give Tiddlywinks some room and said, "I've always been fond of The Bard, so, Henry the Sixth was it?" She ended up pressed between the wiggly colt and Rose's warm flank.

There were a few groans, but everyone settled down while Mistral cued up the video file. Mr. Plow chuckled and said, "I can't wait until they do Richard the Third."

Laura cocked a curious eyebrow and asked, "Why?"

He grinned shyly and said, "'A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse!' That will be very surreal, don't you think?"

Laura giggle-snorted while the opening credits to Théâtre du Chemin Madawaska's presentation of Henry VI played.

The movie's opening scene was a long shot of a stage with the camera looking over rows of darkened seats and silhouettes of pointy pony ears as the curtains were pulled back. On stage were several pony actors dressed in medieval-inspired costumes, gathered for the funeral of King Henry the Fifth.

There was a closer shot as the pony taking off the Duke of Bedford declared, "Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!"

Laura smirked as she watched the play unfold. For an amateur theatrical production, it was passable and the camera-work and editing were very well done. But it was bizarre watching little horses putting on a Shakespeare play even without the famous line from Richard the Third. It was like something from Pixar or perhaps an anime, given how serious the subject matter was. After a half-hour, she needed to visit the loo so she squirmed her way off of the couch and tip-hooved around various ponies who lay on the floor. Some of the younger foals had already fallen asleep and it was very sweet how they had cuddled up against one of their parents or siblings.

The hallway was lit with a few strategically placed LED lights but was still quite dim and Laura almost literally ran into Twinkle and Buttercup slash Wolf Kick. They broke off their quiet conversation as she stumbled into them.

"Oh, excuse me. Just need to use the washroom." Laura winced, half-expecting the volatile pegasus to start shouting again.

But she just stepped aside and waved Laura past. "No worries. Umm… I really am sorry for yelling at you. No hard feelings?" This time she really did sound earnest in her apology.

"No, none at all."

"Great!"

The toilet was another one of those odd composting ones, which had a slightly pooey scent but not too terrible. Much nicer than an outhouse at least. When she emerged both Twinkle and Buttercup were gone.

Laura could barely keep her eyes open by the time the play ended. Chick had to be roused from a slightly snorey slumber so that they could properly retire for the night. There was a small 'guesthouse' next door that they would be sharing with Tanisha. Chick was stuck with sleeping on a couch again but he didn't seem to mind and Laura hoped he wouldn't wake up with a hangover. Having a driver who was sore and sick would be dangerous after all. The bed in Laura's room was intended for a child but it could have fit two or three ponies. She curled the sheets back, hopped up and walked in three circles before lying down and pulling the sheets up.

As she fell asleep Laura wondered if she should use her pearls to pay for room and board before they left in the morning.

Author's Note

If anyone's interested, I've mapped out the locations and routes traveled in the first four chapters here.

As always, please let me know via PM if you see any typos.

Now with fixes courtesy of Goldfur and Dances With Unicorns :twilightsmile:

Now with even more fixes courtesy of Conflicting views. :twilightsmile:

5 - Welcome to the US of A

Toc-toc-toc.

Chicken Whisker's hoof rapped against the half-open bedroom door and he called, "Laura, are you awake?"

There was a snort and her grey muzzle poked up from under the bedsheets. She mumbled something that he couldn't understand even with his ears perked up and aimed in her direction.

"Come on, there's tea and muffins", he cajoled in a sing-song tone.

That brought her head and a scruffy brush of orange and red mane the rest of the way out from under the sheets. "Mmmf… Tea?"

Chick chuckled at her cute, sleepy expression and turned away from the door. "Don't get too excited, it's only mint but the muffins are very good."

It was a short walk to the low table in the house's kitchen slash living area. The small, one-story cottage had just two bedrooms and a bathroom, and the old, comfortable couch had made a much better bed than the damp sleeping roll in a tent that was his usual lot. He helped himself to his second of the half-dozen muffins that Mama Bun had delivered two hours ago. Tanisha had scarfed down her share, gulped a mug of tea and then trotted off to get started on her chores. She seemed determined to be a useful member of this community, despite not having a background in farming. Exactly the sort of pony they were looking for, even if she wasn't a stallion. Chick, on the other hoof, had lazed around, slowly nibbled a muffin while studying a map on Tanisha's iPad, planning out their route for today. He'd waited until the sunrise lighted the cottage's windows before getting Laura up.

She stumbled out of the bedroom wearing her sweater and yawned. Chick echoed her yawn and rubbed at an itch on his chest, pushing at the black fabric of the T-shirt he'd just put on. It was dry after hanging over a chair overnight but it was starting to get a little pungent from sweat and road grime. As she walked over to the table he pulled a black, white and red toque with the word "CANADA" knitted into it off of the teapot. Sliding his fetlock into the hoof-friendly, modified handle he poured her a steaming mug of mint tea, then moved the small leaf catching sieve onto a saucer before sliding the mug across the table.

She leaned over to inhale the pungent steam before picking the mug up between her hooves to take a long sip. She'd certainly picked up using hoof-touch very quickly. He slowly chewed on the last of his muffin while she scooped her first one out of the basket.

"We should make it past the border today… into the U.S., I mean", he said as she bit into the blueberry and hay-filled cake.

Her face lit up with a happy smile, no doubt enjoying Mama Bun's expert baking. After swallowing she asked, "You know Twinkle?"

He blinked and waggled his ears, confused by the abrupt change in subject. "Euh, yes I know her."

She blinked her long lashes a few times and asked, "Do you think she could find my ring?"

"Oh…"

He smiled slightly and wasn't sure if this was because of she loved her fiance or if she just wanted her sparkly back, but it didn't matter. This might be a good opportunity to discuss staying at the farm. He owed that much to Buttercup… and Laura too really, she could benefit from living here for a while.

"I imagine she knows a Find-It spell or two. But we have a convoy to catch up to and she must also take care of her foal. She won't be able to leave the farm for a while."

Laura gazed at her muffin while cutely nibbling on her lower lip. She sighed and said, "You're right. I simply can't ask her to abandon little Sunshine or to bring her along when there are wolves out there."

Chick laughed a little, amused by Laura's concern for Sunshine and disregard for his schedule. "Oh, I think Twinkle can take care of a wolf or three on her own. If you can wait until spring I'm sure she would help you."

Laura bit into her muffin, making appreciative mmf sounds as she chewed. Blueberries and honey! Chick sipped mint tea and regretted that he'd already finished his.

"Mmm… uh, so could you drive me back up here in the spring?"

He shrugged and said, "Sure or you could stay for the winter."

Laura paused with the muffin halfway to her muzzle. "Stay?"

"Yes, I'm sure these ponies would be happy to have you. You could start learning an earth pony trade and then have an easier time finding work in Beantown." He was sure that she'd shoot down that idea but you never knew.

Sure enough, her messy mane fluffed and bobbed as she vigorously shook her head. "No, no, no! Please don't abandon me here! I have to get to-"

"Woah! Woah, I'm not saying you have to stay", he said while holding up his hooves in a placating manner. "It's just an option, yes? You could find your ring and enjoy the best food while learning a trade and how to live as a pony. Also, while your ride to Beantown is free, if you want to come back in the spring you would need to pay for a ride here and then back again to Beantown. That would not be cheap."

Laura squinted at him suspiciously. "And Buttercup would get her promised ride if I stay."

"Yes, though I have made arrangements to take care of that, so don't worry about her." It would more profitable if she stayed. He could get Buttercup to town now and then take Laura there next year and claim his bonus. All the better if she had a trade by then. But that wasn't the only reason he was asking her to consider it. Riding with Buttercup would be easier; he'd watched the filly grow up, a little taller and more mature with each visit to their farm.

She was like a niece.

A cute, annoying and sometimes violent niece.

There would be no need to wear an uncomfortable T-shirt or squash what he feared was a growing attraction to Laura. The last thing he needed was spending days on the road, alone with a pretty mare… especially in such a small tent. She was doing that sexy lip nibbling thing again as she thought about staying. Chick shook his head, shifted his eyes to the safety of his mug.

"It… It would be lovely to have my ring when I see him again. But no, I really just need to get to Thomas as quick as I can. Sorry, but I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"That's fine. We'll leave once you've finished breakfast then."

Laura hesitated for a moment, gazing at him with a slightly surprised look on her pretty face, before smiling and chomping into her muffin. She chewed for a few moments and murmured, "Thank you", around a cheekful of cake while squinting her eyes like a happy cat.

He nodded and couldn't help returning her smile before slurping down the dregs of his tea. So, love beats sparkly. In a confusing way, he was pleased by her earnest devotion to her stallion and that he would get to spend more time with the sweet, pretty mare.

She excused herself to use the washroom after scarfing down the muffins. He killed time by cleaning up a little. The mugs and teapot went into the kitchen sink, he brushed up the crumbs and set the basket down next to the door. They could take it back over to Mama's place since they were going there anyway. He was folding up his yellow poncho when Laura came out of the washroom. She'd managed to tame her mane and tail a little but she still looked dishevelled. There was no point in suggesting that they both have a proper bath before hitting the road; they'd be wind-blown messes in minutes.

Chick was used to that. He'd been on scavenging convoys pretty much since the day he'd Returned, and before the Event he'd enjoyed going on Iron Butt rides all over Canada and the U.S. There was nothing quite like getting up with the sun and putting hundreds of kilometres behind you before stopping in some backwoods to camp. Eating a quick, re-hydrated dinner while scraping a layer of insect guts off of your helmet, and passing out in a damp sleeping bag knowing you would be doing it all over again in the morning. He loved it, but Laura was already looking worn, even after a night's rest. It couldn't be helped — he had a motorcycle, not a tour bus. She could recover at the Unicorn Castle in Beantown before tracking down this Thomas guy.

"Ready to go?"

Laura clumsily threw her forelegs around his shoulders and squeezed, doing her best as a pony to give him a human-like hug. His rump hit the floor as he sat down, surprise making his ears painfully shoot upright and then fold back. She stumbled forward a little and pressed up closer against his chest and neck. She was warm and smelled of rain, earth and mare.

"Thanks."

He gingerly patted her back through her sweater. "Euh, y-you're welcome."

She stepped back, smiled and nodded, then turned to struggle with getting the door open.

A bigger tent! He had to pick up a bigger tent before they camped tonight.

Chick coughed to clear the lump in his throat and said, "Don't forget your jacket."

"Oh! Right."

He opened the door while she went to find it. True to Mistral's wing-bone prediction, the rain had blown out to sea but it was still overcast. He grabbed the muffin basket's handle in his mouth and once Laura returned they started the short walk to Mama Bun's house. They were halfway there when Chick noticed the pegasi flying way up high to the east, pushing the grey clouds around so that the sun could dry out the farmland. He stopped in the middle of the damp road, dropped the basket and said, "Hey, look up."

"Hmm?" Laura blinked at him and then tipped her head back. "Oh!"

The distant silhouettes of ponies swooped around in the clouds, slowly compacting a section with their wings, hooves and snaps of their tails. It almost looked like they were playing and showing off with their swooping around. They probably were. After they had compressed a section of cloud down to half its original size they pressed their hooves against its springy surface and began pushing it away. Long, golden rays of sunshine cascaded down through the opening sky and onto the fields. After giving Laura a few minutes to enjoy the show, Chick started walking and she soon caught up.

He dropped off the muffin basket on the porch and turned to open the garage. He lifted the roll-up door up a few centimetres and it suddenly glowed and was slammed shut again, jerking the handle out of his hoof.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on?" He waved his stinging hoof in the air while cursing in French.

"Sorry!" Snow Twinkle called from inside the garage. "Just- just give me a minute. I'm almost done!"

Laura looked worried as Chick rapped his hoof against the glowing metal door. "Twinkle? What are you doing?"

"Ha hah! It's- It's a surprise! H-hold your horses", she laughed breathlessly and his twitching ears heard a socket wrench ratcheting.

"Pfft…" He squinted his eyes at the still-glowing door and shook his head. Though he liked Twinkle, he was not okay with her messing around with his Ural. It was an ugly, cranky pain-in-the-rump that often leaked oil for no good reason, but it was his ride! There was an inside door to the garage, so he waved a hoof to get Laura's attention and then trotted up onto the porch, yanked open the screen and urgently knocked on the front door.

Chick waited, lips tight in a frown and snorting every few seconds as Laura trotted over holding the rim of the muffin basket between her teeth. After a few frustrating minutes, the door was finally opened by Mama Bun.

"Good morning, excuse me!"

He tried to gallop past Mama but she was too fast and painfully brought him to a stop by biting his tail and hanging on. Chick yelped and almost fell, then turned to look over his shoulder when Mama Bun snorted in annoyance.

She spat out his tail and said, "Wipe your hooves! S'bad enough having to mop up after the foals without ill mannered stallions messing up my floors."

He groaned and did as instructed, wiping his not-actually-that-dirty hooves on the rug while grinding his teeth.

Laura stepped inside, making the small entryway crowded. She dropped the basket and said, "Good morning. Thank you very much for the muffins, they were lovely."

While the two mares chatted he scampered across the wood floor, down the hall and tried to open the door to the garage. The handle was glowing and he couldn't turn it. Chick banged on the door with a hoof and called, "Twinkle? Open the door!"

"Just a minute!" she sang while the ratcheting sounds continued.

"Augh!" He stomped his hooves and snorted loudly.

"Mama? What's wrong?" Three of the foals were poking their heads around the corner from the living room, all looking curious and worried about the crazy stallion.

Mama Bun waved a hoof at them and said, "It's nothing, go back to watching your lessons." She clomped up next to Chick and draped a heavy leg over his withers. "Calm down, Chicky. She's nearly finished."

Laura joined them at the stubbornly closed door and asked, "What's going on?"

Something Chick would really like to know as well.

"It's a surprise", Mama Bun said with a wink.

Chick growled in frustration, shrugged off Mama's leg and was going to pound on the door again when it suddenly swung open and he stumbled into the garage.

"Tadah!" Snow Twinkle exclaimed while waving her hooves in the air. She was dressed in blue coveralls that had smears of dirt and green paint in a few places. "What do you think?"

His motorcycle had a new addition.

A windscreen made up of three sections of glass; two triangular side pieces and a rectangular pane in the middle that was angled back for streamlining. They were mounted in a riveted metal frame which had a shiny, new coat of green paint that more-or-less matched the sidecar. It was pretty obvious that the glass had been scavenged from cars but the metal frame holding them looked custom and reminded him of a WW2 bomber's windows.

"What? Why?" he spluttered in French.

Twinkle grinned and waved proudly at her work. "I took measurements the last time you were in town and I've been working on this off-and-on all summer. I figured, if you're giving our Buttercup a ride she should at least be comfortable, eh?" She shrugged and waved a hoof at Laura. "There's no sense in putting it off because you're taking Laura instead. That'd just be petty."

Laura trotted past him to take a look while he stood there, torn between annoyance at somepony messing with his bike and guilt that Twinkle had done this even though he wasn't taking Buttercup.

"Oh my goodness!" Laura blinked a few times while taking in the addition to the sidecar. The windscreen would easily be higher than her head when she sat inside, meaning there would be no more wind or rain in her face.

"Do you like it?"

She wasn't certain if Twinkle had asked her or Chick but a glance at the pink stallion's gobsmacked expression meant that any response was probably up to her. A quick step and she somewhat clumsily threw her forelegs around Twinkle's shoulders and hugged the mare. Laura liked hugging and she hadn't had anyone to hug in weeks! A good hug was worth a ton of kind words.

"It's wonderful, thank you Twinkle", she murmured while Twinkle cheerfully wrapped her legs around Laura's shoulder to return the gesture.

It seemed like pony hugs were always going to be 'A' type hugs, so there was no worry of someone misunderstanding and trying to turn it into an 'I' hug—like creepy uncle Alistair would if given the chance. She let Twinkle go as the motorcycle's springs creaked behind her.

Chick looked over from where he'd partly climbed up onto the sidecar. He seemed to have to work at it to force a smile onto his muzzle, but he did it even though his twitching ears made it clear that he was not a happy pony. "It looks good to me too. Merci."

Twinkle nodded and said, "You're welcome. Now, c'mon, you ponies had better hit the road." She trotted over to the garage door and it quickly slid open while her horn glowed brightly. "I know you're on a schedule so I topped up the tank and you should be ready to roll."

Chick nodded and went back into the house. "I'll gear up and we can go."

Mama Bun waved to Laura over and said, "I have something for you too." She reached into one of the pockets on her apron and held out a couple of pamphlets.

They were made of A4 paper, folded in half and stapled. The black-and-white cover of one was a stylised diagram of a pregnant mare in a simple cut-away view that showed the curled up foal inside of her. The title was written in horseshoes, stars and blocky letters that could almost be Russian. Someone had put a white bar over the title and English words in the box read "YOUR HEALTHY FOAL". One of Laura's eyebrows shot up in surprise and she clumsily shuffled the pamphlets and saw that the other ones cover had a cutesy cartoon of three fillies — a pegasus, a unicorn and an earth pony — frolicking with a scattering of birds and flowers around them. The English surtitle slapped over the more fancifully drawn text read "THE MAGIC INSIDE OF YOU: A Filly's Book".

The paper was crisp and smelled slightly of fresh ink.

"Most of it's the same stuff as you probably got back in grade school but there's a few things that are different. Oh, and-", the big mare retrieved a small wire-bound book from her apron and plopped it on top of the other two, "-this'll help when you find that stallion of yours."

In contrast to the home-printed pamphlets, the spiral-bound book was novel-sized and had a glossy, full-colour cover depicting two unicorns… No. Two unicorns with pegasus wings? One was mostly white and the other mostly blue and both were gazing with sultry expressions at the silhouettes of several ponies that framed the edges of the book. The original title was very loopy and florid and even the surtitle was in a fancy-script — "Royal Appetites".

"A romance novel?" Laura looked up and saw that Mama Bun was smirking.

She winked and said, "Oh, it's a bit spicier than romance. It'll give you ideas for keeping your stallion happy."

"What's that?"

Laura squeaked and quickly hugged the book and pamphlets up against her chest so that Chick wouldn't see them. "Nothing!"

"Okaaay…" He adjusted his helmet and trotted over to the motorcycle. "Come on then, let's get gone."

Laura took a moment to tuck the embarrassing books inside her folded jacket and then, forcing her ears to perk up, she smiled up at Mama Bun. "Thank you."

I think.

No hugs for you.

"Heh. You're welcome, Laura." Mama Bun clapped a big hoof against her shoulder and said, "Have a safe trip now."

Laura stumbled and then three-legged hop-walked to the sidecar, clambered up to carefully drop the jacket into the footwell before taking a seat. Meanwhile, Chick was going through the motions of kick-starting the bike. Its roar into life was deafening in the small garage and Laura pressed her hooves over her ears while he scrambled up into the saddle then leaned down between the bike and sidecar to shove a lever or two. The juddering machine slowly backed out of the garage pushing the trailer behind it, the noise dropped down to a tolerable volume once they were outside. Chick expertly worked the handlebars to slew the trailer around and line the motorcycle up for a U-turn in the drive. With another shove of a lever, the bike started to creep forward.

Mama Bun, Snow Twinkle and several of the foals stood in the garage door, waving, and Laura could just make out Tiddley Winks squeaking, "Bye-bye, Pinkie Pie!" over the engine's rumble.

They both waved before he revved up the engine, scattering gravel from the knobby wheels. At the turn onto the lane they met Tanisha coming the other way, hauling a cart loaded with large water jugs. She paused to wave and let them pass. The lane was already starting to dry out, aside from the water-filled potholes that splashed as they slowly rode through them. Chick turned left once they reached the main road, not stopping to look for traffic. Laura grabbed at the rim of the sidecar in a panic before she remembered that there was no traffic anymore.

There was one last opportunity to wave as they accelerated down the still somewhat mucky road. Two of the farm's stallions were out in the field and when they waved Laura braced herself in the sidecar and leaned past Chick so they could see her hoof as she waved back. He was busy keeping the motorcycle under control and didn't have a hoof free to wave with. In seconds they were around a curve and trees cut off Laura's view of the farm. She felt a bit sad about leaving, even if they'd only stayed for a day. Less than a day. Mama Bun and Snow Twinkle had been very friendly and helpful, and their large, odd families were all very happy and pleasant folk. Quite a contrast to the weeks she'd spent alone. Along with the melancholy, there was a slight twinge of guilt still about poor Buttercup's situation.

With a sigh, Laura settled down into the padded seat and watched the trees and overgrown fields pass by. The windscreen worked beautifully and kept most of the wind out of her eyes, that and the lack of rain made the trip much more comfortable.

After about half an hour of hills, trees, and breath-taking river views, they crossed a long bridge and passed a rusting blue sign that read "WELCOME. BIENVENUE. THE TOWN OF GRAND-BAY WESTFIELD. EST. 1998". The sky had half cleared and warm, yellow fall sunshine made Laura feel a bit itchy in her cardigan. Leaning out a little from behind the windscreen so that the breeze could flow through her mane solved that, though she had to squint and learned the hard way that flying insects came out when it wasn't raining. Yet another reason to be grateful for Twinkle's thoughtful gift.

Ponies were vegetarians after all.

As they rode up to the intersection where they'd made a pit-stop on the ride to the farm, Chick leaned over and shouted.

"Do you need a stop?!"

"No! Thank you!"

He nodded and they rode on, through a concrete tunnel under the motorway and up the slip road to go south. Chick brought the bike to a brake-squeaking stop, fiddled around with a lever and said, "Just switching to one-wheel drive. The highway is dry and it will save fuel."

Laura nodded, not really caring much about how the motorcycle worked, just that it did.

Chick stomped the bike into gear and accelerated quickly, cut power, another pedal stomp, more loud engine revving, again and again until they were flying down the road at the highest speed they'd achieved so far. It was very unnerving since she was sitting so low to the road in the sidecar, and she clutched at the sides, holding on while her heart raced. It vibrated and juddered like an old roller coaster but it actually felt more stable at high-speed compared with slipping and sliding on the side roads. After a few minutes, Laura relaxed and settled down into the vibrating seat and went back to watching the dark-green pine forests and rocky hills whizz by.

After a quarter hour or so it became a bit boring. Such vast stretches of wild forest were rare in Britain, but after two weeks of travelling all around Eastern Canada with Thomas, they had become a bit mundane. She poked at her jacket and wondered if she could sneak out one of the health pamphlets without Chick noticing. She wasn't that worried — she was a grown woman… mare after all — but they were a tiny bit embarrassing and there was also a chance she could lose one in a gust.

She was still considering it when she noticed that Chick was guiding the bike towards the side of the motorway. They rode under a gantry and one of the large green signs on it read "Saint John West" pointing to the slip road that they took while Chick slowed the bike and shifted down through the gears. At the end of the curving road, he ignored the "STOP ARRÊT" sign and turned right at a "T" intersection. They slowly rode past a few abandoned houses on the left and rows of cars in a grassy parking lot on the right. Much to Laura's surprise he pulled off into the lot, which turned out to be a car dealership.

Ropes of multicolour plastic streamers hung along the front of "Al's Ultracar"; still a bit shiny as they fluttered in the breeze. The rows of once-gleaming American tanks, however, were filthy, rusting hulks, surrounded by wind-blown rubbish, leaves and patches of tall grass. Many had smashed windows and a few were burned, rust-red skeletons, evidence that vandals had passed through at some point. Chick guided the bike past this slightly depressing spectacle to a garage at the back of the parking area.

While Chick shut the engine off and reached down to pull on the parking brake, Laura yawned and stretched. "Umm… Why have we stopped?"

"Fuel. I cache a couple of cans here when I ride up in the spring. We won't be stopping long." He hopped down from the bike, grabbed his aluminium baseball bat and walked towards the garage. He called back, "Feel free to use the, uh, 'facilities' if you need to. But don't wander far as this won't take long."

Sensible advice. She stood up, shook her hind legs to try and relieve her numb-bum and carefully hopped out.

"Hah!"

She grinned and trotted off towards the side of the garage, her confidence perked up by how quickly she'd mastered exiting the sidecar.

By the time she returned Chick was mostly finished refuelling the bike, just tipping the dregs of an empty can into the tank before dragging it off into the garage.

"I take it that we're not stopping in Saint John?" she asked as he trotted back.

He shook his head and said, "No, the Oak Point farm ponies regularly visit to check for Returnees and to scavenge. We'll stop again when we reach the U.S. border." He kick-started the motorcycle and said, "We have to do a little shopping when we get there."

"Shopping?"

"Yes, we need a few things before we camp", he waved a hoof, "Hop in."

A few minutes later they were back on the road and riding past white houses slowly falling into decay with abandoned cars in their driveways. Laura could smell the salty tang of the ocean in the air but there was no sign of it. Just trees, houses and overgrown yards. A short ride and a few turns, they were rolling down a slip road and back onto the motorway. A motorway. Judging by the angle of the sun, Laura doubted it was the same one they'd come south on.

Once the bike was up to speed she quickly became bored of the forest and rocky hills again. Laura pawed at her jacket and pondered how she could go about reading the pamphlets. Maybe if she…? Wiggling sideways in the seat she winced and lurched forward to free her tail before working her rump over to rest against the inside panel of the sidecar. Then she flopped over on her side, curling up and rested her shoulders against the other side of the car. She dragged her jacket up and propped it against the saddlebags in the footwell and used her grippy finger-tip hoof magic to sort through Mama Bun's gifts.

No. Not the book. She shoved it deeper into the folds of her jacket. That would have to wait for some alone-time… if ever. She decided to start with the filly's book and with a wiggle she settled down for some prepubescent re-education.

The pamphlet started at page thirty-two, so it wasn't the whole book, just a chapter. It was written in storybook form with cutesy cartoon illustrations and it starred three fillies; Corn Row the earth pony, Spell Chime the unicorn, and Cloud Dipper the pegasus. They chatted about their new cutie marks as they walked through a town called "Fillydelphia".

Laura put that silly name down to the translator being cute.

She vaguely remembered Wolf Kick slash Buttercup saying that she'd earned her cutie mark by beating up a wolf. So why had she been reborn with a gem-flower thing on her bum instead of having to do something special to get it? Annoyingly the book didn't go into any more detail about cutie marks; just that the fillies were excited to finally have theirs.

They trotted along, waving hello to Corn Row's sire, dam and her older brother who were working in a field of corn. Of course, it was corn. Then Cloud Dipper's dam and mom swooped past them, herding songbirds…

Laura re-read that part. Herding songbirds? Was that actually a job in Equestria or just part of the story's cute fantasy? The illustration showed two female pegasi and a flock of birds flying over the fillies, with Corn Row's family in the background behind a log fence.

They ended up at Spell Chime's house where they greeted her sire, dam and mom. Okaaay, so, either the unusual families that Laura had seen at Oak Point farm were also popular in Equestria or the author had crammed three socially acceptable examples — one for each filly — into a very short story.

The fillies headed upstairs to Chime's room and that's where the somewhat useful information really started. Mostly it was the same sorts of thing that Laura had learned from this sort of book when she was a girl. They talked about how their bodies and feelings were changing, about what was normal and what was just silly rumour, shared body care and beauty tips. Pimples, teat development, embarrassing tail flagging when in heat… That was probably pony periods? Laura hadn't had one since she'd Returned, which was a bit unusual, alarming even. Maybe the pamphlet on pregnancy would have more useful info as this one just affirmed that it was normal that Spell Chime hadn't had her first one yet. Every filly was different and special and beautiful and that was okay.

On the last page, they were talking about clothing, which they used as accessories rather than necessities, while dressing up to go meet colts and buy cupcakes. It cut off mid-paragraph and that was the end of the section that Mama had printed.

Laura hmmf'd and tucked the pamphlet back into her jacket. It wasn't all that helpful and raised more questions than it gave answers. She wiggled around to sit up and Chick glanced at her then nodded his muzzle to point to the side of the road, urging her to take a look.

The forest was gone! No, not gone. Burned. Some black tree trunks still stood up against the partly-cloudy sky and judging by the dense brush growing up around them it must have happened years ago. There was a hint of smoky odour but that could just have been from the motorcycle's engine. They rode through the destruction and new growth for another ten or fifteen minutes while Laura looked around and saw that the forest all around them, for as far as she could see from the low-slung sidecar, had burned.

Chick began slowing down, kicking the bike into lower gears. As the noisy wind dropped Laura leaned over to poke his cutie mark with a hoof and ask, "What are we slowing down for?!"

"You'll see in a moment!"

They rounded a curve in the highway and it passed through a cut in the top of a broad hill. Crumpled up against one of the two-story high cliffs of grey rock were the remains of a lorry. As they rode closer the highway became rougher and buckled, then completely disintegrated to scorched gravel as they drew near the wreckage. Chick kicked down another gear as the bike wobbled on the shifting surface.

Laura pressed a hoof to her muzzle and her ears folded back. This was what started the fire and with no firemen to contain it, it must have burned for days! There was very little left of the lorry's cab, which was half crumpled against the rocks. The two tankers it had been pulling had flipped on their sides and were nothing but rusty, twisted frames and axles with only a few scraps of the curved tanks remaining. The cliff and ground around the wreck were scorched black and nothing grew there.

"What happened?"

Chick struggled with the handlebars for a moment and said, "When everypony vanished, if they were in a moving vehicle it went with them somehow. So this guy-", he quickly waved a hoof at the lorry, "-he came back with his truck and crashed. Pouf! Fire everywhere."

Laura swallowed, rethinking her wish that she and Thomas had been driving to Saint John when the Event had happened. "Did they survive?"

He glanced at her and by the look in his eyes, she knew he was going to say "No". Had he seen the remains?

"I don't think so but who knows? Maybe", he lied.

A few moments later they cleared the worst of the road's destruction and Chick started to accelerate.

Laura turned away from the dismal wreckage and her voice cracked a little when she asked, "How much further?!" Better to ask now before the wind made it too difficult to talk.

"Not long, a quarter hour or so!"

"Okay, thank you."

She settled back into her seat as a heavy, black weight sank into her heart. That poor lorry driver. They'd never had a chance. She sniffled and rubbed her muzzle while staring at the scorched forest. It wasn't long before the blackened skeletons gave way to a healthy forest again, a sight that helped perk up her mood a little. She saw some short mountains in the distance but the trees obscured most of the view.

Arrival at the border was a bit underwhelming. They were riding past a few silent factories with dormant smokestacks when the motorway split into two. In between there was a parking lot and large customs building decorated with the Canadian flag. Then onto a short bridge and halfway across Chick cheerfully yelled, "Welcome to America! Get your passport ready and prepare to be strip searched."

She'd left her passport behind in the rotting shell of the caravan! Before she could get a good worry going she heard him laughing. Oh. Ha hah. Very droll. She snorted, shook her head and smiled a little.

He slowed the bike when they reached the American customs but only to squeeze past a line of cars and trucks that were patiently waiting at one of the inspection gates. A row of empty flagpoles made cheerful clinking sounds as their ropes tapped against them in the breeze. They didn't stop and rolled through one of the half-dozen gates which had the drop bar broken off. From there it was a short ride to a roundabout, the first one she could recall seeing over here, and then left, past yet more empty houses with the remains of cars in their driveways.

Chick kept the motorcycle slow and said, "We're looking for South Street. Let me know if you see it, eh?"

A few minutes later they were passing through a strange three-road intersection when she spotted a tiny blue sign. "There!" She pointed a hoof but they were almost past it as Chick hit the brakes and she slid forward into the mound of saddlebags.

"What? Where? I didn't see-"

Laura sat back and pointed down the road. "That's it. I saw a sign, that's South Street." She expected him to argue, as most men do when a woman tries to give directions, but to his credit he just nodded and awkwardly manoeuvred the motorcycle around a central reservation and revved the engine. They were now on the wrong side of the road but that probably didn't matter.

They almost missed the entrance to their destination because of the dense forest but Chick spotted it just in time and pulled into the driveway of a Walmart. They rode across a vast plain of empty parking spaces to the loading docks on one side of the building and squeaked to a halt.

With a quick flick of a red switch on the handlebars, Chick killed the engine and said, "We won't be-" A sudden, loud noise like someone beating a drum came from the trailer and the motorcycle bounced slightly as something scrambled out. Chick's head whipped around as he tracked something… someone galloping toward the forest next to the store.

Laura stood up in the sidecar in time to see a yellow blur with a long, blue tail disappear into the bushes.

"Tabarnak! Buttercup!"

The filly hollered back, "Hang on!"

Laura just stared, stunned, but Chick was instantly furious! He scrambled down from the motorcycle, yelling and spitting French curses that sounded quite foul.

Rising up on her hind legs, Laura set her fore hooves on the warm sheepskin that covered the bike's saddle. This let her stand up a little higher to peer into the forest, though she couldn't make out Buttercup through the underbrush.

"I don't speak French and I'm kinda busy here!" Her not-very-quiet moan of relief made it pretty clear what business she was taking care of.

Laura couldn't help it. She tried to fight it, to squish it down inside, but that only made it even louder when she burst out laughing. Chick stomped his hooves and yanked off his helmet. It looked like he might throw it at the ground and he was apocalyptically angry. Normally that would scare Laura but she couldn't stop laughing.

Chick turned to glare at her and she pressed a hoof over her muzzle but seeing such a grouchy expression on his very pink, cute pony face just made her splutter and start laughing again. Though not quite as loudly as that first outburst.

With exaggerated care he placed his helmet on the ground next to the bike and turned around as Buttercup emerged from the forest. She paused for a moment to wipe one of her hind hooves against the grass before trotting over to them.

"Hi, Chick! Hi, uh…"

"Laura", both Chick and Laura said.

"Right. Hi, Laura."

Chick snorted and asked, "What are you doing here, Buttercup?"

"Wolf Kick", blurted Laura.

Buttercup's muzzle wrinkled in disgust. "Nope! That was lame."

Laura had to agree, but most of the Equestrian-style names she'd heard so far sounded a bit daft. "Buttercup then?" she asked.

Buttercup grimaced and nodded slightly, "Yeah, I guess."

Chick huffed, glared at her and asked again, "What are you doing here?"

She fluffed her wings, sat up on her hindquarters and tapped her hooves together. After a moment she sheepishly looked away and whined, "Weeell… I kinda sorta talked Aunt Twinkie into helping me stow away."

"Twinkle. Of course", Chick grumped. "Do your parents know about this?"

Buttercup grinned a little and said, "They do by now. But it's frosty, they were gonna send me with you anyway, right?"

Chick just glared at her.

"Aww… c'mon. We're just killin' two birds with one stone, right? It's efficient! You like that, don't you? I get to Beantown-", she gestured with a wing at Laura, "-she gets to Beantown, you get to Beantown. Everypony's happy."

He sighed and rubbed a hoof across his face while muttering something in French that Laura couldn't make out but that sounded rather self-pitying. He looked up at Buttercup and said, "No, I am not happy. I don't know how you squeezed onto my trailer but it's too dangerous for you to ride back there. How did you even fit?"

"It's okay, we set up a bed n stuff. It's kinda cramped but-"

"You what?!"

Chick stomped off toward the trailer with Buttercup trailing after him, her wings fluttering anxiously. Laura carefully hopped down from the sidecar and trotted back there as well. Chick tugged a tie-down free and then lifted the blue tarp out of the way. It was kind of ingenious how Twinkle had set it up; a few planks had been laid over boxes on either side of the trailer to create a hollow in the middle and then other plastic boxes and trash bags had been piled on top. Though she'd never seen the contents of the trailer before, Laura guessed that Twinkle must have tried to keep the profile of the load the same. The hide-away had some pillows and a set of saddlebags stuffed into it, leaving just enough room for a small pony to curl up.

"Buttercup?"

"Yes, Chick?"

"Where are my cases of wine and crate of smoked muskie?" Chick asked with forced calm.

Buttercup kicked a hoof against the parking lot surface and muttered, "Back at the farm, duh."

Chick angrily snapped the tarp back down and turned to yell at the filly, which made Laura want to both restrain him and run away. Torn between fight-and-flight she just stood there with her ears pinned back while Buttercup crouched and spread her wings.

Fortunately, he got a grip on himself. After a heavy breath and a snort he growled, "Look, I understand, though Twinkle should have known better." He jabbed a hoof at the cart. "But now… Now I have orders I can't fill. Sure we'll all get to Beantown but I'll have nothing to sell when I get there!" His voice grew louder, creeping up into a yell, "I've already paid your family for the wine and fish! I'll lose money on this trip!" He lapsed into French for a few moments before falling silent while rubbing a hoof against his forehead.

Buttercup whined, "I'm sorry."

Laura pushed through her anxiety to take a few steps forward and rest a hoof on Chick's leather-jacketed shoulder while he panted after his outburst. It served him right for trying to sneak in and out of the farm without really thinking about Buttercup's feelings. Small wonder that she'd taken matters into her own… hooves. He was overreacting to losing a little profit and yelling certainly wouldn't sort anything out. Still, this was partly her fault even though she'd had no real choice in the matter.

"I'm sorry as well. If I hadn't insisted on taking Buttercup's place this wouldn't have happened." She patted Chick's shoulder while Buttercup gave her a hopeful look. "So, what are we going to do now? Are we going to take her home?"

Buttercup squeaked, "No!"

"I can't." Chick shook his head and waved a hoof at Buttercup, "We're already well behind the convoy and if she is coming with us then we don't have much time before the fall trip to Alexandria leaves. Three, maybe four days. I have some stuff here that needs to go there as well-", he frowned at Buttercup, "-so long as you didn't remove those boxes."

She rapidly shook her head and said, "Nope, nope, just the wine and… oh yeah!" Buttercup ducked under the trailer's tarp and hauled out a small set of black-and-white cowhide saddlebags, dropping them onto the cracked tarmac. After nosing around in them for a moment she pulled out a plastic resealable bag and held it out to Chick, gripping it with the feathers at the tip of her wing.

Laura blinked in surprise. This must be some kind of pegasus magic similar to what she and Chick could do with their hooves. Feathers instead of fingers. It seemed like pegasi and unicorns both had a leg-up on earth ponies; flight and easily being able to hold things? And what did earth ponies have? Growing food. Wonderful…

Inside the bag were a couple of small gemstones and a plain gold band. "Aunt Twinkie said to give you this, to make up for the wine and stuff. She's gonna hang onto it for you and you can pick 'em up in the spring."

Chick reached out to take the bag and glanced at the contents. "Good, well, thank you. This helps." He tucked it into a jacket pocket while Buttercup nodded and held up another peace-offering in her feathers.

"Want an apple? I'm starving 'cause I had to skip breakfast so I wouldn't explode on the ride here."

Laura was hungry as well, it must be past noon and the delicious muffins were a distant memory. So they sat together for a few minutes on the icky-feeling parking lot and munched on Honeycrisp apples that came from a wild orchard near the Oak Point farms. Laura was a little bothered when both of them ate the cores and when she was going to throw hers away Buttercup snatched it and scarfed it down.

Chick chuckled at her disgusted expression and said, "We're ponies now, Laura. You'll get used to it. Now, I'm going to go into the store and look for a tent because the one I have is too small for all of us. You wait here and-"

"I wanna come!" Buttercup yelped, spraying a little apple juice. "There might be wolves and badgers and stuff. I can watch your back!" She crammed the last chunk of apple core into her mouth and chomped on it.

"No, there'll be nothing like that. It will just be spiders and mice." Despite his confident words he trotted around to the side of his motorcycle and pulled his aluminium baseball bat out of its holster.

Buttercup trotted after him, flapping her wings. "Hey! What's that for then? I'm totally coming too and you can't stop me!"

He dropped the bat from his mouth, caught it with a hoof and said, "This is for just in case."

"Actually, I'd like to come along as well", Laura piped up. She could look for a new cardigan, though she'd keep this one and have it washed. It was her last connection to old-Laura after all and she wanted to wear it when she reunited with Thomas.

Chick sighed and said, "Okay, fine. Buttercup, you stay with her and fight off any packs of rabid mice, alright? I'll find a tent and we'll meet back here in half an hour."

Buttercup saluted with a hoof and barked, "Sir, yes sir!"

Laura giggled behind a hoof and wondered if the filly had been spending time with Master Corporal Snodgrass.

Chick rolled his eyes and rooted around in one of the motorcycle's metal cases for an LED torch with head straps. Laura blinked and nodded. That was a good idea, as there wouldn't be any lights on in the shop after all. She trotted over to the sidecar and dug out her own head torch and tugged it over her ears. Hopefully, the batteries were still okay — perhaps they should look for some in the shop? How many years would batteries last, sitting on a shelf?

They walked over to the loading docks where one of the doors had plainly been broken open and then secured with a bit of rope. Once it was untied, Chick shoved it open on squeaky hinges and switched on his torch. Laura fumbled with hers until she remembered to use her hoof's magic to feel for and press the little rubber button.

"Follow me through the office and we'll split up in the store." He walked slowly into the darkness, waving his lamp around, with Buttercup and then Laura following behind.

Their hoofsteps echoed inside a large loading dock, where plastic-wrapped pallets of boxes lay scattered around in disarray. Some of them were torn open and surrounded by empty packages, signs of a previous visitor. Spider webbing and dust covered everything in a thin film that Laura had no desire to disturb, and the air was still and musty smelling. There was a little washed-out light from the open door behind them but without the torches they would have been stumbling around in the dark.

Chick led them into a corridor that had a few office doors. He stopped several times to wave his baseball bat and clear away webs that stretched between the walls. They crept past a cork board of yellowed memos and a calendar that was open on "MAY - 2015". At the end of the hall was another door that had been kicked open, with splintered hoofprints on it, that led into the store's main hall. There was a little more light thanks to the store's front wall of windows but they'd come out near the back of the store and it was very dim. And rank. There was still a strong odour of mould but now it had an unpleasant sour note added that vaguely reminded Laura of salad or fruit rotting in the bottom drawer of a fridge. Their hooves clattered loudly on the tile floor until Chick brought them to a halt. Laura's ears twitched around, trying to focus on a symphony of loud splats caused by water dripping from the roof far overhead.

"Okay, I'll be over there", Chick pointed with his cobwebby baseball bat, "Shout if you need me."

After he trotted off, Laura sighed and turned to Buttercup and asked, "What would you like to look for?"

"Comics!" She grinned and turned to trot away between displays of men's clothing, "They should be over this way if the store's like the one in Saint John."

Laura followed the filly's happily wagging tail, keeping her head up so that the torch would throw its light far in front of them. She glanced at the tall racks of clothing that they walked past and sighed unhappily. There was no point in looking for a new cardi in this mess. Everything was covered in dust, spiders, mould and who knew what else. Hopefully, Chick would have better luck with the tent.

They found long magazine racks where Buttercup said they would be and fortunately none of the dripping or shallow puddles had soaked the area. Though the comics and magazines had suffered a bit, they were mostly intact with just humidity rippled pages and a musty smell. And spider webs, of course. The shelf of comics faced the entrance of the store and there was just enough light for Buttercup to see by, which meant Laura was free to use her torch. She idly poked around with fashion magazines that were two decades and a change in species behind the times. Laura wasn't a fashion maven by any means, she favoured simple, cute and comfortable outfits, but unfortunately the Arts magazines were on an upper shelf and she couldn't reach them.

There was a muffled thump from the other end of the store where Chick had gone, like something soft and heavy being dropped on the floor. Laura's ears twitched but there was nothing more aside from the constant drip, drip, drip of water. She tucked TeenVOGUE neatly back onto the shelf and then walked towards the end of the aisle, curious about what he was doing.

"Merde!"

There was a loud crash of metal shelves and Laura froze, standing halfway in the aisle with her ears flat and her eyes wide open. There was a deep, guttural growl that made her hair stand on end! It sounded like a big-cat was loose in the shop! There were scurrying sounds followed by more French curses and metallic crashing. Laura opened her mouth to call out when she spotted something large running in a weird, humping lope down the aisle towards her, something brown and furry. It's high-pitched chitters and brightly glowing eyes sent a chill up her spine and her hooves slipped on the smooth tile as she tried to frantically back up into the magazine aisle.

The animal didn't take any notice of her but as it loped past Buttercup screamed loudly and shot past Laura as she slipped and crashed into the magazine rack. The little mare was a bloodthirsty blur as she lashed out with one of her hind legs and kicked the creature hard, sending it flying under a bin-table of five-dollar DVDs.

Buttercup landed on the floor, head down and glaring under the table while Laura sprawled out on the floor behind her. There was a bestial squeal, a scrabbling of claws and more chittering as the creature fled. Buttercup snorted loudly and stomped her hooves, just to make sure.

"Laura? Buttercup? Are you okay down there?"

Buttercup threw her head back and called out in a high-pitched voice, "Yeaaah! Just a raccoon."

With a gasp, Laura flailed her hooves and struggled to get up. Just a raccoon?! That thing was gigantic! Had the Event done something to them as well?

Her head swam as Buttercup turned around and held out a hoof. "Y'alright?"

"Y-yes."

She took the filly's hoof, struggled to get her own under herself and then leaned against the magazine rack while she caught her breath. Her right bum cheek felt a little sore but she was more frightened than hurt.

Buttercup grinned at her in the torch-light, bounced and said, "Pretty cool, right? Did you see when I kicked it?"

"Yes, I… umm…" Laura couldn't help smiling at the delight on Buttercup's face. She blew a loose strand of orange mane off of her face and said, "Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome!"

Buttercup pranced back over to the comic books, sat down and went back to sorting through them as if nothing had happened.

Laura swallowed, panned her torch around and nervously asked, "You don't suppose there are more of them in here, do you?"

"I dunno. Maybe?" Buttercup sounded hopeful as she tossed another comic into the discard pile.

A few minutes later there was another muffled thump from where Chick was and then the sound of something heavy being dragged. Laura turned and saw Chick's silhouette against the shop window as he backed out of a distant aisle dragging a long sack with his teeth. He stopped to get a better grip on it and began dragging it towards them. Laura angled her head so that the torch's light wouldn't be in his eyes. It only took a few minutes before he arrived and spat out the drawstring from a large, blue sack that was no doubt stuffed full of tent.

"Hi."

"Hi, Laura. Are you both alright? It didn't bite you or anything?" He panned his torch between Laura and Buttercup, brows furrowed in concern.

"No, we're fine." Aside from being terrified and fed up with filthy stores full of monsters.

Buttercup hopped up onto her hooves and said, "I kicked its ass, Chick! You should've seen it!" She grinned and bounced a little while flaring her wings. "It was going for Laura but I jumped out, ambushed it and POW, I bucked it off of her and it ran the fuck awa-"

"Hey! Hey, no swearing." Chick growled and shook a hoof at her. "I promised Mama that when you ride with me I'd look after you like she would. So no swearing."

"You swear all the time!"

He chuckled and said, "True, but I swear in French and that makes it classy. So, you're both okay then? Nothing we need a first aid kit for?"

Laura was going to say that she was fine again but Buttercup pointed at her and said, "I'm great but she fell over."

"Oh?"

Embarrassed, Laura waved a hoof and protested, "Yes, but no harm done."

Chick looked her over again, nodded and said, "Okay. I found us a tent so if you're finished in here then let's go, eh?"

While he picked up the drawstring of the tent in his mouth, Laura had a last look around at the filthy stock and sighed. There was nothing in here she even wanted to touch, let alone wear, so she was stuck with the same old cardigan. Maybe she could wash it in a creek or something when they stopped for the evening. She followed behind Chick and Buttercup as they retraced their route to the loading bays, swinging her torch around and keeping her ears up in case the raccoon wanted an encore.

Her nostrils flared as she walked outside, drinking in the fresh pine and ocean-scented air.

After Chick carefully secured the door he dragged the tent over to the motorcycle. His muscular, horse-like body making light work of it, despite the tent being large and heavy looking. He dropped it near the sidecar and then called to Buttercup, who was stuffing her saddlebags into the trailer.

"Hey, Buttercup."

"Yeah?"

Laura reached up to her head to fumble with the switch for her head-torch.

"Come here for a moment."

Chick half-climbed into the sidecar to dig around in his saddlebag while Buttercup trotted over.

"Yeah? What?"

He climbed down with a bristle hairbrush in his mouth, spat it out into his hoof and handed it to the patiently waiting filly. "Here. I'm going to secure the tent while you brush Laura off."

"Brush me off?" Laura turned to look at her right side where she'd landed on the floor and saw that she and her cardigan were caked in a layer of grey dust, spiderwebs and beetle corpses. She shrieked and sidled sideways, dancing a little on her hooves. "Oh my God! Oh my God!"

Buttercup giggled. "Hold still, I'll get it off."

Laura's skin crawled and she trembled as she was enthusiastically, but not gently, brushed clean by Buttercup. Every few strokes she waved a wing to blow the horrid cloud of dust and insect parts away. Meanwhile, Chick struggled to get the big, blue tent bag secured to the motorcycle. He shoved it up across the back of the sidecar and the motorcycle's rear mudguard and then lashed it in place with some elastic cord.

He walked over and asked, "Are you ready? I want to get out of here and away from the ocean before nightfall. It's not much further to a safe campsite."

"All done!" Buttercup handed him the filthy brush and sneezed loudly.

Laura certainly didn't feel clean but she said, "Thank you", anyway.

Chick looked at the filthy brush and wrinkled his muzzle. "Eugh… Should have grabbed another one while we were in the store. Oh well, it will wash out." He tucked the handle into a jacket pocket and said, "Okay, everypony mount up."

He walked to the back of the trailer with Buttercup while Laura shuddered and gave herself a little shake that knocked some more dust loose. Adjusting the grotty cardigan on her back she walked to the sidecar while feeling itchy and twitchy all over. Once Buttercup was settled in the trailer Chick went through the kick-start dance and then climbed up onto the saddle. Laura sat quietly while he fiddled with the levers and got the bike moving. She was feeling a bit queasy from the dirt that felt embedded in her furry coat and jittery from the shock they'd had in the store. A cup of tea, a biscuit, and an hour or two in front of the telly would have been lovely right now. After a long bath of course. She wished they hadn't stopped. That she hadn't bothered going inside. It felt like all the cheerfulness she'd gained from visiting the Oak Point farm was gone.

She settled down into the seat as they crossed the parking lot and she hoped that wherever they were camping tonight would be less depressing than this ghost town.

"It used to be what?"

"A fireworks store." He shut the engine off and cheerfully said, "Animals avoid it. I guess they don't like the smell or something."

Laura sighed. Their camping spot was not exactly beautiful but at least the mix of pine and pale birch trees that surrounded the gravel parking lot hadn't burned when the store went up. There wasn't much left of the large shack — a concrete foundation with a few blackened boards, and warped and rusting metal roof panels scattered around the gravel parking area. Which was being colonised by scrub grass.

Chick started untying the tent after sending Buttercup into the woods to look for firewood. Laura watched the small, yellow pegasus flutter about between the trees, diving down now and then to scoop up fallen branches to fly over to their campsite. She walked over to where Chick was struggling with one of the elastic cords and asked, "Is there anything I can do?"

Not that she had any experience with camping. Sure, she had stayed in a yurt once but other than travelling in the caravan with Thomas her experience with 'roughing it' was pretty limited. He let go of the cord so that he could talk and grunted in annoyance at it as it snapped back against the tent bag.

He glanced at her and said, "Ehm, actually I was thinking maybe you'd like to get cleaned up?"

"Oh?" Her ears perked up and she hopefully asked, "Is there a stream nearby?"

"No. Well, there is but you'd have to wade through a marsh to get to it." He hopped down from the bike and led her to the trailer where, after a bit of rooting around under the tarp, he dragged a plastic Jerry can with a spout to the edge. He jumped down and said, "I have a washcloth you can use. It's not drinking water but you could at least get clean, eh?"

"Yes, thank you." It was not the steamy shower that she craved or a tub of scented bubbles to sink into, but she could make do.

While the others set up the tent, chopped wood, and got a fire going, Laura hid behind the trailer's bulk and undressed. She draped her cardigan over the trailer's side and got to work on her filthy hide; soaking the cloth, wiping down, rinse, repeat. It was awkward, twisting and turning to try and wipe off her sides, back and various too-many legs but the grippy-hoof that Chick had taught her helped. The cloth still managed to get away from her and land in the dirt once or twice. Washing like this was a strangely intimate thing to do out in the open. It was almost a shame that it wasn't still raining as that would have made it easier. The breeze was a bit chilly on her damp skin but not unbearably so. She found Chick's hairbrush and gave it a thorough rinsing before working it through her mane and tail, cleaning out the last of the spider webs. Her garish mane was at least made of thicker hair than when she was human, so there were fewer tangles to tug out.

It took over half of the water jug but she finally felt reasonably clean when she was done. The cloth was a bit grey despite soaking and wringing it out several times. She draped it over the edge of the trailer and with a sour grimace she inspected her filthy cardigan. There was no way to wash it and the thought of putting it on made her skin crawl.

Laura sighed and muttered, "When in Rome", before stepping out from behind the trailer and slowly walking over to the campsite.

They'd set it up between the demolished shack and the road on a flat area of earth that was overgrown with tall grass and weeds. Chick and Buttercup had trampled down a swath of it to expose a ring of stones where he had just started a campfire. His saddlebags with the pots and pans were sitting off to one side and when she saw them her tummy grumbled.

"Hey, lady!" chirped Buttercup, "You finished over there?"

"Umm… it's 'Laura' and yes."

"Great!" Buttercup leapt up into the air and quickly flew over to the back of the trailer.

Chick sat up from where he'd been blowing into the bottom of a smoking pyramid of wood and gazed at her. The weight of his eyes made her flush and her tail twitched and tucked down tighter against her rump. His nostrils flared and he blinked, seemed to realise that he'd been staring and quickly went back to tending the fire.

"You look good… cleaner."

Her ears flicked down and then back up again and she nodded. "I feel better, thank you. I'm afraid I used up quite a lot of your water."

"Bienvenue. Uh… I mean, no problem."

She chuckled nervously and sidled around to the windward side of the fire and sat on the flattened grass. "I do know a little French."

"You do?" He carefully placed another slightly damp branch in the flames and gave her a curious look.

"Yes. Thomas and I stayed in Quebec City — that's where he proposed — and I've done the Grand Tour. Spain, France, Italy. I've picked up a few words. Enough to order thé au lait et un croissant or to ask where the toilettes pour femmes are." Her pronunciation was stilted, not at all like how the words rolled fluidly off of his tongue.

He chuckled and quietly said, "C'est bon."

Buttercup buzzed past clutching her pillows from the trailer and dove into the tent. A few seconds later she zipped by again, heading back to the trailer.

Laura looked up at the clouds that were turning an orange-pink as the sun set. The sky was mostly clear now and they should have a wonderful view of the stars once they came out. That was one of the things that had struck her after she'd returned. The night skies were so much brighter and clearer. Crickets and frogs sang in the forest while the fire snapped and made fluttering sounds as the flames spread and took hold.

Buttercup trotted up to the fire and dumped her black-and-white saddlebags on the grass. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Oh?"

"She's making us dinner tonight." Chick stood up and unhooked a pot from his saddlebags, passing it to Buttercup who started digging around in her own bags. He also produced a knife, plate, some bowls, and his aluminium bottle of magically sterile water.

"Oh, well thank you, Buttercup. What are we having?"

Buttercup waved a hoof at a potato, two carrots, an onion and a plastic Tupperware container with something greenish in it. She grinned and said, "Silage stew. My mama taught me how to cook so I'm gonna make sure we have something good to eat, not whatever Chicky was gonna throw together." Chick snorted at that but she ignored him and assured them, "Silage stew looks kinda gross but it's great. Really!"

With nothing else to do Laura lay down on the cooling ground, tucked her hooves under her chest and stared into the fire while they fixed dinner. The filly chopped vegetables for the pot while Chick tended the fire, first working it down to a bed of flaming coals, then throwing a few more branches on, and setting up a metal trivet over it. Buttercup pried open the Tupperware and Laura's nose was assaulted by the reek of something sour and fermented. She tipped a lump of something that looked like soggy lawn clippings onto the vegetables and then poured in water from Chick's bottle.

Laura fanned her muzzle with a hoof and gasped, "What on earth is that?"

"Sour silage!" came Buttercup's cheerful reply.

"Yes, but, what is it?"

Chick bit the pot handle and slid it onto the fire.

"It's grass and stuff", Buttercup said and grabbed salt and pepper shakers, one in each wing-tip. She liberally shook them over the pot. "You heap it up and let it sit for a while. There's a few ways to do it, and the sour silage kind tastes like pickles if you do it right."

Laura felt her stomach twist at the thought. So it really was lawn clippings. Compost. Maybe she'd skip dinner tonight.

Chick laughed at the look on her face and said, "Wait until you taste it. It really is delicious and, like those apple cores, it's good for us ponies. You'll see."

She wrinkled her nose and muttered, "Well… alright." She'd certainly eaten some queer things when she travelled, so she'd try to keep an open mind about it.

"Hey, Laura?" Buttercup dropped her stirring spoon onto the plate and asked, "Why do you have a funny accent?"

"I'm from England."

"Really? That's an island on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, right?"

"Yes, it is. My fiance and I were on a vacation here in Canada when…" Laura shrugged and felt her ears move on their own to echo it.

"Oh, okay. Sorry." Buttercup stood up to give the pot a stir.

"Sorry? There's nothing for you to be sorry about." Much as she was disgusted by the ingredients, the smell coming from the pot was making her mouth water.

Buttercup sat down again and said, "S'just, you seemed kinda sad. Whenever I ask somepony about what it was like before they're either sad or too happy, like, fake happy. Mama said to not pester anypony about it, but I've always wondered about stuff. Like, what was it like living in cities full of billions of people or what did pepperoni taste like?"

Laura glanced at Chick, but he seemed quite happy to zone out and stare into the fire while they chatted. He looked tired.

"Well… I'm not upset if you want to talk about it. Living in a big city is ironically rather lonely since when you crowd people together like that they do their best to ignore one another. And pepperoni mostly just tastes like salt, garlic and fennel." She paused while Buttercup nodded, but she didn't seem to have any more questions at the moment. Laura went on, "I am sad that I probably won't see my home or my family again but my fiance is in Beantown and that gives me hope. Something to look forward to."

"Yeah, Aunt Twinkie told me. Guess that's why you're in a rush to get there? I'd be pretty eager if I had a hot stud waiting to give me a pony ride!" Buttercup snickered and waggled her ears in much the same way someone might raise and lower their eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Laura blushed and snorted slightly in surprise. Buttercup seemed like an impish urchin, with her small size and comic books, but how old was she? Teenage? Old enough to make saucy comments like that, and Mama Bun was fine with sending her on a long journey, so she must be considered a responsible adult.

Sort of responsible anyway.

"Well, ah, you're certainly eager to get to Beantown as well. You'll be going on to Alexandria after that, right?"

"Yeah, to learn cloud punching."

"What?"

"Weather manipulation. Back home we only do the basic stuff that Mistral taught me. Things she learned from one of the books. For more advanced stuff I need somepony to show me the right way to do it, watch me and tell me what I'm doing wrong, and also how to coordinate a bigger team." She stood up to stir and said, "That's what my folks want me to learn and bring back to the farm but I also wanna take combat training."

Combat training? Laura winced and fought to keep a pleasant smile on her face. Although it made sense that the petite pegasus would be interested in that sort of thing, given how she had reacted to the raccoon, and if her story about how she'd earned her cutie mark was true.

"They teach that in Alexandria?"

Buttercup nodded and stirred the greenish stew, pressing a chunk of potato against the side of the pot to see if it was done. "Yup. I figure since it's the biggest town, Alexandria has gotta have an army or at least guards. I'm sure somepony there does combat training so I'm signing up for that too. Mama would ground me if she found out, but we gotta be ready if somepony attacks the farm." She clucked her tongue and said, "I also wanna meet other ponies, hang out, go on dates, y'know?"

She slurped a little soup off of the spoon and nodded. "Ok, it's ready!"

Mama Bun probably had her fingers… hooves… crossed, hoping that her daughter would find a husband. Laura's mum had been delighted to meet Thomas and had quickly gone from 'find someone nice' to 'give me grandkids', even before he'd proposed! She sniffled and shook her head. It would be grandfoals now, if she ever saw mum again.

Chick dragged the pot off of the fire and served up three bowls of steaming stew along with chunks torn off of a loaf of bread. There was no table and no utensils, so she followed their lead and placed her bowl on the ground so she could dip the bread and lean down to eat the sour stew. The root vegetables were still crunchy and could have done with another half-hour on the boil but she was surprised at how flavourful it was. It reminded her of a sweet-and-sour dish she'd had in India, only much less spicy and sweet. The grass was a bit chewy but her strong, flat teeth made short work of it. She passed on seconds and star gazed while Chick and Buttercup polished it off.

Buttercup sprawled on her back in the grass waved a hoof in the air and announced, "I cooked, so you guys have to clean!" After which she burped loudly.

Giggling, Laura said, "That's fair."

She gathered up the knife, spoon and the pot to carry over to the trailer, while Chick piled the plate and bowls into a stack. He balanced them on one hoof while doing a three-legged walk, a bit like a waiter.

He gave them to Laura after she'd rinsed the pot. He yawned and mumbled, "We should get some sleep."

Laura yawned, hiding her mouth behind a crooked foreleg and then went back to rinsing off the bowls. "Should someone stay up and keep watch?" There could be more gigantic raccoons, wolves or other animals lurking in the dark woods.

He shook his head and started walking back to the tent. "No, as I said, animals avoid this place and we're far enough from the ocean that it's safe."

"What is it about the ocean, anyway?"

He blinked and looked at her in confusion, "Hmm?"

"You've said a few times that it's bad to be near water… near the ocean."

"Oh, well…" He seemed reluctant to discuss it but sighed and went on, "There are things that live in the ocean."

"Things? Like mermaids?" She'd seen enough crazy magic in the last few days that it wouldn't have surprised her if he said 'yes'.

"No. Terrible things," he grumbled before gently prodding Buttercup with a hoof. "Come on sleepy head, grab your saddlebags and get into the tent before you doze off."

She grunted and rolled over onto her belly before whining, "What did you call me?"

"'Sleepy head'. Come on or no bedtime story for you."

They shambled into the tent and Chick zipped the door closed before struggling out of his jacket and flopping down onto his sleeping bag. The saddlebags ended up in the middle of the large dome tent, with the mares on the left side and Chick on the right. Laura was grateful that one of them had laid out her little sleeping bag and she slipped inside to curl up. The trampled down grass beneath the tent was not a soft mattress but that was not going to keep her awake.

"Hey, what about my story?" Buttercup sleepily complained from where she lay on her pillows.

Chick snorted. "Go to sleep."

"Aww."

Author's Note

bitterchert: I'm glad you've finally got those two off their hinies. :)
mee: Me too! Gods... what a struggle. I should be writing about little burros instead of ponies. ;)
bitterchert: My Stubborn Pony :)

Sorry for taking so long on this chapter. Life has been a bit difficult and I needed to retreat into re-reading some of my favorite stories for a while.

Proof reading and edits courtesy of Cross Lament.

Please PM me if you see a typo. Merci. :twilightsmile:

Now with edits courtesy of Conflicting views. :twilightsmile:

6 - Road Block

Laura lay in front of the fire with her forelegs stretched out and almost touching the rocks that ringed it. Her hooves should have been roasting, but she felt nothing. She gazed through the flames at a man sitting cross-legged on the ground. The silent stranger wore his curly black hair long and he had a bushy beard. He was dressed in heavy work boots, worn jeans, a red checkered shirt, and the black baseball cap crammed over his thick hair had a red 'B' stitched onto the front. His expression was pensive; frowning as he stared into the fire. Without thinking, she stood up and slowly walked towards him and into the flames. They didn't hurt, didn't burn, but were extremely bright.

Laura gasped as her eyelids fluttered open. For a moment she confused the darkness inside her sleeping bag with being blinded by the dream fire.

It was far too warm inside the sleeping bag, which might explain the odd dream. She pawed at the edge of it and flipped it away from her groggy head. The tent was almost as dark as inside the bag but at least it was cooler. She inhaled deeply and as she exhaled she felt the fluttering rumble in her chest of a quiet, involuntary whinny.

Something warm shifted against her back.

Shocked, she instinctively jerked away and felt a bony limb draped over her shoulder wiggle and grasp as the warm weight snugged up against her back again.

Buttercup sleepily mumbled, "Quiddit, sis."

"What?" Laura quietly hissed and tried to crane her head around to look at the filly who was cuddled up against her. It was too dark to see much of anything. She flexed a leg to nudge Buttercup with a shoulder blade. "What the devil are you doing in my bed?"

Laura felt Buttercup's smaller pony body stretch and shiver against her back while she yawned. Her warm, rank breath made Laura's muzzle wrinkle.

"Mmmf… Oh, hi, lady."

"Laura!" she whispered tightly. Honestly, how difficult was it to remember her name? She asked again, "What are you doing in my bed?"

Buttercup wiggled and pushed her hooves against Laura's back, creating a little gap between them in the confines of the sleeping bag. The children's size bag was ample for a single pony but a tight squeeze for two, even if one wasn't fully grown yet. Buttercup was small and a bit skinny, but her gangly legs took up a fair bit of bed space.

She tucked them up against her chest and whispered, "I, uh, sorry… I was cold."

Cold? Laura had the opposite problem! She was far too warm and the cool air felt wonderful against her sweaty forehead. How on earth did Buttercup feel too cold, weren't pegasi supposed to be cold-tolerant so they could fly high up? She seemed to remember reading that in the guide Thomas had left her.

"Fine, you may stay for tonight but in the morning we'll pester Chick to see if he has a spare blanket for you, alright?"

Buttercup's muttered, "N'kay", was not enthusiastic.

Laura could sense that there was something bothering Buttercup but right now she was just too drowsy and too annoyed with her to pursue the matter. She lay her head back down, nuzzled the soft sleeping bag liner into a comfortable shape, closed her eyes, and hoped for a deep, dreamless sleep instead of bizarre dreams.

Buttercup sighed and whispered, "I was lonely, okay?"

"Hmm?"

Lonely? In a tent with two other people?

"I'm used to sharing a bed with my sisters and couldn't get to sleep. Sorry."

Laura lifted her head up again to look at the indistinct lump of filly curled up at her back. "Feeling homesick?"

Buttercup squirmed a bit before finally admitting, "Maybe…"

Laura sighed and shifted her body so that her back was touching Buttercup again. "Well, get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning."

Skinny legs wrapped around Laura's chest and Buttercup nuzzled her ears.

"Thanks. Mmm… you smell nice."

Laura struggled to not shove the overly-affectionate filly away again. Buttercup must be half-asleep and dreaming already to think that her hair smelt of anything but dust and cobwebs.

Laura sighed and closed her eyes.

Chick had better not get any weird ideas if he woke up first and saw them like this.

It was Chick who woke her up, shaking her shoulder through the sleeping bag, but fortunately, there was no lonely filly snuggled up against her.

"Morning, sleepy head. Time to get up."

He left the tent and Laura heard sizzling sounds coming from outside, along with breakfast-smells of eggs, onions, and mushrooms frying in butter. Laura's mouth watered as she crawled out of the sleeping bag, yawned, stretched, and spent a moment looking for her cardigan before remembering its sorry state. Bracing herself to step outside naked, Laura's sleep-matted tail tucked down tightly against her rump. Her grey coat shivered as she stepped out into the clean cool air; the sun hadn't yet risen above the surrounding forest, the grass was wet with dew and a light mist, somewhere in the trees a jay screamed at its neighbours.

Laura's overnight 'guest' stood by the fire with a spatula in her mouth, carefully keeping an eye on whatever she was cooking. Buttercup smiled around the spatula's handle, waved with a wing and mumbled, "G'mr'nin'!"

"Good morning."

Chick set out three mismatched mugs and poured mint tea out of a battered aluminium pot.

Divided three ways, the large mushroom and onion omelette was just enough to satisfy three ponies. Once the dishes were cleaned and the fire extinguished, they broke camp and spent a half-hour reorganising Chick's cargo. They moved everything crammed into the sidecar's footwell into Buttercup's hide-away space on the trailer and lined the somewhat-dirty footwell floor with a tarpaulin. The sleeping bags and Buttercup's pillow collection transformed it into a reasonably-comfortable little nest.

"Dibs on the seat!"

Laura chuckled and said, "Alright, but I would like to switch every hour or so." The relative privacy of the footwell would give her a chance to read the pamphlets Buttercup's mother had given her, and she was a bit bored of watching forest whizz past anyway.

While lying in the footwell, Laura's twitching ears could hear Chick's hooves clambering up onto the bike, shoving various ratcheting leavers, the kick-starter made a grinding sound, and after a few gasping chuffs the engine spluttered into life. Its loud, burbling roar was all that Laura could hear, even with her ears folded flat against her skull. The floor shifted and bounced under her, making her inner ear swim, but once they were on the road and at speed it hardly felt like they were moving at all. Good! She didn't want to get motion-sick, not when she had reading to do.

Buttercup stood up on the seat, stuck her head into the blast of wind and half-spread her yellow wings. With a big grin on her muzzle, she shouted, "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!"

Laura imagined that this was probably the fastest the young mare had ever gone, except perhaps when flying. She'd better keep her wings in or she'd likely be blown right out of the sidecar! Chick shouted something—probably telling Buttercup to sit the hell down—while Laura slipped a hoof under a pillow to search for the pregnancy pamphlet that she'd squirrelled away while lining the 'nest'.

YOUR HEALTHY FOAL.

With a clumsy hoof, she pushed back the cover and saw that the pages were printed sideways, two of the original book's pages per page. Rotating the pamphlet she squinted at the very small letters: "Written by Lilac Melody M.D., Lunar Belle G.Y.N., and Sweet Delivery R.M. Published by the Royal Canterlot Medical Assoc." In smaller text below that was, "Translated by Lonely Day with addl. notes by Warm Hooves OB/GYN." So, as she had suspected, the books were translations of texts brought over from this Equestria place.

She started reading the first page, but it was dry, full of clinical terms and very boring. A medical text rather than the simple guide she'd been hoping for. Laura snorted and hoofed to the last pages to see if there was an index. Yes! P, p, p… Nothing for 'Period'. H, h, h… Nothing for 'Heat' either. What was the medical term? M, m, m…

"Menses", she whispered to herself, reading the word from the index.

It turned out that there was no need to worry about having missed one. Ponies had them once a month for only part of the year; starting in spring and ending in fall. A little knot of worry dissipated as she read the clinical descriptions; it seemed like it would be nowhere near as messy, achy, or inconvenient as it had been when she was a woman. Being turned into a tiny mare had its upsides. Flipping back-and-forth to the index and reading snippets revealed that there were some downsides as well. An eleven to twelve-month long pregnancy for example; she'd already been half-dreading a nine-month-long ordeal. On the other hand… hoof… it seemed like giving birth would be easier, though the accompanying sanitised-of-gore diagram made it clear that C-Sections were a thing in Equestria. Best to give birth in a hospital then, assuming there were any left. They certainly didn't have anything like that at the farm, but they did have plenty of healthy foals.

She'd talked about having children with Thomas. Laura wanted to have at least one daughter, and Thomas had no preferences, aside from wanting to have two—no more and no less. He'd jokingly told her that he wanted to make certain that the population figures remained the same; at least she'd hoped he was joking. Laura sighed and stuffed the pamphlet back under the pillow. She was getting ahead of herself and should be focusing on just finding him again, not worrying about if he'd changed his mind because they'd have to raise little colts and fillies instead of a proper baby.

The engine's constant chugging-rumble suddenly swelled, louder and faster as Chick downshifted. The pillow Laura lay on slid forward in the tarp-lined footwell. Digging her hind hooves in, she crawled on her belly towards the seat where Buttercup sat up, with her hooves braced against the front lip of the sidecar.

Buttercup glanced down as Laura poked her head out of the footwell and answered her unspoken question.

"Fog!"

She scooted over so Laura could get her hooves up on the seat and poke her head out to have a look. Behind them, the road and forest on either side disappeared into swirling grey mist. Turning her head, Laura squinted into the moist wind blast and saw that it was turning into a real pea-souper up ahead. Chick slowed the bike and kicked down another gear while leaning forward over the gas tank to peer at the road.

Laura didn't know much about the weather over here, but a fog this thick in the middle of the morning seemed a bit queer. And smelt a bit queer too. Her nose wrinkled at the sulfurous taint in the cool, damp air. Perhaps there were hot springs nearby?

Buttercup's ears were back and she was looking around with wide eyes. She startled and her wings popped partly open when Laura prodded her gently with a hoof to get her attention.

She was going to ask to switch places since it had been well over an hour, but seeing how spooked the filly was she just asked, "Are you alright?"

"N-no… This-", she waved a hoof at the fog closing in, "-isn't right? The weather feels all wrong for fog." She shivered and tucked her wings back in, twitching them nervously to settle her ruffled feathers.

Feeling unsettled, Laura ducked back inside of the footwell and tried to get comfortable again. At least there was a little less wind noise, though the engine was just as loud, and it was too dark inside the footwell to read now. She sighed, lay all the way down and closed her eyes. With the engine banging away a few inches from her ears she wouldn't be able to nap, but there was nothing else to do.

"Stop!"

Laura's eyes sprang open in time to see a yellow blur as Buttercup leapt out of the sidecar screaming, "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

Chick slammed on the brakes and the pillows slid toward the nose of the sidecar, taking Laura with them even as she struggled to get to her hooves. Her rump slammed into the very nose of the car as the bike slewed left and right while its tires shrieked on the wet road surface. There was a moment of weightlessness and a loud metallic scrape before the bike finally shuddered to a stop. The engine revved painfully loud for a moment before suddenly cutting off.

Laura froze where she was, ears folded flat and eye's wide while her heart pounded in her chest.

From a ways off, Buttercup called, "Chick?! Chick, are you alright?"

A moment later a yellow blur flew past the small slice of grey that Laura could see at the top-end of the sidecar, and Buttercup landed on the motorcycle. Her long blue tail hung down onto the bench seat as Laura heard Chick moan and quietly spit curses in French. The bike shifted again as Buttercup stepped down onto the sidecar, ducked her head inside, and peered at Laura.

"You okay in there?"

She blinked and breathlessly replied, "I-I think so, thank you for asking. What happened?"

Buttercup reached in, extended a helping hoof and said, "We almost drove off a friggin' cliff!"

"What?!"

She waved her hoof impatiently and said, "C'mon. You gotta get outta there."

Laura hooked a hock around Buttercup's and the filly braced herself to haul Laura out from where she'd become wedged into the footwell. After a bit of a struggle with the pillows she got her hooves under herself and scrabbled up the sloped floor, over the seat, and clumsily jumped down onto the damp road. She was stiff-legged but weak and trembling at the same time. It seemed to help if she kept her head down, so she just stood on the gross-feeling tarmac for a few moments, fighting against the shivers that ran down her flanks and legs. She heard Buttercup climb back up onto the bike to help Chick.

"I'm f-fine", he wheezed, "Squashed my damn… ah… Knocked the wind out of me."

"Okaaay. Well, careful gettin' off the bike. It's kinda hanging off a cliff."

"Merde."

Laura glanced to her left and found that the road surface just vanished only a foot away from her hooves! It looked like a concrete bridge segment was missing, leaving a straight edge of metal and rubber gasket with nothing but grey, churning mist where the road should be. She gasped and quickly stumbled away on stiff legs, her clopping hooffalls echoing strangely in the thick fog. She stumbled to the trailer and stopped to catch her breath and gather her wits. There were echoing hoof steps and a groan as Chick climbed down from the motorcycle.

"Is Laura alright?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just real shook up, I think… She's over by the trailer."

Laura's ears twitched as she heard as her travelling companions slowly walked over to the trailer. It sounded like Chick was limping, so Laura shakily picked up her hooves and went to meet them half-way.

They met at the back of the trailer and Chick dropped his baseball bat out of his mouth, catching it with a hoof. He winced and asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded and her tight jaw muscles made her teeth chatter as she replied, "I-I think so. What happened?"

He snorted quietly and glanced between her and Buttercup. "It looks like the bridge collapsed… or somepony blew it up."

Buttercup gasped and asked, "Ambush?" She glanced around, eyes wide and worried.

"Maybe. Hush for a few minutes and listen for anypony, or anything, sneaking up on us."

Chick and Buttercup looked around, ears rotating back and forth like radar dishes to try and catch any suspicious sounds. Laura stood still, with her ears pinned uselessly against her skull. She struggled to make them rise, but was hard pressed not to give in to the animal desire to run! Not that she could manage more than a brisk trot without tangling her legs and falling onto her face. She closed her eyes, sucked in her lower lip, and tried to control her breathing, which had become fast and shallow again. With a mind of their own, her ears quickly flipped up, back down, then up again, twitched and swivelled about. Listening for something sneaking up felt even more terrifying than when they'd been lying flat! A hint of a breeze whispered through the trees on either side of the road and there was a muffled burble of flowing water over where the bridge used to be. The motorcycle's engine tinked as it cooled. But there were no birds chirping, no flying insect whines, nothing moving in the underbrush. No sounds of life aside from Chick's slow, measured breaths, Buttercup's quiet panting, and her own heart throbbing painfully.

Chick's quiet masculine voice seemed shockingly loud. "This is not an ambush, I think."

Laura blinked a few times, let go of her lower lip before her teeth could wear a hole in it, and she slowly let out the breath she'd been holding.

Buttercup quietly asked, "No?"

"No. If it were thieves they should have heard our crash and attacked while we were confused and recovering."

Laura gulped and asked, "What about those sea monsters?"

He shook his head. "I doubt those things would be so far inland. At least I hope not. If it were somepony or something powerful enough to take out the bridge and create this fog, it wouldn't have any trouble with the three of us. But whatever this is, we can't stay here waiting for something to happen." He grabbed his baseball bat in his mouth, wincing as he turned slowly and carefully, with slightly spread hind legs, limped back toward the motorcycle.

Buttercup trailed after him and Laura forced her stiff legs to move so she wouldn't be left behind. Their sharp hoof falls were almost like firecrackers popping in the muffling fog.

Chick put away his bat and crouched low, inspecting the underside of his motorcycle. Its frame rested on the road, the front half well past the edge with the tire slowly spinning in thin air. Laura had no idea how much of a drop it was but they had obviously come very, very close to dying or at least being injured and then likely dying from those injuries. No hospitals, no rescue services, and no way to call for help. Her tail clamped down tight as a cold shudder ran up her spine. Never mind a potential ambush, if they couldn't get moving again they might starve out here in the middle of nowhere!

"Bon! Well, not 'good' but not terrible", Chick muttered and stood up. "The skid plate saved the sump and both rear wheels are on the road, so I might be able to just back her up if I'm very careful."

It was nerve-wracking watching him carefully leaned out onto the hanging front end of the bike to prepare it for starting, the whole thing wobbled on the edge as he kicked through the gears to get it into neutral. The engine started on his first kick at the lever and its grumbling roar throbbed in the moist air. Fearlessly he waved at them to back up and then climbed up onto the precarious seat, leaned over to stomp a couple of leavers between the bike and sidecar, and then slowly cranked the throttle.

The motorcycle and sidecar's tires squealed as they spun against the damp tarmac, even when Buttercup flew over and settled her weight down on the very back of the sidecar. She hung on to the luggage rack and began bouncing up and down, causing the tires to grip and skip, grip and skip. The motorcycle stubbornly refused to move and Laura couldn't think of any way she could help. She kept back out of the way and wished that she still had fingers to cross. After a few minutes of revving, bouncing, and squealing tires, Chick shook his head and killed the engine.

He climbed back down while Buttercup leapt off of the sidecar, swooped out over the river and landed on the road with a clattering of hooves.

Chick loosened and removed his helmet, placing it on the ground near the bike. He grumbled, "There's not enough grip. These dual sport tires probably don't help any." He sighed and waved at the trailer, "I think we need to unhitch the trailer so there's less weight to shift. It will be a pain in the tail, so I hope you can both lend a hoof?"

Buttercup chirped, "Sure! What can I do?"

A longer, frustrated sigh and he shrugged. "I'm not sure… Euhhh… Laura, maybe you can help me haul it once it's unhitched? I can probably do it myself but with two earth ponies it will be much easier and safer."

"Umm… alright."

"Merci, mademoiselle. Okay…" He walked over to the trailer's hitch while Buttercup flew over to the far side of the bike.

Laura wasn't at all sure that she would be able to contribute much in the way of muscle, but hadn't she been wishing there was something she could do only a few moments ago? Tightening her lips in a determined grimace, she hurried after them.

Unhitching seemed overly complex to Laura; just the lever holding the hitch to the ball should have been enough, but there were pins to pull, chains to unhook and an electrical cable to unplug. Chick wrapped his forelegs around the long bar sticking out of the front of the trailer's frame, and with a grunt he stood up on his hind legs, lifting it up and off of the ball. A quick yank sideways and he lowered it to the ground. The motorcycle rose a little on its springs but it didn't suddenly flip off of the end of the bridge as Laura half-feared it might.

"Whew. Alright, I'll get some ropes so we can pull it. Buttercup, can you look around for a couple of stones to use as wheel chocks?" He gestured back the way they had come which was at the bottom of a long slope. "I don't want to risk having it roll away once we pull it up the hill a bit."

"Sir, yes sir!" She saluted with a wing before fluttering off to search beside the road.

Chick unhooked the front edge of the trailer's blue tarp and dug around inside, emerging with a bundle of thick, bright orange mountain climbing rope in his mouth. Laura tagged along as he walked to the back of the trailer which was now a little higher in the air with the angle it was sitting at. He dropped the rope and began uncoiling it with deft moves of his hooves.

"I don't have any proper harnesses so I'll just tie a couple of loops that we can have around our chests. With two of us pulling it shouldn't dig in too much."

Laura nodded and asked, "Can I help? I used to go climbing with Thomas, so I know my way around ropes and knots."

"Oh? Bien, at least one of us will know what they are doing!"

The shared a grin and worked on setting up the makeshift harnesses; threading the rope through the trailer's dirt-encrusted and rusty frame. Laura used timber hitches around the trailer's axle and secured the slack line with a few climbing harness knots to keep the chest loops from squeezing when they pulled. Buttercup returned with a pair of old red bricks by the time everything was ready. Getting into the harnesses involved standing over the loop so it ran beneath their bellies and then lifting the end and draping it around the necks like a necklace. Far from ideal but Chick assured her that it would be enough for a short pull.

"We'll pull it a few metres, just straight ahead." He held up a hoof and said, "It will help if you use the magic I taught you for holding onto a mug. Just grab onto the road, okay?"

"I will try."

Laura frowned and gingerly reached out and got a firm grip on the tarmac, despite how nasty it felt against her hooves. It was a bit like trying to press her fingertips against a swarm of angry hornets. Her skin twitched and her ears flicked back, but she held on and the ugly sensation seemed to fade as she got used to it.

Chick said, "Alright, on one, two, three!"

Laura pressed forward and felt the loop of rope cinch down against the base of her neck. And then her rear hooves slipped out from beneath her! That her front hooves were still stuck to the road was probably the only thing that kept her from falling over.

Chick slapped a hoof against her shoulder and she felt a strange pulling sensation on her skin, almost like a suction cup, as he steadied her.

"What was that?" he said, blinking in surprise. "Oh, excusez-moi. I forgot that you don't already know some things. You can grip with your rear hooves as well and as we pull it along you will need to relax your grip each time you want to lift a hoof. The timing can be a bit tricky until you are used to it." Once she was standing stable again he dropped his helping hoof and said, "Or I can do it by myself."

"N-no, let me try again", Laura gasped and then shook her head.

Buttercup hovered past, clutching the two bricks to her chest.

Laura closed her eyes and focused on her rear hooves, finding it more difficult to reach out and feel the road surface. Touching with fingers was a natural thing to do when she was still human, but with a toe? It felt very queer. After a short struggle, she tried sliding her right hoof against the road, trying to feel the surface with the curious magic touch. There was still that faint, almost burning sensation from standing on tarmac but no… Ah! There it was! She could feel it in her left hoof now as well.

Gripping onto the road with all four hooves she pushed forward against the rope and felt Chick shift forwards as well. There was a quiet 'clop' sound as he took a step. Okay… let go with the right, rear hoof and step forward…

"Crap!"

Laura had grown used to falling into the standard walking gait and had tried lifting her right, front hoof at the correct time but hadn't unstuck it first.

Chick's deep warm voice assured her, "It's okay. Just one hoof at a time is fine, there's no rush."

She snorted and focused on moving the next leg: release, step forward, grab on. The next leg: release, step forward, grab on. The next. The next. Step after step they slowly dragged the trailer forward while its metal hitch bar scraped along the road. She hardly felt the rope pulling tight over her shoulders. It was actually somewhat reminiscent of climbing, with the trailer's weight in place of fighting gravity. Always keeping three limbs on the cliff, reaching forward for the next hold and gripping tightly before moving to the next hold. It wasn't so bad once she thought about it that way. Smiling, she ducked her head low and really started putting her back into it!

"Ok, this is far enough."

But she was just as she was getting into it! Puffing slightly she looked over her shoulder to see how far they'd come; only about five metres. They should have kept going! She could have kept going anyway. Poo.

Buttercup hovered beside the trailer, eyes half closed and a silly smile on her slim, yellow muzzle.

"Buttercup?"

She blinked and looked at Chick. "Huh?"

"Bricks, please."

"R-right! Yes sir, Sir!"

She landed, dropped a brick, kicked it in place behind one of the wheels, then swooped over to the other side and chocked the other one. With the trailer secured they could relax and slip out of the makeshift harnesses.

"Good work, Laura, thank you." Chick smiled, nodded to her and then trotted back towards the motorcycle.

"You're welcome", Laura called after him and sat up to roll her shoulders to loosen them up. Pulling the trailer hadn't been a strain but she felt tense from having to focus so hard on controlling her hooves.

The motorcycle was running again by the time she trotted over to join Buttercup who stood to one side while Chick settled into the saddle yet again. Buttercup fluttered up and landed in her spot on the back of the sidecar. Chick slowly revved the engine higher and for a moment the tires caught, then squealed as they spun. Laura nervously sucked on her lip as both of them began bouncing, quickly getting in sync so that all of their weight compressed the shocks at the same time, forcing the skipping tires against the road. The big bike jerked and skipped away from the drop until the front wheel touched the edge and Chick had to gun the engine to get it up and over the broken lip of the bridge.

He slowly backed the motorcycle up while Laura walked alongside. Chick scowled as he twisted the handlebars left and right. He killed the engine after backing up to the trailer. The reason for his scowl was obvious to Laura; the front tyre was completely flat.

Laura's heart sank but surprisingly Chick just prodded the limp tyre with a hoof, shook his head and chuckled.

"Gonna swap it for the spare?" asked Buttercup as she poked the flat with a hoof.

"If it's a simple puncture I can fix it on the bike", he said. "Hmmm… while I'm doing that, can you scout for somewhere else we can cross?"

Buttercup grinned and spread her wings. "I can do that!"

"Non, wait! There's small point in flying blind."

A few minutes later Chick had retrieved a map from one of the motorcycle's side cases and spread it on the road. Laura and Buttercup gathered around to peer at it as he slid a hoof along one of the motorways which had the odd name of 'The Airline'.

"We're right here", he said, tapping a town called Amherst. "If you go back up the road a ways there's an intersection. Turn left onto-", he squinted at the map, "-Tannery Loop. Heh. It crosses the river north of here and will then bring us back to the highway."

"Got it!" Buttercup chirped, crouched and spread her wings, "I'll be back in a few-"

"Wait!"

She rolled her eyes but obediently tucked her wings back to her sides.

"There's no rush and I don't think it's safe for you to fly in this fog. I'd also like you to follow the road, make sure it's safe to ride, and there are too many things you might crash into while flying so low." Buttercup looked a bit offended but he pressed on, "Plus, I'd like Laura to go with you."

"Awww…"

"Whatever for?" Laura felt a mix of apprehension that Chick wanted her to go into the dark woods, and annoyance that Buttercup didn't want her company.

He glanced between them and said, "Look, it seems safe right here but we don't know what is out there. It's possible this bridge just washed out, but if somepony or something did this…" He gestured towards where the bridge had been. "If trouble finds you, two ponies will have a better chance of dealing with it, or at least one of you can come and get me. Oh, and-", he reached into one of his jacket pockets and pulled out a plastic whistle on a lanyard, "-take this." He held it out to Buttercup and said, "Blow it if you need me."

Buttercup nodded, took it with her wing tips and draped it around her neck. She glanced at Laura and asked, "This work for you?"

She must have noticed how uncertain Laura felt about this plan. Why not just stay together until the tyre was repaired then they could all go and see this other bridge? Then again, Chick was anxious to both leave this possible trap and try to keep to his schedule. And Buttercup had to get to Beantown on time. It was possible Chick just wanted her to go along to keep an eye on Buttercup and keep the impulsive filly from feuding with the local racoons.

Laura sighed and nodded, "It sounds like a reasonable plan to me. Come on then. Soonest begun, soonest done."

"Merci", Chick said with a warm smile. "I think it will take about an hour to fix the bike, so if you're not back by then-"

Buttercup barked, "You'll leave without us!" and started laughing.

He rolled his eyes. "I'll come and find you. Now, get going, sweetheart."

She stuck her tongue out at him and trotted off. "Don't worry, Laura. I can totally whip any wolves or badgers or whatever we might run into."

That… did not make Laura feel any less anxious.

Reluctantly, she went anyway, quickly catching up to Buttercup before the filly could vanish into the pea-soup fog. A loud creak from the bike made both of them glance back. Chick had opened a boot hatch on the rear of the sidecar, previously hidden beneath the spare tire and small rack of tied-on packages. He hopped up, shoving most of his body into the boot, kicking his hind legs in the air as he rummaged through the contents.

Buttercup slowed and stopped, making Laura pause a well. The pink stallion's tail whipped around and his muscular hind legs kicked, exposing things that Laura really did not need to see. Wrinkling her muzzle she turned away and said, "Come along, let's get this over with."

"Awww…" Buttercup playfully pouted, but after one last glance she caught up and trotted along at Laura's side, a silly smirk on her muzzle.

They'd only been trotted along quietly for a few minutes when Buttercup pranced and said, "Hey! Wanna race there and back?"

"What? No! No, we don't need to rush and… well, this is already as fast as I can go."

Buttercup gasped. "You don't know how to gallop?"

Laura snorted and felt her ears heat up with a blush. "I only learnt how to trot two weeks ago."

"Oooh, right. You ain't been back all that long." Buttercup nodded and after a moment she said, "I could teach you if you want. I taught my kid sisters how and Mama was sooo annoyed. Not like they weren't gonna figure it out on their own anyway."

Laura smiled at the image of Mama Bun chasing after little fillies tearing around inside of her lovely home. No doubt leaving little, muddy hoofprints everywhere. "Perhaps later? Thank you for offering."

"No problem. You'd win anyway if you could gallop."

Laura shook her head and said, "I very much doubt it. I've never excelled in field sports. Though I was quite good at rock climbing, back when I still had hands." She sighed wistfully.

"Well, you're an earth pony now and you guys are spooky fast on your hooves and you got tons of stamina! You could whip past any unicorn or pegasi… any grounded one anyway." She fluffed her wings and snorted in irritation.

That was certainly food for thought. Just being able to sprint away from danger, for example, gigantic racoons, made learning to gallop a critical skill. It might prove to be fun too! When Laura had taken riding classes they had mostly ridden at walks or trots, with a little jumping over beginner's hedges, but one time her pony had been spooked and took off across the field. They hadn't gone far and she'd fallen off when the stupid nag had baulked at the tall boundary fence. It had taken weeks for the bruises to heal and mother had taken her out of class after that. But those few minutes of flat-out gallop while Laura had clung on had been exhilarating!

Her hindquarters suddenly twitched and her legs bounced and tried to push her forward faster than her front legs were ready for. She stumbled but caught herself before falling flat on her muzzle.

Buttercup snickered and said, "Looks like your body's eager to gallop even if you don't know how."

Laura bit her lip and nodded, then focused on matching Buttercup's trot as they made their way up the gentle slope. There wasn't much to see other than bushes next to the road and a few driveways. As they left the river behind it became even more stiflingly quiet. Just their hooves clopping on the road and sometimes a little metallic noise carried from where Chick was working on the motorcycle. They trotted up a long slope, over the crest and found a crossroads a little ways down the other side.

"Is this it?"

Buttercup craned her head around and hesitantly replied, "I… dunno. You see a sign anywhere?"

"No, but it's difficult to see anything in this." Laura shrugged and started walking down what was hopefully the right route. From what she remembered of the map, there was only one four-way intersection in this little town. The lane was much narrower than the motorway, so the trees, bushes, and grass hung much closer, fading in from the thick fog and disappearing behind them. It almost felt like walking down a long, overgrown Tube tunnel.

Buttercup started to whistle quietly and it sounded strangely muffled and echoing.

A shiver ran up Laura's back and she asked, "Could you please not do that?"

"Sorry. It's too quiet and it's kinda freaking me out."

The silence was oppressive. Even their hoof falls were muffled by layers of leaves and grass that carpeted the road surface, slowly turning the itchy tarmac into forest floor. The loudest sounds were their own damp breaths.

"We could talk. Umm… Did you have any more questions about what the world was like?"

Buttercup made a popping noise with her lips and said, "Ok, well I read that people all moved away from their farms to go live in cities."

"Mmmhmm, that is mostly true. I was born in a fairly rural area of England—more-or-less between Swindon and Oxford. But I moved to London, which is the largest city in the country. Was the largest city, I suppose, and one of the most polluted."

"Because of all of the cars, right?"

As luck would have it, they were trotting past a driveway with an absolutely massive pick-up truck parked near the lane. Laura sighed and shook her head. "Yes, there were a lot of cars and lorries in the city. Though they were only partly to blame."

Buttercup's ears twitched and she asked, "What's a 'lawree'?"

"I believe they're called 'trucks' over here."

She snorted and lightly shook her head. "Oh, yeah. They certainly fart out a lot of stinking smoke. You can smell a convoy coming from miles away whenever they stop by the farm to trade for our surplus. So, why would you wanna live like that? All crowded together and breathing crap?"

"I'm not really sure…" Laura sighed and said, "Most people did it for employment, I suppose. And culture. I moved to London for the art galleries, the theatre, the historic ambience. My parents would rather I'd gone to college or university, but I wanted to be out in the world, rather than learning from dry books and lectures."

Buttercup's quietly murmured, "Huh. Me too."

A few minutes of quiet trotting later, Laura's ears twitched to the sound of a river burbling just ahead.

Buttercup hissed and muttered, "Damn."

"What is it?" Laura's ears anxiously flicked around, trying to pick up on any unusual sounds.

"This one's out too."

Looking ahead, all Laura could see was two or three metres of road before the fog closed in completely. "I… can't see anything."

"It's a pegasus thing. I can kinda feel-", Buttercup extended a wing and wiggled the primaries in a vague circle, "-how the fog is moving and it's flowing through a gap up there where the road should be."

A few moments later they arrived at the river's edge. Unlike the first bridge, this one had a short drop to the river and had not been made of segments. The leaf matted tarmac ended with a ragged edge, like a sheet of paper that had been crudely ripped. A metre below their hooves, the earth and stone bank had been churned into a broken, mucky bog. Laura couldn't see the other side, but the river rushed past only a short distance from the bank. There didn't seem to be a way down, and the river looked far too deep and fast to even think about driving the motorcycle and cart into.

"Well, that's lousy." Buttercup snorted and punted a fragment of tarmac into the river.

"What do you think did this? Perhaps a flood?"

"I dunno, don't your earth pony senses tell you anything?"

"Earth pony senses?"

Focusing on her hooves, Laura didn't feel anything at all. Not even the usual grotesque sensation of standing on tarmac, though that was no surprise since it was mostly covered with a thick layer of rotting vegetation.

"Didn't Chick tell you about those? Well, my papa can, like, dig his hooves into the dirt and tell what'll grow well in it or what he has to do to make it healthy. Or he can feel up some corn or tree and it'll tell him if it's healthy or what's making it sick." She grinned and boasted, "He can even make it grow faster and go into bloom out of season!"

"I don't-"

"Sure you can! Come on." Buttercup waved a hoof and trotted toward the side of the road with Laura trailing behind her.

The filly pointed at a thick-trunked deciduous tree growing on the bank that was leaning badly with half of its roots ripped up out of the ground. "Just rub your hooves on its bark and maybe it'll tell you what happened to it."

"I c-can see what happened to it!" Laura pointed a shaking hoof at three widely spaced but parallel tears running across the bark. It looked like a gigantic cat had slashed the tree, uprooting it in the process.

Buttercup's yellow wings popped half-open as she crouched and gazed up at the monstrous wound on the tree. After a moment she quietly murmured, "We should get out of here."

"Yes", Laura squeaked through a tight throat.

They turned tail and fled! The quiet thumps of their hooves on the compost layered road goaded Laura into the fastest trot she could manage, as she imagined some great beast falling on them! The uneven blanket of leaves, fallen branches and random patches of grass made her stumble frequently. Buttercup's warm, feathery side pressing up against hers didn't help her balance either, but it was comforting in an odd way. Their flight back to the intersection passed in a frantic blur and Buttercup stumbled to a halt and stood for a while with her head down, wings extended, panting and sweating. Though Laura was breathing deeply she had barely worked up a sweat and her legs twitched with the need to run back to Chick and safety. Hopefully, the motorcycle was actually a safe place! At the very least it would be the swiftest way to flee if Chick had finished repairing it. She nervously pranced and jiggled in place, pulping the mat of damp leaves under her hooves.

"Ha! Aheh heh…" Buttercup grinned at her while breathing heavily through her nose.

She cocked an eyebrow at Buttercup and asked, "What?"

Buttercup waved a hoof and panted, "You're n-not even breathing h-hard. See! I told you e-earth ponies were built f-for this. Whew!"

Still panting, she walked across the motorway and Laura followed, wincing at the loud clatter of their hooves on the bare tarmac. After cresting the hill, Laura's ears twitched as she heard a repeating hiss and mechanical creaking ahead of them. She glanced at Buttercup who just shrugged mid-trot and said, "S'probably just Chick."

They followed the grassy edge of the road, to muffle their hoofsteps, cautiously trotting towards the noise. Laura spotted the lumpy silhouette of the loaded trailer looming through the fog and a few minutes later they found Chick by the motorcycle's front-end, crouching over a foot pump and working its pedal with both forehooves. He stopped as they trotted up.

"Welcome back." He glanced back and forth between them, frowned and asked, "What's wrong?"

Buttercup tried to catch her breath, with her wings hanging half open and drooping. Laura grimaced and delivered the bad news. "The other bridge is also gone. It looks like something…", she shivered and her voice quavered, "Something very large took it."

"Something took it? You saw it?"

"No, thank God. But the bridge was completely gone and there were claw marks on a tree."

Buttercup panted, "Huuuge c-claw marks", and held up her forehooves, spread to roughly the width of the marks they had seen on the tree.

His mouth fell open in disbelief and he muttered, "Sacrament! I don't believe it!"

"What? Do you know what it is?"

Chick grimaced and said, "I don't know for certain… But, it might be a dragon. That's the only creature so large that I can think of."

"Coool!" Buttercup breathed, blinking her huge eyes and grinning.

Laura didn't feel any of the filly's awe. Sure, the guide Thomas had left had mentioned people returning as dragons, but really…? Dragons? She'd seen the missing bridge, the claw marks, and the fog did smell a little of brimstone. Whatever it was, dragon or something else, it made her skin crawl. It was out there, somewhere, perhaps watching them right now!

Chick seemed to feel the same way judging by his nervously twitching ears. He turned back to the tyre pump and said, "I'm almost finished here. Go have a drink; the water bottle is in my saddlebags on the trailer."

Water sounded like a great idea, after that frantic trot back. Once Buttercup had a few swallows, Laura almost finished the rattling metal bottle off. When she offered it to Chick as he loaded the air pump into the trailer he just shook his head, "Finish it."

It took several tries to kick-start the motorcycle's cooled engine, which played merry hell with Laura's frayed nerves. Chick backed the rumbling machine up while Buttercup and Laura held up the trailer's tongue and dropped it down over the ball hitch. He hooked up the chains and electrics, then gave the trailer one last inspection before waving for them to mount up. Cranking the handlebars hard-left he performed a U-turn and they slowly rode through the thick fog, heading back the way they had come.

Buttercup asked, "Where'r we headed?"

"South!" Chick called over the engine's puttering rumble, "There's another bridge. If that's out… Well… We'll find a way, don't worry."

Laura tugged and pushed one of the pillows in the sidecar into a comfortable position, draping her forelegs over it and laying her head down. She could have insisted on switching places with Buttercup, but she felt emotionally drained and a short lie-down gave her the chance to relax her tense muscles. Besides, in this fog, relying on Buttercup's pegasus senses might be the only thing keeping them from another disastrous crash. She felt the motorcycle ride over the top of the slope and then slow, before turning right at the intersection where she and Buttercup had turned left. By the unsettled bouncing and wobble of the suspension, it felt like they were riding over drifts of leaves and dirt. They were on a small B road again.

After a quarter of an hour, they slowed and came to a halt.

Laura crawled up out of the footwell as Buttercup jumped out in a flutter of feathers. Chick sighed heavily as he took off his helmet and set it atop the gas tank. The fog was not as thick here and Laura could see for a few metres when she looked over her shoulder and through the windscreen, she saw what had made Chick sigh.

There was no bridge.

Chick scrambled down from the motorcycle and a few minutes later Laura joined him and Buttercup at the edge of the river, and the now familiar sight of where the road had been torn away. The span of bridge was completely gone and she imagined Smaug from the Hobbit movies, swooping down to snatch it up and fly away with it. She could just make out a row of concrete piers, still standing in the middle of the river. Chick sighed again and rubbed a hoof over his head, pulling a few strands loose from his ponytail. She was a little surprised that he wasn't cursing in French.

"Well, this sucks", said Buttercup, "What'r we gonna do now?"

Chick snorted quietly and ambled over to the side of the road. He stood up, bracing his forehooves on the rusty crash-guard railing and peered over it, looking down at the river bank. He shook his head and then trotted over to the right side of the road. After peering through the fog for a moment he barked a laugh.

He turned and waved them over. "Look, there's an animal trail going into the river down there. If deer cross here then we probably can as well."

Laura stood up next to him and looked down a two or three-metre slope which was covered in brush and small trees. She spied a narrow trail which led from the forest up to the river's edge.

Chick asked, "Buttercup, can you fly over and see if there's a trail on the other side?"

She nodded and jumped off the edge of the road, swooped low over the river and vanished into the swirling fog.

Chick frowned as he watched Buttercup's yellow rump disappear into the fog. Hopefully, the giddy little filly wouldn't find anything to get into trouble over.

He yanked the tie out of his ponytail and spent a few minutes combing the loose hairs back into place before tying it off. His ears twitched as Laura let out a shaky sigh.

He pasted on a reassuring smile and said, "Try not to worry. We'll get over this river, just not with our hooves dry."

She nodded, her eyes still downcast as she did that stiff-upper-lip thing that the British are famous for. His reassuring smile turned into a genuine one as a warm feeling spread in his chest; it felt nice that he could set her mind at ease, though truthfully it was going to take hard work and luck to get out of this — and good luck seemed scarce today.

"What if that dragon finds us?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"Well… I don't think you need worry about that." He walked over to the Ural and stepped on the motorcycle's kick-starting lever. He rammed it down, causing the engine to cough into life. "We're not exactly quiet! I figure, either they're not nearby or they don't care about us little ponies riding through their territory." He didn't add that it might not be a dragon, as that could just increase the poor mare's nervousness.

"Wouldn't they have once been human? I would think that they might have some care towards their once fellow people."

He gestured to where the bridge used to be and couldn't keep a little bitterness out of his voice. "It looks like their priorities have changed if they tear up bridges for laughs."

Buttercup shot out of the fog and landed with a strong backwash from her wings. She tucked them against her barrel and announced, "Yep! There's a trail on the other side, kinda goes up a gravel ramp and into a clearing next to the road. It's kinda overgrown with grass but I think it used to be a parking lot or something."

"Maybe it was a boat ramp?" Chick nodded and gestured at the sidecar, "Well, hop aboard ladies and we'll find a way down to the river."

There was a gap in the trees a few metres down the road, thickly overgrown with grass and weeds, but only saplings had taken route in what had once been a dirt road to the river's edge. The Ural struggled a bit, but in first gear with two-wheel drive engaged, it bulled on through. Chick grimaced as he killed the engine and climbed down from the saddle; there would be a metric shit-tonne of grass to dig out of the bike's drivetrain.

"Aww! Why'd you stop?" whined Buttercup, bouncing a little on the cushioned seat in the sidecar and making the shocks squeak.

"I need to walk across first."

Chick unbuckled his helmet with a well-practised tug and set it on the motorcycle's gas tank. "Once I know the best route, I have to do some work on the bike to make it more waterproof." He shrugged out of his leather jacket and threw it over the motorcycle's saddle. Buttercup and Laura's expressions fell as he continued listing the work ahead of them, "Then we unhitch the cart and I'll ride across. We'll have to unload everything from the cart, taking it over a bit at a time, then haul the cart over, reload it, de-waterproof the bike, and then hitch up the trailer."

"Whaaat?!" cried Buttercup. "That'll take forever!"

Chick chuckled and said, "There is no rush. We'll be camping here tonight."

"But the dragon-", started Laura but Chick cut off her worried question.

"Is ignoring us or not here. I'm more worried about losing the cargo or breaking the bike. Or one of us getting hurt. I'm eager to catch up with the convoy and get to Beantown, but it's just not worth the risk." He stepped into the river, grimacing at the fetid squelch as his hoof sank up to the hock in muck. "I'll be back in a bit. Buttercup, can you fly along with me in case something happens? Laura… just stay here and keep an eye on things, okay?"

The pretty mare made an annoyed face as she waved a mosquito away from her ears, but nodded.

The water was cold and he winced as it washed around his belly, then up his sides as he slowly walked towards the middle of the river, carefully placing his hooves amongst the round rocks in its bed. The chill actually felt rather nice on his bruised groin, but fortunately, the water didn't rise high enough that it forced him to swim. He had to angle himself upstream to keep on a straight course to the other side, but the water was shallow enough that it shouldn't be a problem for the Ural. It was cranky and wore out its parts twice as fast as any other bike Chick had owned, but it was designed to deal with Russia's wilderness. This shouldn't be a problem. Knock on wood.

"You're almost there!" called Buttercup from where she hovered nearby.

Panting and dripping water and muck, Chick walked up the gravel ramp she had found. Buttercup landed in a well-trod gap in the grass that lined the river bank.

"I guess this is where the deer come through?" she asked.

Chick sniffed the air and could just make out a musky odour mixed into the clean scents of the forest and river. He nodded and said, "Yes. Mmm… we'd better check each other for ticks when we make camp."

"Ticks!?"

Buttercup leapt off of the bank and shot up into the air.

He couldn't help chuckling at her, before turning to make the wet slog back to the other bank. While their pony bodies seemed immune to things like Lyme's disease, it was still pretty annoying to have bugs feeding on you. He hoped that Laura wouldn't freak out too much about having to groom one another; at least that was one good thing about Buttercup stowing away. A stallion and mare grooming one another was a bit too intimate for his own comfort, let alone the nervous mare's. Though it was encouraging that she'd moved on from constantly wearing that filthy sweater.

Chick's eyebrows rose as he tromped through the muddy shallows and found Laura sitting on her haunches in the river.

"Euh… What are you doing?"

She grimaced and clumsily raised a sopping wet mass out of the water. "Trying to get this bloody thing clean."

If his hooves weren't covered in mud, Chick would have slapped himself in the side of the head with one of them. Instead, he chuckled at her annoyed expression and said, "Well, leave it for now, I need your help to get ready for the crossing."

"Do you have a towel?" she asked, following him out of the water with the dripping bundle of knitted fabric tucked up against her chest with one hoof.

"There's no point in getting dry yet, I need somepony to ride in the sidecar when I cross, and you'll have to haul the cart over with me if you don't mind. Here, let me help you with that." Chick sat next to the sidecar and held out his hooves.

Laura reluctantly handed him her sweater and he temporarily spread it out on the hood of the sidecar. It drizzled water onto the flattened grass and looked utterly ruined, but perhaps a little less dirty.

Getting the trailer unhitched required all three of them; lifting the tongue and shoving to get its wheels to turn a little on the soggy ground. He asked Laura and Buttercup to begin unloading while he scrambled into the sidecar's trunk for the things he needed to waterproof the bike. He temporarily plugged breather holes on the transmission and the transfer-box for the sidecar's wheel, then taped a home-made snorkle around the intake. Hopping into the sidecar he gathered the pillows and sleeping bags, bundling them up so they could be carried over separately and not get soaked during the crossing.

"Heh! Merci, Mama Bun", he chuckled when he found several pamphlets and a familiar novel with a pair of alicorn princesses on the cover. He carefully tucked them into Laura's sleeping bag before rolling it up. He walked to the back of the cart and set the bags and pillows down next to the growing pile of his trade goods.

Laura and Buttercup were wrestling with one of the sealed plastic boxes on the cart when he interrupted them.

"Ladies, I am ready to take the bike over."

Buttercup dropped her end of the box with a thump and asked, "Can I come?"

"Yes, please. I need one of you to help balance the bike. Laura, can you stay here and keep an eye on everything?" He was a little relieved that Buttercup had volunteered, as he felt a little guilty about always asking Laura to just cool her hocks. She was still learning how to be a pony and thus the most vulnerable of their little group. He doubted she even knew how to swim as a pony! At least Buttercup could fly away if something went terribly wrong.

Laura gently set her side of the heavy box down and said, "Alright, shall I start setting up the rope harnesses again?"

"That is a great idea! Yes, please. Tie them to the back of the cart like last time. We'll have to turn it around before taking it over."

Chick worried about how she would handle hauling the cart through the river, but there was no denying he would need her help. Using hoof-grip wouldn't work very well on the river's silt-and-stone bed, but having two ponies anchoring the cart would make it safer—so long as they took their time and nopony panicked.

He transferred Laura's damp sweater and his jacket to the cargo pile and then kick started the Ural. The helmet went back on his head while Buttercup got settled into the sidecar.

"Be careful", Laura told them before backing away from the rumbling motorcycle.

"No! Go fast!" Buttercup grinned and bounced eagerly, causing the bike's shocks to squeak.

He returned the eager filly's grin as he climbed up into the saddle. "I shall do both!" He kicked the bike into first gear, revved the engine and eased up on the clutch lever. This wasn't his first river crossing, but they were always a bit hairy.

The engine's roar became a wet gurgle as the motorcycle dove into the water, throwing up a brown spray as the wheels churned up the water and mud. The sidecar started to float up, tipping the bike, until Buttercup leaned out to help force it down. Chick leaned over too and carefully aimed the handlebars so that the big bike was at an angle as the river's current tried to drag it off course. Water surged up around Chick's hind legs and splashed against his face and chest, while it mostly ran straight off of Buttercup's waterproof hide and wings. She had them spread wide for balance as the bike bucked and surged beneath them.

"Holy shit! Look!" Buttercup yelled over the roar of the water.

Risking a glance in the direction of her pointing hoof, Chick saw something crouching atop the concrete support pillars in the middle of the river. Something dark red, about the size of a hatchback, with a long skinny neck and bat-like wings.

"Merde!"

His already racing heart surged with fear!

They were easy targets if that bastard dragon came at them now!

Ramming a hoof down on the throttle lever he grimaced as the bike bucked under them, almost throwing Buttercup out of the sidecar. Agonisingly long minutes later, the gamble paid off as the tires found purchase on the gravel ramp and they shot up out of the river and bumped up onto the grassy bank.

That's when he heard Laura's terrified scream.

Chick kicked the motorcycle into neutral and leapt out of the saddle before it had stopped moving. He slipped and stumbled on the mashed flat grass, almost falling on his muzzle, and dashed into the river as Laura screamed again.

"Laura!" he roared before skidding to a startled halt in the shallows.

Emerging from the fog, the dragon's wings whoomped as they stroked down. Its claws clutched hold of the cart's rails and loops of rope dangled down from it and into the river. Laura's heartrending screams were coming from the cart!

A furious yellow blur shot past Chick and slammed into the huge lizard's horned head.

"Drop it, fucker!"

The dragon's wings hesitated as it shook its head and let out a deep, throaty groan.

Chick yelled, "Buttercup! No! Get away from it!"

"What?!"

"Get down here!" he thundered.

Buttercup zipped away from the labouring beast and hovered over the water near Chick. "What the buck? You want it to get away?!"

He snorted and shook his head, "Non, I don't want it dropping the cart and Laura into the river! Just follow it for now."

Buttercup nodded and shot after the slow moving dragon, who seemed to be barely large enough to carry the cart. Chick couldn't imagine it making off with the sections of bridge that were missing. So there must be another one somewhere nearby or several of them!

He turned and galloped up the river bank and followed the deer path, as the dragon flew in that direction with Buttercup darting after it.

Author's Note

I Pinkie Promised myself I'd stop working on my other stories and get this chapter written and published this weekend.

I did it! :pinkiegasp:

Please PM me if you spot any errors. Merci. :twilightsmile:

Now with a hoofful of edits courtesy of Cross Lament.

Now with even more edits courtesy of Dances With Unicorns. :twilightsmile:

7 - Dragon!

Laura's breath caught as the motorcycle plunged into the river and the frothing current tipped it over!

A frantic cry died in her throat as Buttercup and Chick quickly got the machine under control, more-or-less. Mist closed in around them, muting the splash of water, their shouts, and the gurgle of the bike's submerged exhaust.

Letting her breath go in a long sigh, Laura turned away on trembling hooves and walked back to the cart. Her ears twitched to snatches of yells between Chick and Buttercup, but she forced herself to focus on something else. Just standing around worrying about her friends wouldn't help them, and besides, they didn't sound frantic or despairing, just business-like. Getting their job done. She could be business-like as well; there was work that needed to be done on this side of the river, after all.

The trailer's tailgate was down, making it easy for her to place her front hooves inside, crouch a little, and briskly hop inside. It was half empty and she'd need Chick and Buttercup's help to shift the remaining cargo, but she was just after the collection of ropes wedged between two crates. Grasping a coiled pink rope between her hooves, she tried to tug it out.

Her ears twitched.

She heard an odd flapping sound, like someone shaking dust off of a picnic blanket. Overhead.

She glanced up.

The silhouette of a huge, bat-winged shape loomed out of the fog!

Every muscle in Laura's body clenched and she could only stare in horror as the beast dropped, reaching for her with sharp claws!

One of its leathery wings clipped her shoulder and sent her sprawling against the cart's side. Metal creaked as a spidery hand with cyan scales grasped the cart's rail next to her head. The trailer lurched, jerked up suddenly, banging her chin against the floor. Dazed, Laura slid towards the open tailgate as the cart tipped sharply and the remaining plastic tubs, crates, and assorted gear skidding towards her on the slick floor.

Desperately scrabbling her hooves, somehow she managed to cling to the trailer and a scream ripped from her throat as the cargo tumbled towards her. The trailer shifted and levelled a moment before it could crash into her.

Laura's hindquarters dangled over air and she bicycled her legs to try and find something to jam her hooves into. She gulped smoky, sulfurous, air. Her belly heaved with sudden nausea. The scaled belly of the monster swayed and humped just overhead as its powerful wings pumped, hauling them higher. She screamed again and her throat hurt like fire while her head swam. She caught a yellow blur out of the corner of her eye. Buttercup! There was a hollow sounding crack and the dragon let out a pained groan. Laura heard snatches of Chick's voice, shouting her name over the rush of wind battering her ears. A moment later the plucky filly was gone, taking Laura's faint hope of rescue with her.

"Heeeelp!" she screamed, closing her eyes and hunching down against the cart's floor as she felt her hooves losing their grip.

"Noooooo!"

Desperately wishing she still had toes, she flailed her hooves against the tailgate. Her chest scraped on the edge of the cart as her forehooves slipped on the trailer's floor!

Rusty metal punched her in the face and her teeth clacked together with a sharp pain, grazing her tongue. She tumbled out of the trailer, landed on her rump, tipped over backwards, and smacked her head against the ground!

Laura moaned and curled up on her side, pressing her hooves against her head as it painfully throbbed in sync with her racing heart. With her ears folded flat, she barely heard Buttercup's high-pitched yells, though she certainly felt the dragon's deep guttural roars in her chest. She panted through a raw throat and saw a flash of hot-pink against the tall grass as Chick charged into the clearing.

He skidded to a halt next to her, dripping water from his soaked hide and tail. Chick steadied her as she tried to sit up, sending a shiver down her back as cold water splashed from his fetlock.

He looked her over and urgently asked, "Are you alright?"

Despite the terror, shock, and pain, Laura flushed with embarrassment as he inspected her naked body. She pulled her hind legs up and tried to tuck her tail around herself, but it was pinned to the grass beneath her backside.

"Laura!" his hoof slid to her chin and tipped her head up so that their eyes met. "Are you alright?"

"I'm…" The concern in his ruby eyes made her flush even hotter as she wheezed, "I'm f-fine." She was actually far from it, but she managed a wincing smile and his tense expression relaxed.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Buttercup howled from the other side of the trailer.

"Bring it, bitch!" a growling bass voice shouted back.

Chick winced and told Laura, "Stay out of sight."

She nodded but he'd already leapt back into a gallop, his dark-pink hooves sliding on the flattened grass.

Chick wished he more time to reassure Laura, but she seemed more shaken than hurt and Buttercup couldn't deal with the dragon on her own.

He cursed himself for forgetting the baseball bat as he circled around the cart.

"About time!" Buttercup called as she darted past on blurred wings.

She buzzed around the dragon's head like an annoying gnat but couldn't get close enough to repeat her earlier attack over the river. The dragon stood its ground, quickly twisted its sinuous neck to keep a fanged maw aimed and ready to snap her out of the air. A steady stream of black smoke puffed from the blue-scaled lizard's nostrils.

Buttercup yelled, "Come on! Let's get him!"

Chick slowed his headlong gallop as the dragon's fiery gaze locked onto him.

It was skinny, but easily three or four times Chick's mass with a wingspan that dwarfed Buttercup's. One of those handguns in a pony-wearable harness would have been extremely useful right now! He gritted his teeth and charged ahead, hoping to get close enough to grapple or buck with his powerful earth pony legs before the dragon started breathing fire all over the God damn place!

"Woah! Woah!" the dragon yelped and hopped back, holding up the palm of a scimitar-clawed hand in Chick's direction. It grunted as Buttercup took advantage of the distraction to land a solid hoof-strike across its smoking muzzle. Despite being a solid hit, it didn't seem to do much more than annoy it.

Chick changed from a direct charge into the dragon's claws, to circle to the right while Buttercup buzzed away in the other direction. Perhaps if they both kept on the move they could avoid the dragon's breath, closing for quick strikes and maybe-

"I'M FUCKIN' DONE WITH THIS SHIT!" the dragon roared, driving daggers into Chick's ears.

One of his hooves slipped on the grass and he crashed to the ground, legs flailing. His sensitive ears rang painfully as he struggled to get up but he was suddenly pinned by one of the dragon's spidery hands. Chick froze as hot iron-hard fingers squeezed his chest and sharp claws pricked his wet hide.

The dragon shouted at Buttercup, "Back the fuck off, bitch!"

"Let him go!"

"Back. The fuck. Off!" Jets of hot flame and smoke poured out of the dragon's long muzzle with each word.

Chick shouted, "Do as he says!"

They'd lost.

He lay on his side, panting heavily as the dragon's fang-filled and smoking snout lowered down on its sinuous neck, almost to the ground, stopping a few centimetres away from Chick's muzzle. A wash of terror ripped through him, and he spasmed under the powerful hand that pinned him. He'd heard tall-tales in bars and around campfires, about people coming back as predators — gryphons, diamond dogs, and dragons — who had turned cannibal. Killing and eating ponies that had once been fellow human beings. They'd sounded like idiotic horror stories. Until now.

He grimaced and hoped it would be quick, and that the others could make a run for it while the dragon was busy… eating.

The dragon inhaled, a rumbling, crackling sound coming from its chest as the air stoked an inner fire. Its mouth opened and Chick saw a hot glow at the back of its muscular throat as flames licked out around hoof-long sharp fangs.

It said, "I don't-"

A blur of grey hooves crashed into the side of the dragon's head and it yelped, sending a jet of searing flame just over Chick's ears.

The dragon recoiled, letting go of Chick and grabbing its head between its hands. Laura stood on stiff legs next to Chick, looking just as shocked as Chick was that she'd assaulted the dragon.

Shocked, grateful, and slightly aroused.

Buttercup shot down from the sky and crashed hooves-first into the dragon's exposed gut.

A huge blast of fire shot from its mouth!

Chick squeezed his watering eyes to shut out the sudden glare. The image of Laura, silhouetted against the searing hot jet of flames, burned into his mind's eye as he frantically rolled away from the furnace-like heat.

Laura gasped as Chick slipped and fell.

The huge beast struck as fast as a cobra, pinning Chick to the ground as his hooves kicked and flailed at the air. It crouched over his vulnerable body and Laura's despair was swept away by a wave of cold fury. The world blurred and in an instant, she was by his side, the dragon's lowered head in front of her. Laura felt disconnected from herself. There was no fear as it opened its smoking, fanged maw.

Laura reared up and lashed out with her grey hooves, crashing them against its scaly head. It would be easy to crush its skull and teeth like damp chalk.

Horrified, she recoiled, striking a glancing blow.

There was a blinding light as a searing hot wind roared around her, tugging her mane.

Then smoke.

Laura coughed painfully. The foul-smelling, scorching hot air stabbed at her delicate nostrils. Her ears popped with a whine and suddenly she could hear again.

"Die asshole! Mother bucker! Shit! Fuck! Die!" she heard Buttercup screaming, each curse accompanied by a meaty-sounding thwack.

Blinking away tears as a breeze dissipated the haze, Laura caught blurry glimpses of the yellow filly standing on top of the prostrate dragon, punching it with her forehooves.

Chick hugged her, squeezing Laura's shoulders painfully in his strong, pink-furred forelegs. Laura hissed at the sudden pressure on her over-heated skin. It felt like the worst sunburn she'd ever had!

He shouted something in French, his tone joyful but shaky. Cheek pressed against her neck, he squeezed again and said, "I don't believe it! You're alive!"

Buttercup looked up from the dragon and cried, "Oh my stars! You're okay?"

Laura coughed painfully, the lingering smoke clawing at her scream-raw throat, and she croaked, "I- I'm fine."

Why wouldn't she be?

The dragon groaned and tried to move. Buttercup cracked a hoof on the back of its head and it lay still after a spastic ripple of its long tail.

"Merde", Chick cursed and released Laura from the welcome support of his hug.

He galloped to the trailer and grabbed the rope Laura had been trying to retrieve. She sat down, abruptly feeling rather weak and wobbly. She numbly watched the others quickly hog-tie the unconscious dragon while she tried to catch her breath.

Had she really attacked that enormous beast?

What on earth had she been thinking?!

She snapped out of a daze when Chick pressed a wet and cool aluminium bottle into her hooves. The water smelled a bit odd and tasted faintly of oysters, but she swallowed anyway. It soothed her sore, dry throat and washed the taste of sulphur from her tongue. The diamond rattled in the bottle as she gave it back to him and she was absurdly relieved that she hadn't swallowed the damn thing.

Chick and Buttercup stared at her.

"What?" she croaked and broke down into a fit of painful coughs.

"How did you live through that?" asked Buttercup in an awed tone.

Chick nodded and said, "A dragon's fire is hot enough to melt glass and steel, but even your mane isn't burned. I thought we'd l-lost you for sure!"

Laura shrugged. Perhaps it had breathed just smoke and hot air at her? She didn't really believe that as the blackened grass around her certainly hadn't survived the fiery blast. She remembered her dream from the other night — she'd walked into a fire and hadn't been burned. But that was just a dream. This was probably just another inexplicable 'magic' thing. The kind Chick had warned her about days ago. She didn't know enough about magic to try and figure out what had happened.

"What do-", she coughed and winced. "Do now?" she whispered, trying to take it easy on her throat.

Chick rubbed a hoof on the back of his head and grimaced. "I'd like to leave at once, but I can't just abandon the rest of the cargo."

Laura shook her head and jabbed a hoof at the dragon.

"Fuck him!"

Chick lightly cuffed Buttercup and said, "Language, filly."

Buttercup snorted at him angrily and clearly stated, "Fuck. Him." She waved her hooves overhead and exclaimed, "He tried to kill you guys!"

The dragon groaned and slid his head around to look at them. Laura felt a stab of guilt at the blood oozing between the coils of rope wrapped tightly around his long muzzle. Speaking with difficulty out of the corner of his mouth, he said, "No funny shit, I did not want to get into it with you pones."

Chick frowned and said, "You took Laura hostage and tried to steal my cart."

They were well out of range of the dragon's long neck and twitching tail, but the loops of rope binding its wings didn't look terribly secure to Laura.

The dragon muttered, "You gotta be fucking kidding me." He raised his voice. "I was trying to help your busted asses! I didn't know one of your wives was hiding in the fucking thing."

Chick growled, "We are not married."

"Whatever", the dragon muttered. "You pones are all about that Mormon shit."

Chick squinted and asked, "You said you were trying to help?"

"Shit, yeah. I saw you riding that fucking awesome bike into the river and thought, 'These guys got big balls', a'ight? Figured I'd be neighbourly and help you all out. Like I said, I did not know she was hiding in there, and then you all get dumb tight before I could say shit."

He winced and then winked at Buttercup, "You got a hell of a fucking punch, girl."

Buttercup giggled and preened at his praise. Literally ran her lips over her feathers a couple of times before noticing Chick and Laura staring at her. She blushed, tucked her wings back against her sides and glared at the dragon.

Chick sighed and said, "Alright, well… My name is Chick." He waved a hoof at Buttercup and Laura and introduced them, "This is Buttercup and Laura. We're headed to Beantown."

The dragon snorted another puff of black smoke, making Laura wonder just how well the flammable rope would hold if he decided to breathe fire again.

"Ugh, that place went into the shitter when the bugs moved in."

Bugs? Laura's lip curled at the thought of cockroaches or those bloody awful bed bugs. What sort of place was Chick taking them?

"You don't like them?" asked Chick.

Why would anyone like bugs?

"Shit, no. Those little mindless slaves piss me off. Not their fault I guess, but they're all black and that kinda triggers me, you hear what I'm saying?"

"You do know they are just mindless drones, right?"

"That ain't no better! And I met a couple who turned into people — sort of — so they got it in 'em to be more than they is. Don't stop the whole fucking town from exploiting their black asses now, does it?"

Laura glanced between them and wondered what on earth they were going on about. Insects who turn into people? More magical mumbo-jumbo?

The dragon sighed and shook his head, "Shit, I'm just glad to be outta there. Anyway, you all can call me Deck."

"Deck?" Chick asked.

Deck the dragon nodded and winced. "Mama named me Joe, but everyone calls me Deck on account of I collect cards."

"Okay, Deck. I'm going to untie you and-"

Buttercup yelped, "What?! You're gonna let him go?"

Chick nodded. "Yes, you heard him. This was a misunderstanding, no one wanted to get into a fight."

"You believe that?" Buttercup snorted and pointed a hoof at Deck. "Why'd he steal the bridges then, huh?"

Deck laughed and said, "I didn't steal no fucking bridges. Do I look strong enough to steal a fucking bridge to you? Shit, just flying that cart over here nearly killed me!"

Laura asked him, "Do you-" She coughed and winced. God but her voice sounded terrible and it was agony to speak — perhaps she should just stay quiet for a while? The others were waiting for her to finish the question so she forced it out, "-know who?"

"I uh…" Deck's eyes shifted left and right, obviously not eager to share what he knew. He sighed and admitted, "It was Naga."

"Naga?" asked Buttercup.

"Yeah, that bitch is crazy. Takes whatever the hell she wants and doesn't give a shit about anyone who ain't no dragon."

Chick asked, "She is a dragon?"

Deck shook his head and winced. "Not like me. She's a sea serpent. For real, she's the biggest fucking snake I ever seen, so she's, like, the boss, a'ight? No one tells her what to do. She grabbed those bridges up, used 'em to make a lake so she'd have somewhere to hibernate." He chuckled and intoned, "Winter is coming."

Startled to hear Eddard Stark's famous catchphrase coming from a dragon's mouth, Laura giggled for a moment, making her throat hurt terribly. She whimpered and rubbed her throat with a hoof.

"Heh heh, she gets it." Deck smiled and nodded at Laura, "Yo, you just came back, right? Shiiit, when Little Finger kicked that bitch through the Moon Door I just about shat myself cheering!"

"Y-yes", she croaked while her eyes watered.

Buttercup looked back and forth between them and whined, "I don't get it."

"Oooh, yes. I remember", said Chick. "It's been ages since I've watched Game of Thrones. Shame that they'll never finish it, though maybe the author will peck out the remaining books on a typewriter when he Returns." His grin fell and he asked, "This Naga… She made this fog?"

"Yeah, she's lying at the bottom of her lake, bubbling away like a fucking coffee pot."

"Okay, well, with her I have problems. But if I untie you, we will call a truce?"

Deck nodded and said, "Truce."

Chick looked over at Buttercup and Laura, and asked, "Does that sound reasonable to you, ladies?"

Buttercup grimaced at the dragon, while uncomfortably ruffling her wings. After a moment she grudgingly agreed, "I guess. We can just leave him tied up."

Laura merely smiled and nodded, not wanting to strain her throat.

Honestly, she felt just terrible for assaulting the poor beast… For assaulting Deck. Now that they were talking instead of fighting, he seemed like a charming and harmless fellow. If a bit of a nerd. She wasn't certain if it was a real possibility or just her imagination, but she shuddered at the memory of his inexplicably fragile skull beneath her hooves. The whole incident was just horrid in every way and the sooner they could put it behind them, the better.

She stepped back as Chick and Buttercup untied him.

Deck's head swung her way on his long neck after his muzzle was freed. He licked his chops with a slightly forked tongue and said, "Yo, lady, sorry for scaring you like that."

This close up, Laura's sensitive nose was swamped with a dry, musky odour and the metallic tang of blood. It made the fur along her spine prickle and her tummy churned, but despite the urge to bolt from those predatory fangs, she winced and gestured at his bruised cheek.

"S-sorry", she whispered.

Deck winked and rumbled, "Don't sweat it, we good."

Once he was freed, Deck rubbed his wrists while flexing his broad wings. The right one had a couple of small holes through the skin that stretched between the finger-like bones. But they looked like old injuries to Laura, long-since healed with rims of puckered scar tissue.

"Before you go", Chick said while coiling up the rope, "You said you collect cards? As in, duelling card games?"

"Yeah, Magic the Gathering, Warhammer… Heck, I even got three binders of Yu-Gi-Oh! Why?"

"Ah, would you be interested in a trade? I have a retail box of Magic cards."

"Shit, yeah! What kinda trade we talking about?"

Chick chuckled at Deck's wide-eyed eagerness and lashing tail and gestured with a hoof to the other side of the river. "I'll trade you some card packs if you'll help carry the rest of the cargo over."

"A'ight! You got a deal, little pone." Deck spread his wide wings and leapt into the air with a burst of wind that set the fog swirling.

Chick pushed a loose strand of his pink mane out of his face and yelled after the dragon, "Two packs!"

Deck whirled around, hovered and shouted, "What?! Fuck that! Five!"

Chick snorted a laugh and counter offered, "Three!"

"Four!"

"Three, and Buttercup will help you!"

"What?" cried Buttercup.

Deck thought about it for a few moments before shouting back, "Deal!" He flapped heavily towards the other side of the river.

Satisfied, Chick turned and asked Buttercup, "Would you mind helping him? And keeping an eye on him?"

"Hmmm… I dunno. Not like I'm getting any cards out of this, or am I?" She grinned wickedly and waggled her eyebrows.

Unimpressed, Chick snorted and said, "Says the filly who stowed away in my cart. Stole my pickled fish. Cost me profit. Cost me-"

"Alright, alright! I'm going." She opened her wings and muttered, "Who pissed on your cloud?"

"I'm pretty sure that was you", he called after her with a laugh. "Though it was my cart!"

Laura rolled her eyes as she walked over to the abandoned water bottle, sat and carefully unscrewed the cap. She almost spat water when she lowered the bottle and found Chick staring at her, his nose so close she could feel the warmth of his breath against her seared-sensitive skin.

"You have a little scrape on your chin. Wait here." He trotted over to the trailer and started rummaging around in the tumbled pile of boxes.

Laura set the bottle down and gingerly touched a hoof to her chin. It did indeed sting a little, though nothing compared with her poor throat. There was now a smear of blood on her hoof. Ugh.

Chick returned with the first aid kit and dabbed a pad of cloth soaked in alcohol on the cut. That only made it sting even more! Eyes watering, nose running from the burn of alcohol, Laura felt properly miserable. Chick tenderly brushed a styptic pencil against the cut while cupping her cheek with his other hoof. It was a rather intimate gesture and Laura felt her face and ears heating up with a blush.

She must look hideous!

Fat tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

"Oh, non, non, non", Chick murmured something in French. She understood the words for 'sad' and possibly 'pathetic', which certainly described how she felt!

He pulled her into a gentle hug, lifting her forehooves off of the ground as he tucked her up against his warm chest. She rested her head against his shoulder and, after a moment, lifted her limp, dangling legs and returned his hug as she sniffled and hot tears trickled down her cheeks. He gently rubbed her back, which was soothing but also sparked a twinge of guilt. While their pony-shaped bodies didn't fit as snugly as the last time she'd cuddled with Thomas, Chick certainly felt and smelled quite masculine. She'd always been a physical kind of girl, preferring a hug or a kiss over trying to tell someone how she felt, and she needed this hug. Her tense muscles quivered as they relaxed. She sniffled and swallowed the guilt with a load of mucous, and let out a shaky sigh as the whoosh and snap of wings announced Deck and Buttercup's return.

Blinking tears from her eyes, Laura gently pushed Chick away and watched as they landed near the trailer with the first load of crates and bags.

Buttercup trotted over while Deck leapt back into the air. She pressed a hoof against Laura's shoulder and asked, "Hey, you okay?"

Laura nodded and wiped her eyes with a curled fetlock. She squeaked a little as Buttercup suddenly hugged her; the slender pegasus' legs were very strong! Laura inhaled deeply and returned the hug, which felt nice enough even though Buttercup lacked Chick's muscular bulk and comfortingly masculine scent. At least this hug didn't come with any feelings of guilt or regret.

Buttercup patted Laura's back and asked, "You going to be okay?"

Laura nodded.

"You're sure?" The filly stepped back and gazed into Laura's eyes.

Laura nodded again and forced a shaky smile.

Buttercup nodded back and spread her wings. "A'ight. Back in a bit."

She took off and called to Deck to wait up as she flew after him. Chick zipped the first aid kit closed, grabbed the handle in his mouth and carried it over to the trailer. He looked a little out-of-sorts when he returned, with his ears laying half-flat and looking anywhere but at Laura.

After an awkward moment Laura said, or tried to say, "H-how did-", she swallowed painfully, "-crossing go?"

Chick perked up a little. "It went fine. My bike is- Tabarnak!"

Laura blinked in surprise as he suddenly charged off into the forest! Heart pounding, she leapt to her hooves and stared after him while her ears pricked and rotated to catch any threatening sounds. There was just the river's burble, the fog-muted flapping of wings, and the rumble of a motorcycle engine, which revved up for a moment before cutting off.

A few minutes later, Chick emerged from the brush and grass, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. He trotted over and apologised, "Désolé… Sorry about that. I forgot to kill the engine in all the rush."

She nodded, a gesture she was no doubt going to be doing a lot until her throat recovered. Chick patted her shoulder and walked to the trailer. He jumped up on to the bed and began roughly organising the cargo; shoving it back to where it had slid from and re-stacking it. With two fliers shuttling back and forth it didn't take long for the remaining boxes, crates, and a small barrel to pile up. Buttercup brought over Laura's sweater, holding the filthy wet thing out at leg's length. Laura thank her with a nod and a smile, then sighed at the state of it before tossing it carelessly into the trailer. The garment's only hope was that they had a good cleaners in Beantown.

Deck panted, "Okay, time to pay up, Pinkie."

"It's Chick", he grimaced at the nickname.

Laura barely held back a giggle at the memory of those adorable foals prancing around him while chanting 'Pinkie Pie'. It was no less amusing coming from a big beast like Deck though she could see why Chick might not agree. He hunted through the pile of boxes, dragged one out of the pile with his teeth and muscular neck, and unlatched its sealed lid. He removed several hard drives in silvery bags, and a stack of official-looking letters with 'Nouvelle Acadie' stamped on them in a big, blue font. Underneath them was a long green mylar-wrapped box which he dragged out onto the grass.

Deck stuck his long neck over Chick's shoulder and gasped, "Shiiit, you found a mint Conspiracy box?"

"Oui", Chick said with a sad sigh. He slid the blade out on a box-cutter that he'd retrieved from his tools while the fliers were working. "I hope you realise how much profit I'm losing by opening this? My customer in Beantown would pay much more for a mint box, you know."

Deck laughed and asked, "You mean Deuce of Diamonds? Shiiit, that bitch was still trying to win his Mox Sapphire back when we bounced."

Knife in mouth, Chick carefully cut away the transparent plastic, opened the cardboard box's lid, and stepped out of Deck's way. The dragon dithered for a while but finally selected three of the shiny mylar-wrapped card packs — which ironically featured a dragon on the packaging. The foul-mouthed, heavily armed lizard pouted his thin lips when Chick pressed the lid closed.

"Well", Deck said while spreading his wings. "It's been real, but I gotta drop these off at the cave. It's my turn to hunt and those deer are getting to be a bitch to find."

"Your turn to hunt? There are more dragons in your group?" asked Chick.

Deck looked a little nervous, clutching at the card packs and squinting at Chick for a moment. "Well… Yeah, we're crashing here for winter and gonna fly to Iceland." He grinned and said, "It's got volcanoes and Naga said dragons can fucking swim in that shit! For real? I can't fucking wait! My ass has been freezing since the day I got back."

"Iceland?" Laura whispered. "You-", she coughed a couple of time and croaked, "-so far?"

The dragon flexed his large bat-like wings and winked at her. "These ain't just decorations. I'd rather haul my ass to Hawaii, but Iceland's closer. Plus we gonna meet a bunch of Euro dragons there and Naga's hoping to hook up with this sea serpent dude she talked with on the phone. Sounds like a fag to me, but there ain't no Tinder for dragons so I guess she gotta try."

Laura bit her lip for a moment and then blurted out, "Letter?"

"Letter?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered, "For my family. In England."

Deck squinted at her and grumbled, "I ain't no postman, lady. But, maybe we could make a deal?" He cocked his head in Chick's direction.

Laura fixed the poor stallion with a pleading stare and hoped that her sad puppy-dog eyes look still worked. It should, she was even cuter as a tiny horse and, dirty and bruised, she truly was rather sad and pathetic.

Chick sighed loudly while scrubbing a hoof through his scruffy pink mane. He muttered something about 'Dieu' and grudgingly said, "Fine, fine." He held up a hoof. "One pack."

"Two!"

Chick grimaced and simply countered with, "One pack, and you have to tell her why you won't do it."

Laura turned her sad, pleading eyes on poor Deck.

He didn't stand a chance.

"A'ight, a'ight. Get out them cards, Pinkie."

Laura's delighted squeak and quick hug seemed to brighten Chick's mood. She tried to hug Deck but it was a little too awkward since she only came up to his belly, so she settled for giving him a quick nuzzle. He was very warm.

While Chick went to fetch the box of cards, Laura dug around in her Dora the Explorer saddlebags for a notebook and pencil. It took quite some time to write the brief letter, during which the others reloaded the trailer, with Deck helpfully pitching in while he waited. Laura tried using hoof-grip to hold the pencil, but her feet felt very sore and tired. She had to settle for holding the pencil in her mouth, scrawling each letter one at a time as she couldn't see the paper as she wrote. The letter ended up looking like a five-year-old had written it in scrawling block letters that ran over one another.

~~Dea~~ DEAR, MUM & DAD.

I AM STILL IN ~~CANA~~ AMERICA WITH THOMAS.
I CAN'T COME HOME FOR OBVIOUS REASONS,
BUT I HOPE THIS LETTER FINDS YOU WELL.
I HOPE IT FINDS YOU AT ALL! PLEASE TAKE
CARE AND KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU AND MISS
YOU.

YOUR DAUGHTER, LAURA LEANORA SMITH.

Writing out her full name should help convince them that letter was truly from her. She waved Buttercup over as Chick noisily rode the motorcycle out of the undergrowth. The filly cocked an ear and Laura asked, "Date?"

"Umm…" Buttercup's muzzle wrinkled cutely as she thought, "I know it's September and I think Mama said it'd been twenty-three years since the Event."

SEPT, 2038

There. She really wished that Thomas had thought to date his letter.

XXXOOO

PS. I AM A GREY EARTH PONY NOW, WITH ORANGE
HAIR. ORANGE HAIR!
PPS. GIVE SIS AND THE BOYS A HUG FROM ME.

Laura was under no illusion that all of her family members could have Returned at the same time, but it would have felt wrong and a bit depressing to end her letter any other way. Who knows — with any luck they may have all been travelling together when it happened. Not likely, but it was something worth hoping for.

Cursing quietly under her breath, she crudely folded the torn-out page with her clumsy hooves and mouth-printed her parent's address on the outside. By the time she was finished, the trailer was packed and hitched up to the motorcycle. A short ride up an overgrown gravel track and they would be back on the highway.

Deck waved with one clawed hand while tightly gripping Laura's precious letter and his packs of cards in the other. "Say 'yo' to Duce when you see him. Have yourselves a safe ride, pones."

"Have fun in Volcanoland!" chirped Buttercup.

Chick wished him, "Safe travels."

Laura just waved as Deck flapped away into the thick fog, and hoped that he and her letter would make it safely to Iceland and then on to home.

"Right", Chick said, turning to Buttercup and Laura. "Tick inspection time."

Laura gasped, "What?!"

Laura's fur felt matted and itchy, like a filthy wool blanket that she couldn't throw off in disgust. Even though she'd waded in the river's shallows and been brushed from ears to hooves, she was not clean by any stretch of the imagination!

Having to spend an hour searching for ticks hadn't helped at all.

Brushing Buttercup and combing her blue mane and tail had been very much like grooming classes at the stable — only with the 'horse' giving her beauty tips. It had been like a trip to a queer outdoor salon. Ugh. What Laura wouldn't give for a bubbly, hot bath to sink into right now! And a nice cuppa. And some petit fours to nibble on. Buttercup had returned the favour and then they'd both given Chick a going over, with Laura sticking to his front-end, thank you very much. It had still been extremely awkward.

She sighed soulfully and shifted on the thinly cushioned sidecar's bench seat. Her hooves felt weirdly achy and tired, like muscles that had been worked too hard.

"Nearly there!" shouted Chick over the motorcycle's engine and roar of the wind.

Laura smiled slightly while gazing down the highway to where the last rays were lighting up the scattered clouds a lovely crimson. It would be a relief to finally stop after so many monotonous hours of watching forests slowly roll past on either side. There had been a brief respite when they passed through a town called Bangor, over a highway bridge that was merely crumbling rather than missing.

A furry yellow face popped up from inside of the sidecar. Buttercup almost bumped her muzzle against Laura's and loudly asked, "What'd he say?"

Laura snorted in surprise and flopped over sideways across the seat, squeezing her embarrassingly naked thighs together.

"We-" She coughed to clear the thick feeling in her throat and rasped, "We're almost there."

Chick flicked the headlamps on as he steered the motorcycle down a slip road while kicking it down through the gears to slow them. A large green sign glowed with the words 'Newport, Skowhegan' and an arrow pointing down the ramp. Another sign read 'FOOD, Dunkin' Donuts, Burger King, McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Tim Hortons'. The colourful logos made Laura's tummy rumble as dreams of greasy burgers and pizza tumbled through her head. Buttercup squeezed half-way up onto the seat next to her and peered through the growing gloom as they rode through the main street of this small, unremarkable town. Unlit signs with once bright logos loomed in front of dark, squat buildings.

Chick seemed to know where he was going, turning right at a building with a bare flagpole and riding slowly down one of the town's side streets. The motorcycle sagged and wobbled through water-filled potholes that littered a broad parking lot. They squeaked to a stop in front of a steel-roofed building that looked like it had been armoured against a storm, with wood panels over most of the windows. One by the door had a steel grate and mesh instead. In the fading light, she could just make out several other similar outbuildings clustered around a much larger warehouse, several metres away across the rotting parking lot. A massive American "eighteen-wheeler" was permanently parked nearby, slowly rusting away atop its flat tires.

Chick killed the engine but left the headlamps on.

Buttercup tucked her wings tight to her slender body and squeezed past Laura like an impatient cat. She hopped out of the sidecar and stretched her wings wide while yawning hugely.

"Where are we?" she called to Chick as Laura hid her own yawn behind a hoof.

He set his helmet on the gas tank and climbed down to the tarmac. "This is a rest spot for the convoy. They've been and gone already, but we'll catch up tomorrow."

Laura felt pins-and-needles in her tail and bum as they slowly walked up to the building together. Chick dug around in his leather jacket and tugged out a keyring and fitted one of the many keys into a large padlock on the door. The door's metal surface was painted a pale hospital-room green, with several riveted metal patches, and a crater made of tiny little dents.

Chick noticed what she was looking at and told her, "Shotgun", while he fitted one of the keys into the door's sturdy lock. "We have had looters try to break in a few times."

The door creaked quietly as he pushed it open and strode inside. A moment later several small bright pinpricks of light burst on, though they only dimly lit the hallway. Laura followed Buttercup inside, noticing that there were three foot high piles of sandbags on either side of the door. The building was well maintained, with none of the dirt, cobwebs, or animal droppings that Laura had grown used to seeing inside abandoned-looking buildings.

"Hah!" Chick grinned while reading a note pinned to one of the walls. He said, "We missed the convoy by two days. But Gavi wrote that he will wait another day or two for us to catch up at the distillery."

"Distilla-what?" asked Buttercup while peering over his shoulder at the note.

"Gavi?" rasped Laura at the same time.

He glanced between them, smiled and said, "The distillery is where they brew up our fuel. Gavi is a friend. He's saved my aaa… rump when I Returned in the middle of a Montreal winter." He waved them inside and said, "Come on, there should be dried fruit, nuts, and other stuff to eat. And we don't have to sleep under fabric tonight!"

The downside to camping inside was that they couldn't have a fire, but Chick broke out a small alcohol-fuelled stove and set a pot of water to boil. The former employee's lounge slash kitchen had a couple of worn couches and a low coffee table, which they used to make a simple 'dinner' of dehydrated food stored at the rest spot.

Laura gave Chick a warm, grateful smile when he handed her a steaming mug of mint tea with a generous dollop of honey stirred into it.

"For your poor throat."

She set the mug down and impulsively pulled him into a half-hug. His ears flicked as she whispered, "Thank you."

Not just for the tea. She'd heard him yelling her name when Deck had almost flown away with her, and though he'd ultimately fallen during their little scuffle, his heart had certainly been in the right place. Well… Some of his fight must have been for his valuable trade goods, but she couldn't help feeling a little warm inside, thinking that he'd also been concerned for her and Buttercup.

Buttercup wolfed down her bowl of dried apple, apricots, and nuts, and stumbled off towards the small office where they'd dropped off their sleeping bags and pillows.

"G'nite."

Laura waved a hoof while slowly sipping her sweet tea. She was exhausted and would follow the filly to Slumberland as soon as she finished it. Chick grabbed a notebook and pencil off of a shelf and trotted over to the table. After flipping through a few pages which were already full of writing, he scooped up the pencil and began writing… something. A report of their journey? Notes about Oak Point farm? Laura was too exhausted to scrape together enough curiosity to ask. He was still at it as Laura finished her tea and got up to retire as well.

"Good night", she whispered.

He paused and smiled charmingly. "Good night, Laura. Sweet dreams."

Shuffling to the bedroom office, she yawned hugely and felt a little uncouth for not covering her mouth. It was impossible to walk and be polite at the same time. Rounding the corner she saw Buttercup, sitting up on her sleeping bag with a certain lurid book in her hooves!

"No, no, no!" Laura rasped and quickly trotted toward the filly. "That's not-" A hoof caught on the edge of the sleeping bag and she stumbled, flopping onto her chest and skidding to a halt at Buttercup's hooves.

"Woah! Are you okay?"

Laura snorted and struggled to get up. "You shouldn't be reading that!" she urgently rasped.

"What? This?" Buttercup giggled and held the book away as Laura tried to reach for it. "S'alright, I read it years ago when Mama left it out. I really like chapter fourteen, when the princesses have a competition to see who can-"

"Just… Please put it away before Chick sees it!" Laura croaked, wincing as her throat burned.

Buttercup rolled her eyes and told her, "I'm pretty sure he's read it too, y'know."

Laura rather doubted that he'd be interested in a smutty romance novel, but that was beside the point! She sat up on her haunches and waved her hooves in a frantically pleading manner. "Please put it away? I don't want him thinking…" How to put this?

"That we like sex?"

Laura groaned in a long-suffering way as Buttercup snickered at her embarrassment. Giving in, she flopped down onto the sleeping bag and pulled one of Buttercup's pillows over her head.

"Fiiine. Look, I'm putting it away."

A moment later Buttercup lay down against Laura's back and she felt one of the pegasus' warm wings drape over her back.

"Sorry. I'm just teasing."

Laura grunted and shifted her tired hooves into a more comfortable position.

Buttercup muttered, "I don't think he swings that way anyway."

"What?" Laura poked her face out from under the pillow.

Shrugging, Buttercup said, "Well, I've seen Rose, Mistral, and even Twinkle makin' moves on him, but I don't think he's ever taken anypony up on having a tumble."

Laura sighed through her nose and whispered, "Perhaps he's married?"

"Nah, he's single. Kinda surprising too since he's a hot stud and they're a lotta lonely mares out there. I heard my folks plotting how to try and get him to marry into one of the herds, they're still hoping he might someday. Heck, if I wasn't going to Alexandria I'd probably try to jump him, even if he is kind of like a weird uncle."

Laura hesitated and then whispered, "You really find him attractive?"

"Yeah, of course. Like you don't?"

Maybe a little? He certainly had a dreamy voice, gave nice hugs, and had a pleasingly masculine odour. Laura shook her head and whispered, "No, not at all. He's more like a cute plush toy than handsome. Not just him, all of you are like cute toys. All of us. Except for Deck, I suppose." A yawn cut off her sleepy rambling.

Buttercup chuckled and gently poked Laura with a hoof. "Well, you'd better start finding ponies sexy if you wanna knock hooves with that fiance of yours."

Laura's sighed quietly and closed her eyes. Buttercup's lurid advice echoed her own fears about what might happen when she arrived in Beantown.

Author's Note

I've given all of the previous chapters an editing pass, though nothing which affects the plot or character interactions. Just fixing up some of the language... literally. Conflicting views very helpfully pointed out that my memories of French classes in high school + Google searches are inadequate for writing Chick's Quebecois dialog. Ugh. I've trimmed it back, though I'm a little disappointed that most of his French will be limited to curse words now.

C'est la vie. :pinkiesad2:

As always, please PM me if you spot anything that needs an edit. Thank you. :twilightsmile:

Now with an embarrassingly large number of edits courtesy of Cross Lament. :facehoof:

8 - Beantown, USA

Chick pressed hard with the scrub brush strapped to his hoof. Breakfast had left a solid residue of dried egg on all the plates and he was determined to leave them sparkling clean.

Buttercup sat next to him with a drying towel clutched in her hooves, wings twitching impatiently as she waited.

The next Scavenger to stop here would not thank them if they left a mess.

He dunked the plate into the bucket of soapy water. "We'll be in Beantown this afternoon. We should make good time on the interstate — if we don't run into more dragons."

Buttercup held out her hooves as he passed her the plate. "Great! I still gotta long way to go but I think Laura's pretty beat."

"Ummm…" Chick wasn't certain how, or if, he should bring this up. But he had to know. "I noticed that you and Laura were, ah, sharing her bed?"

Buttercup snickered as she flailed the towel over the plate, leaving more water than she was wiping off. "Yup. We're snuggle buddies."

He felt a flash of irritation at her smug tone as he scooped up the last plate from the bottom of the bucket where he'd placed it to soak. "You do know that she's already spoken for, oui?"

"Pfft. I know! She doesn't ever shut up about that stallion she's chasing. But, hey, you can't blame a filly for taking advantage of a warm and pretty body when she gets the chance." She snickered in a very self-satisfied manner.

He frowned and scrubbed harder. That was precisely what he was accusing her of. It was truly none of his business who Laura chose to share her sleeping bag with or the reasons why. But he couldn't help feeling annoyed that Buttercup was taking advantage of her trust. Laura didn't seem to realise that she'd Returned as an attractive mare or that her faithfulness made her even more appealing in a counter-intuitive way.

"Well, I'm just saying", he said while passing the plate to Buttercup, "Don't get your hopes up or hurt her."

"Aww… Are you jealous, Chicky?" Buttercup grinned in an infuriating way and prodded him with a wingtip. "You're really making a big deal outta nothing! It's just a friendly cuddle. Totes innocent, like when Mama smootches you on the cheek. I'm only gonna see you guys for another day or two before I haul tail to Alexandria and she ain't gonna cheat on her stallion with somepony like me." Her smile slid into a frown as she attacked the plate.

He grabbed another towel to dry the fur on his forelegs and felt a little lighter after getting that off of his chest. Relationship drama and arguments were the last things he needed on this already inconvenient trip!

They both glanced over their shoulders as the subject of their quiet conversation hopped past the little kitchen's doorway. After breakfast Buttercup had started teaching Laura how to gallop. The first exercise involved doing bunny hops. Crouch back a little onto the hind legs, raise the forelegs and hop forward onto them. Once they land, do a similar hop forward with the hind legs. Rinse and repeat. Laura hopped back and forth along the carpeted hall that ran down the centre of the building, her face screwed up in cute concentration as she stared down at her hooves.

Chick started when Buttercup nudged him and whispered, "Easy, big guy. She's taken remember?"

He huffed and rolled his eyes before hanging the towel up to dry. Grabbing the wash bucket's handle in his mouth he carried it outside.

The terrain became a little more tamed the further south they rode.

Canada had vast stretches of wild pine forest and rocky landscape but in this part of the US there were small towns and farms dotted along the Maine Turnpike. Once-productive fields were overgrown with lush meadows of wild grasses, bushes, and groves of trees slowly expanding. Perfect terrain for deer, so Chick kept his eyes open for any that might leap into the road. A collision at these speeds would surely kill the deer and destroy the Ural.

It wouldn't be many more years before wilderness reclaimed homes and businesses left to crumble and not much longer before the interstate vanished too. The thought made Chick nervous about his future.

The interstate was two lanes northbound and two south with a slice of wilderness separating them. It was so overgrown Chick rarely caught sight of the northbound lanes. Potholes and rough patches also kept him on his toes but the rugged motorcycle handled it easily even in one-wheel drive. He swerved to avoid a utility pole which had come down during last year's hurricane. He'd helped drag it out of the way but its cables lay over the road like a mess of scattered spaghetti. His tires made a rhythmic thumping as they rode over them. There was no fear of being electrocuted. Even if everyone Returned at once tomorrow — as humans even — it would take decades of labour to get the power grid back online.

Not stopping to look for Returnees in every town saved time. The convoy had come this way two days ago and their scouting party would have checked. It wasn't like he had room for more passengers.

Chick glanced at Laura. She was sitting upright in the sidecar with a bored expression and unfocused eyes. Small gusts snuck around Twinkle's windscreen to tug at her long sweep of silky orange mane.

He turned back to the road ahead before she noticed his gaze. Chick sympathised with her boredom even if he didn't share it. This was the best place in the world!

Kilometres rolling away beneath his tires. Beautiful landscape drifting past. Dramatic clouds on the horizon. Fresh air in his muzzle while the motorcycle thrummed between his thighs. Perfect. This was his zen-place for relaxing. Though it also forced him to remember unhappy times from his pre-Event life. Whenever he'd stormed out of an argument with his wife or felt grouchy after a rough workday, he'd hop on his beautiful BMW K1300GT and put a few hundred kilometres between himself and whatever was making his heart sore. She was always waiting to pounce when he reluctantly rode home — except that final time.

He sighed quietly and put it out of his mind. Past was past. He started to sink back into a mesmerised state of focused relaxation when Buttercup dropped down from the sky to fly alongside.

"I see smoke ahead!" she shouted over the wind and motorcycle's rumble.

Chick nodded and yelled back, "You have good eyes! That's where we'd headed! They must be cooking the last batch before winter!"

"It's gonna rain!"

He nodded to her, and she swooped back up into the sky, easily keeping pace and giving her wings a workout.

Those puffy thunderheads seemed a lot less pretty and picturesque.

They stopped once at the side of the highway to stretch their legs, answer Nature's Call, and refill the fuel tank. Also so a sweaty but satisfied Buttercup could take her turn in the passenger seat. Laura, not having the option of flying, curled up in the foot well like a cat settling into in a cozy bed. At least she would keep dry in there. They'd ridden under the clouds and the wind gusts were getting a little chilly. It seemed that Buttercup's prediction would be spot on.

They didn't have much further to go and Chick spotted the green 'EXIT 53' sign as a few isolated drops splatted against his windscreen. The storm warned them but thankfully held off the full assault. They were merely damp after spending fifteen minutes or so navigating Portland's side streets. He turned the Ural down one of the many tree-lined lanes in an industrial park and rode past the stack of three wood barrels that made up the business' sign before the Event. He turned down a narrow alley behind the building. It was nothing special; a typical single-story business park mall made of concrete block. It could have once been home to a local courier, a small manufacturer, or Chinese product importer. The chimney made of a motley of bricks pouring grey smoke into the threatening sky had been added post-Event, when the gas lines to the stills had dried up.

A pair of battered white cube vans were packed against the back wall and he smiled as he spotted Gavi's white VW Jetta parked just past them with its doors blazoned with the flag of Nouvelle Acadie; the blue, white, and red stripes of France with a yellow five-pointed star in the blue stripe.

"Chicklets! About bucking time!" yelled a large dark-blue earth pony who loitered outside the rear entrance to the distillery. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat and a black leather gun harness, though the gun wasn't currently mounted to its holder.

"Chicklets?" Buttercup squee'd quietly.

"Don't start", Chick grumbled as he swung into the parking space next to the Jetta. He cut off the motor and jammed on the parking brake before bothering to respond to the security guard.

"Hi, Steve. How is- Oh, fuck me hard!"

Everypony bolted from the motorcycle as the rain started to pour! Steve grinned and took two steps to get under the awning over the door. They were dripping wet and shivering by the time they'd covered the few metres of tarmac to crowd around the big stallion.

"God damn it", Chick cursed in French as he unbuckled his helmet and realised that he'd left all his rain gear stowed on the bike.

"Yeah, it's really pissin' down aint' it? Yeesh!" Steve tipped his hat and smiled in a far-too-familiar way at Laura and Buttercup. "Well, hello ladies. Welcome to the distillery. We run tours and tastings from noon 'til five if you'd consider letting a gentleman buy you a round?"

Chick snorted and cut off a grinning Buttercup's reply. "We're not staying. Where's Gavi?"

He didn't like the overbearing guard. Steve was a bully with few morals and while that made him an excellent guard, so long as he was paid, he wasn't much fun to live with. Chick's passengers would be better off avoiding him.

Especially Buttercup.

Steve snorted noisily and spat a loogie into the rain. "Where do you think he is? Inside where it's dry, probably getting pickled and talking Tun's ear off."

Chick nodded to him and opened the thick metal door for Laura and Buttercup.

Warm damp air, rich with the scent of fermenting grain, blew through their manes as they stepped inside. The warehouse was dim and the thin metal roof roared with the rain pounding it. Chick waited a few minutes after the door banged shut for his eyes to adjust.

He led Laura and Buttercup past dusty smelling grain sacks, bundled and tied with string so they could be shipped back to Beantown. Only a small pile of a dozen full ones remained. They clip-clopped down a short hall and into the working heart of the place. The roof drummed with the heavy rain pounding on it and the ponies hard at work had to shout over it and the muted roar of a large fire. Refrigerator-sized copper kettles lined the back wall of the room, their reddish metal gleaming dimly in the bright LED lights due to a coating of black soot. A half-dozen ponies of various tribes and colours were hard at work; feeding the fire, monitoring the distilling equipment, and shooting the breeze.

"Chick!" "Hey, it's Chick." "Yo!"

One of the pegasi whistled and flexed her crimson wings. Buttercup trilled back and spread hers while grinning like a loon.

"Hi, guys. It's good to see you again."

They spent a few minutes warming and drying themselves by the fire as Chick introduced the distillery crew to Laura and Buttercup. Hooves were tapped. Pleasantries exchanged. He could happily stay here until tomorrow but they were on a tight schedule even if it meant riding in the downpour. The convoy to Alexandria wouldn't wait for them.

One of the crew directed them to the Ageing Stack.

It was the largest room in the building and housed row upon row of wood barrels piled on study shelves. The toasty scent of oak and alcohol made Chick's nose twitch. They mostly produced alcohol and bio-diesel at the distillery but a certain percentage found its way in here to age before being shipped to markets all around the East Coast. Chick had a fondness for their bourbon and the temptation to stay grew a little stronger.

Gavi and Tun Mash were playing chess at one of the dining tables at the back of the room. Tun was appropriately named, being a rather obese and short earth pony. His pea green ears twitched, and he looked up from pondering his next move.

"Chick! About fuggin' time! You get my cheese?"

Chick laughed and called to him, "I have some good news and some bad news."

Tun squinted at him and frowned as Gavi's head turned completely around in an unsettling way so that he was looked over his own back to fix his bright yellow eyes on Chick and his passengers as they trotted over.

"Gavriel! Hello, you old crow."

"Good to see you too, Chicky. We were all getting worried when you didn't arrive at the warehouse." His voice was surprisingly high pitched for his size and had a raucous quality to it — like the crow Chick had blithely called him. He nodded his hooked beak at Laura and said, "I see you have an extra passenger. A newly Returned?"

"Yes. We should speak in English as neither of them know much French."

Chick waved Buttercup and Laura over. "Ladies, I would like you to meet Gavriel or Gavi for short. He's the griffin I told you about, the one who saved my bacon when I Returned."

Buttercup pronked over with wide-eyed enthusiasm and held out one of her hooves. "Wow! Nice to meet you, Gavi! I bet you're a real killer with those claws, eh?"

Gavi chuckled and tapped his large yellow fist against Buttercup's hoof. Even sitting he towered over all of them. "Yes, well I 'ave to be since no pony will go and 'unt for me, oui? I can not believe 'ow big you 'ave grown, Buttercup! You make me feel old! Last time I visit the farm you were très petit, smaller than a cabbage! You 'ave become a very pretty little lady."

Buttercup blushed and preened one of her wings as Laura reluctantly walked up to the table.

Chick could understand her hesitation. Gavi was not quite as large as Deck but he was very fierce-looking, despite having the heart of a kitten in that leonine body.

Chick smiled at her and said, "And this is Laura. We bumped into one another on my way to the farm and I'm giving her a lift to Beantown."

She bravely held out a hoof and said, "I'm pleased to meet you, Gavi", in a slightly raspy voice.

With introductions made, Chick broke the bad news that some of Tun's order had been left behind to accommodate Buttercup. He was not a happy brewmaster. Some of his ire was deflected from Chick and fizzled as the usually jovial Tun couldn't bring himself to chew out the young mare, not over cheese anyway. Anypony caught messing with the stills or stored barrels would be in for the tongue lashing of a lifetime! Gavi's crowing laughter echoed in the warehouse as Buttercup told the somewhat exaggerated tale of stowing away and fighting a pack of raccoons. Tun seemed to find her precociousness amusing though he made her swear not to get between him and his cheese ever again — and talked her into a discount on next year's supply. Chick assured him that what there was would be waiting for him in Beantown when Tun arrived in a month's time to spend the winter with his herd.

It was past time to get back on the road again. Chick bid farewell to everypony, assuring them that he was looking forward to partying with them on New Year's Eve. He wouldn't miss it! The distillery crew always invited the Scavs to their celebration and provided the best liquid cheer.

Chick shivered as they gathered outside under the awning. It was still dumping down and gusts of chill wind blew droplets of rain on them as thunder grumbled in the distance.

Gavi ruffled his wings while staring glumly at the heavy raindrops battering the deep and wide puddles between them and the vehicles. His beak quirked into a smile as he asked, "I 'ave room in the car if you ladies would like?"

"You bet!"

"Yes, please! Oh-", Laura turned to look a Chick with a concerned expression. "I-If that's alright?"

He chuckled and shooed her away with a hoof. "Of course it is. Even I would put up with Gavi's company to stay dry. Go on."

She gave him an unhappy smile of guilt and gratitude before dashing off at her fastest trot after the others. She ducked her head down and ears flat as the rain quickly soaked her pale coat, turning it dark grey on top. Chick sighed, slipped on his helmet, and plodded through the cold downpour to his beloved Ural.

No point in rushing since he was going to be soaked through by the time they arrived.

Laura shivered and chewed on her lower lip as the cold rain pounded on her bare back and head.

Both doors on the passenger-side of Gavi's car were thrown open. Buttercup sat on the front seat, her dripping wet wings half-extended, while Gavi's leonine backside stuck out of the rear door. He cursed quietly as he reorganised the pile of cargo that was spread over the back seat.

After a few minutes he stepped back and gestured with long claws. "'Op in! Do not worry that you make the seat wet."

She wasn't planning to! But it was nice having permission.

She clumsily leapt inside and almost tumbled right back out again! Gavi caught her gently in his hands, she didn't even feel a scratch from his sharp-looking claws, and he tucked her in before slamming the door closed. There was just enough space to fit her rump onto the end of the bench seat's cushion. Like Chick's trailer it was filled with a haphazard collection of packages, bags, and bundles of letters tied together with string. The front passenger seat only had a stack of plastic tubs in the footwell and Buttercup had plenty of room on the seat.

Gavi slammed the front door shut and ran around the car.

He seemed kind and behaved like a gentleman despite his imposing size. Rather like that dragon once they'd gotten to know him. But something about the way he smelled set Laura's nerves on edge. He was composed of two kinds of predator; a tawny and muscular lion body with the claws and hooked beak of a raptor. That might be it.

The driver's seat had added cushion bolsters that Gavi used to wedge himself in an upright position before yanking the door closed.

"Brrr…" He shook himself and muttered something long and complex in French that salted with Québécois curse words. "Pardon me, ladies. But that was sucky, non? Let me get the engine started so we may 'ave a little 'eat."

That would be very, very nice! Laura vainly wished for a nice clean and dry towel to sop up the water trickling down her face and neck. Her mane was plastered to her neck, and the less said about the squishy mass of soaked tail she was sitting on the better!

Rain running down her window blurred the view as she watched Chick struggle into his yellow poncho.

She shivered, hung her head, and felt a bit guilty. Here she sat bemoaning the lack of luxuries while he would be out there for the rest of the journey!

The car's engine squealed and groaned before turning over and shuddering into life, after a few moments it settled into a clattering lope. Buttercup groomed her wings while Laura reluctantly watched Chick struggle to start his motorcycle. He had to kick the pedal again and again and again before it finally turned over.

He climbed aboard and slowly backed out of the parking spot, beep-beeping once he was clear.

"'Ere we go then." Gavi put the car into reverse and twisted his head around in a smooth, robotic motion to peer out the rear window. His shoulders didn't move at all. It was rather creepy. He winked at Laura and said, "Do not worry about safety belts. They will not fit and nopony will be pulling us over for speeding, yes?"

The car rocked as its tires fell in and out of potholes, causing the pile of cargo to shift against Laura's side. She caught a bundle of letters as they slipped off of the top.

Gavi sighed and told her, "Sorry, please move things and make yourself comfortable, eh?"

She nodded as he turned his head forward.

The cargo shifted ominously a few more times before they drove onto the road and it smoothed out. Laura began moving things around and her ears twitched at the high pitched 'tick tick tick' of the car's turn signal. She wondered why on earth he'd bother, until she remembered Chick. She peered between boxes at what little of the rear window she could see. It was fogging up but she could make out the dark shape of his motorcycle tailing them. Gavi switched on the car's fan, though it only blew chilly air at first.

Laura was still shivering by the time they reached the motorway, drove straight through the toll gates and up the sliproad.

"So…" Buttercup asked Gavi, "Know any good stories about Chick?"

Gavi barked a few raucous laughs and shook his head. "Oh, more than a few. I tell you what. You give me the story of your travels and I spill a few of 'is less embarrassing adventures, oui?"

Buttercup grumbled, "Awww… I wanna hear the really embarrassing stuff!"

He clucked his tongue, which sounded oddly hollow coming from a beak. "Some things you just don't speak of around ladies. Now, do we 'ave a deal?"

"Okaaay." Buttercup poked her damp yellow face around the seat and told Laura, "You should start since Chick picked you up before he showed up at my farm."

"Alright, just a moment." Laura finished dragging a sack of something into the foot well and twisted around on the seat trying to find a comfortable position. She ended up with her forelegs resting on the heaped cargo with her rump lower down on the damp seat cushion.

"Hmmm… For me this all started when my fiance, Thomas, asked me to vacation in Canada with him. He wasn't my fiance at the time but we'd been dating for several months. We met in France while skiing at Val Thorens."

She settled into telling her story as the car's interior began to get toasty at last.

The last soulful notes of piano faded to silence beneath the constant roar of their tires on the road and rain hitting the windscreen.

Laura yawned, ducking her head down behind a crooked foreleg. If only it weren't so uncomfortable in the crowded backseat, she might doze off. Riding in a car was the most familiar thing she'd experienced since Returning and she felt very relaxed and, well, 'normal'.

Gavi pressed a button on the car's stereo and it ejected the most recent CD he'd treated them to. Soft jazz by an ensemble called Fourplay.

She heard Buttercup stir on the seat in front of her, sitting up and yawning loudly, smacking her lips.

Gavi chuckled while carefully tucking the CD into a sleeve of them that was mounted to his sun visor. "A little too relaxing for you?"

Buttercup grunted and asked, "You got anything a little more… I dunno, loud and fun?"

"Oh? You mean perhaps rock music? Led Zeppelin? AC/DC? The Rolling Stones?"

"Yeah! Yeah, one of those would be awesome!"

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Non, sorry. I like soft, soothing music and do not 'ave anything like that in my little collection 'ere. You 'ave the same taste as Chick." He snorted — a quiet thing compared with a pony snort — and said, "You would think running a café for years 'e would 'ave learned to love jazz, but non. You 'ave no requests then? 'Ow about a little Enya?"

"How about another story about you and Chick?" Buttercup asked while bouncing on her seat.

He groaned and quietly muttered something to himself. "You 'ave already 'eard everything I am comfortable telling you, little bird. 'Ow about you tell me another story, eh?"

"Has he ever dated?"

Laura wished she could un-speak that question! She wasn't even sure why she'd blurted it out, except, she was actually a tiny bit curious.

"Dated?!" Gavi turned his head sideways so he could cock a brown-feathered eyebrow at her.

Buttercup bounced even more energetically on her seat and Laura could hear the grin in her voice. "Yeah! Tell us a story about him dating somepony! But it's gotta be uber embarrassing so I can annoy him 'bout it!"

Gavi hummed to himself as he looked back at the road. After an awkward moment of silence he said, "Well, I 'ave nothing to tell you. 'E 'as never 'ad a marefriend so long as I 'ave known 'im."

There was something about his voice… Some pitch or hesitation or something, but Laura would swear he was telling a white lie. Her brows furrowed as that mote of curiosity grew a little brighter.

Buttercup gasped and asked, "What?! Never?"

"Non. Not as far as I know. 'E is not my… What is the word? 'Room friend'?"

"Room mate?" asked Laura.

"Yes, that is it. 'E is not my room mate. My 'ome and family are in Grand-Sault, where I will be 'eaded once I am finished 'ere. Chick rents a place in Beantown and I will not see 'im again until the spring. 'E may 'ave a 'erd of mares for all I know but 'e never mentions it so I don't think so."

"I guess he really is gay then", said Buttercup in a satisfied tone.

Gavi's cawing laugh filled the car, and it swerved a little before he got himself under control.

"'E is not gay."

Buttercup whined, "How do you know if-"

"'Is wife… she passed away before the Event. 'E is not gay. Now, somepony 'ad better start telling a story or I am playing the Enya."

"Hey! Wake up! We're nearly there", Buttercup said while shaking Laura's shoulder.

"Mmh… What?"

Laura leaned back from where she'd slumped over the cargo after dozing off. One of her hind legs was numb, and she wiggled into a more upright seating position while enduring a jaw-cracking yawn.

Buttercup stood up in her seat so she could look over the headrest. She grinned and repeated, "We're there! Almost."

"Mmmm… wonderful."

She stretched as much as the cramped conditions would allow and an electric shiver ran down her hide. Laura smacked her lips together and tried to work up a little spittle in her dry mouth. She must have just the worst breath! Ugh.

She squinted and peered out the window. The rain slacked to a drizzle, but it was still a very grey day and getting darker by the moment as the sun set. A very British view. She smiled but felt a little homesick. Gavi honked his horn twice and there was a high-pitched beep-beep in reply before a light blue car whipped by going the other way. A pair of small lorries following the car howled past.

Traffic! Oh my Lord! They'd arrived at civilisation at last!

She craned her stiff neck to look out the rear window and saw Chick was still back there, following them into Beantown with his motorcycle's bright headlamp switched on.

Laura turned around and couldn't help mirroring Buttercup's happy grin.

Gavi chuckled and pointed a claw. "That is where we are 'eaded. The Unicorn Tower. It is where all new ponies like you 'ave to go to when they arrive in town. Lucky for me it is also where I 'ave to make a delivery."

Laura tried to see, but it was on the left-hand side and she couldn't get a clear view with headrests and cargo in the way. Buttercup's impressed and breathy 'Coool' had Laura imaging some tall ivory tower, topped with a golden onion dome. The world had gone strangely magical so it very well might be!

The rusting metal armco barrier alongside the sliproad and dull concrete of the overpass they drove beneath brought her fantasies back down to earth. There was no way ponies would invest time into building a palace when there were hundreds of empty buildings to colonize.

Would they?

Gavi pointed to a sign, again on the wrong side of the car. She glimpsed 'Unicorn Park' in white letters and it was surrounded by colourful flickering lights, like a cloud of multi-hued fire flies. And cut grass. Someone had taken the time to trim the little hillock that the sign was on. They turned left onto a road just past the sign and it looked like that one patch of manicured grass was the only thing being maintained. Wild forest and familiar patches of wild scrub lined the road and surrounded abandoned red-brick office blocks on either side. She saw quite a few smashed in windows.

They swerved around a roundabout and into a parking lot.

Gavi pulled up beside a portico that stretched out into the lot. The parking brake made a metallic ratcheting sound as he pulled it up but he kept the engine running. "Welcome to Beantown, ladies." He opened his door and slid out, landing on all four, but quickly ducked his head back inside to say, "'Old on a moment and I will-"

Buttercup didn't hold anything! She dove out of her chair, bounced off of the driver's seat, and shot past Gavi as he ducked.

Laura laughed as he shook his head and the corner of his beak quirked up in a smile.

He walked around the car and opened her door as Chick slowly rode past. The ground looked so far away and Laura's leg was all tingling pins-and-needles.

Gavi held out a leathery yellow hand, careful of his sharp claws and asked, "Would you like a 'and?"

"Oh, thank you."

She placed a hoof in his grip, not feeling even a little afraid of him any more. Between them she managed to carefully but clumsily step down on to the slabs of paving stone beneath the portico's roof.

Chick pulled up in the parking space on the other side of the portico, coming to a squeaking stop beside a silver Tesla. The contrast between its sleek, futuristic lines and his Russian-industrial motorcycle was almost painful. He flipped a switch on the handle bars and it grumbled into silence.

He clambered down and walked over with stiff legs.

"Ooh… I'm going to be stiff in the morning." He slipped off his helmet and grinned as water dripped from the end of his matted chin fur. "Welcome to Beantown!" He glanced around and asked, "Where's Buttercup?"

Laura glanced at Gavi and he pointed up with a clawed finger.

"Heh, that figures." Chick stretched one of his hind legs and groaned as a joint popped loudly. "Well, I can't blame her for wanting to stretch after that. But we should get you ladies checked in and drop off our deliveries to the Tower, eh?"

He stiffly trotted to the edge of the portico and looked up into the sky. After a moment he whistled and yelled, "Buttercup! Come on!"

Laura looked around while they waited, and this Tower was not in fact a tower. It was clean and none of the cheerfully glowing windows were broken, but it was unmistakably a mid-range hotel made of red and beige brick. Not as impressive as her fantasy. The neatly maintained grounds, trimmed bushes, cute rings of pink flowers around the pillars supporting the portico's roof, and general cleanliness were a welcome relief after many days of travelling through ruins.

Oh, she hoped they had hot baths and a restaurant!

"Buttercuuup!"

Laura asked Gavi, "Where is everyone?"

He smiled and shrugged. "I guess they are 'iding from the weather though not many ponies come out this way." He waved a hand at the building. "The Tower is a government office and 'alf-way 'ome for new arrivals. Most of the town live a short walk from 'ere."

"Butterrr- AH! Merde, don't do that!"

Laura glanced at Chick. He was scowling and looking straight up. A grinning yellow face peered down at them from the roof.

Buttercup giggled and swooped down to land with a clatter of hooves. "Gotcha! Nopony expects sneaky wings from above."

Chick rolled his eyes and then raised a hoof to protect his face as Buttercup shook like a dog.

"Yes, yes. Fine. Come on, let's get inside."

Someone had etched the name 'Unicorn Tower' in a florid script on the dark-tinted glass door

Buttercup cocked her head to one side and said, "It's not a tower. Is it? Thought those were more like silos?"

Chick chuckled and said, "No it isn't. But this whole neighbourhood was called Unicorn Park back in the day and some wise-ass unicorn decided to make his home in this hotel early on after the Event."

The edges of the door glowed green, and slid to one side revealing a turquoise unicorn stallion with a white and dark green striped mane. He wore a dark green jacket that matched his mane and the crisply pressed collar of a white shirt was buttoned tight around his slim neck.

"Oh, speak of the devil. Hey, Festi!""

The unicorn squinted and said, "You know that my name is Festigimbal, Mr. Whiskers, and I've repeatedly requested that you use it. I won't allow new residents to think that your brutish manners are acceptable."

Chick grinned impishly as Gavi tipped his head and said, "'Allo, Festigimbal. It is good to see you again."

Festigimbal nodded back and said, "Hello to you, Mr. Farber. I trust your journey was not too unpleasant?" He turned a tight, practised smile on Laura and Buttercup. "And you are?"

Laura opened her mouth to reply but Buttercup beat her to it.

"Hi! I'm Dragonbane and she's Laura."

"Dragonbane?" asked Gavi before making an odd awk sound at the back of his throat. The feathers on his head rose up in a crest.

Chick just groaned, closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Sure! New town, new name!"

Festigimbal sniffed and said, "I do not think our remaining resident dragon will appreciate such a brutish moniker."

Chick glared and said, "Her name is Buttercup! Now may we come inside, please?"

Festigimbal pursed his lips and for a moment Laura thought he might ask them to remove their damp and filthy selves from his nice, clean hotel. But he stepped aside and waved them inside.

"Please enter and be welcome at the Unicorn Tower. I hope you will enjoy your stay."

As they walked inside, Laura noticed that he had a white tower blazoned on his backside. It looked rather like the white chess rook.

Laura had stayed in some quite luxurious and expensive hotels and the Unicorn Tower's lobby was nothing special. Oh, it was nice enough. Clean and well maintained but the blue carpet with swirly white patterns was looking rather threadbare and one or two of the lights appeared to be burnt out.

Festigimbal called to a pair of all-black stallions who were lounging on beige chairs in the lobby's waiting area. "Scritch. Scratch. Fetch a pair of luggage carts and help these gentlemen unload."

They jumped up and galloped off through a door beside the reception desk.

There was something odd about them but Laura couldn't put her finger on it. Hoof. Whatever.

"Ladies, if you could follow me please? I will get you checked in and assign you your rooms."

Gavi and Chick waited by the door as they followed Festigimbal to the reception desk. It looked as though someone had neatly sliced the bottom half off, lowering its top down to where it was comfortable for a pony to use. Attached to the wall behind it was a polished mahogany board with rows of golden hooks, most with a golden necklace hanging from them. Little pendants of gold, silver, and gems hung glittering on each one.

A thick book and a pen floated up from the desk in Festigimbal's green magic and Laura couldn't help grinning a little at the pretty display of magic.

"Your names, please?" He glanced meaningfully at Buttercup, "Your real names."

"Fiiine! It's Buttercup. For now." She pouted and shot a glare across the lobby at Chick, who ignored her.

"And where did you Return, Miss Buttercup?"

"Oh, I didn't. I'm just passing through on my way to Alexandria. Do I still get a room?"

Festigimbal nodded and his pen whisked across the page, guided by a glow of magic. "Yes. We have several ponies waiting for the journey staying with us right now. We provide temporary lodging for all transients such as yourself as well as potential citizens."

Buttercup bounced happily and flapped her wings. "YES! We didn't miss it!"

"No, indeed." He smiled at Laura and asked, "And your name, please?"

"Laura Leanora Smith."

"L. E. A. N. O. R. A?" Laura nodded. "And where did you Return?"

"A small town in New Brunswick called Welsford."

He made a note of it and asked, "You're British?"

"Yes, I'm from London. I was on vacation when the Event happened."

"Ah. So there isn't much point in my next question but I shall ask, anyway. Do you have any local relatives you'd like us to check on? To see if they may have Returned?"

"Actually, I do!"

His eyebrows shot up in comical surprise. "Really?"

Laura told him a briefly of their vacation, Thomas' proposal just before the Event, and how he had rescued her from certain death. The two black stallions returned, each pushing an empty wooden trolley through the door beside the reception desk. They and the boys stepped outside as she finished her tale.

"My, that is heart-warming. I'm certain the mayor's staff will be overjoyed to help you reunite with your fiance. What did you say his name was?"

"Thomas Davies. Do you have a hospital?" Tom would almost certainly be working there.

Festigimbal nodded while writing down his name. "We do indeed and a very well-trained staff who are dedicated to maintaining the health of all of our citizens. Beantown-", he looked a little sour at saying the name, "-is one of the most comfortable and safe towns to make your home. But I'm sure the mayor and her staff will be pleased to tell you of the many benefits of choosing to make your second life here. Unfortunately, they have finished work for the day but somepony should be in tomorrow morning to interview you."

He winked as the book floated back onto the desk. "I imagine you'll be eager to stay once we locate your beau, yes?"

"Oh, yes!" Laura grinned happily, warmed through by the thought of seeing Thomas again. She felt her tail wagging and flushed in embarrassment at Buttercup and the hotel manager's knowing grins.

"Here are your room keys."

Festigimbal brought two of the necklaces down from the wall and his magic tingled on Laura's neck as he settled it around her. A bell on the desk chimed suddenly making Buttercup jump. A moment later a small black pegasus mare zoomed down the stairs into the lobby and skidded to a stop on the carpet.

"You rang?" she asked in a squeaky voice.

"Obviously", Festigimbal rolled his eyes and gestured at Laura and Buttercup. "Conduct our guests to rooms three-oh-five and three-oh-six."

"Yes, Sir." The little pegasus turned to Laura and Buttercup and asked, "Do you have any bags to be taken to your rooms?"

Laura noticed a gold-coloured name badge on her tight green jacket. "Thank you, Tiffany", she waved a hoof at the entrance. "But I'll have to fetch it from Chick's… Oh! Never mind."

She trotted towards the door as Chick lumbered inside carrying her rolled up sleeping bag in his mouth. Both Buttercup's and her saddlebags bulged at his sides and Buttercup's large pillows were piled on his back. You could hardly see him under all that!

He stepped aside as the twin black stallions pushed loaded trolleys through the door with Gavi following behind them.

Chick dropped the sleeping bag and said, "Sorry but your things are a little damp."

Laura grabbed one of the pillows and slid it off of his back. The tassels along its edge dripped water.

"Oh, that's fine. I imagine we'll be sleeping in beds tonight." She hoped so, anyway!

"Please leave them here and I'll have the cleaning staff look after them for you", chirped the friendly concierge as she tugged the other pillow from his back. She raised an eyebrow at the matted and filthy mass lurking beneath the pillows.

Laura bit her lip and reluctantly grabbed her filthy cardi between her hooves and tossed it on top of the pillows. She hoped that the hotel's cleaning staff could work miracles!

"They got no cutie marks!" yelped Buttercup.

What?

The twin black ponies were standing beside the carts loaded with packages, letters, and unmarked sacks. Buttercup stared with no shame at their backsides, which Laura realised were completely blank. Just glossy black fur. That must have been what seemed off about them earlier though their blank expressions were also rather unsettling.

Gavi chuckled and said, "Non, of course not. These 'elpful fellows are drones." He clapped his hands and ordered the two stallions, "Take these carts to the mayor's office and leave them by 'er assistant's desk. You understand, yes?"

They nodded in unison and began pushing the carts out of the lobby and down one of the hallways to where the first-floor rooms would be.

"Well…", said Gavi as he turned to address them all, "Business is finished for today and I am 'ungry enough to eat a 'orse." He cackled and winked, "So to speak. Perhaps we meet for lunch tomorrow before I 'ead 'ome?"

Laura pushed the dozens of questions about the black 'drones' to the back of her mind. She glanced between Gavi and Chick and asked, "You're not staying?"

Chick shook his head as he hoofed over Buttercup's saddlebags to Tiffany, who already had Laura's colourful Dora the Explorer bags on her back. "No, we'll be staying at apartments nearby. There's a road just north of the hotel. Cross the highway and it's the first driveway on your left. I'm sure the mayor will want to talk with both of you in the morning and we have deliveries to finish, but we should we meet for lunch before Gavi leaves. Cherry Pie's restaurant is right there in the apartment complex and she is a wonderful baker."

Laura's tummy grumbled, reminding her that she'd only had a light snack of honey-soaked seed cakes and water while riding in the back of Gavi's car. Delicious, but not very filling. She glanced at Buttercup who just shrugged.

"We'll see you at lunch then", she assured Chick.

"Good. Have a pleasant evening."

"Merci. You too."

He smiled and nodded before following Gavi outside.

"If you'll follow me, please?"

Laura pulled her eyes away from the door as Festigimbal's magic slid it closed. Tiffany beaconed with a wing before tucking it awkwardly against the bulging saddlebags resting against her sides.

She led them to the stairs and said, "Sorry that we have to take the stairs but we don't have enough power to run the elevators today."

"It's fine", Laura had to keep an eye on her hooves as they climbed the stairs. Steps designed for human legs were a little awkward for her small and four-legged body. She hoped the elevators were running in the morning! Questions about those drones rose up again, and she risked a glance at the black mare's flank. She at least had a cutie mark. Two squiggly white lines which looked like the outline of a chalice or two human faces, depending on how you looked at it.

Plodding up the stairs brought home to her just how tired and achy she felt after the long journey to Beantown. Even Buttercup's normally high spirits seemed to be flagging as they followed Tiffany down a corridor lined with numbered doors.

A peach coloured mare with her green and blue mane tucked up inside of a towel stuck her head out as they passed by her door.

"Tif! Can we get a few more towels, please?"

Tiffany nodded and replied cheerfully, "They'll be sent right up, Mrs. Lee."

"Thank you, dear." The mare nodded to Laura and Buttercup before ducking back inside.

"Here we are", Tiffany said as she stopped in front of a door with the numbers '305' in brass letters that had been polished to a golden sheen. She gestured to the door lever with one of her wings and said, "Just touch it with your necklace to unlock and lock your room."

A brass disk much higher on the door covered where the lever handle must have been when humans stayed here.

Buttercup leaned in close and used a hoof to press the necklace against the handle. There was a mechanical click, and she pushed down on the lever. The heavy door swung open silently.

"Swanky!"

Laura waited in the hall as they went inside and switched on the lights. A moment later Tiffany emerged, still wearing Laura's saddlebags.

"Room three-oh-six for you, Miss Smith." She nodded to the opposite door.

"Thank you."

Her necklace's moonstone unlocked the door. The room was fairly standard fare for a mid-range hotel: beige and brown checker-board patterned carpet underhoof; an open door into a washroom and sliding closet doors next to the entrance; a couple of brown cushioned chairs by the window; a queen-sized bed that dominated the room, side tables and lamps on either side. It was so crisp and clean smelling! Tiffany flicked on the lights as Laura walked into the middle of the room and spun around, taking it all in. It felt so very, very normal that an almost painful wave of relief and nostalgia rolled through her. Having travelled extensively before meeting Thomas, Laura had spent many days in hotel rooms similar to this. Though she wasn't used to seeing them from the height of a child and she would have to jump up onto the mattress when it was time to go to bed.

Tiffany slipped off the saddlebags and left them by the closet doors. Her brilliant white smile contrasted sharply with her dark furred face. "Would you like to order a meal? Our chef is excellent and has been champing at the bit to prepare fancy food for guests rather than the usual fare for our pony staff."

"Umm…", Laura thought for a moment and asked, "I don't suppose they could make me Eggs Benedict?"

Tiffany's smile grew a little wider, "Breakfast for dinner? That sounds lovely. Oh, I'm certain he is up to the challenge. May I suggest a pot of mint tea and a slice of peach pie with cream for dessert?"

"Yes, please!" Laura's tummy gurgled its agreement.

"I'll just ask what Miss Buttercup would like and you should have your meals shortly. I'll also order hot water be brought up so you may bathe."

"Thank you so much!"

There was an awkward pause as Tiffany sat there, smiling and apparently waiting for something.

Oh!

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry but I don't have anything to tip you with." The pearls in her saddlebags would be an exorbitantly generous tip!

Tiffany tittered and held out her forelegs. "How about a hug then?"

Laura blinked.

"Umm… Alright."

She did enjoy hugs and gingerly stepped between Tiffany's outstretched legs. The pegasus was warm and had a light scent of roses, making Laura worry that she must reek after going so long without a proper wash.

Tiffany didn't seem to mind. She hummed happily and squeezed Laura's shoulders before stepping back.

"Thank you. Your gratitude and happiness is the only coin you'll need while you are staying with us. Please relax and enjoy every amenity we offer here at the Unicorn Tower."

"I will. Thank you, Tiffany."

Tiffany left with a perky trot, closing the door behind her.

Now that she was alone Laura just wanted to jump up onto the bed, crawl under the comforter and sleep for a week! That little nap in the car had left her even more tired, but she was filthy and didn't want to make a mess. A bath! Oh, she was so giddy at the thought! She pranced over to the large jacuzzi tucked away in an alcove next to the bed. Small bottles of sweet smelling shampoo and several scrubbing brushes waited on its rim and someone had added a row of wood steps leading up to and down into the deep tub. Laura twisted a tap handle using that grippy-hoof magic, but no water came out. Wait. Hadn't Tiffany said something about having water brought up?

"Isn't this place awesome?"

Laura huffed impatiently. It would be much more awesome with running water! She turned around, her hooves clacking on the tiles around the bathing area as Buttercup flew across the room to peer through the window at the dark sky.

"This town… No! This city is huuuge", she breathed causing the window to fog up a little.

Laura couldn't help smiling at the filly's naivety. If only she could somehow transport her to London, back before the Event, and give her a guided tour of a truly large metropolis. Or even visit New York City which was much closer. But it didn't sound like a safe place to be a tourist any more… if it ever had been.

Laura hopped up into one of the comfy chairs by the window, turned around on the soft cushion a couple of times, and settled down with a contented sigh.

Buttercup flitted over to the other chair and settled in. She smiled a bit like a cat might, squinting her eyes closed into happy arcs.

After a few moments of quiet she tentatively asked, "Ummmmm… Can I eat dinner with you?"

Laura chuckled. "Yes, of course. I was going to leave my door unlocked in case you might sneak over in the middle of the night. Are you still feeling homesick?"

"Kinda… I'm really glad I didn't miss the trip to Alexandria, but it's gonna be lonely without you and Chick."

"Oh, I'm sure there will be ponies you can get to know along the way. Perhaps you'll be attending school with them. But I will miss you as well.

"Did you want to stay overnight?"

Buttercup nodded eagerly.

Laura laughed and said, "Alright. We'd better let Tiffany know we only need the one room."

"I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine?"

"What?"

"You're gonna have a bath, right?"

Laura felt her lips tense in a frown as her ears rotated flat against her head.

Buttercup waved her hooves and quickly said, "It's easier having somepony else scrub your back, right? And my back is so itchy! And I have a hard time getting between my wings! You don't have to-" Her voice grew higher pitched and slightly frantic as she pleaded.

"Alright. Alright, you've convinced me."

Laura exhaled a resigned sigh as her vision of floating serenely in scented bubbles popped.

"You bathed with your siblings as well?"

Buttercup nodded with a pleased smile on her muzzle. "Yup! Sometimes Mama and Papa too but I'm getting too old for that. Like I said; it's a lot easier having somepony help you and Auntie Twinkle can't scrub everypony."

Laura chuckled and said, "I suppose only unicorns can use a brush on their own back, mmm?"

She wasn't keen on the idea but it did make sense. Unfortunately. It wasn't much more overly intimate than when they'd had to search one another for ticks and here they were, sitting around chatting while completely naked, and she hadn't even thought to be bothered by it. She was going native but still hoped her cardigan could be salvaged.

It might be the only thing Thomas would recognise.

There was a polite tapping on the half-open door.

"Come in", Laura called.

A small black unicorn stallion with bright yellow streaks in his mane entered, followed by one of those large all-black 'drone' ponies with a pair of bamboo trays balanced on his back. The black horn jutting out in front of the unicorn's puffy white chef's hat glowed green and a small folding table slipped out from under the bed.

With a click-clack the legs flipped down, and it settled onto the carpet.

"Good evening", the chef smiled pleasantly as he floated one of the trays off of the other pony's back and down onto the table. "Eggs Benedict for Miss Smith?"

Laura hopped down and trotted to the low table as the delicious scents of eggs, toast, Hollandaise sauce, and mint drew her like a magnet. A smaller tray with a silver tea pot, cup, and little pots of honey and milk came to rest on the table. With a flourish the chef lifted the silver dome off of her plate and the delicious scents magnified to mouthwatering levels.

Laura sat and leaned over the plate, sniffing delicately with her eyes closed. Mmmm…

"Miss Buttercup? If you return to your room I will-"

Buttercup plunked herself down at the other end of the table and said, "I'm gonna eat here."

"Of course."

The remaining tray floated gently down to the table and the silver dome lifted revealing a steaming bowl of yellow soup with little blobs of oil floating on the surface.

"Is that?" Laura swallowed a slight feeling of nausea.

"Chicken noodle soup", the chef announced as another dome lifted. "And grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Alright!" Buttercup's feathers somehow managed to grip the over-sized padded handle on the spoon and she dipped it into the bowl. Torn between envy and disgust, Laura watched her greedily scoop a spoonful of noodles with a small lump of white meat into her muzzle.

Too stunned to dig into her own meal, Laura asked, "I… I thought we didn't eat meat?"

Buttercup shrugged and licked her lips. "We can eat a little. Mistral kills one of her chickens and makes soup when somepony is hurt or depressed. It's kinda gross the first time you gotta eat it but somehow it always makes you feel better. But yeah…" She scooped up another spoonful and blew on it. "Eating a lotta meat will make you puke and puke and puke."

It sounded like she was speaking from bitter experience.

"Please, enjoy." The chef waved a hoof for Laura to dig in.

"Ummm…" Laura picked up a fork and tried carefully prying open the sauce-covered American muffin to peer inside. "There's no bacon in this, is there?"

"Oh, no", the chef assured her. "We only cook with meat if a pony requests it. That is made with thin slices of smoked mushroom."

Feeling an odd mix of relief and disappointment, she cut a portion off with the fork's edge and clumsily shovelled it into her muzzle. Laura wiggled and squealed a little in delight as the creamy, smoky, savoury flavour hit her tongue.

More!

Her fork scraped on the plate as she eagerly cut another portion.

The chef and… Scratch? Scritch? They stood near the little table, watching them closely. The chef licked his lips and smiled, his intense green eyes twinkling in the room's warm yellow lights. The 'drone' loomed behind him with all the presence of a cow standing in a field.

Laura cocked a curious eyebrow while chewing. His warm smile didn't falter at all but he at least seemed to get the message that his hovering was a little distracting.

He nodded and wished them, "Bon appetite. Come along, Scritch."

When he turned to leave, Laura saw that his cutie mark was a yellow 'M' shape made of two curves. He had a McDonald's logo on his rump! For an instant she was tempted to get a closer look to see if there was a little 'TM'.

"I said, come along!"

A green glow formed around Scritch's chin and tore his placid gaze from Buttercup. She was noisily tearing a huge bite from one of her grilled sandwiches and long strings of melted cheese dangled from her muzzle.

Shaking her head, Laura turned her attention back to her meal.

"That's how they eat", said Buttercup around her mouthful.

"I'm sorry?"

"Changelings. They don't eat like we do." She dunked the end of her sandwich in the soup. "They work around town and eat the happy emotions that ponies feel 'cause a changeling did something nice for 'em. S'what Chick told me anyway."

Laura's loaded fork hesitated before her muzzle. "That's-", she wanted to say 'insane' but another obvious word presented itself. "Magic?"

Buttercup nodded emphatically. "Yup! They're really ugly and gross when they're not disguised as a regular pony. I gotta see that!"

They ate quietly, well, Laura was quiet. Buttercup made frequent happy sounds and seemed incapable of chewing with her mouth closed.

"So, that chef? He was a changeling?"

Buttercup nodded.

"And Tiffany?" Touching her hadn't felt different from any other pony Laura had met.

Buttercup shrugged.

Well, that did explain tipping with hugs. How queer everything is here, as Alice might remark. Though this post-apocalypse world was no Wonderland, the hotel service was wonderful regardless of the odd creatures responsible.

A knock at the door announced the arrival of their bath water.

Author's Note

I'm not sure what to write as an Author's Note... Cross Lament suggested "Buy my powdered spit, suckers!" :rainbowlaugh:

In case anyone who reads this is also following Daeling with Yt: I'm taking it off hiatus. It may be a while before I post a new chapter though, as I'm re-writing it from the beginning. I'll post v2 of the first few chapters soon.

As always, please PM me if you spot any errors. I'm trying out ProWritingAid and it seems better than the free version of Grammarly so far... that it will open and edit Scrivener files is a huge plus just on its own!

Thank you for reading. :twilightsmile:

Now with edits from the eagle-eyed Conflicting views, Cross Lament and Dances With Unicorns. :twilightsmile:

2018-11-16: Minor edit -- added Gavi mentioning that Chick was married.

9 - Thomas?

Author's Note

WARNING: This chapter pushes the 'teen' rating. There's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about sweaty ponies and vague mentions of their unmentionables then you should stop here.

Map of Route, Chapters 5 - 8: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1diNpuQdfNcSB3cN5nFf3X-Oa8mU
Map of Beantown: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1F6UCKaHNPs50NwLMB7_eZscafZg

As always, please PM me if you spot any typos or other errors. :twilightsmile:

Now with edits courtesy of Dances With Unicorns

9 - Thomas?

Mrs. Quick Quill was touch typing, somehow. Her hooves hovered over the keyboard, moving to and fro, up and down, brushing over the clicking keys.

It was fascinating to watch, a little like having a front-row seat view of a skilled violinist's fingers. The skewbald brown and white mare had amazingly fine control of her hoof magic. But Laura had grown bored with watching. She'd been trapped in this small office for ages! Waiting while Buttercup was interviewed and then spending at least an hour giving Quill her name, pre-Event information, family history, and telling her the story of how she'd travelled to Beantown.

There was a form to fill in and sign so Chicken Whiskers would get his precious head-hunting bonus. Quill said that he'd get the Basic Resident Referral amount for now, until Laura had found her hooves in Beantown's economy. He might get a little or a lot more depending on how valuable her contribution was assessed. No pressure. Quill showed her a map of the town and pointed out the nearest farms — converted golf courses. She seemed put out by Laura's lack of enthusiasm for farming and advised that she would be happiest in a career that suited her flower cutie mark.

Laura had nodded and thanked her for the advice. She just wanted to get through this quickly so they could help her find Thomas! All she needed was an address, his home or work, and she'd be out of here like a shot!

The office was a converted guest room at the hotel and felt rather homey if overcrowded. Three desks lined up in a row, each corralled with a screen of thin orange 'open plan' office dividers. Filing cabinets lined one wall with wrapped blocks of paper stacked on top. Now and then a printer would clatter, load a sheet of paper, and whine for a few minutes before spitting out a page. The noise drowned out the hushed conversation between the other two mares busy with clerical work. They were sorting and processing the mound of letter and paperwork that Chick and Gavi had delivered when they weren't listening in with pricked ears to Laura's conversation with Quick Quill.

Laura sipped her cooling cup of rose-hip tea and tried to still her impatiently tapping rear hoof.

"There, I think that's everything", said Quick Quill. She settled back in her creaky chair and smiled warmly at Laura. "You've certainly had quite an adventure, Miss Smith. I'm very happy that things ended on a friendly note with Deck."

Laura had glossed over the fight. She didn't want to recall the surreal moment when she'd felt Deck's fragile head under her hoof.

"I may not have appreciated our draconic residents while they resided here but Deck was one of the nicest — for a dragon. And the way your fiancee planned ahead to save you. Just amazing!"

Laura bit back a sigh and said, "Yes, I've been very fortunate since I Returned."

Quill chuckled. "Oh, you had a helping hoof from our little office as well. You see, we helped plan the routes that the Scavengers travel in order to increase the odds of finding lost ponies. Though I suppose you owe your gratitude more to Grand Falls' Office of Returnee Affairs since they handle the area where you met Chicken Whiskers.

"Anyway, that's everything I need for today. Unless you remembered something about your cutie mark? We'll find you an excellent career in Beantown but it would help if we knew more about your Talent."

Laura shifted a little, tucking her reincarnated cardigan around her backside. "I'm afraid that's all I know. It's a flower with a heart-shaped ruby blossom." It was bizarre how quickly her shyness had returned once she had something to wear again.

Quill hmm'd and gave a decisive nod. "Well, it's obviously something to do with agriculture — since you are an earth pony."

Quill was an earth pony but her cutie mark of an olde tyme ink pot and white feather pen didn't have anything to do with farming. Laura envied her though she didn't want to work in an office either. She hoped Beantown had a community of artists and writers to meet and maybe find a job with. Somehow. What a flower had to do with Art she had no idea but grubbing around in a field was just not on!

"Well, we'll get you out in the fields with one of our tutors and I'm certain they will help you figure it out. Now, about your fiancee…"

Laura's ears twitched and she sat up a little straighter. Finally! "Yes?"

"I'll check our citizen files."

Quill slipped off of her chair and plodded over to the row of cabinets and gazed at them for a moment before standing up on her hind legs and sliding open a drawer. She flipped through the folder tabs with dexterous hooves.

Laura scooted forward to sit on the edge of her seat and set her teacup down on the desk before she could drop it. Her hooves were shaking.

"Mmm, nothing for a 'Davies, Thomas'."

The loud clang as the drawer slid shut nearly startled a scream of frustration out of Laura.

Quill looked over her shoulder. "Does he go by any other name?"

Laura shook her head and whined, "Not that I know of." She bit her lip so hard that it hurt.

"Darn. Well, I suppose it's not surprising." Quill carefully walked around the mound of paperwork and back to her desk. "Nopony kept records in the early years and he's probably taken a pony name by now."

Laura groaned. Why wasn't anything ever easy?

"Don't you worry now, hon", Quill said in a patronising tone as she sat down. "The girls and I can hunt through the files and cross reference the description you gave me. There can't be that many unicorn stallions with a pacifier for a cutie mark, now, can there?"

"No, I suppose not." She licked her lips and asked, "How long do you think it will take?"

"Not long at all. But it's going to be all hooves on deck for a couple of days to deal with this." Quill waved a hoof at the disorganised pile and said, "There's a few hundred letters to sort and deliver, and all the inter-town paperwork to get through before the caravan leaves for Alexandria. To top it off, we've got an election to win! Just between you and me…" She leaned close and half-whispered, "Light Spark doesn't stand a chance and Daisy Duke might as well go back to the Hive. Nopony's dumb enough to vote for a changeling!"

"I… suppose not?" It seemed like the polite thing to say.

Quill chuckled as she sat back. "They'd have to be drunk out of their minds to hoof over the pony-half of our government to Queen Bean. Nopony's that dumb."

Trying to get things back on track, Laura asked, "Is there anything I can do to help speed things up?"

"The paperwork or finding your stallion?" She chuckled and said, "Well, you might try asking around in town. Somepony may remember him or, who knows, you might just bump into one another. Wouldn't that be a perfect fairy-tale ending, hmm? Now, you go on and let me and the girls get this done as quick as we can, okay? Drop by tomorrow afternoon and maybe we'll have a chance to catch our breaths and give you a helping hoof."

She held out one of her large hooves and Laura politely tapped it before hopping down from the chair.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, thank you."

Quill absently nodded while fiddling with her laptop's mouse and squinting at the screen.

Laura grabbed her pink saddlebags, flopped them over her back, and tugged her cardigan a little tighter around her sides.

Festigimbal sat at the reception desk and nodded to her as she trotted through the lobby. His magic slid open the door as she walked towards it.

A cool front moved in after the storm, making Laura extra grateful to have her clothing back. The black 'unicorn' who'd delivered it to her room this morning would probably enjoy snacking on that feeling. That disturbing thought, and the cool air, made her coat shiver.

Chick's motorcycle and Gavi's white car were gone. In the parking lot a dozen or so ponies clustered around a tall beige pegasus stallion giving a speech.

"-bring two bags each, no more than about twenty pounds per bag, and a carry-on. The bags go in the Fair Dinkum's hold and you won't be able to get to 'em while we're on the move. We tie up at night so it's fair game then. Keep anything you need during the day in your carry-on, which you'll stow in your cabins on the Freedom. Any questions?"

Mrs. Lee, the peach coloured mare with a green and blue mane who Laura had seen last night in the hotel, raised a hoof and asked, "How will cabins be assigned? I'd like to stay with my husband and foal."

"That shouldn't be a problem. You'll be assigned a cabin together when we get to the boats. Is any pony here travelling alone?"

Most of the gathering raised their hooves, including Buttercup who was hovering in the air. The stallion's lips moved as he pointed at ponies with a hoof and counted them.

Laura sat on the grass nearby and Buttercup swooped down to land beside her.

Laura nudged her and whispered, "I'm surprised you aren't flying around, investigating the town."

"What makes you think I didn't?" Buttercup whispered back with a grin while ruffling her wings, hoof still held up. "You were in there a long time, y'know."

Laura sighed. She knew.

"We assign cabins by gender, so you two-", the beige stallion waved a hoof at the two unaccompanied stallions in the group, "-will have plenty of space. Sorry but you mares will be more crowded. If you have somepony you want to room with — or not — you'd better let our steward know. We'll try to accommodate everypony but there are only six small cabins. It'll take less than a week to get to Buffalo so try to make friends with your bunk-mates or at least put up with 'em. Be sure to spend time on deck to avoid cabin fever and we have cards, board games, and a few books to share around. It's no luxury cruise but we'll do what we can to ensure you have a safe and enjoyable time. Okay? Any more questions?"

Nopony raised a hoof.

"Good! Don't be afraid to speak up if you need something. Also, don't forget that the meet-up point is the parking lot behind the public hall at sunset. It's the only long rectangular building in the town square so you can't miss it. We'll bus-it to Albany tonight so make sure you have supper and hit the head, the toilet, before you show up. See you then."

The stallion cheerfully waved and flew away as the group broke up and headed into the hotel.

Buttercup asked, "Any luck?"

"No. Or I should say, not yet." Laura shook her head and told Buttercup about not finding Thomas' file and the advice to go looking on her own until the office was less busy.

"Sounds like a plan, I guess. It's almost lunchtime so we could walk over and you can start asking around after we eat. I found the place the guys want to meet. But first…" Buttercup pointed south. "Check that shit out!"

Pursing her lips, Laura decided against scolding the filly for swearing. She wasn't her mother. Looking south she saw the shaded lane leading to the hotel, a forest starting to turn fall colours, and poking up just over the trees what looked like the distant peak of a lone mountain made of obsidian. Sunlight glittered on its polished surface.

"What is that?"

"The changeling hive."

Laura's eyebrows shot up. "They really do live in a bee hive?"

"Uh huh. If you look real good, you can see 'em flying in and out." She grinned and said, "They chased me off but I saw one up close in buggy form! They are uuugly! Like, all black insect parts and fangs and holes in their-"

Laura yelped, "I really don't want to know! Thank you." She'd didn't want to think about what was hiding under Tiffany's warm fur the next time she asked for a tip. "You said it was almost noon?"

"Yeah! Come on, I'll show you the way."

Laura remembered Chick's directions but followed Buttercup's lead since it made the filly happy. They walked across the gross-feeling tarmac to where a path cut through the thick bushes which surrounded the hotel's parking lot. A rattling and creaking noise came from the road beyond the hedge.

A two-wheeled wood cart loaded with bulging sacks, perhaps potatoes, rumbled along the road, pulled by a large red earth pony mare wearing a straw hat.

She nodded to them as they emerged from the bushes. "Good mornin', barely."

"Good morning." "Morning!"

She was headed in the same direction, across the motorway, but Buttercup set off at a swift trot and they left the labouring mare behind. Abandoned houses with dark stains running over the once-white siding lined the north side of the road, their permanently empty mail boxes sitting askew. Laura glanced through the chain link fence as they crossed the concrete bridge and looked down at the motorway. There was no traffic and it was eerily quiet aside from the clip-clop of their hooves, birds twittering, and dry leaves rustling in wind gusts.

It smelled like Fall. The musty scent of leaves and a hint of wood smoke. Laura's ears pricked as she caught snatches of conversation ahead.

They turned off of the road onto a lane which ran behind several three-story brick buildings. Square with simple pyramid roofs of patchwork singles and rows of small well-spaced windows. The lane had parking spaces along either side with a couple of battered Leafs and a handful of wood carts like the one the red mare was pulling. A pastel mauve pony stood in the bed of one cart and heaved a heavy sack of vegetables — carrots or parsnips — onto the back of a black mark-less drone.

Buttercup led Laura through a gap in the concrete median barriers surrounding the parking lot and down a short grassy slope into a flat yard between the houses. The neatly trimmed grass was marred with dirt paths and a few sods thrown up by hooves. A group of foals ran past, naked aside from a mane bow or cap, laughing and shouting. The front runner had a spinning pinwheel clutched between his grinning teeth. Laura watched them gallop around the little enclosed space with a sappy grin on her muzzle. They were so adorable she wanted to scoop them up and hug the stuffing out of them!

"Laura!"

Buttercup waved a hoof and Laura trotted to catch up. The hubbub of voices grew loud as she rounded the building's corner and entered the town's market. It reminded her of the Marylebone Farmers' Market in London: trestle tables in rows, laden with sweet-smelling produce. Corn, apples, peaches, potatoes, eggs, carrots, berries, milk and cheeses, and pumpkins of course since it was Fall in America. No doubt there would soon be Jack-o'-lanterns decorating porches while foals in costume went door-to-door collecting sweets. Pies, loaves and buns and pastries, bundles of dried herbs, bales of hay — of course — and behind the tables, in the ground floors of the square buildings that surrounded the market, small shops advertised less-agricultural products.

Ponies trotted milled about, some with heavy saddlebags others gathered in groups to chat. There was easily a hundred ponies in the square, adults and foals. More ponies in one place than Laura had ever seen before! Their splash of bright hides and manes gave the place a carnival air — though there were a few sombre black 'ponies' mixed into the crowd.

She followed Buttercup through the market and it was dizzying being surrounded by strangers after spending so long in the wilderness.

Glancing around Laura wondered where she even start looking for Thomas?

Who could she ask?

"Come on, Laura! Cherry's is over this way."

Trying not to trip over her own hooves or bump into anyone, she felt her confidence that she'd see Thomas today slipping away.

Laura fumbled with the last button and grunted as it slipped out of her hoof.

"Are you alright in there?" a mellow mare's voice called from beyond the wood-and-paper shoji screen that served as the clothing store's changing room.

"I'm fine thank you, Farah. Just having a butter… hooves moment dealing with- oh, I've got it!"

Laura smoothed down the front of the dress and stepped from behind the screen. Thank God the shop actually had a changing room! She would have been uncomfortable swapping outfits out in the open even if everypony in Beantown was more-or-less a nudist.

Trotting past Farah's store she'd spotted dresses, hats, and other clothing on display and had been seized by the irrepressible urge to shop! It seemed like forever since she'd had the chance and though she loved her old cardi, it was well past time for a new look. Plus, it was a perfect excuse to chat up the shopkeeper and ask if she knew Thomas.

Buttercup had rolled her eyes, followed her in, snorted loudly at the frilly fashions, and decided to wait outside. Laura on the other hoof, saw rack after rack of the kind of clothing she'd hoped to find in that ruined Walmart. Better yet, all tailored to suit pony anatomy.

"Yes! Yes, I think we've found the perfect look for you", purred Farah.

A cluster of mismatched mirrors showed off her fourth, or was it fifth, outfit change: a black dress of 2-way stretch fabric that clung tightly to her barrel and forelegs, a row of large red buttons ran down her chest. A black half-skirt with red hearts printed in rows draped over her hind quarters. She turned sideways to the mirror and flicked her tail a few times, feeling the loop which discreetly held the pleats in place tug at her tail. What was it called? A 'crupper'?

It felt weird.

Farah circled behind her and straightened the skirt's hem with her moss-green hooves. She stepped back and asked, "What do you think?"

"I think… Mmm…" Laura cocked her head and stared at her reflection. "It needs something to bring out my eyes."

"Let me see…" Farah stepped away for a moment and returned with a flower-like bow of shiny blue fabric that she held next to Laura's day-glow orange mane. "How about this?"

Laura pursed her lips. She hadn't worn a hair-bow since she was ten or eleven but it did suit her pony body. Just about any willy-nilly fashion seemed to work — a bit like playing 'dress-up' with a child's toy.

And it did bring out her eyes.

She nodded and said, "Yes. That's perfect, thank you."

Farah grinned and deftly tied the bow in place. "Perhaps a touch of mascara and eye shadow to really knock Thomas' socks off?"

Laura giggled and shook her head. "Perhaps when we go out on our first getting reacquainted date. I don't want to be trying too hard for a first impression but this outfit is just what I needed! Thank you very much for helping me choose it."

She'd chatted with Farah about why she needed a new outfit and sadly she'd never heard of a pony called Thomas. But she'd only moved to Beantown a year ago and didn't know everypony yet. She suggested visiting the hospital once she learned that Thomas was an OB-GYN, and she'd given Laura directions.

"You're welcome! I'm sure he will love it. Do you want to try anything else on?"

Laura's eyes roved around the crowded shop, taking in the shimmering, frilly displays of dresses, shirts, skirts, jumpers, jackets, stockings, hats, and queer saddle-like things. Yes! Yes she would love to spend another hour or three trying everything on! Even the saddles though they seemed a little kinky. But she had things to do, ponies to meet.

"No, thank you. But I'll be back!"

Farah grinned and trotted towards the shop's front counter.

Laura followed and hoped that a pearl or two would be enough to pay for everything. A paper bag on the counter held another skirt, a couple of cute tops, a light jacket, and two sets of stockings — four per set of course. They were more like leg warmers, really; tubes of fabric that left her hooves bare. Would she need to wear boots when it snowed?

"What do I owe you?"

Farah sat behind the low counter and smiled. "What do you have to trade?"

A pouch on Laura's saddlebags held the collection of interesting junk she'd collected. Assorted pebbles, a few feathers — including one of Buttercup's bright yellow plumes — and somewhere in that mess were the pearls. Laura dug around for a moment and spotted one, but ended up with a couple of pebbles stuck in her hoof-touch field as well. She used the tip of her other hoof to gently brush them back into the pouch. A bizarre sensation. Like pushing ball bearings out of a magnetic field she could 'feel' her other hoof passing through. A little shudder ran up her back.

"Oh! That's too much", Farah protested when Laura set the pearl on the glass counter top. "Don't you have anything smaller?"

Laura's ears flattened as she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry but I haven't." She'd actually expected to spend both pearls!

Farah tapped her chin and murmured, "Tell you what. Why don't you pick out a piece of jewelry to go with that dress?" Then she winked and said, "This isn't how bartering works but I'd feel guilty for the rest of the day if I didn't at least make the offer. You being just Returned and all."

Laura flushed with embarrassment at her mistake. "Thank you."

Never mind. She was just going to learn to be more careful with her 'money'. Unless Thomas was loaded, and even then… Laura was too used to just whipping out a card or tapping her iPhone on a payment machine. But she'd left them in New Brunswick to rot in the abandoned camper van.

The hotel's moonstone necklace hung around Laura's neck but she could never have too many necklaces, right? She wouldn't get to keep that one, anyway. Two shelves beneath the counter displayed a variety jewelry including gold and silver chains with glittering pendants. A few were the usual religious symbols — crosses, Stars of David, and disks with curvy Islamic text. Some crosses had an odd leaf-shaped addition that Laura had never seen before.

"What are these crosses?"

Farah leaned over the counter to peer down through the glass. "Oh, those are Equist Christian symbols."

Laura cocked an ear and asked, "Equist?"

"A new branch of Christianity that's sprung up since the Event. Somepony in the South rewrote the Bible by changing the pronouns and adding a Testament about the Event. I haven't read it but a growing number are taking it up as their faith." She tapped a hoof on the glass. "Look a little lower."

Further down were pendants for Saint Michael, Saint Benedict, Saint Patrick, and one the shape of a sun, one of a crescent moon, and one featuring a large star with several smaller stars around it.

"Those are for their new saints. Celestia, Luna, and Twilight. Equestrians who caused the Event and, so they say, saved everypony on Earth from certain destruction."

Farah didn't sound convinced, and neither was Laura.

"May I have that silver heart-shaped locket?" It was very similar to one she'd left at home which had her photo on one side and her parents on the other. A graduation present.

"Yes, certainly. Would you like a little box or will you wear it?"

"Umm… a box would be lovely, thank you."

Laura wiggled into her saddlebags while Farah boxed up the necklace. They sat a little lopsided because of the cardigan crammed into the left backpack. She hoped it wouldn't wrinkle the dress! Ugh. Being an earth pony sucked! She bit the bag's handle and hauled it off of the counter.

"Go get your stallion, Laura!"

Laura smiled and mumbled, "Thank you."

Chick frowned and glanced at the restaurant's entrance.

Gavi gave him a quick smile and said, "Relax, don't worry so much."

"I'm not worried. I just don't want them to have trouble finding us." Cherry's was starting to fill up with the usual lunchtime rush and he was worried they wouldn't see them.

Gavi lapped at his glass of water, grimaced at the taste and set it down.

"Looking forward to getting home again?" Chick asked, making idle conversation. He knew the answer, but it was something to pass the time.

"Oh, yes! Amanda's egg is due to hatch and I can't wait to meet my latest son or daughter."

Chick couldn't help making a face which Gavi chuckled at. "You're a proud father but, forgive me, griffin chicks are so horribly ugly."

That got a short raucous laugh out of the big griffin and he banged one of his yellow-leathered claws on the table. "Oh, Christ! I know, I know! Horrible little bags of skin. But I've grown to love the little piss-pots. You know, with any luck I'll be a grandfather soon."

"Really?"

"Yep. My little Beaky married that mare he's been going out with. It sounds crazy to me but the Equestrian books say there's a chance they could have a little hippogriff."

"Brown Beak's married", Chick said in a wondering tone. Seemed like only yesterday he'd been chasing the inquisitive little bugger away from his motorcycle.

"It surprised me too! You were out of town when it happened or I would have invited you to the wedding. I hope they rushed it because she's pregnant but nopony is saying a word to this old crow."

Chick hesitated and reluctantly asked, "Would… Would she lay an egg or…?"

"Your guess is a good as mine." Gavi raised an arm to wave energetically and whistled like a bird. "Your mare has certainly dolled herself up!"

Chick grimaced and stood up to watch Buttercup and Laura make their way through the crowd. "She's not my mare."

"Whatever you say, my friend."

Chick ignored the annoying griffin's smug grin. "Laura, Buttercup, hello. I hope you enjoyed your evening at the Unicorn Tower?"

"Hey, Chicky! Hi, Gavi." Buttercup chirped and flopped onto one of the spare pillows. "It was great! We had a bath and everything!"

Chick's brows furrowed. Buttercup and Laura looked and smelled much cleaner but had Buttercup said 'we' had 'a' bath? Together?

Had the filly listened to a single word he'd said?

Laura dropped the bag she'd been carrying in her mouth next to the last empty seating cushion at the low table.

"It was heavenly! The bed was especially fine after sleeping on the ground for days. Though a queen-size bed seems more like a swimming pool to me now."

She giggled cutely, shrugged out of her pink saddle bags and took her seat, tucking her tail and being careful of her new skirt. The tight black dress looked too formal for grabbing lunch in a crowded diner but Chick wasn't going to complain. Wearing clothing as concealing as a pre-Event woman's was a very appealing look.

She sighed and said, "I must apologise for us being late. I spotted a clothing store on the way and just had to pop in and try on a few things."

"No problem", Chick said as he flopped onto his pillow.

Gavi clack his beak and said, "It was well spent time. You look marvellous."

"Awww", Laura cooed as her grey-furred cheeks flushed with pink. "Thank you, Gavi. I trust your morning deliveries went well?"

"Oui, yes, all taken care of. One more night 'ere and I will start the long drive 'ome."

Buttercup asked, "Where'r you guys stayin' anyway?"

"In the community centre. It's the long building on the other side of the market." Chick idly tapped a hoof against his glass of water and said, "They let us scavs stay there when we pass through town but I'll have to find a room to rent over winter."

"And get your bébé tucked in too, eh?"

Laura looked like she was going to ask 'what baby' but Chick beat her to it. "Yes and get my motorcycle to the garage. She needs an oil change, greasing, and somewhere warm and dry to rest while it snows."

"Do we not all?" asked Gavi.

The conversation turned to Gavi boasting of his son's wedding and hopes of becoming a grand-père soon. Buttercup blurted out the egg question while Chick subtly sneaked glances at Laura and half-listening to the conversation. To admire her dress of course. It really did suit her. Elegant but with a little playfulness in the heart-printed skirt and big bow in her hair. The white gem pendant of the necklace around her graceful neck glinted in the restaurant's lights and her blue eyes sparkled as she laughed while Gavi clowned around.

"So are we gonna order or what?" asked Buttercup, barging into Chick's quiet thoughts.

"We ordered already. I 'ope you will enjoy it." Gavi waved a clawed hand as a black earth pony mare with a blue mane approached their table, balancing a large tray on her back. "Ah, 'ere it comes!"

Buttercup's wings flapped eagerly, stirring up a little gust. "Woo hoo!"

"Pizza!?" gasped Laura. She leaned around the table and grabbed Gavi in a tight hug, "Oh my God! I love you forever!"

Beak curved in a smirk, Gavi returned her hug and waggled his eyebrows at Chick.

Chick rolled his eyes at the hammy griffin.

Though pizza had been his idea, he wasn't bothered that his friend took credit for it. Old buzzard. He thanked the drone, sending a snack her way, while she carefully set the large platter on the table. She hung around for a few moments, eyes closed and soaking up the diner's pleasure as they dug into the cheesy pie. Chick stayed well away from the quarter which had those wretched little salty fish that Gavi made yummy sounds over while licking his beak. The rest of the large pizza was vegetarian, of course.

They ate quietly for a bit before Chick coaxed Laura into trying a piece with peach slices. She seemed like a mare who'd order Hawaiian pizza — that odd Canadian invention — but the last tin of pineapple imported to North America had been eaten decades ago.

Let Gavi get the hugs. Chick was just pleased by the happy smile on Laura's greasy muzzle.

He bit into a slice and savoured the burst of salty-sweet that flooded his mouth.

"Hiya, colts and fillies!"

Chick's ears flicked back. He knew that voice. Deep for a mare and raspy like a veteran whisky drinker or smoker. Her timing couldn't be less perfect! A warm leg draped over his bare shoulders as a black hoof clopped onto the table top beside his plate. A changeling in her town-safe black-furred form cuddled up against his side.

Gavi's shit-eating-grin got even wider and he cawed, "'Ello, Apple Squire."

"Apple Squire?" muttered Laura with a furrowed brow.

Buttercup waggled an oily hoof at the changeling mare since her mouth was crammed full of bread and gooey cheese.

Chick's throat protested as he forcefully swallowed his half-chewed bite. He croaked, "Hi, Squire", and reached for his glass as Apple Squire nuzzled his cheek in an embarrassingly familiar way.

Laura glanced at Gavi and asked, "I thought you said he wasn't… um…"

The old buzzard shrugged and winked at Chick. What had Gavi told them while he was stuck for hours riding in the mucky wake of the car? Gulping a swallow of water he was beaten to lying about their relationship by Apple Squire.

"Whaaat? Me and Chicky? Pfft! Nah. Many a mare has taken a shot the Pink Mustang, but I got better taste. I do massage and judging by these stiff shoulders-", she gave him a squeeze, "-he's way past due for one heck of a working over. Am I right, Chicky?"

"Right. Yes, that would be nice." Thank Christ she hadn't advertised that she offered more than that to her clients.

She gave his shoulders another squeeze and said, "Great! I'm free all afternoon until the farmers head home and you know where to find me." Apple Squire brushed a lock of her red-and-green-striped mane from her face and asked, "You're Buttercup, right?"

Buttercup looked surprised and nodded, making the strings of cheese between her muzzle and slice of pizza wobble.

"Cool. Personally, I think Dragonbane is a kick-ass name, but, yeah, Smudge wouldn't be amused. He's 'bout as dangerous as a teddy bear but everypony loves him and you don't wanna get on their wrong side." She looked across the table at Laura and said, "So that means you're Laura? Welcome to Beantown! I hope things go great with that stallion you're chasing."

"I… Well, thank you. But how on earth do you know?"

Apple Squire grinned. "It's a small town and you've told a few ponies. Half the town is probably buzzing over your romantic drama! It's more exciting than how the spuds are growing, right?"

Laura blushed cutely and dabbed at her muzzle with a napkin. "I should probably go then. I don't want him to hear about me from someone before I have a chance to surprise him."

Surprised, Chick blurted, "You've already found him?"

"No, not yet. But he's probably employed by the hospital so I'm going to trot over and look for him there."

"'E is a doctor, eh? Nice catch!"

Laura chuckled nervously and hopped up from her pillow to hug Gavi again. "Thank you. I hope you have a swift drive home, Gavi. It was wonderful meeting you."

He gently patted her back with his clawed hand and said, "Merci. Bonne chance, Laura."

"Thank you."

Buttercup asked, around a mouthful of pizza, "Am I gonna see you again before we leave for Alexandria?"

"Yes, I'll see you off this evening."

"Okay, good." Though Buttercup looked more sad than reassured.

"Chick? Would you mind hanging onto my bags for me?"

He nodded and said, "I'll put them in our room at the community centre, and I still have your solar charge controller."

"Oh! I'd forgotten all about it. Thank you very much." That earned him a warm hug from the pretty mare. She stepped back and put on a brave smile, nodded, and trotting away to the restaurant's entrance.

Chick sighed after she left and reached for his glass of water, wishing it were something much harder.

Squire was staring at him with a smirk on her muzzle.

"What?"

She grinned and said, "Nothing. See you this afternoon?"

"Uh huh."

She followed after Laura, gaily swishing her tail.

Laura stared at her reflection and puckered her grey lips. She looked like a corpse! She should have accepted the offer of makeup. Damn it. Red lipstick to match the streaks in her mane and a dab of rouge to bring some colour to her cheeks? A little blue eye shadow, maybe? Yes, she could head back to town and-

No.

No! No making excuses to leave without even trying to find Thomas! Silly girl. No. Stay.

She patted her cheeks sharply with her hooves and turned away from the dark window she'd used for a mirror. It was boarded up outside for protection from a storm… or looters. The gloomy waiting room didn't help her frazzled nerves. It should have been bright and airy but glass front-wall of the three-story room was covered with plywood sheets. The top row was clear, and they looked in desperate need of a good wash. Pin-pricks of LED lights and potted plants scattered around the lobby did little to brighten the place. After the mostly pristine hotel it was a shocking return to a post-apocalypse run-down world.

At least it was clean on the inside and smelled of antiseptic alcohol and cleansers.

Laura couldn't imagine why they'd set up a hospital in such a dismal place! The re-settled neighbourhood she'd trotted through on the way here looked well-maintained. Mostly. A few houses were dirty and missing shingles, and blackened heaps were all that remained of a couple, but the ponies of Beantown thrived in the abandoned buildings. There were ponies everywhere!

A couple of Beantowners, both mares, sat in the waiting room with her. Laura had politely greeted them when she entered but they were obviously here together. 'Together' together by the way they cuddled on one of the rows of seats.

Laura took a seat on the next row, far enough to give them privacy but close enough to avoid giving the impression that she was avoiding them. She fiddled with a plastic card with the number '8' printed on it. Her traitorous ears twitched and probably made her eavesdropping on their conversation obvious, even though she was trying not to!

'Goldie', the pregnant one, talked of putting a harness and leash on their pegasus foal once she was born. Something to do with 'magic surges'. While 'Cari' or 'Carrots', whose orange fur and green mane certainly matched her name, just giggled with mock outrage.

Laura squirmed on her seat as they nuzzled and Carrots stroked a hoof over Goldie's round belly. She would die of embarrassment or boredom if the hospital's staff didn't show up soon! Where were they?

One of the pair of swinging doors opened a crack and a unicorn wearing a white lab coat and blue tie poked his head and shoulders into the lobby.

"Number seven? The doctor will see you now."

Laura's heart leapt into her throat! Thomas?!

The stallion was pale blue, not white, but he had the purple mane Thomas had written about and how many male unicorns could be working at this ramshackle hospital? Her muscles tensed and she almost jumped off of the bench to rush over — but she wasn't certain it was him. She couldn't see his mark past the door and he didn't sound like Thomas. Her voice had changed when she'd become a tiny horse but this unicorn didn't even have a British accent.

Could he have lost it, living amongst these Americans for who-knew how many years?

The mares trotted through the door that the stallion held politely open. After it swung shut, Laura slipped off of the bench. Clutching her numbered card to her chest, she clumsily hobbled on three legs to the unoccupied reception desk. She tossed the card onto it, took a deep breath to steady herself, and quietly approached the doors.

She pushed one open a crack and poked her head through, ears folded flat as she glanced around.

A long corridor going left and right was unlit except where it intersected a shorter hall going straight ahead from the door. Carrot's green tail whisked out of sight around the edge of a fabric covered privacy screen that stretched most of the way across the hall.

The clatter of their hooves on the tile floor covered Laura's quiet steps as she sneaked up to the screen and peeked around the edge. The short hall had an open window at the end letting cool air filter in. The stallion who might be Thomas ushered the mares into one of the four doors, two on either side. Laura wrinkled her nose. The damn lab coat covered his rump mark.

"The doctor will be with you shortly", he assured the mares before closing the door.

Well, this was it! Laura heart throbbed, and she bit her lip before slipping around the edge of the screen. She walked toward the stallion as he tucked a folder, probably the mare's medical records, into a small shelf on the outside of the door. A pen whisked out of his pocked and he scribbled something on it. His pointed ears rotated toward the sound of her hooves but he stayed focused on finishing his writing.

"E-excuse me."

He looked at her, blinked rapidly and smiled. "Hello, miss. Can I help you?"

"Are you-" she croaked before her throat closed. Laura coughed, took a step closer, gazed into his dark blue eyes and tried again, "A-are you Thomas?"

The stallion's cheeks flushed and he stammered, "W-what?"

"Thomas Davies?" She pressed a hoof to her chest and took a deep breath. "It's me. Laura."

Bugger! She'd left her cardi crammed into her saddlebags! The one thing he might recognise. She should go get it! No! Stay!

Her legs trembled.

"Thomas? N-no, I'm Sterile Gauze."

She looked away and bit back a curse. Her eyes felt watery and she swiped at them with her furry wrist.

"Uh, s-sorry. Uh…" Gauze's hooves shuffled and he didn't seem to know what to do with some silly girl about to break down in front of him. "That's a pre-Event name, r-right?"

She sniffled and mumbled, "Yes."

Gauze asked, "Oh, well, I'm First-Gen. I've never had a name like that or met anypony named 'Thomas'. Was he admitted to the hospital? I could take you to the emergency ward but I don't think anypony was brought in today."

She sniffed and shook her head. "No. No, thank you. He should be employed here, not a patient." Laura waved a hoof at his forehead and said, "H-he's a unicorn like you."

Sterile Gauze frowned. "The only other unicorn stallion who works here is called Clean Sweep, though he's a Returnee so I suppose he might have gone by Thomas before."

Laura's ears perked and she pleaded, "Can you take me to him? Please?"

"Ah, his shift isn't until later. But you could talk with Nurse Triage. She's been the hospital admin since forever and she'd know more about Clean Sweep than I do." He gingerly pointed with a hoof back the way she'd come and said, "If you go back to the waiting room I'll go find her and-"

The surface of the door across the hall shimmered with magic and swung open.

"-completely normal so far, Whinny. Book a follow-up next week and we'll get those stitches out, alright?"

"Yes, Doctor. Thank you", said a bulky dark brown earth pony stallion as he stepped into the hall. A young foal with white bandages wrapped around his forelegs lay draped over his broad back, a sour expression on his cute little face.

"And as for you", said the doctor as she followed them into the hall, "Promise me you'll be more careful with trying to get your cutie mark, alright?"

The foal sighed and muttered, "Yes, Doctor Shield."

"Good colt."

Her horn glowed, and a candy wrapped in white wax paper levitated out of a pocket on her white lab coat. The paper peeled away as she brought it up to the colt's muzzle. His ears perked up but his expression remained sulky as she popped it into his mouth.

Crumpling up the paper and tucking it back into her pocket, Dr. Shield turned away from the father and son as they walked towards the screen at the end of the hall.

"Goldie and Carrot are waiting for you in room two, Doctor."

"Thank you, Gauze. And you are…?"

"L-Laura."

Big and intimidating, for a pony, Dr. Shield's white lab coat strained to contain her muscular red-furred shoulders. If Laura hadn't known the doctor was a mare, she would have sworn she was a stallion. A handsome one.

"She's looking for somepony called 'Thomas'. Says he works here?" said Gauze.

"Thomas?" Dr. Shield snorted and asked Laura, "White unicorn, purple hair, foal's chew-toy for a cutie mark?"

"Yes!" Laura's back legs spasmed, and she did an involuntary little hop. "Yes, that's him!"

"Somepony's pretty excited, huh?" Dr. Shield chuckled.

Laura blushed at her foolish display.

The doctor sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry but I haven't seen Thomas in years. I think he moved to another town."

Laura's back legs gave out. She sat with a thump, moaned and hid behind her hooves as hot tears squeezed between her clenched eyelids. A comforting hoof touched her shoulder as she struggled to breath.

"S-sorry!" she managed to sob.

"Shhh, it's okay", murmured Dr. Shield as her hoof stroked and squeezed Laura's shoulder. "Somepony here will remember Thomas and we might have some records of him. We should be able to find out if he really did move and where he's gone."

Dr. Shield ordered Gauze, "Take Laura to see Triage, okay? Then get the used bandages in room three to Laundry."

Sterile Gauze snapped to attention and nodded. "Right away, Doctor."

Shield patted Laura's shoulder and said, "Come see me for a physical once you get settled, alright?" The door to the room where the mares waited opened, and she walked in saying, "Hello, Cari. Goldie. How are you and the little-" A brief snap of light ran over the door and the conversation was cut off.

Laura scrubbed at her eyes with damp wrist fur, snuffled, and swallowed a hot mess out of her gigantic nose. Eugh. Disgusting! She must look horrible. Good thing she hadn't bothered with makeup.

Like magic, ha, a cloth appeared before her, held in a glittering blue glow.

"Here." Gauze cleared his throat while she wiped her face and said, "Umm… If you'll come with me, please?"

Laura sighed and heaved herself up to follow him. She was wrung out and just wanted to lie down and mope.

Chick rolled off of Apple Squire, sweaty and panting, but leaving both of them unsatisfied.

Flopping onto his side, facing away from Squire he inhaled deeply and blew out through his teeth before muttering, "Sorry."

Squire's forelegs, transformed into rough approximations of pink-skinned human arms, wrapped around his chest as she cuddled up behind him. Her ample breasts pressed against his shoulders.

"It's okay, stud. Happens to everypony now and then."

He sighed while she nibbled on his ear.

"Sorry", he muttered again. "It's not you. I am just tired and need to rest. Maybe tomorrow-"

"Don't lie to a changeling, Chicky. It tastes sour."

He shut his mouth and lay still, mind racing. He was just tired, wasn't he? What else could it be?

"Come on… Talk to me", she murmured while stroking a mitten-like hand down his side.

Chick closed his eyes and sighed. His muscles ached from an hours-long massage. Squire's human form didn't have individual fingers but her 'hands' had found every knot and kink, and pounded them into putty.

Face pressed into the bedsheets he confessed, "I feel ashamed."

"Why? Because petit Chicky doesn't want to play?"

He snorted. "Petit? You're not helping my confidence."

"Hee… Sorry, I'm just tweaking your tail. What do you feel ashamed about? Did somepony see you coming to visit and give you an earful?"

"Pfft. No. Like I care what they think?"

Squire was discrete about offering sex and word of mouth was the only way she got clients for it. But this was a small town and everypony knew or suspected. He'd gotten a few disgusted and angry looks, especially from the mare he'd turned down last winter. What was her name? Fanta? No, he really didn't care what they thought. Did he?

He had started feeling off while coming here…

Doubt building with every step.

He almost hadn't knocked on Squire's door.

"Is it this body? Do you want me to be someone else, hmmm?" she crooned in a sultry tone. "Maybe that cute chick from the X-Men movies? Kitty something? You really, really, really liked her the last time you were in town." She growled and bit his ear.

He squirmed in her arms and his legs thrashed against the tangled bedsheets. "Non, get off!"

"I'm trying to!" she grumbled and shoved herself away from him.

It was weird. Not her semi-human shape but his lack of response to it. Her ability to mimic women from Hollywood or the pages of Playboy usually did the trick. It was why he'd started coming to see a changeling; mares just didn't do anything for him.

"Hmm… Have you finally got a taste for horse-flesh?" Squire's question echoed his thoughts.

His ears flicked at a quiet whoosh and the touch of cold fire as she transformed. Chick cracked open an eye to peek over his shoulder. One of Squire's unicorn forms smiled at him. In private she was allowed to take any hue she pleased and she'd turned the luscious red of a ripe cherry.

"What do you think?" she asked in a husky seductive tone. "Doing anything for you?" Squire spread her hind legs.

His eyes flinched away after a quick glance. He opened his mouth to object.

"Nope, still a pony prude", she observed before another flash of green fire consumed her. "How about this then?" Squire's voice dropped a few octaves and Chick felt something long and warm pressed against his backside.

"Merde!"

He jerked away from Squire and rolled onto his belly, squirming out from between Squire's hooves and kicking his way through the tangled sheets to jump off the bed.

Squire laughed and rolled onto his back, waving his erection in the air. "Just checking if the rumours are true."

"You rotten whore!" Chick snarled at 'him' in French.

Squire's cute giggles clashed with his current form. "Hey, I understood some of that. Yeah, no arguing that I'm a prostitute… or did you say 'fries in gravy'? Are you just hungry, Chicky?"

Chick snorted and grabbed his leather jacket from the worn carpet.

"Sorry, sorry. Don't leave, I'm pretty sure I know what would get you going."

He angrily shoved his foreleg into a sleeve and refused to look at the bed after another whoosh of transformation magic.

"Chickyyy…", she crooned in a seductive feminine voice.

A voice that he knew well.

He couldn't help looking.

Laura lay on the bed. Curled up in a demure pose that revealed nothing but accentuated the smooth curve of her rump. Her eyes shimmered, briefly turning bright green with a slit irises.

"There it is! The sweet syrup of infatuation!" She grinned and wiggled on the bed. "Oh my gosh, I'm so happy for you!"

"What?!"

"Youuu liiike Laaaura", she sang while crawling across the bed toward him.

Chick grimaced and shrugged into his jacket. "Non."

He stomped out the door and didn't bother looking back at the sound of changeling magic or slam of her door shutting.

Hoofsteps followed him past other apartment doors and down the stairs. He barged through the doors and outside into a cool early evening, and walked on stiff legs along a flagstone path toward the market square. His annoyed snort blew twin puffs of steam as Apple Squire caught up to him, dressed in her outdoors form of a black earth pony mare with curly green and red mane.

"Sorry I pushed your buttons like that", she said in a contrite tone.

He didn't say anything or look at her. Maybe if he ignored her she'd go away?

"I'm not surprised you're interested in her. She's cute, smart, very girly-girl, and so loyal. Nothing like-"

He growled, "Don't say her name."

"-her", she finished lamely.

A straggling merchant with a pair of drones finished packing up her stall on the other side of the market. The first-floor apartment building shops all had their 'Closed' signs up. Chick and Squire walking silently on flattened grass and dirt where the bustling crowd had been. Everypony had gone home to their families, to share supper, gather around a warm fire, and enjoy a peaceful sleep. Changeling guards would keep watch. Crickets chirped while fireflies danced in dark shadows between the square apartment blocks. Bedsheets and clothing, hung from lines between the buildings, waved like banners in the cool breeze. Lamp posts with square solar panels on top, scattered around the market, switched on as the few glowing red clouds faded to black.

She might be right.

Chick's tail flicked against his sides as his anger cooled. He missed her. He'd only known Laura a few days but… she was why he'd felt guilty about crawling into Squire's bed. Worrying about her finding her fiancee made his heart ache.

His brisk pace slowed and his head drooped.

Squire was right.

She must have 'tasted' his mood and quietly said, "Don't blame me for being happy for you, Chicky."

"Pfft. You're happy about this?"

"Of course I am. You've finally fallen for somepony. I'll miss playing dress-up for you but-"

He stopped and glared at her, "Stop it! There's nothing going on between me and Laura. There never could be."

"Why the hell not?"

"She's engaged and, as you said, she's loyal."

Squire blew through her mouth, making her lips flap. "Yeah, right! What are the odds her fiance hasn't moved on, huh? And you can be there, her studly friend, ready to catch her on the rebound." She rested a hoof on his shoulder and shook him. "Seriously. Listen to me! This could be good for you! And her. You finally got a chance to have a healthy relationship with a mare you like — the first mare you've ever liked! Don't throw that away 'cause it's complicated. Maybe he'll reject her? Maybe he's dead? Maybe she'd be happy with two stallions in her life? I don't know! And neither do you and you won't find out if you just give up."

He'd be lying if he said that the thought of being with Laura didn't excite him. Didn't give him hope. How sad was that? Wishing for Laura to have her heart broken so he might be happy? No, it was shit.

"Non. She will find her Thomas and if he rejects her, then he will answer to me for it." He growled and ground a hoof into the dirt.

"That's the spirit! Kick his ass for her!"

Chick rolled his eyes and walked away, heading toward the recreation centre and his temporary room. If Apple Squire didn't take the hint and leave him alone, he'd slam the door in her face. It wouldn't be the first time. She was mercifully quiet for the rest of the walk. She must sense the frustration and anger oozing out of him.

Gavi was waiting for them at the entrance.

"Chick! There you are, with Squire of course. I was sure you were, eh, having a 'massage', yes?" He nodded to Squire, "'Ello, Squire."

"Hi, Gavi."

Chick sighed at the griffin's smirk and said, "Don't you start. Did you need me for something?"

Gavi nodded and pushed open the door for him. "Yes, Laura was frantic to find you but-"

"She was? Why? Is she alright?"

Apple Squire followed them into the lobby and asked, "She who? Laura?"

"Oui, yes, Laura."

"What's going on? Trouble with her fiancee?" Squire asked with her ears perked and a bright glint in her eyes.

Chick glared at her but pawed nervously at the floor.

"Yes."

Merde! Chick slumped, feeling dizzy. He glanced between Squire and Gavi but couldn't put two words together.

"What? What happened? Spit it out already!" Squire pranced and bumped her shoulder against Chick's.

Gavi clucked his tongue and said, "'E's not 'ere. She found out at the 'ospital that 'e moved away to Alexandria many years ago."

"Where is she?" Chick mumbled with a thick throat.

"She's gone. Gone to Alexandria with Buttercup. That's why she needed to find you. To say 'goodbye' and get 'er things. She paid the stallion running the convoy with that metal box of electrics that you were 'olding onto for 'er. I 'ad to 'elp since you were busy."

"Oh." Chick's backside hit the floor with a thump. That settled that then. Damn, he'd wanted to see Buttercup off but had wasted the afternoon with Squire and forgot. He really was a shit.

Squire groaned and hung her head for a moment before jerking up and staring intensely at Chick. "You gotta go after her!"

"Pfft! What? Non!"

"That would be crazy", Gavi agreed, "But-" He lay a hand on Chick's shoulder. "Maybe a good kind of crazy, eh? I've seen the way you look at her. It's not right letting it end this way."

Chick glared at him, shrugged off the clawed hand and stood up. "No, it's finished. I'm going to my room."

Ears flat to his skull he stomped toward the stairs, ignoring their protests as they chased after him.

10 - Albany

"Snrrrzk! Plp-plp-plp-phrrr… Snrrrzk! Plp-plp-plp-phrrr…"

Laura groaned into the pink fabric of her saddlebags. Her forelegs were tired from stretching up to cover her ears with her hooves, and it didn't make a damn bit of difference, anyway.

Of course, they'd picked a seat beside someone who snored like a banshee.

Of course.

Buttercup lay curled up next to her on the bus' bench seat — an indistinct lump under her unzipped sleeping bag, which they shared for a blanket. Laura couldn't tell if she was actually asleep. The little bus bounced and juddered, rocking them on the thinly cushioned bench. It's old diesel engine roared, wheels howled along the bumpy highway, and random gusts leaked through rusty gaps in the shuddering metal body.

How could anyone sleep through this? It was hard enough trying to cat-nap on an aeroplane. What a letdown after a blissful night in one of the Unicorn Tower's luxurious beds.

Sleeping in Chick's tent on the ground was more comfortable than this!

Chick.

Ugh.

What a disappointment he'd turned out to be.

She rolled over, curled up into a ball, and tried to find a comfortable position with her head jammed between her lumpy saddlebags. If she were home, she'd just get up, have a cup of chamomile, a Hob Nob or three, and maybe read for a bit.

Why hadn't he been there to see them off?

Being uncomfortable and restless made her even more annoyed with him. Thank God she'd found Buttercup, and she had flown up over the buildings and spotted Gavi. She could have been stuck in Beantown until next year!

Gavi helped retrieve her belongs from Chick's room and haggled with Captain Harris, the tall and lean beige pegasus in charge of this convoy to Alexandria. She traded the solar electronics box for the trip, though she suspected that it was her sob-story of chasing after her fiancee that finally convinced him. Gavi waited with them in the parking area behind the community centre as a short grey bus with bars over its windows, hitched to U-Haul trailer with a faded postcard picture of Tucson on the side, were loaded with baggage and ponies. Buttercup joked that Chick was probably visiting Apple Squire, implying with an impish grin and eyebrow waggle that he was getting much more than a massage.

Laura laughed it off as a teenager's hormone-driven imagination, but the longer they waited, the more plausible it sounded. Apple Squire had been quite snuggly with him and Laura had noticed how he blushed, even through his pink fur. Surely her name couldn't be a coincidence: 'apple-squire' was ancient slang for a prostitute's servant or pimp. She remembered that from a play in Drama class because it was such an odd phrase.

He couldn't have known that Laura was leaving too, but missing the last chance to see Buttercup off to have sex with a whore was pretty bloody shallow.

So they'd waited and waited. Looking up whenever some pony came trotting out of the housing complex. Her ears kept going flat to her head, and her tail wouldn't stop switching from side to side, making it plain how aggravated she was. Eventually, she sat on the damn thing, despite how much it hurt.

At sunset, they'd had to board or be left behind.

They waved to Gavi through the dusty, bar-covered window as the bus pulled out of the parking lot, and still no sign of Chick.

Poor Buttercup. She should have been eagerly looking forward to the trip, but she slumped by the window, gazing sadly at the abandoned city as they rumbled down a sliproad to the motorway. Laura tried to comfort her, saying that at least they'd had a nice lunch together and it was a shame they hadn't had more than just a day in Beantown and it was Chick's loss if he couldn't be bothered to turn up.

Buttercup just shrugged and stared out the window.

Would he get paid by Beantown since she'd left right after arriving?

The question finally caught Buttercup's attention for a moment, and she muttered that she didn't know.

For a moment Laura had felt smug: served him right for ditching them!

But where would she be if it weren't for Chick?

Alone and starving in the wilderness. She probably wouldn't have survived winter if he hadn't found her and brought her safely to Beantown. He may have missed seeing them off, but wasn't she really the one ditching him to chase after Thomas? Not that she had much choice — the bus went when it went.

Laura rubbed her itchy nose, wiggled on the lumpy bench, and rolled over.

She sighed.

Thrashed her too-many legs a bit under the blanket.

Sighed again.

Her mind wouldn't quiet and her mood cycled through guilt, frustration, and righteous anger — at herself and Chick and this stupid bus, and this stupid world, and this wretched horsey body!

She should be back home in London picking out dresses for the bride's maids. Damn it all!

Her tummy was sore and tense because she hadn't felt up to eating anything when one of the team of changelings driving the bus came around with snacks and drinks for everyone. Her sandwich, bottle of water, and an apple were packed away for later in one of the saddlebags, but she still didn't feel up to eating.

She sniffled and squeezed frustrated tears from her eyes, then scrubbed them off of her snout with a crooked foreleg.

Stupid emotions.

It was done with and didn't really matter, as she'd probably never see him again, anyway.

That just made her feel worse.

A seat creaked as someone got up. They walked past Laura's bench, their hoofsteps muffled by thick carpet in the aisle. She heard a gargling snort as the snoring pony was woken up, a quiet, grumbling conversation, and more spring squeaks as they shifted around.

"Thank you", Laura whispered to the pony's silhouette as they went past, heading back to their own bed.

The mare whispered, "No problem."

Laura snuggled down and closed her eyes. Her head felt like it was spinning and sleep seemed impossi-

She painfully jounced up and down on her horse's back, completely out of sync with the big brute's bouncy trot. Her hooves didn't reach the stirrups and the bloody reins kept getting away!

"She's going to fall! Help her!"

Her mother was drowned out by loud hoof-stomping applause from a crowd of ponies filling the stands.

The horse galloped towards a brush fence and Laura felt his muscles bunching between her thighs as he leaped. Up, up, up the side of a towering wall of greenery! The reins slipped away from her frantically clutching hooves and she tumbled backwards over his pink rump!

Laura jolted awake as the bus thumped through a pothole, bouncing her head off of the bench.

"Maaa-maaa!"

Laura blinked gummy eyes. On the bench across the aisle, Mrs Lee, a peach-colour mare, nuzzled her tiny blue foal.

"I know sweetie", she said, "We're almost there, just hold on a little longer, okay?"

Laura pushed herself upright and held a hoof over her mouth as she yawned. Gravel rumbled and popped beneath the bus as it slowly wallowed along a narrow, pot-holed road, with dense forest outside and grey light filtered through the dirty windows. Buttercup sat up on the bench seat with her hooves muzzle pressed to the window. Laura heared hushed conversations and groans all around as ponies woke up.

Captain Harris walked unsteadily down the aisle, fluffing his beige wings as he cheerfully announced, "Good morning, everypony! We're here!"

He braced his long legs as the bus wobbled from side to side and jolted to a halt with squeaking brakes.

"Take a few minutes to hop off the bus and stretch your legs. Breakfast will be served aboard the- Whoops! Hey!"

Laura giggled as Mrs Lee's foal, a pale blue earth pony filly named Veronica, dove under the Captain and ran to the doors as they creaked and swung open. Her mother awkwardly squeezed past Harris to chase after her.

"Leave your luggage on the bus until you've had breakfast and been assigned a cabin. Anypony who's up for it can help with hauling cargo to the Fair Dinkum and maybe we'll get underway before lunchtime. Thank you."

Buttercup turned away from the window. "G'morning, Laura. We're at Blain's Bay Marina! I saw a sign."

"Good morning." Laura was torn between curling up to sleep and answering the call of nature.

"Time to get up, sleepy mare. I gotta stretch my wings!" Buttercup pawed at the seat and lifted her wings up high, like a cockerel showing off to his hens.

Captain Harris chuckled and told her, "Don't go too far. You don't want to miss breakfast."

Buttercup nodded and hopped down to the floor between the seats. She waited as a minor stampede of ponies filled the aisle and shuffled toward the front of the short bus.

"Hey, we're gonna share a cabin, right?"

Laura struggled into her cardigan. "Yes, that would be nice." She hoped the snorer wouldn't be in the cabin next to theirs.

It was cool and damp outside, making Laura's coat shiver and her breath steam in the air. The other ponies spread out, looking for somewhere private in the bushes or alleys between the marina's dilapidated buildings and racks of abandoned canoes. Buttercup took to the sky as Laura trotted into the forest, thinking wistfully of the luxurious bathrooms at the Unicorn Tower.

When she emerged from the bushes, she found the bus had been turned around and was backing slowly downhill, toward the marina's docks. She joined a few passengers as they trotted down the same slope, and very carefully avoided the slowly turning wheels, which were taller than her! The breeze smelled of fish and rotting vegetation. As she rounded the end of the U-Haul trailer her ears pricked up at the slap of waves on hollow hulls and shouted greetings. The harbour was just a little, marshy bay on a broad green river, and a mish-mash of cannibalised floating dock sections stretched through a meadow of ear-high grass, out into the duck-weed choked water.

Laura followed the others onto the creaking dock and glanced at the ruined hulks of pleasure craft scattered around the harbour. A row of aluminium masts jutted at odd angles along the far shore, where a whole fleet of yachts had sunk. The marshy stink was powerful, but she caught the sweet scent of something cooking and raised her head, snuffling at the air with her ridiculously big nostrils.

Tied up on either side of the dock were long canal boats, just like one might see puttering along Britain's extensive canal network. They were twins, painted patriotic American colours: blue hulls, white railings, and red cabins. The bright paint gleamed in the rising sun, made a stark contrast to the ruined harbour. 'Freedom' was written in block-type on the bow of one and 'Fair Dinkum' on the other. A couple of ponies on the Freedom's bow watched as the passengers trickled onto the dock.

A dark blue pony stood stiff and proud. She had short, rope-y brown dreadlocks and wore a white seaman's cap and long-sleeved white jacket. Beside her was a unicorn mare with a rose red coat and wavy mane of red and white stripes that reminded Laura of taffy.

Captain Harris swooped in and landed near the gathered passengers. His hooves clumped on the worn wood and made the dock bob.

"Hey, everypony, gather round!" He glanced up and whistled two notes.

Buttercup and the other pegasus passenger, a young, pastel blue mare, fluttered down. Buttercup wiggled her way through the small crowd and sat next to Laura, panting and grinning.

Captain Harris asked, "Is that everypony? Alright then. On your right-" he waved a hoof at the boat "-is the Fair Dinkum which is for cargo only. I'm her captain and I'd like you to stay off her unless I or one of my crew give you permission to board. On your left is the Freedom where you'll be bunking as we sail to Buffalo."

The dark blue mare with dreadlocks stepped up to the rail and announced in a surprisingly deep voice, "I'm Captain Batten and this is Crewpony Tanner." She had a commanding aura and loomed over them, like she was giving a royal address.

"Just call me Cathy", said Crewpony Tanner in a much more light-hearted and friendly way. She smiled and waggled a hoof at Mrs Lee's filly, who was gazing up at the boat with wide eyes.

Captain Batten raised an eyebrow at her and snorted. Once Cathy settled down, she coughed and said, "I have three rules you need to follow aboard my ship. One: no fighting. It's going to be crowded and the last thing we need is drama. Two: no swimming or drinking the canal water. It's not safe and we have plenty of fresh water on board. And three: relax! It's a long trip and you're going to be bored, but we have movies, music, games, and a few books. Feel free to explore the Freedom and talk to me or the crew if you're interested in lending a hoof. We'd be happy to show you the ropes."

She gruffly ordered, "Well, don't just stand there, Harris. Get them aboard!"

"Yes, Sir!" said Harris with a grin while saluting with a wing. "Right this way, everypony."

He led the way further out onto the dock and gestured for them to climb aboard the Freedom's stern via a plank with rungs nailed across it. The narrow board made Laura nervous. She had no fear of heights, but it bounced a little with every step and felt slippery under her hooves. Buttercup just hopped aboard with a couple of wing flaps. The Freedom's stern deck quickly became crowded, and they squeezed into a space next to the ship's wheel, which had a horse shoe shaped wood platform built around it. Wind chimes tinkled, barely audible over the clomp of many hooves on the deck and chatter as curious passengers looked about.

"Hey, I don't think you're supposed to go up there", said one of the stallions. A handsome black-and-white striped zebra with a stiff Mohawk mane.

Laura couldn't remember if the guide Thomas had left for her mentioned people Returning as zebras. He was certainly the first she'd encountered or heard of.

Another stallion, a tangerine orange with a bright red tail, jumped up into the seat mounted on a tall pedestal next to the wheel. "Ah'm just having a look, Will. Ah won't touch nothing."

The zebra, Will, frowned and grumbled something that Laura didn't hear over the other ponies talking.

"Hello, everypony! I'm Dolly Mix."

Laura caught a glimpse of a bright yellow pony through the crowd. She stood halfway up the stairs that led down into the boat's interior.

"Come on in, a few at a time, not all at once now. We got pancakes, and syrup, and apple juice, and something that's a bit like coffee if you drink it too fast for it to touch your tongue." She laughed merrily and said, "Cathy'll get your cabins sorted too."

Mr and Mr Lee trotted after their filly, who practically dove down the stairs at the mention of pancakes. A pair of young mares followed them. Laura had overheard on the bus that they were sisters, Returned together by chance while riding a hotel elevator in Florida. That left Laura, Buttercup, the two stallions, and a grape-purple mare on the stern.

"Hey, I can see over the roof up here", said the orange stallion in the pilot's chair as his tail wagged.

The mare shrugged and muttered, "Gotta see where we're going, right?"

"I wonder what she runs on? Bio-diesel like the bus?" asked Will.

"Dunno, but the roof's covered in solar panels."

They nattered on for a while, speculating about how the boat worked. Laura tuned them out and yawned, hiding her mouth behind a hoof.

Buttercup nudged her shoulder. "Come on, let's look around." She took off down one side of the cabin, trotting carelessly along a narrow walkway.

Though she'd much rather find her cabin and have a nap, Laura was curious about the boat. Despite living in England, with its vast canal network, she'd never been on a canal boat before and finding one, two, of them in America was bizarre. She blinked, forced her eyes wide, and tried to be careful where she placed her hooves as she slowly walked along the narrow walkway, with not even a rail between her and a short drop to the murky water.

The boat bobbed gently beneath her shaky hooves. Getting her 'sea legs' would be much more complicated now she had four of them.

She peeped through a window.

The back third or so of Freedom was a kitchen, or galley, Laura supposed it should be called on a boat. Dolly glanced up from cooking a pancake on the boat's little hob and waved to Laura with the spatula glued to her hoof. She smiled and nodded, not daring to lift a hoof to wave back. The next two windows had closed curtains and were probably cabins. Cabins with comfy beds, she hoped. Along the roof, aluminium frames held solar panels and power cables. At the bow they met another crew pony who was busy arranging a rope into a neat coil on the deck.

"Hiya", chirped Buttercup.

The young earth pony mare — there were a lot of mares on this boat — looked up and smiled. "Hello. Welcome aboard, stranger."

"I'm not that strange, am I?" Buttercup chuckled. "I'm Buttercup and this is Laura."

"Vanilla Grey."

Laura blinked and one of her eyebrows rose. Vanilla Grey was a fitting name as the mare had a creamy-colour coat of fur and short grey mane and tail.

Vanilla Grey snorted a laugh and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, Mom wasn't too creative with that, was she?"

Buttercup laughed and said, "Hey, well, I like your name better than mine. 'Buttercup'? Come ooon! Could it be any more filly?"

"Not into filly stuff?"

"Pfft! No!"

Laura slipped by the young mares and walked to the bow. A black and white cat lay on its back in the middle of a coiled up rope, its eyes closed as it dozed in a beam of sunlight that slipped through the forest on shore. That soft-looking exposed belly was very tempting, but she didn't disturb its purring slumber with her clumsy hooves. She sat, yawned, and looked around with bleary eyes. Quiet conversation and the sharp tink of plates came from below deck, through the open cabin door at the front of the boat. Her twitching ears tingled and were slightly numb from the long and loud bus ride. She relaxed, listening to the rhythmic slap of ripples on the hull and rustle of wind through leaves.

Her eyes drifted shut.

"Quack."

"Hmm?" she hummed and leaned over the bow's short rail.

A flock of brown ducks waddled out of dry brown rush husks along the shoreline. They splashed into the harbour, ducked their heads beneath the water, fluffed their wings and waggled their cute tails. Laura smiled at them as they paddled past the boat. Someone laughed on shore and her ears and eyes flicked up. Everypony was aboard the boats, leaving just the pair of changelings onshore. She couldn't help smirking as the black ponies played tag around the bus and trailer. They were smaller than an adult pony and behaved rather childishly. Foalishly? A burst of green smokeless fire consumed one of them, and an enormous tabby cat crouched where it had been! It dove under the bus as the other flared with green flames and turned into a spaniel which chased after the cat, yapping its fool head off.

A cloud of gnats drifting past reminded Laura to close her mouth, lest she eat one.

So. That's why they were called 'changelings'.

"Did I hear you badmouthing your Ma?" Captain Batten came around the port side of the cabin and stepped onto the bow.

Vanilla snapped to attention and saluted. "Sir, no Sir!"

Batten's chuckle was as gravelly as her voice. "I bet. Go on below and get something to eat, I'll finish up here."

"Thanks, Pa." Vanilla nudged Buttercup and waved to Laura, "Come on landlubbers, follow me."

Pa? Laura was too tired to be curious and followed them down three steps from the bow and into a narrow hall running through the centre of the boat.

Cabins on either side reminded her of capsule-hotel rooms: a mattress with bedclothes and pillows on a head-high shelf, with a thick blue curtain on the hall-side for privacy. Bags and boxes, rope, and other equipment were stored beneath. They walked past a frosted glass-enclosed shower stall next to a small room with the word 'HEAD' on a brass plaque on its door. The first group of passengers were just leaving as they entered the small galley, shooed out of the kitchen by Dolly Mix the moment they finished their breakfast. The rose-red unicorn, Cathy, floated plates and cups from the table while wiping it clean with a damp cloth in her hooves. When she was finished, Laura, Buttercup, and Vanilla Grey hopped up onto one of the bench seats. The canvas-covered cushions were still warm. The odd couple of stallions and grape-coloured mare came in from the stern and took the opposite bench. The mare, Shiraz, was excited to see a map of northern New York state beneath the transparent plastic top of the table and pointed out where she'd Returned — a town in the middle of New York State called Binghamton. Vanilla Grey shoved a carafe of syrup, the butter dish, and a cream jug out of the way to show them the route they'd be taking along the canal.

Laura hid a yawn behind a hoof and gazed out the window, ignoring the conversation and falling into a light doze.

Clink, clack.

A plate with three enormous pancakes and a cup of something brown and steaming landed in front of her. Laura managed to say, "Thank you", to Cathy before enduring another jaw-cracking yawn.

"Welcome. Though you've paid for the food and trip so, really, we should be thanking you." She held a clipboard and pencil in the glow of her magic. "So, you're Laura and Buttercup, right? You want to bunk together?"

"Yup!" Buttercup chirped and grinned as Vanilla passed her the syrup.

"Yes, please." Laura placed a hoof over the handle of a knife and concentrated on feeling the yellowed plastic. Once she had a good 'grip' on it with her hoof magic, she lifted it up and impatiently waited her turn with the butter.

Her tummy felt hollow and sour.

Cathy scribbled on the clipboard. "Okay, you're in cabin five. It's starboard side, third one back from the bow, opposite the shower stall." She turned to the mare and stallions. "You boys will be in cabin six next to them and I'll have to put you-" she nodded to Shiraz "-in cabin four with the sisters. That alright?"

Laura was still clumsy using a fork with her hoof, but she didn't get too much sweet syrup on her nose. It smelled like the real thing and made her drool like mad! At least her ridiculously long pony tongue was useful for cleaning up. The 'coffee' was sweetish and tasted of malted grain and licorice — a bit like the nasty "Camp" coffee syrup her grandfather sometimes made. It was disgusting, but she washed down the pancakes with it, anyway.

She was quickly down to the last pancake and giving it a top-up of syrup when an angry shout came from outside.

Cathy cursed, set her clipboard on the table and headed for the steps to the stern.

"What's that?" asked Dolly Mix with her hooves deep in the galley's sink.

"Probably nothing, but I'd better go see if they need my horn for anything."

Buttercup squeezed next to Laura, and they both peered through the window. There wasn't much to see: a group of ponies and changelings — back in their black, cutiemark-less pony forms — gathered around the rear of the trailer. The sliding door was up and everypony was yelling, waving hooves, tails lashing.

"What'cha think's goin' on?" asked Buttercup around a mouthful of half-chewed pancake.

Laura snorted and pushed a wing out of her face. "I don't know, but it doesn't concern us and I'd like to finish my breakfast if you don't mind."

Buttercup grinned sheepishly and settled back into her place.

The hubbub had gotten louder and moved onto the dock by the time they'd cleaned their plates. Laura followed Vanilla and Buttercup upstairs to the stern and was startled when Buttercup squealed and leapt into the air.

"Chick!"

"What?" Laura's hooves clattered and slid on the deck as she lunged over to the port side.

Chick's leather-jacketed pinkness stood out from the angry ponies surrounding him on the dock.

Buttercup dove through the crowd and tackled him in an energetic hug.

He gasped, "Hey, Buttercup!" He looked up and sheepishly waved, "Bonjour, Laura. Good to see you again."

She spluttered, at a loss for words.

Chick squinted and blinked into the wind blast. Tears streaking down his cheeks felt like ice.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid", he muttered through chattering teeth.

"You'll… have to… speak up,… my friend", panted Gavi, his chest heaving against Chick's back.

"It's nothing! Just don't drop me!"

Gavi didn't waste breath replying, but tightened his arms and claws around Chick's chest. It did little to relieve the terror of being carried through the night sky like a sack of potatoes. Chick's unsupported rump swung beneath them and with every flap of the griffin's mighty wings its pendulum weight felt like it would drag Chick to his death!

At least he couldn't see how high up they were. Since leaving Beantown's little puddle of lights behind, it was black black black beneath his dangling hooves. He guessed they were higher than the treetops and flying level, judging by his watery-eyed glimpses of the star-speckled horizon.

A deep hum, like a basso profundo bumble bee, announced Apple Squire's return.

"I found them! Follow me."

Gavi tipped right and dove after Squire, making Chick tense and uselessly pedal his hind legs while his inner ears swam and guts heaved.

They slipped past silhouettes of pine trees and over an open space that Chick realised must be the highway. He saw a glimmer of the bus' headlights a kilometre or so ahead.

"We got lucky!" Apple Squire's buzzy voice shouted over the wind. "I thought they'd be a lot further away by now."

Chick tore his eyes from the hard ground he couldn't see. Squire's natural changeling form was slightly less terrifying than the drop beneath his hooves. Even though they'd been friends for a couple of years, he'd only seen her this way a handful of times: blue mane whipping in the wind, glowing green eyes, a skinny body with a black carapace that glittered in the starlight, jagged and full of unsettling holes. Nothing alive should have holes through it! But she was very much alive and bursting with energy, now that she'd talked him into this asinine plan. Even laden with his saddlebags she could have flown circles around Gavi's ponderous but powerful wings.

"H-how am I getting on the bus?" he yelled at her.

Chick could hear a cheeky grin in her reply, "You leave that to me, Chicky!"

"Can't you use the changeling hive mind to ask the drones driving it to stop?"

"Could. Won't", she hummed. "We're flying under the hive's radar on this mission, soldier!"

"What?! Why?"

Squire zipped closer, brushing Chick with her frantically buzzing wings. "The Queen would not be amused with me helping you."

"Why?" he repeated. He was a nopony. Queen Bean wouldn't even know he existed.

"Helping Beantown's most eligible bachelor sneak out of town? She'd nail my wings to the hive if she found out! I'm in enough trouble for reliving your, ah, 'tension', instead of hooking you up with a mare or three to squirt foals into."

Gavi cawed a breathy laugh.

"She's keeps a close eye on everypony in Beantown. It's like watching a soap opera or an ant farm to her, I guess. Pretty sure she started the betting pool on you."

Chick wiggled in Gavi's grasp, annoyed but grateful for the distraction from the drop below. "There's a betting pool?"

Squire giggled. "Yup!"

"Merde."

"Okay, let's do this!" Apple Squire zipped ahead and dove.

A faint greenish glow from her jagged horn illuminated the back of the U-Haul trailer — and the pavement whipping past a few metres from his dangling hooves! Chick bucked and squirmed.

Gavi's arms clutched at him, squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

"Ay!" Gavi yelled in his ear. "Stop that!"

Chick clenched his eyes shut as they flew into the calmer but buffeting air in the trailer's wake. Riding. Yes, it was like he was riding his Ural! The wind in his face. Sound of tires on the pavement. The bus' diesel engine wasn't that different from the big bike's chugging thunder. He started to relax. Gavi's hands shifted their grip and a jolt ran through him! Claws scratched as he squirmed and suddenly he was flung away from Gavi's warm feathers and his eyes popped open! He glimpsed the road beneath him, then a blur of dark shapes while his legs windmilled uselessly in the air, before he crashed into a pile of soft bags and much harder wood crates.

"Tabarnak!"

"Catch!" yelled Squire a moment before his saddlebags landed on his head. The tough fabric did little to shield him from being thumped by its hard contents.

Groaning, he shoved it off with a trembling hoof.

Squire's wings buzzed like a two-stroke at full throttle as she alighted into the trailer. The dim light from her horn turned its packed interior a sickly green.

"Okay… Well… I guess this is goodbye, Chicky."

Chick heaved himself up and slid and stumbled over the mound of luggage to throw his forelegs around her. His heart raced, feeling that it might burst, terrified from the rough landing and the sudden realisation that this truly was the last time he might see her.

Her horrid insect-like body creaked as he squeezed. "No. Not goodbye. À la prochaine. Until next time."

"Alah pro-chain", she buzzed against him, mangling the pronunciation badly. She giggled and pushed him back. "Good luck, Chicky."

"Merci. You too."

She jumped backwards out of the U-Haul, wings snapping out and buzzing as she flew up next to Gavi, who flapped hard to stay in the fast-moving trailer's wake.

"Bonne journée", he yelled. "Buy me… something nice… in Alexandria… eh?"

"I'll send you a postcard. Have a safe drive home, Old Crow."

Gavi waved and Apple Squire darted forward to grab the segmented overhead door's handle in her hooves. It rattle down and just before it banged shut she gave him a sad smile and wink. It glowed green at the bottom as she worked the latch and lock, sealing him in.

"Wait! How do I get out?"

Only the constant roar of wind and tires replied.

They were gone.

"Great. Shit! What in God's name am I doing?" he grumbled.

Stumbling over luggage and crates, he found his saddlebags by their scent. He grabbed them in his teeth and searched for somewhere comfortable to lie down and wait.

"-up out of nowhere and-"

"-hoofprints on my Samsonite!"

"-counts as a passenger if he was on the bus or not!"

"-if anything has been stolen, I'm going to-"

"Quiet!" a lanky beige stallion shouted at the arguing ponies, changelings, and even a zebra who crowded around Chick on the dock. They were cowed for a moment, but angry muttering and buzzing meant that this was far from over.

Chick kept a stiff smile plastered to his muzzle as Laura clomped and slid down the boarding ramp. Buttercup's squeezing forelegs made it difficult to breathe… at least that's what he told himself.

"Why are you here?" Laura asked with a sour frown.

"'Cause he missed saying 'goodbye', duh!" Buttercup nuzzled his cheek and yelled into his ear, "That's it, right?"

"Yes, of course."

He clung to Buttercup's excuse, one of many he'd thought of during the long ride to wherever the hell this was, and had rejected as a thin lie. Now, with Laura staring at him, he suddenly knew he really had missed them both and felt terrible for not seeing them off. No, that was a watered down fragment of how he felt, but essentially true. He hoped Laura would believe it and smile for him.

Laura's ears flicked back dismissively and she opened her mouth.

"A stowaway, Mr Harris?" A blue mare with short brown dreadlocks loudly interrupted. She stood at the top of the plank Laura had come down, pointed a hoof at Chick, and asked, "Does anypony here know this pony?" She waved a hoof at Buttercup, wrapped around Chick. "Other than you, obviously."

Buttercup giggled and nuzzled Chick's cheek again, still gripping a hold of him with her forelegs and wings.

"I do", admitted Laura.

"Me too."

A third feminine voice speaking up for him surprised Chick. He craned his neck to look past the zebra stallion's shoulder, and a rose-colour unicorn mare he couldn't remember ever meeting smiled at him from the canal boat while brushing white and red striped mane from her eyes.

"Umm… Hello?"

She grinned and said, "Disco. Remember?"

"Disco?" Was that her name? Did he know anypony named Disco?

She laughed, plainly amused by his confusion.

"Alright, you lot get up here and we'll have a little chat", said the mare standing on the canal boat. "The rest of you-" she pointed back to shore and commanded "-get back to unloading the bus and trailer. Please. We sail in an hour so shake a leg."

Chick nodded to himself. She was the pony in charge and the one he'd have to negotiate with. He patted Buttercup's back as the angry herd broke up around them and moved slowly back down the dock, muttering and giving him dark looks. Buttercup let him go, but stuck by his side as they followed 'Disco' and Laura up the ramp onto the boat, then down a short flight of stairs into the boat's cabin. Another mare, yellow as an ear of corn, was in the boat's kitchen, standing on a raised platform that ran along the counter, her forelegs busy in a sink of soapy water and dishes.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"That's what we're about to find out", said the dreadlocked mare who'd commanded them to board. She jumped up onto one of the bench seats on either side of the galley table, took off her white cap, and said, "Have a seat everypony."

Laura and Buttercup sat on the other bench. He shrugged out of his saddlebags and slid them beneath the table before joining them.

"Coffee and pancakes?" asked the disco mare.

"Oui, yes, please. You have coffee?" He couldn't help sounding eager.

"It's not really coffee", said Laura, crushing his hopes.

"Malt, chicory, and roasted acorns", said 'Disco'. "Plus our own secret blend of seven herbs and spices."

Chick deflated and shook his head. "Just water for me if you please, merci." He wouldn't insult his palette with fake coffee. Even the scent of it in the small cabin was kind of nauseating.

She nodded and walked over to the kitchen counter. Chick stared at her, trying to remember who she was. The three star-like sparkles on her rump weren't familiar. Wasn't there a pony a couple of years back who'd been hounding the town's scavs for 70's funk music? Was that her?

"So", said 'Dreadlocks', "I'm Captain Batten and this is my boat. Who are you and why did you sneak into the trailer? How did you sneak onto it? It was locked and you're no unicorn, so you didn't teleport."

"I've only ever seen my professor in Alexandria do that", 'Disco' called from over by the stove. "And he's a freak."

Chick put on his friendliest smile. "My name is Chicken Whiskers. I work as a Scavenger for Beantown and Nouvelle Acadie. My friends flew after your trailer and broke into it. Sorry about that, I didn't know they were going to do that. I wanted to land somewhere ahead and try to flag down your bus, but…" He sighed. "One of them has a strange sense of humour. She unlocked your trailer, they threw me inside, and locked me in."

"Apple Squire", Laura muttered darkly.

He shrugged. Good thing the changelings who drove the bus weren't here or there'd be no denying it. With a bit of luck, the Queen would never learn that Squire encouraged and helped him 'escape' her little matchmaking game.

Captain Batten hummed and turned to ask, "Cathy, you met him when you lived in Beantown?"

"I sure did!" said Cathy, the disco pony. "That crazy-pink fur is hard to forget, and he's the first pony who had any boogie music to trade. Seemed like a nice pony but uptight, you dig?" Cathy pouted cutely and he finally remembered her. Back then her mane had been pulled back into a bun, and she'd worn a big rainbow coloured knitted poncho since she hadn't acclimated to being naked.

Being new to life as a pony hadn't stopped her from hitting on him, though.

Captain Batten snorted and said, "Well, the Queen doesn't hire idiots or creeps, so I can believe that breaking into the trailer wasn't your idea."

"No, ma'am."

"Sir."

"I'm sorry?"

She frowned and said, "Don't call me 'ma'am'. It's 'Sir' or 'Captain Batten' or even just plain 'Captain' will do."

Oh.

Chick had heard rumours of this: a man Returning as a mare. "Yes sir, Captain. Pardon me."

It made him grateful that he'd only turned pink.

He, the Captain, waved a hoof and said, "Forget it. You didn't know. So, you broke into our trailer because you missed saying goodbye to your friends here?"

"Yes. We only arrived in Beantown the other day, so I was busy catching up with friends-"

Laura made a 'hmf' sound, and Chick hesitated, giving her a sidelong glance.

"-and I missed the bus by a few minutes. I also didn't learn until too late that both Buttercup and Laura were leaving. It was supposed to be just Buttercup and I'm, ah, responsible for bringing them both in."

The Captain nodded, obviously picking up the veiled reference to a finder's fee. Chick had thought very carefully about if he should mention that or not: on one hoof, it made for a convincing reason why he wanted to travel with them to their final destination. On the other, he didn't want to suggest the Captain might cheat him out of the reward for bringing Laura and Buttercup as far as Beantown.

Plates, utensils, steaming mugs, and a glass of water floated over to the table.

"Scoot over, hon", the mare who'd been cooking said to Captain Batten, who obligingly moved closer to the boat's side to make room. The cook hopped up onto the bench and extended a hoof across the table to Chick. "Hi, I'm Dolly Mix."

"Pleased to meet you."

They tapped hooves as Cathy arranged plates, cups, and glasses on the table. She sat next to Dolly Mix and everypony began passing the butter and syrup around, aside from Laura and Buttercup. The Captain asked them to tell him about Chick while they ate. Buttercup spoke about his regular visits to the Oak Point Farms and said he was always an honest trader and all-round helpful pony. That was nice to hear. Laura told them about their trip from Nouvelle Acadie. When she reached the part about Buttercup stowing away, Buttercup teased Chick about stealing her idea.

Captain Batten finished first and pushed his plate away, "I've heard enough. You seem like a good guy, Chick, and there's no harm done, anyway. So, you'll say your goodbyes and head back on the bus?"

"I'd like to go to Alexandria if that's possible."

"Really? Sweet!" chirped Buttercup as she hugged him.

"Won't Apple Squire miss you? And what about your motorcycle?" Chick was puzzled by how annoyed Laura sounded, and that she was trying to poke holes in his plan.

"She'll be fine and my bike is safely stored in its usual garage for the winter. It'll be there when I get back in the spring." Which would net The Captain another transportation fee.

Captain Batten hummed quietly and asked Cathy, "What do you think? Do we have room and board for one more?"

She floated over a clipboard and nodded. "We'll be good for food but it is kind of crowded this trip. We'll have to put him in cabin six with the other two bachelors."

"Nooo…", whined Buttercup as she snuggled closer. "He can stay with us. Right, Laura?"

"Well, I-"

"There'll be no unwed ponies sharing a bed under my roof!" stated Dolly Mix with a frown. She glanced between them and asked, "You're not married, are you?"

"Goodness, no!"

Chick tried not to wince.

Buttercup shook her head, "Nope. That'd just be weird. But it really wouldn't be a problem if he stayed with us! We slept together in Chick's tent for days on the way to Beantown."

The cook shook her head, "This isn't Chick's tent, young mare. You follow our rules while on board or you can take the bus back to Beantown."

Chick spoke up. "With the other stallions is fine with me. Thank you."

"Testosterone Central it is", quipped Cathy as she wrote on her clipboard.

He was not looking forward to sleeping next to other stallions and, from what he could see of the closest cabin, they were nothing more than a mattress on a shelf. They would be packed in like sardines! There was more room in the tent, and separate sleeping bags. But bunking with other stallions would be safer than being squeezed between Laura and Buttercup, rubbing shoulders and other things. Things that had a mind of their own. If Laura weren't engaged and liked him back, that could be heaven — as things were now, though, it would be torture.

Captain Batten said, "Alright, why don't you ladies go get your things from the bus while we negotiate payment."

Chick slipped down off of the seat and dragged his saddlebags out of their way. Buttercup bounded up the stairs and Laura stopped in front of him, stared at him with a frown on her delicate muzzle, and she seemed to make up her mind about something. Before he could say anything she stepped forward and gave him a quick, half-hearted hug with one leg around his shoulders.

She walked carefully up the stairs, tripping on the last step and stumbling, though she didn't fall. It was endearing, somehow, and he wanted to chase after her, make sure she was okay.

"Ahem." Captain Batten smiled and tapped the table top. "I hope you have something worthwhile to trade, Scav."

Chick grinned and patted his saddlebags. "Yes, sir. If you have a working laptop or tablet, I have several terabytes of games, movies, music, and books."

Sleep hadn't been easy in the dark uncomfortable cargo trailer, and every time he'd jolted awake he'd thought about his sales pitch. He wasn't in a great bargaining position, since he was fully committed to this course and would do whatever it took to be on this boat when it sailed. Not that the Captain knew it. So, Chick smiled casually and hoped they'd be interested in things to occupy the crew and passengers during a long and probably boring trip. Data was cheaper to trade than his horde of precious metal and gems, but secretly he knew that they were on the table if it came to that.

"Got any Parton?" asked Dolly Mix.

"Dolly, Stella, or Randy?"

She rolled her eyes and drawled, "Why, Dolly o'course, shugar."

"I have all her albums and movies." He'd found a RAID enclosure that had belong to a country music die-hard last year. Not really Chick's thing, but he dutifully watched and listened to all of it to make sure the files weren't corrupted.

She whinnied and bounced on the bench seat, causing Batten and Cathy's ears to flick back. "Eeee… You have Nine to Five?"

"Oui."

She gazed at her husband with pleading eyes and a gleeful grin on her muzzle.

Batten chuckled and said, "Welcome aboard, Mr Whiskers."

Author's Note

One of the problems with using a tool like ProWritingAid is that it takes foreeever to edit a chapter. :twilightoops:

There's always one more mistake. One more tweak. Ugh. I hope this chapter isn't 'over cooked' as a result. Please PM me if you spot a typo that snuck through the wire or if you think something feels off with my writing.

In case you don't know; Chapter 9 got a thorough reworking after it's initial publication. You may want to go back to re-read it. The basics are the same but I tried to make the characters a bit deeper & more emotional. I also added a little to Chapter 8; just Gavi mentioning to the girls that Chick had been married but she died before the Event.

( Edit: I noticed some really obvious mistakes after hitting publish. :raritycry: )

Now with edits courtesy of Cross Lament

Edit: Revised 2020-08-14

11 - NY Canals Lock 12

Author's Note

Hello & welcome back.

Just a quick note for anyone who's already read this far and has been waiting for the next arc to begin: chapter 10 has been 'massaged'. Mostly grammar and sentence structure, with a few tweaks to characters and their interaction. The story is the same.

As always, please PM me if you spot a typo. Merci. :twilightsmile:

11 - NY Canals Lock 12

"Laaauraaaa… Hey, Laura. Come on, wake up."

Laura groaned and pushed the blanket back from her muzzle. Light seeped around the little window's curtain, making her eyes ache. She felt groggy and barely rested, but at least her nap hadn't been interrupted with queer dreams this time. She'd lain down and gone out like a light.

Buttercup's yellow-furred face and brighter grin hovered at the hallway side of the cabin where she'd pushed through the thick curtain. "Nilla says it's the last lock today an' I thought you might wanna watch this time."

Laura licked her parched lips and asked, "Nilla?"

"Yeah, you know, Vanilla Grey? We met her this morning."

"Oh, right, the beige filly." Laura yawned as she struggled out from under the bedclothes. "What time is it?"

"Almost sunset. You sure did sleep a lot." Buttercup hopped into their cabin and dragged Laura's cardigan over from where it'd ended up crammed into a corner of the tiny room. She helped Laura dress in the cramped space, holding a sleeve open so Laura could wiggle a hoof into it. She said, "Some townponies on shore helped us with the first couple, but Cathy's done the last few with just her magic. She's awesome!"

Groggy and still tired, Laura felt a touch of pride as she easily managed the jump down from their bed. It was further than the hop from Chick's sidecar, but she didn't hesitate and her legs didn't let her down. Not even a stumble. The boat's deck vibrated very slightly beneath her hooves as they walked toward the bow. It was quiet aside from some clattering pots and chatter from the galley and murmured conversation from a cabin with its privacy curtains drawn. Laura had been surprised when, once everything and everypony was safely aboard, the boat had been untied and began silently backing away from the dock.

It seemed that stallion, Sang, was correct when he guess it used an electric motor.

Thank God for that! Or thank whoever had taken the trouble to convert it, anyway. She had had more than enough of loud diesel engines banging away while she was trying to sleep, thank you very much!

She followed Buttercup up the steps to the bow where Vanilla Grey stood.

"Hey, Nilla."

"Hi, Butts. Miss Smith."

The sun hovered near the horizon, blinding Laura for a moment. She winced and held a hoof up to shade her eyes. "Hello, Vanilla. Please call me Laura, Miss Smith is too formal."

"Okay, Laura." Vanilla pawed at the rope coiled up on the deck and said, "Butts said you might want to see how we handle getting through a lock."

"Yes, we have many canals in England, but I've never gongoozled."

Buttercup snorted and asked, "Gon-what?"

"Gongoozled." Laura chuckled and looked ahead with her eyes squinted as they powered around a bend in the river. "It's a silly term for watching canal boats go through a lock. A bit like train spotting, but wetter. Is that it?"

A steel girder bridge stretched across a frothing rapid in the river, and on the right side were a pair of small white two-story huts. The Freedom aimed straight for the watery gap between them, with the Fair Dinkum trailing a few metres behind.

Vanilla nodded and said, "Yep. We'll tie up for the night once we're through."

She flipped a white bumper over the side and the bottom end of the plastic cylinder dragged in the water, adding a rhythmic splash as the boat powered through the slow moving verdigris-green water. Concrete walls much taller than the boat drifted past as they sailed into the lock, past two immense grey doors with rusty-red steel showing through where paint had flaked away. The boat slowed and stopped beside the shore-side wall. It was stained dark until a metre or so from the top.

Vanilla stretched over the boat's side to slip a rope around a taught steel cable which ran up the wall. She looped it loosely around and tied it to a cleat on the deck, securing the boat. Laura guessed that the loop would slide up the cable as the lock filled, keeping them close to the wall but letting the boat rise.

A few minutes later, the Fair Dinkum pulled alongside. Vanilla and an unfamiliar yellow ochre mare on the other boat tied them together at the bow. Laura and Buttercup stood out of the way while they worked. More white plastic bumpers hung between the boats, keeping their hulls from bashing together.

"Okay", said Vanilla, once the last knot was tied. "Head to the stern 'cause that's where the show is starting. I've seen it a zillion times, but you newbies won't want to miss it!"

Buttercup nudged Laura toward the door. "She right! Let's-" She gasped as a large black stallion squeezed through the other boat's narrow cabin door and stepped onto its bow.

Laura's couldn't help staring too. He was huge!

For a pony.

Thick muscles like knotted cables moved beneath glossy black coat which was marred around his neck and broad shoulders with ragged pink scars. Laura's ears folded back as Buttercup made a loud trilling whistle.

She ducked as the filly's wings snapped open!

And got clouted on the side of her head, anyway. "Yipe!"

"Ouch! Owwwww…" Buttercup pulled her wings partly closed and nuzzled the one she'd smacked Laura with.

Vanilla Grey laughed at them while the big stallion snorted, a deep rumble that Laura swore made the deck vibrate, and rolled his slitted yellow eyes. His own wings flexed, and they were the oddest thing — leathery and bat-like rather than coated with feathers like Buttercup's.

Not that those soft feathers made Laura's cheek sting any less.

"Come on, we don't want to miss the light show", said Vanilla with a giggle bubbling in her voice. She pushed at Buttercup, who bumped into Laura, and all three of them stumbled downstairs.

Buttercup muttered, "Sorry, Laura."

"What on earth was that all about?" she asked as her ears flicked up and down.

They walked past cabins with ponies lounging in them and Buttercup whispered, "You saw that stud!" As if that explained anything.

Vanilla snickered behind them and said, "Control yourself, filly. Eventide wouldn't be interested in a skinny little brat like you, anyway."

Buttercup grumbled, "Great… Another untouchable hunk."

They passed through the boat's crowded galley, where Dolly Mix and Cathy prepared dinner on their left, and several passengers sat round the table on the right, playing cards and chatting. Chick amongst them. Buttercup rolled her eyes and tipped her head at him, and Laura's lips squeezed into a sour frown. She may have forgiven him for not seeing them off from Beantown, but she was still annoyed over the reason why: Apple Squire. That someone who'd been so dependable and kind would use a prostitute jarred her sense of right and wrong.

Yes, she knew that some men went to them, and yes, she knew some women — and mares, apparently — chose of their own free will a life of having sex with strangers in exchange for money. But it was disgusting and sinful, and she'd never personally known someone who was involved in that kind of thing… until now.

All the muscles in her tummy clenched.

She felt ill just seeing him.

"Come on! She's starting!" Vanilla pushed between them and clattered up the stairs. Laura and Buttercup followed her onto the boat's stern.

Captain Harris sat high up in the elevated chair by the boat's wheel, overseeing the rose-colour unicorn, Cathy, who stood by the stern rail. Her horn was brightly lit with a pulsing blue light and her legs spread and braced on the wood deck. Cathy grunted and leaned forward, like she was pushing something heavy with her forehead. A few metres away, one of the gigantic metal doors at the end of the lock glowed slightly, just barely visible, and groaned as it moved. It slowly swung away from the wall, swirling and churning the water, until it blocked half of the lock's entrance. The heavy canal boat actually surged forward a little, rocking beneath Laura's hooves.

Cathy let out her breath in a heavy puff and panted, "One down. One to go."

Her horn briefly dimmed and then lit up again. Glittering lines of electric blue magic spun out and wove into a complex pattern in the air, just in front of her. The spider web of lines and runes looked like something from a Lord of the Rings laser light-show. Cathy nodded, and it shot off to strike the other lock door, covering it briefly with a glittering web of sparkles. She braced her legs again and 'pushed' with her glowing horn, slowly shoving the other door closed. With a boom and splash it settled into place against the lip of the first door, sealing off the downriver end of the lock.

Cathy's horn flickered and went out. She turned around and noticed her awed audience. She grinned, raised her forelegs in the air and cried, "Tadah!"

"Woah", Buttercup breathed.

"That was amazing!" said Laura once she'd caught her breath.

Cathy grinned and swiped a hoof across her sweaty forehead. "Thank you. Thank you. I'm here all week, folks. Heh. Well, I have to go forward and open the sluice gate next. Excuse me." She walked around them and down into the cabin.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" asked Vanilla. "Wish I was a unicorn."

"You're perfect just the way you are", said Captain Harris as he jumped down from the chair.

Vanilla smiled shyly. "Thanks, Pa."

"Get along, now. Man your pole in case she shifts while the lock fills."

"Aye, sir." Vanilla saluted and scampered off towards the bow, taking the walkway down the left side of the boat.

Buttercup took off from the stern and flew over the lock to get a bird's-eye view.

Laura stepped back as Captain Harris retrieved a long pole from the cabin roof

She decided to head for the bow, in case there would be another impressive show of magic. Moving carefully along the walkway along the side of the canal boat was less nerve wracking with the huge slab of concrete wall right there. Water slapped and popped in the narrow gap between hull and wall.

Cathy sat at the bow with her horn glowing and she had her tongue stuck out. "Hmm… Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"Oh, hi." Cathy squinted and tipped her head to one side. "The gear for opening the sluice gate. It's around here some- Ah! Gotcha."

Laura didn't see any change, other than Cathy's horn glowing brighter, so it seemed there wouldn't be a spectacular magic show this time.

"There used to be motors to do this at the push of a button", Cathy said wistfully while concentrating on whatever she was doing. The fur on her forehead and neck looked damp and dark with sweat.

Vanilla Grey stood nearby with her forelegs wrapped around a long pole. She held it pressed against her barrel with one end resting lightly against the lock's wall. Laura noticed movement in the water a few meters away from the boat's bow. A churning in the water.

"There we go." Cathy's horn-glow faded. "In about half an hour we'll be level with the shore."

Chick swung his head to the left and the sharp edge of the sickle he held in his mouth cut easily through a swath of grass stems, releasing a sweet green odour. A couple more swings of the curved blade, and spat out the wooden handle, catching it in his hooves. He set it aside and gathered up a bundle of grass in his forelegs.

"That's enough, Chick." Dolly Mix trotted over with a basket balanced on her back, filled with pungent leafy plants. "I found a thicket of Garlic Mustard", she said in an enthusiastic tone. "We'll have a delicious, fresh pesto for lunch tomorrow before we dock at Rome. Perfecto!"

Chick made a polite if humourless chuckle and dumped a load of grass into his larger basket. He'd joined the foraging team to have something to take his mind off of things, but it hadn't taken long to gather enough grass and dandelion leaves for salad, even for the dozen or so ponies aboard the canal boats. The shore was, like most places, overgrown with grass and weeds left to flourish now that mankind wasn't buzzing lawns flat and spraying chemicals everywhere.

He sighed and gazed around at their overnight stop.

The Mohawk River dominated the area, with its rapids by the far shore burbling away. A steel frame bridge, its green paint almost all peeled away to reveal brown rust, spanned the river. Swallows darted around it, snatching insects from the air, sometimes chased by Buttercup and Blue Skies, another young pegasus filly. Crewponies worked aboard the boats, securing them with additional ropes, transferring cargo, or lounging while waiting for supper. Most of the passengers had come ashore to stretch their legs after a day cooped up inside… the first of many. Some helped gather plants to supplement dinner, some explored the ruined canal master's house, while the rest trotted up and down the concrete path beside the lock.

Laura was there, by the boat, gamely doing her hopping exercise as she worked on learning to gallop. She hopped, hopped, hopped, stumbled, and said something to Vanilla Grey, who was walking along beside her giving advice.

"Heh. Thought so", said Dolly Mix, more to herself, but Chick couldn't help overhearing.

He blinked and looked at her. "What?"

She chuckled. "Nothing. Come on, let's get this aboard so I can finish supper. I hope the others found some mushrooms or fruit. Mmm… could go for some stewed plums and cream or baked apples."

He followed her toward the Freedom's stern, a path that crossed Laura's.

"Ah, looking good there, Laura." Pas fort! Was that the best he could think to say to her?

She looked at him like the idiot he was, eyes lidded and unimpressed. "Thank you."

"Come on, Chick", Dolly Mix called as she headed down into the kitchen.

Chick coughed and trotted on board to escape Laura's heavy gaze. She was plainly still pissed with him, though he didn't know why. He'd apologised for not saying 'goodbye' and, now that he was here, it was kind of irrelevant, anyway. Wasn't it? He hated being in the dog house with no idea how to get out.

"Set the grass up on the counter", Dolly Mix said while she tended to a bubbling pot on the stove. "Would you mind rinsing the salad, hon? You can set it in the colander to drain."

Chick nodded and stepped up on the wood platform to reach the tap. He rinsed off his dirty hooves before reaching for a bunch of dandelion leaves. Laura bunny-hopped past the window while he dunked them under the trickle of water. She was so determined to learn how to gallop, but somehow couldn't quite get the rhythm of which leg to move when because she was over-thinking it and nervous of screwing up. It was almost humorous, but his lips curled down in a pensive frown.

"Relax, hon." Dolly bumped shoulders with him and reached for a bunch of leafy Garlic Mustard to rinse. "Just wait and she'll let you know when she wants to talk."

He snorted slightly and shook his head. "I'm that obvious?"

Dolly chuckled. "Nah. But there's always a bit of passenger drama to enjoy on these trips. I'm just glad it's Laura you're after and not that slip of a pegasus."

"Buttercup? Hah! Not a chance. That annoying brat is more like a niece to me."

"Good." Dolly shook off her hoofful of plants, dropped them into the colander, and reached for more. "You and Laura would make a cute couple, so I'm rooting for you."

Chick sighed and shook his head as the subject of their conversation hopped past, heading in the other direction with Vanilla Grey following along and making encouraging noises. Cheering her on.

"It's not that easy", he muttered. She was loyal to 'her Thomas' and wouldn't give him a second look. This whole trip was a blind hope that he would reject her, hurt her, and what kind of stallion wished that on the mare he liked? Truly, he was a scavenger, waiting to pick at the pieces of a catastrophe.

"It never is. Well, put it out of your mind for now and get a wiggle on or we'll never finish supper. Here-" she passed him a large knife "-dice that grass. It'll be a bit tough, this late in the year."

He nodded and scooped up some damp grass, moved it to the wood cutting board, and got back to work. It was something to do. Something useful.

Laura was boggled at the amount of food Dolly Mix produced from the boat's tiny kitchen!

A hearty vegetable stew over mashed potatoes, tray after tray of hot biscuits, and a tremendous bowl of salad - though that was admittedly mostly lawn clippings with a few slices of tomato, cucumber, and cheese. It tasted wonderful to Laura anyway, and her flat teeth made short work of the more fibrous patches.

There wasn't enough room at the table for all of the passengers and crew, so the younger ponies and their parents were allowed to sit while everyone else had to find somewhere on the boats to sit down to eat. She went to the Freedom's bow with Buttercup, Vanilla, and another pegasus filly named Blue Skies. The three younger ponies had quickly become friends, and Laura couldn't help smiling at their odd and enthusiastic chatter about life as a filly. It reminded her of middle school, though she was usually at the heart of any conversation instead of just sitting nearby.

Chick sat on the steps down into the cabin, frequently glancing over his shoulder at her with a mournful expression.

She refused to acknowledge his existence and focused on eating, listening in on the fillies, and gazing up at the spectacular spread of stars overhead.

After dinner she helped dry dishes in the cramped cabin, which became even more crowded when the Captain asked for everypony to gather for some kind of announcement.

He sat at the table, up high where everypony could see him, with Dolly by his side. "I know not everypony is comfortable talking about the Event or before times", he said. "But it's become something of a tradition on board to share our stories. Don't feel like you have to if you don't want to and you can step out and stargaze if you'd prefer." Captain Batten waited for a few minutes, but nopony left the crowded cabin.

"Okay then. I'll start with the obvious question that's on everypony's mind: I was a man before the Event.

"The love of my life and wife, Dorothy here-" he wrapped a foreleg around Dolly's shoulder in a sideways hug "-was eight months pregnant and I had the bright idea to rent the Freedom and take her on a relaxing cruise before she was due."

Dolly Mix chuckled and said, "It wasn't so relaxing after the Event, was it dear?"

"Nope. It caught us while we were puttering across Oneida Lake, heading for one of our favourite fishing spots. Suddenly it was noon, and I had to learn real fast how to shut off the engine and weigh anchor with hooves! Vanilla came along a couple of weeks later, and before we knew it we'd been living on board for months. We decided to just make our home here on the Freedom since we didn't have anything to go back to. Any questions?"

Buttercup's hoof shot up into the air. "What did you do before the Event?"

The Captain groaned and shook his head. "I sold life insurance, but before that I was enlisted in the Navy and my idea of an ideal vacation was crewing aboard a forty-footer in the Caribbean. My heart's always been on the water, so at least the Event gave me that."

"I was a waitress", Dolly said with a nasal giggle. "So no career change for me."

That caused a ripple of laughter around the cabin, after which Captain Batten asked, "Anypony else want to share their story?"

Put on the spot, everypony shared nervous glances. Laura was about to volunteer when one of Buttercup's new friends, Blue Skies, held up a feathery wing and said, "I'll go!"

She cleared her throat and said, "Ahem. My sister, Jenny-"

"Prickly Pear!" a younger earth pony mare sitting beside her interrupted.

"You were Jenny back then! Will you let me tell it?"

Prickly Pear folded her forelegs together in a grouchy pose, but nodded.

"Jenny and I were too excited and couldn't sleep. We'd never been to Disney World before and had napped during the long, boring drive there. So I figured, since we were in the safest place for kids, we'd look around while our parents were sleeping. We got on the elevator but it stopped and the lights went out and we'd turned into ponies!"

"Best dream ever!" Prickly Pear laughed.

Blue Skies rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought too, at first, but we were stuck in that elevator for hours before I managed to get the door open. We wandered around the rides and stuff, and it was really creepy! Nopony around at all! The trees and plants were growing everywhere, and some parts were all swampy and full of gators."

"That's when ah showed up", said an orange furred earth pony stallion lying on the floor next to Prickly Pear. His voice had a thick, Southern US twang. He chuckled at the annoyed look Blue Skies gave him. "Okay, okay, tha's all ah'll say, it's your story."

Blue Skies nodded. "Darn right! But, yeah, Sang showed up-"

"Short for Sanguinelli, which is a blood orange cul-tee-var."

"I said: that's when Sang showed up! Ahem! Anyway, we lived at Disney World for a few months, met up with some other ponies, and moved to Orlando where they'd set up a little pony town.

"We left a letter in our parent's room, but… Yeah…"

Laura's heart went out to the young mare as she hesitated and frowned, plainly upset over the memory of having to abandon hope for ever seeing her parents again.

Prickly Pear sniffled and rubbed at her eyes.

Sang sat up and wrapped a foreleg around each of the sisters, hugging them to his orange-furred chest - a very protective and fatherly gesture. Prickly Pear buried her face against him, and Blue Skies let out a shuddering sigh.

He coughed and said, "Well, anyway, we all lived with the Orlando commune for a couple of years afore one of the ponies on our weather team warned us that a big ass hurricane was coming. A really, really bad one. Most of us voted to head north as fast as we could! Storm caught us in the outskirts of Atlanta and, holy crap, it was a tough one, even that far inland.

"After the flooding subsided ah figured we'd head for New York City, since the girls have… had… relatives there, but we never made it.

"We could see smoke from huge fires and hear gunshots from miles away, so we snuck on past and wound up in Beantown. Ah saw on the job bulletin board that Alexandria is looking for ponies experienced with growing exotic plants and ah figure oranges are plenty exotic for Illinois, raight?"

The question seemed to be for the girls, as Sang squeezed and gently shook them.

Blue Skies chuckled and said, "Right. Haven't seen one since we left Florida, have we?"

"Nope." Sang shook his head and heaved a theatrical sigh.

"I want an orange", Prickly Pear sniffled into his damp chest fur.

Sang chuckled. "Me too, girl. Me too."

"Sorry, we're fresh out of oranges, honey." Dolly Mix smiled warmly and said, "I hope you can grow them, Sang. Just imagine! Fresh squeezed orange juice, lemon meringue pie, margaritas!"

A murmur of approval ran through the gathered ponies. It had only been about a month since Laura last drank a cool glass of orange juice, and even she suddenly felt a craving.

"Okay, let's have one more story tonight and we'll put something on the TV", said Captain Batten. He pointed to her. "Laura isn't it? You looked like you want to share how you Returned?"

Laura nodded. "Yes, thank you. Well, as you may guess from my accent, I'm from England. My boyfriend, Thomas, and I were on a little holiday to Canada when-"

"Just for once in my life, I'd like to sleep until I woke up natural."

"Is your fire still in?"

"Yes, Mrs Patmore."

"Ooh, my, will wonders never cease?"

Chick sighed. He'd seen Downton Abbey many times and, though it was okay, he had no desire to sit through it again. It was a full-house of passengers and crew scattered around the small room, and Chick sat by the stairs at the stern-edge of the herd. The dining table was lowered and covered in cushions, turning it into a make-shift bed with half a dozen ponies lounging on it, including Laura. He watched her from the corner of his eye, but if she felt his gaze, she ignored it. Her eyes were glued to a bright television panel that had been folded out from a cabinet on a metal arm.

"Whatever are you doing there, crouching in the dark?"

"I didn't like to touch the curtains with my dirty hands."

"Quite right, too."

He blew a breath through his nostrils, a quiet snort with a hint of whinny, and tip-hooved up the stairs to the boat's stern deck.

With legs of lead, he slowly walked the plank to shore. He wandered away from the crowded boat to the end of the concrete pier and sat beside one of the little white huts which contained a defunct motor and transmission. Water seeped between the lock's huge steel gates, splashing and gurgling and drowning any sound coming from the canal boats.

Listening to Laura's story had been miserable.

She told it well enough and with more dramatic flare than he could have. From her lips it became an epic adventure, and she painted him as the stalwart hero who'd safely escorted her to Beantown.

When everypony turned to look, he'd forced his ears up and plastered a depreciating smile on his face.

"Just doing my job", he'd told them, like it was nothing, really.

When Laura gushed about her fiance — how he'd arranged her rescue on that deadly cliff; that he was a doctor, selflessly helping ponies in this new world; and he patiently waited for her to join him in fabled Alexandria — it tore him up inside. But he stayed quiet. Kept his ears up. Smiled and stomped his hooves at the right moments, along with everypony else.

That look Dolly had given him… Was it pity? A warning to stay away and not cause trouble? He wasn't sure, but he doubted she was 'rooting for him' after hearing Laura's romantic fable. He couldn't blame her for that. Was his only hope that Laura would be dumped by her fiance and throw herself into his arms, sobbing and broken? How could he desire such a thing?

Merde.

He missed his motorcycle. Not that cranky Ural, though it had a rough charm, but his smooth-as-silk K1200GT from before the Event. He'd had to leave it behind in Montreal, where one of his last acts as a human being had been to park the sleek blue BMW on the street in front of his apartment. Unprotected and untouched through nearly twenty years of bleaching summer sun and harsh Canadian winters had left it a rusting ruin. He'd wept to see it lying dead on its side in a snow drift, even if he couldn't ride it now, anyway. At times such as these, when he felt lost and hurt, he use to take it bombing around the sweeping curves of Parc national de la Mauricie, chasing a Zen-like peace and focus. Far better to work through his aggression that way, risking his neck to get a knee down, than to endure another screaming argument with Alice.

Ugh. He shook his head clear of sad memories, stood, and wagged his tail to brush dirt from his rump.

Maybe Sang would be up for that game of chess he'd promised? Then a swallow from a bottle of distilled alcohol he'd stashed in his saddlebags to help him sleep.

It was going to be a long voyage.