//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: Wolf on the Border // Story: CWiE: Clan Wolf in Equestria // by DrAngryslacks //------------------------------// As the Firemoth charged down the seemingly endless train tracks, Flynn had become bored out of his mind. He switched his objectives screen on, completely blank aside from the time. It had been nearly half an hour since he spoke with Braeburn and it had been only a minute ago that he went to right at the Y-junction. The Cadet looked to his left to see the other track slowly shrink into the distance behind him. Perhaps that railroad leads to 'Canterlot', whatever that is. He thought, turning his attention back to the front of him. It was there, in that long journey down the tracks, that Flynn discovered his newest talent. It was not an easy one to attain, but the Cadet had easily mastered the art of simultaneously being alert as a fox yet bored out of his mind just enough for the experience to be agonizing. He needed to destroy something - or at least do some target practice. That way he could hopefully be content long enough to reach Ponyville all the while sharpening his skills. However, he could not just fire his lasers at the ground and make a streak of scorched earth - it was too sacrilegious to harm holy Terra in such a careless manner. He also could not blow up an isolated homestead that he had stumbled across just then, even though it seemed long abandoned. I am being careless, only the Founder knows what he has set in store for me next. Maybe there is a cowardly ambush up ahead, one that if I am not prepared for could shred me into... Flynn spaced out, after running into a deep philosophical question for the second time. What happens if I get 'killed' again here? Do I just wake up where I fell hours later, or somewhere else or do I just 'disappear' or- “I really need to stop overthinking this all.” He said aloud. Not long after the Cadet stopped himself, the ground changed from golden sand to emerald grass up ahead. The transition was not subtle, it was as though someone had drawn an invisible line and told the grassland and the desert not to cross their sides. Whoever made this line did not account for a twenty ton war machine to rush past it, and part of the vegetation was torn up from the ground when the Firemoth lifted its leg for the first few steps. Flynn twisted the Mech's torso to the left, then to the right. He was in a moderately sized valley, the trees were scattered into small clusters, too sparse to be used as cover by a 'Mech. The birds inside flitted away in terror from the sound of his stomping. He scanned the terrain until something caught his eye. Is that a castle? Flynn wondered, in the far-off distance a tall but narrow fortress sat on the side of an insanely steep mountain. An old fortress at that. With only a simple turn of a dial a camera zoomed in for Flynn to see better, the ivory walls were made of stone, the roofs cone-shaped and brightly colored banners waved on the walls, the symbols on it still too distant for the Flynn to identify. “That must be Canterlot,” The Cadet said aloud, retracting the zoom feature by reversing the dial. As he did so, a new structure appeared in his vision. In this case a clock tower peaking just over head a small hill. The Firemoth slowed its course and paced up the hill, revealing more of the tower and an entire settlement around it. It was a medium sized town, but like Appleloosa, seemed to be stuck in the distant past. The appearance of the houses, the shops and virtually everything else implied that even basic metallurgy was still an emerging concept. The town was still a few kilometers away, but reaching it would not be difficult and he knew everything he needed from the observation. “That must be Ponyville.” Applejack made a quick sigh as she walked with her brother Big Mac through downtown Ponyville. The sun shined brilliantly as it neared the position in the sky signaling high noon. The many ponies in the town going about their routines. Except Big Mac did not want to do that. “Come on, why ya gotta be so stubborn?” The orange pony glared at her defiant brother, at the rate he was going she might have to start dragging him soon. “Ah ain't goin' to the doctor again,” Big Mac furrowed his brow back at Applejack, trying to appear as stern as he could. “For cryin' out loud, ya just need two more rounds of physical therapy and you can stop.” “Ah don't need 'em.” Applejack groaned, “Ya shouldn't have gotten yourself hurt before Applebuck Season then!” Big Mac was not known to be stubborn - at least not as stubborn as herself tended to be - but for some reason she just could not figure out, the colt did not like going to the doctor, no matter how serious the reason. Even when he injured his foreleg weeks before he insisted on using a pillowcase as a makeshift brace instead of gauze. When the Apple family finally did get Big Mac to the physician, Nurse Redheart recommended two weeks of physical therapy to help him recover after everything she could do was done. Money, or lack thereof, was not the reason for his unwillingness to go. Sure, Granny Smith could have used a new hip, and Applejack intended to pay for it with the profit she would earn at the Gala sometime down the road, but that was beside the point. It would have been easy to put it down as a phobia, but he did not break into cold sweats at the mention of needles or anything that implied standard 'doctor business,' as Applejack put it. Once he was inside the office, he would turn semi-cooperative: enough to do as the nurse told, but in a state of unpleasantness during every second of it. In a way, simply getting him to the physician was harder for the two than actually being there, if only by a sliver. Big Mac stopped walking, his demeanor adamant as ever. His sister slowed and glared back. “Do Ah need to drag you? Again?” “Nope,” Replied the colt, shutting his eyes and pointing his nose upward in a show of tenaciousness. The orange pony gritted her teeth, leaned low to the ground and prepared to reach for the yoke that her brother loved to wear. Big Mac still had his eyes closed as far as she could tell, as long as she was quick enough he would not be able to react in time. Her plan was simple enough, snatch the yoke from him and hold it hostage until he gave in. On three, she thought, having crouched to the ideal pouncing level. One... Two... “Are you Applejack?” The farmer pony lost her concentration and jolted up, almost leaping into the air in surprise. She cocked her head to the source of the voice, a sky-blue pegasus hovered inches off the ground. It was not her friend Rainbow Dash, but rather a colt with a scroll dangling from his mouth. She nodded her head. Uh-huh. “Message for you.” The colt placed the letter in his hoof and handed it over, as soon as Applejack clutched it the pegasus soared off into the Western sky. However, before she had the chance to untie the string holding it shut, Big Mac seized the opportunity to run in the opposite direction like a startled goat. “Get back here, Big Mac!” Applejack yelled, biting the letter between her teeth and giving chase. The particular streets of Ponyville that the two dashed through were mostly empty, but both brother and sister had to occasionally weave around somepony in the way. Despite Applejack's athleticism, Big Mac had the benefit of emotion-induced adrenaline powering him. Because of this, the red colt moved at a pace oh-so-slightly faster than his sister's - enough to stay within her sight for a while, but not enough for a sudden catch-up sprint to be effective. The buildings and houses soon gave way to apple trees as the two raced into Sweet Apple Acres. Really? Applejack thought, switching to a slower, more rhythmic gallop to save energy. Big Mac meanwhile made a sharp turn to the left after passing a tree, nearly losing his balance in the process. He's doin' it again. He's goin' to run straight home and hide under his bed until Ah go away, or he gets hungry. Then when he does get hungry, he's gonna to assume we forgot all about the doctor and be normal old Big McIntosh. Having long since memorized the layout of the orchard, Applejack easily slalomed through the trees. Knowing how things were likely to go down, she refocused her attention to concentrate on her memory and thought back to how she got him to get into town in the first place. It was happening just like last time, exactly like last time. She first started off easy by asking him to go for a walk, which Big Mac did not really question - he liked the exercise. It was when she gradually guided him into Ponyville proper that he would raise the question. “Am I goin' to the doctor?” The mere uttering of that query was where things fell apart. Applejack was anything but a liar - she was the Element of Honesty for a reason. Because of this fact, she was obligated by her very nature to answer 'yes'. In retrospect, it was not the most cunning of plots, but Applejack did not want to spend too much time bogged down by trying to figure out how all the minutiae would kick in, unlike her friend Rarity. Ah might have to convince Nurse Redheart to reconsider making house visi- WHAM! Applejack placed her hoof to her forehead and rubbed it tenderly, she did not remember what had just happened, but she knew it made her look very foolish. When she opened her eyes, the side of a metal silo encompassed her vision. “That is your sibling. Kwee-aff?” An unfamiliar voice said. “Eeyup,” Another voice, Big Mac's, replied. “What are you blabbering abo-” Applejack turned her head to the source of the talking, but frankly, she just did not believe her eyes. A bipedal animal, kind of like a tall, hairless monkey stared back at her. “I am Cadet Flynn of the Wolf Clan, identify yourself and your role in the Laborer Caste.” The monkey said, in a tone that came off as impassive but could almost be construed as condescending. The hay is he talkin' about, Applejack thought, ignoring the throbbing pain in her forehead long enough to think of a response. “Uhh, Ah'm Applejack, and this is mah brother Big Mac,” she pointed to her brother, who matched Flynn's blank expression. “And, uh, we're both farmers that harvest and sell apples.” Applejack felt somewhat disappointed in herself, she could and should have handled that introduction better. She should have shown more pride, added more 'oomph' - for want of a better word - to her speech. She had one chance at a first impression, and it was a weak one. Then again, showing off one's hard work was usually not considered a priority when one's head hurt. “Are you the relative of the Laborer, Braeburn?” Flynn asked. “Braeburn sent ya?” The orange pony inquired, the monkey nodding affirmatively. That quick mention that was all that was needed for her to check the letter. Unfurling the note, sure enough the letter hastily mentioned someone heading for Ponyville, with the implication that he wanted to see her new friend, Twilight Sparkle. What Braeburn meant by 'giant metal thing' was not clear until Applejack made a double-take of the 'silo' she just hit. A simple glance upwards revealed the silo to actually be a leg belonging to some weird-looking statue, causing the mare to gaze wide-eyed. “Nice statue,” she muttered, too entrenched in a state of disbelief to even question what it was doing in the middle of her orchard. Ah am just not thinkin' at all today it seems like. She pressed her hoof against her forehead, both to assert her lack of foresight and to help fight off the pain. Ah can't believe I ran into that thing. Flynn meanwhile, could not have cared less. The horse in front of him was visibly ashamed of something, not to mention in agony. The reason of the anguish did not directly affect him, and he clearly saw her absentmindedly run into the left leg of his 'Mech, so he opted not to put any more thought into either. “Your associate is a record keeper, and you will lead me to her so that I may continue my journey. Quiaff?” “You mean Twilight? Yeah, she runs the library around here.” The orange pony pointed her head off in the general direction of town. “But before we head off, this letter from Braeburn says Ah'm supposed to give you a tour of Ponyville.” She bit the top of the paper and held it out for him to see. Flynn snagged the letter from the pony's maw and read it to himself. The clear haste of its penning shown in sloppy handwriting and rushed body. That was all he could make out of it, however. The message was so illegible that he could not understand what it said whatsoever. And why would I have to go on a tour when the horse could easily escort me to where I needed to go? He thought, he had the right as a warrior to demand a direct trip to 'Twilight' if he wanted it. Then again, there is potential value in familiarizing myself with the locals. They are more... 'modern' is too strong a word, less primitive than Appleloosa, if not by much. “I will accompany you around your settlement. You may lead the way.” The MechWarrior deadpanned, observing the pony's pleased reaction. “Okay, sugarcube, let's go!” Applejack turned around and began a slow canter back towards town, Flynn following with a fast walk. “First stop is the doctor's office, where mah brother needs to make a little visit.” Applejack shifted her head to face the MechWarrior, only to stop half-way upon seeing Big Mac quickly closing the gap between him, the monkey and herself and matching his pace beside her. This of course made Applejack puzzled as to why he was so willing to go now, but a closer investigation revealed all she needed. Big Mac had the telltale look of fear in his eyes, he walked more hastily than needed, and he would occasionally catch Applejack looking at him and immediately facing forward again. Is he afraid of Flynn? She thought, making a quick glance at the monkey-like being through her peripheral vision. Flynn too found the red colt's sudden terror confusing. He looked back to when he met him moments before to try and understand the pony's fear. The Cadet gazed up at the trees in the orchard with intrigue. He had no clue what made for a well-cared-for crop, but if what he saw before at Appleloosa was any indication, this particular orchard made for a great rival. What really separated the two was that while this orchard was far larger than the first, the trees that made it up were smaller. As a result, the Firemoth towered over the farmland, easily visible to all. Then again, subtlety was distasteful. The farm buildings the inhabitants lived in was a few hundred meters away from his position, but he knew better than to make the civilians a target by parking his 'Mech there - even if they were only a bunch of talking horses. Under normal circumstances, he would have parked the Firemoth within the outer edges of the artificial forest. However, the orchard here was so vast that he would have to cross as much as a kilometer and a half of grove to get from the 'ideal' parking spot and the town. Flynn was too suspicious to allow himself to be outside sprinting distance of his 'Mech in case something unexpected happened. And while he did not want to admit it, he felt... vulnerable outside his 'Mech. He was trained since early childhood to be a MechWarrior above all else, but to be exposed like this, out where the lowliest infantryman or even a disillusioned and especially bold civilian could harm him. He simply felt anxious almost beyond belief even if he did not easily show it in his outward expression and had little reason to be worried in the first place. There was a word for this feeling of helplessness when dealing with a situation one was not skilled at: Powlessness. After making another glance back at his 'Mech to check if it was secure, Flynn was about pace off to the barn when out of the corner of his eye did he see a horse charge towards him fifty meters. A small, red, panicked horse at that. The already on-edge Flynn tersely sunk low to the ground, ready and waiting for the ideal moment to tackle the equine head on. The colt seemed so oblivious to the world that it did not react initially to the MechWarrior's sudden sprint. If anything, the horse seemed to speed up out of desperation once it noticed him. Flynn rushed by leaning forward to use his shoulders for more force, trying to emulate the blitzing style of 'American rules' football that Elementals loved to play. However, Flynn was not an Elemental. He was physically fit and well-toned, sure, but he lacked the gargantuan stature the infantrymen had. In addition, while the pony was little, it was definitely the equivalent of strong among its kind. By the time the two were within ten meters of each other, it became clear that neither side was going to yield. At five their bodies tensed up in preparation for impact, each letting out a low grunt while the horse lowered its head to straighten it with its body. At collision, the colt rammed into Flynn's unprotected stomach, and instinctively shot its head up with enough force to flip the Cadet off the ground as it continued on. Flynn yelped in shock and landed flat on his back, moaning from the abrupt, blunt pain he was in. It quickly dawned on him that he may have made a needlessly reckless decision by charging a horse dead on. Even if it was a smaller, less menacing by nature horse than the ones he was familiar with. Flynn took the opportunity to ask himself the question he should have beforehand: Why would I do this? The pony was fleeing from something like a coward, and the Cadet was just in the way. Embracing cowardice was shameful, but he had no obligation to get involved. He was provoked to act out of reflex, but it was not inherently the pony's fault either. The Cadet rolled over and looked up to see that the colt staring back at him a couple feet away. “Sorry about that,” it said with the sound of remorse filming its words. “You are forgiven,” Flynn replied as he proceeded to ignore his pain and stand up. The difference in height between the two was not as significant as the one between him and Braeburn. This pony was about half a foot taller than the first. Its coat and mane resembled the red and yellow found on Hell Horses, albeit brighter and darker respectively. Like Braeburn, the pony had green eyes and an apple symbol on its flank - this one of a green apple sliced in half, revealing the insides.“I am Cadet Flynn of Clan Wolf. I am seeking the pony named Applejack, do you know where I may find her?” “She's mah sister,” The colt answered in a mellowed-out state, the complete opposite of how it acted only a minute before. “Where is she-” WHAM! Both turned their attention to see an orange pony, this one a mare, recoil off the leg of Flynn's Firemoth. Its bright yellow mane and tail were fashioned into... ponytails via two oversized crimson beads. The horse wore a stetson hat much like its cousin and seemed to have 'freckles' on its face. Lastly, instead of Braeburn's single apple, of a triad of the fruit was on her flank. The two swiftly walked up to the dazed equine. “That is your sibling. Quiaff?”Flynn asked rhetorically. “Eeyup.” Having assessed the situation, Flynn made one last check of his Firemoth and set his mind on the task at hand: To become acquainted with a town brightly odd-colored ponies in the hopes that it would help him locate the Founder. If one is going to forge their path, they need to know as much as they can about where they are going. Flynn bemused, recollecting a fitting quote he once heard, of when and where he could not remember. “If a man does not know to what port he is sailing, no wind is favorable.”