Equestrian Ranger

Nopony knew his name, why would they? An unimportant street rat with an unassuming visage lost within a sea of hundreds. Before meeting his lord, he’d been no different from every half-witted country bumpkin in Appleoosa, playing their songs and dances. Sure, unlike most, his past life hadn’t exactly lived up to any overachieving standard. But, nopony wanted to hear some faceless pony’s sob story.

Nevertheless, bubbling deep inside the sadistic stallion’s chest, regret fueled his rising fear.

Regret for abandoning his family.

Regret for ruining his life.

Regret for his sins.

BANG! BANG!

Going against his lord’s imperishable command bit his flank, hard. Somepony, or something, was targeting him. Utilizing stacked barrels for cover, he shakingly reloaded his rifle, the sadistic stallion’s vision swam, labored breaths and chattering teeth letting loose rounds fall to his unsteady hooves. An utter fucking joke. His crackpot plan all but shitted the bed, and he alone stood to bear its fallout. Their fires were extinguished by now, Appleossians long since taking shelter and fleeing or arresting their (still living) disorganized detainers, and law enforcement sought retribution for their injured sheriff. Worst yet, his brother and sisters, no- these dirty pack rats were dropping like the useless flies they were. Worthless pieces of dragon dung; how did his lord see worth in those fodder bodies?

“Sir! Please, give us an orde-!” BANG! Yelping, blood, gray meaty matter, and bone fragments erupted in a gorey spray, the minotaur rushing toward his position crumbled instantly, legs buckling and his mangled head crashing. Sub-zero chills rocked the sadistic stallion's body, the minotaur’s eyes twitching in his direction before ultimately glossing over.

BANG!

Another projectile disintegrating the side of a barrel inches beside his head, the sadistic stallion hauled flank, keeping his skull down.

An utter fucking joke.

‘Shit! Shit! I-I gotta get out of here!’ Narrowly avoiding another shot, he snapped left, hoping the rows of buildings protected him. ‘The lord will never forgive me, but I’m cooked if I stay here and fight! Hear me, Your Majesty, I want to repent!’

Mentally praying for redemption, he failed to duck a banana-yellow hoof leveled with his eyes, resulting in the sadistic stallion falling backward and skidding across the ground. Shaking off his daze and stinging pain, a lean-muscular stallion wearing a brown vest and stetson rounded his hiding corner, standing over his prone him.“Where do you think you’re going, partner?” Retrieving bundled rope from under his hat, the stetson-wearing stallion unfurled what turned out to be a lasso. “You with those hooligans mucking my town?” He added, sounding nearly wavered.

Leaving his query unanswered, the sadistic stallion quickly stood, hoisting his rifle without pause, already compressing its trigger.

However, no bullets were fired.

Faster than he could react, the lasso, seemingly alive, snatched his rifle barrel and forcefully yanked, ripping his weapon aside. “Wha-” Next thing he knew, two yellow hooves contacted his muzzle, staggering the sadistic stallion’s senses, and breaking his nose. Luckily, dodging the secondary buck and jumping back, he recovered a gambler’s dagger strapped to his left foreleg, conjuring an empty void of safety separating him and his attacker.

“Braeburn. Nice seeing you.” He sarcastically greeted, snarling. “You still look as air-headed as you did years ago.”

The prime applebucker jeered, wrinkling his muzzle. “I can’t say the same, Shimmering Comet.” Braeburn, twirling his lasso, snarked at Comet’s foalish jab, brows furrowed. However, a subtle surprise infected Comet’s scorn.

He…remembered his name?

He remembered.

Bitterly chuckling, Shimmering Comet leisurely waved the knife between his teeth. “You were one of the good ones, Brae. It almost makes me feel bad for what I’m going to do.” Kicking off, Comet charged the prepared Braeburn, reeling his neck and thrusting forward.

Braeburn easily sidestepped Comet’s clumsy spearing, one hoof gripping a rope end, his mouth securing the other as he trapped Comet's unprotected neck, tying a sturdy- but not suffocating -knot while tackling the knife-wielding steed. Of course, Comet fought his weight, but Braeburn had practiced wrestling plenty of unruly hogs beforehoof, making it effortless to affix Comet’s tied neck and right forehoof together. Comet eventually pushed the cow stallion off, but, standing, he struggled to balance on his three free hooves with his head and hoof angled strangely.

Oh, and Bareburn’s rope was still attached.

Giving a single hearty tug, Braeburn’s free hoof nearly dislocated the hurling Comet’s jaw, causing him to tumble, which Braeburn fixed by repeating his paddle ball borage three or four times. Teeth and spittle flying in this and that direction, Comet’s disconnected mind didn’t fully register Braeburn relieving his grip sometime later and giving a finish buck, whipping his head back.

>~~~~~<

“Howdy, partner, you’re looking down. You want to talk?” He despised Braeburns smile, his can-do attitude, and his ever-present radiance. Comet hated every centimeter of Appleoosa’s prime apple farmer and his face. “I just ordered a fresh pie, you want some too?” Why? One, ponies like Comet had a snowball’s chance in July gaining such a positive disposition when their stomachs ate themselves constantly.

Second?

“Yeah? Well, alrighty then, come along, friend!”

He couldn’t resist it.

>~~~~~<

“Where’re you going, Comet?!” Trying to drown his begging father's words out with the drizzling rain, he gritted his teeth, refusing to stop. “Come back, I’m sorry for what I said- I didn’t mean it. You need help!”

Nopony would miss him, Braeburn too. “They’re all the same.” He hissed.

>~~~~~<

“Rise, and be reborn.” His lord soothingly ordered, and he happily obliged. “Reveal the cruelties of this world to its burdened children, and herald the coming of a new age of peace and unity. Burn past ties, forget binding faces, abandon your weaknesses- they have no place in our utopia, my brother.” Bowing beneath his lord’s piercing, yet benevolent, eyes, warm liquid traced tribal patterns from his forehead to his chest, ending above his heart.

And despite his gospel, Braeburn’s repulsing face ruined Comet's pleasant thoughts, dampening his content smile.

>~~~~~<

D-Did…his life flash before his eyes?

“It’s a crying shame, partner,” Anchoring his awareness of the current situation, he heard Braeburn solemnly sigh, shaking his head sadly. “You were the nicest colt I knew, Comet. What happened?” He frowned.

Bound, his hooves and head touching each other with Braeburn sitting atop his midsection, Comet’s bottom lip quivered. Frustration. Frustration seeped into every crease and fold his body had. Because he lost? No, he realized he never stood a chance. Because he failed his lord? Somewhat. In reality, Comet’s heart burned hotter than any sun, tears soiling his eyes, because an immense- borderline foal-like -loneliness dominated his thoughts.

He remembered. Braeburn, nopony else.

Starving, lying amongst alley possums and rats, balancing the thin line of life and death, Braenurn shined like his sole ray of hope. His Mom and Dad too. Comet hadn’t thought about his worried parents since he fled; where were they?

Hopefully, they aren’t hurt.

Withholding tears, Comet hid his face as best as he could.

“I-I…don’t know.”

He threw everything away for nothing.

“Show’s done, boy. The pony folk have it from here.” Storing the binoculars and rising, Finn dusted himself off and began walking to the horses waiting at the cliff-sides base. “Hold onto my rifle in case somebody gets funny and jumps us. Other than that, let’s go say hi.” James mumbled an affirmative response.

Messaging his burning eyes, James slung the rifle over his shoulder and shadowed the older lawman, mounting his horse. “I hear you loud and clear.”

January 14, 1912

-Day 3

I’ll keep this brief.

Regardless of James’s ridiculous ramblings, we might’ve encountered aliens- I’m reigning in my expectation, mostly to avoid feeling like an idiot later. I ain’t an expert on space men science and whatever junk James’s interested in, but colorful ponies with wings, horns, and, generally, off-putting proportions for ponies aren’t anything I’ve seen. Are there more? Their town looks human, but James and I are alone here, so I’ll assume it’s theirs.

‘Reminds me of home.

Anyways, these ponies appeared friendly- at least the ones getting attacked. We’re dropping by, to see if they’ll give us food and water, but I’m also making sure James doesn't miss any attackers. I hope we don’t frighten ‘em, the innocent folk, James and I have more than plenty of misfortune lately.

“Heads up!”

Stowing his journal and facing forth, the quaint-sized town’s welcoming sign greeted the stranded Texas Rangers, faded depictions of smiling ponies and apples border cursive lettering spelling out ‘Welcome to Appleoosa.’ James snorted, the obvious pun making his eyes tumble. “Huh. Look, you’re famous, boy!” Finn chortled, gently patting his appaloosa’s thick barrel, earning a satisfied nicker. “I’ll say, James, I’m shaking in my boots over here- what with this uninviting sign and all.”

Snorting at Finn's playful jab, James flicked his horse’s reins, sauntering onward, passing the evident, unassuming lure. “Let’s get this over with, old man.” Finn chuckled, maintaining an even pace beside his partner.

Suffocating suspense swayed their nerves with each hoof fall their mounts took, finding themselves trending unfamiliar, and potentially, hostile territory. Finn knew how humans were, meeting people who looked different- who’s to say the ponies were different? Forget skin color or cultural background, this’s an utterly separate species! He’d witnessed countless people who’ve clung to their vitriolic prenotions and caused harm because of it, fools caring about pointless things and making everybody else’s day worse. If most of these ponies acted no different, pleading for nourishment would be harder than he thought.

Turning a corner, Finn and James halted their horses, laser-focused on a rotting roadblock.

“This’ll be fun to explain.” James soberly commented, nose wrinkled in revolution.

The fly-ridden, bipedal bull’s corpse wasn’t friendless; multiple bodies littered the streets, red staining walls, wagons, barrels, and food stands as they rode on. Reaching what resembled a town square, Finn grimly tallied ten and counting, frozen faces of fear and panic etched into his thoughts.

How is it possible for somebody to fumble this bad on a raid? Finn encountered his fair share of two-cent bandit gangs and looney highway robbers during his service, but this was the sorriest incursion attempt he’d seen yet. Once his bullets began flying, they disbanded like startled roaches hiding in a basement corner. He could’ve boiled tea and taken a thirty-minute nap and it would’ve lasted longer than this.

Still, not all bodies belong to the aggressors.

Rare, but not uncommon, Finn spotted at least three regular, everyday ponies and counting. Missing signs of defense wounds- damaged forelegs, cut hooves, etc. -so it’d likely result from the deliberate, mindless killing or an accident during the panic. A baby wielding a revolver might not be as dangerous as a man with one, but it’s still a gun-toting baby.

Even the most brain-dead moron can kill, given the opportunity, no matter how experienced.

Either way, it left a bad taste in his mouth.

James exhaled shakingly, his gaze rotating on a frantic swivel, insightful eyes scanning the bloodied killing floor. “I don’t feel right- it’s too quiet. Where are they?” Searching the barren town square, Finn’s eyes settled on muted-colored wood walls, stone pillars, and an elegant sign reading Town Hall. Nearing the two-story structure, he climbed off his horse and ascended shallow steps leading to dual mahogany doors.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Anybody there? It’s safe, come on out!” adding a third knock, Finn stepped aside.

Seconds later, muffled locks clattered and shifted, unoiled hinges groaned as the left side door cracked open, revealing sun-washed darkness and the outlines of interior furniture.”W-Who’s there? I don’t recognize your voice- you ain’t from here, are you?” Unprepared for the timid lady’s cutting inquiry, Finn stammered quietly.

‘She’s avoiding looking outside.’ He thought, noting a light-steel hoof, thicker than his calf, tightly clutching the inner brass knob.

Finn corrected himself, coughing into his closed fist. “I’m, uh, Finn Cullen, senior ranger of the Texas Rangers. Are you hurt, Mrs…”

“...Big Iron. And no, I’m fine.” The faceless woman reluctantly said. “And I never heard hair nor hide of any ‘Texas Rangers.’ Are you one of them thugs who attacked us? Leave, you’re outnumbered!” Trimming the fat of her intimidating, warning tone, Finn detected traces of fear and uneven breathing driven by adrenaline. He’s lurking through a sensitive minefield with hairpin triggers.

Combing his beard, Finn switched to James waiting at the stair’s bottom. “Well, luckily for you, Missy, we’re not. In fact, I may be so bold as to say we, my partner and I, helped you lot.” The woman (mare?) gasped quietly, hoof flinching, “If we met face to face right now, I’ll explain ourselves.” He said. Removing the homespun star badge pinned to his shirt’s breast, Finn slotted the rustic disc between the gaping doors and pulled it back moments later.

The faceless mare, Finn self-corrected, either considered ignoring his invitation or contemplated hollering for backup. Surprisingly, Big Iron’s mighty hoof completed the door's sluggish outward swing, clip-clop, and fully emerged.

Wide ruby-red eyes started at his plain belt buckle, gradually rising and rising, her perplexion and mild wonder swelling until landing on his grizzled, warmly smiling features. A polished steel-colored, freckled pony three-quarters his size wordlessly stared, thick, braided orange hair coiling around her sturdy barrel like a sleeping viper, tipped with a crimson ribbon bow. Adorning her bulky frame was a simple white neck scarf and saddlebags, suffering past and recent damage. Weirdest of all, although he considered himself mistaken, Big Iron wore a picture of a mining pickaxe shattering rocks on her…flank. His eyes lingering examination swiftly ended after that- Finn Cullen wasn’t some no-good degenerate.

Big Iron, on her part, had the same idea- more or less. “You…sounded younger than I imagined.” Taken aback by her droning conclusion, Finn stifled a snort, snapping the gun-metal gray mare out of her stunned trance. “I- ah, my apologies. I-I say stupid things sometimes.” She grinned awkwardly.

“You’re alright, I know how it is,” Finn dismissively waved, “Honestly, I’d imagined you’d be more frantic than this. My partner, James Adrian, was.” He chuckled, pointing a thumb behind him, James and his mount standing just out of sight.

The massive mare matched his joking comment with a passive giggle. “Ah, don’t get me lying- I’m freaking out. This whole debacle just has me drained.”

Big Iron’s shoulders slumped, bags lining her glistening reds exaggerating her drowsiness. Momentarily looking past her, Finn vaguely discerned ten hunched, tightly bundled ponies cowering in the Town Hall’s darkest shadows, inaudible whispers and mumbling overcoming them, seeing Finn’s face. Outnumbered? Hell, nobody there came close to looking battle-ready. “Not to be patronizing, Ma’am, but you shouldn’t have opened the door. What if it wasn’t a kind gentleman such as myself?” He said.

The massive mare’s ears perked, “You showed me your badge? It looked like our town’s badges, so you must be cowcolts, right?” She answered, tilting her head in confusion. “And…you didn’t immediately stab me or blow my face off. Agh, I don’t know. My head’s stuck in the mud, sir.” Shaking her head, tired exasperation slurring her words.

“Well, I ain’t sure about cowcolt, but I’m a cowboy, or lawman, or whichever you wanna call me, Mrs.” Finn received a pleasant huff, “Okay, then let's move on. I’ll help you with your friends back there and-.”

“Mr. Cullen, we got company!”

Snatching his attention, Finn swiftly turned around and saw James’s frantic warning foreshadowed the arrival of two dozen or more furious, pitch-fork and lasso-wielding ponies dressed in cowpoke attire. His partner’s steed whined with confusion and panic, rearing on its hind legs as three ponies surrounded it, murmuring sweet nothings and glaring at James.

As for Finn’s mount?

“Claws or paws or…whatever they are in the air, now! Let these poor ponies go!”

Lost, washed adrift within their sea of large-brimmed hats and twirling ropes, lacking its riding gear, scattered across the ground. Some pony amidst their ranks spat, “Monsters! Purading ponies in provocative rags like uncivilized whorses!” They shouted in abject repugnance.

Big Iron and Finn exchanged looks, the latter grimacing.

Stars decorated the cloudless midnight sky hours later, peaceful rolling winds howling outside Finn and James' barred cell window, aged cider and salt poisoning the air. Beyond their relatively non-human-sized, six-by-seven, iron bar cells, the jail house’s somewhat bland interior radiated a chilling sense of stillness, devoid of any living being other than Finn, James, and their stoic friend across the wooden sea.

Funny, whoever thought of this arrangement must’ve been playing a joke. Silver fur, and brown hair, but missing his ratty garments, revealing elegant patterns snaking and slithering throughout his body, tribal marks. Hazelnut eyes endured an ongoing staring contest with the floor; Comet’s, as he learned from the yellow stallion who dropped him off an hour or two prior, bandaged visage nestled deep between his legs. Finn heard all but silence coming from Appleoosa’s terrorists since his arrival and after a quick snooze, his mind waged war upon itself. Righteous fury was an instant runner-up in that regard. This bastard caused numerous deaths, unrest, vandalized several properties, and showed zero remorse underneath his unflinching features.

A death sentence befitted his crimes, but Finn’s uncivilized and unholy self yearned for something crueler, to make this sinner pay and cry for mercy.

And, expectedly, his cooled, level mind contested with his primal feelings.

In reality, Finn isn’t one for beating kids to death.

Even if visible age varied from subtle to comically exaggerated between these ponies, he could tell Comet was no older than sixteen, maybe seventeen. “At his age, I’d be helping drive cattle like my Grandpa did and earning jack or fishing.”

Finn reminisced somberly, splayed out along his cell’s fold-out bench, the ceiling peering back. “I didn’t overhear much, but that rambling Braeburn fellow seemed close to the little shit, so they know each other. So, is Comet from here? Why’d he attack his home?” Appleoosa, from his first impressions (appearance-wise), felt inviting and cozy, not the kind of city slums or desolate boonies that produce sociopathic killers. Insistent thoughts kept his mind wide awake, eliminating any chance for sleep, not that James’s periodic snores helped, the younger lawman sat slumped on the back wall.

Minutes, hours? Time has no meaning when you’re caged and alone- what’s worth brooding about? Still, Finn counted each ticking second an unseen clock made, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, then mentally traced every faded stain along the cell floor and walls. When he eventually ran out, his hand mindlessly went for his side piece, only grabbing empty air, his and James’s supplies and weapons stored somewhere within the jail house’s guts. Fiddling with his belt buckle latch, humming half-remembered tunes, and snapping his fingers, Finn struggled greatly sitting still, let alone sleeping. And every time his activities switch, his eyes land on Comet’s unmoving form, unchanged or altered all this time. Who was he kidding here? If not now, he’ll wish James had knocked him out for a minute of rest later.

“So, why’d ya do it?”

The given question wasn’t spoken out of hate, confusion, or plain curiosity- just a mild indifference. Comet didn’t budge, but his left ear flicked in Finn’s direction. “You’re from this little ol’ place, right? I’d take it- attackin’ -your hometown isn’t some early manhood antic’s?” Breaking their drawn-out silence by half-heartedly chuckling, Finn sat, throwing legs over the ‘bed’s’ edge.

Comet’s shoulder shook with a snort, “What do you care, thing?” He spat, “Shut the hay up and sleep. I don’t have to answer shit.”

“Never said you have to. But it'd be nice.”

“Then why can I still hear you blabbering on?” Finally craning his neck, Comet shot Finn an annoyed glare, his eyes red and puffy. “I’ve been through enough shit today. My brother and sister are dead thanks to your freaky flank, I’m stuck here, and my lord’s…” Mentioning this lord person, Comet fell silent, regret filling his visage. “Yeah, I’m from here. Happy?”

Maintaining his reserved mask, Finn stood and walked to his cell’s bars, taking hold of their icy-cool surface. “See? That wasn’t hard. But you haven’t answered my second question. The hell you thinkin’, causing this mess? You might as well tell me, the way things’re heading.” He reasoned.

“Yeah, it’s also the reason I ain’t telling you anything. You’re a prisoner like me, thing; just because you got a fancy deputy’s get-up doesn’t mean I’ll play nice.” Showing the older lawman his back, Shimmering Comet laid down, hugging himself. “I’ve already ruined my life, and nopony’s taking away whatever dignity I have left.”

Uninterrupted seconds ticked by, James’s soft snores filling the void of silence. Gritting his teeth, a sudden bang caused the prone Comet to flick and roll around, seeing Finn and his fist smashed against the bars. “You little fucker! You have the audacity to make this about you?! Your 'brothers and sisters' killed those folk out there! Some families won’t be seeing their fathers, mothers, sons, or daughters because of you, their lives are destroyed, gone! And the goddamn gall you have to say ‘Oh, woes me’ makes me sick! If these bars weren’t here, I’d kick your ass until it’s black and blue!” Snarling, Finn pulled the bars, producing a loud rattle that’d startled Comet. “A joke. You are a sad, pathetic, joke with no punchline in sight, boy. You, and your operation. I’d feel pity if you weren’t so disgusting.” Adopting a similar, angered expression, Shimmer Comet left his bed and stomped his hoof.

“W-Watch your mouth, mister! Don’t go talking when you can’t understand what I went through!” Comet shouted, stomping again, “It isn’t my fault they died. Th-They probably got caught in the chaos! Besides, they might have deserved it!” His righteous fury began kicking and chanting again, tightening Finn’s hold on the bars until his knuckles turned white.

He snorted loudly, “You filthy animal. Why I outta…” Finn canceled his threat, releasing his choke hold and stepping back. “Again, why? Why in God’s name would you do this, boy? Don’t you have a family? Friends? Is anybody here you somewhat liked? What if they were hurt, huh?” Incredulous stating his bewilderment, Finn watches his cell neighbor’s short-fused anger diminish into smoldering bitterness, hanging his head.

Comet stumbled backward, narrowly falling if not for his rump catching the bed’s edge. “I-I…A father, mother, and…my sister. I haven't seen them for a long time, two years now. Heck, they’re maybe long gone now. My mother, she’d caught something bad before I left- I never knew what it was. Sister, she’s a machine with no off button,” He huffed, smiling sadly, “Spent more time breaking rocks and breathing coal dust than talking with us, but she cared. And my Pa…used to work for Sheriff Silverhoof.” Hearing the spiteful venom coating the sheriff's name, Finn lifted a brow but kept quiet. “Before we and the buffalo made peace, he’d helped protect railroad workers and patrol the town’s border. Man, he’d work from sunrise to sunset, and come home covered in shit, sweat, and dust; Ma yelled at him to clean up, tracking muck indoors. But…after Appleoosa’s and the Buffalo’s peace treaty came along and took a good portion of our land and Equestria was attacked, our town’s funds were running dry with us repairing destroyed homes and farmland. Economic depression leads to bit-pinching, bit-pinching leads to budget cuts, and budget cuts mean laying off honest working stallions who were loyal from the beginning.”

“Your daddy got laid off?” Finn knew where Comet was heading. As a kid, he’d seen Civil War veterans thrown aside like street trash, missing limbs and their minds, drinking or begging on street corners. Not to mention the whole financial fiasco in New York back in 1907.

“Yeah,” Comet nodded, sniffling, “Afterward, the watering hole became his second home. He’d…never get violent or anything, but it didn’t hurt any less, seeing his sorry state. We tried helping, but then Mom got sick, and my sister worked even harder than before. And there I was, sitting on my flank doing not a darn thing like a scared foal. Nopony knew our names- Dad’s name wasn’t even known despite his good deeds. They didn’t care, watching my father drink himself into an early grave, my sister working herself down to the bone, or my mother being bedridden! I couldn’t get a job to pay for medicine, and I knew very little ponies. I thought everything for us was over…until…”

“Until what?” Crossing his arms, Finn urged his cell neighbor to continue, which the stallion chuckled. “Until you left? Is it related to this lord feller you’ve mentioned?” Comet nodded, grinning.

The stallion’s head lifted once more, “I don’t know how it happened- it just did. I came across one of his members and they were the one pony who saw my plight and offered a solution.” He hissed, punching his knee. “If I joined the lord’s unifying crusade, I’ll be paid, and then my family could live better. My mother would be healthy again, my sister wouldn’t have to work anymore, and my Father wouldn't need to worry!”

Finn scoffed, shaking his head disappointingly. “So you abandoned them without saying a word?” He said.

“I didn’t abandon them!” Comet retorted loudly, “I told them I’d be leaving and that’s it!”

“Doesn’t make it less painful, does it?” The stallion recoiled as if shot, Finn directing his scolding scowl. “Your mother was sick and your family’s falling apart and you decided to run from this problem because of money? I give a damn if you think it’d benefit this entire town and the next over, money isn’t worth leaving your family, no matter how much.” The stallion stuttered for a reply, ultimately unresponding. Finn pursed his lips, painful memories threatening to arise as he took a calming breath.

May God strike him down if he ever thought about doing such an abhorrent thing. ‘Although, for that bastard, I’d slit his throat and cut off his dick before doing so.’ Recalling the scarred devil's face only fanned his enraged flames, Comet’s ragged groan thankfully distracting the older lawman.

Pressing both hooves over his eyes, Comet sighed, leaning back. “Dear Celestia, I-I just wanted t-to help!” He muttered. “Screw him, screw his idiotic cause. I wanna see my family again.”

“Pray to whatever god you worship, boy.” Returning to his bed, Finn reclined, placing his hand behind his head. “You’re right, I don’t have any authority here, but your fellow ponies do, and I’m betting they’re not as…forgiving as I am.” Sighing, he angled his gaze, seeing James fast asleep, regardless of the prior screaming match. “Quit your sobbing and sleep, I’m exhausted.” Comet’s sniffling marked his end, accentuated by squeaking chains and a shifting body.

Closing his eyes, Finn began drifting off, smelling the outside burning wood and blood.