The target was far too inviting.
It was absurdly well-lit: nearly a dozen warding-lamps hung from posts over a small tabled area before the building. And it was too clean: the wood was immaculate, and painted in vibrant hues. Flowers of all kinds wrapped themselves up and down trusses and patches about the building, and a larger communal garden bloomed. From the further hints scattered about, the establishment was often-traveled: it was a place ponies had been flooding in droves for many moons.
‘The Surly Mare’s Inn’ was too kind for its namesake.
But Applejack was not going to let underestimation fail her duties as a proctor.
“Applebloom.”
The burdened yellow filly sidled up beside her, shucking her packs with a huff. Her smile gleamed in the moonlight. “Yeah, sis?”
“I’m taking point tonight. This place is throwing me off.”
Applejack held close to her dark-black stetson, the vicious gusts of the night whipping her cloths to-and-fro. Her cloak billowed out around her, shading the ground from the full moon at her back. She grit her teeth, and spat into the dirt of the trodden trail as she approached the beacon among the plains. Her eyes stuck to the nearby trees, and to the edges of the woodland west, but the only movement she drew upon was the billowing smoke of a chimney overhead.
Applejack pat down the edges of the door, before cautiously reaching for the handle with a hoof.
It turned easily.
She pushed into the lit room.
Her ears rang.
She leapt all the way in, and spun about.
Her withers fell slack.
“A tavern with a bell?” Applebloom hummed, stepping in after her sister. “That’s, um…” She trailed off, and a smile crept up. “Funny.”
Applejack grumbled, opting to secure the room. “Yeah, ‘funny.’”
The two sisters paused.
“You hear that, Bloom?”
Applebloom pursed her lips, and held close behind Applejack. They scanned the empty first-floor. “Yeah.”
The stoked stone-fireplace crackled.
Heavy thuds emanated from elsewhere.
Applejack readied a hoof under her cloak.
And then a white behemoth emerged from a backroom doorway.
The sisters gawked.
“WELCOME TO THE SURLY MARE!”
“Sweet Celestia…”
“You’re huge!” Applebloom burst.
“YEAH!” the white ‘pegasus’ reared from across the counter. The mares almost blew back at the stallion’s guttural bellow.
“…real tiny wings, though.”
Having recovered, Applejack moved her hoof from her cloak. She thwacked her sister’s hat lightly. “What she meant to say, is that we’re with the Guild.” She cast wary eyes about the place. “You sent a missive out our way, that right?”
The pegasus blinked. Slowly. “UHHH. NO?” he tried.
While Applebloom rubbed at her ears, Applejack snorted. “No?” Her voice filled with irritation. “What do you mean, no? You saying you ain’t the proprietor?”
“I am.” A relatively minute butter-yellow mare stepped out from behind the bulky stallion. Applejack relaxed, and the mare smiled, albeit uneasily. “I’m glad you got here safely. And so soon.” She paused, then looked up to the stallion. “Bulk, could you get them some drinks?”
“Yeah,” he whispered back. The stallion trudged off to the side.
Applebloom beamed. “Drinks?”
Applejack’s eyes flicked to her sister, but found her eyes hardening on the yellow mare approaching the counter. “Drinks?”
“Oh, of course! You’ve come all this way and—”
“And we’ve got little time to play traveler,” she cut in. Reaching into her cloak, she drew a ribbon-bound scroll, and placed it on the counter. “We’re here to assist you. You are Miss Shy, ain’tcha?”
She nodded. “You can call me Fluttershy.”
Applejack acquiesced. “Fluttershy. So like I was saying, we need you to give us the rundown on this ‘urgent critter problem,’ as you wrote.” She glanced around again. “The Crown’s charter gives the Apple Guild the authority to deal with monsters, so I’m hoping that ‘critter’ doesn’t refer to plague rats. That ain’t our business.”
“Oh, no, of course not! No, the plague rats and I made a deal a long, long time ago!”
The cloaked mare stared.
“It’s… well, I don’t know.” Fluttershy shuddered. “If they’re not critters, they’re sneaky, and awful, whoever they are.”
Bulk returned, balancing two tiny cups on his two tiny wings. He bent down, and down, and miraculously slid them from his back to the sisters across from him.
Applejack gave another eyeful to Applebloom. “You speak with Mister… Bulk there, Bloom.”
“I know, I know,” the filly waved. She sipped at the cup. “Hey, this is pretty good!”
The stallion took a breath.
“Inside voice, please,” Fluttershy chirped automatically.
Bulk nodded, but maintained his wide, manic grin. “Tea,” he whispered.
Applejack seated herself at the counter, and kept all her attention on the mare before her. “Now, ‘they’? Have you seen ‘em? And what’s this about them being awful? I reckon they haven’t been wrecking your place here, seeing how pristine it is.”
“It’s um…” Fluttershy’s eyes shifted between Bulk and Applebloom. She turned back. “It’s probably best I show you.”
Applejack gave her tea a sip. “O’course. Lead the way.”