Cape and Cowl II: Puppetmaster

by Artimae


Prologue

1

January 5th, 1008,

I’m not sure how much of a dent I’ve even made in the Red Hoof’s empire. For months, I’ve been relentlessly hounding his operations, as the mayor secretly requested of me.

But the Red Hoof has yet to strike back. And that makes me very nervous.

From all I know, he’s a very proud stallion. He wouldn’t let these attacks go unchecked. So, what gives? The Guards all say that he’s afraid of me. Could I possibly let myself hope that it’s true?

After all I’ve been through, so far, I’m too cynical to think I’m winning this war of attrition. On the contrary, it feels like I’ve been pushing a boulder uphill ever since I’ve ‘officially’ become the Mare do Well.

Sometimes I wish I could just throw this suit in the garbage and be done with it. And other times… when I see the way Manehattan’s citizens look at me… I feel like it’s all worth it.

The sad truth is, I wouldn’t be happy either way. I couldn’t live with myself if another filly lost her family because I decided to be selfish and quit. But as it is now, I’m running in circles while stopping every now and again to bash my head against the wall.

But how I want the Red Hoof to make his move already! It’s much like that stupid game my Master taught me - Chess. He enjoyed that game. I despised it.

And here I am playing it.

I guess we wait and see how the pieces fall.

Speaking of seeing… I’ve still not been able to locate Primrose. It’s not likely she left the city, since Bolt Buck is still here. He and I… we’ve come to some sort of understanding. A part of me will always hate him, but after all he’s done for me, and for himself, I can’t just throw him under the carriage.

He explained everything in great detail after Bloodshot was dead. I listened. It was painful, but by the Goddess I listened.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t seen Prim either. Nor has her family.

On the bright side, my voice is back. I’ve impressed the doctor with the progress I’m making with my speech, though sometimes I still have to think about words before I say them.

It’s better than nothing, at least.

-Snow Storm


2

The cold, crisp winter air bit at Snow Storm as she galloped across a series of snow-covered rooftops. The worn Mare do Well suit she clad herself in offered little protection from the elements anymore. All around her costume were off-color spots where Annabelle Orange had patched up holes as best she could, but Snow Storm could feel the cold on her skin where new tears had opened up.

It was another grey day in an endless winter of grey days, and miniscule clumps of snow seemed not to fall but to flutter listlessly to wherever they happened to land. Snow Storm’s feet were numb; the insides of her boots had gotten snow in them, wetting her hooves and freezing them. What once had been foam-padding that felt like walking on clouds was now an uncomfortable lump from extreme overuse. The soles of her boots offered no traction, and more often than not she had missed a footfall and nearly fell down.

Ahead of her, a pegasus filly with a gaudy, oversized hat stolen from the Mare do Well flew on, safe from any possibility of misstepping. She was giggling as she flew, as though being chased by the Mare do Well was nothing more than a game.

And to her, that’s all it was.

The Mare do Well was about to pounce upon her little thief when she saw she was out of buildings to run on. Ah, crap, she thought, trying to stop on the slippery roof. Her rear leg slipped out from under her. She fell on her haunches, skidding into the rooftop’s lip and smacking hard into it with her side. A wheezy grunt escaped through her mask, and she pulled herself up. The filly was hovering just out reach, grinning at the Mare do Well from ear-to-ear in joyful bliss.

“Nya nya, can’t catch me! What’s the matter, is the big bad Mare do Well afraid of a little jump?” The little pegasus taunted her foe from just inches out of reach. “You took down Bloodshot, but a little filly’s too much for you to handle? Bahahahaha!” She clutched her stomach as she doubled over in laughter, still floating in midair. It was a sight as strange as it was frustrating.

She then slapped the Mare do Well’s hat on her own head. It completely swallowed up her smaller head. She tipped it back in order to see again, raised her forehooves up to the sides of her face and waved them while blowing a raspberry.

“Not so cool without your hat, are ya?” the filly teased. Never before had Snow Storm wanted wings more. That, or a long fly swatter to teach this brat some manners.

And of course it had to be a filly today. Were it an adult, she’d try for the jump anyway, but a kid? She could potentially hurt the kid. And over what? Some obviously fake jewellery? The hat was a more personal blow, but there was nothing she could do now. The filly took off, still giggling at her victory.

Too bad none of the pegasus guards are around. Snow Storm glanced around to confirm this thought. This section of the city was a low-priority area, meaning both shifts of the Guard gave it little more than a cursory acknowledgement. They were too busy elsewhere, patrolling the slums and deep downtown - this hoity-toity area with minor misdemeanors was hardly worth their attention, though the citizens would probably argue otherwise.

Snow Storm grunted, trotting down a fire-escape and onto the streets below. Now that the chase was over, she began to shiver from the cold winter’s air. While still in the alleyway, she slipped off the soggy Mare do Well boots before her hooves could get frostbitten. She grumbled to herself, walking out onto the cold, cold sidewalk and towards home.


3

“Oh, dear, come with me! Quickly!” Mrs. Orange practically dragged her daughter across the house as Snow Storm entered. “We need to get you near the fireplace before you come down with a cold! Mosley!? Warm towel! Ugh, where ever is that stallion? In his study, I’ll bet! Can’t hear a word I say!”

“But mom, I am fine,” Snow Storm said, though she offered no resistance. When Mrs. Orange wanted her way, she usually got it. Besides, stretching out in front of the fireplace sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world. She might even have herself a little nap. But first…

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Snow Storm knew it made Mrs. Orange’s heart leap just to be called that. Or to be called anything by her adopted child. They reached the fireplace, and Snow Storm plopped down in front of the crackling fire, raising her hooves up to it first and foremost.

“...” She rolled her eyes upward, practicing the sentence in her mind several times before attempting it with her still-learning tongue. Even with the rehearsal, there were stutters. She wished she could attribute them to being cold. “What… is the name of the town where your niece lives?”

Annabelle Orange draped a blanket over her daughter, and slid a pillow under her head. “You mean, Ponyville?”

“Yes. Yes! Ponyvale! I… need to go there.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Orange gave Snow Storm a bemused smile. The last time Snow Storm had been there was just after her brother had been lost. “What ever for, dear?”

Now Snow Storm sat up, turning to face her adopted mother. “Because... I need the suit to be remade completely. It’s falling apart.”

Mrs. Orange frowned - not because her own repairs to the Mare do Well suit had been called into question, but because she wanted nothing more than for Snow Storm to be rid of that thing forever - not that she’d ever say so out loud.

“Well, alright. Get some rest and pack your things tonight. The train for Ponyville leaves early in the morning.”


4

Snow Storm lagged behind the Oranges on their way to the station. In truth, the mare wanted- no, needed to take a very certain shortcut. She stopped at the corner of an intersection, despite the signal across the street showing ‘walk’. The streets were alive and bustling, but Snow Storm felt alone as she stared down the old, familiar lane.

She’d been down that street several times, actually. But always had it been as the Mare do Well - never as herself. Not since Frost Storm…

Across the street, deciding to take the long way to the train station, the Oranges stopped and looked back. Mr. Orange was about to call for his adopted daughter and inform her that time was running short, but a hoof on his shoulder stopped him. Mrs. Orange only shook her head and continued on. Mosley looked at Snow Storm a moment longer, and turned to follow his wife.

Taking a deep breath, Snow Storm reached one foreleg onto the beginning of that fateful street. Her heart raced. A band wrapped itself around her gut and squeezed. The world spun for a moment, and she felt on the brink of nausea.

Worst of all, she could see the phantom images of the night so long ago, as though the events were permanently being replayed. She told herself that the sidewalks were brimming with ponies who gave this particular stretch of Manehattan no more thought than it deserved, but it was hardly comforting.

She could almost see the filly that was her galloping away from the scene, and she closed her eyes, trying to force the specters away. She squeezed her eyes tighter and tighter as voices echoed in her head, lively enough that she could’ve sworn somepony was talking directly into her ear.

“Yer on our turf now, kids! We don’t like that, do we boys!?”

Laughter. Horrible, cold laughter.

“Leave us alone or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what, buddy!?”

“Frosty, I’m scared!”

“Aw, you hear that, boys? She’s scared. The wittle fiwwy is aww afwaid.” That one was Rough Houser. Ironically, the only one she didn’t attack. “Maybe you oughta give her a hug, Bloodshot!”

“You leave her alone!” There was a smack. The biggest one wiped his chin, and then growled. He was growling, like an animal. Then there was a louder smack, more like a hard crunch. The biggest one had thrown his forehoof into Frost Storm’s face. Frosty had told her to run at that point.

And she did.

“No!” the older version of Snow Storm said aloud, causing a few ponies to glance her way. “I… am over this!” She gazed sternly down the wide street, keeping her eyes straight and forward as she began her march, forcing the echoes from her mind. The surging crowd gave her no more that a cursory glance now - they were used to ponies talking to themselves, apparently. “I took care of this. I’m done with it.”

And as she made it to the end of the block, she truly felt like she was finally done with it. The band around her gut loosened, and then disappeared completely. She turned around and looked back, overcome with a strange and childish desire to just gallop up and down the sidewalk until she was out of breath.

She giggled and, not knowing she was going to do it, saluted the street before turning back towards the direction of the train station.

To which she did gallop. Giggling the whole way.

* * *

“First train to Ponyville, boarding now!” the conductor yelled at the head of the station. Snow Storm jumped to life, having fallen asleep next to her parents. These days her erratic lifestyle had made her accustomed to sleeping whenever and wherever she could, and it was a very useful trait to have developed. Mr. Orange, as busy as he was, had made sure to put aside his work to see her off.

“You’ll take care in Ponyville, won’t you dear? They’re much friendlier over there, I’m sure you will be fine, but even so please use caution when speaking with others. Oh, and if Applejack offers you any apple related treats to bring back, accept them, would you dear?” he reminded her for the umpteenth time. Snow watched the smile on his face and reminded herself to bring some back either way - Sweet Apple Acres produced the only apples he truly loved.

Mrs. Orange, however, had other things troubling her mind. “I’m quite worried about Primrose. Even if she felt she couldn’t handle what happened anymore, I was certain she’d at least see you off at the train station. She was never the sort to let her grief consume everything she held dear… and you are certain she wasn’t involved with those gangs in any way, my dear?” she asked Snow Storm, deeply concerned.

Snow Storm offered her classic shrug as a response. “Maybe she was just oh-ver-whelmed?” She broke up the last word, carefully and slowly enunciating each syllable.

“You are probably right, my dear,” Mrs. Orange said fondly before handing her a present, “this is a little something for the journey. It gets dreadfully cold in Ponyville during the winter months, so I knitted you a scarf. I only apologize that it’s not purple” The mare dropped her daughter a wink.

Snow Storm tied it around her neck with a ‘thanks’. The cherry-red fabric clashed against the outfit she wore today, but at least she couldn’t be missed in a crowd.

“Dear, I hope you enjoy yourself in Ponyville, but I do wish you would tell me why you want to go there so badly,” Mr. Orange said, a little disappointed that she had let Mrs. Orange in on whatever her reasons were, but not himself.

“It’s personal, love,” Mrs Orange replied, shooting him the sort of glance that always made him stop asking questions. “And besides, I’m sure after all that has happened she is more than deserving of a break, no? Her friend has disappeared, there was a vicious criminal running wild on our streets…”

“Oh, of course.” He nodded, deciding not to pursue the question any further. Mares. “And if you could be so kind, do try to sell some of our product… What?” Annabelle Orange was giving her husband a dirty look.

“Really, she does not need to sell our citrus while on vacation!”

“But I-”

The train’s whistle caught Snow Storm’s attention, and she turned, trotting towards it. As she did so, she heard the voice of her brother in her head.

Make sure you tell them you love them before you go, Sis.

For some reason, his voice felt like a bad omen for once.

* * *

Abacus lowered the book she’d been reading just enough for her emerald-green eyes to peer over its top. The time had come--finally--to make their move, and she was itching to get the ball rolling.

That little brat in her fruity costume had been making a mockery of the Red Hoof’s operations for months, now. Worse, she’d given the Guard some confidence! They’d begun to turn on their backs on him!

Still, it was about damned time as far as she was concerned. The Red Hoof had allowed the Mare do Well, without retaliation, to do as she pleased. And what she pleased was to make a large dent in his beautiful empire.

“Patience, my dear,” he would often say as he nursed that seemingly perpetual glass of brandy. “We may still hold the advantage, but we have only one shot at this. It must count.”

She didn’t dare tell him the things she heard deep in the underbelly of the city. Several of the bigger gangs had begun to believe the Red Hoof was losing his touch. Worse, that he was afraid. That he was just rolling over while some costumed kook took him down piece by piece.

And if she wouldn’t tell him such things, she definitely wouldn’t mention that the seeds of doubt had been sown into her own mind. She often thought she could hear an undertone of fear whenever he spoke now. If she was just a minor lackey, she could bail like the rest of them had begun to do, like a bucket which has sprung a minor leak. But she was in too deep to leave - at her betrayal, he would retaliate. And swiftly.

She may not have to worry about such things, after all. It was a lovely coincidence that she’d been at the station, overseeing a more legitimate cargo unloading when she’d spotted Snow Storm. Abacus’ heart skipped a beat as she saw the insufferable mare board the train to Ponyville.

Whatever business the Mare do Well had in such a worthless little village, Abacus couldn’t fathom. But it was the opening that the Red Hoof had been waiting for. She was sure of it.

A plan immediately formed in her mind. She oversaw the rest of her own operation while waiting impatiently for the train to depart. As soon as it was gone, Abacus sauntered over to the Oranges with an innocent, helpless-looking smile, the book tucked under her wing. She'd remind herself to finish it later - Daring Do was always a good read. A pair of station guards took up her flank.
Game time, she thought.


5

“Hey there, Snow Storm, welcome to Ponyville!” A warm voice with a rich country twang could be heard from the platform as soon as she stepped off the train. She looked around the crowd for the hat that she had always used to identify the mare, only to jump slightly she she saw she was right behind her as she turned around.

“Gotcha!” Applejack chuckled. “Still not got the hang of hide and seek, huh? It’s good to see you again, kid!” she said, hugging Snow Storm with surprising strength.

“Er… It’s nice to see you, too?”

“You don’t remember me, do ya? The last time I saw you-” she paused, her smile falling from her face as her eyes became sad.

“- er, sorry,” Applejack said quickly. “It’s been a long time, that’s all Anyway,” she chirped up, trying to lighten the mood, “why’d you decide to drop by, darlin’?”

“To be truthful, this isn’t a…” She paused for a moment, thinking of the right words. “Pleasure visit. I need something.”

Applejack nodded. “If it’s about what I think it is, we might need ta’ go elsewhere. Walk with me, will ya please?” she requested, walking away from the station.

“I heard about what you’ve been up to with that suit of yours,” she whispered to the mare as they walked, far from the ears of the ponies at the station. “It was all over the papers. Never thought you’d actually use it, to be honest. You’re as brave as your folks, that’s for sure.”

“You know more than I’m comfortable with,” Snow Storm remarked dryly, shooting a sly glare to Applejack.

“Kid, I was the one who gave ya that suit, remember?” Applejack shot Snow Storm a slight grin. “Anywho, you still haven’t given me the specifics. To what do I owe the pleasure of yer visit?” she said, mock-curtsying in a teasing fashion.

Snow Storm glanced around, but the two mares were alone on the frozen stretch of road leading up to Sweet Apple Acres. Near them was a ramshackle house which Applejack swore she’d get around to tearing down someday, but simply kept forgetting about it in her busy life.

“I need you to repair the suit.”

At this, Applejack burst into loud laughter for several awkward minutes before finally regaining her composure.

Me? I’m sorry, Snowy, but ain’t a snowflake’s chance in Tartarus I can fix that thing. Lucky fer you the mare that made it lives nearby, and is one of my best friends. She’ll patch it up for ya, no problem. Wanna go there now?” she asked Snow Storm.

“Oh,” was all Snow Storm could say at first. More ponies means more of a chance to be compromised. “Can this…” What was the word? She searched her brain, like a businessmare flipping through a hundred filing cabinets. “Seamstress! Can this seamstress be trusted?”

“I swear on my orchard, she won’t tell a soul,” Applejack raised a hood to her heart, her expression completely serious for a moment.

Snow Storm frowned, but it was the best she was going to get. And sometimes, chances had to be taken. “If you say so.”

* * *

The bell jingled as the door struck it, and from the depths of the Carousel Boutique, Rarity automatically recited the old greeting she herself had written in a moment of pure genius.

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique, and magnifi-” She cut her own words off with a sharp, dramatic gasp as she saw her two latest customers: one being Applejack, and the other a walking abomination of fashion if ever there was one.

She seemed not to run, but to practically teleport in front of Snow Storm, grabbing the scarf which Mrs. Orange had knitted and untangling it from the neck of the stranger. “Oh, no no no no! This simply will not do! How could anypony think to give you such a garish thing with your color scheme, dear!? I mean, red on a white coat and blue mane!? Whomever sold you this needs to be banished from Equestria for their taste in fashion, or lack thereof!”

In a flash, Snow Storm grabbed the scarf, her eye twitching. “I don’t care what color it is, it is very dear to me. Don’t ever insult it again,” she said angrily.

“Oh, of course… eheheh…” Rarity shrunk back at the outburst. “Sentiment over fashion anyday! But fear not, I know exactly why you’re here!”

Applejack whispered, “It’s from her Mom, I recognize that knittin’ anywhere. Try not to take it too personal.”

“Yes, of course,” Rarity replied, not even bothering with whispering. Her confidence seemed to have magically reappeared. “I understand completely now. Why, my own younger sister knitted me this woolen stocking cap and… while it’s… alright…” She grimaced as she said that word, as though she were biting down on something sour. “It’s still from family and I will cherish it! But enough, there is business to conduct, and I know why you’re here!” Several small objects including a brush and an uncoiled measuring tape floated over to Snow Storm. The tape wrapped itself tightly around her waist, and the brush set about stroking her messy, knotted mane.

“Clearly you are here to purchase something from my new Winter lineup! Fashionable and functional! I swear on Princess Celestia herself that you will look your absolute best while staying comfortably warm!”

Snow Storm shook her head slowly, producing the tattered and well-worn remnants of her Mare do Well suit and placing them on the table. “I need this fixed. And made better.”

Rarity forced herself to look away from the tattered thing - it was causing an ache in her heart, almost as bad as if one of her actual friends were in a similar situation. Instead she leveled her gaze at Snow Storm, her eyes burning intensely. “You do realize this suit was never meant to be used for practical work? It’s merely a showpiece. And what happened to the hat!? It was the centerpiece of the entire outfit!”

“Yes, I know,” Snow Storm said frankly. “I want you to... make it useful.”

“Very well,” Rarity said. In truth, she was excited at the prospect of revisiting this old costume, and even enhancing it. It would be a new challenge. “Give me a list of what you need, and I shall see if they are possible.”

Snow Storm produced a piece of rolled parchment from her bag and gave it to the seamstress.. It was a pre-written list of enhancements.

Rarity poured over the requests, her eyes shooting back and forth rapidly as she scanned the list several times over. “Well… such things can be done, but…” She took a glance down at the tatters. The prospect of repairing it made the heartache a little easier to bear, but just a little. “It will be difficult, you know-”

“Oh,” Snow Storm replied at once, reaching forward to get her patchy suit. “I understand. It is... too much for you.” She had to stifle a wicked grin as Rarity shot her hoof out, clamping down on Snow Storm’s own. The proud ones were always so easy to get at.

“Now you wait just a minute!” Rarity snapped. Snow Storm liked the fire she was seeing behind the eyes of the seamstress. “I would not be able to sleep at night knowing one of my pieces is in such shape! And I said difficult, not impossible! But I will require gems. Many of them. And I just ran out yesterday!”

Snow Storm blinked. “Gems? You don’t take bits?” She hadn’t prepared for that sort of contingency. The shops in Manehattan which took gems instead of bits were few and far between, mostly owned by the extremely rare straight-and-narrow Diamond Dog. But if it had to be done, then it had to be-

“Oh, I would never dream of charging you for this! The gems are foci for some of these enhancements you desire.”

“Oh. Alright. Where’s the jewellery store located? Price is no problem.”

Rarity cast a sideways, slightly amused glance at Applejack. “You’re not from around here, are you deary?” she asked of Snow Storm, whom herself looked slightly puzzled.

“Kiddo, this is the country,” Applejack said, shooting her own worried look first at Rarity, then to Snow Storm. “This ain’t like Manehattan where you can just buy ‘em up. Naw, you gotta dig for ‘em out here. And that means dealing with Diamond Dogs. They might be a bit slow nowadays thanks to the winter, but we’ll hafta be careful and-”

“‘We’?” Snow Storm asked, putting on a half-smirk. “There’s no need for a ‘we’. I’ll take care of them myself.”

Applejack balked, and Rarity grimaced. “Dearie, I really think it would be wise to bring Applejack along. Or even Rainbow Dash! She’s always up for a bit of excitement.”

“No!” said Snow Storm, losing her good humor rather quickly. Of course, these simple rural ponies were just trying to help, but she couldn’t be worrying about them every second. “I can deal with a few mutts. I am the Mare d-do Well, remember?”

Rarity huffed - this one was every bit as headstrong as Applejack was. What was it with Earth Ponies and their egos? Applejack only smirked, for she’d known a thing or two about willful (or stubborn, depending on your point of view) pride.

“Very well,” Rarity said, finally conceding. “But I do have one thing to give you.” A miniature horseshoe with the solid end connected to a fine silver chain floated over towards the trio and slid itself over Snow Storm’s head. She held the horseshoe part in one hoof and looked down at it, eyebrow cocked.

“It’s a Gem Finder,” Rarity explained, looking rather pleased with herself. “You see, I can naturally find gems in the ground, but if I need an Earth Pony like Applejack here to go in my stead-”

Applejack mumbled something unpleasant about the last time she’d done Rarity such a favor.

“-then this helps locate them, much like a magnet! It’s really one of my more genius creations. I’ve been thinking of making more, you know. Imagine the bits I could make on such a thing! Why, the mining companies from all over Equestria would come and-” She saw the look on their faces, and awkwardly chuckled. “Yes, well, at any rate. Speak a phrase to it--‘locate gems’--and it comes to life. Say ‘no more gems’ and it just becomes a very fashionable necklace!”

Snow Storm stuffed the list of required gems Rarity had given her into a saddlebag. “Good. I’ll be back soon.” She turned, walking to the door. Outside the window, a light snowfall had started. If she was lucky, it’d only be a dusting. “Oh, and don’t worry about making a new hat,” she called back as she walked out of the Boutique. “Trust me, I’ll get it back very soon.”


6

She was not lucky, as it turned out.

Snow Storm squinted against the miniature blizzard that the weather pegasi had been building all morning. Her face was getting close to numb, and her nose was sore from her constantly wiping it with the rough sleeve of her thick coat.

The road to the Diamond Dog’s gem mines was caked with frost, which sparkled beautifully whenever the few rays of winter sunlight peeked from behind the otherwise pale white sky above. Snow Storm chuckled at the irony of the fact that, despite her name, she really didn’t particularly care for snow at all. It didn’t help that the stuff brought back memories of snowball fights with her brother, either…

* * *

He flopped dramatically into the snowbank, flailing his hooves with exaggeration as the last snowball hit his covered face. “Ya got me!” Frost Storm said, laying back and lolling his tongue out. Snow Storm started giggling, and before he could help it, Frost Storm started giggling too.

“You think mom made some hot cocoa!?” Snow Storm asked, hopping up and down excitedly for the prospect of hot cocoa.

“I sure hope so,” her big brother replied. He smiled and ruffled the top of her head, messing up the little fuzzy cap she was wearing. “But if not, I’ll just have to make you some-”

* * *

Angry voices came on the wind, cutting off Snow Storm’s memory. Her ears twitched upon hearing the whiny cries of Diamond Dogs on the wind. Sounds like they’ve got their own problems. But they would hardly ignore one lone pony - they always needed muscle to pull their carts. They’d be in for one hay of a surprise if they tried to attack her, though. There was nothing for her to do, she decided, but to continue forward. Knew I should've worn the white coat, she thought. The brown, fluffy thing she wore now stuck out far too much in the glistening white, rocky lands. The coat limited her movement, but not too badly. She could still take most of them without much trouble-

Her left ear twitched back just a moment before a stray, lanky mutt pounced, wrapping his ‘arms’ around her neck in an attempt to tackle her. She bucked, throwing him off into a snowbank. He stood up, shaking his body and lunged again, snarling. She ducked under his pounce, bringing the top of her head up into the Dog’s jaw.

Snow Storm grabbed one of his arms and tumbled him over, using her bodyweight to send him crashing to the ground, the snow mercifully softening the impact.

They’re close… how am I supposed to get one to dig for me? she wondered. Now she counted four of them as she crested the hill onto a flat, rocky plateau - three adults and a pup. From the tone of their voices and the violent gestures, they were angry with the young one over... something. She couldn’t make out exactly what yet, but Snow Storm’s focus was turned to the cart which she could see near the pack. It was one of the ones used for gathering gems, and that meant…

"You’ll take that bloody thing to the ends of the earth if you have to, now get moving, and if it isn’t full when you get back they’ll be no supper waiting!" one of the older ones barked to the scruffy-looking pup. He seemed to offer no protest, instead walking with a slump.

She carefully slid into the cart without any of them noticing, at first panicking at the apparent lack of cover. All he has to do is peek in here and I’m exposed, she thought, figuratively kicking herself for not having entirely thought out this plan. It always works in the radio shows. Looking closer, she found a layer of hide which she slid under. As the cart began to move, half of her jokingly wondered which one of their pack she was hiding beneath.

The other half didn’t want to know.

* * *

Figaro’s belly rumbled loudly. He whined deep in the back of his throat, sniffling silently lest the others hear him. If he didn’t produce the gems, there’d be no supper. Not that he could remember the last time he’d had a supper, anyway.

He tugged at the cart, groaning at its weight. It felt heavier, but he attributed that to simply starving. “Stupid gems… just a bunch of fancy rocks…” the pup muttered aloud, slowly moving the cart to the mines. The place was all but invisible to the naked eye, but the pup’s keen sense of smell had led them to it easily. As he finally entered the place the mare froze, dreading the moment he would turn to the cart.

Can’t very well beat up a kid… if he just gives me the gems, then thing’s will go easily enough. But if he doesn’t?

Snow Storm shook her head. There would be time to worry about that later. For now, she was simply grateful to be out of the cold.

The inside of the mine was dry and dark, and seemed to stretch on forever. Snow Storm waited until the child’s footsteps were far away before leaping out, taking care not to bump into any of the walls as she slowly crept towards the sound of a claws frantically scratching away against the cave wall.

After almost an hour of watching the pup dig and dig, the cart was still nearly empty. Snow Storm grunted - her plan to let the Dog do all the work had apparently failed. Just a pup, she thought to herself, staring at him. He was beginning to cry. Maybe he's too young to hate. Maybe we can help each other out... Just as she gathered the resolve to go and confront him, praying he didn't yell out to his comrades outside, her rump knocked a stone loose from the wall and sent it crashing loudly to the ground. The noise caught Figaro’s attention.

“What? W-who’s there?” he whimpered, putting on a growl so pathetic it was almost adorable.

Trepidation seized Snow Storm. She hid in the shadow, pressing herself up against the wall as tightly as she could, her resolve lost. As long as he doesn’t smell horseflesh… She could only hope his senses weren’t that keen yet. At least I’m not sweating.

For a terrible moment the pup sniffed the air, looking around with concern, before grabbing the cart and pushing as fast as he could. The big Dogs had said these mines were haunted, but Figaro only thought they had been lying just to scare him.

It took him a few minutes to make his way to a new spot where he could dig, closer to the entrance now. She followed him, trying to stay silent. Around a curve, the cold air from the outside howled with an unearthly cry into the cave mouth, creating a frigid wind tunnel.

She peeked around the corner, frowning. So much for using the pup to dig for her. She’d just have to go at it for herself, she decided. The pup wouldn’t come much further back into the mine after his little scare, she silently hoped.

Before Snow Storm could move, however, the screeching voices of the adult dogs was carried in on the screaming wind. Apparently, the trio had grown tired of waiting. They rushed the cart, surrounding it and pushing the pup around. One large shove sent him sprawling to the hard stone ground. Two of the Dogs laughed and pointed while the largest thrust his fat snout into the still-empty minecart. Snow Storm watched as Figaro stood up and barked back pathetically, much to the contemptuous amusement of that particular pack’s Alpha.

“What’s this!?” the Alpha asked sardonically, pulling his face out of the cart. “Did I just hear the sound of a whiny little brat that didn’t find the alpha even one gem today?” He raised his large paw and smacked Figaro across the muzzle, sending the pup back to the ground.

Figaro let out a cry, rubbing his cheek. “I-I'm sorry...”

“Sorry doesn't keep us stocked!" one of the others snapped, taking his turn to slap Figaro to the ground while the third Dog laughed stupidly. "No food for a week! You're a waste of resources!”

“That’s not fair, you’re all a bunch of mangy bullies!”

Suddenly the laughter of the three turned to snarls, their eyes glowing yellow in the darkness of the cave.

“You called us mangy, boy? Let’s see how tough you are with one ear…” the Alpha snarled, slowly backing Figaro into a corner. He grabbed the pup by the neck, lifting the scrawny thing easily. Figaro flailed and gagged, clawing at the thick, hairy arm of his assailer. The two behind the Alpha resumed their malevolent guffawing at the expense of the pup.

Sis, they’re going to kill him! The voice of Snow Storm’s late brother piped up in her mind. She eyed the situation. Three big Dogs, and one scrawny one. She couldn't rule out the possibility that the pup would turn on her to gain favor - these creatures would do just about anything for themselves. What, afraid of a puppy now? She snorted - the voice had a point. Innocent was innocent until proven guilty, she decided. She slipped her fluffy coat off, ignoring the cold air biting at her, and tossed a rock at the head of the fattest mutt.

Besides, fighting was just plain fun.

Argh! Wossat?” The dull witted member of the three turned, looking for where the rock had come from, and spotted one of those insufferable equines. “A pony? Here? Get her!” he shouted, catching the attention of his pack. The Alpha stopped abusing Figaro long enough to watch as his subservient leaped forward to try and slice the pony with his claws.

She ducked beneath his sharp claws and sent a hoof straight into his gut. The second dived towards her, fangs ready to bite deep into her as she carefully dodged before throwing him to the floor, sending a hoof down on his face with a satisfying crunch.

The Alpha was close behind. He swiped at her face, raking his claws against her cheek. Her face felt hot, and she could feel the blood from the newly-formed cut run down her cheek. She wiped it with her foreleg, scowling at the crimson smear on her otherwise immaculate coat of white hair. The Dog howled a bestial yell of apparent triumph, charging her again. This time she spun around, sending both of her impressive rear legs straight into his jaw. The Dog yelped and bowled over backwards. A sickening crunch came as the back of his head collided with the stone wall of the cave.

The pup whimpered, curled up tight in the corner of the cave. After a few minutes he realized he was out of danger, and turned to look at his hero.

“Er… thanks…” he managed quietly, before turning to the cart. She watched him, ignoring the cold wind for now. Her blood was still up, her heart racing, and that would keep her warm for the time being.

If he tries to howl for help, tackle him, she thought coldly. It wouldn’t do to take unnecessary risks, even with a little Dog like the one before her. Speaking of unnecessary risks… She walked over to the others who had just attacked her, stepping carefully to keep the pup in her line of sight. The first two were knocked out cold, and would be for a decently long time. The last one, whom she believed was their Alpha, however...

She felt no pulse from the neck of that one. A small feeling of regret stole in the back of her mind, but she shook it away, telling herself it was just a freak accident...

Still, she’d have to remember to tone down her kicks in the future. She didn’t particularly want to make this sort of scenario a habit, especially against her own kind back home.

The only exception might’ve been Bloodshot.

In her silent musings, she hadn’t noticed as Figaro came back up to her, looking up at her with some mixture of apprehension and adoration.

“T-thank you,” he managed so quietly she almost wondered if she had imagined it. Though he was a Diamond Dog, she found him almost adorable, in a scruffy sort of way.

“What are you doing here? Ponies never come our way, it isn’t safe…"

Her eyes shifted from the cave mouth to the pup and back. “Are there others?” she asked, wearing a tight frown that seemed to frighten the pup. Loosen up, he’s no threat.

“Yes, but not nearby. Are they okay?” he said, pointing to the three.

“They’ll be fine,” she half-lied, not looking him in the eyes. Two of them would be, anyways.

“Here… it’s not much, but you sound cold, and I owe you. They’d have killed me if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said, removing his jacket and handing it to her. It was comically undersized, much like he was himself.

“You’re here for gems, right? Well, I couldn’t find any in there, so unless you’ve got some way to find them I’m afraid you’re in for a disappointment,” he said, pointing to the empty cart.

She ignored his offer of the jacket, instead walking back into the depths of the mine where her own lay. She could hear his whining with every step she took, as though he were afraid of any further than where light could reach.

“The mines, we Diamond Dogs made them, they run for miles… if you see some skeletons… well, a lot of my kind have died down here, and some of yours, too…” he gulped, trying to stay close to her.

“Bones don’t scare me,” she said dryly, slipping on her coat again and pulling out the necklace Rarity had given her. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have this last year…” she muttered before raising it to her lips and speaking the phrase Rarity had told her. Immediately the necklace thrummed to life, pointing itself straight out towards the pitch-black shaft. It’d be a nice time to be a unicorn, the mare thought dryly. Of course she’d forgotten to bring some sort of light source.

“Do you need a torch? I can go get one, we keep our stuff near the cave’s entrance. You should be fine for a few minutes, unless you’re afraid of the dark.”

Her ears twitched and she stopped, turning her head around to face the pup. “And as soon as you’re clear, you run to tell the rest of your pack about me?” she half-asked, half-accused.

“No! You can come along if you like. Just follow me, it won’t be long.”

Figaro led them to the entrance, a sack full of supplies leaning by the cave’s mouth. “Right, we’ll need a torch, and… anything else, while we’re here?”

She couldn’t think of anything else, and said so. As they started back in, Figaro hesitated at the cave’s mouth, whining slightly and wringing his wrists. Annoyance flashed up in Snow Storm’s mind, but she quelled it. The situation was awkward enough without her making it worse. “You’re afraid to go back in?” she asked, trying to sound kind and gentle.

“Those caverns are haunted… can you manage it without me? It’s scary enough going in with the others, but I’m afraid something will grab me in there…”

Snow Storm gave an exasperated sigh. She had the necessary excavation tools, of course, but a Diamond Dog’s paws could dig faster than her and her pickaxe any day of the week. With the added benefit of not accidentally shattering any of the gems she needed. “Will you come with if I promise to keep you safe?”

“I’ll come with you, but under one condition… when this is over, please, please take me with you. These guys’ll kill me when they wake up… I can’t live here anymore. They beat me, I haven’t eaten in days, and they treat me like a slave, so please…”

“I’ll take you as far as Ponyvale. Is that good enough?”

“I, erm… but what’ll I do? Can you at least help me find somewhere to live before you go?”

“Miss Applejack is kind. She will help” Snow Storm smiled to herself, both at the thought of Applejack and at her own little brand of trickery. As they talked, she had begun walking, with the pup following closely. It was a long moment before he realized how far he’d gotten into the cave. “But… I’ll do what I possibly can, seeing as how far you’ve gotten already.”

The torch shined brightly in the darkness, flickering softly in the distance as she walked. After a moment, she felt a tap on her shoulder, but turned, ready for a fight, but seeing only darkness.

“What are you waiting for? There are rubies in these walls!” the pup said excitedly, apparently years of having dug for the things having somehow not yet quenched his enjoyment of discovering a fresh vein of the minerals.

“Can you smell the different sorts of gems?” she asked, only now becoming aware that her necklace didn’t locate anything specific. She’d have to remind Rarity to fix that.

“Yeah, what do you need? There are rubies here, and… I think sapphires maybe somewhere nearby.”

“Here,” she said, reaching into her left saddlebag and pulling out the list of necessary gems. She handed it over to Figaro, who seemed almost eager to have some sort of job that wouldn’t result in a beating this time. Figaro began his work in an instant, tearing through the solid rock walls with frightening speed for a creature of his size, before placing a large pawful of glittering rubies in the cart.

“Right… sapphires next? You lead the way.”

* * *

After a few hours’ work, Snow Storm breached the cave entrance for the last time with her bags full and an exhausted Diamond Pup sleeping on her back. The Dogs she had fought off were gone, presumably having woken up and taken their fallen brother with them.

She marched on as the winds kicked up higher, keeping Figaro covered and warm as she walked back to Rarity’s.


7

The door to the Carousel Boutique opened, sending a waft of cold air through. Snow Storm shut the door against the wind and let out a relieved breath.

Figaro slid off of her back, huddling up to himself inside the large, fluffy coat to try and warm up. His snout was raw and runny, and the exposed parts of his face had been frosted. He cast his eyes downward, feeling a little guilty about the mare who had given up her warmth so he could have it. Her everything had been caked with a layer of snow. He didn’t know that she had bit down--hard--on her cheek to keep her teeth from chattering. She had lost feeling in her limbs half an hour ago, and she had begun to sneeze consistently.

Hope this place has some fire, Snow Storm thought to herself. I could use it.

“So, my dear, I take it you found the- oh good heavens!” Rarity shrieked, staring that the Diamond Dog pup sitting on the floor. “Get that… that filthy little beast out of my boutique at once!”

Snow Storm merely stared at Rarity, cocking her eyebrow.

“I don’t know what possessed you to bring one of those… disgusting creatures back here, but if you want me to make the suit I insist you take him outside first!” she said, turning her nose up and turning her back to the pair indignantly.

“Aw, c’mon, Rarity,” said Applejack as she trotted up to the pup before Snow Storm could even respond. “He’s sorta cute.”

“He is a nasty, scruffy monster, and I will not stand by as he coats the entirety of my store with his fleas!” she spat bitterly. “Have you forgotten that I was captured by these ugly brutes once, Applejack?”

Snow Storm’s eye twitched, and in a flash she had Rarity pinned against the wall, speaking slowly through gritted teeth. “Look, lady,” she snarled, “I suffered to get your precious rocks. I took claws t-to the face to fill your stupid shopping order.” She let Rarity go and backed away a bit, but still very much in reach. “Fix my suit,” she demanded coldly, with an underlying hint of ‘or else’.

Rarity flailed her hooves in a mini-tantrum, sighing. “Fine. But listen well… my suits are my children. If you hurt them, you hurt me. And I hurt you,” she said in a most unladylike tone. The sudden attempt at being threatening was almost amusing to Snow Storm.

“Wait for a day. I’ll be up all night on this… find somewhere for that… child… to sleep,” Rarity said, getting out her sewing machine and taking the gems.

* * *

“Er, Snowy? Rarity says she’s done,” Applejack said as the mare sat, slumped over in a chair in the corner of the room, the sun’s early ray’s peeking through the window. “She says you are gonna love what she’s done with it. Looks better than new!”

Snow Storm snorted and flailed her hooves as Applejack shook her awake. “Huh?” she mumbled sleepily, blinking her eyes open. “Wha…?” It took her a moment to remember where she was: Ponyvale. Ville, she told herself. Ponyville. Not vale. Curled up by the now-dead fireplace was a lump of fur and cloth that could only have been Figaro. So far, Snow Storm’s fear of retaliation from the Diamond Dogs onto the town hadn’t come to pass. Maybe they didn’t even care.

But what about their dead? The other two would tell as many Dogs as they could that a pony had done it.

Just another rumor, another legend of the Mare do Well… well, without the suit, the voice in her head offered. But as she began to think of the new suit, everything else hardly mattered. She imagined all the new features, and for a terrible, hilarious instant she pictured a frilly, pink suit with a bow and sequins, of Rarity having used the gems she had worked so hard to gain to make it ‘fabulous’ instead.

She burst through the doors to Rarity’s workroom, desperate to see what the mare had done to her suit, noting that the seamstress was slumped over a number of fabrics, exhausted. After a few seconds, she pointed a hoof to the cupboard.

Snow Storm reached inside, pulling out… the exact costume she had a year ago. It looked hardly any different, except completely re-sewn. She was frowning when Rarity mumbled dreamily, “Put it on.”

She did so, instantly feeling a strange and not quite unpleasant sensation on her body, like thousands of little tendrils tickling her. “It feels tingly,” Snow Storm said after a moment.

“More insulated,” Rarity mumbled, “softer padding, try kicking the wall…” she offered, still half-asleep.

Before Snow Storm had the chance to, she noted something else strange. The suit wasn’t exactly skin-tight, but it was much closer to her body-type than it had been. Oh thank Epona, she thought with a little embarrassment. No more bunching up in… places.

“Warm in cold places… cold in warm… whatever…” Rarity muttered, “and sweat absorbent.”

“Fire, water, and magic-proof?” Snow Storm asked, stretching herself. This suit felt good. The tingling she felt must have been the magic coursing through the costume, like blood through veins.

“Fire and Waterproof, but magic resistant,” Rarity corrected her, finally pulling herself out of her stupor, “I am not a miracle worker, my dear. But as you requested, crossbow bolts will have a much harder time getting through the suit now. They’ll still pierce the fabric, but they shouldn’t make it to your skin.”

Pierce the fabric… Snow Storm could’ve kicked herself for her lack of complete foresight. “So... what good will I be when I have to keep returning here every other week for repairs?”

At this, Rarity grinned, taking a small knife and slicing the suit slightly, “Just watch. My greatest feature.”

After a few minutes, the tear seemed to stitch back together.

“It has its limits, but for casual wear and tear, the suit will restore itself. I had a friend enchant it,” she grinned, even more glad than usual to have an Alicorn for a friend.

Snow Storm blinked, conveniently ignoring the fact that Rarity had nearly nicked her foreleg with that knife. “I, ah… don’t suppose a seamstress puts self-repairing enchantments on all of her clothes… lest she find herself out of a job?”

“No, and Twilight said she didn’t want me to bother her again, especially at three in the morning… but this, this was a special project. I don’t mean to brag, but if you ever find a suit half as advanced as this one again, I will eat my hat. Are you happy with it?”

Snow Storm went to walk forward, and nearly tripped over herself. She looked, seeing that the cape had nearly doubled in length and width. Before, it had been barely a rag, almost an afterthought. Now it looked more like a ball-gown draping over her body. She would have to get used to walking with it, but the aesthetic pleased her. It would look like she was gliding over the ground.

“Ah! That reminds me… I assume you’ll be leaving immediately without taking time to test out the gliding ability of your new cape?”

“This glides?” Snow Storm shook herself for emphasis. The cape fluttered a moment and dropped back down around her fluidly. If it wasn't silk, it was close.

“Oh my yes, but you need to get some air under it first, otherwise it doesn’t quite kick in. If you need to leap from building to building it should manage it, but it’s designed so as not to slow you down when jumping on the ground.”

“Fair enough,” said Snow Storm, not entirely convinced. It would’ve been nearly impossible to get what she wanted without some sort of mechanism, anyway. “Many thanks,” she said, leaving the room to speak to Applejack.

Applejack grinned as Snow Storm walked into the over room, “Lookin’ fancy there, kid. Bet that thing’s all kinds of baggy, though. Was kinda worried she’d go for style over substance with it, if I’m honest.”

Snow Storm was feeling pretty good, she had to admit. But one look at the sleeping pup cast her right back in a dour mood. Without taking her eyes off him, she asked of Applejack, “Will you take care of him, or do I have to take him home with me?”

Applejack’s grin fell right off her face.

“You want me to what?” she blurted, mouth agape. “Listen, he’s a sweet little thing, sure, but I’m not ready to look after a young’un of my own… but I guess if I ain’t ready, you sure as hay ain’t ready either, huh?” she said, staring sadly at the snoring bundle by the fireplace.

“Ah heck, okay. But I can’t promise I won’t send him to the orphanage. And if he pees on the carpet he’s outta here,” she said, grinning, “I guess this is goodbye then, huh?”

“I cannot say when I’ll be back,” Snow Storm said as she slipped out of the suit and packed it away. “Manehattan is… bad. It’s only been a day, and I feel as if I’ve been gone too long.”

“Yeah, well of course you feel that way. When I leave Ponyville for a few days I always feel like it’s been forever when I get back, especially when I leave my friends behind. Oh, and I brought a few apple fritters for the journey, since I know how your dad loves ‘em.” She smiled, giving Snow Storm a box of the things.

“You take care out there, Snowy. And tell your folks I said hi!”

She nodded, her face set in a hard frown as her mind went back to Manehattan and the Red Hoof. But before she even walked out the door of the Boutique, she went over to Figaro and nudged him awake. “Hey. I’m leaving now,” she said softly. She promised herself she’d never again miss a chance to say goodbye to someone, even a kid like him.

“Goodbye,” he said, hugging her to her surprise. Even these dogs have sweet kids… she thought fondly as she walked out the door, eyes set on the train station in the distance.


8

Even before she arrived, there was an unease in her heart as Snow Storm stepped off the train. Her parents were supposed to be there, weren’t they? Even if Mr.Orange had been too busy, surely her mother would have shown up… instead, she saw Bolt Buck standing there, waiting for her.

“Hey, Snow Storm, you caught me just as I was about to leave,” he said with a sad smile, his bags by his side.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind screamed, ‘Good! Stay out of my sight for the rest of our lives!’, but she quelled and ignored it. “What’s the matter?” she asked instead, trying to catch his eye. Bolt Buck had been wanting to leave Manehattan for a good long time now, but he never did. She thought, with some conceit, it was because he’d been looking to ask her permission to leave.

“Snowy… I think you and I both know it ain’t right for me to stay. Not after… what I took from you,” he winced, even now the words as painful for him to say as they were for her to hear.

“I think maybe…, maybe if I leave, I can start again. And don’t worry, I swear I’m going straight. I’ll never hurt anyone, ever again. I was hoping you’d be okay with this… if you’d rather I stay somewhere you can keep an eye on me, that’s fine, but…” his voice trailed off as he stared into the distance for a moment.

“Well, can I go?” he asked, still seeming strangely absent, somehow.

“... No word on Primrose?”

Bolt Buck’s expression became frighteningly dark, cold and unfeeling at this.

“Yeah, I seen her, but she ain’t coming with me. She’s half the reason I wanna leave… Primrose is dead to me.”

A pair of station guards strode up to Bolt Buck with a glint in their eyes. “Sir, we have to check your bags. Come with us.”

“Sure… one last thing, Snowy,” he said as he walked off with them.

“When she tells you, don’t hit her too hard. That’s my last favor of you. Goodbye,” he said, walking off before she could even ask what he meant.

* * *

When she approached the manor, everything seemed fine. She knocked on the door, and nobody answered. That was fine, since she had her own key. She walked in, and it was silent. That too was fine.

Dad’s asleep in his study, and Mom’s at her book club. That’s all.

But when she checked the study, there wasn’t a trace of either of them. No note on the fridge, no cup of coffee left idly on the breakfast table, where her father would always leave it… no, it was still fine.

It had to be.

A small panic began to rise within her as she crossed the house, heading for Mosley Orange’s private study. Lacking the only key to the door, she peered inside, finding it as immaculate as ever. Maybe they went to breakfast? Of course. That could explain it, she thought as she began to trot around the manor now, peering inside rooms. They didn’t really know when to expect her back, did they? It could’ve been tomorrow, or the day after for all they knew. They were just out enjoying themselves. What a surprise it would be when they got home, seeing her back. Everypony would have a mug of cocoa, with just a hint of peppermint in it to make it perfect. Even a few of those tiny marshmallows.

It’d be all fine.

No Sis, something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut, can’t you? This isn’t fine at all…

And in that moment, the calm and composed mare suddenly fell into the sort of frantic, nightmarish panic that only somepony in her current position could feel. She searched every inch of the house, hoping and praying that it was all some cruel joke, that her parents were where they had always been. Her mother would be waiting by the front door with some words of wisdom for the day ahead, or that her father would be out in his favorite part of the groves, helping the workers pick the best oranges for his breakfast. But as she finally turned to the window, there was a heaviness in her heart, a deep, icy despair in the pit of her stomach.

And then she heard the laugh.

It was a cold, cruel laugh that seemed to fall upon her like icy, bitter rain. It floated mockingly from up the stairs, as a beautiful mare walked down, carrying a long leash behind her.

“Do you like the surprise party I’ve thrown for you, Snow Storm?"

A wicked grin spread on the pegasus' face. "Or should I call you… Mare do Well?”"