//------------------------------// // Chapter 59 // Story: Unshaken // by The 24th Pegasus //------------------------------// Downtown: 11 Votes The wagon came to a stop just outside of Hoofston, on a stretch of dusty road leading up to the main thoroughfare. Kestrel climbed out of the back and awkwardly tugged on the sleeves of her dress with her teeth. She felt trapped and tangled in the ungainly and heavy article of clothing, and her wings fidgeted underneath the fabric, subconsciously struggling to break free. A stallion she didn’t recognize but knew nonetheless hopped out of the back of the wagon after her. Trixie’s illusions had completely replaced his off-yellow coat with a dark purple, stripped away his mustache, and the hat he wore hid his horn. His work clothes made him look like just another earth pony rancher, and if Kestrel hadn’t seen Trixie put the illusion over him, she wouldn’t have given him a second glance as a wanted stallion. Her own illusion was something else as well. Trixie had taken her gray and brown and replaced it with a hearty, grassy green, and added a few inches onto her mane and turned it white. The dress she wore, she’d borrowed from Miss Irons, and even though it hid her tail well, Trixie had given it the same treatment as her mane just in case. Just like when she’d been disguised as Sienna, Kestrel had taken a look at herself in a mirror when all was said and done and found herself uncomfortable to know that the mare in the reflection was her. As the two outlaws walked around the side of the wagon, Trixie gave them a little nod. “Remember how they work,” she told the two of them. “If you try using your wings or magic, you’re going to break the illusions. They can’t adjust well on the fly.” “We’ll be alright,” Tumbleweed said. Then he looked up at Wanderer and Miss Irons, sitting in the seat of the wagon. “You got the list?” “We’ll have a fun time in town with our granddaughter,” Wanderer said, and Trixie groaned and leaned helplessly against her harness. “And yes, we have the list. Supplies and ammunition, and another wagon if we can find a small one. We’re going to need more than two to move supplies about if we get anymore gold, and after we left our other wagon back in Rock Ridge after the train robbery, we need it more than ever.” “I’ll have my ears open for anything else,” Miss Irons said. “Nopony is going to expect two elderly ponies to be with a gang of wanted outlaws, so they won’t be guarding their words. We’ll see if we find something interesting.” “Trixie will also work her charm on the humble ponies of Hoofston,” the showmare proclaimed. She brushed a hoof through her hair and scoffed. “The chance to meet Equestria’s greatest and most powerful unicorn should loosen some tongues!” Kestrel did her best to suppress a chuckle. “I’m sure they will.” She tried to touch the brim of a hat that wasn’t on her head with a wing trapped inside a dress and quietly growled at herself. “Any rate, see you three back in camp tonight.” “Take care and stay safe, you too,” Wanderer said, and after exchanging a sly look with Miss Irons, kicked his hoof against the hoofrest of the seat. “Come on, granddaughter! Let’s have a fun day in town!” Trixie groaned and dug her hooves into the ground, pushing off of the dirt road and setting the wagon down the road. “If Trixie suffers an unfortunate accident and drowns herself in the lake, know that she had no other choice…” “Don’t forget the beer and whiskey!” Tumbleweed called after them as Trixie began to pull away. “We’re havin’ a party tonight!” “Hopefully we find somethin’ more worth celebratin’ ‘bout,” Kestrel added. “Gettin’ outta Rock Ridge in one piece is somethin’, but comin’ back with somethin’ promisin’ would make it all the sweeter.” “I couldn’t agree more,” Tumbleweed said, and he turned and held his hoof out toward Kestrel. “Shall we be goin’ for a fine day in town, dear wife of mine?” Kestrel laughed and gently swatted his hoof away. “You shoulda been a travelin’ actor.” “Well, ain’t that what I am right now?” “That or a clown.” Kestrel set her sights on the outskirts of the city and Trixie’s disappearing wagon, then shook out her long illusory mane and started down the road. “Celestia, we shoulda had Trixie take us a little closer to downtown. I hate walkin’ long distance.” “Why would you?” Tumbleweed asked her, a teasing wink following. “You’re an earth pony, ‘Thistle’.” “Don’t make me hurt you, ‘Mulberry’.” Kestrel shook her head and started the long trot into town. “C’mon, let’s get movin’.” The two outlaws walked down the road and joined the flow of hoof and wagon traffic into Hoofston. Within half an hour, they found themselves venturing deeper and deeper into the city, as wooden buildings gave way to brick, stone, and mortar dwellings, shops, and offices. Ponies crowded increasingly busy streets, and wagons and carriages rumbled down the cobble roads, adding a discordant cacophony of noise that reminded Kestrel of her rough days living on Canterlot’s streets. With the buildings pressing close around her and ponies everywhere, Kestrel felt more than a little unnerved. This was a city—this was civilization. And Kestrel hated it just as much as she knew it hated her and her family of outlaws. Shortly enough, the two ponies found themselves in a square in downtown, with towering buildings and billboards all around them. A pair of police officers in blue uniforms stood by the corner, and Kestrel felt a little anxious sweat beading on her brow at the sight of them. Two police officers alone didn’t scare her, but in a city, it was never just two officers. If any trouble started, one would put a tin whistle to their lips, send out a shrill screech, and within minutes there’d be a dozen cops swarming the streets. But so long as their disguises held up, then she and Tumbleweed didn’t have anything to worry about. “What have we got here?” Tumbleweed asked, looking around. “See anythin’ interestin’, dear Thistle?” Kestrel tried to instinctively raise a wing to her brow to peer around, but the fabric of her dress thankfully restrained her wings and prevented her from breaking the illusion. Instead, baring her teeth ever so slightly, she raised a hoof above her eyes like an earth pony would and looked around. “There’s a bar, there’s a post office, a…” She squinted at a sign above a building thronged with people. “A museum on the conquest of the southwest?” “Looks like it’s busy, whatever it is,” Tumbleweed said. “Grand openin’ or somethin’.” His ears perked and turned at some noise, and he glanced at the front gates of a park at the other end of the square, where several ponies had gathered around somepony speaking on a soapbox. “Wonder what all that fuss is about.” “Ain’t sure; probably some pony complainin’ ‘bout buffalo reservations or somethin’.” Kestrel shook her head; ponies in the cities were so detached and distanced from the reality of the world beyond their brick walls and gas street lamps that they found the most trivial things to be upset about. It gave her some satisfaction to know that the ‘civilized’ ponies in their suits and courts and politicians wouldn’t last two days in the cutthroat frontier. Some part of her really wished ponies like her and her family could control the future of Equestria, but they were helpless against the government and the law and the politicians ruling them from far away. “What feels good?” Tumbleweed asked. “Might not have time to see everythin’ dependin’ on where we go.” 1.     The bar. Ain’t nothin’ classic like a bar. It ain’t a saloon with the rough characters we’re used to, but ponies from all walks of life’ll be here, more than what we’d see in frontier towns like Rock Ridge. 2.     The post office. We’ll find flyers, bulletins, and ponies there. We got some tipoffs from the post office in Rock Ridge about good scores; maybe we’ll find the same here. 3.     The museum. There’s a lotta ponies flockin’ to the museum. If it’s a grand openin’, that means there might be some important socialites from Hoofston here. That, and it’s about somethin’ we know plenty about; might be amusin’ to see what the city folk think the frontier’s like. 4.     The park. Wonder what all the commotion’s about?