Night fell over the blue expanse of sea below, Luna's moon overtaking the setting sun. A pale azure light graced the water, a vista that finally brought a sense of calm over the monochromatic mare's rapidly beating heart. Daring Do continued to stare out the window, even after her grave statement. Silence had fallen for a moment or two while the yellow mare mulled over what her friend had said. Even in her attempt to play off Daring's fear as a mere formality, Day Break seemed to have nothing to respond with. The bright pegasus laid back in her seat, her limbs still crossed but now lacking their relaxed demeanor. She frowned toward the ceiling, her head leaning on the wall behind her.
Daring sighed, rising to her haunches and picking up the white pith hat from the hook on the wall next to her. She held it in her forehooves, looking the item over with a sense of longing. It was a gift from long ago, a hat left to her in her father's passing. His death was by Ahuitzotl's design, although inadvertently. But even if the trap hadn't been specifically made for her parents, Daring still felt a rage she had put away long ago; a need for vengeance that she could never satisfy. His imprisonment had indeed been her doing, but was it truly enough? Did that monster not deserve to die for his crimes against her family? Their deaths were nothing personal, but it sure did feel like that to the mare that had been forced to live without them.
"Ya' know, you're gonna have to elaborate on that last comment sometime this century," came Day Break's voice, her tone exasperated.
"He's real, that's all there is to it," Daring replied flatly, her eyes still on the pith hat in her hooves.
"Okay, yeah, I get it. Ahuitzotl isn't some storybook villain trying to take over the world with some sort of blundering scheme or something," the yellow mare said, waving her forehooves around sarcastically to emphasize her words. "But you need to give me details as to why you turn into such a scared little schoolfilly at the mere mention of his name. I've been trying to get this outta you for years, so spill it already!"
Daring immediately tightened her grip on the pith hat, more to steady her hooves than anything. She looked up to Day Break, her rose eyes half-lidded with fatigue. "I am afraid of him because of what he is; a beast-"
"Alright, but-"
"Darn it! Will you just shut up and let me talk?!" the dark mare snapped, her voice cracking on the last word. The yellow pegasus' brow flew up in shock. Daring scowled at herself for losing control again, biting her lip to keep her anger at bay. "I'm sorry...I...I'm just..."
"No, it's alright, Daring," Day Break replied, her voice softening instantly to a much warmer tone. She shifted her position on her seat, laying on her stomach with her forehooves draped over the edge of the chair. She looked at her friend with large, caring eyes; a complete contrast from only a moment earlier. "You don't have to tell me now. I'll find out when we get there. But for now, you really need to sleep."
"I told you that I can't," she said, her voice lowering as well. It was true; despite the fact that it had been days since she was able to rest, the pegasus simply couldn't find her mind at peace long enough to sleep through a single night. For hours now, Daring had been on the verge of passing out, her eyes heavy and her brain nauseous. If she had been able to eat anything, she was sure that her body would be rejecting it by now.
Day Break wore a sly smirk. "Would it help if I bopped you on the head so you could?"
"I'd like you a lot less," Daring remarked, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
"I'd be willing to risk that," she said matter-of-factly, as if her sarcasm were false. The monochromatic pony's lips curled into a genuine smile, something her muddled mind was elated to feel. Her heart finally slowed down a few beats, and her hooves stopped shaking. Her friend seemed to notice her change in demeanor, sighing through her nose.
"So how are you gonna tell him when we get back?" she asked.
Daring went to react with confusion, but knew that it wouldn't throw her perceptive friend off in the least. "Which part? That I'm sorry for leaving for so long or that I'm still confused?"
"Chuh! Confused my flank! Every time we talk about that stallion you go redder than a...look! You're doing it now!"
The pegasus' eyes widened as she was forced to notice a sensation of heat rise to her face. Daring quickly looked away out of pure reflex, much to Day Break's amusement. The yellow mare burst into a small fit of giggles, instilling a facetious scowl from Daring. "Okay, okay, fine."
"Wow," Day Break laughed, wiping her eye with a hoof. "this pony sure must have quite the hold on you. Why haven't you told me about him yet?"
Daring exhaled, knowingly beaten. She let the blush on her cheeks remain, looking back to her friend. "Because I knew you'd make fun of me for it."
"Well, yeah. That's a given." Day Break smirked with a shrug. "But seriously, what's this Braeburn like? I've never seen you so flustered about another pony like this before."
The archaeologist smiled at that. Perhaps she let too much of her feelings show. Either that, or the stallion from Appleloosa simply brought it out in her, even after not seeing him for so long. She remembered all too well of the emotions that he seemed to stir in her, even just by smiling at her. "There's a million things about him that I could name off," she finally started, fondness in her voice. "But the one thing about him that stands out the most is that he's...well, different."
"Different?" Day Break repeated, genuinely confused.
"Yeah," Daring smiled. "Everything about him can be traced back to that one word. He's nothing like any pony that I've ever met before. He's kind, caring, brave, sincere, completely selfless..."
She trailed off, her voice cracking slightly as her sentence dwindled out into silence. She could have spent an hour reciting all the words that described her memory of Braeburn, but it still would never compare to simply meeting him. The simple farmpony could have been perceived as nothing special; a workhorse that lived on an apple farm. However, Daring Do was lucky enough to know him very well before they were even properly introduced. She would never forget the day when her life was saved by the beige earth pony that came out of nowhere. The pegasus had stared down the barrel of a rifle, her entire being merely accepting death then and there. What else could she have done, with nopony else around to help her in time? But of course, Braeburn Apple was the one to stop her attacker.
That was but one of the slew of memories that Daring Do treasured the most, the rest based around the farmpony as well. She allowed her mind to drift off into a trance, dictated solely on her longing to see the stallion once again. Day Break seemed to grow weary of her silence, and impatiently tapped a hoof on the coffee table between them.
"Why you daydreaming little schoolfilly," she remarked, grinning at her.
"Alright, fine," the dark mare admitted. "Maybe I was daydreaming...a little."
"Uh huh," Day Break agreed with a slow nod. "It's amazing that you only hung around him for about a week, and yet you're all mushy every time I mention his name. Did something happen that you haven't told me yet?"
Daring laughed at what her friend could have been insinuating, but simply answered: "Sometimes all a pony needs is a few days to make such a profound impact on you."
"Okay, one more question," Day Break asked, sidestepping the other mare's seemingly prolific statement. "Don't take this the wrong way here, but...how do you know that he still feels the same way about you? I mean...it's been a really long time, Daring."
The dark pegasus could only smile wearily at that; a question that would have normally knocked her off the narrow line of equilibrium she was currently teetering on. It was a somber thought, yes, but ultimately one that definitely needed an answer. It had been over a year since she had last seen him; more than enough time for either of them to simply move on. But for whatever reason, Daring Do simply couldn't forget about him. She had left to find herself; to accept her past and see what kind of pony she really was. She had even told Braeburn to wait for her; an utterly selfish thought in hindsight. The pegasus hadn't planned to be out of touch for so long. While the amount of time was never defined, she had only expected to be gone a few months at the most. For all she knew, the stallion could have found somepony else in her absence. She couldn't have imagined it being difficult; Braeburn was a handsome stallion. It wouldn't take much for some mare to trot over and show interest.
Daring shook that unpleasant thought from her head, her subconscious trying to simply focus on her feeling for him. It was truly awe-inspiring, even to her, just how prevalent her infatuation for him still was. Her feelings had never faltered in the time of their separation. In fact, they had somehow strengthened even. Like she had told the pegasus across from her: it was simply the impact Braeburn had made on her. She knew that she would never find another pony like him, and that she wouldn't even want to try a relationship with anypony else.
"Well...I don't know," Daring finally said, the small smile still on her face. "I guess I'll just have to keep to the code of the archaeologist."
Day Break grinned, although incredulously. "Faith, huh?"
"It hasn't let me down yet," the archaeologist said simply, exhaling a deep breath through her nose. The mare felt her chest loosen, her nerves calming down as fatigue finally took its long awaited course. Her heavy eyelids had started to flicker downward, her brain activity slowing. "We'll just get to the ruins tomorrow, help the unicorns perform the Sealing Spell, and get back on the airship and go home."
"Nothing to worry about, right?"
"Nothing at all."
At Daring's confirmation, the bright yellow mare climbed down from her seat, stretching once she stood up straight again. She extended her long, nimble wings, cracking them in a few places after relaxing for so long. When she was satisfied that her limbs were loose enough, the pegasus strode over to her friend, pushing her forcibly off her seat with her forehead. Daring complied, although not without a disapproving glare. Day Break guided her to one of the two fold-out cots on the other side of the cabin, silently directing her to take one. The darker mare crawled atop the bed on the right, wearily removing her shirt before slouching underneath the thick layers of sheets and blankets. She tossed the garment haphazardly next to the bed, atop the overflowing bag of clothes and supplies.
After she was comfortable on her side, Daring let her head fall to the soft pillow, looking up at the other pegasus. Day Break was in the middle of walking away, but noticed Daring's thankful expression. The yellow mare nodded once with an understanding grin, turning off the lamp with a click.
Braeburn trotted up the shallow steps and onto the rickety floorboards of the platform, sighing in relief to find that he hadn't missed the train quite yet. In a rush, the stallion clumsily gave the ticket pony ten bits for his pass, galloping into the car just as the conductor bellowed out the last call. He was immediately greeted with several odd looks as he skidded on his hooves into the car, almost colliding into an older mare trying to take her seat. Braeburn grinned bashfully, attempting to hide his face with the brim of his hat. The cabin was half-empty, only holding a couple of ponies here and there. One or two gave him a polite smile, while the rest looked at him with extreme caution and worry. It took a moment for Braeburn to realize that they were all staring at the weapon on his back; Thumper's rear stock protruding from behind his left shoulder.
But before he could say a word to quell their fears, a heavy prod was felt on his shoulder. The riflepony turned to his right, finding a tall, foreboding stallion. He wore a blue vest; signalling his employ as a security guard. "Permit," he said simply, holding out a hoof. Braeburn nodded quickly, digging into the inner pocket of his duster and withdrawing a yellow slip of parchment that bore his name, address and weapon ownership details. The stallion nodded once, gesturing for him to take his seat. Braeburn pocketed his permit, pacing down the aisle toward the rear of the car.
Most of the passengers were obvious out-of-towners, a few of them cradling rifles in their laps. Braeburn sighed inwardly. He felt bad for the ponies unable to finish the competition, as well as the ones that lost early on. He didn't recognize anypony as he trotted down the aisle, and merely gave them a polite smile as he passed. But when he came to the end of the car, Braeburn was spotted by a face that he definitely remembered.
From a booth on the left came a small head of brown pigtails, bangs swaying carelessly across the brow of a white filly. Her large blue eyes widened at the sight of him, a small grin forming on her face. "Oh! Mister Apple!"
Braeburn snorted, allowing himself a smile at the filly. He approached her booth, finding that her parents were occupying it as well. The three pegasi beamed at the riflepony, their smiles large and their eyes bright.
"Why hello there, Miss Ace," he replied, his tone brighter than with their previous encounter. He tipped his hat to her parents, for their names were unknown to him. Their luggage was stuffed into the overhead compartments, save for Aerial's rifle, leaning on the wall in the corner of the booth near the window. "Ya'll are off to Dodge?"
"Yeah," Aerial answered immediately. "there isn't a line that goes to Los Pegasus until Wednesday, but there's one in Dodge Junction that we're hoping to catch tomorrow."
"Either that or we fly through the San Palomino Desert," her father chimed in, "and that's not exactly ideal."
"Everypony take your seats, please," came the security guard's gruff voice from the front of the train car. Aerial's mother scooted toward the window, opening a seat in their booth.
"Why don't you sit with us?" asked the mare, gesturing to the seat she had opened up. "It would be nice to get to know the stallion our daughter won't stop talking about."
"Mom!" the white filly hissed, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Braeburn chuckled to himself, thanking the pegasi for their generosity. He sat down next to the light-beige mare, whom took his saddlebags for him, placing them in the corner. Thumper, however, leaned on his other side in its scabbard. Aerial seemed to shake the tinge from her face as her eyes focused with wonder on the Marechester.
"So what's in Dodge for you...um, Mister Apple?" asked Aerial's father.
The riflepony smirked, holding out his hoof to the stallion across from him. "Ya'll can call me Braeburn."
The pegasus smiled in return. "Nice to meet you, Braeburn. I'm Vapor Trail, and this is my wife, Autumn Breeze."
Braeburn nodded and shook both of their hooves. Minding his manners, he removed the Stetson from his head, placing it on the back of the booth. The doors to the train car closed with a loud thunk, and he felt the cabin shift around him. Slowly but surely, the locomotive lurched forward, the cogs below driving them forward. The passengers settled into their booths as they departed the station, the buildings of Appleloosa crawling by as they accelerated. When a few moments passed by, Braeburn realized that he still hadn't answered Vapor's question. The stallion snapped to attention, putting aside his worries for the time being.
"Oh, right," the earth pony chuckled, deciding to keep his next words vague. "There's just a few things Ah need'ta take care of in Dodge."
"Oh? Does their sheriff need help too?" Autumn smiled, her facetious question clearly not intended to offend him nor Silverstar's job. The pegasus, however, did not know of Goldstar's serious condition. She couldn't be blamed, so Braeburn merely grinned as if he knew nothing.
"Heh, hopefully not," he said meekly, brushing his bangs from his eyes. He noticed that the entire time they exchanged pleasantries, the filly's eyes had been drifting between him and the sheathed Marechester on his right. Braeburn smiled, asking what was on her mind with a quirk of his brow.
"Um, Braeburn?" she asked, sitting on her haunches, fiddling with her own forehooves. "Is that really...Thumper?"
"Ya' know its name?"
"Well, yeah," Aerial answered. "I've read a lot about you, and...well, I've always wanted to meet you."
"What she's trying to say, is that she's your biggest fan," Vapor Trail interjected with a smirk, receiving a "Dad!" in response. Braeburn could only hold his smile, flattered that even ponies from outside of town praised his good deeds, let alone somewhere far off like Los Pegasus. "Ever since she read an article about you, it was nothing but competition shooting."
"Well, I just wasn't interested in Weather Patrol," Aerial said.
"No, you weren't," her mother replied with only a halfhearted smile. Braeburn glanced around the booth, spotting the couple's weather-related cutie marks. It appeared that particular line of work ran in the family, and Aerial Ace seemed to defy that. Her cartridge-emblazoned flanks proved that. It warmed his heart knowing that his deeds had inspired this filly's special talent. "But it seems that you've found your own path."
"Ah reckon so," Braeburn agreed, looking to the white pegasus across from him. "Ya' sure out-shot everypony to the end there, Aerial. Ah've never seen nothin' quite like that. You've got a real talent, ya' know."
"There you go, honey," Autumn chimed in, her elegant lashes fluttering. "Even the Colt of the West thinks you're talented. Now that's something to be proud of."
Aerial Ace was speechless. Her face had flushed again, her eyes wide with bewilderment. She smiled, meekly rubbing her foreleg with a hoof as her gaze fell to the floor. "Thank you," she said quietly, instilling a chuckle from her father. Vapor ruffled her mane, her brown pigtails flicking behind her head.
As the evening drew on and the moon grew higher, the conversation had become more comfortable. The family of pegasi had proved to be very warm and quick to accept a new friend. They spoke of their life in Los Pegasus, and asked about Braeburn's in Appleloosa. Aerial Ace seemed to be a veritable fountain of questions, all about the riflepony's shooting prowess. She seemed to look at him like some sort of superhero, as if everything he said carried a divine weight to it. He even allowed her to hold Thumper, after he unloaded it of course. In return, Braeburn took a look at her own rifle.
It was unlike any Marechester he had ever seen before. The receiver was a normal size, the blued finish still fresh from the evidently recent manufacture. But the barrel, as well as the rear stock had been shortened dramatically, more than likely to accommodate a smaller pony such as Aerial. He noticed a fine line between the front of the receiver and the base of the barrel; indicating that it was a takedown model. From what he learned in the past year from his father, such features were incredibly rare and expensive. Another thing that he learned was that Oliver Marechester never made a Model 1892 chambered for the .357 Magnum. Braeburn voiced his queries of the gun, after he failed to spot a serial number, model or even a manufacturer stamp.
"Well, that's because it's not a Marechester," said Aerial matter-of-factly. "They tend to be...expensive. Dad's friend is an up-and-coming gunsmith. Ponies nowadays want to get their hooves on a Marechester, but not everypony has the bits for them. So he decided to make not just remakes of them, but ones chambered for a whole slew of rounds, including ones that they didn't originally come in. Same goes with the features, so we were able to get a takedown model so when I'm older, I can put a longer barrel and butt-stock on it. Palo is a smart pony; he charges about two thirds of the cost of the original Manchesters."
"And your compadre makes these guns?" asked Braeburn, his bewildered gaze directed toward Vapor.
"He's a friend from college, actually," Vapor replied. "His name is Palomino Auberti. He was an Equestrian History Major, fascinated with the Old West. So since then he studied, built his company and boom; gave little Aerial here one of the first 1892's from the prototype production line, hence why it doesn't have any manufacturer's stamp."
"Must be worth quite a lot th-"
Braeburn's sentence was cut off by the gasps of the passengers near the front of the train car, attracting his full attention. Aerial and her parents whipped their heads around as well, attempting to find the source of everypony's evident fear. It only took a moment before Braeburn's ears pricked up to a pounding sound coming from the ceiling, traveling toward the rear of the car. They were hooves, galloping at a steady pace. The beige earth pony grimaced, dread creeping in his veins. His eyes immediately found the large security guard, whom was investigating the sound with his head out one of the booth windows toward the front. He arched his thick neck upward, unable to see the speeding blur of dark blue, darting through the air outside.
Braeburn cried out a warning as he got to his hooves and galloped over, however in vain. The blur caught the muscular stallion by the neck, tearing him out of the train car through the small window. Overtaking the cries of fear and outrage from the passengers was the agonized scream of the security guard. Before anypony knew it, his large form was tumbling in a shadow-covered ditch to the left of the tracks, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the night. From the booth that the earth pony previously occupied came a high-pitched gasp from Aerial Ace. Braeburn scowled as he immediately whipped his body around, taking Thumper's scabbard by the strap and throwing the sheathed rifle over his back. All eyes were on him now; the riflepony about to take control of the situation.
"Braeburn, wait!" came Aerial's voice. The earth pony gave her a sidelong glance as he filled Thumper's tubular magazine to capacity. The filly jumped to the floor on hindhooves, reaching over for her Auberti rifle. Braeburn stopped her before her parents could, catching her hoof with one of his own.
"Ya'll take cover down here. Ah don't want any o' ya' to get hurt," he demanded, repeating himself to the rest of the passengers: "Everypony hunker down in yer booths and stay there! Hooves and heads inside and nowhere else!"
Without so much as a backward glance, Braeburn galloped toward the back of the train car. He grabbed the handle of the rearward door and slid it open with a grunt. The cold night air hit him instantly, the sound of the cogs and the engine ahead growing louder. In front of him was the caboose, its end platform only mere hooves away from their car's. Throwing all caution to the wind, he turned on a hoof and climbed the ladder next to the door. He kept his ears up, defying the wind that was blowing his mane back. As he ascended the upper steps of the ladder, he slowed his pace and allowed his eyes to sweep the skies above.
He saw nothing but the stars and the moon, illuminating the vast expanse of desert that the train was speeding through. To his disdain and fear, he couldn't pick up the thump of hooves nor the fluttering of wings. Braeburn stopped with the top of his head nearly level with the steel roof of the train car. The attacker was waiting for him somewhere, ready to pounce when he came into view, if he wasn't already. Unable to find another choice, Braeburn heaved himself upward, rolling onto the crowned expanse of metal. But not even a second after his ascension, the wind was knocked out of his lungs.
Something very fast and very powerful caught him by the chest, throwing the earth pony bodily through the air. With a heaving cough, Braeburn flew over the gap between the two cars, landing at a tumble across the roof of the caboose. His reflexes screamed at him to roll to his hooves, but the howling winds and vibrations of the steel shook him from his stance, only lengthening his distance of faltering. His limbs flailed, forehooves digging into the top of the caboose as he spotted his rifle flying away from him. The impact threw his weapon to the front of the car, the strap of the scabbard hooking around a smoke-billowing steel cylinder protruding from the corner of the rooftop.
He wearily stood to his hooves, throwing his mane from his face as he spotted the pegasus land on the passenger car ahead. The stallion didn't have any discerning features, save for his dark colors and dull-toned eyes. He wore a short, black mane, ruffled by the cold night air. He wielded no sort of weapon; only four heavy-duty boots strapped around his hooves and legs, a thick layer of rubber on their undersides. The earth pony's breaths came in short, haggard bursts, his chest throbbing in pain. His weakened right foreleg threatened to buckle underneath him, but he locked his elbow to prevent faltering.
"Where is the book?!" the pegasus bellowed over the wind, his gray eyes narrowed on him. Braeburn cocked an eyebrow through his scowl, as if he hadn't understood what the pegasus had said.
"Yer workin' for Sure Shot, right?" he asked. "Where is he?"
"That's none of your concern," the other stallion barked, anger arising in his barely-visible expression. "Tell me where the book is, or I'll do to you what I did to that last stallion."
Impatience coated the pegasus' words, which were quick and loud, as if he were in a hurry to accomplish his goal. Braeburn, however, was completely unaware of what he was talking about. A book? What kind of book would Sure Shot want? He was certain that he was working for the bandit leader, that much was obvious. That alone was enough for the riflepony to stop the pegasus, not to mention that he may have just killed the train's security guard.
Thumper had slid down the chimney as the caboose hit a bump, distracting him from his attacker. Even in that fraction of a second, he never saw the swift movement of midnight blue in front of him until the very last instance. His reaction time had been put to the test as Braeburn dipped down to the roof of the caboose. However, he didn't have enough time to completely dodge the attack. The earth pony's shoulder was clipped by the speeding pegasus, throwing his body into a horizontal spin above the steel rooftop. His vision blurred as the world spun around him, taking a moment to find himself skidding across the top of the car on his hooves. He couldn't tell if his landing was mere chance or reflex, but didn't have the time to speculate as he spotted the pegasus recovering in the air above, darting toward him with a mighty flap of his wings. But this time, the earth pony had time to plan his next move; to counter the attack. The blue stallion bolted downward, his forehooves outstretched and his eyes narrowed. Braeburn's mind only had half a second to react, but it was more than his keen reflexes needed.
Braeburn tightened the muscles in his legs, attempting to push himself backward into the air. However, he neglected to take the slippery metal underhoof into account. His hindlegs slid out from underneath him, causing his evasion to be compromised. Once again, he felt the air leave his chest as he was struck with what felt like the business end of a wrecking ball. His body flew through the air like a rag doll toward the front of the train, taking what felt like an eternity for him to strike the roof of the second-to-last car. The earth pony's vision and hearing were momentarily taken away, amplifying the pain coursing through his torso. A metallic taste filled his mouth as blood flew from his lips. His shoulder collided with the steel of the roof, his body sliding against the cold wind. Time seemed to slow down as his limbs refused to move, fresh with shock from the impacts. Another bump in the tracks rolled him to his back just before two solid thumps resounded on either side of his head. Braeburn opened his eyes, spotting the pegasus' anger-contorted face inches from his own.
"Last chance, Apple," he growled. "Where. Is. The. Book?!"
The earth pony coughed, speckling the blue stallion's face with crimson. "Ah don't know what yer talkin' 'bout!"
A blaze coursed through Braeburn's mind, filling his body with a second wind. His anger negated the pain, and now fueled his movements. Before his attacker could so much as blink, Braeburn bucked his hips upward, throwing his body into a backward roll. He tucked his hindlegs close to his frame, only to let them loose on the pegasus' head. Braeburn's hindhooves exploded upward, crashing into the side of the stallion's skull with a triumphant roar. The blue pegasus was thrown toward the front of the car. Without looking at the condition of his attacker, Braeburn darted to the opposite end of the car, leaping over the gap and landing at a skid atop the caboose. He dove forward, his forehoof threading through the slack of his weapon's scabbard. In one smooth motion, he threw the sheath over his back as he stood to his hooves once again. He had no choice now: either he did what needed to be done, or his opponent would.
The riflepony tore Thumper out of its scabbard, racking the lever-action with a familiar flick of his wrist. As he reared onto his hindhooves, the gun's fractured forestock fell into his right hoof. He spotted the stallion flying toward him once again, this time through the iron sights of a powerful weapon. He had no decision to make this time; only action to take.
Two brass shells flew out of the top of Thumper's receiver, following two resounding explosions of gunpowder. Blood and feathers burst from either side of the speeding pegasus, eliciting a cry of agony and a compromised trajectory. The blue pony hit the top of the caboose, his momentum carrying him forward at a blinding pace. Braeburn sidestepped his body, hooking a foreleg around the pegasus' neck. The riflepony brought him up, slamming the pegasus onto his back with all his might. Thumper whirled around his hoof once again as he chambered a new round, engaging the hammer. The barrel of the weapon came to a halt, pressed into his attacker's neck. The pegasus grunted in pain, his face contorted with rage. Small pools of blood formed around his body, underneath what remained of his wings. Braeburn didn't look at the damage he had caused, but focused his unyielding gaze into the eyes of his victim.
"Where is Sure Shot?!" he roared into his face, his hoof wrapped around the trigger. "What's his plan and what book is he lookin' for?!"
"I don't know what he sees in you," the pegasus growled, his throat vibrating against the end of Thumper's barrel. "You ask such stupid questions, you know that?"
Braeburn pressed the rifle further into his neck, adrenaline still fresh in his mind. "Answer the question!"
The broken stallion wheezed, his eyes half-lidded as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. "Figure it out...yourself...Colt of the West..."
With a swift hoof, the blue pony swatted away the barrel of the rifle, rolling out of Braeburn's grasp. Before he could stop him, the pegasus rolled off the side of the roof, falling to the ground and tumbling into the darkness. The riflepony stared at the spot where he disappeared, his expression grave as he sheathed the rifle on his back. Braeburn let out a grunt, wincing as the pain returned to his chest. He stared into the darkness for a moment or two, his mind racing as he tried to put the pieces together.
"What're ya' after, Sure Shot?"