//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: Unshaken 
// by The 24th Pegasus 
//------------------------------//



Try to follow them: 52%





Gain progress toward the following Quirk: Daring (1/4)



“We should see where they’s runnin’ to,” Kestrel said with a shrug of her wings. “We might learn somethin’.”

“Learn somethin’?” Roughshod scoffed. “Only thing I wanna know is if these yellow-bellied bastards got stones on ‘em or not. I’m leaning toward that second one.”

Tumbleweed frowned, but Kestrel took a few steps closer. “You always sayin’ that knowledge is power, Boss. If we’s gonna set up camp ‘round these parts, we gotta know who our competition is. They had a lot of ponies for that one little wagon, and there might be way more of ‘em.”

“What does it matter if there’s more?” Roughshod countered. “Just means more to shoot. I say we gun ‘em down and be done with it.”

Finally, Tumbleweed sighed and shook his head. “No, no, I think… I think Kessie’s right on this one,” he said. When Roughshod bared his teeth in disgust, Tumbleweed fixed him down with a look. “We might have just put a huge target on our heads, and I ain’t fixin’ to be caught in its crosshairs unawares. If we can get a better look at what we’re up against, well, that might just save our lives one day.”

Though Roughshod obviously wasn’t happy with the decision, he didn’t protest it further. With that matter resolved, Tumbleweed turned his attention to Kestrel. “There’s too many of us to follow them on hoof and not get caught,” he said. “Go and take Silvie with you, get high, follow ‘em from the clouds. But if you find more than you handle, you promise me that you both get outta there and get back to camp.”

Kestrel nodded. “I know better than to push my luck too hard.”

“Good.” Tumbleweed then turned to the rest of the Gang. “Roughshod, Snapshot, grab those two bags of bits, we’ll haul ‘em back to camp and get ‘em counted out. Maybe there’s something we missed inside; this haul’s paltry compared to what I’d expect from dear Miss Rarity Belle’s fine enterprises.”

“I found some bills in the safe, but that’s it,” Kestrel said, digging the bill folds out of her duster and tossing them to Tumbleweed. “’Bout a hundred in there. Better than nothin’.”

Tumbleweed caught them in his magic and nodded. “Better than nothin’, I agree.” He tucked them into his pocket and patted her on the shoulder. “Good work with the wagon, for whatever this job was worth. See you back at camp.”

Kestrel tipped her hat. “I’ll be back by nightfall,” she said. Then, turning to Silver, she waved a wing. “C’mon, Silvie, let’s get some air.”

Silver bobbed her head in acknowledgment and slung her repeater across her back, nestling it in the space between her wings. As the stallions began to leave with the haul, the two mares took wing and began to climb into the sky at a leisurely pace, letting the hot air rising off of the desert do most of the heavy lifting for them. Kestrel knew they’d be in for a long flight, and she was already exhausted from her dash away from the wagon. The more rest she could get while gaining altitude, the better.

Fifteen minutes later, the two pegasi had climbed almost up to the clouds. The whole of the San Palomino desert stretched out beneath them, golden sands rolling off toward the horizons where umber mesas met sapphire skies. Buttes worn down by millions of years of wind and sand rose from the desert at regular intervals. To the north and east, the land gradually grew more rugged and stony until vegetation began to take it over, while the south and west were sandy dunes and dry ground framed by distant brown mountains and the faint blue tinge of the Luna Ocean. Towns dotted the landscape around oases and narrow rivers, and canyons hid plenty from sight, leaving their contents to the imagination.

“See ‘em?” Silver shouted over the high altitude winds. The mare’s gleaming coat seemed like a star out of place under the bright sun, only slightly dimmed by her cream-colored overcoat. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, and she squinted through the glare of the sun above and its reflection off the sands below.



Can Kestrel spot the fleeing survivors? No



Kestrel frowned at the desert sands below them and rubbed at her sand-heavy eyelashes with a fetlock. Her eyes drifted back and forth across the road below, but she didn’t see any clues to the survivors’ position. Last she’d seen, they’d entered into some rough and rugged terrain past a butte, but now there were no clouds of dust kicked up by hooves or pegasi flying over the landscape. Wherever they had gone, they were being careful, and Kestrel didn’t like that one bit.

“The bastards must be in the rough down below!” Kestrel shouted back. “Can’t see ‘em from here!”

“There’s a gulch up ahead!” Silvie shouted, pointing with a hoof toward the south. “Maybe ten, fifteen miles from the road. Think that’s where they’s headed?”



Does the gulch seem like a reasonable destination? Yes



“I don’t know where else they’d be runnin’ to!” Kestrel flapped her wings some more, wincing at the aches in her shoulders. When she finally got back to camp to rest, she didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her wings furled at her sides or not. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to use them for a few days while they recovered. “C’mon, let’s take a closer look!”

The two pegasi began to descend, circling wide of the rough terrain and the gulch at the end of it. Boulders and scraggly vegetation blocked their view into the terrain from above, but it would hopefully mask their approach if there was anypony else there looking out. Several minutes of descent brought the pair down low enough to investigate the land further, and Kestrel practically sighed with relief as she finally took her weight off of her wings and put it back onto her hooves.



Kestrel attempts to resist exhaustion: Fail





Kestrel is now Tired, suffering a -1 penalty to athletic checks until resting for several hours.



Silver flared her wings as she came to a stop by Kestrel’s side, and she raised an eyebrow in concern when the older mare hung her head and let her wings drape by her sides, panting from their flight. “You alright, Kestrel?” she asked, moving closer. “You ain’t lookin’ too good.”

“I’m fine,” Kestrel said between breaths. “Just… winded, s’all.”

Silver chewed on her lip and looked around. The high ground they’d chosen was empty and quiet, save for the buzzing of locusts. But Kestrel could tell by the way that her wings were fidgeting that the young pegasus hardly felt at ease. “I don’t like it here…” she murmured. “This is a bad idea…”

After taking a few sips from her canteen, Kestrel managed to stand upright and shake some of the sweat out of her mane. “C’mon, we’s here now, ain’t we? We better take a look around, otherwise we flew out all this way for nothing.”



Are Silver’s Instincts troubling her? No



Though Silver’s wings still fidgeted, she eventually chased her apprehension away with a shake of her head. “Right, right,” she said, trotting up to Kestrel’s side. “Let’s go take a look, then.”

The two mares stalked low through the dried-out bushes and whiting cacti, careful to stay as quiet as possible. The ridge they’d landed on offered a decent look into the gulch, though the rocky mess of the geography made it difficult to see everything. Eventually, the two mares crawled forward over the hot ground until they could peer down into the ravine.



How much detail of the gulch can Kestrel see? 10



Thankfully, the spot they’d chosen gave Kestrel a perfect view of what she could see in the gulch. Several tents had been pitched around a spring, and smoke rose from several fires before the persistent breeze above the rocks blew it away. A few wagons had been rounded off at one end of the camp, and Kestrel spied what looked like enough guns to form a state militia’s armory. One wagon in particular had been separated off from the others, and when she squinted, she thought she could see the glitter of gold beneath a half-fastened canvas flap.

Then there were the ponies. She didn’t know exactly how many she could see at a glance, but there were at least two dozen of them, and maybe more. Whoever this gang was, they were large and organized, even if they didn’t have the best fighters, as proven by their previous encounter. A gang like this could be trouble for her own gang if they happened to cross paths in numbers.

“Look at all that gold!” Silver exclaimed in an excited whisper. “These ponies must just hit everythin’ that strays near their territory. I wonder how much they have stockpiled?”

“A damn lot, I reckon,” Kestrel murmured.

“What should we do?” Silvie asked her. “That’s a lot of ponies…”

1.     Leave and report back to the Gang. We know there’s a lotta ponies here, and there’s a lotta loot as well. But every moment we risk stayin’ out here is a moment we could get found out. Let’s bail before it’s too late.

2.     Stick around and try to gather more information. What we’ve found is good, but there’s a chance we might find somethin’ even better if we can get a closer look… [DANGEROUS]

3.     Attempt to steal some of that gold. The Gang’ll hail Silvie and me as goddesses if we come back with some of that gold. And after all, gold’s what we need right now, right? [EXTREMELY DANGEROUS]

(Confidence Required: 30 Votes)