//------------------------------// // 2 - Settling in for the Winter // Story: The Adventures of Flesh and Bone // by Meep the Changeling //------------------------------// Tractor Pull - 6th of Snowfall, 08 EoH Retort Family Home, West Bloomfield - Equestria Trac took a seat in the leather-backed armchair next to the fireplace. The warm cup of coffee rested nicely in his hoof, as its bouquet of dark roast, chocolate, and salt scents graced his nose. Normally this was heaven, the perfect end to an exhausting day which melted away all of the stress and anger he had built up over the course of the day. Not this time. Re’s pissed… How did I screw this up? Trac thought to himself as he took a sip of coffee. You can’t leave somepony out in the elements on a night like tonight. I don’t care if she’s the best pyromancer in the universe, windchill can kill you even if you have a fire. He sat back in his chair and did his best to listen to the distant voices of Re and Ameili as Re would be laying out the house rules for her. Trac couldn’t hear them clearly enough to make out more than the occasional word, the faint hum of the galvanic current, thick walls, and the occasional groan from the house’s boiler did an excellent job of keeping sound isolated to a given room. Fortunately, Trac didn’t care to know what they were saying. He remembered Re’s lengthy house rules speech well enough. He had heard it seven times after all. Trac was merely interested in their conversation as a timer. A means to gauge how long he had to work out how he screwed up. Is it because she has a weapon? It’s just a sword. Not even a modern sword either. I carry a twelve-millimeter pistol, so it can’t be weapons. Although he does trust me… But he knew I carried a combat knife everywhere before I moved in. He’s also a deputy and knows it’s perfectly legal to carry a weapon up here and also all the reasons why someone would want to have one. Re deals with ponies who have guns on them all day every day. Someone being armed but not hostile can’t possibly phase him. Yeah, it’s got to be something else. Trac took another sip of his coffee and pushed himself further into the chair, threatening to knock it over backward as he reclined. Re had installed lead weights in the legs of every chair in the house to combat Trac’s idle habit, and reduce repair bills for the antique furniture. Looking up, Trac stared at the Geissler tubes mounted to the living room chandelier. The glass bubbles glowed with a soft yellow light, distinctly different from sunlight but still pleasant in their own way. Especially since their light didn’t ‘burn’ to look at, much like the flames of a campfire. It’s because she’s sick isn’t it? Yeah that’s got to be it. I’ll explain that we’re safe again. Believing he had landed upon the problem, Trac nodded to himself and leaned back a little more as he began mentally formulating the prefect speech to calm his friend down. I know chemical gear when I see it. Re knows that. I’ll just tell him the truth. Her suit is going to keep anything in there in there. Unless she opens it up. Which seems unlikely because she’s a history dork like me. He’ll probably accuse me of bringing a girl home because I thought she was hot. Joke’s on him! I brought her in because I thought she was cold. Heh heh. Trac snickered at his own joke, sighed and sat up straight, taking another sip of coffee. She does have nice flanks though. You can’t see much of her under all that cloth but her flanks still bulge out and fill her suit nicely. I’d kill for a body like that. Everypony likes nice round flanks. I’d quintuple my dating pool. Trac blinked, his ears standing up in alarm, a revelation filling his mind. Sisters above! Re thinks I'm going to buck her because she’s got a great ass! Okay, that’s simple to straighten out. No way am I sticking my dick in someone who has super leprosy. Wait, she said she had to get fluid in me to pass the infection… Would a condom prevent infection? Trac humed and leaned his hoof against his chin, pondering his sudden, and stupid, question. No. Definitely not. At least, not if you used just one… Huh, how would she have sex if she found someone who didn’t mind her looks? Trac truthfully had no desire to bed his guest, but the simple yet crass question plagued his mind in the way only the stupidest of questions can immediately fill a mind which would very much love a distraction from much more serious troubles. His mind was aglow as he thought back through every science textbook he had read, connected many different strings of logic, and rejected dozens of hypotheses only to arrive at one conclusion. Unfortunately, he got there at the same time as Retort walked through the living room door. “That’s it!” Trac announced as he jumped up from his seat with an excited grin on his face. “If she’s into stallions they could simply dip their lower body in latex and let it harden to form a full barrier over all permeable membranes and keep all backsplash away from their person! It’s skin tight so friction would transfer through and get the job done for both of them. “And if she prefers mares they could get away with leg-length rubber booties, the stuff normally used for household cleaning would— “ An irritated sigh cut Trac’s eureka moment off like a guillotine. “Did you just spend ten minutes trying to work out how to get with a zombie-girl?” Re asked as he gagged on the air. Trac’s light tan face turned a beet red. “I, uh, no! I— I realized you were upset because you thought I brought her here to have um, a fun time and that would mean she could infect you because her suit would be off. That’s completely not true! “But it made me wonder how you could do it with her safely if you could be okay with well, you know, looking at her out of her suit. And um—” Re raised his left hoof and closed his eyes. “Say no more. I really don’t want to think about that. At all. Ever again.” Trac reached up and rubbed the back of his head. “S— Sorry…” “Besides, I know you don’t like mares,” Retort added, rolling his eyes. Trac froze. His tail stood on end. “No! I like mares.” “We’ve lived together for years, Trac. We also went to the same school. Do you really think you kept your relationship with Birch secret from the whole school? Everypony knew, dude! Well, not the teachers. We never told the teachers. They would have told your parents and… Yeah, everyone also knew telling adults wouldn’t be a good idea.” Trac wanted to deny Re’s words, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not after it happened. Retort pointed a hoof at Trac’s aging hoodie. “You also have been wearing his hoodie for six years now. Every day. Only taking it off to wash it or fix it. You were in love, I don’t need to be a detective to know that about my best friend. If Mint hadn’t caught you two under the bleachers having fun, I’d still know you two were a thing because of that hoodie. “I also thought you knew I knew because you’re not an idiot and should have known that I knew where you got your hoodie from, and that it’s not reasonable to wear a dead friend’s shirt for years and years. So why, for the love of Celestia’s blessed sun, would you think I thought you would bring home a mare for carnal reasons? ESPECIALLY one with what amounts to super leprosy?” Re stood staring at Trac accusatorily for several long seconds. Trac’s stone-faced expression remained strong for the first heartbeat, and the second, and the third, but then it shattered, revealing the devastated pony behind the mask. “Never mention Birch again…” Trac whispered as he stared at the floor, shoulders slumping. Re winced. “Sorry. I didn’t know that was so raw still.” “And don’t tell anypony. Please. Dad might actually kill me,” Trac added. “Okay,” Re agreed. “I’ll keep the lock on your closet for you.” “I’m not gay,” Trac exclaimed his eye narrowing in irritation. “I like mares too. Just a lot less than stallions… Or maybe I just liked the one. I don’t know.” I do know… But I’d like to be closer to normal. I don’t know how comfortable Retort is around guys like me... Re raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I have NEVER seen you so much as look at a picture of a mare. Who did you like?” “Spring Snow,” Trac replied, a small smile parting his lips as he remembered the tiny and energetic mare who had always played blackjack with Birch, Retort, and him at lunch. Retort’s expression went completely blank as he stared at his old friend for another eternity. “Spring?” He asked, his mouth widening into a knowing smile. “You had a crush on Spring?” “Yeah. She was cute, and we liked a lot of the same things. Maybe I just like masculine traits in people? I’ve never met another tomcolt.” Trac said with a nod. “See? I like mares t—” “Spring’s a guy,” Re said, biting his lip to prevent himself from laughing. “No she’s not,” Trac said tilting his head. “She’s a guy, NOW,” Retort clarified. “The after school job ‘she’ worked? Every penny was saved up for a wizard’s services. Got a full sex change. You had a crush on the transstallion!” “W-well she was a mare when I liked her. Uh, him?” Trac stammered, falling back into the chair he had been sitting in. “Yeah! The most stallionish mare ever. In both looks and behavior. A lot of people thought she was a kinda femmy dude… You should have spent more time socializing in school and less time reading every book you saw. You’d have known because Spring wasn’t closeted. Tons of people knew he was getting a change done as soon as he could. It’s just that this hick town is full of bigoted farmers who refuse to accept anything ‘unnatural’, so everyone called him a her,” Retort spat bitterly as he glared into the fire. Trac’s ears fell flat against his head. “Hey, some of them are assholes but there's a lot of good people too!” Retort nodded. “Yeah… But it’s hard to remember when you spend all day slapping cuffs on people for being irresponsible, cruel, evil, and/or vindictive.” Trac offered Retort a slightly sympathetic nod. Even as far into the spot as Re had pushed him, Trac still couldn’t help but sympathize with his working conditions. “Y— Yeah… But I still liked a mare at one point!” Trac protested firmly. Re shrugged. “Depends on how you count it. Personally, I don’t think people are their bodies. If you do, fine, but the fact remains the only mare you ever liked was indistinguishable from a guy until you looked under their tail.” “No, she wasn't! She looked like a—” Trac stopped talking as Retort held up his hoof. The pegasi opened his wings and flew up to the top shelf of the easternmost bookcase and retrieved his copy of their high school yearbook. In but a moment he had landed and opened the page to Spring Snow’s picture. “I think you’ve forgotten what he looked like, Trac.” Trac frowned and looked at the photo. Oh, no… He’s right. She did look like a kinda girly stallion… I mean he did. Retort nodded knowingly, Trac’s face saying everything he needed to know. “Told you, bro,” he said with a wink, slipping back into the way he had spoken during his high school days to try and make the short sentence into a joke which would lighten the mood. He failed. “S— He still had mare parts!” Trac protested feebly. “Ever want to use them?” Retort retorted. “No. I just thought she was cute.” “And Spring looked like a guy.” “Right.” “If so fact-o,” Re said, butchering the Old Equish to further rib his friend. “You liked Spring because your subconscious mind went ‘Hey, that’s a guy. Guys are cute.’ but you called him a girl because everyone else was, thus consciously seeing Spring as a mare.” Trac had no response to Retort's witty summary. Retort had won this argument hooves down. “W— Um, how did you know what she, I mean he did after high school? Everyone split up. Like, we’re the only two who stuck together,” Trac said, hoping to change the topic away from himself. “Because Spring and I are friends? He may not feel okay living in more conservative places post-change, but we still keep in touch. Besides, I figured since he’s a guy now and you two got along so well— Let’s just say I know you plan on leaving this place behind one day and I was going to see about setting you guys up on a date.” Trac recoiled into the chair, eyes widening as he looked at his friend, mortified beyond words. “Y— I— Don’t play matchmaker with me!” Trac demanded. The pegasi fluffed his wings and nodded, a triumphant smile on his face. “There. Now we’re even.” The wheels in Trac’s head clicked into place. Trac jumped out of the chair, glaring at Retort. “You brought up my orientation to get back at me for bringing a mare home so she wouldn't freeze to death?!” He growled through clenched teeth. “That is NOT okay!” Retort shook his head calmly. “I didn’t intend to have any of this conversation. It happened because you had a weird sex thought and then told me you liked girls, which confused the hay out of me. I’m happy now because you’re feeling about how I was when you brought an armed stranger in chemical gear into my home.” “Oh…” Trac said, the anger in his eyes leaking away. “And sorry. I won't try and hook you up with anyone. I didn’t think it would bother you. Why does it bother you?” Retort asked with a genuinely apologetic frown. “You may know what um, plumbing I like… But you don’t know the kinds of people I like. And it’s not as simple as straight couples. You can’t just mash any two people together.” “Sure, but that’s because I can’t lift two ponies. Heh,” Retort giggled. “You probably could. If they were pegasi.” Trac paused, his brain once more happy to find a nicely distracting question. Unfortunately, it was one he could easily answer. “Actually, I could do it with any two ponies who weren't overweight. But that’s not my point. Some stallions like stallions but only want to be “on top” if you get what I am saying. You need t—” “There’s mare’s like that too,” Retort interrupted. “It’s exactly the same. Except for the parts match. But I get what you mean. I don’t know what kind of person you specifically like. That’s fine. I won't help you find a coltfriend unless you tell me. I was only doing it with Spring because I knew you two got along already. That’s all.” “Good,” Trac said with a relieved sigh. “Now let’s never talk about this again.” Retort pursed his lips and stroked his chin. “Mmm, no. One more thing. Do you like me?” Trac blinked in surprise and turned to look Retort in his eyes. “No.” “Then, you don’t check me out?” “Nope.” “Why not?” Trac paused to think for a moment. “Well, we’re friends. That’s it. I just don’t think of you like... Wait, are you—” Retort shook his head and sat in the chair opposite the fireplace from Trac. “Nope. I thought you’d know if I looked good. There’s a mare I like at a tea house downtown. She doesn't check me out either. I was hoping I could get her attention without resorting to flirting. Apple Fritter says relationships are best when the mare initiates them. I was hoping you could tell me what I’ve got to work with.” “Oh. Well… You’ve got great teeth. Try smiling?” Trac suggested with a shrug. “I’m not ugly, am I?” Retort asked with a worried frown. Trac snorted. “No. You look good,” he said honestly. “But you don’t check me out?” “Nope.” “Then how do you know I look good?” “I can see you,” Trac deadpanned. “You look good, Re. But you don’t turn me on, so I don't check you out. You know what the difference is. Also, trust me, she’s not going to say a thing till she knows you're interested in her. “You don't have to flirt or use a pickup line. Show up every day and show her you care about her by being extra nice and caring about her day to day stuff. If she mentions something, like going to see her sister soon, remember it and ask how it went later. That’s what mares like in guys.” “It can’t be that simple,” Retort said with a shake of his head. “It totally is. That’s what you were doing in high school to have a new mare every other week, isn’t it?” “Nah. That’s just what comes with being a high school sports star. To be honest, those relationships ended because they wanted the popularity I could give them and figured I’d let them buy it with sex. I wanted a real relationship. Like what you had. I was a bit jealous, actually.” Retort admitted with an embarrassed smile. This is getting really awkward… Trac lamented. Time to get things back on track. “Well… You show her you care about her and she’ll ask you out. That’s um… What he did with me,” Trac admitted before clearing his throat and looking out the living room window at the raging storm outside. “Look, I’m sorry I brought Ameili home without any kind of warning. But it was an emergency. She would have frozen to death.” Retort facehooved. “That’s right, I was going to yell at you about bringing her home,” he groaned. “Well… Wind’s kinda out of my sails now so I’m just going to ask one thing, okay?” “Okay.” “Why did you bring an armed stranger home instead of getting them a hotel room?” The question hung in the air for half a heartbeat. Is he serious? That’s his reason? “Because she didn’t seem dangerous and home was way closer. Also it was forty below,” Trac answered with a raised eyebrow. Like I would walk through the forest twice in one night without a good reason too... Retort nodded. “Sure. But lots of people don’t seem dangerous,” his eyes looked distant for a moment as the young pegasi recalled a particular workday. “They never look dangerous. An old stallion on a park bench, sleeping, clearly homeless. Unicorn, but not wealthy so obviously not a wizard. Clearly very hungry, starving probably. Thin, frail. “Park’s not public. Privately owned. That means you can trespass. Lots of ponies don’t know the law. Tartarus, most ponies don't know any law. The second a property owner asks you to leave and you don’t immediately leave, you’re trespassing. Old stallion refused to leave. Insisted he wasn't committing a crime. Insisted he knew the law and his rights. They always think they do, but they don’t. “He refuses to leave five times. He’s already a criminal and we have the full authority of the law to arrest him, but we gave him five chances to just go home, or down the road, or anywhere else. Five shots to avoid consequences. Now we have to arrest him. My partner took out his cuffs. “But this stallion was really old. I thought I would give him one more final shot just in case dementia was scrambling his brain or something else like that. I offer to take him to a restaurant, get him a meal, and rent him a room for the night. He refuses. “At this point, we have to haul the criminal in. The situation can’t be resolved peacefully, he’s made that crystal clear. My partner goes to put the cuffs on him. Stallion flips out the second one cuff touches him. Horn glows with the most disgusting vomit green light you’ve ever seen, he spits a few words at us with the most hateful venom in them, flicks his wrist, and BAM! The two of us are choking on a cloud of toxic gas. “I was dying. I knew I was dying. You can feel it… When your organs start to shut down. All I could do was fall and gasp like a fish ripped from the water. He wasn’t finished with us. He cast another spell. Vaporized my partner with a bolt of lightning. He just went pop. No bits big enough to see went flying. Nothing like that. Just… Pop. “I didn’t even know unicorns could summon lightning. I thought that was exclusive to us pegs. Then everything went black. “I woke up in a hospital. I got lucky. A wizard from Canterlot was touring the local hospital when I was brought in. The old unicorn had turned me into a rat. The only reason I got medical help is a witness saw the whole thing. Told the medics I was a transfigured sheriff. If that wizard hadn’t been touring I would be dead today, because rats don’t live as long as ponies do when their lungs are half melted.” Retort trailed off and stared into the living room's fireplace for a few minutes, idly chewing on his lip and fidgeting with his hooves. Retort rarely went into detail about an incident he had been involved in which wasn’t funny. Trac didn’t dare say a word. He knew Retort wasn’t finished speaking, he simply needed a moment to collect himself before continuing. “You can’t trust strangers at their word like you did with her, Trac. You just can’t. You should give them the benefit of the doubt but you shouldn’t ever let your guard down till they are not a stranger anymore. Because no matter how harmless they look, you can never really know what they are capable of.” “That was the day you didn’t come home two years ago, wasn’t it?” Trac asked frowning. “If you’re thinking of springtime, yeah,” Retort said with a nod. “You’ve made a pretty good point, Re.” “Glad you think so. It’s an important lesson you don’t get taught in school. They preach love, and caring, and friendship to you… But they never tell you there are people who reject those values and don’t care if they hurt others emotionally or physically. It’s like the powers that be think if we ignore the evil in the darkness it will just stay over there.” Trac cleared his throat and sat up straight through. “There’s a problem with your plan though.” Re raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” “I can’t afford to rent a motel room for someone for a night.” Trac reminded, hanging his head. “I didn’t have that option. I’m not like you. I don’t have a full-time job. Heck, I don’t even have a part-time job. I’m in the National Guard, not the Guard. I work one weekend a month and two in the summers. It pays exactly as much as you think.” Retort frowned. “Dude, you afford the hundred bits a month you pay for rent and school. You could scrounge up fifteen bits for a motel.” Trac shook his head firmly. “Nope. The Guard pays for my college. All of it. You get all of my monthly paychecks, every last bit. I save the two weeks summer training’s pay for food for the year.” Retort’s eyes widened as his lips twisted. “You make that little?” “Yeah.” “Why the buck do you even do that?! You could pay for college on just about any real job!” “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have time for school! We don’t have a college in this town. I have to commute. That’s three hours traveling every single day. If I worked a real job I would have to get like four hours of sleep at best to pull off classes and work on the same day.” Retort shook his head. “That’s messed up… Trac, keep your bits. I knew you were poor, but not THAT poor.” Trac opened his mouth to protest, but Retort stopped him with a raised hoof. “It’s only a hundred. That’s not much to me. As for earning your keep, you’ll still be doing your share of the chores here.” Trac squirmed. “It doesn't feel right not paying rent…” “Yeah well, you’re basically my little brother at this point, Trac,” Retort said with a smile. “Family shouldn’t have to pay.” Brother… Trac’s jaw dropped. “You— Really?” “Yeah. You let me stay on the baseball team by doing my history work for me. You helped me get my current job, which pays almost enough to make up for the bi-weekly descent into Tartarus it drags you on. You’ve bailed me out of trouble more times than I can count. You keep the house spotless. You cook me breakfast…” Retort trailed off a mischievous look forming in his eyes as he looked Trac in the eyes. “Actually, are you sure you don’t like me? Because now that I say it out loud it’s kinda like you're my wife or something,” Retort asked with a playful wink. Trac rolled his eyes. “I get the point… And I do those things because we're friends.” “If that’s how you treat a friend there’s going to be some really lucky dude one day,” Retort said with a smirk. “Well, thanks,” Trac said with a genuine smile. A smile which quickly faded. “Uh… Wait, so can Ameili stay or what?” “She can stay,” Retort said with a sincere nod. “Don’t tell the department but I always take a spare Truthseeker home with me. I’m as paranoid as you are. Only with seemingly harmless strangers instead of griffons.” “You used it on her?” Trac asked, his stomach churning at the thought of mental magic. “Yeah. Got consent first. She didn’t cast any counterspells, even took her pack off so enchanted gear wouldn’t give false positives. She was very compliant, no complaints, understood the reasons. Wish more people were like that, my job would be much less dangerous… Anyways, asked her two questions. She won't take off her suit around us. She has no hostile intentions. Told her she can stay as long as she needs too.” Trac raised an eyebrow. “You extended my invite? After getting that upset over it?” Retort laughed. “Trac, I’m not upset you did a good thing. I was terrified out of my mind that she was going to attack us when we went to sleep and steal our stuff. Now I can trust her not to, so of course I let the mare dying of a terrifying disease I can’t catch have a place to stay. “She can stay here till she dies if she wants too… I asked her about her face, how bad it was if she felt the need to use a mask. She asked if I would like to see her nasal bone. That galvanic voice of hers is probably because her vocal chords are gone. She’s probably got a month left. Poor thing shouldn’t be traveling around.” Trac shook his head slowly. “Buck… I didn’t think about that. You’re right she doesn't have much time left.” “Yeah. But she’s harmless, and I see enough bad things at work to know you have to make good things happen for your own sanity. So she gets the guest bedroom,” Retort said before suddenly shifting position in his chair, turning to look off to Trac’s right side. “Oh! Hey, stranger. Just filling Trac in on you staying here as long as you like.” Trac turned his head, wincing at the sight of Ameili standing in the doorway. More specifically, at her masked face, and the small dimples in her cloth helmet where he hoped her ears were. “Hey! Uh… How much did you hear?” Trac asked. I hope she wasn't listening in while we were talking about— “Long enough to know you do not wish to discuss your preferences for lovers,” Ameili said politely, flashing Trac a fire-smile. “Fear not, my mandible is sealed. My family didn’t like my love either.” Trac tilted his head at the mare odd turn of phrase. “That’s right, you’re foreign. The expression is “my lips are sealed.”.” He corrected. Ameili laughed and nodded. “I know. But I have not had lips to seal in a very long time.” Trac winced and began scrambling for any kind of proper apology. Fortunately, Retort came to his rescue. “Your parents are also firm traditionalists? Trac’s almost didn’t let him go to school once he turned five. That’s the youngest the law lets children work on family farms.” Retort asked. Ameili trotted into the living room and took a seat on the floor in front of the fire. “I’ve got a Romane name. Which should tell you everything you need to know about my family’s ways,” she said, her fire-smile returning in an especially cheesy form. “Point taken,” Retort chuckled. “It’s odd that I’m the only straight pony in the room when there are more than two people in it. This almost never happens.” Ameili shook her head. “Oh no, you misunderstand. My partner is genderless.” Both Trac and Retort looked at the mare and slowly raised an eyebrow. “Make no mistake, I’ve found many attractive over the years. Stallions, mares, geldings, all of which would have been perfectly alright with my family. But you see… My father believed you should marry for power. To tie yourself closer to another family and strengthen the community’s bonds. My mother believed you should marry for wealth, to improve your social standing through what she viewed as a strictly legal agreement. A contract and nothing more. “As for myself… While I have yet to find any nation which will permit my partner and I to marry, I marry for love. It just so happens I love someone with no property of any kind. My family is most upset over our private vows of partnership. Especially my father, because he despises puns on top of believing love is for concubines.” Retort and Trac looked at one another in confusion. “Um, puns?” Trac asked Ameili uncertainty. Ameili looked up at the two stallions and flashed them a grin. “Would you like me to introduce you? Fear not, there is no other person wandering around with me. She goes where I go.” “Color me intrigued,” Retort said, steepling his hooves. Ameili’s visor lit up as she reached out with an arcane grip and gently plucked a burning coal from the fireplace. “Fear not, he will not burn anything,” she said before giving the burning coal the tiniest spark of magic. “Darling? We will be staying here a while, I would like to introduce you.” The fire around the coal slowly grew and grew, taking on the shape of a pony somewhere between male and female, who was entirely featureless. Like the silhouette of a pony used on a bathroom sign which happened to be on fire. Retort looked at the flaming mass with wide terror filled eyes. His wings flared, and just as he was about to jump for the fire extinguisher next to the fireplace he noticed the floorboards and carpet were not smouldering, nor even blackened by the flaming creature’s touch. “What the hay is that!” Retort demanded, pointing to the thing standing on his rug, still quite afraid, but not as much as he nearly had been. “It’s an elemental!” Trac said slack-jawed as he stared into the creature’s flames. They bend and flex like strands of hair and fur! That’s so… Does it actively control those little flames or does its body just do that? “I have so many questions!” Track and Retort said in unison. Ameili giggled and nodded towards the Elemental she had summoned. “Say hello,” she instructed. The fire-pony turned towards Retort and offered the surprised pegasi a curtsy as if to say “I’m charmed to meet you.” then turned to offer a friendly wave to Trac, clearly remember seeing him before. “Tractor Pull, Heated Retort, this is my life partner. Her kind has no names of their own, but she likes the sound of Vulcan and will respond to it. Love, please do not eat any of their things. I’m certain they will feed you if you can not find me.” Ameili said as she stood up to nuzzle the fire elemental's shoulder. Wait a minute… Trac thought, recalling her wishing goodbye to her fire and immediately getting the “pun”. Oh. My. Celestia! That is the WORST pun I have ever heard. On two different levels! “You… You’re dating an elemental,” Retort said, his eyes partially glazed over. “Not only did you manage to FIND an elemental, one of the single most rare creatures in the world, and bind it too your service so you can summon it, but you’ve gotten it to love you. How powerful of a wizard are you?!” Trac bit his lip, doing his best to hold in an outburst he knew would be rude. Must. Not. Say. It… It’s so terrible Re will die! Just focus on the impossibly rare magical creature next to you! Trac looked closer at the elemental. While mostly orange and yellow, as fire is meant to be, its mane and tail flickered, changing color to a light blue with pale green tips. The “hair” was styled in a simple long and loose natural mane, an “as it grows, let it lay” approach to hair care. Or fire tending in this case. Its eyes swirled and flickered with a light other than what the fire provided. Something pale, blue, and kind. The eyes even held a shape within them, Trac could make out iriuses, purples, and whites, each made from different hues of flame. It looks like a burning pony statue at first, but there’s definitely a unique appearance here. In fact the longer I look the more of it I can see… Trac realized as the elemental’s face suddenly stopped being a generic maniquine’s face and took on a youthful vistage which was still quite unidentifiable as male or female. Though it is cute. But that pun is so bad… It’s maybe not even a pun… Ow... Vulcan held a hoof up to its lips much like a schoolgirl giggling. A giggle which Ameili shared. “I’m not a wizard by any means. I am only a pyromancer who is talented in her field. Vulcan isn’t bound to me, he loves me and follows me of his own free will. I have never once summoned her, I only give her form when she asks for it or I would like to be with him. We met while I was camping alone as a young teen. She liked my talent for manipulating flame and called it ‘impressively beautiful’—” “Elemental’s can talk?” Trac asked intrigued by the idea enough to forget about a certain terrible joke for a second. Thank the sisters I didn’t mention the pun! Vulcan nodded twice. Retort looked at the odd couple before him with a baffled expression stamped on his face. “You mean to tell me elementals are people?” He asked. “I find that hard to believe,” Trac admitted. Vulcan rolled its eyes and mimed speaking, its mouth moving for several moments, yet producing no sound. Next the elemental mimed listening for something, then gave an exaggerated shrug and twisted its face into a caricature of the very concept of stupidity before returning its form to normal miming speech once more, only to put a hoof to its mouth and giggle once more. “... What did she say?” Trac asked suspiciously. Ameili bit her lip. “It was a little rude, but not undeserved. He said “I’m a corporial person, look at me! I can’t hear it talk so it must be just an animal. Oh well. Dur dur dur!” Then he said “You don’t look that dumb. Please don’t be rude to me. I took the time to learn how to hear you.” Retort winced and gave Vulcan an apologetic down. “Sorry. I’ve never met someone like you before is all. I mean, you’re not made of matter. We’re very different kinds of life.” “I don't think I’ve even seen a photograph of an elemental before,” Trac added. “You’re a very rare cre— Sorry, person, Vulcan.” Vulcan nodded and minded speech again, looking over to Ameili when it finished. “He says it’s okay. He understands your point of view, and wasn’t offended. He just wanted to do something to prove he was a person.” Trac nodded. “Makes sense. I wouldn’t want to be thought of as an animal either. So um,  is it possible for us to learn to hear him? Or is that a pyromancer only thing.” “Yeah!” Retort agreed. “I want to be able to chat. An immortal spirit of fire is someone I would love to talk to!” “Yes,” Ameili confirmed with a nod. “She does have lots of interesting things to talk about, and I can teach anyone how to speak to any elemental. There is but one language for all elemental spirits. I can teach you if you're interested but that will take time… “But I am in the middle of a story! As I was saying: Fire elementals take lifemates and they attract their mates with grand displays of fire. Vulcan adored the small-scale things I was doing, she’s not one for big flashy displays like forest fires. She asked if I was looking for a mate, and well, I had to say yes, as I was. “She proceeded to take me on a wonderful walk around the mountain, doing his best to mimic the way he’d seen mortals like me attract mates. It was a most flattering gesture, but as a pyrophile it was completely unnecessary. We began dating, getting to know one another, and after six months, we vowed to be lifemates. We’ve been together ever since. She’s been a great help, boosting my pyrokinetic abilities, and all she wants is tasty carbon treats and cuddles.” As Ameili finished the story, the mare and Elemental sat side by side, leaning against each other as all young couples do. “The-pun-is-bad-though,” Trac finally blurted. “What pun?” Retort asked. Vulcan held up one hoof and conjured a lump of fire in the shape of a pie, followed immediately by a second which manifested as a pair of hearts hugging. Retort frowned, still not getting it. Oh, Sisters… I have to say it. “Py-ROMANCE-r,” Trac groaned covering his face with his hooves. “It’s not just a bad pun, it’s a badly made pun…” “It’s a good one in Romane,” Ameili giggled, squeezing Vulcan’s hoof. Vulcan returned her affectionate gesture with a light shoulder nibble. Retort snorted, a grin forming on his lips. Climbing out of his chair he held out a hoof to Vulcan, who shook it politely. “Nice to meet half of a terrible pun. Don’t burn down my house,” he said half seriously half-jokingly. Trac’s eyes narrowed. He… Liked… It… Wut? Vulcan pointed to the rug it sat upon, showing their flame-body touching it while the rug remained perfectly intact. “He has complete control over what he burns. If you ask nicely, he might envelop a room and vaporize the dust for you. But don't get your hopes up. Dust tastes bad,” Ameili said with a chuckle. “I won’t ask then,” Trac said as he held out his own hoof. “Nice to meet you properly, Vulcan.” The elemental shook Track’s hoof, turned its head to kiss Ameili on her visor where her cheek would be and vanished. A few crumbs of charcoal drifted to the ground where it had been sitting. “I see, elementals need fuel to have a defined form,” Trac noted. That’s not in any book I’ve ever read. Considering how rare elementals are now, it’s not surprising. Ameili nodded. “Yes. Though she burns things much more slowly than non-spiritual fire.” “Why do you call Vulcan both he and she at random?” Trac asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “It seems a bit rude.” “Oh. Vulcan doesn't have a gender or feel like a male or a female. He just is. He told me he’ll use whatever pronouns I choose, and I’ve never been able to choose because nothing seems like a proper fit. Call him whatever you like.” “Vulcan curtsies, that’s a girl thing,” Retort said with a nod to himself before looking at Trac. “She?” “She,” Trac agreed with a nod. “I um, I guess I should get a little box of tinder for your room? So you two can be together when you want.” “That would be most generous, thank you,” Ameili said with another smile. “Well that was adorable,” Retort said as he sat back down with a smile. “Weird, but adorable.” “Thank you,” Ameili said, small flame-blushes forming over her cheeks. “Oh! Um, how long will you— I mean you two be staying with us?” Trac asked curiously. “Since Re said you could stay for however long. If you’ll be here long term we will need to figure out some way for you to eat.” “There’s a flap in my suit for food and waste packets. I can’t eat solid things. I get nutrient slurries right into the guts. Don’t worry, there’s no reason for me to ever leave containment,” Ameili said with a soothing smile as she leaned back on her forelegs. “As for how long I’ll stay… No one’s been this kind to me in a long time. “It would be nice to have some friends for a while. But I do like to travel… Could I stay for the winter?” Retort nodded. “Of course. That’s a few months yet, and I doubt you’ll want to leave first thing come spring. I’ll give Trac some bits so you can purchase anything you might need. For yourself or for your room,” he offered. “That’s kind of you. In the unlikely event I find employment, I will repay you with interest,” Ameili replied professionally. Trac frowned. “Um, I can’t this weekend. I have work tomorrow and the day after that. Could you take her to the store instead?” Retort hummed, stroking his chin for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I probably could call in a personal day. No one would blame me after today… And I could actually use one… You know what, that’s the plan. I’m not working tomorrow.” Retort stood up, stretched out his wings and yawned. “I need to sleep. I’ve had an excruciating day. See you next week, Trac. See you in the morning, Ameili. Vulcan too if you’re up to…” Retort paused, a look of pure confusion spreading across his face. The stallion, cleared his throat, quickly returning to normal as he looked at Trac. Ordinarily, Retort wouldn’t have said anything so crass in front of someone who was not a close friend. But with the weariness of a long day, the lingering stress of a lengthy gunfight, and the shock of Ameili’s visit weighing down his mind, he made a small mistake. “So um, remember what we were talking about just before I poked into your closet? How the buck do you think that work’s now?” Retort asked, wincing a moment later as he realized what he just said, and whom he said it infront of. Trac paused, not knowing what his friend was talking about for a short moment. How does what work? Then he remembered. “Oh. OH!” Trac exclaimed. She’s made of fire. How on— “Boys,” Ameili said with a playful smile and a wink. “Vulcan is tangible. It works like it does with anypony else. Only she never has cold hooves.” Retort cleared his throat, an awkward blush forming on his cheeks. It was one thing to talk about such stuff with an old friend, but in front of a new acquaintance who was also a mare... Trac joined Retort in his awkward blushing. Ameili formed a pair of flaming eye icons to roll them. “I’m a soldier,” she said shaking her head slowly while still grinning. “Not some stuffy noblemare in need of a good proctologist. Barracks humor and low brow conversations are most welcome. I don’t feel at home without them.” Retort chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll do my best to treat you like anyone on the force then. Good night.” Retort yawned again and trotted out of the living room via the west side door, heading for his bedroom. “I should sleep too. I have to learn a whole new system tomorrow,” Trac sad as he stood up, his chair creaking beneath him. Ameili’s ears perked under her hood. “A new weapon? What is it?” She asked with genuine intrigue. Trac shook his head. “Nah. I’m not an Infantry. I’m an Armor Crewman.” “Oh! Do you repair armor and related equipment? My brother did the same when he served,” Ameili said conversationally. Trac grinned and shook his head. “No, I’m not a Quartermaster. I drive tanks. Night!”