An, Twá, féower, þréo.

You repeat it aloud with a last sigh of frustration, “An, tway, fe-o-er, uh..." You flip a few pages looking for the pronunciation chart, “Thuh-ray-o..." The strange accent is hard to get right. It goes on for about a minute as the words blend together with the sound of a tapping hoof.

“Suga'cube, ah said look at the things that don't make sense, not 'keep repeatin' the things that don't make sense.'" Applejack shakes her head in mock-despair.

You skip through the primer, letting the pages flip through your fingers with a less than satisfying patter, “Yeah, well, that's the only thing that's really dif-" you stop and look. “The 'combination of numerals: ordinal and cardinal.'”

“Well, ah' don't think you mean the bird." Applejack says as she looks over again.

“I don't think they mean the bird either. 'An, Twá, þréo, féower.' It means one, two, three, four... counting, it's counting something. Of course it's counting!"

The sudden outburst draws a groggy gasp from Fluttershy who was resting with her cheek against the table. You quiet yourself as she nuzzles the tabletop and settles back to sleep.

Licking your lips, you lean closer and whisper, “‘Fif’, ‘fif’ was in that message, too. Fifirun... oh, maybe that's not... hmm," you look a little more closely at your scrawled message as Applejack cranes her neck towards you to see the paper as well:

Befæsten fífirúnwitan ic ánþing gebannum
fífincundnessa ond bréosthord
gebrogdene fífigéosceaftas bótum ætstalas
hwonne áne ácordaþ, sy ácumendlicnessa

Applejack just lofts a brow, “So what's a 'Fiff-er-oon-white-an' or 'fiff-i-cund-ness-ah'?" Each word is spoken slowly and with care so her accent wouldn’t interfere.

“I’ve got no idea." Despite that blockage, you still can't erase the smile from your face, “But now we know there's five of them. Oh, and maybe 'ánþing' is 'one' of something and 'áne' too. The whole phrase just gets strung into a compound word if it's one 'thing'. Kinda' makes sense actually.”

It sounds plausible so you investigate further, “Maybe." Looking on the rest of the page you point to the aged yellowing paper, “No. If it was it should be 'Fifta' with a bar thingie over the 'i'.”

“Over the 'i'?" Applejack repeats as you realize she doesn't understand English in much the same way you hadn't understood Equestrian. In fact, there is no direct translation given they just had sounds in their language.

“Yeah, it’s… just trust me on this one." She nods and you keep reading while flipping over the six photos that capture the scrawled phrases.

“So you understand it now?" The mare ventures quietly so as to not wake the sleeping Pegasus beside you.

“Well, I still don't quite understand the sentence: 'like neuter nouns, they are sometimes adjectives, but left undeclined and govern the genative.'" You had been reading about some of it previously, but the actual sentence still felt as thick and academically impenetrable as a PhD thesis paper on particle physics.

“Apparently not. I'd have to read more to be sure. Ugh, Twilight would love this, I just know it. It's like an equation and she knows the math." The ensuing silence draws only the faint crackle from the fireplace and the squeaking sound of a glass that the bartender dutifully dries.

“Uh... pretty much. 'Befæsten fífirúnwitan ic ánþing gebannum,' it means ‘with five-”something” I one-”something”.... something... I don't know. I'm just guessing at this point, but it's a start. It has to do with five.”

“So why is 'three' mentioned three times?” She taps her hoof on the three pictures containing the phrase.

Applejack pauses for a moment then looks over asking, “Well, he’s been after Unicorns, right? Maybe he’s after five particular ponies?”

‘The heads of five leaders bow to their fallen queen.’

You beam and she just pats your shoulder with a hoof, grinning all the while. You stare into her emerald eyes, they reflect the warmth of accomplishment as if happy to see you succeed. It’s surprisingly supportive-

“Ahem, missing something, are we?" Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Spike stand at the open door, framed by the faded glow of the streetlamps outside. Blinking and looking up, you twitch your nose and lips as if to say 'huh' in defense. Rarity, the lead of the little expedition, slowly lets a smirk spread to the corners of her muzzle. “My-my, that's a lovely shade of rose ‘à votre visage’.”

You swiftly look at Applejack who just smiles. There was no answer in those honest emerald eyes, just a reflected kindness. Again, looking too long would surely draw even more snide remarks from Rainbow or flippant suggestions from Rarity, so you turn to face at Rainbow. She smirks and starts chortling while that insipid Unicorn canters inside, followed by Spike who staggers in under the weight of an overladen mountaineering pack.

Rainbow Dash's cackle doesn't abate, “Y-heh, you look like a frog that swallowed its tongue." Still laughing, she kicks the door closed. The resonating thump shakes the frame, sending Fluttershy bolt upright with a gasp while Pinkie rolls onto her back and kicks a leg out with a snort.

“I wasn't red, was I?" You ask while turning from the bleary-eyed Fluttershy back to Applejack.

“Uhh, no?" It carries unasked question 'why?' Frantically glaring over Applejack's shoulder at the Unicorn, you can't help but grind your teeth and purse your lip.

Thanks, Rarity, absolutely wonderful. You're just screwing with my mind now, aren't you?

“Look, I just didn't know you were there, that's all. I didn't want to wake Fluttershy or Pinkie Pie." You make a quick gesture to both ponies in question as if to say 'see what you've done?'

Pinkie rolls over, cracking one eye open to survey the world from upside down. Moments later, she drags herself to her hooves and unsteadily meanders towards you in a sleepy daze, “But you knew I was here, right? Oh no! Did you forget?!" Her voice cracks in alarm as her eyes pop open and her hoof shoots out to touch your forehead with an overly enthusiastic 'clock'. “Is all the pain and wooziness coming back? Need a bucket?”

Pinkie's tongue pokes out from the side of her mouth, inspecting every single reaction as she pokes and prods your face. Gingerly warding off her probing hooves you nod, “I'm fine, Pinkie. Yes, I knew you were there.”

The oblivious Unicorn must have seen the look because her smile softens into something less smug, “Sorry, dear, it was just too good to resist.”

“Resist what?" Applejack looks over as the pair of ponies and the dragon cross the quiet tavern's main floor towards your table. Rainbow Dash is the first to heave herself down with a sigh.

“He just looked like he fell asleep with his eyes open for a second. That’s all" Spike remarks before joyfully smiling at you. His spikes dip, his eyes aren't glowing, and his breath hisses out in belabored wheezes as he lets go of the overfilled bag. After mopping his brow he limply settles into his seat, “Did you find any more clues?”

“Pssst." Fluttershy gestures around the quiet but not entirely deserted tavern, “I really think we should talk about this upstairs. It's not, well, nice to frighten the ponies out here." You nod and gather up the photos.

“Oh c’mon I just sat down.” Rainbow grumbles and crosses her hoovers over her chest with a petulant scowl. “Aaach, fine. Hey, Spike, pick me up a Blackstrap Special, would ya?”

A snort and a dismissive flick of her tail is the only response. You loft a brow, “Blew all your bits on some wonderbolt stuff or something?”

“Pah, I wish. Rain cloaks and some warm clothes for when we're supposed to be freezing." She scoffs. “Seriously, you've seen the weather maps, right?" Rainbow interjects with a hazy tone of indignation. A less than impressed groan from Rarity garners nothing more than a murmur under her breath.

Pinkie yawns again and stretches in a few almost feline moves before picking her way toward the bar, “What did everypony want, It's still, like, seven hours ‘till breakfast. Or five for you, Applejack. Laaast call at the trough."

“I asked for it first." Rainbow replies with a flutter of her wings as she looks over a pair of mountaineering packs and a dreadfully overladen saddlebag practically bursting at the seams. “This junk is going to take up a ton of room.”

“Ahem." Rarity narrows her eyes at hearing the items called 'junk'. The gloomy stare doesn’t deter the Pegasus who sets about preening her pinions, “Pinkie Pie, I happen to know you can get a fairly pleasant iced tea with carob. I think I'd fancy that with a salted rim and a sprig of mint… for a nightcap, of course."

“That actually sounds really good right about now. Two, please." Fluttershy nods.

“Hmm." Applejack muses, “Cherry cordial with a sprig of mint, heated up, topped with real orange juice, pulp and everythin'." You blankly stare at Applejack, having expected some sort of mulled cider or the like.

That came out of left field, but I guess an apple farmer might want something different if she's out.

Everypony began packing up, taking the purchases upstairs. “Spike,” you get the Dragon’s attention, “did you see the Princesses?" He might have been the only other individual to have any contact with them.

He cringes a little while reluctantly getting to his feet again. “Nah, not quite. I’m not sure I want to, they sure were trying to get a letter to Twilight earlier, though. Ugh, Celestia's writing is-”

“Yeah." You nod, knowing exactly what he means as he waggles a claw and adopts a pained expression.

Looking over at the genuine wince of pain from Applejack, you reflexively offer some help, “Ap-" You feel mare's gaze silence you as she tucks the maps away. That stubborn, hard-set, and stern jawed expression speaks for the farmpony: 'don't you dare patronize me.' “Apparently, uh, we have a time where we can take the train tomorrow. Right, Spike?”

“Abooout that. Uh, I guess we can talk about it upstairs." He nervously swings his pack on his back.

“Last one up's a rotten log." Rainbow smirks and scarpers off up the steps with a clamour, leaving you and the others with the heavy items.

“Rainbow, darling, I got us rooms six and nine… she probably didn't hear a word I said." Rarity shakes her head and levitates one of the other mountaineering packs and her own saddlebags, leaving you, Fluttershy, and Pinkie with one massively oversized rucksack. “I couldn't get individual accommodations or one large enough for seven. My apologies." The Unicorn mare smiles back over her shoulder, “But that shouldn't be too terrible. We can fit up to four ponies a room and all our accoutrements with room to spare."

“Spike, I've got a question." You shoulder most of the pack with a grunt, nearly overbalancing as the incredible weight shifts.

“We don't know. Nopony does. Celestia and Luna haven't approved all the repair efforts yet, so it's being done locally. The Express sure did a lot of damage when it exploded… you were there right? What was it like?”

“Oh.” Spike sounded disappointed. No big fireball?” you just shook your head. It was just a solid pillar of steam and shrieking shrapnel. The dragon picks up where he left off, “Anyway, the track past the Unicorn range to Vanhoover is still blocked, and the Saddle Lake line could take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks to fix. Depending on the weather. Sorry." It can't be that hard for him to detect your deflated look.

“We're stuck here? Wait, the Unicorn Range tracks are out? That's north! Since when?" Alarm bells ring in your head.

“Yeah, there was a rock slide. That was the news, like, a few weeks ago when you first showed up." He lofts a brow, “Remember?”

On second thought, it did sound vaguely familiar. It was one of the last headlines you recalled before the Unicorn Slasher story became popular. “That was weeks ago. And it's still not all cleaned up?" It gets a shake of his head. “So is any line working, or is Equestria at a standstill?”

“Oh no, it's just the track here." Spike scratches his head as you all make your way towards the stairs as a rough conglomerated group with Applejack taking up the rear to avoid being seen limping. “There's other lines, we can even take the train from the point just past where the Express was wrecked. I heard they’re making a temporary shack and station there. The tracks there are fine, so it's only a walk in the snow, then we can take the train from there back to Ponyville.”

“We'll talk about it upstairs." Plodding up the stairs, you linger back; half of that was to make sure Applejack is alright and half because the rucksack is awkward and heavy. Pinkie's hoofsteps grow closer as you decide to wait.

The upper floor's walls are all wood with a closed-in utilitarian look of bare timber. Really, it isn't too different from the upstairs hallway of the Apple family farm aside from the fact that this was wider. Looking at the oil lamps and drip pans for any emergency, it all seems like a fire hazard but it holds a rustic patina like a medieval castle.

As Applejack passes by you call back, “Need a hoof, Pinkie?" It only just occured to you how many wooden tankards there would be.

“Nah, I'm good, thanks. Oh, but you can take yours if you're in a hurry." She trots up the steps balancing a tray of steaming wooden mugs on her head.

“I... have reservations about spoiling the balance of a tray of hot beverages perched on a pony's head. No thanks, I'll wait." The bag you're toting is heavy enough.

“Suit yourself." She smiles through a tired but still perky exterior. You and Pinkie form the rearguard as you enter room number 7. You are the last to slip in and take the time to make sure the door is firmly shut behind you. There is a twist lock which is secured as well, the 'click' seeming to draw glances from your companions who settle in.

The room is spartan: a round wooden table dominates the center of the room with four cots, one on each corner with a small chest. Sturdy timbers support the roof along the rear stone back wall which has an elegantly arched window with panels of green and red glass. A candelabra lights the middle of the table while smaller lanterns hang near the four tuck beds. With everyone present and gathered around the table, you let Pinkie set the platter down then take a seat with your back to the door. Seven sit around the table, a veil of silence falling around you as the windows rattle and shake from the buffeting zephyr outside.

Despite the many 'thanks' to Pinkie as she parcels out the drinks, you can see that look of eagerness, anxiety, and anticipation glowing from within. Those same eyes all eventually fall on you, well, all but Pinkie, who sighs contently after taking a swig of her drink. It is a weird way to begin, but it actually settles your nerves to see that some things don't change.

“Ladies and gentlecolts," you begin and place down the photos of the various messages, “the order of what happened officially is wrong. Applejack used her head and figured it out by suggesting this seemingly unimportant case came first. An: One.-" you flip down the first image of the 'possibly related' cases, “Twew: two. Threy: Three. Fey-or: four." Each time you set the pictures down on top of the other. They all crowd around to look at the images. “Rarity, it you would, could you look at these." You pass her the three photos that had poems ending in þréo. Taking them, she scans each one in turn with an eye like a hawk.

You continue, “Applejack pointed out the times, this 'related' file was the first one to occur that had a murder. Vanhoover has been focused on capturing a murderer. This 'Unicorn Slasher'. It's true, he's after Unicorns but I don't think simply to kill them. Look at the gap in days. There is no pattern in the abduction cases-”

“Pardon me, dear." You smile and let Rarity interject. She daintily taps her hoof near a few smudges and crooked letters, “Is that what you were looking at?”

“One of these things is not like the other, one of these things does not belong." You chime happily as Rarity returns the photos.

Every individual waits for the fashionista and artisan to weigh in. “These two are crooked. Besides, they weren't written with a cloth like the last one, it was with a brush, maybe a feather brush. Something to make the edges ragged and not smeared." She held her head high and nodded once, quite confident in her assertion. You were confident in her too, having seen the same signs. .

“Hold on a second, you're telling me there's more psychos out there?!" Rainbow slams her hoof down against the table, causing most of the wooden tankards to jump and slosh.

Taking a breath, you sip the sickly sweet drink and smirk as if to say 'think about it'.

“Look, number four happened last, it's still using-" you are interrupted again.

“The same cloth daub." Rarity confirms it as well and smiles. She must have an inkling where you wree going with it, a similar smirk from Applejack says she does too.

“May I see?" Fluttershy's request gets you to hand over all the pictures. She keeps them in their proper order, but looks at the picture as a smile forms on her face. “It's a big feather, but not a pony feather.” Fluttershy ponders aloud. Seeing as everypony else looks at her, she continues, “It looks like it’s from a Raven. Maybe they’re a lurking predator. Some use fear if they're not strong or fast enough, then they'll try to frighten their poor prey into making a mistake.”

Rainbow strikes her forehead with a hoof, “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Storm Gremlins. Storm Gremlins just lap up worry." She sighs in consternation.

Silence greets Applejack's question, it is an impenetrable sensation as you still don't know who the target is, exactly. “If we play our cards right, it'll be Ulf. I think he may be after five Unicorns. Five specific Unicorns: so far he has four: Winsome Grey with the crescent moon, Paisley Quilts with the clover leaf, Inspector Maple and a maple leaf…” you slap down a picture of each, then flip through the pictures looking for the last two symbols.

“I don’t know about the killing, but… it’s got to be here. Hmm.” You look at the cases and tap the Ice Wine farm report. “There were two here, so it has to be somepony else we haven’t seen yet. Look, if we can find those out and find what we’re missing, then we can lay a trap for him and beat the Slasher at his own game." You grin and emphatically strike a fist in your open hand, “Bait! Bait, that just so happens, to be quite safe." Looking at Rarity she flinches and rears back, “Rarity, how good are your makeup skills?”

She slowly sips her drink while eying you skeptically, “Well, I'm sure I could manage something fairly decent. Why, pray tell?"

“Because you're the only Unicorn we all know and can be completely trusted. We'll simply cover your cutie mark and add in another to fit." You brace and listen to the inevitable backlash.

“Oh, no, hold on-" Spike interjects, “It's way too dangerous! You've seen how many ponies have been killed and you want Rarity to act as bait for this monster?!" He snorts smoke, narrows his eyes, and bares his serrated fangs like a vicious dog.

“Spike’s right. No. Uh-uh. It’s too dangerous." Applejack nods in complete agreement with the Dragon.

“Not at all." you stop and sip your drink, letting your friends take that in. “We'll be the ones in danger, not Rarity. After all, Rarity will be essential to him. It's the last piece of the puzzle. He'll fight like mad to take her away, and likely, right to Twilight."

“I don't, but Twilight is alive, and you know that, too. It's a risk, but I think it'll be safe for Rarity, maybe not us. Besides," you shrug and flash him a smile, “we have to go to Vanhoover anyway.”

“Oooh, oh, I know!” Pinkie bounces up and down, holding her hoof up and supporting it with the other as she waves it energetically for attention. You nod to recognize her, “Is it 'cause we only have three of the five cutie marks because that file didn't mention the last one? So unless we go over eeeevery missing filly flier in the past who knows how long, then we're gonna' have to find a way to make five minus three equal two, equal one!" Pinkie smiles as you snap your fingers and point at her. She nailed it.

“And there's only one individual who might know what that last cutie mark was: the wounded constable in Vanhoover's Riverview Institution." You fill in the blanks, getting a breath from Rainbow as you skip the file over towards her.

She tosses it right back as if to say 'I believe you.' There is a long, unbearable silence that greets the plan. It’s broken at long last with a clearing of a throat that sounds like a nicker, “So, lemme get this straight." Applejack leans on her elbows and stares at you, “We're goin' ta’ travel to Vanhoover-”

“On hoof, in winter, then get Rarity dolled up to trick a maniac inta' tryin' to nab 'er, pick a fight with him, a gaggle of Storm Gremlins, and a hydra, then force 'em to release Twilight?" Applejack's incredulity does seem to have some merit when stated like that.

You falter, then go through with the truth, “And release four other Unicorns, but yeah, pretty much. We need to go. Spike, I absolutely need you to stay with the prin-”

The shocked Dragon snorts and flares his nostrils, releasing small wisps of flames, “Oh, no! There is no way I’m staying here-”

You quickly raise your voice and push through the interruption, “Princesses because you’re the only one capable of ensuring their messages get through and are responded to! If Celestia sends you a dozen messages asking for Twilight, like you said she did earlier, then I’d guess that would probably put you in danger, us in danger, and slow everything down."

“Yeah, well how are you going to get messages through?! I’m the only one who can do something like that. Face it, you need me!" He bites back sharply, leaning closer towards you with curling tendrils of smoke wafting from his nose and a blaze of anger in his slitted eyes.

“Do you really think Celestia and Luna are going to be coming to the rescue if they get any worse?" The dire question halts any other conversation for a moment. Taking advantage of that, you scan the faces of your friends, seeing a motley group of confused and uncomfortable individuals, “Does anypony have a better idea? Honestly, we could use one.”

Applejack shakes her head with a lengthy sigh, “No. Just seein' what we're gettin' ourselves into.”

“I was thinking about that snow problem." A soft but hopeful voice of intelligent speculation hesitantly begins while tapping her dainty hoof against the table. Nominally, it’s a tap of thought, but it gets everypony's attention and focuses it back on Fluttershy instead of what had nearly ended in a shouting match. “Angel bunny walks really well on the snow.”

Pinkie gasps as if she'd clued in to Fluttershy's plan, “Fantastic, so we'll get a sled pulled by bunnies to ferry us across the snow at bunny blitzing speed, around Timberwolf packs, all in a desperate gambit to reach Vanhoover alive! It's cute and super effective!”

“W-what?” Fluttershy blinks in surprise. Despite Pinkie’s unfaltering grin, she continues, “Well, that's not exactly what I meant. I mean bunnies travel well on snow because they have big feet.”

It gets a swift snort from Rainbow, “Yeah, well, our hooves aren't getting any bigger.”

You hold up a hand to Rainbow, something working its way over in your head, “Hang on, I think she's got something here. Fluttershy, you're saying make your feet wider and shallower, right?" she nods, breathily wisping her pink locks out from in front of her bright blue eyes. The smile matches your own, “Then you travel right over snow easily: snowshoes." You sigh and settle back, the image of the antiquated things make some sense. The Pegasus nods at the idea, confirming that you are indeed on the same line of thought.

Applejack looks around the table before shaking her head and taking a sip of her drink before looking at yours and Fluttershy's to see if she was somehow missing something. “Ya' know, all we've gotta' do is walk around Saddle Lake back to Ponyville, then get a message ta’ one of the other towns. Ah reckon we'll see if they can spare a train right through the Smokeys to Tall Tail then right on up ta’ Vanhoover. Well, that'r take a Canterlot train ta’ Raven's Nest pass'n hike over that slide. Either way, we ain't gettin' through without hoofin' it.”

Applejack ignores it and looks back at you, “Couldn't we just get a heap'a help from other ponies? Ah mean, Big Mac can wallop any Gremlin, Rainbow can easily rustle up some help from her weather team, Royal guards ain't no slouches neither, can bet yer bridle the constabulary'd help, and about any good pony'd want to help ta’ get a princess back.”

Her logic is sound. Taking a breath and another sip of the sweet drink, you mull that over amid the general hubbub of agreement. “That might do. But it means tipping off anyone watching our plans. Besides, hiding any other ponies would be compounding the chance that we'd get caught. If we face them straight up, who knows how many Gremlins or Hydras he has, or who else he has with him. If we trick him, we might get him alone or with just a few others. I figured we’d have seen more signs of Storm Gremlins and Hydras before, but because Twilight was on a train with a lot of other ponies around. He must have pulled out all the stops. If we force a confrontation over our bait, it's putting a lot of ponies at risk. Besides: setting out a plan like this will get the Princesses involved. Celestia and Luna aren't themselves." You settle in, leaning forward towards Applejack and fixing her with a stare, “Can we afford to risk Celestia, Luna, and Twilight?”

Devil's advocate or no, the question hangs unanswered on the air. Nopony answers at all for half a minute. “No, ah don't reckon we can.”

“And if we get a group that wouldn't go to the princess, then we would be even more conspicuous to everypony else." Rarity pinches her lips and casts her gaze around the table. “Both plans are dangerous, maybe we should put it to a vote?”

“Sounds fair, write something down then put it in a hat, X's and O's, juuuuust so nopony feels pressured. I’ve got a perfect hat for it!" Pinkie pokes her head into her own pack and, with a flick, opens a collapsing top hat. Parchment and pencils follow and in moments you were ready for your vote. Rarity precisely folds and cuts the sheet of parchment so no shape could betray who voted for who.

“Alright, so X's are Rightly's plan, O's are Applejack." Pinkie smiles, but until then, it doesn't sound like you are in some sort of argument or competition. It feels like both, but she goes around the table, starting clockwise, which means Spike is first and you are next. He scratches down a shape and places it in the hat, you do the same thing. Even as the pink mare trots up to you, giving you the pencil she is balancing on her upper lip like a moustache, you have to take a moment to weigh out the decision.

'If you recklessly endanger our subjects, intentionally cause harm, or otherwise try to corrupt or destroy what serves this realm, then you will leave me no choice but to banish you.'

Celestia's far more reasoned, calmer, but imperious voice reverberates through your mind as you make your decision. One put you and your closest friends in immediate danger, one could put the royal sisters and thus the whole realm in danger. The greatest good of the realm, the sisters, and many Vanhoover citizens versus the risk to yourself and a handful of others.

With a resigned sigh, you make a mark, fold it up, and put the parchment in the hat.

You don't even want to glimpse at Applejack, you bury your face in your hands and avoid facing her or anypony else. There is no way that decision, either way, would have been satisfactory. The scratch of pencils, one after another, is enough.

In moments the voting is done, Pinkie counts out the results, “Well, we've got two O's and five X's. Rightly's plan it is!" She seems to be happy enough with that before saying, “Oh, wait, I was just supposed to say whose plan takes the cake, and then I went and thought about cake, and then I said it anyway... sorry." She neither looks nor sounds sorry, but really that was alright. Although, it does leave you with the tightening feeling that your friends have all just thrown themselves into the face of danger. All of it based on a stupid plan you came up with.

“Aaaw yeah! Now we can get up close and buck 'em up personally! After all, you sounded like you almost had them last time, so with me here, they might as well just roll over." So, it seems Rainbow's vote isn't all that secret anymore.

Cutting any further inspection off, Rarity yawns and stretches, “I think we'd better get some sleep. I'll get up early and see about making these snowshoes. Or at least draw up some concepts. But right now I'm simply exhausted." She doesn't need to feign tiredness, the exhausted Unicorn is barely sitting upright and her eyelids keep drooping with every passing moment.

“You know, if we push aaaall the beds together, might be big enough for a slumber party," Pinkie grins, “and it'll be warmer, too!”

“I think it might be best to wait for that, Pinkie." Rarity just glances around, but she must have already decided, “There's only one possible arrangement that would be proper. Just a single course of action that would ensure everything is decent and proper; something to keep everypony quiet, and refrain from being up all night." She smiles and looks at you.

♣

"I guess I should warn you, I snore." Spike straightens the sheets of his bed across the room while you listen to the creaks as he fixes up the bedspread. Staring up at the ceiling, you blindly fumble for the knob of the oil lamp on your bedside.

“Yeah?" He looks up as you roll your head over, seeing the bundles of supplies crammed into every corner of the little room.

“You're not mad about all that, are you? I mean, staying here and taking care of the princesses.”

“If you're asking if I'm happy about it, then no, of course not. I think this is ridiculous, but everypony else seems to have their minds made up, I guess." His irritable mien returns, cold and removed from everything else at hand as the constant sound of adjusting sheets finally stops.

“I just think you've known Twilight and the princesses the longest, and your... uh, talents as a letter communicator might cause problems from Celestia if she keeps sending messages. That's got to make you sick, right?”

“Yeah, I'm sure I'd mess something up." He sighs in resignation and dims the oil lamp on his bedside table.

“Well, not you, like I said, Celestia is... not thinking so well. We need you for this too. You're just as important in making sure they don't jump the gun." You settle in some more and tuck your arms behind the pillow.

“Never mind. Really, you're our home-base commander, keep everything calm and we'll get some messages back when we can. If you hear anything important, which I’m sure you will if something big happens, just have some plans ready to call in the cavalry."

“So… we good?” You ask the last with a bit of a nervous nibble on your inner lip.

The silence weighted down on you like an oppressive cloud. It was a full ten seconds before he answered, “Just take care of Rarity and we will be. She’s special you know.”

“I know, I know. And yeah, I will." You sigh and nod again. There are quiet whispering voices on the other side of the wall, a tossed pillow and more harsh growl was followed by a giggle or two.

“So..." Spike breaks the silence, “Did you think you were blushing around Ap-”

A ragged snort like a wild boar causes you to bolt upright. You twitch and perk your ear up, listening closer to the other room and hearing a wheezing whinny and creak of a cot followed by a few indistinct murmurs of annoyance.

You drop your head back to your pillow with a puff and cover your ears with a smirk. You knew you could at least have some semblance of a comfortable sleep, snuggled up next to a over-stuffed haversack in a room with a pouty Dragon.

Icon: Remnants of the North

by Vixavior

Act 3- Chapter 5: The Plan