Lemon Drop was wiping the shelves when he heard the jingling of the bell, heavy hooves with smaller ones walking in, and his wife's sweet voice greeting the customer. He smiled as his angel made conversation with the father of the foals that were fixing to satisfy their sweet tooth.
"Morning, Mr. Haralson," Sugar Glider said. "How's your wife?"
"Howdy," Haralson replied. "She's as fit as a fiddle and ready to wrassle a minotaur."
"Oh, good, I was getting worried. I thought that dreaded illness would claim her. How about your older son?"
"Cortland? Well… he's healthy, but still tryin' to woo that Pie mare."
No one needed to ask which Pie mare. Lemon shook his head and continued to wipe, content to let Sugar continue the conversation, and hopefully avoid a discussion on the whole rumor of Pinkamena being Cortland's beau. He and Sugar knew that the pink member of the Pie family would never agree to it.
"I see… wow, Stayman and Idared are getting big!"
"Eeyup, and they're gettin' stronger. Them kids bucked a few apples outta th' big one."
"Ooh. And how do those two feel about that accomplishment?"
A little filly chirped, "Ah feel like a bear catching his first fish!"
She was followed by her brother saying, "Ah feel as strong as Pa!"
Stealing a glance at the foals, both light green with strawberry blonde manes, Lemon couldn't suppress his delighted chuckle. His eyes went back to Sugar—more specifically, the bulge their foal was occupying. He couldn't wait to feel the pride for his foal that Haralson held for his own.
"Are ya choosing the caramel again?" Haralson asked the two.
They nodded, and Sugar was happy to give them the two tidbits, which Haralson paid for and the foals happily gobbled up. Then they climbed onto their father's back, and the colt was pulling at the blonde mane in front of him. Though Haralson grimaced at each tug, he chuckled. Glancing out the window, he saw Igneous Rock and two of his daughters pass by the window.
"Ah haven't really socialized with the Pies in a while…"
"Excuse me?" Sugar asked.
"The Pies. Ah haven't really talked with Igneous since his family helped out with the Parasprite invasion, and that was back when Cortland was a little colt. The most we've talked since that day was when he'd buy a couple of apples every now and then."
"What are you saying?" Lemon asked, taking his place next to his wife.
"Ah dunno, ah guess ah could invite the Pies ta dinner or somethin'."
Lemon scratched his head, ruffling his light brown mane in the process. "You could… although there's that rumor floating 'round town."
"What rumor?" the colt asked, tugging on his sister's pigtail. Haralson swatted the colt's hoof and glared at him. Then he turned back to Lemon to hear the answer.
"The rumor of Pinkamena being Cortland's beau."
The foals winced as their father yelled, "…now who dun started that rumor?!"
"I dunno."
"Ugh, them morons will believe anything," Haralson grumbled. "Ah've seen her, and she don't care for mah son that much. Ah'll talk with Igneous 'bout this and he and ah will find the darn fool and set 'em straight!"
The two foals looked at each other as their father stormed out of the shop with them in tow. Lemon and Sugar simply stared at the door for a few moments, pursing their lips.
Finally, Lemon stated, "He's right that Pinkamena is not thrilled to be pursued by Cortland."
Sugar sighed. "Cortland really should understand he's just not her type."
Lemon quirked an eyebrow. "Does she even have a type?"
Sugar shrugged in response.
Cheese rolled out of the way of one of Hank's giant paws, and he heard it slam in the dirt beside him. His heart pounded as the other paw fell toward him, and he leaped forward before it crushed him. A fist swung his way, and he ducked before it could hit him. Another fist came, and this time he jumped back, finding himself looking up at the mangled face of the dog he was facing.
The biggest one, he thought. I just had to end up fighting the biggest one. Ugh, this is worse than the Santa Hooves incident!
Hank smirked, and started to snort in a prolonged manner. A disgusting slosh was heard in the mutt's mouth before he spit at Cheese.
An alarmed Cheese jumped out of the way, but to his misfortune, the spit got his tail. When he landed from his jump, he looked back at the hair of his tail tangled up in dog spit. Seeing it drip in long stretches, he pulled a face and muttered, "Ewww…"
And then he had to run again as Hank pounded his chest like a gorilla and attempted to hit him again, whether by fist or open paw. The slamming of each paw behind him held a slow rhythm, and spooked him even more with each impact.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Another one had him springing forward, and as he landed, he nearly tripped on a rock. He caught himself and tried to stop, only to slide on all four hooves and hope he wouldn't trip on another rock.
He skidded to a stop, breathing heavily as he tried to process something other than fear in his mind. A paw aiming for him swiped, and he stumbled back as the claws barely missed his muzzle by inches. He landed on his rump, which unfortunately took a seat on a rock. The sharp pain made him yelp and jump back onto his hooves, and he was smacked away by the large paw.
He flew several feet before slamming into the ground and rolling in the dust. The roll was a bumpy ride in the rock field that was sure to give him cuts and bruises. Hank's saliva on Cheese's coat, poncho, and tail made the dirt stick to him, and his open mouth gave way to some soil on his tongue.
Once he stopped rolling, Cheese felt like he was still spinning. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, and he could feel tiny painful points that speckled his body, spreading into sore blotches. The shouts of the mares were garbled in his ears, and everything in his vision was a blur.
He shakily got to his hooves, and started spitting out the dirt that accumulated in his mouth. His eyes were squeezed shut as he trembled, and the taste of the dirt was mixed with something foul. He didn't even want to think of why there was such a horrid taste on his tongue.
Yep, it was definitely worse than the Santa Hooves incident.
He heard Hank roar, "Ribbit!" and the next thing he knew there was an earth-shaking thud in front of him. Cheese's eyes snapped open, only to find his vision still blurry. He wondered if he had not completely recovered from his fall, and worried about the possible trauma he had. As he backed up instinctively, it hit him.
His glasses. Where were his glasses?
A "ribbit" from Hank signaled another hop, and Cheese felt the dog land behind him. He kept himself from falling over from the mini earthquake, though just barely. He had swung around completely in the process, and he was sure the blurry form he could barely make out in was Hank. His legs were still shaking, he was covered in sweat, saliva, and dirt, and he couldn't help but worry about his glasses possibly having been broken.
Elsewhere, the girls still had the advantage over the other three dogs. No matter who fought who, Buddy still ended up with a sore bottom, Rider ended up with a sore back, and Bailey ended up with a sore scalp. It wasn't long before they gave up their battles, and decided that Hank could take care of the mares once he was finished with Cheese. So, they retreated to the hole they came from.
Cloudy, Marble, and Limestone ran to the hole that the dogs dove into, and glared down it. Without hesitating, Cloudy said to her daughters, "They must have our rocks in their hideout. Follow those mongrels and get them back. I'll stay and help Cheese!"
"Yes, Ma!" The two younger mares then dove into the hole.
After watching them jump in, Cloudy spun around and started to gallop toward Hank. She didn't slow down as she scooped up a hoofful of dirt, and only stopped to chuck it at the back of the dog's head. The impact made Hank stagger forward, but he caught himself before he fell onto Cheese. Unfortunately for the latter, the smell of dog breath reached his nostrils, and more drool dripped onto him.
Cheese gagged. "Ugh… please get some heavy-duty mouthwash!"
Hank didn't listen, and turned his attention to Cloudy, who was pawing at the ground as she held the fiercest glare. Giving her an evil eye in response, Hank barked, "RIBBIT!"
Cloudy didn't waver. "Dogs don't ribbit."
With a roar, Hank threw a punch, only for Cloudy to block it with a raised hoof, and then smack him across the cheek with the other. As Hank yelped and tried to soothe his throbbing cheek, she looked at Cheese and yelled, "What are you just standing there for?!"
Cheese gritted his teeth and pointed at his face. "Can you not see my glasses are missing? I can barely make out Hank there!"
Cloudy groaned. "I'll keep an eye out for them! Just keep track of the moving gray blob and think of some way to fight him!"
"Um… right…" Cheese chuckled nervously.
A growl from Hank sent chills up Cheese's spine, and he couldn't resist backing up to avoid any damage that could come upon him. His eyes were on the large gray blob that towered over the grayish-white blob that was Cloudy. It hurt his eyes to see the blobs move in such a blur, engaging in a fight. His head was beginning to pound and he found himself wishing for the tedium that had been present the days before.
Even worse, his general feeling of uselessness was surfacing again, and he could only sit down and curse his poor eyesight.
"Well, it looks like we've gathered everything we need," Igneous grumbled. He stepped out of the shop and into the dusty street, followed by Maud and Pinkamena. Adjusting his hat, he continued, "Now, girls, let's get back to the rock farm and—"
"Igneous!"
He stopped in his tracks and turned his head to see the large stallion galloping toward him. Two laughing foals rode on his back, and the colt appeared to be wearing his father's brown Stetson. The large stallion skidded to a stop, stopping short of hitting Igneous, who didn't even flinch.
Igneous raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Haralson?"
Haralson shook the dust off his coat, and the squeals of his foals were rattled, much to their delight. Over their giggles, Haralson continued, "Ah've been lookin' for you."
"Me? What for?"
"Do you know 'bout the crazy rumor floatin' 'round town?"
Igneous opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by two loud mares passing by, cooing, "Ooh, look, I bet they're discussing the courtship right now."
As they walked away, Pinkamena shouted, "There is no courtship! Hasn't anyone taught you not to gossip?!"
Maud patted her sister. "Calm down, Pinkamena."
Igneous remained stone-faced as he answered, "If you're talking about the courtship rumor, I've heard it."
Haralson nodded. "Somepony got the fool idea that mah son and yer daughter—the pink one—are beaus."
"That fool idea originated with your son," Pinkamena snarled.
The colt on Haralson's back leaned over and asked, "Me? Ah didn't start no rumor."
"She was talking about Cortland, Stayman," Haralson said in an exasperated sigh. Facing Pinkamena, he asked, "But are ya sure it was him? Ah don't think he'd resort ta lyin' to the whole town just ta win yer heart. It's a plum stupid thing ta do."
"No kidding," Pinkamena muttered. "But considering how many times I've had to repeat that I'm not interested, I wouldn't put it past him."
"Ugh… Ah'll talk to him about it, and hopefully we can clear this rumor up. It's a shame, really, that them gossipers are flapping their jaws about; Ah've been thinkin' about inviting you folks ta dinner."
Igneous snorted. "Why?"
"Just ta catch up, is all."
Igneous sighed and shook his head. "No… no, we're far too busy, and we've got a lot of extra work ahead. Somepony vandalized our property and stole all our rocks. We've had to spend quite a few bits to replace our tools, and I'm unable to pay the hired help."
"Pardon? Hired help?"
"I hired a stallion who crawled all the way to the rock farm just to ask for a job. Skinny thing, I'm hoping to build some muscle into him."
"Is he handsome?" the filly asked, her green eyes gleaming.
Haralson rolled his eyes. "Idared, Ah don't think that's important."
"Why not, Pa? Iggy-knees has a bunch of daughters. Surely one of 'em is in love with him."
By way of facial features, Pinkamena did not deny that Cheese was at least pleasant to look at. He was lean without looking undernourished or menacing, and yet he held a childlike glow. His smile was warm, and his eyes reminded her of emeralds. And then there was his voice, which she always felt a strange warmth upon hearing.
Igneous snorted. "He and I had an agreement that he wouldn't attempt any sort of romance with any of my daughters. I'm sorry, Idared, but this isn't a fairy tale."
Idared fiddled with her pigtail, staring off into space dreamily. "It could happen. Ma says it's a hard thing ta fight."
Igneous stared at the filly for a moment before saying to Haralson, "Your daughter has an active imagination."
"She sure does. Anyway, Ah'd like to meet this fella sometime. Maybe Ah'll drop by for a visit in a day or two." Haralson made a motion to tip his hat, but ended up touching his forehead before he remembered that Stayman had it. With a sheepish grin, he said, "See ya later," before turning and heading back home. The two foals on his back happily waved at them as they parted.
Igneous looked at his daughters, who merely stared back, waiting with the tools in their saddlebags. He cleared his throat and said, "It's time we go home."
Cloudy wasn't as nimble as she had been during her younger years, but she was at least keeping Hank busy. Cheese couldn't really do anything to help while his glasses were gone, and Marble and Limestone hadn't returned from their trip to retrieve the stolen rocks. She made quick periodic sweeps of the ground to locate Cheese's glasses, all the while dodging Hank's attacks and throwing clumps of dirt at him.
She could feel a pinching in her knees and the beginnings of a side stitch as she continued to avoid Hank's leaps, and her sharp breaths burned her throat. Her legs were steadily growing weaker, and a moment where Hank managed to catch her tail testified to her slowing down. She bucked Hank's paw and leapt forward when he released his grip.
She stole glances at the sulking Cheese, who was clearly straining to see the battle. She grumbled under her breath about how the stallion needed contacts, or perhaps a way to keep his glasses on, and scanned the ground as she galloped.
"RIBBIT!" Hank roared as he hopped over Cloudy and landed in front of her. She looked up a little too late, and she bounced off his belly with a comical boing. She landed on her side on some dusty rocks, and she felt one of her forelegs scraping a sharp one. Clenching her teeth as she got back up, she put a hoof over her wound and could feel herself starting to shake, even as she tried to stay steady. She blew on some stray hairs that had fallen out of her bun, and looked at Cheese, who had apparently noticed something wrong and stood up.
"Cloudy? Are you okay?" he called.
She could already feel the scrape beginning to bleed. "I'll be all right!"
That's when she spotted them. Miraculously intact, Cheese's glasses were resting on a rock pile not too far from where Cloudy was.
She felt the hot breaths of the large dog behind her, and bucked him in the jaw before hobbling to the rock pile. Once she reached it, she picked up the glasses with her mouth, and set her sights on the young stallion. Her scrape stung and her joints ached as she limped forward, carefully stepping over the rocks to keep herself from tripping. Hearing Hank growl, she only limped faster, not caring for the blood seeping out of the wound.
"Cheese Sandwich, you get over here this instant!" she yelled through gritted teeth, still holding the glasses.
"Huh?!" Cheese replied. "Why?"
"No time for questions, just come!"
Cheese gulped. "Um… okay…"
He carefully began to tread through the rock field, feeling for flat earth with each step. His hooves didn't exactly weave around the rocks, instead taking a step on one, recoiling, and placed a little further until it hit dirt. He had a feeling that Cloudy was getting impatient, but hurrying would just make him trip. He continued stepping forward to the pale form, hoping the gray form behind her wouldn't interrupt before they met up.
Of course, just when they were almost to each other, Hank came between them, barking, "Ribbit!" once again.
The thud of the dog made Cheese jump, and he stumbled onto some rocks. His heart pounded at being in close proximity to Hank again, and he was expecting more gallons of spit on him. Then he realized that he didn't know just which side was facing him; for all he knew, he could have something much more unpleasant dumped on him.
However, he found himself annoyed with Hank saying "ribbit" all the time. Why did he say that? Was it just to annoy ponies and his fellow dogs, or was he really that stupid?
He got up on his feet and took a deep breath. "Excuse me, but you are not a frog!"
If the canine hadn't been looking at him before, he was surely looking at him now. Hank growled at the stallion who dared to speak up, and Cheese could hear the unmistakable sound of dripping.
"Luuunnnccchh…"
Cheese let out a half-nervous chuckle. "Um, me? Lunch? No, no, no, I wouldn't be that good. Not enough meat on my bones, buddy."
"Me not Buddy!"
"Oh… right, that's your friend. My mistake. Still, I don't think I'd be that good of a meal." Cheese had to keep himself from gagging at Hank's breath.
Hank began to sniff Cheese, who could feel an awful pit in his stomach and his legs too heavy for him to move. A million thoughts went through his head at once, and he couldn't process most of them. Those he could process were the certainty that Hank was going to bite his head off, things that he regretted, and an image of Pinkamena.
However, before Hank could even do anything, Cloudy had hobbled around him and delivered a swift kick to his side with her hind leg. She immediately got moving when Hank howled, and limped her way to the unmoving Cheese. She freed her front hoof just long enough to tap Cheese, and quickly put it back over her wound, ignoring the stinging. When he made a movement to look at her, she rose up and put the glasses on his muzzle.
Cheese blinked as everything became clear, and he could make out every detail of Cloudy's face. He scanned up and down her body, and caught sight of some blood under a hoof that she was holding over her foreleg.
"Cloudy! Your leg!"
"I know!"
Cheese was about to rip off a strip of his poncho to bandage the wound, but Cloudy stopped him, noting its drool and dirt covered state. Before she could offer an alternative, however, Hank was up again, growling at them.
Cheese groaned. "Can't he just give us a moment?"
Cloudy gritted her teeth. "Find some way to get rid of him and fast."
"Uh, okay, right… right." He scanned the field around them, his heart racing. He could see the rocks on the landscape, and thought about throwing them at the mutt. He looked at the house, and wondered if there were any weapons inside. And then he looked at the bare trees that sprouted from a few places in the otherwise barren field. Looking at the branches, an idea came to him.
With a sly smile, he bolted toward the nearest tree, whistling as he did so. This earned confused looks from both Cloudy and Hank, who continued to watch as he hopped onto a large branch and chomp on one of the smaller ones. He pulled at it until it cracked, and he fell out of the tree with a decent sized stick in his mouth. After rubbing his rump, he stood up, and spat the stick onto his hoof.
He waved it, calling, "You want the stick?"
Hank tilted his head, while Cloudy narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow.
"Want the stick? You want it? Do you?"
Cloudy was about to ask what he was doing when she noticed that Hank's tail was wagging. Whatever he was doing, it had the dog's attention.
"Come here, boy! I know you want the stick!" Cheese hollered, starting to gallop away. With a happy bark, Hank took pursuit of the pony with the stick.
Cloudy could only stare in bemusement as Cheese led Hank away from the rock farm, and she wondered if Cheese had thought his little plan through. She shook her head. At least Diamond Dogs were stupid.
She glanced at the hole, and to her relief, Marble and Limestone had returned. They were hauling bags of rocks out of it, and they had only had small scratches on their bodies. She couldn't help but feel a swell of pride that the two had handled themselves quite well.
"CLOUDY!"
She snapped her attention in front of her, where Igneous, Maud, and Pinkamena were galloping toward her, with concern highly evident on Igneous' face. He skidded to a stop and took her foreleg. He looked at it, and asked, "What happened?"
"Diamond Dogs," Cloudy answered simply.
Igneous' brow furrowed. "Of course. Those troublemakers always come when gems are plentiful. Who'd they kidnap this time?"
"Nopony," Marble answered, dragging a bag to the group.
Limestone followed, glancing around. "Unless that Hank guy took Cheese."
There was a sharp intake of breath from Pinkamena, which she released when she realized that the others had heard her and were now looking at her. With a cough, she muttered, "Figures that they kidnapped a stallion with sticks for legs. I could tell he was easy pickings the moment I saw him."
"Nah, they didn't kidnap him," Cloudy said. "He just distracted Hank and led him away from the farm."
"Distracted him? With what?" Marble asked.
Cloudy looked directly at her, and said in the driest tone imaginable, "A stick."
The others stared at her with the most incredulous looks, with Maud's being far more subtle than the others'. A few moments of silence passed before Igneous coughed and spoke.
"Well… let's just patch up that foreleg of yours, Cloudy. Marble, Limestone—those are our rocks, right? Just take them to the barn, and we'll lock them and the new tools up."
As Igneous and Maud led Cloudy back to the house, the matriarch looked at Pinkamena. "Go find Cheese and make sure he's not dead."
Pinkamena sighed. "Right."