Miss Dash: an Introduction
It felt strange being surrounded on all sides by ‘normal’ ponies. Everywhere he looked were ponies, of every colour and hue he could imagine, but none of them, not a single one, had any augmentations. It felt wrong. It felt… backwards. He knew when he’d been sent here that he would be in for a shock, but this was just beyond anything he could have imagined. He had been briefed before his journey on some of the peculiar customs of these ponies, but he didn’t quite understand the scale of it until he’d properly arrived.
Cogwheel pulled on the collar of his trench coat. It was considerably hotter here than his home country. The sun beat down with a lot more intensity and seemed to move more slowly. It was probably just his imagination, but the days definitely felt longer. He played around with the bandage over his right eye. It was very uncomfortable and he wanted to remove it, but he knew his chances of making any friends here would plummet if they could see what he was hiding. The saddlebags he was forced to wear also hurt his back, putting pressure on the various pistons lining his spine. He would have taken his coat off to spare himself the heat too, but again, he had to hide his modifications.
He felt (and looked) extremely out of place amongst these ponies. His fur was a dark grey, and his mane was jet black and spiked off backwards as if he’d received a face full of hot steam. Which, in truth, he had. He was a little taller than most of the ponies that walked past him, and compared to the other stallions here his facial features were a lot sharper and his cheek bones were quite a bit higher. His eyes (or, to be more precise, his eye) was a light grey and the trench coat he donned was a dusty brown, with worn joints and various patches stained with tainted water. He felt like he was quite obvious, even with his cunning disguise.
He gulped and began to slowly make his way towards the small town, ponies walking past him on their way out and in. Most of the time they ignored him and carried on their way, but occasionally a pony would stop and stare and he would hastily check that his bandage was still in place before walking on, his head bowed, avoiding eye contact. He heard the unfamiliar sound of laughter as three young fillies ran past him, chasing each other. It wasn’t that laughter was prohibited in his country, it just wasn’t a common sound. There was little to laugh about in such an industry driven society. Still, it warmed his heart a little to see ponies having fun.
He was a little worried about what he was going to do for accommodation. His Overseers hadn’t really thought that far ahead and so he was in a little hot water. He had a few hundred ‘bits’ on his person which he’d been provided with, having been informed that they were used as currency. But he was reluctant to spend any of them. Back in his home land, money was only ever spent on what was necessary, or on improving efficiency in the industrial regions. Whatever money he did come across he was careful to not lose or spend too quickly, instead saving it until he had to spend it. Plus, he didn’t know what prices in this country were like.
At heart he was a scavenger. He was what his society called a ‘Scrap Crawler’. He would patrol the streets and industrial regions looking for machine parts that he would store in his coat pockets or in the satchel that was slung around his neck. Once home he would set about combining them or fixing them, put together various contraptions that he then either kept to make his life a little easier or as a memento, or sold to passers-by for small amounts of cash. Scrap Crawling was a profession that had a certain degree of finesse attached to it. One had to have a knack for spotting things that could potentially be useful and one had to be resourceful and creative. It wasn’t exactly working in the factories, were one had a guaranteed income and certain benefits, but it wasn’t illegal and it meant he could work on his own schedule and use his imagination.
He looked around him. Everywhere there were buildings. This wasn’t anything new to him; the streets in his country were narrow and often cluttered, but that was what he liked about them. Here the streets were wide and clutter free, with the ponies stopping to talk or little foals playing games with each other. The open space scared him. There were no real parks or places where one could go to get away from the claustrophobia of life where he came from, but occasionally one could sit on a roof and marvel as the sun set and the moon rose. There weren’t any roads linking cities, primarily because there was no reason to link anything. The entire country was just one massive city, constantly ticking over as it produced the goods necessary to sustain its own existence. Towards the outskirts there were several farm regions, but these were closed off to the public to stop people stealing from the farmers.
Cogwheel was looking for any indication of a home, or a public place where he could find ponies willing to house him. There was a young mare standing outside one building looking through a series of letters, so that must have been the town post depot. A pony wouldn’t go all the way home just to count their mail, would they? No, they’d go to the mail depot, pick up any parcels or messages addressed to them and then open them inside once they returned. And he wasn’t willing to stay in a mail depot, no matter how pretty it looked. Let’s see, what else? There was a stallion washing the windows of another building across the street. Such a building must be important, therefore. Perhaps it was the house of the town Overseer? If so he definitely wasn’t going to be staying there. Was that stallion the Overseer, or did he just work for them? He wanted to find out, so he approached the stallion to see what he could glean.
“I see you, sir.” When he spoke, Cogwheel heavily over pronounced the s and spoke very slowly. This wasn’t his first language and his accent didn’t work very well with the sounds it required. His language was predominantly composed of s and f, mimicking the sound of steam which was the power source around which his entire civilisation was founded. It was a rather amusing activity to sit next to a steam pipe in an industrial region and just listen to the sounds it made, seeing if it would make any words. Still, the stallion put down the cloth he was holding in his hoof and looked at Cogwheel, a slightly perplexed look on his face.
“Yea, I see you too. How can I help you?”
Cogwheel smiled. He was pleased to see that these ponies knew how to be polite. He bowed his head as a sign of respect before continuing, “Sir, I was wondering if you were the town Overseer?”
“Overseer? Do you mean Mayor? No, I’m not. I just wash windows.”
“Yes, that is what I thought. An Overseer would never do something so demeaning as wash his own windows.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Well, the Overseer is far too important to conduct such a task meant for us citizens. They are far too busy running the district. Does the Overseer live here? I would like to speak to them.”
“No, the Mayor lives on the other side of town. I live here.”
“You live here? Then why are you washing these windows?”
“Because I want them to look nice. Plus, it makes them easier to see out of.”
“Of course, but why? Why is it important for your home to look nice? What position of significance do you hold? You’re not an Overseer, so are you an Officer?”
“No.”
“A Factory Owner?”
“No.”
“Oh dear… You’re not… You’re not the district Patroller, are you? Please forgive me for my informalities, sir, if you are he. I am new to this country.”
“No, I just wash windows. I’m an ordinary citizen and I don’t hold any position of power. What was it you wanted again?”
Cogwheel breathed a sigh of relief. Had he been back home, it was likely he’d have been taken to the district prison for being so rude to a Patroller, one of the highest obtainable civil ranks possible. He smiled again, trying to look casual but failing horribly. He was very nervous talking to this pony that kept trying to see under the bandage over his eye and lacked any physical augmentations of his own. After remembering all the words for what he wanted to say, he spoke again, “Where can I find a place to stay? I do not live here, and I have no home. I can pay if you want?”
“Let me see, well there is a hotel towards the town centre, but that’s quite expensive. How many bits do you have, and how long are you staying?”
“Two hundred, and I do not know.”
“Ah. Okay, well if I were you, I’d stay at the inn. It’s just a few streets down from here. It’s not quite as high class as the hotel, but it serves good enough food and you can stay for several weeks for little cost. It’s called the Divine Raven. Just look for the sign with the raven in a white robe.”
“Thank you, sir. Here, I can pay you for your troubles.”
“No, no, please. I don’t want any of your money. It wasn’t any trouble. By the way, you may want to get your eye looked at. I can tell you where the hospital is if you need it.”
“I am fine. I depart now, sir.”
“Yea, bye.”
Cogwheel bowed his head once again and began walking once more. He was very pleased with himself for being able to have a decent conversation with the stallion. He’d never really been able to put his English to the test until now and he was glad to see that the lessons he’d been given had paid off. Still, he was a little confused. Hotel? Inn? He knew the words, but not what they meant. His country didn’t have any ‘hotels’ or ‘inns’. He assumed they were places that many ponies could stay at once, but he didn’t like the sound of that. Back where he came from, public living quarters were for the dregs of society; those too lazy to make their own living. Housing where he came from was cheap. If one worked hard, even if they were just a humble Scrap Crawler like him, they could afford the standard two room, single story house which came with its own water supply, its own electricity and was protected by the district Patroller. If one was lazy and couldn’t be bothered to work, they would be thrown into the public housing quarters. They were essentially prisons except without the bars or the armed guards. The ponies there were given a single, small room, with communal taps and electronics, and they were not protected by the Patroller. They were for the scum of society and most ponies wouldn’t dare spit in their direction. At least Scrap Crawlers benefited society by providing quality goods at modest prices, and by stopping useful items from being destroyed. In his country, ponies who didn’t contribute to society were not given any of the benefits that society provided, and were simply ignored by most.
But judging by what the stallion had said, their public housing wasn’t quite like that. For one thing, you had to pay for it. Cogwheel didn’t really like the idea of having to pay to stay in sub-standard accommodation, but the stallion had also said that it was ‘not quite as high class as the hotel’. If the ‘hotels’ in this country were for the upper classes, then the inns must have been for the working classes, so he expected it to be much like his own home. If he was lucky then it may even provide him with free water and electricity. Now he was excited. This was going to be a whole new experience. There was so much here that was so alien to him. Besides, wasn’t his entire purpose here to study the way society in this country worked? Already he was noticing that these ponies had some differences. There were ponies with horns sticking out of their heads or who had sprouted wings and could even fly! All of Cogwheels kin were predominantly earth bound, but had the inherent ability to control steam and water vapour, making them able to summon and walk on clouds much like he saw the winged ponies here doing.
He made his way down the large and open streets, smiling to himself as he looked at everything, listened to everything and smelt everything. The buildings and the ponies who occupied them were all bright colours that made them look quite funny. He himself was a dark grey, and most other ponies that he lived amongst were either black, grey or brown in hue, but they did have various shades. Some ponies were so light grey that they were practically white! But there went a red mare. And up on that ladder was a purple stallion. And speaking to each other at the side of the road, a mint green horned pony and a creamy coloured not horned pony with a very vibrant, bicoloured mane. His ears were constantly under assault from voices of ponies merging into one incoherent noise, broken up by the occasional bought of laughter and through his nostrils he could pick up phenomenal scents that made his head swim.
A particularly alluring scent crossed his path, almost forcing him to stop dead in his tracks as he swooned before this strange smell. He looked around. Something around here smelt good, but what was it? The only smells he was used to were the smells of steam, oil and dirt. There were other things besides, but those were more minor. But this was so divine, he had to know what it was. His eyes fell on a very strange looking building, at which were many ponies talking and laughing and eating strange foods of similar vibrant hues to their fur. Whatever that smell was, he was sure it was coming from there. He diverted from his course to investigate, hoping to determine what it was that demanded his attention so.
He walked past the first few ponies at tables, and a new, less powerful smell hit him. It was rich, and earthy, but not like dirt earthy, and more like a delicious earthy. He followed this new smell to its source, a mug of hot brown liquid that a pony was contentedly sipping on as she talked to her friend. He wanted it, but he felt bad for wanting it. Society where he came from was not driven around the desire for luxuries or the want for nice things. It was very much a community spirit, with everypony doing their bit to contribute the country’s industry. But the smells of this land were so tempting to him, so tantalisingly exciting him. If it tasted as good as it smelt, then it tasted good. He turned away from the liquid and returned his attention to the scent that had first caught his attention.
He followed it inside, where he took in the view with mild surprise. Everywhere, ponies sat at tables just like the ones outside, and ate and drank the same things as the ponies outside. It seemed odd to divide up these two groups when they were so indiscernible, but there must have been a reason for it. He continued to follow his nose until he reached a glass counter. The smell continued beyond the counter, but he was reluctant to continue. He felt crossing the physical barrier would be a breach of the rules of this society. He looked down into the counter, past the glass that prevented him from reaching a hoof in and taking anything. Before him were the most insane things he’d ever seen. They were all different shapes and sizes, and all coated in a different film of substances, ranging from a plain coat of… something, to wild and crazy things like small little rounded things and sparkly stuff. One thing was for sure though, they all looked very appetising.
Now, he did realise that he was being distracted somewhat from his original goal, but it all went back to the same thing; he was here to study how these ponies operated, and if that meant savouring a few locals delicacies then he would just have to take that one for the team. He smiled to himself. He was going to enjoy his time here more than scouring the coal fields for old mining mechanisms.
As he admired the strange foodstuffs, a pony appeared on the other side of the counter. She was the most ridiculous colour of bright pink that he’d ever seen and it made her look very amusing. She wasn’t looking at him, but at the pony next to him that he hadn’t noticed before. This pony was likewise brightly coloured, but her fur coat was a rather placid blue. What made her funny was her mane. It was so many different colours; red, green, blue, purple and so on. She was one of the winged ponies that could fly and he shyly tapped her on the shoulder as she smiled at the pony opposite her. She turned to look at him, “What?”
“Umm. I… uh… I see you, miss. I was wondering… uh… how you can walk on clouds when you do not seem to have any control over water? It seems strange.”
“Well, it’s just pegasus magic isn’t it?”
“Pegasus… magic?”
“You’ve never heard of pegasus magic? Wow, where have you been all of your life?”
“Scouring the industrial regions looking for supplies.”
“Well… I dunno, it’s just something we pegasi can do. I thought every pegasus could do it. Maybe they can’t where you come from. Where do you come from? I don’t know that accent.”
“Oh. Uh…”
“Here you go, Dashie! Your usual order.” Cogwheel let out a quiet sigh as he was saved from the awkward question. His kind weren’t well known here. The only ponies from this country that knew about him and his kin were the royal family, and they were very cagey about who they told. He’d also been given strict orders not to reveal anything about where he came from unless he was talking to a trusted ally. The rainbow pony picked up a bag filled with something and put it carefully into the saddlebags on her back, “Thanks Pinkie. Here,” she handed over a few gold coins. “I think that’s right. I counted before I left.” The pink pony counted the coins and nodded.
“Yep. That’s the lot. Can I get you anything sir?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you silly!”
“Oh. Um… I… I don’t know. What is all of this, miss?” Pinkie giggled.
“You don’t have to call me miss. Just Pinkie Pie is fine, or Pinkie if you like. Let’s see, we have muffins, cupcakes, regular cakes, sweets, chocolates, milkshakes…”
“Please forgive me for interrupting, but I do not know what any of those things are. Can you show me?”
Pinkie stood and stared at Cogwheel with a rather shocked look. The pony he believed was called Dashie looked rather shocked too, but quickly lost the look in favour of a smug grin. Pinkie’s smile returned to her face again, “Um… yeah, I can show you. I can’t believe you’ve never heard of any of this before! You’ve really been missing out. Or maybe you just call them something else where you’re from,” Cogwheel shuffled awkwardly as conversation turned to his homeland again, but quickly calmed down again when Pinkie presented to him an assortment of items. “Well, let’s see. This is a muffin. They come in all kinds of flavours, depending on how you make ‘em! Dashie here likes the lemon ones, but blueberry is also a popular choice. Or you could just have plain if you like. This is a cupcake. They’re fun to make and eat and they all taste different if you put different frosting on them. This is..”
“Can I just have a normal muffin?”
“Okay, sure. Here,” Pinkie took a bland, brown muffin out of its case under the glass. “Three bits please.”
Cogwheel looked at the muffin. It was a dark brown. It reminded him of the bland tasting food that was the common meal for him and his comrades. He thought for a moment before saying, “Actually, I have changed my mind. Can I have one of those instead?” He tapped his hoof against the glass, pointing at what he was told was a cupcake with a vibrant yellow frosting coating the surface.
“Okie dokie, sir. Not a problem.” She took the muffin back off the counter and replaced it with the item of Cogwheel’s choosing, again smiling and saying, “That’ll be five bits sir.”
“But the last one was three.” Was he being charged extra because he’d been indecisive?
“Well, cupcakes are a little more expensive because they take longer to make. That’s not a problem, is it?”
“No, it is not a problem. Please wait whilst I find my money.” He delved into the satchel around his neck, searching its pockets for the gold coins. He swore quietly as he struggled to locate them. He knew he’d put them in one of these pockets, but the satchel was so full of clock parts, bits of old machinery, pistons, motors and other things that he couldn’t find them. Dashie peaked a look into the satchel and furrowed her brow before returning to standing normally.
After a minute or so of cursing softly and panicking as he thought he’d lost the money, he eventually located it in the last pocket he checked. He never put anything in that pocket so he hadn’t expected to find it there. With a quick sigh of relief he pulled out five of the coins and placed them on the counter. Pinkie scooped them up and smiled, “Okay, you can take it now.” Cogwheel took the cupcake and held it in his hoof, staring at it. He quickly smelt it. It smelt good. Mouth wateringly good. A little nervously, he raised it up to his mouth and prepared to taste it, dreading but expecting to taste the same boring sort of thing that he always tasted whenever he ate something.
As his teeth sank easily through the soft bread like delicacy, he could feel his pulse quicken as he nervously awaited the taste. He chewed, and his eyes widened as an explosion of flavours shot through is tongue and up into his brain, sending a shiver down his piston covered spine. He could taste the sweetness and bubbliness of the bready base, and the sharp, bitterness of the frosting as it melted in the heat of his mouth. He could taste the flavours merging, mixing in his mouth as he chewed, a sense akin to nothing but euphoria dominating his mind. He greedily scoffed the rest of the cupcake, marvelling in the taste sensations that were setting his tongue ablaze and kicking his senses into overdrive. He could feel the sugar begin to diffuse into his bloodstream, pushing him into a state of wild alertness he’d only experienced after taking a caffeine tablet.
He let his guard slip briefly and let out a small string of hissing noises that, in his own language, denoted praise to somepony. Usually such a phrase was reserved for ponies like Overseers or Patrollers, but neither of them could come close to making him feel the way he did now. This pink pony was a goddess! The way she could so easily control his senses, make him feel such a huge jolt of excitement was just otherworldly. If only stuff like this was as readily available back home.
Dashie laughed and Cogwheel looked over, his eye wide and his hoof coated in a thin film of his saliva. He cast her a serious look, “I do not see what is funny, miss. Please explain.”
“Wow! I haven’t seen a pony so excitedly eat a cupcake in my life. Have you seriously never tasted that sort of thing before?”
“No.”
“Where have you been all your life?” Cogwheel fell silent, quickly brainstorming to himself. He made a list of possible things he could say and crossed them off one by one until he arrived at one that sounded plausible.
“I have lived in poverty. I did not get to buy such things.”
“Right I see. Well, I gotta get going. See ya, Pinkie.”
Rainbow smiled at Cogwheel before turning to leave but stopped quickly, craning her neck back and casting Cogwheel a deep stare. Cogwheel shrunk back into himself slightly, not exactly sure what the pegasus was doing, but not willing to say anything in case it came off as rude. Dash turned herself about (again) peered closely at Cogwheel, “Whoa. What happened to your eye?”
“Dashie! That’s a little rude,” piped Pinkie in an abnormally high voice, even for her. Dash waved her off with her hoof.
“Are you okay? Do you need, like, a doctor or something?” Cogwheel played nervously with the collar of his trench coat and gulped.
“Uh… I am fine. Please pay no heed to me. I am… uh… just about to leave.”
“That looks quite serious! Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“Yes, I am sure. I must go.”
“Where are you from exactly? If you’ve travelled far and your eye’s been like that the whole time, then I would be worried.”
Cogwheel sighed and rubbed his left foreleg, searching for an excuse he could use to get out of answering the question, “Well, yes, I have travelled some distance. But I do not need a surgeon, I just need a place to stay.”
“How long are you staying in Ponyville then?”
“I do not know. Probably for some time.”
“Do you have enough bits to afford a room, because no offense, but you don’t look the most well off.”
“I do not know. I would find it easier to stay in the residence of another, but if I must I will stay wherever I can.” Pinkie perked up a little and smiled before raising her hoof into the air.
“Ooh! You could stay here! We always have room!”
Cogwheel frowned slightly. He felt that this pony could annoy him very quickly, despite his usually cool head. Besides, he’d be living right above a ‘social’ area and whilst it would cut travelling times and make study easier, he just didn’t like the noise. No, he didn’t want to stay here, but how did he say that without coming off as rude? When his silence dragged on for a while, Rainbow Dash spoke up instead, “Don’t you have to charge for your rooms? Isn’t that, like, the rules?”
“Oh, yea. Mrs Cake wouldn’t be very happy if I gave rooms away. Aww, that’s a shame. I’m sure you could stay with Dashie, though!”
There was a simultaneous call of, “What?” before both ponies looked off to one side and pretended to not see each other. Dash walked up to Pinkie and began to have a quiet discussion whilst Cogwheel pondered the proposal. On one hoof, he didn’t know anything about this pony or where she lived. On the other, she’d seemed nice enough and genuinely concerned for him. Would she charge him though? He had precious few bits as it was for what was an indefinitely long stay and he still had to buy food and other things to keep himself alive. He wouldn’t be able to afford a rent, not at any price that would benefit the landlord at least.
He looked up again as Dash returned to him and smiled, “Well, I’ve thought it over. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you stayed at my place. But there is a problem.”
“And that is?”
“I live in a cloud house. You’re an earth pony and you can’t fly, so I don’t know how to get you up there. On top of that, I don’t think you can walk on clouds. I had a think and I suppose I could ask Twilight to…”
“I can walk on clouds. And fly, in a way.” Rainbow Dash laughed loudly before calming herself down and putting a hoof on Cogwheel’s shoulder.
“Oh yea? And how’s that?”
“I can control steam and water vapour. I can walk on clouds and make use of the moisture in the air to create a platform to rise on. In a way it is flying.”
“This I gotta see. Okay, we’ll go to my place, but then you gotta do your magic steam thing and prove you’re not just trying to make yourself look cool. Okay?”
With the deal made and shaken on (a process that Cogwheel didn’t understand very much, as it had no legal binding what so ever), the two set off back towards Dashie’s house in the clouds, passing several more ponies and more extravagant buildings and more amazing smells and by the mighty power of steam this place was awesome! He turned to the mare next to him and began to talk again, “Miss… Dashie did you say your name was.” She cringed slightly.
“Uh, only Pinkie calls me that. You can call me Rainbow Dash, or if you like just one of those names, I don’t mind.”
“Oh. Many apologies, Dash. So, Dash, why did you decide to let me stay with you? That seems oddly kind of you.”
“Well, we do pride ourselves here on our kindness and hospitality. Besides, you seem like a pretty cool guy. Plus, you look kinda strange and I’d like to know more about you and the machine parts you’re carrying around for some reason. Just so long as you don’t make too much noise, okay? Because if you wake me up from one of my naps I’ll be very annoyed. And be cool if I have anypony round, because I wanna keep my image up. No offence.”
“Do not worry, Dash. I am quiet. I will stay out of the way. I hope this is not any trouble to you.”
“Nah, it’s not a problem. I got some spare room. You’ll have to provide for yourself though, cus I am not going to buy you anything. If you need more bits you can get a job or something.”
“Well, I am very grateful. I am not worried about making money. I have my own trade.”
“So long as your trade doesn’t involve anything that endangers me I’m cool with it. I can give you a spare room if you need it. Just don’t drink my cola or I will kill you.”
They continued on through town for about a quarter of an hour, Cogwheel’s senses under constant assault from all the luxuries this civilisation seemed to harbour. The buildings began to thin out once again as they neared the outskirts of town and soon the urban landscape gave way to fields and trees. Cogwheel was used to foliage by now. Initially the large trees and luscious
Rainbow Dash stopped abruptly in the middle of a field and Cogwheel stopped a few metres on, a little confused. She began to flap her wings and lifted off into the air, hovering slightly above the ground. Cogwheel cocked his head to one side, “What are you doing?”
“My house is in the sky, remember?” Cogwheel looked up. Above him was a magnificent cloud house, the likes of which he’d never seen. It was huge! There must have been dozens of rooms, and each of them large enough to fit his entire house in. Dash began to fly upwards, ultimately landing on the lip of the cloud and looking down at Cogwheel. She half expected him to just stand there awkwardly as he realised she’d called his bluff, but she was surprised when he placed his fore hoof on his chest and began to summon a light mist around him. The mist thickened until it was more like a cloud, and using it he lifted himself up, floating above the ground and rising steadily until he was standing next to Dash, a smug grin on his muzzle, “I told you I could control steam.” She grinned.
“That was pretty cool. How’d you learn to do that?”
“I was taught it by a factory worker I once knew. He was quite adept at it and his main job was to use that very skill to access areas of the factory that others could not, where he could make repairs and so on. It is not as hard as it looks.”
“I didn’t know earth ponies were capable of magic.”
“You would be surprised.” Dash chuckled and set about unlocking her door, whilst Cogwheel waited on the edge of the cloud, looking down at the landscape below him. He was looking forward to beginning his study into these ponies, and now he had a place to work from, he was already starting to plan his next move. Dash called over to him and, without further hesitation, followed her into the cloud house.
“Now you gotta promise not to trash the place. I don’t clean up often, but when I do I want it to stay that way for as long as possible. And sometime you need to tell me why you’re hoarding gears. And one last thing, you have to show me what’s wrong with your eye, because I’m not very comfortable with you like that. It feels wrong.” Cogwheel nodded in response. Those were all fair enough requests, but he wasn’t going to tell her anything now. He would wait until he felt he could trust her.
“Very well. But you have to help me.”
“And how can I do that then?” Dash leaned against the wall as her saddlebags slid off her back and onto the floor.
“Well, I want to get to know this place better. If I ask a question, I would be grateful if you could attempt to answer it as best you can. Even if it is a chance.”
“A chance?”
“Is that not the right word for it? Please wait, let me think,” he wracked his memory for the correct word until he found what he was ultimately looking for. “Guess. Even if it is a guess. Sorry, I mix those up a lot.” Dash chuckled softly under her breath, coming to stand by his side whilst he awkwardly shifted the weight of his saddlebags off a particularly sore spot.
“Let me show you where you’re going to stay.”