//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 - Zebra of a Different Stripe // Story: Fallout: Equestria - Deadlands // by Lycan_01 //------------------------------// Chapter 2 Zebra of a Different Stripe As the sun reached high noon above the Deadlands, gunfire echoed through the halls of a forsaken Sparkle Cola factory. The clatter of small arms was quickly replaced by the zapping of magical energy weapons, followed by terrified screams of a certain unicorn scavenger and his snarky merchant companion. Coyote hadn’t been joking when he told Rose she would be working with him until she could pay off her debt. She’d still felt rather awful about robbing him and costing him over two thousand caps, so she had shown very little opposition to the idea. Besides, the arrangement was rather beneficial to both of them beyond just paying back her debt. An assistant to help Coyote with his scavenging would be very useful, and Rose found herself with a guaranteed place to stay. Granted, that place was on Coyote’s sofa until she could afford a room of her own at the bar, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Though at the current point in time, as she and Coyote sprinted for their lives with a psychotic security robot right on their tails, Rose was having serious second thoughts about this arrangement. They’d only been working together for two days, and she was already about to die. The hovering robot was robot was comprised of a silver, spherical body sporting several mechanical limbs tapering off in claws, saws, and various weapons. It had three optical sensors mounted on stalk-like protrusions, and each of the “eyes” was glowing with a rather malicious-looking shade of red. “Surrender, trespassing Zebra scum! Justice shall be swift and painful!” its synthetic voice bellowed much too enthusiastically. “For the last time, we’re not Zebras!” Rose yelled back over her shoulder as the pair galloped for their lives. No matter how many corners they turned or doors they barreled through, the thing just wouldn’t give up its pursuit. And in their desperation to lose the security droid, the two ponies had managed to get lost in the ancient factory, with no idea where the exit was. “Less talking!” Coyote yelped. “More fleeing!” His horn flickered with an emerald glow, and a nearby door ripped off its hinges to levitate behind them as a wooden shield. However, whatever hopes of protection the door offered disappeared, along with the door itself, as the robot sprayed it down with a flamethrower. “Well shit!” Rose squealed in pain and terror as flames licked at the tip of her tail. “Think of something, you idiot!” Coyote’s eyes darted around the hallway, frantically searching for some sort of inspiration or idea. “Um, um, shit, um, uh…” he muttered, wracking his brain for some sort of plan. Another stray energy beam zipped past his ear and slammed into a vending machine up ahead, kicking off a flurry of sparks and globs of molten metal. As he watched the side of the beverage dispenser melt, an idea finally clicked in the scavengers head. “Excuse me!” he yelled back over his shoulder to the over-zealous guard. “Before you kill us, can we try some delicious Sparkle Cola?” The hovering robot metaphorically skidded to a stop in mid-air. “Oh! Would you like some free samples?” the construct asked with cheerful enthusiasm. Coyote’s hunch about the guard’s programming had been correct – ensuring customer satisfaction overrode murdering trespassers. Rose and Coyote managed to avoid tripping as they both halted their galloping and skid to a stop. “Why certainly!” Coyote beamed. “We’ll wait right here while you go fetch the tasty beverages for us.” The robot waved one of its claws in a friendly manner. “Alrighty. You two Zebra bastards don’t move a muscle, and I’ll be riiiiight back with your drinks and well-deserved deaths.” And with that, the security construct hovered off to find some fresh Sparkle Cola. The two ponies stood in the hallway in silence for several seconds, before Rose turned to whisper to Coyote. “Run?” He was already halfway out the building. Once they had a safe distance between themselves and the deathtrap soda plant, Coyote and Rose sat down to catch their breath. Rose also took the opportunity to start punching the stallion in the shoulder. “You stupid idiot! If you hadn’t started shooting, I could have tried reasoning with it!” “Ow, stop!” Coyote hissed, trying to bat her hooves away. He’d gone back to wearing his beloved vest and a blue undershirt, so he no longer had the luxury of armor or barding to protect him from Rose’s surprisingly painful blows. “Cut it out! Besides, the dumb robot was already in ‘rawr kill all Zebras!’ mode when I ~ow~ started shooting! Have you ever tried reasoning with ~ouch!~ a Mister Hoovesy when it’s in ‘murder everything’ mode? It doesn’t work!” Rose finally stopped hitting the scavenger, and turned away from him in a huff. “Fine. Whatever. What were we looking for in there, anyway?” Coyote had only told her they’d be going to an old factory he’d heard about, and that there were a few things in particular he wanted to look for. He hadn’t told her any of the specifics though, and she hadn’t cared enough about the junk to push the subject. But now that they’d almost been turned into glittering piles of ash over it, she was much more curious about their quarry. Coyote shrugged. “Well, I wanted to see if I could find some of those rarer bottles of the special Sparkle Cola flavors. Those things sell for a ton. Plus, some mule told me that if I could find a bottle cap press, he’d pay me-” Rose resumed beating the tar out of Coyote. “You fucking dumbass!” she barked, pummeling him with a flurry of blows to the shoulder. “A bottle cap press?! Do you know how fucking illegal those are to have, let alone sell?! You almost got us killed over that?!” Once again on the defensive, Coyote flinched away and tried to shield himself from her fury. “Ow! Fuck! Ow, stop! No, I didn’t know they were illegal! I barely know what the damn thing looks like, he just showed me some sketches! Shit, stop hitting me! What’s the big deal?!” The angry mare briefly paused in her assault to explain things to Coyote. “The big deal is that ponies who get involved with that stuff usually wind up getting their asses kicked, or worse! The bottle cap economy in most of the Wasteland, Deadlands included, is run by the bigger caravan companies and families. Ever wonder where new bottle caps come from, and where old, busted up ones go? Yeah. Them! So when some bozo starts cranking out new bottle caps, it screws up an already unstable economy. And when the caravan syndicates find out, they deal with that bozo through any means necessary. Usually involving Talon mercs and a few loads of buckshot! Sooo… Do you realize what all this means?” she asked with a falsely pleasant, patronizing smile. Coyote looked around uncertainly. “Um…” Rose grabbed the unicorn’s hat off his head, and smacked him across the face with it. “It means you’re an idiot!” With an angry snort, Coyote telekinetically reclaimed his hat and put it back atop his head, slotting his horn back through the gap in the brim. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know it was illegal, I didn’t know it would cause us so much trouble. I was just trying to get us some caps. I had no idea it was that big a deal, and I especially had no idea we’d end up with a fucking robo-guard on our asses for it.” “Apology accepted, I suppose,” Rose sighed. “Even if you did almost get me fried. Seriously,” she gestured to the singed tip of her tail, “Look how close that thing got to roasting me!” With a sigh and a shake of his head, Coyote turned to begin trotting back towards Wellspring. “Come on. We’ve got a few hours’ worth of trotting ahead of us. You can complain and hound me all you want on the way.” Rose took him up on that offer. Trotting along alongside him, she resumed berating the prospector. “And another thing! You left without me! I was standing there, wondering if it was safe to run or not, and when I turn around, you’re gone! Just ran off and left me to die, asshole!” Coyote sighed. “It’s gonna be a long trip…” “So what’s Manehatten like?” Coyote idly inquired. He and Rose were about halfway home, and were following along an old abandoned highway. Aside from pausing to check the occasional scorched hulk of an ancient carriage, the two didn’t really have much else to do to pass the time besides make small talk or play I Spy. And I Spy was extremely boring when being played in the middle of a desolate landscape. Rose shrugged. “It’s a ton of old buildings and deathtraps full of monsters, ghouls, and raiders. There are a few settlements, scav posts, and other little places where ponies live, and then there’s Tenpony Tower.” “Tenpony Tower? Oh, right, the place where DJ Pon3 broadcasts from,” the scavenger nodded along. Rose raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you listen to the DJ?” “Sometimes,” Coyote shrugs. “The reception down here is shit, but on a good day you can pick him up. I haven’t listened in awhile, though. I assume things are still pretty much the same though. Raiders makin’ folks miserable, that Red Eye fella building himself an empire on the backs of slaves, yadda yadda.” At the mention of Red Eye, Rose averted her gaze towards a rather fascinating rock. “Yeah, same old same old,” she muttered. A moment of silence passed, before Coyote returned the conversation to its original topic. “So, Manehatten’s pretty much a hellhole, huh?” “Hm?” Rose looked back to Coyote, slightly startled from her thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Lots of manticores. Bloodwings, too. Y’know, big nasty bats that-” “Oh, we’ve got bloodwings down here, too.” “Really? Shit,” Rose groaned. “I hate those things. So damn creepy.” “Do you have Cazadores up there?” Coyote inquired with a raised eyebrow. “The hell is a Castadoor?” “Caz-a-dor. Giant wasp,” the stallion replied with a shrug. “Very hostile, and very poisonous. And sometimes they lay eggs in their victim, and-” Rose blanched at the thought. “Stop,” she squeaked. “I get the picture. Castadoors equal really really bad. Understood.” “Also got geckos.” The merchant sighed. “What do they do, wear their victims skin or something fucked up like that?” Coyote smirked. “Nah, just a big ass lizard.” “Yaaaay.” “Yeah, they-” Coyote suddenly froze mid-stride, and narrowed his eyes. “Wait a sec.” “Hm? What is it?” Rose asked, slightly concerned by his change in demeanor. Coyote didn’t respond, instead crouching low and telekinetically pulling a pair of binoculars from his saddle bag. As he brought them up to his eyes, the merchant looked off in the direction he was observing. Further down the road she could see a small plume of smoke ascending into the cloudy sky. “What is that?” “Campsite,” Coyote muttered. “Somepony’s cookin’ over a campfire. They’re alone. Looks like they’re wearin’ a cloak, or something. I can’t really tell, but I don’t see weapons.” “Should we go around them or something?” Coyote stood up, and slid the binoculars back into his pack. “Nah. Probably just a traveler. Even if it is an ambush or something, I’d rather walk into a trap I’m expecting, than try to circle around and fall into a scorpion nest or Cazador hive or some shit like that.” Rose shuddered at the thought of Cazadors. “Right. Let’s keep moving then.” Coyote magically checked his pistols and rifle to make sure they were loaded, and then resumed his trot. If the stranger camping out turned out to be a threat, he’d be ready. And if not, Coyote was kinda hoping they’d share some of whatever they were cooking. Running for his life and putting up with Rose had left him rather hungry. A short while later, the Coyote and Rose found themselves trotting near enough to the roadside campsite to see who the owner was, and what they were cooking. The owner was clad in a dark brown traveling cloak, and beneath that their attire seemed to be a mess of rags and loose robes. Their face was obscured by a hood and cowl, keeping their exact identity a secret. They were laying on their stomach with their legs folded beneath them, and they had an old battered copy of the Canterlot Medical Journal open on the ground in front of them. And the food cooking on the campfire was a rather large mole rat, impaled upon a spit and roasting over the flames. Before Coyote or Rose could say anything or just keep trotting, the stranger turned their hooded head up from the book to face them. “Greetings travelers. Care to take a seat? Or would you like to have a bite to eat?” they asked. Their voice was rather coarse and gravely, even a bit raspy, much like that of a ghoul’s. Coyote looked them over again, but he couldn’t see a single patch of skin or fur to confirm whether or not they were actually a ghoul or not, or determine their gender. Coyote looked slightly surprised by such hospitality, while Rose looked rather disgusted by the thought of eating meat. “Um,” Coyote looked back and forth between the stranger and Rose. “Thanks stranger. But we-” “Ah, you don’t eat meat, do you? My mistake,” the stranger said with a shake of their head. “It’s hard to tell who will or won’t partake. Some ponies don’t like meat, while other’s do. I’m sorry if I have offended you.” Rose went rigid, her eyes widening slightly as a sudden realization hit her. Coyote just smiled warmly at the hooded stranger. “Ah, no worries. You ain’t offending me none. Actually, I don’t mind-” “Let’s go, Coyote,” Rose suddenly hissed. The scavenger gave her an odd look. “Huh?” Rose gave him a stern, serious look. “I said, let’s go.” Coyote looked back and forth between Rose and the stranger. “Why, what’s wrong?” The mare nodded to the stranger with a scowl. “It’s a Zebra.” Coyote blinked twice. “What?” The stranger scoffed. “Racist.” “See?” Rose growled. “They admit it.” “Oh no,” the stranger waved a rag-shrouded foreleg at the mare. “That was just an observation, remarking on your discrimination.” Coyote shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Um, Rose, what makes you say they’re a Zebra?” The mare continued to scowl. “They’re speaking in rhymes. Only Zebras speak in rhymes like that.” The stranger chuckled. “Oh nooooo,” they rasped sarcastically. “Speaking in rhymes automatically makes me a striped equine. How terrible.” “That one didn’t rhyme,” Coyote muttered. Rose rolled her eyes. “Only Zebras speak in rhymes, but Zebras don’t speak only in rhymes, dumbass. Don't you pay attention to the old stories and legends?” “Well what difference does it make?” the scavenger shrugged. “So what if they’re a ghoul, or a zebra?” “My goodness, another accusation,” the cloaked figure muttered hoarsely. “Zebra, ghoul… What’s next? Crustacean?” “Oh hey, that one rhymed…” Coyote smiled in amusement. “They’re accusations that make sense, considering your voice and rhyming, and the fact that you’re all dressed up to hide your identity,” Rose growled. She then turned to frown at Coyote. “And what do you mean ‘what difference does it make?’ You of all ponies should know what’s wrong with this, Coyote! You know all about the War, and what it did! Every day, you dig through wreckage and bones, just to make a living! All because of the Zebras! Zebras destroyed Equestria! They made everything this way! They killed millions!” she snarled. “They-” The stranger coughed. “They. Not me. I am not that old, you know.” Rose narrowed her eyes. “Or are you? If you’re a ghoul, you could be that old. Maybe you’ve been around since the day the bombs dropped! You could have been here, in Equestria, doing Goddess knows what!” Coyote sighed. “Rose, you’re being unreasonable.” “No I’m not!” the mare angrily barked. “I’m being a pony! I’m-” Coyote suddenly turned to look at the cloaked stranger. “What’s your name anyway?” Rose gave Coyote a flat stare. “Are you fuckin’ serious?” “What? Just being polite,” Coyote replied with a faint smirk. The stranger, who had gone back to reading their book, looked back up at the stallion. “Mim,” they politely answered, before looking back down at the medical text. “My name is Mim.” “Mim, huh?” Coyote mused, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s kind of an odd name for a pony.” “See?!” Rose exclaimed with flailing hooves. “Mim’s not a pony name! It’s a ‘something else’ name! And this something else is obviously a Zebra! Look, they’re even eating meat!” Once again, Coyote shrugged. “So? I eat meat,” the scavenger aloofly observed. Rose fixed the unicorn stallion with a stare of disbelief. “You… you what?” “What? I actually know some really good recipes,” Coyote grinned. “Ever had smoked iguana with a spicy barbeque glaze?” Mim looked up from their book. “That actually sounds quite appealing. Would you be interested in sharing?” “Sure!” was the prospector’s enthusiastic reply, which only made Rose growl in frustration and start trotting away. “Oh come on, Rose! You’re being ridiculous!” “No I’m not!” the earth mare screamed indignantly. “I’m doing my patriotic duty to the great nation of Equestria by hating its eternal foe!” Coyote turned to smirk at Mim. “You know, the irony is, we almost got killed a couple of hours ago by a robot who thought we were Zebras.” Mim chuckled beneath their hood. “Heh, that is somewhat amusing.” Rose stomped back over to the unicorn and stared him straight in the eye. “It’s not traveling with us.” “Who mentioned traveling?” Mim idly asked. “I’m just cooking.” “Stop rhyming!” the green mare snapped. “It’s annoying!” “You just rhymed,” Coyote muttered. Rose punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Ugh. Anyway,” he looked back at Mim, “Where are you heading?” The cloaked “Zebra ghoul” shrugged. “I was heading to a town that’s nearby. I think Wellspring was the name of it. Why?” “You’re rhyming just to mess with me now, aren’t you?” Rose grumbled. Mim shrugged again. “My apologies. Old habits die hard.” “SEE?!” “Actually, that I did just to mess with you,” Mim observed cheekily. Coyote stepped between the angry mare and the passive aggressive “Zebra.” “Hey now, you two play nice. Even IF Mim is a zebra ghoul who’s over two hundred years old, which I doubt, I personally don’t have a problem with them. They’re still trying to survive out here, just like you and me. The War’s over,” he sighed. “Stripes, spots, don’t matter what we’ve got on our coats. Every pony, zebra, griffin, mule, or whatever is equal in the Wasteland. Seriously, there are bigger issues out here than old interspecies rivalries.” He looked back and forth between Rose and Mim, and frowned. “Now are you two going to be reasonable? Or are we just going to keep opening old wounds and continue to be stupid about this crap?” Rose glared at Coyote for a long time, before sighing and lowering her gaze. Mim simply went back to reading. “Hm. You are wise, Mister Coyote,” the “Zebra” remarked as they swept a cloth-wrapped foreleg over their book to turn a page. “Few ponies are willing to stop and look at the big picture. They cling to old grudges, unhealing wounds. Of course, I do not fault them for it. I am sure there are many, many Zebras who still hate ponies. These things cannot be helped, usually. But you… You are different. I like that.” Coyote smiled sheepishly, blushing slightly at the random praise. “Oh, um, thanks.” “I’m sorry for being such a bitch,” Rose suddenly sighed. Mim turned another page of their book. “Apology accepted.” “Actually,” Rose frowned, “I was apologizing to Coyote, not to you.” Coyote groaned. “Oh come on, not this again. Can we just sit down and enjoy some nice roasted mole rat together, as mutual survivors of a post-apocalyptic wasteland, rather than foes? I’m kinda hungry anyway.” With a nod of their hooded head, Mim gestured to the other side of the campfire. “You are welcome to take a seat. Both of you.” Coyote looked over at Rose, waiting to see her response. The merchant mare gave a roll of her eyes, and with a sigh trotted over to sit down on the far side of the campfire, well away from Mim. Coyote smiled, and trotted over to take a seat as well. “So, Mim, you said you were going to Wellsping?” Mim nodded. “Yes. Also, help yourself to the mole rat.” “Thanks,” the scavenger smiled. “We’re headin’ that way, too.” His horn flickered, and one of the mole rat’s roasted legs ripped free. As he hovered it over to bite into, he idly asked: “You wanna tag along with us?” Rose scowled. “Oooooh no. No no no. I am not traveling with a Zebra.” “I can’t believe I’m travelling with a Zebra,” Rose grumbled. Sure enough, Mim had accepted Coyote’s offer. Rose had begrudgingly agreed to allow it, but only on the condition that Coyote walked between them, and Mim still kept their distance from her. There had been much eye rolling from Coyote, of course. Strangely, Mim had not eaten any of the mole rat they cooked, allowing Coyote to eat his fill before simply leaving it behind. Coyote guessed they didn’t want to be seen eating, as that may allow their face to be glimpsed. Maybe they really were a Zebra. Or maybe they just enjoyed dangling the mystery over Rose’s head. Probably the latter. “Yes, I know, you have made that very clear,” Mim sighed, before turning to Coyote. “So how much longer is Wellspring from here?” “About thirty minutes, I’d guess. Why, in a hurry?” he asked, before speeding up his trot and moving a few yards ahead of his two traveling companions. “We can-” Mim froze. “Wait. Mister Coyote!” Coyote looked back over his shoulder. “Hm?” There was a click, followed by a beep. With a yelp, Coyote jumped backwards, his horn lighting up. A small tan saucer wrenched free from a patch of rubble less than a foot in front of him, wreathed in a bright green glow. Filled with terror, Coyote hurled the active landmine with all his telekinetic might. The device flew about five yards in front of him before exploding. While not directly caught in the blast, Coyote was still hurled to the ground by the force of the pressure wave. Without the protection of armor, his body was defenseless against the storm of shrapnel created by the landmine exploding in mid-air. Several fragments of white-hot metal struck the scavenger, tearing through his flesh and spilling his blood upon the pavement. While most of the wounds were merely cosmetic flesh wounds, his right foreleg took several direct hits as he'd tried to shield himself with it. And judging from the amount of blood pouring from the leg, something vital had been hit. “Coyote!” Rose screamed, immediately galloping to the fallen stallion’s aid. Mim simply stood their ground, turning their hooded head from side to side. “Miss Rose, are you good with a gun, or first aid?” Rose ignored Mim’s inquiry, instead rushing to crouch over Coyote’s sprawled form. “Coyote! Coyote can you hear me?!” she yelled, rolling the bloodied stallion over onto his back. Coyote blinked, and weakly raised his head to look at Rose. Blood was freely flowing from several small cuts, as well as his nose. His eyes also held a glazed look. The stallion was no doubt stunned, maybe even concussed. “Oh hey Rose. You see that ‘splosion?” he groggily asked, before flashing a grin that revealed blood-stained teeth. “It was kinda cool. My leg hurts.” Rose looked down at the scavenger’s leg, and realized how bad the bleeding was. While several of the wounds were freely flowing, waves of crimson lifeblood gushed heavily from one gash in particular with every beat of Coyote’s heart. Rose didn’t know much about first aid, but it didn’t take an idiot to realize an artery had been hit. Without treatment, Coyote would bleed to death soon. If she could just feed him a potion, maybe- A burst of machine-gun fire clattered from nearby. Rose screamed and threw herself over Coyote, while Mim continued to simply stand by idly, acting almost as if bored. “Miss Rose, I believe we have company,” the cloaked not-a-pony factually observed. Sure enough, three stallions had emerged from hiding nearby, galloping out from behind several boulders to rush towards the road. Two unicorns magically wielding assault rifles, and an earth pony with an antique but deadly Zebra officer’s sword clutched between his jaws. Judging from their relatively-clean combat armor and helmets that fully covered their bodies and heads, they weren’t run-of-the-mill raiders. These ponies were professional bandits, or worse, slavers. “Alright, hooves up!” a unicorn barked, his black helmet and armor matching the tail that swept out behind it. He galloped towards Rose and Coyote, while the other two advanced upon Mim. “I said hooves up, bitch!” “B-but!” Rose stammered, eyes darting between Coyote and the bandit. “But he’s bleeding to death.” “Ah, shit,” the bandit growled. “Dammit Keg, I told you the landmines were a shit idea!” “Hey, if he croaks, we can still steal his shit,” the other unicorn, clad in blue armor that also matched his tail, replied with a flippant shrug. “But hey, if she can keep his ass alive, I won’t complain.” The black-armored stallion loomed over Rose, and pointed his assault rifle at the back of her head. “You heard him. Save his life. I hate to lose merchandise.” Apparently, they were slavers. Rose nodded, and began to apply pressure to the wound. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right, but the bleeding seemed to be slowing. Coyote looked up at her and smiled goofily. “Oh hey Rose. That's awfully nice of ya to hold my hoof... but yer doin' it wrong...” “Shut up!” Rose whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. “Stop acting like an idiot for once!” “Can’t help it…” Coyote muttered with a sad frown. “Head hurts. Kinda sleepy…” “No!” the mare gasped. “Don’t go to sleep! Coyote, stay awake!” Meanwhile, the other two slavers encroached on Mim, who was still just standing motionless. “Alright, hooves up!” the blue-armored stallion growled, racking the bolt on his assault rifle. The third stallion – clad in red armor that accompanied the color of his tail as well – tilted his sword threateningly towards the cloaked figure. Mim’s hooded head tilted to the side. “You are making a mistake.” Everypony froze. “What?” the blue armored slaver growled. The black armored stallion chuckled darkly. “If another step you take, it will be the last you make,” Mim quietly observed in an almost sing-songy manner. The unicorn in blue armor threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, real fuckin’ scary with the nursery rhyme shit. What are you gonna do, lull me to sleep? Whatever.” The stallion to a step forward. Mim struck with the speed and fury of lightning, and the slaver’s head hit the ground before his hoof did. The red-armored slaver let out a scream of terror, the Zebra blade falling from his mouth just a split second before Mim struck again, their movements too fast to even see. Blood and sparks filled the air, and most of the slaver's helmet fell off, along with the majority of his muzzle. The front of the stallions face completely gone, he fell to the ground screaming and gurgling as he died in agony. The black-armored stallion screamed in terror and rage, and spun his weapon around to fire. The assault rifle peppered the air where Mim was standing – or rather, had been standing. The slaver only succeeded in shooting an empty cloak, which had still been hanging lazily in the air when Mim disappeared. “Where’d they go? Where’d it go?!” the slaver frantically screamed, spinning around as he tried to find the killer of his comrades. He staggered backwards away from Rose, stepping off the road to put distance between him and Mim’s friends. “I’m going! I’m leaving! Alright?! You’re friends are safe! J-just let me go, okay?!” he called out, his voice trembling with fear. “W-w-where are you?!” Rose stared at the spot where Mim had been standing. As the bullet riddled cloak fluttered to the ground, her brain tried to comprehend what her eyes had seen. Just as Mim had had cast off their cloak and rags, Rose had caught a glimpse, only a brief glimpse, of the truth that lay beneath the fabrics. The reality was that Mim wasn’t a Zebra. Mim was something worse. A pair of claw-tipped paws smashed through the ground beneath the slaver. He barely had time to scream before the Hellhound pulled him through the dirt, and to his gruesome death within the earth below. The slaver's screams still echoing in her ears, Rose broke down into choking sobs and pressed her muzzle into Coyote’s mane. Despite her terror and trauma, however, she continued to apply pressure to his bleeding leg with her shaking hooves. “Rose…?” the scavenger weakly asked, his glazed eyes filling with concern. “Why are you crying? Where’s Mim?” Rose sniffed. “Mim… M-Mi-Mim’s… They’re a…” A shadow loomed over the mare and her wounded friend. “Miss Rose?” The voice that spoke was not the same hoarse rasp that Mim had spoken with. It was a deep, guttural growl. The voice of a monster. “Please… Please don’t…” Rose whimpered. “How is Coyote?” the voice asked in a low rumble. Rose didn’t look up, instead simply pressing down on Coyote’s leg with more force. “He’s… He’s hurt bad…” she answered softly, her voice and body trembling with terror. “Oh heeeeey, it’s a doggy…” Coyote observed with a massive, goofy grin. “Hey doggy…” The doggy in question was a large wolf-like hound, with black fur and amber eyes. Standing over Rose and Coyote on its hind legs, most of its body was wrapped in tattered robing and dirty rags. For a Hellhound, though, it was rather small – about the size of a large pony. The canine’s mouth twisted into a crooked smirk. “Hey, Coyote,” it returned the greeting, before looking back down at Rose. “Move.” “W-what?” Rose stammered, finally turning her head to look up at the beast. “Why? No! No, I won’t let you-” The Hellhound rolled its eyes. “Shut up. I’m not going to kill him. I just need to see the wound. I know a lot more about medicine and first aid than you,” it growled. “Now move over, and press your hooves down higher up on his leg.” For a long moment, Rose simply stared up at Mim. Finally, she began to inch over to the side, moving her hooves to apply pressure higher up Coyote’s leg. Mim crouched beside Coyote, and picked up the limp limb in his paws to examine it closer. “No exit wounds. Major blood vessels struck. Shrapnel will have to be removed before healing potion can be administered,” the Hellhound growled. “I’m going to have to pull the fragments out.” “Oh, well, that sounds fun…” Coyote muttered blearily. “This is gonna hurt, ain’t it?” The Hellhound held a paw out towards Coyote’s mouth. “Bite.” “Huh?” “Bite down on my forearm,” the wolf-thing stated, nodding to the furred limb. “It won’t hurt me, but this is going to hurt you. A lot. So bite.” With a weak shrug, Coyote weakly bit down on Mim’s forearm. A split second later, he let out a muffled scream and bit down much harder as the Hellhound’s claws began to dig into his leg to fish for shrapnel. Several bloody, scream-filled minutes later, the “operation” concluded with a barely-conscious Coyote being force-fed a healing potion. The bleeding from his wounds quickly slowed, his flesh reknit, and soon his injuries had all but disappeared. The dullness in his eyes was replaced by the spark of intelligence, with whatever concussion or dazing he’d received being healed as well. “Oh fuck…” he groaned, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Everything hurts.” His eyes promptly shot back open, and locked on the Hellhound looming over him. “Oh fuck. You’re… you’re not a Zebra at all, are you?” “No shit,” Mim deadpanned. “Nice to see you’ve recovered your wits. You should also recover full use of your leg, though it will probably be sore for a few days. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” the Hellhound rumbled, shifting its gaze back and forth between the two ponies before simply turning and walking off to find its cloak. “I will be going now.” “Okay,” Rose quietly said, still trembling. “Bye.” Coyote weakly raised his head. “Aw, where ya goin’?” In unison, Rose and Mim both turned to stare at Coyote and simply ask: “What?” “Where ya goin’?” Coyote repeated, a look of confused concern on blood-smeared face. Mim looked around uncertainly. “Um… away?” “Yeah, but where exactly? Why?” Coyote inquired. Rose forced a smile to her face. “Coyote, stop asking questions, and let the nice Hellhound go away and leave us alone,” she stated with forced pleasantness. “But he helped us,” Coyote muttered. “He killed those slavers.” “Coyote, it’s a Hellhound,” Rose pointed out with a rather nervous smile. “Killing is what they do.” “But he’s nice…” “It’s a Hellhound,” the mare repeated. “What makes you think it’s nice?” Coyote weakly waved his still-sore foreleg. “He saved my life when he didn’t have to. Why would a bad monster-thing do that, if they weren’t nice?” Rose looked around fretfully. “Coyote… It’s a Hellhound.” “Well I like him. I don’t want him to leave,” the scavenger huffed. "If he's nice to us, we should be nice to him, regardless of what he is..." Mim chuckled. It was a rather disturbing sound, for Rose at least. “Mister Coyote, you once again show that you’re wiser than the average pony. No offense, Miss Rose.” “None taken,” Rose squeaked, not wanting to disagree with or otherwise bother the monster-thing. “But really, Mister Coyote, it is better if we part ways.” Coyote managed to climb up into a sitting position, with only minimal pained grunting. “Well, why? I mean, do you have somewhere else to go? Do you have a pack or something?” Mim’s yellow eyes lowered. “No. I do not have a home, or a pack. I am… an exile, of sorts.” Coyote’s ears fell back, and he frowned sadly. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” The scavenger then flashed a smile. “You should totally join us, then!” “Coyote!” Rose whispered frantically. “What are you doing?! It’s a Hellhound!” “Yeah, I know!” Coyote grinned in response. “He’s a big badass dog that likes us! How is that not awesome?!” “It’s. A. Hell. Hound.” “Racist.” Rose flailed her hooves in frustration. “I’m not a racist! I’m a survivalist!” While the two ponies bickered over him, Mim simply shook his head and went to get his cloak. Once he had his hood, cowl, and shrouding back in their proper places, the once-again-incognito Hellhound walked back over to the arguing ponies to see who was winning. Considering how desperate Rose sounded, the odds were likely going in Coyote’s favor. “No, no, no, no, NO,” the mare declared with exaggerated head-shaking. “The Hellhound is not joining us!” “I still can’t believe the Hellhound joined us,” Rose groaned, trotting along on the opposite side of Coyote from the cloak-clad dog-thing. “He’s not ‘the Hellhound,’ Rose,” Coyote corrected her. “His name is Mim.” Mim coughed. “Actually, Mim’s not really my name. It’s just a nickname I use.” Coyote raised a curious eyebrow. “Wait, really?” The hooded Hellhound nodded. “Yes. Mim is short for Mimic, since I can blend in among ponies. Or Zebras, apparently.” Rose rolled her eyes. “I just thought it was witty. But no, my real name is Cain.” “Cain? Like, as in ‘canine?’” Coyote guessed. “Yes, Coyote,” Cain slowly stated with an even, measured tone.. “Like ‘canine.’ You ponies are not the only creatures who use puns in your naming conventions.” “Are you being sarcastic there?” “Actually, no. Most Hellhounds really do have dog-themed names. My father’s name was Floofywoofie.” “Heh. And what was your mom’s name?” “Razorclaw the Bloodsoaked.” “Oh. Okay,” Coyote nodded in understanding. “Okay, yeah, gotcha. Well, Cain, I get the feeling we’re gonna be good friends.” “Or he’s gonna kill us in our sleep,” Rose muttered. “If I were going to kill you,” Cain stated aloofly, “I wouldn’t bother to sit around and wait until you were asleep.” Rose paled slightly. “That was a joke, Miss Rose.” “Right… joke… yes…” the mare nodded slowly, clearly not a fan of Cain’s sense of humor. An awkward silence descended over the group, before it was eventually broken by Cain as they neared the outskirts of Wellspring. “So Coyote, about that recipe you mentioned?” End Chapter 2 -Coyote has earned Experience Points! -Coyote has leveled up, and gained the “Heave, Ho!” Perk! -Coyote has gained a 50% increase to thrown weapon velocity and damage! -Coyote has gained a new companion!