Equestria: Total War

by emkajii


XXXV. Equestria-Gryphonia Border. August, 1252.

Equestria-Gryphonia Border. July, 1252.

The army stretched before her: stretched as if it were incapable of ending. The hundred pastel hues of the tens of thousands of ponies met her eye as a swirling pointillist fantasy, and their ranks and their banners formed rigid geometric abstractions. No tree cast a shadow on them. No cloud obscured the hard sun. No pony stood beside General Derpy Hooves. The Grey Mare met her army's hundred thousand eyes with her one.

She felt it: the gaze of fifty thousand ponies, each begging to be commanded. The windows to fifty thousand souls, all begging to be led. A hundred thousand ears were pricked, every one begging to be filled by her voice. Her army lay before her—lay as a willing lover does. And she closed her eye and let the power wash over her.

And then she opened it, and she spoke.

“Ponies! Our fur is tattered; our hooves are split. We have gone without food. We have gone without blankets. We have gone without sleep. Our endurance has been heroic, but endurance alone could win us nothing but time. Our victories have been glorious, but victories alone could win us nothing but time. For a year now, we have fought for time. We have fought to delay; we have fought to escape; we have fought to deny. We have fought, always, for one more day—we fought to survive, if only so we might fight again to survive.

“When the winter winds bit and we huddled against the naked bodies of our friends for warmth, we prayed that we might hold onto the warmth of life for one more day. When we were faint with hunger and our legs threatened to give way beneath us, we summoned our last reserves of strength to take one more step, and then somehow found energy enough to take one more after that, all so we might march to safety and live for one more day. When the enemy moved freely in our homeland, we struck at her lifelines again and again, slowing her advance so that before the reckoning we might have one more day. When we were at last surrounded by a fierce and unforgiving enemy, we fought against overwhelming odds, and then against greater, and then against still greater, proving in three great victories that the heart of a pony is stronger than the talon of a gryphon, and winning each time the most precious prize: the right to live for one more day.


And so we have marched. We have starved. We have shivered and we have bled. We have struggled and we have sacrificed, all that we might survive for one more day. And now, ponies, on this day, at this moment, we stand on the border of Gryphonia. Behind us are our charred homes and our desolate farms; behind us are our grieving families and our mourning communities. Behind us is the price of war; behind us is our punishment for trusting our northern neighbors. But before us! Before us lie fertile fields untouched by famine's hand. Before us stand great cities on lofty mountains, glittering with the fruits of theft and slavery. Before us runs a scattered and fleeing army, once proud invaders and now refugees in their own lands. Before us sits a twisted king on his wicked throne, cursing our valor and plotting his revenge. Before us, ponies, is a teetering empire of cruelty.

“Ponies, Gryphonia is a land of predation. She is built on the enslavement of the proud race of lions, whose courage and honor you know all too well. Her perversely 'honorable' culture rewards the murderous and punishes the peaceful. Her wealth is pillaged from her neighbors and extracted from her own downtrodden, and serves not to enrich the people but to reward the cunning and the brutal. She is not a land of ponies, content with grass and water, no. She is a land of beaks and talons and fangs; she slaughters the living and devours their blood and flesh. Such a predator cannot live in peace. She must kill, or she will die. But because of our courage, Gryphonia has failed to kill. Now she must attempt again—and she will attempt with all the desperate fury of a starving and wounded beast.

“There can be no doubt that she will attempt again, on a day soon to come, at a moment of her choosing. But on this day she is reeling on her heels, and at this moment she wobbles on her high peak, struggling to regain her balance. Either she will find her footing and pounce again, or she will be hurled to the distant ground. We have arrived at a moment of precarious balance. We have arrived at a moment when the life and death of nations must be decided. Soldiers of Equestria: we have arrived at our moment.

“And we will not let our moment pass. We who have felt the gryphons' blades pressing against our throat will not wait for our enemy to ready them again. We who have felt the dull aches of exhaustion and the sharp pains of starvation will not wait for our enemy to burn the next season's crops. We who have seen the lifeless corpses of our comrades and the butchered bodies of our friends will not wait for the gryphons to murder again. No. We will not wait. I will not wait!

“So ponies! Strike with me! Strike with a terrible resolve and an unprecedented ferocity! Strike with the blinding speed of a pegasus! Strike with the unerring precision of a unicorn! Strike with the overwhelming strength of an Earth pony! Strike with the tenacity of the soil; strike with the subtlety of a spell; strike with the sudden thunder of a storm! Find the gryphons who thrust their knives into our backs while we slept, meet them face to face, and thrust your lances into their hearts. Find our enemy, and destroy her before she can raise her claws in defense. Surround her cities, and overwhelm them as a hurricane does. Meet her enslaved lions, who have never fought us of their own will, and greet them as our free and noble sisters, and their ferocity will be the lightning in our storm. And as the cleansing rains rinse the battlefield of blood, together we shall rinse the Earth of the bloody Kingdom of Gryphonia!

“Soldiers of Equestria! I stand on this boulder, precisely on the line between the holy Principality of Equestria and the profane Kingdom of Gryphonia. And as of this day; as of this moment—as of two minutes past noon, on the 28th of July, in the Year of our Princesses 1252—” she turned, took a step away from the army, and looked over her flank, “—the fall of Gryphonia has begun!”



---

Scootaloo galloped through the singing and marching soldiers, her buzzing wings propelling at a reckless speed, her gangly legs used only to keep her off the ground and to make quick turns. All around her, voices sang, and she peered through the chorus for one voice in particular.

Mother and I went down to camp, to meet with Captain Boatwheel
There we saw the ponies marching thick as Trotsburg oatmeal
Gen'rl Derpy keep it up, Gen'rl Derpy, Gray Mare,
Win the war, ignore the shot,
And with your soldiers stay fair.

Scootaloo shook her head as she darted around the loose formations of ponies. She didn't like this song; it was downright disrespectful in her eyes. But the soldiers seemed to like it—though she couldn't imagine why—and Sweetie Belle had a knack for writing exactly what ponies wanted to sing, and for singing exactly what ponies wanted to hear. That was her special talent, after all, with bell-and-note cutie mark to match. No wonder she didn't want to go back with Apple Bloom.

Gen'rl Derpy heard the news that gryphons were invaders
“All right gals, we'll starve right now, and we'll kick their flanks later.”
Gen'rl Derpy keep it up, Gen'rl Derpy, Gray Mare,
Win the war, ignore the shot,
And with your soldiers stay fair.

A brown Earth pony mare stumbled over a rock in front of Scootaloo; she leaped effortlessly over the soldier, and took to pure flight. She glided over the soldiers, still scanning for Sweetie Belle's voice, then came in for a landing and resumed her running-scooting hybrid. She was quite proud of her technique, of course, but apparently it wasn't special-talent-worthy. Well, not yet, at any rate.

Gen'rl Derpy found herself in quite a pretty pickle
“If anyone will make us well, a pony who is sick'll!”
Gen'rl Derpy keep it up, Gen'rl Derpy, Gray Mare,
Win the war, ignore the shot,
And with your soldiers stay fair.

She especially hated that line. So disrespectful. Sweetie and her had known some of the injured mares who had volunteered. Sweetie had explained it was black humor, and that the soldiers appreciated blah blah whatever. The suicide attackers were heroes, and ponies should feel reverence and terror, not laugh at them. Who cares what the soldiers appreciate? Most of them weren't even there.

Gen'rl Derpy spat 'em out, like water from a fountain,
Then she looked northwards and said, “gals, time to climb a mountain!”
Gen'rl Derpy keep it up, Gen'rl Derpy, Gray Mare,
Win the war, ignore the shot,
And with your soldiers stay fair.

Yeah, “spat the gryphons out,” she did. Just like water. Nice and easy, if you ignore all the dying and the—wait. There it was. A clear, high-but-strong voice pierced through the mob. Scootaloo jumped up, flitted higher, found Sweetie Belle below, then did a loop and landed next to her.

“Sweetie Belle! There you are,” she said breathlessly.

“Uh, yeah,” she said sharply, “where else would I be?” She flipped her hair in disdain; she hated when ponies stopped her in the middle of a song.

“It's a big army,” Scootaloo replied. “It's not like you're always in the same place.”

“Sure I am. I'm always here. Always at the head of the Ponyville Guards. Why would I be with anypony else? Use your common sense, Scoot.”

“Well, yeah, obviously you would be with 'em, but, I mean, they're not always at the same spot in the columns, so, you know. I've got to run through listening for you.”

“You should just look for the banner,” Sweetie replied, a hint of irritation in her voice.

“I can hear you before I can see the Guards,” Scootaloo laughed. “Your voice is really strong, Sweetie Belle. It's great.”

Sweetie blushed, forgetting her impatience at being interrupted mid-song. “Hey, thanks! Yours is too—oh I mean, um, it's not, um, shoot, that's not an insult, it's just...but, um...I like your wings?”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said eagerly, ignoring Sweetie's awkward fumbling. “They're awesome, huh? Stronger every day!”

“Yeah...so...I didn't see you at the speech. Did you hear it?”

“Heck yeah,” the pegasus filly nodded, grinning. “Did you hear that spell Lyra put on her? She's getting real good at making the General loud. I think half the planet heard her.”

“Where were you? We always listen to the speeches together. I thought maybe...maybe you found a new friend.” She looked uncharacteristically sad for a moment. “Did you?”

“Nope! Better. I was filling out some paperwork with Colonel Peekaboo. Check it out!” She struck a pose. Sweetie suddenly noticed that her friend was wearing a grey-and-gold-mottled uniform.

“You—what are you wearing, Scootaloo?!”

“Nuh-uh. Scout Scootaloo, First Pegasus Reconnaissance, Army of Northern Equestria.”

Sweetie Belle's mouth dropped. “Are you serious? You enlisted? But Derpy said—”

“The General said she wouldn't let fillies fight. But I'm flighted now, so I'm a mare, and scouting isn't fighting anyway. Peekaboo ran it past her, and it's okay! I'm a scout now! Isn't that great?!”

“But after all that happened? After we were captured, and...after all that? You still want to go back and see more of that?”

“And when we were captured we were found by scouts, Sweetie Belle. And I thought—well, look, your job is here, writing songs and singing them and inspiring the soldiers and the stuff you're good at. And mine is out there, hiding and running and flying and searching and all the stuff I'm good at. You've seen how fast I can go; do you think a gryphon could keep up? Or slalom around trees like I can? Or would dare dive at a pony who's buzzing along at ground level? I'm perfect for this!”

“You're a filly,” Sweetie said incredulously.

“No. Neither of us are fillies. Being a mare isn't about how big your body is. Are you going to tell me that even after the winter and after all those battles, we're more fragile than any of those recruits are? Are you going to tell me that we can do less than a fully-grown pony can? Because you and I have seen a lot of bad stuff and we're still okay, and heck, I beat the lancers in obstacle races most of the time, and you're the best songwriter in the army. I'm a mare now. So are you.”

“But we're still...and you don't even have your...”

“Face it. It doesn't matter that we're a bit smaller than the others. We're mares. We have responsibilities to this army and to Equestria. You're fulfilling yours every time you open your mouth or write with your unicorn magic. And now I'm going to fulfill mine.”

“Oh, Scootaloo. You...but it's so dangerous. Why risk it? Why bother with the—oh, Scootaloo! I don't want you to get hurt. I can't...”

“Well, I don't plan on getting hurt,” she said, “but honestly, Sweetie Belle, I'd rather die out there with a uniform on than spend all day hiding among ponies who are risking their own lives. And if anypony should be out there it should be me.” Her expression turned dead serious. “I mean, I don't...you know. I don't have...I don't really have a family any more. So...if I die, I mean...I wouldn't care because I'd be dead, and nopony else would care too.”

“I'd care! I'd really, really care! You can't just throw away your life because—”

“—I'm not throwing anything away,” Scootaloo snapped, looking up suddenly. “I'm just as useless if I die as if I sit in a camp all day. I'm not going to do either, okay? I'm going to serve Equestria and the General. You should be happy for me, not fretting and worrying like you're Fluttershy or somepony. We all decided to come along with this army, and we supported each other. I'm deciding to come along in a different way. Why can't you support me?”

“I do support you, Scootaloo,” Sweetie said defensively, “You know I do! I just don't want you to get hurt. You're the closest friend I've got left, and I really like you, and I like being around you, and I don't—I don't—” She stopped walking, as did Scootaloo. The ranks of soldiers began parting around them as they continued marching. She bit her lip, then looked around, then stepped in closer. “Look,” she whispered, “I, um...just...when you're out there, promise me that you'll think of me before you do anything stupid, okay? Because I'll be thinking about you.”

Scootaloo saw something in Sweetie Belle's face she didn't quite understand, and felt the glimmer of a strange feeling. She looked into her friend's wide eyes, and her mind swam with emotion. She felt a strange tugging, then she shook her head, and it disappeared. “Okay,” she said, slowly and deliberately. “I can do that.”

Sweetie Belle smiled softly. She looked...pretty. The tugging feeling came back. “I'm glad,” the unicorn said. “Because...like I said. I'll be thinking about you. And...um...if you go out...promise me you'll stop by my tent and say goodbye, okay?”

“Okay. Yeah,” Scootaloo said again, transfixed by the white unicorn. “Um...do you...um...”

“Yes?” Sweetie Belle blinked, and leaned in a bit.

“You know...do you...feel...um...you know...about...me?”

Sweetie Belle's face turned bright red underneath her fur, and she pulled her head back. “Scootaloo! Quiet! We're good friends. That's all I meant. That's all I meant!”

“Ha ha. Okay. Good,” Scootaloo said, her mind clearing in an instant. “Sorry. I just...ah. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” Sweetie said nervously. “Um—no, yeah, it's okay.”

“Okay. Ha ha. Good,” Scootaloo replied, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how fast her heart was beating.

They walked together, avoiding looking at each other. Well...I'm a mare, now, Scootaloo thought. We're mares like any other, even if our bodies are a little smaller. So does that mean I...but that would mean I...so am I...oh, Celestia, I am, aren't I? She looked at Sweetie Belle out of the corner of her eye, and for a few seconds watched her hair bounce as she walked. Her eyes drifted back towards Sweetie's cutie mark, then back to her face. Well, maybe our bodies aren't all that much smaller, she thought with a trace of wonder. Sweetie's eyes caught her own, and Scootaloo quickly returned her gaze forward. She bit her lip. Oh, Luna. Please let her be, too.

She looked back at Sweetie Belle, who was staring at her hooves as she walked, her tongue poking out in thought. And please keep me safe long enough to find out, she added.

---

North-Central Equestria. August, 1252.

“...and so I told her what I thought of her plans, and she told me to leave. So I did, and started headin' back to Ponyville. Figured I'd start ta rebuild the place. And I saw your campfires so I thought I'd come and see if you was still all right. And that's what done happened.”

“So that's it, then,” Applejack muttered. “You left because you thought your General wasn't thinkin' straight. That she was leadin' us all down a dark road.”

“Pretty much,” he said.

Applejack shook her head. “I...I never thought I'd be so ashamed of ya, big brother.”

Big Mac blinked. “I don't understand, AJ. I thought you'd be on my side here”

“An Apple never abandons her duty. Your duty is to your home, right?”

“My duty is to what's right,” he said darkly. “Talkin' about what's best for Equestria seems to be a handy way to do what's wrong.”

“No matter then. Do you think this invasion is right?”

“Of course not! I--”

“--then what in all things apples and oranges are you doin' runnin' away from it!? You ain't some hoity-toity Canterlot dandy who does what's right so long as it's convenient, are you? No! You're Big Macintosh! If you think somepony's headed to do wrong, you get in their way and you put down your hooves and you say so, and if they tell you to move you tell 'em you ain't movin' until they turn around and go home. That's the way we was brought up, and that's the way you always taught me to be.”

“She kicked me out, AJ.”

“No, she told ya to leave, and ya did. She didn't do no kickin'. I know she didn't, or you'd have kicked back, and ain't nopony kicks stronger'n you. Well, yours truly excepted, a'course.”

Mac sighed, long and hard. “Yeah, AJ. You're right. I didn't have to go. She didn't really make me. I...aw, ponyfeathers. I wanted to leave. To get away from her. Because I couldn't stand to be near her.”

“You hated her that much? That ain't like you.”

“Hate? Well...maybe. I don' know. I ain't had much experience with that kinda thing. I loved her, and I couldn't stand to see her become a bad pony, so I couldn't stand to hear her talk or to look at her lookin' at me, because I just saw all the evil growin' in her. Saw it destroyin' her. Like watchin' your own baby foal gettin' burned to ashes each'n every time I looked in her eye. Is that hate? I don't hardly know. I tried to bring her back. I tried over and over again, and lots of times I thought she was getting' better and then she'd go and do somethin' even worse than last time. So I snapped, at the end. And I said some things to her that nopony should have to hear. And to make it worse...well...they was true things.”

“War's rough, Mac,” Applejack said. “It makes good ponies do bad things. And you gotta deal with hard choices and hard situations the same way you deal with hard work: you put your nose down and do what's gotta be done, because if'n you don't take care of it today it'll be waitin' for ya tomorrow—along with whatever new problems tomorrow brings.”

“I won't do bad things, AJ. I can't.”

“Neither do I. That's what makes Apples the most reliable an' trustworthy ponies around. But we also do what's right even when other ponies are doin' wrong, don' we?”

“...yup,” he said sadly.

“And what's right ain't goin' home when things start lookin' bad, is it?”

“...nope.”

“Then you ain't goin' back to Ponyville now, are you?”

Big Macintosh sighed in resignation. “Nope. No I ain't.”

Apple Bloom perked up. “So I get to go back to the army and Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle?”

The red stallion shook his head. “I can't talk with Derpy again. I can't do it. I won't do it. I don't care if it's wrong to say, but I can't do it.”

“...well...do you love her?” Applejack asked.

“I don't know.”

“But she does love you, right?”

“I think so.”

“Did you ever tell her you loved her?”

“...yes.”

“And who started it between you and her?”

“I guess I did. I mean she was pretty clear that she wanted it but--”

“--then you owe it to her to go back and apologize for hurtin' her, just like you owe it to yourself to keep tryin' to talk sense into her.”

“It don't matter if I owe it to Celestia herself. I can't do it.”

“It don't matter? Shucks, I thought you were a better pony than that, Mac.”

“It ain't about what I owe, sis. It ain't. I can't do it, any more than I can fly or use unicorn magic. Can't you talk to her instead?”

“We'll all talk to her, of course, an' lotsa times at that, but...Mac? I gotta be honest with ya. I think Derpy might have the right idea there.”


---


Rarity came skittering into the tent, a small cloud of paperwork floating behind her. The other five ponies blinked in confusion.

“Sorry I'm late,” she panted. “I simply lost track of time. You wanted flexibility, ha ha, and flexibility requires somepony to make a concrete plan for every possibility! Every single possibility, ha ha, including the insane ones that Pinkie Pie comes up with and which are somehow listened to despite being too ridiculous to even consider implementing, ha ha ha, but listen to me go on like such a loudmouth. What occasions this meeting?”

“Glad you could make it,” Twilight Sparkle said cheerfully. “Big Macintosh here had just finished debriefing us on the activities of the Army of Northern Equestria.”

“Ah, lovely to see you, Big Macintosh, I trust you are well,” Rarity said, smiling sweetly as she took a seat, her papers arranging themselves into neat piles. “And what improbable successes has Miss Hooves embarked on now? Has she, perhaps, scattered the invading armies with a single angry glance? Does the Gryphon King now kneel at our little mailmare's feet? I can't wait to find out.”

“Actually,” Applejack said, “she pretty much has scattered 'em; she beat 'em and then cut off their supply route. And accordin' to Big Mac, she's hellbent on invadin', and by now she's probably already crossed over.”

“Ah. How...surprising a development, and yet so expected. I assume that as a result of this information we will engage in a hasty and ill-considered shift in our strategic aims, without regard to the fundamental facts that have not changed. Lay it on me, Twilight dear, Rarity stands ready to make your most preposterous dreams come true.”

“This changes quite a bit,” Twilight said. “We were sent up to deal with the situation on the border. If we're to be there in time to affect the outcome, we will have to move quickly. We've decided to force a double-time march until we meet up with the other army. Our soldiers will be quite tired, of course, but better we be there tired than not be there at all.”

“Ah, ha ha ha,” Rarity chuckled, “and here I thought you were planning on doing something difficult. I am sure you all considered very deeply whether your soldiers could handle the strain.”

“Yeah, of course,” Rainbow Dash said. “We're all good to go.”

“Yes, I'm sure you are, and I do believe you, since knowing that is your job. But tell me, Rainbow Dash—or, no, tell me, anypony. What were you planning on eating during this adventure?”

They all looked at her in confusion—except Pinkie, who was absentmindedly chewing on her hair.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, still smiling benignly. “I assumed that you had a plan for that. It's just that a pony on a force march requires nearly twice as much food as usual, but I'm sure you were well aware of that, since you decided to come up with a plan without consulting me at all.”

“Well,” Applejack said, “you can make it work, right? I mean, that's your job'n all...”

“Oh, yes, of course, I had forgotten that it was my job to keep us fed. I had forgotten, you see, since I am spending upwards of 14 hours a day trying to keep us fed, and that naturally leaves me precious little time to remember things like that. Thank you for reminding me, Applejack. Well! Seeing as I am tasked with feeding us, I'll just figure it out right now, hmm? Yes.” Rarity's horn glowed, and a series of maps flipped up off the table and arranged themselves in front of her. “Well. I had planned on this line from the northern Westmarch to provide us with a third of our food and a quarter of our cloth, but of course we'll blow right past the rendezvous point, so we can't count on that until we've been in Gryphonia for a few weeks. Hm, and of course the area around Manehattan to replace it is right out, given that there doesn't appear to be a farm left standing, but that's all right, because we were going to draw most of our food from the Fillydelphia region, so we'll just get a bit more from them—ah, yes, same problem as before, what do you know? Those supplies won't arrive in time for us to use them either! Well, there's always the Canterlot line, that one's moving at double-time anyway, and—ah ha ha, silly me, we'll be moving at double time too, so they won't catch up with us either. Well! I'm sure you fine ponies could assist?”

“Um,” Twilight said carefully, “we were going to go through the same route Derpy went through, so we could use the same supply lines she is?”

“Oh, even better,” Rarity said. “A much better plan, isn't it? See, I thought we were going to go through the northwest and then hook east, letting us forage in relatively untouched areas. Ha ha, we're going to go directly north, right through the path of another army, thus denying us any forage but what they neglected to take for themselves. Hmm...yes, going through an area without forage should roughly double the amount of food we need to take from our supply carts...and we'll make up for it by taking food from villages...that are already supporting an army of Celestia-knows-how-many ponies, and which have been subject to a Gryphonic scorched-earth campaign. Perhaps we can make do by eating their makeshift shacks and shelters! Or we can just skip a step and kill and eat the locals themselves. Well. I can clearly see that you five have thought this through with all the care and caution that befit your station.” She set the papers down, and an artificial-sweetener smile crossed her face. “I suggest we start over, hm? And this time, before we put our dreams to paper, we run them past the pony who turns them into reality.”

Nopony spoke.

“Hm?” She ran a hoof through her hair. “Come, now! Let's plan, shall we?”

“We've got a plan,” Rainbow Dash said combatively. “Let's make it work, huh?”

“No, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity laughed, her voice pregnant with condescension. “What you have is an incoherent daydream, and those tend to get ponies killed, because as we have all learned, reality is not nearly as forgiving of our mistakes as daydreams are. Now. I'm sure it was great fun planning a heroic romp to Gryphonia, but playtime is most assuredly over. It's time to be grownups. Let's not half-ass it, hmm?”

“Rarity!” Applejack snapped. “Watch your language!”

“I shall not apologize for the term. If anyone should apologize, why, it should be donkeys, for being so lazy and unreliable. Now let's not be half-asses, hm? Let's be ponies.”

“Racist,” Applejack muttered under her breath.

“I heard nothing,” Rarity sang. “Now, let's get planning.”

The others looked at each other. Finally, Twilight spoke: “All right, girls. Let's start at the beginning and see what we can make happen. We're here, and we need to get over there as soon as is possible.”

Rarity leaned forward, smiling in satisfaction.


---


THREE HOURS LATER


“All right,” Twilight Sparkle said, sighing heavily. “So we'll double-time east-by-northeast, and meet up with the Fillydelphia caravan, then march north-by-northeast at normal pace, and meet the Westmarch caravan near Manehattan, then turn northeast. We'll then be dependent mostly on our own supplies until we reach the northeastern border, we'll then cross the border along the eastern coast, then we'll double-time northwest until we meet up with General Hooves, around the same time our Canterlot supplies will have arrived. How long will this take?”

“Perhaps three weeks,” Rarity said, “and fewer if you send some pegasus ponies to help the Westmarch carvan speed along. That would let us march faster to Manehattan.”

“Good,” Rainbow Dash said. “We may miss the first battle or so, but we'll be there in time to reinforce her for the rest of the campaign.”

“Wait,” Fluttershy said. “Reinforce? I thought we were going to go there to tell her to come home!”

“We are,” Pinkie Pie said reassuringly. “Wait. Um...Aren't we? I mean, wasn't that obvious? Why would we invade Gryphonia? That would be stupid. We're going to make her stop, right?”

“Yes,” Fluttershy said, “and sign a peace treaty.”

“Uh,” Applejack said, “last time I checked there was a peace treaty between us and the gryphons—one that had been 'round for longer'n the Apple clan's been around—and they broke it outta nowhere for no reason. I thought was pretty clear we were supportin' Derpy!”

“Oh, no,” Fluttershy said, her soft voice developing a bit of an edge. “We were sent to deal with the situation. The situation is that a general has decided of her own accord to raise an army and invade a country. Our goal is peace. We need to stop her and establish a peace.”

“Fluttershy,” Applejack warned, “this war ain't over. We can't all pretend it's over and hide from it.”

“I wouldn't suggest that,” Fluttershy said, putting a hoof to her heart. “I'm simply saying—“

“—wouldn't suggest it?!” Rainbow Dash said angrily. “Says the pony who spent half the war hiding and pretending in her cave?”

“Why, you—” Fluttershy's eyes narrowed. “You take that back this instant, young lady.”

“Young lady?!” Dash shouted. “Oh, that is it.”

“What's it?! You are younger than her!” Pinkie stepped in front of Fluttershy. “Maybe you should listen to her instead of making fun of her!”

“Um, girls?” Twilight grinned nervously. “Maybe we should talk about—”

Rarity leaned back and stretched her hooves behind her head, not bothering to conceal a smile.