There Could Be Zebras About

“Tell you what Sarge, not many sunrises better than this. Not sure I’ve seen anything more beautiful.”

“Not even a special somepony?”

“That’s… well… different, just look at the colours I mean. It really brings out the red in the rocks.”

“Never took you for an artist, Private.”

“I just like a good landscape, Sarge.”

“So do I when I’ve not been awake all night.”

“A less charitable pony might think ya gone soft Sarge.”

“You’re one to talk, ogling the pretty colours. Maybe I ought to requisition some watercolours from the Captain.”

“Hey, it’s still a good view alright? Makes climbing all the way up here for watch in the dark like a blind nag worth it.”

“Fair enough, it’s not half bad.“

“Hey Sarge, over here!”

“What?”

“There's a rock-fall, on that rubble-y face ‘bout 10 o’clock from us.”

“Wait, where?”

“Where I'm pointing, Sarge. See the loose rock slope?”

“Which- yeah yeah I see it.”

“Hope they checked these cliffs for ‘em, would be a mighty painful way to wake up in-”

“Take the binocs,”

“What, does it-”

“You see them? Abseiling down the face?”

“Tarterus Sarge, I-”

“You see them?!”

“Zebras, plain as day, Sarge. A dozen at least.”

“Don't move a bucking muscle Private, give me that map and my canteen. I'm alerting the Captain.”