Fallout Equestria: Razor's Edge

Chapters

Prologue: Cake's Dilemma
Chapter 1: Waking Up
Chapter 2: Threats and Demands
Chapter 3: Feathers

Prologue: Cake's Dilemma

FALLOUT: EQUESTRIA
RAZOR'S EDGE
by Shukin

Prologue: Cake's Dilemma

Somepony older than many of us said that "life is like a cake box." I never understood that saying. How could a cake make any difference, and why would life be like one? Earlier, I thought it could've been talking about food, as a mean of survival. You know, like "life is food." It was too simple for what everypony was and acted like, so I discarded it with time. Maybe it was about the box itself, a way to protect something, "life is security." If it was, I wouldn't need weapons, or to learn how to kill, or to cope with the deaths of many people that I cared, ponies and griffin alike. Just now, while my throat closes and I choke, gasping for any air, that I could finally understand what that meant. It's not about the cake, nor about the box. It's not about security, or food, or survival. I clenched my claws around the heavy metal bar that locked my left wing to the ground and vainly forced it, without results.

My eyes struggled to stay open in the salty and irradiated water, a burning sensation that made me writhe and fight against everything that held me back. I could feel tears, even though they were lost immediately to the sea, never once touching my beak. Life is about the experience. You know it's a cake box. You know that there's a cake inside. I felt water filling my lungs, and my body started felling weak. Again, I tried to shake my wing free, to no avail.

What's important is opening the box. It's watching the little mystery of "what flavor would the cake be" unravel in front of your own eyes. It's having a goal, and reaching it, receiving your deserved prize for your efforts.

You know that a box is a box. You know that a cake is a cake. Still, you'll never know the flavor if you never open the box.

I opened the box.

I could hear an explosion, its light barely shining through the layer of water that separated me from my liberty, and from my old life. A rain of shrapnel poured around me, cutting through the dark waters that blocked my breath. I could feel time slowing down around me, and a piercing pain from my neck to my toes, locking me in agonizing suffocation while sharp pain kept me alive through my dislocated wing. Instinctively, I reached for my hindlegs. Was that really my only choice? I could feel the now-soaked parchment wrapping the blade's base, forming a makeshift handhold. I didn't have time to think, but my mind couldn't stop its screams, flooding my head with warnings and thoughts of excruciating pain.

The machete in my hands was my last hope for survival. I wanted to scream, to drown the pain in noise and adrenaline, but I couldn't. The sharp blade, made this morning, shone even in such dark place. I admired my craftsmanship, sharpened from a carriage's bumper, with a cut good enough to dismember a pony with one good attack.

My free wing shook as I, as fast as I could underwater and nearly unconscious, slowly brought the blade's tip to my shoulder. There were no tears left when I felt the cold metal against my wet feathers. I thought, once more, about screaming, and stopped myself before doing something so stupid. I don't have a lot of oxygen to begin with, and the little I do can't be lost into something so trivial, so... necessary.

It was now or never. Another explosion. Red painted the ocean. I couldn't keep my beak shut, and screamed. I screamed louder and louder, punching the sharpened metal against my shoulder, puncturing my flesh, ripping apart feathers and fur alike, scream after scream shaking and hacking my wing away. I felt every hit, every cut and movement of the blade inside my shoulder. I wanted to puke, giving water the opportunity it waited for, swallowing copious amounts of what should've been my liquid death.

I wouldn't die. I couldn't die.

I woke up, the fresh smell of baking bread breaking into my nostrils, and I salivate. I was hungry, starving. She notices me, I shiver and close my wings around myself, trying to shake the feeling of dread, death and pain that tormented me earlier.

"Look's like someone had a bad dream," her sweet voice calmed me, I just nodded back. Through the cracks, light poured inside the little cabin I was into, along with the sweet smell and the beautiful voice of a mare, probably a baker.

I woke up, still, I wasn't feeling well. "Wha's happen..." I couldn't speak properly, something mangled my voice and, as soon as I notice something's wrong, my ribs kick me in overdrive; I couldn't breathe. I cover my mouth barely before coughing, sharp bursts of pain locking me in my axis, and wetness in my talons alerts me. A quick look and I confirm that it's blood.

"Don't strain yourself, griffin, it's going to worsen your condition. You're in Razor's Edge, in the middle of nowhere crossing with nothing. I'll be your host. You can call me Sweet Buns, if you want, but I'd love if you called me by my name, Raspberry Cake."

Level: 1

S: 5 | P: 4 | E: 7 | C: 9 | I: 6 | A: 5 | L: 4

Tags: Barter, Melee Weapons, Repair

Skills:
Barter: 37 Energy Weapons: 12 Explosives: 12 Guns: 14 Lockpick: 12 Medicine: 16
Melee Weapons: 29 Repair: 31 Science: 16 Sneak: 14 Speech: 22 Survival: 18 Unarmed: 18

Perks:

Author's Note

New try at a FO:E side story. Let's see how far this one goes.

Chapter 1: Waking Up

FALLOUT: EQUESTRIA
RAZOR'S EDGE
by Shukin

Chapter 1: Waking Up

I finally examined my surroundings through the sudden bursts of pain that every little movement made me feel. Light fought against the shack's natural darkness through small circled windows, shining against cracked glass that once stood in its frame. Every wall was made of steel, some parts corroded in a brownish color, others already forming moss. I could feel that the whole place was actually humid in my breath, even though I couldn't see anything but dead grass in the distance through the windows, besides mountains at the horizon.

The bed, if you can call it that, that I was on was made of a steel block, melded firmly into the ground, as if it was made before everything happened, before "the end." Through the ceiling, pipes snaked from outside the room to one of the corners, the most distant from my actual position. That's where my caretaker was, and I could recognize the little oven she was in front of as the source for the sweet bread smell. One of the pipes dripped, filling the air with occasional sounds of water against water, as a bucket was put underneath it.

I tried to get up one more time before surrendering my body to my wounds, and just staying put. I tried to speak, but everything that got out of my beak was mangled, so I couldn't form any kind of question, even though I had so many to ask.

"Calm down, griffin, I know you can't speak. It's just a minor side-effect from the medicine Mittens gave you." I wanted to laugh, how could somepony be called Mittens and wanted to be taken seriously? I wanted, though: My ribcage protested as fast as it could against it. "So just stay put and wait, I'm making our lunch."

The first thing I wanted to ask was why she told me that I could call her Sweet Buns, if her name wasn't that. With a quick glance of her frame, I could guess. Somehow, in the middle of all this destruction and famine, she's actually overweight, her figure acquiring forms and curves that made her pretty and, might I say, even sexy. Her cotton candy mane was surely modeled from that pink ministry mare, though it was a softer shade of pink, or at least that's what I could remember from those posters from before the war. In her body, a set of utility barding made clearly from the same scrap metal that the whole place had in bulk, over a red jumpsuit that covered part of her light purple fur. Snuggly in the right places, I might add, as she was facing the wall away from me.

With a tink, the small egg timer on a cupboard besides her declared that ten minutes have passed. She looked at it over her shoulder and, with a whim of magic, she turned the oven's gas knob down, closing its flame's source. I didn't knew she was a unicorn, it was impossible to see her horn through the mane and over her body. Another quick pink flash and the bread, inside its pan, made its way out of the oven and over the metal table in the left corner. The table, at least, was made after the war, as it didn't have the same rust that everything else in the room had.

How much time had passed since I've saw a fresh loaf? Again, my mouth salivated, and my stomach agreed with the whole 'I'm hungry' thing. Raspberry Cake floated a spoon and some kind of metal triangle, approaching the door to the outside as calmly as ever. With three quick notes, she announces "Food is ready!" How many ponies would eat that? It looked like it was enough food for five ponies at max, and let's not forget that I'm not even a pony. Slowly, ponies appeared, some tall, some small. Two foals - twins, by the look of it - sprinted through the metal doorway directly into the bread, the only pony that guaranteed that everypony else would have the opportunity to eat by holding the two was Raspberry. A third appeared, taller than most - probably even taller than me! - with black rubbery boots that extended above his knees. This one had a cutie mark, a staff or wand of some sort.

I thought that would be it, that they were a family of some sort. Sure I was wrong, as three more ponies entered. These looked younger, but already had their cutie marks, the mare had a steel beam, both colts had bolts, one with them ordered in line and made of silver, the other with two bolts crossed and made of copper. Raspberry seemed happy that the shack was full of life, everypony expecting some of the bread for themselves. That wasn't enough at all, how could they survive like that? "Does anypony knows where's Stunner?" She brought a knife to the loaf, intending to cut if after the answer.

The construction trio didn't even pay attention, the foals shuddered and the big one, with a long black mane, said softly, "I presume he is not going to be present this afternoon, m'lady." His tone brought a lot of chivalry to the table, while something in the way he portrayed himself wasn't clicking me right, probably it was the sad excuse of an accent, too pompous to be natural.

"Eh, serves him right. Nopony told him to be such a rag." She finally cut the loaf, the delicious smell flooding the shack once again. From the bed, I couldn't see much more than a bunch of ponies munching into it like if their lifes depended on it and, actually, it did. Raspberry had little trouble to walk through the caos, accustomed with these reunions.

"Here, for the wounded." I thanked her with a nod, and picked up the fluffy slice of fresh loaf with my talons. So warm, and so comforting. I took a small nibble, savoring the sweet taste of peach.

"How are thou holding up, sir?" The tall pony approached, smiling gently. I didn't buy it.

"He's still mangling words, Mittens. It's silly to ask him anything for now." she said, putting the knife used to cut the bread aside.

"Do not worry, sir, it is just a small side-effect of the healing brew. You are quite energetic for somepon- sorry, someone that just got shot." I couldn't care less what pronoun he used, so I just shrugged. Another nibble, I needed to learn that recipe! I think I accidentally showed my satisfaction with the food in an unaware smile, as Raspberry Cake gave a cute laugh at my face.

"Now you know why someponies calls me Sweet Buns, right?" I nodded, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't the only reason, as noted before.

"If you are interested, sir, you broke three ribs in your left breast, punctured a lung and had a concussion, besides general cuts and bruises." I swallowed the loaf with gusto, feeling it fill me slowly. After the little description of the resident medic, I felt it even more, pushing my ribs, and coughed. Nice way to remember me how wounded I am, sweet face. I made sure to press my eyes against him. I think he understood that I didn't need to hear that.

"Don't worry, you'll be as good as new! And forgive Mittens, he's more gentle with training dummies than with ponies," she reassured me. Good to know.

I was in a caravan, I think. If I try to dive into any of my memories, my head feels like it's going to explode. Probably it was because of the concussion he said I had. I couldn't do much from a bed, so I just ate and nodded. The trio in the corner talked vigorously about scrap metal, plane pieces and something about constructing a fort inside a cargo plane. The two foals were already running around, wreaking havoc inside the cabin, while nopony paid them attention. My head hurt just trying to keep up with them.

There were, in total, seven ponies inside the small shack for two, no wonder I felt so overwhelmed. Mittens continued "You may have memory problems from the impact. With all due respect, sir, but your plummet was outlandish."

One of the foals stopped, a small teal unicorn, and raised his forelegs in the air. "Yeah dude! It was aaawesome! You were voooooosh through the air and then BAM they hit you and you were like 'woo I'm falling!' and you-"

"Shut up, Filler! Gosh, you're soo irritating!" The mare with the steel beam uttered, breathing heavily after such words. Filler just put his tongue out at her and went back to running. I went back to my piece of loaf, just to see that it was already at the last bite.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you more, but you see how many ponies I need to feed, right?" Raspberry Cake told me, practically reading my mind. I nodded. I understand, and being another mouth to feed wasn't exactly my style, but I couldn't do anything while hurt.

Slowly, I regained control of my tongue, so I tried some words. "F-Thanksh." It went garbled, but understandable. Good enough for me.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll make up with us somehow." She smiled openly, and I swallowed the last bite. That smile didn't fit her face, and it made me feel bad, somehow.

I tried again, "S-sorry fer not hulpin'."

She smirked, I stretched my wings. "You're in no condition, there's no need to apologize."

"Dorcter, whart happen wif my carriage?" I was getting better, but still not enough. Mittens had a little bit of trouble to understand it, but soon after he answered.

"Your carriage was shot down with some kind of weapon-fired explosive, sir." I couldn't believe that I was shot down by some raider with a missile launcher. How could I be so stupid to not look around me while flying? "Nothing in the wreckage was recoverable, besides part of your contraptions and belongings." Sensing what I'd ask next, Mittens answered quickly: "Everything is under your bed, contained in a footlocker." I sighed. He approached his head slowly to my chest, waiting for me to give him permission to examine it. I rolled my eyes and put my arm aside.

Gently, he pulled my blanket and touched his ear against my broken ribs, that just now I noticed was covered in bandages and some kind of green gel that very much resembled moss. And just now I noticed that I was naked. Luckily, nobody noticed my slight blushing as I felt my face burn up with the thought that probably both Mittens and Raspberry Cake saw me naked. And probably they've needed to take off my clothes and- Why was I ashamed? It's not like they had anything to look at. They probably don't even know how griffins... work.

"Please, sir, breathe slowly." I calmly obey, breathing in until my lungs couldn't hold anymore and, as controlled as I could, breathed out without coughing. I failed. "Hm... Very nice. Please, now, try to say 'ninety nine'." I do, and he keeps his ear firmly into my chest, trying to hear every variation, every gasp of air. Suddenly he goes back and I quickly cover myself again. "You will be capable of taking off in five days, give or take." He finishes, saluting Raspberry Cake and going through the door, disappearing from my sight.

She approaches me and gives a impish laugh. "Don't care about Mittens and the pole up his ass, he's a good medic but he can't interact with anypony."

I nod. "It's hord to nat notiss."

She gives a heartily laugh and sighs, looking back to the other guests. Looks like everypony has eaten, though not everypony was actually satiated, and I was one of them. "Now go back to your own doings, foals, it's time for our guest to sleep a little more."

The copper-colored mare with the steel beam cutie mark snaps back at her "I'm only two years younger than you, Cake! I'm not a foal!" and storms out of the shack, while both colts that accompanied her laughed and went off behind her. The twins were already away from here when she asked them to leave.

I think she's right. It would be better, for me and for my wounds, if I just went back to sleep and focused all my efforts to get better. "Again... thanks." She just nods, smiling. I just, for some reason, wanted to sleep badly right now, and I just clo se my ey...

-=-=-=-

Through my barely open eyes, I watched two silhouettes floating above me, and steel ruffling my fur, touching bare skin. I couldn't make out what exactly was happening, but I was too drunk on sleeping to care. When the ruffling stopped, I could breathe better. Unconsciously, I stuffed my lungs with air and breathed out slowly, feeling my ribs stretching and retracting as usual. Only then I noticed that I didn't gasped for air, or felt the need to cough. "All nice and dandy, besides these little scars." I heard the sweet voice in my head again, and I felt the urge to smile.

"His fur will cover the scars with time, there is no need to worry about them." And the second voice made me want to puke.

With two strong blinks, I've finally regained limpidity, and saw both Mittens and Raspberry Cake over me, ripping my bandages out with an old pair of scissors. Pink light flooded the place, originating from her horn. "So, am I cured?" I think I startled them, felling the scissors pressing against my mended ribs with a tear escaping from my left eye. "Ouch," I added. Raspberry Cake corrected that in a blink of an eye, whispering that she's sorry under her breath.

"You are free to walk around, mister..."

I got it, it's the opportunity to present myself, mister Holier Than Thou. "Rufus Silvertongue." He nods and continues. "...but you are still not 'cured'." I'm sure he'd make quotation marks if he had talons. "You can not exert yourself, nor can take off yet. Act slowly and you may cure over the days."

"Here, let me help you," Raspberry Cake extended her hoof to help me. I tried my best to get up, using her as leverage. I felt like I still wasn't ready to leave the bed by my own legs, so I stayed sitting, though with my back erected.

"My back is killing me, after all this time without stretching." I extend my wings, purposely hitting Mitten's muzzle with the tip of my feathers. He shakes his head uncomfortable and recovers himself, while I try to hold the laughter. "Well, you said my things were under the bed, right?" He nods, and the footlocker is pulled by Cake's magic. I gave it a tiny kick, and with a click in its locks, it opens itself, revealing the white talon emblem in the small steel brassard. Oh goddess "Gawd is going to kill me!"

I remembered what was inside my wagon and "Oh goddess she's going to kill me so hard! She's going to flip a turned-on auto-axe in my A-"

"Calm down, for Celestia's sake! What's wrong?" Raspberry Cake probably noticed how pale I turned, and tried to stop my freak-out with a good shaking.

Only the pain that shot from my ribs made me stop and speak, "I-I had more than three thousand caps of weapons inside that wagon. They were meant to be delivered directly to her, and I- Goddess, I'm dead."

"No, you're not." She tried to reassure me. I just laughed.

"No no no, you didn't understand. I'm better off dead than to go back to her and tell her I just lost months of caps and survived to tell the story." I kept smiling, though even I couldn't understand if it was for hope or despair.

"But you survived. You survived and you're scared shitless of a mare that's hundreds of miles from here!" She, again, tried to reassure me. Mittens stood perplexed with the whole situation, without knowing what to do and sincerely offended with Raspberry's choice of words. "If you can't go back, you'd be really useful here."

I tried to breathe normally again. "What? I... I don't know. By the look of it, they were preparing for war. They wouldn't be happy to keep waiting for weapons that will never come. I think I need to, don't know, write her a letter or something." I ruffled through the footlocker searching for any piece of paper and a pencil. It was actually easy to find, and with a clipboard to help even more. I clasped the piece of paper to the clipboard and, while writing, I asked. "When's Derpy coming? I need to send this as soon as I can."

"Derpy?" They looked at each other, and sighed. Raspberry Cake put her hoof over the clipboard and, when I looked at her indignantly, she said, "She's not coming anytime soon."

"How's that?" I couldn't understand... There weren't a single settlement that she didn't visited one day of another.

"See, the same raiders that shot you don't like her. And they've made their encampment around us."

"...So you don't have any kind of contact with the outside, is that it?" I seriously found that hard to believe.

"Not exactly... You know, it's a long story. I can tell it after you've taken a good walk through the village, okay?" She put her hoof on my shoulder, and I nodded. Well, it was unnecessary to continue the letter, then.

Throwing the clipboard and the pencil back into the footlocker, I went back to get my things. First of all, I rummaged through my clothes and found what I was looking for with a smile: A small prosthesis made of titanium that I clasped in my left hand, standing in place of my middle talon. After some flexes of my hand, I started wearing the rest of my clothes.

"What's this metal thingie in your hand?" She asked, curiously.

While wearing my white turtleneck, I answered. "It's a sharpener of sorts. I use it as a cutter, to sharpen scrap metal." The next question is always 'why you don't have one talon', so I kept going, "It's my actual tool-of-trade. I'm a weapons dealer, and I manufacture my own blades. You can guess how I've lost a talon from that." That always shut them up, and I always ended up smiling like a bastard. After fastening my barding, I closed the metal brassard in my hindleg. "This is, like, my cutie mark." I pointed to the Talon's emblem. "At least when I'm doing business with them."

"Are you ready, sir Silvertongue?" The most boring pony in the room interrupted. "I will expose our village's structures for your general knowledge." I sighed, and jumped from bed. My legs were in a better shape than I thought, and I ventured taking a step forward. To my surprise, I didn't fall flat in the ground, so that's a start.

"Sure, let's go, shining armor." He didn't know how to react beyond silence, and that's a hell of a plus.

We walked past the door, Mittens first, when I finally had a glimpse of what I was messing with: The whole place was built over an airship bone yard, with pre-war coal cargo ships left and right. Raspberry Cake's shack was inside one of them cut in half, part of it stood correctly - that's the part where her shack was built - and the other part leaned, forming a slope. Her cabin was built touching the old ship's kitchen, as the oven is still from the original construction. The slope wasn't long, as we were approximately 60 feet from the ground, and the tip of the airplane broke against a huge rock that supported it. Both ends of the slope were corrected with scrap metal sheets, making it possible to walk without risk of losing a hoof or, in my case, a paw.

The guy was really taller than me, he couldn't possibly be a normal pony. The way he walked made him look like a lady, and his nose, always high and imposing, made him more effeminate than ever. Still, I was more worried about walking than about my 'guide', so I stood quiet and focused, trying not to fall over and hurt myself more than I already am.

"Following this inclination, you can wander to your left to reach one of the military airplanes discarded in this desolate place, where there is a door for an infirmary. That is my residence." Sure, that was easy to follow.

He turned to the right and signaled me to walk ahead. I nodded and took front of the tour. We walked a little over solid rock before returning to another scrap metal bridge at the other side, where I could see the construction trio working into something, pushing carriages in a hollow. It looked like they were trying to fill it so that they could cross it. To my right, there were another derelict cargo ship with many hydraulic doors in a long corridor.

"Everypony else sleeps inside these dormitories. You will receive your own key later." Again, I nodded. It certainly wasn't the most inviting corridor I've ever saw, but I could see that it was at least secure enough that you didn't need to be careful while sleeping.

He kept walking though, and I had to force my legs to continue. Another slope. I sighed and kept going, the only sound I heard was our own hoofsteps, and the occasional drop of carriage. At the end of this one slope, though, there were a huge turbine used made a makeshift gate, locking everypony inside. To the sides, boxes and containers were aligned to create a staircase to the two watch towers above the gate itself.

I heard a knocking. Then another. The raspiest voice I've ever heard uttered, from the other side of the wall of steel, "Open this shit, you sons of bitches!" I smiled when I saw Mittens' face, terrorized with the vocabulary used.

"Is this that-"

"Stunner. Yyyesss..." He really wasn't comfortable with swearing. Mittens approached the hulking gate and flipped a switch, opening a small hatch through which the ugliest ghoul I've ever seen entered. In his head, two small tufts of what remained of his grayed mane. Part of his jaw was missing, replaced by an antler's. His right eye was covered with a black eyepatch, and a gaping scar went from the center of his forehead to under his right ear, running around his muzzle and missing eye.

"And who the fuck is this fucker?!" He declared, as clean as a feral ghoul's mouth and, well, he is a ghoul.

"He's a visitor and a patient." Mittens tried to defend me, something I didn't expect. Stunner approached me, his working eye examining every bit of my appearance. He was so close that I could smell the weak cologne in his body and the scotch in his breath, no wonder that was his name. I shuddered with the strong clash of smells, and sneezed.

"He's a fucking fruity bird, get him the fuck out of here. I've got some pretty bad news for her," he groaned, walking towards Raspberry's shack.

"What bit him?" I asked, and was answered with a quick laugh, something that I didn't expect from somepony as 'educated' as Mittens.

"That is the way Stunner chose to interact with everypony else. This is something that, according to him, dates back from before the war." So he was alive when all hell broke loose. "Anyway, there is nothing that could be added continuing this tour." I nodded and thanked him without a drop of sincerity before starting the way back to Raspberry's house. If that's the way he went, that's where I'll go.

Level: 1

S: 5 | P: 4 | E: 7 | C: 9 | I: 6 | A: 5 | L: 4

Tags: Barter, Melee Weapons, Repair

Perks:

Author's Note

This chapter it focused in presenting Razor's Edge itself, and some of the characters in the story. The plot itself will be presented in the next chapter, Stunner apparently the harbinger of bad news. I'll appreciate comments and critics about the story and the way it's written.

This is a way for me to practice my english, as it's not my first language, so critics would be a good part of the practice.

Chapter 2: Threats and Demands

FALLOUT: EQUESTRIA
RAZOR'S EDGE
by Shukin

Chapter 2: Threats and Demands

I was greeted with a smile and a kiss on the cheek when I entered Raspberry's Cake shack, only that it was swearing and a kick in the gut. I cringed through my beak while gasping for air, trying to recompose myself after such sudden attack.

"I think I told you to get the fuck out of he-"

"Don't do this, you stupid ghoul," I heard her hoofsteps approaching fast, "he's injured!" She reached for me, the poor griffin in fetal position at his side on the ground. "Are you alright?" At least she looked worried. Still, I didn't think it was because they just closed my wounds, as if it were me, I'd be preocupied with the lost resources saving someone just to start again.

I uttered under my breath, "I'm fine, just need some time to breathe," with agony in my voice.

I think she got that, as she turned aggressively to the ghoul in the same breath, "Didn't Mittens tell you that he's our guest?! An injured one at that?!" She punctuated her words with pokes in his chest, his face changing from a serious frown to a relaxed grin.

"Y'know I can't take a mothefuckin' earth pony called Mittens seriously." He gave a quick chuckle and cleaned his throat, "Besides, y'know I'm not coming for hugs and kittens, it's some bad news and I ought to tell it quick."

"What is it, anyway? The balefire bombs are returning? The world is reforming? The sky opened and death is raining on us? There's a group of raiders wanting to kill us?" She didn't even wait to utter the next thing on the list, pointedly angry with the ghoul's attitude.

"The latter," I finally was good enough to get up with a little help of Raspberry Cake, enough to look back at the ghoul and see his broken teeth through his stupid grin. "and they're coming fast."

That got her by surprise, as suddenly my help ceased and I nearly got back to the ground face first. I huffed an ironic thanks, but I didn't think she listened. She went to the door and looked outside, as if trying to see beyond the metal gates of the village. I wasn't ready to face any kind of raiders, for the goddesses' sake. I've lost weapons, equipment... The only thing I had was, while I looked back into the footlocker, a six-round .44 rusty revolver with burnt wood grip, and ten bullets, six of them already loaded and four spread in the footlocker's bottom.

"Oooh, that's not good," she remarked. I coughed. "So, what do they want this time?"

The ghoul got a cigar from a pocket in his foreleg and was trying to lit it up with a hoof igniter, "They want that filly, Sparkly Beam, and they want her as fast as possible." Was this how the settlement got so small, being bullied by a bunch of raiders until nearly everyone just surrendered and joined them? That was a little harsh, but better than the alternative of starving to death.

"Please tell me you didn't tell her anything," she pleaded to him. I fastened the revolver's holster under my hurt wing, nopony would try to find something in there. "She's too courageous, and you know she would go to help us."

"You've got to be pretty stupid to do this, though," I added.

"Sometimes you've got to do stupid things to help ponies in need," she answered.

I took a heavy breath. "Nearly everypony else doesn't care about anypony other than themselves, you're a kind exception, Raspberry."

She shuddered and went back to talking to Stunner. "Didn't you try to negotiate or something? We could give them medicine, or food, or-"

"I'm not Celestia to make such a miracle, lady." He finally lighted up his cigar and bit it in a vacant space where a teeth should be. He took a breath and blew the resulting smoke through the hole in his jaw, the one with the antler. "It would take somepony with a silver tongue and guts to negotiate with them, and I nearly don't have a tongue to begin with."

I smiled defiantly. "Name's Rufus Silvertongue, travelling weapons merchant. I can take care of it." No, I didn't think so, but years of bullshitting ponies always paid off when telling a white lie. "You've never been deceived if you've never negotiated with a griffin."

"So, the little fruity bird not only is hurt and crying like a foal, but can't even hold himself into a fight? You've got to be kidding me." Stunner was clearly disappointed with the news that I was a merchant. I kept smiling, though.

"Didn't you hear me? I'm a traveller. Throw me anything and I can handle it, with my tongue or my skills." Wait, that came out wrong. I think they both got the accidental innuendo, as childish giggles were heard from them.

"I'm sure you can handle it, cowboy. Why don't you go there and offer them your services?" Another puff of smoke, this time in my direction. I coughed a little, hating every second beside that ghoul. Was Raspberry Cake the only decent mare in this whole village?

"You know what, I will," I said, walking to the door. They both kept giggling before Raspberry Cake went from joyous to worried in a split second.

"Wait, you're serious?" She hurried to me, blocking my way with her hoof. "You can't go there alone, you'll be eaten alive!"

"And they sure love some fried bird-"

"Stunner will accompany you," she added cleverly.

"What?!" He were clearly offended with that, choking up the smoke. "You're telling me to jump into the fire with this parakeet?" And that offended me!

"Hey! Watch it!" I rebuked him, but he paid no attention to it.

"You're the only one who can guide himself through the carcasses on hooves." she explained. Well, that was a good reason.

"And now he can't even fucking fly? A bird without fucking wings, what good would he be?" He talked like I wasn't directly at his side.

Well, they could argue as much as they wanted, I needed a decent weapon if I were to throw myself into the middle of a bunch of raiders. I didn't need to go much away from the door to find a piece of scrap metal lying on the metallic floor. It was a completely flat piece, good enough for what I wanted to do, but still too flat for me to comfortably use. I made my way in the direction to where the trio of foal were pushing carriages, just to find a makeshift bridge made of a carriage itself, totaled from what it looked like it was simply dropped in the ground. Carefully, I crossed it and kept going.

I walked through a small corridor, leading into a twisted doorway, the pounding of metal echoing on the walls. I was sure they were in there, with that talk about making a fort, or something. I wasn't wrong, on the other side of a large hall, probably an old cargo hold, were the three ponies, nailing together containers. I knew I'd find what I wanted in their hooves. "Hey," I screamed, trying to get their attention, "got any unicorn hammers here?" Unicorns usually didn't used their hooves to nail things, like earth ponies and pegasi have to with steel boots, and their hammers were much more appropriate for griffin talons than a hoof-based one.

Sparkly Beam uttered something to the other two ponies, probably some kind of order, and trotted in my direction. I waited patiently for her to come close, crossing the big hall between us. "You said something, griffin?" She turned her ear at me, trying to understand me through the constant pounding.

"I asked! If! You! Have! A! Unicorn! Hammer!" Every word of mine was interrupted by the sound of both colts nailing the containers, but it looked like she understood what I said this time.

"Sure, come with me!" She lead the way, coming back through the same twisted doorway I came through.

I followed her to the dormitories' corridor, and she entered the second door, labeled 'Workshop'. Inside, there were many tools that I could use and, as it looked like, they used to mold the bone yard to their liking and needs. "You can find them nailed to the back wall!" she said happily, pointing me to the hammers to the right of saws, a sledgehammer and even a electric drill.

"Thanks, Sparkly Beam... is that right?" She positively beamed when I said her name. I didn't think she found it strange for me to know her even though we've never been introduced to each other.

"Y-you're welcome! I'vegotsomethingtodobye!" And she darted from the workshop, leaving me alone with a hammer in my right talon.

I approached the workbench and locked the piece of scrap metal on its vise, giving it a good swing or two with the hammer. About ten minutes went by with me hammering the piece of scrap metal, now looking like something I'd use, curved in its center, enough for me to firmly grasp it in my left hand. Happy with my work, I leave the workshop and start the second search for a piece of scrap.

"There you are, fruity bird." Stunner's raspy voice came from above, as he crossed the shack's door. It looks like they've finished discussing a few moments before and now the ghoul was searching for me. "I thought you would be crying in some corner somewhere, begging for whatever that thing you call your mommy."

"Ha ha ha very funny, smoothskin," I called him back, actually surprising the centuries old ghoul. That is a rare way of offending a ghoul. "let's just go already."

He chuckled and quickly went down the slope, walking in front of me. In the middle of the second slope - the one leading to the gate - I got a small piece of scrap metal that was scattered on the ground and put it in between my neck feathers. We got the gate working, the ghoul misteriously stopping in his tracks after it opened. I waited a little.

"What's wrong, piece of meat?" He was so focused in whatever he was doing that he didn't react to the offense. I tried to focus too, following his working eyesight to find his focus. I couldn't see anything wrong with-

"Aha! There's the goddessesdamned problem!" He blurted, making his way to the pile of crates on the inside. From there, he jumped with the wall's help and bit a metal ring in the tip of a steel cord that ran over the wall.

That startled me for more than a second, getting me out of focus instantly and accelerating my breath for a moment. Everything was fine, I didn't need to be so focused into something so trivial. The ghoul past the metal ring through the switch that activated the turbine to open the gate and trotted in my direction.

"See, that's why I got fucking locked out there. Some bastard took the goddessesdamned ring from the fucking lever." He declared proudly, turning around and continued walking. I just shrugged and followed him.

It was quite a walk actually, we went through at least three other ships and more carcasses than I've ever seen, always looking behind me to where I was stepping. The whole place felt like a trap, and that was probably the idea: Somewhere that looks unsecure is not inviting, and it probably stopped many raider attacks earlier. I sped my steps to approach the old ghoul, standing by his side. "So, Raspberry Cake said that they did have outside communication... Was that you?"

"Damn right it's me. I know these parts long before any of those assholes came here searching for their own wasteland paradise, a 'natural' fortress to claim to themselves. I'm the original owner, and nopony's got a say about it." He was really proud of that, with the way he said it.

"What's your story, anyway?" Maybe he worked here before the bombs? Plus, I still needed to ask about that antler in his jaw, it was driving me crazy.

"Why should I fucking tell you?" And yet, he was right, it wasn't of my business.

"Because... raiders?" I don't know, any motive is a motive.

He looked pensative for a moment, after we jumped a little chasm between ships. We were actually getting close to the ground now, and I couldn't see the way we came looking above my shoulder, the airplane boneyard was really an impressive maze. "Whatever, sissy."

We finally reached the ground, as dry as everything else in the wasteland. It was funny to feel grass on my paws, even if it was drier than salt, as I was used to flying everywhere. Now that I'm stranded, at least I had these kind of sensations to make me smile. Sure, the smile only lasted for a couple of minutes, as the novelty wore off and I saw black patches on the ground, dry blood.

"We're getting close, look." He nodded with his head, pointing forward. The whole boneyard was located inside a valley, with enough rocks and planes torn apart to bring the village to the hill's level, but we had to climb the whole valley through a grassy hill. We were close to the top of the hill when he told me that, and I sped my steps to reach him again, actually tired of walking in my health state. "There's the goddessesdamned village."

"Wait, I thought it was a raider encampment-" and I interrupted myself, speechless with the view. There were at least a thirty houses - full-blown houses, with foundations and roofs! - forming a barrier that blocked the hill's slope at its base. That's where we're headed, in the middle of that much people. I thought we had to worry for twenty raiders at max, and a whole city of ponies exploded in my face. That wasn't going to be easy at all.

Approaching them was easy, our steps on the hill rolling gently with is smooth inclination. I saw ponies everywhere, from armed guards with spears in their mouths to little foals playing with a dry wheat. Even though it looked like a proper city, their dwellers weren't. There were blood marks everywhere, with crude drawings on the walls and vandalism rampant. There were at least a hundred raiders - and I had to call them that, giving their clothing and culture - in the village.

As we came close of the actual ponies, I could sense hostility from every pair of eyes that looked at us. Even though I was a complete stranger in that middle, they didn't dare attack us, probably because of Stunner. I saw how defiant he walked in there, like if the whole place was his', and it was funny to see how there wasn't that much destruction anywhere in the clearly pre-war village besides the raider's work.

We walked past a butcher slaying and taking apart a whole brahmin, its pieces being arranged over a big makeshift grill in the middle of the city, some twenty or thirty raiders patiently, in their own way, waiting for the next meal. That was the center of the whole village. Everypony was armed, everypony looked like they could kill their mothers if it would bring them their needs. Behind the butcher, in a throne made of- I couldn't finish the last line of thought when I nearly puked with the realization.

"The guy in the pony throne is Bonelord, who knows how he got that name, don't ya think?" Stunner whispered to me. When he didn't got an answer, he looked at me and saw how pale I was with the idea of a fucking throne made of ponies' parts. "Oh, the little baby's going to puke?" He and another raider that was passing by shared a laugh. The ghoul gave me a pat in the back that made pain run through my wounded wing. I think he noticed I didn't like it, but it actually helped me to regain control.

"He's just a hotshot that killed his predecessor. Guy's lucky nopony has balls to take him out," he whispered again, walking towards the grill. As we got closer, the heat got a lot worse than before, making me sweat profusely. Bonelord noticed our approach and stood up. "Ave Bonelord! Aren't you grandious today?!" And that's a hypocrite, if I've ever seen one, talking bad in the back and licking his balls in front of him.

Only when he actually stood up that I noticed how big that guy was. I could see his muscles flexing with each movement under his black fur, and his white mane was braided into three cornrows, probably by one of the mares around him, all unicorns. He smiled when his green eyes found the ghoul's working one, showing his yellow, sharp teeth. "Stunner, the sovereign of the wicked," his voice echoed with a strong scent of whiskey, and I think I know where they knew themselves, "we're in the middle of a celebration! Come, join me in our feast!"

He moved back to his throne, giving me the opportunity to see what was his cutie mark by the small gap in his metal armor, probably made from scrap metal from the planes welded together by the looks of it. It was a broken pony skull, without its jaw and with a crack in its forehead. Charming.

His handmaidens ran as fast as they could inside the building behind his throne, probably their headquarters as it has a open balcony to the plaza, and brought back two chairs, putting one at each side of the bloody throne. He lazily threw himself over it, while we were directed by a cute blue earth pony mare to our seats.

I joined them with distrust, sitting by his left. It really looked like Stunner was known by the raiders, many of them greeting him on the way to the chair. Luckily, it wasn't made of ponies too, but it was too close to the real thing for me to get comfortable. The meat was smelling great, but my appetite was killed earlier.

As the meat was getting done, ponies would fight - sometimes literally - for pieces of it, savoring each bite as it was their last. At least they weren't cannibals.

I pulled the curved plate from under my turtleneck and held it firmly with my left hand, putting the cutter parallel to it, then reached for the piece of scrap metal I got earlier. I needed to start working if something went wrong.

"Tell me the news, my friend. Who is your feathered companion?" Bonelord was quite educated for somepony who was a leader of a raider city. I chipped the piece of metal for the first time against my 'finger'. It would be fast, but not durable, the material was too malleable.

"The featherbrain there is Razor's friend." Stunner said, while trying to choose which piece of meat he would take. After finding a juicy one, not quite ready, he took a bite of it and held it in his hooves deformed by the time. It was funny that he talked like the village was just one pony. "They were not happy with your proposition, y'know."

"How would that be? I'd free them from worry! One less mouth to feed for them, and I'd take care of her as my personal concubine!" He really looked offended with the idea of not having his wish fulfilled. I took another chip, and another. It was quickly turning into a fine blade, but I wouldn't use it for more than one, as it would break. It'll really be my backup plan, in the end.

"I know, right? They can't see an opportunity even when it hits them in their face! That's why he's here, they want him to convince you that they're nopony's." And, just as that, Stunner betrayed me. What about a more friendly way to put it, you bastard?!

"Oh, really?" Bonelord gave me a glance that froze me in my tracks, still with a piece of metal in hands. "It's not time to discuss these matters, my friend and his guest, first we feast, then we talk. Ura!" He raised his left hoof, and every pony in the vicinity made the same gesture, accompanied by the exclamation. I've read about something like that somewhere before, but I couldn't recall from where exactly.

I returned to my own business, refusing with a low 'I'm sorry, I'm not hungry' every time a handmaiden offered me more and more meat. Ponies sang and eat and fight, some painted a huge bull in one of the building's outer wall, with a bucket of what I presumed was blood. I was probably right.

After half an hour of small talk and 'feasting', my curiosity radar sprung up, and I looked at Bonelord. "Erm... Sir Bonelord?" I called, trying to be heard by him.

He answered quickly, "Call me just Bonelord, friend of my friend. What's the matter?"

"Why are you feasting for?"

"Oh, that is a valid question! Our scouts in the north hit some stupid merchant caravan two days ago, and returned with a glorious stockpile of weapons! We finally are enough armed to outrival and to awe the Remnants! This is a day of feasting, for tomorrow will be a day of fighting!" Those who heard again saluted and screamed for the 'glory' of Bonelord.

"And guess what? The featherbrains was part of that caravan! Ha!" There it goes, my cover, flying graciously around the smoke and into the shroud of clouds. Goddesses, Stunner.

"Really? What a pleasant surprise! This weak griffin would not be match for us, at least we won't need to worry ourselves in the case the caravan came to get their weapons back!" He gave a hearty laugh and a strong pat in my back, pressing both the revolver against my ribs, and my wing against the revolver. The pain made me cringe, but I swallowed it quietly.

"Look, they're on my back and I can't take too long. Can we talk now?" Stunner spoke, ten minutes after the last word was uttered. Bonelord nodded and got up, making his way around the throne and into the building I presumed earlier was their headquarters.

Bonelord didn't even open his own doors, as the handmaiden's magic did all the work. We followed him through the big double doors, greeted by a huge fountain in its center, pouring a unending quantity of water from the mouth of some kind of big cat into the clear pool under it. "Welcome to my sanctuary and home, friends. We may discuss your terms in my private quarters." He guided us to a spiral stairway that, by some miracle, he fitted in and we went to the second floor.

It looked like the whole floor was his residence, with two double doors adorned with the same big cat's head on both sides and white walls. Finally he did something with his own hooves, opening the doors for us to go inside. I hesitated a little before doing so. "How do you use so many water for... decoration?!" I questioned him, shocked with that many fountains in the same place. There was some huge bathtub in the center, every pillar of the four around the room had its own little fountain and, still, every drop was completely clean!

"Beautiful, isn't it? Somehow, this building has a functional water talisman in its basement! You can even drink from the water, it's totally clean. A small miracle that endured the cleansing." He got himself out of his metallic armor and entered the central pool. Both me and Stunner stood out of that. "Make yourselves comfortable."

I sat into some pillows by the side, Stunner preferred the ground.

"You've said something about Remnants, right?" I asked, he nodded positively. "I'm new to these parts, would you care to explain?"

"They're glorious! The biggest group in the southeast coast! They honor ponykind's greatest foe with their traits and manners, magnificent in numbers and renowned in battle!" Every word uttered made him throw a little bit of water out of the magnified bathtub, with exhilarated movements. I could clearly see him, a fully-grown big ass scary earth pony, squealing for them, one of their biggest fans. I giggled.

"Their best warriors adorns themselves with stripes, y'know," I looked at Stunner, he was already smoking his stinking cigar, "keeping the zebra's tradition." So that's why they called themselves remnants.

"They're my inspiration. Since I'm a little foal I always had the dream of walking up to them and taking a place in between their ranks," he sheepishly said, "but I was never selected. Now I'm too old for that, so I'm trying to impress them enough for us to have the permission to raise their banners and fight for them."

"And you killed your predecessor just so you'd have this opportunity?" It felt like I was interviewing him.

"Not exactly," that didn't actually surprise me, but I still made a shocked face, "Deathwish was wicked. The wrong kind of remnant, of war and destruction. His name got quite a prophetic meaning when I thought it was enough." Well, he is more sophisticated and organized than I thought. "I think you came here with a proposition, right?"

I woke up from my thoughts. "Y-yeah. I'm here in behalf of Razor's Edge and its citizens, quite like Stunner here." I heard a protesting mumble, but I ignored it. "And I'm here to tell you that the filly you asked will not come, nor anypony else."

That clearly upset him, hitting the water with his hoof and jumping straight, getting up in his hooves. "What did you say?!" I think the blade was good enough if needed, and that gave me the necessary confidence.

"Exactly what you've heard. Nopony inside that village belongs to you, you don't have the right to demand anything from them." Maybe I was being too harsh? Well, he recognized strength, I'd probably need to show some. I got myself up, sitting on both my hindlegs and keeping my hands where I could use them, blade still in hand. It was easy to pretend I was just fixing my talons, and gave me an air of imposing authority or boredom that was priceless.

He was already on all-fours, walking slowly in my direction. "You come into my house, you eat my food and you will not fulfill my demands?!" It was a pretty aggressive tone, that one. Still, I didn't back up.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. If you want her so badly, go catch her yourself!" And I stared into his eyes. The stare took a lot more time than I thought it would take, both of us without taking a step forward or backward in his own word. When he finally moved himself against me, I felt it was the time to strike.

He rushed in my direction, what made easier to throw the sharpened piece of scrap metal into his chest, above his foreleg. That got him by surprise, but he didn't falter. I used every muscle in my hindlegs that I could think of to jump as high as I could, and gave myself a boost with my wings.

That hurt more than the kick Stunner gave me earlier, but gave me the opportunity to jump over him and to pull the revolver in the same movement. I dropped in his back, locking my hindlegs around his waist and giving him the butt of the one-handed weapon right behind his ear. That made him falter, missing one of the steps and falling to his side, moments after I let go of him.

Again, with a painful wing beat, I regained control of my fall and stomped his face against the marble floor, revolver in hand against his temple. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to walk, it hurt. My wings were burning. Still, I screamed with little voice I had after, "Or we can make a deal!" With blood running through his chest and spilling onto the clean black rock under him, and a griffin pointing a gun that nopony else have seen to his head, he finally heard sense into my words. "I will take the gun back now, okay?"

Little after I stopped pointing the business end of the revolver to his head, he got up and bit my makeshift weapon away from his chest. "You've got spirit, friend. Make your demands," said him, sitting on the pillows I was earlier. I lost some time trying to recompose myself, breathing slower. For some reason, Stunner was completely quiet, cigar in mouth, watching the whole ordeal.

"You're intelligent, and wise. I kind of see that. Still, your motivation is completely messed up: What would you do after the Remnants claim this village? First, they'd take the water talisman for themselves, depriving you of clean water, then they'd use your stallions as dogs, sending those untrained troops to die against their enemies, a literal wall of flesh destined to die." That's what I'd do, but I'm not going to tell him that. "I know how zebras are, okay?" No, I don't.

"You may be right, but what would I do then? Pillaging? We need some way to live, and that's what I'm trying to do! Do you think it's easy to command and protect hundreds of ponies without resorting to violence!"

"You don't need to resort to violence to survive in the wasteland! I'm a merchant, and I'm still alive, ain't I?" Barely, but still. "You need to offer something to them before anypony treats you pacifically."

"And what would we, a bunch of hungry and desperate ponies, would have to offer?!" He raised his voice again, getting more and more desolated. I was cracking him.

"You've got water! Do you have any idea how rare clean water is in this hellhole?!"

"Enough!" he screamed, getting up again and hitting a stone plate on the wall. Suddenly, two handmaidens bursted through the double doors, one of them promptly cleaning the floor of every drop of blood, the other trotting to the other side of the room and picking a first-aid box, complete with the three pink butterflies on its lid. She fished for a healing potion and floated it over his mouth. "Leave, I have much to think about."

Stunner and I got away from his house in a matter of seconds, the old ghoul used to that exact pathway. Ponies were still feasting and eating when we walked away from the small city, following the same hill we used hours ago. Only then, far from everypony else, Stunner finally began to speak.

"Holy cow, didn't think you've got it in you, featherbrain!" He giggled, coughed and continued to speak through another cigar. "I'm sure he'd serve your own feathered ass to you if he fought back, but you did more than half the ponies I know. Hell, half the ponies I know are dead!"

"I hate to admit, but you're right. I don't even know how he fell for that, but I'm glad he did," my beak was pretty fine in its actual place, thanks, "and he looked pretty shocked with how the whole 'conversation' ended like. Maybe he's going to see reason."

"Maybe? I told you he's just big, that guy will eat from your hoof the next time you meet with him! He's too young to be ruthless enough for the position."

"He still used a throne made of ponies. I can't see that as 'not ruthless enough'."

"That's not his," he said between puffs of smoke.

"No?"

"Deathwish's. Got what he deserved, the bastard. My jaw? The motherfucker thought he could intimidate me. Thought wrong, bitch."

The rest of the trip back was pretty quiet, and it looked like it would rain, so we walked faster back to the settlement. I think I'll visit Raspberry Cake again.

Footnote: Level Up!
Perk: Sharp Reflexes (Level 1)
"You may not notice every time, but you're always a step ahead of everypony! Reaction times raised by 10%."

Author's Note

Second chapter in the second day. I don't have much to add to the story at this point, and I hope the chapters aren't boring while everything doesn't fall to its places. For those that expected more blood, death and angst, like a lot of sidefics and Fo:E itself, well, I told you that it had a different pacing.

I hope everyone likes it.

Chapter 3: Feathers

FALLOUT: EQUESTRIA
RAZOR'S EDGE
by Shukin

Chapter 3: Feathers

"Haven't you learned anything? You can't exert yourself, Rufus."

That was the second time I was receiving some kind of scolding since I'd been shot down. Both Mittens and Raspberry Cake were at the shack when Stunner and I arrived, they were discussing about their resources, and how the next meal would be. It looked like there wasn't going to be another meal that day.

"I've made him rethink what he wants, isn't that a good enough reason?" I tried to defend myself, but even if I actually had a point, she was right.

"You were pretty stupid to go there thinking you could fight their leader in your actual state." She looked pretty worried, helping Mittens to apply some Med-X to the base of my hurt wing. The pain quickly vanished, the medicine doing its part.

"'Sometimes, you have to do stupid things to help somepony,' right?" That actually made her giggle, pulling the needle back and discarding the syringe. Mittens used both his hooves to move my relaxed wing a little and, when I didn't react to it, he gave a sincere smile. He probably was happy that nothing was damaged after all the time and resources they'd used to cure me.

"Okay, you've got a point," she added, "though you still were stupid, and reckless."

"Nothing has changed since our last appointment, and my forecast stands true." How could Mittens not see how finicky he usually acted? Would he ever relax? I nodded, signaling I've understood that.

In some days, I'll finally be possible to take off, and everything is going to be better. My interaction with that raider city and Bonelord himself made me ponder about their relationship with these villagers, and I couldn't keep that to myself forever. "They look quite civilized for a bunch of raiders, you know? Since when they've made the city their home?"

It was Stunner that answered, surprising me. "Something like five years ago. Deathwish's appeared out of nowhere, raining bullets and blood at us, and they," he pointed to both Raspberry Cake and Mittens, "ran the fuck out of there like puppies under the rain. I stood firmly there, protecting my old home, when that motherfucker did this." He pointed to his own jaw.

"It wasn't long ago, then." At the time, they'd ran as fast as they could, and they got lucky to find this shelter. "Well, that doesn't explain how you have such young foals running around this place."

"Their parents could not make their journey to our actual settlement, joining our goddesses." I thought they were orphans, but I really didn't expect somepony like Mittens to have any kind of belief into something two centuries old. "We have taken care of them since then."

"We lived with ten more ponies before the attack," Raspberry explained, "some of them died during the initial wave, others couldn't survive their wounds-"

"We did not have access to our actual pharmacy at the time," Mittens interrupted her, noticing his faux pas and covering his mouth with one of his hooves.

"...And others joined the raiders, in the same way they've wanted to get Sparkly Beam," she ended her own explanation properly, this time.

"So you mean some of those handmaidens of his'..."

"Came from here? Exactly, feathers." Stunner confirmed my suspicions, pulling another cigar. This time, Raspberry Cake helped him to light it. "That blue unicorn with creamy mane is called Sunlight, the one that spoke to me through the feasting was Starry Night."

"There was a third one that joined them, Strawberry Meringue, my sis'." It was funny how neutral Raspberry Cake was when talking about those losses. Well, they've had a lot of time to cope with it, that's probably why they're so open about it. "She was marvelous, I've learned nearly everything I know about cooking from her ways. She herself learned it from our mother, but I was too young to remember when she died."

"I'm sorry," I said, without even realizing it. I guess it was a common thing to happen on the wasteland, but I still had that part of me that told me it was the right and sensible thing to do.

"Don't worry about it, as I said, I was too young." She shrugged, and trotted to the old refrigerator that filled the background with its unending hum. A quick sparkle of magic, and it opened. The three of us waited patiently for whatever she went there to get, and it was a pleasant surprise when a half-full bottle of whiskey floated in our direction in her magical grasp. "Here, to our own commemoration."

"Dibs!" The damn ghoul swiftly changed the cigar to the hole in his jaw and grabbed the bottle, taking a full swig before Raspberry's magic finally struggled the drink from his hooves.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not going to drink from that now!" I put my tongue out, showing disgust. They've got the joke, that's good. "Here, gimme that, I need it more than both of you together," I said, taking a sip from the bottle. The warm sensation in my belly comforted me through the burning in my throat, and I slowly felt more relaxed.

"Hey, I just noticed I didn't told you how this motherfucker has convinced Bonelord to think!" said Stunner, sitting by my side on the bed in the corner of the shack.

-=-=-=-=-

We passed the bottle around while he told of our adventures through the raider city, from the feasting full of brahmin meat to how I reacted to the throne. At least Mittens and Raspberry shared my opinion about that monstrosity. While the story kept going, the bottle got emptier and emptier. We laughed, and the ghoul got more and more exhilarated.

"...and just when Bonelord tackled him, the fucking bird did a somersault, locked his front paws around that huge neck and strangled him, unarmed! He tackled the wall two times, trying to free himself from the strong grip that was stealing his breath and, moments later, he dropped without a glimpse of life in his eyes!" The ghoul drinks again, coughing and laughing.

"Hey, that's not how it happened at all!" I protested, but it just made everypony else laugh. I giggled, alcohol in firm grasp of my sobriety. "I know I'm awesome, but a somersault?!"

"That's how I remember it, that's how I'll tell it!" He got another cigar and put by his mouth, failing hard to lighten it. After some time trying in vain, he spat the cigar back to his foreleg pocket. "Gah, fuck it. I'm out, tomorrow's going to suck if Bonelord decides to kill us all."

I waved to him and took another shot, slowly descending until I was lying on the bed, wings relaxed and a stupid grin in my face. Stupid, stupid alcoholic grin. I didn't even notice when Mittens gave a sympathetic hug to Raspberry Cake and went back to his clinic. I didn't even notice when she took the bottle from my talon, and went outside.

I thought the fresh air would make me better, so I rolled out of the bed, nearly falling numbly to the ground. With my wobbly legs, I fought my own balance to make my way outside, where she was leaning on a piece of the old fuselage, improvised as a rail. It was already night, a simple lightbulb above the shack's door poorly illuminated the slope. In the distance, you could see a small blinking red dot, that I recognized as one of those towers that transmitted DJ Pon-3 signal. I approached her cautiously, not wanting to hurt myself even more with an accidental fall.

When I stood by her side though, I noticed the small trail of a tear from her right eye, glimmering in the weak lamp light. She had the bottle between her hooves and, without a glance, she drank. I stopped there, the world swirling under my paws. I hiccuped, and turned around. If she wasn't the one bringing it up, it wouldn't be of my business. I could hardly see the slope, going as slow as my legs let me, trying to redirect myself to the second level of the city, where I still could hear chatter coming from the bottom of the corridor, probably of those three. Foals are too active to go to sleep early.

I dragged my drunk body to one of the doors, having trouble with turning the hatch's valve to the right side. When I finally succeeded, I stumbled forward, faltering. As I presumed, it was empty, as it was probably the worst room in the whole place, the room next door being the workshop. I've always slept like a rock, so noises from the other side wouldn't bother me.

I only noticed that I slept on the floor when I woke up, body completely sore and my head pounding. Goddesses, I'd only drank like that a few years back, with my old caravan - I need to try to contact them later - when I was new to the whole merchant thing. I got up, cracking nearly every bone in my spine and twisting my neck, trying as hard as I could to ease the soreness. I kind of deserved that, nopony told me to accept the drink.

Now sober, I looked around, examining what would be my bedroom for some time. On the bedroom's opposing wall, a sealed hatch with broken glass gave me a good view of the sky, still as cloudy as ever. There was simple table to my right, and the bed was on my left - still, my body preferred to just drop a few feet away from a more comfortable night.

Nothing of interesting was in the bedroom itself, though I could try to scavenge for a weapons locker to brighten up the place. The bed was like that solid block of metal of Raspberry's shack, with a slot to slide a footlocker under it. The table was made of metal too, welded to the wall firmly. At least everything was sturdy.

I opened the hatch, hearing voices and laughs outside. Barely a step outside, I was hit by a missile in a filly's body, falling to the ground with her on top of me. "Hey, not even a 'good day', miss?" I joked, recognizing Sparkly Beam's mane in my face. In the background, I heard two male laughs, probably both those two colts that were always with her were pulling her leg. She took a second longer to understand what just happened, shook her head out of dizziness and jumped higher than I ever could, as red as Raspberry's jumpsuit.

"I-I'm sorry! I'll kill both of you!" she responded as she darted towards them, both running as fast as they could through the same pathway they've created yesterday. I got up, laughing about the whole situation, and walked to Raspberry's shack. With it being at the top of the village, it turned into a headquarters of our own, and the sweet smell of a fresh batch of whatever Raspberry Cake was baking reached my nostrils before I opened the door. After savoring it for a moment, I went inside, just in time to see her fighting against a pack of flour to put it back into its place, a cupboard slightly higher than her.

I wondered why she was using her hooves to raise the pack, instead of her magic. A quick glance to the pack itself, made of old paper, explained it, with its bottom poorly glued back together. Probably, it had ripped apart while she did exactly that, as the whole weight would be focused on the bottom of the pack if she lifted it with her magic.

"Here, let me help you," I approached her, taking the pack from her hooves and easily reaching the cupboard. Still, I let it close to the door, so the next time she would need it, it would be easier to retrieve. She smiled to me, though it lasted a lot less than the usual, at least from what I gathered in these two days I'm conscious. "Mittens is the one who usually helps you with this, right?" She nodded, focusing her attention to the oven. I sat on the bed. "So," I said, trying to break up the awkward silence, "what's today's lunch?"

"Sparkle-Cola cake." She didn't even looked at me.

Well, if that was about yesterday, I couldn't exactly understand what made her sad like that, so I laid on the bed, crossing my forelegs behind my head and relaxing my wings at my sides. Not long after, Mittens appears with a basket of foals in his mouth, the youngest twins of the village inside it, having the time of their lives.

"The journey is over, little foals," he said, resting the basket on the ground. Both foals groaned, the hyperactive teal unicorn quickly realizing I was there and trotting in my direction. His sister, a cyan unicorn with a dash of white in her mane, preferred to stay along Mittens.

He approached me, amazed by my wings, I think that's the first time he saw them in their totality. "Whoa... So awesome!"

I smiled. "And quite flexible, if you know what I mean." I raised my right wing, cutting the air a few times. Every time it moved, his jaw dropped, completely hypnotized by my feathers. One of them fell slowly, and I relax my wing once again.

Mittens didn't approve my innuendo, by the way he stared at me. I didn't care, he's too young to understand it anyway. The foal tried to float the feather with a telekinetic grip, failing and resorting to his hooves. With curiosity, he twisted and moved the feather around, trying to understand it.

"Why some of your feathers are white?" He stared at my neck and face, where those feathers were abundant.

"It's because I'm a griffin, and griffins have these two-colored scheme," I answered cleverly.

"And why some of them are red?" I think he was asking about the highlights around my eyes, or at the tip of my head feathers.

"I got it from my mom's side... Hey foal," I whispered, bringing my beak close to his ear. "want to learn a secret?"

He nodded, completely focused on my words. I grinned.

"My mother was half-dragon. I might have some dragon blood too," I said, as quietly as I could.

I thought he would explode of excitement at the mention of that possibility. I think Mittens heard it as well, which made me question my sneaking capabilities. Still, I went back to my relaxed stance, while the foal freaked out with the news, running around everywhere. Raspberry Cake took the golden cake off the oven and let it over the table to cool.

While we waited, she approached Mittens with a serious face, "We're out of eggs. Should we send Stunner to catch more?"

"I do not think he will cooperate easily. Remember what we had to do last time? It will probably be worse this time," Mittens answered, clearly uncomfortable with whatever memory he had from 'the last time'.

"New on the town, anypony?" I called their attention, remembering them that I don't have idea of what they were talking about. "What happened last time, anyway?"

They were clearly embarrassed, and didn't want to speak about it. Still, I stared at them until Raspberry Cake broke: "Okay, okay, I'll tell you. He asked for our whole stock of scotch. Seven bottles." She sighed. "Those were my best ones."

Are they seriously risking starvation for booze? "I can't believe you, guys." I giggled, and they were still embarrassed with the pretty stupid reason. I sat straight and crossed my forelegs, "Still, it is kind of expensive for a bunch of eggs. I don't see why he asked that much."

They looked at each other, and gave a little smile. Mittens nodded, Raspberry shook her head, he nodded harder, she sighed, he looked at me. "Are you feeling better?"

"A lot, I don't feel pain even if I twist my wing," I said while doing exactly that, "so I think I'm finally close to a hundred percent."

"Could you, please, try to convince him?" That sounded much more shady in Raspberry's voice than Mittens could emote. "I'm sure he'll listen to you." I wouldn't bet on that, miss.

Before I could answer, one of the colts that followed Sparkly Beam burst through the open doorway, nearly hitting Mittens. His cream fur just emphasized how shaken he was, with his curly black mane covering his eyes. "M-Mister! A-ar-are y-you R-Ruf-fus?" I couldn't notice if it was an actual stutter or just anxiety.

"Calm down, colt! That's me, alright, what's the matter?" I tried to reassure him, though that didn't helped him at all.

"I t-think y-you s-should c-c-come t-to the g-gates!" And, just as that, he darted out of the room. I looked to both Mittens and Raspberry with startled eyes. After a second that felt longer than usual, they awkwardly nodded and I followed him as fast as I could.

While running down the slope, I felt my ribs aching, remembering me that I needed at least one more day to a full recovery, if Mittens was right. Reaching the gates, I saw the colt alongside Sparkly Beam and the other member of their trio. On one of the gate towers, Stunner stood tall. I approached the scene, easily climbing the crates to the tower where he was.

Just as I stepped on the metal floor, he noticed my presence and pointed forward, to the hill that lead to the start of the boneyard's entrance. "Look, there's our answer." I couldn't see anything but a strange movement and some banners, though it was too far to understand what was displayed.

Noticing my difficulty, Stunner pointed me to a pair of binoculars next to him. I quickly grabbed it, both of us without any kind of expression, completely focused at the problem at hoof. Through its lenses, I saw a red bull painted on the banners, and a very recognizable silhouette leading about ten raiders. "Are you kidding me?" I said, incredulous. That couldn't be right. "Is that a raid?!"

"I hope so," Stunner muttered. I gave him a quick glance, and I was actually afraid that the smile that warped his rotten face was sincere. We went as fast as we could all the way to the entrance of the boneyard, every feather on my body trembling with excitement, or anxiety, it's a line too thin between both for me to recognize which is which.

He didn't wait for us to approach, Bonelord yelling his words while we got closer, "Bird of prey!" Did he called me a predator? Was that a compliment? "I, Bonelord, bring forth my best soldiers!"

As we were in close range, his troops surrounded us, spears in mouth, ready for anything aggressive. He kept talking, this time in a more manageable tone, "I have my verdict to your offer." I could feel every pair of eyes piercing me, every earth pony around me pointing their weapons, preparing to attack. I gulped, waiting. He took a deep breath. "I will personally kill you."

What, like that?! I stared him in the eyes, already planning every little step. I had to trip him somehow, crippling a leg would work well. I pressed my wings against my body, and my body started to shake when I noticed the revolver wasn't with me. Did I let it in my bedroom?! I couldn't remember, my mind racing against myself in that situation, the seconds slowly floating on their own agenda.

"If this offer of yours cripple my people in any way."

Maybe I could jump above his stallions and use one of them as a meat shield, using his own spear as a wea- Wait, "What?" It seemed that I wasn't the only one shocked by his words, as I could count at least three of his soldiers that couldn't hold their own spear in their mouths when their jaws dropped.

"My reasons were selfish, and you've proven your worth yesterday. I will follow your guidance, at least for now." He dropped his own head, instinctively staring at where the blade's hit him yesterday. "My people need more than able bodies. I am destined to glory, and fighting a futile war is the least of my worries right now."

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," I added. "Well, now that we're... partners, we need to discuss some things," It was funny how some of his ponies were completely fine with their leader's choice, while others were especially outraged, "but not now, as we need to hunt."

Stunner, who were lost in his own thoughts, woke up instantly. "W-what do you mean hunting?"

"We need eggs, simply as that."

The ghoul stood still for a second, laughing his lungs out after the realization. "You're fucking kidding me, right? They put you to hunt for eggs? Oh, good fucking luck, feathers, you're going to need it."

That was exactly what I wanted for him to say. "Oh, so the great and powerful Stunner is backing up from a simple task as collecting eggs?" I noticed half of Bonelord's stallions had already turned around and went back to their own city, especially those who expected pillaging.

"I-it's not like that, you motherfuckers. That fucking place is hell, and look who's saying it."

"You're afraid? I can't believe you are afraid of chickens!" I laughed loudly, Bonelord following me at mocking Stunner. Slowly, the ghoul was getting angrier and angrier, exactly what I had in mind.

"Fine, goddessesdamned it fine! But both of you are coming!"

I nodded positively, Bonelord gave a hearty laugh and added, "It will be an honor to hunt alongside both of you. Soldiers, go back to your families, we're settled here."

I was seriously doubting they weren't joking me. How could they be so easy to manipulate? Well, at least we would have our own private time to speak.

We were circling the boneyard, the chicken's nest probably was closer to the coast, which wasn't that far anyway. While we walked, I discussed with Bonelord about our relationship, setting goals and limits. We would be together, focusing in what each people knew better. They would hunt, we would help with the meal itself. Again, they would offer water.

I was radiant, smiling all my way to our objective still without an idea of where that would be, as Stunner guided both of us. Bonelord was incredibly strong to trot normally with that much scrap metal strapped to him, easily looking like he was at least twice his real size, with sharpened edges over his forelegs.

By request, I'd have to go to the Remnant's base, located in a city called Fetlockville southeast of Razor's Edge, closer to the old zebra's territory than most would be comfortable with. I've heard little about the city itself in my time above the clouds.

Fetlockville was a settlement that aimed to be 'Las Pegasus of East Coast', with luxury and wealth everywhere. While it had a lot of stadiums, one of the biggest theater house of Equestria and some beautiful and well-kept gardens, it failed to do as promised. Something like Las Pegasus doesn't start overnight, like they expected it would be. It was built while the whole nation was preparing for the war, and the ministries thought they could raise a huge profit from those investments. That's why the whole city was built around a geyser, its waters channeled to the huge Friendship Fountain, next to one of the ministries' buildings, but I couldn't remember which one it was.

Hell, I couldn't even remember what each ministry did.

It was actually a good idea to visit it, and to try to build a trade route with them. Razor's Edge, with its new addition, would really be better off with a big settlement protecting them.

"There, at the tower's base," Stunner interrupted my line of thought. When I looked at the general direction he pointed at, I could understand why he said that. The tower he spoke about was huge, a white solid pillar that rose above the cloud shroud of the pegasi. I recognized that immediately, "How could I never notice you're living right next to a Farm Tower?!"

"A what?" Both were pretty confused with what I said. I guessed it was because they've never seen through the shroud.

"Look, these towers are built everywhere, and the pegasi grows food around them, on the clouds." Sadly, I couldn't remember much else. "My mother used to call them that, and it kind of stuck. They're great point of reference for merchants, to know exactly where we're going."

"The pegasi? Holy cow, I never thought I'd hear that fucking name again." Stunner muttered. He noticed the way we looked at him and sighed, continuing. "Looks like it's time for a little exposition. I hate this shit."

"There used to be a lot of pegasi around these parts, y'know, two centuries ago. A little after the formation of the ministries, they've brought a fuck ton of ponies to this middle of nowhere and built a fucking tower. I was in that middle, though I couldn't get even close of that shit. Nopony answered our questions about what the towers were for, or what the Ministry of Awesome was supposed to fucking do."

I recalled a little bit about the Ministry of Awesome, exactly because they seemed to do nothing.

"I was one of the builders of the city from where your 'tribe' fucking kicked me out," he stared aggressively at Bonelord, who just shrugged, "and my job was to carry the heavy load for those wimpy bastards, alongside some other earth ponies and a huge carriage. Not two weeks went by after they'd finished the tower and the carriage was completely abandoned at its base.

"Over the course of weeks, and then months, they started discarding every piece of non-functional prototypes around that fucking tower, littering its surroundings with a huge pile of scrap metal. When they finally developed a functional airplane, they completely forgot about us. Since then, I've only saw one pegasus, which I'm sure you've seen her too."

I knew he was talking about Ditzy Doo, one of the most experienced merchants in the Wasteland. Still, she never let her fame surpass her humility, always helping settlements in need, sometimes with discounts, others giving away food and medicine. Because of that, sadly, she was one of the most sought ponies everywhere. A few decades back, some raiders captured her and cut off her tongue. Suddenly, I remembered something that bothered me.

"Bonelord, why did you ban Ditzy Doo?! Do you have any idea of how much she'd help us?"

I think that got him by surprise. "My predecessor did it, not me," he answered quickly, a little bit offended. "And she's not very fond of raiders."

That was something I had to agree with, but not completely. "You don't act like a raider."

"And this is one of the reasons I decided to listen to you, but that's not the time- Look, there's the entrance."

We were really close of another entrance into the scrap metal maze in the boneyard. It looked like a metallic cave, with rusty walls forming corridors, our steps echoing on the steel floor and our breath the only sound beyond that. I never thought a place like that would be so silent, only being interrupted by the sound of hoof against metal.

As we walked, a characteristic smell approached our nostrils, something I couldn't describe without using 'radiation' and 'death'. I sincerely hoped that this place wasn't actually contaminated, as the only one who would benefit of it would be Stunner. What worried me is that, with such closed environment, it was actually possible.

"We're finally getting to the center, don't make a fucking noise," Stunner whispered to both of us. I looked at Bonelord, with a huge metal armor, and we both shrugged. What would happen if we startled a bunch of chickens, anyway? They'd peck at us?

That's when I saw a dash of light at the end of the corridor. We walked around some crates and piles of rubble to where the sun shone. The chamber was bigger than I thought, between many other discarded vehicles.

"Look, it's close to the fucking carriage, the eggs are inside it," Stunner whispered again, as quiet as he could, pointing to the carriage's back. I could barely see them, the white spheres, calmly waiting for us. While we approached sneakily, the metal floor we were used to was replaced by fluffy dirt, back from before the war. I could hear breathing, though I couldn't see from where.

Each step closer was increasingly terrifying, as if eyes everywhere were staring us, observing every movement, felling every small drop of fear on us. I felt all my muscles lock when something touched me between my wings. I was completely paralyzed, and my sudden stop got both of their attention. "It's right behind me, r-right?"

They nodded. I gulped. Slowly, my face turned to the chicken who apparently pecked me from above. I immediately regretted it, as my first reaction was to scream something completely incoherent, startling both my allies and the fucking huge chicken that pecked me. It could easily swallow one of us alive, more than thirteen feet high and just as large. "Gah, fuck!" I rolled to my left, the huge chicken's beak close enough to mess up my feathers.

As the sneak approach went to hell, Bonelord tackled his enemy, as I seriously questioned his mental health. The chicken couldn't break his armor in one shot, though it hit him as he jumped at it, trying to kick its face. I reached for the revolver under my wing, just to wave my talon through the air as I remembered, again that I was unarmed.

"To hell with this, I'm tired of this fuckin' chicken!" Stunner bit under his neck, pulling a sawed-off shotgun from under himself - only a madpony like him would maintain a loaded shotgun pointing to his crotch - and ran against the chicken. It cackled and tackled him, throwing both him and Bonelord against a wall with a quick snap of its neck.

I scrambled through the walls, trying to find anything that I could use as a makeshift weapon to no avail, as I felt the chicken's eyes focusing on me again. It opened its wings and rushed at me. In that situation, I did the only thing a sane pony wouldn't do, diving between its legs, luckily not getting trampled. The chicken couldn't stop in time, hitting its head against the scrap metal wall and getting its beak stuck. When I got up, a metal bar that got loose with the attack rolled on my paws.

Stunner got up, angrily swearing against the chicken, and climbed one of the carcasses. From there, he could give it a good shot, if he wasn't using such a inaccurate weapon. "Fuck, I need to get closer!"

I picked up the metal bar as fast as I could and rushed against the chicken, which freed itself and hit me with one of its wings, throwing me against the carcass Stunner stood on. I screamed of pain when I felt my wing pull again, immobilizing me after the recurring injury.

I didn't even notice when Bonelord sneaked behind our giant enemy and gave it a kick behind both legs, drawing a roaring cackle from its beak and forcing it to move forward, where I stood and Stunner waited. With a maniac grin, the ghoul threw himself on the animal's back. Startled, it ran in circles while beating its wings and cackling, a cacophony that lost itself as quickly as Stunner could point the sawed-off to its back and pull the trigger.

I tried to get up, forcing my body against the agony I felt on my wing, a ghoul being tossed like a ragdoll from above the chicken's torso when it finally reached him with its beak. The shot had hurt it, but it wasn't enough to incapacitate. I had to do something, and fast.

Bonelord again gave his battle cry and tackled the chicken, pulling a knife from his foreleg and jumping under its wing. I could hear his attacks' effect through the chicken's cries, opening and closing its wings as quickly as it could to pull the hulking mass of pony out of there.

I dragged myself above the pile of rubble, a tear rolling from my left eye. Reaching its summit, I took a huge chunk of metal from the bar's tip, cutting my talon in the process as I didn't have an actual support to cut it as I did against Bonelord. Still, I ignored the pain.

I took a deep breath, holding the makeshift spear in both talons, blood dripping from the metal bar. The chicken was running tired, with its wounds exhausting it. Stunner was getting up, Bonelord finally was pulled from the chicken's ribs, his face covered in blood and knife still in mouth, smiling exactly like I would expect from a raider.

I amassed as much strength as I could muster, and yelled, "Look up, featherbrains!"

I took the leap, my wings open behind me. Spear in my hand, my face showing my determination, my eyes burning in rage. I had to withstand the pain. A wing beat, as I felt my wing would rip apart, and I closed the distance between us.

I drove my spear as far as I could into its neck, using my own body as leverage to make the chicken fall. Blood leaked from the wound, staining my fur and my feathers. It dropped slowly, a huge mass succumbing to its own weight. As it hit the ground, the spear was pushed back, and I could easily retrieve it. Again, I grabbed it with both my talons, pulling it. My blood flowed on the shaft, mixing with the chicken's. I leapt again, driving the spearhead far into it's temple, giving it a twist.

Slowly, the chicken stopped bleeding and twitching, and I was completely exhausted.

"Bird of prey, once again you've proven your worth against this mighty enemy!" Bonelord trotted to the chicken's body, where I stood, shaking. I actually felt cold in there, I don't know if it was because of the blood that drenched my clothes and feathers, or because of the pain I've felt.

I tried my best to speak, though the words were nearly inaudible, "Just take the fucking eggs and take me back..."

And, standing there, with spear in talons, I blacked out.