Salt walked through the swinging doors of the pony saloon instantly taking in the atmosphere. Hatred oozed from everypony in there. Not so much hatred than disdain, distrust and a primal hatred coming from centuries of racism. The thing is, being an equine in Equestria offers you 50 percent chances to suffer racism. Being a three tailed fox coming from a foreign country and looking as nice as a rusty nail board, the probabilities quickly raise up to 100 percent.
The hostile crowd silently watching Salt did nothing to block his path when he slowly reached the counter, still trying to judge how tough was the newcomer. Anyone knowing him would have noticed the slight limp in his foreleg, his drained look and unfocused eyes, but after all, you don’t come out unscathed from an encounter with a pair of twins two tailed dark kitsune. One was invoking shadowy yokai while the other tried to drain his life force every time he got distracted. It took him a while to figure out they were using their illusion not to hide themselves, but each hiding the other one. Once that was taken care of, the battle didn’t last too long, but he had lost most of his supplies and particularly his canteen. Two days in the wasteland without water had taken a toll on him, and a bunch of fuckers wouldn’t stand between him and some water.
“A big glass of water.” Salt harshly asked the bartender while taking a big puff on his last cig. His cigarette glow red, consuming a big part of the filter then fell to the ground.
“Fuck.”
The bartender landed a big glass in front of him as demanded, and Salt dived in. Instantly the sharp taste and hard punch of high liquor hit him, though his body was in so much need of water that he couldn’t stop himself of finishing the glass in one go. He could broke the bartender’s leg later. What Salt didn’t expected was that his resources, both magical and physical were so low that the alcohol whacked him way harder that it should have been. And worst, he could feel the aftertaste of spiritual magic in his blood.
Salt tried to get up and shout the at the bartender to bring real water to him, maybe using a bit of illusion magic to make everyone stay put. But that did not happen. Salt felt himself tilt forward then hit the counter. He never felt the floor.
Pox opened his eyes. He was on the floor. That was strange, ponies don’t stay on the floor. Then he realized a lot of ponies were looking at him, smiling.
“Hi” he said in a cheerful tone. “Pox is Pox. And Pox is thirsty, can Pox have apple juice, pleaaase.”
Ponies began to laugh, that was always a good sign in Pox mind. A big pony behind a strange table gave him a glass of apple juice and asked. “Pox ? that’s a strange name, even for a strange guy like you. Where does that come from ?”
Pox grabbed the glass with his teeth and with a tilt of the head drank all the juice while spilling a good third on himself.
“Pfuuah, Pox is Pox.” he began. “Because everypony is a kind pony, and some ponies flies and some ponies do magic and some ponies are strange. But ponies say Pox is a fox, so Pox is a pony fox, so Pox is Pox.”
Silence reign while everypony tried to make sens of the explanation. Then the crowed exploded in laughter again. Pox was happy, he made new friends. That’s when Pox growled. Everypony looked at the fox that in turn looked at his belly.
“Pox is hungry. Can Pox has a treat ?” He cutely trotted toward the nearest mare, which seemed to be a mercenary of some sort with a leather armor reinforced with metal plate and a long rifle strapped to her side. Her face became confused and alarmed when this dark three tailed fox almost as big as her sat in front of her with the biggest two toned puppy eyes she had ever seen.
“Can Pox has a treat, pleeeaase ?” Pox continued. “Pox can do a roll. Can Pox get treats if he do a roll ?”
The mare shuffled her hooves then looked at the bartender. “Well I’ve got nothing, miste..eeeer, Pox. But I maybe can buy you something to eat.” she took a step back from the oozing cuteness before her. “Hey, Bobby, give the little guy something, put it on my tab.”
The bartender passed the counter and came to a stop before Pox, holding a bag fancybuck-cake.
“Did you say something about a roll ?” he asked mischievously.
“Yes.” Pox answered innocently. “Pox can do rolls.”
“Then, do some rolls for me, and I’ll give you the cakes.” offered Bobby.
Pox got to the ground and rolled on his back “and hop, Pox rolls.” He rolled the other way “And hop, Pox rolls. Can Pox has a treat now.”
The Bartender was laughing harder than the rest of the crowd and tossed a cake to Pox. “Continue little guy, there’s more coming.” And then pox rolled right and left each time punctuating his action by an overly sweet “And hop, Pox rolls.”
The little game continued for a while, everyone laughing and chatting about the fox doing child play on the floor when a female voice said “Oh come on, don’t be like that, he’s just a cutie.”
Something snapped. No, not a metaphorical snap, like “snap out of it” or any realization. A big snapping sound was heard and with the wailing of Bobby the bartender screaming “My leg !” it was soon clear that the snapping sound came from right under his knee were his leg now took an unnatural sharp turn.
Salt rose up from the ground with all his presence, seeming to dwarf everypony around him. Light grew dark, air smelt electric and far away from the town the screaming could be heard.
“DAMN YOU ! I WILL FIND YOU ! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, SOMEDAY I WILL FIND YOU, AND YOU’LL TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO ME !!!!!”
Nowadays, the legend remain of a powerful spirit under the traits of a three tailed fox that came to the town and lured the towns folks into a funny game before destroying the saloon. But strangely enough, if the legend doesn’t run out on crazy details about the display of power the spirit used, the legend also maintain that only one pony was injured that day.