Black pits of tar-seeps could be found dotting the land in the Umugqa desert, in an area called ‘The Eyes’ by the locals. About ten miles to the west, settled along the coastline, was a settlement; its wall was made of standing logs, stabilized from inside by a scaffold that acted as a viewing platform. Surrounding that wall was a trench, reinforced with wooden beams and shaded with tarps overhead.

This settlement, nicknamed Dustbowl by its occupants, was essentially a staging ground for the main construction projects. Soldiers patrolled the trenches; the newer arrivals kept a constant vigil on the horizon as the older occupants zoned out, using their imagination to break up the monotony.

The zebras knew they were there, alright; they’d sometimes spend hours watching them from the horizon, as if daring them to get any closer… but the soldiers wouldn’t be in much danger, anyway, considering the lever-action rifles they all sported; and if that wasn’t enough, the brass gatling guns that periodically lined sections of the trench wall would be. Armor would just weigh them down, so their uniforms consisted of light tan jackets; on their heads was a towel secured with a sweatband across their foreheads, their helmets hanging on their belts.

An escape barge was maintained in a simple dock; so if shit goes sideways, the non-military occupants could fly to and evacuate; another barge was approaching from the distance, signaled by a foghorn.

“Halle-fuckin’-lujah.” A senior officer muttered to himself, taking his flat military hat off to wipe his forehead; last week, he’d received the news that construction on the oil derricks would soon begin. The barge carried supplies, construction workers, more soldiers, guns, ammo… and trucks with gatling guns mounted in pull carts; all within large stacked shipping containers, with supplies stacked on pallets for quick loading and unloading. It was a simple yet revolutionary logistical change that made transporting cargo a much quicker process.

As the ship approached, the shoremen did inspections of their forklifts on the large field of concrete used for staging stuff. They looked like open-topped tractors with weights on the back and a massive hydraulic device welded onto the frame; they made no attempt to hide the fact that these were just regular tractors modified for this purpose. While this happened, the soldiers saw the clipboard jockeys going around busting everyone’s balls like one of their own officers would. On the barge itself, massive cranes started coming to life, performing one of the many periodic functionality tests they went through on the journey. It wouldn’t have been an easy task, keeping machinery well-greased and rust free as they got sprayed with saltwater.

Everyone watched the barge as it approached, hoping that tomorrow, maybe they’d finally see some action. A bunch of project managers would need to survey the land to determine what goes where- but the soldiers couldn’t care less about who they would be protecting; most were eager to finally leave the walls of Dustbowl, their trigger fingers itching in anticipation.

The zebras remained on the horizon, watching. Waiting.

It was the middle of september- and despite school starting in a week, I was excited for Anastasia; after all, today was her sixth birthday! I held her present in my bathrobe’s pocket, anticipating the look on her face.

“Anastasiaaa!” I sing-songed as I entered her room. “Happy birth-” She wasn’t there, but her bathroom light was on, the door wide open. I heard coughing, followed by the sounds of retching and wet splashing; I approached the bathroom with a sinking feeling in my gut.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I entered the room; She was leaning against the wall near her toilet, staring off into space. She was shivering, drenched in sweat and wrapping herself in a blanket. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She looked towards me with a smile. “Hey, Ma’.” She sniffled, snot running down the sides of her beak. “I’ll be late for breakfast- I didn’t get much sleep last night.” She explained innocently, apparently thinking her symptoms were a result of a lack of sleep.

“Aww, baby…” I muttered, pulling the chain to flush her toilet and grabbing a towel to clean her face. “You’re just sick, honey.” She let me clean her face without any fussing- that’s how I knew things were real serious.

“No’m not.” She muttered, her voice sounding rough and scratchy. I held a hand to her forehead and couldn’t help but gasp out loud at how hot she felt.

“Good fuck…” I tugged at the blanket she clutched around herself. “Anastasia, get this off. You’re burning up!” She held it around her tight, and I was forced to more-or-less pull it from her weakened grasp.

“Weehhhh!” She whined as the blanket was taken away. “B-But I’m c-c-coooold!” She was trembling, beak chattering as she tried hugging herself to keep ‘warm’ while my heart broke. I leaned into her, allowing her to grab on to my neck while my right hand picked her up.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” I nuzzled her forehead, gently setting her on the bed. I set her on top of her quilted comforter, grabbing the thinnest blanket I could find in her closet for her; hopefully it’d keep her cool and comfortable. I grabbed the empty box of tissues at her bedside to replace with a new one; a tin bucket used for making sandcastles I found in her closet would make for a decent temporary emergency vomit bucket.

“I’ll be right back, baby. If you gotta throw up and can’t make it to the bathroom, use this.” I set the bucket on her bedside. I nuzzled her forehead, running to the bathroom to wash my hand-

“Mamma?” She asked. “Are we still having my birthday party?” A glimmer of hope sparkled in her eyes, only interrupted by a coughing fit- and it broke my heart to have to tell her.

“We’ll reschedule it, Annie. You just need to rest for now.” She sniffled, face scrunching up like she was about to cry. “Would you make it feel better if I showed you your gift?” She sniffled, looking off to the side… before nodding her head.

“It would a little…” She had the smallest smile curling her beak, and I kissed her forehead.

“I’ll be right back.” I said after washing my hands.

In the kitchen, Mamma was still working on breakfast… and once again, I had to be the bearer of bad news.

“Morning, dear!” She said cheerily, shredding potatoes as she asked- “How’s the little birthday girl?” But she saw the expression on my face as soon as she looked up.

“Anastasia’s sick.” She stopped cranking the shredder immediately, nodding as she ran to the utility closet. She set a bucket on the table, using that as the basis to assemble a care kit.

“What’s the symptoms?” She asked, and I rattled off-

“High fever. Chills. Vomiting, presumably nausea as well. Sore throat, if her scratchy voice is anything to go by.” I explained as Mamma set a couple bottles of water and ginger-ale in the bucket. “She didn’t even fuss when I wiped the snot off her beak.”

Mamma’s eyes widened. “That serious?” She asked, and I nodded. She grabbed a bottle of cough syrup out of one of the cupboards. “When your wife's doctor comes around, have him take a look at her.” She commanded, shoving the bucket my way. “I’ll bring you up something to eat- you just look after Anastasia.” I nodded, pulling her in for a hug.

“I won’t let you down!” I jokingly saluted, using my wing to hold the bucket by the handle.

I also made sure to stop by the livingroom- Dee was sitting on the couch, rubbing the bump on her belly as she listened to the radio. I let her know what was going on; and since she had that doctor's appointment, we were gonna have him make sure whatever Anastasia has wouldn’t also spread to my wife.

“I’m back, sweetie.” I let myself in, setting the supply bucket next to her bed and grabbing a pillow to sit on. I grabbed the cough medicine, and Anastasia asked-

“Why do my arms hurt?” Once again I couldn’t help but flinch, feeling that second-hand pain mothers get when seeing their baby hurt.

“I told you- you’re just a little sick, is all. Nothing to worry about.” I ruffled her head-feathers, cracking open a ginger-ale before pouring cough syrup into a spoon. “Open up.”

She must have been more than a little dazed, opening her beak without hesitation. It closed on the spoonful of cough syrup, a look of regret flashing across her features when she did. Just as Mamma did to me many times, I pinched her beak shut and tilted her head back.

“You did good, baby!” I tried to be as enthusiastic as possible while she spat at nothing. “Ginger ale- drink it.” I handed her a bottle and she sipped it, trying to get the awful taste out of her mouth.

“Ewwww…” She whined, setting the gingerale on her nightstand.

“It’ll make you feel better, at least.” I said, reaching into my bathrobe for the wrapped wooden box. “Would this at least make you happier?” I asked, handing her the small gift-wrapped box; it was a weighty thing, so I set it on her lap gently. She looked at it with wonder in her eyes before looking away to sneeze. I grabbed her a tissue on instinct, using it to wipe her beak clean.

She tore the paper gently, revealing a small oaken box within. It had a silver badge on the front, marking it as a Girandoni brand piece. “What is it?” She asked curiously, throwing the paper off the side of her bed. I just sat there with a smirk on my face as she fiddled with the tiny latches on the front.

“No way!” Her voice cracked from half-yelling; for inside the box was a revolver, resting in a carved recess in the center on a bed of red velvet. The underside of the lid had the manufacturer information, as well as the name of the company that customized this one for me. It came with a cleaning rod and a screwdriver with wooden bulb-handles recessed in the velvet, as well as a detailing brush; along with that was a compartment with a velvety lid, used for storing patches and other stuff for cleaning. Another recessed spot held a small glass vial of whale oil, and a row of five recessed spots would have held five .25 rimfire bullets… if I didn’t take them out already for obvious reasons.

“Finger off the trigger!” I warned her as she pulled it out gently to inspect it, dutifully keeping her booger-hook off the bang-switch. It was a small vest pocket pistol that actually looked normal sized in her hands; it fired a semi-proprietary .25 rimfire short cartridge out of a 2.5 inch barrel. It was single-action, with a recessed spur-trigger and a small eagle-head grip.

“It’s engraved, too!” She kept it pointed towards the wall as she inspected every nook and cranny, the engraved blued steel sparkled faintly in her bedroom’s light; I made sure to open it up and clean all the factory-grease and re-oiled it before presenting it to her.

“What do the grips say?” I asked, and she moved her hand to look. They were made of ivory, and had Annie carved into the right grip in a flowy calligraphy style.

“That’s my name!” Indeed it is. “How do I load it?” She asked, and I held my hand out; and taking it in my hand, I pointed towards the cylinder guide rod, right underneath the barrel. It was knurled on the end, hinting at its function.

“See this part here?” I asked her, and she nodded. “It connects to this little latch here.” It was a small button-latch on the front of the frame you simply had to press down. I held it down, slowly pulling the cylinder pin out.

Click

The cylinder swung open on a hinge at about 45 degrees, spinning as it did so. “This is your ejector rod!” I said, using the rod to push invisible bullets out of the chambers. Closing it was as simple as pushing the cylinder into place and pinning it back into place; I handed it back to her and she giggled when the cylinder popped out with its spin.

“Does… does this mean you’ll finally teach me how to shoot?” She asked with anticipation-filled hope in her voice. She’s been asking me to teach her how to shoot guns pretty much since the day she became self aware; and I intended to teach her how to handle them with the respect and reverence they deserved.

My response was a massive grin and a nod. I leaned in and she flung her arms around my neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank youuu!” Her voice sounded so weak and tiny, but it made me smile to hear her enthusiasm; despite her no-doubt feeling like utter shit, I think I made her day with that! She let go and I kissed her on the forehead. “Are we gonna shoot it when I get better?” She asked, and I nodded.

“When you get better, honey.” I explained, gently wrestling the gun from her hand and putting it back in the box. She laid back sleepily, yawning as she did so.

“How powerful is it?” She asked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I set the gun off to the side.

“Strong enough to blow someone’s head clean off, I bet.” I extended my arm towards the wall, pretending to aim a gun. “POW!” I flung my arm back, exaggerating the recoil of an imaginary gun.

Anastasia giggled faintly, “Awesome…” Her eyes began fluttering shut. “When’s breakfast? I’m tired.” She asked just as Mamma gently shoved the door, bearing even more supplies. “Gramma! Did you see my birthday present?”

Mamma set a plate with a sandwich on top of Annie’s dresser before making her way to us. The other plate just had two slices of buttered toast, which she set on the end of the bed; she carried a bag under her wing, with a bottle of milk, among other things.

“I did, deary! Sit up for me.” She commanded, my daughter sitting up so Mamma could fluff her pillows. “It’s a very nice pistol- make sure you take good care of it.” Mamma said, setting the plate of toast in Annie’s lap. “Eat your breakfast, darling. I gotta speak to your mamma.”

Anastasia sniffled, putting her arms out to signal the want for a hug; one which Mamma obliged, leaning in so Annie could wrap her arms around her neck.

“Thanks, Gramma!”

While Anastasia picked at her toast, Mamma and I stepped off to the side.

“I think it’s just regular bird flu, to be honest.” I said disdainfully, upset that my baby had to suffer on her birthday of all days. “I’ll take care of her, though. You got more than your fair share everytime I came down with something.” I set a hand on her shoulder, the two of us going for a hug.

“Ahh, bullcrap.” She said, rolling her eyes. “You’re my baby; was I supposed to just let you suffer alone?” I glanced over to Anastasia, who nibbled at her toast and occasionally took a sip of ginger ale. “I’ll help any way I can, bringing up food and drinks and stuff. You just worry about keeping my grandbaby happy. Capisce?”

I nodded, looking off to the side misty-eyed. “I… I can’t thank you enough for all the stuff you did for me growing up.” This woman had the patience of a saint. “You’re… You mean the world to me, Mamma. I love you.” A nostalgic tear rolled down my cheek, Mamma giggling as she used a thumb to wipe that cheek, leaning in to whisper-

“I love you too, baby. Believe me- she sees you the same way you always saw me.”

!!!

My eyes shot open upon realization, a hand covering the expression of shock on my beak. It morphed into a smile when I realized how right she was. She wordlessly pulled me in for a hug, one which I was hesitant to break apart from; but she broke it first, as I would need to get back to the task at hand.

“I made you an egg and bacon sandwich with tomato.” She gestured towards my breakfast, which made my mouth water. “On toast, with cheese and a little bit of mayo.” music to my ears.

“Thanks, Mamma.” I said as she made her way out.

“Get better soon, Annie! That way we can have a big party for you!” Mamma said as she made her way out, Anastasia gasping in excitement.

“Okay, Gramma!” She said, “Mamma, I’m full.” she shoved the barely-touched slice of toast towards the end of the bed, and I moved to take care of it.

Well, whatever. I wanted to spend more time with Annie anyway; fuck the world, it can wait. My baby’s sick- she needs me!

“Are you sure you’ll make it home in time for our date?” Trixie whined as Glimmer was going over her to-do list for the day. She rolled her eyes, reaching to hug and kiss her wife goodbye for the day.

“I told you, we’ll get there in time!” She reiterated with a giggle, “This house came with responsibilities and perks. Believe me, you won’t have to worry about a long line.”

Ever since she was made, Leona gave her a proper income so she could afford a lovely townhouse in the city. It had a garage at the base level, the main area on the second floor, and bedrooms on the third. It was compact- but not cramped. Occasionally she gets some “chores” to do, but mostly she has to write for her underground Equestrian newspaper, called The Majority!

They stared lovingly into each other's eyes, kissing once more goodbye. As far as her wife was concerned, however, Starlight was daylighting as a union delegate. In some ways, however, it was true-ish. She glanced in the mirror to adjust the collar on her vest, ensuring it lined up perfectly with the buttons on her shirt. Her purse was slung over her shoulder, half-pack of cigarettes and lighter were floated into her vest pocket.

“And I really wish you’d cut back on smoking!” Her wife nagged- but Glimmer just chuckled.

“I know, I know! I’m limiting myself to one per hour.” she reassured, holding her keys in her magic as she made her way down the steps. Her car sat in the garage with the roof folded back- its stepped side trims were matte black, contrasted with the chrome bumpers and radiator trims- all complimented with the burgundy paint. It had white-walls guarded by swooped fenders with a spare on the back.

Her garage door opener hummed as it let some natural light in, the cool morning breeze feeling refreshing along Glimmer’s fur. She put the key to battery and held the fire switch, the eight cylinder engine roaring to life; but unlike Leona’s monstrous Straight-8 engined car, her car sported the newer V8 technology, making the cars overall length shorter.

She lit a cigarette as she backed out, looking over her shoulder to watch for other cars down her street. It was a narrow brick-paved road which thankfully opened up quickly; the main avenue was lined with brick apartment buildings, with shops and businesses occupying the main levels. The closer to the heart of the city she got, office buildings started cropping up, and soon she couldn’t even see the tops of some of these buildings without craning her neck upward.

But soon, she was past the city center, entering a more residential neighborhood. A few more streets, she’d reach her destination- some small apartment near the old Rookeries. She parked in front of the driveway, not caring if the occupant would have to drive out or not. Grabbing her (rather large) purse, she approached the door.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

“Coming!” The occupant yelled through the door. Glimmer just stood there, though- waiting. “Can I help you?” The bluish-grey griffon poked her head through the door cautiously, as if she knew she was in trouble.

“Gabby Gums? Or, Gabriella?” The woman’s eyes widened, and Glimmer’s magic was already holding the door open when she tried to slam it shut. “It’s nice to finally meet you! My friends wanted to congratulate you on your journalistic integrity, in regards to the Naysay investigation. That’s all!”

Gabby stopped struggling to shut the door… and that was all Glimmer needed; the door flung open, knocking the home’s occupant back onto her flanks, her arms flailing upwards in an attempt to guard.

“Oof! Wait, plea-!”

THWACK!

The right side of her face exploded in pain as a brass-shoed hoof dashed into it, the front door slamming shut behind the two. She felt blood slowly leak down her cheek, the brute force of the hoof splitting her skin open. A faint blue glow held her by the collar of her neck, bringing her eye-level with her attacker.

“No, no, no, please! I-I’m sorry! I’m sor-mmf!” She begged as she was forced into her kitchen chair, the invader wrapping duct-tape around her beak.

“Two fuckin’ times you were told to keep your beak shut!” Glimmer barked as her victim struggled, magic gluing her to the chair. “Two fuckin’ times we asked you! But you just had to keep pushing the Naysay issue!”

“Mmmf! Mf, mmmmhmmMm!” Glimmer rolled her eyes, pulling a derringer and a dictionary out of her bag.

“This’ll muffle the shot, hopefully.” Starlight wasn’t a fan of loud noises, to say the least. Her victim shook in fear and terror, the dictionary being pressed to her chest; Starlight’s derringer pressing against the middle of the book.

“Mf!Mf!Mf!Mf!” She might have been just repeating no over and over again. “Mmhmm! Mf! Mffff!” Tears were streaming down her face.

“You fucked up, Gabby.” Starlight said with a shrug. The hammer on her .38 Derringer pulled itself back slowly.

BANG!

Starlight cringed at the sound of gunfire, almost unable to stop herself from clutching her hooves to her ears. Sulfury smoke filled the air, mixing with the smell of burning paper; the front of the dictionary was singed, and her victim stared at her, eyes wide open… breathing heavily.

“No kidding?” Starlight muttered to herself, flipping the dictionary open and letting the bullet fall out with a tink. “It only made it to the ‘R’s’!” Tears poured down the face of her victim as she shook violently. Starlight leaned in uncomfortably close. “Next time? There’ll be no next time.”

Her victim sobbed meekly, magic tearing the tape off her beak. She sucked in a deep breath of air as Starlight reiterated- “Whatever happened to Naysay, it’s in our hands to investigate. Got it?” beak clenched shut, she nodded rapidly, and Starlight kicked the chair over before turning to leave as her victim fell roughly to the floor.

Shutting the door behind her, she lit up a smoke before hopping in her car, starting the engine, and peeling off. She soon found herself at the Mini-Bargain’s gas station, where an attendant filled up her car while she used their payphone.

“Leona speaking.” She heard the Don’s voice on the phone.

“That journalist ain’t gonna be a problem anymore. I talked to her.” Starlight said, lighting up her third smoke that day.

“How’d that dictionary trick work out?” Leona asked, Starlight chuckling in response. I taught her that because she… really didn’t like the sudden percussion of gunfire.

“It made the shot quieter- but it only made it to the R’s!” Starlight shrugged, “But I left her alive- she got the hint.”

“But I left her alive- she got the hint.”

I just shrugged in response. “Yeah, that’s fine. I wasn’t expecting that baby-gun of yours to make it through anyway.” I chuckled with a smirk, which I’m sure was met with an eye-roll.

“Pointing a gun at someone is somehow more effective than pointing a horn at someone… for some reason.” She grumbled to herself, and I shrugged.

“You gotta remember the psychological aspect of a gun. You point a gun at someone, they know what the piece is capable of.” I half-rambled, as this is something I occasionally pondered. “But some unicorn looks at you funny? Maybe they can give you an aneurysm with a glare or turn you into a frog; but how often is that really the case?”

“...True…” She mumbled, and I added-

“Granted, I know which column you fall under. But your average Jane-Jerkoff like that nosey fuckin’ journalist? Eh, another face in the crowd.” I shrugged- “But, yeah- I appreciate you takin’ care of that for me. It’s been a hectic morning taking care of Anastasia.

“Eh, no big deal. I wanted an excuse to get out of the house anyway.” Fair enough, fair enough. “Did you want me to call you back once I collect off that doctor?” She asked- and a flash of remembrance flashed across my face.

“Oh, fuck! Nah, you don’t need to do that! He’s here.” I blushed slightly, rubbing the side of my head. “I uh… I forgot he would be coming here anyway. I was gonna call you, I swear!”

“Nah, it’s alright. Lil’ Annie is counting on you!” Starlight giggled, and I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Yeah, no kiddin’!” I glanced back over to Annie’s bed, where my wife’s doctor was finishing Annie’s checkup. “But, I gotta go. Make sure that wife of yours has a good time tonight!”

“Hye-ha! Can do!” Click.

I hung up the receiver and turned to the doctor, gesturing for him to take a few steps away from Annie’s bed so we could talk.

“What’s the diagnosis, Docta’ Feel-Good?” I exaggerated his name because I couldn’t help but think of the Motley Crue song every time I addressed him.

He rolled his eyes with a groan, rubbing his temple with a hoof. “Dr. Good. Please.” He sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t wipe the smug grin off my face. “And it’s a simple case of bird flu- if you’re worried for your wife or her foal, then it’s unwarranted.”

That was relieving news, at least. “Could be worse then.” I looked him in the eye- “I appreciate you taking a look.”

“Of course- and if her fever doesn’t break after four days, I’d recommend taking her to the ER. But she should be fine.” He looked off to the side, “Will that go towards what I owe, or-” He asked, and I rolled my eyes.

“Rest assured- that will go towards the debt you owe me. I’ll figure the numbers out later.” It’s not like I was letting him go broke and destitute- I was giving him a living, but not the exorbitant fee he was demanding. “Remember- just be glad you’re not in Ross’s debt.” I put a hand to his back as I guided him towards the door, and he gulped. “I wouldn’t be able to stop him from coming for your kneecaps.”

I gave him a wide smirk as he turned to quickly shake my hand; Dee was waiting out in the hallway, and she quickly took his place.

“Annie, baby! I’m here!” She said as we strutted to the bedside.

“Hey, Mommy.” Her voice was still soft and weak. “I’m sick…” She muttered, finally realizing what I’ve been trying to tell her. This was her first time admitting that out loud. “Does my kid-sister know yet?”

Dee and I shared a giggle, “Know what? That you’re a little under the weather?” She said, Annie looking off to the side strangely.

“You know- If… if I don’t make it-”

“Hey!”
“What!?”

Dee and I now looked at each other with concern in her eyes, Anastasia just lay there with a dopey look on her face.

“Anastasia, why the fuck would you think that?” She just shrugged, probably dazed from her fever.

“It happens in books and stuff- people get sick, then they die.” She explained like it was a fact of life; almost like she thought I was trying to keep that “obvious” fact from her.

“What? Are we living in a book?” Dee chastised sarcastically, but I held a hand up, looking my baby in the eyes.

“What your mother is trying to say is that life’s not like a storybook. You’ve been sick before, but you’re still here, right?” I asked, and she blinked, glancing to the side- possibly in thought. She had gotten colds before- but to be fair, this is the worst I’ve seen her. “Look at me, Anastasia.”

I took her tiny hand in mine to get her attention; her big amber eyes looked back at me, just as beautiful as the day I first beheld them.

“No-one’s dying, Anastasia. Please, get that thought out of your head.” After a few moments, she nodded slowly.

“Okay, Mamma. I’m sorry…” She looked to the side like she was gonna cry, but I held her chin up.

“I’m not upset. You’re a smart girl, and I’m proud of you. Just… there’s no point in assuming the worst. Alright?” Finally she smiled, and I patted her shoulder before kissing her forehead. Dee looked at me from across the bed with mild surprise in her eyes. I just shrugged.

“Well… Anastasia, make sure you get lots of rest, honey.” Dee said as she leaned in for a hug and a kiss. “Mommy has work to do today…” Anastasia nodded with a smile.

“It’s okay, Mommy.” was all she said before rolling over for a nap.

As we walked away, I elbowed Dee’s shoulder lightly, gesturing for her to follow me into the hallway. I shut the door behind us, for now.

“You almost handled it like your mother would’ve.” I said, more concerned than disappointed. She nodded, glancing off to the side. “Sarcastically yelling at her won’t fix anything, you know that!”

“I know!” She yelled, causing me to flinch. “I was caught off guard, alright?” She glanced off to the side with a huff, and I wrapped my arms around her.

“It’s alright honey, I’m not upset!” I reassured, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “I’m just… concerned, is all! You remember when we were younger? You thought her constant verbal abuse was normal!”

I don’t even remember which conversation started that, to be honest. We were teens- Dee and I were only “best friends” at the time. She’d come to me in tears because her mother was being awful to her; and at the time, I was confused as to why she never went to her father. Only now do I realize it’s because if she went to her father, then he would beat her mother… feeding into the cycle of abuse.

I haven’t had it confirmed by my wife- I just connected the dots myself. Still- I’d need to have a chat with my father-in-law.

“Remember those days? You’d come crying to me about your mother, and I’d go over exactly why she was wrong about whatever she’d have to say?” She let out a heavy sigh.

“I-I know… you’re right.” She looked off to the side bashfully. “Maybe I oughta go through my old diary’s more often like you do?” She suggested with a hopeful grin, and I couldn’t help but snort as I remembered a particular entry I re-read the other day. Dee cocked an eyebrow and I explained-

“Sorry, I was remembering an entry I read the other day.” I gave her a smirk- “Remember when we first started dating? I’d ask you to do something, and you’d say ‘okay, Mommy. Sure thing.’” Dee had a faint blush on her face. “Then that one time at dinner, you asked for Mommy to pass the salt?”

Dee blushed deeply, lowering her head into her hooves. “Don’t even remind me.”

Believe me, I wasn’t too thrilled to be at that dinner table either.

I wrapped my arms around her and leaned in close- “Hey, look. It’s alright, honey.” She gave me a little smirk as we leaned in for a kiss.

Anastasia’s door creaked open, my baby looking up at us with a guilty look in her eye and a spot of something stuck to her beak.

“I frew up.”

Starlight was laying belly-down, panting heavily in delight and satisfaction. “Ah- Almost there.” She half-moaned out loud, bliss taking her mind elsewhere.

“Haah!” She gasped aloud as the masseuse finally worked that stubborn knot out of her back. Her whole body felt loose as the tension poured out of her like someone opened a tap directly to all her stress.

“Ooof… Alright, Fabien. I think I’m about ready.” She spoke aloud, removing the cucumbers that were covering her eyes; the room looked less like a sterile doctors office, and more like a lavish hotel room with wonderful drapes, tastefully patterned wallpaper, and wall-mounted gas lamps adding to the ambience. He looked at her with his eyebrows cocked, and Starlight realized- she forgot he was deaf! “Ah, right.”

A set of hands carved out of wood sat on a nearby mahogany desk; each digit had simple mechanical joints which can be posed as needed. As the counselor of the School of Friendship, she was required to learn both pony and griffonian sign-language; the former using a complex system of stomping and clacking hooves to convey speech. Other than the hands, a stack of blank papers next to some writing utensils must have been how most communicated with him.

“I’m ready to move to the bath!” She signed, and Fabien’s eyes lit up in realization. The massage table she was laying on had a built-in hydraulic device; it made it so the patient can more easily get on or off, and it also made it so the masseuse could more comfortably reach the patient. A simple press of the pedal near the base made it lower, letting Glimmer step off. “Thank you! That was absolutely wonderful! I’ll have to bring my wife next time.”

“Nghee-hee!” Fabien chuckled aloud, the tone-deaf laugh juxtaposing his handsome looks. With a bright, kind smile, his hands said- “I’d love to have you here again! And not just because it’s rare to meet someone who speaks my language!” He was joking, but Starlight had a thought- Why isn’t sign language taught in schools? She’d definitely be talking to Leona about this.

“I was a school counselor once- I get it.” She nodded, sitting on her flanks as Fabien helped put her bathrobe back on. She twisted and bent her back off to the sides, relishing the lack of pain. “Seriously, thank you. My spine doesn’t feel like it’s full of gravel anymore!”

“You’re absolutely welcome! From me, you’ll get naught but the best- why bother otherwise?” He let out that same goofy chuckle again, “Well… you’re a busy mare. Would you like me to show you to the baths?”

Starlight couldn’t help but smile as she mused, “You seem like you enjoy what you do!” Her purse, hanging on a hook by the door, floated her way.

“Of course I do! Helping people, though- that’s what I enjoy the most.” He beamed pride as she unzipped her purse. Pulling a large wad of bills out, she set them on the bed’s pillow. “Uhwahg!?” He vocalized when he saw the stack; Starlight chuckled faintly.

“Seriously. I’ll be back, maybe next week!” She giggled as his frantic hands struggled to sign… anything!

“Ahk Oough!” He vocalized again as Starlight made her way to the bathing areas. The private bathrooms were labeled with names and appointment times; her door was marked with only a number. She fished the key she was given out of her purse, entering the dark room and pressing the call button, letting the front desk know she was ready. Much like the other rooms, this one was lit by gas lanterns and had a warm, hotel-like interior.

The bathtub sat in the middle of the room, boxed in by a tile floor, ensuring water wouldn’t get all over the hardwood. She added plenty of bubble soap to the bath and turned the faucet on, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the wall.

When the tub was half-full, she lowered herself into the hot water… just in time for the bath-maid to arrive.

“Huh, perfect timing!” She said, her appearance making Starlight bite her lip; the griffon maid wore a lacy bra which highlighted her chest fluff, along with black panties and fishnets held up by garterbelts. “I’d have hated to keep such a pretty mare waiting for long.”

Starlight wasn’t dirty, by any means; she took a shower before she left the house, after all. No, this was a different kind of service. The maid would drop her sponge every now and then.

“Whoops! Gosh, why am I so clumsy?” She’d say as she bent over to pick it up, and Starlight unable to resist trying to catch a glimpse of her tight cunt; despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but spank the maid’s butt every time she stuck it in the air. “Oof! Aren’t we frisky, huh?”

“Sorry- I was smacking a fly away!” Starlight played ignorant, and the two shared a giggle. She brought the sponge down towards Starlights hind legs.

“You mind? I wanna make sure I get… everything.” Starlight nodded, blushing in anticipation as the maid let go of the sponge entirely.

“Mmmffh!” She suppressed a moan by biting on her forehoof, wondering why it’s taken her this long to experience the feeling of griffon hands.

‘No wonder Leona recommended the happy ending… goodness!’ She thought to herself, feeling like she was on top of the world.

Later that same evening, Starlight drove Trixie to the packed theater with an extra pep in her step.

“You seem cheerier than usual tonight!” Her wife noted, and Glimmer chuckled.

“I’m excited, that’s why!” coupled with the orgasm she had earlier that evening. Outside the theater, the marquee shone bright with a dazzling display of lights and colors. The facade, normally decorated and labeled with a variety of showings, were all instead dedicated to a single film. It proudly displayed:

NOW PLAYING
THE UNICORN OF OZ
STARRING:
JUDITH GHIRLANDA
IN FULL TECHNICOLOR!

“Technicolor?” Trixie mused curiously, dreading the line they’d surely have to wait in. “Is that what I think it is?” She asked as Starlight stopped the car in front of the building, handing the keys and a tip off to the valet. She opened the door to let her wife out, kissing her cheek as she got out of the car.

“It’s exactly what you think it is!” Starlight said, heading away from the back of the line and gesturing for Trixie to follow. “Hey, Jimmy! Helluva crowd tonight?” She yelled to the bouncer with a wave, eliciting a smile and a wave back. He wasn’t really a “bouncer,” rather, his job was to keep the building from overcrowding.

“Absolutely! I ain’t seen it yet, but people’ve been tellin’ me it’s beautiful!” Trixie stuck close as they headed towards a side entrance, her wife waving at the employees like she was a regular.

“You sure we’re allowed to do this?” She asked, and Starlight chuckled with a shrug.

“No-one’s stopped us, right?” It was true, Trixie supposed. Starlight turned towards the manager, “Brucie! Our seats ready yet?”

“Oh, Starlight! I was wondering when you’d show up!” Trixie glanced at the crowd of people as they were led into the theater proper. “Right this way!”

“Hold on, I thought there weren’t any more seats?” Trixie heard someone complain from the line of people who were waiting. In the front row, dead center, there were several empty seats… as well as three-seats behind where they were sitting.

“I saw it earlier- believe me, it’s a work of art!” the manager said as he escorted them to their seats; the neighboring chairs actually had little trays on them where they could put stuff.

“Appreciate it, Bruce!” Starlight said, allowing the manager to return to work; theater attendants brought them a bottle of red wine with accompanying glasses and a large bucket of popcorn, which Starlight set in her lap.

“Whew!” She breathed out a sigh, using her telekinesis to slide cloth sheathes over their horns. “It’s so our horns glowing doesn’t distract anyone.” She set her hoof in her wifes lap, relishing her blushy smile.

“What… what do you do for a living? Seriously?” Trixie asked, and Starlight waved her off with a giggle.

“I told you- I grease the unions, make sure it all runs smoothly.” She said as she poured their glasses of wine.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” The manager stood on the stage and spoke, getting everyone’s attention. “Just as a final reminder, please be mindful of your fellow moviegoers all throughout! To ensure the best possible viewing experience for everyone, please be courteous to others… especially if you have kids.”

This got a few chuckles from the audience, Starlight included.

“Without further adieu… The Unicorn of Oz!” He bowed as he got off the stage, attendants pulling ropes to open the curtains. The lights dimmed slowly before a large one illuminated the screen.

Starlight leaned into her wife, taking a sip of her wine as the studio’s logo was shown, featuring a lioness roaring.

Trixie watched in wonder as the house seemingly flew through the air! Having seen plenty of movies before, she was well used to sepia tone… and that’s why at this point in the movie, she nearly forgot a crucial part of the movie’s advertising.

The girl left her home with a look of fear and trepidation on her face; the audience mirrored her shock as they all gasped aloud when the outside revealed greenery! Literal greenery! Flowers of many colors dominated the foreground; the background was an unrecognizable landscape, almost dream-like in its whimsical representation. There were oddly shaped mountains and trees in the distance, and the only purpose-made structure seemed to be a golden brick road.

“Tommy… I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” Kansas wasn’t a real place- it was simply made up for the film.

“Meow!” Her cat responded, playing in the leaves. Whispers sprang up in the theater- Look at that; I’ve never seen anything like it; How did they do it?

Starlight looked at her wife, smiling as she took in her look of total wonder and amazement. Her wife was adorable- and she belonged to her. She kissed her wife on the cheek, eliciting a giggle.

“I love you, darling.” Starlight whispered in her wifes ear.

“I love you toooo~” She whispered back, kissing Starlight on the cheek.

Anastasia awoke to the smell of burning; dazed, she looked around her room and saw her mother, writing at one the desks she would sit at in school. There was an inkwell on the corner, something she’d never used before, while her Mamma wrote with a pencil.

Oh, and her entire room was on fire.

“Wha- Ma!” She shouted, her mother just shrugging.

“What?” She asked, tossing the pencil into the flames. “Everything’s fine.” She reached for the inkwell and took a swig; obviously, the inkwell was full of alcohol.

“Mamma!” She chastised, unable to get out of bed. “Why are you drinking?” was the only question she could think to ask.

“Because you won’t leave me. You won’t run away.” Her mother shrugged, taking another swig of inkwell. “Because I won’t look for you. Your kid-sister can just be a replacement.”

The room seemed to go dead cold, the flames receding and turning into frost which lined her walls. Mamma sipped the inkwell.

“You’re a smart girl. I told you nothing was wrong!” She said with a shrug, falling to the floor with a thud.

Anastasia finally awoke with a gasp, frantically looking around her bedroom. Her Mamma lay on a rollout cot, snoring away. She wiped tears from her eyes as she got out of bed. Since her Mamma was on her side, she could easily squirm her way into her mothers arms, back resting against her belly.

Anastasia stirring in my arms is what woke me up that night; so I lifted my arm to make room for her.

“Thanks, Mamma…” She whispered as I snuggled her, noting that her fever felt much better to the touch.

“Of course, baby.” I draped my wing over her as I tried to get some shuteye.

…

“Mamma?” She asked, and I hummed. “Will I always be your favorite daughter?” She asked, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Don’t tell your sister- but yeah. You’ll always be my baby… Always…” I kissed the back of her head, “Promise me you won’t tell!”

Anastasia giggled, “I promise, Mamma.”

I squeezed her a little tighter. “Good night, baby. Try and get some rest.”

“I will, Mamma.” She muttered, shutting her eyes to try and sleep.

I didn’t care if I got sick- I could deal with it. My baby’s suffering- I’m perfectly happy to try and take that away from her in whatever ways I could.

She’s my everything.

Author's Note

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

Sorry this took so long! Work's been friggin' exhausting this week :p

As always, thanks so much for reading! Likes and comments are greatly appreciated :3