The morning was humid, overcast, and the air held the scent that promised thunderstorms. They had more water than they knew what to do with due to the waterfall, and Sundance worried about what the rains might do. Floodgate’s drainage system was top-notch, but Sundance still worried even though there was probably no cause to do so. He surveyed his surroundings with a cool expression, though his brows were furrowed with tiny creases of worry.
There was much to do this morning. He had to stop by the infirmary, check in on Corduroy as well as the pups, and then introduce said pups to their new mother. Hollyhock had gone to bed early, and so the pups were left with Corduroy for their first night. She said she didn’t mind, but Sundance wasn’t so sure. He didn’t think that Corduroy had lied to him, but he did suspect that she was uncomfortable with the idea that the pups might grow attached to her.
“Milord, a moment.”
It was Earwax, who seemed to be doing quite well on three legs.
“What’s up, Earwax?”
“Double Helping, he’ll be going into yer gatehouse. That table he’s working on, the big one, it’s almost done. He says it is best assembled inside, otherwise it’ll be too big to carry.”
“That’s fine, Earwax.”
“Thought I’d say something. Seems only proper to announce when we go into yer Lordship’s gatehouse. You’ve been good to us, so it only seems right to stay on the level with you, Yergrace.”
“Thank you, Earwax. How are you doing this fine morning?”
“Crabby, Milord.”
“Sorry to hear that, Earwax. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I suppose. Just woke up in one of those moods. Everything is annoying today. Can’t say why. Might be ‘cause a storm is coming.”
As if in response, distant thunder rumbled far to the south, and Sundance’s ears pricked in that direction. He turned, and so did Earwax, and both listened to the far-off grumbled threats of the weather. Sundance, who considered himself to be somewhat wise about these sorts of things, figured that the storm probably drifted up from the Everfree, which was a fair distance away. A few hours by air, as the pegasus flew. They had some time before it hit, but when it did, it was likely to be a drencher.
“I has me a bad feeling, Milord...”
Inside of the infirmary, three canine faces greeted Sundance. Corduroy seemed to be filled with good cheer, and it showed. But Sundance barely spared her a glance. The pups… the pups were immaculate. In Twilight Velvet’s care, they were clean and presentable. In Corduroy’s care, they glistened. How much brushing had happened to bring out the natural gloss in their coats? The both of them appeared slick, almost wet even. Not a hair was out of place. Just inside the doorway, Sundance stood in awe.
“I think I like having pups around,” Corduroy said to Sundance before he had a chance to say anything. “There’s a lot of fun to be had with them, and then, when I am done, I can send them off with their mother. All of the fun, none of the work.”
Sundance went squinty whilst he considered how much work went into brushing them.
Perhaps that was fun… for Corduroy at least.
The nurse held her paw out and gestured in the pup’s direction as she said, “I wanted them to make a good impression when they met Holly. So tell me, Sundance… is this the new normal?”
“I… I… uh, I don’t follow,” he stammered in response as he tried to make sense of not just what was said, but the whole of the situation.
“You bring home strays, you leave them with me for a night of observation, and then they meet Holly in the morning.”
“Um…” Sundance concluded that this is what had happened so far. Last night, Hollyhock had gone to bed early, so he couldn’t talk with her. The pups ended up with Corduroy for the night, just as Tarantula had. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Runt and Bonk, and it occurred to him that Corduroy had pressed upon the two pups her methods, her means of acceptance.
A good dog shouldn’t be dirty, he’d once heard her say.
“I don’t know how it ended up here,” Corduroy said as she gestured, this time at the window. “But I found the Fluttershy I carved out of soapstone in that crate that bears her likeness. I left it at home, with my mother, Buttons. Somehow, it has found its way to me.”
Sure enough, there was a tiny soapstone pony on the window sill, and it bore a remarkable likeness to Fluttershy. Sundance could even see three tiny butterflies. Just like Fluttershy, its face was obscured by a curtain of wavy mane. It was a fantastic carving, and showcased just how much care and detail Corduroy put into her work. Quite taken with it, he moved closer to have a better look, and noticed the recognisable kind—if perhaps a bit nervous—smile.
“When I was a pup, for a time, I wanted to grow up to be Fluttershy,” Corduroy said in a voice husky from emotion. “I thought that, even if I couldn’t be accepted, I could still at least be kind, and not make the world worse. When you don’t have acceptance, it is easy to be angry. You can justify lashing out in anger. Well, I didn’t want to be angry. So, I chose to be like her.” She pointed with her extended paw-finger. “There’s no point in making the world worse just because you’re angry.”
“You taught the pups that, didn’t you?” asked Sundance.
“I did,” Corduroy was quick to say in return. “It became something of a lesson last night.”
What a lesson it was. Sundance looked over at the pups once more, who seemed content to be quiet. They sat on the bed together, side by side, and didn’t seem at all distressed. Runt seemed more than calm, he might have been a little sleepy still, while Bonk was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the most literal sense.
He was about to ask them if they liked it here, but the door opened behind him. As he stepped aside, he also turned about, and was immediately nervous when he saw Hollyhock. All of her little ones were gathered around her legs; Amber Dawn, Lemongrass, a devious-thievius owlcoon—and one little burro who seemed quite alright hiding beneath Hollyhock. There could be no doubting it, Tarantula was one of hers now.
“Two more,” Sundance said to Hollyhock before she had a chance to say anything.
She balked and stood protectively over the foals like a mother hen over her brood. “I don’t know a thing about raising pups. No, I—”
“You didn’t know a thing about burros, either.”
“That’s different,” Hollyhock replied while she herded her young closer together with her legs. “He’s tiny, and helpless, and needed help.”
“These two are pretty tiny—”
“Corduroy, don’t make jokes!” Hollyhock snapped.
“But they are tiny, by diamond dog standards. And they too, are helpless, and in need of help.” Corduroy brought her stern gaze to bear upon Hollyhock, who curled one foreleg around the shawl that hung from her neck.
“I have to keep my little ones safe.” Hollyhock was almost whining. “Those two are big and dangerous. Too big. Why, they have to be as tall as I am.”
“They’re little more than toddlers, by our standards,” Corduroy said to Hollyhock.
Sundance wasn’t sure if this was totally true, but he held his tongue on the issue. When he did speak, he tried another angle of approach—all he had to do was stick the landing somehow. “Holly… Holly… these are two fine pups. Good ones. Young and impressionable. They’re bound to be loyal to whomever raises them. Just look at how loyal Corduroy happens to be.”
He waited a moment to allow his words to sink in before he continued, “See those paws? Those little stubby paw-fingers? You know how helpful that owlcoon is with his little hands. Just imagine how useful these two will be. They’ll be eager to help you, because they’ll be loyal to you. And all you have to do is love them.”
Hollyhock’s dubious, fearful expression became one of shrewd cunning. Sundance saw the change as it happened, the transition from fear to—whatever it was that she happened to be feeling at the moment that caused the expression of shrewd cunning. Obviously, she felt something, and her sense of reason still functioned even in her half-awake, early-morning state of mind. This was a mare who weighed her options to see what she might get out of the situation.
He wasn’t too worried about Hollyhock exploiting them. Oh, she might make them work a bit, but he didn’t see that as a bad thing. He wanted the pups to appear helpful, for the sake of acceptance, and surely Corduroy would agree with his reasoning. Once Hollyhock warmed up to them, she would fret over them and baby them—just as she did anything else in her care.
The owlcoon was proof of that, as was Tarantula.
“Runt has had some head injuries.” Corduroy’s voice was low, level, and clinical. “He’ll need some special care. He was abused by his mother—”
“Why? Why would that happen?” Hollyhock’s words practically exploded. “Who would do such a thing? Why is the world like this?”
Sundance glanced over at Corduroy and saw a cunning equal to Hollyhock’s. His nurse knew what she was doing, for certain. Bonk and Runt were quiet, well-behaved, and watchful. Hollyhock’s maternal urges were now in play, and she struggled with her obvious need to mother-smother. She was breaking, it was only a matter of time.
“Bonk is his helper. His helpmate. If she can be trusted to help him, as young as she is, just think about how she might also help you.” Corduroy folded her long forearms over her narrow girth.
“They’re so big though—”
“Big enough to keep your little ones safe if trouble happens.” Corduroy’s voice grew even more clinical, and somewhat colder. “Big enough to pick up and carry them to safety.”
“Huh… there is that.” Hollyhock uncurled her foreleg from around her shawl and then began to rub her chin while the pegasus filly within said shawl gurgled and cooed. “Going to get cramped in the dome with those two.”
“Move into the bunkhouse, Holly. It’s yours. As our designated orphan wrangler, you get to stay there. You get to be in charge. Select your staff wisely.” Sundance saw his words land like hurled stones, and the last bit of Hollyhock’s resistance broke.
“Earwax is wonderful with the little ones.” Hollyhock’s hard eyes softened as she studied the two pups. “I can’t imagine what I’d do without her. She has that knack, you know.” The cautious mare approached the bed. “I didn’t mean to upset you, if I did. It’s just that, I’m very protective of my little ones, and you’re… you’re big. But I suppose that you can be my big little ones, if you’d like. Big babies are still babies, I reckon.”
Bonk disentangled herself from Runt, slid down off of the bed, and then stood there for Hollyhock’s inspection. The girl-pup was taller than Hollyhock, and she stood there smoothing out her dress so that she might look her best. Hollyhock looked up as she drew closer, and Bonk looked down. Sundance watched, waited, and allowed Hollyhock’s maternal nature to kick in.
“Are you gentle?” asked Hollyhock.
“I try,” replied Bonk. “Try very hard.”
“Trying is all we can do,” the cautious mother said to the pup. “Sometimes, when Amber plays with her little brother, she can get a little rough. She’s an earth pony. It takes a while for us earth ponies to learn how to control our strength. Mistakes happen, but I can be understanding.”
Bonk moved a little closer, but did so cautiously and with great care.
“You wear dresses”—Hollyhock inhaled—“I always wanted Amber to wear pretty, frilly dresses, but she fights me. She’s not much on girly. I would like to have a little girl that I could dress up in dresses… though there’s not many dresses to be found ‘round these parts.”
“We could make Runt wear dresses.” Bonk’s muzzle contorted with faint mischievousness and she leaned in a little closer. “He not complain. Much. He does as I say.”
“You mustn’t abuse his trust.” Hollyhock extended her neck and drew herself to her full height, but was still shorter than Bonk. “Money comes and goes. Stuff comes and goes. Lovers leave. Life changes. Trust is all we have in the world.”
Bonk’s head tilted off to one side as she listened.
“I am going to trust you,” Hollyhock said to Bonk. “I want you to look after Tarantula, if you can. He’s tiny, and he has trouble keeping up.”
“I can do that,” Bonk replied.
“I’m Hollyhock.”
“I’m Bonk, this is Runt.”
“Runt,” the boy-pup repeated in his typical fashion.
“Come closer, Runt. Let me have a look at you.”
A bit too eager, Runt slipped off the bed, lunged forwards, tripped over his own paws, and went face-down into a heap on the floor. But just as before, his tail wagged like a flag to let everyone know that he was fine, though he remained face down on the floor and made no effort to get up. He said something, but his words were obscured and unintelligible.
“Runt”—Corduroy’s voice was peak-nurse—“Runty boy, you have to pick yourself up from the floor before you try to say something. I told you this earlier, remember?”
Again, more words were muffled by the floor, and Runt’s tail wagged.
“The poor thing, he’s a bit slow…” Hollyhock moved closer, but then stepped back when Runt’s head lifted.
When he moved to stand up, Bonk went over to help him, and steadied him.
“Stand up, dum-dum.” Bonk went to work straightening out Runt’s tunic. “Always falling on face. Slow down. Don’t be a dum-dum. Your face get flatter, I think.”
“You shouldn’t call him a dum-dum.”
“But Runt is a dum-dum. You see.” Bonk tousled Runt’s ears and then shoved him closer to Hollyhock, who took a cautious step back.
“Are you alright, Runt? Did you hurt your face?” Hollyhock moved closer, but was a little fearful, a little hesitant as evidenced by the way she moved.
“Nose squish,” Runt replied whilst he rubbed his snoot with the back of his paw.
“Yes, your poor little nose did go squish.” Hollyhock drew in a deep breath, seemed to steel herself, and then moved in close enough to touch. Reaching up, she pushed his paw away with her hoof, and examined his face with a critical maternal squint. “No bloody nose, so that’s good. No sign of a fat lip. Amber… she had a fat lip, let me tell you. She fell down a shaft and got busted up pretty bad. You seem fine, but I don’t know enough to be sure. All those sharp teeth. I hope those don’t cut your lips when you fall down.”
“Runt fall down, hug ground.”
“Oh.” Ears pinned back, Hollyhock pulled her head away. “Affectionate, are you?”
Before Runt could respond, the door flew open and a breathless Kant Apfel burst into the infirmary. She panted—heavily—and her eyes were panicked. Even in her current frantic state, she was mindful of the little ones near the door, and didn’t trod upon them when she approached Sundance.
“Spider!” the fearful mare said to Sundance.
“In the shitter?” he replied.
“Baron Potty Mouth!” Corduroy cried.
“Giant spider! In the old kitchen cave! It tried to web Rusty Tap!”
“Excuse me.” Corduroy unfolded her long forearms from her rather slender girth. “Pardon me. Coming through. I have to go and collect my ingredients before they get damaged.” As she passed Sundance, she said to him, “Keep that up and I’ll wash your mouth out with soap, Baron Bedpan Mouth. Now step aside!”
“What’s with all the giant spiders all of a sudden?” asked Sundance as Corduroy made her exit.
“Milord,” Kant Apfel replied, “it’s spider season, and Cucumber isn’t here to keep them away. We’ll be overrun without him…”