Author's Note

https://youtu.be/MVnSFj6XQZY

Attack...

You find yourself in a trench, surrounded by friends...

"Oh stop it with that shit dude, you got a wife," a burrly buck as black as coal said as he roared with laughter.

"Yeah, but she ain't got tits like these," said a young pegasus, his fur as green as leaves in spring.

"Those...are impressive," a blushing young gryphon said, pulling her helmet over her face to hide her blush that tinged her white cheeks a rose colored red.

"You think those Gryphon Empire bastards will ever make a move," I asked.

The black buck looked at me with a winning grin and spoke with a voice as smooth and dark as billowing smoke from a fire that burned within.

"They'd have to be stupid to make a push while we've got four machine guns."

You laugh and brush off your fears, letting yourself relax...

"So Motive, you worked on the railroad before you joined," the gryphon asked, fidgeting a little as a bottle of gin was passed to her by the pegasus, who still gazed at the explicit pictures.

"Yeah, I was a train engineer. I was actually hoping to be an engineer on one of those armored trains in Saddle Arabia, but wound up here in the trenches," he said with a grin.

"How about you ---? What did you do before the war," he asked as I was passed the bottle.

I took a pull off the bottle, ignoring the foul taste and wiping my mouth before speaking.

"Same thing I'm doing now. I was-am a journalist," I stammered, passing the bottle back to Locomotive.

"I was a musician," the pegasus spoke out.

"They used to call me 'E Flat The Great Pianist' before I was drafted," he said with a dry chuckle.

All was well until...

BOOM!

Flat stopped grinning as dirt flew, wood supports splintered, and he was skewered and burried under a section of the trench that colapsed.

"GAS," Motive screamed as he dawned his mask.

I frantically did the same, sealing it and clearing the filter as fast as my shaking talons allowed me.

The white gryphon helped me to my feet, but I fell back down and screamed as pain shot up my leg.

I looked down and saw three pieces of wood the size of pencils sticking out of my left hind leg, straight through the bone.

Motive pressed his shotgun to my chest before hauling me onto his back and galloping to the machine gun position 50 meters away, avoiding ponies galloping to secure the freshly smoking gap in the trench line.

UNFINISHED