Tales From The West: Grit & Lead

by Docks


Chapter Four: Happy Trails

Chapter Four

The town of Free Water was slowly beginning to become engulfed by night as the last tendrils of the sun retreated from view. Upon noticing the gas lamps outside beginning to turn on, Ballad headed for the only window in his study and put down the window blinds and then returned to his seat.

The old stallion let loose a ragged yawn before stretching his hooves. “Hey, mind gettin’ the lights fer me Dusty?” Ballad’s grandfoal nodded his head and moved from his cushion and flicked the small knob next to the study’s door.

“Those buffalo were ruthless.” Dusty quietly declared as he returned to his seat. Ballad let out a faint sigh in response. “They had every right to be so youngin’. You see back in those days us ponies did some very nasty things to them buffalo. I remember back when I was still in grade school, Princess Celestia officially made amends with the buff-“ The old pony cut himself off as he noticed the annoyed expression that adorned his other grandfoal’s face.

“That's another story for a later time I think." The old sheriff interjected. "But it should do you some good to know yer history Sugar Sap.” Ballad grumbled as he made himself more comfortable.

“Don’t leave me hanging! What happened to Thistle?!” Sugar Sap exclaimed.

"Don't rush me, filly! You're gonna make me lose my place."

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The calm blue sky above belied the carnage that took place on the earth below. The caravan and the makeshift camp were left in ruins as the marauding buffaloes stripped everything of value and left the remains of their victims to bake under the hot afternoon sun.

A sand colored pony came out from its hiding spot amongst a rocky outcrop several meters away from the devastated camp. The pony slowly trotted through the destroyed camp and mentally counting up the bodies that were strewn across the ruined encampment.

"Looks like I'm the only one that made it out alive...” The pony dejectedly muttered to himself before picking up an abandoned saddlebag. The lone figure began to scavenge through the encampment, searching through the remains of the fallen and overturned crates.
The pony began to curse to himself as he made his way to the outskirts of the camp.

The stallion took a brief pause in front of an overturned barrel before buckling down onto his limbs. "Oh Celestia! At least give me something in return for makin' outta that ordeal alive!" The pony vented as he flung his hooves into the air. "Celestia damn buffalo! Aurghhhhhhhhhh!!!”

Satisfied with releasing his pent up frustration, the pony was about to make his leave of the camp until his eyes caught the glimpse of the sun's light reflecting off the body of a pony several feet away from him.

The stallion quickly trotted over to the limp body, pausing a few inches away from his quarry and began to examine the pony in front of him. The still body was laying on its side and a simple tan garment with a single red bar stripe running across it covered most of its torso. "A poncho? ...Horse feathers!"

The scavenging pony began to reflect upon the moral implications of looting the body of a pony that had inadvertently saved their life. After struggling with his conscious for a good minute; the pony said buck it and began to greedily search his savior’s body.

Celestia! My head is throbbing...What the hay happened?! Oh that's right. Well Thistle looks like you got yourself in one messy situation...Got yourself knocked out in the middle of the damned desert. Once I get up I won't even have a damned clue of where that town is. Huh--Oh great! After being laid out by some sucker buck to the head, now I got some Celestia damned vulture peckin' at my side...

"Grrrrr! Quit bein' so damned stubborn!" The scavenger cried as he struggled to extract the revolver that was holstered to the body's hind leg. The stallion continued to struggle with his prize blissfully unaware that the pony he was looting was very much alive and very upset at having their personal space be intruded upon.

What the...vultures don't talk! Celestia, there's already a pony scavenging through the camp and this bastard has the stones to try an' lift my gun without even checkin' if I'm alive! Alright, enough of this buckin' nonsense time to pony up and straighten this mess out!

The scavenger got up from his work and quickly wiped his head with a hoof. "What the hay! Did he glue his damned gun to his holster before kickin' the bucket?! Alright, let's give this one more shot." The pony bent down once more and placed his teeth onto the brown grip. The scavenging pony shifted his gaze from his current task and immediately noticed the pony’s entire body begin to slowly lurch upward.

“By the sun!" The tan pony gasped as he slowly backed away from the rising figure. Thistle let out a low moan as he struggled to get his dirt caked body back onto all fours. Seeing the body of the pony he previously thought was dead seemingly come back to life. The offending pony quickly bowed his entire body and leaped into a maddened prayer.

"Celestia forgive me! I know I shouldn't pilfer from the dead...I 'm a bad pony.” The stallion frantically cried. “I'll turn my life around, I’ll even join a covenant! Just let this vengeful spirit leave me be!" The pony finished before looking up to see if his hasty plea worked.

The risen figure shielded his eyes as his body began to adjust its vision to the sunlight flooding his visual senses. Tartarus. My body is achin' all over, now let's see what I’m dealin' with...Thistle quickly looked over his surroundings and finally noticed the terrified pony in front of him. What the hay is this pony doing. Hmmmm, he looks familiar...

Upon recognizing the pony Thistle attempted to greet Soft Touch with a simple hello. All that managed to come out of Thistle's parched mouth was a guttural groan.

"Celestia, Stay back! Stay back!" Soft Touch yelled as he saw the slumped figure extend a hoof towards him.

"Wat-er..."

Soft Touch blinked as he saw the dirty stallion pointing at the small silver coated canteen stripped to his waist. The stallion quickly unbuckled his entire belt and threw it at the pony's hooves. "Take it! Take everything! Just leave me alone, I beg of you!" Soft Touch cried as he backed further away.

Thistle gave the spooked pony an angry look before scooping the canteen up with a hoof and quickly downing its contents in several swigs. The dirty stallion wiped his lips with a hoof let out a satisfied sigh. "Aaaahhhh...I needed that." Thistle sighed as he flung the canteen and belt back to its owner.

Soft Touch bolted up and swfitly buckled his belt back on before shooting Thistle a bewildered look."You're alive? How!" Soft Touch exclaimed. Thistle took his poncho off and began beating it with a hoof.

The gunslinger let out a hoarse cough as he continued his work. "I don't feel like standing 'round here much longer, so let me tell ya the short hoofed version..." Thistle bitterly stated, before quickly glossing over his one-on-one duel with a buffalo and his eventful discussion with the buffalo chief.

"Amazin', I've heard tales from drunks tellin' the same story as you. Defeat a mighty buffalo infront of his kin and yer immediately given clemency by the buffalo's clan.” Soft Touch rambled as he inspected Thistle. “Personally, I thought it was just a buncha drunkards talkin' nonsense, but, actually seein' proof of it! It’s quite somethin’...” Thistle snorted in response as he placed his poncho back on. "Which way is Cross Roads from here?"

"Yer pretty damn blunt about things! Shoot, if I had done what you just told me I'd be gloatin' like a pony who just struck it rich by pannin' fer gold!" The gunslinger’s companion crowed. Thistle grinded his teeth as Soft Touch continued to drone on about his so called feat of strength. "Look, I'm losin' my patience havin' my ear talked off by a pony who tried to rob me whilst I was laid out. So y'all better get goin' with some directions before I lose it!" The stallion yelled before jabbing his hoof into Soft Touch’s body.

Soft Touch immediately retracted from the irate stallion and began to search the stark desert land for any sort of landmark amongst the barren landscape. "Uh...We're gonna be wantin' to head southwest." Soft Touch declared as he pointed a hoof towards the direction he stated. Thistle let out an irritated cough and gave the pony next to him an incredulous look. "What do you mean we?"

Soft Touch turned to face the annoyed pony and let out a sigh. "Look, I know I what I did was downright filthy, so let me make it up to ya by helpin' ya get to Cross Roads." The quick talking stallion answered as he offered hoof to Thistle. "So what do ya say?” Thistle eyed the repenting stallion; his eyes staring him down for a full minute before finally shaking his hoof.

Soft Touch let out a sigh of relief as he began to vigorously shake Thistle’s hoof. "For a minute there, thought you were gonna buck me with a hoof instead of shakin’ mah hoof!"

"I was considerin' it." Thistle grumbled. "You say somethin' partner?" Soft Touch asked. The stallion slowly shook his head. "Let's get goin'. I've had enough of bein' surrounded by dead ponies." Thistle bluntly stated, the two ponies trotted out of the destroyed camp and headed south west.
Dusk was now beginning to set in and painted the stark desert landscape in an eerie red light. The few hours the two earth ponies spent traveling together were filled with an uneasy silence. The afternoon's events still fresh in both stallions' minds.

As the two ponies kept trotting forwards, Soft Touch began to formulate a plan to help ease the tension. "So, care to explain to me why yer dead set on gettin' to Cross Roads?" The stallion quietly asked.

"I'm lookin' for somepony."

"Somepony eh? You mind elaborating for me?"

"Nope."

Undeterred by his companion's curt nature, Soft Touch continued to prod about his traveling companion's background, but was continuously rebuked by the gunslinger every time. "So, anythin' yer willin' to share with me? Just tell me one thing about yerself and I'll tell ya' whatever you want to know about me, sound good to you?" The inquisitive pony suggested.

Thistle slowed his trotting down and let Soft Touch pass him as he began to contemplate on what to share with him. "Hmmm. You never did ask me about my cutiemark."

Soft Touch took a pause as he turned around to face Thistle. "Well, I did notice when I was rummaging through, that you uh, have no..." Soft Touch fidgeted as he tried to pick his words wisely.

Thistle let out a small laugh as he trotted by the stationary pony. "Don't fret over it, most ponies don't bother mentioning. Too worried I might buck 'um with a hoof if they say somethin' ‘bout it. To be honest, I'm not really bothered by its absence."

Soft Touch sighed and started trotting behind the gunslinger. "The thing I'm puzzled about it is, i've met some ponies yer age out in the Frontier widout any cutiemarks. But these folks were either destitute or shiftless bums and seeing what yer capable of I'm mighty surprised not seein' somethin' adornin' yer flank." Thistle simply shrugged in response to the pony’s question.

"Shoot, you must got a doozy of a story to tell then Thistle."

"I ain't one for stories."

"Alright then...Looks like its yer turn, got any questions you'd like to ask?"

"Just one, how did a pony with the name Soft Touch end up pullin' carriages for a livin'?"

Soft Touch let out a light chuckle. "Yer gonna regret askin', 'cause this story is gonna be a long one. You see my ma wanted me to a baker..." The two stallions continued on their journey across the now midnight covered desert countryside accompanied by Soft Touch's long winded anecdote.

Soft Touch ran a hoof through his black mane as he winded up his story. "...So there ya have it, from simple city pony to carriage puller." Soft Touch gabbed. "I'd imagine yer a Frontier pony born 'n raised."

"How'd you come up with that notion?" Thistle asked.

"You got the gumption y'all Frontier foals are known for and then some to boot."

Thistle sighed in response. "I didn’t spend my whole life out here if that answers your question.” Soft Touch let out a curt chuckle. “When you say you ain’t one for stories, did you mean you ain’t one for talkin’ bout yerself?” The gunslinger’s companion suggested. “My parents raised me to be a humble pony is all...Anyway, how much longer till we get to our destination?" Thistle promptly asked. Soft Touch paused as he began to search his surroundings. "We've still got a day's journey ahead of us, but I think it's best to pitch camp here for the night." Thistle’s companion answered.

Thistle halted to face his guide. "Shouldn't we keep movin'? I ain't keen on gettin' attacked by another band of buffalo whilst I'm asleep." The stallion stated with a hint of concern.

"Don't fret too much 'bout that, the buffalo bands don't go maraudin' during the twilight hours." Soft Touch answered as he began to unbuckle his bags. Thistle sat himself down and watched pony get to work. "That don't make a bit of sense, wouldn't nighttime be the perfect time for them to go raiding?" The gunslinger contemplated.

"You'd think that, but them buffalo are governed by their traditions 'n codes and I guess one of their silly traditions is to leave ponies alone at night." Soft Touch jokingly answered. "Somethin' to do wid their ancestors bein' asleep or somethin', I ain't really well versed in the way of the buffalo."

"I ain't complainin'. You got anything to eat in those packs of yers?" Thistle asked as he pointed a hoof at the bags in front of Soft Touch. The former carriage driver nodded in response and began to rummage through the bags.

"Most of the buffalo took the prime stuff, all I could find were bags of dried vegetables and a few extra flasks of water." Soft Touch declared as he dumped out the bags contents; the pair looked at the stale mixture of produce with disgust.

Thistle promptly grabbed a wrinkled carrot from the mixed batch. "Better than nothin' I suppose." He said before consuming the dehydrated vegetable in a single bite; the earth pony immediately broke into fits of coughing as the dryness of the food began to overwhelm his throat.

Soft Touch chuckled to himself as he offered a silver flask to the choking stallion. Thistle quickly thanked the pony and grabbed the flask with a hoof and began to chug down its contents. "Go easy with the water, we barely got enough to keep us goin'." Thistle slowly nodded his head and went back to his paltry meal. The two ponies quickly devoured their meager rations before settling for the night.

"Hey mind answerin' one more question for me?" Thistle asked.

"Shoot." Soft Touch briskly answered.

"How did you manage to get away from the buffalo that was chasin' you down?" Thistle pondered as he began lie down.

Soft Touch let out a hearty chuckle as he began to recall yesterday morning's events. "Turns out if you gallop hard enough, you can actually get away from those varmints."

"You musta been bookin’ it to get away from that bastard.”

"You bet yer hide I was! I guess once that buffalo realized he couldn't catch me the poor bastard just gave up and headed back home." Soft Touch answered before letting out a long yawn. "Shoulda thought of grabbin' one of those blasted mats.” The pony complained as he laid himself upon the cold desert ground. “Welp, I'm tuckered out, G'night Thistle."

Thistle grunted out an affirmative and began to listen to the desert's nocturnal animals come to life. The earth pony began to drift off to sleep and his mind began to reflect upon Soft Touch’s intensive questioning.

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"Come on now boy, don't give up so easily!"

"This thing is stupid, why in the hay do I even have to learn how to play the violin! You promised two months ago that you'd start teachin' me your trade!"

"And I am son! Look, you've seen earth pony musicians before, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't see how that relat-”

"Shush boy...I want you to think long and hard about this one."

"Fine...I'm drawin' blanks pa."

"Boy, folks in my trade don't get all that far without bein' able to think on their hooves and be quick about it too!”

"You always tell me that!"

"Yer still young boy, you'll get the hang of this and everythin' else I got to teach ya. For now I want you to try and think and find the connection."

"Hmmm, earth pony musicians stand on their hooves to play, they don't have wings or magic to rely on, so they have to use their hoov-I got it!"

"See boy! If you just take the time to think it through."

"Yeah, but the stories you told me about your trade; you don't get that much time to think!"

"Right you are my boy, that's why you've got to practice! Now hurry and finish playin' the music sheets I put before ya..."

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The sun had barely risen as Thistle awoke from his sleep; he began to work out the kinks left in his body after yesterday’s physically punishing ordeal. The stallion let out a yawn and noticed his companion already awake and ready to start their journey once more.

"Good, yer finally awake. We need to get goin' right now, so we can reach Cross Roads by nightfall." Soft Touch gingerly commanded.

"Thought we had a full day of travel ahead of us?" The half awake earth pony lazily asked.

Soft Touch nodded his head. "I did say that, but when I got up to relieve myself last night I saw somepony creepin' around in the dark." The pony whispered. Thistle got up and craned his neck as he searched the vast desert, looking passed the sparse vegetation and occasional rocky outcrop that jutted out. "Ain’t that many places to hide out here partner."

Soft Touch let out a small sigh as he began to scan the horizon for any signs of their hidden spectator. "Better safe than sorry. I know y'all ain't got any bullets left after fightin' wid those buffalo. So we need to grease our horseshoes and high tail it outta here." Thistle reluctantly nodded his head in agreement and the two stallions quickly galloped out of their makeshift camp.

After maintaining a hard gallop for several hours, both ponies were breathing heavily as they eased to a steady canter. Soft Touch paused for a break and looked up at the searing sun overhead. "That oughta put some distance between us 'n whomever was spyin' on us. Mind grabbin' some water from my packs fer us?" Thistle grunted out an acknowledgement and dug through Soft Touch’s saddle bags. "Thanks partner." Soft Touch said as he took a flask from his companion's hoof.

Thistle took a big swig from his own flask and stuck the flask between his bandoliers. "How much more distance we got to cover till we get to Cross Roads?" Thistle asked as he watched Soft Touch pour his canteen’s contents onto his dry mane. "Usually the caravans I work for don't take this route at a heavy gall-" Soft Touch paused as he cleaned out his throat with a massive spit. "...I'd reckon if we ease up a little and continue at a steady canter, we're gonna be in Cross Roads by dusk.

Satisfied with their small respite; the pair maintained their lax speeds and continued on their journey unaware of the figure that was now shadowing their movements from a far.

The sun was just beginning to set as Thistle and Soft Touch both saw vague silhouettes beginning to form on the horizon. The two ponies hastened their trot once they knew that civilization and comfort were only a couple of more minutes away.

The town of Cross Roads was beginning to become more detailed as the pair of ponies got closer. Thistle noted that by Frontier standards the town was more of a city, with Cross Roads easily quadrupling the size of Agua Fria. The town's buildings were sequestered into four districts by a four-laned road that cut through the town.

"Ain't she a beaut? When I first saw Cross Roads I was dumbfounded to see a town this big thrivin' out here." Soft Touch nostalgically gushed.

Thistle ceased his trotting to appreciate the town's grand scale. "Cross Roads is pretty damn big, I'll give it that." The gunslinger bluntly stated.

"Shoot, you should see the town when you actually get inside!" Soft Touch exclaimed as he motioned for his partner to carry on. "Cross Roads has some of the finest brothels around, if yer into those kinda things."

"Look, I don't really care about how fine the call mares are in this town. All I want is information--" Thistle interrupted himself as he noticed a lone figure galloping towards the pair.

His companion shifted his head towards the nearing silhouette. "Who in the hay? You think this the pony that's been followin' us?" Soft Touch interjected.

"Maybe, but this pony must be pretty damned desperate to get to us if he managed to gallop hard enough to be ahead of us." The gunslinger pointed out.

"So what's our play? We just stand here and find out what the pony wants?"

Thistle checked his surroundings and saw nothing out of the ordinary amongst the orange hued desert. "I don't see any others waitin', so this pony is all by his lonesome. I say we just stand here 'n see what this pony wants." Soft Touch nodded his head in agreement and the pair waited for the galloping figure.

After waiting for a couple of minutes the pair’s pursuer revealed itself to be a ragged unicorn stallion with a messy yellow mane and a brown buttoned shirt covering his gray hued coat.

"F-Finally. I've been trackin' you tw-two varmints down this w-whole damn day!" The gray unicorn shouted through labored breathing. Thistle and Soft Touch simply exchanged confused looks between themselves before looking back at the messy unicorn.

"Umm, so what exactly do you want with us?" Soft Touch slowly replied as he kept his eyes upon the newcomer.

The gray unicorn raised his head up and attempted to form a scowl on his face, but instead made his dirtied face contort into a dissatisfied pout. "I've come to r-rob you so h-hoof over e-e-everythin' you've-got!" The unicorn hurriedly instructed.as his horn began to glow with a pale yellow shimmer; his magic levitatating a serrated knife from the confines of his clothing. Thistle and Soft Touch shot the unicorn another confused look. "Come again partner?" The gunslinger dryly asked.

The unicorn let out a labored groan whilst flailing his knife around in frustration. "I was watching you two ponies rummaging through those caravan remains! So I want you to hoof over what y'all found right now!" The pair’s assailant ordered. "Whoa! Y'all might poke somepony's eye out if you keep on swingin' that thing 'round." Soft Touch swiftly stated.

"Damnit! Quit foolin' around, I want whatever you two found, out on the ground right this moment or I'm gonna start stabbin' one of you!" Thistle let out an annoyed sigh before rubbing his head with a hoof. "Look partner, that caravan was already looted! We don't have anything of value on us, I promise!" Soft Touch implored in a calming tone.

The unicorn advanced upon the pair and gritted his teeth. "Ponies always lie, always scheming...." The robber hissed as he stabbed the air with his simple blade.

Thistle slapped his forehead with a hoof whilst his companion fished out a canteen from his bag. "Gallopin' across the desert under the blazin' sun ain't healthy for you, how about I give ya some water and we can settle this nice 'n calm like." Soft Touch soothed as he continued to try and relax the manic eyed pony.

The unicorn licked his parched lips as he contemplated the pony's offer. "No, I'm fine..." The crazed began to rapidly shake his head before focusing his bloodshot eyes onto the two earth ponies. "Celestia damnit! Just hoof over whatever you have!"

Thistle let out an indignant snort and pushed his companion to the side."I've had a rough two days pal! So you better get the hay outta our way before you find yerself takin' a dirt nap!" The gunslinger vehemently barked.

The manic unicorn let out hoarse laugh. "I watched you two like a hawk! You don't have anythin' to defend yourselves wid, so you ain't in a position of makin' any demands!"

"Alright, I've had enough of this joker." The irate gunslinger stated. Thistle swiftly adopted his signature stance and in one fluid motion drew his weapon of choice from its brown holster and immediately pointed his revolver at the gray unicorn's upper chest.

The unicorn’s face scrunched up in dismay as he tried to make sense of his current predicament. "Celestia please! Don't shoot!" The former robber pleaded as the magic around his knife immediately faded, sending the dirtied iron implement falling harmlessly to the ground. "I give! Please, just let me trot away from this!”

Thistle gingerly shook his head and began to cock the hammer of his gun with a hoof. *CLICK* "BANG!" The stallion did his best in trying to replicate his revolver's deadly discharge.

The unicorn shut his eyes and let out a frightened yelp as he flinched in response. "Oh Celestia! It burns! It burns! It.......burns?" The unicorn quickly opened his eyes and began to frantically search himself for any evidence of a wound. The unicorn let out a curt curse before looking immediately looking back at Thistle. "Hey! What giv-" The gray pony swfitly lost his tongue as a blurred hoof came surging straight at his face.

Thistle's hoof struck the poor bandit with a satisfying crack and sent the unicorn's entire body head first into the orange dirt.

Thistle looked at the stunned unicorn's crumpled body and let out a sigh. "I ain't a big fan of dirty fighting, but buck did that feel pretty damn satisfying!" Soft Touch slapped his companion's back with a hoof and let out a hearty laugh. "Hooowwwee! Now that was some grade A acting! Now I'm obliged to buy you a drink after seein' that performance!"

The two ponies began to casually chat as they trotted over the unfortunate unicorn's unconscious body and continued on their way to the awaiting town.