As I sat in the trees canopy, high above the foliage and fauna below, I readjust myself into a more comfortable position, my eyes never once leaving the scope of my rifle. The sounds of the forest's wildlife bit through the otherwise silent air. I take in a deep breath, the smell of pine, wet moss and grass and other vegetation quickly hit my nose. I close my eyes as I enjoy the smell of the forest. The wilderness had always been a source of comfort to me. Something about its unpredictability always calmed my nerves.

I think I'm getting ahead of myself. Introductions are in order. I have gone by many names in my life: Beastmaster, Clan of One and many others, but you can call me Fendral Marika, Mandalorian of the Bounty Hunters Guild. And it's the reason for my current high-rise predicament.

You see, for the past few weeks, the neighbouring towns, settlements and the like have been reporting trouble with a roaming pack of Diamond Dogs that had detached themselves from the main body of governing clans, coming together to form this rogue pack. They had mainly stuck to just stealing foodstuffs, drinks and weapons on the rare occasion, generally doing so in the cover night, nothing more than a nuisance. Recently, however, they had gotten brave, stealing larger and more important items like wagons, tents, clothing items and even dynamite and gunpowder in broad daylight. Although these were easily replaceable things, a search was warranted, but they came out empty each time. But with their latest pillage, kidnapping four to five Ponies from their beds as they slept, they realized the severity of the situation and decided they needed experts. So when the reports finally came across the desk of the Headmaster of our branch of the guild, the bounty was put up rather quickly. And I just so happen to get there first.

That's why how I found myself here, thirty feet in the air, a mile out from the border for Whitetail Woods and the Everfree, tracking the roaming pack of Diamond dogs with my supplies running low. Tracking them was easy enough as they left a large enough trail that even the most inept trackers would easily know where they went. What gave me trouble though, was that they were constantly on the move, never staying in one place for very long.

As I sat within my perch, I reopen my eyes, staring down the sights of my rifle again. Fifty metres ahead of me lay the Diamond Dog pack, which looks to be settling down into a temporary encampment. I needed to act quickly. Surveying the camp, I began looking for anything that may be to my benefit if things get dicey and seeing if I could spot any of the missing Ponies.

There wasn't much, at least not much of any note. A few white tents dotted the site, seemingly placed at random, more than likely those they had stolen, crates were scattered around the camp and in the back a few wagons which seem to have been unceremoniously abandoned, the contents presumably being mainly weapons or foodstuffs. Working inward, I spot a particularly large Dog circling what appeared to be a set of cages, snarling intermittently.

Reaching up to my scope, I readjust and increase the zoom of the sights of my rifle to get a better look at the prisoners and just as I had suspected, they were Ponies but from the angle, I couldn't see their faces. They looked to be a little worse for wear. Dirt was smeared across their coats and deep purple bruises marked their bodies and what clothes they had left were torn and fraying. Even if they're not the ones I'm looking for, they don't deserve this.

Moving my sights once more, that's when I finally spot him, the pack leader. Identified by his heavier armour and deep blue scarf, he was sitting on one of the few benches near the border of their camp. Repositioning myself again, I inhale deeply and started counting off-beat between my heartbeats. Once I was certain I would make the shot, I fired.

I squeeze the trigger and a bright flash flared from between the double-pronged end of the rifle, the power of which threw up loose bits of bark, the shot being able to be seen briefly before it hit its target. The Diamond Dog didn't have enough time to react as the projectile hit him, turning him into nothing more than a puff of ash. Where the pack leader once stood was now nothing more than an empty space, his armour falling to the ground, the other Dogs painfully unaware of his excruciating demise.

I open the chamber, ejecting the spent shell and I quickly reach for my belt, pulling out another slug and sliding into the open chamber and slamming it down. Aiming once more, I steady my breathing and choose another target. A Dog wandered up to where the leader had been standing and looked at his armour and the ash laying on the ground beneath it, briefly looking around in hopes to spot him. I didn't wait long before squeezing the trigger, doing the same as I had with my previous shot.

Just as I took the shot, the branches I sat on cracked, throwing off my aim. Catching myself before I fell, the shot fired and flew through the air, barely missing the dog by a few inches, whizzing past his head and into the ground behind him. The Diamond Dog jumped, startled and alert and looked to where the shot had come from. His eyes darted along the tree line, using his enhanced eyesight to his benefit.

After finding nothing, he ditched the attempt and raised his head high into the air, he took in several deep sniffs, occasionally taking a step forward when he finally stopped and lowered his head, a sinister snarl slowly made its way onto his muzzle before breathing deeply, far deeper than before. Releasing it, he let out an ear-splitting howl, a howl that I could feel in my bones, though my helmet mitigated it for my ears. Before I knew it, what appeared to be the whole pack amassed to his position, drawing their gimcrack weapons.

I grumble to myself as I jumped from my perch, bracing my legs for impact. Landing with a resounding thud, I use my momentum to roll, softening the impact and continuing forward, stumbling into a full sprint and holstering my rifle on my back before pulling out my pistol. As I drew closer, a few of the Dogs spotted me, alerting their kin to my presence. All eyes were now on me.

As I burst through the tree line, I fire a few shots off, hitting a few in the chest, the red bolts leaving behind a smouldering hole in their wake. Startled by the sudden deaths of their kin, the Dogs start firing their bow and arrows or crossbows, a few of which ping off of my armour. Sliding across the ground, I take cover behind some conveniently sized and placed crates, the Dogs still firing at me.

The shot stops suddenly and quiet now fills the air. Peeking out from behind my cover, an arrow ricochets off my helmet, forcing me back behind cover.

"Dank farrik," I grumble to myself.

Realizing the situation I was in, I saw no choice but to call for backup. Taking in a deep breath, I let out a long, loud whistle, letting it ring out through the air as I finished. I could hear shuffling behind me, the Dogs possibly unsure of what to make of the sudden sound.

Erupting forth from the brush in an explosion of leaves came something the Dogs least expected, a Timberwolf. The usually sick green glow that emanated from their cores was now a light blue, bordering on white with blue accents that ran up its forearms and across its back and a red bandana was wrapped snuggly around its neck. It charged forward with its teeth bared, the sap-like saliva also lacked the distinct green glow. The Diamond Dogs started again, the arrows lodging themselves harmlessly in its bark-like skin.

Smiling, I jumped from my cover, I slid across the crate's lid, firing a few more shots, taking down as many Dogs as I could. As the Timberwolf jumped over the crates, it distracted the Dogs by sliding under their legs, clamping down on their ankles, tearing the Achilles tendon before ripping out their throats in a bloody display.

Holstering my blaster, I pull my knife from my belt, ducking under a powerful sword swing. Plunging my knife into the side of my attacker, he let out an agonising scream as I bring the blade to the other side, slicing open his stomach. His intestines spill out onto the ground in a steaming pile as I drive the blade through the top of their head, silencing his wails.

I turn in time to see another Dog throw a punch aimed at my throat. Using my head, I slam his fist with great force, earning a sickening crunch followed by another scream. Ramming my knife into the Dog's chin, the tip pokes out the top of their head for a second, flecks of bone and grey matter mar the tip before I pull it out.

Another two charge me as I slowly walk towards them. Ducking again, I punch one in the throat before slamming my fist into the nose of the other, breaking its nose with an audible crunch, stunning them both. I quickly run behind the first one, kicking in his leg and forcing him to fall backwards. I catch his head under my arm before stepping forward slightly, applying upward pressure with my forearms on his neck. In an instant, a resounding snap sounds out as his body goes limp and I quickly drop him, thrusting by knife into the throat of the other, severing his spine.

I turn and spot that had alerted the rest of the camp, wielding a pair of swords. He starts a series of quick flashy flourishes, spinning and flipping them in a display of obnoxious arrogance, leaving me to watch the sight unimpressed. As he finishes, I simply draw my blaster and fire, the bolt finding its mark in his chest, killing him instantly.

Hearing the sounds of loud yelling to my right, I look to and spot a group of Dogs coming running around the corner of one of the various wagons, weapons held high. Glancing behind them, my eyes land on another one of their stolen goods, a conveniently placed red barrel. Throwing my first forward, a grappling hook shoots from my vambrace, zooming past the head of the Dogs and grabbing hold onto the barrel with its strong grip. I grab the cord and give it a hard yank, the barrel flying just above the heads of the now aware Dogs. Aiming, I shoot a single shot.

The ensuing explosion engulfed the small group in a fiery orange flame, killing most of them instantly, my large coat and scarf billowing from the sheer force of it. Those unlucky few that lived howled in anguish, their fur catching ablaze and their muscles melting off of the bone. Their cries soon turned to gargles as they screamed their throats and lungs raw, blood pouring from their somehow still shrieking maws. But soon enough, all was silent.

Looking around, I find the rest of the camp to already be dead, the Timberwolf making short work of them. Remembering the other reason I was here, I quickly strode over to the cages to let the prisoners out. But as I was about to reach them, a heavy blunt object rammed my right side and I was sent flying into nearby boxes, a surge of pain coming from where I was hit. Peering up, a large Dog sneered down at me, a large portion of his face was burned and melted away, revealing the blackened skull beneath with patches of fur that were either missing or still aflame from the explosion. He gives me nothing more than a single grunt before hefting his large mace above his head.

As the mace was at its apex, the Timberwolf jumped at his throat, digging its razer sharp teeth deep into the Dogs flesh and he drops his mace. Despite the weight on his shoulders and the pain that wracked his body, he stood tall, refusing to fall. Pushing myself up as quickly as possible, I tap my left forearm on my hip and a pair of thick slightly curved spikes jut out from the large gauntlet over my balled fist. Getting up close to the Dog and throwing my fist forward, the spikes easily penetrate the thin leather.

He quickly falls to the ground as I continue my assault even as the Timberwolf ultimately ripped out his jugular in a terrible squelch. His flesh rapidly began to tenderise as the sounds of crunching bone are replaced by the sound of wet blows as his ribs and sternum shattered from the relentless attack, flecks and chunks of meat and bone flying here and there. Eventually, with the Dogs chest caved in, I fall onto my back and the spikes retract back into my gauntlet.

Sighing a breath of relief, I try to stand but a jolt of pain erupts from my side and I end up back on my ass, clutching my ribs. Giving them a small poke, a few gave way from the pressure, letting me know they were broken. Reaching to my satchel, I pull out a pair of metallic syringes and gently poked them into my side, being sure to inject all the contents before pulling them out. I let out a small groan as the small, concentrated amount of bacta worked its way into my system. I grimace and laid my head down for a minute or two as a wave of nausea washes over me as the bacta and light sedative slowly started working. It'll take a while for these injuries to heal fully.

Once done, I stand with a groan, doing so slowly so as to not upset my injuries further. Standing slowly, the wolf walks over to me, dropping a set of keys on the ground, looking up at me expectantly, tongue out and tail wagging.

"Good boy," I said, clapping the wolf who yipped happily at the gesture.

Striding over to the pens, I try several of the keys for some time. I eventually find the one for the locks, finally opening the doors for the grateful Ponies captives. They were sceptical at first, having witnessed the bloody execution of their captors, couple that with the Timberwolf who was seen sniffing around the slowly stiffening bodies, unbothered by the blood drenching his wooden paws, but quickly warmed up to us once they realized we were there to help. Moving from body to body, I gave each of them a single bolt to the head, being sure that the brain was destroyed. You can never be too safe.

As I made sure they were dead, I began cutting off the ears of the Dogs that lay cold on the ground as proof of a job well done, clipping the pouch they were in onto my belt. Once done, I gathered the Ponies to a part of the camp where the bodies weren't, going over their injuries to see if any were serious. Thankfully none were.

I ask them a small series of questions, quickly finding out these were indeed the Ponies that had been kidnapped. Fortunately, the punishment the Dogs put them through was fairly minor when compared to other packs. Slight malnourishment and dehydration, easily fixed. And the Dogs only gave out a couple of light beatings for disobedience, giving them the injuries they had. All in all, they were in fair condition.

Double-checking their injuries, I nodded to myself and walked over to one of the various carts, removing the boxes and piling them neatly near another pile, picking up a piece of rope from one of them and indicating for the group to hop on. They hesitated briefly, before conceding, knowing I was their best chance at getting back home. Climbing on, they looked at me expectantly.

"How're we gonna get back?" One asks. "You're not gonna pull us, are ya?"

I smile behind my helm as I raise my vambrace to my face and I press a sequence of buttons, letting out a satisfying click once I finished. I gaze off to my left as I wait. Seconds go by and a whirring fills the air, the Ponies looking around in confusion. The sound gets louder when finally, bursting from the treeline, comes my BARC speeder bike, stopping about a metre in front of me. Hopping on, I back the bike to the front of the wagon, tying it to the back of the bike before climbing back on. The Timberwolf climbs onto the wagon, unconcerned with the startled Ponies.

Punching in a series of coordinates, the modified nav system showed me how to get to the location and how long it would take. Pressing forward, we advance at a leisurely pace so as to not disturb my passengers or undo the rope, my bike making enough noise to scare off any creatures in our path. On the journey, the Ponies made a few attempts at small talk, some better than others, but stopped at my lack of responses and talked amongst themselves while they dislodged the remaining arrows from the Timberwolf's bark. A few hours passed with non-stop travelling and my passengers happily drank from the large canteen I had on hand when we finally arrived at our destination. Valintine.

It was about as typical as you could get when it comes to a rural town. Wooden houses, thatched roofs, a general store, a farm, a forge and a decent bar. Even the colours were generic, consisting of mostly browns of various shades. Though the locals seem happy enough so they must be doing something right.

Parking my bike near the front entrance, I help the Pony resues out of the wagon as the local guard arrives to take them away to someplace safe and return them home. Untying the wagon from my bike, I swiftly move on, the Timberwolf not straying too far from my side. Moving farther into the town and down the main street, the Ponies make way for me as I walk, unsettled by my bloody appearance and by the large wolf that followed closely. Soon enough, I come to the town's bar, The Drum and Monkey.

Walking up the wooden steps, which creak loudly under my feet, I open the double doors and step inside, the once lively and bustling tavern soon fell silent, all noise now becoming a hushed whisper. I continue in without pause, my large strides taking me to a particular table near the far right wall. Situated there was the stallion who issued the bounty, who quickly notices me as I approached.

"Ah, Bounty Hunter!" He exclaimed. "I take it the jobs done?"

Reaching to the pouch on my belt, I chuck it onto the table in front of him, the contents of which squelch as they land. The disgusted stallion hesitantly reaches towards the pouch, slowly opening it before slamming it shut. He pushes it away, using his other hand to cover his mouth, trying his best to fight the rising bile. Swallowing, he quietly shudders, seemingly successful in pushing back his upchuck.

"Yes, well," He said, his eyes never leaving the pouch. "I'll take that as a yes."

"My payment please,"

"Yes of course," He said, pulling out a pen from his shirt pocket. "Hand me the bounty papers, if you will."

Reaching my belt again, I grab a leather-wrapped metal cylinder and unscrewed the cap, and pulled out a piece of rolled-up paper. Handing it over to the stallion, he rolls it out and scribbles near the bottom before rolling back up, handing it back to me and putting his own pouch onto the table. Placing it back within the cylinder, I reattach the cap and pick up the pouch before I turn away, striding back towards the bar's entrance.

"Thank you for your service!" I hear the stallion say.

Walking out, I say nothing as I walk back down the town main street and back towards my bike, the Timberwolf never once leaving my side. Climbing onto my speeder, I open a compartment behind the driver's seat, to which the wolf happily hops into. Double-checking everything was in place, I grab the handles and slam them forward. We take off in a surprising burst of speed, kicking up dirt and mud as we zoom down the Everfree, on our way home.

The trip to our final destination was far quicker. Having nothing to hold us back and the trail being relatively straight, with the occasional twist or turn, we were able to close to full speed, cutting the travel time of the journey down significantly.

A couple of hours pass and the nav system gives off a ping, giving me an auditory indication that notifies me we were near. After a while, I begin noticing changes. The world seemed to be getting lighter in colour, the darkness that had weighed down on us finally lifted and the air felt lighter. Soon after the trees changed as well, going from the typical withered husks to bright and filled with life, filled near to the brim with ripened apples.

I pull back on the handles, shifting my weight to the side and we come to a skidding stop, kicking up a thick plume of dust. As the dust begins to settle, we were greeted with the sight of none other than Ponyville, a quaint, bustling rural country town. Our Home.

"Hey! Uncle Fen!" A voice calls out.

My shoulders tense up and my hand twitches towards my pistol as my gaze snaps to where the voice called from. I relax and smile once I spot who called for me. Jogging towards me was a Stetson-wearing Earth Pony mare, a wide smile across her muzzle.

"Hey AJ," I reply, stepping off of my bike, moving towards the Pony as quickly as my long injured leg would allow.

Embracing the orange Earth Pony in a tight hug, I groan lightly as a dull throb of pain comes from my side, causing her to quickly let go and look at me with an unimpressed and an almost annoyed expression on her face.

"You always come back injured!" She chastised, lightly poking me in my armoured chest. "One of these days your not gonna come back and we'd be none the wiser. You oughta be more careful."

"I'm fine cyar'ika," I said, gingerly lowering her hand, tapping my side. "See?"

"Still," She said, losing the annoyed look, now more concerned about my safety. "We oughta have those wounds looked at."

I couldn't do anything but concede to the mare, knowing that the back and forth that would happen would last for hours before anything was achieved. We were about to move when from behind us came a loud bark, effortlessly gaining our attention. Spinning on our heels, the Timberwolf sat near the bike, an impatient look on his muzzle but wagging his tail nonetheless.

"How could I forget about you boy?" She cooed, rubbing the soft moss under his chin, earning a happy half bark from the wooden canine.

"Come boy," I said, lightly tapping my thigh, the wolf quickly coming to my side.

Applejack took my wrist soon after and swiftly lead me to the main house, leaving me to do nothing but gently limp behind. Leading me up the wooden steps and into the light red barn house, we entered the cosy living room where I was unceremoniously plopped onto the dark brown leather couch. She left briefly before she came back with the house first aid kit in her hands. Folding her arms, she gained an expectant look as she tapped her hooved feet against the varnished floors.

"Right. Off with the garments," She demanded. "Can't tend to ya if I can't see the injury."

Chuckling softly as I stand, removing my gauntlets before unfurling my scarf from my neck and taking off my large coat, setting them off to the side before removing my beskar armoured shirt followed by the plain armourweave undershirt, making sure to keep my helmet atop my head. I sit back down, raising my arms above my head so Applejack had a clear view of my wound.

"Sweet Celestia, what're ya like?" She asked rhetorically.

Looking down, I finally see what the damage was like. On my right side was a large dark purple bruise, taking up the majority of that side of my body. While the bacta syringes are amazing at healing wounds less than grievous, they do however take a very long time to act, leaving a lot of wounds to still require a slight dressing.

Lifting my head, I looked around the room, listening to the ambient sounds of the aged house, but gained a curious expression when I realized that was all that I heard. Applejack took a glance up at me while she worked on my rather large bruise, possibly sensing my confusion before she spoke.

"The others are out at the market," She explained as she applied a numbing salve before wrapping me in a layer of bandages. "They left not long before you got back actually."

"I see."

In little to no time at all, she was already finished dressing my injury, taking no more than half an hour to complete the process. However, being as stubborn as she is, she demanded I take it easy and relax for a bit, while she went to take care of a few things around the house. Much like before, I decided not to argue, knowing her sheer relentless stubbornness would win out anyway. So I lay there on the soft leather couch, basically shirtless bar the bandages Applejack wrapped me in, lightly snoring after I closed my eyes for a quick nap with my Timberwolf companion happily curled up in front of the couch.

"Applejack! We're back," A voice called out.

I jumped awake as I was abruptly woken from my power nap. Settling back down, I sigh as my mind slowly becomes fully awake and aware of the world around me. Not bothering to move an inch, I stay still on the now warm couch, listening to the several sets of hooves clopping around on the hardwood floor. Not long after, I felt a hand rest itself on my shoulder that gently shook me, trying to get me to move.

I lightly swat the hand away, grumbling to myself. The hand shook me again only to get the same response from me. It tries once more before giving up. A few seconds pass before I feel the couch begin to tilt forwards and soon find myself falling to the cold floor. I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling before my vision is filled with messy light ginger hair.

"Su cuy'gar Butter," I said, still laying on the floor, briefly catching a glimpse of Big Mac kneeling next to the couch, rubbing behind the happy Timberwolf's ears.

"Hello to you too," The light peach mare said cheerfully, offering me her hand to help me up.

Accepting her offer, I take her hand and she swiftly and effortlessly pulls me to my feet. Nodding my thanks, I shifted my gaze to the side of the couch to see Big Mac, who wore a sheepish smile as he moved the kitchen. Shaking my head, I sit back onto the couch, gently poking my side, finding it still felt a little tender, but otherwise in better condition than it had been.

"AJ told us about your injury," Bright Mac said. "So I take it the job went well then?"

"It was a successful hunt!" I replied.

"Y'know ya oughta be more careful." He said.

"We both know that will never happen, dear," Peach Butter replied.

Bright Mac and Peach Butter, the parents of the Apple triplets, are two important ponies I share a bit of history with. To make a long story short, I have come to be quite close to the family. But I think that the full tale is one to be saved and shared for another time.

"Yall shoulda waited an' I woulda patched him up," Granny Smith said.

"Well what done is done," Butter said, moving to the kitchen, grocery bag in hand.

Putting on my armourweave shirt, I offered to help put away the rather substantial amount of shopping the four had done, but naturally, I was quickly denied and shooed out of the kitchen by the family's Elder, who lightly poked me away with her cane. Sitting down on the couch once again, I simply laid back down, listening to the sounds of the family at work in the kitchen, doing so for only a few minutes before they came back through, having already finished.

"Say, iffin you want ta, ya can stay fir supper 'fore ya leave fir home," Granny Smith said. "Yer welcome ta stay overnight as well."

"It would make Apple Bloom very happy," Bright said.

I slowly stretch my back and limbs, eliciting a series of cracks and pops, causing those present to cringe. I let my head rest against the back of the couch and briefly think about the offer. It had been a long and tiring few days and taking my time to let my wounds heal would be a good idea. And the idea of spending my downtime with those I cared for made the decision a no-brainer.

"I would be happy to."

Author's Note

So after a long time away and a whole fuck ton of thinking, I decided I'd try my hand at writing again, having found the motivation and some time to do it.

But why a complete rewrite? Well as much as I liked the first version, it was not without its flaws and after reading it a few times and going over the plans I laid out for it, I realized I could do a whole lot better. And I feel now that I've improved my "skill", even if by a small margin, I thought it'd be better to start again, rather than continue a story that I've ultimately lost connection to.

Characters will stay mostly the same, but key events and overall story are largely different. The largest change is probably the main character Fendral, as his personality has had a complete rework, with his backstory having similar treatment.

And unlike before, I will primarily focus on writing this fic, as it has a set road map and because I want it to be the best it can be while I work on my original piece on the side.

This was slightly long-winded and I do apologise for it, there was just a couple of things I wanted to explain before I went any further.

I just hope it was worth the wait.

Please point out any mistakes I may have made
Constructive criticism is always appreciated
Until next time, TTFN!