The afternoon had the bluest of blue skies. It was the perfect compliment to the feeling of laziness that permeated the barony. Hardly anypony did hard labour; it was just too hot for such demanding endeavours. Sun-heated air shimmered above the rocks and dazzled any unwary eye that looked for a little too long. On a day such as this one, one could almost see the sunflowers and corn growing if one stared hard enough and long enough.
Argyle Ascot, an earth pony, seemed to be quite smitten with the place. He was clean, fastidious even, as neat and well-groomed as his vanity demanded. Eyes wide, he pranced from place to place, sometimes almost gamboling. From flower patch to flower patch, to sunflowers to corn, and he even went over to meet the cows and goats grazing to create the firebreak. Something about his happiness was infectious to Sundance, who suspected that it might be nice to see some green after living in the concrete jungle.
It occurred to Sundance that he and his barony had something unique to offer.
While he was already aware of this, Argyle's sheer joy truly drove the point home.
"Everything is so green here," Argyle remarked whilst he pronked this-away and that-away. The scarf around his neck flipple-flappled in the stiff breeze and he paused for a second to strike a handsome pose. "Green plants. Black soil. Big grey rocks of some kind. There's no dull haze to obscure the air and fade out the colours. It would be a shame for this to be lost to development. One of my campaign promises was to enforce clean air standards for Fillydelphia. As it currently is, there are no consequences for pollution right now. No incentives to be clean."
Sundance thought of the coal dust that befouled everything in Baltimare and found he did not miss it.
"Be mindful, Sundance… you have a rare treasure here. Do not be hasty in your rush to develop. Preserve as much of this as you can. There's only so much unspoilt land left in Equestria and every day the industrialists claim just a little bit more. Perhaps we shall have a long discussion sometime soon. Give me a chance to ply my trade as a city planner… you have this lovely blank canvas, I do declare."
An immaculately-clean Corduroy stood outside of the infirmary door with her forearms crossed over her girth. Her patchwork beanie appeared to be freshly laundered and was free of wrinkles. She looked down at Argyle, who in turn looked up at her, and the both of them studied one another. Much to Sundance's dismay, Argyle's jubilance had departed, and the earth pony now seemed quite cautious and reserved.
"Without intent for offense, this is the closest that I have ever been to a diamond dog," Argyle said to the stoic nurse who looked down upon him. "I must confess, I am terrified. Beyond that, I am also ashamed, because I should be better than this. Please, I beg your forgiveness while I give myself a good sorting out."
Corduroy's expression softened, her ears unpricked, and as she hunkered down to eye-level with Argyle, her tail gave a brief wag. Once she was down, she reached out, slowly and with great care, and then spent a moment adjusting Argyle's neckerchief until all the wrinkles were smoothed out. Argyle, for his own part, handled it rather well, or so Sundance believed. It was a good thing that Corduroy kept smelling salts around though, because for a few tense seconds, that seemed to be a likely outcome.
"I can smell your fear," Corduroy said, almost whispering. "What is it about me that scares you so?"
"I don't know," Argyle breathlessly replied. "I wish I knew. I would be rid of this detriment if I could. Such a business is made ensuring that my kind live in fear of your kind."
"I know," the nurse said, her tone reassuring and soothing.
"Were I but able, I would send this irrational fear away… but I seem to be unable to do so." A loud gulp was heard from Argyle, who now trembled while he stood, chilled by the frozen touch of fear. "You seem incredibly nice. Please, I beg of you… do not think less of me."
Without a thought for why he did so, Sundance took a step backwards.
"If I might ask, is there some way that I can get better?"
To which she replied, "That is some question to ask a nurse."
"I am in need of healing."
"Hmm. I am uncertain of how to diagnose this condition."
"My office has wronged your kind greatly," Argyle said, and when he spoke he dropped his gaze groundward. "Taxes are collected, but very little representation is given. I am aware of the problem… painfully aware of the problem, in fact. But when I bring it up at meetings and gatherings of the city council, the conversation dies a dreadful death by murderous silence. At this moment, right now, this very second, I am eaten up with guilt because I do very little to force some headway on the issue."
"If it really is forgiveness you're after, that's not something I can help you with," was her now-pained response. "I can only speak for me, myself, and I cannot be the voice for all my kind. No more so than you are the voice for all of yours."
"Then it is as I feared." Sighing, Argyle shook his head, which he raised just a little.
"You made an effort, though," she said to him, her tone warm and kind. "Which is more than most do. "Just… be brave and stick to it. Find some resolve. Refuse to let the issue drop."
"If only it were so easy." Somehow, Argyle found the courage to return his gaze to meet Corduroy's. "It has come to my attention only recently that if I am to fix the city, I must fix all of the city, or else it will only topple down again. Fillydelphia is a city of ponies, diamond dogs, griffons, dragons, and even minotaurs."
"But the elected officials care only about the ponies."
"Sadly, yes. That is, in fact, the case."
Reaching out, Corduroy placed one paw beneath Argyle's chin and cradled his head within it. Then, after a deep breath, "The only advice I have to offer is to be brave and steadfast."
"Were it so easy," he replied, his ears drooping. "I know that, ultimately, I am the one responsible for fixing this mess. Because I am the one in charge. But the task is so large… and I am but a little pony of the least magical variety. My one trick is that I am handsome enough that other ponies want to look at me and pay attention to some of what I have to say."
"The only advice that I can give you is that you and Sundance have a lot that you could learn from one another." Her voice was stern and gentle, and very much that of a nurse offering her patient some much-needed guidance. "Sundance is wise and he listens. He doesn't say much, except for when he does. When he does say something, it usually needs to be said. He is wise in the same way that you are charismatic. Seek out his counsel." Then, she pulled her paw away from beneath Argyle's chin and patted him on top of his head.
Sundance, for his own part, practically beamed from within, though he showed no outward signs.
"Of course, Sundance is only getting started at being wise." Standing up straight, Corduroy then scratched just behind her right ear absentmindedly. "I'm pretty sure that's how he'll be remembered, though I could be wrong. He might end up as Sundance, the Owlbear Slayer, or Sundance, Manticore Scratching Post. Given the right situation, his wisdom goes right out the window."
With a quick roll of his eyes, Sundance scowled—but maintained his silence.
After all, she wasn't entirely wrong.
"Owlbears?" Argyle blinked. "How dreadful. You mean… those are real... they exist?"
This time, it was Corduroy's turn to roll her eyes, and so she did, with remarkable deadpanitity.
Argyle, quick to recover himself, harrumphed away his ignorance and then asked, "We came to see Sparrowhawk. Might we?"
"No," was Corduroy's firm reply. "She's sound asleep. Which is good. She's finally getting good sleep. Maybe later."
"Oh." If he was let down, Argyle showed no outward sign of it. "Well, let the poor dear sleep then. I'll not disturb her for the sake of my own comfort. But when she does wake, I would very much like to see her. I have an apology to make."
"I'll send someone to fetch you," Corduroy said to Argyle. "It was nice meeting you."
"It was nice meeting you as well," he replied with a bow of his head.
The southern view from the top of the gatehouse was truly spectacular. Sundance stood in the shade of the belltower. He didn't focus on any particular thing, but allowed his eyes to wander, taking in every detail that stood out for him. Beside him, Argyle sat upon a somewhat crude wooden bench made by Double Helping and placed atop the gatehouse just for this very purpose. Far off in the distance, poofy white clouds zigzagged unnaturally, tugged upon by feral winds and errant magical currents.
"You have a remarkable nurse, Sundance."
"She's the best," he agreed.
"Perhaps in time, I will find the testicular fortitude needed to shake this fear."
"I had my own fears," Sundance confessed in a low voice. "Perhaps a part of me still does. I was raised on a steady diet of movies and books that portrayed diamond dogs as villains. Not going to lie, it was rough trying to shake all that."
"I say, I would imagine so." A soft sigh floated out of Argyle's flared nostrils. "We earth ponies are stubborn, steadfast creatures. Sometimes I wonder if that works against us. We hold tight to the things that should perhaps be best let go. Does it make it harder to let go of my preconceived notions? I don't know. Dare I even ask?"
Thoughtful as ever, Sundance considered these words for a time, then said, "I think it's a pony problem, and not specifically an earth pony problem. Though perhaps tribe might play some small role." A thought occurred to him, and in a rare moment of recklessness, he gave voice to it without much consideration as to what was being said. "Though, I have noticed with the earth ponies here that the whole lot of them think and act as one. If just a few accept something, then they all seem to accept something. They were a bit skittish of Corduroy when she first arrived. Others, too."
"That is, in fact, a thing we do. Earth pony consensus. We have a powerful herd-think that runs through our minds. It can be good for us, but also absolutely terrible for our own better interests. If just one of us digs in our hooves and refuses to budge, it can and will cause others to do the same."
This gave Sundance something to think about, and so he did.
"Just one earth pony not liking something can cause others to feel the same way. A quirk of our mindset, I reckon. I've had it happen with Fudge and I. Initially, I'll like something, but she'll dislike it, and then for reasons I cannot fully explain, I grow to dislike it too, even though I can't explain why. It is utterly and completely irrational, and I hate it. Psychologists suggest that we have this consensus to keep us safe from danger, so that we think and act as one, as one unified body."
At a loss for words, Sundance had nothing he could say; nothing that he could contribute.
"Princess Cadance has gained some notoriety after she suggested that large cities might be bad for ponies because of our herd behaviour. She was very brave saying what she did, and I admire her courage. Funny thing, courage. I seem to lack it. My vanity, which is as frail and delicate as a hothouse flower, has a partner, another weakness that does me in, and that is that I spook easily. When the house was on fire, I very nearly had to be carried out."
"When I get scared, I get dumb," Sundance said to Argyle. "I'm not just any moron, I'm a magical moron. There's papers to prove it. Supposedly, I'm immune to the effects of fear, but I don't know. I still feel it, I guess. A little. For a short time. But then I don't. And I change. And what I change into scares me a bit. Scares? When my smarts come back, I feel anxious about what I become when intelligence goes south like a flock of birds."
"I am well-educated, but that is not the same as being intelligent," Argyle replied. "Fudge, she's intelligent. A certified genius. She has papers and everything. It bothers me that she almost didn't make it into college due to financial concerns. But she and her sister scrimped and saved, while also relying upon some help from their parents. Ponies like Fudge should be given higher education free-of-charge for Equestria's benefit."
Sundance offered up a thoughtful nod.
"Corduroy says you are wise," Argyle continued. "I am charismatic. Fudge is smart. Cherry is well-organised, smart, and she's the planner. Were we to work together, we could achieve great things. As I have stated, I want us to be neighbors. To be neighborly with one another. I'm a city planner by trade, so I could be an asset to you, Sundance. Of course, I wouldn't charge you for my services. That would be uncouth."
He thought about mentioning his lack of college education, but then Sundance chose silence.
"There's no way I could send ponies to this place as it is right now." Argyle glanced about, his ears splayed sideways, and after a few seconds of examination, he shook his head from side to side. "Culture shock. No electricity. No running water. No sanitation. This is bare existence. We have other concerns as well, such as the fact that I don't want to send troublemakers out this way. I don't want to pass my problem-ponies onto you and make them your headache."
"Well, that is kind of you," Sundance said with a wry smile.
"We have to trust one another." Argyle's tone was one of severe solemnity. "You have to trust me that I don't take advantage of you. I'm a slick talker and a wheeler-dealer. But I am fair. Good for business. I can be counted on to be good for business. It's how I was raised."
Sundance nodded.
"Once this place has a few modern amenities, we can work on an exchange program. My own situation is irrelevant for our long-term plans. I will either be mayor or I will be the Regional Governor. Either way, you and I will be working together. In the span of a year, I want to see what sort of foundation we can lay. I can use city funds for townsteading and homesteading grants. There's a lot to work to be done, Sundance, and it is officially time to dispense with the pleasantries."
"I'm fine with hard work," was Sundance's response.
"Good. Good. Within the next three days, I want us to have a spot picked out for a planned settlement. No sense wasting time. Let nopony accuse us of dragging our hooves."
"I don't know when we'll get electrification and sanitation," Sundance said, "but I know of a great place for a settlement. An ideal place. A stretch of land between two rivers. Easy to irrigate. A long time ago, it used to be farmland."
"Sounds perfect."
"There's also the train depot far down south. It's ready to become a town. A tiny town."
"Another good place to start."
"There's also a hospital complex in the planning stages. It's hit a few snags. But I think we can help each other with that. So we have options for townsites. I could show you the proposal papers for the hospital complex, if you'd like."
Argyle nodded and said, "I would very much like to see those. Perhaps I could add my own special touch to them."
A tremendous metaphorical weight was lifted from Sundance's back, and he sighed with relief. Perhaps the plans for the hospital could be sorted out by Argyle. Hopeful and burning with sunny optimism, Sundance couldn't wait to get started. While he himself had no idea what to do or how to move forward, others did—which meant that he had to trust them. As Twilight had told him, he had to make friends.
And Argyle was a friend already.