A pale moon glided overhead. The inhabitants of the lake were noisily getting about their nightly business. My toes dug themselves into the cooling sand. A warm fire crackled. Occasionally, it sounded with a snap and a hiss as the flames discovered pockets of water in the very green wood. All of this though, had to compete against Kitty Hawk and her very tall tale.
“So Rainbow Dash was like WEEEoow,” Kitty Hawk used her hoof to imitate a pony in flight. “She was diving faster and faster, and then...BOOM!” She threw her hooves up, a little too enthusiastically, and toppled off her log.
I raised an eyebrow. “And then what happened?” I asked, taking the last gulp of my turtle stew. Once licked clean, the shell got tossed into a pit with the remains of my dinner, now totaling two turtles, a snake, and an unlucky bird I’d taken with sling and stone.
Kitty Hawk righted herself in the sand. She grinned at me and said, “She exploded rainbows.”
“No way,” I said, leaning forwards.
“Yeah way. Rainbows exploded out in all directions. Not only that, but she caught the falling pony and the Wonderbolts.”
“Ah huh,” I said, unconvinced.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” huffed Kitty Hawk.
“Nope.”
“I was there. I saw it happen,” she said regally, holder her ground.
“When I see a pony explode rainbows, I’ll believe it,” I said.
Kitty Hawk looked at me haughtily. Her lips parted in a frown, jaw working back and forth as if chewing on a retort. Then, with a shrug, it all vanished and her goofy smile returned.
“Ok,” she said and hopped onto her log. “You turn.”
“My turn?” I asked.
“Yes, silly. I told a story, and now you have to tell one.”
“Most Diamond Dog stories involve war and fighting, some of it against ponies. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yep,” she said, wiggling her rump and settling in: eyes fixed on me and ears forward.
“Ok,” I said with a shrug.
Now, what to tell her? My village had plenty of ancestors and heroic deeds to go with. There was the pacification of the Brand Clan. My grandfather, then a member of the Fire Clan, had led that attack. Afterwards, he’d had the clan leader put to the sword and claimed leadership of both clans, forming the Firebrand Clan.
Or maybe not.
I stared into the fire, thinking. How about one from my own life? Now, what was the name of that dog again?
“I’ve got it,” I announced and smiled at Kitty Hawk. “How about I tell you the story of how my father became leader of the Firebrand Clan.”
Kitty Hawk leaned forwards.
“The story starts on one hot day. The Firebrand chief was getting very old and would soon be unable to lead the village. So, one day, he brought together the two lead contesters for the position: my father, Blaze, and a brave warrior named Dogmatic. Together, with their sons along for the ride, we set off for the capital of the dog empire, the Holy City.
Five dogs stood outside the massive gates: huge slabs of camelthorn wood held together by iron bands. It was so tall that the young Ember had to crane his head back, and only then to have his view blocked by the corbels.
The guard at the gate was ignoring the pleading from the Firebrand chief. “You get one day,” he said. “Or else you get to wait on the whims of Emperor Uni, while in his dungeon.”
The Firebrand chief clenched and unclenched his paws, his breathing coming through clenched teeth. A low growl started and then died in the back of his throat. “We need to see the wise council. As you say, since they are on this ‘religious holiday,’ then we will need to stay for more than one day.”
“You get one day,” the guard repeated, “and be grateful.”
The day was already getting hot as the sun climbed higher. Soon it would be midday. Daylight was wasting away.
“Fine,” snapped the clan leader. He signaled to his entourage and, with one last glare at the guard, led the way into the Holy City. He set out at a rapid pace, even with his limp.
The guard yelled after them, “If you go to the Council Hall, you may find a clerk with nothing better to do.”
Just as the guard had said, the Council Hall was deserted. Five sets of eyes stared down long halls inhabited by massive pillars and nothing else. Somewhere a door opened and closed.
Blaze stepped up next to his clan leader. “Sir, we should look elsewhere for counsel in our matter.”
“I realize that,” said the clan leader, “but where else are we to find dogs both wise and respected.”
A door banged open next to the party, and all heads turned to look. A dog in an iron collar was pushing a mop and a pail. He glanced our way and then quickly looked back down.
“Excuse me, slave,” said the clan leader.
“Yes?” asked the slave, keeping his eyes to the floor and tail between his legs.
“If I was to seek wisdom in this city, where would I go?” asked the clan leader.
“Go to the market place,” said the slave, “and ask for Dogenes.”
“Who is this Dogenes?” asked the clan leader.
“He is the greatest philosopher. Go, he can give you counsel for your problems.” The slave bowed once and then shuffled away.
Ember continued “Together, we all went to the market. We looked high and low, but could not find Dogenes. With the sun starting to head towards the horizon, we settled down by a fountain. There, next to us, was a dog living in a barrel. The clan leader asked him…”
My story faltered, died, and flittered away into the night.
Kitty sat attentively, watching me. When nothing happened, she stared harder. Then her tail started flipping back and forth and she dug at her log with an idle hoof.
Finally she could stand it no more. “What did he ask him,” pressed Kitty Hawk.
I held up my paw to silence her.
Kitty Hawk cocked her head inquisitively. “What is it?” she asked.
I ignored her.
My ears were perked up, trying to filter out the buzzing, croaking, and the occasional hoot. Somewhere out there, something didn’t belong. I listened hard.
“Ember,” Kitty Hawk persisted.
“Shhh,” I hissed.
Slowly, I turned my head this way and that. What had I heard that had put me on edge? Where had it come from?
I found it again. It was coming from the jungle. Something was heading directly for us, growing louder: the creak and groan of metal and wood, the clip-clop of hooves, and many voices.
Of course there would be visitors: wagon ruts, tails and roads. Someone had built it. No sanctuary like this would go unnoticed. And now they were here.
I dashed to and fro, running like a mad dog. Nothing could mask our mass of footprints. At least, I could conceal our camp: sand to smother the fire, blanket, food, and water skin shoved into the saddle pack, my sword across my back, sling at the ready.
Now what?
Something was missing. I frantically looked around. ‘She’ was heading towards the noise.
“Kitty Hawk,” I hissed as loud as I dared. “Get back here now.”
She was almost to the edge of the jungle before she turned to me with the biggest grin I’d ever seen.
“Ember,” she said, “they’re speaking High Equestrian.” Seeing my incredulous face, she added, “They’re ponies.”
Ponies.
Here.
Great. Just my luck. Now I couldn’t even fight them or risk hurting Kitty Hawk’s feeling.
What to do, what to do, what to do…?
We could hide in the jungle and wait for them to leave. We could escape now and face the desert. We could…
It was Kitty Hawk who made the choice. She sat patiently at the edge of the jungle. Shortly, two large ponies emerged. Cloaks covered their bodies except for their legs, but the hoods were thrown back, showing two very colorful bodies. They were pulling a wagon, engaged in a heated debate, and completely oblivious to us.
Both had a certain feminine look to them.
“The proper way to complete a dandelion sandwich is with mayonnaise, pickles, and lettuce,” said the bright blue pony on the left. Her black hair was tied back with a bow. A horn jutted from her forehead.
“Absolutely not,” countered the white pony on the right. “You add hay fries and colby-jack cheese. It's absolutely delicious.” Her yellow hair hung loose.
“Then it becomes a hay fry sandwich,” countered the first.
The pair were nearly on top of Kitty Hawk before she piped up in her energetic, cheerful voice, “Hi, I’m Kitty Hawk.”
Both stopped and turned to look down at her. Several seconds of silence passed. It was the white pony who spoke first. “Pleasure to meet you, Kitty Hawk. I’m Lily Blossom. Where did you come from?”
If I could, I would have rushed forward and shoved a paw over Kitty Hawk’s mouth.
“We came from the Diamond Dog lands and are heading to Equestria,” she said.
I prayed to the stars above: “Please silence her now so that we can make our escape.” Turned out no one was listening.
“We?” asked Lily Blossom.
“Ember and I,” replied Kitty Hawk. “I’m his slave.”
I groaned inwardly.
“Slave?” asked the blue pony, a hint of caution in her voice. “Is this ‘Ember’ a um, a um…”
“He’s a Diamond Dog,” said Kitty Hawk.
That did it. All possibility of a secret escape had just gone and drowned itself in the lake. I was going to be a prisoner of ponies because of Kitty Hawk and her ‘overactive-habit-of-sharing-everything’ with strangers.
The light blue pony was looking noticeably paler. Lily Blossom whispered something into her ear. The blue pony unhitched herself from her wagon and trotted towards the jungle. Once in the trees, she broke out into a furious gallop.
Lily turned back to Kitty Hawk, a forced smile plastered across her face. “Tell me, little one,” she asked, “where is Ember?”
“Oh, he’s over there,” the little traitor pointed her hoof directly at me.
Lily Blossom was doing her best not to stare in my direction. Her smile was still glued in place. “That’s nice,” she said.
There was a pregnant silence.
“I know,” said Lily Blossom, unhooking herself from her wagon, “I’ve got some oat cookies in the back of my wagon. Would you like one?”
“Yes please,” said Kitty Hawk, jumping into the air with excitement.
I didn’t trust these strangers. There was no force of wills, no negotiations, alliances or truce. This ‘Hi, who are you?’ didn’t mean they weren’t an enemy.
“Excellent,” said Lily Blossom, “how about you come to the back of my wagon.”
It was time to retrieve Kitty Hawk. One female pony couldn’t be too much to deal with. Could it?
The pony instantly stiffened when she saw me rise. Her eyes went wide, her pupils dashing about as if trying to decide which way to bolt. The stench of fear coming off of her was intoxicating.
I walked forwards, slowly, deliberately.
Lily Blossom clamped her eyes shut. Her chest was pumping in quick succession, ears splayed back, nostrils flared. Only her legs seemed unwilling to move. “Hello,” she said in a voice that was barely above a squeak.
I ignored her and instead turned to my charge. “It’s time to go,” I said, reaching for Kitty Hawk.
“But Ember,” whined Kitty Hawk. “Can’t we stay?”
“Yes, please stay,” echoed Lily Blossom.
Finally I turned to Lily Blossom. Her eyes were still fiercely clamped shut and she was muttering something under her breath. Listening closely, I heard her repeat, “please don't kill me, please don’t kill me...”
“Why would you want me to stay?” I asked, crossing my arms and staring pointedly at the pony.
“It’s always nice to share a meal with strangers and make new friends,” said Lily Blossom. When nothing happened, she cracked one eye and quickly shut it again. “We’ll be bound by the law of desert hospitality if you accept,” she added.
“What is the “law” of hospitality?” I asked.
“I know, I know!” said Kitty Hawk, bouncing at my feet. She assumed what she thought was a regal stance. “No party may inflict harm against the other while the agreement of hospitality remains in effect.”
“Where did you hear that?” asked Lily Blossom. She looked down at Kitty Hawk. I got the feeling that she was doing her best to pretend that I was only a repulsive statue.
Kitty Hawk’s smile dropped a little. “From a desert pony who led my family through the desert. That was before I met Ember.”
“If I accept,” I asked tentatively, “then you and your clan cannot attack me?”
“That’s correct,” she said, still not looking at me.
“We accept,” said Kitty Hawk, all smiles again.
I glared down at her.
All eyes turned towards me.
Something large and fast burst through the jungle canopy. Its outline briefly cut across the moon. Thunderous hoof steps were closing in on us. The time for our escape was past.
“Then I accept,” I said and sat down in the sand.