The Midnight Oil and it smaller sister ship parted ways. Captain Typhoon's crew was kind enough to supply the other vessel with some extra rations, and after everything had been checked out, the tiny transport made its way east, traveling at a brisk pace. Flash watched it for several minutes... when suddenly it appeared to pick up even more speed. He soon discovered that the Midnight Oil was moving away from it, heading due west towards the location of the negotiations.
"What exactly are we going to find there?" Flash asked of Fancy Pants.
"Oh... to be quite honest... I'm not one hundred percent certain," the unicorn stated, polishing the lens of his monocle.
"You mean you don't know what the home of these 'diamond dogs' looks like?"
"Well, we do know the location," Fancy Pants explained. "But the architecture—if there is any—has sadly not been described to us." He looked over. "From previous communications, Prince Blueblood and I have been informed that the Diamond Dogs' central home is situated within the hollow of a tall, flat plateau. 'High Paw,' I do believe is the name of it."
Flash Sentry giggled.
Fancy Pants smirked. "Something the matter?"
"Ahem. No." Flash waved a hoof "Please... go on."
"I'm afraid there isn't much more to tell you. We've spoken at length with the representatives of their—how should I put it—canine council."
"Is it literally called that?"
"I don't know, my good chap, but I suppose it should be."
"Heheh..."
Fancy Pants continued: "But most of that time was spent discussing the politics and the philosophy of their culture, so that we could better ascertain their needs and wants—so that we may supply such and bring us to a new level of peace and coexistence."
Flash leaned against the railing of the ship. "And just what have you learned?"
"Well, they have extreme respect for the earth," Fancy Pants said. "They live in packs—albeit they're mining packs as opposed to hunting packs. They function more like gophers than wolves, I suppose."
"Uh huh..."
"They live extensively underground—which I suppose is a given—and they take great pride in their ability to excavate unfathomably large caverns within which to live and hoarde their collection of jewels. They value wealth in quantity more so than quality. The hound with the most jewels to show off is considered the wisest, healthiest, most virile... etc."
"Makes sense, I suppose."
Done polishing his monocle, Fancy Pants placed the article over his eye and squinted towards the horizon in front of them. "More than anything, they desire land. And lots of it. What's on the surface of the land is not important. They simply desire plenty of subterranean space for carving out bigger and more complex dens. The diamond dogs are remarkably expansive. Ponykind simply doesn't notice because the canines dwell underground most of the time. For all we know, they might have burrowed colonies underneath Manehattan Harbor—or the mountains of Canterlot!"
"So... what's been the big deal?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Flash shrugged. "If ponies live above ground and Diamond Dogs live mostly underground... what's the reason for so much... I dunno... non-peaceful stuff between both cultures in the past?"
"Well, both cultures have completely contrasting views on the nature of property and ownership."
"Ah."
"These canines believe that jewels—all jewels that exist everywhere—belong to them naturally. By default. Thus, when Equestrian society utilizes the gemstones that we have found as a means of wealth and currency... I-I suppose it rubs them the wrong way, so to speak. No doubt the oldest canine ancestors felt that they were being robbed by the equines who dwelled on the surface."
"And after countless generations of stewing over that, the current population of diamond dogs must not care for ponies too much."
"Sadly, no. Most interactions between diamond dogs and ponykind have yielded... unpleasant results. The canines think that ponies are greedy and invasive. And—let's be honest—most of us have a great deal of difficulty fathoming how a canine creature can be civilized and sapient."
Flash smiled. "How would you feel if you ran into a tall, hairless, talking monkey?"
Fancy Pants did a double-take. "What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
Flash chuckled and shook his head. "Forget that I said anything."
"I'm afraid I will have great difficulty ignoring your curious non sequiturs, Mr. Brad." Fancy Pants smiled. "You are as cryptic as you are surprising. For instance—why didn't you tell me that you knew Mr. Rich?"
"I didn't know I would have a reason to tell you," Flash said. "When I first met him, I heard he was needing to go somewhere—but I didn't know it meant having to rendezvous with you and Blueblood."
"Well, you were already fine in my book. Seeing that you've made a positive impression on him is absolutely smashing! We could use more ponies like you, Mr. Brad."
Flash nodded. When he next spoke, only he could hear the soft words. "And we could just use ponies. Period."