Pom's Chapter — A Novelization of a Story That Doesn't Yet Exist

by AIPomgeon

Rating: everyone
Tags: Them's Fightin' Herds, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Adventure
Length: 44872

An adventure detailing Pom's unwilling journey through Foenum for the Prophet's Key.

When Pom, a young and passive lamb, hears news that Baaah and the rest of Foenum are in danger, she makes a terrible mistake that sets her on a perilous journey. Now the champion of the meadow, Pom is forced to leave her home of Baaah and travel across the world to find the Prophet's Key, meeting different cultures and running into the deadly predators who threaten Foenum.

In late May I began an AI Dungeon playthrough exploring what could be Pom's scenario in Them's Fightin' Herds—an excellent fighting game whose story is only 1/6th complete as of this story's beginning—and enjoyed it enough that I continued it quite a while, using the AI for suggestions and rewriting them in my own prose. It was requested that I upload it to FIMfiction, and after completing a number of chapters I feel it's ready for me to do so. The story has been entirely rewritten and edited for proper third-person formatting.

I am unsure how long the story will last; I had originally intended it to end shortly after where it currently is, lasting about as long as I expect Pom's real canon chapter to, but I now feel a surge of ideas to further explore the character's journey past that end point.

Copyright:

THEM’S FIGHTIN’ HERDS ® & © 2017-2021 Mane6, Inc. All rights reserved.

THEM’S FIGHTIN’ HERDS is a registered trademark of Mane6, Inc.

Published 2021-07-29 01:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-02-18 11:35:00 UTC

Chapter 1 — The Meadow

"Oh, but somebody has tae do something!"

These words were the largest and possibly final mistake of Pom's life.

It was an ordinary, peaceful day in Baaah when a strange foreigner bearing terrible news arrived. A zebra, Pom were later told was the species, ran across town with that terrible message. "They've returned! The predators have returned!"

Every sheep in earshot quickly went into a panic, least of all Pom. She rushed home, checking on her pups. Ruff, Tuft and Puff all greeted her at the door, yapping excitedly, while runt of the litter Woof sat sound asleep. Gently she woke him, and he licked her face.

"C'mere lads, something bad is happening." Pom said, affixing leashes to them.

"Pom! Are ye in there?" A neighbor shouted from outside.

"Aye, I'm safe!" Pom replied.

"There's an emergency meeting! A town hall is tae happen at the Commons Chamber in Baaah!" she said, before leaving with her family.

Pom had never been to a meeting before. Every sheep old enough to work is encouraged—if not strongarmed—into participating. 'Democracy is the founding principle of our society!' she once heard someone say, and it has to be true if everyone takes it so seriously. She should go. Just to see what it's like.

She checked the pups' food and water and, with a personalized goodbye to each, promised to be back soon. Pom shut the door and ran after the others, hoping someone there knew the way.

The hall was noisy, every sheep in a panic. It was the first time Pom had ever been inside the hall, a tall, ornate building made of brick; the cacophony of noise bounced off the walls and ceiling, only amplifying the chaos and confusion she felt at the situation. She wriggled past the masses of wool until finding a spot where she could see the front.

A loud bleat erupted from the podium. Instantly the entire hall fell silent, all ears listening intently as town elder O'Donaghewe spoke. "My fellow Sheeple, we are gathered here today with terrible news. I'm sure every sheep here has heard, but the predators, long ago sealed away by the Horned Prophet, have begun tae break their containment."

The silence from the crowd was broken by a high-pitched yapping. Pom swiveled in surprise, recognizing Woof's barks from the first one. "Bad puppy," Pom scolded in a whisper, "I told ye to stay home." Several eyes glared at Pom as she did her best to calm the mischievous pup.

The elder continued, surely aware of the noise but not about to acknowledge it. "'tis known that ages ago, when the races of Foenum lived as one, many Sheeple assisted in the war tae seal the predators. The only way tae accomplish this, as spoken by the Prophet, is tae find the Key used to create the seal. If we are tae assist Foenum once again, we would 'ave tae send a champion in search of the Key."

There's light murmuring among the crowd at this.

"The floor is open tae anyone with suggestions on how tae handle this matter."

Nobody spoke up. Nobody moved. Everybody had frozen, not wanting to be the first. Even Woof, reading the room, fell quiet.

Minutes passed like this. Somebody has to speak up, Pom thought. This is important, the lives of all Sheeple depend on this. They aren't going to just leave things like this, right?

What if somebody suggests not doing anything? The predators would eventually reach Baaah, putting everyone in danger. We can't just do nothing.

She didn't want to say it. She really, really didn't want to; if the hall disagreed with her it'd be the most embarrassing moment of her life. And yet, before she could properly process what she had done, the words escaped her lips.

"Oh, but somebody has tae do something!"

There's a gasp from the crowd. Pom quickly regrets her actions, trying to slink into the crowd and be forgotten, but every eye in the massive hall is staring at he.

"What a brave little lamb, tae speak her mind in such a crisis!" the elder bleats.

Immediately a voice from the crowd chimes in, "she's right, we must do something! She must be our champion!"

"Wait I—" Pom begins, before being drowned out.

"For a lamb to carry this burden, she must be the most courageous among us!" another voice booms.

It's hopeless to try and speak out against it. The crowd unanimously agrees upon Pom being the meadow's champion. Quickly she's pushed up to the podium, being made truly the spotlight of attention.

"Little lamb, what is your name?" the elder asks.

"Pom..." she says meekly, heart pounding.

"We will assist ye in any way you wish, Pom. Any preparations necessary can and will be complete by tomorrow morning, when ye leave on yer quest."

Pom waves her hooves back and forth in protest. "Nae! I'm not brave! I'm sorry, I shouldn't'a said anything. I cannae be the champion!" she pleads.

"But ye've been chosen by the hall," Elder O'Donaghewe says. "All Sheeple follow the will o' the flock. By speaking up, ye have already proven yeself worthy. The sheepdogs will protect us from the wolves for a time, but ye already know that won't be enough forever. 'tis why you spoke, aye?"

Pom stammers for a moment, trying to form any kind of argument, but knows his words to be true. She hangs her head and slowly nods, to a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

A feast is prepared in the champion's honor. Multiple times during the meal Pom speaks up about her fears, that she isn't strong enough for the task, but it's passed off as modesty by whomever hears it. Trying to distract herself Pom notices the sheepdogs, as usual, aren't touching their greens. Several slink off, and out of curiosity, or perhaps just to escape the crowd, Pom follows them.

With Pom trailing behind, the dogs begin digging at the base of a stone wall. After a few moments they unpack a loose bit of dirt and climb under it, sneaking into the garden. Hoping to stop them from tearing anything up Pom quickly gives chase; her body is small enough to fit in the crawlspace, but her spindly legs make it hard to get all the way through. After a couple minutes she makes it to the other side, her snow-white coat dirtied, and makes a startling discovery.

One of the dogs has caught a rabbit. Carrying the poor thing in its teeth, no signs of life from it, it pads to a corner and begins picking away at its flesh. Dogs... Are carnivores? This explains so much, otherwise they would eat the greens that were provided for them, right? Why else would they hunt?

Pom find herself in deep thought trying to rationalize what she's seeing here. Perhaps they need to eat flesh to survive, like we need to breathe air. They probably can't help it any more than we can. But if they're carnivores, and they hunt, that would mean they're... predators...

As the realization hits a chill runs down her spine. They are predators, just like the ones in the tales. The very things that prey upon her kind! All this worry about the predators returning, but they've been right under our noses!

A panic takes hold and Pom runs out from under the crawlspace. She rushes towards the open fields outside of town. You must get away! her mind races. These beasts are out to get us all! They're-

Not looking ahead Pom bumps into a large pile of fur. She looks up to see the alpha of the sheepdogs, Big Papa, staring intently at her. A tan-furred dog nearly three time her size, Papa leans in to sniff Pom and she closes her eyes, bracing for the inevitable gnashing of teeth.

But none comes. Big Papa licks her face, much like a dog would do to greet anyone else, and lets out a friendly bark. With that he trots off into the fields, looking behind once and wagging his tail.
He doesn't try to eat her...

Pom cautiously follows Big Papa, at this point with no idea what to expect. Upon catching up he looks at her and lets out a stiff but friendly bark. He then turns towards the field, stretches his neck, and begins to let out a howl. His cry is joined by those of his brethren and, not sure why herself, Pom echoes his actions with a meek bark.

Several rabbits and mice flee from the field at the noise, some with plants in their mouths. They've been eating the crops! And the dogs have been protecting the crops by hunting the rabbits! They've been making sure the Sheeple have a good harvest, doing their jobs, while also feeding themselves.

Why don't the other sheep seem to know this? Since she was old enough to pitch in Pom has been giving them greens, and it's just been going to waste. If the Sheeple knew, there'd be far less spoilage.

"Oh, you're a good lad," Pom says, petting Big Papa. If she's lived with such good predators all her life, the ones that have been sealed away might not be so bad themselves. Maybe she can talk them down, find peace.

She can hope.

With that, and with a quick stop to wipe off the dirt, Pom treks back to the feast, Big Papa following close behind. Very close behind. Almost a little uncomfortable, given the sudden revelation.

"Pom, lass! I've not seen you in a while!" O'Donaghewe chimes as she returns. "Where've ye gone?"

"S-Sorry, I just needed a walk, ran into Papa on the way." Pom says. She wants to bring up the carnivore discovery but suddenly nerves kick in. Two shakeups is too many for this town in one day.

"Aye, Big Papa seems tae have taken fancy tae ye." the elder says. "The size of him, eh? Once ended a trade dispute with the deer just by bringing him along, they took one look at 'im and buggered off."

"Ye don't say."

"I do. Didn't even ha'e tae use the monologue I had prepared!" He chuckles. "Anyway, how're ye enjoying the feast?"

Not wanting to reveal how long she'd been gone Pom just says "Oh it's, it's very nice, elder."

"Thought so," he chuckles, patting his thick wool coat. He's well-respected by all of Foenum. In his youth he probably would've made a much better champion than Pom, or so she thinks.

A few moments pass. "Elder, I—" Pom begins, hoping to let out her grievances, when he shoves a piece of food in her face.

"Great innit?" he beams. "Get as much as ye can, it'll be the last you see such abundance for a while."

Her nerve shriveling into dust at the slightest resistance, Pom thanks the elder, takes the food and sits. Big Papa continues to loom from behind for the rest of the night.

The feast begins to die down after an hour or so. Stuffed, and feeling no less worried about her sudden conscription, Pom trots off as soon as it seems like she can get away with it without being rude. Returning home the four pups all greet Pom, and she prepares for bed. That's when the elder visits, tapping on her door. The pups go wild as he enters, as they always do. He puts on a smile as he greets them, but beneath it his expression is grim.

"Pom, lass, I need tae speak with ye about the feast," he says seriously. "I ken ye were nervous about it."

"Och, the feast was fine. It was very nice that you all did that! But..."

"Say it, lass."

"I cannae be our champion! I've not any skills besides herding, no strengths, and the last thing I desire is a brawl. Why a wee gal like me, elder?"

"Pom, it's the will o' the flock. Ye know how our people are, ye were CHOSEN. And ye were chosen for a reason."

"No, no! If I'd not opened my mouth nobody would be saying that!"

"But ye did, and that's why you're the right choice. The will o' the flock... Well, it's a complicated thing. But it's definitely there, and it rarely steers us wrong. Trust me."

Pom steps outside and begins pacing. "I am unqualified for this task! How can I lead anyone? And against such fierce creatures? Elder, I'm not brave like our sheep-leaders of old!"

"Nonsense, girl," he grins from the doorway, "I've lived a long time and I know who we are. The Sheeple 'ave never had the strength and courage of cattlekind, the wanderlust of the Goatani, or the perseverance of the Alpake. The only traits we ever had were wool to sell, the patience to sell it, and a taste for grass. We are sheep. Simple, mercantile sheep."

"No, we're not! That cannae be all we are at all."

"But it is, lass. We're born a certain way, and we're playin' the cards we've been dealt. Then there's you, Pom. Ye think ye're not brave, because ye've not been put in a position tae draw it out. But that spark is there and the flock saw it. They know yer champion material, and I know it, even if you don't."

The old ram puts a hoof on Pom's shoulder. She begins to protest, but falls silent at his gaze. Looking away, she murmurs, "What... What if I fail?"

"Then ye fail. But failure doesn't mean death, it just means there's more tryin' tae be done. Let the flock down and keep on tryin'. Ye got yer dogs to help you, remember."

Pom's eyes widen, realizing a new danger. "Elder, what if something happens tae the pups?"

"Yer gonna have tae protect them, and rise tae the occasion tae do so. Those dogs'll be fine. An' so will you."

Pom hugs the elder, crying a bit. "I'm so scared..." she whimpers.

"We all are right now. Don't let yer fear stop ye from doin' what needs tae be done." He ruffles her fur, calming her down a bit.

The elder leaves Pom be for the night, and she tries her best to sleep. It's an ultimately failed effort; no matter how she tries, her mind wanders to visions of horrific beasts surrounding her and her pups, ready to close in for the kill. Despite how much she tries to shake the visions of horror in her mind, the nightmares just don't stop coming. Vile, alien creatures that want nothing more than eat her alive, hordes of beasts with no rhyme or reason to their actions, an army of them marching out of their prison to Baaah, tearing through the flock like tissue. All of these plague Pom's slumber and fill it with dread.

Pom awakens, shaking and whimpering, to the blunt force of Ruff and Tuft jumping on her and the sun peeking from the mountains. Doing her best to shake off her grogginess, Pom instinctively fills their food bowls with produce, before remembering her discovery of their actual diet and stopping. They run off, probably to hunt or to get food from other dogs who've already hunted. Pom shakes her head, does her best to smile and exits.

She steps out into the early morning light, only to immediately bump into Big Papa, Big Mama right beside him. Pom jumps back startled; Mama's almost as large as Papa, the two of them overwhelming together.

"Papa, what's gotten into ye these days?" Pom asks, though he stands there in silence. He's a dog, of course, he's not going to reply.

As Pom performs her morning duties for possibly the last time, the pair of dogs refuse to let her leave their sight, following her to every destination. Continually other sheep approach Pom to wish her a farewell; some of them sound like they don't expect to see her ever again.

It's a depressing way to spend her last morning, but soon enough it's time to go. Pom calls her dogs from afar and heads to the gates for the last time. The elder is waiting for her, a large amount of supplies contained in saddlebags beside him.

"That's, a lot to carry, elder..." Pom says. "My pups and I aren't strong enough tae take all this."

"Nae, but they are," O'Donaghewe smiles, gesturing to the two large dogs that have been following.

"Wait but ye don't mean—"

"Aye, they're coming with ye. Ye didn't notice the liking Papa took tae ye?"

Pom shakes her head. "They're the best defense Baaah would 'ave against the predators, they need tae be here!"

"They are the best defense against the predators. That's why they need tae come with ye, and protect ye."
Big Mama barks in agreement.

Pom feels a small panic at having to take care of them. "I cannae even keep my own pups in line all the time, this is too much. I quit, ye need to find another champion, I—"

But Papa and Mama are already saddled, and the gate begins closing behind her.

"Wait! I've changed my mind! I'm not ready for this!" Pom shouts.

"You never will be 'til you do it, lass," O'Donaghewe says. "We'll see each other again, I'm sure of it."

Pom missed her chance to get back in. The gate is sealed shut, and the elder trots away with one last comment:
"Take care of 'em, won't ye?"

The old ram disappears from view, and she's alone with the dogs, no way back in.

A tiny part of Pom believed that this would all turn out to be a dream, that she would wake up in her bed with no worries, no threat of the predators, a return to the peace she was used to. And while that idea was mostly crushed when she woke up this morning, any shred of hope vanished at this moment.

"Oh... Oh no... This is bad... Oh..." Pom says to herself, repeatedly. She begins hyperventilating, and her chest grows tight.

It would be difficult for Pom to even describe how she's feeling, except that it feels horrible. Like something is trying to crush her from all directions, to the point that she struggles to stand tall despite best efforts.

"I can't... I cannae..."

Pom feels a sob well up from within, and lets it out as a whimper. She grabs her puppies and bury her face in their fur.

"I can't do this... I wanna go home..."

Tears stream down her face as she whines and whimpers. The pups look on with an expression of sympathy, but they can't do anything to help.

Suddenly Pom is jolted upright by the boom of Big Papa's bark. She looks at him, and he gestures away from the town. Beyond Baaah is a beautiful valley path, mountains on both sides, wild flowers blooming all around. It's a path she recognizes. It's one that leads to hr favorite grazing spot, a lovely patch of grass by a small spring where the water plants grow.

It would make a lovely sight, if she wasn't feeling so miserable.

Pom stares into the horizon for a bit. Suddenly Woof starts pushing against her back hoof, urging her to move. The other pups seem just as interested.

Pom tries swallowing her tears and, one hoof at a time, takes the first steps on this journey.

Chapter 2 — The Woodlands

Woof keeps pushing Pom along, nipping at her heels whenever she starts slowing down.

The path, at least up to the edge of visibility, is a fairly easy one. There are apple trees, wild dandelions, and more; at first Pom stops at each one for a snack, but after a few times Big Papa begins getting annoyed and stops her with a commanding bark. She sighs and goes along.

Past the last patch of dandelions the terrain becomes much more uneven, and Pom quickly tires out, though she's not afforded any rest. Eventually, the dogs lead her to a vague, winding hillside path that takes her higher and higher up into the mountains. The dogs pause at every twist and turn, making sure their leader is still following and checking for any possible hazards ahead.

Eventually, they arrive at a patch of particularly fine grass growing on a plateau. "Okay lads, sit and stay," Pom says, legs finally giving out as she splays onto the ground. She lies there grazing for a bit; Judging by the sun, Pom determines she's at least an hour away from home, further than she had ever gone before.

"Och." she grumbles to herself. "This is a right mess. Don't even know where I'm headed."

Pom has second thoughts, considering turning around and heading back. It's not too long a walk to make it back home. The moment Pom so much as turns her head, however, Big Papa utters a single gruff bark. The pups play carefree around him but he stares only at Pom, the message clear: "don't even think about it."

"Yer a real mind-reader I guess." Pom sighs.

Suddenly the dogs become alert, and she hears footsteps. Pom looks up, expecting the worst, but instead of that sees a sheepdog coming around the bend. It's not one she recognizes at all; judging by its face and its heavy panting, it's been running all day to the point of exhaustion.

The dog limps directly to Pom, as if it recognizes her abilities as a caregiver. She gives it a lookover, but it cries out at the first touch. It doesn't take long to see how badly it's injured; underneath the fur are a myriad of scratch and bite marks, its gray coat stained with dried blood. "Oh my!" Pom shouts, rummaging through the supplies for a first-aid kit.

She starts cleaning the wounds as soon as possible but the sheepdog howls in pain, refusing to cooperate; some of the wounds are deep, and all of them were made by fangs and claws. The dog looks up with mournful brown eyes, begging Pom for relief. She fights against its wriggling, applying the medicine despite its protests, and bandages what she can. When she's done, the stray lets out a whine of relief.

"Poor thing, what could've done this tae ye?" Pom says, petting it and giving it water. "Head straight back tae the village, lad. They'll treat ye better than I could."

The dog whines gratefully, showering her in kisses from a sitting position. After waiting for a bit, it struggles to its feet and begins limping down the path back towards Baaah.

Whatever hurt that poor stray must be further ahead. Seeing this Pom really don't want to continue, but she also doesn't want that danger roaming so close to home. She continues on, staying parallel to the path that the dog seemed to come from, hopping across the occasional creek and leaping over logs as her own dogs sniff and point her the right way.

Shortly Pom comes across the first sign of the fight, a wide slash across a tree stump and a spatter of blood on the ground beneath it. It's dry, but it's more than enough to see that there was a fight here. She hears a branch break behind her and spins around, jumping back. Her heart races as she trains her gaze on rattling bushes. A moment later she spots a tuft of black fur sticking out from behind a tree trunk, rapidly shaking back and forth.

"Woof, don't scare me like that! Heel!" Pom scolds. The small dog quivers and whines, ducking his head and diverting his gaze to the ground. Pom can't be mad at him for very long though; as soon as Woof wags his tail she gives him an affectionate pet to let him know she's still glad to see him.

"To me lads, all of ye." Pom instructs. "We 'ave no idea what could be lurking."

Pom searches for anything else out of the ordinary, finding pawprints and a few more drops of blood here and there. Despite being such a large forest there's an obvious trail leading through it. Judging by the amount of trampled grass and dirt, whatever did this is large and doesn't care about hiding. Pom follows the trail for an hour or so until she notices something out of place; an area cordoned off by thick tree branches and leaves. The dirt is noticeably more trampled than the rest of the forest, with bits of broken plants still caught up in the mess of it all.

Ahead is the glimpse of a black shape slumped against the trees. It moves slightly, and at once the entire posse of dogs take a defensive stance, Big Papa moving in front of Pom and Big Mama behind. As she gets closer Pom realizes it resembles a large dog, just a wee bit smaller than Mama. It's... not quite a dog though. It's hard to see under the shadows of the canopy but it seems scrawnier, more angular-looking. Its teeth stick out of its mouth even when closed, and its claws, which are barely noticeable on sheepdogs due to their thick fur, jut out by a few inches. Red eyes glare at her, seemingly alien; Pom can read the emotions of Baaah's dogs quite well, but there's no understanding between her and this... thing. It doesn't move as they approach; it just lets out a low growl.

Mama and Papa growl back. Not wanting her dogs to get hurt, Pom makes her best attempt to reason with this not-dog. "Here lad, it's okay. Are ye hurt?" she says slowly, stepping forward slightly. Big Papa growls loudly as she does so, but she ignore his protests.

The strange dog gives Pom a look conveying both pain and anger, and falls silent; its eyes seem to roll, and for a second Pom thinks it's fainted, but the moment she steps toward it—no intentions but to make sure it's not wounded—it leaps forward to the edge of the shadows. The next thing she knows the beast is on top of Big Papa, who ran in front of her without fear, biting into his thick hide refusing to let go. Pom yells in surprise as her dogs fight back, a frenetic tussle.

As Big Papa bellows in pain, something snaps in Pom's head, and without any regard for her own safety she jumps into the fray. With no fighting experience she blindly runs forward and flails at the beast with her hooves. If only due to her running start, the blows manage to loosen its grip long enough for Papa to shake it off, it hitting the ground with a thud.

The fake dog looks Pom dead in the eyes as it rolls to its feet. She inhales sharply and braces herself, having made herself its biggest target.

But for some reason, it doesn't strike. It just looks at Pom, almost as if it's waiting for something. The moment stretches on until a chill goes up her spine, and Pom finds herself turning around to check if anything's behind her; nothing is.

"Whaddya want?" Pom says in the moment of stillness. "Why attack us? We've not done anything tae warrant it. If yer hurt I can help."

The wolf doesn't respond, doesn't move, for several long moments. Then it walks forward slowly, until it's only inches away from Pom. She becomes paralyzed with fear as it leans in, her dogs a hair trigger from piling onto it. By the time it stops Pom can feel its hot breath on her neck, slightly ragged from the tussle thus far.

Then it speaks, voice clear and precise, but still unlike anything Pom has ever heard. A haunting voice from another world. "We want to walk the earth.
To regain our place in this world. To hunt and feast upon your kind."

It pauses for a moment, an agonizing moment, before adding: "We will have our revenge. On our prey, for sealing us away. And on the traitors who stood with you over us. We just need the Key . . ."

It's unclear what would have happened next had Pom been alone. Fortunately for her, the dogs beside her would never allow that hypothetical thing to happen. Big Mama tackles the beast before it even gets the chance to strike, hurling it away from Pom as the other dogs surround it. It lets out a piercing howl as it touches the sun-lit grass, echoing throughout the forest, before it lurches back at Pom, using the common tongue one final time.

"You cannot stop us. . ."

At the conclusion of its statement the dog-thing explodes into a cloud of smoke, nothing left behind.

It takes a minute before Pom can shake off the terror inflicted upon her and move. Its words were direct, no room for interpretation. Pom just survived her first encounter with a predator, and there are going to be many more.

The pack moves quickly, worried if the predator has friends around, but it seems it was all alone. Still, Pom doesn't want to stick around and see if it's right behind her or not, the smoke nothing more than a magic trick. She looks over each of her six dogs; Big Papa has some light scratches but everyone else got through that unscathed, herself included.

There are predators about. Horrible creatures that feast on the flesh of their prey, which is now confirmed to include sheep. And that predator called the sheepdogs "traitors." They do eat meat, and they look so similar.

"Big Papa, were you one of them?" Pom asks.

He barks, and Pom doesn't know why she even asked.

"I guess ye can't talk like that thing can."

There's a howl in the distance, stirring the dogs up. "Aye," Pom says to them, "I'm not sure what that was either." Pom starts moving forward, intent to get out of here as soon as possible, lest she gets attacked again. The path continues on deeper into the forest, light gradually lowering to a twilight as the woodlands get denser.

The pack follows in silence, though Papa and Mama keeps taking glances through the trees. "What is it?" says Pom. Papa stops and points his nose in one specific direction. In that direction she can see a large, conspicuous circle in the ground surrounding what seems to be nothing more than normal trees.

"Oh, that's..."

Pom is interrupted by a second howl. She turns to see the source, finding it much closer than it sounded. Another one of those cruel, dog-like things stands less than a hundred feet away, staring Pom dead in the eyes.

"Run!" Pom shouts. Before the word passes her lips, the predator leaps. It takes no time to close the distance and it seems focused entirely on Pom; it doesn't even target the dogs.

Big Papa takes the lead, ramming into the assailant just in the nick of time.

"Pups, get tae safety!" Pom instructs the quartet of smaller dogs. "Mama, to me!" Ruff, Tuft and Puff all move a safe distance from the dog-thing while Big Mama begins sprinting towards it. Woof, however, refuses to leave Pom's side, not quite aware of how dangerous this situation is.

Pom turns, intent to get away from the beast herself, only to feel its claws lightly at her back She manages to scramble out of the way before her flesh is pierced, outrunning it just long enough for Mama to assault it with a burst of violence. It skids more than twenty feet away, only to run right back toward the lamb. It leaps straight over Mama, Papa chasing after it, aiming at Pom's throat.

Pom ducks down, putting her hooves over her head. As if by divine coincidence, the motion hits the predator squarely in the jaw as it comes down. It stumbles backward in pain, unable to come to its senses before Papa barrels down on it, hitting it with the force of a freight train.

The predator flies past the perimeter of the strange circle. It lands on its feet, ready to pounce again, but out of nowhere is struck by a blinding beam of light from an unknown source. It cries out briefly in pain before vanishing in a puff of smoke like its brother before.

"What?!" shouts Pom, rubbing her eyes after the light show.

"Step forward not!" a voice commands.

Pom looks up, and there before her stands a proud unicorn. Her horn shines with a light so bright that its color cannot be distinguished, and her coat seems to be that of the palest snow. A lion's tail swings back and forth behind it as it gracefully walks forward.

"What an unexpected surprise," she states in a cold monotone voice. "I had heard wolves howling nearby, but I did not expect to find an ungulate here. Especially not one of the Sheeple."

"Where am I?" Pom asks. "Did you do that to that thing?"

"Thou hast entered the sacred woodlands of the Order, young lamb." she says. "Thou must be lost, for if thou knew of this place thou wouldst not dare approach it."

"I, I had no idea there were unicorns so close tae Baaah!" cries Pom. "I had heard of ye in stories but, only a few hours away..."

"A few hours? It is at least a day's trek from the village of Baaah to here."

"What? That cannae be right."

"Mayhaps the natural light of the woodlands has impacted thine sense of time? It is nearly midnight."

"WHAT?! Nae, the sun was at its highest when I entered the forest! Not more than an hour or two has passed since then!" shouts Pom.

"It seems thine senses are unreliable, lamb. Has the magic of the forest altered thine state of mind?" the unicorn sneers. As she continues she looks at Pom with pure derision. "With thine arrival, our secret is exposed. Thou should show gratitude at my mercy, for I am not glad that thee are here. It was only by chance that I was awake and sensed thine presence. The others are all asleep, and had thou entered our sacred grounds without a source of protection thou would have perished much like the wolf."

"A wolf? So that's its name." Pom says. "Why do they look so similar tae my pups? I don't like it. 's perverse, that's what it is."

The unicorn laughs haughtily. "Thou believe the wolf's form to be the work of evil magic? No, that is nature, how it has always looked and acted. It is thy companions who have changed."

"Elaborate." Pom says, not liking that answer.

"Command me not!" she shouts, the sky cracking with her words.

Pom cowers, begging. "I'm sorry! Please I didn't mean tae offend ye. But I don't know what's going on! The sheepdogs 'ave been good tae the Sheeple for longer than any of us can remember, but they're so close tae that awful wolf. Why is it? Please, if ye know I beg ye tae tell me."

The unicorn looks down at the cowering lamb and sighs. "Very well, I shall. Knowledge is for those who seek it, after all." She pauses, and seems to ignore Pom for a moment as she goes into thought.

And then, she speaks.

"The Order of the Horn have kept to the Woodlands since time immemorial, tending to our trees and plants, making sure they grow in the most wondrous way possible.
"Does the shrub commit evil?
"Does the flower dare think it is better than another?
"No, for we tend to them all equally, granting them safe haven from the horrors beyond these lands."

She gets closer as her tone lowers. "Yet, we can only maintain our domain so far. Past these woodlands are many dangers that we cannot micromanage, not without imposing an unfair will upon the world."

She turns away again. "The predators dare not attack us, for we are powerful and they wish to survive. The other races of Foenum possess neither our knowledge or talent with the arcane, however, and for eons have struggled with the predators. Then, on an eventful day, one of the few outsiders to possess a mastery of magic rallied the ungulates and banished their foes to The Hold."

"Aye, but what does this h—"

"Interrupt me not!" The sky crackles once more and Pom winces.

She raises a cloven hoof and continues where she stopped. "But surely the Prophet failed to gather ALL the predators, for the predators are crafty. Mayhap a pack of wolves managed to hide away in proximity of the ungulates. Mayhap a docile breed of ungulates allowed this to happen, knowing of them but either neglecting or failing to drive them away."

"You mean—" Pom begins to say, but quickly hushes herself after a glare.

"Thy conclusion is intelligent, lamb. The subservience of the sheepdogs, genuine as it is, belies their origins. Millenia pass, and the wolves that once may have preyed upon the Sheeple have learned to coexist.
"Why would they not, if the Sheeple were so willing to cohabitate, providing shelter and a place to freely hunt weaker creatures?
"Was it not a better existence than the void?
"At one point in time, mayhap, a wolf developed that first genuine bond with a sheep. And thus did the wolf's progeny. After enough generations, it became a part of their core being, an instinctual desire to cultivate and protect the descendants of that sheep."

Stamping the ground the unicorn concludes, "I believe enough has been divulged to satiate thine curiosities."

"Thank ye, I... I'd 'ave never known, had I not met you." Pom says. "If what ye say is true—"

"I am certain in what I know and what I do not know. This I know." the unicorn states matter-of-factly.

"—then maybe the predators can be reasoned with and we don't have tae fight."

Staring at Pom dumbfounded, the unicorn is lost for words. Quickly finding them, though, she scolds, "How can one with the intelligence to seek our guidance be so daft? They are the PREDATORS, lamb. Their lifestyle is to pillage and destroy. That there was once one exception is a pleasant turn of events but thou art a FOOL to believe it can happen again, and overnight at that!"

Pom looks away bashfully. "Nae you're... yer right... I just don't want tae fight anyone."

Her demeanor changes immediately and her eyes squint disapprovingly. "Thou art a coward."

"Aye, I am. I don't wanna even be here."

"Then turn tail and return home, lamb. Thou shall be killed out in the world with thy attitude."

"I want tae, I really do! But the Sheeple picked me tae do this. If I'm tae find the Key—"

The sky crackles with an unprecedented ferocity as the unicorn snaps at Pom, her sense of decorum and pride replaced in an instant with an unfiltered furor. "Speak not of the Key to me! Enough damage has been done to the Order by those foolish enough to seek it! Never shall we help you or anyone on such a journey!"

Pom backs away in panic, slamming against a tree and landing on her back. "Please don't hurt me!" she cries.

"Sister Forsythia, what is the meaning of this? To scream like this at such an hour." Several unicorns, coats just as pure white, appear out of nowhere behind the one Pom has been speaking to.

"There is no cause for concern, Clemensia." the unicorn now identified as Forsythia states. "I am merely dealing with an intruder who, running from wolves, approached the sacred lands."

"I've not come here for trouble, please believe me. I don't even know how I'd get here again. I'm just looking for the Prophet's Key and I don't know where to go."

"The Prophet's Key?" a male unicorn says. "We shall not assist thee on such matters."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Forsythia already told me."

"Address me not!" Forsythia shouts.

"Cease thy tongue." the male says.

"Yes, forgive me Brother Hawthorne." Forsythia hangs her head in shame.

"If I could only be pointed in the right direction it would be all I need, I don't want tae ever bother ye again." pleads Pom. Thinking for a moment Pom follows up with, "also it's late, and scary. I don't want to run in any predators while I sleep, so, and I dinnae mean any offense and apologize, but if I could stay the night..."

"You DARE to ask for entry to our grove? All the secrets that could be stolen, and for you and those beasts—"

"Silence thy tongue! Else I steal your voice." Hawthorne threatens, horn glowing.

"I have spoken out of line and wish for penance, Brother."

"Return to thy study. I shall decide thy punishment at a later time."

"Yes, Brother."

Forsythia teleports away without further word, deeply ashamed with herself.

Turning to the lamb, Clemensia speaks. "Do not judge Forsythia too harshly. There has been a disturbance in the Order that we cannot discuss here, but it has impacted her greatly."

"Nae, I'm sorry for speaking out of line." Pom says. "I really must learn not tae speak up."

"On the contrary, lamb," Clemensia continues, "this has been festering ever since the incident and it is for the greater that those grievances be aired, lest we lose another."

"That being said," speaks Hawthorne, "Forsythia is correct in that we cannot allow thee to enter our grounds. If thou art really seeking the Prophet's Key, thou may find the information desired in the deerfolk capital, Reine."

"Och, thank ye. Do ye know the shortest path to get there?"

"Indeed. Would thee like to take the shortest path?"

"The sooner the predators can be resealed, the sooner I can go home." Pom says.

"Very well. May we never see each other again." Hawthorne says. The two unicorns glow brightly, and with a single flash Pom is magicked out of the woodlands.

Pom finds herself on an empty icy cobblestone street, freezing and alone save for an extremely startled deer couple who move away from her. She looks around but her dogs are nowhere to be found.

Realizing what's been done to her, and her inability to return to that forest, Pom darts around for any sight of her pups. She runs up the street and down again, but there's no sight of any of them.

Her final hopes dashed, Pom is about to cry when Woof appears about fifty feet away, beelining toward her. She cradles him, feeling proper happiness for the first time since this nightmare of a journey began. "Woof, boy, I was so worried. If you're here then the other pups must be transported here too, aye?"

Woof licks her face.

"We'll ha'e to gather them post-haste. Poor things must be scared to death, shivering in the cold. We'll find 'em and then find a place to spend the night." Pom turns around—

—and faces two deer guardsmen in uniform. The deer couple from before look onward at the scene.

"We're told you teleported straight within the city walls?" one says.

"Um, not really by choice but aye?" Pom says, backing away slightly.

"That's called trespassing." the second states bluntly. "Could you please come with us?"

"Could this wait? I got separated from my pups and I really need to find them."

"It really cannot wait." the first one says as the two guards take to each of Pom's flanks. "We can take you in peacefully or we can use force."

"I... okay, let's go." Pom and Woof follow the guards, still glancing around for any sighting of the other dogs, until they are taken to a cell.

Chapter 3 — Reine

This holding cell is by far the most comfortable place Pom has ever spent time in, willing or otherwise. The night air of the tundra chilled her to the bone, but the guards' post is warmed by a roaring fire. Pom lies on plush carpet, surrounded by pillows, as Woof snores beside her.

"Alright lamb, meal time." the guard attending the cell says as he enters. "The warden wasn't sure what sheep can eat so you'd best hope this will do." A tiny biped pushes a cart stacked with fresh fruit, vegetables, and at least ten kinds of dessert. The biped hands Pom a cup of hot cocoa before leaving her with the whole cart.

"All this is for me?" Pom asks in awe.

"Drink up before it all goes cold. You'll be questioned in the morning." the guard says sternly as he shuts the door behind him. The lock clicks, and he disappears from view.

Pom gulps down some of the cocoa, and nibbles on one of the many desserts. If this is how the deerfolk treat their prisoners she may have to commit a crime on purpose. It's not long before she falls asleep, a well-deserved rest after a full day's travel. She might've slept for twelve hours uninterupted. At the first sign of dawn, however, she's awoken by a familiar whine.

"Oy, I hear ye lad," Pom grumbles, rising to let him out—

Oh. Right.

Pom knocks against the metal bars and shouts out, "excuse me, could a guard come here?"

One of the guards runs over, rolling his eyes. "What is it, lamb?"

"My pup has to go."

"Go where?"

Pom stares at him blankly.

The guard's brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he sighs. "Alright," he says, opening the cell door, "I'll have someone take him." He whistles, and one of those bipeds rushes into the room. Woof, at no prompting, squeezes through the bars before the guard has a chance to open them.

"Wait, I need tae go with 'im, he can be a bit much tae handle."

"Nonsense," the guard assures, "the sprites are fully capable of handling a little floofball like that."

"ᚫᛚᚷᚢᛞ" the sprite agrees.

"Um... okay, I guess I'll trust ye." relents Pom. The pup looks up with his big, oval eyes and smiles as the sprite leads him away.

She wonders what her other dogs are up to unsupervised right now.

As Woof, the guard and the sprite leave a larger deer than the ones from before enters the room, accompanied by his own sprite with a notepad. "I was going to let you sleep longer but since you're awake we may as well get this over with."

"Aye, please. This place is great but I really need tae get out of here."

Pen in mouth the guard jots something down on the sprite's pad. "'Great' is a strange word, but alright. I'm going to need your name and a summary of how you entered Reine without passing through the gates."

"My name is Pom, from Baaah, and I was teleported here."

"What do you mean, teleported?" The deer leans in. "Can sheep do that?"

"Course not. Or, I mean I did, but... let me explain."

Pom quickly recaps the events of the past two days: the town hall, setting out, the first predator encounter. She embellishes a bit about the supposedly sacred Order of the Horn, just saying she "ran into a unicorn." It might not be good to tell others about a secret institution like that. The deer's face is stony throughout,

"And that's everything." Pom finishes.

"So what you're saying is you just ended up here, and there's a pack of floofballs running around the city, one of which is," the deer points to one line in particular on the notepad, "'about the size of a buffalo.'"

"Well, I guess I haven't SEEN a buffalo, but I'm told they're about that."

The deer immediately opens the bars to the cell. "It seems in our mutual interest to get you out of here before one of those dogs scares someone. You're free to go find them."

"Thank ye so much!" Pom say, hugging him for a moment.

"I'm happily married." the deer establishes.

"I—what? Never mind."

Pom hurries out of the guardpost to collect Woof. She's able to find the guard from earlier, as well as the sprite from earlier, but not Woof.

"Where's my pup?" Pom asks.

The two look at each other nervously. Nothing is said between them.

"Where's. My pup?" she asks again.

"Lamb, we, eh, he did, I mean," the guard stammers.

"ᛋᚩᚱᛟᛋᚩᚱᛟᛋᚩᚱᛟᛋᚩᚱᛟ" the sprite says, hands clasped.

"Where's my pup."

"Look we didn't think he could run that fast, okay?"

"ᛋᚩᚱᛟᛋᚩᚱᛟᛋᚩᚱᛟ"

Pom's eyes narrow. "Where's. My. Puppy."

"He ran off! It's no big deal, we'll find him."

Pom bolts away without giving them an extra thought, jingling the bell around her neck. "Woof?! Ruff! Puff? Puppies?" she calls out, looking for any of the pups.

"I'm so fired."

"ᛋᚩᚱᛟ"

Pom runs from one town to the other as quickly as she can, at multiple points nearly slipping on the slick ground. She manages to catch sight of one of them zipping around a tree; she tries to turn and chase after it, only to finally lose footing and slide uncontrollably into an outdoor table, knocking it and everything atop it over.

"Can we have one tender moment without a sheep ruining everything?" a doe seated at the table exclaims, running off in a huff.

"Sorry, 'ave you seen any puppies?" Pom asks the buck at the other end of the table, who merely glares before following his date.

Dusting herself off Pom continues in the direction she saw the dog go. To her delight, all four pups are gathered, playing with each other. "Lads!" she beams.

At the sight of their caretaker they scatter, as if this were a game. Pom chases after them best she can, but the streets are already beginning to crowd with commuters and passersby and one-by-one they're lost again. Pom does, however, manage to keep her eyes on one of the pups—Woof. There's no mistake about it; he's the runt of the litter, with short legs and a penchant for getting into trouble. He runs into an alleyway, Pom immediately on pursuit.

There's no one in the alleyway, giving Pom hope that she'll be able to catch the pup... until she hears a growl from a dumpster.

Pom turns to the dumpster, and a pair of glowing red eyes stares from within. It's not a wolf this time; though it possesses fangs and claws, it's much stockier, more rounded. It lets out a snarl and attacks.

Still sweating from the chase and on the verge of tears, Pom turns to flee but is immediately stopped from behind by the beast, grabbing and toppling her. The wind is knocked from her lungs as she's knocked flat on her back, squished between a pizza box and the monster.

"You are looking for the Key . . ." it hisses.

"Promise I'm not!" Pom lies. "Let's not do anything rash, we can talk about this!" It's only now, this close to it, that Pom notices its hide is not brown or even black, but a deep purple. It's easily six feet long and just about as wide, its muscular core pinning her down. She stares into the heart of the beast as it opens its maw. It inhales, its nostrils flaring as its eyes widen—before hissing in pain.

Woof bites down hard on its tail, maintaining his grip even as it swishes back and forth. Seizing the moment, Pom staggers it with a headbutt, and wrangles free of its grip. She pulls the pup free, but is stopped once more when it flings its tail forward, sending the pup into the street and onto the ground.

"PUP!"

Pom's sudden bark takes the predator aback, almost physically recoiling from it. Instinctively capitalizing on the moment, Pom flails her limbs in a frenzy, in a fury. Her hooves slam into the monster's eyes, blinding it and sending it thrashing about. Stumbling to her hooves Pom uses all her strength to pull open the dumpster's rusty lid, push the predator inside, slam the lid shut...

And turns to find herself face to face with a grumpy buck.

"Why are you doing back here? Dealing illicit goods? Hmm?" he yells, pulling Pom by the collar with a threatening stare.

"Ye need tae, look it's not, ye gotta—"

The buck rudely brushes past Pom, opening the dumpster, tossing a sack of trash, and leaving. The monster glares for a moment as the lid closes.

"Seems you can't trust anyone without floof. Who knows what you brought into this city." the deer scoffs before exiting the alley.

There's a long pause, as the sound of a growl builds up from within the dumpster. Pom braces herself as it reaches a fever pitch, and then the beast bursts from it.

Woof jumps straight at it, and Pom instinctively bites his tail to pull him away from the threat. He bites the predator square in the muzzle before he's pulled away from danger. The monster cries out, rubbing its face—and then Woof jumps in again. Pom pulls him away once more, he strikes once more, and is very narrowly wrangled away in time once more.

By this point the beast is infuriated, and charges head on. It looks hungry, wild, untamed. Pom takes a deep breath as she readies herself to fight not for her own life, but for that of her puppy.

She swats at it with both forelegs to no effect then, out of ideas, attempts holding it back with her hooves. The beast stands on its hind legs, reeling and grabbing at her, its only desire to tear the wool from her back with its claws. A paw swipes at her head, and with her last reserve of energy Pom leap into the air, hoping to evade its blow—but no sooner do her back hooves leave the ground when the great monster grabs her, pulling her back down with a passion.

Pom is knocked to the ground, the beast pinning her once more. It swats Woof away without issue and goes straight for the jugular.

Given the circumstances Pom had no expectation for her story to continue past this point. With perfect timing, however, Big Mama appears, grabbing the beast by the neck and throwing it into the wall. With a cry she charges the beast, kicking and clawing at it repeatedly in the stomach. The monster strikes at her, but it's already been weakened by the previous fight, and a few moments of struggling later turns into smoke.

"Huff... thank ye Mama," Pom pants. That there are predators lurking in a place as guarded as Reine ignites alarm bells within her. If they can get here, Baaah definitely isn't safe anymore.

"Mama, stay. Look after Woof, make sure the lad doesn't run off. I'll find the others, I promise." Pom tells her. Mama barks, and Pom leaves with a nod. Woof rushes after her, but Mama curbs him by stepping on his tail.

Pom runs aimlessly, asking various deer if they've seen any 'floofballs,' but either none have or none are willing to cooperate. At one point she bumps into a cow of all people; the cow had no idea either, mooing confusedly.

"Och, puppies, where ha'e ye gotten tae?" Pom mutters to herself, pressing onward.

Finally, she finds them. Ruff, Tuft and Puff are, as if going out of their way to be as difficult to rescue as possible, playing in the middle of a frozen lake.

"Puppies!" Pom cries. "Return to the warmth! The ice will not hold ye and you know it!"

They either don't understand or don't care, frolicking about on the thin layer of frost. Worrying she might be too late, Pom scurries onto the ice herself. A pink-furred doe shouts from afar, "Hey! That ice isn't stable!" but Pom proceeds anyway singlemindedly.

She slides to the center of the lake, attracting the attention of the three juvenile dogs. "Bad puppies! I've been chasing ye for hours! Get off the ice now! Go!"

They all leave, heads hung, and Pom feels relief for a moment. And then the ice begins cracking beneath her hooves.

"What th-?"

Fearing the ice may not be able to bear her weight, Pom starts moving away from the center... but the cracking persists, spreading rapidly. She breaks into a gallop. The icy surface groans as it splits further and further beneath her. Perfectly clear that she isn't going to make it, Pom has just enough time to think, At least the pups are safe...

The lake snaps like a dragon's jaws. Pom plunges into the frigid water below, feeling her blood turn to ice. She struggles but for a moment before passing out from shock, her last sense being the barking and howling of her dogs from the edge of the lake.

Pom awakens in a makeshift tent, covered in a pile of heated blankets and attended to by a bearded sprite. Recognizing she's awake it quickly leaves to grab even more blankets.

"You must be awake," a voice says from outside the tent. "It was extremely brave of you to risk yourself to save your companions."

"Are ye the one who saved me?" Pom asks.

"Only in part." A buck with huge antlers and many braids enters the tent, a blanket around himself as well. Big Papa pokes his head into the doorway before being told by the buck, "you won't fit in here Papa, she'll be out in a bit."

"Ye know Big Papa?"

The buck smiles. "We met once during a trade dispute with Baaah. It's hard to forget something like him, and he seems to remember me as well. We ran into each other today and were 'catching up' when he suddenly ran in your direction. He and I dived right in to save you. You're fortunate to have a companion like him; someone with as little floof as you could've died from the cold."

"You're—are ye the Jarl?" says Pom.

"Jarl Stronghoof Hoofstrong, pleased to meet you."

"I heard about ye from elder O'Donaghewe once."

"Is that old ram still kicking? He'll talk your ear off, what a character." Hoofstrong grins.

"Aye," Pom laughs.

Stronghoof sits. "So you must be looking for the Key? Can't think of a reason you'd come all the way out here if you aren't."

"I am. I was told I could find a clue on where tae look if I came here."

"You came to the right place, this is a city rich with historical knowledge. You could head straight to the museum at the north edge of town—"

"Oh, thank ye." Pom sighs with relief.

"—but I know my daughter is already planning to follow whatever trail can be found from there. If you want to follow a different lead, I know of one. A group of archeologists uncovered a petrified tree in the south of the city. They believe it could've been the site of an ancient ritual."

Pom ponders her options as she's smothered with more blankets from the sprite. After warming up enough she decides to head to the museum first. A crowd awkwardly stands outside it, and Pom wonders what transpired to attract them, since they don't seem interested in the museum itself.

"Get OUT!" a fluffy doe with blue antlers screams at Pom the moment one of the large museum doors creak open. A handful of sprites look her over head to hoof, doing their best to cheer her up and treat her wounds.

"Sorry, I'll just be—"

"GET OOOOOUUUUUUTTTTTTTT!" An overwhelming burst of cold wind emanates from within the museum, pushing Pom back and slamming the door in her face. Taken off-balance she trips and tumbles down the long flight of stairs in front of everyone. The dogs rush after her, Papa cushioning the blow before she hits the bottom.

"Good boy," says Pom.

Guess she'll look at the tree.

Chapter 4 — The Meadow?

Pom, dogs close behind, travels to the south of town. She receives quite a bit of attention from passersby; confused at first, she realizes it's not because of her, but rather her 'floofballs' as deerfolk have been calling it. Upon arriving there is indeed a petrified tree as she were told, along with two deer examining it closely.

"If we were to cut inside it we may be able to see—" one of them, a smaller buck in a full-brim hat and scarf, begins.

"If we were to cut this tree it could severely damage the engravings on it!" the other, a larger buck with the same hat and spectacles, shouts. "You're keenly aware of the anthropological significance of this. It needs to be preserved, as is."

"I'm sorry, but not going anywhere until we get our answers!" the first says.

"Then you can sit on your rump until it sticks to the ground. This is important, we cannot act rashly."

Pom watches them for a moment, trying to follow along with one of their conversations. It's cut short, however, when Ruff breaks rank and starts running around the tree. The deer aren't quick enough to stop him, and before Pom intervenes he's already torn off a branch of the rock-like bark.

"Oh heavens above!" the second deer exclaims, dramatically fainting on the spot.

"Bad dog!" Pom shouts, snatching Ruff away from the site. She holds him firmly in place, stroking his head while he whines pitifully. The pair of deer surrounds Pom, angrily shouting at her and the dog.

"Do you understand the damage you've just done?!" they shout in unison.

"I'm sorry, he's a rambunctious lad." says Pom.

"That tree was to be used in an upcoming exhibit!" the smaller one shouts. "You've destroyed valuable archaeology!"

"It cannae be that bad, can it?" you say, picking up the branch and trying, failing, to reaffix it to the tree. "Maybe a spot of glue? It's not that bad."

"These symbols, they're a message from the ancients! They tell us how they lived!" the larger one sobs. "How can we learn that if you destroy the tree?"

"Who are 'the ancients?'" Pom asks.

"Why are you even here if you don't know that?! The ancient people who lived here before! They're your ancestors, for goodness sake!"

"But I'm not a deer..."

The larger buck sighs. "You don't seem to get it. We believe these runes date back to the age of predators, when all hooved races lived as one. These ARE your ancestors, and ours."

"I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to cut it here. This was an important discovery! It proves everything we've been saying!"

"I dinnae understand. What have you been saying?"

"That the predators weren't a single race. That they're a collection of races united by way of predation! They had their own cultures, even! This is the first time we've seen a written record from before the great war that wasn't made by an ungulate."

"Wait, if a predator wrote this is it really 'our' ancestors?" Pom asks. The deer glare in response; Pom can't really think of a way to respond, so she stays silent and hope for them to calm down. She stares at the runes; while she's not good at writing in general this these don't even resemble any language she'd ever seen. The markings, faint as they are, seem jagged and stiff, as though they were carved directly with claws rather than a proper tool.

Eventually, the duo of archeologists start to murmur amongst themselves. "We'll have to get a new sample." one says. Pom rings her bell, bringing the dogs close, and begins to sneak away with them, but the bell also alerts the pair of researchers.

"Oh no, you aren't getting out of this!" the smaller of them shouts, freezing Pom in her tracks.

"No offense, but she's not trained and would probably destroy evidence." says the larger.

"I... guess it's only some dirt. Maybe my pups could help dig?" Pom chimes in, trying to seem enthusiastic. "I mean, it can't be that hard if you two were able tae do this, aye?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothin', sorry."

They whisper to each other for about a minute, and then present the ultimatum. The spectacled deer steps forward. "If you wish to avoid trouble with the law, there is a limit to how far we can travel within a nearby archeology site. An expedition was recently conducted in the outskirts of the prairie after the discovery of a burial ground, but there was some kind of blockage preventing them from digging further."

"A burial ground! Hold on, you can't just dig those up, can ye?"

"Well we... no, we can't, but what the cattle don't know can't hurt them. We believe it contains a number of valuable artifacts, which would be a tremendous boon for the museum."

Pom steps back. "Yer asking me tae grave rob!"

"After a few years it's grave robbing. After several millennia it's archeology!"

"I dinnae feel comfortable with this at all..." she says. One of her dogs growls.

"Look, if you're caught, just say that you were following orders from the government."

"It's not my government! I don't think we've ever even voted on what to do about graverobbers!" she shouts, unaware of the legendary twelve-hour, graverobbing-themed filibuster that graced Baaah decades prior.

"Maybe you should just do it." Embracing the impromptu bad cop role the deer with glasses adds, "Unless you want to end up in a cell."

Pom think back to her previous cell visit. She could use another snack...

"Besides, those floofy things would love it!" Leaning down at the four pups the scarfed deer making a digging motion with his hooves. "How's that boys? Wanna dig? Wanna dig?" At mention of the word dig Tuft goes into a frenzy, tearing up the ground in front of him.

"No! Bad puppy!" Pom scolds.

"We'll tell the guards about this yard damage too. This is private property. Might get you for trespassing, even." the other adds.

"I... fine, I'll do it." Pom gathers the pack, defeated.

"Be sure to meet with us with your findings when you get back. Don't want you taking all the credit, we gave you the coordinates!"

Pom leaves without comment.

The only way out of Reine, besides the ports, is to pass through a large gate at the south border of town. A guard and sprite pass nervous glances of each other as they let Pom through, dogs in tow. They seem to look relieved?

After a day in the city the prairie feels silent. Mama walks ahead of the pack, but there's nary a creature. As the temperature rises grass begins to grow once again, satisfying Pom's stomach, but grass and cacti seem to be the only signs of life. She knew the cattle don't stay in one place often, but she expected to see something. The upside to this is the supposed burial site is just as deserted, so nobody needs to see her defile a grave. She's far enough away from those archeologists that she probably wouldn't see them again, is there any reason to actually do this?

Pom stand around, looking at the site while trying to process this. There are a few signs of previous attempts to dig the place up, even some tools left aside, but the actual ground looks untouched; it's not as though something was buried and dug up, but rather like nobody ever tried, despite being ready for it. These really aren't good people, they didn't even put the tools away neatly, as though they just dropped them where they were at and left.

"Och, I'm too sheepish, why does it feel so hard tae not do this?" Pom mumbles out loud.

She's paralyzed in thought for so long that she fails to stop Tuft from already digging. Sniffing around he quickly found one spot that caught his interest, and before Pom was aware of it he's so far beneath the surface that he can't be seen.

"Tuft! Bad! I already told you once not tae dig!" Pom shouts, following after him, running up to the hole—

Tuft is gone. There's no trace of him even, nothing but a deep, black hole.

Gasping, Pom immediately looks around the site for a rope or something that might be able to reach whatever is down there. Thankfully the archeologists were kind enough to leave some behind. Pom clears some space, instructing each of the dogs to hold onto the rope. The runt Woof holds on right behind Pom, Ruff and Puff behind him, followed by Big Mama, Big Papa at the back. Standing right at the hole Pom begins lowering the rope, shouting "Tuft, lad! When ye see the rope, bite down and hold on! We'll get ye out!"

Dangling her forehooves over the edge she cranes down to try and see ANYTHING below her, but the angle of the setting sun doesn't breach the hole. "Dinnae worry Tuft it'll be fine, it'll be—"

Things are not fine, Pom realizes as the ground crumbles beneath her hooves. She grabs onto the rope with her mouth, but with her added weight on the rope the pups start sliding toward the hole with her. First Woof falls, then Puff, then Ruff; Big Mama is at first able to hold on near the edge, but her mass is just too much for the crumbling ground and the entire area gives way, taking her and Papa. The six of them plummet down the hole, spiraling into the darkness.

It takes time for Pom's eyes to adjust to the darkness of the cave. The now-much-larger hole offers enough light that it's no longer pitch-black, but she still can hardly see anything between the shift in brightness and her disorientation. She's not really sure how she got so lucky; save for a few bruises she really wasn't harmed at all, all due to her light frame. The whole pack of dogs also seems fine, Tuft included. Pom is unsure how they'll get out, but at least they're all safe.

As the light levels become normal, though, Pom sees the red glint of a predator's glare.
And then a second.
And then a third.
And more still.

Not wasting time counting the eyes, Pom brainlessly runs straight forward into the blackness of the cavern, thinking of nothing but to escape the predators in her vicinity. She quickly realizes the mistake when, unable to see anything at all, she slams straight into a wall. She doesn't stop there though.

The cave system twists and turns and it's impossible to know where it might end up. Pom bumps into walls and trips on the uneven terrain over and over. Pom keeps running, though, never stopping. She eventually collapses as the burst of adrenaline fades, letting out a dying whine; she's grateful when she feels Big Mama come to her aid, helping her up. A moment later, the rest of the dogs appear by her side, all of them having evaded the predators.

Pom lets out a sigh of relief—that is until she starts hearing additional barks from behind and realizes that the wolves haven't stopped or even slowed their pursuit.

Pom hasn't the faintest idea where she is or where she's going in the darkness of the cave, or if there's even a place to go that isn't a dead end or back the way she came. Fortunately for Pom, her canines have their sense of smell to rely on, and they seem to be leading her somewhere specific.

Puff acts as a guide dog as they pack weaves through the tunnels in a confusing pattern. Every now and then Pom hears the barks of the wolves down one of the passages the dogs don't go down but they always fade away, none of them able to catch up.

After ten minutes of running, Big Mama suddenly stops dead in her tracks. Pom runs straight into her, ending her blind scramble for the moment.

"Mama?" whimpers Pom, receiving a low growl in response. Immediately after, Papa gets close to Pom, growling as well. Big Papa hasn't once wavered when it came to protecting the Sheeple and intimidating any enemy, but even he seems terrified of whatever it is that he's smelled. It can't just be a predator or two ahead. It has to be something much more.

They all pause for a few moments. Maybe the elder dogs spend this time debating whether to turn around and fight the predators, or meet whatever waits at the end of this path. Pom can't see whatever body language they exhibit during this, but ultimately they choose to face it. Mama gently nudges her forward, staying right next to her as Papa takes point. A short distance later Pom can sees the faintest glow of a light source, bringing a tiny spark of hope.

But, rather than an exit, she finds herself stepping out into a massive underground meadow.

The ceiling opens up to a point far above, and stalactites hang down like icicles, possessing some kind of bioluminescent plant making it glow. A field of tall grass sways in an impossible wind, and all around luminescent flowers bloom vibrant with all colors of the rainbow. A sparkling brook flows calmly through the scene, and though it looks shallow enough to walk through there's even a stone bridge to cross it. It's truly a sight to behold, a slice of home in a completely unexpected place.

Pom steps forward, wanting to take in the sights and smells of this surreal place, but is stopped by a loud whine from Mama. Pom turns to the dog who begins whimpering, licking Pom's face and placing a paw on her back pulling her close. Try as she might Pom can't see any danger, but all of the dogs look fearful and on edge. None of them want her to cross.

"What's wrong, lass? It's so beautiful, aren't we safe?" says Pom. Though they were pursued by the predators all throughout the caves, there haven't been any noises come from the tunnel they exited.

Papa warns the other dogs with a bark and then walks forward alone, raising his head to sniff the air as he approaches the bridge. He stops halfway and begins barking, hackles raised, a steady trickle of drool descending from his mouth.

"What's wrong boy? Are you okay? What's there?" Pom is about to go to him, despite his warnings, when she sees a red light growing in the tunnel she came from. It doesn't resemble anything the predators they've ran into can do; someone else has been following them, and they must have been smart enough to bring torches. It probably isn't one of the archeologists, they never would've gotten past the horde.
Actually, those tools... whoever was here before definitely did not get past the horde.

"Mama, watch the entrance. Pups tae me." instructs Pom. Whether they stay here or enter the meadow, something is about to happen.

The pups gather close as everyone waits for the light to approach. Papa stands, hackles raised, teeth bared, ready to fight to the death. Mama's fur bristles as she stands in wait for the stranger.

Pom is surprisingly not so interested in the incoming visitor, though. When she looks toward the bridge her heart pounds in her chest. Something draws her toward the meadow... but something unknown keeps her back.

Pom takes a few steps forward; Papa turns to her barking angrily, demanding she stay put. Though she steps no further, she strains her neck trying to see if there's anything visible causing him to act like this.

Suddenly Mama growls, snapping Pom's attention away from the meadow. The source of the red light is here, and it is not a torch.

"You would be wise to listen to your companions, little one. They know exactly what lies here."

Fire. It is a creature of fire, emanating from its body, the harsh orange-red lights overpowering the soft glow of the plant life and transforming the atmosphere of the calm meadow into something foreboding, as if an actual wildfire is spreading across it. The creature steps past Mama, who remains alert but allows it to happen, and trots directly toward Pom. She's frozen in fear as it approaches, trying to understand what she's seeing; she has the time to notice it has hooves and not the clawed feet of predators, and its general gait is similar to her own. The embers dropping from its back and fiery tail lick the plant life as the creature walks, singing the flowers. Though hard to tell the color in this bizarre lighting circumstance, its hide is made of green scales, a lighter color trailing from its lower jaw to its underbelly and a darker color making up the rest.

It stops in front of Pom, the heat from its body washing over her, especially that of the fiery mane atop its head. Beneath the mane two ruby eyes stare at her. They're bisected by elongated pupils, but not the horizontal pupils of a goat; they're a vertical slit, eyes made to focus on one particular thing. In this case, Pom.

They're the eyes of a predator.

It's as if a predator tried taking the shape of an ungulate as a sick joke.

It opens its mouth, speaking with a feminine voice. "I had heard the sounds of another in this cave, but I must admit I'm surprised to see a lamb, particularly one so small. Your kind live in a meadow, do they not? This place may actually look inviting if that's the case, but do not be fooled by appearances. The greatest evil is present with you right now."

Saying nothing Pom takes a step back, placing a hoof on the bridge.

"No, stop." the scaled creature instructs sternly, taking a step forward. "You must not proceed."

Pom takes a few more steps back, desperate to gain distance from the heat, to claim a moment's reprieve from those eyes.

"Stop!" the creature demands. The flames from her back spread wildly, commanding Papa's attention away from whatever may be in the meadow. Her hooves kick off the ground as she takes flight. Seeing it in the air, there's only one thing Pom can consider this creature: it is a dragon.

Panic takes full hold of Pom at the sight. She runs past the bridge headlong into the meadow, no thought but to escape this monster. She runs and runs as fast as her legs will carry her as the sound of flapping wings draws nearer and nearer, a crescendo that peaks with the force of a battering ram striking her back. Pom is knocked to the ground as the reptile's leg makes contact, tumbling uncontrollably.

When Pom comes to a stop the dragon hovers in the air, pacing around her in circles before landing atop her. Pom is turned onto her back by the dragon, and with her four hooves pins all of Pom's legs to the ground, preventing any further escape. "You seem to be a poor listener, but whatever your reason for running is I will ask one last time for you to retreat from this meadow. Confused you may be, but all you need to know is if you move any further you will quickly regret what happens."

The heat from this creature's body is too much to bear, its wings splayed wide and the rest of its flames crackling with greater intensity than before. Pom squirms desperate to get away from her, but the dragon only increases the pressure placed on Pom's legs. She leans down to the point that their chests touch, and says into Pom's ear, "I'm being nice here by asking you to stop. I'd love to fight you but, given the circumstances, if you continue to resist I'll just take you out here." Her breath is as hot as her body, smelling of sulfur.

A painful sweat breaks out on Pom's forehead as she lies there paralyzed. Visions of her life flash before her eyes. This is how her life ends.
With all the remaining air in her lungs, Pom lets out a scream.

Taken aback by this, as if Pom had just discovered her weakness, the dragon's expression changes. "Wait, do not do that, screaming is possibly the worst—ARGH!" the dragon shouts before stumbling off Pom. Woof, Pom's brave little pup, rushed forward to save her at the sound of her scream. He flies backward with a kick from the dragon, and the other dogs come to his aid.

"Insolence!" the dragon shouts at the pup. "You should know better, surely you can sense what lies ahead—"

The dragon stops as she finds herself snout-to-snout with Big Papa. She stares up at him, and begins to open her mouth again. A moment later she is hurled into the background with the force of Papa's bark.

Papa and Mama both come to Pom whining, possibly feeling guilty over letting that last so long. Ruff and Puff help her up, and Woof runs to her wagging his tail.

"Oh pups, I'm sorry I'm so weak." laments Pom, still recovering from the shock of this brief encounter. "Yer the best friends a lamb could have."

Pom looks around the meadow, now in more detail since she's past the bridge, trying to see what exactly caused the dogs to be so fearful in the first place. Even with the better view she can't see anything strange... until her eyes notice an ornate door.

Tail between her legs Pom sheepishly walks toward it, her dogs forming a protective circle. They've given up on hiding the danger from Pom and are focused just on keeping her safe if, or when, it comes. Pom reaches out to touch the door, but her hoof goes straight through the center of it, as if it isn't even there. She pulls it back slowly, noticing that the edges of the door have no texture, instead blending into the rest of the meadow like one of the mirages she was told can appear on hot days. It is getting a bit hot right now...

"Is this...?" Pom asks, and the dogs nod in unison. Whatever this is, it's what they were afraid of. Pom looks at it more closely, trying to see if it has any kind of handle or knob, though she can't find anything remotely looking like one. There are strange runes written on the door, an indecipherable language, though it looks similar to whatever was written on the petrified tree. Pom squints, her face inches away from the door—
—and then the dragon's face phases through the other side, bumping noses with her. The two of them lock eyes; it is easy to tell, despite the differences in physiology making expression reading difficult, that the dragon is furious beyond belief.

On reaction Pom screams, running backward, stopped when the dragon flies through the door tackling her and lifting her into the air. "Stop screaming!" the dragon loudly shouts, flying over the brook. "Stop making such loud noises, why won't you listen to a word I say?" The dogs loudly bark as they chase after her, following the even louder sound of Pom's wailing.

Pom is slammed against the wall of the cave, pinned by her assailant's forehooves as she hovers in place. "Listen to me at once, sheep. You must understand that I am doing what is best for you. Firstly stop screaming, secondly stop running, and thirdly do not interact with that door! I do not care if it is grim, if I have to silence you myself I will!"
Pom screams for her dogs.

Gritting her teeth, the dragon lifts one leg from Pom and prepares to strike, holding it in place as if hesitating. The blow fails to come, however, as Puff leaps into the air and makes full body contact with the dragon, knocking her—and Pom—out of the air. Not a moment wasted, Big Mama grabs the dragon by the neck as she hits the ground, jerking her around before slamming her against the floor, Mama's jaw locked.

The dragon lets out a fierce battle-cry as she dashes into the sky, forcing Mama on her hind legs as she struggles to hold on. Puff reaches the sky again as he tries to grab her by the tail, only to come away with a burnt tongue; the tail is nothing more than a flame like her wings, no skin or bones to grip. Mama pulls as hard as she can, Papa on standby to grab the dragon's other end when she's brought low enough. He doesn't get the chance, however.

"I've had enough!" the dragon shouts. "I can and shall defeat you all if that's what it takes!"
Pom had not yet fully recovered and was still struggling to find her footing when the entirety of the cave became drenched with a hellish orange light. Mama was pushed away as it happened, losing her grip. A circle of flame surrounded the dragon as she screamed the name of her attack and the battle changed.
"RAN SHAO FENG!"

Papa is the first to be hit by this new attack. A shrill whistle pierces the air, followed by the pop of a firecracker. Big Papa hits the ground, and the dragon turns her attention to Mama. Another whistle sounds, this time Pom able to see the dragon set her hoof ablaze as the blow connects. Mama backs away in pain, dropping to the floor to smother the fire.

The dragon raises her head and a fountain of flame spews from her mouth. The larger dogs down, Pom's four pups all rush to her defense, the last line of protection. The dragon, not even concerned by the dogs' formation, stares Pom down.

"Why do you make me do this?" she shouts. "Why don't you listen?" Pom shakes in terror, her hearing not yet fully recovered from the loud pops of the dragon's firecracker attacks. "Are you going to apologize? Shall you beg? Whatever your action I tire of trying to reason with you. You have five seconds."
Pom sits in silence. She pulls Woof from the defense line, holding him close and trying to keep him behind her.

"Fine then," the dragon says. "If you will not communicate, my only course is to drag your limp body out of this cave. Do not think I didn't try to do things peacefully."

Despite Pom's intentions Woof steps ahead in defiance, barking loudly in an attempt to scare the dragon off.

"I told you it's dangerous to make such loud noises!" the dragon says, before hitting the puppy with a calculated strike to the chest. There's a slight whimper, and Woof collapses.

The dragon turns to Pom. "He will be fine, no matter how it seems. I hate being forced to attack something so incapable of defending itself, whether that be him or you, lamb. Let it be known this was not my doing. Now it's time to... why are you looking at me like that?"

Pom's vision grays out. Her mind recedes, and her body acts on its own. Even in the dragon's empowered state she is immediately put on the backfoot, utilizing all her training, skill and focus just to evade or block Pom's blows. The dragon is pushed past the bridge, past the door, past the edge of the meadow.

Pom regains full consciousness right as the dragon collides into a jagged wall at the dead end of a tunnel opposite to where they had both entered. The dragon hits the wall with such force that the cave rumbles and groans. It takes a moment for Pom to register it was her hooves holding the dragon against the wall and not the other way around; her body aches from the exercise, having spent energy she didn't even know she had, and she lets go, allowing the dragon to slink onto the ground, Pom meeting her there a moment later. Pom looks around, trying to catch sight of her dogs, but the light of the meadow is long gone. The dim glow of the dragon's flames are the only solace from the crushing blackness of the cave.

Pom looks back at the dragon, wondering if she'll be okay. This is answered, to Pom's horror, when the dragon opens her eyes, wide awake and largely unfazed despite Pom's blind frenzy. Upon seeing Pom she immediately gets to her hooves, lifting Pom up and getting in her face. "You—how did you—what did you—?"

The dragon's questionaire is cut off as a large rock falls where her head was, narrowly missing her due to her reflexes. She grabs Pom and flips into the air as the ceiling gives way to a full collapse. Pom is slammed into the ground and, exhausted past the point of no return, passes out.

Pom awakens in pitch-black darkness to the barks and howls of her dogs. She rushes toward the direction of the howling, feeling pain in her legs as she moves, and feeling more pain as she runs into a wall several feet from the source of the sound. Shaking her head, Pom desperately feels around, finding she's been entirely enclosed by the cave collapse. Pom cries out for the pups, and they cry back, but it's no use.

"Oh. Ohhhh... so this is how it ends." Pom says, voice cracking. "I'm gonna die here... all alone..."

"That last part is not true, little one."

The enclosure is illuminated in an orange blaze. Eyes wide Pom turns to meet the voice.

Calmly sitting in the center of the room is the dragon.

Chapter 5 — Alone

Pom backs into the wall, frantically feeling around the rubble for any kind of opening she could squeeze through. There's nothing. No escape.

The dragon looks on as Pom scrambles, silently waiting for her to calm down. Upon realizing she's well and truly trapped with her, however, Pom begins to let out a scream. The dragon barely allows it to escape her lips, though.

A trail of fire marks the path taken by the dragon as she dashes toward Pom, the flames on her body roaring as she kicks off the ground. She stuffs her hoof in Pom's mouth and, in a hushed whisper, says "How many times must I tell you not to scream?! I cannot speak for you, lamb, but I'd like to survive at least the next few hours before starvation kicks in." Pom squirms desperate to escape her, but without missing a beat the dragon places her other hoof on the small of Pom's back, leveraging both of them onto their hind legs.

"If. You Scream. It will. Attract. The predators." hisses the dragon.

Pom squirms harder, trying to say something but unable to produce more than a muffled cry.

"I will let you speak but you must not scream." the dragon says, moving her hoof from Pom's mouth to her shoulder.

"Hot, it's hoooooot!" squeals Pom.

"What's hot? I don't—oh. Of course." the dragon says, before inhaling slowly and reducing her flames to embers. "I had forgotten my training and the temperatures outsiders can handle before feeling uncomfortable. Is this better, lamb?"

Not answering, Pom continues trying to escape, making weak, unintelligible noises of panic. The dragon maintains her grasp and gripes, "It can't be that hot, lamb. Right now you could touch my flames and not be burnt." Seeing Pom continue her panicked behavior, though, the dragon sighs and lets go of her, who bumps into the same wall and hugs it as tightly as possible.

"Are you going to cry now?" exclaims the dragon. "Quit acting like a baby, I did not even hit you that time. If something is wrong, tell me."

"..." Pom refuses to even look in the direction of the dragon, shutting her eyes and thinking of home, wishing she had never gone on this journey.

"Come, speak to me." the dragon says, stepping closer; Pom looks back upon the sound of the dragon's step, and starts audibly crying at thought. The dragon groans, retreating to where she was. "Even when we did fight I didn't hit you that hard. You have no reason to act so afraid of me; I am your greatest ally and the best protection you could possibly have. What is wrong, lamb?"

"..."

"Fine, I shall wait until you have calmed down." she says, sitting on her haunches, staring at Pom. Patiently. With those predator's eyes.

Minutes pass.

"Are you ready to speak now?"

"..."

More minutes pass.

"Lamb, why are you so insistent on silence? Do you believe I can steal your voice?"

"..."

"Come, don't ignore me."

Even more minutes pass.

"There is unnaturally potent fear behind those eyes, it is unhealthy for you to hold it in. Why won't you let me help you by telling me what's wrong?"

"..."

The dragon has grown restless, pacing around the room, nearly stalking, before she finally snaps. "You are the most incorrigible person I've ever met. Do you know that? If you had listened to me in the first place, lamb, we would not be trapped here, but now that we are you won't even entertain me with a dialogue. What did I do to you besides protect you and save your life?!"

Pom sits there in continued silence, watching the dragon. By this point her panic-induced shaking has reduced to a light shiver and a lump of anxiety in her throat, and her body has relaxed enough for her to lie flat. She has accepted the situation, or at least has come to terms with the way she's going to die. Despite this, Pom still winces as the dragon suddenly approaches by several feet.

"At least, at least tell me your name. So I can stop calling you 'lamb.'" the dragon haggles, hooves at her temples. "Give me that much, I am going to go insane soon."

Pom looks to the floor, then up at the dragon, then back to the floor. For a moment she opens her mouth, but thinks better of it and closes it.

"Come on. It's several sentences at most. ...I will go first, should that help you."

Straightening up, the dragon approaches even more, to Pom's barely audible dismay, before she bows two yards away. "I am Tianhuo, Captain of the Royal Guard of Her Royal Highness the Longestma's Huoshan Empire."

Pom does her best to swallow the lump in her throat. Without looking up she meekly utters her excuse for an introduction.

"Pom."

"Pom what?" Tianhuo asks.

"Pom."

"Your name is Pom Pom?"

"Just... Pom." she says, placing your head to the ground.

"You only go by Pom? You do not have a title?"

"No..."

Exasperated Tianhuo exclaims, "Why was it so hard to utter that one syllable, Pom? You've wasted my time and yours." Pom lets out a high-pitched whimper at the berating. Tianhuo rolls her eyes. "Stop crying already. I have not harmed you at all since we awoke. Even now my presence is benevolent, allowing you to see in the darkness. Do you act this way toward all strangers, Pom?"

"P-Please stop yelling at me..."

"I have not yelled at you once. Are all sheep so sensitive and weak that raising one's voice is all it takes to turn them into a puddle of tears and self-pity?"

"Please..."

"I'm not yelling at you!" Tianhuo yells. Pom buries her head beneath her hooves, wishing this would all go away. Tianhuo lays flat on the ground across from her, legs splayed, and lets out a sigh of annoyance.

"Pom?"

Pom peeks at Tianhuo for a moment, then re-bury her head.

"Pom, please look at me." Tianhuo's voice is low and calm, matching the embers produced by her body. Slowly and reluctantly, Pom looks up toward the dragon.

"I promise I will not yell at you any longer. It was not yelling in my eyes, but I recognize your sensitivity, and I will try to keep my voice calm. But you have to stop crying."

Freezing for a moment, Pom nods, trying her best to maintain eye contact.

"Alright, Pom.

"Why are you so afraid?"

Pom breaks eye contact, shuddering under her breath.
"Is it because we fought? If I were to apologize, would you be okay?... I can tell by your body language it's more than that. I want to understand you, Pom. If I am to save Foenum, I must know how to interact with the people I am saving. You're the first person I've saved, so I must start with you."

"You're... terrifying."

"Am I? Tell me more. I'm aware I may be exotic."

"Y... yer one of them."

"Tell me more. Have you had a bad experience with a longma?"

"You're a, a p-p-..." Pom stops, too afraid to say it directly.

"I have to know what you mean to say, Pom. Please, I'm what? A pr—" Tianhuo stops. Her eyes widen and her flames flair a bit. "Pom, no, I am not a predator! You insult me with the comparison!"

Pom shrinks, whimpering "you said ye wouldn't yell."

"Do not deflect from what you just accused of me! I saved you when I could have escaped! I didn't need to stop you from riling up the Hold! You thankless, thoughtless coward, how dare you!" Tianhuo stands over, teeth clenched, waves of heat washing over Pom as her mane becomes a wildfire. Pom closes her eyes, preparing to be hit.

Instead of any blow, however, Pom feels the heat recede, and opens her eyes to see Tianhuo walking away and pacing angrily. After a few laps she stomps the ground once, and then begins breathing deeply. Tianhuo takes a stance, slowly breathing in and out, and calms herself. Her flames subside, and she looks at Pom, still visibly upset but containing it well.

"Under Honored Mother's name I promise you I am not a predator. That you really see me... Pom, look at me. I am not a predator."

The tension could be cut with a knife as they stare at each other. The longma remains in her stance, watching Pom intently; nothing further is said from her, but it's clear she expects a response.

It takes time for Pom to gather the nerve to say it.

"You have their eyes."

Pom hears a restrained gasp. For the first time yet Tianhuo is the one to break eye contact. She falls quiet, before opening her eyes and looking to the floor: Pom is able to read genuine hurt in them.

"I, like all longma, inherited the eyes of Honored Mother. Until this moment it was, like the rest of the temple that is my body, a source of pride. I had never imagined someone could use them to attack me like this."

"I'm sorry..."

There is a pause.

"Who's Honored Mother?"

Tianhuo tilts her head, a flash of intrigue breaching her expression. "You do not know?" Pom shakes her head.

The longma smiles a bit. "Then I shall tell you."

The cavern is still, no sounds audible besides the light crackling of Tianhuo's fire and what seems to be some kind of scraping from outside the cave-in. Suddenly, everything goes dark. Pom jumps up, startled and unsure if Tianhuo is alright. Moments later, the longma re-ignites, now standing an inch from her face. Pom backs away but she touches Pom's hoof with her own and says, "do not be afraid. You will not be burned. Sit, child, as I tell you of my people."

After a moment of hesitation Pom lies, and Tianhuo follows suit. She crosses her legs over Pom's own, before asking "am I correct in thinking my flames are calm enough? Speak up if it is still too much for you."

"It's fine," Pom says. She can still easily feel the heat, and her instinct tells her to back away from it, but it's enough for Pom to bear and she does. Tianhuo inhales, and then begins.

"Many suns ago, when predators and prey inhabited the same lands, the great volcano was home to two siblings. Mighty dragons they were, and they laid claim to all they could see. The volcano and the surrounding islands were their playground, and their hunger so insatiable that none dared approach.
"That is until one day, when a lone traveler crossed the sea. A stallion he was, humble but brave, determined to find new lands past the edge of the map. He held no stock in 'Here There Be Dragons,' the fool he was.
"It was the sister dragon who first caught eye of the stallion and his vessel. The force of her wings parted the seas as she snatched his boat in her grasp, plucking him out and crushing it in her grip."

Tianhuo raises her voice by an octave to portray the dragon, speaking with a booming tone and raising her head high. It reminds Pom of the way the town elder would pass folk tales onto her and the other children of Baaah, speaking with an exaggerated swagger to make the characters larger than life and amuse the kids. Here it seems to be done entirely seriously, though. "'You have entered my divine presence, and have sealed your fate. Would you like to be engulfed in flame, or would you prefer to be eaten?' says the dragon."

To portray the stallion, Tianhuo drops her voice and delivers her lines with a poshness one might expect from Reine. "'Truthfully, I would like neither.' says the stallion.
"'Would you like to be crushed within my claws, then? Or thrown out to sea where you shall drown?' says the dragon.
"'I again would not like either of those.' says the stallion.
"'If you would prefer, then, I could drop you into the volcano, as a sacrifice to myself.' says the dragon.
"'I would prefer that not to happen,' says the stallion."

Pom interrupts. "Um, I know this is an important fairy tale for your people, but it seems a bit—"

"It's not a fairy tale, lamb. This history has been passed down from generation to generation since the events first transpired. Every word is true, every longma knows it word-for-word, and it must be told accurately to preserve the story for those who come after us."

"Sorry..." Pom sighs, expecting this to last a long time.

Tianhuo continues.

"'You are very picky for someone who is my prey.' says the dragon. 'If none of these are okay, how would you wish to die?'
"'I would like to live.' says the stallion.
"The dragon is taken aback by the stallion's boldness, and grins. 'You wish to live, but I have already destroyed your ship. Where would you live if you cannot return home?' says the dragon.
"'There are islands over there. I could live on one of those, if it is alright with you.' says the stallion.
"'There are no animals on that island, fool. You would starve to death. Is that how you wish to die?' says the dragon.
"'Am I permitted to stay on the island if I survive?' says the stallion.
"'Hmm... very well. I shall watch you closely, however, and if you try to escape I shall destroy you. Stay on the island if you like, but if I see any sort of ship... well, you know what I will do.' says the dragon.
"The stallion nods. 'Perfect. Do we have a deal?'
"The dragon stares at the stallion for quite some time, before nodding her head in approval. She takes him to the nearest island and flies away, expecting to next see him starving and begging for mercy.
"The dragon sleeps, and the next day returns to the island. To her amazement, the stallion is happy and full, surrounded by plants.
"'How are you still alive?' the dragon roars.
"'I planted these crops I found on the island. They will feed me, and then I will replant the seeds to grow more.' says the stallion."

Pom interrupts a second time. "Sorry, sorry, but are ye sure this isn't a folk tale instead of real history? I don't know any plants that grow that fast, and if he was using salt water tae—"

Tianhuo snaps at the lamb. "It is not a folk tale, it's what actually happened! The stallion was just that good! Stop interrupting, the best part is coming."

"Sorry..."

"'Very clever! But a storm is coming, and you lack the hide to weather it.' says the dragon, flying away.
"That night, the area is ravaged by harsh winds and rain. The dragon returns the next day, laughing all the way, only to find the stallion happy and well-rested.
"'You look at though the storm never happened! What is your trick this time?' the dragon roars.
"'I built a shelter to prepare for the storm. If you had not told me, I would not have finished it in time. Thank you for your hospitality.' says the stallion.
"'You have a great many tricks! But soon you will realize your true downfall, and I will be victorious.' says the dragon, flying away.
"The dragon does not return the next day. She does not return the day after that, or the day after that, or the day after that.
"But she does return the day after that. The stallion is sad, but becomes happy once more upon seeing the dragon.
"'Well? Have you learned why you cannot survive on this island?' says the dragon.
"'I have.' says the stallion.
"'And what is that?' says the dragon.
"'I am alone here.' says the stallion.
The dragon cackles, grinning with glee. "'Then have you now changed your mind? Is this not where you want to die?'
"'You are right. I would like to live... on the volcano, with you.' says the stallion.
"'WHAT?' roars the dragon."

As she shouts that last line Tianhuo's mane and wings flare, causing Pom to recoil.

Clearing her throat, Tianhuo interrupts herself. "I apologize Pom, that is part of the oral tradition. This is normally told from one longma to another, so the sudden heat is not an issue for us. The story is best told with these dramatic flares but I will, for your courtesy, leave the flaring out of the rest of the story."

"Ye could'a warned me first at least," whines Pom.

"'I can bring the seeds to the volcano, and build a new house, and live just like here. But I will also have you to keep me company.' says the stallion.
"The dragon realizes how boring her life had been until the stallion arrived. A being much lesser than her, but possessing knowledge, bravery and tenacity unmatched!
"The dragon accepts, and flies away, with the stallion. The plants bloom in the volcanic soil, and a new house is built, and the two talk every day. Not all is well, though."

Bringing her voice as low as she can, Tianhuo bellows the next line." 'He is not fit to live on our volcano! He is prey, we are predator!' the brother dragon roars.
"'He has proven his courage and value to me, and shall stay with me for as long as he wants.' says the sister dragon.
"The brother dragon flies away in a fit of rage. The sister dragon and stallion continue to grow close to each other until, one day, they realize they have both fallen in love.
"They confess to each other, and soon after the first longma is born. Possesing the strength and will of our Honored Mother, as well as the good nature and lifestyle of our Honored Father, we are the greatest of both predator and prey. You must live up to your heritage now, and serve the Empress to make Huoshan the greatest Empire in Foenum."

Tianhuo bows, finally finished.

"That last line wasn't for me, right?" Pom asks.

"It was not. I forgot to leave it out."

"So longma are half-dragon and half-horse... which means you ARE a predator..."

"I am not." Tianhuo insists, clearly annoyed. Pom wants to rise and avoid the but Tianhuo taps her hoof to stop her. The two continue to sit with their forelegs crossed, the longma intent not to let Pom slip away to the corner just yet.

"But... I mean, you are. Ye just came out and said so. It was in the tale."

"Stop insulting my people's history by comparing it to fairy tales. And we are only half-predator, as I said."

"Right, I mean, right, but, uh... which half?"

Tianhuo cocks her head. "I don't understand the question."

"I mean, what parts of the predator? Ye don't... eat people, right?"

"You must be trying to offend me at this point. Of course we do not! Did you miss the part where the stallion grew the crops? We are herbivores, and those crops are so rich in nutrients that it can entirely supply our diet, and largely does."

"Oh. Okay..." There is a pause before Pom whispers, "Can ye eat people? If ye were starving, and there's not anything else tae eat—"

"I am not going to eat you, nor should I. Our stomachs have long ago ceased to properly digest meat."

"I'll take yer word." says Pom.

"It is about time you've listened to me."

"So what about the other dragon?"

"The brother? We... it is considered bad luck to discuss the brother. And this would be the worst place in Foenum to push that luck."

"Why not cut it outta the story then? He didn't really do anything."

"He is important. Very much so."

"Why?"

"Did you not just hear me?" Tianhuo glares.

"Sorry, I just wanna know."

Tianhuo thinks for a moment, before leaning in and whispering. "You have likely heard of him. He became... The Devourer. And he is with us."

Lowering her own voice Pom asks, "whaddya mean?"

Tianhuo winces before asking "You actually do not know where we are, do you? What that door was?"

Pom shakes her head.

"No wonder you tempted faith so brazenly. Do not scream, Pom."

"Huh?"

"Do not scream. Promise me you shall not scream after I tell you this."

"O-Okay?"

Tianhuo's eyes narrow. As if it were a guttural expletive, she says with disgust, "We are at the point of banishment. The land where the predators were banished was ripped from its roots and buried beneath the earth itself, so none may stumble upon it.
"We are at the doorway to the Hold."

"T-T-The..."

Before Pom has the opportunity to do anything Tianhuo presses her hooves down on Pom's. "Do not scream. It is a miracle they were not riled up by your previous actions. The seal is breaking and the doorway is beginning to reform. Predators have already slipped through it. If you give them more incentive to, they will redouble their efforts to get out."

Pom holds her breath, shaking. Tiny sounds leak from her throat but, perhaps only due to the counterbalancing fear of what Tianhuo may do to stop an outburst, Pom refrains from both screaming and flailing about in panic. Tianhuo nods approvingly, and then orders: "Now exhale. Slowly."

Pom lets out a single uneven breath. Shaking her head, Tianhuo touches a hoof to Pom chin, bringing them back to eye-level.

"Slowly inhale. Do as I do." Tianhuo takes a steady, very deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity over ten seconds. Pom follows along best she can.

"Hold."

More than five seconds pass, and Pom begins to struggle with it.

"Now slowly, exhale."

Relief washes over Pom as she lets it out.

Tianhuo repeats this with Pom for several minutes. At the end of it Pom feels... okay. Like a dampener was placed in her mind to keep her body from panicking.

"You look surprised, Pom; if this is your first encounter with breathing exercises it's no wonder you're so anxious. You would do well to learn meditation some day."

The sheep and longma sit in silence. It's not quite the good kind of silence, that of two friends enjoying each other's company, but still a far cry from earlier where Pom was too terrified to speak or even look at Tianhuo. Occasionally the silence is broken by the barking of one of the pups on the other side of the cave-in, but otherwise things are entirely calm.

Eventually Pom develops a bit of curiosity.

"Say, um, would it be..." She's not quite sure how to phrase it without it sounding weird.

"It is alright, Pom, whatever it is."

"Oh, um, 'kay, thanks." Pom says, and with some trepidation puts her hoof directly against the embers coming from Tianhuo's neck. The rest of her body tenses up, but it's ultimately just somewhat warm and completely bearable, even as the flames lick her. Pom holds it in place; Tianhuo looks on with bewilderment, before becoming aware of how she looks and trying to resume a neutral look. Pom thinks she saw a hint of amusement as the expression changed, but only for a moment.

"Does it hurt?" asks Pom.

"Does what hurt? You're the one touching the flame, I should be asking you."

"Uh, it actually doesn't." Pom wafts her leg back and forth a little bit, still grappling with the sensation a bit.

"We are trained to control our flames at will nearly from birth. If I couldn't make it palatable—even for one as soft as you—I would have never rose to the position of Captain."
"What I meant tae ask was, does the fire hurt you? When ye make it really hot."

"What a silly question, it is a part of us."

"Huh."

There's an awful rumble above the ceiling. Pom covers her head with a panicked "eep!" but nothing falls, the rumbling fading after a few seconds.

"What do ye think that was?" Pom gets the nerve to ask when things seem calm.

"It may be the predators moving about, trying to find us." says Tianhuo. "When we escape from here, you should expect a fight."

"H... How are we gonna get out of this? I fell down a hole. How'd ye get in?"

"I flew down the hole that had appeared."

"Oh..." Pom looks down with disappointment.

"Fear not, lamb. I will not leave here without you, and your dogs."

Pom moves toward the wall that formed from the cave-in. On the other side she can clearly hear Tuft chipping away bit by bit, trying his hardest to save her.

"He is quite persistent, isn't he?" Tianhuo muses. "One of the dogs has been doing that since before you woke up."

"Yeah, that has tae be Tuft. He cannae do much but he loves tae dig." Lying down by the noise Pom sighs. "Hope I see him soon..."

"Ye said I'm the first person ye saved, right?"

"Correct, Pom. My instructions were to firstly check if The Hold was where the Empire believed it to be, report back if it is so—and it is so, so I shall—and then investigate the ruins of Huacaya for further clues.
"I traveled by boat from Huoshan to the Islands, then to Reine. What an awful place that is, far too cold; I left immediately, and then stumbled upon you."

"Och. I must be a bad first impression." groans Pom.

"Not at all, you have been a very interesting impression. I am curious how you got here, though, Pom."

Those two archeologists and their shady ethics shouldn't get mentioned right now. "I just fell," Pom lies.

The longma, looking concerned, follows up with "Hm. What will you do after escaping this?"

"I..."

What is my goal?, Pom thinks to herself. Is she just going to go where Hoofstrong's daughter already is? And that's where Tianhuo's going. What if the Key is somewhere else? And the elephant in the room: Why should she even do it? She never asked for this, and it's caused nothing but trouble. The only things stopping her from turning tail are Big Mama, Big Papa, the logistics of how to get out of this cave, how to get back to Baaah, where Baaah even is relative to the prairie, Tianhuo probably not accepting that answer in the first place...

Better not to fake it. "Dinnae know."

"Come, lamb. Your military would not send their champion without a clue. Or at least I'd pray not, for your people's sake."

"Military?"

There's a pause as Tianhuo seems not to understand what Pom just said. Upon getting it, the longma stares like Pom had just admitted to killing her parents. "By Honored Mother, tell me you're joking. You have no kind of trained forces?"

"No?" Pom says nervously.

Tianhuo's eyes widen in shock. "Are you all stupid?!"

"W-Why?!"

"What if you're attacked?"

"By who?"

"Anyone! And they'd win. Since you haven't a military."

"Is that why Huoshan has one? Yer goin' tae attack us?!" You back away.

"Of course not! Our people are trained for self-defense and personal pride." Tianhuo steps forward.

"Defense from who?"

"Anyone!"

"Lass, I think yer people are too anxious." Pom shakes her head. "No one's gonna attack ye."

"It is amusing that you'd call us anxious, little lamb. We are not in the slightest, but if we were at least it is going toward our actual survival. Were Huoshan to attack Baaah—and we have no interest, but if we were—what would or could the Sheeple do about it?"

A hoof taps Pom's chin as she considers it. "Well, we have a big gate. An' anyone who got in would have tae fight the sheepdogs. You had a hard time with just mine didn't ye?"

"I did not. Were we to fight again I'd be prepared, it was merely the surprise of a sudden 7-on-1 battle that gave them the edge."

Pom's mouth opens to question that statement, and Tinhuo leans in expectantly. After a moment Pom thinks better; let's not fight right now. "Aye, 'twas probably surprising."

"I do have to question why you seem so much comfortable around them, full-blooded predators, than you do me."

"Well..." She's not sure if she should really reveal this to a stranger. Maybe it won't hurt? "The Sheeple dinnae know they're predators. At least most of 'em. I only found out by accident."

"The more you reveal about the Sheeple the more I suspect you might be playing a practical joke on me."

"Are we that pathetic?"

"Perhaps the wrong word, Pom. But I can't understand their priorities, or yours. Do you all just prance about idyllically, not a care in the world, uncaring of what lies outside?"

Pom lets out another "Well..." in hesitation. "Yeah. We do. I used tae, until I was chosen." Resting her head Pom grieves, "I wanna go back tae that."

"You should stop the self-pity. Though you may resent it, the life ahead of you will be much more fulfilling than frolicking among the flowers."

"Ha'e ye ever tried frolicking?"

"No, but I know it'd be a waste of my time."

"What do the longma do when yer not fighting and training?"

"What would you have us do, lamb?"

Pom offers a shrug. "Anything that makes ye happy. Ye need tae play sometimes, Tian."

"Serving the Empress and doing what is needed makes me happy. Having been chosen by Her Majesty makes me the happiest being in all of Foenum." Tianhuo's eyes light up as she says this, and Pom can almost look past the reptillian stare the longma can't help but always give. "If I had spent my youth playing with puppies, I never would have achieved my rank or been acknowledged in this way."

"Maybe I should'a played more, then, and I'd not be here."

"But you would not have met me."

Pom says nothing.

"Surely at this point you're not still afraid of me, are you? It's a great opportunity for us to have crossed paths."

"Why's 'at?" asks Pom.

"Because I can train you, and make up for your people's negligence."

Pom's instinct to avoid combat immediately overrides all possible actions. "No, please, you dinnae have tae. Ye really don't."

"You should face your fears instead of running from them. I'm being generous in my offer, you won't find another in Foenum who could teach you as well as I."

"I really don't wanna. Please, Tian, 's nice and all for ye to offer but—"

"No buts, Pom. You've already shown me your potential, and I'm going to see it realized, for Foenum's sake."

"No! I'm not a fighter."

"You proved that a falsehood when I struck your dog. You acted on instinct."

"That was different! I had tae protect him!"

"Maternal instinct," Tianhuo corrects herself. "If you could, and you should, learn to feel this about all of Foenum, then with a bit of guidance to direct your strikes you'll become a valuable ally."

Pom shakes her head to the point of dizziness. The thought of having to fight with Tianhuo on purpose, continually, maybe for weeks or even months, churns her stomach. Pom bleats out excuse after excuse, plea after plea, until she is snapped to reality by Tianhuo grabbing hold of her head with two hooves and forcing her to meet her gaze. Her cold, sharp gaze.

"Pom. Foenum is about to become a very dangerous world if the Key is not quickly found. I have the strength to save Foenum, no doubt in my heart, but I do not know if I have the time. Both of us were chosen for this, but only one of us was given the tools needed for the task. I am going to prepare you as the Sheeple did not, so you do not get yourself killed. Were I not looking for the Hold, and did not cross paths with you, it may have already happened."

Pom's attention span diminishes as the speech continues, eaten away by her fear and anxiety. Hitting a boiling point, Pom's will isn't strong enough to hold herself there and her body involuntarily squirms out of Tianhuo's grasp, creating a body length of distance between the two of them.

"I— is my form THAT revolting to you?" Tianhuo bites her upper lip but cannot hide the offense taken by Pom's action.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You do not need to accept my help. I will assist you out of the cave, and you will never have to see me again."

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean tae. It was—"

"—instinct. It's admirable for you to try, but I recognize your true feelings."

"I promise I dinnae mean it."

"Stop." Tianhuo gets up, turns around and sits facing away. "You're wasting your time and mine."

Neither Pom nor Tianhuo say anything. Why am I such a coward? Pom laments, tapping her hooves against the dirt floor, trying to think of any way to take what she did back and show she's unafraid.

Nothing comes. Maybe it's because Pom is afraid. She doesn't want to be, she tries so hrd not to be, she knows Tianhuo is not a monster. But something in her brain, or in her body, isn't listening to any of that.

Tuft's clawing and scratching, uninterrupted since Pom woke, stop. Pom rushes to the source of the noise to see what's wrong, but it's too dark.

"Tian, c'mere."

"I asked you not to waste my time."

"Something might be wrong with my pup. Please, I need a light."

"Well, if I can be useful in some way." Tianhuo grumpily walks past Pom, giving a nasty side-eye as she does so. So unfortunate that Tianhuo's most readable expression yet has to be so negative, and that Pom is the cause of it.

Tianhuo illuminates a small hole upon reaching the wall. Crouching down she sticks her head through the hole, "Let us see—EUCH!" before recoiling. Moments later Woof, with great difficulty, squeezes his head through the hole. His body follows with less difficulty.

"Oh, my boy!" Pom lights up, hugging and petting the pup. "Och, ye must'a been so worried about me aye?"

Genius strikes Pom as Woof bounces around the room. She call him over, whispering into his ear, and with a yap he follows her plan. Woof tackles Tianhuo, nearly knocking her over, before she regains footing and amplifies her flames. "Is this a sucker punch?!" she shouts at the pup.

"No, no!" Pom cries, putting herself between the two. "He just wants tae play with ye."

"I do not believe that for a second. His owner is right there to cater to him, he'd have no interest in me."

"But he does, look!" Woof paws at Tian's leg for pets, yapping repeatedly.

"Tell him to quiet himself, before his barking alerts the predators." Tianhuo commands of Pom.

"Ye gotta give him pats first."

"I don't know your game, lamb, but do not jeopardize our lives over it!" she hisses.

"Just, just give him a pet, please?"

Rolling her eyes Tianhuo rests on her haunches and slides a hoof against the dog's fur. Panting, Woof leans the weight of his body into the longma, pawing for more.

"Is he trying to mark me as his territory?" she asks, confounded.

"No, he—oh, Tian, that's not what marking is at all... he likes ye, Tian."

"Why?"

"Do ye need a reason tae like someone?"

"I would say so."

"Ye've not done anything tae make him not like ye."

"I knocked him unconscious."

"Aye, but... I guess it's not enough, so he still likes he."

"I cannot pretend to understand it."

"Oy, stop staring at him and pet him more." Pom asks. Woof rubs his head against Tianhuo's chest, whining for attention.

"Fine, if it will prevent him from starting up again."

Tianhuo lightly taps Woof's head a few times, an awkward motion. "I know he's just a pup but ye can be a little rougher than that," suggests Pom.

"This is not my job, I wouldn't know that."

"'s okay, he's not too picky." Pom smiles watching Tianhuo a bit more into it, Woof soaking up the attention from the stranger. This goes on for a few minutes, Tianhuo gradually seeming to enjoy it, at least enough for it to show in her body language.

"Tian, I gotta talk tae ye about something."

Expression going sombre, Tianhuo diverts attention from the pup. "Let's get it over with, then."

"You are scary. I cannae lie about that. Just, the way you look, and the fire and all."

"I expected you to try and apologize, not whatever this is." she quips.

"I am apologizing. Yer scary, but I know yer a good person, aye? And I ha'e tae get used tae who ye are, 'cause it's just who ye are. And that's okay. I'm sorry I've been so inconsiderate just because I was scared. If it happens again, know I like ye too, no matter what I do, and I'm glad yer willing tae help me and Foenum."

Tianhuo thinks Pom's words over as she continues petting Woof. "So, this is a confirmation that you're accepting my training?"

"Can we talk about the other parts I said first?" asks Pom.

"I accept your apology, Pom." Tianhuo rushes the words. "Now, we are going to train together?"

She's really gonna make me do this? With a sigh Pom answers, "Aye."

"Very well. When I return from Huoshan, we'll meet and begin. We'll begin with merely a few hours per day, to ease you into the routine."

"'Just' a few?'" Pom asks, already regretting her decision.

"One does not become skilled by practicing half-heartedly. And you have a long way to go."

It's another hour or so before Tuft breaks through the wall enough for the other three pups to fit. Tianhuo spends this time monologuing about the work ethics of Honored Father, discipline being the hoe needed to cultivate the something, Pom nodding along nervously as it happens. It's better that there's no hostility between them, but the more Tianhuo gushes about the upcoming training the more Pom fears it will kill her before the predators even get the chance.

Tuft tugs at his owner, sufficiently pleased with his handiwork. It seems like the hole is wide enough for Pom to finally fit—though whether Tianhuo will be able to is another story, with her wider frame. Pom pushes her forehooves through, then her neck, and wiggles her body across. The ground isn't quite even and Pom starts to have trouble moving, and asks for help from the pups still inside the cave. Pom expected one of them to give a push; what she didn't expect was Tianhuo to kick her in the rear with a back hoof, sending Pom sliding out the other side, her momentum only stopped by Big Mama waiting for her.

"Good tae see ye, lass," Pom says even though it's still pitch-black.

The darkness is abruptedly cut off as Tianhuo's neck pokes through the hole, startling Pom as she jumps away, though the longma is too preoccupied to notice. She tries her hardest to get through, but is entirely stuck.

"You should back out, Tian, and start with yer legs first."

"Could have told me that first, lamb." she grunts, trying to get back through. It's just as futile as moving forward, though.

"Oh no! Hang on Tian, I'll figure out something." shouts Pom. She looks left, and right, and in that couple seconds is able to think of absolutely nothing. Instead of waiting longer for a better idea, Pom grabs hold of Tianhuo's neck and pulls, Woof barking excitedly at the action.

"Ack, stop that!"

"I dinnae know what else tae do!"

"Well stop doing this, before I'm decapitated!"

"Hang on, hang on, pups! Tae me!" Pom shouts to the trio on the other side. Tianhuo's eyes suddenly shrink; from across the wall Pom can hear barking and slamming.

"Call off the dogs!" Tianhuo demands. "This is humiliating!"

"We're getting ye out soon, Tian, just hold on!" Pom continues to pull, and the dogs continue to push, and inch by inch Tianhuo seems to budge. Eventually it's enough for her to pull her forelimbs out, and she starts pulling herself forward as well. With a final scream, possibly just to motivate herself, Tianhuo's entire body gets through. She struggles to her hooves, before looking Pom in the eyes and saying "Tell no one of this."

"We're almost out, let's not worry about that. We just need tae find the exit."

"It shall not be that easy."

"Why's that?"

Tianhuo points at a singular pair of red eyes at the opposite end of the cave.

"Oh." Pom says.

"Yes. 'Oh.'"

"In fairness tae me, yer the one who screamed."

The pair of eyes darts forward, the predator stepping into Tianhuo's light and revealing itself as a gigantic serpent. Pom looks around in panic, thinking of what her dogs should do. Without coming to a conclusion, though, Tianhuo rockets into the snake, knocking it out with a single kick.

The longma turns back toward Pom. "Follow my directions if you wish to make it out of here alive."

"I can do that!" Pom stutters.

Tianhuo flies to the underground meadow. It's no longer empty; meeting her there are two, three, four, too many predators. All of them converge on her, chasing her when she dodges to the right, then again to the left. Pom and her flock of dogs enter the room, ignored by the horde, when Tianhuo shouts "NOW!" and goes into a specific tunnel, different than the one they had entered. Pom dashes after her, followed by her dogs, them followed by the corralled predators.

Pom cannot even see Tianhuo as they rush through the twisting cave, having to follow the orange glow left by her. There are as many branching paths as where Pom first came from, almost all of them containing a red glare or several. Pom only looks back to make sure none of her dogs are lost; all of them can keep up, thankfully, and none of them have been picked off.

There's a crash up ahead. Pom fears Tianhuo hit a dead end, running even faster to try and protect her—as redundant as that would be—but the reality of the situation is much better. Tianhuo bashed through a metal door, letting in blinding sunlight. Pom stops running to cover her eyes, and is then pushed through the exit by the dogs behind, tumbling several yards past the exit. The dogs all barely squeeze through in time; the predators aren't so lucky, as they all hit the entrance together, clogging it. The neck of a serpent propels out from the cave—only to stop, the rest of its body knotted within the mess of predators. It snaps at Pom ineffectually before Tianhuo knocks it unconscious. The longma helps Pom up and motions her away from the pile.

Pom takes in her surroundings, seeing that they exited through what looks like a cellar door, a mass of broken chains and several padlocks surrounding it. There are no buildings next to it, nothing at all. Whoever did this must have known about The Hold.

"Come Pom, let us escape before they come to." Tianhuo instructs.

"Wait."

"Hm?"

"We cannae leave this place like this. There are cattle nearby, it's not safe for them."

"Cattlekind, as I am told, go where the please. They wouldn't listen to your warnings even if you told them what was near."

"Then we have to close this off!"

"Why are you now so brave?" Tianhuo asks.

"I'm not, but even I know this is dangerous! 'tis my fault any of this happened, I have tae block this off or something."

"Respectable. Well, let us see what we can find."

Tianhuo flies high, scanning the area, and quickly descends. "In that direction is a large rock. The two larger dogs of yours should have the strength to roll it into the entrance and block it off. It isn't perfect, but I feel predators were already escaping this cavern before the chains were broken."

Thinking of the abandoned tools by the dig site, Pom can't help but agree. She instructs Mama and Papa to follow the longma, and after a few minutes they roll the rock to the door. A couple predators had regained their senses and had begun pushing past their brethren... only to double back when they see the rock rolling toward them. It rolls several dozen feet into the cavebefore it gets stuck, blocking off the path from anyone foolish enough to find it.

"Okay, that's good. Yeah." Pom says.

Then she faints.

"Wake, Pom. I have let you sleep long enough."

Pom awakens, with a shiver, on Papa's back. She's already back in Reine, accompanied by Tianhuo, the other dogs, and several deerfolk guards looking on edge at the strange posse they're escorting.

"Why're we here?"

"This is where we say goodbye for now, little one." Tianhuo says. "I must return to Huoshan and impart my findings."

"Yer going already?"

"I cannot afford to waste time, especially after seeing how close the predators really are to fully escaping. It was good to meet you, and I promise it won't be long before we can begin our training."

"Oh..."

"Do not be sad, Pom. Your dogs will be able to protect you until I can give you the skills you need to protect yourself. And I am sure I don't need to tell you I can protect myself as well."

"W-... Wait! Everybody stop!"

The entire group stops. The guards look on annoyedly as Tianhuo asks "what is so important, Pom?"

"Yer better at fighting than me, and know a lot more what tae look for."

"That is self-evident, yes." Tianhuo says.

"Let me go tae Huoshan and tell them about the Hold."

"You?! Pom, you have not even learned to fully accept one longma, as much as you try. Am I to trust you to go to a nation comprised only of my people, to not turn tail and run without delivering the message?"

"I'll do it! I want to be helpful! I dinnae wanna just run into danger, and I know I cannae just abandon the quest either... no matter how much I want to. Please, Tian. Let me give the message, so ye can spend that time finding the Key!"

The two guards whisper to each other, darting back and forth between Pom, her flock, and Tianhuo. At one point the female guard stamps the ground once, looks back at them all, then stamps the ground seven times. The male guard agrees, then approaches. "You should let the lamb go. We have too many odd sights in Reine, and she's the cause of most of them right now."

"You stay out of this." Tianhuo threatens, and the guard retreats to his companion. "Pom, are you sure you can be trusted with such an important task? It's not a straight shot to Huoshan. First you will have to visit the Goatani isles, the only port that travels to Huoshan, and then transfer boats. If you do want to run away you'll have nowhere to go. But I also cannot have you run in the first place—"

"I won't run away!" Pom shouts. "I can do this, and I will, I promise on my pups. If ye dinnae trust me, take one of 'em until I come back."

"You... do not need to do that. I have no interest in holding your dogs hostage. The upkeep alone ensures that."

Tianhuo steps toward the guards, plucking a notepad a pen from one of their uniform pockets. "Hey!" the guard shouts, before Tianhuo gives them a glare and they step back in line. Tianhuo scribbles something down on a paper already in her possession, passing it along to Pom.

"Place this in an envelope and give it to a soldier. They will take it to the Empress, and your task will be complete. You shall meet me at the height of the Huacaya Mountains afterward. And we shall begin our training."

Tianhuo returns the writing utensils to the guard, who quickly declines. "Sorry, I'd rather not catch your mouth germs. I don't know where you've been."

Tianhuo places a hoof on Pom's shoulder. "Board the S.S. Hoofstrong, and after arriving find the Landracegeder which will take you to Huoshan. I must warn you, Pom, I have been very patient with you and accepting of your faux pas. By entering the Longma Empire, you will be expected to behave a certain way, and may be severely punished should you offend the people. Do you understand?"

"I think I do... can you tell me what you mean by 'faux pas?'"

"There's not nearly enough time to explain. The Hoofstrong leaves in less than ten minutes."

"Huh?!"

"I entrust this task to you, Pom. Do not betray that trust. I will be seeing you soon."

Tianhuo flies away. "And we will train!" she shouts down as she leaves.
"Hey! This is a no-fly zone!" the guard shouts at the longma after she's already out of earshot. He then turns to Pom. "You get to your ship before it leaves, so Reine can get back to normal already. At this rate we're going to see a unicorn here if things aren't settled."

"Sorry, I just need to find an envelope and I can—"

The second guard, who had disappeared for a moment, returns, her sprite shoving an fresh envelope into Pom's face. "Please, just go." she says.

"ᛚᛟᚢᚫᛚᚱᛖᛞᛟ" says the sprite.

"Thank ye for the kindness," Pom says, clumsily stuffing the paper in the envelope, then sticking it in her collar for safekeeping. Gathering her dogs, Pom hurrie to the ports.

Chapter 6 — To The Isles

"There's a Tee-an-who-oh on the list, yeah. Weird name for a sheep."

"I think it's pronounced 'Tianhuo,' ma'am."

"You think? It's your name, lady. Whatever, get on."

"Oh, I mean it isn't—"

"We're leaving right now, get on."

Pom arrived at the docks without a moment to spare. As she and her dogs rushed over, Pom realized with horror that Tianhuo had failed to give her any kind of ticket, but fortunately for her Huoshan's diplomats had set up the journey in advance and booked her by name. Pom, or 'Tianhuo' as far as the staff are concerned, begins boarding the ship, only to be stopped partway up the ramp.

"Aren't we in a hurry?" Pom asks.

The crewman, a light-coated doe chewing on some gum, points behind Pom. "No pets."

"Hang on, I can't leave 'em behind, they're important."

"Then you'll have to forfeit your cruise. No pets."

"You dinnae get it, they aren't pets, they're..."

"Mhm?" The doe looks on, blowing a bubble.

Pom dances in place for a moment, before the idea comes to her. "They're my guide animals!"

The bubble pops. A sprite in a sailor suit immediately begins cleaning the doe's face, rolling another gumball into her mouth. "All of these are your guide animals?"

"I... I'd be lost without all of 'em." Pom says, flustered at how true the lie actually is.

"ᛒᛟᛈᛒᛟᛈ" says the sprite to the crewman.

"True, she is a sheep." the doe whispers back. Facing Pom she says "we're prohibited by law from declining service animals, your lucky day. If they cause any trouble, however, expect consequences."

"Thank ye so much, lass." Pom says.

"Get them on the ship. We're raising anchor."

"Sorry, sorry." Pom rings her bell and the dogs come running up, the larger ones nearly knocking the doe over. With a bitter look, she and the sprite follow, and the ship sails.

The ship is magnificent. It's massive, but every inch of it is luxurious. From the massive dining hall to the decadent bedrooms that make Reine's prison cell look like, well, a prison cell, to just the wonderous view of the frigid ocean from the deck of the ship, it's an awe-inspiring behemoth.

Pom experiences none of this. Pom sits with her dogs in the cargo hold, making sure none of them leave to cause trouble. The floor is cold metal, and Pom huddles close with the pack to avoid contact with it as she waits for her destination to arrive. Tianhuo, or whomever arranged it for her, probably didn't expect such an extravagant cruise to be spent like this.

If these pups would behave, I could run up and grab a snack... Pom thinks to herself. That thought is pushed out of her mind when, to Pom's concern, Woof begins whining for food.

"Ohhhh, poor lad. There's nothin' on this ship for sheepdogs, is there?"

A few hours later all four of her pups are whining. Och, if they'd just eat some clover... Pom's own stomach has begun growling by this point as well. Maybe, without any alternatives, the pups would at least try the greens?

Figuring there's no sense not to try, Pom instructs Mama and Papa to keep her puppies in one place and, second-guessing herself, ventures upstairs.

"'scuse me, could I ha'e seven orders of clovers and dandelions? Tae go."

The chef, turned around, asks "To go? What do you mean by this, it isn't as if—ah!" The chef is startled at Pom's appearance, as if the sudden appearance of a scrawny, baby-fleeced sheep was the most horrifying thing in the world. "Apologies, I simply wasn't expecting... it does not matter. Why to go?" The chef looks her up and down, wondering where she plans to fit those seven orders.

"They aren't all for me," Pom quickly assures. "It's for my..." Pom struggles to remember the term used by that crew member. "I have service animals in the cargo hold."

"You think my cuisine deserves to be eaten by mere animals?!"

"I dinnae mean it like that! But, um, they're hungry..."

Rolling his eyes the chef calls forth his assistant, an anxious fawn with budding horns. "Slap together some dandelion and clover. Seven leftovers boxes of them. Do it quickly."

"Y-Yes sir!"

Pom is forced to wait. Minutes and minutes pass without a peep from the kitchen, anxiety creeping up at what havoc may be wreaked by her pups without her authority. At any moment some important socialite may be getting harassed. What if I'm fined? I've nearly no salt! They'll make me work, and then I cannae deliver the letter! These thoughts and worse intrude Pom's mind as seconds turn to hours in her head.

"H-Here. Sorry for the w-wait."

Pom snaps her head at the fawn, carrying her order on a cart, who jolts back at the sudden action. With no more than a "thankyesomuchthankye" Pom grabs the cart and wheels it back to the hold at full speed. The fawn meekly asks for the cart back, running after her for a moment but giving up after a few steps.

Pom turns into the doorway leading down to the cargo area—forgetting entirely the stairway that makes up that passage. Pom narrowly avoids another tumble down a flight of stairs; the cart does not, careening downward and crashing at the bottom with an audience-attracting noise. The fawn chases the noise, almost bumping into Pom, and seeing the damage to the cart she puts her hooves over her head and starts crying.

"Don't cry, dinnae cry, it's okay!" Pom pleads, sliding down the stairway and almost falling face-first at the bottom. Pom rights the cart, perfectly fine other than some very minor dents, and tries to push it back up. This effort lasts for four steps before the cart tips backward, nearly crushing Pom underneath before it tips over entirely, causing a second crash almost as loud as the previous.

"Sacre bleu!" Pom sees the chef at the top of the stairway, visibly incensed, all attention focused on the dumbstricken fawn. "Apprentice! Explain yourself!"

"I-I-I-I-I—"

"You could've killed one of our patrons! Trying to push that down stairs? Look at it, damaged beyond repair!"
The chef steps forward, causing the apprentice to scrabble away from him. "I'll have this put on your record!"
He takes another step forward, trapping the fawn against a wall. "I'll have your pay docked to pay for this!"
Leering at the fawn the chef presses his snout against hers, delivering the coup de grace, "And I'll be telling your parents."

"W-W-W-Wait I-I—" stammers the fawn, eyes darting every way except in front of her, before being dragged away from the scene by her shirt.

Most of the boxes are flattened or the contents spilled out. Pom picks up the one mostly-unharmed box, balancing it on her head, and returns to where she hopes the dogs still are, rounding them up more important than the rest of the food. "Yip yip!" she shouts. "Tae think, I was worried about ye but I'm the only one who caused any trouble."

To her confusion, though, Pom bumps into a familiar patch of fur when she tries to check on her pups; Big Papa blocks the doorway. It's a rather large doorway, enough for Mama and Papa to fit through, but Papa spreads himself even wider than usual. With perhaps a bit too much optimism Pom lowers herself to maybe squeeze under Papa, but he simply sits down to stop it.

"'s wrong, boy? I need to check on the wee ones. Pardon," Pom says, trying to budge him. Big Papa stares as she futilely nudges him, a clear motivation to hide... something. "Papa, out! Out." Pom points at him, then toward the stairway, but in an act of clear defiance Papa stays put.

Placing her food down, Pom attempts to pull Papa by the scruff with her mouth, exerting what force she can. Papa still refuses to move an inch... and utters a low growl.

"What was that?!" Pom bleats at the much more powerful canine. "Don't ye take that tone! I am in charge of ye, dinnae growl at me! Bad dog, bad dog!" Papa's head hangs at the beratement, and with one final "Out!" from Pom, clears the doorway.

Pom re-obtains her meal, briskly enters the room—and then the meal falls to the floor as Pom jerks still. All four of her pups are accounted for, happily wagging their tails, not a worry in their little minds. Pom's attention is focused on the other items in the room, though: rats. Numerous, large, dead rats.

Mama enters from behind, tail also swishing behind her, one more rat in her jaws. As she catches sight of Pom her tail goes still, though. They stare at each other, an unspoken code broken.

Pom is the first to move, stepping toward the door. She doesn't look directly at Mama or the poor thing in her jaws. She says, barely above a whisper, "...thanks for finding food for 'em, Mama. Good lass."

Pom exits the room, and pets Papa a bit. He looks at her with a bit of sympathy, him having failed his part as well by letting Pom through, but Pom compliments his behavior just like Mama's.

This is what they have to do. They're carnivores, and the rats weren't meant to be on the ship anyway. They were probably stealing food from the kitchen. It's... not nice, but it's just how it is, and they even do their best to hide it. You know they're good dogs, always have been, always will be.

Despite these self-assurances, Pom has lost her appetite.

The remainder of the cruise is uneventful. Not wanting to let the herd out of her sight again, Pom stays in the hold. Their meal was enough to satiate them, and the pups bounce around the room looking to play as usual. As unsavory as it was to experience that first hand, Pom can't help but feel... nice, relieved even, that her dogs can and will be able to feed themselves. Should anything happen, should they get separated from her, they'll be okay, at least for a while.

"Excuse m-me." There's a quiet knock against the metal frame outside the doorway. Pom checks it and finds the fawn from earlier, as anxious as she was before. "W-We're arriving at the Goata—G-, the G-Goatani Islands in five minutes."

"Thank ye," Pom says. "I'm so sorry about earlier, I just really, really needed tae get back tae my dogs."

"It's okay..." The fawn peers in, gets one peek at the group, and backs out with a tiny squeak.

"They're friendly, I promise. I could introduce ye," offers Pom, but the fawn shakes her head, nearly tripping over her own hooves as she backs up. "Okay then. Your food was, uh, great!" Pom never actually touched any of the greens, but a compliment can't hurt, especially for something as hard to mess up as clover. With the most minute nod the fawn mumbles something unintelligible, then hurries back up the stairs.

What a poor, poor lass, Pom thinks. More nervous doing a simple job than I am when I'm... well, doing anything.

A few minutes later the loud rumbling of chains begins echoing through the hold as anchor is dropped. Pom shovels some of her food into her mouth, corrals her companions, and feels the warmth of sunlight as she surfaces to the deck of the ship. Such a shame she couldn't properly enjoy such a majestic cruise...

"Not tae trouble ye, lass, but where are the other ports?"

Rolling her eyes, the same doe from earlier wordlessly—and impatiently—draws a large circle in the air above her head.

"Wait, ye mean—"

"Yes. It's an island. Please, you're holding up the line."

Pom turns, and behind Big Papa is a score of angry deerfolk trying and failing to get around him. One buck, so bold, hangs halfway over the side in his desperation to shop.

"Sorry! Yip!" Pom instructs, clambering down the wooden ramp. Eager to stick close, the canines do the same, shaking the entire ramp and knocking several deerfolk off their hooves—or in one case off the side into the water.

Inhaling sharply, Pom mutters "Faster." as she and her pack leave the area. Pom doesn't look back to see the aftermath, or to hear whatever the attendant began screaming.

Chapter 7 — The Islands

Pom passes by a street market, eager to get to the ship, not stopping to talk to the peddlers. She rushes down an alleyway, marches down a busy street with dogs in tow, down a second alley, and arrives at another street market. The vendors there, a bit more aggressive than the first batch, call out to Pom, but she just walks past. She was told one thing about the islands back as a wee lamb: 'Don't buy anything unless yer willing tae throw away yer salt.'

Pom heads down another alley, onto an even more crowded street. Feeling out of her element, she quickly slips into another alley to get away from the mass. Exiting the alley she finds herself in, frustratingly, another market. Does every market on this island look the same?

"Girl! C'mere, lamb!" a old, tan goat shouts from a fruit pile.

"Sorry, I'm... busy!" Pom says, desperate to avoid a haggle that she'd, well, probably fall for. When the coot stands up, Pom, spooked and disoriented, runs across the market, finding an alley to slip into. Herding her dogs across Pom enters yet another street.

"Och!" Pom shouts, pushing against the crowd—or rather Mama and Papa clearing a path in front of her, a stream of merchants and sailors pushed aside. "Sorry. Sorry!" Pom whispers repeatedly, until she finds the escape she's been looking for: an alleyway.

Pom catches her breath inside, checks to make sure the smaller pups are all accounted, then walks through the alley—

"Ewe!"

Pom jolts back, confronted by the same goat who chased her down. Raising his hooves in bewilderment he shouts, "You've been running around the market for ages! You got a brain problems?"

Och.
Ochhh, I am a sheep. Through and through. Top to bottom.

The entirety of Pom's journey has been simple. Not easy, at least not for her, but simple enough for Sheeple. Following a well-traveled path, especially without any destination in mind, is something that can be done without much brainpower. Same can be said for running aimlessly, hoping to find something and brute-forcing the pathfinding. It's simpler still to run for one's life, the sole destination being 'away from that thing before it ends me.'

The Sheeple are bad with directions, and Pom is more sheepish than most. The fog lifted from her eyes, Pom can see, from where she stands, the figure-eight path she's rambled down. Two streets, four alleys, and this single market.

The entire square stares at her, bleeding red in the face as her fear shifts into embarrassment. Pom sinks into the fluff of her dogs—to be pulled by the hoof into the open. Light talk can be heard from peddlers and beggars on all sides as Pom is made the center of attention. "Come on girl, what's the rush?" the old goat prods.

"Sorry! I'm just, well... lost."

The crowd's chatter grows louder, commerce stopping as vendors and customers alike look on with smiles.

"Where you headed?"

"I need to find the Lander... no, what was it called? The Lanced Grader. Can you take me to the Lanced Grader?"

"Haven't heard of it." the old goat says.

"I got a tip!" a cross-eyed ram shouts from the crowd.

"Ye do?" Pom beams, cutting into the crowd.

"Yeah. Five licks."

"Wha?"

A few voices in the crowd try, but fail, to suppress their laughter.

"Think of it like a tip, for your tip."

"Well, for this I guess it's worth it."

Pom cuts back through the crowd, opening one of Papa's saddlebags and gathering five licks of salt. She scurries to her helper, balancing on two legs so she can hold the salt in her hooves, and holds it out. The goat nods, looking at it for a second as if to gather it's real—then scoops it into his mouth, leaving behind a trace of spit. Pom recoils in disgust, trying to wipe it off her wool as the goat samples the taste.

"Mmm, this is good. Alright, the boat you're looking for..."

The crowd leans in.

"...is on the island."

The crowd erupts into laughter. Pom stands there for a moment, the only ungulate to not get it—and then she does. She turns redder than before, ashamed that she'd been tricked.

"Oh, don't look like that, pretty thing you." A rotund gray goat says from the crowd. "Hey, I have a much better tip!"

"Really?" Pom doubts.

"Aye... five licks."

The crowd, having calmed down a bit, struggles to contain themselves. Pom thinks it over, hesitating.

"Don't worry, he's actually good for it." the first conman says, still chuckling to himself. Taking a deep breath, Pom relents, procuring five more salt from the bag and giving it to the portly goat. He stifles the friend next to him, nearly going into a fit, then looks Pom in the eye.

"Good, good. Your ship..."

The goat's buddy has to hold both hooves against his mouth to keep silent.

"...is in the water!"

Even harder than before, the square turns into a cacophony of cackling. The fat one's friend falls to his side, fainting from the burst of merriment, only to continue howling in laughter moments later. Pom backs away slowly, but finds her exit route cut off by a one-eyed, toothless beggar. "If you're giving out salt I'll help you!"

"Don't listen to Billy, he's full of it." scoffs the trickster who put Pom in this situation to begin with. Pom looks in all directions for a way out, surrounded and prodded, physically and verbally, by a horde of hecklers. When they fail to get any further reaction from the overloaded lamb, one pushes her from behind, knocking her headfirst into a female goat adorned with an aqua green bandana.

"Watch it!" she shouts, prying Pom off her. Pom begins to apologize, only to get yanked by the tail. The crowd tightens around Pom, not leaving enough room to stand.

"Please let me go..." Pom asks too soft to be heard. The only noise that can cut above the cheers and jeers is Pom's dogs, growling and trying their hardest to get to her without having to bite someone.

"Speak up, woman!"

"Asking for another tip? Ten licks!"

A hoof starts poking Pom in the side, accompanied by a taunt of "Get up kid, you're gonna miss your voyage!"

Pom tucks her head under her legs, trapping her emotions inside, waiting for the mob to get bored and disperse... but they don't, only finding it funnier. The entire ordeal is too much for the little lamb to bear.

So she doesn't.

"GET OFF O' ME!"

A wide arc clears in front of Pom, the crowd pushed away by Pom's bark. Unable to stop her shaking Pom turns to her left; "YOU TOO!"

The crowd to her right doesn't need to be told, giving the lamb a wide berth, as do those behind her. Immediately Big Mama takes charge, towering over Pom and snarling at any onlookers who might dare to go back in, pups close behind.

"No need to be like that, was nothing but a good time." says the cross-eyed instigator, fazed neither by the outburst nor the threats of violence from Mama.

"Why do ye have tae be so mean?! I, I want my salt back!" Pom chokes back tears as she points at the goat.

In response the goat shuts his eyes, sticks his salt-covered tongue out, then retracts it. "Caveat emptor, little lady. Consider it a lesson."

"That's not fair!"

"So you've learned! Now then, I have a stand to watch over."

The goat leaves as the rest of the crowd goes back to their business, leaving Pom humiliated and comforted only by her dogs.

Then, another voice joins in. "I'm sorry to have seen that. Always ask for their end of the bargain first, darling."

Upon turning around Pom is greeted face-to-face by an extravagantly dressed sprite, a thick coat and matching hat draping their body, eyes obscured by sunglasses. "ᚳᚢᛗᚩᚾ!" he gestures, motioning with his entire arm toward a partially set up stand. Behind the stand Pom can only see the fluffy white tail of a doe, hanging various posh items of clothing on racks.

Big Papa sticks like glue to Pom as she approaches, wary of letting his escortee get separated again. A glare from the doe's eyewear blinds Pom momentarily as she faces the stand, adjusting a long green scarf and introducing herself with a rhythm that must have been rehearsed many time. "Welcome to Cap 'n' Cash, where Cap and Cashmere sell caps for cash. I am, of course, Cashmere. It sounds as though you're lost?"

Averting her gaze Pom sidesteps the question. "It's just a bit of trouble, no need tae worry."

Smiling warmly the doe assures, "I'm far too charitable to charge you, my lovely lamb. Anything you'd like to ask, feel free, no need to be nervous." Cap quickly wipes Pom's eyes with a red fabric, prompting a quiet scolding from the deer: "not that one, use something cheaper."

The lovely lamb nods along, but without thinking leans against Papa's side anyway, bracing for the rug to be pulled under her. Thinking for a moment to find the words, Pom says, "I need tae find a boat, the... Great Land Racer? Och, I wish I wrote it down."

"No need to be down on oneself, dear," says the deer. "I wouldn't know the location of any particular ship, but the two largest ports are at the north—" pointing to the left, "—and south exits." She points to the right. "Clothing is my forte but on long excursions like this I carry a few survival supplies, never knowing who may need them."

With a light whistle from Cashmere the sprite rummages through several suitcases, producing a small object. Pom looks it over, unable to glean its purpose, and asks "what's this?"

"A simple compass. No matter what direction you point it, this small needle will face north."

"Ye can do that?" Pom asks, bewildered. Grasping it in her hooves like an ancient artifact Pom quickly spins around, finding Cash's claims to be true. It's a magic solution for a sheep's bad directions! No more having to turn a map seven times to figure out where you are! Maybe that last part isn't quite true. But wow!

"How much?!" Pom shouts, eagerly slamming it on the counter.

"I'm so glad I could help you!" Cashmere offers an inviting smile before ducking under the counter—hiding the grisly grin and greedy gaze she couldn't contain any longer. "Normally I would sell these for about a hundred salt, but in your time of need I'll part with it for fifty."

"Fifty?"

Pom checks the salt in Papa's saddlebags. She wasn't given a lot from the Sheeple, maybe a bit over one hundred. And she's already parted with ten today...

"I can see your hesitation, and that's alright." Cashmere reassures, popping above the counter with the same inviting tone and look. "Given what happened with those peddlers, how about I recoup your loss? I'll sell it for forty licks, and you can forget all about that bad time."

"Ye'd really do that for me?"

"Just for you."

Pom herds Papa to the stand and counts out forty salt. She spins the compass around one last time, still surprised such magic is real, and then pushes the salt forward. "I cannae tell ye how grateful I am, really!"

"It's entirely my pleasure, darling." Cashmere says, pushing the compass forward and gathering the salt. As she lowers it into the till, Cashmere calls for Cap, whispering "Order two hundred compasses for our next trip to Baaah."

"ᛋᛟᚱᛟᚢᛋ?"

"Dead serious, two hundred. This is an untapped market, and these things are so cheap that we'd be fools not to jump in."

Cap and Cash look up to see Pom and company about to leave, Pom staring intently at the new device balanced on her nose. With a quick gesture from Cashmere, Cap pulls her back in, flying above and dropping the red fabric over her head. Pom jolts around in confusion, before seeing Cap and returning to the stand.

"This hood is a bit tear-stained, thank you Cap, but it's still good as new! As wonderful as it was to assist you just now, fashion is our real strong suit, and I feel this would look perfect on you! Because of the used nature I'll sell it for only two hundred and fifty salt, rather than three hundred."

"Huh? I think I ha'e one of these at home."

"You should have brought it on your tour, you'd be the talk of the town then! But still, we have plenty of other items: bonnets, beanies, berets? Or perhaps," Cashmere says, gently flicking Pom's bell, "you're more the neckwear type? I can relate. We've got plenty of necklaces, maybe even a scarf? Deer love scarves."

"I've already a collar..."

"You're practically naked! Trust me, anyone from Reine will tell you fashion comes first—"

The conversation is cut short by Papa's growl; Pom finds Cap peering into her dog's bags, mimicking a horizontal cut across his neck. Cashmere nods at the motion and returns to setting up her stand. "Well I shouldn't keep you from your destination, enjoy your compass. When your full coat comes in I also buy wool, much better to get it from the source, free shearing! Don't be a stranger!"

After Pom heads north, a bit confused by the whole exchange, the doe pines to her sprite. "Shame she was traveling so light, I know I would've talked her into more if she had the salt."

"The Landracegeder!"

Written in wide letters on the side of a ship is the name Pom has ran around in circles for. With a spring in her step Pom trots to some goats loading cargo onto it, asking "Is this the Landracegeder?"

A coal-black goat looks up at Pom, then at the boat. "If it's not I'm probably about to be in trouble with the law. What business do you have with my ship?"

"Yer headed tae Huoshan, aren't ye?"

"We are. What of it?"

"I actually made it!" Pom shouts to herself, running up the steps—only to be pulled backward by one of the workers.

With an annoyed glance the captain steps away from her cargo and bluntly states, "This isn't a passenger ship."

"But, Tianhuo said ye were taking her to Huoshan."

"We do have an arrangement to do that, but unless you can start breathing fire you're not Tianhuo."

"Sorry, ye dinnae understand. I'm goin' tae Huoshan for her."

"We weren't told anything about this."

"It was, uh, last minute."

"So last minute we didn't hear of it. You trying to get a free ride?"

"What? No!"

"Then scram. We have a deal with the longma military, which you aren't a part of."

"But, b-but," Pom stammers. An argument fails to come, and Pom begins dancing in place as she stutters and mumbles half-sentences. The captain looks on with annoyance, waiting for Pom to get off the walkway so the cargo can be loaded. Before she takes Pom down herself, another goat whispers in her ear. There's a small exchange between them, and two grins flash simultaneously.

"Alright lamb, for twenty salt we'll take you there. I don't believe your story, but it's not like people are interested in going to the volcano very often."

With a sigh of relief Pom rushes back to the captain, shaking her hoof. "Och, it's been such a bad day, I thank ye so much." Pom nearly melts as today's stress evaporates. She pulls the letter from her collar,

WHEREISTHELETTER

"You alright, kid?" the captain says, waving a hoof in Pom's face.

"Deadly!" Pom assures, feeling one side of her collar, then the next. WHEREISIT "I-I think I need tae walk tae the central square for a minute, can ye wait?"

The black goat points at a stone sundial adorned with sixteen notches. Tapping the closest notch to the shadow she states "We leave here. If you aren't on the boat when we leave you will be left behind."

"Oh, I'll be back in just a wee bit." Pom smiles, trotting away with a similar spring in her step until she turns the corner.

The Landracegeder out of sight, Pom bursts into a full sprint. Unprepared for such a panic, the dogs take a moment to register their owner taking off and chase after her, knocking over anyone who failed to give her a berth.

"Letter!"

"Back already? I didn't think you'd—"

"Ye took my letter! Where is it?! I gotta deliver it!"

Pom towers atop a fruit stand, screaming at the very same cross-eyed goat who had taken her salt.

"I took five salt. I like the hustle but I'm not a thief."

Ignoring his answer, Pom checks under his stand, behind it, under the fruit. She even forces the goat's mouth wide open; she can still see the salt taken from her, but no traces of paper.

Pom violently rings her bell and her dogs, not needing a word, split up, checking every inch of the square for Tianhuo's scent. Pom wastes no time as this happens, weaving around the square in case the letter was hidden in plain sight. Minutes pass without a trace, and Pom's adrenaline begins to fade, realizing she's done nothing but inconvenience a large group of people just making a living. A mass of wide-pupiled eyes stare at her, none of the amusement.

"I'm sorry... but I... I need..."

Ruff howls at the top of his lungs, a trace found. Gasping, Pom neglects her apology and scrambles after him. Ruff runs down several streets and avenues, taking Pom to... the Landracegeder.

"No Ruff, we need the letter." Pom chides, but Ruff barks in disagreement, tugging at her leg.

Pom is unable to read his motive, until the black captain shouts from the ship, "About time! You nearly missed it!"

Pom sputters as the passage of time catches up to her, running to the ship, dogs in tow. When Tuft, slowest of the pack, leaps onto the deck anchor is immediately raised, taking Pom away from the cruel, blunt island. As the Goatani isle disappears from view the captain reminds, "Twenty salt."

"Och, of course." Pom slides her payment from her saddlebag into the captain's sack. "Ye didnae tell me yer name."

"Captain Estrela," says Captain Estrela. "You, and more importantly your dogs, will stay in the cargo hold until we arrive."

Pom winces, having just spent a handful of hours in a different cargo hold, but nods, thankful that her journey is nearly done. Entering the cabin a handful of goats are toasting the voyage. "Hey!" Estrela shouts. "You still have work to do! You can rest when it's done!" The sailors quickly disband, some running downstairs and others back to the deck.

"Navigator, chart the course." Estrela instructs one remaining goat sitting behind a table.

"Already have!" he salutes. "The sheep?"

"Last minute passenger."

"Best watch yourself, lamb. Else the sharks'll get you!"

Pom perks up, asking with a tinge of fear, "There are sharks here? Wouldn't they have been sealed with the predators?"

"If they were sealed they did a bad job. I'd know!"

The goat steps over the table, revealing two long pegs where his hind legs should be. Pom jolts to the lower hold with an "eek!" to the goat's delight.

Beneath the deck, Ruff is as restless as before boarding, trying to get behind a stack of boxes. "Bad puppy." scolds Pom, lightly shoving Ruff away, but his attention remains on the boxes.

"If he opens anything you're paying for it, one way or another." warns a sailor as he finishes moving the last of the cargo, leaving Pom and the dogs alone.

Scooping Ruff up into her legs Pom nuzzles against him, saying "what's into ye? It's just me, the lads, and a few sailors. I know we lost the letter but, we'll figure it out, we just need tae tell 'em about the Hold. Everything's fine for once."

Ruff's incessant barking only intensifies, and Pom puts him down. "Nothing wrong here, boy."

"Wrong!"

Pom's mouth is covered by some cloth, two hooves around her neck. Every dog gets in position to strike, waiting for a signal. A female voice from behind instructs, "Don't scream or you'll face mi cutlass."

"?!" muffles Pom.

"I follow ya all day and there's nothing in that letter of yours but some lines on paper. Where's your booty?"

"?!!!" Pom tries to turn around at mention of Tianhuo's letter, but is forced to face front.

"Tell me, sheep!"

"!!"

The cloth is removed from Pom's mouth. "Ye stole my letter?!" Pom immediately asks. The assailant's chipped, jagged hoof pushes against Pom's back in response.

"Mi deh ask the questions here! Now no sudden moves, you."

Pom is turned around, meeting the threatening red-eyed glare of a brown goat. She picks up the cloth, tying it around her scalp.

It's an aqua bandana.

"You—you were at the square!"

"Good memory, for a sheep. Now tell me what this is supposed to say!"

The goat shoves the contents of the envelope in front of Pom. Figuring the goat is just illiterate, Pom begins to read it—but she can't. Rather than the usual runes used by sheep, deer, goats and more, these symbols are entirely alien; complex in their design and written with extreme precision. Every line and curve looks perfect; if it weren't for a few tiny imperfections Pom might assume the letter was printed rather than the product of mouth-writing. Near the bottom the perfect strokes give way to jagged, hasty strikes, probably something Tianhuo wrote as an addendum when Pom asked to go in her place.

Immediately giving up on trying to decipher it, Pom says "it's longma writing. It's... a lot of military stuff."

"Bah. Whatcha really hiding then?" demands the goat.

"Huh?"

"Some clueless sheep with a bunch of escorts coming to the island from a cruise ship, talkin' with a fancy clothing store, handin' out salt like it's free. I know you're rich, gimme di loot! How much salt are you carrying? Any jewelry?"

"Jewelry? Ye've the wrong idea—"

The goat yanks Pom's collar forward. "How much's that bell worth?"

"I dinnae know?"

Stepping over Pom the goat focuses at the dogs instead. "Nuh si bai dogs around here. They expensive?" She looks down at Woof, lifts him on her back and says, "he seems easy to carry... I'll take him."

"Hold on, hold on, ye cannae do that!"

"Who'll stop me? Cyann tell a pirate what to do!" the goat laughs, until the puppy nips her on the tail. She spins around at the sudden attack, then lowers herself onto her haunches, sliding him off. "Maybe I'll find a more behaved dog actually."

"Who even are ye?" Pom demands, getting Woof away from the scoundrel.

"You don't know me? Just the greatest pirate-to-be, Shanty!"

"This is a pirate ship?!"

Shanty scoffs. "Dem nuh kno mi yah. I'm stowin' away like you!"

"I'm not a stowaway!"

"Hm. That case, don't tell 'em I'm here, 'kay?"

"Hang on, ye just—ye just—"

Pom waves her hooves, stopping everything. "You just stole from me! And ye want me tae give ye a pass?"

"Not like you had anything valuable." Shanty rolls her eyes.

"Not my point!"

"Ay, I need to get something from ya if I wanna call this a successful plunder. Your silence fits the bill, ay?"

"...ye'll give my letter back and leave me alone?"

"Pirate's honor!"

"...okay."

"Spiffy. So where wi a go?"

"We? I'm going tae Huoshan."

"The volcano?"

"Aye."

"Aye! Bet there's lots of stuff to steal there, ancient longma treasures."

"Don't get any ideas, I'm not helping you with that!"

"Course. You'd get in my way."

With a bit of reservation, Pom says, "'S not right tae steal, Shanty."

Shanty glares momentarily, before a switch is flipped in her head. Rather than get mad, Shanty flips onto a box, gesturing to Pom but mainly to herself. "It's my fate! I'll find the greatest treasure of all and prove myself. No one will stop me!" With a sparkle in her eye she then inquires, "Ya gwine stop me?"

"Nae, definitely not! The last thing I want is tae fight."

"So just stay out of my way."

The pirate-to-be stretches her legs, then lies down on some straw—straw Pom intended to sleep on. Pom instead looks out the window of the ship, clutching the letter and hoping everything goes smoothly from this point on.

Faintly in the distance, Pom sees a glowing purple fin. With a light, awkward chuckle she says to herself, "Oh, that's... probably nothing..."

Author's Note

In the actual game Them's Fightin' Herds, Shanty has an extremely noticeable Jamaican dialect, speaking bilingually between English and Jamaican Patois. As somebody with no ties to the American islands I felt hesitant to include it, even writing a draft of the chapter without use of Patois, but it was determined to not properly represent the character. I've since tried my best to incorporate it to a minor degree, but I'm not certain the online sources I checked were entirely accurate themselves.

If anybody reading this is more familiar with Patois than I, and notices major mistakes with how it is used in Shanty's dialogue, I would massively appreciate being corrected, either through a public comment or DM. Thank you.

Chapter 9 — Trust Issues (Huoshan II)

When did it get so hot...

Every traveler, tourist and trespasser who isn't warned about it in advance is blown away by the sudden temperature increase upon breaching Huoshan's great wall. The immense heat from the volcano's magma rises, and the wall prevents lava from running down the mountainside; there's enough of a rise at the shore for travelers to notice, and it's easy to assume that's the full effect of the volcano.

Pom, having made it atop the great wall, has had that illusion entirely shattered. The sweltering heat nearly knocked her over when it hit her, and never before has she been so grateful to still have only her baby fleece.

More oppressive than the heat is the crowd. Word spreads fast in a small empire, and the 'fight' between Huoreshi and the lieutenant only helped. Dozens of longma colored like the rainbow stare on, none of them having ever seen a sheep before. Despite knowing better about longma, the scores of snake eyes fixated on her position instinctively makes Pom's skin crawl.

Huoreshi quickly shoos them off, instructing them to return to their positions, and while some linger to get one last stare most of the guards and soldiers fly off without a hassle. Pom's heart settles down.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"

Pom's heart soars straight into her throat at the screech of a longma. The last guards exit, leaving only two in the crowd. Zhongweiran stands unamused, listening to the frenzied screaming of his subordinate. His scales are black, but covering the entire length of his body are intricate green and purple swirls. It's a giant tapestry of fire from his hooves to his neck, only obscured by the uniform. The sight is alarming, to say the least.

Straining to maintain some calmness and defuse whatever is going on, Zhongweiran states "I suggest you stop giving me lip now, soldier. If she's not here, she's not here, I don't care what she promised you. There are more important things in Foenum right now, and you'll just have to wait a couple months."

A second, even harsher screech rings out in response as green flames burst from the longma's body. "MONTHS?!"

"I said watch your tone!" snaps the lieutenant, shunting him. "Where do you think you are?"

Pom's attention is diverted from the scuffle as Huoreshi steps into view. "Let those two brutes sort it out, we have important things to talk about." she says. Pom, happy to oblige, scampers after the serpentine longma—as do the lumbering dogs after her. Both of the bickering soldiers snap in Pom's direction. Zhongweiran stands on alert but immediately relaxes.

The other one looks Pom dead in the eye. Pom freezes at the longma's death glare; it's not normal. Even for a longma the malice is clear, whatever Pom did upsets him to his core. Worse still are the eyes themselves—behind the neon green irises, unlike every longma Pom's seen, are black sclera.

The lieutenant picks up on this odd reaction and grabs hold of his head, turning it away from the lamb. "I don't know what that was but don't shoot the messenger," he scolds in an uncharacteristically hush tone. Pom remains frozen still, long enough to catch one last side eye from the black one, until Huoreshi gets impatient and tugs on Pom's collar. The group runs off, leaving the crimson lieutenant to continue raking his junior.

The architecture of Huoshan is like nothing else in Foenum. Taller pillars than any ungulate-made structure Pom had ever seen, and from what can be seen every single one has been decoratively carved, topped with walkways even longer than the spiral Pom had to ascend. The same obsidian brickwork from the spiral makes up the streets beneath Pom's hooves, the lanterns from before forming an inner ring by what what Pom considers a concerningly tiny fence to stop people from falling to the rocks below. Maybe that's not a large risk when everyone can fly, she supposes.

"If there's anything at all you are curious about," says Huoreshi as she leads the way, "I would be more than happy to indulge you." Her hooves lightly kick off the ground as she walks; underneath her professional demeanor there is a barely restrained spring in the longma's step.

"What is... that?"

The historian looks at what Pom is referring to, and stops. With a grin, she answers "That is Heaven's Perch." Across the open mouth of the volcano stands a spire, naturally formed, with the glowing outline of a temple precariously balanced atop. The two gaze at it, a wonder of the world to Pom's eyes. "What's it for?"
"I can show you tomorrow morning."

"I am not crossing that!"

"This is the quickest way, please. I promise it is safe."

"No! That's lava! There's not even a guardrail!"

All attempts at pleading useless, Huoreshi relents. "If you insist. We can take the long way."

Pom relaxes, still looking anxiously at a narrow bridge suspended directly over the mouth of Huoshan's volcano. It's a long walk, but it gives her the chance to better soak in how unlike anything else this place is. Houses are built directly into the unusual rock formations surrounding the volcano... is what Pom had thought from a distance. They have the shapes of houses, at least, and the longma seem to 'live' there, but to call it a house would be ridiculous. A single pole juts out from a crevice, a roof above it. It's impossible to see what's inside that crevice, probably just the longma's belongings. Is the pole where they sleep?

There are uniformed soldiers here and there, but that's all. No matter what they're doing, every longma seems to be working, doing some task, carrying something to another place.

Until, near the destination, one runs up to Pom.

"What are you?" says a squeaky voice. Pom inaudibly gasps.

A big-eyed, stubby-limbed longma looks up at the lamb. It's completely bald—or lacking fire, rather. It stands there, mouth open, stubby little fangs visible.

An unexpected warmth fills Pom's heart looking at it, the kind she gets looking at a puppy. "Hello. I'm Pom."

"What's a Pom?" the child asks, circling around Pom to get a better look.

"'S my name. I'm a sheep."

"What are those?" The child fearlessly approaches the dogs behind Pom.

"Oh, those are my pups!"

The tiny longma bends down in front of Woof. It receives a sloppy kiss in return, prompting it to spit out an ember in surprise.

Pom looks on with a smile, enjoying these two predator-adjacent creatures getting along. She smiles until she's suddenly pushed out of the way by Huoreshi, who scoops the child up in a panic. "You get back to the nurser right now!" she scolds, pushing and prodding the child in one direction until they go down a staircase to where they presumably should be. Huoreshi returns to Pom, biting her lip before sharply inhaling and saying, "Forgive me but please do not speak to the younglings. We do not want them to develop bad impressions early in development."

"Did I do something wrong?" Pom tilts her head.

"Ye- no, but- you did not do anything wrong but it is something we wish to avoid here."

"I dinnae understand."

Huoreshi bites her lip again. After a moment, she faces forward and continues walking. "It's a matter of our culture, please be understanding." Pom can't understand a thing, but drops the subject.

When they arrive, Pom is politely told "this area of Huoshan is entirely grounded, I can promise you. I've spoken with many foreigners—though never the Sheeple—and none have complained. You have nothing to fear."

Where did all that come from? "Thanks, I guess." Pom says. She enters a doorway carved into the stone; there are no candles, lanterns, or any other kind of light source indoors. Pom stops, instinct telling her to hold still and wait for the pack to catch up with her.
Which she realizes, after a score of seconds, has not happened.

Without a thought Pom runs outside, all manner of betrayals playing in her head.
They separated me from me flock so they could pick me off!
They don't trust the dogs so they set off to eliminate them while she wasn't looking!
It was all a long con, Tianhuo in on it, so they could get fresh mutton!

None of these things are the case, but the reality isn't much better.

"Wh-What are ye doing?!"

Several soldiers, busy unsuccessfully corralling Pom's entourage somewhere, perform an about face in surprise. How did such a loud shout come from this tiny lamb?

"Leave my pups alone!" Pom stammers. All six dogs stampede to their owner, trampling the pair of longma.

"Aghh..."

"Guest, please!" a voice shouts. Pom looks up at Huoreshi overseeing the others. "We are going to watch your animals while you speak with me."

"What? I... no. No way!"

"There is nothing to be afraid of."

"There really, really is!" Pom points to one of the guards, still on the ground after being stomped on by Papa, and asks, "What do you know about takin' care o' pups?!"

"Stay out of their path?" he grunts.

"I promise you it will be fine." assures Huoreshi once more.

"How?"

"Well we— we—"

The historian lands, hoof to her chin for a moment. "I promise on behalf of the Empress that it will be alright." she declares.

"...what if the Empress told ye tae hurt my pups?"

"H-Hahaha, what are you implying about Our Magnanimous Ruler?" Huoreshi blurts out, forcing a crooked smile to hide the indignation. The two other longma lack such restraint, immediately scowling. The concern Pom feels from this wordlessly turns her pack on the defensive. Not wanting a repeat of earlier Pom does her best to backpedal.

"Sorry, it's just I've not met her. If yer lying, I'd be gone when ye did... whatever, tae them."

Like the sun peeking from the clouds Huoreshi's attitude clears up with the apology. With her previous formalities she resumes, "Mm, I wish I could better assuage your fears but I am unsure why you're so fearful in the first place."

How can you not tell?! bounces around Pom's skull hard enough to give her a headache. Is all this really normal here? They tried making me walk over lava and I'm the one who's—

It's not their fault, they're raised here and probably hadn't even thought about it. I need to trust them, I trusted Tianhuo.

Pom pushes a bit of bile back down her throat and pushes those nightmare scenarios to the back of her mind. "Okay. Ye can take care o' them."

"Excellent!" Huoreshi beams, tapping the ground. "Let us not delay then." She proceeds into the building; her keen hearing picks up a lack of hoofbeats behind her, however, and with an annoyed sigh she exits.

"You make sure they have water! Every fifteen minutes check if they need water!" Pom dictates to the soldiers.

"Of course, ma'am."

"And they need something soft to lay on! This ground is rough, it's not good for 'em!"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ye better not forget the water!"

"We will not, ma'am." One soldier turns her head and rolls her eyes.

"Are you ready yet?" Huoreshi asks as cordially as her impatience will permit her.

"Just a sec!" begs Pom. She walks into the pile of dogs, patting them one by one. "All ye be good, ken? Set a good impression for me. It won't be long." With reluctance in their eyes the dogs agree, surrounding the increasingly nervous guards to be escorted. Pom finally follows Huoreshi into the building, only stopping to take one forlorn look back—

Woof didn't listen to her. Rather than a good impression he's much more invested in leaving bite marks on that poor longma's legs.

"Woof, here boy!" Pom calls.

"I really think we are fine, there's no need to micromanage them."

"He's coming with us." says Pom while the puppy catches up, nearly tripping over himself as he stops at Pom's hooves.

"That is a lot to demand of us. The point of not bringing them here is to not disturb those within the building."

"He's too young tae be separated, though. Wilnae even listen to commands. It's not safe tae leave him out there."

There's no use trying to argue this further when her goal is so close. Huoreshi represses a groan and budges. "If it stays close to you, then that is fine."

Every hallway is pitch-black—or it was before Huoreshi entered them, emitting enough light to make the signs at each doorway readable. Readable for her at least, written in that script only the longma seem to know. As Pom descends several floors beneath the surface yet another wave of panic creeps up on her. Should something happen, there would be no means to escape this place on her own. But, that won't happen, right? She trusts the people of Huoshan to act in good faith. She just needs to keep telling herself that.

Pom does trust Huoreshi, at least. With no watchful eyes of bureaucracy bearing down on her she's free to make her glee known, the noodly longma nearly skipping down the halls.

"We are almost ready, I merely need to take a few measurements." Huoreshi says with the same polite demeanor as always, in contrast to her body language. After a quick height measurement, one hoofprint, body length, leg length, neck length, abdomen circumference, the three other hoofprints, pompadour girth—

"Is this all necessary?" asks Pom. "At this rate yer gonna know me better than I know myself."

"Just covering my bases while I can," the historian assures as she tries her best to measure Pom's width with a tapeline. "It is a shame the scale was broken though, the needle hardly moved."

"Looked accurate tae me."

"You Sheeple have a wonderful sense of humor."

At last Pom's eyes are relieved as she enters a room with several lit candles, no longer having to rely on the flames produced by longma to see. The smooth stone floors of the building are for the first time interrupted by some kind of fabric floor, too sleek to be a carpet but with just enough cushion that it's okay to lay upon. The room is furnished with many shelves, but the only piece of furniture is one very oblong table stretching nearly end-to-end in one axis. Pom's not quite sure how far beneath the surface she is, but it's enough for the temperature to drop to something tolerable. She cannot help but think about how her poor pups must be panting up there, though.

Huoreshi shuts the door, a visible flame erupting from her nostrils as she sighs with relief. Walking to the end of the room, she calmly slips out of her uniform. Pom is quick to notice the longma's flames almost entirely die out as she grabs a stack of papers, roaring back to life after they're set down near Pom on an elongated table. A glance is all it takes to see the little text on the front page is written in that foreign longma script, but it's not for Pom after all; with a pen in mouth Huoreshi puts the full weight of her body on the table, laying her body all the way to where she had placed her parchment. There's a slight wriggle as she gets comfortable followed by one final, concerted effort of a stretch that arches her body backward. She finishes, puts her back hooves on the table, and looks at Pom with a wide smile—and with that predatory longma stare.

"I cannot express my excitement for what is to be learned today."

At least several dozen feet beneath the surface, in a room only illuminated by flame, Pom sits across a fiery half-predator with nowhere to go. I actually let this happen again. flashes in her mind.

"I heard you announce yourself as Pom. I have been in such a rush that I failed to ask, could I please get your full name and title?"

"It's just, Pom." says Pom. To preempt the followup question she tacks on "That's my full name. We dinnae have 'titles' in the Meadow, but I guess I'm, well, Champion of the Meadow."

Huoreshi nods, jotting it down. "Was this title of champion appointed to you by your chief wolf, or did you declare it for yourself?"

"'Twas the flock that made me—chief wolf? What?" Pom leans in, ready to inquire before a hoof is raised to stop her.

"Ah! Getting ahead of myself, I see. Do the wolves openly rule you or is it more similar to the ice sprites' covert lordship over the deerfolk?"

"What?"

Huoreshi blinks a couple times, before better phrasing it. "How would you describe the Sheeple's relationship with the wolves?"

"What?"

Huoreshi blinks several times. "Forgive me but I need one moment." She scratches her forehead, unable to parse the lamb's response. Were the wolves' takeover even more subtle than what was written down?

"Indeterminate Champion of the Meadow Pom, let us begin again with more simple questions. How do you feel about wolves?"

Pom's brow furrows and she answers without an ounce of hesitation. "They're awful. If I could I'd not see one again."

"I... see? Well, how about the small one beside you? How do you feel about it?"

"Woof?" Pom looks down at the pup, halfway asleep, face buried in her wool. "O' course I love him. He's—"

Pom's face tenses. Her ears begin twitching in distress. A tiny voice encourages her to begin shouting, though she can quickly pushes it out. With a stony stare Pom locks eyes with Huoreshi and states, "he's not a wolf. They're not wolves."

The longma's gears whirr to no avail. The mental picture of speaking with a species not seen for so long, gathering all the missing information and publishing it to Our Link To Godliness The Empress, all crumbles as Huoreshi's script disappears in a puff of smoke.

"If they are not wolves then—"

"They're not wolves. They're dogs."

"There is no need to split hairs, Indeterminate Champion Pom."

Woof's peaceful kip is ripped apart when Pom stands. The pup is jostled at how angry Pom seems, ducking his head. "I know what a wolf is. Have ye ever seen a wolf?"

The answer is no, Huoreshi has never even left the volcano, but she must deflect. "Are you sure you have seen a 'wolf'?"

"I nearly died tae one! Tae several! They barely look alike!" Pom shouts, her confusion at the initial encounter forgotten.

"There is no need to raise your voice." Huoreshi says hoping to deescalate the situation. "Let's please continue the interview—"

"Say they're not wolves."

"They are not wolves. Who would you say does control Baaah? The w- the dogs?"

"The will o' the flock decides everything, we're not controlled."

Huoreshi grimaces at Pom's tone, no less harsh than a moment ago. "Yes, there are mentions of this 'will of the flock' in the information we have on the Sheeple. I expected it to be outdated given how it sounds, but to be sure could you describe it?"

"Every sheep old enough tae work gets a vote. When something needs tae change everyone goes tae the hall and we vote."

"Do the dogs decide what needs to be voted on?"

"Wha— no? They cannae even talk."

This is going so poorly. What am I doing to warrant such an attitude? thinks Huoreshi. Shuffling her papers she decides to relax her grip on the situation, and hopefully relax Pom. "Perhaps I should fix my preconceptions. Could you tell me an ordinary day for you in Baaah?"

"Ordinary?" It feels like her 'ordinary' life was several lifetimes ago, with how much has happened in just a few days. Still, the memories flow instantly. "I'd... I'd wake up, take the pups out for a walk. Ha'e a meal, see if there were any Hall meetings. Or, well, I'd only been to a couple before I left, but that's the idea." Huoreshi nods along, jotting everything down as Pom continues. "Do my chores, then..."

Huoreshi stops writing and looks up, curious at why Pom trailed off. "Go on." she says, but Pom shakes her head. Straightening up a bit Huoreshi pushes further, "I am very invested in what you have to say."

"After my chores I just... played."

"You did not do anything after your chores?"

"It's not nothing, it's..."

Pom interrupts herself. "Do ye let the children play here?"

"We keep our younglings on a busy schedule to promote our cultural—"

"But it'd just be nice if ye let them have a little fun—"

She is interrupted by the harsh sound of the longma clearing her throat. "Are you intending to say you know better than Our Empress on how to enrich our own people?"

"I-I," Pom stammers. Huoreshi's posture had straightened, a slight glint of vexation from her countenance. Immediately every fiber in Pom's body shouts, pleads even, to drop it and let her continue questioning until Pom is allowed to leave. It's so easy not to do it, and the consequences of speaking one's mind has already been demonstrated: it's why Pom is here and not continuing the idyllic life she was a moment ago describing.

Pom just needs to apologize as previous and everything will go away.

"It's important." escape from her lips. No no no why did I do that?! Maybe she'll drop it, maybe she doesn't want to do this either.

With the same formality as usual Huoreshi replies "Go on." Any attempts from her speech to sound polite are betrayed by her expression and posture, though, her annoyance clear as day.

"I didn't mean it. I promise."

"It is my job to get as much information from your visit as I can. Your culture's outlook on ours is just as useful as what happened after the banishment of the predators. If not even moreso. Please, go on."

Pom's inner thoughts plea for silence, despite how clear it's too late for that. Tianhuo gave her one job, don't disrespect their culture. Or it was two jobs rather, but the letter is delivered already. Now that Pandora's Basket is opened, however, all Pom can do is tread carefully and not make things worse.

The damage is probably done anyway, she thinks to herself. "If..."

Huoreshi nods along, ready to scribe.

"If, well, if yer all work and no play, ye," she pauses, "ye miss out. You can um, learn a lot from it, ye know?"

"Could you care to justify your claim?"

You're backing yourself into a corner, Pom. Just calm down. "When I was wee, we had a group of Graze Scouts in Baaah, and I got tae join them for a bit. It was me, and Moira, and Toffee, and Isabaa, and..." Pom trails off, noticing Huoreshi stopped writing. With a quick shake of her head she gets back on track, "and we went into the woods tae camp. But we got lost, and Moira ran off lookin' for the adults, and then the others went in different directions, and there weren't enough dogs to protect everyone so I was just... alone."

Huoreshi waits a moment in case Pom was about to continue, but receiving silence asks, "And what did you learn from this?"

"Not done yet." Pom says, trying harder to focus on the story she means to tell. "I was by myself, if I went anywhere I'd just get more lost, so I just stayed put. But then, there was a scream! And I should'a just stayed put, but I didnae. And Woolsey twisted—Woolsey was with us—Woolsey twisted his ankle! An' his pup was crying an' I started cryin' an' it was just the worst."

Huoreshi does her best to follow along as Pom continues the rambling tale, her fellow lamb eventually being found and everyone being rescued, but not without another two detours from the storyteller. She is very, very patient throughout all of this, holding her question until she hears the "and that's what happened." at the end.

"Yes." Huoreshi nods. "What was the moral of this story?"

"Huh? Don't wander off without a guide dog, don't run into strange parts alone, that sorta thing."

"Are those things you could not be told directly by a mentor figure?"

Pom's eyes shift a bit. "Well... maybe, but I also learned a bit o' first aid after, so I could do something if it happened again."

"What was stopping you from being taught first aid as part of a curriculum?"

"Well I mean there's... nothing, I guess." Pom taps her chin several times, now unconvinced of her own story. Then there's a gasp and Pom replies, "If it hadn't happened I'd not've known I wanted to learn it."

"But you still could have been taught it."

Pom begins to say something in refutation but stops, unable to form any words. Huoreshi gets up from the table, stretching her legs before approaching Pom. "You must understand, Meadow's Elective For Foenum's Champion Pom. A well-balanced upbringing will teach you everything you could need. I understand the shorter lives of the Sheeple might put more pressure on maturing quickly—"

What does she mean by short lives?

"—but you will find that curating one's experiences and taking one's time to promote a culturally healthy outlook, as well as teaching all required skills, will make an ungulate going into adulthood much more confident, empathetic, and able to pursue their desires much more easily. I am the only historian in Huoshan, but all longma are taught Foenum's history. I did not choose to fight, but I was taught all I would need to defend myself.
"If your culture adopted practices similar to those Her Reverence The Empress has imparted on Honored Mother's children, you would feel much more prepared for the journey you have found yourself on, would you not agree?"

Squirming where she sits Pom rallies back with "Hey now, that's—" —completely correct, I'm out of my depth, I'm BEYOND out of my depth, no one told me I'd have to do ANY of this—! "—not the nicest way to put things. 'S not like you dinnae have bad eggs, like that guy screaming earlier."

"Do not worry yourself about that one. He needs guidance, as you were already able to ascertain. It is a work-in-progress. But he is an extreme case nevertheless."

"I'm just saying, you have a point but ye don't ha'e tae go so far. Maybe some of you would be nicer if ye played once in a while."

"You are being extremely rude here, Pom." The lack of an awkward-sounding title aside, it is only now that Pom notices how close Huoreshi is to her, as she smells the light puff of smoke exhaled from the longma's nostrils. There's no longer any veneer of politeness; she is upset and Pom has done something very wrong.

Pom forces out a chuckle before asking "Yer not mad, are you?"

"It is part of my job not to be mad." she says sternly.

"But yer not mad?"

"I am fine."

She is really mad, Pom thinks to herself. She nervously eyes the door, an action noticed by Huoreshi. She probably can't outrun her if she made a break for it, and she's probably run into a wall even if she was faster.

Wait, why am I worried about running away? It's fine. She said it's fine. You can just ask—

"Can I leave?" Pom asks.

"But we have barely spoken!" says Huoreshi.

"Yeah but I," Pom begins, hesitating to think of an excuse, "wannae make sure the pups are okay." A simple, good, not untrue excuse—but, to Pom's horror, the wrong one.

"First you insult the character of our people, and now you insult our abilities to do simple tasks?"

"N-No, of course not!" Pom exclaims, staring up at Huoreshi. Somehow, perhaps just her unique body type, she's even more intimidating on her haunches, craning her spine like the neck of a serpent. "It's just that you've never taken care of a dog before! 'S harder than ye might think, lots of trouble they can cause, promise!"

"Perhaps you should check on them after all. I think the both of us could use a break."

"I'm real, real sorry for offending ye like I did."

"I am trained not to get offended. I am fine." It's a lie, both of them can tell, but Huoreshi does her best not to show it with a neutral expression.

"It's just not been the best experience so far here. I'm sure this place is really nice in the winter! But right now it's just hot, and my pups are stressed by all the predators—"

"Half-predators." Huoreshi insists, voice slightly raised.

"Half-predators!" echoes Pom. "Yer all great people, I know that! But then that one longma who gave me that awful look—"

"He was an apprentice not exemplary of our culture." Like a kettle approaching a boil Huoreshi continues to get ever-so-slightly louder. Completely aware of this, but her mouth outrunning her mind, Pom cannot help but let out her frustrations further.

"And then there was that dreadful one who just treated me like I was a nuisance, flew down at me, nearly killed me, called my boys 'wolves,' called me a counterfeiter, tried tae make me leave, then wouldn't let me leave, och! That Zong-Wan guy—"

A flash of pink light blinds Pom, finally cutting her off. She turns in the direction of the door but trips over Woof, ridding her of any sense of orientation. Her hearing is perfectly fine, however, allowing her to understand every word to come.

"You don't know him! You don't know anything about Zhongweiran! Do not talk about him!"

It takes a few moments for Huoreshi to come to her senses. The awful red tint lingers moments longer, just long enough to inform her that she had surrendered herself to instinct, however brief it was.

The subtle tingling of a bell snaps her attention to the victim of her instinct, eyes like pin pricks, lying on her back and shaking like a leaf in the wind. It's humbling, being reminded of what one's blood can reduce them to when their mind allows it to, but it's the other sound that allows her actions to really sink in.
Standing above Pom, in his best imitation of a fighting stance, is her pup Woof. He musters the harshest growls and snarls his underdeveloped vocal chords can produce, a feeble effort to ward Huoreshi off from what he assumes is an immediate threat on Pom's life. It's clear to Huoreshi that he couldn't win in a direct fight with her, the last thing she would want to invoke right now, but he stands there with every intention to put his life on the line.

He is definitely not a wolf.

The lamb attempts to say something, only producing a shaky string of vowels. All thoughts toward apologies Huoreshi dashes forward to help Pom up, only to send her recoiling and Woof into a frenzy of threats. Pom's eyes dart erratically in every direction and she is able to form a sentence: "I'm gonna check on the dogs."

"Champion of the Meadow Pom you must understand the background behind my actions," Huoreshi begins.

"I need tae see my pups." Pom repeats, standing and barely maintaining balance as she involuntarily trembles.

"To be a longma is to have two sides pull at you. All of childhood and adolescence we are taught to maintain this balance but given the wrong circumstance we can tip too far into cowardice or rage. Even I am capable of this, please do not fear me." Huoreshi continues on like this, but it all falls on deaf ears as Pom pulls on the handle of the door, too consumed by fear to notice the latch. Huoreshi quickly nudges the latch with a hoof and the door swings wide, the longma noticing an instant too late the hoofbeats on the other side—

"There you are, perfect timing. I've got something to say to you, sheep!"

No. No. Why now? Huoreshi thinks as any last control of the situation slips away. It is Zhongweiran, an uncharacteristic smile on his face.

The idea of him having good news does not have the time to cross Pom's mind. The instant she processes his existence here Pom sprints past him, thoughts all but ceasing. Her hooves act on their own, turning her body to the right and up the stairs. Her face hits the wall, but she quickly feels her surroundings out and continues down the next hallway.

"What in the Empress's name have you done, soldier?!" Zhongweiran shouts. Woof runs between his legs after Pom as Huoreshi tells him to do the same, visions of her most important tourist tripping and falling into the volcano flickering in her head. It is possibly the first time a longma has considered how short the fencing around its mouth really is.

Pom loses herself in the pitch blackness of the underground, but catches sight of the path out when the yellow flames of the lieutenant illuminate the area. Fast as he is, Pom rushes out of the building with the help of his illuminating glow. The sudden sunlight forces Pom's eyes shut but does nothing to stop her locomotion. When her eyes finally do adjust it takes once glance behind, a glance at both Zhongweiran and Huoreshi tailing her, to convince her not to look back again. She speeds past the exact pair of guards she saw take her dogs away, but time does not permit her to ask for directions.

"You two, after her!" shouts their crimson superior at them.

"What is going on?" one shouts back.

"I'll tell you when I find out, just get her!"

With no sense of where the sheepdogs may be Pom runs aimlessly, only hoping to keep her distance up. Never looking back, it's not until physical contact is made that Pom learns out outmatched she is. A failed attempt to grab her sends her tumbling. As she rolls over Pom is able to see Zhongweiran landing with a skid, shouting at the top of his lungs "Nobody's here to hurt you, just stay put before you hurt yourself!" He gallops to contain her only for Pom to slip out of his hooves running perpendicular to where she was going before.

"She's not running toward the volcano anymore. Soldiers, take to the skies! Find points where you can cut her off and then cut her off! I do not know what our Enlightened Historian did to spook her but it's on all of us if she gets hurt!"

"It was your rough treatment of the poor thing that made her so frightful in the first place!" protests Huoreshi.

"We can talk about it later!"

The four of them leap into the air in unison, taking different flight paths but all of them focused on the lamb. They all see her stop for a moment, having an extremely rushed conversation with a rookie passing by, and see him point in a direction she immediately pursues; she's running toward the armory her six sheepdogs were herded to, something Huoreshi exclaims she knew Pom was going to do. If for no other reason than she was told as much. All of them converge at the entrance, creating a blockade that spectacularly fails to stop the runaway sheep. The longma collectively assumed their presence would force Pom to slow down and avoid collision, and not run at them with the full force her featherweight frame can create. The sturdy Zhongweiran finds himself knocked several inches backward, just enough for his hooves to be pushed over the top stair. Together with Pom he falls uncontrollably down the flight, the woolly sheep landing atop him in a daze.

"Okay now stop!" he screams.

"Don't kill me!" Pom cries, energy mostly spent at this point. "Please don't kill me!"

"Who wants to kill you?!"

"All of you!"

'We are not predators and we are not savages!"

All Pom can do is howl in agony, the desire for protection and safety overriding all else. Zhongweiran talks over her, telling her that she is safe, that her fears are unfounded, but nothing he does breaches her wailing.

Everyone at the stairway hears a second howl from further inside the armory, followed by a third and more still. Like a moth to the flame Pom resumes her mad dash, slipping out of longma's grasp again. A green glow down the hall gives her enough light to find her way and make it to the source.

The sight is traumatizing.

Ruff, Tuft and Puff, sharing a cage.
Big Mama, forced in a cage clearly too small for her.
Big Papa, digging his heels as he's shoved halfway into a cage even less accommodating to his size.
And the screaming longma with scales draped with vibrant markings, doing the shoving.

"Get in there!" he orders with a failed push to move the much larger dog. The growling and grunting emitted by Papa do nothing to deter him, and Pom watches in shock as a flare from the longma's mouth scorches Papa from behind, eliciting a yelp.

The longma feels a shove of his own from behind, indignantly turning to Pom. Choking back tears and barely able to form the words she screams into his face "WHATAREYOUDOING?" She strikes him in the face with one hoof, as hard as the little lamb can. The longma isn't afforded the time to respond before Papa backs out of the cage, immediately focused on putting distance between Pom and that black-scaled brute.

"Och, please tell me yer alright Papa." Pom says, examining the newly made singe mark. A soft bark tells her he's fine, and she unlocks the other cages with haste. She takes a head count to make sure everyone, Woof included, is fine, then looks back at the longma.

It's that same stare. Visceral, incoherently hateful. Pom's heart skips a beat when she makes eye contact. It's a look of killing intent, she might describe it.

That look is wiped from the longma's face as Zhongweiran mimics Pom by smacking him with full force, which for him is enough to send the junior reeling across the room.

"Yanwufen, what is your malfunction?! Do you realize how many centuries you may have just driven our relationship with the rest of Foenum back?! Do you think Honored Father would be proud watching you abuse a living being like that?!"

"They're predators." Yanwufen says defiantly, prompting a strike from the other hoof.

"I oughta lock you in a tight cage. You're not fit to be called soldier, soldier! I will see to it whoever put you on this job is punished, and they will smile the entire while because they won't have to go through what you will!"

Putting every dog on alert Zhongweiran performs an about face. "I can completely understand your fears now that they have been realized." he says, kneeling. "From the bottom of my heart I hope you can forgive us, Ambassador Pom."

Both Pom and the longma named Yanwufen stand straight at the announcement, shouting in unison. "Ambassador?"

Chapter 10—Ambassador? (Huoshan III)

"Ambassador?" Pom asks for a second time.

"Your hearing does not fail you, Ambassador Pom." says Zhongweiran.

"Nononono," she rattles off, "I only came here tae give ye the letter."

With a nod he explains. "And it has been given to Our Wonderful Empress, yes. In it it is declared, with gusto, that you are Ambassador of the Sheeple."

Pom paces halfway around the room, a light jingle accompanying her nervous movement. "There's gotta be a mistake here, I'm sure."

"There is no mistake!" the lieutenant orders.

"Tianhuo cannae give me that title! She must've misunderstood something I said."

"I have read the letter, there is no misunderstanding! It was suggested by our Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of the Guard, and then it was made official by Her Majesty. You are Ambassador."

"But, but there wasn't even a vote!"

"What are you on about—" begins Zhongweiran when Huoreshi leans into him. A quick whisper from her prompts an exclamation of "But how do they get anything done?!" The historian shrugs.

"We have to take this to a hall, nae, the Chamber of Commons if 's as big as this. I'd have tae go back there myself so I could participate in the vote—"

"You're Ambassador! It's an honor!"

"No, no," Pom repeats. She reflexively glances at the exit, something immediately picked up by the dogs. Ruff and Puff both step in front of her, pawing for some attention. She stoops down to pet them, adding "I just don't ha'e the authority, really."

"Yes you do, now! That is exactly the point of the title being bestowed!" he shouts, loudly smacking his forehead.

"Calm down, Zhongweiran." Huoreshi says, taking over. "Ambassador Pom, I am very pleased to find this out. If the Empress Herself has decided you deserve it, there is no higher authority on the planet who can contradict Her declaration."

"I'm real glad you think that, but that's just not how it's done. And I don't wanna take the responsibility."

"I assure you there will be no heavy responsibilities, Ambassador Pom. Based on what I know it will mostly be communication"

"That's still a lot of responsibility." said Pom, "I already messed that up today."

"Do not let my reaction earlier sour how much I enjoy having you here, Ambassador. When you are feeling up to it I would love—"

"Ahem." the lieutenant coughs discretely. Rolling her eyes the historian meets his gaze and awaits a response. "We may not have the time for that." he says.

"And why not?" Huoreshi asks, but to no immediate answer. With a grimace he jerks his neck toward the hallway, a clear invitation for Huoreshi to follow. She sighs, excuses herself and goes with him.

Pom looks over Big Papa's coat once more as she waits for Huoreshi's return. There's nothing serious at all to the injury, but the large dog recoils at being touched. Not a single thing was done by him to deserve this, and the thought that Pom could have prevented it by refusing to leave them makes her shudder a bit. Valid or ont, she cannot shake the thought that she failed her dogs.

"Captain made her Ambassador." comes from Yanwufen in a low mutter. Pom twists her head in an instantaneous motion at him; the longma lies prone staring at the floor blankly, stewing in a field of negativity powerful enough to dissociate him from the scene. Pom feels a flump from her heart at his state, snapping between him and the pups he moments ago was terrorizing.

"Hey." Pom speaks softly, audible to only her. With no response, she says it slightly louder, but still not enough to grab his attention.

Unthinkingly, she taps the bridge of his nose. His paralyzing neon glare immediately fills Pom with regret and she dashes backward into a wriggling mass of fur. Frozen with fright for a moment, the sensation of a nose nudging her back into the fray gives her enough courage to speak.

"Y-You," Pom stammers. "What's wrong with you?"

A smolder juts from his nostrils, the entire rest of his body as motionless as before.

"I-I-I mean! Is something wrong with ye? I mean—" Pom shakes the nerves out of her with the ring of her bell and spurts out, "Did I do something wrong tae you? Yanwu." At this, the longma silently rises, keeping his gaze affixed. "I'm just askin' cause, it's, my dogs ye know?" Pom continues, already looking for more space to back into. "We didnae meet but even when ye saw me first ye looked—"

Pom hits the polished stone wall. Without a command her pack let her slip on by, giving her a valuable shield. The low growls around the longma fail to divert his attention for a tick.

"Yanwufen." he corrects. Pom mouths it silently and nods. Yanwufen opens his mouth to speak further.

"That's great! Oh but it's terrible! But it's great, but..." Huoreshi shouts from down the hall.

Everyone stops and listens to the approaching hoofbeats. Two shadows approach, one twice as tall as the other and the other twice as long. Huoreshi comes into view first, a troubled smile on her face. "Ambassador Pom," she says tepidly, "I have news." She paws at the ground as she says, "it's very big news, for you. As well as for us."

"Rip off the bandage, soldier." Zhongweiran says from behind her.

"Don't you 'soldier' me." she snips with a short glare. "Ambassador, it has been decided that you, are, to, have a big opportunity that no living Sheeple has ever had before!"

"I'd rather not..." Pom bemoans.

"But you do not know what it is yet! And it is, well..."

"That is enough, I will tell her. Amabassador!" The lieutenant steps in front. "Her Fiery Highness, the Daughter of Heaven, Empress of Ten Thousand Years the Longestma, has summoned you. In two days' time you shall meet Her."

Ideas ping back and forth on the best and most polite way for Pom to decline. A simple 'no' may suffice but she'd probably have to explain why, and 'because that's scary' wouldn't be convincing at all. She could say she's too eager to get back home. Use the heat as an excuse. It's not for Pom's sake but the pups and their thick coats. Maybe that'll work—

"Absolutely not!" Yanwufen hisses in front of her. "You think she deserves to see Our Empress?!"

"Another word and I will bust your jaw." A large hoof is placed by Zhongweiran on Yanwufen's snout and force is applied downward. The longma puts up an attempt to resist but in no time at all is put into an unwilling bowing position. His rear legs twitch with the thought of stepping away, but eye contact is made and the threat of punishment keeps him in place. "Not a sound." Zhongweiran says. "Any slight against our Ambassador will not be tolerated. As far as you are to be concerned, sisheng, she has the same authority as Captain of the Guard Tianhuo. And I know you would never say that about the Captain, so I expect you to give the same treatment to our new friend."

"Can I say something?" Pom asks.

"Not now, soldie—Ambassador." he says, fixated on his task. "This is some overdue discipline."

"What if I say no? Tae being Ambassador, tae seeing the Empress."

Zhongweiran jerks in Pom's direction, slamming his hoof, and Yanwufen's head, onto the floor. "As we have told you, it has already been decided."

"Dinnae I have a say?"

"Of course, if you say 'yes.' Followed by a 'thank you.'"

"There's nae any offense when I say it, but, I don't wanna. I... really don't wanna."

"Then you can tell Her yourself in two days' time."

"She cannot tell Her that!" Huoreshi pipes up. "I could not imagine what would happen."

"W-What'd happen?" Pom asks.

"Nothing, I assure." says Huoreshi. "Her Fiery Majesty would never do anything to harm you or anyone. She only has the good of both Baaah and Huoshan in mind with Her actions."

"I—" Yanwufen gets out through gritted teeth before the hoof pushes down harder onto him.

"Please release him." the historian says, and Zhongweiran reluctantly lets up. As Yanwufen rises, Huoreshi addresses him. "Whatever your reasons are to misbehave, I believe the place to start going forward is an apology." She gestures to Pom and says, "Yanwufen, please tell Pom that you are sorry for what you did to her dogs."

The black-eyed longma looks at Pom, saying nothing. He turns back to his snakelike superior, looking at her face and then drifting his eyes downward.

"Nice heart." he remarks.

Huoreshi's eyes widen. "My jacket—Oh," she mutters. Pom watches in confusion as Huoreshi looks around everywhere for something. Her uniform is back where she had the interview with Pom, so what is it she needs?

"That's it, that is too far." Zhongweiran pushes Yanwufen to the ground and begins tugging at his uniform. "Your outfit, now." The two tussle as Huoreshi prances in place. Her flames look to have dimmed a lot compared to a minute ago.

"What's wrong?" Pom asks, confusion turned to concern. She steps around Huoreshi's long body and notices what's been in plain sight this entire time—a filled-in outline of a heart on her pinkish underbelly, only a little bit darker than what surrounds it. Huoreshi twists her front away from Pom in embarrassment. Pom thinks to leave it alone, whatever it is.

A cape is tossed through the air and Huoreshi quickly puts it on. It's not a perfect fit, drooping to the ground; Huoreshi's own uniform must have been tailored for her. Despite the mismatch she immediately calms down, shooting a dirty look at the owner of the jacket before turning toward the entrance. "Ambassador, I think I should take you to where you will be sleeping."

"I'm not sure if I'm even staying," Pom says, "and what about my pups?"

"I think it's best we go now. Away from those two." The now-stripped Yanwufen continues to struggle against his towering superior in a futile show of defiance.

"Um, can you do that a bit further away from the dogs?" Pom asks. Zhongweiran grunts in affirmation and pushes his victim toward the far wall of the armory.

"They will be fine, I must assure." Huoreshi says, nudging Pom in the direction of the entrance. Taking one last view of them, Pom whistles for Woof and is turns the corner, leaving the others behind again.

The horizon has turned magenta. As Pom and Woof are guided by Huoreshi down the slope of the mountain, past where she was taken last, she notices a lot more longma than in the morning, most of which lack any kind of uniform. She even notices some smaller longma, possibly ones her age. An urge to talk to one pecks at her, but Huoreshi keeps her moving at a brisk enough pace that Pom never takes action.

The strange houses continue further out and even the ones built upon the ground have the same pole at least a meter off the ground and only one entrance above it. Whatever is inside them, they seem made only for longma. The housing is occasionally broken up by stands, some made with brick and others carved directly into the mountainside. Nothing in the city seems to be made of wood, which Pom thinks makes enough sense given who lives in it. Some of them are occupied by longma, and Pom can see things like tools, cooking utensils, even some arts and crafts.

"It looks almost like a regular place to live," Pom says to herself.

"Of course," Huoreshi smiles. "I'm glad you have begun to see that."

"Och, I said that out loud?"

"I understand your sentiment, do not be worried. Most of our military offices are by the great wall where all outsiders have to enter. You will see a lot less soldiers here, or fewer on-duty ones at least."

"I kinda thought everyone was a soldier..."

"Everyone serves Huoshan, but a civilization needs many types of people. We train diligently to promote discipline, but that does not make us all warriors. Though I'm sure Zhongweiran disagrees."

"He's not gonna be the one looking after the puppies, is he?"

"Pom, I promise he is a good man. He may be more physical than you or I, but he only wants the best for and from everyone."

"When he was yelling at that bad guy... what's a 'see shan?'"

Huoreshi pauses in her tracks for a moment. She mouths 'sisheng' before saying "Forget you heard that word. He was wrong to say it."

"Okay." Pom says, discarding it as a bad word.

"While we are forgetting things, please do not speak about the mark you saw."

"The heart—"

Pom is aggressively shushed. She steps back, tripping on the puppy behind her and almost falling over. Pom notices, for the first time, how many longma are looking at her, not in a gawking mass like this morning but just a casual curiosity. In a whisper she repeats to Huoreshi, "the heart?"

"We all make bad decisions. I am fortunate enough to be able to hide mine." she nods.

"'s not just a birthmark? I thought it was cute."

"Much like the Sheeple dye their wool such a wild assortment of colors, we can dye our scales. The dye goes deep, and it takes multiple sheddings to disappear. Usually we take more subtle approaches than your kind for that reason."

"Ye think we dye our wool?"

"How else would you get such pastel pinks and blues?" she asks.

"I...'ll have to ask them." Pom was sure her wool would just get pinker when she got older, and has never seen a dyed sheep. Maybe the Sheeple who were ruled by wolves did so. "The big one's hooves, then, they're dyed?"

"As is the garish display on Yanwufen's body. We are usually subtle, but unfortunately not always."

"Is that why his eyes look—" The word 'evil' touches Pom's lips but she decides against that. "—black?"

"No, we cannot do that to our eyes. Nor would anyone ever want to look like that."

Pom wants to ask more. He is the only longma who looks anything like that. Everyone seems to be green or blue, a few yellows and reds, some less colorful than others, but none with eyes remotely resembling his. There's something she doesn't know.

"This is where you will be staying." Pom is snapped out of her thoughts and focused on the entrance to yet another staircase leading underground. "I apologize that we lack a special lodging for you, given your status, but ambassadorship is not something we usually deal with. I will show you which room is yours, and then I must depart. Please remain in your room until morning."

"Isn't it a wee bit early for bed?"

"You are not yet fully grown, sleeping early is important. I am sure you will fall right asleep."

The halls are just as dark as ever. Huoreshi opens one door in particular and announces, "this is your room." She steps inside, lighting it up with her body.

It is bare. There is no furniture, no tables or shelves, nothing of the sort. An extremely thin carpet rests in one corner of the room, but the rest of the floor is hard and cold. A basket with some kind of root vegetable sits in another corner, the only item of interest.

There's no light source of any kind in the room.

"But I'm afraid o' the dark." Pom says.

"I can get you a candle tomorrow, worry not." Huoreshi says.

"But, about tonight?"

"I apologize but I have some matters I need to prepare for your encounter with Her Fiery Highness. There is a zebra I must speak to before they depart for the night."

"I'll go with you!" Pom says.

"It is faster if I go alone. Have a blessed night, Ambassador Pom."

"But I—"

The door shuts. Pom stands in darkness.

Pom finds the carpet and lies down. It barely feels any more comfortable than the rest of the floor, and itches to boot. Woof snuggles up against her, not feeling any more comfortable than she is.

Pom tries one of the vegetables and immediately makes a face that nobody would be able to see in the blackness. It does not taste bad; it tastes like nothing at all. A rubbery texture makes it unpleasant to chew, and Pom manages to eat two before deciding to stop.

Pom has stopped sitting on the carpet, finding the cold stone to be better. At least it's not itchy.

Are the pups okay? Who's making sure they're alright? What if someone's doing bad things to them? It's happened once.

Pom is completely restless. She must have been here for hours. She misses the jail cell in Reine.

"I cannae take it." Pom says to herself." It was a foregone conclusion but Pom put it off until now; she's checking on her pups.

Pom meets no resistance exiting her quarters, not a locked door or guard in sight. Pom follows the dim glow of twilight coming from outside, and thinks how inconsiderate it is that Huoshan puts its guests in a building with no natural light. The sky, now a dark violet, still casts enough light to see one's surroundings, but the new darkness highlights each and every longma's flame, a score of living lanterns illuminating a circle of bricks around them. Slight differences in the colors of their flame become easy to tell apart, the yellowish and reddish flames standing out from the more common orange. Rare exotic colors like white or blue catch Pom's eye even from a distance, probably a trait of beauty the way Sheeple consider brighter wool to be.

Free from expectation, Pom looks in all directions, stopping to watch ordinary activities. Children chase after each other, one taking flight to avoid being tagged. A pair of adults laugh over some joke Pom couldn't hear, a pair of uniforms folded on the ground beside them. A craftsman spins clay, blowing a soft, steady flame on it even as it's being shaped. By a bubbling lake, a—

A searing heat touches Pom's front and her front hooves kick her away before she can get burned. The longma in front of her stops, confused at the noise behind them. "I'm so sorry," Pom rushes to apologize, "I should'a watched where... Tianhuo?!"

"Tianhuo?" the green-scaled longma asks in a tenor voice. He turns around, identical to Tianhuo in color but distinguished by a wide face and expressly masculine eyes. "The captain of the guard was chosen to be Champion of Foenum, she's away." Under his breath he mutters, "do I really look like her from behind..."

"Och, course yer not her. I, I must be blind. Sorry. Sorry."

"Are you the lamb everyone has been discussing today? Have you really met the captain?" Pom nods in response and he continues, "I am glad you survived her. The old Tianhuo would not have treated you so gently." The longma taps Pom's side in reassurance and Pom, with another quick nod, excuses herself to his confusion.

Out of anyone's earshot Pom shuts her eyes and scolds herself. "Why'd I go an' embarrass myself like that?" She looks around again and suddenly notices that a lot of longma look kind of like Tianhuo. The same teal scales, orange fire, the red eyes... not always identical, often not all three at once, but so many have some of these characteristics that it makes Tianhuo look even more like an ideal longma than before.

Am I ideal? Pom loses herself in thought. When these people see me, am I what pops in their head? I'm not very woolly yet. I blend in a crowd, is that good or bad for this? And I'm too loud for a sheep. And... if I'm here at all that makes me not really normal, huh? Even the most lost Sheeple would never end up here by accident. They said so themselves, I'm the first in as long as they can remember. And some of them seem to be really old...

...where am I?

Pom stares down the cliffside. After a steep drop is another beach with a few longma playing around. They're playfighting, some kind of three-on-one mock battle. The one is pretending to run away, like a cops-and-robbers getaway. The others pin him down and—this isn't for play.

Pom shudders and looks for the nearest adult; there's no one around. Pom looks down and notices the brick path she'd been walking down stopped at some point before here, and there aren't any buildings on this level of the mountain. Pom runs back up the slope that brought her here, moving for several minutes until she sees a longma. "Some people are fighting down there!" she pants. The only word to come from the longma is "Again?" before she flies off. Pom waits at the spot for several minutes before she returns on the ground with a limping child.

The longma sighs and asks, "Did you see who did it?"

"I... I dinnae remember anything about them."

She sighs a second time. "I wish you did. He never tells."

"Is this a problem?" Pom timidly asks. "Everyone here seemed so strict."

"Ambassador?"

"Huh?"

"Are you the Ambassador to the Sheeple?"

"Uh... yes." It's not a title Pom wants to invoke, but maybe it will tell her something.

"I promise it does not concern you, nobody would ever harm you."

"I didn't mean to say it would!" Pom shouts. "But is he alright?"

"It takes a lot to knock us down, he will recover. But yes, younglings of this age are rowdy. It feels every generation is worse than the last."

"Oh..."

"Be assured they will learn discipline, in time. Every one of us has struggled with the different parts of ourselves. Some struggle to find courage, others must find honor. But, whatever it may be, none are left behind." She pulls the child close and says "Now I must get him some care. You have done a kindness, thank you." Shaking like a leaf, flames out, he opens his eyes for a moment and, past the slit pupil, Pom sees a reflection of herself in them. She's compelled to say something, offer empathy, but by the time she thinks up the right words the two are already far up the trail.

"My puppies..."

Wherever Pom is going, it cannot be the right way. She's asked for directions but they all seem to get her even more lost.

Wait. She has a compass now! It'll point toward where she needs to go! Pom ruffles through her hair until the compass falls out, turns it over and frowns.

"That deer sold me a... a broken compass!"

The needle spins at a constant velocity, the only thing on the volcano more lost than Pom is. It's mocking her. Knowing Pom needed it, it chose to mock her.

A low whine from the lamb gradually grows louder, transforming into a shriek that pierces the night air. Everyone around Pom stops and stares, but Pom is too preoccupied with the failure of her lifeline to notice.

"Is she alright?" "Oh, is that the lamb?" "She's Ambassador, isn't she?." "What happened?" "Is this a Sheeple thing?"

One longma approaches and says "hey, hey now. There is no need for despair. What ails you, lamb?" Pom tries to vocalize her problem but can't get it past the sniffling that follows her outburst. The longma sees the compass and begins to laugh. "Oh, poor thing." he kids. "There is too much magic here for the compass to work."

"I just wanna find the armory." Pom whimpers.

"Where her dogs are." "I thought they were wolves." "They're predators, at least." "Amazing that they can live together." "It cannot be so simple. I bet there is something wrong in the Meadow." "The historian said they are fine together." "She got that from the lamb, can you trust her?"

"Let me take you there." the longma says to Pom, before addressing the crowd. "Have some respect for the child, will you? She must be scared out of her wits to even be here."

"He's right." "That letter said she's scared of us." "You have read it?" "No, but I heard." "Yes, it mentioned our eyes." "I would have thought it would be our teeth that scared her." "No, remember that the dogs..."

The longma motions to Pom to leave the crowd behind and Woof nips at her to get her going. About twenty feet later Pom sees the armory entrance down the path and lights up like she were a longma herself. "Th-thank you," Pom says before skittering to it on her own.

From behind the longma comes another. "I could not imagine living among an entire town of those." she says to him.

"Neither could I," he says. "I would be just as jumpy as her."

Pom tiptoes down the stairwell toward a small orange light. She peeks around the corner to see one lone guard on the ground, sleeping on the job. Pom sneaks past her and finds the pack of pups also asleep. Without a word Pom nestles between Mama and Papa, both of whom notice and lightly stir from sleep; they recognize Pom's smell, feel the texture of her wool, and both rub against her to say 'you're safe. you're home.'

The day's worries fade to memory, and Pom slumbers.

Chapter 8 — Culture Shock (Huoshan I)

"Ye cannae be serious! Please tell me it's a joke!"

Pom stands before Captain Estrela, eyes nearly watering, begging for mercy. Estrela looks at the pathetic display and repeats herself.

"Two hundred and sixty salt."

"But I dinnae have that much! I... I've not a quarter of it!"

Tapping her hoof against Pom's chin the captain quips, "You should consider it a mercy that we forgot to charge your dogs until now. If you want to come back with us, I expect that debt paid in full, and full price for the return trip. One hundred and twenty for the dogs, one hundred and forty for all of you, two hundred and sixty salt."

"That's robbery!" cries Pom.

"Are you accusing us of piracy? A pirate would've shaken you down in the open ocean. We're honest freighters, who expect an honest pay. If you don't have the salt, you'll simply have to find another way home."

"Wait! Please!!" Pom shouts as the black goat returns to her ship.

"Weigh anchor, we're headed home."

"Aye, captain!" a sailor shouts. "Gosh, that was a good one, the look on her face!"

Estrela, of course, never 'forgot' the charge.

When she had stepped off the ship, Pom thought she was standing in a gigantic pile of ash. Black sand covers the shoreline of the volcano, transitioning into a rocky outcropping further in, also black. Climbing up the jagged, uneven terrain sounds like it'd be a nightmare on Pom's hooves, let alone her dogs' paws, but she mercifully doesn't have to, as a winding path made of black and gold stone, adorned with lanterns at fixed intervals, extends from the shoreline all the way up the mountain. Above Pom rests an uninviting orange sky, and the peak of the volcano is obscured entirely by clouds. Were the path descending instead of ascending, one might assume this were the entrance to hell.

Pom stops, looking over her letter one last time. She's here... despite the cost. All she has to do is transfer it to some soldier—which, from how Tianhuo described Huoshan, is one hundred percent of longma—and... well, she's done with this. If she had been more proactive she may have been able to give it to one of the longma who collected cargo from the Landracegeder, though they were already finished and out of sight before Pom even herded her dogs onto the deck. What comes next, Pom decides to think about later. Maybe she won't even need to, and the longma will give Pom a ride to Baaah, or Reine, or anywhere that isn't stranded on a volcano.

Pom wipes her brow, drawing away sweat. "Be good, all of you, and stick close tae me. I dinnae wanna lose ye here." she tells her pups, individually embracing them.

With that, Pom begins the climb.

The higher Pom ascends, the steeper the mountain becomes. After a while it becomes difficult to climb, and Pom can't help but wonder if the longma even take this path that often, given their flight. Fortunately for her, at the point where it starts to feel like her hooves might slip the path detaches itself from the mountain altogether, turning into a narrow bridge supported by vertical pillars. With less of a need to conform to the shape of the mountain the path winds like a serpent, sometimes staying close to the natural terrain and other times soaring a dozen feet out from the base. The size of the drop, should she fall off, fills Pom with dread; she could actually survive a long fall most likely, given how light she is, but the same could not be said for someone like Big Papa. Pom nervously glances back, taking a head count before carrying on.

Perimeter guard duty is perhaps the least rewarding position in the Huoshan Empire. What is there to guard against? Beyond a rare zebra bearing gifts, or that one doe who keeps trying to get in, there are no trespassers or tourists in this sacred land. Any longma who signs up for guard duty does so with the hope—the dream—of becoming an internal guard for the Daughter of Heaven, but it tragically is not meant for all.

Sitting atop the great wall, the lowly guard assigned for this shift ponders her life decisions and whether it's too late to apply for something new. She is so lost in thought, so entrenched in the tedium of her daily job, that she fails to notice the faint knocking at the bottom or the wall. Neither does she notice the calls for attention, even when they turn to shouts.

She does notice, however, the flying dog suspended in front of her, propelled by its tail. And yapping incessantly.

"Puff! Get down here! I told ye not tae do that!"

Having gotten the guard's attention, Puff lands into Pom's embrace. "Oh lad, ye know I don't like that. I dinnae want ye to fall." she scolds, before playfully roughing him—as bad as it was, she'd never seen him jump so high before, almost something to be proud of.

The guard stares down, leaning from the top of wall, dumbfounded at the sight. She knows what that thing is—that's a sheep! ...she's pretty sure it's a sheep.

The longma rushes back to the guard-post and blows gust off the guidebook. She leafs through it, past the common guidelines on goats, zebra, deer, through the footnotes on antelope, camels, cows, tapirs. The guidebook contains references to visits by the Order of the Horn and even one-off freak encounters with dik-diks and giraffes... but no matter how much she checks and doublechecks, there is nothing on the Sheeple.

Are they banished? But if there were an explicit decree like that it'd be written in this very rulebook.

Maybe the lamb can be easily spooked away; they did get conquered by wolves, apparently, probably not too hardy...

"Hey!" a voice above Pom shouts.

Pom jolts at the sudden noise, instinctively backing away and nearly stepping off the bridge. She looks up, and more than thirty feet above her the head of a gray-scaled longma pokes out. Pom can make out some vague red clothing, but it and the longma's flames seem to be the only splashes of color; gray scales, a white underbelly pattern visible from the neck, and gray eyes that, like Tianhuo's, cross certain wires in Pom's brain and activate whatever part of it produces fear. Pom had the chance to become acclimated to Tianhuo's looks, but it seems not enough to override instinct.

Doing her best to behave rationally and treat the guard like a normal ungulate, Pom shouts "H-H-Hello!" and forces a smile.

"I don't think you should be here. I'm sure what you're doing isn't that important, please shoo." says the guard. Feeling that may not have been enough, she steps away from the ledge, then pops back out, waggling her hooves with a "Boo!"

The weak attempt at a scare is barely even recognized, but Pom's body nevertheless starts speaking for her. "Sorry! I'll be going!" she shouts, turning around and walking back down the path. The guard, satisfied with the job they did, trots away to tell someone about this.

Fifty paces from the great wall, Pom recovers from her hysteria. "Och, what am I doing?" she scolds herself, quickly returning to the wall. All six dogs sit as they were, none of them plussed at all; they know their caretaker, if nothing else, would never leave them behind. Pom just needs to explain her task to the guard and it'll be—

Two of them.

Next to the gray-scaled guard is a turquoise longma in similar red clothing. They had been chatting about the situation, until the newcomer points at Pom's return. The two longma exchange glances, having a conversation that Pom cannot hear, staring at her all the while with those... sharp eyes.

The gray guard gestures something to the other, and in response he speaks. "What is your purpose here, sheep?"

"I need tae," Pom begins, reflexively feeling the letter on her collar to make sure it wasn't somehow stolen again, "deliver a message."

The pair of guards converse for a moment, and the turquoise asks, "what is the message?"

"I mean I, it's not a verbal message it's a..." Pom stops speaking and plucks the envelope with her teeth, holding it up. "Mmm?" she gestures through closed teeth.

"Who is it for?" asks the gray ones.

"I'm... not really sure. I think it's for... the Empress?"

At the mention of the Empress the guards get into an even more heated, still inaudible, conversation. Eventually one says, "Please wait here." and both of them rush away at once.

Pom leans into Big Mama, more concerned by the minute.

Four of them!

Pom's concern bolsters itself each time a new face appears. Accompanying the confused guards are two additional longma. The less intimidating of the two, a thin-looking orange one, practically gawks at Pom, no subtlety or attempt to hide his bewilderment.

The other isn't much better at hiding his expression: abject disdain. A crimson longma, at least a foot taller than Tianhuo and broader as well, glares down at Pom. In contrast to the longma Pom had previously met, whose flames all had the reddish-orange hue expected of fire, this one's flames burn a bright yellow.

At once he descends. Without fear the giant longma steps off the ledge and lets gravity take him. The moment he begins fallin, both Mama and Papa begin barking in fury, viewing it as an attack. He accelerates as he drops, quickly reaching a dangerous speed—and at the final possible moment his wings flare, spreading beyond the width of the bridge, decelerating him with a single flap. Four large hooves stomp against the stone like a seismic quake.

Pom, who had been trying so hard, loses control of herself at the impact. Her legs move on their own, propelling her away from the crimson beast before her. Everything fading but raw survival instinct, Pom ignores her obligations, her situation—and her elevation. One hoof steps off the bridge, then a second, then both hind legs push Pom away in a leap toward another platform that doesn't exist.

Pom falls.

"No you do not!"

Two strong forelegs catch Pom in midair, wrapping around her chest from behind; two hind legs support her lower half to keep her from slipping. Pom snaps out of shock to find herself in the unavoidable, inescapable grasp of the red soldier.

The longma swiftly returns to the bridge, dropping Pom atop it before landing himself. Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, Pom's ears ring too hard for her to understand the longma's words: "Be less clumsy! You nearly got yourself killed for no reason."

Every dog threatens the half-dragon with barks and growls, putting the guards above on alert.

"Call off your wolves, sheep." he instructs sternly, his gold eyes barreling down on her.

Pom is unresponsive, too focused on trying to calm herself. Now is the worst possible time to get like this, she's too close.

Pom begins to stand, shakily stepping toward her companions to feel safer, but the longma prods at her side, anger boiling. "Hey! Don't turn your back on me, you're the one who came here!"

This is the final straw for Big Papa, who lunges at the soldier with a horrific snarl that rouses Pom's notice.

"Call off the wolves!" he shouts.

Guards descend to defend their superior.

The pups get in position to stop flanks.

Mama prepares for her own counterattack.

Pom, still dazed, struggles to keep up.

Drawing one massive breath, she begs, "Please, I need a MINUTE!"

The crimson longma silently counts the seconds as Pom, embraced by her flock, quickly calms down. The gray guard tries to approach from the side of the bridge, but Mama easily scares her away.

"Private Potunghui, fetch me a pail of water." the crimson one says to her.

"For the sheep?"

"I will determine what it's to be used for!"

As the one referred to as Potunghui flies away, the orange longma who arrived third approaches and asks, "Sir, given the circumstance, I believe we should get—"

Performing an about face the red brute shouts, "If you get HER I will see to it you spend the next one hundred years scrubbing floors!"

"But—"

"With your tongue!"

"Understood, sir!"

Pom, so close to the group of longma, has a much better look at them than before. Every one of the guards wears a small, identical maroon vest with a thin gold trim and decorative flame patterns. The crimson one adds to this outfit a helmet with a slit for the flame. One peculiar detail about this longma, besides his size, is a set of flamelike markings on his legs, from the base of his hooves to the ankle on his hind legs, and up to the knee joints on his front. The patterns are monotone in color and perfectly symmetrical between the left and right, like it was makeup or a dye.

Pom's attention is drawn away from his hooves quickly, though, by his gravelly voice.

"It's been a minute, soldier. Time to talk."

The longma looks quite keen to approach Pom and give the third degree, having spent the last minute thinking of the exact words he wants to use. Tragically for him, though, Pom stumbles forward, letter in mouth, and drops it before him.

"This is..."

"Please take it, 's all I came here for." pleads Pom.

The longma examines the envelope, immediately fixated on its tear. "This has been tampered with."

"I promise it ha'ent. There was a... scuffle, but I cannae even read it, let alone write."

Pom can hear "She's illiterate?" uttered by one of the two guards behind the crimson one.

Skimming the first two lines the soldier raises an eyebrow. "This is Her Majesty's script, written perfectly... where did you get this from, soldier?"

"I'm not a soldier, I—"

"Where did you get this from?" he repeats, patience draining.

"I had tae come here and deliver it for Tianhuo. Please take it."

Every longma in proximity double takes. The turquoise guard breaks rank, hovering over Pom. "You got this from Tianhuo, Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of—"

"I'm the interrogator here soldier, back of the line!" roars the crimson one. Back to Pom, he hisses, "I cannot fathom how you've gotten mixed up with our Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of the Guard Tianhuo. To be clear, though, I have every intention to find out."

"...so I'm nae going home right now."

"Not in the cards, soldier."

Tugging at her collar, Pom barters, "This is a bit much, I'm 'ardly a fan of confrontation like this. Maybe we could sit down somewhere nice, have some tea and talk about this?"

"You will not be entering our city!" The soldier squares up to Pom, as if she were about to object. "Especially with those predators behind you."

"Okay..." Pom scrapes at the ground a couple times, struggling to move this forward. "May I ha'e your name?"

"I should be asking you that! You come here and stir up my recruits and now you're asking requests of me?"

Pom takes a deep breath. Don't take it personally, he's probably trained to do this. "I'm Pom."

"Title?"

"Dinnae have one."

The longma clearly takes it as an insult. "I demand you tell me your title!"

"...I don't have one? Really, I dinnae."

"What kind of primitive, backwater place do you have to come from to not have a title?"

"Huh?"

"The fact that you can even speak means you should have a title! What is it?"

He refuses to back down, refuses to accept a non-answer. Against her own wishes, Pom tries to oblige him. "I'm... champion?"

"Foenum has a champion! It's Tianhuo, Most Noble—"

"Yes, aye," Pom quickly cuts him off, "but I'm champion o' the meadow."

"Do you expect me or anyone else to accept that?"

"I mean... Tian did."

"'Tian?!' She is to be addressed as Tianhuo, Champion of the Volcano and Most Noble and Virtuous Captain of the Guard! Every word of it! Understood?"

"I ken." Pom nods. Why's he so angry? What am I doing wrong?

"I've known our champion since we were born, soldier, and I'm not buying what you're selling." Pom is suddenly, though not very forcefully, poked in the chest, setting her dogs into another barking frenzy. "Tell them to shut up already!"

Pom does not tell her dogs anything, one passive grasp for control over the situation. "I cannae say I know her like ye, but she seemed nice, and treated me nice. Tian was—"

The longma boils over, taking flight. "She is Tianhuo, Most Noble and—"

A voice cuts off his repetitive shtick. "Lieutenant Zhongweiran, could you please not scare off the sheep before I've done my tasks with her?"

"I explicitly instructed you not to get HER!"

The orange guard waves his hooves. "I didn't sir! I was here the entire time!"

Zhongweiran faces the new voice in the crowd. "As for you, you know I'm to be addressed as Igniter of Sparks and Shaper of Wills Lieutenant Zhongweiran!"

"Please cut the overt formality, we are not presently speaking in front of Her Majesty." says the interloper.

Four short legs touch down in front of Pom, and a mauve longma stands half the height of Zhongweiran. 'Short' is perhaps the least accurate word to describe her, however; as if to compensate for her limbs, the longma's body stretches several feet longer than that of the guards. More than anyone else she could be described as serpentine—though the first thing to come up in Pom's mind, something she would never say aloud, is a certain breed of sheepdog.

Without moving her hind legs at all, the longma's body twists as she faces Pom. Two magenta eyes provide that trademark longma stare, but this time contrasted with an almost alarmingly cordial demeanor. "Please forgive my tardiness, had I known sooner of your arrival I would have beaten this one to the punch."

The longma extends a hoof, and Pom nervously accepts. "I am Huoreshi, Enligh—"

A warm splash of water douses Huoreshi's flames, catching Pom in the crossfire. Pom sees the expression of shock on Huoreshi's face, quickly turning to embarrassment.

"Thank you, Private Potunghui." says Zhongweiran, handle of a pail in mouth. He drops it and instructs, "I may need another before this is finished."

"Yes, sir!" Potunghui collects the bucket and flies off.

Embarrassment turns to anger. Gently retracting her hoof from Pom's, Huoreshi nearly crashes into her crimson aggressor, pink flames renewed and twice as bright as before. "Are you trying to keep me from doing my job?!" she demands.

"You're not needed here, soldier. I have this taken care of!"

"This is not your jurisdiction, it is solely mine!"

Zhongweiran groans loudly. "Is it? You are our Enlightened Historian."

"Enlightened Historian and Officer of Foreign Interests, you who obsess over titles. The lamb is foreign, and is absolutely in our interests."

"I was about to dismiss her, she's a messenger and nothing more."

"I watched you, you were not about to dismiss her! You were ready to play with her until sundown!"

"As if that's not what you wish to do?" Zhongweiran muses.

Flames roaring hotter, Huoreshi shouts, "It is not 'play' for me, you know my position better than just about anyone!"

"I know you're about to let that sheep bring six wolves into our capital if I don't stop you."

Pom weakly steps in. "Um, they're not wolves."

"This is the first time a member of the Sheeple has come here and just about the first contract between us since the fall of the Predators, and you want to just turn her away?!"

"Yes. Because she is traveling with wolves!"

"Not wolves..." Pom murmurs.

Huoreshi's hoof knocks against Zhongweiran's armor. "You will not impede my collection of this untold history."

Zhongweiran bumps his chest against Huoreshi's, craning his neck to look down at her. "This is the one time I have to stop you from doing your job."

Huoreshi stands up on her hind legs, craning at Zhongweiran instead. "Her Holiness would side with me."

Zhongweiran matches her posture, meeting her almost at eye level due his massive legs. "I plan to settle this without bothering Her."

Huoreshi takes flight. "Do you?"

Zhongweiran kicks off the ground. "I do!"

The two begin ascending, jockeying for height and hurling remarks at high speeds. Pom looks away, fearing a fight may begin. Her eyes dart to the right, then to the left—

Faintly, at a far distance, Pom makes out the silhouette of a goat. She squints, and sees the aqua tone of Shanty's bandana.

The goat, taking full advantage of the distraction at the bridge, effortlessly walks up the nearly vertical wall as if it were level ground. Shanty notices Pom looking in her direction and, without even slipping, quickly waves to her before resuming her climb.

Pom focuses on the argument at hand. A much greater crowd of longma congregate atop the wall, dozens of them watching the two esteemed soldiers dance through the sky. The motions each of them go through are unrecognizable to Pom and she has no idea who is winning or if this is something that can be won, but one thing is clear: Zhongweiran is both faster and more dexterous than Huoreshi, going in circles around her.

Despite the lack of violence Pom cannot shake her discomfort as she watches, the movements so frenetic that it feels things could come to blows at the next moment. The lieutenant's movements react to the historian's, like he too is bracing to dodge an attack that doesn't come. Huoreshi dashes toward him again and again, only for it to be a feint each time.

It doesn't take too long for Pom to get a theory of what's really going on. Huoreshi is trying to bait Zhongweiran into attacking. But why? He could probably swat her out of the sky with a single strike, given his mass. Yet, feint after feint Huoreshi keeps up this tactic. The crimson longma, though, refuses to take the bait, waiting to receive the first strike.

Minutes pass like this, and then, without any sign of finality from the match, Zhongweiran lands back on the bridge with a thud. "Fine, have it your way. She's your responsibility!"

"Thank you, lieutenant." says Huoreshi. Zhongweiran merely shakes his head.

"I'm confused," says Pom, "what happened?"

"You're her responsibility now. Anything you break or bother is on her head." With a final glare, Zhongweiran takes off high in the sky, watching high overhead.

The victor trots over. "Please forgive that digression. As I had meant to say, I am Enlightened Historian Huoreshi. I am very hopeful for what's to transpire today, and promise compensation if possible."

"What... what do you want from me?" Pom asks. Can she get me a ride off the island?

"Only to ask you some questions, I promise! Huoshan's base of knowledge on the outside world has seen better days, and it is my task to update and amend that base, especially with the recent developments in Foenum."

"The Predators..."

Huoreshi nods. Eyes drifting from Pom to the companions behind her, she says, "I'm sure, beyond hearing the fantastical developments of the meadow, you have great insight into predators' lifestyles."

"Maybe...? But ye have tae know, the lads aren't—"

Huoreshi places the tip of her hoof against Pom's lips. "Please forgive the interruption, but this is best done inside, where I can write it all down. Perhaps with some tea. Do you prefer green, white, dark?—forgive me, I'll log it once we're situated."

The historian motions the two guards at the base of the bridge, and without instruction they fly to the top of the wall and begin lowering a lift. Pom, in tow with Woof, Ruff, Tuft and Puff, are pulled up. When it's lowered again, Big Mama steps on, startling the guards as the metal pulley bends slightly. With great effort, though, they and several other guards raise her up.

Everyone looks down at Papa and can tell at a glance the lift would not sustain his mass. Huoreshi, stumped, calls for Zhongweiran, still perched high in the sky. "Could you help us here?"

"As I said, Enlightened Historian, your responsibility!"

After long deliberation, the course of action is decided upon. Half a score of longma push against the bottom of the lift, barely counterbalancing Big Papa's weight. Two longma push against the frame of the pulley to lessen its load, and the remainder present desperately turn the crank. It is a slow, painful process, but Papa manages to join the other dogs. Those underneath him nearly plummet as they flap to solid ground, all of them collapsing in a heap.

"Please forgive the inconvenience," says Huoreshi to Pom. "I will take you right to my office, and we can begin."