He could feel the pony's eyes burning a hole into his back, and he was getting sick of it. He wanted her to leave him be and go into her precious town already, but despite the fact that it was in plain view, she refused to go unless he escorted her fully in. Stubborn, to the very last. His fingers idly fiddled with the safety on his gun, but never fully turned it, sometimes just feeling the give on how much force it would take to turn it, sometimes just brushing it absentmindedly. He stared into the town, where all the happy healthy inhabitants went about their happy little lives.
He really didn't want to go in.
His scope moved over each pony in turn, all of them going about their normal lives. He suspected a few had noticed the smoke, judging by the occasional looks of curiosity in his general direction, but there were only a few that would come out here, and only when they felt the need to. There was a small crackling noise as the fire flared up at random, and the man turned around to see the large tail that was being turned on a spit. The pony had gotten her fill of food from plants, he, on the other hand, hadn't gotten anything to eat since the day before. And he was starved. If a pony did come to investigate the fire, they would find this runaway, and they would hurry her back into town, and he would be done with it.
Until then though, he would drag this out as long as he could. The tail crackled again and he quickly removed it from the spit and applied a strong machete swing to the end of it, cutting off the poison sac. It had helped to add flavor to the food, but now it was done and he didn't feel like getting poisoned. With a practiced smash of the hilt, he sent cracks running down the exoskeleton of the tail, allowing him to peel it off and reveal the tender meat underneath it. He rested the machete in the fire for a moment, watching the toxins that had clung to the blade catch on fire, when the sudden fire died out he removed the blade and cut the meat.
Several slices adorned his plate as he sat down across from the runaway. As he ate he kept a close eye on her, watching as his glare made her self conscious and twitchy. Eventually, the pressure grew too much for her as she suddenly blurted "What?"
"What's your name?" He took a bite of his food as he waited for the answer, his leer pinned to her.
"Sparkler."
"That's a nice name."
"Thanks."
"Your mother must have loved you very much to give you such a nice name."
She looked at the man aghast, not believing he was already getting onto this topic. "It's not your place to say that I don't think."
"Given that I saved your life because you felt otherwise, I think it's very much my place." He seemed completely unfazed by her anger at his words, his words holding a hint of heat, but somehow devoid of anger themselves. He tapped his plate with a finger before picking up the next piece of meat. Sparkler remained silent as she looked at him, and he returned the response, chewing thoughtfully across from her.
"It doesn't matter anyway, I had a temper tantrum and ran away."
"Hindsight is always twenty twenty."
"What?"
"Nothing." He let his gaze fall to his food, but didn't take any from the plate as his mouth was already half full of the strange meat. He tapped the plate again, this time to the tune of some strange irregular beat. He began to mumble under his breath, but Sparkler leaned forward, but it was still impossible to hear. Then, suddenly, he stopped altogether. the beat and the words ended and were replaced with silence as he took another piece of meat to fill his mouth.
Sparkler let the silence go on, happy that she was off the chopping block, but it wasn't long before she grew antsy of the inaction and found the need to start another dialogue. "Since I've told you mine, it would only be fair if you told me yours." He looked up from his plate and at her again. He swallowed his mouthful of food and looked at her in disbelief. Then, without warning, he stood up from the log, leaving his half full plate behind.
"Come on, we're going to town."
"What?"
"Come on."
She followed him as he tossed water over the fire and left the camp, a warm meal left behind. His gun swayed back and forth on his back like a metronome, and Sparkler found it drawing her entire attention until she suddenly came to realize they had entered the borders of town, and already they were beginning to get looks of curiosity. She glanced to the onlookers briefly before she looked at the man.
His breathing was heavy and erratic, his arms were crossed in a defensive manner in front of him and his eyes darted to each of those ponies who looked at him. "Where's your house?" Sparkler, instead of answering, took the lead of the small group and began to lead them in the right direction. His words had held a kind of terror she didn't think she would hear from him, and she wondered why the Everfree had been so normal to him, but the town was some nightmarish thing.
His footsteps plodded through the dirt behind her, the silent movements he usually displayed abandoned. She moved around ponies as she made her way through town, but when she stopped to make sure he was following he would always give the very same ponies a wide berth as he passed, like monsters who would attack him. As she was pondering this oddity she heard a call from up ahead. A familiar one.
"SPARKLER!" A cry of pure joy. She smiled as she looked to the owner. Derpy made her way over at blinding speed and wrapped Sparkler in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry Sparkler. I didn't mean any of it. I promise."
"It's okay mom, I know."
"Excellent, happy ending. I'm leaving now." The duo looked to the speaker and saw the man already turning to retreat, Derpy looked to Sparkler in confusion, but Sparkler was already preparing to speak out. She was interrupted as the man came to a sudden stop. Holding tightly to his leg, Sparkler recognized her younger sister.
"Thanks for bringing Sparkler home," Dinky said with a smile, looking up at the man. He was frozen in place and look of panic passed through his eyes. He didn't respond, only looking at her with wide eyes.
"Sis!" Sparkler eventually shouted. "That's not very nice to do."
Dinky looked at Sparkler, then back to the man, then let go of him, retreating towards her family. He, in turn, immediately began retreating from the town, his pace picking up until a swift jog took him outside and back to his camp, where heavy exhales were forced from his lungs. Not from physical exhaustion, of course, but he had certainly been through a lot mentally that day. And he didn't look forward to meeting with ponies anytime soon, or ever again, for that matter.
As these thoughts reassured him of future peace he looked to where Sparkler had been sitting and his blood froze, her stuffed animal still rested there, tucked behind the log and almost completely out of sight from anywhere in the camp proper. He looked at it, as if not believing it's existence, then fought back the urge to curse aloud.