As soon as I passed through the Air Force base gates, I sped back up the narrow dusty lane towards the main road, where I began to pick up the pace. Fleetfoot then called up from the back seat.
"What was that place where you found me?"
"That was a hangar, where a jet was being kept."
"What's a jet?" she inquired.
I sighed, but continued talking, and explained to her all about aircraft, how a jet fighter works, and what they are used for, and how they are stored when not in use.
"Why were you there, by the way? And what is that place at large?"
"It's an air force base," I explained. "It's where pilots meet up, or like me, are trained to become the best fliers in the sky. As members of the military, we serve our country and defend it from enemies."
"So you're a pilot in training?" Fleetfoot asked, her eyes growing wide. "And you fly one of those?"
"Yes, I do. There are a few types. I flew an F-16 last year, and currently I fly a Eurofighter Typhoon. Weird names, I know."
"You-rouh-fighter?" Fleetfoot mouthed.
I instantly picked up on what she was hinting at. "Don't you have a group to defend and protect your homeland?"
"Yes, we do. They're called the Royal Guard."
"Interesting. Your uniform seems to have a unique style to it. Are you part of a team?"
"I am part of a team – Equestria's most elite flying squadron, the Wonderbolts. We perform over Cloudsdale and Ponyville regularly, though we will step up our game and assist in the defense of our land. The leader of my team is Spitfire."
My mind flashed back to Shane and his strict yet smoothly ordered behavior. "Like an ERT, I see. How is Spitfire? Like, her temper and attitude?"
"Spitfire's pretty strict and harsh-mouthed, but she's also attentive to whatever is said. One mistake can send her mane ablaze, especially if she'd given a severe warning beforehand."
I gave a slight shudder. Who knew such cute creatures could have such a temper behind their endearing faces? Gently sliding it aside, I pressed on.
"So you and your team of Wonderbolts, you... perform? As in aerial tricks?"
Fleetfoot nodded.
"Sounds great!" Unbeknownst to her, I had a crazy idea in the deep depths of my mind, but I decided to keep it there until later on, when I could analyze it and see if it would be reasonable or not.
"What is this that we're traveling in, actually?"
I smiled. Now it was my turn to describe the world I was in. "We're in Whiz, the nickname I give for my car. It's like a carriage, but with an engine that powers it instead of it being pulled."
"It sounds fairly loud."
"Nah, many cars are even louder than this," I bragged, recalling a Mustang down the street from my childhood home. My mother almost had a raging fit with its owner over the insane loudness of the straight-piped exhaust.
Not wanting to get into too many details, I continued down the highway in silence and proceeded towards home. While Fleetfoot dozed off in the backseat, a million thoughts rolled through my mind like a casino gambler sorting cards. What was Equestria actually like? Were there other ponies other than just pegasus ponies? Possibly other creatures? How different was Equestria compared to Earth? And most important of all, how did Fleetfoot end up here on Earth? Also, would I be able to care for her alongside my busy schedule?
"Have courage and be kind..." The saying rang in my head again as I turned onto my neighborhood street. As I reversed into a parking space in the old lot, Fleetfoot stirred, and I leaned over the edge of the seat.
"It's time to go, Fleetfoot. We're here now."
Fleetfoot limped out of the back seat, holding up her sprained leg. I got out my stuff from the trunk, looped the duffel strap over my shoulder, picked her heavy, muscular figure up, and walked down the narrow cracked sidewalk, making sure to lock up Whiz with the snazzy remote starter. Thankfully no one was around at the time as the late afternoon had just begun and many people had yet to arrive home from work.
I unlocked the front door of my semi-detached two-storey and stepped in. My home was fairly simple, with vibrantly colored walls to boost moods and a nice beige rug with flowery patterns. Living room furniture consisted of just one worn-down sofa, a small TV on a stand, and a small bookshelf. I could've added more, but most of my money had gone towards the upkeep and maintenance of Whiz.
"Whoa," Fleetfoot breathed, as I set her down on the couch and flipped a few light switches.
"Yep," I sighed. "This is home."
"Looks fairly small, but pretty quaint overall. Everything's so...organized and neat."
I headed upstairs to put away my work duffel, and returned shortly afterwards with a small red duffel with a white cross on it. Setting it down on the couch, I set off to the kitchen and returned with a small container of warm water, Fleetfoot watching all the while in awe and curiosity. With some gentle, cautious effort, I removed her flying suit and gently rinsed her hurt leg in the water. As I dried the leg with a cloth, I noticed a small slit in her skin.
"Hang on," I said in a low voice. "You've got a nasty cut here. Must clean that immediately."
Incredibly, Fleetfoot stayed calm as I cleaned the cut with alcohol-based antiseptic wash liquid and then took out a pair of scissors. Very carefully, I trimmed the fur surrounding the wound, then applied a protective patch over it. Finally, I spun a thirty-inch gauze wrap around it, securing it in place with a few safety pins.
"Now," I said, deepening my tone, "couple rules you need to follow now that I'm taking care of you."
Fleetfoot turned and shot me a 'seriously?' look.
I nodded slowly. "First off, no going outside until after dark. You mustn't be seen until further notice."
She gave a sad pout that was so adorable I had to tighten my chest to avoid letting my eyes droop in sympathy.
"I know, being cooped up sucks, but you'll get used to it. Second of all, don't walk on your sprained leg. It needs several weeks to recover fully before it can support weight. And lastly, anything you do or make, clean up and ensure absolutely nothing is left out of place or untidy. Understood?"
Fleetfoot nodded. "Understood, Brian."
"Good. Now I'll prepare a good dinner for us, and then you can rest while I run a few late errands."