The Black Hoof Saloon, famous for being one of the first attempts at rebuilding civilization in the northwest. All the merchant caravans pass by and by extension, all mercenaries. The rules are simple, be respectful and take personal problems outside. This time of year the place is crowded, as the traders stock up and make plans for what routes are worth risking it. The snow makes it harder to travel and the raiders always get more desperate. But there is also a more emotional tradition as ponies remember those lost over the years, and the superstitious nervously await the arrival of a certain somepony that started said tradition many years ago.

***

As the two doors of the saloon opened with a creak and the sharp chill of the winter night shook everyone awake. There were newcomers from down south that turned to shout "Close the doors will ya!" but the words fell silently as they gaped, as they always do. Always staring at the freak. I bowed quitely as I entered through doorway not quite built tall enough, as in trance I walked through the familiar hall. Every step where they had fallen the last year, and the years before. The noise was drowned out by the feeling of nostalgia and a sense of permanence for once. Everypony leaving the bar counter, except one buck. Powerful build, cybernetic leg, a coat and a wide hat. And of course Pear Cider behind the bar counter, didn't she grow up in here? she smiled and waved.

"Welcome home Dust, I'll get your drink in a moment." As little Cider walked back into the storage.

Little? She is probably an adult these days.

I sat down in my usual place resting front hoofs and head on the counter, and sighed. Turning to the strange buck sitting next to me, I asked "You are not going to let me have my drink in peace are you?"

The silence in the room was now deafening as games and discussions came to a halt and everypony turned to stare. Seemingly unfazed he answered. "How so? I am new in town was only wondering if there was a princess that I haven't yet heard of."

"Sorry, but I am afraid that I am not a princess. Equestria has none left, things went to Tartaros in case you didn't notice. And sorry if I am not in a chatting mood, I rarely am this time of the year."

"Point taken miss." Not with my luck I am afraid.

As Pear Cider came out with the radioactive soda and a small bottle of rainbow liquid the eyes of the buck widened and here it comes "Ehm... Miss, that there is nothing you should drink. It will kill you, if you are lucky."

"Unfortunately I do not have that kind of luck."

Cider decided to interject and stated "Miss Dust comes in around this time of year, every year, and always has her special Rad Duster. It's a tradition. Many caravanners and gunners look forward to it."

"But, that thing is a impelled metamorphosis potion. It practically is pure TAINT! It turns things into monsters merely by exposure. I don't even know what happens you were to drink it?!"

My eyes focused on him, He doesn't mean any harm, only wants to help. Paranoia and trauma stirs. So did Fluttershy, so did REDEYE. Nobody ever means any harm yet they always hurt, it always HURTS!!

Wait, refocus. Focus.

"Shit. Miss, I am sorry. I didn't mean any personal offense." What? wait... 'personal'. Oh, he is clever? Really...

"Forgiven, but really you shouldn't poke your nose into other ponies' business. Are you fresh out of Stable 101 or something?"

The buck flinched, just for a second. That hit close to home. "Nah miss, left back when the overmare died. Got to have been close to two decades now."

"Wise. With visionaries like Red Eye running around it is either obey or be hunted down. Has always been that way. But really, you should have someone fix up your leg. The stripes or the Rangers can do it if you can convince them to not dismantle you in the process."

"Ehr... thanks for the advice miss, I was going to Goldstar but I shall check with the others as well."

"Goldstar? You wouldn't fit in there. Trust me, the little princess to be would not take kindly to you walking around. She is a visionary after all."

He seemed to be taking the hint and was processing the information, "Yeah... I'll probably need to get my leg fixed up. Been bugging out on me in this cold. Not to mention, hurts as hell. Metal and snow doesn't mix. Doesn't mix at all."

And he is well off the subject, now for my drink. Slowly the games and discussions started again, albeit a bit quieter than before. And the buck was lost in thought, like he had caught the atmosphere of bittersweet nostalgia that were in the air. Cider sat down on a stool on the opposite side the counter with a glass of whiskey and lifted it for a toast.

"Another year eh, Dust?" Heh, there is a reason I keep coming back here. A faint smile and a glass raised.

"Another year, Cider. Thanks."

Author's Note

This is the first pony story I wrote, took an evening and is mostly to set the mood and establish the setting a bit. The Black Hoof remains my favourite city on the westcoast, and I am quite fond of the saloon.

Dust, is one of the many monster ponies that ended up in the area. More specifically she was an unwilling prototype for an earlier stage of Project Coronation before the IMP was finalized. So in practice she is an overgrown immortal unicorn with alicorn magic and is in a constant berserk state similar to Nightmare Moon.

She is also the patron saint of the Black Hoof and one of the reasons nopony dares to mess with the Pear family or the town, even in winter when starvation hits.