"There she is," Donovan smiled, proudly displaying the portrait for those around him to see. "Beauty, isn't she?"
"I don't know, Donovan," Harris mused, examining the picture before passing it on. "If I wanted to see something really beautiful, your wife..."
"Shut up, idiot." Clarke, the squad's sharpshooter, rolled her eyes as she looked at the image herself. "This true to life?"
"Yeah. Close as. Getting her to sit still was the most difficult part."
"How old is she?"
"Four years, since a month ago." Donovan beamed.
"Aww..."
"Yeah, yeah, all right, the kid's adorable. Can we please get to playin' now?"
"That depends. Has Andrews finished undoing the damage you did to the deck?"
"..."
"Nearly." Andrews spoke up. He was a man of few words, but a stalwart shield on the battlefield. Most of the time.
"You only had to shuffle it." Harris grumbled.
"And take out all the duplicates you added." Andrews replied pointedly. He reached into his bag, pulled out a hip flask and took a quick draught, to three disapproving stares.
"Stop doing that."
"The skip'll kill you..."
"If Kellas doesn't get there first."
"He and the others are still on that equipment run, and the skip was called out to see the lieutenant. You know how much she talks, and how long he'll be gone. It'll be fine."
"I still wouldn't risk it."
Andrews shrugged and took another sip. He nearly choked a second later when, as a blob-shaped mass of pink hair appeared at the window, Clarke exclaimed, "Sister!"
He hastily stowed the flask as Pinkie Pie burst through the door into the common room. The rest just tried to look as innocent as possible.
"Hi, everybody!" she giggled, "Just thought I'd come round and see how you're all doing. Here, have some candy!" She threw a handful of treats in the air that landed on the table, scattering next to the pack of cards Andrews had just put down. "Ooh, cards!"
"We're doing fine, thank you, sister." Clarke respectfully replied. "Just a little restless, and eager to know when we're on the move."
"Aww, well, I wouldn't worry too much about that." she smiled conspiratorially. "I just had a chat with Twilight, and I miiiiiight be able to say that we'll be heading out of here in about two weeks!"
"Oh! Thank you, s—"
"It's all good! Now, I can't stay! I've got to get away, and see the rest of the keep, today!"
She disappeared out the door in a flash of confetti. Clarke reached down and replaced the stool her exit had knocked over.
"Mad as a bat," the sniper sighed, "but at least she can heal properly."
There was a murmur of agreement throughout the room. Loath as they were to admit it, at least some of the other elements in the platoon weren't always half-bad at their jobs.
But would just a bit better than "half-bad" be enough, out in the frozen wastes?
Vernor shook a little as he hurried across the wide, chilly Valiance streets. Partly from the cold, and partly from his nerves.
They weren’t the most obvious nerves that he had been expecting to have, though. Sure, he was worried about leaving the keep, but, here, right now, that was at the back of his mind.
He had something else to worry about.
It’s just a drink, he told himself. I just have to ask. Just. Have. To. Ask. It doesn’t matter if she says no.
He was beginning to wonder if he would even find her in time. The keep was huge, sprawling, and practically a maze of half-finished buildings, that, outside the docks, the mustering area near the statue of King Varian, and the great keep itself, were in a state of constant, confusing, clamour and din.
And getting her alone to ask with a modicum of privacy was at least half the problem, as well – when she had a second, living, shadow that near-perfectly matched her every move.
But then he saw her as he rounded another corner, standing by the wall of one of the keep’s three armouries, staring off into space. And alone, blessedly alone. Perhaps the two had been called to two separate injuries – Third squad had found themselves serving shifts as standby medics for any and all of the mishaps that occurred on the base.
Whatever the reason, Vernor was grateful for it.
He approached her, emboldened with every step he managed to take, and called out, “Erina?”
She looked towards him and smiled pleasantly. The radiant sight gave him a feeling of happiness that he would later find himself unable to properly describe.
“I was just wondering if you w—”
Her sister appeared out of the armoury, drawn by the sound of Erina’s name.
His heart sank, and all his plans with it.
Naturally…
“Yes?” Erina prompted.
“Uh… I was just wondering if you had heard that we have our orders.” he swallowed. “Sister Pie has been spreading it around the squads, and the lieutenant has called us together tonight, probably to confirm it.”
“We had heard.” Tyrae answered for her, and he could have sworn that she wore a mischievous smirk, in contrast to her sister’s innocent smile.
“Ah—” he managed.
“Thank you for your concern,” the druid added. “We will be well prepared for what is coming.”
Vernor forced out, “That’s… great!”, and positively fled from their twinkling gaze.
Twilight gathered the platoon together in the yard at midday for their briefing. No rooms were available, and being able to point in the correct directions more easily when she needed to was at least one positive.
That was about the only one.
“We’ll be heading along the coast as much as possible, in order to limit our contact with the scourge.” She said, drawing a thin stick of wood she had scavenged as a visual aid across the map to show their planned route across the wastes. “We will only engage as a last resort. Remember, we need to be getting to the Dragonblight in one piece.”
The platoon stood in a loose half-circle around her and the board, save for Applejack, who stayed at her side. They were all used to the cold wind that always blew through the yard, after a month of stolidly suffering it, but that simply meant that none by now were foolish enough to come out without properly covering up first.
“We’ll cover the ground away from the sea when we must in this formation,” Twilight went on. “First squad will split in half, and will take the lead in a v-shape. She pointed at the sketch on the board she had made in advance, letting the ink on the page illustrate her point better than mere words ever could. "Myself and my squad will follow them, then Third, then Second squad, ultimately forming an arrow-shape.
“Corporal Bandor, I leave the division of First squad to you.” she finished, and he nodded. “Any questions on all that? Anybody?”
Harris raised a hand. “So what happens if they catch us in the rear?”
“That won’t be a likely occurrence,” she replied, failing to spot Bandor’s brow crease. “but if it does occur, First will turn and lead the other squads to protect Second at the back. We’ll form a defensive circle around Second and work on destroying them from there.” There were a few whispers, which Twilight took to mean understanding. “Anyone else?”
Kellas raised his hand, and Twilight motioned for him to speak.
“What about the Horde?” he bluntly asked.
“What about the Horde?” she echoed his question, unsure of his point.
"Your arrow formation gives us strong protection against anything from the front, but relies on the enemy being slow to reform or us having good warning of an attack," he elaborated. "The Horde aren't slow, and they won't give us any warning."
She had to admit he was right about the first part, but still felt compelled to defend the formation. It had been a tip from Captain Dale, a veteran infanteer. And besides...
"Our route takes us nowhere near the main Horde camps," she said. "They won't bother us if we don't bother them."
"What about raiding parties, then?" Kellas pressed.
"We have nothing to worry about from the Horde." Twilight reaffirmed. "We're united against the Lich King in this war, and we need them just as much as--"
"That's complete bullshit!" Kellas snarled, and Twilight saw angry agreement among the rest of First. Bandor alone kept his face straight, but even he, who she taken to be reasonable and generally friendly, didn't look very pleased.
Kellas was by far the most aggressive. She couldn't help but recoil a little as he stood to shout something else, and Applejack reflexively shifted a little in front of her friend to cover her better.
Bandor stymied the lance-corporal before he could say anything else. He sat down, bristling, and glared for the rest of the presentation.
Twilight continued on, going into greater detail, but couldn't help but wonder whether she had underestimated the platoon's hatred for the Horde. She'd thought that the Scourge would command their attention, but, clearly, old hatreds died... hard.
But she'd learned that lesson already, hadn't she?
She took heart from noticing that Second and Third hadn't looked anywhere near as incensed with her words as the career soldiers had. She thought the two draenei in the crowd might have even been giving her approving nods. Perhaps there was hope there. But the constant battles, day in, day out, and spending the rest of her time trying to get to know her soldiers on a personal level... maybe she'd missed out on an opportunity to understand their feelings on this particular matter, and wasted time that could have been spent on trying to change their minds.
She concluded the briefing, at last, and her girls came to gather around her as the other squads filed away.
Two weeks til their departure. She hoped it would be enough to have them ready.
Training. Training, training, training.
What wasn't there to like about training?
Actually doing it could be a challenge, of course, and painful, frustrating and generally difficult in the moment. But it was so very vital for success, as any form of preparation and learning was.
But if there was one thing linked to training that she liked more than training itself, it had to be planning training. It had to be her favourite of her new duties - developing her troops, making sure they were ready for what was coming. Developing them as people, too.
A little like back home, and how much she and her friends had learned from their friendship lessons of old, only now with a little more control, and little more purpose... and many more unknowns.
Today's training took the form of a friendly competition. A little exercise in brains, brawn and effort she'd cooked up, and the first to involve her fellow support platoon commander, Issha Duskwind.
"Take a breath, Miss Sparkle. I don't think I have ever seen you quite this excited." she advised with a wry smile.
Issha, of course, had been a soldier before, a sentinel in her people's military. It was clear in the way she carried herself, the assertiveness she spoke with and the assurance with which she walked. What exactly had prompted her to take the opportunity to transfer over to the Stormwind Army was something she never talked about.
Veteran though Issha might have been, and despite their lack of contact aboard the Kraken - where they had both been far too busy to socialise -Twilight had found her to be engaging, helpful and friendly.
"I wasn't excited before, I was nervous." Twilight replied, scratching a little more detail onto her plan, just enough to make it perfect. "But this... this, I'm excited about. What do you think?"
She passed the large roll of parchment over, and Issha studied it intently, keeping her expression neutral throughout. "It's bold." she said at last. "Very bold."
"Do you disapprove?"
The night elf teased her by keeping her hanging for just a moment short of what would have been cruel. "No, I approve. Most of the training plans concocted by Stormwind officers that I have read are as simple as a line in the sand, and as rigid and inflexible as a stone."
"Useful to a point, but there needs to be a bit of creativity in there as well. I've learned that much through what my friends and I have experienced, without a doubt."
"It seems you and I are of the same mind." Issha mused. "I wonder if this is what they hoped would happen in Stormwind when they first thought up the concept of the support platoons."
"Do you have any changes that you would like to make? I'd be honoured to hear your suggestions."
"Well, now that you mention it..."
“Uh… you sure this is such a good idea, Twi?” Applejack cast a dubious eye over the crowd – the gaggle – of soldiers and casters standing in the courtyard before them.
“Of course!” Twilight warmly affirmed. “We have it all figured out. Nothing can possibly go wrong, and even if it does, look, we have a risk assessment!” She waved the colourful piece of paper about in the air.
“I thought you’d said nothin’ could—” Applejack started to say, then caught herself. There was no convincing Twilight when she had that certain sparkle in her eyes, whether it was about sleepovers, reading, or training exercises, apparently. “Good luck, hon.” She nervously walked back to her group.
“Thanks, but I won’t be competing!” the mage hummed in response. It was all going so well, so far. Twenty-six people – her platoon’s total size, her aside – arranged into two groups of five and four groups of four.
Twenty–six others, on the opposite side of the square – Issha’s platoon, and their opponents for the day.
Spotting the night elf now, as she emerged from behind one of her own teams, Twilight hurried over to greet her.
“It’s almost time!” she said by way of opening the conversation, and Issha chuckled at her enthusiasm.
“Yes – week’s planning is about to pay off. Do try not to look too excited though, my friend.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Twilight shivered, almost as much from anticipation as from the ever-present chill. “But it’s all just so perfect…!”
Two platoons, fifty-two participants. Twelve teams in all, with the final scores weighted properly to account for group size.
Glory to the winning platoon, commiserations to the loser, and a whole lot of bonding and fun for all.
That was the plan, anyway. What could possibly go wrong?
The competition was relatively simple. The teams had an hour to make their way around the keep, navigating with the maps they had been provided to a series of stands that were manned by some of the off-duty or civilian personnel that the two platoon commanders had managed to persuade to help.
Each stand offered a different challenge – a test of the mind or body, and in some cases, both. One example asked the participants to solve a riddle of crossing a hypoethitical bridge with all of a number of animals – with the caveat that only one could be moved at a time, and all had to survive the trip without eating each other unsupervised. Another required that the group complete a series of press-ups – the faster each member of the group completed it, the more points they would earn.
It was Twilight’s hope - and Issha’s as well, from what she had said, having experienced some group tensions herself - that their troops would learn the importance of relying on each other, and the skills they each individually possessed. The men and women of First squad were excellent soldiers, it could not be denied, but their training had stripped them on the whole of the kind of creativity that the likes of Second possessed – the kind of creativity and spontaneity that Twilight had come to rely on Rarity and Pinkie for, while learning from their example as best she could.
And, in turn, that Second would see the value in a little extra discipline.
She wasn’t expecting them to change overnight – just hoping that she could challenge their points of view.
The teams had been not-so-randomly picked – one or two members of each squad assigned to each. The healers in Third had been fully spread out – the offensive casters and soldiers had only had to double up once or twice each, and then her girls had then been divided up to help out too. She had been glad of their enthusiasm for the plan – especially how they had been trying, with some success, to pass that feeling on to the platoon – and had gratefully accepted tips, suggestions and tweaks to the format from them.
Now, it was time to reap the rewards.
The clock ticked down, and at last it was time. She and Issha called the platoons to attention. With one last explanation for clarity, Twilight did the honours and fired a bolt of arcane into the sky to mark the start of the race. The same signal would also herald the end of the competition in two hours’ time.
They all disappeared off into the misty streets in search of their first destinations – each team had a different stand order to complete, to avoid bunching up and having to wait too long at each objective.
The two commanders then settled back to wait in the middle of the square, some conjured confectionary in hand.
On later reflection, Twilight understood that quite a lot could have gone wrong. And, as it happened, quite a lot did go wrong.
Captain Dale made sure that she and Issha understood it too, in no uncertain terms, summoning them to his office for a lecture on “soldierly conduct” and “setting a good example”.
The words “court-martial” might have also been floated at some point, too. Threatened, at least.
Not that he was implying that their behaviour was at fault, per se, but the quality of their planning, in his eyes, left some to be desired.
Perhaps it was naïve of her to have expected the career soldiers in the groups not to be competitive to the point of charging into and knocking out a blacksmith after having vaulted an active forge in their haste to reach their next objective.
Perhaps she should have foreseen that the same competitiveness would infect the casters, and that they would get so caught up in the fun that they would begin to sabotage each other – which inevitably led to cross words and then crossed spells. That nothing material caught fire was little short of a miracle, and jt was fortunate that all injuries were minimal, easily treated and confined only to the platoons, not to anyone else in Valiance.
Perhaps it would have been a good idea to have postponed the event until the afternoon, when the fog could potentially have cleared, instead of sending them out into the streets. It pooled up so much in certain areas that seeing through it was completely impossible, and led to a few accidents that, even accounting for an improper degree of recklessness, would not have happened in broad daylight.
Perhaps it was also an oversight on their part to choose the exact same signal to mark the end of the exercise as the one that warned of a Scourge attack.
Overall, they were not in a position to call the idea a success.
That night in First’s dorm was not a silent one – the conversation filled with frustration and anger, the mood bitter, and mutinous.
They kept their voices low, their whispers harsh and hushed. They had Andrews standing by the door as a silent lookout, took every precaution for security.
He and Bandor aside, none of the other six held back from expressing their feelings.
"It was an utter disgrace!"
"They embarrassed us - the platoon and the regiment!"
"We're a laughing stock to the rest of the keep!"
"I had one of those Redridge arseholes cut in line with his buddies at lunch. Told me if I wanted to go first, I'd need to learn how to read a map and win a race. I'd have broken his nose there and then if the lieutenant hadn't been behind me..."
"We'd have been better paired up with each other, instead of the other squads. That would be a real competition. What was she even thinking, putting us with them?"
"What's the point of trying, if they can't run more than a mile without having to catch their breath?"
"One of my team, that damned druid - he just became a cat and disappeared the whole two hours! When we finally found him, he'd been taking a nap!"
"If that's how they're going to act in an exercise, what are they going to be like when it's for real?"
"It goes deeper than all that." Clarke pointed out. She'd suffered the most in the chaos of the day, having been caught on the edge of a magical duel between Gearfuse and Fizzlezip, neither of whom had been on her team in the competition. An afternoon spent with the healers had cleared up most of the - mainly superficial - burns and singing, but some of the pain still lingered. "It was an awful exercise from concept to finish. We can blame Second for their performance, but we can't blame them for the idea."
Kellas nodded. "She's right. The blame for this lies all the way at the top."
Bandor's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure I like where you're going with this, Lance-Corporal."
“You can lead us, skip!” Kellas urged. “You’ve got years more combat time logged than any of us.”
It was a sentiment Kellas had expressed to him more than once when it had just been the two of them, but to voice it so brazenly in front of the others...
Bandor could see agreement plastered on the faces of his squad, and he didn't like it. “Against the Horde, maybe. But I’ve only fought the Scourge once, in Stormwind.” he protested.
“Experience is experience, no matter the foe.” his junior countered. “And it’ll be experience that wins this war – experience and courage. These conscripts will fold like a wet blanket the first time a ghoul jumps out at ‘em.”
“You don’t know that. They’ve held up fine against the bugs at the gate, so far, just like the other platoons.”
"Fighting atop a wall is nothing like being face to face with them. But you have been, skip - you'll do much better than some naive little mage who'd rather be cosied up, warm and safe, in a library than out here. I doubt what they did down in Westfall had much to do with her."
"Yeah!"
"Kellas is right, skip!"
"Maybe if you go and see Captain Dale, he could—"
Bandor stood up. "Enough." he thundered, loud enough to make the watchful Andrews jump. All patience finally exhausted at where the conversation had now escalated, he continued, "I don’t want to hear any more about this. Get into your beds and get some rest. We're covering the wall all morning tomorrow."
They obeyed, and shuffled off into their bunks. Even as he extinguished the candle and plunged the room into darkness, the fire of sedition still smouldered in them.
All it needed was a little more fuel.
More time passed. More fights at the wall. No more training disastrous exercises. Things settled back into a veneer of stability as Eight Platoon prepared for their departure.
Then, the very last day. Eighteen hours to go.
Fluttershy had chosen to sit atop a pillar by the square, which had chosen to be an excellent place to observe the everyday goings-on of the keep, giving her an excellent view of the other squads packing.
Much like Pinkie, Applejack and Twilight, she'd finished packing already. It hadn't been difficult, certainly not for her. She had little more than what she had been issued to carry; her trap crystals, quite a few spare arrows... that was all, really.
And a plain, red collar.
Some of what they had been given in Stormwind had been taken back, by the keep's garrison armoury, to lighten their load in the field. They wouldn't need all of it.
She could see First most clearly as they were the closest to her. She admired the efficiency with which they unpacked, packed and arranged their kit in straight lines of four. It was the kind of efficiency that avoided mistakes. The kind she wanted to emulate.
Their obligatory kit inspection that Twilight had to conduct passed without incident and took only five minutes. Now they waited in perfect stillness for the others to finish.
Which looked like it would take a while.
The healers weren’t that bad, just a little under-practiced. Second squad, on the other hand, were proving to be a disaster.
Fluttershy had no idea how they had even packed in the first place. There was one notable exception – the draenei mage who had assisted Twilight in putting out the ship fire – but the rest were a little too… maverick… for such an ordered drill.
Two other mages, including Gearfuse, two warlocks, a druid who transformed into a giant owl to fight - and a cat when he wanted to sleep - and a priest who was nothing at all like his counterparts in Third, or Pinkie.
Equipment and supplies flew everywhere around the square as one member of Second would misplace something or another, which would inevitably be found in the middle of another’s pack, leading just as inevitably to a fight.
This happened three times before Twilight finally had enough. Shouting louder than Fluttershy had ever expected of her, she had separated them evenly out across the square and tasked a member of First to watch and help them with each step of the kit list.
And still they struggled. Now some of their gear was broken, and had to be replaced, or preferably mended. Applejack was very good at that, had been helping the keep's armourers all week in getting everything ready – growing up on the farm had left her very capable at DIY and temporary repairs.
Gearfuse nearly set the whole square aflame, not for the first time that month.
A thoroughly productive morning.
Finally, though they appeared to be getting somewhere. The time had quickly gone by, lunch had long since passed, and Twilight was on the verge of tears at the lack of organisation displayed.
But yes, it was over. A final salute and they all cleared away, for some late food and a final few hours to themselves.
Fluttershy leaned back and stared up at the sky, content to wait for the soldiers to eat their full before heading to the mess herself. She hadn’t just readied her pack today, in truth – she’d had it good to go since the first week of their arrival, and she could safely say that she was the only one of the platoon with actual, recent experience of the land beyond the walls. She’d snuck out a few times and then back in again without being spotted.
As a tracker, it was seemingly her role to keep aware of what was around them. Not in terms of planning a way across the ground in front of them – that was Twilight’s job – but in terms of what they might encounter on the way. So she’d ranged out a good mile and a half, slipping by the beach and giving a wide berth to the camps sitting atop the auburn bluffs. They were populated by cultists, apparently - the living who had willingly sworn themselves to the Scourge, and no matter how many times the Alliance forces sallied out, there always seemed to be more of them.
She felt sorry for them. Who could say what kind of terrible experience, what trauma, had led to them throwing their lot in with the Lich King?
Far out past the cliffs she’d found something to lift her spirits; a whole host of living animals which the Scourge, for the most part, had ignored. Rhinos, a scarce people back home, seemed in abundance here.
Tracking had been something she’d needed to be good at back home. There were times when an animal had been missing - lost, confused, perhaps injured, and helpless – and it had fallen to her to find them.
Now she could use those skills here, to know all that was nearby. She would stay ahead of the platoon, keep patrolling the tundra, and inform Twilight of anything - be it beast, Horde or Scourge - that might threaten their safety.
And she wouldn't be caught out, helpless and afraid as a friend suffered and died for her, ever again.
With the inspection finished, and the platoons off on their own devices, Applejack and Rainbow had one last task to complete themselves - taking the leftover supplies back to the quartermaster.
Fortunately there wasn't much left for them to carry. Second had had so many items that they needed to have repaired or replaced - tents, water bottles, and the rest - that they had used up almost all of the spares they had been originally provided.
Unfortunately, his stores were all the way over the other side of the camp, and, somewhat encumbered as they were, it still took them a solid ten minutes to get there.
Having then successfully deposited everything but their own gear with the grumpy sergeant, they were free to head back to get some lunch. While food was only served at set times of the day, advance warning of their late finish had been passed on to the cooks by Twilight, and so a sufficient number of meals had been set aside for them all.
As they left the stores and headed off back the way they had come, a thought occurred to Rainbow. "Oh, did you get your sword fixed?"
"Yeah." Applejack replied. She'd had to use it to bat away a particularly bold spinner during one of the more recent battles at the wall - it hadn't been a great hit, and the impact against the creative's chitin had left an imperfection in her steel that could have grown had she not had it seen to. "They owed me after I helped 'em with that errand last week, so they did it quick time."
They paused, their path blocked for the moment, as a cart laden with timber made its way over the crossroads ahead, drawn by an all-too familiar looking creature.
Their eyes followed it until it was out of sight.
"Still a bit weird, isn't it?"
"Heh. Yeah."
A minute or two of walking passed before Rainbow spoke again, much more hesitantly this time.
"Are you... looking forward to going out there?"
Her friend didn't reply immediately. An answer took so long to be forthcoming that Rainbow thought that she hadn't been heard, and was just opening her mouth to repeat herself when Applejack said, "No, I'm not... and given the way that you're asking, I'm guessin' you're not too keen yourself."
Rainbow motioned for them to stop, and they ducked off to the side of the road to stand against the walls of one of the buildings. "Was it that obvious?"
Applejack chuckled. "Not sure if anyone in their right mind would be lookin' forward to goin' where we're about to, and I don't think you're crazy."
"It's not that I regret coming out here, being with you and the others, supporting Twilight... but each time we're on the walls, I look out at the kind of things we're going to come up against..."
"I know."
"And it's not like I'm afraid for myself, it's not me I'm worried about... but the others. And it's not just our friends... we'll be going out there with twenty odd near-strangers, who knows if we can trust all of them, but we have to keep them safe too, and—"
"Listen to me, Rainbow, I know."
Emerald eyes met purple, both so vibrant compared to the dark stone around them.
"We jus' gotta focus on that one thing, sugarcube. Like you said, keeping them safe. It feels like somethin' mighty big to worry about, some huge responsibility, I know.... but I think it's actually somethin' good. Somethin' to keep us goin'. Worryin' about failing ain't gonna stop us from failing. If anything, it'll just make us more likely to fail.
"So keep that chin up and jus' do whatcha always do. And you're not alone with this responsibility. Besides me, y'know Rarity feels the same bout all of us, and Flutters may be a bit distant right now, but she knows it too. And Pinkie, well, she's... Pinkie."
"Heh, yeah. Pinkie is Pinkie. Nothing to worry about there."
"I'll keep tellin' the truth, and you keep on bein' loyal. Just as you always have been. In here, out there, wherever. We'll get through this together, no matter what we gotta face."
"Yeah. Thanks, AJ."
To Applejack, the warm smile Rainbow gave her in return easily outshone the pale northern sun that barely poked through the clouds.
"Don't mention it, partner. Let's drop these bags off and get some lunch. After that, what d'ya say we spar for a bit? Think I'm still up, last time we counted."
"Just." Rainbow scoffed. "I've knocked your lead down to one, and you'd better believe I'll win again today!"
"In your dreams. You got lucky last time; it won't happen again!"
They continued on back to the barracks, laughing, joking and cheerfully ribbing each other all the way.