/co/ Vs. Ponychan: The Western Anthology

by Write Off


Western Side Story

The sun beat down on the back of Big Macintosh’s head as he stood in the middle of the dusty main road of Appleloosa. With the sun just now beginning to set, he hoped that it’s glaring rays might blind his opponent at the other end of the street. He saw there’d be no such luck as the other stallion tipped their hat forward, shading his eyes.

“This is all your doing, cous,” Braeburn shouted from his end of the street. “And while it tears me up something awful, I’m gonna take you down.” Breaburn widened his stance, his head leaning closer to the barrel of apples at his side. “I ain’t holding back on you, jus’ cause I once considered you kin,” the stallion’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you ready to defend yerself?”

Macintosh gave a short glace at his own barrel of apples. Braeburn was smaller, but he was also much much faster. Macintosh licked his lips , “Eeyup.”


WESTERN
SIDE STORY

That same day, before it all went wrong, around lunch time; Macintosh was cozied up under the shade of a freshly bucked tree. He took an apple from the nearby barrel and carefully placed in on his forehoof before devouring it in a single bite. Braeburn appeared from behind the tree Mac leaned against, the other pony’s face full of awe. Macintosh only smiled, knowing that Braeburn was looking over each tree in the orchard and that he would find all the branches bare.

“Hooowee, Cousin Macintosh, you know you just cut our workload in half by your lonesome,” Braeburn declared, flabbergasted.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac said before helping himself to another piece of the literal fruits of his labor.
“Well, by all means, help yourself to as many apples as you please,” Braeburn said as he took a seat next to his much larger cousin. “You earned ‘em. On top of that, you can just say the word and I’ll have some whipped up into any tasty concoction you can think of.”

The two sat in silence for several minutes, the only sounds were the wind and Big Mac’s munching. The amber coated pony shifted uncomfortably as though he were sitting on anthill and just too gosh darn polite to move. It was obvious to Mac that his cousin had something eating at him, but not on his rump, something was on his mind. The large red stallion put out a giant hoof and gently placed it on the other’s back.

“Am I being that obvious,” Braeburn said with an awkward little laugh. “Truth of the matter cous, I didn’t just invite y’all out here to help with the harvest.” Braeburn scratched at the back of his orange mane before continuing, “I actually have a whole ‘nother problem all together.”

Big Macintosh urged his cousin on with a small push against his back. Braeburn sighed and continued, “I hear tell that you’re something of a stud back in Ponyville.” The red stallion turned slightly redder in the cheeks, but did not deny the claim. “And there t’aint no easy way for me to say it, but I’m just plain chicken when it comes to the mare folk. I just don’t have your way with words, I suppose.”

“Be that as it may, I’ve found me a gal who sets my heart aflutter. I actually met her when your sister came to town with her friends during that business with Bloomberg and the orchard and that... terrible song. ” Breabun shuddered at the memory. After a moment, reached into his vest and delicately pulled out a photograph, he hesitated before setting it on the ground and releasing it from his mouth. Macintosh’s large green eyes focused on the little snapshot lying in the dust, it was of an shyly smiling buffalo with a curly little mane and a feathered headband. “Her name’s Little Strongheart. Yeah, I know she ain’t exactly what you were expecting, but believe you me, she’s something special. She’s tougher than you’d imagine from looking at her; she might not be able to buck like you and me, but you just watch her run on open ground and woo-wee what a jumper! She’s smart too, during that trouble, she was about the only one with enough sense to try and sort things out without tusslin’.”

Big Mac hadn’t taken his eyes off the photo. He was having no trouble believing that his cousin could have an interest in such a lady. Braeburn continued on in his wistful description of the buffalo girl. “Anyway, after that whole affair, she and I became friends. She was real curious as she’d never really gotten to know us pony folk before and I sure as sugar ain’t ever gotten to know a buffalo, so I was a might curious too. We’ve spent heaps of time together, but lately I started to notice that ol’ butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach.” Braeburn set a hoof next to the picture, the edge of his hoof barely touching the edge of her face in the photo. “I thought it mighta just been, ya know, a passing thing, but it’s been gettin’ to be something fierce. I think,” Braeburn paused and just stared at the eyes looking up from the photo. “I know it’s more than just a passing fancy. Cousin Macintosh, I do believe I’ve fallen for her.”

They were both entirely silent as the full impact of the words sank in. It occurred to Macintosh that this was probably the first time his cousin had given voice to his feelings to anypony. Braeburn gave the photo one last lingering look before pushing it back into his vest. “Well, here’s where things get sticky; I’ve made up my mind to let her know how I feel. I even bought her a gift to mark the occasion,” he trotted over to their carriage as he spoke and pulled out a wrapped up box. “Last time we were in town, I saw her making eyes at this hat and I ran out and bought it the moment she was out of sight.” He sighed heavily. “Trouble is, now that I know that I’m head over hooves for her, just the thought of talking to her gets all four of my knees a knocking and my tongue seems to swell up to the size of a dinner plate.” Braeburn nosed the box towards Macintosh, “So I’m asking you... No, I’m begging you, cousin, would you please take this to her over in buffalo territory and,” Braeburn gave a little smile, “use that silver tongue of yours to tell her that I think she’s, well, that she’s plum swell? Can you do this for me?”

The large workhorse looked down at the box and then at his cousin’s eager face and he thought of that other face that was on that small photo resting against the pony’s breast. Big Macintosh reached down and grabbed the box by the ribbon and lets it slide down until it was held firmly in his jaws. “Eeyup,” he replied finally. Braeburn’s hug nearly tackled him to ground.

* * *

It was a small task for Macintosh to get to buffalo territory. Since opening up trade with the Appleloosians, a clear trail had been made between the town and the buffalo herd’s current camp ground. He was met with warm greetings from the buffalo he encountered, something he was most thankful for as they were the first folks he’d met that dwarfed him in size. He hadn’t gone far into the camp when he heard a small voice calling after him.

“Excuse me sir,” the little raspy voice called. Mac turned around slowly and promptly forgot how to breathe. “Are you the pony they call Big Macintosh,” she asked curiously, looking up at him. He dumbly nodded and she burst into a bright smile, he was certain his heart stopped briefly. “I’ve heard so much about you from your cousin Braeburn. I’m a friend of his, my name’s Little Strongheart,” she said excitedly pacing towards him. “He showed me your picture in his family photo album so I recognized you right away. Strange that he did not mention you were coming into town, he usually shares everything with me,” she had a small note of concern in her voice. Any worries were replaced with amazement as she approached, she was having to crane her neck to look him in the eye. “Oh my, you certainly live up to your name. You are easily the largest pony I’ve ever met.”

Macintosh looked away and rubbed his neck just above his yoke. At that moment, the little energetic buffalo noticed the box on his back. “What is that,” she inquired with a hint of excitement. Macintosh blinked his eyes several times before he recalled his reason for coming out here. He regretfully tore his eyes from the little lady in font of him and pulled the present from off his back and deftly deposited it at her hooves. She looked up at him curiously, “A gift? For me?”

“Eeyup,” he said pawing at the ground.

As the gal carefully untied the ribbons from the box, Macintosh tried to remember the things his cousin had told him to tell Strongheart, but he found it hard to think with her fluffy tail twitching in the air. She let out a gasp after removing the lid of the box. She dove partially in and rummaged inside. She emerged wearing a large pink stetson. “Oh my goodness, it’s the exact same hat I was admiring in town the other day,” she rushed forward and put her skinny forelegs around his neck. Macintosh could no longer recall his name, let alone anything about what his cousin had said to him barely two hours ago. “Thank you so much Big Macintosh,” she cried. “Your cousin must have told you as much about me as he told me of you. This is such a thoughtful gift.”

Things clicked into place in his head and he was suddenly aware that the situation had just taken a turn for disaster, he inhaled to begin an explanation when he felt her lips brush against his cheek. He decided explanations could wait, and why were folks so hung up on explanations anyway?

The little buffalo blushed and looked down at the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was terribly forward of me. It’s just,” she looked up at him from under the brim of her new hat, “all of the men I know are from my tribe and when you grow up with someone, they feel more like family than anything else. I have told Braeburn this and to suddenly have his much talked about and rather handsome cousin come by with a gift that he was aware that I very much wanted, I can not help but think that this may have been his intention. I suppose what am I trying to say is that, if you’re interested, I would not mind if you wished to call on me.” She was blushing as she finished speaking. She put a hoof to her mouth as a fearful look swept across her face, “Oh dear, or have I made a terrible mistake? Are you interested in courting me?”

He could feel her lips on his cheek and her coat against his chest from moments ago, he could still smell her mane.
“Eeyup,” he answered, almost bashfully. The look on her face did much to help bury that rotten feeling growing in his stomach.

* * *

Macintosh took his time getting back to Braeburn as he tried to think of the right thing to say to explain what happened, it didn’t help. Braeburn went into a flurry of questions the moment he saw Mac, “So what did you say? What did she say?” When Macintosh didn’t answer, the other stallion got antsy. “Did something happen? Did you lose the gift? Did she hate it? At least tell me, did she like the hat?”

“Eeyup,” Macintosh said, not looking his cousin in the eye.

Braeburn was all smiles, “Well that’s a weight off my mind. Braeburn’s smile faded when Macintosh still refused to meet his eye. “What’s wrong with you cous,” Braeburn asked earnestly. “You’re acting like a colt who got caught with his face in the cookie jar.” Macintosh’s ears drooped in response and all expression fled from Braeburn’s face. “That smudge on your cheek,” he said hollowly, “I bought her that on her first trip into town ‘cause she was curious about our makeup. You gave the gift as though it were from you, didn’t you?” Big Macintosh felt as though he about three inches tall.

Braeburn tiled his head down, his hat hiding his eyes. “I told you she was something else, I guess you know that now,” he whispered miserably. Braeburn jerked his head up and pressed forward so that was nose to nose with his cousin. “How could you do this to me cousin?” Braeburn shook his head and stepped back. “No. You ain’t no kin of mine no more. That was my gift to her. Those were my thanks she gave you. And by all rights, that’s my affection you’re getting,” Breaburn stamped his hoof angrily. “And you know what that makes you? A thief and a liar!”

Braeburn furiously paced around Macintosh, who was raising to his full height. “So I’m calling you out thief,” Braeburn spat. “We settle matters personally out here in Appleloosa, with an old fashioned duel. We usually wait until noon, but I don’t think I can hold myself back that long. Sundset, main street, and bring your own barrel of apples cause you ain’t touching anything else of mine,” Braeburn finished and stomped off with an angry snort, leaving Macintosh glaring at his fleeing backside. He didn’t much care for being called a thief, he needed to buy some apples.

* * *

Sundown, Big Macintosh and Braeburn stared at each other from opposite ends of the street. The citizens of Appleloosa watched from their windows, lest they be struck by a stray apple, the only other pony on the street was Sheriff Silverstar. “Now I want a good clean duel here,” the mustached sheriff said loudly. “I’d also like to add that if y’all wanna take a moment to talk out yer differences, well, I think that would be just absatively grand.” Macintosh opened his mouth to speak and shut it immediately as Braeburn threw one of his apples into the air and gave it a buck, sending it smashing into the dust between Mac’s forelegs. Silverstar whistled, “I’ll be taking that as a ‘no’. Carry on boys.” With that, the sheriff darted into the nearest building. A second later, cautiously peered from behind the swinging door.

“Unless you want to just hold still while I start bucking, I’d suggest you go for your own barrel when I count three,” Braeburn said loudly, his tail twitched in anticipation. “One,” Macintosh raised a hoof, preparing to step to the side. “Two,” Braeburn’s mane shifted in the sparse breeze.

“Wait!” a small voice shouted from a nearby side street. Both Big Macintosh and Braeburn turned to see Little Strongheart whip around the corner, her little legs running at a full tilt. “Just what is going on here,” she demanded as she skidded to a stop.

“Just walk away Lil’ Strongheart, this here’s about to become an ugly scene,” Braebrun said glaring at Mac.

“Ugly scene,” Strongheart repeated in disbelief. “What reason could you possibly have to duel with your own family,” she said angrily as she stepped closer.

Braeburn faltered and took a step back as she approached. “That thief ain’t no kin of mine. He lied to you and stole you away from me!”

“A thief? Stole me,” the buffalo’s voice trailed off as she echoed his words. “Braeburn, what is it you are implying?”

Braeburn broke out into a sweat that had nothing to do with the heat. “That hat was from me, Macintosh just made like it was his gift to you. And along with it he stole your afec,” he paused, stumbling over the words. “He stole your thanks.”

“I realized as such, that’s why I’m here,” she said pulling a slip of paper from under her new hat. “There was a receipt in the box and it was dated for the same day as when I first saw this hat in the shop with you, so I knew it was impossible for this to have been from your cousin.” Strongheart turned to face Macintosh, “And shame on you Big Macintosh for leading me on like that.” Big Macintosh’s ears plastered to his skull.

Braeburn let out a relieved sigh and slumped as the tension for the upcoming fight evaporated. “Well that sure is a relief-” He was cut off by Little Strongheart slamming her forehead into his.

“And you Braeburn, I am so very disappointed in you,” she said, tears standing in her eyes. “You’ve often told me that you respected my opinion and my intelligence, but when you had an issue regarding my behavior with another your first instinct appears to be to try and beat him into submission as opposed to coming to me about it. Do you view me as one of your carnival prizes to be won in some silly competition,” she raised one leg and knocked the hat from her head. “I thought you held me in higher regard than that. I thought,” she rubbed her eyes with her foreleg, “It no longer matters what I thought. I do not wish to see either of you again. You may beat each other senseless for all I care, but it shall not have anything to do with me.”

Little Strongeart took only two steps before colliding with the red coated wall that was Big Macintosh. The small young lady looked up, unimpressed, “I have no interest in anything you could have to say, but if you feel you must unburden yourself, make it brief so that I might be home before too late into nightfall.”

The large pony took a single breath, “Ma’am, I am sorry I deceived you with my lie of omission. The truth is that the hat was a gift from my cousin here, but I was too taken by you to deliver it or his message properly. I have a bit of a reputation back home for being an expert with the ladies, but the truth is that the only gals waiting for me are my granny and my sisters. So I don’t ask you to forgive me for my indiscretion, but try to not to think to harshly on me for letting a pretty gal kiss me and being stunned into stupidity immediately after.”

“Much more important is that I ask you to forgive my cousin. Braeburn’s one of the kindest and most level headed ponies I know. He really does think very highly of you and told me as such himself. The trouble is that anypony is prone to make a right fool of themselves when they’re, well, in love.”

Little Strongheart stood perfectly still for several seconds before turning to see Braeburn sitting on his haunches and holding her discarded hat in his forelegs, hiding his face behind it. She lightly walked toward him and laid down so that they were face to hat. “Is this true, do you have such affections for me?”

Slowly the hat lowered so that Braeburn’s eyes were visible. “Eeyup,” he said shakily. “The fact is, I think you’re the greatest thing since apple pie and, well shoot, if you’d be willing, it’d just about make me the happiest pony in all Equestria if I could be the one to court you. In fact, there’s supposed to be a Mild West Dance tonight and I bought you this hat for the occasion. I’d understand if you still don’t want nothin’ to do with me, but I think you should keep the hat. You just look real purty in it is all,” he finished, trailing off.

Little Strongheart looked around nervously and lowered her head, still looking up into Braeburn’s eyes. He pulled the pink hat away from his muzzle and gingerly placed it atop her curly mane. She raised her head and smiled at him. Breaburn cleared his throat, “So buffalo gal, won’t you come out tonight and dance by the light of the moon?” Little Strongheart leapt forward, lips first, the brims of their hats collided and were knocked from their heads. All down the street, the town’s folk “awww”ed their approval.

Not too many paces away, Macintosh gave the new couple a pleased looking over, ignoring the small pangs he felt in his chest. He had only just turned when he heard Braeburn say to Strongheart to, “Sit tight a moment,” and he was galloping to Mac’s side. “I’m sorry for how I acted cousin, I guess I really can’t judge you too harshly for losing your head over her. She seems to have that effect on ponies.” A sly smile spread out on his youthful face, “But I can’t help but notice that this whole thing seems to have ended up with me giving her that hat and telling her my feelings myself. In fact, a suspicious pony might think that everything after you got that there peck on your cheek was all part of some half cocked scheme to get somepony to grow spine enough to tell a gal that he cares. But that’s just ridiculous talk, ain’t it?”


Big Macintosh smiled broadly. “Mmaybe,” was all he said.