Return Home
Bullseye sighed quietly in contentment. Four long years, four long years it has been. Four years since bullets weren't flying overhead, ready and waiting to kill him and his brothers. The trenches had been difficult enough, but then it was the southern changeling rainforest. That was a different kind of warfare, and one that never let him sleep soundly.
But now, it was through, he was through. No longer did he have to worry about being shot or stabbed or caught in a trap. He didn't have to worry about ambush anymore, he didn't have to worry about anything, not now. No, now he dozed as the train chugged along, not quite asleep, not quite awake. But at least he didn't have nightmares, not today, not yet.
Bullseye was a heavy built stallion, his broad shoulders and thick arms having been chiseled into perfect shape by the years of training and exercise, and his features marred in a few places by the many injuries he had received during active duty. He was an earth pony with dark brown coat, his attire was a pair of green cargo pants and a camo shirt. He had a soldier's cap on his head, the front pulled low as was standard soldier's uniform with such hats.
He dozed, and the longer he dozed the closer to sleep he got, that meant flashes, memories, gunfire, smoke, blood. He heard automatic weapons firing, stallions and mares alike screaming in bitter agony as they were filled with bullets and shrapnel, and a voice shouting orders, his voice. It was clear as it was the day they were given.
"Weapons free! Get him to the chopper, go go!"
He fired his weapon, the weapon sent bullets, bodies dropped from the foliage and out of the bushes. His covering fire gave much of his unit time to escape, but not all of them.
Pain, unrelenting, burning pain erupted in his left shoulder. He sat forward screaming, clutching his chest, right where his pec met his shoulder. He sat forward, clutching his chest, not over his heart but over that specific scar. He found it difficult to breathe, but after a few moments to calm himself he sat back, it was over now. He was done.
He was going home. He was ready to have his own bed back, his own kitchen, his own home. He was ready to be home. He kept his mind off of the Changeling War, and on home. He looked around the car, and noticed that there were several veterans aboard. None that he knew personally, but he knew that they were vets because of their clothes. They all wore their uniforms, and they all looked worn out. But they seemed to be happy, for the time being, but he knew that what plagued him also plagued them, noone came home from that place without nightmares.
He kept his mind clear of the past, and empty until he disembarked. Getting off the train he took a deep breath of the fresh town air. It was clean, Ponyville, it was clean, petite and serene. Something he desperately needed.
As he walked through the semi busy but tranquil streets, several ponies saw and greeted him. Some more cheery than others but none were unfriendly. Once he reached his home he walked in and set his bags down, then he sat on his couch and decided to doze for a few moments. Until he heard a knock at his door.
Bullseye got up and walked to the door and found Derpy at the door. "Good afternoon sir, I was asked to give this to you."
Bullseye was handed an envelope and was bidden goodbye. Closing the door and opening the envelope, he read. It was a welcome home party invitation. Welcoming him and the other veterans from Ponyville back home. Of course Pinkie Pie had a party planned and prepared within two seconds.
Chuckling he got some more casual clothing on and left his home. Unpacking would have to wait, if he didn't show up on time for the party he'd wish he'd died in the war. Pinkie Pie would see to that.
He came into Sugarcube Corner at the precise time written on the invitation. His punctuality having been honed by years of training and experience. As he came into the building, the expected explosion of streamers bursting from their confetti cannons came, but no matter how expected they were, his bad experiences with explosions compelled him to dive back out the door and prepare for combat.
After a moment he sheepishly emerged, of course, his embarrassment was soon replaced by panic when Pinkie Pie grabbed his arm, and with strength superior to that of the newest armoured vehicles, pulled him into the middle of the room, surrounded by cheering ponies. There were a few other veterans there, being pulled into the party by Pinkie's supernatural strength.
He was barely aware of what was going on at what time. It was a party, nothing made sense. But he felt something drop into his pocket, and when he felt it it was another envelope. He excused himself to go to the restroom and read the message.
We need your help. Come out front and we'll talk
He didn't know why, but he did as asked. He stealthily wove his way through the crowd of ponies, struggling to avoid the searching eyes of the party planner, who would undoubtedly drag him back in should she see him leave. And he had dealt with more than enough overpowering opposition as it was. And when he got out, in front of him was none other than an old childhood friend of his.
"Blackthorn!" He exclaimed, seizing a hug from the dark coated batpony, which was returned to him in kind.
Blackthorn was an average sized stallion with the respectable profession of being the local ranger, overseeing the protection and keeping of the forests and fields surrounding the town. A very large area to cover. He was fairly muscled thanks to the hands-on involvement of his profession. He wore grey cargo pants with a brown cotton shirt and a broad brimmed hat to keep the sun off of him.
"It's good to see you again Bullseye!" Came the excited response. "It's good to see you're still in one piece."
"It's good to be in one piece." He says with a laugh. "So what was so important?"