It was another beautiful scorcher of a day in the Sunfire Barony. Though the dawn was not even an hour ago, the temperature had risen to sweaty-pony levels, which was an especially uncomfortable contrast after a chilly night. The humidity left the air sticky, almost soupy, and the foul reek of sulphur had horrendous potency which made it impossible to ignore. In the back of Sundance's mind, he noticed the eggy funk, but he spared little thought for it. After living with it for so long, it was just something that was there—even on days when it smelled so terrible that it couldn't be ignored.
As he drew closer to the showers behind the infirmary, he heard the ear-pricking sound of crying. Not a pony crying; his sharp ears could tell the difference. This was whimpering, and it was distinctly canine. Doubling his pace, he hurried along, worried about the cause and the source of this upset. Somedoggy was in the midst of a rotten morning, but maybe something could be done to make things better.
Coming around the corner, he spotted Runt, who whimpered and howled with distress. Surrounded by his fellow orphans, the poor pup was in the middle of a major meltdown. Hollyhock attempted to quiet the others, while it was Gerard that tried to calm poor Runt, but with little success. The pup sat in the shady grass near the infirmary wall and after sucking in a lungful of air, he caught his second wind.
"Rough morning?" asked Sundance.
It was Gerard who answered: "Rough night, too. Runt had nightmares all night."
"Aw, poor little guy."
"And then he was very upset about his face being dirty. He said something about being a bad dog and then this happened."
"Runt, are you having a bad day?" Sundance, empathetic as always, moved closer to comfort the crying pup.
Rather than respond, Runt redoubled his efforts, opened his mouth wide enough to reveal his jagged molars, and bayed. It was a forlorn sound, an awful sound, and almost every ear in the barony pricked as the heartbreaking howl echoed through the box canyon. What made it so much worse was that Runt's face was snotty now, messier, and Sundance knew that being in such a state made the tormented pup feel even worse.
Sundance wanted to hold the miserable creature, but Gerard seemed to have it under control. It occurred to Sundance just how patient and gentle the griffon was. How calm he was. Gerard was Hollyhock's helper, a role that he was well-suited for. Ponies in general associated grumpiness with griffons, and for good reason. Most griffons were a bit on the grumpy side of the emotional spectrum. But Gerard showed remarkable gentleness and forbearance by the standards of any species.
"The showers are full," Amber Dawn said to Sundance, her eyes wide and her ears tall.
"And the potties, too," her younger brother, Lemongrass, added.
"Yeah, that cabbage and apple stew has a way of working through you," Sundance remarked, and he tried not to think too much about the fact that he'd come to take care of his own business. "I think we need more facilities. Perhaps an expansion is in order."
"The bunkhouse sounded like a brass band practice last night and I—"
Hollyhock shouted, "Pluck, don't say that!"
"—couldn't get any sleep at all. Silent Thunder's thunder wasn't very silent."
"It wasn't," Hollyhock agreed, and then with a shake of her head, she came to her senses. "Pluck, don't say things like that. Good manners!"
"It's hard to have good manners in a circus!"
"Pluck, if you don't stop your sass, so help me! Stop that, or else!"
"Or else what? More brass band practice tonight, Miss Trombone?"
An eyeroll and a snort was the only meaningful response that Hollyhock could spare. Meanwhile, some of Runt's sobs had subsided a bit, and he whimpered while Gerard patted him on the back. Sundance took note of Hollyhock's patience—no doubt worn thin—but was glad to note that it held steadfast. There was a sense of family here. Or perhaps Sundance was imagining things. At least, he hoped that there was a sense of family here. There seemed to be some affectionate antagonism between Pluck and Hollyhock. At least, Sundance hoped it was affectionate.
Then, as these things tend to go, Runt quieted suddenly, with only a few sniffles to clear his snotty nose.
For a moment, Sundance forgot himself. River Raider had new wings and the still-shiny skin glistened in the bright sunlight. He was so happy to see that she was well that he suffered a lapse in his self restraint, and immediately began pronking about as if he were some school-age colt. Both River Raider and Megara watched him, each with dulled, deadpan expressions, and it was obvious that they did not share in his exuberant, excessive enthusiasm.
But that didn't matter; he had himself enough happiness for all three of them.
Bouncing and boinking about, gamboling to and fro, he was quite unlike his usual self. His state of sincere joy was such that he simply could not hold still, nor restrain himself. All of his pressing concerns, all of his worries, his fears, his doubts, the many crushing existential crises all parted like clouds before the sun. Left weightless and buoyant, he did the only thing a pony could do in his situation; he pronked.
When pronking wasn't enough, he flapped to keep himself airborne for just a few precious seconds more. It wasn't so much about flying, as one might think, but pronking. Coming down was just as important as going up, if not more so. For one's legs to truly act like springs, one had to 'get some air' as some might say in the common parlance. And there were no creatures quite so like the pegasus ponies when it came to 'getting some air'. Their upward and downward trajectories were truly magnificent to behold, and Sundance was no exception.
"Is he like this all the time?" asked Megara, who cast a sidelong glance at the dour nocturnal pegasus beside her.
"He is a creature of simple and disgusting goodness," was River Raider's reply.
"I almost don't want to kick the crap out of him," Megara said, her face stern and thoughtful. "It'd be like smashing a stained glass window. Which I've done. Hoo-wee, Octavia can yell. And swear. And it's not at all like regular swearing, but posh swearing. She's an earth pony though, and she has the endurance to swear for hours."
Nostrils crinkled, River Raider snorted with contempt. "Look… I don't want to be here. Can we just get this over with?"
"I need you, Friendo, so I know when I've reached Sunny Boy's breaking point."
"We're not friends," River Raider retorted with a shake of her shaggy, fierce head.
"Oh, but we are." Megara, teeth bared, leaned in close enough to thoroughly violate River Raider's equinal space. "We're hunting partners. That involves trust. Trust makes us friends. And we're going to try and make Sunny Boy into something that resembles a warrior. That's a friendship project… Friendo."
"Get fronked." Her hackles bristling, River Raider bared her own scarily-impressive teeth in a less than friendly way.
"Oh, somepony is grumpy!"
"Patronise me and I swear to the Night Lady, I will eat your liver!"
Mid-pronk, Sundance turned his attention to the tension he sensed between the two incredibly dangerous females. Distracted as he was, he didn't quite stick his landing, and very nearly pitched forward onto his face. River Raider was not a friendly creature; not even a little. Megara on the other hoof, was a friendly creature, and was therefore an annoyance. It made him self-aware, and he worried how much he annoyed River Raider—who was something of a motormouth. Which Megara was as well.
While most stallions wanted to watch two mares have a tussle, Sundance did not want to see these two titans have a go at one another. The barony might not survive such a scuffle, if movies and books were any indicator of the carnage and mayhem brought about by such an event. These were creatures of legendary toughness and ferocity. Still, something about the prospect of mayhem was somewhat arousing.
Suddenly, River Raider's stern gaze was upon him, and Sundance immediately wanted to melt into the ground.
"Ready to put on a show?" Megara asked Sundance.
After blinking once, Sundance had himself a good look around. There was a surprising number of ponies and other creatures gathered about. Work seemed to be put on hold. The old timers were getting themselves comfortable and sitting in the grass. Some had eager faces. With a turn of his head, he surveyed the situation and determined that they had gathered to watch him get his hindquarters whompled.
He looked down at the ground, which was soft and somewhat spongy. There were no stones to be seen; the soft grass and earth was a mercy. Corduroy seemed quite distressed, and Sundance wondered who was watching Sparrowhawk. Surely somepony was keeping her company, but still, he worried. River Raider appeared to be quite uncomfortable, and while he very much wanted to comfort her, he knew better than to do so. She was peeved—obviously—and there was no point in making it somehow worse.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Megara's tone was no longer friendly, but was now solemn. Stern. Stony. "If you back out now, I'll not think any less of you. This is a hard path, and few can walk it. If we start down this path together, and you quit, I will think less of you. Backing out now is reasonable. Quitting later after you've started is unforgivable. Consider your actions with great care, Sundance. Make the right choice. Do the right thing."
Looking about, Sundance noticed that Argyle, his wives, and his daughter sat on a blanket together some distance away. It was a quiet act of bravery, Sundance knew. If Argyle was scared of Corduroy, he must be terrified of River Raider and Megara. Yet, here he was. Why he was here was unknown, be it silent support or maybe to just watch what was sure to be a show.
It was better to not start at all than quit.
This gave him pause, and Sundance, who was pronking about willy-nilly mere moments ago, gave himself over to a bit of quiet contemplation. There was no hurry, no frantic need to rush. Sundance-of-the-city was always in a hurry. Baron Sundance had plenty of free time. Ears splayed, he had himself a good look around him, taking time to meet different eyes. While he saw some amusement, he also took notice of some worry.
"Things will be intimate between us," Megara said, her voice low. "We're going to grapple. Touch one another. If you hold back even in the slightest, if you shy away, I will hurt you. If you don't come at me with everything you have, I will hurt you. Before all of this is done, we will know each other like lovers… lovers that hurt each other."
Thoroughly disgusted, River Raider cleared her throat and gagged.
As for Sundance however, the very idea of grappling with Megara made him feel that the sun was entirely too warm and that he needed to find a shady spot forthwith. It was a naughty thought, and there was some guilt lurking beneath the not-so placid waters of his mind. He was a pony; while most ponies might be scared, or at least wary of Megara, he found that there was a certain sort of scary attraction to her. The very prospect of being assaulted by her filled him with giddy foalish glee—but the thought that River Raider was aware of the contents of his brain sobered him rapidly.
In fact, River Raider was looking right at him in a most peculiar way.
When her head bobbed, that one little barely perceivable nod almost sent him running with his tail tucked between his legs. There was a lot to sort out when it came to females, but that would have to wait until later. If there was a later. Megara was waiting patiently for a response, and so too it seemed, was everypony else. How long had he been silent? He'd stood in one spot for a while now, it was probably a good idea to say something.
"I'm ready," he said, uncertain if he were actually so.
Oh, he was committed, and he would see this through…
But was he ready?
Doubtful.
"You're not ready," River Raider said to him. "Nothing in your miserable life could possibly prepare you for what's about to happen. Prepare for pain."
"Your encouragement is both welcome and appreciated," he replied.
"Bah… hurry up, so we can get to the funeral," she returned.
"Oh, it couldn't possibly be that bad." Doubtful, Sundance took a second or three to consider his own words. "I've had some very exciting landings. Not crashes, mind you. But very exciting landings. Whatever Meg dishes out, I can take it."
To which River Raider replied, "You're an idiot."
Where River Raider was all dark clouds with the potential for thunder, Sundance was sunshine and warmth. She was in a bad mood, and he knew why. Being in a crowd had to be hard on her. Her mind was probably bursting at the seams. She was here because she wanted to be here; that had to be the reason. Nothing else could possibly make the cranky bat-winged mare budge if she didn't feel like it. Warm affection flooded through him, and he was thankful for his dour, gloomy friend.
"Alright… alright… Megara, do your worst. Let's get this over with. I am ready to begin…"