The desert sands had not yet begun to shimmer. What promised to be a spectacular dawn stained the skies a multitude of purple, pink, and gold hues. Pink cactus blossoms seemed especially vivid in the pale light cast by the encroaching dawn. Swirling eddies of dust and grit cavorted around fence posts and caused the greenery to sway, a dance to greet the dawn. For Sundance, the desert was beautiful, but it was not home, and he couldn't imagine taking up residence here.
Sundance stood upon the runway, strapped in and ready to go. Behind him, the sky truck waited for its precious cargo, and it had been made a bit more comfortable for the long trip. A steamer trunk took up most of the rear, and there wasn't a lot of room left for the kids, but they would have to manage somehow. This would be a long haul, but he was ready for it, he longed to be in the middle of the great wide nothingness that was the sky. He knew the flight would clear his head.
As for the foursome, they said their goodbyes. Not just to houseparents, but to their friends. Quite a sizeable crowd had formed near the runway, some of them still sleepy and bleary eyed. Some were teary, others happy, and Sundance suspected that more than a few wanted to come with. But that wasn't possible. Eager to go, he shuffled about, his tack jangling with every step. There were hugs, and goodbyes, and big hugs goodbye, and these were things that could not be rushed.
They were leaving it all behind. Sundance felt awful for them, but these relationships were always doomed to be temporary. There was no choice but to make friends, for such was the nature of the program, but these friendships were like ice cream on a hot summer day. Sundance wondered what Twilight might think of all of this, and he made a mental note to ask her opinion when he saw her next. Which might be soon, because they had a scheduled stop in Ponyville. While he wanted to be home, the return trip would take longer. Plus, the little ones would need to go potty, and eat, and not everypony was cut out to be an endurance flier. Or an endurance passenger, as the case may be. Plus, there was darkness to worry about.
Eyes pointed homewards, Sundance awaited takeoff.
A thin red line races towards Ponyville, unerring, straight, and true…
It was late afternoon, or perhaps almost evening. Sweaty, disheveled, and hot, Sundance had battled a downright dreadful headwind for most of the trip northward to Ponyville. He'd maintained speed, but at quite a cost to himself. Now he was dehydrated, hungry, and on the verge of complete exhaustion. But, he and the kids had made it to civilisation, which was the best that he could hope for. Equestria was dangerous, the wilds even more so, and he steadfastly refused to land in an unknown place that might pose a risk.
The ponies of Ponyville watched him, some with smiles, others with unabashed inquisitiveness. Sundance didn't mind. His landing? Perfect. Why, he barely even jostled his precious cargo. But now his knees wobbled beneath him and threatened to betray him if he didn't find food soon. And a restroom. Or even an outhouse, he was no longer picky. A bush would do if necessary, he didn't mind at all. He cast his observant gaze to and fro, unsure of what he would find, and after he looked this way, and that way, and then over there, followed by that-a-way, he saw a wooden sign with a steaming bowl. From the looks of it, he found a restaurant, but what sort was unknown. Perhaps a soup place.
"I gotta potty," Flax said.
"I know," Sundance replied.
"Potty egermency," she said just to make her needs clear.
"One second—"
"No, one second, no," the filly insisted. "Now."
"Alright, alright, hold on. Gerard, We're going into that place with the wooden bowl on the sign. Take Flax in there and get her to the potty. I'll park the truck. Pluck, Thunder, you go with. Stick together. I'll be right inside in just a few minutes."
"Right… so I'm in charge—"
"Favouritism!" Pluck shouted.
"Just get inside, you goons," Sundance said to his wards.
"Goons?" Pluck's voice had a note of annoyance. "If my teeth weren't floating, I'd have a snappy comeback—"
"Yeah, but with your teeth floating, all you have are soggy comebacks."
"Oh, get stuffed, Captain Barf Buzzard!"
"When we eat, I plan to do just that."
"Potty!"
"Right."
At first, Sundance thought that he'd walked into a bar. There was a long marble-topped wooden counter that stretched for almost the full length of the establishment, and there was a small kitchen visible in the rear. Paper lanterns hung over the counter and watercolour paintings were hung in bamboo frames. He saw teapots of all shapes and sizes sitting on a shelf, and a peculiar collection of teacups. But the most peculiar thing to be found in the room was the unicorn behind the counter, whose curved horn was unique to say the very least.
Tall, thin, almost delicate, the stallion was truly striking to behold.
After a quick look around, Sundance realised that he was alone in here; there were no other customers. Eyes ahead, he strolled up to the bar. He did not mosey, nor did he saunter, no… he strolled. It felt good to stretch his legs after keeping them tucked against his body for so many hours. Then, he paused, looked at the curved-horn unicorn, and then craned his head to look at the restroom door in the very back.
"Hello, and welcome to Hot Pot's Noodle Bar. I am Hot Pot."
"My name is Sundance, and I just flew into Ponyville. Boy are my wings tired."
The stallion behind the bar snickered for a short time, then said, "It is nice to have evening customers. Ponies come for lunch, but not dinner. What brings you to Ponyville?"
"A stopover on the way home." Sundance eyed the restroom door once more.
"Ah, very good. Today, we have buckwheat noodles and oat noodles. There are over forty different sauces and broths. I am honoured to have you as a guest, Lord Sundance."
A quick turn of his head allowed Sundance's eyes to focus on the curious curved-horn unicorn, who was a pleasing shade of faint blue. "You know who I am?"
"Princess Twilight sent out a flier with your picture. She'll be paying for your meal and your stay in Ponyville."
"That's… very generous."
Much to Sundance's relief, the restroom door opened and one by one, his wards filed out, each of them with damp, freshly-washed faces. Yes, putting Gerard in charge was the right move. Flax's mane was still pretty poofy and if any efforts were made to tame it, then those efforts came to a horrible end. Gerard's talons clicked against the wooden floorboards, while Pluck's hooves thump-thumped. Curiously, Silent Thunder made hardly any sound at all, and Flax trotted with a light tap-tap.
"If you'll excuse me," Sundance said to Hot Pot, "I'll be right back."
With the wooden stool comfortably beneath him, Sundance leaned up against the cool marble of the bar. A hooligan headache thudded and thwomped against the inside of his skull, and he was in sore need of a cure, lest he become an irritable pony. Gerard had his face hidden behind a menu, while Pluck checked out a humongous folding paper and bamboo fan. Sitting on a stool, Silent Thunder's head barely rose above the counter, and as for Flax, she sat on the counter itself. She kept a wary eye on the stranger and was well-behaved—at least for now.
"Tea," Sundance said to Hot Pot. "Something potent. Something strong."
Sitting beside Sundance, Silent Thunder perked up, his ears pricked as he bounced up and down, and he anxiously tapped his right front hoof against the counter while nodding. It only took Sundance a moment to figure out what the mute colt wanted, but the poor little guy couldn't ask. So of course, Sundance did it for him.
"He'll have what I'm having. Though maybe not quite as strong."
"I want something cold," Flax said in a bashful whisper.
"Me too," Pluck added.
"We have lemonade," Hot Pot said with a smile. "And we have seltzer. Which can be flavoured."
"Cherry seltzer?" asked Pluck.
"A fine choice for refreshment," Hot Pot replied.
With both of his forelegs resting upon the counter, and his chin just a few scant inches above them, Pluck flashed a broad smile. "Flax'll have cherry too. She likes cherry."
"Num-num in my tum-tum." As the donkey filly said these words, she patted her stomach with both of her tiny front hooves. "Big filly me is getting my own glass and I don't hafta share."
Gerard lowered his menu enough to peer over the top of it and said, "Lemonade for me, thanks."
"Before I forget"—there was a pause as Hot Pot drew himself up to his full height—" we have special broths for discerning customers. We have marrow broth, but it isn't listed on the menu. Quite a few griffons pass through Ponyville… and some even live here."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to be trouble—"
Oh, 'tis no trouble at all. I cook up tremendous batches of broth and then freeze them in pucks. The work is already done. I smoke the marrow bones first and then they simmer for hours. The end result is quite exquisite."
"That sounds amazing." Talons trembling, the young griffon folded up his menu and then put it down in front of him. "Well, I know what I'm having. Marrow broth with buckwheat noodles, please."
A soft moan escaped from Silent Thunder, a strained sound from the back of his throat. He pounded on the counter with his hooves, then pointed to his eyes, and after he did that he then pointed in the general direction of the menu, which Gerard had closed. Without saying a word, the young colt made it abundantly clear what he wanted and needed. Never one to let a moment pass, Pluck too mimicked all of Silent Thunder's actions, until Gerard sighed in defeat and made right the situation. The menu was picked up, opened, and held in front of Pluck and Silent Thunder.
"This is why literacy is so important," Gerard remarked in an off-talon way. "So you can read menus and not look foolish."
A bit too short, Silent Thunder stood up on his stool, planted his front hooves against the edge of the counter, and then with an exaggerated studious expression of interest, he began to read the menu in the most dramatic manner possible. Which, as it turned out, was quite a production. Tiny eyebrows raised and lowered. His rubbery face contorted into a near-impossible number of expressions, and did so with remarkable fluidity. Then, he leaned in quite close to Pluck, and he began to mimic everything that the earth pony colt did, including the prolonged huff of annoyed disgust.
Sundance began to miss the brother that he never had.
"You should be an actor," Pluck said to Silent Thunder. "You could revive silent movies."
In audible silence, Silent Thunder mimicked Pluck's mouth movements and pretended to say the same words, but did so with far more flamboyant flare. It was theatrical, dramatic, and fun to watch. The voiceless orator put on quite a show and from behind the counter, Hot Pot began to chuckle. Sundance, for his own part, laughed as well, but as he did so, he could not help but think of just how normal these kids were after enduring so much.
Perhaps it was hardship that made them special.
The cool marble left shivery kisses upon Sundance's forelegs and he could not help but think of how special this moment was. Perhaps he'd taken his life in civilisation for granted. He heard the soft hum of some unseen refrigeration unit, and the faint rustling of feathers just beside him as Silent Thunder continued his unabated mockery and mimicry of Pluck's every action. The future held more than a little promise. These four would grow and become extraordinary. As Sundance mused upon this thought, he had himself some vague sense of understanding about Princess Celestia and her school for unicorns.
The future was what one made of it—at least to some degree.
"Alright," Sundance said to his wards, "what are we having for supper?"