An hour of walking had left the dilapidated buildings and rubble-strewn cobble behind them, houses and businesses replaced instead with long neglected farmland dotted with the occasional shed or farmhouse. The pair of travelers were quiet, the only sound made being soft footfalls and hoofsteps against untended ground and the rustle of brambles and weeds clawing vainly for purchase in either cloth or fur.

“At least something’s growing here,” Finders Keepers mumbled bitterly, kicking a leg free from a bush’s constrictive hold. She shot a glance behind her to see how her companion — for that’s what he was at this point, no point denying it — was faring, and saw that he too was slowed by the flora, a very pony-like scowl etched across his face as he waded his way forward.

She took a moment to examine the creature — the human — that called itself Kiako Lalene. Over twice her height and broad in the shoulders, his whole anatomy screamed wrong whenever she really paid attention to it, from the way his legs bent when walking, the many spindly appendages at the ends of his arms, and even his almost-flat face with his beady eyes that were far smaller than any pony’s.

All of that was strange, very much so, but the one thing that weirded her out the most was the fact that his skin was bare, covered by neither fur nor feathers. Indeed, the only parts of his peaches-and-cream complexion that were covered by fur were the flat-top manestyle and a pair of eyebrows covering the bony ridges over his eyes.

“You’re staring again,” Kiako commented, irritation bleeding into his smooth baritone voice, the barest traces of some sort of accent hanging off the words. His face was still locked into that stern, humorless expression of someone who took life far too seriously, his brow set low and staring at her with eyes that looked out at the world with suspicion.

“Just waiting for you to catch up,” she replied casually, not entirely a lie. She turned to look forward, gesturing ahead with a metal-shod hoof. “If we keep going we’ll eventually hit the Galloping Gorge rail line, and then we follow that until we hit Smokey Mountain Valley.”

“Anything specific about this place that I should know about?” the man asked, steadily making progress through the undergrowth, the fabric portions of his barding doing an excellent job at catching any stray branches.

“Just that if we keep moving, we’ll get there in a couple days,” she replied, wincing as a branch whipped past her face and scraped against the leather hood of her barding.

“I’m sure that most of that time will be spent in this field,” Kiako joked bitterly, an arm sweeping out dramatically to emphasize the sea of green that they still had to get through.

The mare’s ear flicked in agreement for her, and it was just as well too. She was young and in her prime, but this field was definitely something else, every step a struggle to not to get tangled or trip. It was enough of a chore without having to focus on a conversation as well, and she was quietly grateful for the fact that the biped didn’t seem interested in talking right then.

If what Saber Squad said was true about holding down this town for future settler-ponies, well, they were welcome to have it. At least this field will keep them busy for a bit, she mused spitefully.

*** *** ***

Kiako sat at the base of an earthen embankment, the sun having sunk low enough on the horizon that every shadow cast was long and thin. Night was coming, but for now the sky was bathed in the soft, warm hues of dying light, soon to fade as the moon rose up from the opposite horizon.

Travel had been made much smoother once they had escaped from that hellish field, the rolling grasslands surrounding Haybale being altogether more preferable, with only the occasional tree or rusted-out hulk marring the landscape. It was almost unsettling how unmolested they had been during their journey, the only wildlife seen being the occasional flock of birds or the ever-present chirping of insects.

When they finally stopped to rest for the day Kiako was just about ready to collapse, the steady pace he had been managing earlier that day having degenerated into something approaching a limp. The explosion he’d been caught in days earlier hadn’t left him entirely unscathed; the steel bracing that formed part of the passive exoskeleton he wore was warped, irreparably damaged. Instead of putting two-thirds of the weight of his equipment into the ground, that leg was bound to a brace that refused to move as fluid as it should have.

Finders Keepers, his equinoid guide — or pony, as they apparently called themselves — hadn’t been oblivious to his growing discomfort during their travels, even offering several rest stops. Pride alone had stopped him from accepting most of those admittedly generous offers, the only one being under the guise having a late lunch where they both had eaten ravenously from their own packs. Even that short reprieve wasn’t enough, and now he was paying for it: the cramping in his leg and occasional muscle spasms were proof enough of that.

Still, it was just as well that he had decided to bear the pain and keep moving. The embankment alone was a good find as it would give them some cover, both from the wind and any prying eyes. Most serendipitous though was that a small brook ran along the embankment a couple of meters away, and if he was truly fortunate it would even be drinkable.

A short, excited whinny from nearby jolted him alert from his exhausted state, eyes going wide as his head swivelled in search of the horse-borne bandits that his mind unhelpfully conjured up for him. His alarm came to an abrupt, embarrassing halt as a beige coated, gear laden pony came into his view.

“I was just about out, too!” Finders Keepers cried out happily as she trotted her way over to the brook and, to his surprise, drank directly from the water with not even the laziest attempt at checking its drinkability.

Exhausted and as dehydrated as he probably was, he still had his mental faculties about him to not give in to the impulse of drinking from a tainted water source. Then again, death is only temporary he contemplated, the faintest of smiles playing across his face before forcing the thought out of his mind. He had a safer approach.

“Since you’re so eager to try the water,” he began, only a touch of humor in his voice as he reached for his backpack to pull off his empty canteen, “why don’t we take a more scientific analysis of the water purity?”

A lone ear twitched as he started speaking, the owner lifting her head up from the brook to stare at him, hazel eyes staring out at him from beneath a leather hood. The man raised the object and tossed it underhand over to her, only realizing the moment it left his fingertips that, no, horses can’t catch things.

He couldn’t help but blink in surprise, self-reproachment short-lived as the equinoid casually caught the cap-end of the canteen in her mouth, delicately clenched between rows of disconcertingly human-looking teeth.

“How i’f filling up y’ur wa’fer going to help wi’f ’at?” Finders Keepers asked, more or less intelligible despite speaking around the container, her gaze questioning. She spat the container from her mouth, letting it balance precariously on the edge of her hoof. “Huh. This looks new.”

It took Kiako a brief second to recover his wits, Finders Keepers’ ability to effortlessly catch the canteen being a being a bit of a surprise.

“Yes, it is,” Kiako bit out, his agitation bleeding into his voice. He took a calm breath, closing his eyes a moment as he reined in his frustration, swallowing uncomfortably as he composed himself. Reaching into one of the smaller pouches on his belt he came up with a folded slip of chemically treated paper, holding it up to show the pony.

“This is a water field-test kit,” he explained calmly, unfolding the paper and running a finger along the colored boxes with chemical symbols imprinted on the surface. “When these areas come into contact with a specific chemical they change hue; the darker the color the more contamination there is. Quite simple, really. There’s a reason they mass-produce these.”

Finders Keepers just stared at him, her lips and eyes betraying her mirth long before she did as she tried not to laugh. When she finally did, it was not the mocking, scornful laughter he was expecting but instead something warm, almost gentle in a way. Kiako simply bore it, giving her a flat stare as the laughter slowly wound down into a giggle before ending with an amused snort.

“Is there something you would like to share with me?” the man finally asked, his voice carrying very much the same tone that a teacher might use if he had caught a student passing notes.

The pony let out a breathy sigh as her head dropped to look at the ground, a faint smile still played across her face as she looked at him, voice a touch wistful. “I was just thinking, about how useful those would have been when I was still a filly. Purified water was always expensive and sometimes we couldn’t afford it.”

“That does seem to be a common problem,” he observed dryly, though not entirely without sympathy. When he had first set out beyond Zanesville, into the arid Plateau region of the Canyon, reliable water sources had been a problem for him. One particular death was quite memorable to him, if only due to the agonizing and slow nature of it; suffice to say he paid much more attention to where he got his water from, and made sure to set enough chips aside for it.

“Still, you seem to have done well enough for yourself despite the setbacks,” he said, and gestured to the mare, examining her critically for a moment. “What are you now, eight, ten years of age?”

Apparently what he said had amused Finders Keepers, for his question was met with startled, coarse laughter that grated on his sense dignity all too fast. He was beginning to wonder if his dignity would even be intact by the time he managed to get in contact with someone in the Province.

“You really aren’t from around here,” the pony said once her brief bout of laughter had died down, looking at him curiously in a way that he hadn’t seen before. “I’m still not sure where you’re from, but it’s obvious you don’t have many ponies there.”

“More than you’d think,” he said wryly, which earned him an eye raising. He didn’t elaborate, finding petty solace in being vague. He certainly wasn’t going to explain what horses were; opening that can of worms wouldn’t benefit either of them, especially not him. Like it or not he still needed her, to lead him to some sort of civilization, no matter how much of a mockery of the past it may have been.

“Tell me then, how old are you?” he asked conversationally, returning to his earlier question. “You can’t be too old, you sound—”

“Like not a nag?” the pony interrupted, a smirk playing across her muzzle. “I turned twenty last winter.”

It was his turn to raise an eye, hearing the pony’s age. Despite the fact that automobiles were starting to become more and common, horses and other equids were still an indispensable part of life. Scouts covered vast swathes of land with the help of horses, farmers used them to help plow or tow, and the Franklin Riders rode from town to town to deliver the mail.

He himself was fairly well versed in equestrianism, having rode them often enough that it was impossible not to pick up a few things. One particular bit of knowledge that came to mind was that horses typically only lived for about twenty-five to thirty years, and that was being generous. He didn’t think Finders Keepers was lying, but it did raise more questions than it answered.

“How old can ponies get to be?” Kiako inquired, unable to keep his interest from leaking into his voice.

“I’m starting to think this is getting a little one-sided, how about you tell me how old you are?” Finders Keepers asked as she scooped up his canteen in her teeth, trotting over to the brook and dunking it in.

“Thirty-three,” Kiako answered plainly. The lie came easily enough, more so than it would have if he had been a few years younger. Like any skill, lying was something that had to be developed through years of practice, and for the most part that training started well before a child had learned to speak.

Most nine-year olds were far better liars than he had been when he first came out of the pod in Zanesville, unless they were particularly slow. Now that he was at that age himself, he was confident that he’d caught up.

The best lies hold an element of truth. It was an old adage, one of the more useful ones in fact. Lies of omission were still lies, but they were easier to take at face value. His body was indeed thirty-three years old, as any blood test would show.

“Huh. I thought you’d be older,” the pony admitted, coming back with his canteen full of water. Once again her words came out clear and concise, despite the canteen hanging from her teeth.

“And why is that?” he asked, accepting the canteen with a small nod of thanks. He gathered some grass from next to him and began wiping down wherever he thought her mouth had touched, which elicited huff of annoyance from the pony.

She simply gave what looked to him almost like a shrug, head slightly to the side as she raised her brows at him, lips slightly pursed as her head bobbed a bit. “I guess you just kinda give off that vibe.”

“I’m not entirely sure how to feel about being assumed old,” he mused aloud. He’d met plenty of older people during his travels, but he couldn’t imagine himself becoming one of them. Every death for him was a renewal, body and mind capable as they ever were. It was safe to say the thought of growing old didn’t appeal to him.

“I’ll go get some firewood, you have fun with that,” Finders Keepers said with a titter, nudging her chin over to his canteen. “Tell me how it goes.”

Kiako watched the pony leave, not saying anything. It was clear to him that she knew something he didn’t, but he didn’t think she to be actively malicious in her intent. Regardless, he did need to test the water purity, and with the pony temporarily away there would be no distractions.

It was an uninteresting process, more or less simply dunking the strips of paper into a still source of water before removing them for drying and inspection. If the tested contaminant was present in dangerous quantities then the color on the strips would be of a dark hue. The man even did this several times, to be doubly certain.

Brow stitched into a frown, he tossed the paper strips away, letting them flutter onto the grass like falling leaves. Some of them landed face up, some face down, but each and every one of them were as pristine as they had been since they had been taken out. No heavy metals. No harmful bacteria. No contaminants.

The water was as good as any he’d tasted, pure and refreshing as he drank greedily from the canteen, letting its contents soothe his parched throat and dribble from his lips and down his neck. Not even his collar protested his choice of drinking from what should have been a hazardous water source, the warning tingle of radiation entirely absent.

It was only through conscious restraint that he didn’t dunk his head into the brook, instead taking his time to fill up his canteen to take more moderate sips. If he were alone he’d be more than happy to peel off his armor and scrub himself down, feeling grimy after several days without bathing. Perhaps if he were alone and in familiar territory he might, but with neither of those being the case he simply settled for splashing some water up into his face.

The sound of shodden footfalls heralded Finders Keepers return, and Kiako turned to see that she had indeed found some firewood. Several withered branches were balanced precariously on her back, and a couple sticks and what looked to be a clump of dry looking moss were clenched firmly between her teeth.

He refilled his canteen before joining her by where she’d set down the branches and kindling, likely where they’d be bedding down for the night. It took him a moment to actually sit down though, having to give an exaggerated flex to his knee just to force past the resistance the damaged armature was gave him.

“You’ve been slow all day, leg still bothering you?” the pony asked, clearly noticing his difficulty, a slight touch of concern in her voice accompanying the questioning look she gave him.

“The explosion we were caught in damaged some of my equipment,” he replied, running a hand along his leg. “These metal struts are warped now, and don’t move as I do.”

“And you couldn’t just remove the doohickey earlier? Or whatever it is.”

“It makes things lighter, put simply. I’m sure even you could appreciate that,” He answered, already beginning to unstrap the metal from his legs.

She was quiet for a while, and the man was content with that. He was more interested in removing his handicap at the moment than making small-talk, something that everyone else seemed to excel at.

“You know,” Finders Keepers started, an obvious edge of warning in her tone that grabbed the man’s attention back to her again, “where we’re going you can’t keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” he asked, raising a brow. What is she on about now?

Her eyes narrowed, a small frown forming on her muzzle. Horses were very expressive animals once one got to know them, and these ponies were that and then some. He could read her annoyance just by her ears alone, not even needing to look at the more obvious signs.

“You know what,” she growled out, clear agitation seeping into her voice. “Being rude, and insulting ponies who are trying to help you, who have helped you! That attitude of yours is gonna get you shot someday, and I don’t wanna be around when it does, not after all the trouble you’ve put me through!”

Kiako took his chastisement stoically, not batting an eye as he listened to the frustrated mare. The outward facade belied his own growing agitation with the mare, his jaw setting as he continued to be berated by the pony, this uplift. Who was she to lecture him, in anything?

Still, he managed to keep the lid on his temper, settling for glaring rather than opening his mouth to let loose the hateful stream of words that sat at the forefront of his mind, just begging to be spoken aloud to the world.

“Are you done now?” he managed evenly, hands sitting by his side having curled up into fists in lieu of working to remove the braces from his legs.

Finders Keepers stared at him hatefully, teeth grinding and knotted tail swishing behind her in a clear, unbridled expression of her anger. The man didn’t flinch from her gaze, glaring right on back at her with a more-or-less apathetic expression on his face.

He caught the momentary flick of her eyes glancing down toward his thigh, the one where his revolver sat in its holster. His own moved over to the stubby and battered weapon that had been given to her by Statchel, now currently hung from a chord around the mare’s neck. Almost imperceptible, he managed to notice the muscles tensing up under the pony’s coat, as though on the edge of making a sudden movement.

Neither of them spoke to one another for some time, the growing silence between them having a palpable air of hostility that would have been clear to anyone had they not been alone. The man didn’t know how long they had been staring, but as time went on his anger was joined by something else, the niggling sensation of doubt creeping into conscious thought and planting their hooks into him.

“Are we ready to do this again?” Kiako asked cautiously, his own body tensing up as the words were spoken. His right hand slowly uncurled from the fist it had been making previously, the man eyeing the mare carefully.

“Your gun didn’t work last time,” the pony pointed out, the bravado in her voice having a ring of falseness to it that he was sure even she noticed.

He felt compelled to tell her that that had changed, but something in the back of his mind stopped him from opening his mouth. Perhaps it was the doubt growing in him, or maybe it was his imperfect survival instincts kicking in. He knew how flexible the pony’s neck was, and remembered the stand-off they had been in only days before. If this went on, he knew there would be no serendipity to prevent a shootout.

Being killed would have been unfortunate to say the least. He was lost, assuredly, but he was lost in a place that to his knowledge had yet to be seen by human eyes in a very, very long time. The presence of fresh, above-ground water alone was worth a good deal of chips, and the landscape seemed almost untouched by trials put upon it by the Fall that had left the Grand Canyon uninhabitable in some places.

He thought himself a reasonable man, but even as he weighed his options he found it difficult to go against the grain, to ignore the voice of pride that told him to stand his ground and admit no faults.

Pragmatism weighed heavier in his mind than pride though, this time. With an almost conscious force of will he relented, fingers outstretched by his sides as he forced his body to relax, eyes intentionally averting away from the pony in a show of submission that he was certain the equid-like being could understand. The only thing I have to lose is my pride, he thought bitterly.

“I believe we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Kiako admitted, the sincerity in his voice carrying a hollow ring.

From the corner of his eyes he could see that Finders Keepers agreed, if not with words then by the way her body deflated with an unrestrained sigh of relief, the mare dropping down to her haunches as all tension seemed to flow out of her.

He didn’t know the pony all that well, and in fact knew almost nothing about her. Amidst the strangeness of the past couple of days he had found himself in a scuffle with not one, but two different types of uplifted beings, each more peculiar than the last. Rosewing was quick to violence — he still had the bandages under his armor to prove that — and seemed all too ready to brawl with strangers. Finders Keepers on the other hand fought only in self-defense or if pushed, at least from his recent experiences.

Seeing her drop her guard so suddenly and so recklessly, despite what had nearly happened, comforted him in a way. The mare seemed far quicker to forgive — or at least back down temporarily — than he would have ever been, and in some ways he couldn’t help but admire that. It made working with others so much easier when they were willing to make concessions, a thing he himself was loathe to ever do.

The gentle slope of the embankment was cool against the back of his head, blades of grass tickling at his ears as he stared up at the dimming sky, dull clouds drifting off to no doubt unfamiliar places. The trials of the day were finally starting to catch up with him, eyes growing heavy as exhaustion set in like a sudden fog on a cold morning.

Soon enough he stopped thinking entirely, the last thing he saw being the first pinpricks of starlight fading into the night sky before finally closing his eyes and drifting off to fitful sleep.

*** *** ***

To say Finders Keepers was angry was like saying that the winter rains were cold and wet; it was true enough, but it didn’t really express what she felt after the little showdown she just had with that absolute jerk!

She had thought the creature’s attitude had been bad before, back before they’d been caught up in that explosion in Haybale. At least then she hadn’t had to actually know what was being said to her, but now that this human suddenly knew how to talk he seemed to be taking every opportunity to be rude and belittling. Tartarus, she seethed, I can’t believe I was actually thinking of shooting him and being done with all this, but somehow that mule managed to get me to sink that low!.

She couldn’t help but let out a disgruntled groan as she walked away from the passed-out human, ignoring the dark yet oh so tempting voice in the back of her mind that was telling her to pick up her gear and just leave him there. She might have done it too, if not for how dark it was going to get, or how tired she was after everything she’d been through. Still, awful as the man was, and as much as she wanted to buck his stupid, weird face in, she still felt as though she should at least bear it until they got to Stableside. At least then she could wipe her hooves of him and still have a clean conscience.

What would the Princesses do, she wondered, a small smile playing over her muzzle as she thought of what one of them might do. Like many ponies she was firm in her belief that the Princesses had ascended to Goddesshood, having to leave their corporeal forms to watch over Equestria even as it was consumed by the Zebras’ balefire megaspells. Despite what the pegasi claimed, the moon and sun still being set on their course after two-centuries was proof enough of the Princesses’ divinity.

Even so she didn’t think prayer was going to be all that helpful to her. For the time being she just wanted to be away from what seemed to be the source of her problems, and she continued to walk for some distance to find a spot to settle down. Unfortunately for her these parts of the Equestrian Wasteland weren’t all the populated, even Pre-War, meaning that unless she wanted to make some sort of hole in the ground to sleep in, the best she was going to get was near this embankment.

With a disappointed sigh she settled down on a grassy spot, no sign of rocks that would poke her into her during her sleep. If it weren’t as dark as it was she likely would have dug a small trench to lie in, but by this point it was far too late for that, and instead she simply settled for laying down against the grass, not even bothering to make another fire-pit.

Head resting against the shallow slope of the embankment she fought to get into a comfortable position, finally settling into something that for the moment was fine but was sure to make her regret the decision in the morning. That was future-Finders Keepers’ problem and for now she was content to just close her eyes and take in the rich, bucolic scents of the land and air around her.

It was a cool, quiet night, one of her ears perked up to the sounds of chirping insects and the soft rustling of wind blowing across the plains of grass all around her. Listening to the ever-present noises soothed her as much as any lullaby, a deep feeling of tranquility flowing into her as she nestled into the cool soil. Despite all of her troubles lately, nights like these never failed to remove the day’s worries from her mind, and she could truthfully say that at that moment she was truly at ease.

Untroubled by life, she gently drifted off with the thoughts of friends, family, and happy times at the forefront of her mind, a soft smile on her lips before finally being consigned to the oblivion of sleep.

*** *** ***

Sometime during the night the sun had switched places from west to east, its rays filtering over the horizon and breaking over the embankment to illuminate everything in its dull light. With darkness fading, so too were the comforting sounds that came with it, to be replaced by the early morning stillness that declared it to be a brand new day. Unfortunately for her, Finders Keepers wasn’t one to greet the sun with a cheerful smile and a bit of pep in her step. Quite the opposite, actually.

Sprawled uncomfortably on the ground, her blanket somehow making its way a good dozen hoofs away from her during the course of the night, the groggy pony found herself cursing past-Finders Keepers for picking such a good spot to sleep that night. With not even her blanket close enough for the excuse of catching a few more winks, she resigned herself with a sigh to actually trying to get up early for once.

Smacking her lips and feeling as though something had crawled inside her mouth and died in it, she lazily craned her neck to nibble on some grass. The grass wasn’t very good being raw and right out of the ground, but at the very least it served to fend off her morning-mouth and to help wake her up. Chewing slowly as the little ponies in her mind dusted the cobwebs off her faculties, she was working up the courage to actually get up despite the fact that two of her legs were tingling and would no doubt buzz with pain should she try and move them.

A couple of minutes and a few stretches later and she was as good as new, at least physically. The morning haze of having just woken up still hung over her mind, and she found herself wishing for a good cup of coffee or even some really strong tea. To go along with simply being tired, she also felt gross, her fur coated in dust and matted down with sweat that caused her back to itch as her barding rubbed against it.

Doing what she should have done before going to bed she unbuckled and shrugged off the barding, letting it slip off of her as she sluggishly made her way up the embankment, apprehension building up in her as she narrowed her eyes into slits. As her head crested the ridge she was immediately welcomed by Celestia’s glory, her eyes tearing up as she rapidly fluttered her eyes until it was bearable enough for her to continue on. With a huff, she took several more steps before stopping again, her bleary eyes focusing on a pale shape down by the brook.

It’s too early for this, Finders Keepers thought fuzzily, standing there as her mind and eyes caught up with the rest of her body to piece together what she was looking at. Only when the pale shape unhunched itself did she put two and two together, her ears picking picking up the distant sound of splashing water. Looks like I’m not the only one having good ideas today.

Seeing Kiako’s barding and equipment piled up neatly nearby, she was reminded that even when he had been disarmed he still had some clothing under his barding, back when both of them had been taken in by the Saber Squad mercenaries. No longer having just his legs and arms uncovered and now having his whole body exposed to the world, she thought she could see why. With how thin his fur was it was no wonder he was shivering in the crisp morning air, the bandages on his body providing no help whatsoever.

As she continued to watch the human languidly bathe she found herself slowly becoming more awake, the last remnants of morning fog clearing from her mind as curiosity kicked it back into gear. Watching the biped wash itself, she found herself in equal parts intrigued as well as unsettled. Intriguing because, despite already knowing how strange Kiako’s anatomy was even with his body being covered, it was quite another to get an unobscured look. Unsettling too, actually just being able to see the muscles shifting beneath his skin.

She turned her gaze away with a shudder, deciding that she didn’t need to see anymore. It was just as well she supposed, well aware that bathing while a peeping-pony watched you from a high vantage point was probably not the best way to start a morning. Hate to see what a peeping-pony cutie-mark would look like, she thought, the corners of her lips curling up in an amused smirk.

From her position atop the embankment she had a clear view of the surrounding plains, the Unicorn Mountain Range looming just above the mostly unobstructed horizon. They hadn’t gotten all that far from Haybale the day before, only enough to get it out of sight. Now if I’m right it should be another day before we hit Galloping Gorge, and maybe one or two after that to get to Stableside, she thought to herself, mentally charting their path to the settlement.

Her travel planning was interrupted by the prick up of an ear, body going still for a moment as she caught the distinct sounds of the plains waking up to greet a brand new day. At first it was just the distant calls of birdsongs, but soon it was joined by the barks and snarls of no-doubt wild dogs, maybe even wolves. Amidst their noise she couldn’t hear the birds anymore, and she wasn’t sure if they had flown off or if they’d been made into breakfast.

Regardless it was probably a good idea to hurry up, and she started to trot on down the opposite side of the embankment, calling out to the human. “Hate to interrupt but we might have trouble coming, best hurry up!”

Previously looking calm and generally at peace with the world as he bathed, the human’s posture and general demeanor took a sudden change for the worse as he heard her call out to him. Kiako whirled around to face her, a wide-eyed snarl plastered over his scarlet face, one arm grasping out to his belongings only for something to leap off of the pile of barding and land into his paw.

The hows and whys of what was happening didn’t matter right then, terror and confusion having no place in her mind as instincts took over, her body propelling itself forward as the man’s arm swung out to bring that snub-nosed revolver to bear, her momentum carrying her down the dew-slick grass. Her eyes desperately roved for something to hide behind, knowing full well that this area was as open as a place could be. Cursing herself for leaving her weapon behind with her barding, she was left with no option but to hope against hope, leaping up to her hooves and rocketing forward.

Head low to the ground, her hooves tore up the ground to quickly close the distance between herself and the biped. Somehow a bullet hadn’t torn into her yet, not because of any misses but instead due to the gun not going off at all. Her panicky mind was racing a mile a minute, and she realized that during her rush forward the biped had lowered his aim, and was now trying to dive out of the way. Too late for the both of them.

Shit! was one word that popped into her head, right before her skull slammed into Kiako’s torso and drove the breath from the man’s lungs in a ragged, ugly wheeze. Her vision flashed white for a moment after the collision, the world seeming to stop for the barest of instances before starting up again and sending them both into the brook in a tangle of flailing limbs and mutual cursing. Despite the sudden chill that ran through her body as water washed over her coat and the general chaos of the situation, the one part of her mind that didn’t have a stake in the situation appreciated disjointed blur of water droplets reflecting the morning light, right before her vision swam with stars as a fist slammed up side her head.

She let out a gurgling gasp as her side landed on something hard and angular, the wind blown out of her in a mixture of bubbles and air. The water wasn’t that deep, no more than ankle depth, but it was enough for half of her world to become a muffled, murky blur as one side of her face went under the water with the other above it. From the corner of her eye she saw the pale shape of Kiako looming over her several body-lengths away, but he didn’t advance on her, instead falling to his knees and sitting down on his haunches, one arm held conspicuously between his legs.

Winded but not wiped she lurched up to her hooves, the sound of water cascading off of her wet body and dribbling into the brook below not enough to mask how her ragged breathing, nor Kiako’s. The man in question looked like how she felt, bare flesh scraped and bruised in places, chest rising and falling as he stared out at her warily through wide pupils. The fight — if that’s what it even was, she wasn’t sure — hadn’t taken that long, but like most it was intense and got the blood pumping, and soon enough she was sure she’d come off of her adrenaline high and feel even worse than she had waking up this morning.

Thinking a bit more rationally, she sat down to mirror the human down the brook, each giving a nod of understanding to the other as things wound down. When she had woken up that morning she knew she was going to take a bath, but she really hadn’t expected it to be as chaotic as it had. A soft wind had been blowing in from the south, a bouquet of scents carried along with the breeze that she noticed only now that her sinuses had gotten a good wash. There was the usual smells of the plains, like those of plants and dirt, but there was also the pungent metallic-tang of iron as well. She didn’t think she was bleeding but she checked anyway, her head jerking this way and that as he patted herself down, eyeing the water around her for any crimson stains flowing down from her. It was only when she looked up at Kiako did she see where the scent came from.

“Got a little something there,” she noted casually, pointing to her own muzzle before gesturing over to the man’s nose where a thin stream of blood ran down the slight furrow in the flesh under and between his nostrils, hanging just above his lip.

The man let out an irritated huff, face scrunching up in a scowl that ended with him rolling his eyes and looking away from her for a moment, a paw flicking over to her dismissively. He met her gaze again, a lopsided frown on his face that seemed out of place, almost exaggerated in a way. Hearing the guttural but unmistakably foreign words pouring out of his mouth in rapid-fire fashion, she immediately knew why he seemed more… aggressive than usual.

Finders Keepers couldn’t help but let out a noise of annoyance herself, head craning back as she let out an exasperated groan to the morning sky. This is just what I needed, she thought angrily, teeth gritted. As if this miserable mule wasn’t bad enough when we could at least talk to each other, now I don’t even have that!

More of those strange, guttural words were spoken in her direction, and her ears swiveled over to Kiako before she looked at him. He kept flicking a paw at her, nodding his chin along with it as he looked at her expectantly, eyes glancing somewhere behind her.

“What?” she asked, eyes narrowed in confusion. Despite how frustrated Kiako had made her feel in the past couple of days, she at least had someone to talk to for once on her trips. After everything that happened though, she was definitely going to be charging him for the trip to Stableside. Communicating that was going to be a lot harder now.

Kiako shifted from his previously cross-legged position, bringing his knees inward and withdrawing his left paw from his groin once it was covered up by his legs. He placed the palm of his paw up toward the sky and made placed a digit from his other paw on the surface, making a series of counter-clockwise circles, all the while nodding at her with his chin to an area behind her, voice insistently repeating the same series of words over and over again.

“If you think I’m gonna be turning around right now, think again buster,” she said evenly, shaking her head as she gave the human a flat stare.

He stared right on back at her, looking to be just as annoyed as she felt. With a weary, exaggerated sigh followed by a lone tsk he dipped one hand into the water to retrieve the familiar, dripping shape of his sidearm. Leaning forward so that his chest touched his still closed leg he handed over the weapon, looking grave all the while.

It didn’t take PipBuck technician to figure out the meaning behind the gesture, though she still wasn’t sure why he was handing it over. She stared at the matte black revolver for a long moment before finally giving in, accepting the wooden grip in her mouth and eliciting a brief look of what couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than regret on Kiako’s face.

“Haey, ay’ brus’ muh t’heef twah ah wee’,” she muttered from around the wooden grip, her words sounding like nonsense even to her. With a huff she finally gave in, turning her back on him. Almost immediately she heard the trickle and splashing of water as Kiako got up from the brook, ear picking up soft footfalls heading away from her.

Just as well, she thought, teeth biting down into the wooden handle in a grimace as the last traces of adrenaline were out of her system, a feeling of weariness creeping over her that brought along with it the aches and pains of the brief melee she had taken part in. She doubted it was anything serious, but she was definitely going to be sore for a while, and she was most definitely not going to be wasting any of her hard won Med-X on anything superficial.

Finders Keepers risked a glance behind her, catching sight of the man wearing the same — albeit now slightly damp — grey short-sleeved shirt and groin-shorts as she had seen him wear before. The distinct sound of a zipper was heard as he stepped into the also grey one-piece jumpsuit that he wore under the blue portions of his barding. Her head jerked back to stare forward just as she thought the human was starting to look at her.

You know, I should really be doing something more useful, instead of just waiting for that weirdo, she mused. She had originally come over to get a bath, and despite being shoved into the water she still hadn’t managed to get all of the dust out of her coat; as it was her bath was only half finished.

Gently tossing the firearm onto the dry bank nearby, she stooped down and gave herself a quick roll in the water, stirring up a cloud of silt around her that quickly faded away as it went with the current. Without soap and a good brush she still felt dirty but at least she was less dusty, and she didn’t think she’d have to worry about that particular bane of her existence for a couple more days unless she happened to find a prime scavenging spot.

“You done yet?” Finders Keepers shook her mane in a spray of water droplets, stepping out of the brook with water running down her legs and off her fetlocks. The mare looked over at the man, not really expecting an answer but hoping that he’d take the hint from her tone.

Kiako was bent down half-way at the waist, looking to be in the process of strapping on some barding to a thigh. He would have been at least had he not frozen to stare at her so intensely, brow furrowed as if in deep thought.

“I can understand you again,” the man said before she could even make a comment, sounding just as perplexed as she was.

“Well.” She let the word sit there for a moment, not all too sure where to go from there. On the one hoof it made things a whole lot easier for the both of them, but on the other it just raised a whole lot of questions.

“Well,” she repeated, brow stitched in thought. “Don’t suppose you got any idea how this is happening? Some kind of magic?”

“Again with your magic,” the man quickly scoffed, earning him a deep frown from the mare. “I haven’t been idle in regards to this problem, but even my hypothesis has a lot of holes in it.”

“Aaaand?” Finders Keepers drawled, a hoof tapping in impatience. She was eager to get a move on, and she was already beginning to regret the fact that the human could talk to her again.

“The only possible explanation is that,” he began, voice taking on something akin to smugness as he raised a digit to trail the boundary between where pale flesh and dark metal met, “for whatever reason my collar has created a very limited sort of field around me, and is able to intermittently translate foreign languages into something understandable.”

“So it’s magic,” the pony replied, nodding as if in agreement, taking a bit of childish satisfaction at the brief look of annoyance she got in return. She returned to seriousness, nodding over to the man’s paw and then to the gun resting in the grass behind her.

“What kind of rock have you been living under where you think magic doesn’t exist?” she asked, voice and expression a tad incredulous at the biped’s continual denial of the existence of magic. “Besides, I saw you use magic to pull that gun into your paw!”

“That wasn’t magic,” Kiako asserted with a forceful cutting gesture, letting the words sit for a moment before continuing, “The exact mechanics behind such augmentations are admittedly not well understood, but the process of replicating them and adapting them for human use is understood well enough to conclusively prove it’s not magic.”

She didn’t even know what to say to that, knowing the words individually but not in the way they had been strung together. Still, the way the human had so flippantly shut her down whenever she mentioned magic was really starting to raise her dander, and she really wasn’t feeling all too keen on backing down this time.

“Well if that’s not magic, then how about your slave collar, huh?” she retorted, huffing slightly before continuing on. “That sounds awfully close to magic to me, and it still doesn’t explain why I can understand you!”

“First of all this is not a ‘slave collar’ as you so put it,” the man corrected, not sounding or looking as if he took umbrage with her arguing with him. In fact, he almost sounded as though he was enjoying this!

“That being said,” Kiako continued, tapping the collar in question, “you’ve come across the same hole in the hypothesis as I did. What’s more is that while my collar has a great many useful functions, it has no way of receiving direct audio or visual input.”

“Have you tried taking it off to see if it’s actually your collar thingy then?” Finders Keepers asked, voice taking on some of the weariness she was beginning to feel while talking with the man. She was anxious to get underway, remembering the sounds of wild dogs from earlier.

The man noticeably stiffened as she said that, and she reflexively took a step back as the man’s usual dour expression briefly flickered into something else, something more vulnerable. Had she blinked she wouldn’t have even seen it, but by the way the man glared at her it was clear she had struck a nerve.

“The point of the matter is that while my hypothesis is the one most likely to be true, even that is suspect,” he maintained, voice glacier-like as he stared at her icily, as though challenging the mare to disagree.

Great, not only am I dealing with some foreign creature, but also one that doesn’t like being wrong. Awesome, she lamented, not rising to the human’s bait just yet. Obviously the collar had some sort of importance to him, but just because he didn’t believe in magic didn’t mean she didn’t. She herself didn’t know much about it herself other than the general things a pony should know, like how each type of pony had their own brand of magic. Magic… magic.

Finders Keepers nodded along with the gentle rhythm of her hoof tapping against the grass beneath her, thinking back to all the things she had learned over the years, struggling to maybe come up with a solution. Magic had been a part of Equestria since long before those stuffy old history books that she usually ignored were made, and magic was still here long after the Last Day. For the most part when somepony said magic she often couldn’t help but think of unicorns, or the way they seemed so uppity just because they were the only ones who could cast actual spells.

“Except for gems,” she pondered aloud, drawing a quizzical glance from the man standing over her. Her mouth broke open into a wide, self-satisfied smile, unable to help but congratulate herself on coming up with another alternative to the biped’s stupid collar theory. After all, it wasn’t pettiness if the other pony was being a jerk.

“Hey hey! Do you have any gems on you?” she blurted out excitedly, staring wide-eyed as the man’s earlier quizzical look turned into one of abject confusion. “Come on, that’s gotta be it!”

“Gems, as in jewelry?” Kiako questioned, tilting his head slightly at her, a brow raised. One of his arms moved to a side-pocket of his jumpsuit, digits peeling back a small flap of fabric to drag out a chain. From that chain spun a golden medallion of some sort, one large gem about half the diameter of a bottle cap sitting on the back, while the other side bore a thin, thread-like latticework of gems that sparkled in the sun’s rays.

“Ha!” the mare gloated victoriously, head drawn back smugly. “I’m betting that is what’s doing it!” Whatever it is, anyway.

“Finely crafted, no doubt. But not magic,” the biped stated plainly, turning the piece of jewelry in his paws as he continued to examine it.

“Where did you get it?” Finders Keepers asked, still feeling exultant in her victory but not enough to push her curiosity aside. “When did you get it, too?”

Kiako opened his mouth to say something, but stopped just short of doing so. He remained silent for a bit, still staring at the medallion before finally looking back to the pony, a grave expression on the man’s face. “A bit of petty theft on my part. It came free during my brief scuffle with that one hybrid, Rosewing.”

“And you got away with it too, looks like,” she whistled, a small grin on her face. She wasn’t often one for stealing, but the brief impression Rosewing had made on her didn’t really make her feel all that sorry for her either.

The human twirled the medallion for a bit, the chain wrapping around his digits and bringing the bejeweled golden disc closer and closer to his paw before reversing the direction of spin, repeating the process several times. The whole fidgety act entranced Finders Keepers somewhat, the subtle play of digits interesting to watch but ultimately not enough to distract her from seeing the pensive, guarded look on the man’s face. Kiako continued to twirl the medallion about before suddenly twisting his wrist and letting the necklace fly from his digits.

“What in Tartarus are you doing?!” the mare gaped, watching the undoubtedly valuable if not irreplaceable item flung a good distance away from them before landing at the base of the embankment. She was just about to race over to retrieve the bit of jewelry before she was stopped by a leg planted in front of her.

“No,” the man said flatly, giving a small shake of the head before continuing to speak to her.

Her eyes widened a little, ears perking up attentively him as she took in the strange noises coming out of the biped’s mouth. She didn’t hear the guttural, harsh noises that she had heard him speak in the past, nor did she hear the far more understandable if slightly accented Equestrian that the man just been speaking. No, instead the string of noises that flowed from Kiako’s mouth almost seemed to be the mixture of the two, traces of each mixing into something thoroughly incomprehensible.

Just when she thought she might have started to lose her mind, the words made an abrupt shift back into the human’s guttural language. The rapid shift into one form of nonsense into a more familiar one jarred her senses, the mare unsure of how to react other than to stare at the man in bafflement.

Her reaction wasn’t lost on Kiako, and she could clearly see the realization dawning on him, the muscles that kept his facial features locked in its usual dour, humorless expression softening as his eyes went wide and his lips parted into an open-mouthed gasp of astonishment. His head snapped away from her, the man’s body shifting with it as he rushed over to wear the medallion had been carelessly tossed away, paws scooping it up as though it were something fragile.

“It better not be broken” she fretted, trotting over to the man once he’d gotten ahold of the medallion. “Please tell me it’s not broken.”

The biped dangled the medallion up to her face, gently twisted the chain to turn the bit of jewelry so that she could get a good look at both sides. The gold was untarnished as expected, and didn’t have a mark on it other than perhaps the slight divots where the gems were inset, said gems also looking to be pristine in condition. Her eyes lingered a bit on the lattice-work pattern of gems on the front of the medallion, catching how like before they seemed to gently sparkle or shift colors when exposed to the sun. Definitely magical.

Finders Keepers let out a gentle sigh, the relief palpable in her voice even as she thumped the man’s unprotected thigh with a hoof. “You lummox, you didn’t have to throw the thing!”

The man seemed to ignore her, or at the very least paid no attention to her comment as he brought the jewelry up to his face and pulled a block of metal off of his belt, digits dexterously unfolding a couple of items from what looked to be a pretty expansive multi-tool. He quickly set upon the medallion, probing away with the various heads, futilely trying to find a way to open the jewelry.

“Don’t think you’re gonna be getting too far,” she observed wryly. “And I wouldn’t try dislodging any of those gems.

Kiako’s brow set into a look of determination, the man briefly redoubling his efforts before finally stopping just long enough to look at her unpleasantly. “You mentioned gems before, what do you know about this thing?”

She shot him a shrug, mouth screwed up into a look of indifference. “I’m a scavenger, and jewelry and gems rake in the caps like nopony’s business. If the gems have a spell bound onto them that just means they’re worth more.”

“I don’t see how spelling would relate to a pretty bauble such as this. The enabling our communication is obviously located inside, but I’m finding it incredibly hard to find the join, and twisting isn’t helping either,” Kiako said, still working busily on trying to “unlock” the medallion.

Finders Keepers just stood there, watching the man grow more and more agitated as he was met with failure at every turn. With a muted growl the man eventually gave up, reluctantly tucking the medallion and broken chain into a pocket. She was about to walk off to get her things before Kiako called after her.

“Does the settlement we’re headed to, this Stableside, happen to have the equipment necessary for a slice-writing?” Kiako asked hopefully, voice dipping and seeming to speed up for a brief moment near the end.

Finders Keepers could only shake her head at that, both doubting that Stableside would have anything special and not knowing what the man was even talking about. “Probably not.”

The mare got no response in return, and she was content with that. When she had first woken up that morning she was expecting to get washed up, have some breakfast, and maybe have a little talk before heading out. As it was, with all the weirdness having gone on that morning, she had only gotten two out of three. She was plenty eager to get a move on, having tarried long enough that breakfast would have to be on the go.

She didn’t stop when she crested the embankment, her head swivelling about to get a good look at the plains as she continued on to her belongings. Save for the whisper of the wind and the gentle hum of insects, the plains seemed almost dead in a way, the happy chirping of birds earlier in the morning having still not returned despite the good amount of time she had heard since the dogs had drove them off. Almost always there was the distant background chatter of some sort of critter in the plains, and the silence she experienced then was deeply unsettling, sending a shiver along her spine that had nothing to do with the crisp morning air and her recent bath. To her, it felt as though that the plains was holding its breath, waiting for something to pass on by.

She quickly made her way back down toward where she had slept the night before, her belongings still semi-scattered around the area. There were a lot of scavengers out and about, but unlike most she chose to travel light, if only because she had never been wealthy enough to get some choice bits of equipment. The plus-side of that was that it meant she had very little to clean up, the errant blanket and her thick leather barding the only things not immediately near her saddlebags.

Taking care of her other “morning duties”, the mare was soon finished up and ready to greet whatever troubles the day threw at her, barding strapped on and secure and her saddlebags fastened safely over her flanks and covering her cutie-mark. Once more — and hopefully for the last time — she crossed over the embankment, ready to get a move on. With luck they’d make it to Stableside the next day.

The last time she had greeted Kiako that morning had ended with an embarrassing series of events that she rather forget, but at the very least they had both solved the mystery of how they were able to communicate with one another. Making her way down to the human she saw that he was just about finished himself, his passive-thingy nowhere to be seen save for a conspicuously fresh patch of dirt nearby. She didn’t pry, but she did make a note of its location.

“You ready to get a move on to Stableside?” the mare asked as she sidled up to him, her saddlebags clinking softly with the sound of caps and other goods. The trip there wasn’t just for the human’s benefit, as she herself needed to offload some of the things she had dug up.

“The sooner we get there the better,” Kiako replied, tightening the straps of a vambrace on his forearm and waving his arm a bit before turning to her fully, looking all ready to go. “I do hope you don’t have other plans that come before that.”

“Nope, straight shot to Stableside!” she said, the pleasantness of her tone belying the anxiousness that had nothing to do with the sudden quiet of the plains. She had been entertaining the idea before, back when they had left Haybale, but ever since the little melee she had gotten into the idea had gotten lodged deeper and deeper into her mind until she could no longer ignore it. With all the trouble Kiako had been giving her, what was a little bit of hazard-pay?

“About the trip though,” she continued, tension leaking into her voice as she took several steps to the side so that she could fully face him. “I’m gonna be needing some payment to get you there. No offense but you’ve been… well, you’ve been a whole lot of trouble for me.”

“That’s fine,” Kiako said, nodding to her. “I was never much one for charity, anyhow. Shall we hash out the details when we get there, or now?”

“Now hold on just one… wait, really?” She had half-expected the man to immediately balk at her request, to yell and scream like some sort of lunatic. As it was — and to her surprise — he had readily agreed far faster than she would have expected, even of herself if she had been in his horsehoes.

“Surprised?” the man asked, quirking an eyebrow at her as his voice took on a vaguely patronizing tone. “You are doing me a service, you know. At the very least you should be paid for it, somehow.”

“Do you even have any caps?” Finders Keepers asked suspiciously, eyeing the man as though he were about to try and skip out on paying a tavern tab.

“I’ll come up with something,” Kiako said assuredly, turning away from her and beginning to walk in the wrong direction of where Stableside was. “I am a Tech after all, and an Applier at that. Making things is what we do.”

“That’s good at least,” the mare said, relief clear in her voice even as she pointed in the direction opposite of the man. “But can you at least make in the right direction, we’re going that way.”

“Of course,” he said, and immediately made a smart about face to head in the right direction.

Finders Keepers quickly took the lead, keeping a quick and steady pace as the man followed behind her. With his leg-braces gone the man was easily able to keep up with her, and it looked like if they kept moving without taking many breaks they would be able to get to Stableside the next day.

Though the sun might have been glaring into their faces, she knew that it would pass as the day drew on, and for the time being the warmth felt good even through her barding. A soft northerly breeze flowed across the plains, grass bending beneath its course and creating a soft shushing noise that evoked memories of cool nights and pleasant journeys. Not another pony, griffon, or anything else was in sight, just the two of them making their way to their destination.

Taking in the sights of smells of the natural world around her, that of the summer grasses and a clean breeze carrying the scents of far off places, she should have felt the tension flow out of her, her earth-pony spirit feeling at home in such an environment, away from the dead streets of cities that had died long ago. Normally she would, too, but instead all she felt was a heavy feeling of disquiet, one that dampened what was otherwise a perfectly fine day. She wanted more than anything at that very moment to be in those same dead streets she had grown up in, to feel protective walls closed around her to at least block out the feeling of being watched.

She quickened her pace, determined to shave off several hours off of their journey even if it meant she would be a tired and dishevelled mess at the end of the day. At the very least she had the pleasant picture of a nice pile of caps in her mind, and the confidence to know that in as little as a day or two her imagination would become a reality.

Hearing the sudden, deep, throaty howl from behind them, her quickened pace turned into a gallop, and the chase was on.

Author's Note

Happy 2017 everybody! It's been a long time since I've updated this story, and to be truthful with all of you I had left it along for so long that I was anxious just thinking about it. As mentioned in a post on my page though, I had suddenly come upon the inspiration to get cracking on this.

Unfortunately — despite what I had said — I wasn't able to get it in before the year's end. At the very least though I am able to celebrate the new year with another chapter of the story (and there will be more than one this year, don't you worry).

Once again I thank my editor for his continued help even after my long hiatus, and here's hoping (for my sanity, mostly) that he will continue to edit my work as he has done in the past.