The Sun was inordinately bright, seeming to perpetually hang at just the right angle to always peek into the corner of Rarity’s eyes. Rarity knew the Sun personally—it was said in the old stories that Celestia was the Sun in the body of a pony, but of course the Princess was quick to deny it. Yet wasn’t she for all intents and purposes the Sun, in form and function? She was Equestria’s guiding light, the constant and steady presence that lit the way of everyone who believed in the magic of friendship.
Today she was the mortal enemy of all those who believed in keeping their manes puffy, bouncy, and curled.
“Ugh, I thought this time of year would be more humid with all the rain!” Rarity groused, pulling her comb through the stubborn split ends. She brought out a can of mane treatment and sprayed liberally, making Bonny turn up her nose.
“We ain’t even outta the gate,” she remarked, sitting shotgun on the front of the open-air carriage provided for their trip. “You gonna start freakin’ out when the Diamond Dogs throw some dirt at us?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Rarity said, flipping open a hoofheld mirror to make sure her fur was straight. “I have a special magical shield for that. My friend Twilight Sparkle was kind enough to teach me.”
She realized she said that with a totally straight face, and grinned sheepishly as she tucked her hair care products away into a corner of her saddlebag. “Ahem! Sorry. Old habits die hard.”
“That they do,” Bonny muttered, staring down at Rarity with all the imperial condescension of Nightmare Moon.
“Are you all ready for the journey?” Little Strongheart said as she trotted up to them with her buffalo escorts and Braeburn in tow. “It will be a few hours’ walk. My buffalo and I will be happy to do the pulling.” She smirked at Braeburn. “It took some convincing.”
Braeburn scuffed his hoof. Rarity thought he looked adorable when embarrassed. “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’ to be polite,” he muttered. “I can pull just as much as anypony.”
“Anybody!” Strongheart reminded him as she and one of the buffalo hitched herself up to the wagon. “Do not worry Braeburn. It is a matter of convenience, not a reflection on your generosity.”
“Come and sit with me, Braeburn!” Rarity cooed, patting the seat next to her in the carriage. “Don’t worry. We all appreciate the gesture.”
“Just tryin’ to be a gentlecolt. Mama didn’t raise no chauvinist, no sir,” said Braeburn as he clambered up next to Rarity. Bonny seemed to make a conscious effort not to look their way. “You know,” said Braeburn, “it wasn’t long ago I’d never even heard of a buffalo before. They didn’t come out of the plains or talk to us ponies until we, uh, built our town in their way.”
“We have lived in this land for as long as any of our tribe could remember,” said Little Strongheart as she began to walk, the wagon rumbling behind her. If she even noticed the extra weight of provisions, ponies, and solid wood, she hid it well. “The coming of the ponies changed everything. We do things completely opposite to the ponies: living alongside the land and letting it shape us instead of shaping it to what we desired.”
Rarity’s ear twitched. “Living alongside?”
“Oh!” Strongheart gasped. “I am sorry, I forgot that you did not stay long enough to learn our history. I apologize if you took offense, Rarity.”
“None at all, darling,” Rarity replied, rummaging through the back of the wagon to pull out an extra-large parasol and fasten it so it covered herself and the other passengers. She ignored Bonny’s sharp glance, letting it bounce off the dismissive hoof she waggled at Strongheart. “But please, do go on. Whatever do you mean by ‘living alongside the ‘land?’”
Strongheart made a thoughtful noise, turning her head up to the Sun. “It is a complicated explanation, and usually only the shamans of our tribe tell it to outsiders. It goes back to our very creation myths.”
“We got time,” said Braeburn, whom Rarity noticed leaned back to enjoy the shade as opposed to Bonny, who petulantly curled up on her end of the seat—but not enough to be out from under the parasol. “‘Sides, I think it’ll do Rarity good to hear it.”
“If it would be out of turn…” Rarity began.
“Yeah, yeah, tell ‘em, Little Strongheart!” one of the escorts cheered. “I love that story.”
Strongheart smiled sheepishly. “It is just… I am not as eloquent as some of our greatest storytellers. But I will try.
“Our greatest storytellers speak of a time before memory when our land was still new. The Earth Keepers—that is the name of those who created the land, and the name is all we know—could not keep order by themselves. The earth grew wildly, and everything wanted to be the biggest and the best. The mountains were full of hubris and all tried to be as tall as the next, until nobody could walk over or around them. The plants all sought to spread across the land according to their kind, but crowded out and choked each other. And the rivers were the worst of all, carving the land up between them and flooding it as they snaked to and fro, not caring at all who got in their way.
“The Keepers looked for whoever might control the wild land, but only one was found to be strong enough: Father Bison and his children. The Keepers decided to give this land to Bison, and told him to bring the land to heel. By combining our herds together, we trampled the proud mountains and stamped out the vast fields of green. We forded the rivers and turned them away with the sheer weight of our bodies. And so we made all the land peaceful again, but Bison was too proud of his children’s accomplishments and refused to give the Earth back to the Keepers. Convinced we could do no wrong we continued to stampede until the land was utterly flat and dry and choked with dust instead of green plants, and only then did we realize our mistake. So our great Father learned humility, and charged us with keeping the land clear of chaos without overstepping our bounds. We stampede still to remember that, but only in the places we have marked for ourselves. When the ponies came we could not understand them; how they seemed to make the land become green where it used to be dead, make it rain where there were never clouds, and erect buildings where only rocks and plants should grow. It reminded us of the tales of pride, and it frightened us.”
Rarity blinked when she realized Strongheart’s gentle voice was no longer serenading them. She craned her neck and saw the town already far behind them, merely a smattering of shapes on a shimmering, shaky horizon. It seemed the buffalos’ stride was longer than she thought.
“Goodness,” she whispered. “That’s quite a tale. I certainly hope that everyp—everybody came to an understanding after we left?”
“Oh, yes. Things have been very peaceful between our tribes since that day. We like to stampede through their orchards and smell the ripe apples.”
“And we like havin’ ‘em!” Braeburn chirped. “There’s nothin’ better than a hoedown when the buffalo are invited. Heh, some of ‘em have taken to pony dances; when they really get goin’ it’s like an earthquake! You can feel it for miles around. Some say it keeps away the Tatzlwurms.”
“You have those around here?” Rarity gasped, putting her hoof on her chest. She’d only heard of them from Twilight.
“Oh, don’t go worryin’ your pretty head, just a joke is all,” said Braeburn, spreading his hooves so one went around Rarity’s shoulders. It made her smile.
“Fact is,” Braeburn continued, “we’ve got all kinds of changes out here. The buffalo are wide-ranging folk an’ give us reports of storms an’ dangerous critters, tell us what the lay of the land is like. Just in case we need to adjust our crop yield estimates, whether to adjust irrigation, an’ the like. They’re a big help. An’ their trampling skills do come in mighty handy whenever we need heavy liftin’ or a particularly huge rock needs squashin’.”
“Pinkie’s sister is a specialist in that area,” said Rarity.
“Heh!” Braeburn chuckled. “Not likely we’ll get one of those out here any time soon, though.”
“It all took some getting used to,” said Strongheart. “We were not aware that pony magic could be as helpful as it has been. Some of us are starting to like the idea of some of the desert becoming green again… within reason, that is. Others would prefer that things remain as they are.”
“A mirror image of our own problems,” Rarity murmured. “Appleloosa is in a bit of an ideological split, as it were.”
“No need to go passin’ it around,” Bonny muttered.
“I think they already know,” said Braeburn. “‘Sides, they’ve a stake in this just like us.”
“I did not want to say anything in the town,” said Strongheart, her large head bowed as her legs continued moving in an easy stride.. “It would have been unseemly. But I could not help but notice the cold atmosphere. It was not like the ponies of Appleloosa at all.”
“You may have heard,” Rarity said, ignoring Bonny’s glare, “that the town is undergoing review for investment by certain outside parties. There is a worry that if and when the town is found to be profitable, they will lose part of who they are.”
“It was much the same for our people when we decided to become stewards rather than tyrants,” replied Strongheart. “If the land should choose to become something other than what it is, who would we be to decide? But was it not our sacred duty to prevent the land from falling to Discord and strife within itself?”
“Guess there weren’t no easy answers, huh?” Bonny grumbled, her chin in her hoof as she stared out at the badlands passing by.
“There is no answer within the story,” Strongheart replied, holding her head a little higher, “but I believe that the absence of an answer is an answer. It tells us that we should never be so proud as to think that one solution will always be better than others, and in struggling with these problems, we make ourselves stronger and wiser. If there was only ever one path to stampede, why stampede at all? It would only wear the earth down until we have nothing left to stand on.”
Silence settled over them like the drifting dust. There was nothing left to do now but wait and watch as the hills grew closer till they rose over the little party, looming over them until it seemed they were ready to fall forward and crush them. Agave plants threw their leaves wide open to the sky here, and only a few low-lying cacti and other hardy shrubs kept them company. The land behind them was so flat they saw the curve of the horizon under a giant blue canvas, unbroken by cloud or pegasus—that emptiness chilled Rarity far more than the seemingly near-lifeless ground. This was a harsh place, totally undisturbed save for the creaking of the wagon wheels, and the stomps of the buffalo hooves, and when that stopped there was only the distant screech of a falcon trailing off into utter silence. Braeburn offered his hoof to Rarity and Bonny as they hopped off, and Rarity winced at the indelicate crunch of gravel underhoof. She stood completely still, taking in the serenity of solitude.
What drove a pony out here, she wondered? Could she ever really understand that primordial need to tame the wilds like a buffalo or an earth pony? What kind of pony went somewhere precisely because there were no ponies? Clearly, the ones with her, but knowing them didn’t make it any less alien.
It was so smothered by quietness she reached out with her magic and loosed a clump of rocks, watching them slide down the hillside just to fill the place with a little more activity. How dreadful, she thought, for there to not even be anypony around to savor this total loneliness—a world where just one little rock tumbling a few feet constituted a moment of excitement.
“Rarity!” Braeburn snapped her out of her reverie by poking with his hoof. “You comin’?”
“Oh, yes. My apologies. Just a little distracted. This is a very… hard-bitten place.”
“No kiddin’,” said Bonny. “It looks less friendly than a buffalo’s behind. Uh, no offense.”
One of their escorts grinned. “None taken. We buffalo are pretty fierce on both ends, eh?” he said, sharing a hoofbump with his fellows.
“This looks like it will be our entrance,” said Strongheart, pointing out an opening in the hillside. It was circular and rugged, carved haphazardly into the rocks. The ceiling was held up by primitive wooden and stone supports.
“Definitely looks like Diamond Dogs,” said Braeburn, poking at three long parallel gouges in the rocks. “We are gonna be able to negotiate with ‘em, right?”
"We do not know what kind of creatures these Diamond Dogs are," said Strongheart, sniffing around the cave entrance. "I hope we do not offend them just by being here."
"The Dogs are well known for their love of gems, at least where I am from," said Rarity. "I am possessed of a unique spell that points out any and all precious stones in the area. Surely that will help appease them... assuming they do not try and enslave me again."
"Enslave you? No way I’m lettin’ it come to that!" said Braeburn, with equal parts shock, indignation, and concern that Rarity found quite fetching. She nonchalantly tossed her mane.
"I never told you that story? The brutes assumed they could make off with me and make me a pack mule for their mining operations." She shuddered. "I shan't entertain thoughts of what could have happened if my friends didn't come to my rescue - or if my captors weren't so singularly inept. I wouldn't worry. If these Dogs are anything like the ones back home, the mere sight of these buffalo will send them running, and if that fails we'll run circles around them in our negotiations."
"How would running in circles help? Is that a unicorn spell?" Strongheart asked, genuinely curious. After a moment of blank stares from the ponies, she blushed and smiled. "Oh. My apologies. I am still not so familiar with pony turns of phrase."
"No harm, dear," said Rarity, trotting past her and into the cave. "Now let's get out of this dreadful heat. This can only be a Diamond Dog tunnel, so if we follow it, then Diamond Dogs we will find."
“How’s that, exactly?” asked one of the buffalo.
“You’ll see,” Rarity said with a shiver of anticipation.
If outside was unnervingly quiet, the cave had the peace of the grave to it. The shadows wrapped around them like cool blankets, sheltering them from the Sun's prodigious heat, but they were quickly rendered almost blind save for a light cast by Rarity's horn. Rarity walked at the head of the group, accompanied by Braeburn at her side and Bonny at her flank. Strongheart walked directly behind her, and their two escorts crowded behind Strongheart. The cave was built to Diamond Dog size - much larger than a pony, but still not quite comfortable for buffalo. Their hoofsteps rang in their ears as the sound bounced off the closed-in spaces.
"So," said Bonny, sparing Rarity the embarrassment of speaking first, "you did deal with these Diamond Dogs before, right?"
"Yes," said Rarity. "It shouldn't be too difficult. There is a reason these creatures have not figured out how to build houses or plant seeds or achieve even the most base advancement in spelunking couture."
Bonny gulped audibly. "Okay. Good. Great. Should be outta here in no time, then."
Rarity glanced over her shoulder. "Are you nervous, Bonny?"
Bonny looked over her shoulder. They’d barely gone a dozen yards—the light of the entrance still shone behind them. "Me? Pfft. Nah. Just don't like it in here, is all. Can't see the sky. Mama said I should've been a pegasus. Puh. Don't know why I'm talkin' so much. I'll just keep quiet now."
"It's quite all right," Rarity began, but Bonny was already staring resolutely at the ground in front of her. Strongheart cleared her throat.
"Chief Thunderhoof says that admitting to fear is the first step to conquering it. You must know your enemy to defeat them."
"I said I'm fine!" Bonny snapped, and her voice bounced off the walls, down the tunnel, and back to her in a ghastly echo. Everyone's ears folded back, and Bonny pulled her hat over her face. "Let's just get this over with, kay?"
“I think I know what would help,” said Rarity, smiling mischievously. “You asked before how we were to find the Diamond Dogs? Well, let me show you.”
Her horn ignited, and a sound like chiming bells accompanied the sparks that fell to the ground. The gentle blue-white glow illuminated an area around them larger than any torch, and was much easier on the eyes. Rarity wished she had a mirror, as she knew she must look divine in this light. Braeburn and the buffalo ooh’d and ahh’d appreciatively; Bonny kept a straight face. Rarity led them further into the caves, tapping the stone with her hooves, trying to find the old rock that was here when these hills were still young. Up and down and through strange, silent corridors they went. Rarity followed the tingling in her horn tip.
“Now, I’m no expert,” she said, “but I do know that Diamond Dog work is very sloppy. Wherever they dig they are sure to have left behind—”
Her eyes twinkled in time with the glow in the rock that suddenly brightened up the cave that much more. Within the wall was embedded a single, ovular gemstone of deep red.
“Rhodochrosite,” Rarity rattled off from memory.
“You know gems?” asked Braeburn.
“It’s more of a hobby,” Rarity explained, flicking her tail at her cutie mark. “But this means we’re getting close. As I was saying, the Dogs would dig straight through any veins they discover, haphazardly leaving behind this conspicuous trail for us to follow. Onwards!”
She hopped away at a brisk trot, and all around them the walls seemed to come alive. Rarity’s grin grew until her cheeks ached. All around them were deposits of sapphire, jasper, and amethyst of varying sizes. The Diamond Dogs’ work was clearly unfinished, and Rarity’s excitement grew. This was a motherload! Just half of what she saw embedded in the walls could fund a large city for a month, let alone a small place like Appleloosa. Her mind was awhirl with plans and machinations, already thinking of how to build on this foundation, and she remarked as much to the others.
“I don’t think the Dogs will take kindly to us swipin’ their valuables,” Bonny snarked. Rarity sent her a cutting glance disguised with a smile.
“Well, that is why I am here, is it not? Though the Diamond Dogs are not the most cultured of all the thinking races, I am sure that once I elucidate our plans they will be happy to be a part of something larger.”
“Let’s just concentrate on finding ‘em first,” Braeburn reminded her. “Talk can come later.”
Rarity saw the wisdom in that, but though she quieted her lips her mind was still blazing. At last, a breakthrough! After days of butting heads and sweating for a solution, she’d come close to what she felt was the answer. Very soon now they’d find the Dogs and their good work would be completed, and it was Rarity’s spellwork that got them here! She’d be the toast of the town, the belle of the ball, the very epitome of diplomatic majesty and—
“Hey! Rarity!” Bonny snapped in her ear.
She jumped and squealed, ears flat against her head. “Oh goodness! Bonny? What is it?”
“The tunnel slimmed up back there. Didn’t you notice? The buffalo’re havin’ trouble gettin’ through!”
Rarity looked over her shoulder. Far behind her, Strongheart and her escorts were gingerly squeezing their way through a skinny portion of the tunnel, wiggling their hooves to scrape their bulky frames over the rock.
“Oh man,” said one as he gasped and wheezed to suck in his gut, “shouldn’t’ve eaten that extra bowl of porridge, eh?”
Braeburn grabbed one of his hooves and tugged. “Don’t you worry, partner! Just take it slow. Breathe out!”
“No need to get your hooves dirty, Rarity,” Strongheart called, her voice echoing down the long tunnel. “We will not be long.”
But seconds dragged into minutes, and Rarity was anxious to keep moving. She looked over her shoulder, saw the tantalizing twinkle of more gems. Truth be told, some of her nervous energy had a tinge of fear to it. She could almost hear the sound of pickaxes and rough claws carving solid stone, smell the disgusting aroma of matted, unwashed fur. She shivered at the thought of those beastly things getting their claws on her again, and though she knew she was safe with her friends, she still pleaded with herself to be distracted.
“Bonny,” she said to the mare standing at her side, “I want to tell you I think we got off on the wrong hoof.”
“At least we agree on somethin’,” Bonny quipped, staring straight ahead as Braeburn and Stronghoof tugged and yanked on one of the buffalo while another shoved him from behind. The poor dear’s eyes were almost comically bugging out as he slowly budged forward.
“Bonny,” Rarity tried again, “please. Tell me why you must be so hostile at every turn. It’s almost irrational, even out here. I know you care about Appleloosa—”
“Don’t play the therapist with me,” Bonny said. “You wouldn’t understand why I care about this place.”
Rarity took a deep breath, struggling not to facehoof.
“Perhaps I could,” she whispered. “If you would but tell me. We ponies are not solitary creatures, Bonny. We are at our best when we stand together.”
“That’s what I’m doin’,” Bonny replied under her breath. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and Rarity leaned back just a bit. She wasn’t just irritated; something had made her furious. “Standin’ with the ponies who took me in, gave me everything when—” Her jaws clamped shut. “Never mind. I stand with ‘em, that’s all, an’ I’ve got my reasons, an’ I don’t wanna share ‘em with you, so just butt out!”
Rarity almost tittered at the obvious evasion. But the way Bonny had reacted when she nearly revealed that little tidbit... There was so much anger there, anger she hadn’t even expected to find. Irritation, stubbornness, yes, but not the barely concealed rage that slithered just under Bonny’s skin.
“Bonny,” she said once more, “I feel as if there is something more to this than just me.”
Bonny said nothing, but Rarity saw her jaw tighten even in the blueish half-light. She went on, carefully. “Please. I want to be your friend. A friend to everypony. It’s my destiny as the Element of Generosity to—”
“I smell somethin’,” Bonny announced suddenly, standing up. Stronghoof and Braeburn looked back.
“Dogs?” Braeburn whispered.
Bonny shook her head and turned to the tunnel behind her. “No, fresh air.”
Stronghoof raised her head and closed her eyes. Her nostrils twitched. “It is faint,” she said, “but I can sense it as well. Perhaps there is more to why the Dogs chose this place than gems.”
“I’m gonna go find it,” Bonny said, and marched forward without consulting anypony.
“Hold up, now! Take Rarity with you, it’s dangerous to go alone!” Braeburn called out, but Bonny just flinched and ignored him. Rarity looked between her and the others, and then darted to follow Bonny.
“We’ll wait if we come to an intersection! The gemstones I’ve lit will stay visible for quite some time, so you needn’t worry,” Rarity called back, turning back to the tunnels.
“Buffalo, huh?” Bonny grunted. “Can’t take two steps without knockin’ somepony over.”
“That’s hardly a way to talk about those willing to lend a hoof,” answered Rarity.
“Whatever. Now come along this way,” Bonny said, quickening her pace. “I toldja I smell water.”
“Smell…?” Rarity whispered to herself, but before she got a word in edgewise, she found herself trotting after Bonny deeper into the dark.
“Bonny, hold on,” she said, but the mare kept walking. Rarity narrowed her eyes and quickened her pace, coming alongside the other mare. “Bonny,” she said more sternly, “the others will need time to catch up!” She looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, though a glowing trail of gems followed behind, only two of the buffalo had squeezed through the gap, and they were receding quickly.
Rarity saw Bonny deliberately put her nose up and walk a little faster. This sparked some ire, but she kept it in check. Doing something unladylike in these tunnels was tempting in the extreme with no witnesses around, but if she couldn’t retain her poise and grace when nopony saw, what good was she?
“Bonny!” she snapped. “Do explain to me what the hurry is, and what you meant by this whole ‘smelling water’ business! I can’t smell anything but the sweat in my mane and the dirt in my nose. Bonny, say something before I get very cross with you—”
“There!” Bonny stopped suddenly and pointed.
Rarity was just about ready to give her a piece of her mind when she realized what they saw. A humongous opening leading to an arched ceiling pitted with holes, through which streamed harsh sunlight. Where the rays finally struck the ground, it glowed and shimmered because it wasn’t ground at all, but water. A vast subterranean lake spread out before them, glittering like ice for how still it was, and just as cold. Rarity felt the chill from here.
“Amazing,” Rarity whispered. “Where could it all have come from?”
“Must be connected to some kinda aquifer below ground, fed by springs or somesuch,” Bonny muttered. “I thought I smelled fresh water. See?” Bonny said, flicking her tail. “I ain’t so useless after all.”
“Nopony implied you were,” Rarity said, casting her horn’s light out as far as it could go. The water was pristine and perfectly reflective; she saw Bonny’s face appear on the surface next to hers, lips pouting and brow furrowed.
“Aren’t you?” she asked. “Isn’t that what you’ve done since you got here? Ran around an’ tried to solve our problems for us? Some folk take to thinkin’ you think we can’t handle ourselves.”
Her reflection’s eyes turned to Rarity. “You think I can’t handle myself.”
Rarity took a petite breath and continued to stare into the dark, azure waters of the pool. “Did you lead me here just so we could have this conversation?”
“Maybe.” Bonny turned away and trotted a ways down the shore, to the edge of Rarity’s light. “But that don’t change nothin’ cuz I think it’s high time we had it. You need to admit what’s really goin’ on here. You’re fixin’ to get us out of the way. To find some fancy magical solution so you can take all the credit for fixing everything.”
“Strong words,” Rarity said, unimpressed, “but I came out here of my own accord, Bonny. Your accusations are growing tiresome.”
Bonny pivoted and pointed a hoof at Rarity. “Not half so much as the fact that you won’t admit why you really came out here! This town ain’t the charity case you think it is! An’ it sure ain’t some pet project you can use to impress your boyfriend back there!”
Rarity raised her hoof over her chest. “My… you actually think I’m here just to impress a stallion? What do you take me for? Braeburn is a gentlecolt and I have never once entertained the thought of laying claim to him like you seem to think!”
“Enough with the dodging.” Bonny sneered. “If it weren’t for Braeburn, you’d never have paid us any mind. If any other pony, any other, came an’ asked you for help, would ya’ll have given it so readily?” Rarity’s ears flicked back and her eyes darted to the side, hiding from the sight of Bonny as she advanced. “That’s it, isn’t it?” the apple farmer hissed triumphantly. “I can tell a pony who lies to herself when I see one. Just say it! Why’s it so gosh darn hard for ponies like you to just say it?”
Rarity bit her lower lip, choking down the bilious words she had saved up for Bonny. She wanted to shout. She wanted to rave and sputter and shoot back with all kinds of saved-up insults, to tear down the prideful and puffed-up cowpony who was just so insistent on being as rude and unhelpful as she could. If anypony deserved a good tongue lashing, she thought, it was Bonny, here and now.
But then she glanced at her reflection in the water. The Rarity staring back at her wouldn’t sink to lows like that again, not after all the trouble it got her into before. The Rarity in the water was a lady… and so was the Rarity who stood on the shore. And a lady knew when she was beat. So why did the words feel like grinding stones between her teeth?
“All right,” she whispered, her voice crackling like dry leaves in autumn, “I admit it, Bonny. What brought me here was Braeburn. At least at first. But I fail to see how that changes anything.”
“It means you don’t care about this town. Not in the way he does, at least. Or I do. You may think it, Rarity, but you don’t mean it. Not in your heart of hearts. Nopony what comes out here actually knows what we know, or feels how we feel. You didn’t plant so much as a cactus in this town an’ now you’re supposed to decide our destiny? You can’t even figure out your own.”
The last jab hit deeper than Rarity liked. Her spine stiffened as her ears went flat. Heat rushed to her face, clouded her thoughts. The anger from before came rushing back to the surface, fearful not that she wouldn’t prove Bonny wrong, but that deep down she was right. It was like an old wound being peeled open. “What are you implying?”
“I remember the last time you came here,” Bonny sneered, boldly advancing, her chest puffed out as far as it would go. “You an’ your ‘friends’ who just made everything worse. I remember how you flailed around, tryin’ to make things better without our input or consent. Admit it: the whole thing was smooth sailin’ until your efforts mucked it all up. I built this town with my own two hooves, Rarity, an’ I’ll be a son of a mule afore anypony goes an’ makes my town their cutie mark project!”
She was only a few steps away now, forcing Rarity back, back until her flanks touched the cold stone of the wall, until their eyes were so close neither of them could see anything but each other. Rarity’s mind rushed, her breathing quickened as she finally felt herself lose patience. Bonny’s words awoke memories long since buried of humiliation, of failure to achieve her dreams, of a pompous prince at a fairy tale ball stepping all over her carefully constructed fantasies.
“Miss Big Special Hero of Harmony, come to save the little folk! You’re not here to help us,” Bonny hissed, “you’re here to help yourself. To your self-pity for failing before, to your own sense of self-entitlement, an’ especially to a stallion named Braeburn!”
Crack!
Bonny reeled backwards, an angry mark on her cheek where Rarity’s hoof struck. She gritted her teeth, Rarity saw her eyes water just a bit, and then she planted her hooves and steadied herself. She spat.
“Puh. Not so much a lady after all, are you?” she whispered.
Rarity was on her like a cat on a mouse, her face scrunched up tight with righteous anger. Bonny actually gasped and stepped back till her hooves splashed in the water.
“Was that your big plan?” Rarity asked. “To try and drag me down to your level? Is that all this ever was, Bona Fide? All some huge scheme just to try and make me lose my patience, to drag me off some false pedestal you think I’ve put myself on? If so, then I am not angry, and I am not ashamed. I am disappointed in you. I am disappointed that I believed you were a decent pony who had her reasons for acting how she did, but instead all I find is a petulant, bullying child who just can’t stand to be given an outside opinion!”
Bonny’s eye twitched. Clearly, she hadn’t expected this out of Rarity.
Rarity seized the opportunity and pressed forward. "You cannot tell me what I can and can't hope for, Bona Fide, and I think it appalling that you would ask me to justify my desires to you, of all ponies. I came here to be your friend. To help Appleloosa. Yes, at the start, it was Braeburn, who by the way is a perfect gentlecolt whose mere acquaintance I am glad to have, but if you're going to stand there and tell me that I'm not at least trying to save your town, you've got another thing coming, sister!"
“I did not come all this way to see everything that I built get swept out from under me!” Bonny shouted back in a voice that was distinctly lacking her usual Appleloosan accent, replaced by something else entirely. Rarity’s mouth hung open dumbly, her mind still trying to put a name on what she thought she heard. That new voice Bonny used—it reminded her of a cheeky filly Sweetie Belle and her friends knew from out of town, she’d seen her not long ago at the—
"ENOUGH!" another voice screeched, echoing up and down the walls. It was not Braeburn or Strongheart, and it was not friendly. The grating shout caused both mares to nearly jump out of their skins and almost crash into each other in a panic.
Out stomped a hulking Diamond Dog, clutching his ears and grinding his teeth. "Stop it, stop it both of you!" he rasped. "Squeaky pony voices making everyone uncomfortable! It hurts, it hurts! Just shut up!"
He swung out with one of his massive paws, striking the ground and cleaving a frighteningly large divot into the solid earth. Rarity and Bonny jumped back in fright, barely able to think, let alone reply.
The Dog pointed at them with a dirty claw. "We knew ponies were trouble. We knew ponies would come bother us. They always do. Stomping around our tunnels, making a racket. We watched you and listened while you crawled through our tunnels, no permission, no gifts! Well now Dogs have something to say, and ponies will listen!"
He lifted his head and let loose with an ear-splitting howl. From the walls echoed the scrape of claws on stone, and from in front and behind a dozen more Dogs tumbled out from their warrens like oversized termites. The two ponies closed ranks as they were surrounded, with Rarity standing tall and lifting her horn so they could see it. Any Diamond Dog with half a brain (though she wasn't sure many of them even had that much) should know a unicorn was a dangerous opponent. She was too busy counting Dogs and trying to keep them at bay to look at Bonny, but she did feel the other mare shudder beside her.
"Now now," she said quickly and clearly, "let's not start somethng we'll all regret. We ponyfolk did not come here to fight."
"No," said the Dog who had spoken before, "no fight, because you go!" He reared up to his full height, towering nearly as tall as a buffalo. His wiry muscles were stretched like taut iron over his bony frame—Rarity saw the faint outline of his ribs in the glow of her horn. His chalk-grey fur was matted and tangled like she expected, but it seemed almost haggard. He wore a dusty old poncho and a sombrero sat askew on his head.
"No ," he repeated, pointing his claw at them. It shook with either excitement or anxiety. "I am the alpha of this pack. Named Ruff! I talk and everyone listens. This place is for Dust Dogs now! Ponies will leave, and, and never come back, yes?"
“Wait,” Bonny said. “Dust Dogs? Ain’t ya’ll called Diamond Dogs?”
“Ha!” Ruff barked. “Ponies show they know nothing! We are Dust Dogs because we live here with the dust. We choose the open spaces. We run across the sun-dried sand and we do not tire or dry out. Diamond Dogs are dirty and ugly. They do not know what it means to see the sun anymore. Dust Dogs left, got new clothes, better clothes! That makes us the best.”
Rarity glanced at the rest of his pack. They wore the same ramshackle armor and tattered rags as the first group that tried to enslave her, but with a distinctly ‘Western’ twist, with handkerchiefs around their necks and antiquated lanterns hanging from their belts. A few of them had ten-gallon hats that scraped the ceiling. Their weapons were similarly crude; most of them brandished stone spears, and… Rarity looked closer. There were slingshots stuffed into their belts, and long thin sticks with something wound around them from end to end.
“Are those… rubber band guns?” she asked aloud before she could stop herself.
“Yes!” the head Dog barked proudly. “We have learned much from the ponies who live in the desert. We have taken their ways and their weapons, and with them we have grown strong! Some of us can shoot twenty bands a minute—leaves nasty welts from fifty paces away!”
Rarity glanced back at Bonny, who only shrugged helplessly.
"We heard ya'll've been harrassin' the buffalo," Bonny said, tossing her mane. "Or meant to. Either way this is Appleloosa territory, an' the buffalo are with us!"
"That is right!" Strongheart yelled from the tunnel behind Rarity. She and Braeburn stomped out with their three escorts following close behind. "If we are going to talk, then we will speak as one tribe!"
"Nopony needs to get their dander up!" Braeburn called out, galloping alongsideStrongheart, shouldering himself past Bonny and Rarity, putting himself in the center of attention. Rarity's throat tightened as he spoke. "We aren't here to make a fuss. Just wanted to talk. Suss out ya'll's intentions, maybe come to an understandin' like we did with our buffalo pals here. This land's big enough for all of us."
"Pals?” Ruff chuffed, slamming the ground with his paws. He lurched towards Braeburn and blasted hot air from his nostrils, making the stallion's mane flutter. Braeburn didn't flinch. "Pals?" Ruff sneered. "Why are ponies saying that word, pals? Ponies not pals! Ponies lazy and mean! Call us Dogs bad names. Chase us from our home. Ponies not pals with Dogs." He glanced up at Strongheart, baring his teeth. "And buffalo smell weird."
One of the buffalo escorts snorted and stomped the ground. "Don't be insulting Little Strongheart, eh? She smells better than ten of you put together!"
“I should hope so,” Strongheart muttered.
Ruff spat at her hooves. “There is nothing that you can offer us. Leave now!”
“A-hem!” Rarity exclaimed in a high-pitched yelp. The awful noise bounced from ceiling to floor and rolled across the lake until it came back in a twisted echo, silencing every other voice and scratching at the eardrums. Rarity smirked as every Dog in the room flinched and clapped their paws over their ears.
"My deepest apologies for interrupting, but I do so hate seeing an opportunity for constructive conversation wasted,” she said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am miss Rarity. Charmed, I'm sure." She made a dainty curtsy. Ruff shrugged and dug out one of his ears with a claw.
"Ehhh," he said, glancing nervously back and forth. Rarity knew he didn’t want to upset her and bring back the awful noise.
"It's good that we are all assembled here," Rarity said with a swish of her tail and a fancy flick of her mane, "because we are all aggrieved parties in need of a settlement of terms to overcome our proclivity for hostility. Am I right?"
Ruff looked at his fellow Dogs, who looked at each other, and then were lost when they had no one else to look at. Ruff turned back to Rarity and tapped his chin.
"What is 'aggrieved'?" he asked.
Rarity deflated with a loud sigh, trying to ignore Bona Fide's condescending snort. If she couldn't impress them with florid speech, she must try and speak their language.
"We're here to get to know you," she said, making sure to inject a healthy amount of patience and neutrality into her voice. "To find common ground, to..." She bit her lip, looking up and down the cave for help. Ponies and buffalo made a herd, bunches of dogs made...
"A pack!" she chirped, immediately wincing at how her voice echoed sharply off the still water. "We are here to give everyone the protection of one big, happy pack. Of course you, you big, strong, swarthy canine," she purred, giving one of Ruff's burly arms a few taps of her hoof, "would know all about keeping the peace between packs, yes? We want only to give you the respect you so obviously deserve."
Ruff rubbed his arm and put his ears flat down on his head, halfway between embarrassed and flattered, which was just one step away from being putty in Rarity's hooves. She suppressed a little squeal and went on. "Clearly you've such a good grasp of what it is to lead, to bring your people to prosperity. I mean just look at this!" She swept a hoof over the vista of the underground lake. "Fresh water and all the gems you can sniff out. I am impressed!"
Ruff grumbled something to himself about having a good nose for gems and nodded, demurring to one side. "Is a good place for dogs, yes," he rasped. "We like it here. And we will not let ponies take what is ours!" He balled his paw into a fist. Braeburn, Strongheart, and Bonny all tensed.
Rarity merely set a hoof gently on his outstretched paw and pushed it down. "No one would ever dream of taking this place from you," she said with gentle sincerity, and in truth, the thought of chasing them out never crossed her mind. This close, she saw the way Ruff hunched over himself, hiding his sunken belly and exposed ribs, the telltale signs of hunger and desperation. Pity swelled inside her, but she still pulled out a rag and wiped off her hoof. "But a good alpha would know that to be able to get things from without requires taking some things in. Finding true peace doesn’t just mean hiding in here forever.”
Ruff swiveled away from Rarity, pacing in front of his dogs. “Pony cannot just walk in here and tell us what to do!” he snarled, then stopped in place and arched his back. “But… pony does have a point. Dogs cannot hide. Will not hide. But we will not be friends, either. Dust Dogs have all we need.”
Rarity flicked her ear curiously.
“Pony should see,” Ruff said, suddenly growing a little smirk. “Did not think we Dust Dogs just found water, did we?”
“Didn’t we?” asked one of the dogs in back, who was quickly shushed.
Ruff slashed his paw through the air. “Silence! Ponies are intruders and will have nothing from us! And you!” He pointed straight at Rarity. “You come here with your buffalo muscle and annoying squeaky voices! Can offer us nothing we do not already have. Came to steal from us, more like!”
"Hold up there, partner," said Braeburn. He had that easygoing, disarming smile on his face he used on her the night they first spoke at the Apple family's reunion. It still made her somewhat weak in the knees.
"I may not know much about nothin', up to and including gems and politics, but I do know you're makin' a sore misjudgment of character here. None of us are here to do anything but make friends, and my good friend Rarity is top notch when it comes to fairness and good deals."
"Ha!" barked Ruff, leaning forward so the tip of his sombrero bumped Braeburn's hat. "Why should we trust what you say? All ponies are here for is to make themselves look better."
Braeburn continued to smile. "Mister Ruff sir, there aren't many ponies that already look better than Miss Rarity, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, we showed up here and willingly put ourselves at your mercy! Is that the act of a bunch a' violent-minded thieves? Naw, we're here to figure out what's good for all of us, right? Nopony wants to start a scuffle here."
Rarity self-consciously rubbed the hoof she'd used to smack Bonny, who had the sense not to make any smart-aleck remarks.
"As the representative of Chief Thunderhoof and all his tribe, I tell you now that we do not seek to begin conflicts—we are here to end them before they arise," Strongheart added from behind Braeburn; she and her two buffalo made sure to stand just so as to loom over the stallion's shoulders and lend their considerable weight to her words.
There was a determination to their eyes that Rarity hadn't seen before. It gave her chills. Apparently even Ruff's simple mind picked up on the veiled threat, and though he grumbled and growled and sent dirty looks their way, he didn't lash out at them.
"Look me in the eyes," said Braeburn, "and tell me I'm lying."
Ruff snorted and turned away.
"Wouldn't give you the satisfaction!" he snapped over his shoulder. "Very well! Ruff will turn over his stones. You will see what has lain beneath your hooves, ponies, and you will understand that coming here was a waste of time." He gestured for his minions to fall in behind him. "Come! Take the ponies. Come, come!"
Rarity trotted up to Braeburn and gave him a congratulatory hip-bump.
"That was wonderful," she said.
"Learned from the best," Braeburn replied with a wink.
Rarity fell in with the others, sticking close to Braeburn who stayed at her shoulder. They shared worried looks as the Dust Dogs closed ranks around them and led them around the lake, into another tunnel and through a long stretch of blackness. Rarity sensed a distinct change in the air; her horn shimmered with energy as shifting currents teased it. The volume of gems she was detecting spiked rapidly, with whole veins shimmering from the walls. The Dust Dogs ooh’d and ahh’d as they realized they were witnessing unicorn magic, and some of them gave Rarity greedy looks she much rathered they didn’t. For trying to relabel themselves, the Dust Dogs were certainly living down to the stereotype of their brethren.
“It’s so rich down here,” she whispered to Braeburn. “Did anypony know about this place?”
“We had no idea,” he answered. “This is news to me.”
The tunnel widened abruptly, and Rarity found the light of the gems starting to be subsumed by a brighter light from the end of the tunnel. There was the noise of rumbling carts and the barking of dogs, along with the crack of pickaxes and rocks cloven in two. She squinted as the light grew brighter quite suddenly, and she realized they’d exited the tunnel into a wide open space.
“Behold!” Ruff called over his shoulder. “The great work of Dust Dogs!”
Rarity knew if in that moment she happened to see Ruff’s face, he would be the picture of vanity: all grins and sniggers and puffing of his chest. But she was too distracted by what she saw beyond Ruff’s bulk: a wide, arching ceiling that stretched almost into darkness, soaring over a great cavern almost as big as the reservoir behind them, with pillars of rock reaching from top to bottom. Stalagmites run through with veins of crystal and agate drooped down from the roof of the cave.
Against one wall she saw a watermill, turned by the flow of a large stream carved into the floor of the cavern, rushing away down another tunnel to parts unknown. It powered a conveyer belt that dumped containers of gemstones and dirt into waiting wagons, which Dust Dogs hauled off to be cleaned and inspected. And everywhere, everywhere were the gems: gems of every size, shape, and color, piled high in every free space, calling to Rarity with the siren sound of their whispering magical chimes. She watched the Dust Dogs dutifully cracking the stone apart, finding geodes as large as her head and opening them like fruit, crawling out like ants from side tunnels dug all around the cavern walls, bearing more cartloads of the precious stone. She saw precious clusters of amethyst, diamonds blooming like flowers, fragile tendrils of halite reaching like fingers from the ground, all of them shining in the light of torches and the resonance of her own horn, and it was all just too much, too beautiful.
It was a crime, she thought, a crime that such a vast treasure trove of wealth and beauty would be picked at and poked and carried off by the vicious, unwashed paws of Dogs, either Diamond or Dust - why, it was analogous to when they decided to cart her off like so much luggage!
"Well tan my hide," said Braeburn, removing his hat and putting it on his chest. "If that ain't the most incredible thing I ever did see."
"We never knew," said Bonny. "All this time an' we never knew." Her gaze was fixed, calculating, refusing to be impressed or intimidated.
"Ponies do not dig deep," Ruff growled. "They scrabble on the surface. They make war with the earth and subdue it. We Dust Dogs... we live in it. We followed the Rock's veins and discovered its lifeblood. We drew it out, we did. Both water and gems. We made the lake. We dug these mines. We will fill these hills with our own."
"This place must have been the site of ancient volcanic activity," Rarity mused, nodding. "Or some great confluence of magic in some ancient time."
"But this many gems can fill ten thousand teepees," Strongheart blurted out. "And the water of the aquifer can feed ten thousand trees. The ponies would want this land as much as you."
Ruff shouldered roughly past her, drawing an angry snort from her escorts. "They already took it, but they cannot keep it. I have seen this. The ponies fight over this desert, against buffalo, against Dogs, against other ponies! We Dust Dogs work together. When you all are gone, destroyed by your own blindness, we will remain. Yes."
"Not for long, I think," Rarity said under her breath, eyeing the Dogs at work. To a tee, they were gaunt and malnutritioned, swinging their pickaxes with less enthusiasm and more frustration. There were not nearly enough bodies to make this cavern feel full - each dog must be doing the work of three to make up for it.
Ruff didn't seem to notice and raised his paws up in a supplicating gesture, eyeing the vast treasure trove with a tinge of obsessive pride. "The Rock has given us much. Water! Gems! A home! And ponies can have none of it. You see what we do, how we do it better, how Dust Dogs are better than everyone else! We have the gems. We have the water." He looked over his shoulder, baring his teeth. "You? You only have the dust. And soon, that too will be ours."
"But mister Ruff, sir," said Braeburn, still holding his hat respectfully to his chest, "that's... kinda what we're here for. To see what we can do together. All this... what're ya'll gonna do with it? I mean, you'll drink the water, obviously, but I know for a fact a lotta ponies will pay handsomely for gems like these."
"Indeed!" Rarity chirped. She felt herself slip into the role of creative consultant all too easily now that she had an area of expertise to expound on. She couldn't resist fluffing her mane. "I am something of a connoisseur of gems, and I know a thing or two about their use in thaumaturgy and beautification. Arcane foci, spell catalysts, and that's not even counting how all of this will practically revolutionize clothing lines for years to come!"
Ruff gawked at her. Like a salespony who felt a deal in reach, or perhaps a trapper who heard the jaws of a trap spring shut, Rarity went on, heedless of Braeburn and the rapid-fire hoof cutting across his throat.
She trotted over to a large pile one of the Dust Dogs had just finished unloading a cart onto, plucking up a cluster of silver ore. "Why, these beauties alone could be stretched into a grand filigree, or perhaps even line the hem of a ball gown. No, wait! They'd do wonders to bring out the sparkle in the eyes if they were somehow adapted into a hat!"
The ore was smacked out of her hoof. She let out a squeal and looked up into Ruff's glowering face.
"Gowns?!" he said. "Hats?! Does pony think we are stupid? Do Dust Dogs look like we need thaumagogs and catafists? No! Dust Dogs need gems. We have gems. And ponies will leave so we have gems, water, and land!"
Rarity cradled her hoof, waiting out the tantrum and berating herself. Ruff was right, of course - the blow had jostled loose the gem-shaped fool idea in her head and got her back on track, as much as it stung to admit it. Besides that, the sting reminded her of the slap she'd given Bonny, and that more than anything else quieted her temper. "You... are correct. My apologies," she said evenly. "I got carried away. Gems are a passion of mine, and I'd hate to see them go to waste. Just as you would not want all this hard work to go to waste, hmm?"
Ruff opened his mouth to answer when Rarity heard a sound she dreaded more than any Dust Dog's rasping voice: Bonny had joined the argument.
"You're darn right it'll go to waste if ya'll just sit on it!" she said, stomping foward with her hat tilted down over her eyes. "What kinda silly plan is that, just showing us all this an' tellin' us to skedaddle? Least Rarity here is actually thinkin' of what to make of all this. You folk are so concerned with just grabbin' what you want you can't think of what'll happen once you get it."
Rarity cleared her throat loudly over Ruff's impatient growl. Over Bonny's shoulder Braeburn's hoof was a blur as he swung it back and forth over his neck as fast as he could. "Thank you for the support, Bonny, but I think ideas and creativity are what's needed now instead of hostility."
"I think all the ideas in the world aren't gonna salvage this," Bonny fumed, pointing up at the gem hoard as she came face-to-face with Ruff. "This overgrown mutt hasn't shown us nothin’ we couldn’t have found on our own, an' I don't care for his sabre-rattlin' much either. This is a dragon's ransom they dug up here; nopony's just gonna look at this an' walk away, least of all us. What, we're supposed to just keel over an' scurry off because you're so dang good at digging? Give an earth pony a shovel an' we could do twice the work in half the time."
"Pony should watch her tongue," Ruff said, rearing up to his full height. "Or pony may lose it."
Bonny spat on the ground. "I ain't afraid of you, you overgrown house pet, an' neither is Appleloosa. You want these gems so much? You can keep 'em. But Appleloosa will not an' never just leave because you think you can hold all this over our heads. That was your plan, right? We built a town, so you show off your little cave an' prove you're so much better than us. Well phooey on that, an' phooey on you, I say. Royal Guard done chased you out before, so maybe we should—"
"Bonny!" Braeburn said, taking her by the hoof and guiding her back, out of range of Ruff's curled fists. "Have you gone plum crazy?" Rarity heard him say before they sunk into an animated conversation of rapid hoof gestures and hissed whispers.
Ruff doubled over, wheezing, shoulders shaking. At first Rarity thought it was a cough, but then she saw the smile on his face, and realized it was laughter.
"Ponies are just as Ruff thought. Silly and impatient. Pony thought she knew Dust Dogs!" Ruff said between gasping chortles. "But pony thought wrong. Dust Dogs want for nothing. We have all we need and all that ponies and buffalo want. Only thing left is for ponies to go—that is all Ruff needs to be happy."
Rarity's thoughts were in a whirl. It was all happening too fast - this wasn't a negotiation, it was a guided tour of the Dust Dogs' arrogance and hatred. She hadn't achieved anything by coming here except to learn how deep their malice went. A sense of creeping doom fell upon her as the same frustration and anger of the town hall meeting came to the forefront of her mind. "But wait!" she said desperately. "You must admit, Ruff, you must admit that we're right. What will you do when we've gone? When the apple trees are rotting? When and if the buffalo never speak to you again? You thought you saved your people by coming here, but if you just hide all of this down in caves like all the other Diamond Dogs you will achieve nothing. A dragon may gather a mighty hoard, but he can never move or grow or live. There's nothing to live on here. You’re starving; without seeds or anything else to grow you’ll have to leave again. Anypony can see that."
A rubber band twanged and pinged the ground at her hooves. Strongheart and her escorts surrounded Rarity in a heartbeat, threatening with their horns.
"Pony will tell no more lies," Ruff said, crossing his arms. “Dust Dogs will take care of themselves.”
"We aren't welcome anymore," said Strongheart. "Come on, Rarity."
"But—"
"Now," Strongheart snapped, and Rarity flinched at the iron in her voice.
"Coulda toldja this was a bad idea,” Bonny grumbled. “Ain’t never shoulda come here.”
“But we have to work something out!” Rarity whimpered. “If we don’t then all of this—”
“Rarity.”
She turned and found Braeburn staring at her.
“I’m sorry," he said. "I really am. But… we really should go.”
Rarity watched her friends and Bonny turn away, defeat or disgust on their faces. She turned to Ruff one last time.
“Then promise us this!” she said. “Don’t hurt anyone. Buffalo or pony. We won’t take a single gem. A single drop of water.”
“Rarity,” Bonny said, but Braeburn shushed her.
“I will do my best to ensure Appleloosa sticks to their end of the deal and never bothers you without your consent again.”
“Rarity!” Bonny barked louder, but Ruff just laughed.
As Rarity and the others were herded away, she saw his yellowed teeth glimmering in the light of the gemstones as he grinned. It was a smile as sharp and gnarled as his canines. "Wasn't planning on it. But if Ruff must promise, then Ruff promises. You will stay in your town. Dogs will not hurt you. And that is the end of it. Remember what you saw, ponies, and remember that you can never have it. Goodbye."
----
The oppressive heat and glaring sunlight had a tangible weight to it as the sullen group was evicted unceremoniously from the Dust Dog caverns. Rarity felt the sting of defeat, the venom of resignation coursing through her bloodstream, making her limbs heavy and her own mane and fur coat stifling. She hopped up on the wagon as the buffalo strapped themselves in again and sat next to Braeburn with a sigh, wishing only to be back in her bed. All of a sudden her stylish parasol looked idiotic hanging off the top of the wagon, her makeup felt oily and garish like some pasty second skin. The grit of sand was especially nerve-wracking in her fur. Everything felt pointlessly cruel and needlessly superfluous.
Including, it felt, herself. This was supposed to be a triumphant return. Instead, they would go back to town with nothing really new to show for their efforts, for Rarity's grand plan, for the future of Appleloosa. In spite of Braeburn's chivalry, in spite of the best efforts at negotiation by herself, the Dogs had shrugged off all attempts at friendship.
She met Braeburn's uncomfortable stare, desperate to comfort her and yet desperate to put into words how ultimately the trip had been a failure.
"Don't look so glum," she said with a smile that barely reached her cheeks, let alone the rest of her. She touched his cheek with her hoof. "You were marvelous in there."
"Don't really feel like it," Braeburn muttered. "I just... it feels so pointless, you know? Knowin' we came all the way out here hopin' for somethin' new and then... then all this..."
"You can go ahead an' say it," Bonny grumped. "We didn't need to do this in the first place."
"Nothing happens without reason," Strongheart said, though her smile was of one who didn't quite believe her own words. "We did find some things out."
"Yeah, like how Dust Dogs are basically big smelly hairballs, eh?" joked one of her escorts.
Rarity grabbed onto the words like a buoy at sea, even if they were not so much positive as they were not-quite-negative. "Yes," she said, lifting her head, refusing to be drawn into the morass of her own self-pity as she had so many times before. "Yes, we did learn something!" she said with more conviction. If she said it enough it might feel true. "Little Strongheart is right. We secured a non-aggression pact between our respective parties - such as it was - and we have discovered that this land has more to offer than even Appleloosa first thought. Water and gemstones the likes of which nopony imagined. The Dust Dogs think we can be disheartened and turn away because they found it first, but they don't know what we can give them."
Every word spoken was like a balloon, carrying away the crushing awkwardness. She dared to turn Braeburn's way and found him staring, curious, desperate for something to smile about.
"What's that?" he wondered.
"Well, food for starters," Rarity deadpanned. "Did nopony but me notice how skinny and underfed those poor creatures looked? No wonder they are so desperate—they must think the world is out to get them and the only way to provide for themselves is to take it from others. If you offer them a share of your apple crops-"
"Hold up!" Bonny snapped. "If word gets out we're givin' part of our crops to these fellas, an’ on top of that just lettin’ them have all the water and gems they can stuff their faces with, what're we supposed to tell them bigwigs comin' down to visit us? That we're parlayin' with thieves an' vagabonds, lettin’ ‘em run roughshod all over our land?"
"Which you assumed the buffalo were at first," Rarity said. Her prickly tone forced Bonny to look away, shaking her mane so her bangs fell over her eyes.
"Ain't up to you who we share with," she grumbled. "Town council's not gonna be happy."
"And we still have the exhibition coming up," said Braeburn. He pulled his hat down and ran a hoof through his mane, damp with nervous sweat. "That ain't gonna be an easy sell. With them Dust Dogs cloggin' up our thoughts, ponies'll get nervous. We need our heads in the game. Those rich folk won’t play nice. It’ll be like hawks goin’ after doves."
"Then," said Rarity, primping her mane, "it is well you have a few hawks of your own.”
Bonny just grunted, nonplussed, and looked away again.
“I am sorry this was not more productive, Rarity,” Strongheart sighed. “It seems that lessons of friendship and Harmony are harder learned than lessons of hatred, at least where the Dust Dogs are concerned.”
“Don’t give it a second thought, dear. We must look ahead. Always we must look ahead,” Rarity said distractedly, staring at Bonny’s back. Bonny, who refused help and did her best to spoil Rarity’s efforts, who lived alone, who hid another voice from the big city—Manehattan perhaps—beneath the gruff accent of Appleloosa, who even now preferred to look over her shoulder than at the ponies who might help her.
And it occurred to Rarity on the road back that, far from looking ahead, Bonny had been looking over her shoulder for a long, long time.