//------------------------------// // An Uncasual Stroll // Story: Harmony's Thieves // by 4428Gamer //------------------------------// Applebloom’s POV Dirt Path ... The way to Sweet Apple Acres felt longer now that I wasn’t a pony. I had already expected this since I wasn't used to walking like this yet but it had already been ten minutes. The walking stick that Joe had cut down for me was pecking at the dirt less and less now. It was nice that I didn't have to rely on it and had gotten more used to two legs but I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet. I ended up keeping the stick with me though. My, what Joe called them, fingers stayed wrapped around it just in case I teetered one way or the other. As we walked on, Joe stated that we both had questions we wanted to ask. He was right too. We didn’t ask at the school since we had so many that we didn’t know where to start. So he suggested we play a question game where we took turns asking. With the game, I found out that he was born in one place called ‘Germany’ but raised in ‘America’. I knew a town called Germaney but Joe insisted it wasn’t the same. Then he asked me what Germaney was like. I asked about a few other things like what his brothers and family were like. And, unlike how he was back at the school, he seemed more than willing to talk about his family; the Frei family. Then, at some point, his questions turned into asking what Equestria was like. A lot of it was pretty simple stuff though. Who is Princess Celestia? What’s the capital like? Are ponies the only creatures that live here? Weird, simple stuff. I kept my questions about family but eventually I kept getting more curious. So I started asking about where he was from. “This America place,” I started my next question. “Does it only got humans there? Or does it have ponies too?” Joe mulled it over for a second. “To clarify, I’m going to assume that you mean Earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasus ponies.” I gave a low huff. Every now and again he was obviously trying to avoid making a question by mistake. It didn’t take much to realize he was taking this ‘question game’ a little too serious. “Then yes,” he said. “America, and also Germany, only has humans. We prefer the word ‘people’ though.” “People?” I blinked. “Is that, like, a kind of human?” “I believe it’s my turn to ask a question,” he pointed out. I stuck my tongue out at him. “Out of the three you mentioned, you say you’re an Earth Pony. What’s an Earth Pony known for?” Joe asked. When I was done making fun of him I told him straight. “Earth Ponies don’t got wings err magic. We’re more cut out fer doin’ heavy liftin’. Granny tells us we got a better green hoof too but Ah think that’s just ‘cause we’re Apples.” “...I kind of want to test that, actually,” he told me. “What d’ya mean test it—shoot!” I cut myself off. “A-Ah didn’t mean—” “Got ya.” He smirked as he used two fingers to adjust his glasses. “That was a question.” “You. You tricked me!” I kept my voice as angry as I could “Di...nice try,” he complimented. “I didn’t finish the question, therefore I did not ask it. But to answer your question, yes. I do want to test it.” He stopped walking and turned towards me, holding out his arm. “Punch.” “What?” I stared. “Again. Still my turn.” He pointed to his hand. “Now, ball your fingers together until your hand looks like a hoof, which is called a fist, and punch.” I moved the walking stick to one hand and used the other to do as Joe asked. Like he said, it was shaped like a hoof again. I looked back at him and wore a thin line for a mouth. I didn’t move past that. “...” He looked like he was about to ask something but chose his words. “You’re hesitating.” “An’ you didn’t ask yet,” I told him. “I am asking you. Punch,” he repeated. “In a question,” I ‘asked’ him. “Ya tricked me out a’ my turn.” He glared. “Are you serious?” That was all I needed to hear. I smiled innocently. “Why, indeedy Ah am.” I pulled back my arm and, in a wild flail, drove my fist in his general direction. When Joe realized that it was going to miss his hand and strike into his gut, he moved to catch it. A loud pap echoed out from the punch and the only thing I felt was the force of my punch come to a halt. Meanwhile, Joe slid back a few inches and immediately regretted this. “Guh. Good hit,” he complimented, shaking his hand while he held the wrist. He hissed at the pain somewhat but I could tell it hurt him worse than that. But he didn't seem angry or upset towards me. “Thanks?” I looked down at my fist. I didn’t know much about humans, or people, but I probably didn’t punch as well as I could have. My stance was probably wrong on top of other things. That’s weird. The more I’m looking at my hand, the more confusing it gets. My Cutie Marks were on the back of both hands and aside from knowing they were mine, I couldn’t remember a thing about them. Even when Joe asked back at school. Except, now something else about my hands confused me even more. “Hey Joe.” I waited until his attention was on me. “Can I see your hand?” “Interesting question,” he said. I flinched, realizing I just lost what I fought to get. “But I’ll humor you. Sure, here.” He walked over and held out his hand with the inside of it facing up. Curious, I reached over and turned it around so I could see the back of it. When he saw me staring, his expression softened. “I already told you. I don’t have a Cutie Mark.” I shook my head. “Not that.” To prove my point, I held out my own hand so we could compare them. My Cutie Mark, a multi-colored shield with an apple and then heart inside of that, was in the center but with my other hand I pointing at my fingers. Joe’s fingers had little plastic tips that went about halfway to the first bend of each finger. But the plastic tips on mine reached went beyond that. Weirder yet, the skin on my hands wasn't as rubbery as his skin. Joe noticed too and, with his other hand, reached forward and knocked where my Cutie Mark was. It was dull, but we could both hear the sound. As though he were knocking on something hard. Like a hoof. Next, he knocked on his own hand and it sounded almost like knocking on a wet towel; not all that sturdy or solid. “That’s not normal,” he told me. “Do ya think it’s ‘cause Ah’m an Earth Pony?” Joe didn’t say anything else. He drew his hand back and folded his arms behind his back. I watched my hands for a couple of seconds before eventually just trying to find somewhere else for them to go. I didn’t want to keep looking at them. The thought of my hands was starting to freak me out all over again. Joe kept thinking to himself, occasionally shaking his head or moving around a little. He looked like he was about to start pacing around. “That ain’t a normal thing fer people, is it?” I asked. He paused. “No. The fact that it’s uniform for all your fingers makes it that much harder to understand.” Joe took a few more seconds to stare at his hands before turning back to me with them folded back behind him. “If it doesn’t hurt then we best not mess with it for now. How much further do you think it is to your home?” I glanced around us, making note of any kind of landmarks I could find. Now that my eyes were three times higher off the ground it was easier to get my bearings. “Ah think we’re about halfway,” I said. “So, ‘nother ten minutes maybe?” His expression fell. “A map would be so useful right now.” I agreed and we started walking forward again with neither of us really saying anything. Then, after maybe another two minutes, Joe perked up as if he had heard a whistle. “Ms. Bloom. What is that over there?” He pointed ahead where the trail made a sharp turn left. I stepped up and after looking through the trees that grew in the crook of the trail was something I had never seen before. “It looks like a wall,” I told him. “Made outta all sorts a’ wood an’ stuff.” Joe reached for the camera around his neck and used the lens to get a better look while I copied him. With the lens helping us, we noticed the wall stretched out to cover the entire trail from one edge to the other. There was even a tall platform on the opposite side with two creatures moving around on it. “Goats,” Joe answered aloud. “Goats at a roadblock.” I kept messing with the camera lens until I got a better look at them. The horns and yellow eyes definitely lined up with what Granny described goats to look like. “Goats at a roadblock, with ties and.” Joe paused to look a little closer. “Earpieces?” “Ear piece? Are they missin’ their ears?” It was hard to tell from this distance. “No, it’s the device in their...nevermind.” Joe took a second to remove the flash from his camera before taking a picture. Then, when the Polaroid spat out a picture, Joe snatched it and took another shot. “I’m going to bet by your reaction that this isn’t supposed to be here.” I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. First time Ah’ve even spotted a goat.” I frowned. “That roadblock ain’t supposed ta be their either. What’s it for?” “Well, using logic.” Joe took out the second picture and began to wave the two around in the air to help the image form. “Roadblocks are for, well, blocking the road.” I didn't much care for his sarcasm. Joe went on. “More specifically, they’re meant to stop traffic without first being permitted through. However, I don’t see a door or trail through it. I doubt we’re allowed past.” “But. But that’s where Sweet Apple Acres is.” I tensed up. “Why’re them goats blockin’ the road?” Joe started backing up into the treeline and I followed until we were safely hiding behind a giant tree. “Ms. Bloom,” Joe said. “Does this trail only lead to your farm? I noticed it branched out a few times behind us.” “No,” I admitted. “It leads ta two more farms ‘fore endin’ at ours. But neither a’ them are owned by goats.” “Should we trust the goats?” He looked out from behind the tree, observing them. I didn’t have an answer. I never met a goat before and Equestria wasn’t exactly teeming with them. Joe settled back behind the tree. “Gonna take your silence as a no.” “Well, we can jus’ go around ‘em,” I reasoned. “It ain’t like that wall cuts through the woods an’ orchards.” “Not physically at least.” Joe spent a few seconds focusing on his breathing as he thought to himself. “Ms. Bloom. Is there a large hill nearby? Or a tall tree? Somewhere you could get a lay of the land?” I thought over the places around us. I remembered this sharp turn in the trail well. Granny mentioned all the time that they did it since our family didn’t want a dirt road cutting straight through the orchard ahead of us. Even though the orchard was still another minute or so if you walked as a pony. But for myself and the other Crusaders, we didn’t mind it much. This was where we always turned opposite of the path and cut through the trees towards— I broke out into a grin. “Joe. Remember when Ah told ya Ah had a clubhouse?” He frowned. “You also said it was further away then your home.” I bobbed my head side-to-side in a ‘sort of’ manner. “Yeah, but, rate we’re goin’, it’ls gonna be a walk regardless. Besides, we got a small tower at the top with a telescope. You can see the farm an’ some a’ the town from it too.” Now it was Joe’s turn to bob his head a little. “That would be good. But are you sure the goats haven’t found it yet?” “Not a worry! It’s on a secluded part a’ the farm. Nowhere near any path either.” Joe peered back at the goats again but this time he pulled up his camera to zoom in. “Well, let’s hope you’re right. It looks like they have patrols beyond the path.” Curious, I peeked from my side of the tree and used my own lens. It was as Joe said. A trio of goats had emerged from the treeline and were now loudly bleating at the goats on the checkpoint. “Is that how they talk?” Joe took another picture and continued watching. Then he chuckled. “Funny.” “What?” I pulled away from my camera to look at him. “Goats or not, their body language is more obvious than a person’s. Looks like the tree goats aren’t exactly the best of friends with the checkpoint goats.” “Really?” I tried looking harder but I couldn’t make out their expressions aside from cross-eyed. And with what ones I could, they didn’t look like they were glaring. “Ah don’ see it.” “Note how they’re standing. The amount of time they’re looking at each other. Heh. One of them just broke eye contact out of frustration.” As Joe kept watching, for the first time since I had met this people-thing, he looked like he completely understood what was going on. He smirked. “One of the tree goats is trying to belittle the checkpoint goats. They might be of some sort of higher status. Or at the very least, it considers itself to be,” Joe deducted. “Uh, Joe?” I cut in. “The clubhouse?” “Right. Right.” he came back down from his own little world. “Apologies. I know I saw the pictures of ponies back at the schoolhouse but to actually see those goats moving and acting as they are...it’s almost comical. “But I’ll worry about it later.” Joe let the camera rest and tucked away the third picture in the saddlebag he was carrying. Rumble's saddlebag. “For now, let’s worry about sneaking past them. With the patrol at the checkpoint we should be safe to move quickly.” He turned back and glanced at the walking stick I had with me. “You think you’re ready to start jogging?” I took a second to look it over myself. It was still pretty sturdy and if I tripped I could probably use this walking stick to catch myself. Now I'm glad I kept it. “Ah think so.” “Good.” He nodded. Then, after motioning for me to stay put, he quickly went from the tree we were behind to another one deeper into the forest. “We won’t have to do this the whole way, but follow my lead when I go from tree to tree.” He glanced at the goats to make sure we were good and gestured for me to rush over. Not wasting any time, I kept my head low and tried to hurry to the next tree for cover. We quickly fell into a pattern. After I pointed out the direction we needed to move, Joe would rush to the next tree and then I would follow him. Then it was onto the next. After about half a dozen trees, Joe and I went into a small gallop, or ‘jog’ as Joe called it. After I felt fine enough to keep going without falling down, I took the lead and Joe followed behind me so I could lead him towards the clubhouse. Whatever those goats were doing near Sweet Apple Acres, I was gonna get to the bottom of it.