//------------------------------//
// Running (to) the mine 
// Story: The Misadventures of a Fox 
// by LucidDreamer 
//------------------------------//

Dustin suddenly got an overwhelming sense of dread, causing his whole body to shiver.
“Ya okay boss?” Flint asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion.
“Fine, just...fine,” Dustin muttered as he looked the blueprints over for a fifth time.  “What were we on?”
“Ya sure? Ya seem a li’ttle ou’ a it.” Flint furrowed his brow.
“Mostly because of the steep learning curve here,” the digi-fox explained.  “I can feel my eyes glossing over when you explain things.”  He shook his head.  “It’s not so much a learning curve as a learning...cliff…”
Flint noticed that Dustin’s posture seemed to change at that.  He sat up a little straighter, smiled more, and actually looked excited.
“Uhhh… Ah don’t know ‘ow ta help ya.” Flint shrugged. “Dough it may ‘elp if’n Ah show ya around prop’rly.”
“Flint,” Dustin whispered.  “I think I finally get it.  I think I know how to think about the whole thing of being the boss.  One of my favorite games back home was about running a fortress of dwarves, from the initial starting seven until when you, ultimately, lost.  Because there was no way to say you’d ‘won’.  But it was all about micromanaging every aspect of the fortress, from start to finish.  You told them what to do, from getting food, to where to dig, to store things...that’s me.  I finally get it!”
“Eh… Good.” Flint blinked. “Bu’ why’d ya play a game where ya los'?”
“As summed up by the motto of the game, ‘Losing is Fun,’” Dustin quipped.  “It’s not so much the losing as the journey you took to get to it.  There were so many ways to lose as well.  But making a fortress that stood up to everything the environment could throw at you up until it broke you?  That was fun in and of itself.”
“Sooo…. I’s not da losin’ that’s fun, i’s how ya lose?” Flint’s brow furrowed further as her scratched his chin with a claw. “No…. is it fun because ya know why ya lose each time?”
“Exactly!  Each fortress was better than the last,” Dustin summed up.  “The first fortress, probably not that great.  But you learn things about it.  Then you make adjustments to how you make your fortress, try again...and still end up losing.  But it’s a learning process.  Every time you lose, you make a better one.  And there were some people that made fortresses deliberately in cursed evil biomes, where dead things walked after you struck them down.  Or where everything was frozen, and even finding water was hard.  Or where there was an aquifer, and if you dug into it, your fortress would be flooded.  Challenges that they learned how to deal with, so that others could learn.  Losing is fun, because in a game made by a single man, we were still finding new ways to lose!”
“Ah tink Ah get it?” Flint blinked, looking very lost.
“Think of it like this,” Dustin said.  “How many times has the mine fallen on hard times?  How many times has a warchief done something...phenomenally stupid?”
“More times den Ah can coun’.” Flint chuckled. “Dere were a lot a stupid decisions made by greedy warchiefs.”
“Now, if we were to write them all down in a book, we could probably title it, ‘How not to run a mine,’ right?” Dustin continued.  “And yet, despite all that failure, you’re still here.  Losing, failing, it’s just another way of saying, ‘Well, we’ll never do that again.’  It doesn’t matter if you make a mistake, as long as you learn from it and don’t make any efforts to do it again.”
“Ah get it now.” Flint grinned. “Survivin’ teaches ya quick what not ta do.”
“And being able to simulate it in a game that simulates entire worlds, has taught me quite a bit about how to run a fortress,” Dustin said.  “I just never put together ‘Dwarf fortress’ with ‘Diamond Dog mine’ until now.”  His finger trailed along the blueprints.  “I think if I treat it like that...I might actually be able to understand how it all works.  So...ready for an overseer’s checklist?”
“Yes boss!” Flint grinned as he picked up an empty scroll from the table and a sharpened piece of charcoal.
“Food,” Dustin started off with.  “How are we getting it?  Do we have enough for every dog to have a full meal when they need it?”
“Yes boss. In fact, let me show ya around ta dah spots where we get food.” Flint grinned. “Follow me.”
After about roughly ten minutes of walking, seemingly straight down, in mostly silence, due to Dustin having to watch his footing. They came to a large open cavern. The only source of light was a soft neon green glowing coming off some quite enormous mushrooms. Smaller mushrooms dotted the floor and green lichen grew all over the walls. Various dogs were milling about either harvesting the smaller mushrooms and lichen or checking on the progress of the fungi’s growth.
“Dis ‘ere boss, is da mushroom farms. We’ve got three caverns of dese and dese are one of two food sources. Da other is dis way.” Flint gestured a paw at the farms. “I’n ya follow me, Ah can show ya ta our other food source.”
“Well, so far it’s much like one of my old forts,” Dustin quipped.  “I have some ideas already for helping improve your food quality, but I’ll let you show me to your other way before I make suggestions.  ‘If it works, don’t knock it.’”
“True.” Flint nodded.
The pale dog lead Dustin through more dimly lit tunnels. These were less hewn than the mine proper and were mainly lit by some smaller glowing fungi on the walls. Soon the scent and sound of water met Dustin's ears. Dustin couldn’t help but feel a tad worried when the tunnel began to expand, and it only ratcheted up higher when he passed some barricades seemingly dug out of the rock itself. Behind the barricades were small rooms carved out of the rock with mats on the floor. Probably places for the guards to rest. The barricades were guarded by some massive dogs clad in what Dustin took to be iron. They gripped massive sledge hammers in their paws. Even though they appeared relaxed, the dog’s ears twitched back and forth, listening for any danger.
“Ah never get tired a dis.” Flint grinned as the tunnel expanded and opened into an absolutely colossal cavern. The air was thick with mist and the large cavern was lit by more of those large mushrooms. High above teal lights slowly blinked like tiny stars. The lights bounced of massive columns of crystal that were larger than any formations he’d seen and stretched all the way to the ceiling high above. The cavern was so massive that he couldn’t see the end of it. Only a couple dozen feet away, water lapped at the rock beneath their feet.
“Before ya ask boss. We are a ways down now. Sometimes ya can’t tell due ta da tunnels.” Flint explained, nudging the fox.
“Well, it’s beautiful, but I’m worried about the fact that you need guards here and that you said it was your other source of food,” the fox voiced his concerns, even as he looked around a bit.  “Something tells me you don’t practice herding underground livestock.”
“Naw, but yer on da righ’ track.” Flint chuckled.
Suddenly there was a tremendous splash as a massive dog came flying out of the water. It slammed into the bank with a crash. As if it didn’t even feel it, the dog got up and shook itself roughly. Dustin was shocked to find that this dog was female, though she was as built as the larger dogs he’d seen, perhaps mores so. She was a deep earthy brown, with bright amber eyes. She wore a thicker version of the guard’s armor and was actually dual-wielding two of those massive hammers. She also looked abjectly pissed.
A guttural growl left her throat as something else followed her out of the water.
It was a massive lobster. A massive bright blue lobster with two sets of massive pincers. It scuttled out of the water towards the massive bitch, who held her ground. It lashed out with two of it’s pincers. The bitch only took a step back and the pincers slammed into the ground where she’d been moments ago. Taking a step forward she swung both her hammers and smashed the pincers into little more than pulp. The lobster reared back and let out a hiss, which didn’t last long as the bitch stepped forward, swinging both hammers in a horizontal arc. The hammers met at what could be considered the lobsters head, and left it much flatter than it’d been moments before. There wasn’t even a jerk. The massive lobster simply dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
The bitch snorted and shook her hammers, dislodging any lobster gunk. She easily hefted the hammers to her shoulders and slid them into holsters on her back. She popped her neck then grabbed the lobster’s remains with a single paw and turned around.
She froze when she saw the two males looking at her. “Oh…” Came the surprisingly soft voice. “‘Ello….. Ah didn’t… ummmmm….”
“Hi Quartz.” Flint waved.
“Flint’s showing me how the mine gets food,” Dustin supplied.  “I have to say, I was concerned at first, but you put those to rest.  Excellent form there.”
“Oh… tanks… you mus' be da new boss dat everydoggy’s talkin’ abou’.” Quartz said standing up a little straighter.
“Quartz ‘ere doesn’t come up from below that much.” Flint explained.
“I’s jus’ nice and quiet down ‘ere mostly…” Dustin noticed her small blush.
“Oh, and if’n ya couldn’t tell, dem Rock Lobsters are our main source a meat. Take a bit ta cook prop’erly but dey worth it.” Flint said pointing at the massive carcass. “Hmmmm, maybe we should ead ta storage or da kitchen’s next….”
“Kitchens are important,” Dustin agreed.  “Also, while you’re at it, you should tell me if dogs brew alcohol, if it’s considered important to have a drink, how often if so, and where you brew it if you do.  That’s the next thing I’d check on my list.”
Both Flint and Quartz stared at him. It honestly made Dustin feel uncomfortable. Flint spoke up. “Wha’s a dog without ‘is ale?”
“See, these are things I didn’t know,” Dustin said.  “In my fortress game, every dwarf had the line, ‘needs alcohol to get through the working day.’  So I’m just making sure here.”
“Dese dwarfs sound like nice people.” Quartz spoke up with a smile.
“From what I ‘ear dey are.” Flint nodded. “But, if’n Ah’m tinkin’ right’, Ah tink dat we’ll be able ta hit Storage, Brewery, and Kitchens in one go.”
“That works for me,” Dustin nodded.  “I’d want to check storage anyways.  Some overseers used to make just a pile for...everything.  A better way to do it would be to store raw goods next to workshops, while you store finished goods in a central location.  Food next to dining rooms, seeds next to farms...things like that.”
“Well, Ah tink you like da set up.” Flint chuckled. “Ya comin’ Quartz?”
Quartz blushed. “O-oh. Sure.”
Flint lead Dustin and Quartz, half-carrying, half-dragging her kill behind her, back towards the mine proper. Surprisingly there was room enough for both Quartz and her kill to follow them. They went up a couple levels from the rough hewn farming areas, back towards the more clean cut stonework. The sound of dogs toiling away echoed in the distance. He lead them into what Dustin first assumed to be the massive borehole shaft, but he swiftly noticed that this one wasn’t anywhere near as wide, nor did it go all the way up to the surface. It also had a large central pillar that had bridges that linked different levels. It still bore the spiral-style walkway of the other shaft however, yet this time they were at the top. This one only went down about five levels though. Dogs were milling about on all the levels, sounds of both conversation and various types of work echoed around the large chasm.
“Down we go.” Flint said as he began his limping walk down the path.
“Alright, I’m already impressed, and I haven’t seen anything yet,” Dustin admitted as he followed after Flint.
“Dis is da Causeway. I’s a direct route to basically everywhere.” Flint gestured at the bridges. “Dese are fer paws traffic at evening. Dis path ‘ere can be used fer the transportin’ of larger items, like wha’ Quartz is doin’.”
“Makes sense,” Dustin agreed.  “I tended to make forts based around a large, central staircase leading up and down levels as well.  One huge traffic highway for everyone to use.  Glad to see it’s a sensible decision.”
“‘E thinks like a dog.” Dustin heard Quartz murmur.
Flint led them down a level and into a wide hall that split into multiple rooms. Each room was stuffed with various gems, rocks and other minerals. “While it’s not perfec’, dis is where we store all da resources we pull from da stone.” He pointed down the hall where the sound of minework could be heard much clearer. “Dat leads towards da main borehole. Actually, da borehole is where dis mine star’ed. Ponies thing we star’ed underground.” Flint shook his head with a chuckle. “Dat’s jus’ a story. Dogs jus’ been here a long time.”
“Mmm.  Well,” Dustin nodded.  “This looks like a good place to store things for a bit.  Though we should take and put raw stones near masonry workshops, so that they don’t have to walk as far to find good, high-quality stones to work with.  Having trade goods made out of stone, or just bricks and tiles made out of stone, would speed things along.  Construction of new things would go faster, and we could trade what we have plenty of - rocks, - for things we need.”
Flint nodded. “Good, but we’re no’ done on dis level.” Flint made a gesture to continue and the group returned to the Causeway.
“Ah’m gonna bring dis ta da kitchens.” Quartz announced awkwardly. “Ummm… Ah’ll be back?”
“No worries…” Flint shook his head with a smile.
“Yeah, I’ll probably be getting acquainted with how things work for a while,” Dustin agreed.  “You bring your catch to the kitchens, I’m sure the mine will appreciate it.”
Quartz blushed, gave a small yip, then swiftly ran off dragging her kill behind her.
“Ya done it now.” Flint shook his head.
“I can’t compliment a dog on their skills?” Dustin asked.  “Goodness knows the only thing I’ll be good for is fighting off Warchiefs and management.  A compliment is a good way to tell the dogs I appreciate them working hard for someone that essentially stormed in and took over.”
“Ha!” Flint barked. “No, i’s not dat.” He should his head. “Quartz gots a crush on ya.” A wolfish grin split his face. “Dat’s both good and bad. Good cause da other bitches’ll pick up on dat. Bad cause now you’ll have an awkward bitch tryin’ ta earn yer favor.”
“Of course,” Dustin groaned.  “Let’s...worry about that later.  Okay, I’ve seen the storeroom, the farms, the cavern...I’d suggest the kitchens, but we’d just run into Quartz.  Um...lemme think.”  He scratched his head for a moment.  “Uh...metalworking.  How is the mine doing?  Do we have enough ore?  Do we need to find some more?”
Flint walked over to Dustin and patted his head. “Calm yer head boss, yer with dogs. Dogs know da meaning of patience…. Wellll.. most do. Da dogs who captured white pony were young and impatient.” He chuckled. “Dey learned dere lesson. Now, I did say dat we had more on this level.” He turned back around and walked out of the Storeroom.
“Oh...you’re right, you did,” Dustin agreed.  “Sorry, I forgot myself.  Carry on.”
Flint lead him along the ring surrounding their level of the Causeway. They passed more rooms, but Dustin didn’t get to get a chance to get a good look at them. As they walked along, Dustin looked down and noticed something interesting. The top ring was the largest, each ring got smaller. So, if he so desired, he could jump down to each lower ring.
“Boss.” Flint got his attention. Dustin’s ears perked up and he saw Flint gesture him forward. “Ya mention ‘quality stone.’” Dustin, confused, walked up to join the pale dog. On seeing what lay inside the room his jaw dropped.
It was a masonry workshop. It was quite a tall and open room, carved out in a rough square shape. Torches hung on the walls, illuminating the various tools piled on stone tables, and papers covered in measurements. Along the left side of the room were massive cubes of what he assumed was granite, that were neatly stacked together. Massive boulders lay piled along the right wall. Directly across was a massive doorway with a set of tracks leading out of it. Nearby the doorway Dustin and Flint stood in a pair of small dogs were looking at a paper covered in numbers and pictures of blocks. Along the right wall large dog was piling boulders together.
“Dem tracks lead back ta da Borehole. From dere da stones can go anywhere in da mine.” Flint explained.
“Well, it’s nice to see you have this well in hand, then,” Dustin admitted.  “I think with this amount of stone, you could do just about anything you wanted.  Building things should be no problem for you all.  It’s nice to see that even under incompetent leaders, you had your shit together.”
“A course.” Flint blinked. “What, ya assumed that we all did what da boss said without question? Well, wit’ dat last one we kinda ‘ad to else ‘e’d kill us, but most a tha time da other bosses just let us do wha’ever and occasionally showed up ta beat us inta submission.”
“Well, I will still let you do whatever, but I don’t think I need to beat anyone,” Dustin said casually.  “I’m not going to be some tyrant, controlling everything you can and can’t do.  I’ll suggest things and it’ll be up to you all to do them if you think you can.  And if not, well, just explain why not and I’ll try to be a better boss.”
“Ah tink dat’s a good workin’ relationship.” Flint nodded. “Now, next level.”
Flint lead Dustin out, and the moment they started down the main path, scents wafted into his nose. “We’re comin’ up on da brewery.” They hit the next level and the scents of brewing alcohol were almost overpowering. He lead Dustin into a massive room filled with stills that almost reached the ceiling. Furnaces gurgled and dogs ran around checking pressure and arguing over ingredients. A doorway to the right barely revealed boxes of something. A dog nearby was squinting into a glass filled with a light green, foamy liquid.
“It’s nice to see that some traditions are still in force,” Dustin managed to get out.  Darn this fox sense of smell.  He’d still not gotten used to being able to sense more things than he could previously.  He swore his nose curled at the smell of so much alcohol.
“Ya don’ look so good.” Flint frowned. “Da smells do take a bit ta get used ta. Let’s get ya outta ‘ere.”
“I can agree to that,” the fox nodded as he let the white dog lead him out.  “Okay,” he said when they were clear.  “So you have a brewing operation that most forts would kill for.  Nice.  We won’t have to worry about a dog not getting their drink.”
“That never really happens, especially since we’ve los’ some dogs recently.” Flint frowned.
“We’ll have to fix that,” Dustin stated, his voice full of conviction.  “We want the mine to have plenty of happy, working dogs.”
“Well, one things that’d help is lettin’ tha bitches not be limited only ta you, boss.” Flint looked over at Dustin as the walked out of the Brewery and started towards the next level. “Ya do know, tha’s a thing right? I’s somethin’ boss’s tend ta keep in place.”
“...This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Dustin admitted.  “Just...why would that be a thing?  I can think of so many problems with a policy like that.”
“Bosses tended ta be greedy. Dey also convinced da other dogs that bosses bred smarter dogs. But all it did was make bigger, dumber dogs. Oh, dah tings we used ta be capable of. Da tings we could be capable of wit more dogs.” Flint got a far off look in his eye.
“Yeah, well…” Dustin snorted.  “I’m not going to start a eugenics program to breed smarter dogs, but I do agree that with more, smarter dogs, you all could be capable of a lot more.  The big, dumb dogs have their uses too, in military and keeping us safe, but I’d prefer all the dogs who work here to be intelligent.”
“As would Ah.” Flint nodded, then a smirk grew on his lips. “Ah think ya may want ta leave quick like after da tours done.”
“...If I ask why, I’m just going to be disappointed again, aren’t I?” Dustin deadpanned.  “It’s not like I can, though.  Rarity and I had a fight, and we both need some time away from each other.  This is the only other place I can be away from her.”
Flint looked shocked. “Ya ‘ad a fight wit’ white pone? Well shit. I only said dat cause did mine gon turn inta one giant fuck pile for a day or two, once the bitches relieve all dere pent up stress. So ya might want some ear plugs or somethin, unless ya know a guy ya can crash wit’ for a day or two.”
“Sorry, I think I’m stuck here,” Dustin shook his head.  “It’s not like my other options are much better.  So...I think the next few things on my list are metals and military.  How’s our smithing look?”
“Well, I was gonna show you da kitchens and cold storage, but we can skip dat if ya like. We’d just have ta skip dis next level and go through da Halls a da Stone Speakers ta get ta da Barracks, and da Barracks leads directly ta da Forge, and da Forge leads back ta da Borehole.” Flint tapped his chin in thought. “Dat shouldn' be a problem….. Huh…. Boss how old are ya?”
“Just about twenty,” Dustin replied.  “Also, if the kitchens are on the next level, you might as well show them to me.  It’d be a shame to not see them.  We’ll make this tour comprehensive, with as little backtracking as possible.”
“Wow... “ Flint blinked. “Yer da younges’ boss we’ve ever ‘ad. Younges’ before you was a’ leas’ two-’undred an’ ten.” Flint shrugged. “No ma’a’, Kitchens it is.”
“...You’re going to tell me how long dogs live for later,” Dustin promised as he followed the white dog.
Flint glanced at him. “Well, mos' dogs don’ live pas' four’ey ta fif’ey due ta mine accidents, combat wit’ somethin’, or an un’appy boss.”
“...And yet you still have quite the population of dogs,” Dustin pointed out.  “Guessing that’s a combination of high birth rates and stupidly greedy bosses.”
“Litt’le a both.” Flint nodded. “There are very few dogs ‘ere that can remember older times.” Flint stopped, seemingly lost in thought. “... Ah remember da day when day Sun never rose… When da Sun an’ Moon clashed… When da White Lady fought da Blood Drinker….” Flight shivered. “Dose were dark times….”
“...Okay then, moving swiftly on,” Dustin said, now wondering just how old Flint was.  “Let’s see these kitchens.”
Flint shook himself and smiled. “Righ’. Right ya are.’” He chuckled and finished leading them down to where the smells of cooked meat wafted out of a wide open doorway. The sounds of crackling flames and the chatter of a few dogs met them as they entered a wide room filled with tables. Said tables were covered in various foodstuffs, though mostly consisting of butchered Rock Lobster or various forms of mushrooms. Large ovens in the walls rumbled as large cooking fires raged within them. Dustin’s eyes followed the smoke and he noticed holes in the ceiling. Returning his gaze back to the kitchen proper he noted a couple doorways. One was open to the air and appeared filled with boxes, the other was closed off by a large iron door. A familiar large bitch was standing by a table, chatting with a smaller bitch who in turn was cleaning the Rock Lobster carcass.
“Okay, so I’m seeing mostly cave food fare, not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Dustin noted to Flint.  “But you all could probably stand to have a bit more variety in your diet.  Have you ever thought about farming some surface crops?”
Flint nodded. “We would. ‘Owever day ponies don’t take kindly ta us in general. Our Borehole borders da Everfree and it’s only a few miles northwes’ a pony town. We’d use da Everfree but dat’s a bit too dangerous. Dere’s White’ail Wood but dat’s righ’ next ta pony town. We don’ go’ a lot a options.”
“Hmm,” Dustin hummed, thinking it over.  “How about...you make a farm for surface crops...in the mine?”  At the white dog’s stunned look, he explained.  “Hear me out here.  What if you put the farm for surface crops at the top of the mine, just at the border between the underground and the surface, then removed the ceiling so it was open to the outside air and light?  If you put up a wall to make sure that nobody, especially ponies, just fell in, it could be a good field for growing things like grains, vegetables, and fruits.”
“Dat’s not a bad idea.” Flint mused, then smiled. “Ya, we could use some of the mine’s top most levels, da one’s we don’ really use no more. But open da ceiling, have our Stone Speakers build up a nice wall…. Ya I tink dat could work.” He nodded.
“Nice to see my ‘indoors outdoors’ garden plans also hold up in the real world,” Dustin smiled as he looked at the kitchens.  “Hmmm...this brings up another issue related to food.  Dining hall?”
“Dinin’ ‘all is righ’ through ‘ere.” Flint gestured to a doorway directly across from them. Dustin gestured for him to take the lead. With a nod Flint, lead him across the room. The doorway lead into a wide hall lit by torches along the walls. Three massive stone tables ran the length of the hall. Each table bore a stone bench on either side. The hall looked big enough to support a hundred dogs at least.
“I’s no much.” Flint shrugged. “But it does i’s job.”
“It’s still a nice dining hall, plenty big enough for a mine this size,” Dustin commented as he looked around.  “Hmm...though you could probably stand to smooth out any rough edges from the walls and floors.  Maybe put a few statues of important figures to the dogs up.  A bit of engraving in the walls of the same sort of thing.  Might make the other dogs appreciate it a bit more.”
“Da’s a good poin’.” Flint nodded and scratched his shin with a claw. “Don’ be surprised if’n ya see statues a you poppin’ up. Yer da first boss da dogs actually like in…… Come ta think of it yer da first boss that the dogs like in recent memory.”
“...Not what I wanted, but I suppose it’s too late to complain,” Dustin sighed, before perking back up again.  “Oh, on the topic of smoothing things out.  Make a note about the entrances to the mine.  You should probably secure them or hide them when you’re not using them, and I would appreciate it if the tunnels to get down here were just a bit bigger.  So that I didn’t have to crouch to get in.”
“Dat we can do.” Flint scribbled on his paper with the charcoal. “Ah’m also puttin’ down make prop’er entrance. Since most dogs just tunnel up, we don’t really ‘ave a prop’er entrance, well a prop’er entrance fer ponies.”
“And that’s another thing I’ll talk about later,” Dustin promised.  “I have a plan to help you get on better terms with the ponies, once we’re further on in the tour.  But for now, we should probably see about what’s next. Metals and military are what I’d look into next in a fortress, so how’s the mine doing?”
“Righ’ dis way.” Flint gestured a paw back towards the kitchen. He lead the fox back through the kitchen. Quartz looked up from one of the tables, her friend having left, leaving a cleaned Rock Lobster. The large bitch plodded over.
“‘Ow’s da tour goin’?” She asked, her head cocked curiously.
“Well I tink, gona show day boss da Hall a da Stone Speakers.” Flint looked at his list. “Den da Forge, and Barracks, den da Borehole I tink.”
Dustin seemed to be counting something on his fingers, before speaking up.  “There are...two, maybe three other issues after that that I can think of, I’ll bring them up afterwards,” he said aloud.  “For now, I’d like to see what you have to show me.”
“Alrigh’.” Flint nodded. He started off towards the Causeway and Dustin fell in behind him. Quartz, seemingly done here, followed the pair out. On entering the Causeway, the three took the final ramp down the the bottom of the shaft. Once there, Dustin found that there was only one way out. A soft blue glow came from a rather wide arching doorway.
On heading into the doorway, the sound of running water made Dustin’s ears perk up. The soft glow he’d seen was coming from blue mushrooms growing along the walls of a short passage. The passage in turn lead into a wide room, of which the walls, floor, and ceiling were smooth, almost unnaturally so. In the wall on the left side of the room there were a few doorways leading off somewhere. Directly across from the three was another arching doorway and the sound of hammers on anvils could be heard echoing into the hall. What caught Dustin’s attention however was the entire right half of the room. The floor sloped down into a pool of water. Small waves lapped up the slope. The source of the running water was a waterfall running down the entire right wall from a wide gap near the ceiling. A stream of water appeared to go through a duct that appeared to go directly to the Forge. The ceiling around the right side of the wall appeared more natural, with more blue glowing fungus lighting the entire room. In the center of the rather large pool was a massive stone covered in moss and various types of fungi.
Sitting at the edge of the pool was a small white dog wearing a mostly well kept robe.  Oddly enough as opposed to most of the dogs, this dog looked like a small bipedal Corgi. Dustin couldn’t see his eyes, but due to his posture he assumed that the dog was meditating.
“Ah, looks like Speaker Ignis is meditatin’. Ya’ll have ta meet ‘im la’er.” Flint murmured quietly and swiftly led the Dustin and Quartz across the room with barely a hint of noise. Once firmly into the next passage, the sound of hammers and the heat of the Forge was more evident. “Da Stone Speakers act as our ‘ealers among udder tings.” Flint explained.
“Ah, well that covers one of the issues I wanted to talk about,” Dustin commented.  “Healthcare.  Nobody can take care of everything, I know that much.  But what can they heal?”
“Dey can mend broken or crushed bones, mend damaged bodies, ‘eal most sickness, preven’ disease. Dey can’t do everyting like ya said, but dey can fix mos’ issues.” Flint said with a glance at Dustin. “Maybe, if’n tings wit’ ponies improve, dey could get some porp’er medical trainin’”
“That was going to be my next suggestion,” Dustin nodded.  “A tunnel between here and Ponyville hospital, to get them that training much more easily.”
“Dat’d be good. Jus’ no’ direc’ly in ta da ‘ospital.” Flint chuckled.
“No, no indeed not,” Dustin agreed.  “So, metals.  How’s this forge look?”
Flint glanced ahead with a grin. “‘Ere’s yer answer.”
The heat of the Forge was stifling. A ruddy orange glow lit the the entirety of the low ceilinged room. Dustin couldn’t help but feel a tad uncomfortable by the thought of the ceiling being only a foot or so above his head. On seeing the Forge proper, he noted the various grooves in the walls. On a few of those grooves hung swords or hammers of various qualities, as well as some very basic looking metal armor. The swords seemed to vary from little more that a hunk of metal with an edge to more intricately designed curved blades. The hammers and armor weren’t much better. On fully entering the forge Dustin gaped at the massive cracking furnace that made up the entire left wall. He saw a dozen of so rods of metal sticking out of the bright coals. Only a half dozen feet away or so were a set of six evenly spaced anvils, on which three burly dogs worked. The small river that ran from the Hall of the Stone Speakers ran along the edge of the right side of the room. A multitude of workstations, tables covered in tools, sat nearby the small river. Only a couple smaller and lankier dogs worked at the tables. Even then it appeared the were just maintaining shoddier weapons. There was a sizable gap between the forge side and the crafting side of the Forge itself. The gap lead directly into another passageway.
“Okay,” Dustin noted aloud.  “Color me impressed by the quality of the room.  The quality of the gear, not so much.”  His mind whirled.  “What alloys do you know how to make, Flint?  Better quality metal would mean better quality gear, even in the hands of unskilled metalsmiths.  Armor made of copper would crumple, where armor made of steel wouldn’t so much as ding, if you understand my meaning.”
Flint raised a brow and pointed at the hammer that one of the dogs was working on. “Well recently, tanks to da previous boss, we’ve been mass producin’ iron armor and weapons. Yes we can make ‘em quicker but de’re ’eavier and break down fasta. ‘E was more about quani’ey over quali’ey. Tings like dis.” Flint walked over and pulled a wickedly sharp looking, single-edged silver sword, with a hilt wrapped in leather and what looked like rune-work on the flat of the blade, off the wall. “Now dis... “ He swung the blade with a grace and ease the Dustin honestly wasn’t expecting. “Dis ‘ere is made a Truesilva. Da las’ blade made before da vein ran dry abou’ three ‘undred years ago. We can make quali’ey work, it jus’ takes time.” Flint walked over, flicked his wrist to reverse grip the blade, and held it out to the fox. “Ah’d love if we could find more Truesilva, da problem is i’s found deep underground. Da deeper ya go da more prolems ya find. Las’ vein we ‘ad ta fight zoggin’ ra’kin fer it. Dat was a mess. Took us a couple decades, but we finally cleared em out.” Flint chuckled.
“Right, well the first thing to do is stop production of cheap iron gear,” Dustin said out loud.  “Maybe even order some of the shoddy stuff melted down so we can make quality steel stuffs out of it.  That’d help a bit.  Also, copper and tin should be saved to make bronze, it’s a good backup metal in case we run out of steel.  As well, I wouldn’t say no to finding some more quality ore and helping you fight for it.”  His eyes flashed as a single shard of stone floated up and was coated in that cone of energy again...before he passed it to Flint.  “Have tests done with this,” he ordered.  “I want to know just what I can and can’t do with this power.  If it’s powerful enough to be helpful to you all when we need to fight to secure some metal.”
“Well dat’s more ‘elpful den mos’ bosses. As ta da suggesions, Meltin down gear for better quali’ey is a good idea so long as we don’t run outta gear for everydoggy.” Flint nodded, taking a look at the energy covered stone. “Hmmmmm day ting is, ‘ow long does dis energy las’ for. I’d be ‘appy ta run some tests wit ya ta ‘elp figure dis ou’.” He tossed the rock back to Dustin. “Fer now, da Barracks?”
“Fair enough, we don’t want to leave the wardogs without armor or swords,” Dustin nodded.  “Write down that we need to do tests with my ability later, and let’s move on.”
“Righ’ den.” Flint looked at Quartz. “Ya doin’ okay? Ya’ve been quie’.. Er… more quie’ than normal.”
“Oh, Ah’m okay. Ah jus’ like being nearby.” Quartz said softly.
“Look’s like we won’ ‘ave ta find ya a bodyguard.” Flint chucked.
Dustin rolled his eyes as he followed the dog into the next passage. This passage was a shorter trip than the one from the Hall of the Stone Speakers to the forge. Surprisingly, the Barracks looked rather spartan. There was a central hallway that had six rooms on either side that were all filled with six bunk beds each. A central room at that back of the hallway seemed to be a meeting area and beyond that, lay an unused room that appeared to be for a captain or another higher up. On the opposite side of the dormitories, lay a small passage. The passage lead into what looked like a large colosseum.
“Dis is da Pit.” Flint said as they enter the outer ring of the colosseum. “Dis is where mos’ practice takes place, and if’n were lucky a bout or two betweens some dogs for fun. Dat hasn’ ‘appened in awhile dough.”
“Remind me to tell you about the exercises and equipment humans developed for strength training later,” Dustin said idly.  “It’d be good to have those that aren’t on duty working on their bodies, trying to stay in shape or become stronger.  Strong is good.  Stronger is better when it comes to defending us from other warchiefs and their flunkies.”
Flint shrugged and scribbled on the paper. “‘Uman strength tranin’. Go’ it.” The he looked up and looked around the room. “Righ’. So, dis passage ‘ere.” He pointed at a passageway on the left side of the vast room that appeared to slope up. “Dis passage leads up to da Causeway.” He pointed at a second passage on the opposite side of the room. “Dis one leads ta da Borehole.”
“And seeing as the squads have their own rooms, another thought springs to mind,” Dustin noted.  “Do we have target ranges for crossbow users to practice their accuracy?  Please tell me we have crossbows, dealing with something from range is far preferable to letting it get in your face.  I understand it’s part of the thrill of battle to smash something with your own weapons, but I much prefer to not potentially lose anyone.”
“Bad news boss.” Flint frowned. “Da las’ boss smashed all our crossbows. Said dey made us weak. Which is pure slag, but ya don’ say no ta a boss like dat. We do gots da schematics ta make more. Pit, if we had da right materials we could start producin’ Ironbelchers and Flameslingas. Maybe, jus’ maybe, we could form da Iron Dogs again.” Flint got a dreamy look in his eyes.
“Flint,” Dustin said, clapping the dog’s shoulder with one paw.  “We’re going to bring back ranged dogs, I promise you.  Find out who used to use a crossbow and get them produced again.  I want them training again as soon as possible.  Who knows?  If we find enough quality ore, we might be able to put their skills to use again.  We’re going to make this a mine that not only can stand on its own, but one that other dogs will want to be a part of.”
“Ah like da way ya think boss.” Flint grinned. He looked over Dustin’s shoulder. “An’ so does she.”
Dustin turned around the see a blushing Quartz trying desperately to prevent her tail from wagging. “U-uummmm don’ mind me. C-carry on.”
“Where ta next boss.” Flint asked, grabbing Dustin’s attention once again.
“I don’t think I need to see the Borehole, I got a very good look when I was getting rid of the old boss,” Dustin noted.  “The one thing I would suggest about it is to put up a wall around the skylight you seem to have, in order to prevent another Warchief from just walking in.  Also, do we have any promising ore veins?”
“Ah’ll have da dogs get on dat.” Flint nodded. “As ta veins, curren’ly we gots a massive iron vein, a decen’ly sized corundum vein, an’ a small vein a mit’ril. Migh’ wanna get da dogs on dat mit’ril dat we can use fer some nice gear.”
“Iron can be used for steel if we have coal or charcoal,” Dustin pointed out.  “Mithril...well I won’t say no to that.  I’ll leave it up to you how to use it, my knowledge of fantastical metals is a little lacking.  But corundum is...aluminum, right?  I think I heard something about that from Rarity…” Dustin hummed for a moment before smiling.  “Flint...did you know that they really like aluminum, the ponies?”
“Huh, ‘ad no idea. Any reason why?” Flint blinked.
“Apparently it’s rare to them,” Dustin smiled.  “Also, something about it being a good magical conductor.  My thinking?  We could just smelt the aluminum into bars and offer to trade it to them for all sorts of things we might be lacking.  Extra food, wood, exotic meats and spices...get what I’m saying?”
Flint scribbled on his paper. “So, we’d need to build a small outpos’ at where ever we make da prop’er entrance. An’ dog it with dogs dat can actually deal wit’ ponies. Ah’d do it, but Ah’m da Foredog.” Flinted tapped his chin with his piece of charcoal. “Know any ponies that are really good wit’ stone? It’d be nice ta get a differen’ perspective. Maybe ask around fer me?”
“I’ll ask,” Dustin promised.  “Though now you’ve brought up something new I want to talk about.  Flint...how educated are the dogs?  How many can read and write?”
“Ah can actually tell ya off da top a me ‘ead. Ah’d say seven’ey five percen’ can’t read or write. Namely da mining dogs. Which is most of us. Ah’d like ta get dat fixed. Dough, note dat all dogs know math and can read tings like blueprints or work orders. But readin’ in general is someting we’re sorely lackin’.” Flint frowned.
“Well, in addition to rocks, I’ll ask about someone that can come down and teach the dogs to read and write,” Dustin promised.  “A smart population is one that won’t fall for a tactic like, ‘Oh, your boss actually told me to run things for you for a few days!  Yeah, it’s fine.’  I’d rather you all catch onto that if a Warchief comes around and I’m not here.”
“Dat’s smart tinkin’ boss.” Flint nodded. “Dough Ah doubt a tactic as subtle as dat would sway da dogs. Still would be be’er ta have da dogs have some education. Find us a pony who’s okay wit’ dogs, we don’ wanna force some poor pony inta a job dere gon’ ‘ate.”
“Fair enough, and now my questions are winding down,” Dustin said.  “So...where do the dogs sleep?  You can’t work all the time.”
“Oh, we got dormitories like da Barracks higher up and attached ta da mine. Dere more a shared rooms fer a couple dogs, dough we do have room ta expand if needed. Pit, wit’ how few dogs we got now compared ta a few years ago, most dogs have been just each takin’ dere own rooms. ‘Elps wit’ morale.” Flint nodded.
“Well, one of the things I’m going to want to change will be that,” Dustin nodded, before outlining his housing plan.  “Every dog should be able to have their own rooms, with their own furniture in them.  A bed, a table and chair in case they don’t feel like eating in the dining hall.  A dresser for clothes, a chest to store their personal effects in.  Maybe later, once they’re educated and we start trading for books, they can even have bookcases.”
“Now dat sounds jus’ grea’.” Flint grinned at that, his tail wagging happily. “Anyting else on yer list boss?”
“Only one more thing,” the fox replied, thinking of how to word it.  “Now, this is a delicate topic so uh...I’ll try to ask.  What do dogs...do when another dog dies?”
“Ya mean da Halls a da Dead?” Flint blinked. “We actually passed it. Dat’s attached ta da Hall a da Stone Speakers. See, we burn our dead and place da ashes in a small ceremonial urn. Dat’s one ting da old boss didn’t mind ta keep. Imagine a set a hallways lined wit’ small urns. Goes pre’ey deep actually.”
“Well I won’t try to change your traditions,” Dustin replied.  “I just wanted to know what you did with them.  Sets my mind at ease.  Okay, now we just need to sketch out that outpost where we’ll trade with the ponies.”
“Flint!” The cry of a dog grabbed their attention. All three turned to look at a small black dog with grey eyes, wearing a dusty grey coat, racing towards them. “Flint! Huh- Ya- Ya won’t believe it! Da deeper tunnels-” The dog panted and slumped as he reached them. He saw Dustin and tried to stand up straight. “Boss! Sorry, didn’t see ya dere!”
“I’m all for respect, but don’t stand on ceremony when you have important news to deliver,” Dustin commented.  “What about the deeper tunnels?”
“We found a vein!” The dog yipped excitedly.
“Slow down Crag.” Flint smiled at the excited dog. “We find veins all da time.”
“But dis is special. We found a Adaman’ine deposit!” Crag bounced on his paws.
Quartz gasped.
Flint blinked. “Ya wot?”
“We found an Adaman’ine deposit!” Crag repeated.
Dustin...had a different reaction.  He turned to Flint.  “Is it sky blue in color, able to hold an edge keener than any other metal, and makes armor that needs only be wafer-thick to deflect even dragon fire?  You have to spin it into threads to smelt it into wafers to work it?”
“Looks like da fox knows ‘is stuff.” Flint grinned wickedly before returning to look at Crag. “‘Ow deep and how much?”
“We just broke it open at da lowest spot a da mines. Dey were workin’ ta make sure everyting stays stable when dey sent me runnin’” Crag explained. “As ta how much….. Flint, da entire wall looked blue.”
“Shit….” Flint somehow managed to pale even in his already pale coat.
“Flint, we have to get there before someone does something incredibly stupid,” Dustin said.  “Like trying to mine it.”
“We’ve dealt wit’ it before but i’s been a couple ‘undred years. Da new dogs might not know exactly what ta do.” Flint nodded. “Ta da elevatas?”
“As fast as you can,” the fox agreed.  “I know a way to keep us safe and still get some metal, but we’ll need to be fast enough that they haven’t mined it already.”
Flint nodded, then yelped as he, Dustin, and Crag were picked up by Quartz. “Ah’ll get us there.” They were off in a flash. The large bitch was faster than Dustin originally thought. In what felt like moments they were in the Borehole. Moments more and they were flying down a large winding tunnel lit by torches. They came to a wide, less well lit hole with numerous pulleys and gears on the ceiling. A large square platform had been built into the edge of the hole and was attached to the series of pulleys. Quartz skidded to a halt and set everybody down. Crag immediately went over to a large lever and pulled. With a hum and a grinding of cogs the platform began to lower.
“Quartz.” Flint heaved deep breaths. “Warn me when ya donna do dat. Ah’m not a young dog.”
“Flint, if we’re going to save the mine, we need to make sure this stuff doesn’t get mined before the orders go out,” Dustin said as he watched the elevator descend.  “I just wish I could tell them not to do it.  And now I wish we’d brought one of those Stone Speakers with us, in case they have.”
“We’re not stupid boss.” Crag said from his spot by the lever, his ears were pinned back and he had a sad look on his face.
“I certainly hope not,” Dustin agreed.  “Young and foolish, maybe.  But hopefully not foolish enough to dig the Adamantite out.”
The elevator swiftly hit the bottom of the hole and strangely, the group heard-
“Singing?” Dustin asked.
On leaving the elevator, the group followed the sounds of joy. Their path lit by torches, they came across the source of the jubilation. A good twenty or so dogs were singing and dancing. The firelight glinting off an untouched wall of blue that had to be ten foot high at least. A pair of larger dogs smiled, but were keeping the other dogs away from the wall.
“Told ya boss. We’re no’ stupid.” Crag grinned.
“We’ve been minin’ for as long as we can remember. We know our meh’als.” Flint said with a nod.
“Right,” Dustin stepped forward as he looked at the wall himself.  He came close enough to touch it a bit, garnering the attention of the mining dogs as their new boss had come all this way to see what they’d found.
“We’re not touchin’ dat boss.” One of the dogs spoke up. “Not sure we gots da gear ta mine it yet.”
“And well you shouldn’t, but there is something you can do,” Dustin said as he turned around.  “You can excavate the vein.  Dig all the way around it.  Because if I’m right, there will be a central, hollow pillar to it.  Something that you must never, ever breach, no matter how much the metal tempts you.  There should also be several offshoots, branches of the metal into the rock.  Those should be safe to mine, when we have the gear to.”  He turned to Flint.  “See about making some quality pickaxes.  Steel, mithril if you can swing it.  This stuff will elevate our fortress far faster than trading aluminum with the ponies.”
“We can get on dat.” Flint nodded then looked at the surrounding dogs. “Ya ‘eard ‘im boys! Get to it!”
There was an excited scramble as the dogs went about getting back to work.
“We should leave them to it.” Flint gestured behind him and Dustin, Flint, Quartz and oddly enough Crag all turned to head back up to the mine proper.
“Now that that’s out a tha way,” Flint sighed as they reached the elevator. “Anything else ya got fer us?”
“Here, I’ll sketch it on your scroll,” Dustin said as he gently took the scroll and graphite from Flint.  By the time they were at the top of the borehole, he handed it back to the old dog.
It wa a design for a trading outpost.  A central platform made of polished stone, with slabs of stone around it.  The fox pointed out the details.  “Here,” he said, pointing to the platform, “Is where you’ll lead ponies when they come to trade with you.  It’s also where you’ll have dogs haul things like finely made stonecraft and aluminum, so that you can make an offer with the things they can see.  And around the platform,” his finger trailed to the slabs, “You can have the skilled stone carvers have their own shops, so that they can trade with the ponies directly.  Plus it displays that the dogs of the mine are skilled enough to make these things, and intelligent enough to want what the ponies have to offer in exchange for their craft.”
“Ah see.” Flint looked over the page. He walked off the platform of the elevator the moment it reached the top. “Yeah, this should work. Just where ta place it. If’n we make da entrance at dat quarry dat da white pone likes ta gather gems at….” He mused as they came back into the Borehole.
“‘Ey Flint, boss!” A large dog grabbed their attention. He was brown, with almost gold eyes, he wore a blue vest and had a sack over one shoulder. He was coming down the ramp towards them at a decent clip. He finally spoke up when he got within a couple feet. “Ah know this isn’ da best time, an’ Ah know we don’t carry pony’s in sacks cause dat’s jus’ rude, but dey were tryin’ ta break in ta da mine and Ah ‘ad a ‘ard time grabbin’ ‘em.”
The sack over his shoulder shook.
“Think we’re finally inthide?” Came a familiar voice.
“Well, the dog stopped finally.” Came another.
“I think we’re good.” Came a third. “Think he brought us to Dustin?”
“...Sweetie Belle, what are you doing in the mine?” Dustin asked in a stern tone of voice.
“Hi Dustin!” Came the cry from the sack. “We’re here to fix your relationship with Rarity!”
“...Flint, I assume I have a room,” Dustin commented.  “Let’s take this there.”
“Oh, a course ya do.” Flint nodded. “I’s no’ too far away actually.”
Flint lead the small group up the Borehole, through the Pit, the Barracks, the Forge, and the Hall of the Stone Speakers, and into the Causeway. Up the Causeway they went, until they reached to top level. There was a passage Dustin had missed seeing on the way down. Probably because it wasn’t too far away from the entrance they’d used earlier that day.
A somewhat nicely carved stone door sat nestled into a small passage. On opening the door, a spacious room fit for a lord came into view. The floors were smooth, the ceiling was high, the walls were carved and etched with swirls and runes. Covered torches crackling in each corner of the room. A large wooden desk sat off to the right side. A fireplace with two large plush chairs  with a small table between them sat in front of it. There was a large unused stone bookcase along the far wall. A bright red carpet lead into another room, what Dustin assumed to be a bedroom.
As the group entered the room, Quartz sniffed the air. Her brow furrowed and she stalked off into the other room. There were a few surprised yips. “OUT!” Snapped Quartz. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly in Flint’s case, six bitches came out of the room in tears, running as if the devil himself were after them. Quartz came out looking a little ticked, but swiftly blushed as she saw all the eyes on her.
“Well it’s nice to know someone is looking out for me,” Dustin quipped before looking at the dog with the sack.  “Put them down,” he ordered.  “We’ll talk about it like grown-ups.”  He walked over to the desk and sat behind it, getting a feel for the chair.
The dog sat the bag down, let it go, and quickly left the room. The Cutie Mark Crusaders tumbled out with a collective yelp.
“Okay,” Dustin said, steepling his paws.  “Why are you here?  I know the reason you gave me, but it can’t be the real reason.”
All three looked at the floor. “We wanted to thee the mine.” Scootaloo said quietly.
“Sweetie said the dogs were really nice.” Apple Bloom explained.
“I don’t like seeing you and Rarity fight.” Sweetie murmured.
Dustin sighed.  “Look, Rarity and I are far too alike to get along for long,” Dustin explained.  “Plus, she keeps wanting me to try on clothes.  I don’t want anything to do with fashion for a good, long while.”
“She’s not forcing you to, yeah she can be pushy but tell her no firmly enough and she’ll stop.” Sweetie looked up, her ears pinning back as she did.
“I tried that already, she yelled at me,” the fox pointed out.
“Ummmm…. Didn’t you start yelling first?” Apple Bloom asked.
“...Point,” the fox conceded.  “Still, I’ve tried telling her I don’t want to do fashion.  She doesn’t seem to get the message.”
“Well, if you tried on thomething every once and awhile you might actually get her to thtop athking.” Scootaloo said with a raised brow. “You keep thhutting her down and it’th going to make the problem worthe.”
“Oh sure, ask the fox who was all but enslaved to be a fashion model to try some things on, nothing can go wrong with that plan,” Dustin deadpanned.  The sarcasm was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
“But aren’t there times y’all feel naked?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Ha!” Flint barked.
“For a bit when I was getting used to the body, yes,” Dustin agreed.  “But fur helps.” He then turned wistful. “Though I wouldn’t say no to a good pair of pants…”
“Then how about you propose a trade?” Sweetie asked. “You model something for her if and only if you get something out of it. And she has a limit on how many things she can make you wear at any given time per any given week.”
“...Why do the best plans come from the mouths of children?” Dustin asked aloud.  “Fine.  But I’m not going to enjoy it.  And I still have a bloody mine to run as well!”
“Well duh!” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “You kinda got a job now. Thhe can’t make you do anything.”
“Also, you could have some of the bitches come up and model for her!” Sweetie grinned. “I’m sure she’d like them if she got to know them outside of them coming after you day and night.”
“On dat note.” Flint said and walked out of the room. “OI BOSS SAYS DAT DA BITCHES DON’ ‘AVE TA LIMI’ DEMSELVES TA ONLY DA BOSS NO MORE!”
Flint calmly came back into the room, only to find that everyone was staring at him. “Wot? She reminded me?”
“I-is th-that true?” Quartz asked with a very noticeable blush.
“Okay, while I didn’t give that order, I can agree with it,” Dustin commented.  “Also, was that all it took?  Just... someone explaining the situation to me and me saying ‘I don’t want this’?”
“Pre’ey much yeah.” Flint nodded. “Though da bitches were also gettin’ really snippy because de’re in season and yer not satisfyin’ dem.”
“Ewwwww.” Scootaloo and Apple Bloom made disgusted faces.
Sweetie Belle shrugged. “It’s just biology.”
“...Seriously, if a problem is that easy to solve, Flint...tell me what to do,” Dustin said.  “It’d make me look less stupid, keep morale up.  Give them confidence in their boss.  You know, the important things.”
“Well, we covered all da other important tings durin’ da tour. Ah jus’ figured Ah’d get dat one out a da way for ya.” Flint shrugged.
“And we couldn’t get it done before half a dozen bitches camped out in my bedroom?” Dustin asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Ah coulda made da announcemen’ right after ya said da ting bout da not startin’ a eugenics program.” Flint chuckled. “Den it woulda jus’ made everyting messy.”
“Messy?” the Renamon asked.
“As in literally. No’ very polite ta say in fron’ a pups.” Flint glanced at the fillies.
“...Ah,” Dustin nodded.  “Okay then.  Well, with that sorted, I guess I’m...staying in here until it calms down.”
“E-excuse me…” Quartz said as she picked up Crag and walked out of the room.
“See ya boss.” Crag said with a giddy grin.
“Ya wan’ me ta escort da fillies out?” Flint asked.
“Please,” Dustin said as he got up to go to his bedroom.
“Alrigh’." Flint nodded then looked down at the fillies." Okay pups, this place isn’ gonna be pup safe for a few days. So le’s get you ou’a ‘ere.” Flint gestured out the door.
“Okay…” The fillies said dourly.
“...You still want me to come back and talk to Rarity, don’t you?” the fox asked the fillies.
All three fillies rushed over, sat on their haunches, and gave him puppy dogs eyes. “Please!”
“Gah!  Too much cute!” the fox gasped, clutching his heart.  “Systems...failing…”  His head fell to the desk, where his tongue lolled out of his maw.
“Workth every time!” Scootaloo cheered.
“So, Ah suppose that ya’ll be da one takin’ da fillies den?” Flint asked with a raised brow.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin muttered as he pushed himself up from behind the chair.  “I suppose we can try to make up.  I’m not promising anything.”  He pointed a finger at Sweetie.  “If we end up fighting again, I’m coming right back here, ‘mess’ be damned.”
“That’d be perfectly fine.” Sweetie agreed. “And perfectly understandable. Now, all you need to do is sit down and talk it out like adults.”
Flint shook his head. “From da mouths of pups.”
Dustin sighed.  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he muttered.  “I’ve never been very good at talking things out.”
“Jus’ try ta stay calm. Dat always works fer me.” Flint walked over and patted Dustin on the shoulder with a paw.
“Calm.  I can do calm,” the fox nodded.  “Okay.  Let’s do this.”