A Pox life.

by Isenlyn

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random, Slice of Life, Fallout, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe
Length: 8450

The misadventures of Salt, a three tail Kitune, When his second personality self-named Pox takes over.

This is just stories to have fun with the character of FelixFloetryFox
Go see his story Fallout Equestria : FoxFire

It's just nonsens, and goes nowhere, but it's gonna be cute, in the middle of the Equestrian Wasteland.
Every chapter is written on the fly with no planning. We'll see where this will lead us and what secrets will appear about Pox. ;)

Published 2018-08-10 13:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-10-05 16:49:59 UTC

Saloon games

Salt walked through the swinging doors of the pony saloon instantly taking in the atmosphere. Hatred oozed from everypony in there. Not so much hatred than disdain, distrust and a primal hatred coming from centuries of racism. The thing is, being an equine in Equestria offers you 50 percent chances to suffer racism. Being a three tailed fox coming from a foreign country and looking as nice as a rusty nail board, the probabilities quickly raise up to 100 percent.

The hostile crowd silently watching Salt did nothing to block his path when he slowly reached the counter, still trying to judge how tough was the newcomer. Anyone knowing him would have noticed the slight limp in his foreleg, his drained look and unfocused eyes, but after all, you don’t come out unscathed from an encounter with a pair of twins two tailed dark kitsune. One was invoking shadowy yokai while the other tried to drain his life force every time he got distracted. It took him a while to figure out they were using their illusion not to hide themselves, but each hiding the other one. Once that was taken care of, the battle didn’t last too long, but he had lost most of his supplies and particularly his canteen. Two days in the wasteland without water had taken a toll on him, and a bunch of fuckers wouldn’t stand between him and some water.

“A big glass of water.” Salt harshly asked the bartender while taking a big puff on his last cig. His cigarette glow red, consuming a big part of the filter then fell to the ground.

“Fuck.”

The bartender landed a big glass in front of him as demanded, and Salt dived in. Instantly the sharp taste and hard punch of high liquor hit him, though his body was in so much need of water that he couldn’t stop himself of finishing the glass in one go. He could broke the bartender’s leg later. What Salt didn’t expected was that his resources, both magical and physical were so low that the alcohol whacked him way harder that it should have been. And worst, he could feel the aftertaste of spiritual magic in his blood.

Salt tried to get up and shout the at the bartender to bring real water to him, maybe using a bit of illusion magic to make everyone stay put. But that did not happen. Salt felt himself tilt forward then hit the counter. He never felt the floor.

Pox opened his eyes. He was on the floor. That was strange, ponies don’t stay on the floor. Then he realized a lot of ponies were looking at him, smiling.

“Hi” he said in a cheerful tone. “Pox is Pox. And Pox is thirsty, can Pox have apple juice, pleaaase.”

Ponies began to laugh, that was always a good sign in Pox mind. A big pony behind a strange table gave him a glass of apple juice and asked. “Pox ? that’s a strange name, even for a strange guy like you. Where does that come from ?”

Pox grabbed the glass with his teeth and with a tilt of the head drank all the juice while spilling a good third on himself.

“Pfuuah, Pox is Pox.” he began. “Because everypony is a kind pony, and some ponies flies and some ponies do magic and some ponies are strange. But ponies say Pox is a fox, so Pox is a pony fox, so Pox is Pox.”

Silence reign while everypony tried to make sens of the explanation. Then the crowed exploded in laughter again. Pox was happy, he made new friends. That’s when Pox growled. Everypony looked at the fox that in turn looked at his belly.

“Pox is hungry. Can Pox has a treat ?” He cutely trotted toward the nearest mare, which seemed to be a mercenary of some sort with a leather armor reinforced with metal plate and a long rifle strapped to her side. Her face became confused and alarmed when this dark three tailed fox almost as big as her sat in front of her with the biggest two toned puppy eyes she had ever seen.

“Can Pox has a treat, pleeeaase ?” Pox continued. “Pox can do a roll. Can Pox get treats if he do a roll ?”

The mare shuffled her hooves then looked at the bartender. “Well I’ve got nothing, miste..eeeer, Pox. But I maybe can buy you something to eat.” she took a step back from the oozing cuteness before her. “Hey, Bobby, give the little guy something, put it on my tab.”

The bartender passed the counter and came to a stop before Pox, holding a bag fancybuck-cake.

“Did you say something about a roll ?” he asked mischievously.

“Yes.” Pox answered innocently. “Pox can do rolls.”

“Then, do some rolls for me, and I’ll give you the cakes.” offered Bobby.

Pox got to the ground and rolled on his back “and hop, Pox rolls.” He rolled the other way “And hop, Pox rolls. Can Pox has a treat now.”

The Bartender was laughing harder than the rest of the crowd and tossed a cake to Pox. “Continue little guy, there’s more coming.” And then pox rolled right and left each time punctuating his action by an overly sweet “And hop, Pox rolls.”

The little game continued for a while, everyone laughing and chatting about the fox doing child play on the floor when a female voice said “Oh come on, don’t be like that, he’s just a cutie.”

Something snapped. No, not a metaphorical snap, like “snap out of it” or any realization. A big snapping sound was heard and with the wailing of Bobby the bartender screaming “My leg !” it was soon clear that the snapping sound came from right under his knee were his leg now took an unnatural sharp turn.

Salt rose up from the ground with all his presence, seeming to dwarf everypony around him. Light grew dark, air smelt electric and far away from the town the screaming could be heard.

“DAMN YOU ! I WILL FIND YOU ! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, SOMEDAY I WILL FIND YOU, AND YOU’LL TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO ME !!!!!”

Nowadays, the legend remain of a powerful spirit under the traits of a three tailed fox that came to the town and lured the towns folks into a funny game before destroying the saloon. But strangely enough, if the legend doesn’t run out on crazy details about the display of power the spirit used, the legend also maintain that only one pony was injured that day.

Merchant Shenanigans

Something wet touched Rough Barter’s nose. He was a light sleeper, and nothing could get near him while sleeping without waking him up. That is with the exception of his trusty dog, Rango. He opened his eyes, expecting his old trail pal to be licking him awake for a new day of travel and bargaining. What Rough saw was definitively canine, and definitely not his dog. Two big eyes, one blue, one yellowish were on him, belonging to an almost pony sized canine creature draped in a dark cloak. He flailed his hooves in surprise mixed with an instinctive fear coming from being a prey faced by a predator, and recoiled up to being back to the wall of the old ruined house he had found to pass the night.

The strange creature exclaimed a eep of surprise and pain when one of Rough’s hooves connected with his muzzle.

“Ouch, Pony hit Pox !” The creature whimpered scratching his muzzle with a dark gray paw.

During the few moments of uncertainty that followed, Rough the wandering merchant took in the situation. Outside the window his brahmin was munching some dead grass, on a corner of the empty ruined room, Rango was sit and watched the strange creature in the middle of the room, but not with fear or distrust, but an uncharacteristic sympathy, and in the middle of the room was… something.

The creature that had awaken him was almost as big as a pony, and had some morphological resemblance to one, but was clearly a fox. He looked pretty old, had a dark gray coat and wore some scars, showing that he had some story behind him. But strangely, despite being a predator, not a single drop of aggressiveness emanated from him. In fact, every part of his body language, look and little red tongue sticking out his muzzle claimed for a naive kind puppy.

“Excuse me, errr… sir.” Rough began, catching the attention of the fox in front of him. “I didn’t mean to hit you. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

The fox looked at him, and took a step foreward.

“You don’t hate Pox ?”

“Hate what ?” The merchant replied.

“Pox.”

“Err, like being ill ?” Rough tried, his mind not quite on tracks.

“Pox isn’t ill.” Said the fox, tilting his head.

“What ? What’s Pox ?”

“Pox is Pox.” Said the dark vulpine with a proud pose.

“Uuuh… ?” Rough blanked for a moment. “Wait, is that your name ?”

“Yes, Pox is Pox.”

“Hem, okay, let’s start over.” Rough dusted him self, put on his salespony smiled and bowed a little. “Hi, the name’s Rough Barter. Nice to meat you Pox. Excuse me for the misunderstanding. I’m not used to meet, err.. foxes ? Right ? So the name sounded strange to me.” He declaimed using all his talents to put people at ease and make friends.

Pox giggled. “Once again pony says it. Ponies always says Pox is a fox. But Pox is a pony.”

Pox was happy. Once again a pony was smiling to him. And smiles were always a win to make new friends.

“You’re a… pony ?” Rough asked, taken aback. “That’s seems, impossible. Does it cover some crazy stories ?” He asked, ready to take anything in. After all, you don’t travel the wasteland without hearing some crazy stuff. It could be linked to Poison Joke, taint, or some old ministries affair.

“Why would it ?” Pox answered, once again troubling the merchant. “Everypony is a pony. Pox is a pony, but other ponies say Pox is a fox, so Pox is a pony fox, so Pox is Pox.” Pox once again looked proud of him.

“That… makes some sens, I guess.” Rough said, aiming to change the confusing subject. “But, I’d like to hear the story that led you to wake me up though.”

Pox thought fox a second, then beamed. “Pox is hungry.” he exclaimed. Then trotted to come face to face with the merchant and sit. “Do you have a treat for Pox ?”

If you didn’t know Rough Barter, you’ll think he would be quite hard on the bargaining side. But in reality, he always had a soft spot for people in needs. So he smiled kindly to the strangely acting fox. Fox that was now shaking his tail with impatience, and that was a hypnotic sight. The tail was making strange round movement and it took a moment for Rough to realize there were three of them.

“Ok, little guy. Here’s the deal. I don’t give things for free...”

“I can do a roll !” Pox interrupted excitedly, certain that would be the perfect price.

“Errr, no, not necessary. I’m gonna give you some dried up raddog meat, in exchange of the story of how you came here. Is it okay with you ?” He asked

Pox’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Dried meat ? Pox want ! Yes, Pox want !”

The merchant took out some dried up meat and gave some to Pox and Rango. It was strange to watch them, as both acted the same. They maintain the meat on the ground with their paws and tore up chunks of meat they barely munch before swallowing in one go. Needless to say, Rough felt a bit foreign of the display in front of him. All his instinct told him this fox was a danger, but all his social knowledge told him this guy was the sweetest that ever will be. And above all that, his dog that was with him for years was now eating next to this Pox, and never looked threaten. If anything, Rango looked like he found a nice dominant dog to live with.

When pox was done, Rough asked him “So, I’ve got some route to cover. Do you mind accompany me and talk on the way or do you prefer take your time here ?”

Pox seemed to ponder the proposition way harder than necessary then brighten with the cutest of mischievous smiles. “Pox can talk on the way. In exchange, can Pox has juice ?” He once again shook his tails.

Rough chuckled. “You’re learning quick, little guy.” He grabbed a Shimmering Sunset Sarsaparilla, a limited edition with an orange mare with a red and yellow mane posing on the label, and put it in front of Pox. Pox that in turn looked at it like a cat a mouse, then grabbed it with his paws and tried to unscrew the cap. That didn’t work and soon Pox was rolling on the floor bottle in paws and bottleneck in mouth emitting strange growling sounds.

Rough looked at the display for a long moment his mind blank before the absurdity of a grown up fox unable to uncap a bottle and lost in the act of nibbling through hard glass.

“Hem, want me to uncap it for you, little guy ?” He kindly asked.

Pox instantly got up, sat in front of the bottle and said in his most kind voice. “Yes please, mister Nice.”

Rough chuckled once more, something he only did as often with his daughter. “here.” he said, uncapping the bottle with a swift movement of his hoof.

Pox grabbed the bottle and drank it in what go, spilling a good part of it on himself as was his way of drinking. Then Pox began to burp.

“heehee, *hip* that’s a fun juice *burp*. It’s fuzzy and feels funny. *burp*”

Rough was now packing his camping gear and loading up his brahmin.

“Ready Max, Berta ?”

The two headed cow nodded it’s two heads in anti-rhythm. “Let’s go, then. Rango, be on the lookout. Pox, stay with me, please.”

The group began its walk to the west, Rango patrolling around the old crumbled road while the brahmin followed Rough and the talking Pox.

“Pox woke up in a ruined house. There were lots of dead ponies, so Pox didn’t want to stay. Pox found water but no food. Pox wanted food. So Pox went toward the sun, but the sun went faster away and night fell.” Pox let a big yawn cutting his story, letting a plain view of his sharp carnivorous teeth, then went back to it. Rough lost some seconds staring at the fox in front of him, marveling at its predator features and wondered how many secrets he might hold. Then he realized he had skip some words.

“...cause Pox don’t like to sleep. So Pox kept walking...”

“Wait what ?” The merchant interrupted. “Why don’t you like sleeping ?”

Pox seemed to ponder how to put the idea into words then talked low, a slight distress in its voice. “Pox don’t like sleeping, because when Pox sleep, he never wakes up at the same place. And Pox never see his friends again. And sometimes, Pox feel he did bad things while sleeping...”

The both of them continued to walk in silence a few moments, Rough unnable to figure out if the silence was tensed, or awkward, or something else. He was then surprised when Pox resumed in its cheery voice.

“So because Pox don’t like sleeping”… yawn… “Pox continued to walk aaaall night. Pox even had to sing not to sleep.” He then began to trot in a hopping motion, his head bobbing left and right.

“It’s the Pox night sooong.

You sing it not to sleep

It’s the Pox night sooong.

You sing it not to sleep

It’s the Pox night sooong.

You sing it not to sleep...”

Rough Barter had enough of the song almost instantly but at the same time, the little fox at his side seemed to have the time of his life. Eyes squinted and smile to the face, Pox was the embodiment of innocence.

“It’s the Pox night sooong.

You sing it not to sleep… Meh, Pox was getting bored of it when Pox sniffed a pony.” Pox continued, resuming his walk without skipping a beat. “So Pox looked for the pony, but Pox found a puppy instead. The puppy was scared of Pox, but Pox told him not to, so he stopped. Then Pox asked if the puppy saw a pony and puppy led Pox to the nice pony, and when Pox went to wake the nice pony, the nice pony was mean and hit Pox.” Finishing his story, Pox seemed lost in his thought, trying to figure out why a nice pony hit him, because nice pony didn’t hit other nice ponies as Pox. Then he yawned again.

“Well, that’s a nice little story you’ve got there.” Said Rough, glancing at Rango who was ears up on a pile of trash. “Are you really able to understand Rango ?”

“Who ?”

“Rango…. Err, the nice puppy ?” Rough clarified.

“Oh, no. He speak strange. But he’s nice and listen to Pox.”

“Oh, too bad. I always wished I could talk with him. It always made me sad that he would understand me far more than me him.”

“He cares about you, very much.” A voice said. A voice that Rough had a hard time identifying as Pox’s with a strange deep undertone. He stopped and watched the strange three tailed fox looking kindly at Rango. Pox then yawn and broke the spell of the scene. He turn toward Rough, walked to him and sat.

“Can Pox has another juice ? Sugar help Pox not to sleep.” he asked with pleading eyes.

“I can give you something to drink, but I’m pretty sure you need some rest. You should take a nap.”

“Aaaaaw, but Pox isn’t tired.” Whined the dark kitsune. “Pox don’t want to sleep, because…. Because Pox don’t want to put nice pony late.” he added half asking half affirming his made up reason. Then he yawn, and tried hiding it, and finally started to wash himself licking his paw and passing it over his eyes. “Can Pox has a juice ?” he asked again, realizing he was really thirsty.

“All right.” started Rough. “But with one condition.”

Pox nodded excitedly, eyes focused on his new favorite drink.

“If you can’t prevent yourself from yawning after that, you’re taking a nap !” he asserted.

Pox seemed torn for a moment, but the aspect of drinking another bottle won in the end.

“Alright, Pox will not yawn, can Pox has the bottle now ?” he said, eyes swinging in rhythm with the bottle and his tongue to the side drooling.

“Alright.” said Rough, tossing the bottle. A few moments later, Pox was on his back, bottleneck in mouth emitting some strangled yelping. Rough sighed, took the bottle and uncapped it. “You’re gonna need to learn that trick, you know ?”

Pox didn’t answer as he was half drowning while drinking the bottle.

“Pffua, Pox like the fuzzy juice.” He then began to yawn but thankfully for him burped because of the drink he just had.

“Pox is ready !” He said getting up, obviously too happy. “Let’s go, Pox is ready !” and in queue began to walk steadily toward the west. Rough sighed and walked up to his side.

They both continued to walk chatting but never fully understanding the other, Rough always using too complicated words or trying to explain some trading subtlety, while Pox talked about things that in his own words seemed convoluted but finally were just uninteresting trivia he saw on his way. More than once Pox went galloping behind a random bug or yawned almost to the point of dislocate his jaw, Rough ignored that, he had in fact decided he would let it be until they paused to eat at midday, not having the heart to force the strange fox to sleep when he had such an adorable look when trying to hide the fact he was yawning.

A few hours later they were both near a little campfire with their belly full. Pox laid down in a furry ball on the ground, head bobbing and trying it’s hardest not too fall asleep. Rough put a blanket over him and Pox jerked awake.

“No, Pox is not sleepy… Yawn… Pox want to go with Rough pony...” he whined with the strength of a butterfly. Passing his paws on his eyes to try to keep them open.

“Sorry Pox, but we had a deal. You’re yawning since this morning. You need to rest, it’s not healthy for you to push yourself too far.” Rough asserted.

“Awww, but Pox don’t wan to sleep. Pox want to stay longer with Rough pony. I don’t want to wake away.”

“It’s alright, Pox, I’m gonna stay with you. And I’ll wait here until you woke up. Is that ok with you” the merchant said nicely scratching behind Pox’s ear as he used to do when bedding his daughter.

“Alright.” relented Pox. “But I know you won’t be there. So, goodbye mister Rough pony.” he said half asleep.

“Goodbye, little guy”

Pox was almost instantly asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling. Rough watched him sleep, smiling when Pox rolled his head and began to snore slightly his tongue dangling over his chops.

“You know, little guy. You’re probably the strangest person I met in the Wasteland.” Rough said with a low voice. “I hope my daughter will be at home when we get to Crossroad. She will not stop hugging you, finding you the most cute thing ever.”

The dark fox on the ground opened his blue eye. The merchant recoiled as this eye looked feral compared to what Pox had shown up until now. Rango who was gnawing into a bone tensed up and growled as a strange aura wrapped the surrounding area. The fox stood up, an ethereal wind catching his dark cape, his eyes full of malice and ready to fight taking in the area. He then looked the pony in front of him in the eyes and asked in a menacing rough voice.

“Where are we ?”

“Hem, you’re okay Pox ?” asked Rough Barter, ready to flee for his life. “Remember, we’re heading toward Crossroad. I have to resupply there.” his voice was shaking a little.

“Cross road, huh. I wonder how I ended up so far west. I have to go north quickly.” The fox said, the tensed aura dissipating but him not relenting a bit. “Who are you ? And why did you call me Pox ?” he asked the shaking pony.

“Well, I’m Rough Barter, and I’m gonna take a guess saying that Pox is either your second personality, or either you are his second personality...” he finished his sentence with a sheepish smile.

The fox seemed to deflate at that. He watched his paws, then his fur stood on end while he closed his eyes. The tension seemed to drop even more and Rango went at his master’s side keeping a wary eye on the strange fox. A few seconds later, the fox opened his eyes and all hostility dropped.

“I can still feel that spiritual magic inside me. But I can’t find where it lingers.” He turned to the pony. “Sorry I scared you, I wasn’t sure you were hostile or not, but your aura is kind, you’re somepony good at heart.” he inclined his head slightly “The name is Salt. Now, I would like to now why you called me Pox, and what is that second personality thing you talked about ?”

Salt sat near the dying fire, pulled out his cigarette packet, and felt the world crumbling around him as he realized his last cigarette was now a crumbled mess compacted at the bottom of the packet.

“On an other note, do you have a cigarette ?” He asked matter of factly.

“Got any caps ?” the merchant asked back, a predatory smile on its lips as he settled down on the other side of the campfire.

The Raider conundrum

“How could she have done this !” roared Salt, stomping his paw to the ground. The effect was not as impressive as he expected, his pad being meant to move in silence, not stomp in fury. Salt then concentrated his magic around his foreleg and hit a nearby rock. The boulder exploded on impact, but this didn’t relented one bit his anger.

“How could such a friend could betray me that way ?” he continued in a whisper. Then in realization of what he was saying he smashed repeatedly his head on one of the debris. Punctuating each strike with his words.

“Get… smash… out… smash… of… smash… my… smash… head !… SMASH” He felt ditzy for a moment but also felt more clearly the layers of illusion magic twisting his brain. He manage to get a hold on most of it and dissipated it.

“Those feelings aren’t mine, so stop believing that brain.” he scolded himself. Feeling drained he lit a bent cigarette, took a long puff, and laid himself against the rest of the rock, his gaze lost on the seemingly infinite landscape of deserted land, ruined signs and crumbled building before him. His mind now at rest focused on what had happened.

This disgusting dark kitsune had been the most subtle that ever attacked him. She must have stalked him for days, as he recalled this uneasy feeling of being watched. He could even remember those strange layers of magic that seemed remnants of a fight, and hadn’t paid enough attention. Now he understood. Those magic filament were a trap, illusion that stacked up in his brain, slowly but effectively, so much that he couldn’t remember when his frien… this dark kitsune took place beside him, as a long date friend. He even had a hard time remembering how he figured it out. All he can remember, was to be fighting with this witch, he thought as a dear friend.

Salt’s thoughts came to a stop when he realized something. He had attacked the dark kitsune first when he realized what was happening, but her figures showed a real surprise. Something exterior must have made him aware of the trick, and he could remember feeling a spiritual energy at the time.

Salt reached deeper in his mind, and surely he felt it, that same spiritual energy he regularly felt for some times. Something was in him, a something that he couldn’t comprehend, but seemed to have saved his life. He tried to follow deeper the spiritual magic in his brain, and felt it regress to a small part that felt different, then a blue light seemed to blind his mind-eye.

Pox woke up in a jerk, hit the back of his head on a rock, instinctively he took a breath, hissing through clench teeth but got his lungs filled with an aggressive hot smoke and was struck by a coughing fit. He felt something fall from his mouth and suddenly he felt a burn on his tail. Too much was too much and Pox stood up in a jump and began to run in circle trying to catch his hurting tail. The little game lasted far too long as he failed to catch his tail, because it always seemed to be elsewhere. When he finally ended up on his back and hurting tail in mouth as he groomed it, he blank as he realized he had three of them.

Five minutes later, Pox was still crouched over himself, playing with his three tails moving them independently and trying to catch them with his paws. He was so entranced in his antics that he jumped in surprise when he heard a voice near him.

“What the fuck are you ?” The male voice asked, in a tone that didn’t called for an answer.

Pox turned and took a few step back. What he saw was an awesome pony. He was half mounted on a broken rock, the sun behind him outlined him in rays of light in the dust, his cape flapping in the wind. The pony advanced, pointing some kind of metal machine at Pox, taking off his googles with his magic.

“Pox is Pox !” He answered in his happiest smile.

The pony stopped and aimed his rifle to pox. “What ! That shit talk ?” he exclaimed.

“Yes, Pox talks. Who are you mister Awesome ?” Pox asked in the confusing way possible to the raider in front of him. The raider stumbled backward, re-strapped a leather piece that detached from his spiked armor and was flapping in the wind then shrugged.

“Ok Fox thing, it’s been a while since I wanted a pet, now your mine ! Come here, no tricks !” He said brusquely, menacing Pox with his rifle.

“A pet ? And it’s Pox, not Fox. What’s a pet ?” He answered, trotting closer. He sat in front of the awesome pony and slowly shook his three tails. Up close he could see the pony had a yellow coat with a dark mane, and was a magic pony, with a horn. And he wore an awesome armor full of spikes. And he was talking but he wasn’t listening.

“Pox didn’t listen, sorry. What ?”

“I said, a pet mean you’re gonna do as I say, ok ? Are you stupid ? For a long moment Pox reflected on that, his head slowly inclining to the right.

“Pox isn’t stupid, but Pox like to do stuff. Can Pox has a treat if Pox do the stuff ?” he pleaded, his stomach making its presence known.

“Yeah, sure, why not. Now follow me pet.”

“Pox.”

“What ?”

“It’s Pox, not pet.” Pox stated matter of factly.

“OK, listen, I’m gonna call you...” Pox went bouncing away and jumped on a rat that was passing by near the rock debris.

“Hey pet. Pet ! Listen to me !” The raider tried to get Pox attention. “Pox !” he finally shouted.

Pox turned his head toward the awesome pony which took a step back. Pox mouth was dripping blood, and because the pony didn’t continued his sentence, Pox began to wash himself, licking his paws to rub his muzzle. The raider was used to see gore, but the sharp teeth of this… animal, for lack of better term, was strangely freaky. He considered shooting the lupine creature right there, but it also seemed this Pox thing was willing to be his pet, so maybe he could keep it.

“Ok, er… Pox” the kitsune instantly looked up. “Follow me, I’m gonna bring you to the camp. Do as I say, and you’ll have a treat there.” He then turn and walked away, and smiled when the creature followed him and fell in step next to him. Strangely, looking at the fox, he couldn’t imagine hurting it. This creature had the biggest puppy eyes he’d ever seen, and seemed to look at him in awe.

“So Pox, what are you ?” he asked after a moment, deciding talking would be better, because the road was kinda long. He had been on survey all morning and had encountered absolutely nothing interesting before the strange creature at his side.

“Pox’s a pony.” Pox stated all happy.

“Hem… aren’t you a fox, or some shit like that ?” The raiders inquired, dubious.

“Nope. Pox is a pony. But ponies always say Pox is a fox, so Pox is a pony fox, so Pox is Pox.”

To the raider, that sounded strangely like a theater line.
“Did you rehearse that ?” he asked, more and more confused.

“No, but ponies always need Pox to explain so Pox explain a lot. What’s awesome pony name ? Ponies always prefer Pox to call them by names.”

“Well, for starter you can call me Master.”

The two of them continued their way toward a ruined city from which several structures made of scraped metal could be seen, making a makeshift barricade.

One hour later they arrived to the main entrance of the camp, a barbed metal door rolling to the side guarded by two junkies occupied to gamble dash inhalators over a card game. The area was filthy and Pox gagged, ears drooping.

“The Boss will smash you, if he finds out you’re playing on duty once again.” Pox’s master scolded.

“Yeah, it’s not as if somepony’s gonna attack us, asshole.” The first one answered eyes glued to his card as if it could help changing them into a better set.

“And you’re well placed to know it. Always on patrol, and never bringing anything interesting back… Holy shit !” the second exclaimed having inclined his head and noticed Pox inches of him scrutinizing his cards. The guard fell in the dirt, flailing but not managing to get up, then crawling toward his rifle laying against the wall.

“Hey ! I call a win on this one, you knocked the game over, you fucking cheater !” the second guard shouted, then turning toward Pox and his currently laughing master he added “And what’s that thing, Auto ?” his hoof pointing slightly left of Pox, probably due to his unfocused eyes.

“That’s my new pet. I found it on my way back. He’s called Pox. Pretty neat, uh ?” He smiled, as Pox was checking behind him, not sure of who that loud pony was pointing to. “Hey, say hello, Pox.” Auto added.

Pox raised his head to attention and hopped his way toward the new pony, sparing a look to the other one that was once again on his hooves fumbling with what his Master called a rifle. “Hi, Pox is Pox. Nice to meet you friend of Pox’s Master.” he said puppy eyeing as much as possible. “What was the game ? Pox like games !”

“This shit talks !”somepony screamed. Then a clicking sound was heard.

Three heads turned toward the pony Pox had scared who was pointing his rifle to Pox and pressing the trigger repetitively, his spooked and drugged brain not realizing he forgot to load the first bullet in the chamber.

“What are you doing, you dumb shit !” Auto exclaimed, seizing the rifle in his magic and taking it to pieces in a few actions. “Do… not… shoot… my… pet !" he shouted, punctuating each word by throwing a piece of the gun to the head of the junkie who ended up sprawled under the table.

“Holy shit, your dog talks.” the second junkie blanked.

Auto sighed deeply then magically grabbed Pox by the cloak, dragging him away from the playing cards he was inspecting. “Come here, we don’t time to spend we such, idiots !” he said spitting the last words toward the two most useless doorkeepers the camp ever have seen. He then grabbed the door and slide it to the side in an awful sound of rusted metal grinding, more effective than any alarm system. Walking toward his shack he continued to pull Pox, three of his legs leaving claw marks in the ground while he reached out with his last front leg toward the entrance.

“Pox wanted to plaaaay.” he whined.

They continued those shenanigans for ten paces, catching the attention of several other raiders in the camp, trying to understand what was going on and laughing at Auto.

“Enough !” Auto shouted at Pox. “I said, do as I say and you’ll get a treat. Now i’m seriously reconsidering that ! Now, follow me and behave, Pox.” He turn back and immediately stoped, his way blocked by a mischievous smile. His features drooped as he faced one of the pony he would never consider lightly or anger.

“Well Auto, what do you have here ?” The orange mare with a yellow fiery air asked in a sultry voice. Her smile grew when the stallion before her seemed to shrink. She swayed hips walking past him, rubbing her tail under his chin.

“Sooo, you belong to this guy now...” She looked Pox in the eye. Everypony in the vincity took a step back, except Pox that didn’t know what to do.

“Hem, Pox don’t now… Pox likes him, and he promised treats.” He said thoughtfully, thinking about what meant to belong to someone.

The earth pony mare turned back toward Auto. “You should really tighten the leash on you Pet. I wouldn’t accept such a disappointment.”

“Pox, not pet.” A low voice was heard. Then nothing was heard anymore. Even screeching bugs and the whistling wind seemed to have stoped.

“What does the fox say ?” The mare said in an icy voice that this time froze Pox in fear.

“Pox said his name is Pox, not pet.” he repeated, shameful for some reason. Everything happened so fast that Pox didn’t understand how he ended up on his back. Half a second later the mare was on him, pinning him to the ground, her hatred deformed face inches away screaming in his sensible ears.

“Listen here Pet ! Dog goes *woof*, cat goes *meow*, bird goes *tweet* and mouse goes *squeek*, But the fox shut the fuck up ! I think you misunderstood where you’re standing ! This is no game, you’re a pet now, so you do as told, no but, no bargain. Now you shut up unless told and you obey ! So what does the fox say ?”

Pox was scared beyond anything. It was the first time somepony was mean to him, and so he didn’t know how to react. Clenching his muzzle shut, he closed his eyes and waited. Soon the weigh of the meany pony left his body.

“Good boy.” he heard the mare say in an overly joyful voice. Opening an eye he could see her brushing her sides on Auto’s, his face showing a blatant lack of pleasure at the motion. The mare resumed then in her sultry voice, “You should come visit me with your pet soon, I’m sure we’ll be able to work something interesting, just the three of us.” She winked and left, swaying her hips. Auto seemed not to breath until she turn the corner behind a metal shack.

“Shit. Come on Pox. I need to find a way to stay away from her for a long time.” Pox listened to his master, still on his back rotating his head to follow his motion. When he was on his back with his head rotated 180 degree, his body finally followed the motion and stood up before catching his master in a quick trot.

“I should be able to convince the Boss to send me with the team delivering the slaves tomorrow. It’ll take a few days before we’re back, that should do the trick.” Auto continued.

They walked for only a few seconds more when Auto realized something was missing. Turning his head to the right, meeting Pox’s gaze, he found that it was the voice of Pox he was missing, having heard it almost none stop walking back to the camp.

“You can talk if you want, you know. Just, don’t do it when the She Deamon is here.”

“Pox don’t like meany pony. She is bad pony.” Pox responded in a low voice, tainted with sorrow. Auto almost missed a step while hearing that. “Pox prefer awesome pony, you is good pony.” he added with a smile.

That smile on Pox’s face turned Auto’s frown even more down.

“You know Pox, what you just said might questioned by sooo many out there.” As he spoke, they passed a row of cages in which a dozen of pony where waiting their fate in various states of resignation. Most of them with chains and explosives collars, and all of them living in muck. Pox watched then while they passed, his head cocking to one side and his tongue slipping out of his mouth as he tried to understand why ponies were in cages.

“There.” Said Auto when they entered a rusty metal shack. “Stay here while I’ll go see the boss. And don’t touch anything.” He slammed the door, flinching as he didn’t meant to, and went away.

Now alone, Pox looked around him, taking in the room. Everything was worn out, made of rusty steal, scratched leather and duct tape, but strangely enough it felt cozy. A destroyed couch had been turned into a comfy bed, an old desk had been turned into a working bench put in a corner with several rifles hooked to the wall over it, all of them different kind of automatic weapons, several shelves screwed and taped all around the room supported anassortment of stuff, and two rusty refrigerators were stacked with cans and bottles.

Pox’s eyes grew wide upon seeing the interior of the refrigerators, and the warning of his maser vanished in a little puff of smoke soon replaced by a bottle of Shimmering Sunset Sarsaparilla surrounded by a mystical light. A few moment later Pox was once again on the ground, shewing the cap of the bottle, but after ten minutes of a one sided fight, the cap gave out with a whistle and pox gave a yelp of victory. Dropping the empty bottle, after having spill a good part of it on the ground, Pox resumed his inspection and his gaze fell upon something he never expected to see.

Across the room was a strange opening in which an even more strange pony was watching him. The pony was dark, draped in a grey coat, three tails swinging around as is eyes stayed on him, unblinking. Those eyes were strange, one was yellow, while the other was blue. Pox surprised that he didn’t hear the pony arrive inclined his head and stuck a bit of his tongue, deep in thought, he was though surprised to see his new friend do the same.

“Emm, hi ? Pox is Pox, who is strange pony ?” he asked. And was once again surprised to see the other pony speak with him but emitting no sounds. He walked forward but stopped when the other did the same. “Hey, why are you doing what Pox is doing ?” he asked pointing a paw to the pony, who did the same in toe. Something clicked into Pox’s head and he slowly moved his paw to the right, watching the other do the same, then to the left. “Awesome !” Pox exclaimed as he rushed forward and put a paw on the mirror. The glass was cold and he could see the other him doing the same. He turned from one side to the other, watching himself in the mirror, amazed as how this magic glass showed himself from outside his body. He scrutinize his yellow and blues eyes then twirl, rolled on his back to watch himself upside down, what didn’t worked well, his reflection doing the same, but he ended up gaining back his happy mood he felt like loosing ever since encountering the bad pony earlier. After a last twirl he stood up in front of the glass and contemplated one last time his gray eyes.

Pox stumbled back as he watched his eyes, unblinking. They were gray, and even if they were different from earlier, they he felt like they belong. He concentrated on this feeling of belonging, and soon saw blueish lights stripping his now ill fitted dark coat and a center one on his chest that seemed to crawl out of his body. That light was warm, it was his light, and soon it was a blueish ball of warm light surrounded by cold flames floating in front of his eyes. Pox’s mind was blank. He never saw anything like it, but he was attracted to the light as if it was calling him, he reached out with his paw and everything went dark.

For a long moment, Pox was scared and kept his eyes shut. But after the eternity of fifteen seconds he got bored of it and opened them, to see nothing. Pox usually could see well in the dark, but this here wasn’t dark, it was black. So black he couldn’t even see his white paw in front of his eyes.

Pox yelp in surprise as he watched his paws. They were now white ans seemed to emit they own light. Turning about he began to run, try to find something else. The sensation of running yet getting nowhere was getting on his nerves, yet he wouldn’t stay in place, running he felt like he could escape what was going to happen, because he felt he was going to experience something. Suddenly, as he continued his seemingly immobile running, two voices could be heard, coming from everywhere and nowhere, echoing in the great nothingness. Pox tried not to hear them, but has he barely heard them he could fill the blanks as if he remembered them. Of the two voices, one was female and the other male, and they seemed to be arguing.

“You don’t understand, Bro !”

“But Sis, you don’t know if you can control them !”

“I have to do something ! Our village won’t last long !”

“I know that, but have faith ! The monks will be there soon, we know our messengers reached the city.”

“No they won’t ! We do not interest them, we have nothing !”

“But you might make things worst ! Or even lose control ! I don’t want to see monks getting here to fight YOU !”

“But I also might solve the problem !”

* * * *Bro ?* * * *

“I don’t want you to risk your life!”

“And I want to protect you !”

* * * *Bro. * * * *

“I'd rather be a slave to these monster over seeing you becoming slave to your own power, Sis. Don’t risk so much on so little odds.”

“But we’re already slaves at this point !”

* * * *Bro !* * * *

“This won’t end well, I just know it ! Please stoop this madness !

“It’s too late. Sorry, Bro.”

* * * *BROOOOO !!!* * * *

“Pox !” Auto screamed into Pox’s ear. Pox jumped bumped his head on the desk he fell asleep under, then crawled away from Auto who currently wore the angriest face he could manage.

“I can’t believe it, I told you not to touch anything and here we are, twenty minutes later Sunset Sarsaparilla spilled everywhere, and my mirror broken !” He kicked at the bottle. “You’re up for a beater my pet, because this crosses the line waaaay over.” he began to walk toward Pox when this one nailed him in place with one question.

“Are you a bad pony ?”

“What ?”

Pox’s eyes where full of tear as he repeated. “Are you a bad pony ? Pox thought you were awesome, and you promised Pox treats, and you wanted to protect Pox. But you are with bad ponies, and you want to make other ponies slaves, and Pox isn’t sure of what that means, but pox feel like it makes you very bad. Is Awesome pony good or bad ?”

Every drop of energy let Auto as he slumped to the ground. “This is complicated Pox. If you ask most creatures, they’ll say I’m bad. But I simply did what I had to to survive.” He pointed a hoof toward the cages outside. “Most of those ponies in cages. They are what you would call good ponies, but if you free them and give them a gun, they’ll kill me the instant they can. Won’t that make them bad too ? It’s not a matter of good or bad, it’s a matter of survival.” He got up and went to lay on his bed. “You know, I spent years entertaining the idea of getting away, start being something else. But the past always catch you. Right now, my only friends are living here, and if I ever leave, they’ll be my worst enemies. I’ve chosen a path, and I can’t get away from it, now.”

Pox walked toward him and sat near the bed. “Pox don’t think bad ponies say such things”

“Yeah, but it’s too late for me.”

“Pox know someone that gonna help.”

“What ?” Auto exclaimed, straightening up in his bed.

“Pox is going to sleep. Awesome pony master will think. And if Awesome pony decided he want to be a good pony, awesome pony will wake Pox. Pox doesn’t know how Pox will be when waking, but if Awesome pony is good, then good things will happen.” Pox walked toward the desk and curl into a ball under it. “Goodbye, master, Pox was happy to meet you.”

“Gooood mooorning Wasteland ! This here is DJ-Pony with the news, and we have quite a tale this morning. You might have heard of the strange spirit fox from the north ? Several ponies declare to have seen or met a strange nice fox that turned out to be a tough bad magical spirit. Some even declared he destroyed a saloon after having fooled the whole town into believing he was nice. But today we learned something a bit more precise. Remember the big camp of a raider gang in the ruins of Rockshoe, in the north ? Well, the camp is no more. The Spirit Fox went in, found the only pony in the camp that could be turn back from monster to hero, and together using their amazing skills in magic and gunblazing they freed all the slaves, killed the boss and his sargents and dispersed the remnant of the former biggest raider group in the area. Unfortunately they few ex slaves that told my dear informer the whole story never got the name of our fox friend. They only talked about him being salty or something, others saying he was called Box. Either way, thank for showing us Ponies aren’t the only ones to fight the good fight Spirit Fox, and also to help reminding us that ponies can change even when they seemed lost for good.