What to do, what to do. With the dawn came confusion; with confusion came fear and doubt. Shēdo had borne witness to something greater, something supernatural, she had seen the paw print of a god—the Black Hound. She had seen the evidence of his fury from the way he had written his name upon the land, and by doing so, he had burned his brand upon her heart.
Shēdo didn’t know what to do or where to go next. All she had was her sword, the tattered remains of her filthy rucksack, and four paws willing to walk. But which way? After much thinking, Shēdo remembered that there was three, yes three directions she could walk. She was pretty certain there was three.
“Which way does Shēdo go?” she said aloud.
“Well, I think it would be suitably dramatic if you, as the hero, went west, towards the setting sun,” Limey replied. Then, after a moment, he added, “Go to your left, Shēdo.”
It took Shēdo a few tries, but she sorted out her three directions, and then took off in a general north-northeastern direction. This kept up for a while, and the sounds of huffy-puffy breathing could be heard from Limey, until the breathing reached a frantic pitch and the sword let out a low moan.
“No! Your other left! Thataway!” As these words were spoken by Limey, Shēdo felt her body being nudged in a different direction and she gave way to the gentle encouragement.
There was no road, no path, no trail, just trees and dirt. The wilderness surrounded them on all sides, though Shēdo knew that there were cities off somewhere. Pony cities. Filled with ponies. Doing whatever it was that ponies living in cities did. Perhaps she would find them and explain that she was a good dog.
Her blue tongue hanging out, Shēdo went west.
At least three days passed, yes, three days. At least, Shēdo was pretty certain that three days had passed. She tried counting them on her paw-fingers and each time, she came up with three. Now, three days later, she had come upon a small settlement of ponies, and she sat high in the fork of a tree watching them, wondering if they were friendly.
There were some buildings made of stones piled atop one another with sod roofs that Shēdo quite liked, it was much nicer than living in a hole in the ground. The ponies had gardens, vegetables, and she could see carrots, beans, and cabbages. All those vegetables meant that there would be delicious critters wanting to eat them, and she wondered if, perhaps, the ponies might need some help with pest control.
But approaching them was the problem. Shēdo was scared; diamond dogs and ponies didn’t always get along, and Shēdo knew why. There were lots of bad dogs and bad dogs made everything worse. These ponies seemed nice, there were some foals, some goats, at least three sheep, and some chickens that Shēdo knew better than to chase.
At some point, Shēdo knew that she would have to come down from her tree and say hello.
A big pony approached, an earth pony. He was a faded, dusty orange and he was wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat. Shēdo, on all fours, watched and waited, while making no sudden moves, but she did wag her tail. Wagging one’s tail was friendly, and good manners. She wanted so much to please and to be accepted.
“Hi, I Shēdo!”
The big earth pony paused, and the other ponies behind him kept a safe distance. Shēdo studied his face, and she realised that she was being studied. On all fours, Shēdo had to look up at the pony, and she wondered if this made him feel safer.
“Hullo, my name is Bolero Danver.”
This wasn’t going quite as planned, and Shēdo felt a bit worried. Had she failed to impress? She wagged her tail a bit more, but she wasn’t sure what one did to make friends with ponies. Sitting down in the dirt, Shēdo did her best to look harmless.
“My son, Nelson Danver, he’s a unicorn, and he’s been watching you for a while.” Bolero’s stern face softened just a bit and he gave Shēdo a nod. “You’ve been watching us for a while, off in yonder tree. I don’t think you’re here to cause trouble, and I don’t mean to be unfriendly. Times are hard, right now, and we’ve lost some of ours to the wilds.”
“Shēdo sorry. Can Shēdo help?”
Bolero looked quite surprised for a moment, and his eyes widened a bit. Reaching up, he pushed his hat back to have a better look at Shēdo, and behind him, some of the gathered ponies began murmuring. The patriarch began scratching his chin as he continued to study Shēdo. After some time, he spoke.
“You’d help us? I gotta say, that comes as quite a shock. We’ve been raided by diamond dogs before, a few months back. Nopony was taken, thankfully, but the fighting was nasty. We’re in a spot of trouble… we’ve lost two mares, a stallion, and one foal. We’ve also lost sheep, a goat, and our cows are gone. Now, we don’t know what’s been doing it, but if you want to help us, you could go and talk to the dragon that lives over the ridge. I ain’t saying the dragon did it, but the dragon does have a zebra captive, and it seems likely.”
Shēdo blinked. A dragon!
“We don’t want you getting killed,” Bolero said as he stared Shēdo in the eye. “I don’t want that on my conscience. But you do have that fancy sword, and you seem friendly enough. The dragon might talk to you. If you could, find out what the dragon is up to and see if he’s the one stealing our kinfolk. When we saw him, he had himself a captive zebra, so maybe the dragon needs workers or slaves.”
The gathered ponies had hopeful looks upon their faces, sad, hopeful looks. These ponies knew loss just like Shēdo knew loss. Extending her hind leg, Shēdo scratched behind her ear for a moment, contemplating what to do. Limey seemed silent, for whatever reason, and she concluded that this decision was her own. She put her hind leg back down and wondered what she might do.
“Bolero, what if she gets captured?”
“Quiet, Okra!” Bolero turned to face the mare that had spoken. “Dragons see diamond dogs differently than they do us ponies.”
“They do?” Shēdo asked.
Turning back around, Bolero nodded. “From my limited understanding, the not so good dragons and the not so good diamond dogs trade with one another. Gems, ore, slaves… I done reckon that dragons see diamond dogs as being a little more useful to them than ponies.”
Nodding, Shēdo saw the wisdom in that, but also the wrongness. Her kind had a reputation. “Slave keeping wrong. Bad. Wrong. Shēdo’s whole clan killed, destroyed by Black Hound. Dig Dag did wrong, lived wrong, was wrong, and now we are all dead. I am all that is left. Just me. Poor Shēdo.” Looking into the earth pony’s eyes, she saw genuine, sincere sadness, and she was touched.
“I’m sorry, Shēdo… am I saying that right?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know who the Black Hound is… and I’m sorry that he took your whole clan. I lead this clan, and we try to do good. We try to keep our dealings fair and honest.” Bolero paused, and he chewed on his lip for a moment. Then, looking a little sadder, he continued, “Speaking of fair and honest, we have nothing to pay you with if you help us. We have no bits, no coins, no gems, we just have the food we’re growing and each other.”
“Shēdo help anyway, because Shēdo wants to be a good dog.”
“Be submissive. Be meek. Be respectful.” Bolero’s head lowered a bit and tilted off to one side. “Try to make the dragon think that there are more diamond dogs, and that you are more useful alive than dead.” The patriarch blinked once, then nodded. “Thank you, Shēdo. You are a good dog.”
Okra broke ranks and stepped closer, leaving the others behind her. She came to where Bolero stood, and ignored his disapproving glare. “A very good dog indeed. Perhaps you’d like to eat with us? I know you can eat soup and bread. Stay with us, sup with us before you go.”
Bolero’s hard expression softened, and he brushed up against Okra in a kind way. “Yes, stay with us. Share our food and companionship.”
“Okay.”
Lo, our heroine has been accepted by the gregarious but sinister equines who are now suddenly feeling just a little bit guilty that they were getting rid of a pesky, unwanted diamond dog by tricking her into being barbecued and eaten by a dragon. She’s such a rube. It’s a good thing she can’t hear me calling her a rube right now. Somehow, I have to keep Shēdo safe from these treacherous, awful equines. What to do, what to do. Fighting a dragon is a bit beyond our capabilities, methinks…
The shadows were becoming long and dark as the late afternoon sun shone over the edge of the ridge. Down below, on the floor of the valley, Shēdo saw the dragon in question. She didn’t know how long or big it was, but when she held her thumb up in front of her eye for perspective, the dragon was much bigger by far.
The dragon was big enough to eat the zebra she saw in one bite, but the dragon wasn’t eating the zebra, no. Squinting, she tried to make out what was on the ground, but she couldn’t quite see it. The zebra, a small zebra, was hunched over whatever it was, looking down at it. The dragon was pointing with his massive, scythe-like claw.
It was hard to tell, but it didn’t seem like the zebra was in any trouble.
Shēdo watched a little longer, and each time the dragon touched the zebra with a claw, she tensed up, waiting for the zebra’s little head to roll. Limey was silent, so much so that it bothered Shēdo, but she said nothing about it. The dragon was becoming a subject of much fascination, and the pup decided that it was time to introduce herself.
As she climbed down out of her tree, she remembered everything she had been told by the kind earth ponies.
“You finally came down out of your tree, pup.”
Halting in place, Shēdo looked up at the big dragon with big, shimmering eyes, in awe of the massive beast and his impressive, rumbling baritone. The dragon was looking at her, and Shēdo was looking at him, and she realised that she was really just a very small puppy, in the bigger scheme of things.
“What sort of dog goes climbing a tree?” the dragon demanded. “I’m trying to teach young Conifer here about the world all around him, and do you have any idea how difficult it is to explain a tree climbing dog? Cease violating the natural order of things! You are not a cat!”
“No, I Shēdo.”
“Indeed,” the dragon replied in a wry, smokey voice.
The zebra was a foal and Shēdo could see him staring at her with a curious expression. His coat was glossy, shiny even, and he had to be cleanest looking creature she had ever seen in the wilds. His white parts were so white that they gleamed. The dragon was big and silvery, he looked as though he was made from bright, shiny metal.
“My name is Chromium,” the dragon said, introducing himself, “and this is Conifer, my zebra. You are Shēdo, and I am guessing that you are a diamond dog whose pedigree goes back to Inujima. Konnichiwa, Shēdo.”
“Shēdo no speak old tongue. Sorry.”
“How regrettable,” the dragon said and then he let out a smouldering huff of disappointment. “Conifer, pay attention. Diamond Dogs from Inujima are quite different and distinct. Many are samurai, proud and noble sorts. The very best sort of dogs, really. Honourable, but many equines are made squeamish by their noble tradition of harvesting the heads of their enemies like cabbages. Now, Conifer, you mustn’t be judgmental, head collecting cults aren’t so bad, provided that they are collecting the right heads. The world could do with more severed heads, in my esteemed opinion. Too many empty heads taking up space and breathing my valuable air.”
“She’s little,” Conifer said in a somewhat squeaky voice.
“Well of course she’s little, she’s a puppy!” Chromium flexed his claws, which were longer than a sword, and he let out a smoggy, sooty sigh. “Honestly, the both of you aren’t even enough to make a decent kebab!”
Conifer, a curious little zebra indeed, came closer so that he could check Shēdo out. The zebra colt was fearless in a way that only zebra colts watched over by silver dragons could be. In no time at all, he was inches away from Shēdo, examining her, trying to understand the great mystery of the arboreal hound.
“She smells,” Conifer said to Chromium.
“Oh, how positively mortifying!” Chromium gasped as he threw up his claws in exasperation. “Conifer, how many times do I have to tell you that you can’t just go around saying exactly what is on your mind! Dragons can do that because we’re big enough to get away with it, but you… you are a zebra! You are a bite sized morsel! There isn’t even enough of you to choke on!”
Ears perking, Shēdo was puzzled by the strange way the dragon said the word ‘zebra.’ Zed-bra. Sitting down in the soft forest loam, she made herself comfortable. Flexing her diggy-diggy claws, she then laid them in her lap while she looked up at the dragon and the dragon looked down at her.
“I suppose those earth ponies sent you to talk with me about their missing kin.”
“Yep.” Shēdo nodded.
“Well, I had nothing to do with that, but I know who and what is responsible.” The dragon lowered his head down until he was eye to eye with Shēdo. “It’s embarrassing, really. I had something stolen and I’m too big to retrieve it. If you help me out, I’ll give you something valuable in return…”