Kestrel is no longer Drunk.
When Kestrel woke up the following morning, she wished that she hadn’t.
The first thing to greet her was the feeling of somepony smashing her head against the ground with a stone. Groaning, the outlaw rolled off of her sleeping mat, hooves clutching her temples, lips parted in a grimace. One of her wings felt tingly and numb, deprived of sensation after a night sleeping awkwardly on it, and her tongue was fuzzy and dry. When she barely cracked crusty eyelids apart, the sunlight of the late morning drove through her eye sockets with chisels of fire, leaving her whimpering and covering her face.
“Grrrmmmfff… shoulda drank more damn water last night…”
After a few minutes to keep her eyes shut and let the pounding in her head subside, and after those few minutes turned into half an hour, Kestrel finally scrounged up the energy to roll out from under her lean-to and stand up on shaky legs. It took her all of twenty seconds to manage to stand upright, and when she did, she yawned, arched her back, and flapped her wings to work some of the tired numbness out of them. Satisfied that she got the blood flowing to her limbs again, Kestrel slowly limped her way toward the wash bucket by the chuck wagon to splash some of the sleep and hangover out of her eyes.
The camp was dull and dead after a night of fervent drinking. The only ponies Kestrel saw up and active at this point were Miss Irons, Trixie, and Snapshot, who were busy making brunch for the hungover late-sleepers like Kestrel. When she swiveled her head around camp, she saw Roughshod still snoring away, back against a tree, and Silver Wings sprawled in the grass, mouth slightly agape and drooling onto the leaves. Kestrel shook her head and continued limping toward the lakeshore. It seemed the two of them didn’t manage to make it back to their bedrolls before they passed out last night.
“There she is,” Miss Irons called out as Kestrel walked past them. Her eyebrow raised as the gunslinger staggered toward the lake beyond the camp. “Sleep well, Kessie?”
“Weren’t so much sleepin’ as it were practicin’ for death,” Kestrel muttered back, flicking her tail as she passed. “Celestia, I wish I was dead right ‘bout now…”
Kestrel pushed aside the reeds near the lakeshore to get access to the water, and immediately dunked her muzzle into the cool waters and began to drink. It took her several gulps to slake her thirst, and only then did she raise her head back upright, water streaming off the end of her muzzle. Sure, it probably wasn’t the healthiest or safest water to drink, but it sure beat waiting for the others to boil more water for the camp. And when all was said and done, she certainly felt livelier.
Her eyes glided across the far shores of the lake, noting how still the water was until the ripples from her thirst began to disturb the mirror. A few ducks and a couple of geese floated on the surface, lounging under the shade of a tree, and to her left, the splash of a fish leaping out of the water to catch a dragonfly caught her attention. Bullfrogs croaked as the humid heat began to build with the coming of the afternoon, and all was peaceful around this little slice of the natural world, all but untouched by ponies.
Of course, the signs of equine activity were all to apparent if she just looked to the right slightly, where the mud was all torn up and dotted with hoofprints from Silvie’s slip and tumble last night. Kestrel could only shake her head and chuckle. She probably shouldn’t have left Silver be on her lonesome last night, but there wasn’t any harm done in it. Maybe when Silver was awake and coherent again she’d bust her chops over it.
Returning to the camp, Kestrel pulled over a stool and sat down next to Trixie, the smoke from the fire at least pushing away some of the humidity and drying out the air around it. Trixie merely looked Kestrel up and down before sniffing and shaking her head. “Your snoring kept Trixie awake almost all night.”
Kestrel blinked in surprise. “My snorin’? What about Roughshod?” She pointed her feathers at the stallion in question. “He’s loud enough to drown out a whole cavalry charge.”
“You would not believe what you sound like, then,” Trixie said. The magician cracked a couple of eggs in a pan and held it over the fire with her magic, her horn faintly sparkling all the while. “Just how much did you have to drink?”
“I weren’t keepin’ track,” Kestrel said, shrugging. “Plenty enough, I suppose.”
“Quite.”
After a moment, Kestrel turned to Snapshot and raised an eyebrow. “Did you even sleep last night, Snapshot? I can’t ever tell if you do.”
“For a time,” came Snapshot’s simple answer.
“‘For a time’, he says. What’s that’s supposed to mean?” When the stallion didn’t answer, Kestrel gestured vaguely in the direction of the half-emptied crates of whiskey and beer. “Did you even drink much last night?”
“I did,” Snapshot said with a curt nod. “Not as much as you.”
“I’d be surprised if anypony drank more than me other than Rough and Silvie,” Kestrel said. Her wingtips dug through her pockets and retrieved a cigarette and a match, and in short order she was adding her own smoke to the campfire. “Well, glad everypony had a good time, at least.”
“Some more than others,” Miss Irons observed.
“So long as everypony had their fun, then all’s well in the world.” Tumbleweed’s voice reaching them from across the camp drew their attention toward him, and soon the unicorn found a seat across from Kestrel and covered a yawn with his hoof. “I know I certainly had mine. It was a nice change of pace from the hassle we’ve been dealin’ with these past few weeks.”
“It’s good to let our hair down every once in a while,” Miss Irons agreed. “It keeps you young.”
Everypony shared a light chuckle at that. “Word of our elders, folks, right there,” Tumbleweed said. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cooking eggs, and hummed his pleasure. “And a good brunch to chase away any lingering hangovers. What more could a pony ask for?”
“A few things,” Kestrel said, crossing her forelegs and leaning forward. After a moment, she added, “Now it’s onto the next thing.”
“The convention.” Tumbleweed nodded. “We have a few days before we go meet with Starlight again, see what she’s dug up for us. I say today we take it easy, rest and recover, but then we need to start preparin’ for this next score. It ain’t gonna be easy with all the attention Starlight wants surroundin’ it. Best to be prepared.”
“We can use the time to practice and work out a plan,” Kestrel said. “We’re gonna need to be coordinated to make this work. This ain’t gonna be a bank robbery in no podunk town.”
“Exactly.” Tumbleweed pulled out a cigar and lit it off the fire as Kestrel flicked the butt of her cigarette into the flames. He took a few puffs on it, filling the air with smoke, and nodded toward Kestrel. “So, Kessie… what do you think we should focus on?”
The Gang has a few days to prepare for the next score. They can use this time to temporarily improve an ability by +1 during the job, to a maximum of 9.
1. Healthiness
2. Gunslinger
3. Muscle
4. Sweet Talker
5. Scholar
6. Instincts
7. Lady Luck
8. Let everypony prepare in their own way (NOTE: Some ponies may not prepare effectively for the heist.)