Fallout: Equestria - Rolling Bones

by Honey Mead

Chapter 3-1: Baggage

Fallout Equestria: Rolling Bones
Chapter 3-1: Baggage

I let my head rest against the rough stone crenulation, limbs dangling over either side, high atop the fort’s wall.

Turning my head away from the early evening sun, I looked out over the fort. Most of the yard was taken up by a mass of nearly identical white or blue tents staked in even rows, broken up by the occasional clearing, where ponies could gather in small groups. There were only three places that ignored the pattern.

Just inside the front gate was a large pathway that led to the Wagon Depot at the back. Taking up about an eighth of the fort, the Wagon Depot was where old train cars were brought in to be converted into the more versatile wagons that were used for caravans. Immediately to the left of the gate was the large mess tent that could fit about a third of the Watchers at a time. Most of the other tents positioned on either side of the entrance road were designated for the majority of the medical work that was done.

I watched the ponies below as they flittered between the tents. At first it looked completely random, like everypony was moving without rhyme or reason. Eventually, however, I noticed that they were beginning to pool near front gates where a quick built stage had been set up recently. I wondered idly about that for all of five seconds before shrugging it off.

Wiggling deeper into the crenellation, I put my forehooves behind my head and made myself comfortable. The colored lines that had been cluttering my vision since the day I snapped the PipBuck to my leg disappeared as my eyelids slid closed. I was left with the quiet warmth of the afternoon sun as a cool breeze slipped through my feathers. Nap time.

Easily my favorite spot in the entire fort, the parapet gave me the one thing I couldn’t seem to get anywhere else: privacy. Sometimes, that could be the most precious commodity. Three flights of narrow stairs ensured I wouldn’t be bothered unless absolutely necessary. The downside was, of course, that everypony knew exactly where to find me.

“Luuuckyyy!”

Aloe… if there was one pony who could ruin a perfectly good nap.

I let my head flop to the side and gave her a smile. Hurdles was there too, which shouldn’t have surprised me. “Lucky isn’t home right now,” I called down to the pair at ground level, “please leave a message after the beep.”

“Really? You’re no—”

“Beep.”

Hurdles snorted. “Oh come off it, Lucky, and get down here. We’re going to be late for the meeting.”

Oh yeah, that’s what everypony was up to. I flipped a wing dismissively and turned away from my friends, staring up at the clouds.

“Everypony’s supposed to be there. You’re going to get in trouble… again.”

“If he wants be an ass, let him, we need to get back before we’re late too.”

“But…” Aloe whinnied and stamped a hoof.

I could feel her eyes trying to bore into the side of my head, a pair of blue tinted needles pricking at my scalp. The sweat on my brow had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. She broke first—thank the goddesses—eventually agreeing with Hurdles and leading them away.

Almost cheering in triumph, I managed to restrain myself to a smile as I relaxed, sinking deeper into my little nook.

The entire thing was a bad joke that had gotten out of hoof. Who in their right mind would want to travel through the wasteland for months on end? Not I, thank you very much. Dise might not have been the greatest place to live, but it sure as shit beat out a raider’s cook pot.

Yawning and stretching, I pushed the thoughts away and focused on the sun’s warmth against my coat. It really was a nice day for a nap.

A glorious twenty minutes of napping came to a sudden, and sodden, end when I was doused by a bucket of water.

Sputtering, spitting, and gasping, I managed to fall onto the walkway, instead of the open air.

Cursing, I wiped my mane from my eyes, parting the red and white hairs to reveal the pony responsible. I’m not sure what I expected, but I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Tracker. His lack of humor at that moment was sort of ironic, but not entirely unsurprising—my cursing probably didn’t help.

“Jus’ where are ya suppose’ ta be, colt?”

I stood, wiping the water from my muzzle. The meeting going on behind me tugged too strongly, and I couldn’t keep myself from glancing over my wither, all but admitting to Tracker that I knew exactly what he was talking about and dooming any attempt to feign ignorance.

Shit.

Tracker wasn’t livid, but he wasn’t happy either. He paced inside my tent while I sat as contritely as I could on my bed and waited. I did my best not to watch him, mostly because I didn’t want to get dizzy. Any time I tried to speak, I would barely get a single syllable out before Tracker’s baleful gaze locked onto mine; I wisely kept quiet.

Instead, I let my eyes and mind wander. Which was really boring because there was nothing for me to look at. The only poster I had stuck to the wall was old and faded; a profile of Dash, flight goggles propped above her eyes, looking out into the distance. That held my attention for all of a minute. The ground and ceiling were equally boring. A book sat on the table near the entrance, an incomplete copy of Tales of a Junktown Horseshoe Vendor, half of its pages lost before I’d even gotten it.

My eyes drifted back to Tracker for a moment before I tore them away.

Without really thinking about it, I lifted Dash from around my neck and held her up. She looked amazing, especially given the years and my not entirely careful treatment of her. It was kind of surprising to realize. I’d had her for nearly a decade and a half without her suffering even the most minor of scratches or loss of hair. Odd that.

I let Dash drop, her reassuring weight returning to my chest.

I still didn’t understand the issue. So I’d willfully avoided going to some useless meeting about something that I didn’t care about and had nothing at all to do with me. It wasn't like I'd never done the same thing a hundred times before. I was about to get my answer.

A second set of hoof beats joined Tracker’s, quickly followed by two more. I looked up in time to see Gray push into the tent, agitation written large across her face, with Aloe and Hurdles fast on her tail. My impromptu smile withered in the face of Gray’s angry glare, and I swallowed hard as I realized that I might have screwed up more than I thought. A quick glance at my friends didn’t help to set me at ease; Aloe looked downright distraught, almost frightened, while Hurdles was pleased as punch, which could only mean one thing: I was in deep shit.

At least Tracker had stopped pacing.

“Lucky…”

I glanced up when Gray’s voice faltered. Her burning gaze smoldered through the tears blurring her soft grey eyes, her left ear drooping, quivering slightly. Then she was gone, galloping out of the tent, a streak of grey, disappearing before anypony could so much as blink.

“Nurse?” I called out, far too late and too weakly to even hope for her to have heard. Looking between my remaining friends, I found my voice. “Is somepony going to tell me what in Tartarus is going on?”

Pacing: a sign of useless resistance to events that have already spread beyond the hope of control. When a pony has all the energy to move a mountain but lacks the mountain, they pace. They’ll pace until they wear out themselves or the ground, whichever comes first.

Nurse Gray had just got a good pace going when she spotted Aloe and Hurdles. The worried expression she’d been wearing raced straight through relieved, past surprised, and came to a full stop at severely annoyed.

The wide road leading to the gate already contained almost everypony who didn’t have duties to see to or otherwise couldn’t attend the meeting. They converged at the back, just before the wagon depot where a temporary stage had been set up the night before.

Veering expertly through ponies, Gray ignored them as she fought her way upstream, making as much of a beeline as she was able toward the pair of younger ponies. “Please tell me you found him.”

“Oh, we found him alright,” Hurdles groused, “for all the good it did us. I don’t see why you’re so worried. It’s not like he actually needs to be here.”

Gray didn’t bother to correct him. “Where is he?”

Hurdles shrugged. “Where he always is when he’s supposed to be somewhere else.”

Nurse Gray groaned, pinching her muzzle with a fetlock and barely suppressing the desire to curse. “Great. Fine, thank you for trying. Go ahead and join everypony else.”

Aloe looked like she wanted to add something, but Hurdles was already moving with the flow and calling after her. Sighing, she trotted off to catch the large red pony.

Gary glanced around at the assembly. Unicorns and Earth Ponies all, it was like somepony had scattered a tub of sprinkles all over the place; it didn’t take her long to spot the only chocolate sprinkle. It helped that he was standing off by himself near the edge of the road.

Without another thought for the two younger ponies, Gray took off at a brisk trot. She skirted the conglomeration until she had a straight shot to the only ghoul in camp. He noticed her approach quickly and matched her expression as best his face would allow, loose flesh notwithstanding. Without even making it within speaking distance, the two nodded at each other knowingly and Tracker turned to leave, reaching a canter as he disappeared between the surrounding tents.

“Lucky?”

With a long suffering smile, Gray turned to face Echo. Average height for a stallion, Echo had a grey coat similar to her’s and a short cropped black mane. Living and working in such close proximity, they shared a companionable relationship, though calling them friends might have been a bit of a stretch.

“Who else?”

“He’s not a colt anymore,” Echo said as they both turned and joined the crowd. “It’s time he started acting like it, and if you keep coddling him he’ll never have a reason to grow up.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken. He’s just mature in all the wrong ways.”

“He’s lazy and—”

“And too clever by half, I know. When you can actually get him to focus on something, however, he’s better in five minutes then some who’ve spent years trying to learn it. You know full well why he is the way he is.”

“You’re completely right. I have an idea, let’s actually put his mark to use—”

Gray rounded on the stallion, bringing him to a quick stop with their noses touching and horns crossed. Despite being a good hoof and a half taller, Echo couldn’t shake the feeling that she was glaring down at him. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. He is my responsibility, not your’s. I won’t listen to your asinine suggestions.”

“I don’t see what donkeys have to do with anything.”

The mare growled, spinning around and smacking him with her tail before storming off through the herd and leaving Echo in her wake.

“Touchy, touchy,” Echo mumbled, shaking his head as he brushed off the less than courteous dismissal. At least now he understood that saying about a mother bear and her cub.

Pushing his way to the front, Echo took up a position where he was sure to be noticed by everypony. He’d be one of the first to thank and congratulate those who were going, and he’d make sure that he was seen doing so. Not that he cared, but it was important to keep up appearances.

He envied Lucky on that point. It would be nice to just shrug off his responsibilities and go do… whatever it was Lucky did with most of his time. Probably searching for his next break-up partner. If it weren’t for the hours, admittedly few, that he put in the First-Aid tents—and Gray’s efforts on his behalf—the colt would’ve been thrown out on his ass years ago. Echo had forced the issue a few times, to no avail. Gray couldn’t protect him forever though, and Echo looked forward to the inevitable day when he finally went just a little too far.

“Achoo!”

Echo recoiled from the nasal exspolsion, grimacing at the pony beside him.

Doctor Humors, one of the few ponies above Echo himself, and the last he wanted to deal with. Echo silently cursed, a stern reprimand for his obliviousness. If he’d been paying more attention he wouldn’t have chosen that spot, but for him to move now would be too obvious an insult, no matter the sneeze.

Managing to push out a grudging wish of good health, Echo was saved from listening to the wind bag by Caps Worth stepping up to the raised podium and clearing his throat.

Caps Worth smiled genuinely over the crowd, confidence oozing from his mustard face.

“We, The Watchers, have always put the needs of our fellow ponies before our own. We are tasked with the heavy burden of withering the weight of those who can not carry their own. We know in our hearts that this is the way that all ponies should act, were meant to act. So we lead the way, showing the way through actions instead of mere words.

“From the beginning we have worked within the NCA, partners rising out of the ashes of the world left to us by our ancestors. It has been a good relationship. We have been given unparalleled support and co-operation in our mission. Every city and town that flies the NCA’s banner is home to a chapter of Watchers. In return we assist the NCA in anyway that we can. The Goddesses willing, that will never change.

“One thing will change, however. For the first time since our founding, we will be stepping outside the NCA’s reach and protection. Our purpose, our calling, is to help all ponies; not just those who submit to the NCA’s rule. To cower behind The Great Bear’s protection while others suffer unaided is anathema to us, and it ends now. In two days time we will be embarking on the first expedition out beyond the NCA’s boards, reaching out to those who truly need our assistance. We will bring the Truth of our cause to them in a way that the NCA never could, with open hearts and helping hooves.”

Echo joined in the spontanious applause, clicking his hooves on the ground and rolling his eyes at the delighted expression on the merchant's face. Eventually, Caps Worth raised a hoof and brought the crowd back under control. His horn lit up to produce a scroll.

“Many of you volunteered to be a part of this expedition. Unfortunately, there is a limit on who and how many we came take. When I call your name, please join me here on the stage and be recognized. Dr. Humors…”

Echo joined in the requisite stomping as Caps Worth worked through the list of foals, he even managed to keep from rolling his eyes—most of the time. They all looked so pleased with themselves. They’d be lucky to survive a week.

“... Hurdles…”

The young stallion whooped in excitement, nearly prancing to join the growing line upon the stage, the foal.

It wasn’t that Echo wished them any ill will. Quite to the contrary, they’d better make it back safe and sound, or at least with all the wagons in tow. The amount of resources they were throwing at this little project baffled him. Two water talismans, three fully equipped box-cars, and more than twenty ponies. They weren’t so well to do as to write that kind of expenditure off.

“... Rose Blossom…”

Besides, he knew everyone of them on some level. Some of them were even friends, like Rose and Lucky… Lucky?

Echo frowned, dropping out of his thoughts and back to the present. He looked questioningly up at Caps Worth.

“Lucky Sevens,” The caravan’s leader called again. “Has anypony seen Lucky?”

Echo’s lips parted slowly at first, a slight shiver running up his hindlegs, across his back until it found release from his mouth. The sounds that escaped his lips bore all the resemblance to a laugh that a punch would to a hoofshake.

I lay on my cot, belly up, wings hanging over the edges, staring blankly up at the ceiling of my tent. The others were probably waiting for me to respond in some way. I could imagine Aloe’s worried expression, complete with limp ears and tucked tail wrapped around her hindleg, and Hurdles’ uncertain one, left ear forward while the right twitched erratically. Tracker was different of course. His milky eyes, ratty ears, and loose flesh were far less expressive than a non-ghoul pony’s. He was probably a little concerned, but that didn’t mean much; he was always concerned about me for some reason, like I’d ever given him a reason to doubt my ability to come out on top.

I glanced at the ponies around me and couldn’t suppress the smirk: nailed it.

“Lucky?” Aloe asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”

I gave her as genuine a smile as I could fake. “Yep, never better.”

Tracker clocked the top of my head. “Stop being an ass.”

After rubbing the offended spot with a wing, I did the only thing that seemed appropriate; I made fart sounds.

Tracker was less than amused, but I was ready for his second swing and dodged it easily by rolling forward and sitting up out of his reach.

“You’re no fun.”

Hurdles snorted. “Can’t you take anything seriously for even a few seconds?”

“Yes,” I said, schooling my face and giving Hurdles a flat look while silently counting to five. Then I blew a raspberry at him. “There, happy?”

“What are you, five?”

“Nope, I’m Sevens!”

“Screw you, Lucky!”

“I’m not really in the mood right now, maybe later.”

“Aaaaarrrrggggh!”

“No, no no, it’s ‘Aaaauuuggghhhh’!”

With that Hurdles stormed out of the tent, his tail lashing in agitation and muttering to himself. I was pretty pleased with myself, it was a new record after all. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was such a good idea to keep pushing his buttons like that, then I remember the look on his face and chuckled. He’d be fine in a few minutes and I’d find a way to make it up to him soon enough. I’d have plenty of time once we left…

I flopped back onto the cot, resuming my previous position and grunting, that thought had killed the mood right quick. Realizing I’d just thought in a Trackerism didn’t help either.

“Lucky?”

“Yes, Aloe?” I asked, holding Dash over my head to study for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Dash dropped back to my chest, and I glanced around, hoping to find something other than her to focus on. I was surprised to note that Tracker had disappeared, the old goat could be damn sneaky when he wanted. “Where did Tracker go?”

“Stop deflecting!”

“I’ll try, but I’m pretty sure that the physics won’t cooperate, I hear its laws are pretty strict.”

A yellow hoof touched my wither and my eyes followed it up to Aloe’s face. I silently cursed my own body’s reflexes. Her eyes were so big, giant pools of concern and worry; I didn’t stand a chance. “Talk to me.”

“About what? About how my future has been decided for me? About how I wasn’t even asked or given a chance to argue it? About how I’m being kicked out of my home? How about how I’m being sent out into a part of the wasteland so dangerous that nopony knows what’s out there? Or, I know, let’s talk about how many different ways I could die in the next months until we get back, if we’re lu—” I bit off the last bit, stopping myself too late and waiting for her to make the comment.

To my eternal gratitude, she didn’t say it, instead moving her hoof to my cheek, then my mane, pushing the hairs out of my face. “I’d rather not dwell on some of that, but if it’s what you need to talk about…”

“I don’t need to talk about any of it. It’s not like talking will change anything.”

“Says the pony who talked other ponies into doing his chores on five different occasions.”

“Three. Hurdles doesn’t count.”

Aloe had to stifle her giggles. “That’s not very nice.”

“Here’s some free advice, never try to talk Clean Cutt out of something, it won’t end well.”

“Who said you need to talk to him? Caps Worth is the lead.”

I had to think about that for a minute. Caps Worth wasn’t well known to me, our prefered activities never overlapping much. He always came across as sensible the few times we’d interacted, bought into the Watcher’s propaganda a little too much, but so had Aloe and Hurdles, and they were alright. Could I convince him that he didn’t want me to come along? It probably wouldn’t be too hard; a strategic demonstration of ineptitude would do the trick. There was one question that still bothered me, however.

“Why in Tartarus do they want me along in the first place?”

“Your stunning good looks?”

“My winning personality?”

“Your superior intellect?”

“My undeniable awesomeness?”

“Don’t forget radicalness and coolness.”

“Hehe, yeah, I guess I can see why they’d want me. Now I just need to think of some way to convince them that they’re wrong.”

Aloe ruffled my mane. “Come on, mister greatest thing ever, plotting world domination is easier on a full stomach.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Aloe smiled and winked conspiratorially, turning and heading out of the tent. I would have chuckled at that, but I remembered the last time she gave me that look and the month long prank war that followed.

Dinner was filling if less than impressive, creamed corn with a dandelion salad and some meager apples. We met Hurdles at the tent and I apologized for how I’d been treating him all day, not so much because I felt bad, but because Aloe made it very apparent that I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

After getting our food and taking our seats, we successfully avoided the unpleasant topic, instead focusing on the little things, Aloe groused about her work—both with magic and overcoming her aversion to blood—and Hurdles shared gossip with the other workhorses in between boasting about his most recent feats of strength, while I peppered the conversation with witty comments that always managed to make at least one of them snicker. It was… nice.

The sun was near the horizon by the time we left, painting the clouds orange fading into violet. My friends said their farewells, everypony was going to be busy for the next few days, and we each went our separate ways back to our respective tents. There was a bit of chill to the air, but the cold had never really bothered me much—yay for pegasi—so while everypony else scurried about with an extra little hitch in their giddy-up, I strolled lazily enough to realize that I’d just used the term hitch in their giddy-up and resolved that, if nothing else, a few months away from Tracker would not be such a bad thing.

I found my tent much as I’d left it, a pentagon-ish shape, blue on the outside and dark on the inside, the mage-lamp having not been turned on yet. Standing outside, I watched as a breeze brushed against the entrance, fluttering the loose canvas before it reached me and caressed my wings, stroking my feathers.

No thought crossed my mind, no intent or desire; I simply spread my wings and took off, pushing myself straight up into the air. Only once I was even with the fort’s walls did I realize how long it had been since the last time I’d flown for the sake of flying, a month at least. I decided that it was time for that to change.

My instincts were already in control, and I didn’t fight them. The air currents opened up before me. Wings tilting, I circled left into a weak thermal, riding it up until I reached the ‘no fly zone’ and dropped out. I hung there, my wings taking slow powerful beats to keep me aloft, and closed my eyes. Up so high, the background smell of Dise was gone. I’d be hard pressed to describe the difference, Dise was too full of all sorts of scents while the air up high simply lacked any.

Again, I let my wings dictate my actions, and soon I found myself circling the fort. Not for the first time I wondered what it would be like to reach for the clouds. I’d heard that pegasi could touch the white fluff, even stand on it and make homes out of it, The Enclave was supposed to be built of the stuff, but I’d never gotten close enough to see for myself. That was another positive for getting out of Dise for awhile, I’d be able to finally fly as high as I wanted, out there there was no upper limit aside from my own wings.

I’d still rather stay.

It was on my second circuit that I noticed her, alone on the south western turret, my turret. Her back was to me, facing out west, watching the setting sun through the buildings. I couldn’t think of any reason she’d be up there, save to talk to me, though that made me wonder why she wouldn’t just wait for me at my tent. Either way, I knew that I’d have to talk to her eventually. Hopefully she wasn’t still mad.

Correcting my course, I made a soft landing behind her, my shod hooves clicking against the stone anyway. Her ears swiveled to the sound and her tail twitched, but otherwise she made no indication that she’d heard me. I found that a little out of character for her, but said nothing as I moved to join her, mimicking her pose, sitting on my haunches and propping my forelegs on the parapet. I began to worry that her anger hadn’t subsided at all.

“Hello, Nurse,” I said, breaking the silence and glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Instead of the slightly shy, put upon look I was expecting, she turned away, her fetlock scrubbing at her face, I knew something was wrong.

“Hello, Lucky,” she replied, not taking her gaze off the distant horizon.

“So, anyway,” I started, jumping into the middle of the conversation we weren’t having, “Hurdles doesn’t agree with me. He seems to think that this is all an elaborate punishment slash last chance for me to get my act together. I think that’s; ‘A’ really over-dramatic, and ‘B’ assumes that my act isn’t already perfect… which it is, I was going to premiere it at next month’s talent show, but I guess that’s not going to happen now. Aloe thinks it’s for morale, after all, who better to entertain the masses and keep them from causing trouble? Personally, I think that I’m getting too awesome and Clean Cutt is sending me away before I can take over.”

She laughed, more of a single chuckle really, finally looking my way. Despite the shock of mirth, she looked older, like a flower with all its color drained out, faded and drawn.

Then she smiled. It was small, fragile, a tug at her lips, just enough to expose a hint of the dimples that had been hidden a moment before, and the weight of years vanished, shattered and swept away by something I wouldn’t understand for years.

And then she spoke, once again Nurse Gray; the mare who’d all but raised me, with almost twenty years of experience cutting through my smoke screens without the slightest hesitation. “It’s because you’re a Pegasus.”

I held out my wings, examining them, wiggling the my pinions and puffing out the down. “Like I said, ‘Awesomeness’.”

Gray rolled her eyes and turned back to Dise. It took her a few seconds to reply, and I waited, letting her process her thoughts into words. “It was a last minute addendum to the mercenary's contract.”

More words passed between us, but I didn’t really hear them. My mind was already coming to a stop, slowly winding down as the reality of the situation became inescapable, each gear slipping from the whole and free-spinning until all momentum was lost. I’d put off thinking about it completely. Even as I joked, it was always an intangible—almost fleeting—thing, something I could brush off and ignore, no more real than an open sky. What was there to worry about when I knew I could talk my way out of it?

I kicked the wall. I was leaving Dise, and there was nothing I could do.

I kicked the wall again and again, the stone parapet fracturing a little more with each hit until a chunk broke off, falling into the alley, a thick clang echoing up as it bounced off a hollow dumpster.

An aura of grey magic caught my hoof, preventing it from doing any more damage.

“I don’t wanna go,” I said, sounding far more petulant than I would have liked.

Forelegs wrapped around my head, pulling it down until it rested against Gray’s barrel. I didn’t resist, instead throwing my own limbs around her and burying my muzzle in her soft hairs. “I know, Love.”

“Can’t you do something?”

“I tried. I had a… talk with Clean Cutt when I found out. I’m sorry.”

A chuckle nearly formed at that. I’d witnessed a ‘talk’ between Gray and Cutt before, from halfway across the compound.

I eventually shifted until my head rested on her whither. The sun was on its last hoof, dipping below the horizon, gold and purple rays painting the thick clouds overhead. We watched in silence as it slowly faded and Dise’s lights took over, the warm sunlight replaced by cool neons.

I barely registered the light breeze that brushed by us until Gray shivered. Without any thought, my wing spread out, draping feathers over her back and curling around her like a blanket. She hummed appreciatively, letting her cheek rest atop my mane.

“I don’t wanna go.”

“It’ll be good for you.”

“Good for me?” I asked, pulling away so that I could get a good incredulous glare going. “How could traveling across the Wastes, worrying that at any moment a band of raiders are going to pop out of nowhere and start shooting, be good for me?”

“There’s a lot more to caravans than raider attacks.”

I almost missed the hurt hidden behind her stern gaze. It was far more effective at reining in my snark than her best glare. "I know," I said, taking in the stone at my hooves, unable to hold her gaze. "I just... I'm scared. Hurdles seems to think it's some grand adventure, like he's going to go out there and come back a hero. I don't want to be a hero. I like my life right where it is. I don't... It doesn't matter, does it?"

"No. No, it doesn't." At length, Gray turned from both myself and the vista, angling for the stairs leading back to the compound. “It’s getting late. We should probably get to bed.”

“Would you like a ride?” Gray froze, her hoof hovering just above the step, a crimson glow blossoming around her stunned visage. “A flight!” I quickly amended. “I meant, would you like a flight? You know, instead of taking the stairs. Not—”

“Are you joking?” Grays asked, the dreary mood from only seconds before evaporating like so much rain before a radiant light of hope. This in-turn banished my own attack of embarrassment, allowing me to fire back with a comfortably sarcastic quip.

“If I were joking I’d’ve said, ‘A horse walks into a bar—”

“Finish that joke, and I’ll make you glad to be getting out of Dise.”

“Some ponies have no sense of humor. Well?” I spread my wings for emphases. “Final boarding call for Lucky airlines, flight number seven.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you can carry me?”

“Stop fishing for compliments and climb up.”

“If you insist,” she said, doing an admirable job of hiding her obvious enthusiasm as she approached.

Getting Gray on my back took more doing than I’d expected. I ended up crouched with my belly just off the stone while she pulled herself up, ending with her cheek pressing against mine and her forelegs wrapping around my neck.

I stood, precariously balanced, looking down at the ground, easily ten lengths below us, upon the parapet, a light gust tingling the feathers of my half open wings. “Are you ready?”

“Uh… I’m not so sure about this,” Gray said, her voice shaking slightly.

“Too late!” I shouted, jumping out into the empty air and hollering with glee.

Gray screamed as we dropped, her grip tightening, nearly choking me as the ground rushed to meet us. I laughed, spreading my wings in full, leveling the dive just as we reached the tent tops. My wings beating, we quickly regained the lost altitude, climbing back into the sky with the wind rushing through our manes. Her screaming folded into giggling laughter, shaking us, sending little trembles across my body and causing me to join her as we soared higher.

I barely recognized the mare clinging to my back, full of fear and excitement both. She’d never been all that much older than me, yet always seemed so grown up, always standing front and center, ever taking charge and responsibility for everypony else. Now though, there was an almost foalish glow to her, like she’d set aside the weight for the world, leaving it behind for once to simply enjoy the moment, revelling in an experience that had always been out of reach.

Our eyes met, and her blush grew, quick to glance away even as she squeezed harder, pressing herself into me. I became very aware of her then, every breath and twitch stealing my focus and unable to think of anything beyond the soft warmth shielding my back from the wind. Instinct took over, guiding my wings and keeping us airborne, banking, rising, and diving without thought; a rollercoaster without rails that I was far too distracted to notice.

The flight was not a long one. I’d never put too much practice into flying regularly, going straight from ‘A’ to ‘B’, rarely staying airborne for even an hour; add the extra weight of another pony and my endurance never stood a chance. My landing was long in the making, hooves touching down at a brisk canter—rather than the more vertical landing I’d normally use—and burning the momentum off as I slowed to a trot, ending at the entrance to Gray’s tent.

I was wiped out by the time we stopped, my barrel pumping with each breath, wings too tired to fold, resting on the ground, hindlegs collapsing beneath me and depositing me on my haunches. I don’t know when she’d moved, but once I’d gathered my composure and looked up, Gray was already off my back and standing before me.

“Whoo, that took a lot more out of me than I’d thought it would,” is what I would have said, however, I barely got to that when I found my mouth otherwise occupied.

Gray’s lips locked over mine, stealing away my recently regained breath. It was a soft, uncertain kiss, almost unintrusive in its way, tinted by a sharp tang of fruit, grape perhaps, though I wasn’t sure, but left me stunned regardless. My mind, flooded by the unexpected sensations and still reeling from the flight and the unresolved thoughts, failed to react, drawing a complete blank. Even still, when the pressure relented, and Gray stepped back, I moved with her, as though to prolong the contact.

The cool air against my now moist lips shocked me, causing my eyes, that had closed at some point, to pop back open.

“Gray?” I asked, lost and more than a little confused.

“Yes, Lucky?” she replied, her voice steady and sure, not matching her glowing, quivering ears and twitching tail.

I stuttered and stammered, struggling to form something that might be recognizable as a questions, though I would have been satisfied with more than a single coherent word. Gray shifted close enough to place a hoof on my lips, shutting me up. She took a steadying breath of her own as I waited, her tail calming and a forced serenity settling on her features.

My expectations, such as they were, were shattered when her hoof dropped only to be replaced once again by her lips. Her tongue touched my lips, as if requesting admittance, and I obliged, opening the way and allowing her inside. The tips of our tongues met, tapping once before sliding forward, grapes mixing with the unique flavor of her tongue across the whole of my own. She quickly took charge, dictating the moves of our hidden tango, leading my exploration of her mouth even as she demanded I allow her unfettered access to mine. Not that I took much notice, distracted as I was by the whole experience.

Far from my first kiss, there was something almost wrong about it, just bordering on taboo, making it all the more exciting, rolling over my confusion and doubt, leaving me adrift in the act and unconcerned with anything beyond.

Then it was over, Gray pulling away, putting a hoof on my collar to hold me back, her eyes staring into mine for a brief moment before she turned away without a word and trotted toward her tent, leaving me open mouthed and unmoving. My eyes followed her, every swaying step and swing of her tail until she disappeared between the white canvas, mage-lamp lighting, casting a soft white glow through the cracks.

I followed her without a thought.

The moment I stepped inside, a grey field surrounded me, lifting me from the ground and carrying me over to the cot. I didn’t fight it, trusting her implicitly.

She laid me out on the cot, belly down, and encouraged me to spread my wings in full. I was about to say something when she followed, climbing onto the bed and standing over me.

“Just relax,” she said, placing her forehooves at the base of my wings. “You’ve done enough for tonight.”

My wing twitched as she pressed into the thick flight muscles, feathers ruffling and settling in response to each movement of her hooves. Sharp hisses and drawn out groans were the entirety of my contribution from that moment on. After an eternity that couldn’t have lasted for more than five minutes, she ended the massage only to dip her muzzle into my left wing, preening me with a mixture of her tongue, teeth and magic, carefully straightening each feather, sliding it under or over it’s neighbor and plucking out those too damaged to be of use.

I don’t know how long it took, minutes, hours, days, they were all plausible to my overstimulated mind. When it did finally end, Gray pulling away for the last time, sitting back on her haunches, I forced myself to roll over.

Above me, her mane, still in disarray from the flight, framed her face in the light of the overhead mage-lamp. I returned the small smile that lit up her face, and likely the blush too. Our next kiss started off just as soft as the other two but quickly grew in intensity, my wings flaring in response, forcing me up off the cot as Gray shifted into position, gasping slightly as she slowly, oh so slowly lowered herself back down.

Two cyan eyes, turned green with envy, hidden in shadows, watched Lucky descend from his evening flight, slowing to a stop and letting his passenger slip from his back. They watched with growing concern as he recuperated from his exhaustion. They watched with shock when two lips met, shock becoming disgust when the action was repeated.

Two tear filled eyes closed, unable to watch any longer as four hooves scrambled in haste to flee from the soft gasps and moans that struck her ears like the beat of a drum, reverberating between two ears pressed back in a vain attempt to banish the sounds.

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Footnote:
Chapter 3 Progress: 33%