//------------------------------//
// Ch.2 Scout and Ponies 
// Story: The Epic of a Diamond Dog 
// by Ravencrofte 
//------------------------------//



A scout had returned to us. He was sprawled out on the ground, panting heavily.  He fended off offers of food but guzzled water. Finally, when he had breath enough to speak, he told us everything.  
His name was Rough Hide, and he had been patrolling our eastern territory for two days with his brother, Hard Stone. Late in the afternoon, they had spotted a troop of ponies. The pair of scouts had tracked the ponies until they made camp that evening.  Rough Hide had run all the way to alert the clan while Hard Stone stayed behind. 
“How many are there?” asked my father.
“About thirty or so,” replied Rough Hide.
“How far away?” My father looked to the moon. Gauging time?
“Twenty miles to the east, give or take. I’ll lead the way.” Rough Hide climbed uncertainly to his feet.
“Rest a while longer,” my father told him before addressing the clan.
“Tonight, Emperor Uni has surely blessed our clan. He has given us the chance to strike at our most hated foe. Go, grab your weapons, but leave behind your armor; speed and silence are essential if we are to catch them before daybreak. Bring no provisions. We leave as soon as I am ready to go.”
I cut a path through the dispersing crowd to my father’s side.
“Do you really think we’ll catch them?” I asked.
“Emperor willing, we will.” He laid a paw on my shoulder. “Tonight, my son, you will prove yourself a warrior by destroying our enemies.”
I trotted away, feeling uneasy. I tried to brush it away, but its biting persistence was worse than fleas. It still occupied my thoughts when I entered my hut.
I grabbed my belt and buckled it on around my waist. My sword slid silently into its sheath. I took a long look around my hut, running through a mental checklist of anything I might want to take. 
I spotted my sling. I was a decent shot and could consistently hit a dog-size target. After a quick debate, I tucked it into my belt. I checked my hut once more before rejoining the others.
My father led the procession out the gate, setting off at an easy lope that a diamond dog could keep up all day. The scout was beside him. I could hear only brief conversations as the scout corrected our path. The rest of us maintained strict silence.
The moon and stars aided us in our nightly trek across the land. The stars held our legends and folklore. My ancestors were all up there, watching over me. One day I would join them in the neverending race across the night sky. 
The moon was Emperor Uni’s own creation, his gift to all Diamond Dogs to battle the blackness of night. For many years it had held the face of a pony, to remind us of our most hated enemy, the Emperor had decreed.  Now it was gone, and the moon gazed blankly over the land.
I skirted a clump of dogs-head.
My eyes had adapted to the darkness, casting my world into gray and various shades of black. With the moonlight, I could identify the Diamond Dogs around me. Beyond fifty or sixty feet, the colors and shapes melted into a web of shadows. At least the scout seemed to know where he was going.
I was still breathing normally, but I could feel droplets of sweat starting to form. Would we rest before striking at the ponies or attack them right away?
What did ponies look like? Various books gave the impression of dark, bat-like creatures.  They probably had leathery wings, fangs, red eyes, and horns. I shuddered at how similar my image of ponies were to that of demons.
I looked overhead and couldn’t believe how far the moon had shifted. Daylight was quickly nearing.
I collided with the Diamond Dog ahead of me. He snapped his jaws at me, but remained silent.  We were slowing down: moving at a slow trot, then a walk, and finally stopped. I peered over the heads of those in front of me. 
We must have stopped on a hill; before me the stars surged out of the ground from far below and arched across the sky, occupying most of our horizon. Just off in the distance, I could see faint lights glowing from what appeared to be a stand of trees.
“Work your legs. Don’t let your limbs get stiff.” The order was passed along from mouth to mouth in hushed whispers. My father vanished into the darkness along with the scout.
I stomped in place.  
That uneasy feeling had returned, but this time amplified.
We had clearly traveled beyond our own borders. If there were truly only about thirty or so ponies, then how could they possibly attack us? Driving away other Diamond Dogs so that the clan would have something to eat the next day was one thing, but a raid against those who didn’t pose a threat?
A wind whipped in from the south. I shivered.
Was I going soft? These were ponies: a vile sub-dog species that threatened the Empire. They were demon bat creatures, and they needed to be eliminated!
My father returned, this time with another Diamond Dog I assumed to be Hard Stone.
We started to move again.
The light appeared to be coming from three separate fires. They illuminated the perimeter of the camp and the wagons within. 
We stopped at the edge of the trees.
I had to look away from the fires; the light was making my eyes water.
There was a rush of wings, and a pony landed in front of us.
I held my breath.
The first pony I had ever seen looked sleek and strong. Hard lines around his face, head, and jaw gave a strong indication of being male. His coat was colored a bright teal, and he flew on feathered wings.
There were no horns, or fangs, or red eyes!
He threw a bundle of sticks on the fire before flying to the next. The pony repeated the process at this fire, then the next. He took off once more and landed on top of a wagon.  From his vantage point, he slowly scanned the sleeping camp. 
I thought for sure he would see us.
He wasn’t that far away. I could probably hit him with a stone. I drew out my sling and felt along the ground for a sizable rock. I found one and slipped it into the pocket of the sling.
My father shattered the night with a vicious, guttural cry. The call was echoed by every dog, and we surged into the camp in an unbreakable wave.
I sidestepped the mass of dogs and took aim. The pony was perfectly silhouetted against the night sky. Off to my left, another pony took flight. I ignored it. I whirled the stone overhead, then released it with a snap of the leather cord. The rock passed within inches of the pony, missing him completely, but then struck a small, white form as it was shooting skywards. 
I watched as that white form faulted, sputtered, and then crashed out of sight. 
I started in its direction, but then a great blast of fire rocketed overhead.  I drew my sword and went to investigate.
It wasn’t our first time facing magic. The neighboring Bone Clan had a mystic who would attack us with various spells in our occasional border skirmishes. They were frightening, but if you could tackle the magic user, then you would disrupt their spell. Without magic, the caster was just an undersized dog.
A white pony with a single glowing horn was fending off a dozen Diamond Dogs. His horn glowed bright, and another gale of fire scorched our ranks, scattering dogs in all directions. A pair of Diamond Dogs leapt at him from either side, and together they crashed to the ground. 
A brawl ensued. 
The teal pony from earlier leapt into the fray. He freed the brown pony, and together they fled into the night. The other Diamond Dogs pursued them.
I went after my own prize.
It was crying. I followed the sobs to a little white pony curled up on the ground.  My stone had hit its left wing, and now it was bent at an odd angle. The little pony strongly reminded me of male puppies when they were first separated from their mothers.
It looked up at me. “Please Mr. Dog, don’t eat me,” it sobbed.
A shrieking hail cut the night.
“Momma! Momma!” cried the little pony. When no reply came, the pony resumed sobbing.
There was a crashing in the undergrowth, and Spoke appeared.
“There you are, Ember.” Spoke was grinning wildly, prancing from foot to foot. “You missed out on a great chase. Did you see that pony I tackled? They all got away, though.”
He spotted the little pony.
“Oh, oh, oh, pony,” he exclaimed excitedly. He went up and sniffed it. “Kind of small, isn’t he?”
I corrected him. “I think it’s a she.”
Spoke took to prancing around the pony, singing, “Ember caught a sla-ave. Ember caught a sla-ave”.
The bushes to my left rustled, and my father appeared.  He looked from me, to Spoke, and then to the pony.
“Good job, son, now finish her off.”
I couldn’t bring myself to hurt the pony.  She was so young, so little; her sobs made me cringe. She would be flying off with her own kind if my stone hadn’t hit her.
I straightened up, thrusting out my chest and stretching out to my full height. I was nearly as tall as my father.  I looked him in the eye. My lips curled in a snarl.
“She is my slave; my property. I decide what I do with her.”
Spoke stopped his rambunctious show. He glanced worriedly between my father and me.
Another Diamond Dog appeared.
“Chieftain,” he started to say, but stopped when he saw us staring at each other.
My father looked away. I had won.
While my father talked with the newcomer, I drew Spoke to my side.
“Go to the wagons and fetch me some strong rope. I need a collar and leash for this pony.”
Spoke ran off.
I nudged the pony with my foot. “Get up, little pony,” I told her.  She continued to sob.
“Get up,” I hissed, this time prodding her with the butt of my sword.
“Leave me alone, Mr. Dog,” she cried, curling up into a tighter ball.
Please get up, oh please get up, I wanted to beg. A master who couldn’t control his own slave was no master at all. If she didn’t follow my orders, then another dog would surely challenge me for possession. Father might even insist on a whipping to set her straight. I didn’t want to think of what that whip would do to her small body.
I silently asked for her forgiveness for what I was about to do.
I lightly placed one paw on her broken wing. She gasped in pain. I lowered my head and hissed in her ear, “Get up or I will make it hurt worse.”
Reluctantly she rolled to her feet. Spoke returned with the rope. I tied it around her neck.
What is your name?” I asked.
“Kitty Hawk,” she said, wiping away her tears.
“Kitty Hawk,” I proclaimed, “from this day forth, you belong to me.”