//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: Making Friends // Story: The Descendants // by Gherkin //------------------------------// Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything. ~ Muhammad Ali Appleloosa, Equestria 20th May 1002 C.R. 02:46PM The Electric Stallion chuckled, following his ecstatic new friend as he happily showed him every part of his town, from the Wild (and mild) West dances to the horse-drawn horse-drawn carriages. Cole smiled. Back when he was a kid it seemed as though there was nothing more he wanted than to be a gunslinger in the west. Now he was there (or some sort of equivalent, anyway) and all he or his friends could think about was how they were going to pay for the damage done to the local saloon. “Well, I think that’s about it,” Braeburn announced, arriving back at The Salt Block. “So, what do y’all think?” John, Cole, and Ezio thought for a moment, trying to think of the best thing to say. They were not able to match Braeburn's level of enthusiasm, which had made the past half an hour or so rather awkward. "You have a very nice town here, Signore Apple," Ezio finally said simply, smiling. "Yeah," John agreed, "Nice and homely, without any of the noise of the big cities." The gunslinger could have sworn he saw the stallion blush slightly. "Well, fellas, you're too kind." He grinned and started down the road, leading them back to his farmhouse. "I hope you'll forgive my enthusiasm. I guess that 'cause my family's one of the few who founded Appleloosa, it holds a special place in my heart." Ezio tapped him on the shoulder. "I know the feeling. Being the person to turn a place from a dilapidated wreck to a bustling village gives a great sense of pride and accomplishment." Cole nodded, wiping sweat from the desert sun off his forehead. "Heh, don't I know it." He trotted slightly faster to match the beige stallion's pace. "Hey, listen." Braeburn turned his head and nodded, motioning for him to continue. "We're new in town," MacGrath told him, "And we don't think it's right for us to accept all of this generosity without doing something in return. So, is there anything we can do to help out around here?" "You don't have be so modest, we're doing just fine by ourselves," Braeburn explained, "But if y'all insist, I guess I could do with some extra hooves down on the farm." "Yeah, that'd be great." Cole nodded and returned to Ezio and John. "You could have worded that one better," John said, snickering. "I mean, 'we don't think it's right to accept all this generosity'? I know you were trying to be modest and all, but that just takes the cake." "Yeah, sorry about that," Cole apologized, "Never was too good with words." “So, we’re going to be spending the rest of the day doing manual labour,” Ezio began, joining them. “We should count ourselves lucky that Mr. Drake isn’t around, we’d never hear the end of it.” They all chuckled. By now they had left the main town and were approaching an expansive apple orchard, that seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see. Hell, and here I was thinking my farm was too big, John thought to himself. As they drew closer to the farmhouse, the three of them began to make out a large stallion on the front porch snoozing in an old chair, his hat shielding his eyes from the harsh brightness of the sun. "Aw, dangit, he's asleep again," they heard Braeburn mutter. "Pa?" he called out, "Hey Pa, wake up! I got some ponies I want you to meet!" Startled by the sudden noise, the older stallion jerked awake, and promptly fell out of his chair. Cole failed to suppress a small snigger. "What?" Braeburn's father called out. "What did you say, boy?" The beige colt sighed in annoyance. "I said that there's some ponies I'd like you to meet." He motioned to Ezio, John and Cole, who nodded in acknowledgment. "They helped me with a little predicament down at the saloon." The larger stallion looked down upon the three of them, as if he was sizing them up. "Yeah, I heard about that business down at the Salt Block." He stepped down from the porch and held out a hoof to John, who took it. "Well, I'm mighty thankful for you helping out my son, Mister..." "Marston," the gunslinger told him, trying to discreetly break free of the stallion's iron grip. "Marston?" Braeburn's father finally let his hoof go. "Huh. Can't say that's what I'd have called you, but if that's your name, that's your name. Anyway, I'm Baldwin. Baldwin Apple." "Drake was right," Cole muttered to himself, "Just a living, breathing pun." Baldwin shook both Cole's and Ezio's hooves, before stepping back up onto the porch. "Come on in, fellas. It's awfully hot out here. I'll get us something to drink." They happily obliged, following the stallion inside. As they entered the relatively large farmhouse, they were relieved to find that it was adequately air-conditioned. The place was simple, with a fairly large living room, a stocked kitchen, and a few bedrooms. Baldwin disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen, while the rest of them made themselves at home. "We don't have to do much work in the orchard today," Braeburn said finally, breaking the silence. "Just a few trees have apples ready for buckin'." He turned to Ezio. "So where are you from, Mister? You don't sound like you're from round these parts, that's for sure." The assassin started to speak, before being interrupted by Cole. "He's from, uh, Prance," the conduit told him, smiling nervously. "Moved to Equestria a few years back, didn't you Ezio?" "Sì," Ezio answered simply, "I, um, felt like travelling the world." Braeburn chuckled. "Prance, eh? I guessed as much, what with that accent and all." It was at that moment when his father re-entered the room, carrying tray of cider glasses. "Here we are boys," he said, setting it down. "Drink up, Braeburn, you still got that last portion of orchard to harvest." "Don't worry about it, Pa," the colt replied, taking a swig of cider. "My new friends have offered to help me out for a bit." "New friends?" Cole whispered into Ezio's ear as the assassin took a sip of his drink. "Well, this is easier than I thought." "No shit?" Baldwin chuckled heartily. "Well I hope you're up to it, fellas, 'cause it ain't no easy job." Marston tipped his hat back. "I'm sure we'll manage. Besides, I've been working my own farm for nearly ten years now." Baldwin took another sip of his drink. "Really? Might come visit sometime." John nodded, before taking a sip himself. "Yeah, good luck with that," he muttered. They continued to idly chat for about another half an hour, speaking of various things relating to the town. The three ‘ex-humans’ listened in intently. After all, it was better to get to know the people if they expected their help. After that, Braeburn led them out into the fields, where he showed them how to harvest the apples. It was quite simple, really. Just a swift buck to the base of the tree usually dislodged most of the fruit. It was easy enough, and, in almost no time at all, they had finished and were hauling them back to the barn, next to the farmhouse. By the time they had done that, the sun had almost set. “Well, that just about does it,” Braeburn announced. “Now let’s go see if we can’t find someplace for y’all to sleep. It’s the least I can do for all the help you’ve given me today.” “Hey, no problem,” Cole told him. “We’re always happy to help, right?” The other two nodded in agreement. Apple chuckled. “Honestly, y’all are too modest.” He trotted up onto the front porch, pushing the door open. “Come on inside, it’ll be cold out soon.” They obliged and followed him inside, ready to rest after a long day. A Wild West town, bar fight, and meeting a ton of new people in one day? Cole thought, Huh, and I thought this was going to be hard. *** He slowly came to, wincing in pain as he felt blood ooze out of a wound in his head. Every nerve in his broken body screamed in agony, begging him to stop, but he slowly sat up. The distinct smell of smoke flooded his nostrils as he looked around the room, searching for his weapon. “Shit,” he muttered, coughing up even more blood, “Whole damn place is gonna burn to the ground.” They had come sooner than expected. With the ‘friend making campaign’ taking up most of their business, they hardly had enough time to rush back to Canterlot and take up arms when they arrived. This town had been their first attack, and they had just managed to defend it, but only barely. They had pushed them back to a nearby farm, but they had laid an ambush. Now, his friends were nowhere to be found, he was slowly bleeding out, and he was going to burn to a crisp if he didn’t get out fast. His eyes fell upon the weapon; a battered and bruised nine millimeter handgun. He scrambled towards it, grunting in pain. “Must have a few broken ribs,” he said through gritted teeth. An ear-splitting scream slapped him out of his internal thoughts, and willed him to ignore the pain. He scrambled to the window, and looked outside. What he saw only made his heart sink. There they were. His new friends. And they had them held at gunpoint. They were only innocent girls, they didn’t deserve to get caught up in any of this. He propped himself up on the windowsill and took aim at their captors. There was an air-splitting bang as he opened fire, dropping all four of the invaders below in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, the feat had drained all of his energy, and he collapsed again, gasping for breath. The door of the room suddenly burst open, revealing a hallway of flames beyond. One of the invaders charged in raising it’s weapon. A smirk seemed to form on it’s twisted face. “You thought you could stop us?” it sneered. “How pathetic.” He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable to come. He cringed as he recognised the sound of the weapon charging. There was a blast of energy, and then nothing. *** “Shit!” Nathan Drake jerked awake, sweat pouring down his face. He shook his head, trying to get a bearing of his surroundings. He was on an old bed, inside Remedy Apple’s clinic. What a nightmare, he thought to himself, Don’t worry, it was just a dream. He squinted his eyes, looking outside the window towards the town. The sun was just rising over the desert plains, and a few ponies were busy setting up their stores. Apart from that, though, Appleloosa was silent, most of it’s residents still fast asleep. Tentatively, he got off the bed and stood up. He was still in pain, but it was much better than the day before. Instead of an agonizing pain, a dull ache shot through his equine body. Sighing with relief, he walked over to the door and pushed it open, looking outside. Remedy was already busy cleaning up the waiting room, dusting shelves and sorting the pile of old, discarded magazines. “Morning,” he called out to her. The older mare turned around, surprised to see him. “Oh, Mr. Drake, you’re awake,” she said, slightly startled. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up yet. How are you feeling?” “Much better, thanks,” he replied, stretching. “You got any coffee around here?” “There’s a small kitchen just off from the reception,” she informed him. “I’ll make you one, if you’d like.” The pegasus shook his head. “No, you look like you’ve got your hooves full here. I’ll be fine.” She nodded and returned to cleaning. Following her instructions, he trotted through the reception to a cramped kitchen. He picked up the old kettle and set it on the stove, waiting for it to boil. His head was aching slightly. Probably because of that screwed up dream, he thought. Now that he came to think of it, he couldn’t figure out why he had a nightmare like that. He never usually had dreams like that, and the fact that involved the six Elements of Harmony only worried him more. However, as the kettle boiled, he decided not to ponder on it too much. He picked up a mug, dumped in a pile of instant coffee, and poured the water and milk, before mixing it together. He took a sip, and recoiled slightly in disgust. Jesus, this tastes bad. Still, it was better than nothing, so he quickly drank it down, the scalding liquid burning the back of his throat. Setting the mug down, he walked back into the reception to find that Strawberry Smiles had already arrived for her shift. “Mornin’ mister,” she said to him cheerily. “You feelin’ any better?” “I’m good, thanks,” he replied, smiling. “How about you?” “I’m just fine, thank you,” she told him, going through a clipboard of medical records. Nate noticed her downtrodden expression. “Gonna be a long day?” he asked. The mare nodded. “You bet. Mrs. Apple’s got about fifteen ponies seeing her today. That’s more than we had all of last week! I don’t know why so many ponies are getting so sick all of a sudden.” Drake shrugged. “Maybe it’s just that time of year,” he said. Strawberry sighed. “Yeah, maybe.” She gave a little wave as Nate trotted towards the door. “See you later.” Nate nodded back to her. “Bye.” He smiled and stepped out of the clinic into the harsh morning sun. Right, better go meet up with the others, at Braeburn’s place. He set off down the main road at a brisk pace, smiling and greeting passers-by as he went. Who knows? he thought, Maybe today will be a quiet day.