From the Stallion's Mouth

by DStone39

Chapter 1

From the Stallion’s Mouth

By: Nickel Bristle

Let me tell you a story about ponies here in Appleloosa. Now, you see that these here ponies live a pretty simple life with their farming and living close to the land. Other than the buffalo that once tried to take control of their land, things are pretty peaceful here in Appleloosa. That doesn’t mean that some stallions can’t make up some wild-eyed tale to tell the ponies that stroll on through on their way through the town. And what other place could they go to but the Salt Lick right on the main drag of town, where everypony goes to wet their whistle with whatever they fancy?

Barging through the double-wide saloon doors of the Salt Lick, a blue-maned Pegasus with a smile on his face and a roaring stomach made his way into the watering hole. The regular patrons lurking in the shadows of the room looked on at the newcomer flapping his wings everywhere. One pony in a black hat wasn’t too pleased to see a stray feather from the stallion’s wings land beside him. Slamming his hoof on the table, he snorted and took a long swig from his mug.

Turning over from the bar, a dusty-blonde stallion waved over the new pony to where he was sitting. ”I was wondering if you were ever going to show up here, Soarin’”

Soarin’ sat down at the bar, his stomach still growling as he sniffed the area around his friend. “Is that-?”

The pony nodded, sliding over a pan full of a freshly-baked apple pie. Soarin’s eyes lit up before sticking his muzzle into pan, eating the pie as fast as he could. Slurping and licking the pan clean, he burped and rested a hoof on the pony’s shoulder.

“Thanks Braeburn! You always know just how to pick me up after a long flight from Cloudsdale.” Soarin’ smiled, using a napkin to clean his muzzle.

“Nothing to it, friend!” he replied happily, wincing at the injury on one his forehooves. “It was a real shame that you missed the rodeo though. Heck of a time it was this year!”

“Ah, I’ll catch the next one!” Soarin’ waved off, getting the barkeep’s attention. The older looking stallion from behind the bar, who was wearing a long-sleeved uniform, cleaned one of the glass mugs with a rag.

“What’ll it be, boys?”

“Two sarsaparillas, with extra vanilla.” Braeburn ordered, always having the friendly smile on his face.

“Comin’ right up.” the barkeep said, as he went off to get the drinks. Soarin’ looked over to notice the bandage and sling on his friend’s forehoof.

“Whoa, what happened here?” he asked, accidentally pressing his hoof into the bandaged leg. Braeburn winced and swatted Soarin’s hoof away.

“Oh this? Crazy story, I’ll tell you! It kept me away from the rodeo so I had to get my cousin to take my place. She did a bang up job, though.” Braeburn lifted his hoof as the barkeep brought the two drinks to the stallions at the bar. “Put it on my tab, okay?”

The barkeep nodded, as he went off to clean more of the dirtied mugs. Soarin’ took a long sip of his drink, leaving behind a foamy mustache on his muzzle. Wiping away the foam, he set the drink back down.

“What, you mean the one with the poofy pink mane?”

“Huh? What are you talking about? I said my cousin, you know? Applejack?” Braeburn corrected, giving Soarin’ a strange look as he slowly sipped from his mug.

“Oh, the one with the apples! Yeah, I remember a filly talking about her before.” he thought to himself, taking another sip of the sarsaparilla.

“You know, you could also remember when I talk to you about my family, you big air-head.”

“But you have like so many cousins, dude! It’s hard to keep track of every apple whatsit.”

“Well, what about your family?” Braeburn asked.

“Don’t have any.” Soarin replied nonchalantly.

“I find that very hard to believe. Don’t Pegasi have really strong family bonds or whatever?”

“Nah, your parents pretty much kick you out and tell you to fly. Fortunately for me, it landed me a spot right on the Wonderbolts!”

“So you do have a mother and father. Then that’s your family!” Braeburn explained, taking a drink from his mug.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I have to talk about them. They’re off doing their own thing. But enough about family, what happened to your hoof?”

“Oh yeah! My leg here. Well, let me tell you all about it…” Braeburn began, setting his mug down on the bar.

---

It was the night right before the first day of the rodeo. I was enjoying a nice drink in here. Tall sarsaparilla with a scoop of ice cream. Something to treat myself after all those days of practice and training.

Braeburn sat at the bar, twirling a spoon in his tall mug for his drink. The Salt Lick looked darker and more menacing at this time of night, with only Luna’s full moon illuminating the room outside of the windows. Almost everypony had left for the night, but the stallion remained, nursing the rest of his float.

But then, wouldn’t you know it, Sheriff Silverstar came busting in with his Sunday spurs, clickety clacking all over the place. His hat was freshly tailored as the moonlight shone off of that shiny sheriff’s badge of his on his vest. Now, I know my place here in Appleloosa when it comes to greeting newcomers and helping out with the harvest. But when I saw that badge that night as the sheriff strolled in…

Braeburn slammed his mug on the bar as he stood up, pointing his hoof right at Sheriff Silverstar. “Fancy seeing you in here, Sheriff!”

The stallion tilted down his hat, peering right at Braeburn. “Just making sure that nopony was causin’ trouble here, boy.”

“Well I’ll tell you what here,” Braeburn continued, trying to use the most threatening voice he could as he trotted up to Silverstar. “Some of the ponyfolk around these parts think that you’re not doing the best job here. Why I just had two brothers come in the other day saying that all you do is sit on the porch of the Sheriff’s office and watch the horse-drawn carts roll on by.”

“Appleloosa is a peaceful town here, boy. I don’t have to do nothin’ if there’s no here trouble.” Silverstar replied, lifting his chin up as he stared straight at the stallion in front of him.

“Well, I think here that I should try a hoof at being here sheriff. What do you say to that, Silverstar?” Braeburn walked right up to him, looking him straight in the eye. Silvestar could smell the longing scent of vanilla on his breath as Braeburn spat out his challenge.

“Name. Your. Game. Boy.” Silverstar replied, a smirk forming across his muzzle as he pressed his hoof into Braeburn’s chest.

“Best hoof of three?” he suggested, nodding over to the empty card table illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

“You got it. I hope that some mare of luck is on your side.” Silverstar shot back at him as he took a seat on the creaky chair at the table.

“I don’t need no mares to teach you a lesson, Sheriff!” Braeburn replied in kind, taking the opposite seat. His hoof rested on the deck of cards as he shuffled up and dealt them out to his opponent. Silverstar looked at his set and then peered over to Braeburn, who was also looking at what his cards held.

“Draw two.” he spat out, pushing two cards face down towards Braeburn. The stallion grumbled as he drew out two cards face down and slid them to Silverstar.

“I’ll take three.” Braeburn announced, laying his three face down as he picked up three new cards.

“Pair of eights!” Silverstar announced, laying his hand on the table.

“King high,” he said dejected, revealing the cards in his set. Silverstar smiled at the win.

“One-nothing.” he stated, taking the cards in the deck with his hoof. He shuffled them up and dealt them out, looking carefully at Braeburn and his cards.

“I’ll take two.” Braeburn said calmly, not to give away his plan. He pushed the two cards towards Silverstar as he drew two new cards.

“One.” Silverstar said coldly, his eyes piercing right at Braeburn over the flickering candle. The stallion audibly gulped, worried about the outcome. Looking down at his set, he laid his cards on the table.

“Pair of jacks.”

“Triple 3’s.” Silverstar stated, showing the stronger set on the table. He chuckled as Braeburn begrudgingly took the deck of cards and shuffled them up. Dealing them on the table, he began to sweat from his forehead.

“Draw two.” Silverstar asked, pushing the discarded cards to Braeburn. Braeburn drew the new cards and slid them over face down. Looking down at this set, he sighed.

“Four.” he said, discarding almost his entire set as he drew four new cards.

“Pair of queens!” Silverstar laid the cards down. Braeburn coughed, looking at his set. Realizing what he had, the smile returned.

“Triple kings!” Braeburn shouted, grinning at the sheriff.

“Two-one. You’re still toast, boy.” Silverstar commented, taking the cards in his hoof as he shuffled. Both of the ponies glanced at each other as the cards were dealt.

“Gimme two.” Braeburn said confidently, discarding the cards as Silverstar dealt him the new ones.

“I’ll take two as well.” he repeated, discarding and drawing the new cards.

“Three aces!” Braeburn slammed his cards on the table as he smiled to Silverstar.

“Three queens and two jacks. Full house.” he replied in kind, tapping the table. “That’s three, amigo.”

Braeburn yelled out as his foreleg slammed against the table, holding his hoof in front of Silverstar. “Hoof wrastle! Right here! Right now.”

“Don’t embarrass yourself, boy.” Silverstar remarked.

“What are ya? Chicken?” he shot back, a smirk crawling across his face. Silverstar glared at him.

“You gonna wish you hadn’t had done that, boy.” he sat down, grabbing Braeburn’s hoof in his.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!” Braeburn announced, pulling all of his strength to his side. The two seemed evenly matched as they struggled, leaning back and forth. Braeburn began to sweat more from his brow as Silverstar kept his cool. His hoof wavered as Braeburn pushed harder, getting closer and closer to being pinned.

“All or nothin’, Sheriff. Come on, just admit that you’re out already!” Braeburn groaned, getting into the spirit of the competition. Silverstar’s hoof shook closer and closer to the table as his expression became more serious.

“You shouldn’t let your guard down, boy.” he remarked, pulling more of his strength back in his hoof. The two were evenly matched as sweat dripped from Braeburn’s forehead. He closed his eyes as Silverstar’s hoof started to get the upper hoof.

Before he knew it, Silverstar slammed his hoof into the table with a resounding crack as Braeburn writhed in pain. Standing up from the table, Braeburn grabbed his broken foreleg as Silverstar wiped his brow.

“I trust that you know your place now, boy.” Silverstar commented, tilting his hat as Braeburn went limp with exhaustion in his seat. Without another word, he trotted over to the exit, leaving the pony in the dark of the room with nothing his pride and 52 cards spread across the floor.

---

“And that’s the story of how I couldn’t participate in the rodeo. That there Sheriff really did a number on me that night. But one day, I’ll be able to show him what’s what. You can count on that.” Braeburn finished up as Soarin’ put down his mug.

“Well, the more power to you dude. Listen, I gotta hit the road. Keep doing what you gotta do!” he said as he waved to Braeburn, making his way to the exit. Braeburn sighed as he took another sip of his drink, watching his friend fly out the door.

Right before taking off, Soarin’s eye caught sight of the same Sheriff Silverstar from Braeburn’s story. “Hey mister!”

“Why, yes, what can I do for ya?” Silverstar asked, pulling on his vest to show off his badge.

“I heard that a stallion named Braeburn challenged you for your position and you left his foreleg in pretty bad shape. Don’t you feel that was a bit much for one of your top rodeo participants?” he asked, having a completely different picture in mind for the sheriff.

“Sakes alive, did he tell you that?” Silverstar exclaimed, pulling off his hat to wipe his forehead. “The reason for that boy’s injury did involve me that night, but it wasn’t no intense hoof wrastle or anythin’. See, Braeburn there had may a few too many vanilla floats and he tripped over a chair stumbling to me and sprained his hoof. It’s not broken or anythin’.”

“Really? Man, that’s a relief.” Soarin’ said with a smile.

“It’s not like he could be Sheriff anyways. The title has been with my family for generations. But I’m sure you could have guessed. that.”

Soarin’ glanced back at the Salt Lick, but then just shrugged and looked back at Silverstar.

“Well thanks for clearing that up! I’ll see you around Sheriff!” Soarin waved goodbye as he flew back to Cloudsdale.

“No problem, son!” Silverstar replied, shaking his head. “That Braeburn and his crazy stories. At least we had his cousin to help win the rodeo contests!”

Whistling to himself, Silverstar trotted by the entrance of the Salt Lick where Braeburn was going off on another equally wild story to the stallion that just walked in. He chuckled and went back around his day, looking over the peaceful little town of Appleloosa.

Comments

[DismantledAccount]

The fact that no one has even voted on this story led me here. And let me say, it's very . . . I don't want to be rude by saying it deserves no votes, but I can understand it, considering I didn't give it a vote either. The story just doesn't do a whole lot. It doesn't do much, if anything, wrong—and that's great! But . . . it doesn't do anything right, either. It really doesn't do much of anything, really.

[skurut9999]

6230889

Yeah well thats just like your opinion, man. It was obiously too short to do much but its good enough for current standart of MLP episodes. However I gotta admit that Soarin could very much use more lines and screen time.