It was two o'clock on a stiflingly warm June afternoon in the town of Elmwood, and for a certain pony named Bronze Ribbon, it was also the day in which she waited two hours longer than she should have had to for the local mailmare to deliver her bills.
Bronze Ribbon, considered by many to be somewhat unattractive, was a short, stubby mare with narrow brown eyes that reminded many of her neighbors of particularly vile mud, and a matted, unwashed coat of light bronze coloration.
Contrasting her dreary body was an almost surreal shining silver necklace that seemed as if it was disconnected from the myriad troubles of its owner. A tiny sapphire hung from the necklace, reflecting the light from the sun into Bronze's eyes, forcing her to squint in order to avoid being blinded by the brilliant shine.
Her mane, or rather, what little of it remained after a recent explosive "prank" gone wrong, was beige colored, where it wasn't the color of charcoal. Her cutie marks were a pair of architectural manuals that indicated her now-unused special talent.
The mare paced irritably in front of her primitive camping tent, where she had been sleeping for the last two weeks ever since her actual house had been leveled by the aforementioned "prank" gone wrong, an annoyed scowl on her scarred face.
"Where is that mare?" Bronze yelled, to nopony in particular. She looked around, as if the mailmare was going to pop out of the bush at any moment and yell "April Fools!".
Bronze sighed after a moment and lay down on the uncomfortable bed of gravel that lay outside her tent. She looked down sadly at the rocks.
"Well, at least it can't get any worse." Bronze muttered. Immediately, her eyes widened as she realized the gravity of what she had said. Her head shot up and her eyes darted around furiously, waiting for something terrible to happen that would make her situation even worse somehow.
Nothing happened.
A bitter smile appeared on her parched lips and faded less than a second after.
"I guess it really can't get any worse for me." she muttered under her breath as her eyes began to close, ever so slowly.
Bronze Ribbon awoke to a soft nudge on her side. Slowly, her eyes opened and she looked up drearily. The figure of a mare stood above her, silhouetted by the lack of any light. "Who.. ugh.." Bronze mumbled as pain shot up her back.
"Mrs. Ribbon, is it?" the mare asked in a bored sounding Trottingham accent, not bothering to look Bronze in the eyes.
"I'm just Ms. Ribbon now. My partner is, um, well, not around anymore." Bronze said quietly.
"Ah. Ms. Ribbon, then. I have a package for you that I need you to sign." the mare replied apathetically.
"Package?" Bronze repeated. "I didn't order any packages."
"Not my problem. Sign the package." the mare ordered, handing Bronze a small writing quill and paper.
The down-on-her-luck mare looked at the paper for a moment, then shakily wrote down her name in large, clumsy letters.
"Very good. Have a nice day, Ms. Ribbon." the mare said in a tone that made it quite clear how little she felt for the pitiful pony groaning on the ground in front of her, before depositing the box in front of the homeless mare and plodding away into the cool summer night.
Bronze looked at the small cardboard box that lay in front of her. On the side, a small post-it note lay with the words, "To Bronze Ribbon of Elmwood" written in cursive upon it.
Curious at who would have possibly sent her a package, Bronze bit down on the cardboard and slowly began ripping off a sizable chunk of the side with her rotted teeth.
When she had bitten enough of the box away, she carefully picked up the content and brought it up to her eye.
It was a small chest, no bigger than her head, made of a ceramic material that reflected Bronze's perplexed face. On the top, etched in bronze, was a small symbol of a planet being orbited by an array of differently-shaped gemstones. Below the symbol read the words, "Ministry of Rehabilitation."
Slowly, Bronze nudged open the chest's lid with her nose. Inside, there lay a picture of a smiling unicorn stallion garbed in a white suit and tie, laying within a simple wooden frame. Puzzled, the mare picked up the picture.
"Why would somepony have sent me this?" she wondered.
As she spoke, a burst of energy emanated from the picture, knocking the mare backwards several feet onto her head. Bronze let out a yelp of surprise and rubbed her injured scalp.
"Hello? Ms. Ribbon, are you there?" a voice called, seeming to echo as if the speaker was yelling through a megaphone.
"Huh? Yeah, I'm here." Bronze groaned a little as she steadied herself, briefly glancing at her neck to make sure the necklace had not been blown away by the burst. "Wait, who are you?" she said as she looked around for the source of the voice.
"Where are you?" she added.
"Down here." the voice replied. Bronze looked down. The picture lay at her hooves, with the same image of the stallion smiling on its cover. Except now, the stallion was breathing and blinking as if he was alive, and not just a still image.
"You're a picture? But how can you talk?" Bronze asked incredulously.
"I'm not actually a picture, I'm merely communicating with you through magic. Things have been really busy here in Canterlot, and I'm afraid I wasn't able to come and meet you face-to-face." the image replied.
"You're from Canterlot? What could a stallion from the big city possibly want with a lackluster mare like myself?" Bronze asked, her tone bitter as she pawed the gravel in front of her restlessly.
"Well, Ms. Ribbon, I have contacted you because you qualify for the Celestia-Fancypants Disenfranchised Rehabilitation Act." the stallion replied.
Bronze stared at him, not understanding.
"Ah, right. I'll have to tone this down for a simpleton such as yourself." the stallion replied, irritation creeping into his voice.
"The powers that be in Canterlot have recently mandated that all ponies in Equestria below a certain level of income and living standards qualify to be rehabilitated, as in being educated and fed until they can return to society as successful and productive workers." the stallion said these words slowly and deliberately, as if he was talking to a small filly as opposed to the adult mare who stared at him indignantly, her cheeks red with anger at the stallion's remarks.
"Do you understand now, or do I have to dumb it down even further?" the stallion asked scathingly.
Bronze Ribbon let out a guttural growl and spat on the picture. "I understand, you snobbish little prick. Now leave me alone, I don't want any part of your stupid rehabilitation act! I'm fine on my own!"
"Oh, are you now? You lost your house, your job.. Oh, and that's right, that useless waste of space you called a partner!" the stallion smiled smugly as Bronze's cheeks reddened in ever-increasing rage.
Bronze roared in fury and stomped with all of her primordial might on the picture, shattering the wood frame into a mess of splinters. The picture fell to the ground, the smiling stallion once again inert. Her rage not yet sated, Bronze began to tear apart the image with her teeth until it lay in shreds at her hooves.
As she looked down at the picture shreds, she felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. That stallion had known about what had happened to her partner, and he had used it to attack her personally.
Bronze's legs wobbled and she sank to the ground, quietly sniffling in the cool night air.
"Why is the world so determined to hurt me?" she whimpered mournfully, not for the first time, as she stared up at the pitiless night sky.
"Maybe it's because you're so easy to hurt." a voice spoke from behind her.
Before Bronze had any chance to act, she felt a sharp burst of pain emanate from the back of her head, and darkness prevailed.
The Crime Lord's Ultimatum
"Wake up." a raspy voice called into Bronze Ribbon's ear.
Bronze opened her eyes slowly, moaning. "..Huh?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Wake up." the voice repeated.
"I'm so tired.." Bronze muttered, almost inaudibly.
"Wake up!" the voice yelled. Immediately afterward, Bronze felt a sharp jolt of pain travel from her side throughout the rest of her body.
The mare yelped in surprise and looked up at her assailant with dazed eyes.
"Good, you're awake." he said. As Bronze's eyes adjusted more, the form of a gryphon slowly came into focus, a ghastly-looking creature of dark brown feathers streaked with lines of dark crimson, with stiflingly dark eyes that seemed as if they held no light whatsoever in their depths.
As Bronze awoke further, she realized that she was no longer anywhere near her tent. Instead, she was in a small enclosed room that was lit with two painfully bright florescent ceiling lights.
Bronze herself, she noticed, was strapped uncomfortably to what appeared to be a mockery of an ancient Trrotingham torture rack.
"Who are you?" Bronze asked, her voice quaking involuntarily with fear.
"Oh, Bronzie, you don't remember me? Your old friend from Manehattan? I remember you.." the gryphon replied, mocking hurt present in his voice.
Bronze's eyes widened in recognition. "..Spiro?" the one-word question came out in a rasped whisper.
The gryphon clacked his beak in an approximation of a wicked grin. "Ah, so you do remember me! Good. That will make this have a little more context."
The emphasis Spiro placed on the last word made Bronze shiver. "You know, it's common sense really, Bronzie. Never make a deal with someone you can't pay back." The gryphon came ever so closer to the frightened mare as he spoke.
"I gave you everything I had, Spiro." Bronze replied, trying and failing to add an edge of defiance to her voice.
"Not everything." Spiro rasped, stroking Bronze's forehead with a scarred talon.
"..What do you mean?" Bronze asked, her voice quiet.
"Well, you have your tent, a little bit of food, and a very nice sapphire necklace, which my men confiscated. Frankly, I'm surprised you kept the necklace, considering you're in such dire straits, but-" Spiro found himself interrupted by a wad of spit from a now-furious Bronze Ribbon hitting him in the left eye.
"You bastard! That was a gift from my partner!" Bronze bellowed in rage, struggling in vain against the restraints.
Spiro, to Bronze's surprise, laughed, a soft, hearty chuckle that seemed more in place coming from a kindly old grandfather than a black market extortionist.
"You are a such a predictable little mare, Bronzie." he said, rubbing his left eye with the side of his talon.
"Give me the necklace, Spiro. Now!" Bronze demanded, her face contorted with hate.
"Hmm.." Spiro stroked his chin, as if considering her demands. "No can do." he said several seconds later with a shrug of his shoulders. "That necklace would sell for twenty thousand bits back in Manehattan, more money than you've seen in your entire life, I imagine."
"I don't care how much you can fence it for! Give it to me or it will be the last thing you ever do!" Bronze roared.
"Now, now, Bronzie, I think you need a reminder on who is calling the shots here." Spiro replied calmly as he raised his left talon for a swipe.
Bronze's defiance left her like the water out of a holed dam as she realized what was about to happen.
"No.." she found herself pleading, to her own surprise. "Don't, please..."
Spiro chuckled. "You probably should have considered the consequences before you let your mouth get the better of you. I think it might be time to get rid of your mouth, don't you think?"
"Please, no. I'll do anything.. anything you say!" Bronze whinnied, tears forming in her eyes. Her bladder, against her mind's wishes, emptied its meager contents onto the torture rack.
"Anything I say, hmm?" Spiro repeated, sounding interested.
"Yes, anything." Bronze whimpered pathetically.
"Alright, Bronzie, I'll tell you what." Spiro replied. "If you work for me for a while, I'll forget the whole incident in Manehattan ever happened. We'll be squared, and you can go back to wallowing in self-pity."
"Alright, I'll do it." Bronze said with a resigned sigh.
"Hallelujah! One of my buddies will be sending you a package in the mail shortly with an assignment. Oh, and don't bother with trying to rat me out to the police. You'll just land yourself in a whole new bucket of trouble." Spiro said, much too jovially for the occasion.
Spiro smiled down at the mare. "Have a good one. Ta leme, Bronzie."
As the gryphon uttered the foreign goodbye, Bronze Ribbon began to feel light-headed.
"Ugh.." she groaned. "What's... happening.."
The mare's limbs slackened with an exhausted sigh, and, just as it had earlier, darkness prevailed over her.
Bronze Ribbon awoke to a sharp pain lancing through her forehead.
"Ow.." she mumbled, opening her eyes to take in the familiar sights around her, the gravely roads and dead grass that surrounded her makeshift residence.
As she contended with the horrific headache she was now experiencing, the mare struggled to remember what had happened the previous night.
"Something about limes and.." her eyes widened as she remembered. "Oh no, Spiro!" The gryphon crime boss had terrorized her in the past, and now had manipulated her into helping him commit crimes against innocent ponies.
Bronze couldn't help but whimper a little at the memory of her deal with Spiro.
"Now I have to hurt ponies just to save myself. Nopony will ever be able to forgive me now." she thought dejectedly as she stared up at the sickeningly bright noon sky, her mud-colored eyes lethargic with depression.
"Delivery for Mrs. Bronze Ribbon." the accented voice of the mailmare shook Bronze out of her trance.
She looked up at the mailmare. "Yeah, that's me." she said softly.
"I got a letter for you from a Mister Edgecliff." The mailmare dropped a small envelope in front of the homeless mare's face.
"Mister Edgecliff?" Bronze repeated. "What a mystery, that."
The mailmare shook her head at the pun and bent down to eye level with Bronze.
"I know what happened between you and Spiro last night, and I want to help you." the mare said, her voice becoming a whisper.
"You want to.. help me?" Bronze asked, confused. "Nopony has ever wanted to help me before, except.." The mare found herself interrupted by the mailmare's hoof gently placing itself on her mouth.
"Let's just say I've been in your position before, Bronze, and I know how Spiro operates. No matter what you do, no matter how much you help him, he will never let you go." The mailmare said, her voice deadly serious.
"But.. he said he would let me go if I helped him enough.." Bronze replied, her eyes broadcasting her befuddlement.
"That's the thing." The mare spoke, her eyes and voice filled with conviction. "As long as you have the capability to help him in any way, you have not helped him enough. He will work you to the brink of death and beyond, Bronze. With him you have no chance of ever becoming free. I can help you, Bronze. Let me."
Bronze looked down at the ground, contemplating her options. "I could refuse her offer and help Spiro, but he's a criminal and a liar. At least with this mailmare, I have a chance to not end up in prison for the rest of my life." she thought.
Bronze Ribbon looked back up at the mare. "I accept your offer, mailmare." she said.
A small smile appeared on the mare's face for a moment before disappearing. "You can call me Swift Step from now on, Bronze."
"Alright. That letter from "Mr. E" will likely have Spiro's first assignment for you detailed in it. We'll need to read it and find out what he wants you to do first before we can stop him." Swift Step said, her voice one accustomed to taking charge.
"We have to stop him?" Bronze asked, her eyes filled with fright. "Can't you just help me run away to Fillydelphia or some other city far away?"
Swift shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not. Spiro will pursue you to the ends of the Earth if he feels you have betrayed him. In order to ensure your safety for good, we need to take him out of the game. Permanently."
"We have to kill him?" Bronze shivered as she said the words. "Swift, I can't.. I'm no murderer."
Swift grabbed Bronze gently by the shoulders and pulled the whimpering mare up to her face, staring into Bronze's mud-colored eyes with her own.
"Bronze, look at me. Do I look like a murderer?" the mare asked, her voice soft.
Bronze took in Swift Step for the first time.
The mare was tall, even taller than some stallions, with a dirty blackish-green coat that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks, which partially obscured the pair of winged tennis shoes that were her cutie marks, and her mud-brown mane was ragged, dirty, and torn.
Her eyes, a pair of brilliant citrus-colored orbs, were filled with years' worth of fatigue and weariness, but also held something else in their depths that Bronze couldn't put her hoof on.
"Uh..." Bronze stuttered, trying and failing to think of something positive to say.
Swift let out a quiet sigh and looked away. "I understand, you don't have to lie to me." Her voice held within in a twinge of pain.
"No, you're absolutely fine. It's just I'm.." Bronze wracked her brain for something, anything, to say to the mare. Nothing came to mind.
"It's okay, Bronze. Let's just go. Spiro isn't going to commit suicide and free us of our mission anytime soon." Swift looked pained, her face screwed up like she was trying to pass a kidney stone.
"Oh.. alright." Bronze Ribbon opened the envelope with her teeth and looked down at the contents, a small sheet of paper.
"It reads, 'Give Byron a stern talking to for me. -Mr. E.'. Swift, do you know who this Byron is?" Bronze asked, her curious eyes looking in Swift's direction, secretly eager to try and raise the mare's spirits.
"No idea. But if Spiro's having you deal with him, he's probably somewhere in Elmwood. We should probably look around town." Swift's voice began to sound more like it had originally, the voice of one accustomed to being the leader.
"Alright. Where should we begin?" Bronze inquired.
"We should probably start with the local tavern. If Byron is in trouble with Spiro, he's probably not very smart, so he'll probably be there." Swift replied.
Bronze nodded.
"Let's go. Spiro's time in this world is quickly coming to an end."
The duo of Bronze Ribbon and Swift Step found themselves outside of the Crimson Chimaera Bar and Grill, the first and only bar in Elmwood, which was touted by its owner, Dagger Neck, as being the only bar in town because of great service and his own management skills.
It wasn't common knowledge, however, that Dagger Neck served as an informant for several criminal organizations, among them the gang of Spiro himself, which was considered the prime reason that any and all competition in the town either disappeared or reconsidered the idea of setting up a tavern.
Bronze looked at her new-found friend, unease showing in her eyes. "I'm not sure about going in there alone. It's kinda.. creepy." her voice shook a little with fear.
Swift placed a comforting hoof on Bronze's shoulder. "Don't worry. If anything goes wrong, I'll be right outside. Nopony will hurt you, I promise." Her calming voice eased Bronze's nervousness, if only a little.
Bronze nodded slowly and began her trot towards the front door of the bar, opening it with a nudge.
The interior of the Crimson Chimaera, unlike its unimpressive exterior of brown brick, was a stunning array of every shade of dark and gloomy color known to ponykind, filled to the brim with shady booths and seats and lit only by a handful of dim lights that barely made the silhouettes of the patrons visible in the darkness.
Bronze Ribbon gulped as she made her way to the counter, where a unicorn stallion stood, washing beer glasses with a magically levitated washrag.
The stallion didn't look up as the frightened mare approached. "Two bits for a glass." His voice was weary and uninterested, as if he had repeated the line thousands upon thousands of times.
"Uh.. do you know a stallion named Byron?" Bronze asked, nervousness apparent in her shaky speech.
"No. Two bits for a glass." the stallion repeated.
"Spiro sent me to find him." Bronze said, hoping that the crime lord's name would loosen the bartender's tongue.
"Don't care. Two bits for a glass." the stallion repeated again.
"Look, I really need to find Byron. Can you please point me to somepony who can help me?" Bronze asked.
"No. Two bits for a glass." The stallion repeated once again.
Bronze let out an exasperated sigh and walked away from the counter.
"How in the hell am I going to find Byron in this bar if I don't even know what he looks like?" Bronze wondered aloud.
As she wandered aimlessly around the bar, she found herself rudely knocked to the ground.
"Ugh!" Bronze grunted as her head painfully and loudly impacted the floor.
"Shorry!" a stallion yelled as he drunkenly stumbled past.
Bronze lay on the ground, moaning softly, her vision blurred from the impact.
"Are you okay?" The voice came from a gryphon, who stood over Bronze's limp form, his eyes filled with concern.
"I hurt all over.." Bronze's voice was slow and slurred with pain.
"Let me take you out back." As the gryphon spoke, he hoisted the dazed mare onto his back and walked, slowly and carefully, out the back door of the Chimaera.
The gryphon set down Bronze on a makeshift pillow made of old newspapers. "There, that should be better than a hard wooden floor." he said, rubbing his talons together.
Bronze looked up at him, her eyes half-closed. "Do I know you.." she mumbled.
The gryphon smiled down at her. "Just rest. You should be fine after a few hours."
Bronze raised her hoof weakly in protest. "But.. I have to find Byron." she slurred.
"Well, you've found him." Byron said, flaring his wings.
Bronze attempted to reply, but all that came out was a soft groan as she fell into a fitful sleep on Byron's makeshift bed.
Situated above the vibrant splendor of Canterlot City lay a grandiose mansion, with palatial beauty that put most every other building in Equestria to shame.
Taking heavy influence from the gothic styles of earlier ages and built into the mountain for extra space, the estate was considered one of Canterlot's most greatest and most beautiful buildings by many, including a fair percentage of the nobility.
The interior was no slouch, either, and reportedly Celestia herself wished to hire the architect who designed the mansion's immensely dazzling collection of ornaments and furniture.
Sitting behind a polished maple desk, on a silver-lined office chair crafted specifically for his needs, a unicorn stallion stared at the scowling gryphon opposite him with a thoroughly unamused expression of his own.
The stallion, a refined specimen of noble blood, was of medium size with a sleek silvery-white coat, a flowing blonde mane, and sharp, piercing blue eyes. The cutie marks on his flank were covered, along with most of his back, by a dark violet robe that evoked the ancient royal dynasties of centuries past.
The enormous stained glass window behind him, depicting the gargantuan ice-breathing figure of a windigo, normally had an enormous psychological impact on those who sat where the gryphon was now, but seemed to have no effect on the chimaera, much to the stallion's private disdain.
"Edgecliff." The gryphon's utterance of the stallion's name was full of loathing and bile.
"Spiro." The stallion's utterance of the gryphon's name in kind was equally loaded with distaste.
"I'm sure you remember our little arrangement, Spiro." Edgecliff began, not taking his eyes off of the crime lord.
"Of course, Dauphin. How could I forget?" Spiro replied, placing a snide emphasis on the stallion's title.
"Considering how much money I was paying you, I have no idea. Somehow, though, you managed." Edgecliff said, uncloaked disgust rising in his voice.
"I coerced your pawn into chasing after Byron. If he isn't dead, he will be soon. You have nothing to worry about." Spiro said, his unlit eyes boring into the blue orbs of the Dauphin.
"I have nothing to worry about, do I?" Edgecliff repeated, holding the gryphon's gaze. "What if after she kills him, she comes after me? After all, you used my name in your orders. And even if she doesn't think of that, what if she fails and gets captured? What if Byron gets my name out of this whole debacle and tells his mother? I'll be dead within a day."
"That's your problem, Dauphin, not mine." Spiro replied apathetically, sharpening his left talon on the chair's armrest.
"Oh is it? Remember, Spiro, I may not be the biggest fish in the sea, but I still have enough pull to see your little criminal empire burned to the ground." Edgecliff spoke, slamming his hoof down on the desk to emphasize his point. "If I drown, I'm going to ensure you go down with me."
Spiro looked over the Dauphin's shoulder at the window behind him, ignoring his employer's furious exclamation. "Dread Lord Malus, am I right?" he said, half statement and half question.
Edgecliff gave a genuine smile, distracted from his anger by Spiro's knowledge of the obscure historical figure. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I'm surprised you are familiar with ancient history, considering your.. occupation."
Spiro shrugged modestly. "I come from a family of scholars. It's hard not to pick up a few things. It never hurt a man, or pony in your case, to have a thorough education, either."
Edgecliff nodded in agreement. "Indeed." he said. "I'll tell you what, Spiro," he began, looking at his employee with an increasing amount of respect. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. As long as Celestia and her cadre of boot-licking sycophants don't get wind of my involvement in this scheme, I'll keep my hooves off. Do we have an agreement?" he finished, extending his hoof over the desk.
Spiro, after a moment, shook Edgecliff's hoof. "Yes, this arrangement is more than suitable. Byron will be taken care of, and you have my word that nobody will discover your plans." The firmness in his voice left no doubt in Edgecliff's mind that the gryphon was being sincere.
"And if they do?" Edgecliff asked, already knowing the answer.
"I will kill them myself." Spiro replied.
"Good. If I need to speak with you again, I will contact you. In the meantime, you can go back to Manehattan. A certain chief of police has been sacked from his position, as you requested. You won't have any more trouble with your shipments." Edgecliff said.
"Understood. Arrivederci, Dauphin." The crime lord uttered his goodbye, performing a mock salute before standing up and walking out of the office, closing the large set of double doors behind him.
As soon as the gryphon left the room, Dauphin Edgecliff let out a soft sigh and looked at the ornately framed picture on his desk. A smiling, young, and happy daughter stared back at him, her beautiful auburn eyes vibrant and full of life and love.
"Celestia protect you, my child.." he whispered quietly, his voice barely loud enough to be heard even by his own ears, before laying back in his chair as the city of Canterlot awoke to the rising sun behind him.
"Stars know she isn't protecting me.."
Bronze Ribbon opened her eyes slowly and looked around. Byron lay snuggled up next to her, sleeping soundly.
Spiro's letter echoed in her head. "Give Byron a stern talking to for me."
Bronze looked at the sleeping griffon. His body was bright, healthy, and full of youth, unlike the scarred and sickly body of the other griffon Bronze had been acquainted with, Spiro.
"He looks so innocent, so carefree. What he did to incur Spiro's wrath?" she wondered.
Byron's eyes opened slowly with a contented sigh and looked up at her. "Oh, hey. I just thought since you looked kinda cold that I would use my wings to, you know, keep you warm. I hope you don't mind." he said kindly.
"It's okay. I appreciate it." Bronze said, a small smile on her face.
"So, I must ask," Byron said, gazing at Bronze with the golden eyes characteristic to most of his species. "What is a mare like you doing in a joint like this? No offense, this place just doesn't seem like it's for you, Ms..?"
"Bronze Ribbon. Like I said earlier, I'm looking for Byron.. you, I guess." Bronze replied, avoiding the gryphon's eyes.
"Well, here I am, Ms. Ribbon. What can I do for you?" Byron asked.
"Uh.." Bronze mumbled, not wishing to disclose the reason for seeking him out.
"I assume you're here because you want me to put in a good word for you with Mom, like all the others." Byron said, boredom present in his voice.
"No, no, nothing like that. I just.. wanted to.. uh.." Bronze stuttered, nervousness preventing her from forming a comprehensible response.
Byron smiled gently at her. "I'm just teasing you, Ms. Ribbon. It's perfectly fine." he said cordially, the boredom evaporating from his tone.
"Oh." Bronze said, relieved. "You can call me Bronze by the way." she added. "It's not like we're nobles or anything."
Byron looked away from the mare's mud-colored eyes. "Yeah, nothing like that." he said distantly, looking off towards the horizon.
"Huh?" Bronze mumbled, questioning.
"Nothing." Byron said, staring off towards the far-off Canterlot, his back to the curious gaze of Bronze Ribbon.
"Nothing at all."