Applejack wove around the rocks occasionally slowing to adjust the strap on her musket. According to Wet Whistle the camp wasn't far. It took less than an hour for the gunslinger to crest the rocky hill that overlooked what remained of the cutie thief camp.
She stood there for a while just looking down at the improvised diamond dog settlement. She had wondered how the diamond dogs who took residence in a cutie thief camp manged to get weapons from the Dark King's slave army. It was obvious now, the camp had crystals black as a starless night rising out of the desert soil.
Torn and tattered banners wafted lazily in the desert breeze, along with the aged cloth walls of the tents. The tents themselves were originally positioned so that they resembled the equal sign that adorned the flank of every soldier in the cutie thief army. Several of the tents had collapsed leaving only a pile of sticks and tattered cloth. All the tents except for one were identical, or at least were at one time. In the center of one of the rows was a larger tent, what once would have served as the sleeping quarters for whoever was in command, while also serving as center of operations.
She sat there, just looking at the camp for no less than half an hour. She saw no movement during this time. Which can mean a few things, all the diamond dog activity is underground, or there where no diamond dogs currently in the camp. She didn't want to assume that there wasn't a large number of dogs waiting for her. However, the ground in this area typically isn't suited for tunneling.
Applejack decided that waiting wasn't going to yield any answers, she was going to have to go in and face whatever is in that camp. She stood up, adjusted her musket, then trekked towards the camp.
As she got closer to the camp she saw many sun bleached skeletons who died in battle. Applejack let loose a prayer to Celestia, wherever she may be. Sadness leaked into her soul, knowing they died for no reason, and she couldn't bury them all. Which was even truer now that she finally had a lead on one of her friends.
It was a strange feeling walking upon a site of battle. Growing up she had never even known of any existing battlegrounds, now she can't help but come across them frequently. The damage to the landscape, the memories, the stories, and the scars in ponies minds will all go on for many generations. Applejack's bones will have long since turned to dust by the time this fades to legend, and things may go back to proper peace.
As she encroached upon the diamond dog settlement, she tried to go from cover to cover behind the pillars and outcroppings of black crystals.
She approached the edge of the camp on the outside wall of a tent on the end she looked down the center of the encampment. She couldn't see anything, nor could she hear anything. If she wasn't informed otherwise she would likely assume this camp to be completely abandoned.
She moved to the door of the first tent and opened it just enough to look in. The tent had the remains of cots and a rusted through coffee pot sat on a rickety old table.
She then went to the next few tents to see similar arrangements. When she went to the middle tent across from the commander's tent, it was full of aged, crates. She couldn't tell if this one was empty just by peaking in the door. She looked over her shoulder and entered the tent. She crept around the boxes, peaked around the corners slowly making her way through the tent. She found no diamond dogs, but there was a few old carts, and various other aged supplies.
The rest on this row where also empty outside of dilapidated beds, collapsing footlockers, and rotted tables, as well as the first half of the other row.
When she looked into the commanders tent, a lone aged diamond dog sat at a dilapidated old desk, a weathered flat cap on his head covering his eyes as he gently snored. Behind him sat a large pile of bits, gemstones, and various other valuable or shiny objects.
She then moved on to check the rest of the camp, which also turning up empty. She also hadn't seen any evidence of tunneling so it was a safe bet that the old dog was the only one home.
She trotted back to the door of the larger tent. She peaked inside and the lone diamond dog was still asleep. She sat outside the door for a few minutes trying to figure out a plan of action. Shaking her head she walked in, "Howdy!"
The diamond dog grunted before tilting his hat back on his head. "Who you?" He grunted.
"Muh name's Applejack."
"Why you here?" He said leaning forward over the desk.
"Business"
"Business?" The old dog said gazing upon the orange mare before him, "You gunslinger, what business you have?"
The dog looked around, noticing the lack of other dogs, "Where sons?" Panic rising in his voice, "You kill."
No use lying "Eyup."
Rage exploded on his face, "Then you die."
He grabbed a crystal from the desk with the intention of blasting Applejack. He was too slow, applejack lifted up her leg in little more time than it takes to blink and fired both barrels of one of her howdah pistols, straight into the diamond dog's chest knocking him over backwards.
With him, this tribe of diamond dogs ceased to exist. She stared at the now dead diamond dog, She knew she was going to have a lot to think about when she was burying this one. As she picked up the lifeless corpse she remembered back to before everything happened. When problems where easiest solved by talking things out instead of violence.
Deep down she wished she could have talked out of this situation, but she knew that it was impossible with how she dealt with this problem from the start. Another failure on her part. It was just so easy to just solve all of her problems with a blast of fire, smoke, and leaden death.
A deep feeling of lethargy engulfed her by the time she set down the corpse of the diamond dog down just outside the camp and then went back to look for a shovel in the camp.
The one she found was as to be expected. It had been left in the camp from when it was occupied, the shovel head had a layer of rust, and the handle was splintered and beginning to crack. It was all she could gt a hold of, and it would have to do.
She only managed to dig a few feet down before the shovel handle broke. She decided that the depth would have to do. She gently placed him in the grave and used the shovel head to scrape sand back to cover him. She stuck a worn plank of wood retrieved from the camp as a makeshift headstone and sent a prayer to Celestia to forgiver her for failing again.