“Ow ow ow ow ow...” Harriet kept complaining as a griffoness by the name Lola sitting in the private coupe next to her refused to stop touching her muzzle.
“Stop complaining, I’m just looking if the Legion medic did a good job. Fixing your pony noses is always a pain in the plot,” Lola explained. Supposedly, she was Irving’s friend or at least colleague, and the three of them were now on over two week’s worth of a train ride west.
“Poking with talons isn’t looking,” she muttered, pouting.
“You should stop talking, dear,” Lola patted her head. When Harriet winced as well, she sighed, “You’re lucky the guy didn’t smash your head into paste. The bones will be still setting, and I’d hate to have to break your muzzle and restitch it.”
“Hurts...” Harriet tried to talk as little as possible after the advice, because even the shortest words were now accompanied by unpleasant tugging all over her head.
“Yeah, I can’t give you anything for the pain yet. Sorry, dear,” Lola relaxed on the padded bench, “Irving said the Legion knocked you out good, and more painkillers would cause more damage than relief. For now, chill out and listen. I told Irving what to get us so that you can eat without hurting yourself, but you’ll be hungry for few days.”
“...I’m fat anyway...”
“Pfff,” Lola waved her foreleg, “If you were one of my girls, the price I would put on you could buy me few nobility titles in a month.”
Harriet wasn’t sure what to make of that, but Lola seemed friendly enough, so she just lay down on the bench, and carefully put her head on some pillow that felt as if filled with tiny marbles, which adapted to her every position.
Lola gave her enough space, realizing how big Harriet really was when she stretched her legs, and opened the coupe door.
“I’ll check up on Irving, you get some rest. Emperor knows you look like you need it.”
Finally alone, Harriet closed her eyes and tried to make sense of what she knew about the situation.
Yesterday evening, Irving had paid some fine and gotten her out of the Legion prison immediately. Harriet had gotten only a moment to talk to the officers about her mom’s murder, and they’d promised to send a patrol to Windy to investigate. That was pretty much everything they’d been able to do on the spot. Of course, they’d given her a warning about attacking anyone no matter the circumstances without due process, but since Black Thorn hadn’t pressed any charges, Harriet had been free to leave.
She’d hoped she would get some time to recover, but that wasn’t the case. Irving had loaded her onto the first train headed west, brought Lola along, and they’d been on the road since then.
Normally, Harriet was certain she would be running around the train, checking out every car, and examining everything, but circumstances were everything but normal. Right now, she just wanted to sleep and get rid of the chemical taste in her mouth. Train… she’d never been on one before. Come to think of it, ever since leaving Windy, she was growing more and more certain that there were far too many things she’d never done that she probably would want to. Her main contact with the world outside had been the stories of merchants and travellers passing through the town. That’s why she enjoyed working at the inn so much.
Now, in the world of big buildings, big moving metal boxes, and even bigger trouble, the big girl felt… tiny.
So, what had she been told?
The ponies who had attacked her father were professional dragonslayers, and quite the infamous group apparently. Irving and Lola belonged to an organization which called itself ‘The Guild’, and from what Harriet understood they seemed a bit shady. Lola ran some place called a pleasure house in Wilbur’s Pass. Harriet had asked if it meant good food, nice company, and massages, to which Lola had answered that she got two out of three right. Irving was the head of Wilbur’s Pass office of The Guild, and explained that the main business of The Guild was... insurance. Yes, even with the awkward pause before the word. Harriet didn’t see anything wrong with helping griffons after an accident.
Anyway, back to the dragonslayers. The Guild had been tracking them since their arrival in the Empire, curious about the treasure they had been hauling all the time, which Harriet now knew was what they were supposed to offer her dad for the necklace. She couldn’t tell that to Irving, though. Reportedly, the group had slain several solitary dragons all over the world already, and who they were currently working for was unknown, because they clearly weren’t after her dad and his gold. Now, since they had come from Equestria, Irving was pretty certain they’d be taking the fastest train route across the Empire, which was the one Harriet was following at the moment. However, considering they had about half a day head start, Irving would have to make few arrangements, which he hadn’t explained, to slow them down.
The good part was that there was pretty much only one route between Equestria overseas and the Griffon Empire, which meant taking a ferry from some place called Griffonstone to a city by the name of Manehattan. However, The Guild had no influence in Equestria itself, so getting to the dragonslayers before Griffonstone where they might lose them was vital. That meant another city called Wyrmlure one day southeast from Griffonstone by train. For now, though, Harriet had two weeks to rest, and she was grateful for it.
The door opened, letting Irving and Lola in. The griffoness poked Harriet who opened her eyes, and squinted at some big plastic cup with a straw sticking out of it.
“Fruit smoothie. It’s not much, but it’s the best they’ve got on the train. Have a sip,” Lola put the cup on the windowside table where Harriet started slurping, slowly at first but then draining the cup immediately as she realized how hungry and thirsty she really was. Come to think of it, the last time she’d eaten something proper was right after the Corrupted attack. She hadn’t dared to have more than a snack when she’d been waiting for the dragonslayers just in case she’d need to run.
She was starving, and now she finally realized it. Thankfully, so did Lola who stood up immediately and smiled at Harriet.
“I’ll go grab another one. Or three.”
Harriet watched Irving for a while as he put something looking like a chess board on the table above which a see-through map appeared, covered in writing.
“What is that?” Harriet spoke up, moving her mouth as little as possible.
“Hmm?” he glanced at her, “It’s an electronic map, one of the best military inventions they ever let out on the civilian market. I’ve got the maps of the Empire and several cities I usually visit loaded on it, as well as train schedules. If we want to get to Wyrmlure quickly enough, we’ll have to switch trains a lot.”
“Woooow...” Harriet’s eyes went wide. Electronic devices were pretty rare in Windy. There were radios, of course, the mini cinema projector at the inn as well as a television, lights, pumps, and some motorized farming equipment, but nothing like Irving’s map.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t understand pretty much anything Irving was doing, so when Lola arrived again, this time with multiple larger cups, Harriet gulped everything down, and fell asleep again.
***
Finally! Oh Emperor’s infinitely sharp talons finally!
Harriet did enjoy the train ride, especially the stops and switching of trains. In the two weeks of travel, she had seen buildings made of glass that reached all the way up to the sky, practical and purely decorational clothes, sampled far too many weird snacks, although that only recently due to her healed muzzle. She LOVED everything. She’d always been overwhelmed, but she’d enjoyed the quick blurry stops as she, Irving, and Lola were waiting for the next train or running towards it as it was about to leave. Whatever Irving had been using his map for, his planning was immaculate.
However, since the Empire spanned a whole massive continent, consisting of states with varying degrees of independence, it came with the side effect of there being absolutely nothing aside from empty land most of the time. As much as Harriet loved the bustle of weird cities and towns, forests, plains, or deserts weren’t her oversized cup of fruit smoothie.
That is why, when she finally stood on the platform in Wyrmlure, she took a short break, and only kept breathing, her broad and toned chest heaving up and down. While Lola and Irving were good storytellers, and enjoyed recounting their experiences, she was happy to finally be out in the open. She’d like to think about herself as a different pony than before the ride, more experienced and everything, although she knew that if she was left alone in a city like this, she’d act just like the girl who had left Windy what felt like months ago.
A griffon bumped into her, gave her a smile, and quickly apologized.
He sqawked the next moment when Irving, having just stepped on the platform himself, punched him in the face.
“Try that shit on someone else,” he growled. Harriet watched him in shock, at least until he presented her money pouch, “Be more careful, Harriet. Pickpockets like that guy are pretty common.”
“But he smiled… and apologized...” Harriet stuttered.
“Yeah, and that’s why you focused on his face rather than his talons,” Irving winked at her, “Basic tricks of the trade.”
Well, it didn’t take long for Harriet to feel stupid again. With a sigh, she put her money pouch into her backpack this time, and followed Irving through the evening city. Every time someone touched her, she shuffled away and patted the spot in case she forgot something, which became increasingly difficult as the crowds of griffons grew, flowing through the streets like a river.
“I-Is there a celebration or something?” Harriet leaned to Lola who shook her head.
“Just griffons unwinding after a day’s work,” the older griffoness patted her back, “We’re almost there, don’t worry.”
“Where exactly are we going anyway?”
“One of The Guild’s places.”
Lola didn’t explain further, so Harriet didn’t pry. Clearly, her two companions were part of something bigger, and she was too overwhelmed by everything to understand the complicated things. She had to start small, which meant not getting pickpocketed again. She was smart enough to understand that if she was to deal with the complex things she would need time.
Soon, they entered a multi-story building which looked like every other by its side, with “Pink Haven” written above the door in glowing and buzzing pink letters. In contrast to the unremarkable exterior, the long entrance hall was nicely carpeted, wooden panels covered the walls, and there was a griffoness wearing a red evening gown sitting behind a desk by the wall, smiling at them. Lola immediately walked up to her, and after a brief and hushed exchange of words she nodded at Harriet and Irving.
“Dancer’s stage, table twenty-one. Free service tonight. Brick is already waiting for us.”
“Oh, is he in charge of the operation?” asked Irving, expression brightening as he resumed walking down the hall, “Good, that means we’ll have some proper muscle with us.”
Harriet followed Irving through one wider double door into a large, dim room with booths in the back corners, couches, tables, and armchairs scattered all over, and a lit stage with five poles and griffonesses dancing around them… and on them. More griffons, male and female, wearing some weird stringy pink underwear were moving between the sitting patrons, offering drinks or sitting in their laps.
Wait, no. There are mares too. Nope… still smaller plots than I do. Thin waists too on top of that. What do they eat to keep that figure? DO they even eat?
Harriet sighed, frowning a little.
“Eep!” she squeaked, realizing she’d just bumped into the perfect six pack of a minotaur wearing nothing but a loincloth. Reflexively, she looked down, lowered her head, and her ears drooped. Unfortunately, that only brought her into a position to notice how bulging the loincloth was, “I-I-I’m r-really sorry,” her wide eyes immediately shot upwards.
The minotaur looked taken aback, but with a growing amused smile on his muzzle.
“Oh, you’re not one of the girls,” he snapped his fingers, pushed his pecs out, and swayed his hips, making Harriet’s eyes unconsciously follow… the loincloth, “Care for a dance? For somepony as pretty as you, I might even do it for free,” the minotaur winked.
“P-Pretty, he heheh heh?” Harriet mumbled, blushing harder and harder, “You think I’m pretty-”
“Hands off, pal,” Irving interrupted, pulling Harriet away by her ear, “Business. If she wants a proper service later, she’ll let you know.”
“Hey, miss,” a different griffon tapped Harriet’s shoulder a moment later, “If you’re not dancing tonight, maybe you could keep me an my friends company. An exotic treat like-”
“She doesn’t work here!” Irving furiously hissed at him.
“Pity,” the griffon walked away.
“Geez, they could at least take a look whether you’re wearing the proper outfit before rushing off to get you. Not that I don’t see where they’re coming from, but they still could use whatever little blood is still in their brains and not dicks.”
“...t-the minotaur seemed nice...” Harriet mumbled quietly.
“If we have time to spare, you can have him. As Lola said, free service for us tonight.”
“H-H-Have h-h-him?” Harriet felt hotter than when saving Jester from the circle of burning oil, “M-M-Me?” her mind short-circuited completely.
Irving shoved Harriet into the corner booth, where an orange griffon built like a house was already sitting with a glass of water. Irving sat down next to her, and Lola joined them soon after.
“How’s it going, Brick?” asked Irving.
“It took some effort, but we have approximately five hours before the slayers arrive. We damaged the train tracks, and reported it in time, which delayed their transport long enough so that the one they need to get to Griffonstone next leaves in the morning. Good planning with the train switching on your part, Irving. They’ll have to spend the night somewhere. We’ve got eyes on few possible routes they can take from the station to the nearest hotels.”
“Firepower?” asked Irving simply.
“Smokescreen, flashbangs, silenced guns. We don’t want to fight, but we can if we have to. Bait?”
“The girl,” Irving nudged Harriet still red like a tomato, “Seems they have personal issues with her, or vice versa. We’ll need to make her a threat, though, or they won’t leave the cargo alone. Weapons and armor, everything clearly visible. Make it big, make it imposing. Harriet could easily outmuscle you, trust me, she can carry enough.”
“That can be arranged,” Brick nodded, not wincing at Harriet’s physical strength being compared to his, “I’m sure you want to have a quick rest before the action, so let’s sort the gear out now in case we find any problems. Come with me,” he stood up and walked off, not waiting for an answer.
Leaving the safety of the corner booth where no one could be listening, Harriet followed the trio through the dim saloon, trying not to look at the grinding around her, and the seductive wiggling on the stage.
The establishment had a set of rather spacious cellars, none of which looked like those for simply storing things back home. These were clean, some even had small lit sets like the mobile theater visiting Windy from time to time, even a couch here and there. The one where Brick led them, though, was locked and behind a heavy door reinforced with metal. When he opened it using both keys and by pressing his talons against a beeping panel next to it, Harriet was treated to the sight of what had to be an armory. Suits like the one she had in her backpack, various shaped things which had to be rifles, and melee weapons of all sorts lined the walls.
“What can you use?” asked Brick out of nowhere.
“M-Me?” Harriet asked when no one else seemed to register Brick’s question. He nodded, “I… I guess something blunt?”
“Hmm, big and blunt,” he immediately headed to one section of the wall, and took a two-handed warhammer which would look at home in the hands of the minotaur from upstairs. With a grunt, he hoisted it on his shoulder, and walked over to Harriet on three legs, where he put it on the floor, handle aimed upwards, “Give it a swing.”
Harriet definitely wasn’t expecting to grab it with one foreleg, stand up on her hind legs, wobble a bit from the unusual center of balance, then swing it, and go back on all three that easily. The hammer was heavy, no question about that, but she couldn’t help smirking when she saw Brick’s, Irving’s, and Lola’s beaks drop.
“Ehm, well, yeah,” Irving coughed, “Told you she was strong.”
“Definitely,” Brick gathered himself quickly, “Any combat experience?”
“Uhh,” Harriet winced, remembering how Black Thorn beat her up at the train platform and before that at home, “I got punched in the face a lot...” she looked away.
To her surprise, Brick nodded.
“The most important part is to be able to take a hit, actually. So, no training. You’ll need to look a lot scarier, then,” he walked over to the wall filled with rifles, looked at one, shook his head, then moved along until he reached a shiny, chrome-plated thing with long muzzle. Irving, Lola, and Brick huddled together, whispering for a moment, then Brick grabbed the weird gun, and carefully offered it to Harriet, “Try this one for size.”
“What is this?” Harriet took it with utmost care. It was shockingly light, and beeped when she touched the trigger, “Eep!”
Brick scratched his head, giving Irving a raised eyebrow.
“It’s a… version of a beam rifle. Kind of a last resort thing. Scary looking, isn’t it?” Irving explained nothing.
“Definitely,” Harriet fastened the rifle on her chest via a neck and shoulder strap, “Can I test it somewhere?”
“No, sorry,” Irving shook his head quickly, “This is a brothel slash dance club, not a shooting range. If everything else fails, just aim it and pull the trigger. There’s no recoil on that thing,” when he saw Harriet’s blank look, he added, “That means it won’t make your foreleg twitch when you shoot it. This baby will hit straight where you’re aiming.”
“Okay,” Harriet tried to be helpful, “I’ve got my own suit and helmet if that helps. The suit is a bit on the small side, but the helmet fits pretty well.”
“Well, show us.”
A minute of outfitting later, Harriet stood in front of once again stunned trio. She felt as if she was spilling out of Terry’s suit, although the helmet did fit well. Despite the hugging all over, the suit wasn’t uncomfortable.
“...I’ve never seen someone in a military armor look so tasty...”
“...You absolutely sure she doesn’t work here?”
“If you hire her, Lola, we’ll be swimming in gold...”
Irving shook his head and licked a string of drool dripping from his beak.
“Alright, alright. No matter how… distracting this might be, I think you need a different suit. Something a bit more on the scary side, despite how hard it would be for the ponies to walk with one extra leg.”
Some experiments later, Harriet stood in front of the trio again, holding the warhammer, and wearing a black leather and chain armor.
“The dark red scales really put the whole thing together,” Brick nodded, “I’d be praying to the Emperor if I met you in a dark alley. This will work just fine. Anyway, all you need to do is lure at least three of them away from the cart, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
“Okay,” Harriet nodded, taking a careful aim with the beam rifle thingy, “What now?”
Brick looked at the watch around his foreleg.
“Well, since we’re done here, why don’t you go upstairs and enjoy yourselves a bit. Some stress relief surely wouldn’t go amiss. Just don’t leave the premises, and I’ll come find you when it’s time to go.”
With Brick setting the required equipment for Harriet aside, the trio left the cellar, and returned upstairs. Lola left to do some business, and so did Irving a short while later after ordering Harriet some fruit and a sweet drink that burned a bit when she sipped it, but not in a bad way.
She relaxed in her armchair, casting occasional glances at the waiters and sometimes waitresses moving between the patrons. This wasn’t so bad. Even the worries about what was about to happen seemed a little more distant than before. Was it the drink? Possibly. Long Island something… tea related?
So, as Harriet got just a little bit buzzed without her knowledge, she let her head drop to the side a little-
-straight against something hot.
“Hmm?” she looked upwards, realizing she was leaning against the minotaur waiter’s thigh, “Oops, I’m really sorry, sir,” she quickly straightened up.
“Don’t worry, miss Harriet,” he knew her name. HE KNEW HER NAME! “Brick told me you were done with your business here, and since you seemed interested last time we bumped into one another, seeing as I don’t have a client scheduled for some time… my offer still stands.”
Emboldened by the minotaur’s first move, Harriet recalled that the services tonight were free for her. Still, she was… her.
But he seemed genuinely interested, and she didn’t need to pay like she saw other patrons who slipped coins and bills both to the dancers and the waiters who occasionally rubbed themselves on them.
“Umm,” she could barely hear herself, “I don’t really know… what to do.”
Now I screwed up! I’m my twenty-two and I still have no clue how any of this works… in pairs, I mean.
The minotaur raised an eyebrow, but smiled.
“Leave that to me. We’ll start with a massage, and see where we go from there,” he took more and more blushing Harriet’s claws into his hand, “Shall we?”
Silently nodding, Harriet let him lead the way, only with a quick break to make sure she hadn’t left a wet spot in her seat.
***
Harriet felt dirty, confused, ecstatic, but warmer than in weeks, as she followed Irving’s lead through the darkness of Wyrmlure streets. Her mind was still locked in the brothel room, though, and she was certain part of her would stay there for a long time. She felt heat running through her again when she recalled the minotaur’s skilled fingers… and way more.
To her surprise, she wasn’t blushing anymore. It had been way better than her claws, than even the toy she’d found in her mom’s drawer once. The minotaur had been strong, forceful, and gentle at the same time. He’d pushed her to her limit, and then went further until she’d found a line she didn’t think she’d cross, and then she’d left it far behind her under his guidance.
She caught herself licking her lips, and slapped her cheek. This would be a memory to jog her imagination later. Now, however, it was time for much less pleasant activities.
According to a griffon who had informed Irving and her a moment ago, the dragonslayers had left the train station, and were taking one of the previously scouted routes. In just few minutes, Harriet might not get her revenge, but she’ll get the stolen amulet back, whatever it was, and according to Irving and The Guild, the estimated value of the lost treasure would be a massive blow to them. All she had to do was to look as scary as possible. Considering her current outfit, that wouldn’t be difficult.
Eventually, Irving and Harriet reached a barely lit plaza. The griffon patted her shoulder.
“Ready? They’ll be here any minute.”
When Harriet took a deep breath followed by a nod, he flew away. She was happy the windows of the buildings surrounding the plaza were all dark, and the street lamps were barely working, reportedly The Guild’s work. That way, no one would see her shaking, and if she managed to steady her voice at the right time, this would work.
Finally, she heard the hoofsteps and the quiet voices. The plan was for her to wait until the dragonslayers got to the plaza so that they could be outnumbered by the Guild agents, but not so far that it would take too much time to haul the cart away into the alleys, and get lost.
Five… five of the bastards, only one Harriet.
They noticed her immediately as she walked out from behind a tall tree in the center of the plaza, heading towards them with a determined stride. When she was some ten griffon lengths away, she flicked the switch on her helmet, blasting them with light.
“Remember me, bastards?” she called out, standing up and swinging her warhammer once before dropping back on three legs, “You’re not getting away with murder!”
Black Thorn rolled his eyes, and walked forward.
“I don’t know if you’re stubborn or just that stupid, but I’ll give you one last chance, girl. LEAVE! This isn’t your business. Your mother’s death is regrettable, but it was her own fault. Push me further, and you’ll join her today,” he said, voice filled with annoyance, as he walked closer.
Harriet grabbed her beam rifle, aiming it at Black Thorn.
“Your death won’t be… regrettable,” she pulled the trigger, aiming a bit off. A beam of white light hit the flagstones between the dragonslayers, not doing anything. Black Thorn immediately teleported away anyway.
Harriet kicked backwards on reflex, grunting as her devastating blow sent reappearing Black Thorn flying. Coughing but unharmed, the next moment the dragonslayer faced the heavy warhammer barreling down on him.
It slipped on blue bubble, crushing stones next to him. Black Thorn disappeared again.
The unicorn responsible for protection magic pointed at Harriet, his horn glowing in tune with the other dragonslayers’ armors. Just like in the cave, the big earthpony with a shield jumped in front of the unicorn while the pegasus flew up.
He immediately darted to the side mid-air as another bolt of white light from Harriet’s rifle passed him by.
Something clinked next to Harriet-
Breaking glass?
-which made her jump aside immediately. Next to her, black and alive mass that hadn’t been there before grasped for her, and upon missing turned into an inert inky puddle.
The chemist earthpony, right.
As Black Thorn carefully circled around her, the pegasus flew above, and the chemist pulled out another vial, Harriet took a step backwards, aiming her gun again.
Aaany moment now.
Suddenly, black smoke burst out from near the cart like a wave, covering everyone.
“Go go go!” she heard a new voice.
Black Thorn appeared in front of her, pouncing, and despite her weight and strength she ended on her back, the dragonslayer on her. Thankfully, she had the gun ready, aimed at his chest.
“What did you do, you stup-”
She pulled the trigger.
The white light harmlessly reflected off of his armor.
“-huh?” Black Thorn punched Harriet in the face before stomping the rifle against her chest. The weapon easily broke into pieces, revealing a small mechanism and some mirrors, “What is this, a TOY?!”
Harriet was still reeling from the punch. Black Thorn’s furious voice worked like a bucket of ice water, though. A toy?
“GOT IT! OUT OUT OUT!” voices came from the smoke and darkness.
A burst of wind blasted the area, clearing the smokescreen, and revealing a group of griffons fleeing into the streets with the cart. The dragonslayer pegasus was lying on the cobblestones, bleeding. The earthpony alchemist was out as well. However, the unicorn mage, Black Thorn, and the big earthpony with the shield looked untouched.
“AFTER THEM!” screamed the leader.
“HELP ME!” called out Harriet.
“Good job, girl! You did everything we could have wanted!” she recognized Irving’s laughing voice disappearing in the distance before everything went white.
Harriet’s ears were ringing, she couldn’t see anything, and she could barely form a coherent thought. They… left her? She helped them and they left her? They’d been so nice before, so…
I’m so stupid!
Tears of shame and anger joined those of pain from the brilliant explosion in her eyes, but there was no time for it. Using sheer stubborn willpower, she got on all fours, blinking away the whiteness.
Okay, okay, okay, they left me here. They planned on it from the beginning, that’s why they gave me the prop gun. The hammer’s real, very real.
She grabbed the hammer handle just in time to-
“YOU WORTHLESS HYBRID BITCH!”
-pick it up and block Black Thorn charging straight at her.
The weight of the unicorn was far greater than before, and far beyond what his frame should allow. He punched with a glowing armored hoof, breaking the hammer’s wooden handle and Harriet’s nose again in one blow. The sharp pain shooting from her muzzle everywhere else was nothing compared to the murderous expression of Black Thorn.
“I was trying to be nice before, but you just had to fuck everything up!” he hissed, “Now we’ve got no amulet, no treasure for the business, and two shot guys.”
“Ah-msr-” she tried to raise her head. Wrong choice.
*CRUNCH!*
The little height was just enough for her to take both the blow of Black Thorn’s hoof, and the flagstones underneath.
Harriet’s world swam, pain flowing away through sheer concussion. Unable to focus, she barely registered Black Thorn’s heavy breathing, and growling:
“We’ll fucking recoup our losses before the boss kills us. Mist Shield, immobilize this damn… thing!”
Harriet’s body locked up completely. Through eyes wide open, she saw the unicorn mage approach while Black Thorn levitated his knife.
“I won’t let you bleed out quickly. You’ll have time to enjoy this for a while!” he jammed the blade under the skin of her foreleg…
...right where her scales began.
“MMMMHNNNGH!” she tried to scream for help, but the spell didn’t allow her. She felt everything, every agonizing inch of the blade moving and cutting each scale off separately. By her second foreleg, her eyes burned from tears and mouth was bleeding from the gurgling.
Black Thorn, scowl on his face, continued flaying Harriet with practiced ease and zero mercy.
Her brain was practically fried after he was done with the scales on her legs. Only her eyes followed his flying dagger to her muzzle, where it dug in once again. Then the spell faded, leaving her completely slack, locked in her private world of crippling agony.
“HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”
From the corner of her eye, she saw a black equine figure with far too many flailing limbs standing almost atop her.
Black Thorn’s quick retreat with a bag of her scales signalled that Harret’s trouble was only beginning.