//------------------------------// // Action // Story: On Lightning's Wings // by Seawolf //------------------------------// Landing near the crash site, crunching the snow underneath her hooves, Spitfire desperately galloped towards the wreckage in hopes to recover the downed pilot. Besides the cockpit, what remained was engulfed in flames. Through the smoke, she managed to spot Soarin just as he delivered a powerful buck with his front legs to the canopy. A section of its glass managed to break off. “Spitfire! Little help here!” Soarin cried, frantically trying to get the pilot out of the craft. The flames were spreading towards the cockpit. Soarin lifted a wing beside his face, shielding him from the heat as he reached down to tug on the pilot’s jumpsuit. Surprised, he noticed something under the remains of the canopy. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but Soarin saw what appeared to be a rank abbreviation, a name, and likely a nickname stitched into her flight suit: Capt. Lisa “Sapphire” Johannson. He realized whoever the pilot was, she probably held the rank of Captain. The bit after was probably her name, but the words in quotations had to be her nickname. However, figuring those things out wasn’t the top priority. “Dammit! The pilot is stuck!” Soarin growled as he continued to frantically tug on the pilot. Arriving at the scene, Spitfire flew over to where Soarin was frantically tugging. What she immediately saw made her realize why Soarin couldn’t get the pilot out. She was held down by a system of belts. “Soarin, hold the pilot back and give me some space,” she ordered. Soarin stopped his frantic tugging and pushed the pilot back in its seat, grimacing as he felt the heat of the blaze on his fur. Spitfire shimmed into the cockpit, flinching as she felt several shards of glass cut into her hooves. She quickly found what she was looking for, a buckle. Pressing her hoof to it, the belt metallicity clicked and came loose. “Pull!” she yelled, clearing herself from the cockpit. Soarin heaved the pilot out of its seat and flew her to safety. Just before Spitfire caught up to them, a picture on the dashboard caught her eye. Realizing it may be important to the pilot, she grabbed it before taking off with several strong flaps from her wings. Spitfire soared a few meters into the air before she heard the roar of something exploding behind her. The fire managed to completely engulf the aircraft. The shockwave from the blast caused Spitfire to land hard on her belly. She then slid through the snow till she was practically nose-to-nose with Soarin. “Now, then,” Soarin huffed, completely exhausted. “That was interesting.” He looked at Spitfire, who was nearly out of breath. Suddenly, both pegasi heard a low groan. “Ow, my head,” the pilot moaned, rubbing the side of her helmet. Soarin wanted to help the human pilot sit up, but Spitfire gave her a look as if she said let me handle this. “You alright?” She asked in a calm, level, and surprisingly sweet voice. The pilot sat up and raised a trembling hoof or was it a claw? To her helmet and opened the visor. Spitfire blinked in surprise, she hadn’t been expecting in the slightest for the pilot to be a girl. She had rather angelic features, light tan skin, and a pair of deep, clear, luminous shining medium-blue eyes. Those eyes reminded Spitfire about the gem Sapphire. Capt. Lisa “Sapphire” Johansson. The part “Sapphire” suddenly made a lot more sense. Lisa as it were, first gave herself a once over and grimaced. Numerous cuts and scrapes adorned her body, as well as a noticeable gash in her side. Several of them were oozing blood, she took a ragged breath and screwed up her face in pain before putting a trembling claw to her side. Judging by the way she winced, the crash had clearly fractured a few of her ribs. She sighed, her eyes shutting tight from the sharp pain in her side. Opening back up, her eyes then came to rest on the two pegasi. They went from first Spitfire to Soarin and then back to Spitfire. “What the fuck?” she said in a quiet voice. Spitfire mentally recoiled at the usage of sharp language. She had heard such language before, but only when someone just saw something mind-bogglingly stupid happen in front of them. Not seeing a Pegasus, well then, she remembered Equestria was in a totally different dimension. So, her reaction was justified. “What’s wrong?” Soarin asked. “What’s wrong? I must be imagining things, mainly because I have two technicolored ponies from the look of it in front of me, who can also talk. So, I must be imaging things.” Sapphire replied before calmly with one of her claws pinching herself. She sighed. “Nope not dreaming. Alright next question, what are you and how the hell I am I still alive?” she asked as she shook her head. “Myself and Spitfire pulled you out of that wrecked thing before it went up! Name’s Soarin, that’s Spitfire!” Soarin chirped happily, before gesturing to himself and then to Spitfire, then finally to the burning remains of her craft. “As for what we are. We’re both Pegasus.” Spitfire replied with a business-like tone, opening her wings for emphasis. Sapphire dipped her head, clutching it with her claws. She mumbled about how the crash must’ve really screwed her head over. If she believed what’s going on to be real, she’d definitely knew she needed a shrink. However, her concerns right now weren’t important. “While I am grateful for the fact that you saved my life. I’ve just given up one type of death for another. I was fucked even if you didn’t pull me out of my plane, I would’ve burned to death. Not the most pleasant way to go, but at least it would’ve been over quickly. God, this has become some training mission and now instead of getting a relatively quick death it’s going to be a long and miserable one for me,” Sapphire said her voice oddly tranquil and calm. “What do you mean by that?” Soarin asked in a confused tone. And good-bye tranquility, Sapphire’s tone of voice if it could have probably would’ve made Nightmare Moon whimper in sympathy and it caused Spitfire to take a step back and closer to Soarin out of instinct. “Considering the fucking night I’ve had! A quick death by fire would’ve made sure that it was over fucking quick! My squadron mates are all dead, Igloo Base a small enough air base where everyone knows everyone has been completely destroyed killing everyone there, I am behind enemy lines, the built-in helmet transmitter is likely kaput thanks to the crash, and to top it all off, I don’t have access to my full survival kit which means no cold weather clothing, no sleeping bag, no space blanket, no snowshoes, no snow glasses, no survival rifle, no locator beacon, no full-sized first aid kit, and that’s just for starters. If I do survive the day and by that, I mean, avoid capture by Russians or pissing off local wildlife, I am probably going to freeze to goddamned death when night falls. All I got on me is just my fucking FN Five-Seven, a M9 Bayonet, a mini-survival kit, and nothing else in my Survival Vest.” she snarled, slumping back on a smooth rock. Spitfire sighed. “I am sorry to hear about that. But, I am guessing you're wondering where we are from.” she asked. “The thought did enter my mind, but first let’s get moving. The Russians will likely be sending troops to see if the pilot of that thing survived the crash or ejected.” she gestured to the burning remains of her plane and then to herself “Since I survived the crash, we got to get going.” Sapphire announced. “Agreed, we got four no five unknowns on horseless, open-air, carriages moving towards us from the west!” Soarin spoke. Sapphire sprang to her feet in shock, letting out a stream of profanity caused by the pain. Meanwhile, a black matte, L-shaped device came out of a pocket on the vest. “Damnit! We got to move now!” Sapphire growled before breaking into a slow jog heading east. “Why?!” Spitfire asked as she pursed the human. “Because those are Russian soldiers, at best were talking regular army maybe VDV at worst we are likely dealing Spetsnaz Guards Brigade troopers. As it stands I just have a pistol and at best I can only get a shot off with maybe a second between each shot, they are armed with weapons that can fire 10 rounds per second or more if they decide to cut loose. My weapon is only effective out to maybe fifty yards and that’s with head, neck, leg, or arm shots, in order to punch through their armor, I need to be close like 10 yards and, even then, I probably wouldn’t penetrate. I am not wearing any armor, just a survival vest, pressure suit, G-suit, and aviator uniform. They can kill me effortlessly from 300 yards on average, farther than that if they have any sort of optics or scopes on their weapons. You two have done a lot for me, but just go back to wherever you came from. It’ll be easier for you two, the last thing you need to see is watching me get cut to pieces by a fusillade of gunfire, I don’t intend to become a guest of Russians, not willingly of course.” She said with a smile as she grabbed the top part of the matte L and it slide back, she then released it and went forward with a sharp metallic clack. How did I not get incapacitated during that crash? Then again, a pilot may break their neck when their parachute opens or they may walk away from a devastating crash. But, not completely unscathed it would seem. Certainly, got a couple of broken bones at the minimum. Sapphire thought as she broke into a brisk jog away from the Russians. “No way in hell I am abandoning you. Myself and Soarin got you out of that thing alive, we’re going to make sure you get home alive.” Spitfire said and to her surprise Sapphire laughed bitterly. “Yeah, but thanks to having no survival kit, I can’t treat this wound.” The human said as she gestured to her abdomen, part of her uniform was darker than the rest. “I had something hit me in the back and then proceeded to bury itself in the instrument panel, a through and through wound. Without my survival kit I can’t treat it, hell the mini-survival kit that I carry, all it has is just a pocket compass, some safety pins, water purification tablets, a couple of pieces of hard candy, a laser pointer, some Neosporin, a couple of bandages, and a roll of electrician's tape. The bandages I got are just standard size bandages, no way in hell they’d really help. But I can’t reach my back wound, still I am a dead girl anyway. If the Russians and blood loss doesn’t get me, either the wildlife or the cold will get me. Might as well take as many of the bastards with me as I can. If I had my survival rifle, I might stand chance.” Sapphire said in a dejected tone. “Why? What’s so special about your survival rifle?” Soarin asked in a confused tone. Meanwhile behind them, the sound of engines was getting louder and louder. “It’s an M12 Aircrew Survival Rifle, it recently replaced the M4 Survival Rifle. Unlike the M4 Survival Rifle which is chambered in .22 Hornet, and thus is easily stopped by the heavy armor that infantry wears to the point where they won’t even notice a hit. The M12 Aircrew Survival Rifle is chambered in I believe .357 SIG, with two types of rounds issued FMJs for use against enemy soldiers and soft-points for use against varmint for hunting. It’s semi-automatic with upwards of twelve round magazines. The power those rounds have would easily be able to make the Russians think twice, mainly because if I am accurate enough I could penetrate their armor, but only at close range.” Sapphire said as they continued moving. “I see a tree line, it could be easier to fight defensively from beyond it.” Soarin said, gesturing with a hoof. “No, it won’t. That will just give the Russians even more of an advantage. Because I am not wearing armor which does lend a few advantages, mainly in the agility and speed departments I will totally negate those advantages if I leave the cover of the trees. Fighting in terrain such as this will level the playing field somewhat, both sides will be able to use cover and I’ll be able to use my superior agility and speed to my advantage in order to get from cover-to-cover. The combat ranges will also be closer, meaning I may just be able to stand a chance. Still, once the lead starts flying I want you two to bug-out. No offense, but you two kinds of stick out like sore thumbs and would just wind up being a bullet magnet and I don’t know a thing about your anatomy. Besides, this is going to become hot, so when I say so just get going.” Sapphire said in an authoritative voice. “No way! We aren’t abandoning you. We got you out of the wreckage of your craft alive and we’re going to make sure that you get home.” Spitfire said calmly. “Like hell you are, trust me death by getting shot isn’t pretty.” Sapphire said and a moment later, even though the engines were getting louder, a new sound caused both Pegasi and the human to look up. It was the scream of a jet engine. “Really wish I was up there.” Sapphire muttered, laying behind a tree and taking a deep breath. Meanwhile, the sound of engines stopped. “Naydi etogo pilota Yanki!” A harsh commanding voice growled. “da ser!” several other voices barked in response. The distinct sound of snow being crunched under heavy combat boots reached their ears. Sapphire peered out from around the tree and quickly spotted the Russian infantry. There was five of them, judging from the fatigues they were members of the Spetsnaz Guards, four of them were armed with either Assault Rifles or Carbines, but Sapphire wasn’t sure what they were, but the lead one was armed with an LMG. An LMG was bad news, if the Russian opened fire with it, well the thing would tear her apart. Granted so would the Assault Rifles, but the LMG would really ruin her day. “Remember what I told you two?” Sapphire told Soarin and Spitfire who both nodded. “Good, get going. Because here goes nothing.” With that she rolled out of cover, brought the black matte-L up and in front of her eyes. One of her claws slowly pulled back on something under the top part of the “L”. With a sharp pulse of fire that erupted out of one end of the matte L and a loud crack. The pistol bucked in response, part of it sliding back and ejecting a gleaming object. Downrange, one of the figures stumbled cursing. “Der'mo, chto bol'no! Ikh yanki! Oruzhiye besplatno!” someone growled. Sapphire didn’t let up, the Five-Seven spat fire twice more, producing a loud crack each time. Finally, the figure which was the target of her wrath dropped with a thud. “Paren' ubit! Paren' ubit!” Someone shouted as Sapphire dove behind a tree. Moments later a sound like thunder filled the air. Ferns and snow exploded as something responded to Sapphire’s actions. Sapphire glanced over her shoulder and spotted Spitfire and Soarin rapidly fleeing. Good, no innocents were going to get caught in the crossfire. She peeked around the tree she was hiding behind, spotted a Russian moving rapidly from cover-to-cover. She saw her chance as the Russian began to run to his next bit of cover, Sapphire came out of cover as far as she dared and fired twice, smiling slightly in satisfaction as with a cry of pain one of her rounds annihilated the man’s knee. The other round missed. That’s when she heard a thud to her left. She glanced and spotted a grenade. Aw shit. She thought as she took a flying leap away from the thing and into the open. The grenade detonated with a resounding boom. Sapphire snarled in pain as several fragments buried themselves into the meaty part of her thigh. She converted her flying leap into a roll, and got behind a tree. Cursing as she felt new stinging wounds from where a round had grazed her back and from where the shrapnel had buried themselves in her legs. If there was one thing that Soarin hated, it was getting run-off. Still he hadn’t questioned why Sapphire had forced them to leave her behind. Now she was fighting foes who were both better armed, armored, and likely trained. “Argh! Buck!” Soarin growled suddenly, before ceasing his flight and going into a hover. “Soarin? What’s wrong?” Spitfire asked as she decelerated and entered a hover looking confused at Soarin. “Have you ever been forced to do something that you know is wrong?” Soarin asked in a sharp tone. “Not really, no. Except for a rescue mission in Horseshoe Bay going sideways, I was forced to leave the ship because it began to capsize even though there was still two Mares and a Filly onboard. The sight of watching them first getting dumped in the water and then dragged under by the suction created when that ship sank. Their cries for help have haunted me ever since.” Spitfire said in a sorrowful voice. “I remember that mission, but for me. It was the Sun Valley disaster, a filly died because I couldn’t dig her out of the snow fast enough after that avalanche. She died in my hooves, alone and scared. Now I had a chance to actually redeem myself in terms of saving someone from mortal peril and I allowed myself to follow orders like a fresh recruit.” Soarin said dejectedly. “You're talking about Sapphire, right?” Spitfire asked in a semi-worried tone. Mainly because well, knowing Soarin this meant that their lives were about to get very interesting. “Yes, you saw how she felt. She’s staring death in the face and knows that no matter what she does that it’s going to claim her. Can you imagine how terrifying that must be!? Princess Celestia has always said that Equestria is a place for second chances and I want to grant her a second chance.” Soarin said, beginning to get antsy about it. “Ugh! I get that Soarin, Equestria has always been a place for second chances. But, why? You heard what she said! Her squadron mates are dead as is everyone at the base she had operated out of, which need I remind you was small enough that she had met everyone on base. So, if we rescue her, how would we help her? Emotionally I mean? She would likely receive a condition that nopony has ever heard of before!” Spitfire said, bringing up several points that were in mind valid. “So? How would you feel if you had the chance to protect somepony and yet you were ordered to do something that you knew was wrong? Would you follow those orders or would do you what you know is right?” Soarin asked in a firm tone. “Ugh, your dead set on this aren’t you?” Spitfire said with a deep sigh and got her answer when Soarin nodded in response. “Great, you realize we don’t have our combat gear, right?” Spitfire asked in a worried tone. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. If we remain on the move and use our ability to fly against them. We should be fine.” Soarin said and before Spitfire had the chance to reply, Soarin turned 180 degrees and rocketed in the direction from which they came. “Wha? Celestia-dammit, Soarin! Wait for me!” Spitfire cried and raced after Soarin who was already going transonic. Sapphire dove behind a tree, a burst of gunfire barely missing her, and took stock of the situation. There was still three active Russian Spetsnaz Guard Riflemen. All three of them were armed with what she was mostly certain that they were AK-107s, chambered in 5.45x39mm and capable of a rate of fire of 850 rounds per minute. Plus, their armor was proving to be as tough to crack as she had feared. To make matters worse, she was almost completely out of ammunition. Pilots only carried two magazines on them, with one in the pistol, with the weapon unchambered, not charged, and the safety off. Also, they only had one spare magazine. Each magazine had twenty-rounds, by her count she’d fired thirty-four rounds. That meant she only had six bullets left and then she was down to her M9 Bayonet, her Five-Seven which could be used as a club, and her wits. In addition to that she had also been grazed several times by rounds and had taken a single hit to her shoulder and had several fragments from a grenade in one of her thighs. The bullet wound while it wasn’t exactly in the joint, but the round had struck close enough to it that the wound had rendered her left arm almost useless. The wound hurt as if someone had rammed thousands of red hot needles into her left shoulder and the wounds that she had her in thigh and shoulder were bleeding profusely. This meant that she was only able to fire one-handed. Which meant she was going to be less accurate overall and even if she did survive. She was probably going to be dead by noon from blood loss, as it stood it was already starting to affect her, so it was probably more like ten hundred hours that she’d be dead. She took a deep breath, ready to meet her maker. That’s when something unexpected happened. A voice, one that sounded very familiar yelled a battle cry that made Sapphire blink in response. “FOR EQUESTRIA!” What followed next was surprising, there was a shout of surprise, followed by a scream, and then a thud. “Chto za? SVYATOY FUTK! PAREN' UBIT! SMOTRITE, CHTO VESHCH'!” One of the Russians yelled and a moment later, two AK-107s began to thunder. Wait, just two AK-107s? Wasn’t their three Russians remaining? Seeing her chance, she rolled out of cover and what she saw surprised her. “What the fuck?” she muttered. One of the Russians was down, his head taken off his shoulders. Two shapes were flying around weaving through the trees like racing remote controlled drones with incredible speed and agility. One of the shapes appeared to be a red and orange blur and the other a light blue and dark blue blur where trying to keep the Russians off-balance. Sapphire realized with a start as well as surprise that it was Spitfire and Soarin, what the hell where those two technicolor idiots trying to pull? Not that Sapphire was complaining her pistol came up and fired five times in rapid succession. The Russian she was aiming at dropped like a rock unmoving. Then Soarin with a high-pitched cry raced toward the remaining Russian. “Break-off!” she started to yell in a hope to get Soarin to not charge into a ready Russian Spetsnaz Guard who knew your primary method of attack when you entered Close-Quarters Combat. That always resulted in your ass getting kicked. Unfortunately, Soarin either didn’t hear her warning or ignored it. As it stood though, the results were predictable. Soarin streaked into view, certainly, faster than the Russian probably expected, but not quick enough to throw off his timing. The Spetsnaz Wolf moved fast, two thick gloved hands grabbed Soarin around the neck and chest, arresting all forward motion in almost an instant. The force of the impact shoved the Russian back at least a full yard, but didn’t topple him. Soarin for about five seconds had the most surprised and comical expression on his face and then with a roar, the Russian Spetsnaz Wolf slammed the unfortunate pegasus into the ground where he landed on his back with a hefty crunch. Sapphire winced at the noise. At first, she thought the blow had killed the pegasus until she heard him groan in pain. Ooooooh! Doesn’t matter where you're from, that’s gotta hurt! Sapphire thought grimly. The unfortunate pegasus stallion had to be seeing stars or Spetsnaz Guard shoulder patches after that hit, because that looked like that had hurt. The Russian then ducked and caused an attempt to strike down the enemy soldier by Spitfire to miss. He scooped up his rifle and emptied the clip in the direction which he expected the other Pegasus to be. Judging by the lack of shouts or cries in pain, he probably missed. Meanwhile, Soarin was groaning and just starting to roll over and bring himself to his hooves. But it was clear as day that he was obviously still out of it. The Russian meanwhile calmly reloaded his weapon, the spent magazine falling to the snow and a new one being slotted in place. The rifle was then leveled right at Soarin’s face, the Pegasus’s ears dropped in shock for only a moment, before his wings flared out defensively in probably an instinctual reaction to make himself look bigger than he was, to compliment the affair Soarin reared and whinnied loudly. The Russian took a step back for a moment, obviously impressed and probably surprised by Soarin’s display before starting to level the rifle at the Pegasus again. Oh no you don’t! Sapphire thought and leveled her pistol and pulled the trigger. Instead of bang like she had been expecting. The sound that came from her gun was instead much louder, the dreaded dead man’s click. What the f- Oh fuck me! Sapphire thought when she realized her firearm suffered from a misfire. The last round she had was a dud! Sapphire huffed, knowing she was left with one choice. Soarin and Spitfire had saved her life, and now it was time to return the favor. She swore it could kill her. “Sorry Soarin, but this is going to hurt me a hell of a lot more than it is going to hurt you,” she muttered as she exploded into a sprint at the same time she threw her pistol away, it was worthless now anyway. With a grunt, she kicked and managed to get her boot under Soarin and with a startled cry coming from him, punted the light blue Pegasus away and to safety. A split-second later, the Russian pulled the trigger. Three rounds ripped directly into Sapphire’s right hip. She tumbled to the ground, screaming in agony. Soarin watched as the ‘Russian’ rifleman approached the downed aviator and pulled out an object exactly like the one that Sapphire had been carrying earlier, he ran his claw across the top and pulled something back before releasing it and then leveled the weapon at her. “It’s over Yankee pilot!” the ‘Russian’ growled at her in a thick accent, extremely similar to a Stalliongrad accent. That’s when suddenly Spitfire appeared, the mare looked angry and was clearly at full capability, she streaked toward the ‘Russian’ who was standing triumphantly over Sapphire at nearly seventy miles per hour. With a powerful cry, she planted her front hooves directly into the back of the ‘Russian’ and it resulted in a strangled cry of pain as well as a very nice sounding crunch coming from the man and pitched him face first into the snow. Sapphire who was still on the ground saw her chance as the ‘Russian’ scrambled back to its feet and emptied another magazine, this time though the sound was different, after Spitfire and like before it resulted in absolutely no hits on the Pegasus Mare. The human pilot pulled out an object from her ‘survival vest’, and with a shouted cry of “Hooah motherfucker!” threw it. Whatever it was, the result was immediate. The ‘Russian’ let out a gurgled scream which made Soarin shudder in response as the human collapsed and went still. Soarin shook himself out of what had just occurred before exploding into a full-fledged gallop toward Sapphire. “Sapphire!” Soarin cried as he reached her. The human aviator looked at him, her eyes filled with sorrow and pain, she was on her back, attempting to hold herself up with one hand, but after a moment she lowered herself back to the ground. Her right hip was just … a bloody mess. “Hey Soarin.” Sapphire greeted weakly. She glanced down at her hip or rather what was left of it. “I am screwed now. Can’t walk, not with an utterly destroyed hip bone. I am bleeding profusely with no way to stop it. Heh, I guess this is it.” she said with a slight laugh. Spitfire landed nearby and galloped over herself. She recoiled when she got a look at Sapphire’s injuries. “Sweet Celestia.” she muttered. “You going to be alright?!” Soarin asked. Sapphire snorted. “At best, I have maybe thirty minutes to live. But, it’s probably more like five or ten minutes at most.” she said before taking a ragged breath, wincing in pain. Spitfire and Soarin shared a look and with a sigh, Spitfire stood up. “I am going to get help! I’ll be back as quick as I can.” she said and then she spread her wings and took-off. “Hey Sapphire.” Soarin started and the human turned her head to gaze at the Pegasus. “Yes?” she croaked out. “Thanks for saving my life. Honestly, I don’t know how Spitfire would’ve been able to take it, seeing me get killed like I would’ve been had you not punted me out of the way.” Soarin said, his tone grateful. Although he didn’t mention it, he had a surprise kick to get him out of the way probably broke at least two ribs maybe more. Of course, the unexpected tackle from the ‘Russian’ probably left him with several bones that were either cracked, bruised, dislocated, sprained, or broken. “No problem, you saved my life earlier today and I returned the favor.” Sapphire said, giving a visible wince with each word spoken. It was clear that she was fading and fast. Hurry Spitfire, in the name of Celestia just hurry! Sapphire doesn’t have much time left! Soarin thought in a panic, before putting his hooves to the wound in Sapphire’s hip in a frantic attempt to stem the bleeding. Sapphire struggled with the effort, but managed to lift a hand and put it on Soarin’s cheek. “Thanks, Soarin for trying, but like it or not I am done for. The temperature isn’t helping my case here. Still, thanks for making the last bit of my life interesting, even more so than it was made out to be.” She said weakly, her eyes glittering with tears, a faint smile on her face. Moments later, an immense and distinctive twin sonic boom rolled over them. To Soarin, it signaled that Spitfire was on her way to Equis. “Sapphire please, just hang on! Spitfire should be back soon, alright! We’ll get you out of here!” Soarin pleaded. However, Sapphire didn’t respond, she had lost consciousness, from loss of blood. Spitfire! Where the hell are you?! Soarin thought as he remained by Sapphire’s side, praying to every god and goddess that he knew that Spitfire would arrive with help in time. Soarin calmly put a hoof to the human’s neck and was relieved when a weak pulse fluttered against it. But, that same pulse seemed to be fading slowly. Then suddenly, there was a brilliant flare of white light and Soarin caught a glimpse of two figures within it.