//------------------------------// // A Camping We Will Go! (3) // Story: Junior // by Fuggmann //------------------------------// Dad loops an arm around one of the straps of his backpack and lifts it with ease. The action makes the flexing of his muscles against his skin-tight black shirt all the more obvious. You should have packed some air freshener, because you know your friends are going to stink-out the tent with the smell of horny filly. Once his backpack is in place, Dad fingers the straps, tightening one, then smiles down at you. “Lead the way, [daughter dearest].” After stopping to grab your filly scout hat, badge sash, and bag, and once more to lock the front door, you and Dad start out to the schoolhouse Dad hums a nameless tune under his breath as he walks, taking one slow, long step for every 3 or 4 of yours. No one really pays you or Dad any mind other than a few younger mares, but he said when he first moved into town, he’d get stares from all over. “Have you been camping a lot, Dad?” You ask, looking at his gigantic bag again. ”Indeed I have,” He smiles and nods. “It was a pleasurable pastime for myself and my friends when we were your age. Ah, we were a bit, how do you say? Boneheaded? Boneheaded sometimes, however. More than once we underpacked and had to subsist on the land, or return home embarrassed. We learned quick to cook well.” You can't help but snort and smirk. “Really? You forgot food of all things? That was the first thing we packed for this trip.” ”Not always food,” Dad looks away, faintly embarrassed. “Sometimes other things. Rope, tinder, or even the cardinal sin of forgetting a good knife. Listen well, [mini-me], for few tools are as valuable as a reliable bit of steel. I will teach you this weekend.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “The Fillyscouts don’t give us real knives, Dad. Too dangerous, they said.” You kick a bit of grass with a hoof. “What a load of...” You stop yourself short. He smiles. “Oh? Too dangerous? Nonsense. A knife is a tool most valued by outdoorsmen. Prove yourself to me this weekend, Junior, and I will see you with one of your own.” 'What?' You look up at Dad, who smiles widely down at you. You scan his face for any sign of him pulling your hoof, but his expression does not waver. “For real?” ”For real,” he promises. ...Holy hell, he’s for real. Excitement bubbles up in you, and you can’t hold back the smile that creeps up your muzzle. “...Hey, Dad? When was the last time I told you that I love you?” He throws his head back and laughs. You and Dad keep walking, and before long, the schoolhouse comes into view. You recognize a few parents of your classmates already heading the same way  ”What in Celestia’s name..?” ”Hmm?” Dad stops and turns to the side, prompting you to stop as well. Just a little ways off is Rarity, the town tailor, Sweetie Belle, who stands in her Fillyscout outfit like you, and a wide-eyed, slack-jawed, Twilight Sparkle, the librarian that dad warned you about. Her eyes are locked with Dad’s. You feel your muzzle scrunch up at the way the purple unicorn is looking at your old man, so you step in front of him and tuft up, daring her to do something. Rarity is quick to whisper to Twilight. “Twilight, please, that's terribly rude of you to stare like that,” she mutters, making Twilight blink and close her mouth. Rarity then looks to you and Dad with a smile. “Mister Heart! Junior! It’s a delight to see you!” “Hiya, Miss Rarity,” you greet blandly, letting your tuft deflate. You know the colty mare pretty well considering that she’s a family friend. Dad used to foalsit her when her family would go on trips, and now she’s Dad’s first choice for a tailor. Oh, and she’s never let her crush on Dad fade, even after he married Mom, making things kinda awkward sometimes… Now that you think about it, dad has lived in Ponyville for about 15 years, long enough to give a lot of mares now in their 20s janegirl kinks. You physically hiss and kill that train of thought.  ”Good afternoon, Rarity,” Dad smiles brightly. “You’re looking as lovely as ever. Is this your sister that you were telling me about?” He asks, waving a hand at a bug-eyed Sweetie Belle. “Once more, I am astounded that your family produces nothing but beautiful young mares.” Sweetie Belle’s face instantly burns a bright red that almost glows against her white coat, making you scowl. Great. Another one. Rarity wiggles on her hooves like a little colt with a giggle and nudges her sister. “Indeed! Mother, Father, and Sweetie Belle here moved back into town at the start of the school year. Say hello to Mister Heart, Sweetie.” ”E-Erm, Hi Mister Heart,” she squeaks out, still blushing and unable to look him in the eye.  Dad’s pearly smile makes her squeak again and look away, then he looks at Twilight Sparkle, his smile waning and eyes narrowing just a little, too little for anyone but you to notice. “Where are my manners today? How remiss of me to not greet your friend, Rarity,” he says, inclining his head. “My name is Anonymous Heart Senior, ma’am, might I know yours?” The unicorn finally blinks her violet eyes and stops staring. “O-Oh, uh, Twilight. Er, Sparkle. Twilight Sparkle, I mean! I’m the library… Librarian! The librarian who moved in a few weeks ago! That's me!” She verbally trips over herself with a nervous laugh and rubs one foreleg with the other when dad lets out an amused huff. “It’s nice to meet you?” “[That sounded like a question,]” you snark, making Sweetie and Twilight look at you in confusion. A second later, Dad flicks your ear. “Ow!” You reach up and hoof your smarting ear. ”It’s rude to speak of someone in another tongue when they do not understand, daughter o’ mine,” he says with a click of his tongue. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Miss Sparkle. Please meet Anonymous Heart Junior, my precious firstborn.” “Just Junior is fine,” you grumble, the sting in your ear finally gone. “I’d say it's nice to meet you, but I’d be lying after watching you gape at my old man like that.”  ”Junior,” Dad sharply warns. ”No no no, that's okay!” Sparkle insists, waving a hoof frantically. “That was rude of me, I’m sorry! I’ve just never seen a…” “Human,” You roll your eyes and throw her a bone.   ”-Humaane before.” Sparkle finishes, looking between both you and Dad. Dad hums and rubs his chin. “I hail from an isolated and xenophobic land, Miss Sparkle. I am likely the only human you will ever meet. I’ve kept an ear to the ground for news of another human leaving the old country for over a decade and heard nothing, and thus I expect it to remain so.” He adjusts his backpack. “Forgive my curt answer, but I am to mind my daughter and her friends for a fillyscout trip, and we are due at the meeting point soon.” Sparkle tilts her head, and you can see her thoughts churning. “A stallion on a camping trip? Will his group be teamed with yours, Rarity?” She turns to her fellow unicorn. Rarity just waves a hoof. “Certainly not, Twilight. Mister Heart needs no help. If anything, WE may ask HIM for help.” Sparkle smiles at hearing that. “That's really forward-thinking of you, Rarity.” 'You bitch.' Dad’s fingertip just barely brushing your ear makes you hold back the vitriol on your tongue. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Sparkle. I’m in need of some new reading material, so perhaps we could talk more the next time I stop by the library?” The unicorn smiles a little more. “I’d enjoy that.” After saying a short goodbye, Sparkle trots off on another errand, leaving you, Dad, Rarity, and Sweetie Belle to trot the rest of the way to the school. As you walk, Sweetie Belle sidles up to your side. “Hey Junior?” She asks quietly. “Eh?” You grunt. Sweetie looks over at her sister and your Dad, who are too caught up in a conversation about sewing of all things to pay you or Sweetie any mind. Rarity’s magic pulls at one of the rough stitches on Dad’s pants as she groans with dismay. Dad just laughs. After a few seconds of silence, you glare at the smaller filly. “What? Spit it out already.”  She flinches. “Uh, is he really your dad? I know you said your dad wasn’t a pony, but I didn’t expect…” She trails off. You snort. “You think I’m the strongest filly in class because I work out or something? Hell no, it’s all human blood, baby,” you say with a proud smile. ”If you're not adopted, shouldn't you be, like, part hyumane or something?” Sweetie struggles to pronounce ‘human’. “You look like a normal pony... mostly.” “Something about magic in the womb and hybrid… something something,” you shrug, not really remembering the explanation that Mom gave you. “Both me and my brother have his eyes and teeth, so, I dunno. It just works.” Sweetie doesn’t seem satisfied by the answer, but you don’t really care. The schoolhouse comes into view, and you can already see most everyone there. There are about sixteen fillyscouts with three moms between them...Make that two moms and one mareservant, as you can see a bored pegasus mare with a ladle cutie mark and a full backpack standing with Diamond Tiara’s troupe. Her servant get-up makes it really obvious. Off to the side, you spy Apogee, Zala, and Luftkrieg in one group, and Applebloom and Scootaloo in another.  ...And a little further off, you see Scoutmaster Sweet Biscuit standing in her scoutmaster uniform overseeing everything. No homo, Sweet is a pretty mare. A light beige coat, wavey gold mane and tail, bright green eyes, and a colty talent in baking cookies should have made her at least a second pick for a stallion wanting a herd... Or she would be a high pick if she didn’t have an overbearing, downright patronizing view on guys. A lot of stallions are emotional, and some are just dumb and need a mare to hoofhold them through life, but Sweet is guffaw-worthy. You vividly recall how she tried to talk down to Apogee’s dad, who is a literal aeronautics engineer, at the last scout meeting. No wonder Sweet is stuck as a fillyscout master thirsting after easily scared dads. Oh well. Pathetic is as pathetic does. “We’ll see you two in the woods!” Rarity smiles and wave a hoof and you and Dad as her horn glows. Then with a flash of blue light and a ‘pop!’ She summons a ridiculously old-timey tweed dress, a tweed cap, and a whole locked trunk of what is probably clothes. Sweetie Belle flushes when a few fillies point and laugh, and both Applebloom and Scootaloo slowly walk to Rarity with resigned cringes on their faces. Your friends, meanwhile, trot up to you and Dad with grins, and Dad in-turn grins back. ”A pleasure to see you girls again so soon,” He says, planting his hands on his hips as he looks down at them. “Ready for the weekend?” ”Yes, Mister Heart!” Luft shakes her full saddle-bags. “We’re ready!” ”That the spirit!” He laughs deeply and shifts his backpack around. Luft, Zala, and Apogee’s eyes instantly train themselves on the rolling abdominal muscles in Dad’s core. “Fucking…” You screw your eyes shut. 'It's going to be a long weekend.' ”Is everypony here?” You, Dad, and your friends turn. It looks like Scoutmaster Sweet decided to start everything. The mare trots forward imperiously with her head held high. Her horn glows a faint green and levitates a slip of paper from behind her filled-to-bursting badge sash. Sweet’s eyes travel over everyone gathered, lingering for a moment on Dad. She looks down at her slip of paper with a frown. “Team Two, where is your chaperone?” “My old mare is busy, so I brought my dad,” You respond. Sweet’s frown grows and she trots up like she’s Celestia herself, planting herself right before Dad. “So you’re Mister Heart?” You hold back a snicker at the image of Sweet trying to intimidate your dad when he’s literally twice her height. Dad just smiles pleasantly. “Indeed I am, Scoutmaster. Please forgive the sudden change, as my wife was called away to work this weekend, and my daughter asked me to fill in.” Sweet lets out a long-suffering sigh as if Dad’s presence rains on her parade. “Fine, I suppose we can let a stallion come along.” She turns and trots back to the front of the group. “Just follow along with what I say and we’ll get you through the weekend in one piece, honey. Team Two, change in plans. When we head out, you’re at the front of the line between myself and Team One.”  At your side, Zala blinks. “What? We’re not going to get lost that easily.” ”Rude…” Apogee murmurs. You’re really looking forward to seeing the smug look wiped off of Sweet’s face. The hike to the Whitetail Woods isn’t very long, less than two miles from the schoolhouse, but Sweet loudly INSISTED on no less than four breaks along the way for the “Stallion in the group”, making the trip much longer than needed and earning your group more than a few annoyed looks. Dad tried to wave her off, but Sweet would have none of it. Cunt. ”Okay, scouts and parents!” Sweet cries as the campground comes into view. “Your spots are marked with your team numbers. Get your tents set up, and give me a holler if you need any help,” she says, giving Dad a pointed look. You grumble some choice words under your breath. You were tempted to let them fly, but hold it back. In the tree-framed clearing, you spy a clear dirt circle in the grass with a tall stone embedded into the ground nearby. There is a large “4” carved on it, and Diamond Tiara’s clique waltzes in to take it with the still expressionless mareservant following. It doesn’t take you long to find spot 2, and your friends and Dad find it at roughly the same time, so everyone moves as a group. ”Hrm…” Dad rubs his chin as he surveys the flat patch of dirt, then up at the afternoon sun. “Not what I had in mind, but rather easy.” ”Is something wrong, Mr. Heart?” Zala asks, craning her neck up to look at him. Dad waves her concern away. “Nothing, my dear. I was expecting the terrain to be, how do you say? Less agreeable?” He shrugs. “Oh well. It matters little.” He takes his backpack off and drops it to the dirt with an impressive ‘thud’. “First thing is first, girls. Shelter should be set-up before sundown. Fumbling with a tent is no fun in the dark.” ”Erm…” Apogee, the one carrying the team’s tent, looks back at the bundle on her back with a measure of distress. “Ahh… Mr. Heart, I… Uh, I don’t mean this to be offensive, but I don’t think the tent... will be big enough sorry if that was kinda meanitwasn'taboutyourweighthonest!” She quickly blurts out. Dad lets out an amused huff. “It’s no matter, my dear,” he smiles. “I figured it would be inappropriate for a grown man to share a tent with four young mares like yourselves. Ho ho, good thing I brought my own tent, or I might not be able to help myself around your pretty friends, [mini-me]!” You blink. “What…?” You, Zala, Apogee, and Luftkrieg all blush nuclear red. Your friends probably because of the dirty thoughts running through their heads, and you because of how god-damn embarrassing this man is sometimes. ”I jest, girls,” Dad chuckles and bends down to open his bag. The buckles almost fly off and nail him in the face from how overfilled the thing is. “You are indeed pretty young mares, but a bit young for me. Now, if you were a bit older and I a bit younger…” “[Dad, enough teasing them already!]” You look at Apogee, Luft, and Zala, and are horrified to see them standing awkwardly with their muzzles still painted red and their tails flagging. You throw your forelegs around them and drag them a few yards away with a trio of yelps for the effort. “Cut the thoughts about rutting my dad, now!” You growl quite literally. The noise cuts through the fog in their brains and returns your friend’s senses to them. “Let's get this damn tent set up and get through this weekend, okay?” All three nod, still stealing glances at your old man, who wears an infuriatingly amused smirk. Apogee shrugs the tent bag off of her back, and all of you shed your saddlebags. You unzip the tent bag, then you and the girls each take a corner, pulling it out until the cheap nylon tent lays flat.  Now for the tricky part; Getting the support rods that actually hold the tent up through the loops across the roof of the tent. If you’re not a unicorn, this is always a pain in the ass.  ”Is there not a way to make this easier?” Apogee groans as the segmented, fiberglass rod she and Luft are trying to shimmy through one of the loops gets caught in the loop and bunches it up, again. The yellow pegasus grumbles and pulls the rod away again, unbunching the fabric before trying again even slower. ”Well, we’re doing better than some…” Luftkrieg spits her end of the rod out and points a wing to team 3. You look and snort. ”Ah’m sure it’s supposed to go this way!” ”But that's going to rip a hole in the floor!” ”We’re never gunna get camping cutie marks at this rate…” ”Girls! Please! There are instructions on the inside of the bag!” Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and a frazzled-looking Rarity are really struggling to set up their tent. Zala shakes her head as she stomps the last tent stake into place, making her dreadlocks bounce. “Not much of a tent, but perhaps they could get cutie marks in abstract art?” You laugh and drop the rain tarp you were straightening with your mouth. “Ouch! Way to lay into them!” The zebra blinks her purple eyes innocently. “I was being serious, though…?”  ”If they’re having that much trouble…” Apogee grins when she finally gets the first rod through a support loop. “Shouldn't have Scoutmaster Sweet gone over to help them?” She asks, looking around for the unicorn. ”Mister Heart! Having trouble?” You and your friends turn, finding your kneeling Dad carefully cutting paracord with a large, fixed-blade knife. In front of him is a very stern-looking Sweet, and behind him is a simple, mostly-completed triangle tent of green canvas. Ah, of course. Leave the floundering fillies alone to harass a stallion. A very Sweet thing to do. ”Your concern is most appreciated, Scoutmaster,” Dad smiles and cuts one last length of cord in his hand, giving him four of the same length “But I am fine. I merely needed appropriately sized tie-downs for my shelter. The ones that came with the tent were mis-sized.” Sweet shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “Honey, look. If you needed something like that, you should have had one of your fillyscouts or myself do it. There’s no need for a stallion to be handling sharp objects,” she says, giving the knife in Dad’s hand a disapproving look. Dad just raises an eyebrow. “I see. I will keep that in mind for next time, Scoutmaster. Your wisdom is appreciated,” his eyes wander to Team 3, who look five seconds away from an inter-team brawl. “Perhaps you could assist Team 3 as well? It seems as though they could use your expertise.” How he said that with a straight face, you have no idea. Sweet nods, a self-satisfied smile creeping up on her face. Then she turns and trots to Rarity’s group. “Team 3! Just what are you doing?!” Dad turns and gives you an amused smile before standing and sheathing his knife at his hip. He must have dug the knife out of his bag when he opened it, as you don’t recall seeing it before then. “Would you girls like assistance in finishing your tent?” He asks, moving to tie down the corners of his own tent with the newly-cut cord in his hands. Apogee and Luft finally drop the second support rod to the tent after their twelfth failure. “Zhat would be appreciated, Mr. Heart,” Luftkrieg’s germane accent thickens from her frustration. “I don’t know what we’re doing wrong!” Dad stands and walks over, taking one look at the “Colemare” tag on the tent before he hisses. “Ah, these,” His voice and expression drip with disdain. “We had tents like these in the old country. Not worth the materials they’re made of, truly. This will be fine for this weekend, but I will be getting you girls an actual tent should you wish to camp again.” He sighs. “[Fucking Coleman. Following me here?]” He mutters in English. “Anyway, there is a trick to these. Let me show you.” He crouches down and takes the still unthreaded fiberglass rods in his hand. “Now I will need someone to hold the loop in the middle up just a little.” Luftkrieg is quick to make a fluttering jump to the middle of the flat tent. Like Dad asked, she takes the loop in her teeth and pulls it up just an inch. ”Wonderful!” Dad gives her a toothy smile, dusting Luft’s white muzzle with pink. “Now, we need only wiggle it like so…” He shakes the rod rapidly, but not so rapidly that the segments come apart, then feeds it through the loop. Like magic, it comes out the other side without snagging even once. “You can get off the tent now, Miss Luftkrieg. Junior? Miss Zala? Can you clip the rods into the corners there?” You and Zala share a look then do as Dad asked. It’s easy since there’s no tension on the rods yet. ”And finally…” Dad takes both rods in each hand and with a movement almost too fast to track, bends the rods and clips the final two corners into place, making the tent pop up like a spell brought it to life. “Easy!” ”Wow, that had to be a record!” Apogee beams. You look around, and sure enough, Team 2 is the first team done. Sweet is still trying to undo the clusterbuck that Rarity’s misfits managed, Teams 1 and 5 are still trying, even with their moms helping. Team 4… You look at Diamond Tiara’s tent, which is more like a small house, as it assembles itself with a cooked-in animation spell. Tiara and her pals just stand around and talk, pointing hooves and laughing at Team 3. “Whatever...”