Last Stop on the Mail Route

I'm walking back from Twilights library machinations brewing in the mind. If I could pull it off, I might not even need to get a job around here. Not really a long-term solution, but baby steps.

I'm so distracted, I almost don't even notice her -- It's a distant sneer that I half-presume is meant for me that draws me out of my thoughts. I pause, glancing around.

Up ahead, there's a Pony couple passing a lamp-post. They're looking up at it as they do--frowning, shaking their head, muttering and moving on.

I follow their line of sight up, and nearly double-take.

Derpy. Her saddle-bag is wrapped around the top of the now slightly-bent lamp post, and she's dangling from it, stuck in a weird position that doesn't let her use her wings, hooves, or mouth to get out of it.

I quicken my pace, as much as my leg allows, crossing the rest of the plaza and pausing underneath the streetlamp, resting a hand on it. Since it's sized for Ponies, I can almost reach her.

"Hey Derpy." I ask, softly. No real need to yell, considering she was only like a foot or two above my head.

She glances around, confused, distracted from trying to wrest herself free with her mouth. The moment she realizes it's me, however, a blush takes her face, and she partially hides behind her hooves.
"Oh! Hey Anon." She mutters.

"Just, uh... hanging out?" I snicker, smiling.

Seems my smile is contagious. She smiles a little herself.

I reach up, placing a hand on her hoof. She glances away, but doesn't move. Then again, she doesn't really have a choice right now.

"...You want some help getting down?" I follow up, keeping my voice soft.

"Oh, n-no, it's alright. I don't want to be a bother. I'll get down... eventually... though I'm gonna be running late... I hope Dinky feeds herself..." She starts to mumble.

"Hey, no bother at all. I'm probably the only one around here without magic that can actually reach. Let me help. It's no trouble, promise." I assure her.

She's hesitant, but eventually, Derpy nods.
"My strap is stuck..." She motions, having twisted around on impact, securing herself awkwardly.

Reaching up and stretching my arms above me, I feel out the saddlebag and its straps, looking for the buckle. Easiest to pop it off for the moment, then re-secure it once she's free. My hands brush her soft fur a few times, but proximity is required for this. I try to remain polite about it, and try to keep talking so it's a little less awkward.

"Ponies around here usually that... unhelpful?" I ask softly, nodding in the direction of the couple, now across the plaza.

"N-no! No, they... used to help me. And still do! They didn't even mind so much when I bumped into things, or make a mess, or get stuck. But, I guess I do it so much, they got... tired of it. That's okay, though, I get it. I don't mind. I always get myself down or clean up, eventually." Derpy responds, watching my hands. I think. Hard to track where she's looking from this position, but the smile on her face fades slightly.
"Oh, but... Twilight and her friends always try to help me. Usually."
She tries to fix her smile, and its pretty convincing... but I'm starting to pick up when this mare is forcing it.

And what does she mean, usually?

"Well, hey. Anytime you're in a situation, you can always call on me. That's what friends are for, yeah?" I offer, giving her a reassuring smile. Her face tucks behind her hooves.

"A-are you sure? I-" She stutters.

"Absolutely." I interrupt, reaffirming my stance.

"...Thank you." She mumbles. She clearly wants to say more, but, dangling from a lamp post in the middle of Ponyvilles Square might not be the best place for it, opting to save it for later.

I finally manage to find the clasp, and start working it open. My time spent trying to free Derpy gives me a good chance to look it over; its an old Saddlebag, worn with age, but far from in disrepair. The care put into keeping it maintained is pretty clear, with a few hoof-sewn patches and a few buttons clearly newer than the others.

Suddenly, the clasp gives, and Derpy is free--and about to fall. There's a second where I consider if letting her catch herself with her wings is best, but before that thought has even found its conclusion, the freckled-grey mare is held softly in my arms. Her face holds a deep blush, hiding a smile. Shit, Dinky wasn't kidding.

It's a little awkward to make do, but I kneel to set her down, before pushing back up and unwrapping the saddlebag off the light post.

"Oh, you don't need to--" She starts, but quickly falls silent as I bring the sling the saddlebag over her. She watches my hands, re-clasping it around the mailmare and tugging it secure.

"There you are. All set?" I ask, leaning to check its snugness, giving her sides a soft tap.

Derpy gives it a testing wiggle, before flapping her wings. She looks up at me, smiling, before hugging my leg.

Shit, man. Those cute-ass smiles run in the family.

"Thank you. I-I should get going, I'm already behind on my route." Derpy says, letting go and trotting back a few hoofsteps.

"Yeah, of course. Fly safe, Derpy, and say hey to Dinky for me. Oh, and tell her she left her Hoofstory homework on my table."

Derpy looks confused for a second, frowning slightly.
"... That little Filly, I told her to stop bothering you. I'm sorry, Anon--"

"No, no, it's all good. She's a sweetheart, no trouble at all. I appreciate the company." I retort. Good to know Dinky is a little liberal with the information she parts.

"Are you sure, Anon? I appreciate everything you've done, but I don't want Dinky to intrude."

I hold my hands up, shaking my head.
"You and Dinky are welcome over anytime. Knock, or use the window if it's open." I chuckle.

"O-oh. Oh! Uh... alright." Derpy trails off, rubbing one hoof with the other. "If she behaves. But she's grounded for fibbing, first of all. After, she, uh... gets her homework."

"Sounds fine to me, Derpy."

I wave as the mailmare takes an unsteady lift-off, but thankfully, she doesn't impact anything else as she looks behind herself, waving back to me.

I scratch my chin, starting my walk back towards my house. I need a shave.

It's been about a week since that incident.

Had a talk with Twilight, once she actually got some sleep. She offered me a few bits for the plants, citing them as uncommonly gathered herbs that she could run a few tests on. Fair enough.

Asked her about how the town reacts to Derpy. They try to help when they can, but, most of the time they aren't in the area. Dash is the only one who commonly sees her, but apparently an incident involving a storm-cloud and one of the towns buildings put a sour taste in Dashes mouth, and now she tries to ignore Derpy. I guess the Element of Loyalty can be selective.

Dinky came by, yet didn't seem downtrodden from being grounded. Something about her mom happily trotting around the house. Plus, it was only like three days before the filly was knocking on my door again.

I've ran into Derpy a few more times since then; thankfully, no incidents that she needed help from. Sometimes I catch her dropping mail off at my house; sometimes, I get home and find them neatly sorted on the table. She's getting pretty good at landing through my window without making a mess. Now and then I'll bump into her on the street, and we'll pause for a bit, chatting. Tried to invite her for a coffee, but she just doesn't have the time. She does get Sundays off, though... might ask her about that.

In the meantime, I've had some time to brew on my thoughts. I wasn't going to piss around town trying to do odd jobs, and the skills I had to offer were... not in high demand around here. Maybe if I felt like moving to Griffonia, but... pass. I had a reason to stay here, and she had bubbles on her butt. So instead, I'd do something that I knew how to do... that I'd try to avoid talking about when I was done.

I asked Twilight about the Diamond dogs; fairly troublesome, with stealing from Ponies and even enslaving them, though their territorial nature keeps them from encroaching. This should work out, then, without too much moral issue. Raiders and Slavers. I can work with that.

Sat on my couch, I've got my hunting gear spread out on my coffee table. Sent Dinky home about an hour ago; don't want this being known. I've got my rifle laid out, slightly dissembled for maintenance. A Model 70 Alaskan, chambered in .30-06; I peek through the scope, rubbing the end softly with a cloth to clear a smudge. I have about 20 rounds for it, enough for three reloads after I've filled it once. Kind of wish I had more, but that's all I had stuffed in my bag before I wound up here; and honestly, I don't want to rely on this method. I want to use it like a springboard. I keep the spare rounds in a small pouch on my belt for hand-loading, no magazines.

I pick up one of the bullets, slowly inspecting it, its brass casing glinting softly in the midday sun that peers through my window. I'd need to make sure I clean up after. Don't leave behind any casings, and dig the bullet out of the target.

Content with the maintenance, I reassemble the gun, pack my things, and sling it over my shoulder.

Locking my door, I trek for the mountains.