The Wild

by citrusorange

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Original Character, Royal Guard, Profanity, Adventure, Violence, Death, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6116

Her Majesty's Royal Expeditionary Force (REF) is a well known branch off of the Equestrian Army. Ponies with the special talent of knowing weapons or hurting ponies are usually shipped into the branch if they enlist. Can Broken Arrow survive?

The 98th REF, known as the Trailblazers. Known for typically being the spearhead of the REF (and the most daring). Broken Arrow, a greenhorn 19-year-old recruit from Manehattan had surprised many by shooting high in his intelligence tests, and performed above average in boot camp. Thanks to this, Her Majesty has assigned him to a division he dreamed of joining as a colt.

However, everything isn't cookies 'n cream for this greenhorn. With violent ponies all around him, some who unreasonably dislike him and the Wild trying to steal his life at every curve, can he survive?

Published 2018-10-05 12:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-11-29 19:12:19 UTC

1: Fresh Meat, Fresh Orders

Heave away,
Heave away,
Heave away, O' heave away!

Can you see it?
Can you feel it?
The Force is marching on!

Hurrah, hurray, the expedition is underway!
Left, right, left, right
until Celestia's dawn shines today!

The Wild

"Alright.. alright, here's the kicker! So, I- I told th'bastard; Keep your cocksuckin' lips offa my helmet!" A stallion's voice bellowed with laughter. A chorus of raunchous laughter followed right after the punchline.

I was not uncomfortable, but I wasn't comfortable, neither. Sitting here, in this small cruise-class airship. I couldn't help but feel off. Off in the sense of, well, they assigned me here as an NCO, essentially second-in-command to this squad of grizzled ponies who clearly saw more action than I could eat fish. As a pegasus, it's healthy to eat a lot of fish. Don't judge me.

My armor was standard-issue. General-issue. GI. Apparently to non-Equestrians we're called GIs, or Equestrian GIs. I'm getting off topic. Anyways, it's pretty much a light-weighted metal alloy which name I have no dang clue of. Over it is a pretty fancy tunic top with a gold trim and a red fill, with Celestia's sun emblazoned proudly on my chest. The fancy tunic stretched all the way to my withers, where a light-weighted chainmail followed underneath it with numerous leather straps around my belly keeping it in place. I had typical greaves on my legs and some pretty tough hoofguards. On my head? A pretty cool looking helmet that had style points and more efficiency than a Royal Guard's! Even more than a Solar Guard's! It was basically a Royal Guard's helmet except it covers down to my neck in slim plates that are tough as nails, and a faceplate that I can flip up at anytime, plus a coif underneath my helmet that I wear at all times, even when unarmored. It was colored red with a fancy golden plume at the top - needless to say, I was set!

With a pegasus REF member comes their weapons. Wing blades, sharpened to a razor's point. Pretty sweet! I was taught in basic to use my wings as bendable swords, and plus, these wing blades barely put any weight on my wings to begin with. They're all gray yet they're polished (as they should be, any veteran or greenhorn should keep it polished and at top condition at all times, it's the most valued weapon in a REF pegasi's arsenal!) and completely lethal. Kinda scary if you think about it. My secondary weapon is my aerial spear. Basically a pure metal alloy spear with a mouth handle peaking off of the side, as if I was holding a baton or jousting. Mouth guard so it doesn't mess up the pearly whites, too!

Now that I really thought about it, even with all of this cool stuff on me, I still looked fresh! These guys.. these guys next to me, they're heckin' broken in! Their armor is all worn, weapons are clearly used and their bodies are definitely more toned than mine.

Heck, my armor wasn't dented! Polished, not really, it was a dull red at this point - but it wasn't marked at all! Stand me next to the stallions at the table, and I would look out of place, polish or not! Of course they gave me the stink eye when I was announced their superior (even the Sergeant seemed miffed, and he was MY superior!) and haven't thrown me a bone since! My eyebrows furrowed at this revelation, eyes tracing around the modest cabin. Bunkers were tossed in the left corner. Luxuries such as refrigerators, counters and cooking stuff on the right with latrines in the back. Smack in the middle? A large circle table where half of my squad were at, telling jokes and drinking some modified water. I was told by Private First Class Top Gun, a pink earthpony stallion who was barking out jokes like he does insults, that it supposedly "keeps you calm".

Whatever that mumbo-jumbo is.

I was seated on my bunk, bottom one because I had to "earn my top bunk". Again, whatever that mumbo-jumbo is. Private Full Metal, a charcoal gray unicorn with glasses had the bunk above me. He was currently seated at the circle-table-thing with his arms folded and a jaded smile on his face. Guess he's used to Top Gun's jokes.

"Hey, rookie!" Private First Class Top Gun yelled, prompting the other three stallions at the table to look at me. Private Gun Ho, a yellow earthpony stallion with a chipped tooth and Private Serrated Axe, a black earthpony with a burn mark on his cheek. All cutie marks were covered, including mine, which was an arrow breaking against a stone wall, if you didn't know.

I looked over, my ear flicking involuntarily. "Yeah?" I called out, having been stuck in my own monologue for the past ten minutes.

"Y'know, I figured somethin'," Top Gun drawled. "Since we're on our first op wit' ya, how 'bout you come on over 'n tell us 'bout y'self?" Private Gun Ho side-eyed Top Gun as he said this. Immediately I was skeptic, but played it off smoothly. "Y-Yeah, I mean- I guess." As smooth as an operator. I got up from my bunk and trotted over, taking a seat at the table as their eyes all settled on me like vultures and I was the dying prey.

Silenced enraptured the table as soon as my hindquarters hit the chair. The sound that was being created, was the turning of Full Metal's book, and the jostling of armor and clearing throats. A cold sweat worked its way through my fur, although not bad enough to visibly travel down my coat.

"So," Private Top Gun said. "Your name is Broken Arrow."

I swallowed and nodded. "Yeah. South Manehattan."

"South Manehattan? No kiddin'." Private Serrated Axe chimed in, eyes slightly wider than usual. A talker, and judging by his accent, he's also a Manehattanite. "My brodda works a retail down there. Antiques 'n shit."

My ears cringed at the cursing, but I nonetheless responded. "Smooth Grinder?" Private Serrated Axe seemed to get even more interested, nodding vigorously. His voice was enthusiastic, as if his wait for a fellow citypony was ended. "Yeah, that's him! You gotta know'im, then."

I relaxed, smiling as I talked. "About yay-high, wears a tacky vest. Talks about how great-"

"-Piña coladas are." We finished in unison, laughing out loud. The laughs were jolly and innocent, compared to Top Gun's harsh and dark laughter that created an aura of violent ease, an ease Serrated was used to. However, the longing of an innocent or casual conversation was clear with his laugh, of how.. well, heck, of how caged it was! Private Serrated Axe, after a fit of laughing, calmed down. It took me a few extra seconds, but I eventually followed suit and he gave a small chuckle before speaking again. "I like ya already, rook. Anypony who knows Smooth Grinder in good will is a good pony in my books."

I gave a nod, beaming a toothy smile. Good things must come to an end, because I guess Private First Class Top Gun got jealous. He immediately broke our little world down with his throaty voice. "If you two can stop jackin' each other off for a few seconds, maybe I'll be able to speak my words t'our rookie." Serrated went silent, only having a small smile as he leaned back into his chair.

With that little sidebar aside, Private First Class Top Gun did the opposite of Serrated and leaned forward, elbows on the table. His auburn eyes focused on me. He rumbled, my reality completely focusing on him, as if his presence demanded it. "Listen, this is your first operation. I know how you'se feelin', you got your little adorable diploma of passin' boot camp and your ego-boostin' letter of being assigned to the 98th. I know you was feelin' y'self so you went out and got shit-faced and fucked the nearest whorse. I get it, we were colts once. However, this is the big colt leagues, rook. Don't go fuckin' around an' gettin' us killed, capisce?" His face was getting more grim and grim as he droned on.

I could only nod when he finished, my eyes neutral but clearly showing nervousness because he lifted an eyebrow and continued. "Don't be scared, rook. We'll keep ya good," he said. "Even though you'se our superior," he grumbled the last part to himself. I still heard it, don't worry.

"That is great information, Private Top Gun, I'll be sure to keep it in memory." I said, flicking my wings out to give them a quick stretch. It felt nice to keep the blood flowing in the wings, because it surely helped me keep my cool in this suddenly tense room. Private First Class Top Gun eyed me briefly before lifting up a daffodil sandwich I hadn't seen before. He dug his mouth into it after opening wide, chomping and chewing before I shifted sight to Full Metal. The unicorn was reading a book on the anatomy of a five-headed hydra, probably tuned out the entire situation years ago.

A question picked at my brain, and my mind began to dwell on it. I cleared my throat, getting the attention of everypony but Full Metal. "Wh-what happened to the pony before me?"

Private Gun Ho, who was clearly a stallion-of-few-words type, spoke. "He got unlucky." It was underwhelming for a stallion of his rugged stature. It was a nasally voice, and it just seemed to sound so tired despite him looking as if he never misses a wink-a-sleep.

My ears fell flat against my head, or as far as they could, with the helmet blocking their path and all. "Unlucky? Li- like a hydra type of luck? Wild dragon?"

Private Full Metal turned the page in his book, sniffing. He lowered his book just to below his eyes so he could look at me. Private Full's voice dripped with venom. "Hippogriff. Half-pony, half-griffin. The prowess and athletics of a griffin and the intellect of a pony. They hate the Griffin Kingdom and they hate Equestrians. They took to the Wild centuries ago. Tough sonsa bitches, is all I can say." He harrumphed and turned his attention to his book. My eyes shifted to the others, who all looked hurt, and justifiably so. Those jerks killed their friend and here I am, replacing him and acting like nothing is wrong!

"If ya don't mind me askin'.. who.. who was the stallion before me?" I asked, my voice going dry.

"Lance Spear." Serrated Axe's small smile vanished, replaced by a steel-eyed gaze. "He knew how to perfectly dive in and dive out. Great leader." Axe shook his head softly, before his eyes settled on me. "Don't be bothered if the guys here treat ya like shit. We're all still bleedin' from the loss."

I nodded, adjusting my helmet nervously as I melted my gaze away from Axe and onto Private Top Gun. "Private Top," I said, getting his attention. "I'm sorry for your loss, but ya fellas gotta look ta the future an' realize he's gone, an' I'm here. I-" I coughed, rubbing my dried throat before swallowing once or twice to get some words circulating again. "I can't work with stallions who can't keep their head in the game clearly. Am I understood?"

Private Top Gun's lip curled back briefly, his eyes flashing a hint of violence and I wondered if I may have overstepped the boundary too early. "Yes.. sir," he growled out, standing up in a flash and stomping away angrily, leaving the room. Silence reigned supreme for a few minutes before Private Gun Ho whistled low, gaining my attention. "Welcome to insubordination, rook. Ah hope yew got a few inspirin' speeches in yew. Cuz Toppy ain't gon' listen with full ears 'till yew make it count."

Private Full Metal placed the book on the table, closing it before glancing at Gun Ho. An eyebrow quirked before he glanced at me. "Put your money where your mouth is, sir. You just told Toppy to pony up 'n get over it. I hope you lead us to victory 'n all sir, but, good luck. Seriously, good luck with that stubborn sunnovabitch." Placing a hoof on the table, he pushed his chair out and got up to leave. "Oh, and, welcome to Alphabet." He walked out of the room.

Axe must've sensed my confusion, because he brought up the rear in that vague statement. "We're known as Alphabet, at least the squad is. We're the A and the Z."

A and the Z?

Oh heck.

Author's Note

i do not have an editor or any of the sort, so i apologize for any sort of inconsistent pace, spelling errors i did not see or grammatical errors. i hope you like this premise, as i will be expanding on it.

2: Mission Briefing

'Tis be our way,
our way of livin',

O' Celestia may the Trailblazers blaze!

The Wild was everything I expected, and then some. It's like expecting the cake to taste great, but then someone adds extra sugar and it's just heaven. Not that I am uh, trying to.. make this sound nice or lovely. It would be nice if it wasn't.. so rich in history. Top Gun must've sensed my unease, because his hoof clapped on my shoulder, sending a metallic ring through the small clearing the entire squad was positioned in. "Looks nice, don't it? Learn ta hate it, rook."

"Already do," A voice of rocks growled out. It was Corporal Rook, a cobblestone gray stallion on our left who grumbled. He was dressed differently from us: his cutiemark was exposed, being a cobblestone wall, he had way less armor, being leg-less, flank-less and hoof-less in armor. His shoulders were covered with thick pauldrons that were as thick as his head, and as tall as the top of his skull. A giant war-axe rested on his back in a crude scabbard, with minimal plates and padding on his torso and chest. His helmet was the same as ours, however, parts of the plume were pulled out and the rest was tussled with to give it a firey look, and his faceplate was.. faceless. There was nothing to it, just metal covering his face, whereas the rest of us had some sort of animal resemblance or that of an angry pony.

I shivered the first time I saw him. His black eyes showed nothing but calculated anger. He was born and bred to live and fight here.

Top Gun flicked his faceplate over his face, his resembling a snake with it's jaws unhinged. "Not referrin' to you, Rook. Talkin' about the Rookie, here."

Rook's shoulders, or pauldrons, shook briefly in anger. "It's never me."

"Shut your trap 'n learn the newbie how we do things." Top Gun snarled, planting the butt of his spear onto the ground.

Rook's eyes slid their way to mine, and my body gave itself a reason to sweat. There was a locked animal in there, and it wasn't something happy. His voice pounded and rumbled as he spoke with bitterness. "I just hope you can replace Lance. If not, I guess I can add another pony to my collection." He seemed to growl the last word out, because it surely made me shake in my hoofguards. I'm.. I'm supposed to compete with him?! This is insane! My voice made me seem so much more unimpressed, compared to my slightly quivering hooves. "I don't disappoint, Corporal Rook."

Rook tilted his head, eyes creasing from the slits of his helmet. Smiling, with a predator's gaze. "That's what Lance said."

"Corporal Rook, please shut your piehole and look forward."

Rook's creased eyes disappeared quicker than it came, now rolling as he shifted his gaze forward. "Yes, sir."

Captain Calm Storm, our squad leader, has arrived. He was dressed the same as us, save for that shiny golden plume he had, and the growling lion for a faceplate covering his face. From what I could see, he was a light blue pegasus stallion with majestic wings. Like, if he had a wingboner dude, it would probably smack everyone right now if he spun in a circle. Nonetheless, he trudged forward with a lance on his back, and his wingblades giving a distorted sheen with the jungle fever above us swaying to and fro, creating rampant sunspots any and everywhere. Therapeutic if you think about it, but that's besides the point.

"Cross?" Captain Calm Storm's middleaged voice croaked, his rump hitting the floor as he pulled out a map of the region we were deployed in. My ear flicked as a white pegasus fluttered down nearby, his armor covered by a small cape that stretched from his shoulders to his flanks in a red cross, symbolizing the universal health sign. Slung around each shoulder was two medical emergency first aid kits and additional supplies such as water rations, heat packs and more.

His faceplate was unique, and seemed to stretch more than our owns. It was like a dove's, except with a slightly longer beak that curved downwards slightly, the pointed tip sharp as a razor, clear by the sun's glare it reflected off at us, blinding us briefly before he lowered his head slightly to prevent that. "There are no civilians in the area, however, I spotted a patrol of those ziggers about north-west of us. They have bows and I don't think I saw blades, sir." Specialist Cross Heart trudged over to Captain Calm Storm, his voice smooth and organized, despite his experience and profession.

Calm Storm's head rotated briefly to steal a glance at Cross's arrival before he refocused back onto the map. Cross Heart settled down next to him as he flapped his wings to get rid of any excess sweat and leaves that he may have swiped on his descent. His hoof found itself on the map, tapping a small area between two smaller jungles. "Right there, they don't know a thing about hidden movements, sir."

Calm Storm nodded. "It's right on the route to that zigger village we have to play nice with. Get the squad situated and tell'em to get off their asses. We got a village to get to."

Cross nodded, "Sir," and flapped away.

Calm Storm's eyes stared hard at the map before he rolled it up and stashed it into a chest pocket underneath his armor. He gave a small grunt as he stood himself up and turned around to face us. Serrated Axe, Gun Ho, and Full Metal were just appearing from behind us as they brought up the rear. Full planted his spear down and gave some of his weight on it, his head resting on the base of the spear as he knelt down as the center of the trio. Serrated trotted right by him to stand in the tall, unruly grass so he could actually be seen, compared to Full's obscured body, save for the red cloth wrapped around the dome of his helmet. Gun Ho just simply sat down on his rump, any and all weapons secured tightly on his back as he had the same obscurity as Full.

"It's clear," Full announced. Sweat trickled down his cheek as the humidity and heat beat down on us, my fur feeling matted with sweat already. I didn't like this at all.

Rook positioned himself underneath a fairly large tree, its thick trunk protecting about 50% of his left side as he leaned up against it, crossing his forearms over intimidatingly. Watching us, analyzing us. Calm Storm walked over, the tall grass and hidden twigs underneath him snapping and crunching with each step, the lance on his back jostling with an imbalance. I noted that the Captain had a bit of a hobbled step.

"Welcome to the Wild, Broken Arrow." Captain Calm Storm greeted, nodding his head curtly at me before surveying the rest of the small team. "Hold a few moments here. Cross Heart's gone to go get the other half."

"This damn heat," Serrated Axe grumbled. "It was never this hot before."

"Weather reports indicated a heat wave," I said. "If my senses can tell me right, we're in for a bad day."

My statement deflated Serrated, his body slumping briefly as he looked to the sky in annoyance, no doubt suppressing a groan. Full flipped his faceplate over, being an owl. "I don't like it neither, Serrated, but your bitchin' gets us nowhere," Full said. "I neva bitched 'till just like.. ten seconds ago! And that was it fa th'entire time!" Serrated defended. Gun Ho snorted from behind his eagle faceplate. "Yew think that."

"Tha fuck I do!"

"Come on guys, let's simmer down," I reasoned. Serrated eyed me for a second before grumbling, walking over to more shade while Full sat out in a sunspot, reading something of some sort. Gun Ho remained in his position, eyes set on watching all 360 degree angles around us. No stone was left unchecked in his eye, to me, at least.

Calm Storm pushed some giant leaves down, the crunching and pulling of healthy shrubbery catching my ears. I looked over, spotting him glancing out. His face was covered by his faceplate, his eyes practically unseen from my angle. His ears were rigid, moving about in a robotic pattern. Silence reigned, save for the chirping and rustling of the Wild. I stared over at the Captain, then looking where Rook was. He was staring right at me, using a small crude knife he probably made by himself to sharpen it on a hoofguard that came out of nowhere. I had no idea he had one. That thought alone made me shiver.

"You know, there's a reason by Changelings never attack where the REF are," Full Metal said. I turned my head to his, lifting an eyebrow.

"The Canterlot invasion. Prince Shining Armor's shield didn't hold for that long. It wasn't powered, or oversurged purely by the magic of the Love Princess," Full began, his eyes staring at me to tell me a truth he felt should be told in the middle of this hecking heat. "The REF's 3rd and 5th divisions were being treated after three months of besieging a Hippogriff Kingdom's super-fortress in the Wild, about seventy klicks west of us. They were dispatched to the streets almost immediately. Without their real armor, weapons, using the Royal Guard's supply, they fended off the Changeling's bulk of advance by themselves, with minimal casualties for about six and a half hours.

"The unicorns of the 3rd and 5th were held back to support Prince Shining Armor in the shield's upkeep. A single stallion cannot hold a shield that large and that strong for so long, it's lethal amounts of magic to be used all at once for a single stallion. 5th division came with the idea that oversurging it with magic would explode it outwards, with a 23% chance of inwards being a risk. They took the risk, and the 'lings were completely destroyed, with the 3rd and 5th taking about a 0.6% collective total casualty percentage, while the 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 15th Solar Guard took a 60% casualty percentage, and the twenty divisions of Royal Guards at the outer wall taking a casualty rate of 72%."

I blinked, processing that information. Full Metal followed this history lesson up with something fierce. "Twelve years ago, we held the 'lings at Canterlot pretty much single-hoofedly. Twelve years since, they haven't tried anything. The REF is the real reason why Equestria still stands, part with reason of the Elements of Harmony, but that's another circumstance and story to tell."

Serrated Axe chimed in. "Captain Calm Storm was a private in the 3rd durin' alladat. Fought with the Magic Princess' husband, Flash Sentry. I thinks he was part ov the 15th Royal Guards. They took a helluva beatin'."

My ears straightened as my eyes widened. Now that was interesting. I glanced over at Captain Calm Storm, whom was now unsettling himself from his position on the shrubbery. He trotted over to us, adjusting his armor. "Saddle up, mares. The other half's here."

As Calm Storm finished his sentence, Cross Heart came fluttering in with a small breeze, relieving me and Serrated who walked over to me briefly. Flicking sweat off of his white wings, Cross landed gently, now ruffling his feathers to clear the beads of sweat flinging to and fro. He trotted over towards Calm Storm, the two going into a conversation I couldn't hear as the sounds of rustling and jostling of armor filled the clearing. From the bush Calm Storm was surveying through came three stallions.

None of their armor was altered, save for the battered helmets and dents in the shoulders, but nonetheless unaltered. The blood red stallion leading the trio was Private First Class Rapid Fire, with orange eyes, a horn and a cocky grin on his muzzle. Behind him on the left was a yellow unicorn stallion with red eyes named Private Flame Crusher, with an impressive black beard flowing from cheek to cheek and down to his Atom's Apple. On the right was a grass-green stallion earth-pony with black eyes, and a neutral expression on his face named Private Spearhead.

"The party's here, and none of us ain't queer," Rapid Fire announced. As he trudged in like he owned the place, he hoof bumped Serrated Axe who had once again changed positions to be on my right flank. Flame Crusher rolled his eyes as he trotted right behind and Spearhead seemed indifferent to this exchange, strolling right on by as if he hadn't seen us.

Captain Calm Storm's voice caught our attention as he motioned Full Metal over, who stashed away whatever he was reading and trotted on over. Straightening the marked map out in front of Full Metal, his horn shining, he projected a larger scale map for all of us to see clearly. Two smaller jungle patches were encircled with flint residue and written on. Crude routes were drawn in between the jungle patches, and a small crude housing area they drew on the bottom corner being circled twice with three arrows pointing at it.

"Our objective is to control that zigger village on the bottom right corner, as you can see. It is about a solid day's trek from here, and our secondary objective is to eliminate the zigger patrol that is guarding the road to the village. In order to test our rookie Sergeant here, he will be taking a fireteam towards that zigger patrol to eliminate them. The other fireteam will move around this and take route to the zigger village." Calm Storm explained, walking to the front of the projection. He pointed a hoof up at the two jungle patches. "Cross Heart's reconnaissance indicates that there is no zigger presence in these patches, but precautions are needed. Fireteam B being my detachment will filter through and clear out any zigger presence in these patches, while Sergeant Broken Arrow's Fireteam A will deal with the direct zigger contact on the road. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir," we all chorused with inside voices.

"Fantastic, let's begin assembling."

Anxiety filled me as my first task ever as an Expeditionary Force member was given. I was to lead battle-hardened stallions to win against.. ziggers? Whatever those are. My nerves' nerves were shaking and my heart was racing as I surveyed over the stallions that were potentials for my new "fireteam". I steadied my breathing and shook the jitters out of my hooves before clearing my throat to begin procedure.

Here we go.

Author's Note

hopefully i didn't mess something up in my personal checklist of editing and revising this chapter...

3: Behind Schedule

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!