//------------------------------// // Chapter Nine: Give & Take // Story: Tales From The West: Grit & Lead // by Docks //------------------------------// Chapter Nine "Wow...That really sucked..." Dusty quietly stated. Ballad let out a gruff sigh at his grandfoal's simple declaration. "Yes, Dusty it does indeed, suck." The old stallion answered. "Hey Grandpa, I got a question. Was the West really like that?" Sugar Sap chimed in. Ballad's eyes popped as he was taken aback by his grandfoal's switch in behavior. "Well now look who's the one with the questions now!" Dusty quipped as he snickered at his cousin. Ballad let out a light chuckle as he playfully rubbed a pale yellow hoof into his grandfilly's mane. "It's good to see you finally takin' to my advice!" Sugar Sap let out an annoyed sigh and fixated a look upon her lighthearted grandfather. "Anyway to answer yer question youngster..." The wrinkled stallion turned his gaze upon all the faded memorabilia adorning the kitchen and let out tired breath. "Yes, the Wild West was a prime time for folks like Highcrown and Bulwark to thrive. But you also need to know the West had some good ponies doin' their best to live a good 'n honest life." Ballad answered with a hint of sadness. "So what changed? How'd an era full of gunslingers and crooks turn into The Mild West?" The sheriff's grandfilly inquired. "A lot of things Sugar..." Ballad solemnly replied before shaking of his dreary tone and shifting back into his usual happy-go-lucky nature. "Let’s leave that for a later time. Now how 'bout we continue on with our story..." ------------------- The desert sun continued to beat down upon the figure toiling underneath its intensive gaze. Thistle ignored the sweat droplets seeping into his eyes until he finished his somber task. The stallion slowly brought himself up before taking a step back to inspect the freshly created mound of dirt in front of him. Thistle took a long hard stare at the unmarked grave and let out a melancholy sigh. "I know you grieve for the lost of your ward, but if the words of the captain ring true we are still in danger sir!" A voice called from behind the weary pony. The ardent stallion brushed off the prince's words and began to collect various rocks from the desert ground. "I know...But I'm not finished yet." Thistle bitterly replied as he worked. "Very well, I will honor your wishes." The zebra responded as he observed Thistle's actions from a distance. Winged silhouettes began to circle overhead as Thistle began to meticulously place his collected stones upon Stone Tail's grave, forming a circle in the middle as he worked outward. The earth pony took stock of his work and wiped away the sweat building upon his forehead; a simple figure of Celestia's solar crest now adorned the grave. “Celestia forgive me...” Thistle took one last look at Stone Tail's simple grave before turning his back. "Alright let's get outta here." The diplomat shook his head before quickly trotting to the gunslinger's side. "Before we depart sir, may I say some words on the behalf of your fallen comrades?" The stallion slowly nodded in agreement. "It's only fitting to have something official..." Thistle softly answered. “We zebras may not adhere to the same creeds you ponies do, but I believe what I have in mind shall suit the mood." Ibn-Sadd proclaimed before bowing his head."Oh Creator, please accept my words as I recount the noble actions and sacrifice of those that fell honoring their duties on this day..." The diplomat whispered as he trotted towards the lone grave. The gunslinger heard the zebra's faint words and watched the robe clad prince bowed his head until the tip of his striped muzzle touched the freshly turned dirt; his prayer growing in volume. "Though we mourn for the lost of these brave souls, let us take solace that their virtuous deeds shall keep the Angra at bay!" The white robbed zebra's passionate invocation ended with Ibn-Sadd lightly pressing his fore hooves into the ground next to Stone Tail's final resting place. "The soldier I talked to never mentioned you actually chatting with 'um. You've got a great memory if you were able to memorize those ponies' names." Thistle stated with a hint of awe. "You forget sir, I am a diplomat after all." Ibn-Sadd curtly replied. Thistle’s depressed mood lightened up as he offered a hoof to the striped prince. "You ponies call this a hoof shake correct? Back In Saddle Arabia we offer thanks and gratitude with a hug." The zebra kindly interjected before glancing at the dirtied earth pony before him. "But as I am in Equestria, it is only proper." "I ain't much for prayin' Prince, let alone knowledgeable in how you zebras do things, but that was nice....Good to know Stone Tail had a proper burial...So, thank you." The stallion quietly composed as he shook the prince's striped hoof. "Your actions showed great affection for the young pony. This bodes well for my growing impressions of Equestria. Tell me. are most ponies just as honorable as you?" The diplomat probed. Far from it... Thistle contemplated as painful memories began surface to the top of the stallion's head. No time for this damn it! The stallion ignored the diplomat's question and his own inner strife as he motioned for the zebra to follow behind him. "I still need to get you to safety Prince." Ibn-Sadd simply nodded his head in response. "I know the words of a stranger aren't much, but know that you have my deepest condolences and my undying gratitude for the service you have done for me today." The zebra consoled. "Stone Tail's spirit shall rest easy knowing you were able to avenge his death." You haven’t changed...Still givin’ out hollow promises... The earth pony’s conscious began to reel, before a curt shake of his head brough him back to reality. “Let’s get goin...” The stallion abruptly ordered. The prince and gunslinger put their hooves to dirt and quickly left behind the isolated grave. He ain't restin' easy... Thistle did his best to subdue the thoughts running in his mind and focused his attention upon the current task at hoof. The two continued their hard gallop across the desert frontier, Thistle’s eyes probing every rocky outcrop and vegetation that could conceal a potential ambush. "M-may t-there be a chance that w-we can slow d-down?" Ibn-Sadd croaked. Thistle eased into a steady trot as he turned his head towards the fatigued prince. "Fine ten minutes, nothing more and nothing less." The stallion commanded. Ibn-Sadd let out a sigh of relief as he laid his hindquarters onto the warm desert ground. "Your perseverance is admirable, Mister Wri--" The diplomat took a brief pause as he remembered Bulwark's words. "You are not a part of Equestria's Royal Guard, correct? These colors of yours all point to this being true. May I know your true identity so I may sing proper praise of you." Thistle let out a muted curse, before he began to frantically draft himself a new cover story. He's a diplomat for Celestia's sake! I need something convincing... Thistle quickly turned around to face the seated zebra. Hope this works... "You can address me as Marshal Iron Nerves of the Equestrian Marshal Service, sir. Parliament tasked me with integrating myself into your escort as an extra layer of protection." The stallion's recited as he mimicked his previous disguise's mannerisms. The zebra slowly eyed Thistle as he began to mentally process the gunslinger's gambit. "Yes, that would make sense!" Ibn-Sadd exclaimed. "A pony as talented as you must be one of their numbers. I've heard your politicians regale me with tales of the Marshals tenacity and skill." Thistle let out a breath of relief as turned his back to the prince before resuming his vigil. Ibn-Sadd began to fan his face with a striped hoof as the sweltering heat continued to sap his strength. "I should really be accustomed to this heat...But we Saddle Arabians rarely spend so much effort under these conditions!" The stallion ignored the zebra's plea and motioned for him to get up. "Ten minutes have passed sir. We need to keep moving." The diplomat nodded his tired head, before struggling to get back on his limbs. Thistle bounded to the zebra's side and assisted the prince with a hoof. "Come on, we ain't got time for thi--Damn it!" The earth pony shouted as he noticed a clouded mass of dirt growing closer to them. The earth pony let out a stressed grunt as he swiftly pulled Ibn-Sadd up. The zebra turned his head to get a look at what caused his guardian's outburst. "Oh dear..." "We either lose them with speed or I try and buy you time to get to Cross Roads!" Thistle hurriedly explained. "Well I thi-Waghh!" Ibn-Sadd gasped as Thistle shoved his side with a hoof. "Gallop first, then answer!" The zebra let out a drained groan, before putting his debilitated hooves to the ground once more. The gunslinger followed close behind the prince and shifted his attention between the oncoming pursuers and their target. "Have you reached an answer?" Thistle frantically asked. The zebra slowed himself down until Thistle was at his side. "I have and I'm afraid we must find a place for you to deal with these villains. If I keep up at the speed we require, I don't think I'll make it...I'm sorry Marshal." Ibn-Sadd bleakly replied. Thistle let out a determined grunt in response. "My duty is to see you to safety and I prom--" The stallion choked as memories of Stone Tail's lifeless eyes blankly staring at the gunslinger came flooding back. Thistle shut his eyes as conflicting thoughts raged across his conscious. You failed the kid... You have a chance at this one... You don't owe this zebra anything... I've changed... How many times have you broken your word...? What's done is done... Then why not give up the ghost...? "I can't..." Thistle whispered under his breath, burying his inner turmoil once more before turning his attention back to the worried prince. "I promise that I'll get you out of this alive! I'll see what I can do to slow them down. You just keep headin' north till you get to Cross Roads, you'll be safe there!" Thistle commanded as he abruptly turned to face the oncoming figures. "Creator turn his gaze on you!" Ibn-Sadd shouted as he galloped past the resolute earth pony. Thistle hunkered down as he unfolded the carbine at his back. The stallion began to manipulate his weapon's frame and pushed out its cylinder with a hoof, swiftly ejecting the spent casings. The earth pony immediately used his mouth to load a fresh clip of rounds into his empty weapon. With a simple flick of his left shoulder; his firearm’s cylinder locked onto the weapon's frame with a muted click. The gunslinger bided his time as he watched the incoming silhouettes become more defined, revealing three ponies and two donkeys racing towards the lone stallion. The galloping posse were garbed in leather dusters with white handkerchiefs tied at different points of their bodies. The gunslinger watched the looming gangsters eventually break off, sending two of their number looking to maneuver themselves around Thistle, whilst the rest continued on their path to the waiting stallion. “Ain't gettin' by me so easily!” Thistle shouted as he quickly launched himself into a maddened gallop to intercept the pair. Noticing the stallion's actions the group charging at the gunslinger began to adjust their course to try and cut him off. Thistle briefly cut his pursuit and greeted the oncoming three with quick discharge of fire from his carbine. Thistle's scattered salvo missed his intended targets, but caused them to keep their distance from the single stallion. Several seconds passed before bullets began to whiz by the gunslinger as the three-composed of a unicorn and two donkeys wearing similar barding to his own shortly returned fire at the galloping stallion. Thistle put on an extra burst of speed as he tried to catch up to the two earth ponies fleeing the pursuing stallion. The thundering fire of his assailants behind him continued to sound off, sending lethal lead zooming past him and striking the ground mere inches away from his hooves. Thistle's intense gallop allowed himself to close the distance between him and the fleeing ponies to a few dozen yards. He continued to maintain his speed as he began to focus and sight down a lime hued earth pony in front of him. The stallion's breathing slowed down as he tensed his body to steady his jostling firearm. Spending no less than a second; he bit down upon his mouth trigger, sending a single wasp sized bullet crashing into the unaware pony’s withers. The unfortunate stallion let out a cry of pain as his entire body buckled and sent the pony crashing into the hard unforgiving terrain. His cream colored companion let out a gasp as he turned his head to catch a glimpse at the grim looking pony rushing straight at him. Four shots left...How to hoof thi-- Faint shouting from behind interrupted Thistle's thinking and was soon followed up by another barrage of bullets that whistled by the stallion's body and head, but one lead shot managing to pierce clean through the stallion's left ear. Thistle ignored the searing pain as he continued to push forward, eventually finding himself galloping alongside the lone gang member. The duster clad stallion noticed the galloping pony next to him and turned his head at the adjacent figure. "What the?! Aren't y'all soldier boys supposed to be whi--You bastard!" The earth pony curtly objected as Thistle rammed his body into the brigand's own. The two ponies began jockeying for supremacy, whilst the two matched each other's speed. "Yer in way over yer head stranger!" Thistle’s foe vehemently crowed. Thistle and his opponent exchanged charging blows, before the bandit began to slow down and letting the gunslinger gallop pass him. Thistle swung his head around to see his opponent resume his gallop, whilst drawing an exact copy of the gunslinger's own weapon from underneath his duster. Buck! "You'll regret ever crossin' the Ivory Spurs!" The bandit shouted before wrapping his mouth around the gray mouth trigger. Thistle turned his head one last time to see the bandit catching up and staring straight at him through the iron sights of his weapon. Sonuva...Only one thing to do... The gunslinger let out a colossal cry as he immediately dug his hooves into the dirt. The earth pony barely registered Thistle's gamble as he crashed face first into the uniformed pony's back. Thistle let out a gasp of pain as the force of the collision knocked the wind from his lungs. Damnit, Get up! Get up! The gunslinger pushed past the pain and immediately checked to see if his plan worked, whilst he struggled back onto his hooves. A fresh salvo of bullets sailing by the stallion’s head forced him to swiftly recuperate. Thistle quickly kicked up a fresh cloud of dirt as he left behind the unconscious earth pony and the remaining Ivory Spur members hot on his tail. The gunslinger lead the unicorn and donkey pair across the desert vast plains; his beleaguered body beginning to show signs of fatigue. Eventually the lone pony's remaining strength waned, leading the tired stallion into a sluggish trot. The pursuing trio hastily closed the gap between their exhausted prey and slowly fanned out to surround Thistle. The stallion's eyes swiftly darted between the sky blue unicorn and his two gray donkey subordinates. "End of the line, stranger!" The trio's leader spat. "You gave me 'n boys quite the run around, but it's time you saddle up for wasting our time!" Thistle let out a sharp chuckle as he pointed his firearm at the unicorn. "Sorry pal, but I ain't gonna let a buncha no names do me in. Besides that zebra is probably halfway to Cross Roads by now." The worn stallion goaded. The leader's horn began to glow as he readied the rifle that was slung to his back; his two compatriots followed suit and placed their weapons’ sights upon the stallion's head. "You've got a death wish don't 'cha? Well me 'n boys we'll be happy to oblige! On one boys!" The unicorn began to count down with the pinned gunslinger mentally following along. “3...2...” In a split second before the blue pony finished his count; Thistle dropped onto his stomach, narrowly dodging the hail of lead that streaked overhead. The earth pony instinctively bit down upon his firearm's trigger and sent a bullet crashing into the donkey to his left. "Shoot him!" The unicorn frantically shouted as he fumbled with his rifle's lever. The unicorn’s bewildered compatriot was felled before he could focus his weapon upon the prone stallion. A faint metallic click signaled the unicorn's success before he swiftly leveled his firearm at Thistle's head once more. "How quick are you on the trigger stranger?" The unicorn snidely asked as his eyes raced between the barrel aimed at him and Thistle's icy gaze. The two ponies’ eyes remained dead set on each other, both waiting for the other to telegraph a signal. Thistle ignored his flaring heartbeats and shallow breaths; his senses solely focused upon his single foe. Within the flash of a second, the unicorn's horn rapidly intensified as his magic began to pull upon his gun's trigger. *BANG* "Quick enough." The gunslinger quietly replied as he watched his adversary stumble forward, before limply falling to the ground underneath. The afternoon sun began to dip, casting a long shadow of the lone figure galloping underneath the clear frontier skies. ------------------- Thistle heaved a long drawn out sigh as he slowly trotted down into the moonlit grove that surrounded Highcrown's estate. The abode’s windows were teeming with light and acted as a beacon for the returning gunslinger. Celestia please give me this one... Thistle's hoof slowly beat upon its solid wooden doors sending a low sounding knock echoing across the silent grove. The doors slowly creaked open for the weathered stallion. "By my ancestors’ downs! Is that you Thistle?" Highcrown declared as the gunslinger trotted into the estate's pristine lobby. "Yep." Thistle casually answered. "You are a grand mess! I'll have my butler run you a hot bath this instant." The gryphon soothed. "Once you recuperate, I'm sure you'll want to have a long hard chat with me. I’ll be in my study when you are done tending to your needs.” Highcrown stated as he watched Thistle sluggishly trot past him. The earth pony slowly nodded his head before climbing up the estate's grand staircase. Thistle returned to his room and was greeted by a calming heat originating from the steam filled bathroom. Thistle began to unbuckle the barding strapped to his soiled uniform and sent his equipment tumbling onto the marbled floor with an audible thud. Rearing onto his hind legs, Thistle began to fiddle with his uniform's buttons and loosened each one as he worked his way down. The stallion let out a relieved sigh as he shrugged the uniform off, revealing his stained coat underneath. The stallion let out a heavy groan as he eased himself into the freshly prepared tub. "Ahhhhh..." Thistle slowly shut his eyes as the day's events finally began to take their toll upon the strained pony. ------------------- They'll always be with you... Pallid Eyes... Vivid Hymn... Long Legs... Ambrose... Roaming Skies... Teague... Saddle Bags... Stone Tail... ------------------- "Damn it all..." Thistle whispered as he slowly opened his eyes. The earth pony quickly shook his head as he subdued the thoughts flowing through his conscious. “Buck...how long was I out for?” Thistle mused to himself as his hooves trembled trying to pull himself out of the tub. Thistle let out a drawn out breath as he tried to ease the shaking in his limbs. The stallion slowly trotted to a nearby fogged window and hastily wiped at it with a hoof; he began to poke at the newly added hole on his left ear. "Just what I needed..." The pony groaned as he exited the bathroom and headed for the small chest located at the bed's end. Thistle's hooves continued to rattle as he opened the simple chest containing his gear. The stallion stood motionless as his eyes fixated upon the black and red revolver sitting atop his gear. No time for wallowin'...You still have unsettled business. Thistle let loose a bitter grunt as the uneasy shaking in his hooves began to slowly dissipate. He quickly gathered his gear and hastily buckled them on. The gunslinger took one last look at his reflection in the mirror, a weathered and beaten pony greeted his ragged eyes. "Whiskey outta do you some good..." The stallion sarcastically joked to himself before making his way out the door. Thistle slowly pushed open the door to Highcrown's illuminated study, and seeing the pudgy gryphon seated behind his wooden desk . "I do hope you took enough time seeing to yourself before coming here Mister Thistle." Highcrown asked as he offered a seat to the standing pony. The stallion shook his head in response. "I'll be fine." Thistle calmly answered. "Always acting the stoic." The gryphon jested. Thistle arched an eye at the gryphon, oblivious to the words meaning. "What did you call me?" Highcrown let out a curt sigh. "Never mind Mister Thistle. Shall we get back to business?" "Go on." "I was quite worried to see that zebra make his way into town by himself. Rambling about how his convoy was ambushed and that a Marshal's brave sacrifice helped him make it to Cross Roads alive. Good to see that my fears have been misplaced.” “Thank you Celestia... “ The earth pony quietly muttered to himself. Highcrown leaned upon his desk as he stared straight at the pony across from him. "Reports are vague on what exactly happened due to the close proximity to Ivory Spur territory. I would like to know the full story of what exactly went down in Tall Pines." Highcrown formally inquired. Thistle matched the gryphon's stare with a cold look. "It's simple, we were set up. Not by that contact of yours, but by the bastard leading the convoy and The Ivory Spurs. Your boys didn't show up either, I'd bet my bits the Ivory Spurs got 'um as well." "That's a real shame then. I had such high hopes for this plan working out in the end." Highcrown callously declared before reclining onto the back of his chair. "Oh well." The gunslinger was taken aback by the gryphon's lax tone. "What are you getting at? Your whole plan backfired in yer face!" Highcrown let out a soft chuckle in response to Thistle’s outburst. "That may be true, but why get hot and bothered over a single failure when you've got so many other options. You Mister Thistle, are one of them." The gryphon smoothly declared. "Now listen here damn it! I went through Tartarus and back trying to fulfill your damned job and I sure as buck ain't gonna keep on runnin’ around doing any more of your buckin' errands!" The stallion roared as he bolted onto his hind legs. "Now I want to know where he's at before I force it outta yah!" Thistle demanded whilst he primed his left hoof to draw his holstered revolver. The gray furred gryphon let out a piercing cry of laughter. "Did you forget our little deal Mister Thistle? You failed to fulfill your assignment! Now, i've got a few more jobs you can run for me and once you take care of them, i’ll tell you everything you want to know." Highcrown snidely offered. The gunslinger let out an indignant snort and hastily drew his firearm upon Highcrown. "Please Mister Thistle, I've had many a folk aim their gun of choice at me." The gryphon easily stated as he countered the stallion's intense glare with a nonchalant shake of a talon. "None of them fired a single shot and you want to know why? I had something every single one of those desperate bastards wanted." Highcrown recited before flashing a disarming smile at Thistle. "Shoot me now and you'll never get any information on the whereabouts of Snakeweed!" "Wrong answer!" The gunslinger spat before a single thunderous clap overtook his words. "D-didn't t-t-think you'd a-a-actually shoot!" Highcrown gagged as he clenched his bleeding shoulder with a talon. The stallion swiftly bucked the desk in front of him and sent it crashing into the wounded gryphon's body. Highcrown let out an asphyxiating cough as he struggled to get up; his blurred vision struggled to distinguish between the falling pieces of scattered paper and the slowly advancing silhouette. A sluggish clicking noise soon filled the battered gryphon's ears. "Tell me what I want to know..." Highcrown let out a wheezing laugh in response to his employee’s demand. "Pl-please, you won't get anything with that kind of ton--" Thistle promptly slammed his hoof onto his revolver’s hammer, drowning out the gryphon's words with another deafening crack. "Gahhhhh! M-my w-wing..." Highcrown's breathing grew shallow as he tried to desperately ignore the fresh torrents of pain. "I've got four more bullets Highcrown, and I will make the last one go right between your eyes! Now are we going to have to keep playing this game until you tell me what I want to hear?" The gunslinger harshly chided. Highcrown immediately began to wave his talons in the air. "L-lets b-be fair y-you did fail to complet--What are you going to do now?!" The gryphon frantically demanded as Thistle slowly inched his way towards him. "Aughhhhh!" Highcrown let out pained shriek as the earth pony buried his revolver’s still smoking barrel into the gryphon's gaping shoulder wound. The stallion's frigid eyes stared straight into the gryphon's emerald set. "You w-won't get anyt-thing from me..." Thistle slowly shook his head as he pushed the barrel further into the wailing gryphon. "From what I read on those papers of yours I can just kill you now and all I have to do is simply hunt down every member of the Ivory Spurs until he takes notice! " Thistle coldly calculated. Highcrown wiped at his bloodied beak before letting out a labored cackle. "That's madness! Y-You'll be long dead b-before you even get close to Snakeweed." Thistle slowly withdrew his firearm and calmly placed it between the gryphon's bulging eyes. "Just like you if I don't get what I want." Thistle callously insisted. Highcrown’s mind began to race as he was confronted with the stallion's ultimatum. "Y-you win..." The stallion directed an unearthly laugh towards crippled gryphon. “Now that wasn’t hard now was it?” Thistle smoothly lectured. “Now first things first, I want whatever you were goin' to pay me and Stone Tail's part, and times all of it by five." Highcrown clenched his wound once more as he focused his eyes upon his tormentor. "Y-you're a cold blooded pony aren't y-you Mister Thistle...Taking the pay of a dead pony for your own." The gryphon tiredly jabbed. "W-when you leave you'll g-get your b-bits." "Keep thinkin’ that and I can show just how cold blooded I can get.” The gunslinger retorted. Highcrown let out a ragged fit of coughing before shaking his head. “Good...Now I want to know where Stone Tail's family lives." Thistle commanded with a tinge of bitterness. The gryphon's face contorted into a sickly grin. "Stone Tail's money isn't enough for you? I-I was f-fool to test a ruthless stallion like yourself..." Highcrown pointed a shaking talon at a jumbled mess of papers. "The address should be in there, on a small piece of brown paper." Thistle swiftly pushed back the painful memories of his failure before swiftly locking his eyes upon the prone gryphon. "Now thats all said ‘n done...Where can I find him?" "L-last I h-heard Snakeweed was s-sighted all the way west, in Mareizona..." Thistle let out a sigh as he wiggled his gun's barrel upon the gryphon's forehead. "Mareizona is a big place Highcrown can you be more specific?" "C-check in Two-Suns..." "Now that wasn't that hard, now was it?" Thistle admonished before holstering his revolver. Highcrown let out wretched fit of coughing as he strained to sit himself back up. "....It'll be for you...Y-You've got quite the road to travel Mister Thistle..." The gryphon quietly stated. "We’ll see, but I think we're done here." Thistle nonchalantly declared as he trotted over the scattered pieces of paper that covered the study’s wooden flooring. "If I see any of yer boys stalkin' me, i’ll see to it that I finish what we started here." The gunslinger viciously declared, before picking up a small square sheet with his teeth and stuffing it into one of his pouches. “And one more thing, you’d best tend to those wounds Mister Highcrown...” Thistle casually suggested as he calmly trotted out of the ruined study. "You'll get what's coming to you Mister Thistle..." Highcrown bitterly swore as he slowly struggled back onto his limbs. The gunslinger slowly made his way back to the estate's imposing lobby. The gryphon's butler held the estate’s doors open for the approaching earth pony; two large saddle bags sitting at his hooves. "T-Three thousand five-hundred b-bits have been c-c-counted for you, sir. E-Everything the m-master owes you are in these bags sir. W-W-Will you be n-needing anything else?" The quaking pegasus stuttered out. Thistle nodded his head and hoofed a small piece of paper to the butler. "Where can I find this address?" ------------------- The midnight moon cast itself over the barren Frontier as the gunslinger arrived in front of a lone cabin. The lit silhouette of Cross Roads faintly glowing to the east. Now or never... Thistle slowly wrapped a hoof upon the cabin's wooden door, sending a single thud quietly echoing across the small property. The pony's ears picked up the sound of faint crying and rushed hoof beats coming from behind the cabin's walls. "Y-yes?" A muted voice asked from behind the door. "Is this the home of a, Miss Calm Leaf?" The stallion calmly asked. Faint clicking sounded off and a tired faced mare poked her head out to get a better look at the bandolier clad stallion. "Celestia! Have you come to rob me?!" The orange pegasus cried. "Easy ma'am! I ain't here to harm you or anything." Thistle immediately soothed. "Then who are you and what do you want?" Calm Leaf worriedly questioned. "The names Marshal Iron Nerves of the Equestrian Marshal Service ma'am." The stallion announced in the same tone Stone Tail taught him. Calm Leaf opened the door to its fullest and slowly looked Thistle over. "A Marshal? What the hay are you doing out here? My family didn't do anything illegal!" "Steady ma'am, you're not in trouble or anything..." Thistle eased before letting loose somber sigh. "I've come to talk to you 'bout your son." The pegasus mare let out an abrupt gasp. "What?! News about my son?" Calm Leaf blurted out. "It comes with a heavy heart that I must tell you that your son is dead...His group were ambushed by a group of bandits at the town of Tall Pines...." Thistle struggled to finish answer. "Private Stone Tail died serving his country..." Calm Leaf’s worried face soon gave way to pure shock. "My son...This some kind of sick joke?!" Thistle gently shook his head. "I'm sorry ma'am." "Don't give me that overblown serving his country shit! Stone Tail was barely out of colthood and yer precious Parliament expected him to go north and fight!" Calm Leaf screamed; her eyes beginning to cloud up with tears. "I spent all of my money to bribe that officer to keep my precious boy on the Frontier! He told me that it was going to be a safe job for Stone Tail!" Sonuvabitch... "I-I am tru--Uhmphh." Thistle let out a curt grunt as Calm Leaf slammed a hoof into the stallion's chest. "Bastard! Aren't you Marshals supposed to be hunting down those types that killed my son?!" Thistle remained still and endured the mare's mixed onslaught, all the while trying to stave off his own guilt ridden conscious. "...First my husband and now my only son? Celestia why!" The pegasus began to choke upon her words. "O-Oh Stone T-T-Tail...." The mare slowly fell onto her hooves before letting out an anguished wail. "Ma'am, I kn--" The distressed mare swiftly bolted back up and slapped her hoof across the earth pony's face. "You know? How can you possibly know how I feel right now! I bet those asshole politicians told you to say something like that! G-Get out, damn it. Just get out of here!" Calm Leaf achingly shouted to the stone faced stallion. "This was all the bits your son accumulated over the time of his service..." Thistle quietly stated as he slowly shrugged off the two saddle bags on his back. An audible wooden groan drummed out as the laden bags hit the flooring underneath. Calm Leaf continued to mourn the loss of her son, ignoring Thistle’s gesture. The earth pony softly trotted away from the broken hearted mother and headed into the moonlit desert; his conscious bearing down upon him as he headed westward.