//------------------------------// // Chapter 30 // Story: The Book of Friendship // by BillyColt //------------------------------// Chapter 30 “Hey, I can walk,” said Barrel, wobbling a little where he stood. Though as he was a mere two steps away from his bed, saying he could walk might have been a bit of a premature assessment. Tap anxiously watched him, tapping her hoof against the floor. “Think you can make it to the safehouse?” she asked. “Sure...” Barrel said, though he halted a little. Tap moved to the window and looked outside. Ponies were scurrying down the roads as soldiers took their places, getting ready for the impending pegasus attack. Scroll, it turned out, had been right. She just hoped that she and her brother could make it to somewhere safe in time. There was a knock on the tavern door. “Who on...” Tap started, but somehow she got a funny feeling she knew. She stomped her way out into the main room of the tavern and up to the front door, and opened it. “What is it, Scroll?” Scroll seemed a little taken aback. “I was just coming to check on you and stuff...” “We’re fine,” said Tap. “We were just leaving.” “Good, good...” said Scroll, nodding. “So what are you doing?” she asked, tapping her hoof. “I’m going to try something,” said Scroll. “I kinda have a plan.” Tap stared at him. “A plan.” She said flatly. “You have… a plan.” “Yes...” Scroll nodded. “There’s a lot of spare food and other things over at the library from the Fraternity. Blankets, medicine, all that. I’m going to try to give it to the pegasus ponies.” Tap’s jaw dropped and she gaped at him. “C... come in here for a moment,” she said, standing aside. “Really?” “Just get in here,” she pressed, practically shoving him inside. She shut the door behind her with an audible latching sound, and wheeled around to him. “Are you nuts?” she hissed. Scroll took a step backwards. “I...” He fumbled. “I’m out of ideas, Tap,” he confessed. “I don’t know what else I can do. I just know this: the pegasi attack because they’re after the food. They can’t make anything themselves. Maybe... if we just give them the food, they’ll go away.” “You think playing nice with the pegasi, the guys who send tornados to rip through the town, is gonna work?” “Has anyone tried?” Scroll shrugged. Tap just shook her head and snorted. “Y... you. You just... just...” She groaned. “I’ll go now, let you get to the safehouse...” said Scroll. “Just... you two stay safe.” Tap raised her head as he turned around and started walking out of the tavern. This was stupid. This was the worst idea she had ever heard. He was about to get himself killed if he followed through with this. Worst of all, Scroll probably knew that. Her eyes frantically scanned the room and fell upon a large bottle on the counter. Perfect. THWACK! ___________ Brother White briefly contemplated a fear of heights as he looked over the terrace. The outside of the fortress was a snaking system of walkways and towers, sprawling over a giant floating rock like some kind of uneven growth. Some of the towers were pristine and shiny, while others were lopsided, chipped, and crooked. “Quite a view, isn’t it?” asked Aq. General Monarch had been so kind as to permit Brother White to take a stroll along the outside of the fortress, with its ostensibly scenic stone pathways overlooking the endless water. White could only think that it was trying to emulate the grace and beauty of Canterlot, but it had been cobbled together by a pony who had only ever heard of the place. He’d also apparently only ever heard of pleasing architecture in general. “Yeah,” said White, looking over the sea. “I remember one time we went on vacation on an island and spent a day in a town on a cliffside overlooking the beach. Water as far as the eye could see. It’s like that here, except everywhere. No land in sight.” He scratched the floor with his hoof. “You think that’d be awesome or terrifying for a swimmer?” he asked. “I mean, on the one hoof there’s a lot of water. On the other hoof... what happens when you want to stop swimming?” “Um...” said Aq. “I’d never really thought about that. I just assumed I’d drown if I fell off.” “Well, they could always fish you back out,” said White. “Or get you out with those flashy transport things.” “I suppose they could...” Aq mused. “Still, I don’t fancy myself stupid enough to fall off.” “You could slip or trip,” said White. “Or take a dip...” “Huh?” “Sorry,” said White. “Just thought that could make a catchy tune.” He turned around. “I think I should return to my work.” “But...” Aq peered at him. “You don’t have any work right now. This is your time off...” White sauntered up to him and looked him square in the face. “I’m bored. My work keeps me from being bored.” Aq took a step back. “Well...” he said, looking around them and hemming a little. “We’ll… see what we can do about that.” There was a pause as he stood, looking back at the expectant Brother White with staring, uncertain eyes. “Right, follow me.” ___________ Brother Scroll found himself feeling very sore indeed when he came aware again. “Gnuuuuughhh...” Scroll groaned. “Did I get drunk again?” He blinked as his eyes refused to properly adjust to the light. There was nothing but a dim lantern to illuminate what must have been somepony’s basement or cellar. “You had a bottle,” said Tap, her voice little above a mutter. Through the thick walls they could all hear the faint blowing of cannons and guns. The battle had begun. Scroll sat up, stroking his sore head with a hoof. “My head...” He looked around as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. A large pony, who he quickly reasoned was Barrel, sat in the corner, panting for breath. “Guess I missed my plan...” said Scroll. “I don’t think it would’ve worked,” said Tap. “Back to the drawing board...” Scroll muttered with a sigh. “Yeah, you do that,” said Tap, “we got plenty of time to just sit here.” He couldn’t tell whose basement it was, but he guessed it was nopony he knew. It was full of danky old wooden furniture, shelves, and chests. He sighed as he leaned back in an old stuffy armchair that had likely been a snack to a number of vagabond moths, listening to the faint murmur of cannonfire from outside. “Hey mister?” asked a voice. Scroll looked next to him and saw a young filly looking up at him. “Are you the mission guy?” “Um... Yes?” said Scroll, bracing himself for a painful jeer. “I miss the house,” said the filly. “I liked staying there during attacks.” Scroll sighed and sagged a little into his chairs. “I miss it too...” he said softly. He missed the house. He missed White and Clip. He missed having a family here on the island. Well, he reasoned, at least Tap’s talking to me again. “I liked the pies...” said the filly. Tap walked over next to him. “Looks like somepony’s a fan of your cooking.” “Finally, a victory.” Scroll smiled self-deprecatingly and weakly bucked the air. “Small steps, right?” asked Tap. “I... liked... the pies... too...” Barrel panted. “Well, sad to say,” said Scroll, “but the pies are off the table for the near future. They just take too much time and resources to make. Though maybe I could make lemon bars...” “Hard times,” quipped Tap. A particularly loud bang resounded from outside, making them all jump. “I hope we don’t lose our trees,” Barrel said softly. “I remember… we used to have a pineapple tree, didn’t we, Tap?” Tap smiled and looked down. “Yeah…” she said. “I remember that.” "What’s pineapple?” asked the filly. “Oh…” said Tap, rolling her eyes. “It’s a funny little fruit.” “It tasted like, really tangy,” said Barrel. “Almost stung a bit, kinda.” “That’d be the citric acid,” Scroll added. “Acid?” asked Barrel, his eyes growing wide in horror. “We had a tree in our own little stake,” said Tap, chuckling softly. “We could sell it for a nice price.” She traced an oblong circle on the floor she stood on and smiled wistfully down at it. “What happened?” asked Scroll. “What do you think?” asked Tap, looking up at him. “It burned down, and that was that.” Scroll jumped at a particularly loud bang from outside. “I hope the library doesn’t burn down,” Scroll muttered. Then he sulked. “Knowing my luck...” “Hope does not spring eternal?” Tap asked in feigned shock. “Well... that was kinda White’s department...” Scroll admitted. “But still, I just need another idea.” Tap looked up at the ceiling as a hail of gunfire sounded. “I don’t think they’re using tornados,” said Tap. “Odd.” “Maybe they decided they didn’t like getting chopped up by those... those...” Scroll couldn’t bring himself to spit the rest of the words out. “Maybe,” said Tap. “Or maybe they’re doing something else...” She looked over at Scroll. “I don’t think that plan of yours would’ve worked.” “Probably not,” said Scroll. “Guess I was just kinda... desperate for anything.” “Why don’t you just go home?” asked Tap. “I mean... if I were in your position I’d just see it as a waste of time.” “I don’t think trying to help other ponies is a waste of time,” said Scroll. “And...” He thought about it. About the idea of going home. “I don’t think I could.” “I don’t know,” said Tap. “I think you could easily sneak onto one of the ships.” “No, not like that,” said Scroll. “I don’t think I could bring myself to. Maybe earlier I could, but now...” He looked up at the ceiling. “Before I joined the Fraternity I felt like crud. No friends. No confidence. I just sort of sat around and did my thing. Then I joined and, well... I met White. I met you and Barrel. I met Clip.” He looked back down. “Maybe I wasn’t completely honest the other day. Maybe part of it was just... I felt like I was doing something worthwhile. Like my life had meaning. Not that it really makes me feel great right now.” “So what’s the part that stops you from leaving?” asked Tap. Scroll sat quietly for a moment. “I think about White. And about the promise I made. And I think about how if I give up, I’ll remember it for the rest of my life, and I’ll just wonder if there wasn’t something else I could have done.” He looked at her. “I’m not a very bold pony, Tap. I think I’m almost a coward.” Tap sat there in silence for a minute. Then she said, “Well, I wouldn’t really call you a coward. I mean, you tried my firewhiskey.” Scroll chortled. “So...” Tap paused. “What was that you were on about, over at the storehouse?” she asked. “The whole ‘this used to be somepony’s house’ thing?” “Well... ahem...” Scroll cleared his throat. “Well, you know how this town gets, well, attacked, all the time by the other ponies?” “Yeah...?” asked Tap. “Well, that happens,” Scroll continued. “And ponies die.” “And?” asked Tap. “I haven’t exactly seen a lot of newborn foals on my mission...” said Scroll. “There aren’t a lot of new, young ponies to replace the ponies who get killed or kidnapped, and so...” He took another breath and looked at her. “The population gets smaller. Tap... the town is shrinking...” “Oh...” said Barrel. “Ohhhhh...” “That’s the thing,” said Scroll. “The island, it... it isn’t going to last. Not like this. The earth ponies will keep fighting with the unicorns and the pegasi for I dunno how long, and, maybe the best-case scenario is that the last few earth ponies realize that everyone else is dead and they leave. And, well...” Scroll had not taken a breath at all in that sentence, and began to compensate for lost air. Tap, meanwhile, sat in stunned silence. “Well...” said Barrel. “We gotta stop it, then.” Tap might’ve rebuffed this. She might not have. But the conversation ended suddenly, brought to an end by a series of loud thumps from upstairs, and everypony fell silent. After another pause, they could hear faint hoofsteps above. Tap frantically fidgeted. “Shit!” whispered Tap. “I forgot my gun! Everyone hide!” She blew out the lantern and the ponies all scrambled to get behind something. Barrel and the filly dragged themselves behind some chests, while Scroll ducked under a shelf. He sat there, staring up into the darkness, almost afraid to breathe. A loud thump banged on the door to the cellar. Scroll strained his ears, and he thought he heard a voice come from above, but he couldn’t make out the words. The thump came again. Scroll inched backwards in his hiding place, and brushed up against someone else. He let out an excited, high-pitched squeak and jumped, hitting his head on the shelf above him. Hooves seized him, one of them clamping his mouth shut. “Shhh!” Tap whispered next to him. The thumps continued. “They’re gonna break down the door!” “What do we do?” Scroll asked in a frantic hush. “I don’t know...” said Tap. The thumps stopped for a moment. “Maybe they’ll just pass by...” Scroll held his breath, as though worried that letting out a relieved sigh would signal fate itself to crash down the door. But clearly Tap had jinxed it herself. There was a thunderous crash, and the door burst open. A dim sliver a light peered down. “And gotcha!” cheered a voice from above; a voice Scroll recognized. ___________ White was back in that miserable, grey little room, sitting behind a cold, marble desk. He thought back to the extravagant luxuries in his room and the shining turrets on the outside of the fortress, and White was reminded of something from his foalhood. Once, when he had been in a school choir, his class had gone to Canterland to play some music. Canterland was a fun little amusement park, full of bright colors and fun games. But the choir went backstage, and there they saw that the scenic displays were hollow and propped up with bits of wood. White found that the fortress was a lot like that, except with less roller coasters and more misery. “So are you gonna be less useless this time?” asked the earth pony before him. “I’m trying,” said White. He leaned backwards, as though slightly afraid the earth pony was going to explode at him. “Now, sir, what’s your name?” The earth pony was thin and gray, raggedy in such a way that White couldn’t be sure if he was just like that or if the unicorns had been mistreating him. It was likely both. “Duster,” he said. “And...” White leaned forward. “What do they have you do, Duster?” Duster’s eyes shifted. “Some weird construction thing. I dunno what it is. They have me putting this same thing together over and over again... I dunno what it’s supposed to be, I’m good at cleaning garbage.” “You’re a garbage pony?” Duster snorted. “Never been afraid of getting dirty.” “Huh...” said White, nodding. “More than I can say...” “So yeah. I dunno what it is. I think it’s some kind of metal frame... they have me put it together with bolts and everything. But I don’t know what it is.” “A frame?” asked White. “That sounds like... Hm.” He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe it’s part of something else? Something bigger? “That makes the most sense,” said Duster. He looked at the door. “Wait, what are we talking about?” “Well,” said White, levitating a quill. “It’s my... job here to help you. And I can’t do that unless I get a complete picture. And Duster?” “Yeah?” “I don’t think they want us see the complete picture.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I think they’re trying to hide something from me, and you too.” He smiled. “So can we keep a little secret? Like friends?” Duster narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, and then turned to look around the room. Then he looked back at White. “What is this?” he asked. “Some kind of trick?” “No!” said White. “Duster…” “The fuck are you calling me by name?” asked Duster. “I don’t even know you—” “My name is Brother Pearly White,” he said instantly. “I’m from a nice suburb in northern Equestria, with a sister and two brothers, I got the lead in the school musical four years in a row, every year at Nightmare Night I won all the costume awards, I’m a member of the Fraternity of the Joyous Friends of Princess Celestia, and…” He took a deep breath and looked at Duster, who stared back at him in stark, stunned silence. “And I am desperately trying to help. And I can help you if you let me. So…” He leaned back in his seat. “Now you know me!” Duster stared at him, slack-jawed. “Uhh…” he said. “I cleaned garbage… I think I said that…” “Yes you did,” said White. “Not afraid to get dirty. See? I’m getting to know you!” Duster stared blankly at him. “So listen, you don’t have to trust me,” said White. “Asking you to trust me is… probably kind of a dumb idea. So if you feel you have secrets or things you don’t want the unicorns to know, that’s fine. But I want to know what the unicorns are having you do. You can tell me that, right?” Duster narrowed his eyes. “I guess…” And then a thought clicked into White’s head. Garbage… he thought. Clip! “The foals.” “Huh?” “Do you know where the foals are?” Duster tilted his head. “Not really… I’ve heard of some folks being captured with their foals, but I dunno what they do with them.” White looked down at the desk. “If I were you,” suggested Duster, “I’d question the soldiers. They’re the ones who do it. They snatch us and give us over someone else to sort us.” “So,” said White. “I find who they turn you into, I find the kids?” “Sounds like it.” “Good,” said White. “That’ll be all for now, I think.” Duster shrugged and got up, heading back to the door. “But Duster,” said White. “I’d like you to keep an eye out for things. Tell me anything you’re suspicious of, any ideas you have about what they have you up to, anything you can figure out about what they’re doing…” “Isn’t that all pretty much the same thing?” White deflated in his seat. “Yeah, I guess.” Duster went for the door and, before he left, gave one more curious glance at Brother White. ___________ The figure descended the steps. Scroll could barely see him, but he knew it was a pegasus soldier, limber and lithe. “Helloooo?” called the voice. It was high-pitched and hollow. And then Scroll realized who it was: It was Eagle, the pony who had tried to kill him before. Eagle stood there, looking around. Beside Scroll, Tap was clenching her teeth, and Scroll was sure she was wishing she had her gun. Scroll couldn’t see anything on him, but he was sure that the soldier was armed. “Anypony home?” Eagle asked. “Nopony hiding, I hope? I don’t like anyone who hides...” Scroll could hear him humming something to himself as he milled around, checking for anyone. Scroll looked in the direction he thought Barrel and the filly had gone. Eagle seemed to be walking there. Scroll could feel Tap tense up next to him. His eyes followed Eagle as his brain pounded in his ears. He needed to do something, but what? Only one thought occurred to him. The same seem to have occurred to Tap, too, because both of them did the exact same thing. A surge shot through both of them as they lept from their hiding places and threw themselves at Eagle. Eagle let out a surprised yelp as they tackled him, smashing him into a barrel (but not, thankfully, into Barrel). Scroll felt a flap of feathers in his face and stumbled backwards, tripping over a wayward bucket. Eagle spun around and clocked Tap across the face with a rear hoof, knocking her to the floor. Scroll fumbled, trying to get to his feet, and squeaked out, “Tap!” Eagle stopped and Scroll watched as his shadowy form slowly turned to face him. Then, he said in a dangerously low hiss, “You!” Scroll stepped backwards, his mouth clenched in fear. “You’re the little pussy who got me on the tornados,” Eagle growled. “I’m gonna make you bleed out for that.” Scroll took a step back. “Tap? Barrel? Other filly?” he asked. “Run!” And Brother Scroll, who was almost a coward, turned and bolted up the stairs. He didn’t know whose house it was. It didn’t really matter at the moment. At this time, he had two options: Run for the door outside, or run up the next flight of stairs. He heard a clatter and a flap of wings from below, signaling Eagle’s pursuit. Scroll ran upstairs, only taking one terrified glance down below. He could see Eagle, his wings tucked at his side, speeding up the stairs. Scroll galloped as fast as his legs would take him, and he heard Eagle’s high voice screaming. “You’re dead, do you hear me?! DEAD!” Scroll emerged at the top of the stairs in a hallway. He ran for the first door and reached for the doorknob... and it was locked. He couldn’t tell what seemed louder: his blood pounding or the hoofsteps. Then he felt something grip his head, and then his head was slammed into the door. “Oh, you wanna go inside?” Eagle laughed, pulling Scroll’s head back. “All you have to do is knock!” Scroll’s head slammed into the door again. His eyes went bleary and he saw cracks starting to form in the wooden door. His glasses broke and fell off of his face, clattering to the floor in pieces. Eagle went for another slam, but this time Scroll pressed his hooves to the door. He gritted his teeth, pushing back against the pegasus soldier. Eagle pressed on him, making his knees bend. In a ditch of effort, Scroll pushed off the doorway, making both of them stumble away from the door. But Eagle spread his wings and gave on last heft, and both of them crashed into the door, smashing it right off its hinges. Scroll flew into the room, slamming into the floor, coughing. Eagle stepped into the room. It was a large bedroom with a closed glass window on the end. There was a beat-up old wardrobe, likely the veteran of countless battles, next to a dusty bed with a chest at the end. Why Scroll took all these details in at a time like this he was not really sure. “Ohh ho ho ho!” said Eagle. He walked up to Scroll, who was shakily standing up, and clocked him across the face with a hoof. Scroll shook and fell back to the floor. “Oh, come on!” said Eagle, kicking him in the chest. “That easy? You almost made me think you were gonna put up a fight!” Scroll tried to crawl away, so winded he couldn’t even groan. “Nah,” said Eagle, walking around him. “You’re just a little pussy, ain’t ya?” He lowered his face down to Scroll’s. “A spineless little bitch. Bet you’re hoping your little filly friend comes to save you.” He looked at the doorway. “No,” he said, taking the rifle from over his shoulder. “Just you and me!” Scroll looked up at him and noticed something about Eagle’s face. Apart from a scratch her and there, his features were smooth and his eyes bright and eager, and his steps were full of spring, but not strength. And Scroll came to a realization. “You’re just a colt…” he whispered. “You’d be going to my old school about now… You, you’re barely even a stallion… how can somepony your age like you be…” His breath shorted in despair. “Like you?” Eagle snorted and struck Scroll over the back with the butt of his rifle. “Life’s a bitch!” he sneered. Scroll tensed up and whimpered at the blow, and Eagle followed with another and another, before Eagle finally threw the rifle aside. “Stop...” said Scroll. “Please, stop...” Eagle just laughed as he turned Scroll onto his back. He stood over him, smirking down. ___________ White decided to start keeping a journal. It wasn’t too much to ask Aq for some paper, a quill, and an inkpot. “I like to keep track of what I’m doing,” White had said, “keep notes, that sort of thing.” That had seemed to be enough for Aq, and White had been left in peace. He looked over the fancy mahogany desk in his room. He felt he’d have to thank Monarch for his hospitality, no matter the ulterior motive. White just needed to figure out what that ulterior motive was. He tapped the point of the quill against the paper. Scroll would be better at this than him... The door opened. Brother Shine stepped in, looking around the room suspiciously. “Why’d he give you better digs?” asked Shine. “I dunno,” said White, “you want the desk?” “Uhh...” “Okay!” White piped, sitting down on his bed. He clapped his hooves together. “Let’s work our way through this: What are the earth ponies doing?” “I dunno,” said Shine. “The unicorns are just having them do some kind of... labor or something. I don’t know all the details.” “I asked one of them,” said White, “and he doesn’t even know what it is he’s building. I suspect it’s part of something larger, and I want to know what it is.” “What, you mean like an assembly line?” asked Shine. “Sure, sure,” said White. “Now...” His expression turned serious. “The unicorns are exploiting them, and Monarch doesn’t seem exactly forthcoming on what’s going on. Now, I want to know exactly what it is the earth ponies are building. Now, you’re going to help me—” “No.” “So we...” White blinked. “Huh?” “I’m not doing it,” said Shine. “If it means getting in trouble with Monarch, I’m not doing it.” “Shine, listen,” said White, “I get that this might be a little... dangerous, but it’s our job as missionaries to help them.” “I tried helping them,” said Shine flatly. “Same as you, I got assigned to that... that princess-forsaken island. And you know what happened?” He walked up to White. “I’ll tell you. On my first day I was outside a little too late, and a gang walked over and beat me up. Brother Sky couldn’t fly without someone shooting at him. None of us felt safe for a moment. And then there was the general breathing down our necks every day, reviewing our letters home. If there was one thing in it he didn’t like he’d start making threats. And I’m pretty sure he meant all of them.” Brother Shine scowled. “No. They’d kill me if they wanted to and thought they could get away with it. I’m sick of it. I’m not lifting a hoof to help them, and I’m certainly not sticking my neck out for them.” He snorted. “So... can I go now, or was there something else?” White stared silently at him during his rant. “N...no,” he said at last. “You can go now.” Shine marched towards the door. White snorted softly and got up from his bed, heading over to the desk. “I’m not stopping, Shine,” said White. “Not as long as I can keep going.” “Your funeral,” Shine yawned, and with that he left the room, shutting the door behind him. ___________ Eagle snarled as he landed blow after blow into Scroll, his hooves striking his face, the sides of his head, his chest, and anywhere else he thought it’d hurt. Scroll stopped crying out in pain as his face grew red and purple, the blood blending into his already dark blue features. After a volley of blows, Eagle sat over him, panting. He grinned down sadistically as he heard Scroll making a loud sniff. “What’s the matter?” Eagle jeered. “Don’t have anything in you?” Scroll’s eyes fluttered. Although Eagle had tossed aside the rifle, he still had a pistol holster. If he could just reach it... He tried to sit up, but Eagle laughed and swatted him in the face again. “Oh, you want some more? Do you?” Eagle mocked. He lowered his own face in front of Scroll’s battered one, and Scroll opened his mouth. “Got something to say? Well, spit it out!” And Scroll did spit it out. He spat a wad of blood and snot right into Eagle’s face. Eagle let out a high-pitched yelp and stumbled backwards off of Scroll, rearing onto his hind legs. Seizing the opportunity, Scroll leapt up and charged. Eagled barrelled back, crashing into the wardrobe. They both let out a simultaneous “Oof!” as they stumbled down, Eagle to the side. Scroll backed away in time to watch as Eagle got up. The soldier glared at him, wiping the blood off of his face. “Oh,” said Eagle. “You think you’re clever, huh? Oh, you just pissed me off!” “Oh, please!” yelled Scroll, backing around the bed. “What are you gonna do? Kill me more?” Eagle and Scroll stood at opposite ends of the bed, Eagle glaring. Scroll braced himself as Eagle unfurled his wings, and then it seemed like time just about froze. Eagle lept from the floor over the bed, launching himself at Scroll. And then Scroll ducked behind the bed. A satisfying thud landed behind him. He didn’t bother to look, but he made a mad dash for the door. “NO YOU DON’T!” screamed Eagle, and Scroll, found himself knocked to the floor again as the other pony’s weight fell on top of him. After a brief struggle, Eagle grabbed him by the back of the neck and began dragging him back into the room. Scroll feebly swung his hooves at the empty air, trying to get his footing, but Eagle heft him up and tossed him towards the window. Scroll landed with a crash, winded from the impact. Eagle ran up to him and picked him up, standing up on his hind legs and pinning him to the wall. Scroll looked into Eagle’s mad, almost bestial face, and could see him panting. “Well...” said Eagle. “Any... last... words?” “Didn’t they ever teach you gun safety?” asked somepony else. Eagle turned his head and Scroll could see his eyes widen. Tap sat in the doorway, holding his rifle. “Don’t leave a loaded gun unattended,” said Tap. “Makes you look like a dipshit.” Eagle spun around, putting Scroll in a chokehold between them. Tap’s face was an unmoving, stone-faced scowl. “Let him go,” she said. “Or what?” asked Eagle, choking a nervous laugh. “You gonna shoot me through him? Don’t think you worked that out all the way.” “Well, it seems we have one of those...” Tap started. “Scroll, what’s that chess thing you told me about once? Where nopony wins? Boring sex or something?” “Really?” asked Scroll. “Now?” He squirmed a little, but Eagle kept a tight grip. His hind legs were still on the floor, but he couldn’t do anything with his front legs. Eagle peered around Scroll’s head to look at Tap. “Are you his girlfriend or something?” he asked. “No!” snapped Tap. “And I suggest you keep your mouth shut and just stand there.” “Riiiiiight, right...” said Eagle. Scroll saw out of the corner of his eye that his wing was slowly reaching down, his feathers inching towards the holstered revolver... Tap wouldn’t shoot. Scroll didn’t think so, not with him as Eagle’s pony shield. But Tap didn’t have a pony shield of her own. And with what strength he had left, he began to struggle. “Settle down, there, you—” Eagle started. But Scroll got the bearing he needed; he jumped. All Eagle could do was able to yell as they crashed through the glass window, too surprised to do anything else as they plummeted two stories down to the ground. Scroll opened his eyes and saw snow all around them. He had been relatively lucky—Eagle had broken his fall. Eagle, however, whined in pain. “Ah! Ah!” he cried. Scroll scampered off of him and Eagle rolled over onto his sides—his wings had contorted into shapes that Scroll, even as an earth pony, winced to look at, and shards of glass from the window had embedded themselves in his back. “I... I...” he choked, unable to string a coherent sentence through the gasps of pain, until his voice broke under the strain and his scream filled Scroll's ears, high and warbling like a foal’s. “Scroll!” called Tap. Scroll looked up and saw her peering out the window. “Are you alright? “Yeah,” said Scroll, nodding. “What were you doing?” asked Tap. “Gave me a fucking heart attack.” “He was pulling a gun!” “Shit...” The gunshots around them were growing less numerous by the second. The battle, it seemed, was in its tail-end, as the pegasi retreated up to the grey clouds above them. “What did they do?” asked Tap, looking over the whitened town. “They made a blizzard...” said Scroll. “Guess they didn’t have the ponypower to do that and a tornado...” Scroll looked back down at Eagle and saw him. He had gritted his teeth and his screams had dwindled into little high-pitched whining sounds. His eyes clamped shut as he weakly and feebly thrashed in the snow. Scroll saw Eagle, broken and impotent as a dying animal, and couldn't find it in himself to feel hate, or vengeance, or even anger. There was nothing to feel but pity. And as he felt the numbing cold of the white ground beneath them both, there was only one thing Scroll could think to say: "I think I should make some cocoa."