Though the other ponies ran away, Agate could see that they didn't run all that far. Spooked, but curious eyes glimmered through the gaps in shuttered windows and from behind corners of the nearby buildings. Agate waved to them with a smile before trotting after the couple, the ponies shrinking back before cautiously returning, the owners of the eyes clearly confused at just what had transpired there.
"Who is he?" Spear Throw asked Dream Step.
"Ugh. Someone I genuinely forgot about for a while. I wish he'd have stayed that way," The mare huffed, recounting the story of her first encounters with the stallion and the subsequent conflict as they approached her family's house.
"Hrm."
Spear Throw didn't have much to say, though his disdain for Sure Strike and his behavior was clearly written on his face. He reined his expression in when they approached the house, doing his best to appear calm and collected. Dream Step knocked on the door, waiting for an answer with a giddy smile. The door opened a few moments later, a spear-wielding stallion greeting them.
"I heard the massive beast's roar. Is something attacking the- Wait. Is that..."
"Come on, father, don't you recognize your own daughter?" Dream Step huffed, slightly offended.
"...You changed. You're no longer the youthful, foalish filly we left in Snowpitt," The stallion smiled, resting the spear against the doorframe and reaching out to hug his daughter.
"What?! Come on! I was already an adult by the time you left me!"
"There's more to being an adult than age," He laughed. "It's the way you carry yourself. With strength. Purpose. Certainty. And... Hm. I assume you must be Spear Throw," He nodded to the other stallion, his expression turning neutral as he looked him up and down.
"I am, elder," Spear Throw said simply, the two stallions locking eyes for a long minute and taking measure of each other.
The older stallion seemed to approve of what he saw, smiling slowly, before his expression turned neutral again. "You seem like a capable stallion, but I can't help but wonder what that roar was. Did you bring some terrible beast into our village?"
"Nope, that was me," Agate waved with a grin as she stepped out from behind Spear Throw.
"A guardian spirit? You're not one of ours. Wait... I think I know who you are."
"My name is Agate. You might have heard a thing or two about me."
"Yes, the traveler spirit... Dream Step did mention that you were teaching her. Well, my name is Split Log. What did you mean by-" He was about to ask, before getting interrupted by an excited shout from inside.
"Oh my ancestors, is that who I think it is?" A mare giggled excitedly, bumping into Split Log and cramming past the stallion, who only rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"Hi, mom," Dream Step smiled as the mare hugged her fiercely.
"Just look at you! So serious and tough-looking! All grown up! So, so..."
"I was already- Oh, forget it," The younger mare sighed.
"DREAM!" She shrieked suddenly, her eyes wide, making Dream Step flinch back with a grimace. "LOG!" She continued, turning to her husband.
"What in the world is wrong, Raspberry?" Split Log groaned. "Aren't you happy that our daughter came back?"
"It wasn't just her that came back!" Raspberry grinned, making Dream Step's ears fold once she figured it out.
"Well yes, she brought her stallion-"
"Not him!"
"...The traveler spirit?"
"No, you dense lump of lumber! You're going to be a grandfather!"
"I..." It took a few long moments for the stallion to figure things out until he got the idea to take a closer look at Dream Step's belly. "That's not just winter fat, is it?"
"Not unless her stallion's been feeding her very, very, very well. Which he should have been doing anyway. Foals need good food," Raspberry smiled.
"...Enough standing in the doorway already, we're letting all the warmth out. Get inside, you lot," He finally nodded to the group.
They shuffled inside, slowly taking off their travelling accoutrements. Raspberry looked at Dream Step's belly with an analytical gaze when the mare took off her cloak, while Split Log gave a respectful look to the ice spear when Spear Throw unequipped it and rested it by the door.
"So what was that roar? Was that really you, traveler spirit?" Split Log asked with a confused frown.
"Yup," Agate nodded simply.
"Why?"
"Dream Step ran into Sure Strike," She explained just as Dream Step opened her mouth.
"Oh. Him," The stallion grunted, his confusion turning into anger, Raspberry scoffing as well.
"Is he still bothering my little filly? Really?"
"He tried. Spear Throw and Agate put him in his place, though. He actually had delusions that I left the village because of him," Dream Step shrugged.
"That stallion, I swear..." Cloudberry sighed.
Just then, two more ponies popped their heads in from another room, looking at the visitors with curiosity. "Sis? Is that you?"
"You didn't tell me you had siblings, Dream," Agate smiled, catching the pair's attention.
"The topic never really came up, I guess. That is Bramble, my younger sister, and my brother Flint, the youngest of the family. Flint, Bramble, these are Spear Throw, my stallion, and Agate, the traveler spirit and my former teacher," Dream Step explained.
"Wow," Bramble gasped. "You're a real shamare now. Travelling with the legendary Agate herself, and a mighty northern warrior..."
"He's actually a westerner," Dream Step chuckled. "But he accompanied me to the north on my journey."
Just then, there was a knock on the door, making Split Log raise his eyebrows. "What now? We're certainly not expecting anyone else."
Opening the door, he saw several stallions standing outside. Three of them were armed, led by an elder with a faded coat. "Split Log. It seems that your visitors have caused a bit of a commotion. May we come in and talk?"
Narrowing his eyes, the stallion stepped aside, though not without a warning. "Leave those spears by the door, or you can stay outside."
"But of course," The elder nodded, gesturing to the trio.
Every single one of the new ponies eyed Spear Throw and his icy weapon as they disarmed themselves, the stallion standing proudly under their scrutiny. With a wave, Split Log beckoned them deeper in, everyone moving into a large room with a fireplace. Once everyone found a place to sit, Split Log rolled his eyes while Raspberry went to start a pot of tea.
"I warned you about Sure Strike, elder."
"So you did, Split Log, many times. But, how much does it even have to do with him this time?" The old stallion nodded, pointedly looking at Spear Throw.
"Everything," Spear Throw replied with disdain. "He met Dream Step outside, and seeing her was all it took for him to start laying into her."
"Ah yes, that old dispute. I'm afraid to say that there's no way to know for certain who's right in that regard. Really, though his behavior was not appropriate, are we supposed to take the side of a young mare's ephemeral dreams? It's not something that can be solved so easily and decisively."
"I think you're completely wrong, elder," Agate said calmly, looking the old stallion in the eyes.
"...Traveler spirit. I recall seeing you several times on my journeys, and the stories of you acting as an arbiter are many. Educate this old stallion, then," He said, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.
"The conflict between Sure Strike and Dream Step stems from his claim that she is a fraud that tried to attack his reputation and not actually a dreamwalker, does it not?"
"Essentially, yes."
"Well, she isn't a fraud. There we go. Conflict solved," Agate nodded with a faint grin.
"That's... A bit sparse of an argument..." The elder trailed off awkwardly as his companions shared confused looks.
"Is it? Dream Step is a shamare, elder. You're more than welcome to go to Snowpitt and ask the shamares there if you don't believe me. Her gift is real. Her magic is real. I would say that that is a plenty decisive fact in that dispute."
"Well. I have never heard of you being a liar before. And, I suppose we'd see her power sooner or later, if she decides to stay around..."
"I'm staying," Dream Step nodded. "This is my home, and will be the home of my foals. Sure Strike can fantasize about being an infallible hunter that never slips up all he wants. I don't care. But if he decides to annoy me because I don't share in his fantasies, well..."
"...I will defend my mare from that deranged fool," Spear Throw finished for her.
"Hrm. I suppose there's not much more for me to do here, then," The elder shrugged helplessly. "Do remember, though: if this ends in true violence, murder will not be taken lightly. Only the most dire of circumstances will spare you from getting banished."
"Fine by me. I'm still not letting him anywhere near my mare, though," Spear Throw scoffed.
"As much as I can ask for, I suppose. Come on, then, colts. Let's go," The elder got up with a groan, the other stallions leaving without having said a word the entire time.
"Maybe now we can finally catch up," Raspberry sighed in relief, pouring cups of tea for everyone, only catching herself at the last moment before pouring one for Agate. "Tell us more about your stallion, Dream. You told us about how you were in the north in your dreams, but I don't think you mentioned how you met."
"Well, I saw him for the first time when he sought out Agate with questions about his family line..."
❅ ❆ ❅
The family spent the entire day catching up, each pony telling various bits of stories from their perspectives. Dream Step's family were captivated by every little detail, from the list of all the magical stuff she learned, to the descriptions of all the strange and faraway places she visited.
Split Log was still evaluating Spear Throw to a degree as he listened, but it was fairly clear that the old stallion deemed him as an acceptable stallion for his daughter. Not that there was much he could do, seeing as she was already pregnant and determined to settle down with him, but it was still better for the cohesion of the family.
That wasn't nearly the end of the talking, of course. Once they were done catching up with the past, their discussions turned towards the future. Spear Throw had a family of his own, one that needed to be invited to the upcoming wedding. While his family were richer and larger, he decided that he was going to remain in Foamy Rapids per Dream Step's wishes, which meant that the westerners were going to need to come there, and not the other way around.
It took them all a few days to finally agree and settle down on a date for the wedding, which was to be in early spring. Agate, who was busy telling stories and going on the occasional exploration trip, was roped in to be the messenger, not that they even needed to ask her. Flapping on ethereal wings, she took off westwards, to the very opposite edge of the snowpony lands.
While she was fast, the distances were quite vast, to say the least. The journey still took three full days, with a long rest back in her totem in Snowpitt. Landing in Sandy Shell in front of Sea Gale's home, she looked around for signs of life. The winter turned everyone sleepy, but it was easy to see that the house's occupants didn't go anywhere, smoke visibly rising from the chimney.
"Knock knock!" Agate yelled, listening for a reaction.
It took a little while until someone responded. A young mare Agate remembered from her stay there opened the door, with Sea Gale not far behind. Seeing that it was a spirit, the mare cantered away, letting the shamare deal with it. The elder squinted at the visitor for a moment before recognizing her.
"Oh, traveler spirit. What brings you to me? Shamaric business? Did something happen to Dream Step?"
"No, family business. Something did happen, yes. Dream Step is pregnant with Spear Throw's foal," Agate explained.
"HA! I knew it. Don't need any mystical sight to see that those two were going to work out," The elder crooned.
"Right. And now, they're planning a wedding. After all their travels, they decided to settle down in Dream Step's home village, which means that Spear Throw's kin are going to need to cover quite a distance to make it there. It's all the way on the eastern fringes of the southerner's territory."
"Hm. I'm assuming they're not going to hold it in the depths of winter?"
"No, during spring, so there's plenty of time to plan it. I don't know where Spear Throw's parents live, though. They came here to say their farewells last time I saw them."
"Oh, right. Tell you what, I'll show you. Might as well stretch these creaky legs a little..."
Agate spent a few more days with various members of Spear Throw's extended family, retelling the events of Dream Step's knowledge journey and the way their relationship developed, as well as describing Foamy Rapids and the way to get there. A few ponies grumbled that "The stallion should have brought his mare to live here," though they were a minority, and no one wanted to object too hard, given that Dream Step had become a relatively famous shamare already.
Once that was all done, Agate returned east, and stopped to rest in Snowpitt for a few days again. She sought out the shamares that asked her to teach Dream Step, reporting her success and the results of her knowledge journey, which greatly pleased the elders. They asked Agate to relay their interest in learning more about dream magic to Dream Step, which Agate agreed to do, with the warning that Dream Step might soon be too busy tending to her foal to do that.
All together, even for the speedy spirit, the whole roundtrip took a bit over two weeks. Once she made her way back to Foamy Rapids, she entered the family's home, seeking out the inhabitants. Finding no one but Bramble, she approached the young mare, who was busy making a porridge of some kind.
"Hello, Bramble. I'm back from my trip. Where's everyone else?"
"Oh! Traveler spirit! Split Log and Spear Throw went to get some exercise, while Raspberry went with Flint and Dream Step to forage in the tundra for a bit, to take their minds off things."
"Take their minds off what?"
"Oh, right, you don't know. Sorry. Sure Strike didn't feel like letting his humiliation at your and Spear Throw's hooves go, unfortunately," Bramble grimaced.
"I am disappointed, but not surprised," Agate sighed. "What'd he do?"
❅ ❆ ❅
In its most basic form, issuing a challenge to another pony meant simple, brutish, hoof-to-hoof combat. However, it was most certainly not limited to that single aspect, not in the slightest. A challenge could mean absolutely anything. A herbalist challenging another to find a rare plant first, a challenge to a contest of riddles, rhyming and wit, a challenge to a test of strength or endurance, and so on.
While Agate was gone, Sure Strike had challenged Spear Throw. According to Bramble, the stallions kept "accidentally" bumping into each other when out and about, and Sure Strike kept managing to find some fault with Spear Throw each and every time, harassing and provoking the stallion.
"So, did he give in and sock Sure Strike in the face, or something?" Agate asked.
"No, though it was obvious it was taking him all his willpower not to jump him, he managed to restrain himself. He's a pretty disciplined stallion. Dream Step found herself a good one," Bramble nodded, with just a hint of jealousy in her voice.
"What did he do next, then?"
"More or less the same thing he did to Dream Step, really. Gossiped about him to the others. Said he attacked him first when they met. Called him a fraud and said he doesn't deserve that northerner's ice spear he is carrying," Bramble shrugged. "Spear Throw just laughed in his face, saying that he never claimed to be anything but himself, so he can't be a fraud. Sure Strike didn't take it well, and since multiple ponies actually witnessed your first meeting and recounted it to others, fewer and fewer ponies believe his words every day."
"So he's trying some kind of final gamble."
"Yes. He eventually gave up on lying and challenged Spear Throw to a skill contest, and a fight."
"When?"
"Two days ago, three days to prepare. So, tomorrow."
"Well. I'm glad I made it in time to see this. Spear Throw didn't have to accept his challenge, though."
"He said he didn't want himself, nor Dream Step, to have to live with Sure Strike breathing down their necks," Bramble shrugged. "That it was better to just get it over with, one way or another. It's not like he'll have to leave even if he loses. Sure Strike doesn't have nearly that much sway over the village."
"I see. Was there some kind of wager, then, or was it purely for the pride of the victory?"
"Sure Strike said he wanted Spear Throw to give his ice spear to him if he loses. Spear Throw agreed, with the condition that whether he wins or loses, Sure Strike will leave Dream Step alone forever."
"That spear is... Almost a wedding gift of sorts to him from Dream Step," Agate frowned.
"Which is why Spear Throw said he'll fight tooth and hoof for it," Bramble nodded. "But if it gets Sure Strike to shut up, it'd be a loss he's willing to take."
"Wish I could just tell everyone involved to knock it off, but that's not the way the world works, unfortunately," Agate sighed with a roll of her eyes. "Spear Throw is an unknown and unproven outsider from another tribe, and he needs to do this himself. Even if ponies are losing respect for Sure Strike, he still needs to prove his mettle. Anything else might well give him a reputation of a weakling or a coward."
"That'd be a shame, since he seems pretty set on settling down in Foamy Rapids," Bramble nodded.
"Nothing to do but watch, then. And hope he succeeds."
Split Log came back with Spear Throw later in the day, with the rest of the family following soon after. They were very happy to see Agate, though the family were nervous when they heard just how many ponies from Spear Throw's extended family were planning to come to the wedding.
"Relax," Agate chuckled. "I warned them that your home is not nearly as big as Sea Gale's. They'll think of something."
The challenge was a topic they weren't all that keen to talk about, given that that was all they did for the past few days. Instead, they spent the evening discussing Spear Throw's family line and other things, going to sleep early to be well rested for tomorrow.
❅ ❆ ❅
Tomorrow came, as tomorrow always does. Agate went out to the field that was chosen for the challenge, scores of ponies lining the fringes. With so few things happening in winter, the sudden hubbub of a local that turned out to be a shamare after all, an outsider, and the traveler spirit herself showing up and causing a scene brought pretty much every single pony in the entire village out to witness the spectacle. Agate even saw several translucent forms of the local guardian spirits, sharing silent nods with them.
The first half of the challenge - the skill contest - was spear throwing, which obviously sounded like something Spear Throw would excel at. Catch was, spear throwing was the standard method for hunting yetis, since getting into reach of their long limbs was extremely dangerous. As such, Sure Strike was more than likely quite capable at it himself.
A dozen targets were set up across the field, at differing distances. They had varying difficulties, too - pairs of logs were jammed into the frozen ground, with bundles of hay tied to them that slowly decreased in size, until the last ones were nothing but a thin, bare log. The village elder provided the participants with two simple spears each, to make sure that they didn't have any unfair advantages or disadvantages from potentially bewitched weapons.
Both Sure Strike and Spear Throw inspected all four of the spears, nodding in agreement that they were suitable and all equal in quality. As they took their weapons and went towards the positions, Spear Throw glanced at the ice spear. As an agreed-upon prize of the challenge, it was standing on the edge of the field, the blunt end of it jammed into the snow.
"You might as well forfeit, pup. Spare yourself the embarrassment," Sure Strike grinned cockily.
"First you think threatening mares makes you brave, then you say that giving up without a fight is more embarrassing than doing your best and losing honorably? Dream Step is right, you truly are nothing but a blowhard," Spear Throw scoffed.
"Watch your tone with me, colt," The older stallion growled.
"Or what? You'll challenge me? Oh, wait, we're already doing that. If you're so good, then stop blabbering and get throwing."
Agate could see how hard Sure Strike was gritting his teeth, but Spear Throw was right. There was nothing for the arrogant stallion to do but participate in the challenge, or risk dishonoring himself in front of the entire village should he lose his composure and attack his opponent.
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
Both stallions struck true with their first spears without much preparation or aiming, as was expected for the first targets. Raising the second ones, they repeated the results once more, the spears joining the others in the hay. Trotting over, they retrieved their weapons, moving on to the smaller targets that were further away. Neither one of them said anything else any more, Spear Throw's expression one of grim determination, while Sure Strike's one was of anger and injured pride.
*THUMP*
*THUMP*
The rest of the challenge passed by in an almost complete silence, save for the final targets. The crowd didn't cheer or jeer either stallion, given that both of them demonstrated that the lower difficulty targets required almost no effort for them to hit. Once the stakes rose higher, though, murmurs began passing through the crowd. At the eleventh target, both stallions hit the targets once more, but Spear Throw didn't quite manage to hit it dead-on with his second spear. The weapon did stick in the hay, but it ended up barely hanging on at an awkward angle. Naturally, Sure Strike couldn't contain himself.
"Glancing blow, colt. Could mean your death out there."
"Mine, or the yeti's. The first spear struck true," Spear Throw shrugged indifferently.
Sure Strike huffed again, making Agate absently nod in approval. The older stallion was doing his best to rattle Spear Throw, but he either didn't let himself be affected by it, or at least didn't let it show. Verbally crushing your opponent's spirits before or during a challenge to throw them off certainly wasn't something unknown to the snowponies, but simply demonstrating to your challenger that their words meant absolutely nothing to you often had an equally powerful effect.
Catch was, Agate wasn't sure if Spear Throw was even doing it on purpose. As she considered the stallion, her thoughts went back to the first Spear Throw that she knew. He wasn't quite as stoic and disciplined as the old Spear Throw was, but he wasn't the type to allow his emotions to get the better of him, either.
Taking their positions, the stallions hefted their spears, aiming for the final target. Judging the distance for a few moments, they let loose almost simultaneously. This time, though, things didn't go as well for Spear Throw as they did before.
*THUMP*
*THWACK-FLOP*
While Sure Strike's spear struck true yet again, this time, Spear Throw's went too high, briefly stabbing into the very top of the bare log before its momentum dragged the shaft forward, yanking the tip out and depositing the weapon on the snow. Sure Strike smiled victoriously while Spear Throw pressed his lips together.
"Looks like I win, then."
"Hardly. We still have a throw each," Spear Throw corrected him, hefting his spear thoughtfully.
"And? Do you really think I'll miss?" Sure Strike scoffed.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I will not take such an easy shot, though," Spear Throw shrugged, turning around and trotting further away from the target.
"Easy- What are you doing, you buffoon?! If you wish to forfeit, then say so!" Sure Strike yelled as the crowd broke out in confused mutters.
"I underestimated my strength, so the throw went high," Spear Throw shrugged again, trotting out so far that he left the field completely. "This should make it better."
"That's too far for anyone to even reach the target! Are you completely out of- Then again, who am I to tell you not to make a fool of yourself? Go ahead," Sure Strike laughed, throwing his spear and hitting the target dead-on once again.
*THUMP*
Sure Strike watched with utter disbelief as the spear that sailed out from behind him arced perfectly, landing square in the middle of the log, the strength of the throw almost dislodging the target from the ground, the heavy log keeling over at a sharp angle. Spear Throw had just made a throw that he himself said was impossible, and that was not missed by the crowd of onlookers, a number of impressed ponies breaking out into cheers and stomps of approval.
"That- That does not matter! He still missed a throw! I won!" He sputtered.
"I am tempted to call this a draw," The elder mused, thoughtfully stroking his beard.
"That's not how this works! The best aim-"
"Did you not himself say that the throw he made was impossible, Sure Strike? He struck with strength and precision," The elder shrugged, thoughtfully analyzing Spear Throw as the younger stallion made his way to retrieve his spears.
"Fine. Fine. Not like this matters in the slightest," Sure Strike grumbled, though his tone betrayed his supposed indifference. "This was just a warm-up anyway. A way to let the colt know who he's dealing with, and let him trot away before it's too late. The fight will not be a game, though. I will not hold back. Hear that, pup? Leave now, and spare yourself the injuries."
"More coward talk?" Spear Throw replied simply, staring Sure Strike down.
"Oh, that is it. I'll enjoy beating some respect into you," Sure Strike spat, angrily stomping towards the middle of the field.
Once again, they were given weapons, though they were not immediately lethal ones this time. Instead of spears, they were staffs, with the same weight and length as spears, just without the actual spearheads. Testing their strength, the stallions both nodded before stepping into a large circle roughly marked out in the snow.
"Last chance," Sure Strike hissed.
"Surrender, then, if you're so afraid of me," Spear Throw growled.
"Raaaagh!"
With that, the fight was on. Sure Strike wasted no time in charging at Spear Throw, easily balancing his staff on his back and neck before rearing up and jabbing it at Spear Throw with his forelegs. The stallion dodged the first attack, but Sure Strike didn't give him a chance to counterattack, jabbing at him again and again.
Thus began the impressive dance of violence between two skilled opponents, the crowd holding their collective breaths as the stallions parried and lunged. It wasn't immediately obvious which one of them was going to win, which was exactly what created tension and excitement.
On one hoof, in such a match-up, just about everyone, including Agate herself, would have bet on Sure Strike. While he was older - somewhere in his late thirties or early forties, if Agate had to guess - that was not considered to be a detriment. In fact, such an age was considered to be the peak fighting years for warriors. Youthful vigor and strength were good, but any pony with at least a tiny bit of experience knew that older stallions just had this layer of grit and steely nerves built up around them, where an overconfident youth might freeze or panic at their first serious injury.
On the other hoof, Spear Throw had one distinct advantage, one that he demonstrated in the first challenge. Simply put, the stallion was stacked. He spent the entire season paddling, pulling heavy wagons filled with soil, and generally engaging in hard, physical labor practically non-stop. While that meant that his reflexes and aim weren't quite as honed as Sure Strike's were, he had brute force in spades. Only time would tell if that was enough to overcome his opponent, though.
"Gragh!"
It didn't look like it was going too well for the younger stallion. He kept dodging and blocking, but his own jabs kept missing, while Sure Strike kept managing to find holes in his defense, hitting him with the blunt tip of the staff again and again, finally striking a blow on a vital area. Spear Throw coughed and hacked as Sure Strike jabbed him right in the throat, taking in big breaths as he stumbled back. Sure Strike immediately took advantage of his weakness, slamming the staff on Spear Throw's head.
It was a good blow, splitting Spear Throw's eyebrow and making a small trickle of blood flow down his face, the stallion hissing and dropping his weapon in shock. And in other circumstances, this well might have been the blow that ended the fight. Sure Strike clearly thought so, jumping forward with a victorious neigh, expecting to be able to once again pummel his opponent without giving him a chance to counterattack.
It was not to be, however. With a neigh of his own, Spear Throw jumped forward at his charging opponent as well, using his left foreleg to slam one end of Sure Strike's staff into the ground, grabbing the other end with his right foreleg. As the stallions collided, he forcefully brought his forelegs together, bending the staff towards Sure Strike. As it bent and split in two, the splintered ends happened to point at Sure Strike's chest, Spear Throw immediately stabbing the other stallion.
"Argh!"
It was a superficial wound, to say the least, but it did distract the older stallion, both of them jumping backwards to reassess the situation. Sure Strike yanked out a long shard of wood out of his chest with a grimace, while Spear Throw coughed and caught his breath. His staff was lying a small distance away, but it was just a touch further than Sure Strike was, so retrieving it without getting hit from behind was out of the question.
Losing one's weapon did not mean that the fight was over, though. While her memories were fuzzy, Agate could still recall the incredibly formal jousting tournaments back in the Empire. A single pass, assess your weapon and see if it's broken, forfeit if you performed poorly, and so on. Meanwhile, that was not how snowponies did it at all. Ponies started the fight with whatever weapons they chose, but losing one and ending up unarmed was entirely their own problem. The fight would only end when one of them ended it.
With fierce snorts, the stallions charged again, puffs of steam briefly obscuring their faces as they kicked at each other. Spear Throw was more badly injured than Sure Strike, but it was clear that the pain only made him all that more determined and angry, rather than afraid. And this time, he was the one with an advantage.
For all his precision and speed, Sure Strike couldn't overcome Spear Throw's strength and endurance. Spear Throw batted his hooves aside, punching the other stallion in the face again and again, disorienting him and making him stumble back. Taking a step back himself, he charged at his challenger, slamming into him and wrenching him off his hooves completely.
With the older stallion on the ground, it was all but over, and unlike Spear Throw, Sure Strike did not manage to recover and fight back. Spear Throw mercilessly pummeled him, Sure Strike screaming out in rage and fear, his uncoordinated retaliatory blows becoming weaker and weaker. Eventually, Spear Throw grabbed him by his mane, and began forcefully smashing his face into the frozen ground. After a good half a dozen thumps, Spear Throw lifted Sure Strike's head up, glaring at the stallion, who was now bleeding from his nose.
"You.... *cough* Are... Beaten..." Spear Throw croaked, his voice pained.
"N-never! I Will not- Whagh!"
Sure Strike tried to grab Spear Throw by the neck, but he didn't let him. Slamming his face into the ice once more, the younger stallion huffed angrily.
"Then I'll - *cough* keep beating you- *cough, hack*," Spear Throw wheezed furiously, still pounding Sure Strike's head.
"Enough! Enough, I say!" The elder shouted, hobbling towards the two fighters. "I'd say that it is plenty clear who won this challenge. There is no need for maiming or murder to prove your point."
"Tell him... To... Yield," Spear Throw breathed angrily, grabbing the still-struggling Sure Strike and choking him.
"You heard him, Sure Strike. You are at his mercy. Cease this pointless struggle. You're only embarrassing yourself. The young colt won," The elder frowned.
Sure Strike struggled for a few more moments before finally going limp. Spear Throw unceremoniously dropped him, the older stallion taking in big gulps of air. Standing up, Spear Throw swayed for a moment before shaking his head and carefully brushing the blood from his eye. Without so much as a word to his opponent or a glance backwards, he trotted towards the edge of the field. Retrieving his ice spear, he hefted it in his hoof before rearing up and raising it upwards with a victorious whinny.
The crowd exploded in cheers and stomps, shouting and whistling in approval. Though their local champion had been defeated, it was done in an honorable challenge that he himself issued, and Spear Throw had acquitted himself well. Dream Step galloped over, jumping into a fierce hug before fussing over her stallion's injuries.
"You're bleeding. That bastard made you bleed..."
"Relax. They're just scratches. We can clean them up when we get home," Spear Throw reassured her.
"Scratches can still get inflamed and foul. We will clean and dress them, no matter how small, got it?"
"Of course, dear."
"Outstanding fight, son," Split Log patted him on the back, his eyes faintly moist with pride. "It looks like my daughter really knows how to choose a stallion."
"I just hope that this is finally going to be the end of this stupid feud," Raspberry sighed.
"It will," Agate reassured the mare. "Unless your village lives by completely opposite laws and traditions than the ones by which the rest of the tribes do, which I doubt."
Just then, Sure Strike angrily stomped over to them, the elder following behind him. His nose was still bleeding, and he had a wild look in his eyes. He breathed angrily, though he didn't seem sure of what to even say. Losing clearly rattled him, and it was quite clear that he didn't even consider such an eventuality. The elder nodded towards Dream Step, giving her a questioning look.
"So then. I would say that, one way or another, this strange disagreement between the two of you is quite soundly concluded, is it not?"
"I would say so," Dream Step scoffed. "The "disagreement" was only ever one sided, you know. But I'll be happy to never have to listen to this fool again."
"You-!" Sure Strike began angrily, only to get a hoof shoved in his muzzle by Spear Throw.
"Did you forget our agreement? Win or lose, you never talk to Dream Step again. So shut your mouth or I will shut it for you," He said coldly.
"I WOULD NOT HAVE DIED!!!" Sure Strike howled suddenly, flecks of spit and blood flying in every direction. "I am Sure Strike! The greatest hunter of the land! I never miss! I would not have died because some... Some delusional filly had a bad dream!"
"...I barely even know what you're talking about," Spear Throw replied dispassionately. "And honestly, I don't even care in the slightest. I only care about you bothering my pregnant mare. One hunter to another, though? We all die eventually, and never missing won't save you if you're not aware enough of your surroundings, or for dozens of other reasons. Either way, we are done here. You will stop bothering Dream Step, or I will drag you out of the village and throw you in the forest to be with the yetis you know so well."
"You don't get to tell me what to do in my own village, colt! You-"
I beat you in a challenge that you issued, so yes, that's exactly what I get to do," Spear Throw hissed angrily, his hackles rising.
"He's right, Sure Strike," The elder shrugged. "You staked your honor on this. If you break the agreement and harass Dream Step again, then Spear Throw will have every right to put you in your place."
"Put me- Elder! I hunted dozens of yetis! Protected Foamy Rapids for decades! Mares, foals, and stallions could sleep soundly because of my skill! And now you're taking the side of an outsider that breezed in here barely a few weeks ago?!" Sure Strike protested, his voice full of outrage.
"Yes, you did do all those things," The elder replied, furrowing his brows. "But what good is a stallion that protects our mares from yetis, and then attacks those pregnant mares himself? Spear Throw speaks the truth. You issued the challenge. You agreed to the terms. And if you break them, then you will be an honorless coward. Dream Step is a local herself, and she has every right to be here, especially now. Especially now that we know she is, in fact, a shamare."
"I... I..." Sure Strike tried to think of something, but it was clearly in vain.
"Let it go, colt," The elder sighed. "You're only making more of a fool of yourself with every word you say."
Sure Strike opened and closed his mouth a few more times, but no words came out. Without another sound, he turned around and immediately trotted away, the crowd talking about the whole thing with low voices and giving Dream Step and Spear Throw curious, calculating looks.
"Alright, that's enough of that," Dream Step declared. "We're going home, and getting you patched up. Let's go."
❅ ❆ ❅
The next few days had both more and less excitement than the previous one. While no one else challenged Spear Throw to any more fights, Split Log and Raspberry couldn't really hold themselves back from having a little celebration, inviting a bunch of friends and distant relatives from the village to meet their future son in law.
Lots of ponies came, both invited and uninvited, for all sorts of reasons. Some wanted to talk to and congratulate Spear Throw on his impressive combat prowess, discussing the fight in excited voices. Others came to apologize to Dream Step, the ponies having supported Sure Strike in the past. Some were curious about her shamaric magic, inquiring about what sorts of things she could do and what services she was willing to provide. Some came to congratulate her on the pregnancy, bringing her small gifts and bits of advice. Some were curious about Agate's involvement, asking the spirit whether this was some kind of small part of a much bigger adventure.
It took a few weeks for the hubbub to completely die down. Once it did, they finally heard something about Sure Strike. The stallion didn't cloud any of the gatherings with his presence, and they soon found out why.
"Left, huh," Dream Step mused.
"Yes. Sold off everything he couldn't carry and moved away. In the dead of winter, no less," Split Log shook his head.
"I just don't understand why he had so much support among the locals, enough to turn a number of them against Dream Step. He was nothing but an obnoxious loudmouth," Spear Throw asked no one in particular.
"Because that's all you knew of him," Agate explained. "Remember his little speech to the elder. He was - still is - a capable hunter, and he did protect the village and clear out the forests from dangerous predators. And while he did that, I'm assuming that no one minded his excessive bragging too much. It's his right if he's that good, yes? That's the thing with bad ponies - they're never really... No, they're almost never simply outright completely evil, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever. No, he was a faithful protector, even if he did it to stroke his own pride rather than out of a genuine concern for the wellbeing of the village. That doesn't give him any right to act like a foal in other situations, though. If he reined his arrogance in just a touch, none of this would have happened."
"Hrm. True. He was quite good with a spear. I wouldn't have minded learning a thing or two from him. Oh well. What's done is done," Spear Throw shrugged.
"Yes. That is all in your past now. Focus on your future. You have a completely new territory to adapt to and a new village to find your place in, and a foal coming in the near future," Agate nodded.
And that was that. No one talked about Sure Strike any more, the stallion barely getting mentioned in the next few days before getting deliberately forgotten about. No gossip or musings about where he went were shared around by anyone. It was an unusual, but vital adaptation in an environment where windigoes could theoretically show up at any moment.
While they always worked to solve interpersonal issues first and foremost, sometimes, ponies just ended up at odds for seemingly no apparent reason. If something like the challenge between Spear Throw and Sure Strike happened, where a bystander couldn't easily tell who was the instigator, things like this tended to happen.
Instead of taking sides and letting the hatred fester and build up, one of the ponies would often leave silently, sometimes with, and sometimes without a challenge preceding their exit. The villagers that they left would do their best to remove the pony from their thoughts, even if said pony did something bad, lest those thoughts manifest into something worse. And the pony that left was expected to do the same, letting go of any grudges towards those that they left behind. And if they did not, nature would more than likely take its course soon enough.