Fifty, fifty shots of Ponyville's finest,

and fill my heart full of booze!

Back to the keg and onto the barrel,

for another day of drinking goes on!

"Calculations?" I said aloud, eyeing Full Metal. The stallion was having a hard time looking at the map he managed to replicate from Captain Calm Storm. He flipped the map left, right, upside down, back around, and then some. He seemed very distraught, his eyes scanning the map with clear uncertainty.

"Fifty-fifty?" He questioned more-so himself. I cocked an eyebrow, nervousness beginning to settle into my steadily beating heart. Top Gun grumbled as he wiped some sweat off of his chin, which was dripping off it like his head had been sitting under a shower head. It wasn't a great position to find ourselves in, if I'll be honest. My team had made steady progress and we were just outside of the road, waiting patiently for the enemy patrol to walk right through.

Only problem is, they hadn't come yet. It's been at least an hour of waiting.

If I had known this patrol had steered off course, we would've been advancing to link up with Team B by now! My brow furrowed as I stared out into the small, narrow clearing. It was so dang hot that the ground was actually doing that weird heat wave illusion thing. You know, where the ground is moving like it's water? It's kinda cool-

"Sergeant," Serrated broke my deep thought. I snorted, two beads of sweat flicking off my snout. I turned over to Serrated Axe, humming for him to continue. He adjusted his helmet briefly, his faceplate staring at me as he spoke, "The scouts. A-11 and A-6. They just came back, the patrol re-routed towards the village. They said the walk for them was an hour. They're about.. two and a half hours ahead of us towards the village sir."

I blinked, panic beginning to settle in. "A-And how long 'till we get to the village if we walk at the same pace?"

"Six hours, sir."

I stood up, glancing at Full Metal, whom was still trying to read the map. His pupils, that I could see from my angle, were dilating small and large. I glanced over at Top Gun, giving a quick grunt at him to alert his attention. He begrudgingly glared over at me. "Get Full on your back, he's got hysteria from this Celestia-cursed heat."

Top Gun's eyes flashed something resembling concern. He pushed himself up, rousing some jungle critters and bugs to jump up and disappear as they landed, and began stallionhandling Full's unaware self onto his back. He grit his teeth as the stallion's weight would no less bare on his own, alongside further body heat. He took the map as he did so, rolling it and quickly throwing it over to me, which I caught. The tall grass and hidden branches in the tall grass crunched and snapped as we all adjusted ourselves and made preparations to move.

"Damn high command," Flame Crusher grumbled. "Why don't they just force us to fight an entire battalion of hippogriffs for hours, while they're at it?"

"Can it!" Hushed Spearhead, adjusting the saddlebags on his haunches. "You'll give us that stupid damn luck of yours with your yappin'!"

Flame made some sort of gesture while I wasn't looking, because the conversation immediately died down as I surveyed our surroundings. We were in a small shaded area, but it wasn't discriminated from the torching humidity that had claimed Full Metal's consciousness for at least a day. I was down to four stallions, including myself as somepony had to take care of Full Metal, and that would be Top Gun. Why didn't the Captain give us Cross Heart?

Spearhead decided it was the perfect time to read my mind. "If you were wonderin' why the Specialist ain't with us, it's because the locals probably would be interested in usin' him as an impromptu medical expert on their sick and dyin'. Captain probably has faith in you to lead us without a casualty. I guess he forgot what heat is, that senile bastard."

I cracked a smile, shaking my head softly as Spearhead's ranting was tuned out by me. Going out into the road was a death sentence for us, most certainly for Full. I think we reached half of our water capacity about an hour ago. Maybe..

I caught a sight of the thick, healthy leaves that were at least two ponies' size swaying just above us. My brain racked its thoughts and I came up with a perfect solution. I craned my head to my team, clearing my throat to get their attention. "Flame, you got any cutting spells?" I asked, getting annoyed with a thick bead of sweat tickling my nostrils. I flicked it away as Flame responded with happiness. "Cuttin'? Where?" I pointed up towards the thick leaves and whatnot hanging above us, and gave my command. "Cut the base, give us somethin' to hold on, but keep the entire leaf itself intact. Do one for each of us."

Flame giggled as his horn ignited a vicious orange. I beckoned everyone to clear the areas of potential headaches as Flame Crusher went to cutting the giant leaves. With thin orange hues, resembling that of a chef's knife, cutting through the bases, one by one the giant leaves fell onto the floor. Literal hordes of critters and microscopic-sized bugs flew in a rainbow arch away from the source of their interruptions. The grass beneath it crunched and snapped instantaneously with the impact, some dead grass hidden in the ground flapping up in a haze of brown before falling back down.

"Alrighty, one for each pony," I called out. My team were quick on the draw, each taking a giant leaf for themselves to use. Some were even intuitive, like Spearhead and Serrated Axe, to flap air at each other for some quick comfort before we saddled out. Top Gun was taken out of any sort of combat equation, as he was holding his own with his teeth, his faceplate up, over himself and Full. At least the humidity isn't a real killer, and only a hysteria-maker.

Swinging my hoof in a gesture to get into formation and advance, we were off on the road, in the burning heat, towards the village.

It's been at least an hour, now. And oh boy, we were not having fun.

"If those Celestia-damn zebras don't got no fuckin' cold water or a bath for us when we get there..." Serrated Axe gruffly complained, his leaf hanging over his body thanks to a strong hoof of his.

"Keep bitchin' like that an' they'll just give you cottonballs to dab youse down," Top Gun countered.

"I think I figured it out!" Spearhead announced, gaining our attention as we trotted forward on the road. "Speak it, Private," I urged. There was no stopping that 'aha!' tone in his voice, "You sound like my younger brother's old friend! She's from Manehattan, I reckon. Part of them Apples."

Top Gun rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Manehattanites all sound da same, dickwad."

"No, no! There's a whole different culture in that city o' yours, Toppy! The northern ones are a bit more.. neutral widdit, know what I mean? Southerners have a heavy don't-care-fuck-you accent an' swagger about themselves. You sure you an' Babs Seed never knew each other?"

"Woah, woah, we're talkin' Babs Seed? The boxer?" Serrated Axe chimed in, now curious of where this was heading.

"Yeah! Ain't she 11-0 right now?" Spearhead said, humming in thought.

"Yeah, I was at her last fight before we got re-deployed here, dude. Boutta few months ago when we were on passes for the incident. Knocked that poor bastard's teeth out. Heard he got them fake dentures now." Serrated Axe said.

"Th'fuck are you two idiots babblin' on about, now?" Top Gun groaned.

"Shut it, Toppy, we're talkin' big colt sports, here." Spearhead sharply replied, going back into his conversation with Serrated Axe. Top Gun included himself in with insults and typical Manehattanite blabber. Meanwhile, I was staring down the road. I had grown numb to the annoyingly ticklish sweat pouring down my brow to drain itself off at my jaw, or snout, or even chin. Celestia-damn it! Wait, my eyebrows rose in surprise, did I just curse? Celestia, did I just curse?

Why did it feel so.. right?

I flicked my head to figuratively clear my thoughts. This place was messing with me.

Author's Note

5k words expected to be in the next chapter.. and not after a month's hiatus. Excuse that!