A Western Tail

My sleep was undisturbed and I came around peacefully. As my vision returned I found myself resting upon a fine bed with a beautiful blanket atop of me. I went to move then winced in pain as my lower gut seemed to burn.

I let out a small gasp of pain and slowly lifted the blanket off my body. I was in a different attire of clothing than I was wearing when I had been shot. I had silky pants and a fine dress on yet there was no blood on either of these pieces of clothing.

I lifted the dress from the bottom and gazed upon my bare stomach area. Some-pony had wrapped my wound in medical bandage. I could see a stain of blood coming through but it wasn’t fresh, maybe a day old.

I groaned in pain as I lay back down, unable to get up from the searing pain in my gut from where I had been shot. I fluffed the dress and made sure to cover myself again. I may be bed-ridden but a mare must appear decent.

I pulled the blanket off my body, it was rather warm in the room and there was no need for the piece of bedding to cover me. I sighed as I gently rested my right hoof on my wound area and let out a slow breath.

My thoughts soon turned to what was happening. I doubt I was dead so the thought in mind was ‘How am I alive?’ I had heard some-pony talking, so maybe they saved me but then the question was ‘Why? Why would he or she save my life? Out of the goodness of their heart or did they want something from me?’

I pondered the question for what seemed like hours. My thoughts ended up usually going in circles. Eventually I discarded the thoughts and found myself looking at the light brown ceiling. The house, from the looks of things, was made of timber, I think. There was a nice aroma in the air that smelt like roses. The room was lit by an overhanging lamp that managed to give the room a dim lighting.

I once again tried to get up but found myself grimacing in pain and had to lie back down. As I settled, a stronger pain surged through me and I couldn’t help but to cry out in pain.

The door opened and a lone figure stood there. I looked over to see a young stallion standing in the doorway. He was tall, maybe six inches taller than me, and looked to be on the stronger side of things.

His fur was a dark shade of brown yet his hair was a silky blond. His eyes were a medium blue that seemed to shine in the light. He had a bit of stubble around the side of his face and chin. He wore a dark brown duster coat which drooped and flapped about as he slowly paced over to me with a tray of what smelt like tea.

He pulled up a wooden chair beside the bed then set the tray on a nightstand which stood beside the bed. He took the silver teapot and poured a portion of the contents into a small teacup. Steam wisped from the spout of the pot and the cup as he poured then finally stopped and set the pot back down.

Ever so gracefully he picked up the cup in both hooves and offered it to me. I slowly extended my own hooves and accepted the offer, taking the cup into my palms carefully. He didn’t say a word. He just sat there and watched me intently as I gently blew the hot tea to cool it down before slowly taking a sip.

I took the cup away from my lips and gave a faint smile then an appreciative nod. “Mmm… it’s good… thank you.” I whispered softly, so softly that I almost couldn’t hear myself. He simply nodded without saying anything.

I let out a small breath then took another sip of tea, this time savouring the taste. It tasted like camomile or maybe some other sort of herbal green tea. I once again took the teacup away from my lips which were now wet from the beverage.

“Am I dead?” I asked quietly but he shook his head. “How did I… did you… save me?” he nodded. “Don’t talk much huh?” but his reply took me off guard.

“I do talk” he replied. His voice was quiet, with a lower undertone but timid and seemingly shy. Something about his voice put me at ease.

I sat there and sipped tea for the next half hour before finally setting the teacup down on the tray. “Thank you” I whispered again and he nodded, gulped and then picked up the tea tray and left.

As he shut the door I managed to sneak a peek past the doorway. I could see through the window in what looked to be a living room. I noticed that it was dark outside, probably nighttime or very early morning. The room I was in had no windows and its only light source was the lantern.

I soon found myself extremely tired and quickly fell back to sleep.

My dreams were haunted however, by that of Black Mane. The memory of him shooting me played again and again. As the horrid nightmare went on it seemed like things got cold, my body shivered and my teeth chattered. Each time Black Mane would shoot me it would be a blessing. My coldness would be subdued but only for so long before the nightmare would return.

Several times in during my rest I would awake suddenly but only briefly. My body would be drenched in sweat and it would have dampened my fur and become cold. My body was shaking every time and my breath would be raspy and coarse.

I didn’t know which was better: the nightmares or real life.

* * *

I finally woke up and managed to stay up for a little longer than I had all the times before, minus the one time that I drank the tea. My body was dry and warm. The blanket had been placed over my body again and helped to keep me warm. It was summer time yet somehow I had managed to become cold.

I unravelled the blanket slightly only to find myself in a different dress. This one differed from the other only in colour. This one was orange in colour but looked almost identical to the last.

I took hold of the dress bottom and pulled up the lower folds. The medical bandages had been changed and these ones no longer had blood stains in them. I pushed the dress folds back down then rested my head against the plush pillow.

I tried to swallow but found that my throat was dry and sticky. I could barely even swallow my own saliva and found it difficult to talk. I grimaced in pain as I forced myself to get up.

I managed to get myself out of bed, though painfully. I needed water so badly. My lips were dry and it felt like they were cracking. My eyes suddenly felt heavy and blood rushed to my head as I began to stumble across the floor and towards the door.

I contemplated lying back down but I needed water. I needed water more than anything I had ever needed before.

I managed to reach the door and by this time my head began to throb. Why was this happening? I had been shot before and never had things turned out like this. My vision started to blur as I opened the door. The hinged creaked in report and I swung open the door rather slowly.

My head swayed back and forth as I staggered into what looked like the living quarters of the home. The stallion whom had given me the tea looked over to me and immediately rushed over to me just as my legs gave out. He caught my limp body in his forelegs and that was the last thing I remembered.

* * *

I didn’t know how long I was out for but the next time I awoke, it was peaceful. I felt a soft and graceful hoof trailing through my mane and it would sometimes gently caress the side of my face.

I let out small tired moans as I ever so slowly came around. The first thing I saw was the stallion, the one who had given me the tea and who had also saved my life. My vision finally tuned itself in and everything became crystal clear.

I no longer felt sick, for whatever reason I did, and my body no longer felt dehydrated. He continued to stroke his left hoof through my mane like an attentive parent as he held his right foreleg underneath my body, keeping my upper body somewhat levitated. My head rested on his right shoulder which felt almost as nice as the pillow I had slept on.

My gut no longer felt painful either, at least not for the moment. I tried to think of something to say but couldn’t think of anything. He brought up a small cup of tea that smelt like tea he had given me before. “Drink… it’s good for you” he informed me as he brought the cup to my lips.

He held the cup with perfect steadiness and I drank slowly until the entire cup of tea was gone. As he took the cup away from my mouth I managed to whisper “Thank-you.” Though my body felt better I was still a little disoriented but was still puzzled by the question of why I was so beat up. I had never fallen ill after being shot before.

I looked up into his glistening eyes. “What happened?” I asked but he didn’t answer right away. Instead he continued to cradle me and stroke his hoof through my mane. Generally I wouldn’t let a stallion hold me like this but right now it was kind of soothing, considering everything that just happened.

“You had a bad fever… from those thistles. You should be more careful. Had I not been there then you probably would’ve died” he told me calmly. I gulped. I guess I really wasn’t paying attention but now that I thought about it those thistle plants were Death Thistles. The tips of their thorns were barbed and spiked with toxins. Usually a pony would have a few hours to get treated but I suppose with my heart rate the way it was and with me digging for so long it really cut that time short.

I simply lay there, in his embrace, for the next hour in total silence. Finally he broke the silence. “Tomorrow you will be rested up enough to walk. I’ll get you to Ponyville. It’s a newly formed rural town but you’ll be able to talk to their local doctor, Doctor Heart Hooves.” He told me and I nodded.

“Why… why did you save me?” but the answer I got wasn’t one I was expecting.

“I was following Black Mane. He’s a wanted criminal in these parts and I was going to bring him to justice until he shot you. I could’ve apprehended him but you would’ve died. I made the better choice” he told me. My heart sank. Thanks to me, a notorious criminal was still on the loose.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I whispered, not really piecing my sentence together very well.

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. The choice I made was a very easy one.” He replied calmly, not even hinting a slight bit of irritation.

I started to doze off and rolled my head into his neck then passed out. My dreams, thankfully, weren’t haunted or cold. I slept peacefully and my body felt rejuvenated for the first time ever.

* * *

I awoke naturally and again proceeded to unravel the blanket and lift my dress. There were no medical bandages but I could see where I had been shot. It would be just another scar I would have to live with. Scars were no stranger to me, I had more scars then I cared to count. Luckily they were mostly in spots that were covered by my clothes and in turn I didn’t look hideous.

I noticed that this was yet another dress and that I now had different pants on. These weren’t silk but a linen fabric of sort. I proceeded to get out of bed. My stomach no longer hurt but my body wasn’t exactly used to moving so I had to take things rather slowly at first.

I slowly made my way to the door and placed my hoof on the handle as I took a deep breath. I opened the door and proceeded into the next room. Everything looked different without the blur from deathly illness inhibiting my vision.

By a dining table sat the stallion who had rescued me. I slowly trotted over to him and sat across from him. I wasn’t sure why but my mind quickly raced to whose dresses these were.

“Who do they belong to? The dresses?” I asked and he sighed.

“Bought them in town after I saved you. Your old clothes were bloody and needed to be washed.” He replied. I looked down to the clothes. Why had he spent money on clothes for me? Couldn’t he have just given me some of his clothes?

“You… dressed me” I replied uneasily, knowing he would’ve had to see my body without clothes to have dressed me like he had.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t look more then I had to. I had to change your clothes, you had a fever and sweat accumulated then quickly became cold. You needed a change of clothes every day.” He informed me. Generally I wouldn’t like a stallion dressing me while I was unconscious but he seemed to know what needed to be done and didn’t strike me as perverse.

“Thank you” I whispered and he nodded. He offered me a cool glass of water which I hastily accepted and downed quickly. I could feel the cool water trickle down my throat which felt better than anything I had ever felt before, due to my lack of water over the last little while. He seemed to be very soft-spoken and didn’t strike me as the one who talked much.

My mind suddenly began to think of who he was. “What’s your name? I’m Daring Do.” I asked, introducing myself at the same time. He nodded but sat in silence for a moment before replying to my question.

“I… I don’t have one. But it’s nice to meet you Ms. Do.” He replied and I snickered.

“Oh come on… you have to have a name.” I said, poking into what his name was but not expecting to get the answer he gave.

“I was an orphan as a foal. I grew up without a name. Every-pony who knows me, knows me as ‘The Lone Ranger’” he informed me. My heart sank. I hadn’t meant to bring up what seemed to be hard memories for him.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to bring it up.” I apologized and he simply nodded. I think that meant he forgave me but I wasn’t sure. “Well… do you mind if I call you John? I always liked the name John.” I asked and he shrugged.

He stood up. “Come on. You need to get dressed.” He informed me. Dressed? I already was dressed. I guess he meant get dressed into my old clothes. He led me back to the room, handed me what I guessed were my old clothes and then left me in privacy.

I slipped off all the clothes I currently wore. The air seemed to blow gently against my bare body, sending shivers of sensation across my entire body. Usually it would be natural but after always wearing clothes it felt strange to be bare. I slipped on my old adventuring clothes which no longer smelt foul but rather pleasant.

He had also included my revolver and holster among the pile of clothes which I slipped on as well. It felt good getting back into my old clothes, even if those dresses were comfortable.

I wondered to myself how much he had spent on the dresses. I soon discarded the thought and left the room. He stood by the table, obviously ready to leave. He had two twin revolvers in hip holsters. Both were Colt SAA and were probably 45LC like mine. Slung Across his back was what looked to be a 1878 Colt double barrel 12guage but with a heavier more sturdy barrel look to it. Probably a newer model meant to fire smokeless powder.

He wore the brown duster coat I had seen him wear when he first fed me tea but now also sported a bandolier filled with red shotgun shells and some long rifle cartridges. I caught a peak of the grip from an auto loading pistol hidden behind the chest of the coat but he moved the flaps of his coat over the gun before I could get a better look.

He nodded to me. “Come on, the carriage is waiting.” he told me then led me out of the house.