When the young man mentioned to Gibbs that he needed a diving mask, Gibbs scoffed at him and explained, in excruciating detail, how he already knew the young man would need one, and as such, would have one here at the same time. He had sent a runner out just before the young man came in to take care of it all. Said the stuff could even be here in a couple of days, if the store in the next town over was stocked.
After that, the young man helped Gibbs back to his own bed so he could lay next to hi wife instead of a human for the coming night. Before the young man called it in for the day, though, he decided to go check out the reservoir. He had nothing else to do, after all.
He walked out of the house and through town again, and a couple of curious young ponies followed him to the tree line. When he made to pass through, though, none of them were to eager to go along, and hung back, watching from afar until he disappeared behind the leaves.
After a very short bout of walking through some very dense brush and branches; denser than the young man thought the area had any right to be; he stumbled his way to the edge of a fairly small reservoir. It was only about thirty-to-forty feet wide, so the idea that it was twenty-five feet deep seemed off. Maybe Gibbs was just exaggerating.
The young man looked out over the reservoir then realized he was rather thirsty. He was about to go for a drink of water when a male voice called out from behind him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” he said.
The young man looked back to see a pony walking through the brush and getting smacked in the face by branches the whole way. He wasn’t a very big pony, smaller than Gibbs by a significant margin. From the voice, the young man guessed he couldn’t be that old. He had thick fetlocks at his hooves, a dark, Navy blue coat, lightning yellow mane, and two differently colored eyes, one emerald green and the other poop-stain brown. His voice carried a thick Irish accent.
“And why is that, Mr…?”
“Colm Winds,” the pony replied.
“Colm Winds,” the young man replied. “Well, Colm, why wouldn’t I drink the water?”
“Ever since that car a yers crashed into the reservoir, it’s been leakin’ fluids that we shouldn’t exactly be drinkin,” Colm explained. “Gasoline ain’t good for the soul.”
“I would say not,” the young man replied. “Of course, I’ll be swimming in it later, so that can’t be good for me.”
“Quite right,” Colm said. “But ya ain’t got a choice there. Were it up to me, I’d just leave it, but since it’s yer only clothes, and I hear they’re real sentimental, I can’t say not to.”
“Gibbs said that this reservoir is twenty-five feet deep,” the young man said.
“Ah, that’s a load of baloney,” Colm said with a toss of his hoof. He walked up to the water’s edge. “It’s a max of fifteen. He likes to say that since it makes other ponies jealous of our water.”
“With those thugs who give you so much trouble, I figure not having a reputation for having water would be better,” the young man offered up.
“Hardly,” Colm said with disgust. He kicked up the dirt behind him. “Those ankle-biters would come and force us to dig a deeper reservoir, even if it didn’t get us any more crops.”
“They sound pretty bad,” the young man said, reaching for a response.
“They’re right terrible!” Colm shouted angrily. “If there weren’t so many that I know I’d lose, I’d kick ‘em out myself! Right maggots, every last one of ‘em.”
“Glad to know someone doesn’t accept what’s going on around here,” the young man observed happily.
“Yeah, if only it was some two or three,” Colm said dishearteningly. “I’m honestly thinkin’ of leaving this town soon. I just need some money to travel, meaning I gotta hide it whenever the maggots come to eat it up.”
“That sucks,” the young man said succinctly.
“Ha!” Colm laughed. “I haven’t heard that term used like that.”
“Well, I’m glad I could contribute to your vernacular,” the young man said.
“I imagine you’re going to leave, too, if you want to get home,” Colm said. “When do ya expect to leave?”
“ASAP,” the young man responded with frustration. “I just need to heal up, get my stuff from this car, and I can be on my way.”
“Won’t ya need money?” Colm asked.
“I’m banking on the kindness of ponies to help a human in need,” the young man said.
“Well, I hope yer ready for a whole lotta walking and hiding,” Colm warned. “There are villages that’ll give you up right quick to the maggots, so ya gotta move fast. And ya need to hide from them when ya see them on the road.”
“I’m sure I can manage,” the young man said.
“I hope yer right,” Colm said. The young man turned to walk back to the village, and Colm quickly followed suit. “Ya know, the way yer healin’ up, I’d say you could go diving for that stuff of yers the moment ya get the gear.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” the young man said, poking his side. It was tender, but not too cripplingly painful. “If I can get that stuff by the end of tomorrow, I can be out of here in a couple of days, tops.”
“Just be careful with that mask,” Colm said cautiously. “It’s built for ponies, not humans. Ya may need to adjust it a bit when ya get it.”
“Drat, I hadn’t thought of that,” the young man said. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing,” Colm replied. “I wouldn’t want ya to get gasoline in yer eyes.” That sounded like a truly horrific time.
The pair made its way back to the village and parted ways for the time being. Colm was a respectable fellow in the young man’s book. He certainly had the right attitude toward the situation here. If he just had a way of fighting them off one by one as opposed to thirty-to-one, he might be able to fix the situation here. Sadly, those were the odds he faced, and so he wouldn’t be able to fight. Instead, he just had to do what he said he would, and leave, just like every one of them should have done long ago.
But for now, he would need to sleep on what he knew and what he would have to do later. At the very least, though, he now knew that he had some kind of ally in this hopeless pony settlement.