Dust in the Wind

by Foxes33

Prologue

"Sir, we have to be ready. They will be here in the morning," Grumbled a dull green stallion with a dark green mane.

His eyes were a very dark shade of green. He looked at light grey stallion with a dull blue mane. The grey stallion is hunched of papers. They were maps mostly, but there were others too hard to determine. His head lifted from his work, revealing bright blue eyes. He released a frustrated sigh.

"I know Sketch! So why else are you here?" He hissed.

"I am concerned they will come earlier! No need to snap at me!" Sketch snapped back, sitting on the floor.

"Well you shouldn't be barging in Sketch. I am busy!" The grey stallion growled.

Sketch rolled his eyes. He was clearly mad.

"We could be attacked at any time and your looking at these stupid maps! We need to take action before they attack us!" Sketch declared.

The grey stallion just glared at Sketch. He let a small growl escape his throat before stepping one step closer.

"I know that Faren's troops are hostile, but I doubt it. Don't be so eager to attack. You could kill us all," The grey stallion barked in a calmer voice.

"What about Lily? She was nearly killed. The medic is still tending her, she might have to go back. We are loosing troops and your just standing here!" Sketch snapped.

"Don't be like that. You will obey your general and I say we will wait to take action. We can't be rash!" The grey stallion snapped back.

Sketch glared at the grey stallion. He was clearly not very happy. That was when he herd something. The sound of hoof prints on the stone floor of the shelter. His ears pricked and Sketch turned to face the door. The grey stallion stepped closer. That was when a silver mare with a grey mane burst through the door.

"Swift, what are you doing here?" The grey stallion asked concerned.

"The left... flank... was attacked. No... survivors Sir," She huffed.

Sketch's head turned back to face the grey stallion. His eyes seemed to burn like fire with anger.

"See! We shouldn't have waited!" Sketch snapped.

"Sketch stand down. Ever since the death of General Dash, our army has been failing," The grey stallion sighed, facing a map.

It was covered in red tacks. He pulled one off of a East area. He placed it in a box and shook his head in dismay. He faced back to Sketch and Swift.

"Umm, General Creek. We have only one hope I am afraid. Our hidden weapon," Swift sighed.

Swift looked down at her hooves, not daring to look up. Sketch clenched his teeth, nervous. The General could only stare at the map. He studied the red tacks that scattered across a small area and the black tacks that were everywhere else. However he mostly looked at Manehatten, far back in red territory.

"You can't be serious General. She isn't ready. She is too young!" Sketch grumbled.

"Perhaps you are-" Creek started until he was cut off.

"Sir, Sir," Screeched a light brown stallion.

"What is it Shield?" Creek asked concerned.

"Its Wrecker! I think he is done for..." Shield said quietly, trailing off.

"What! No!" Creek breathed.

Creek looked down at the floor boards. Sketch and Swift just gasped. They knew one thing, Wrecker was the son of Creek. He was a nice stallion who had a big heart. They both knew that he died a true soldier.

"Not Wrecker..." Swift murmured.

Sketch could just hear it and looked at Swift for a moment before looking at the ground. A lot had happened in this one day.

"I am going to see my son before he is gone," Creek whispered before he left the room.

He went down the halls to the medical area. An orange stallion with a reddish orange mane was tending to Wrecker, probably just trying to make him comfortable. He was using his magic to get the supplies from the table near by. He lifted his goggles off when he heard Creek.

"Oh, sorry Sir. I can't fix it," He sighed.

"I already know Comet, but I understand, " Creek responded in monotone, "I came too see him before he is gone."

The large dark grey stallion looked to his right and just was able to open his blue eyes.

"Dad..." He coughed.

Blood splattered onto the blood stained blanket. Wrecker was already having trouble breathing and every breath was a struggle.

"I am here. Don't worry," Creek crooned.

"Dad... we need her..." Wrecker croaked.

Creek closed his eyes. He let out a sigh and nodded.

"Just save your breath son," Creek soothed.

"No..." Wrecker croaked, "I... was out there." Wrecker coughed more blood, but didn't stop talking. "They have... something we can't... beat..." Wrecker croaked.

Suddenly a beep came from the monitor. Creek turned to see a horrifying straight line. Comet took off his goggled and looked at the ground. Creek just released a frustrated growl.

"Comet, send Sketch! We need her and now," Creek ordered.

"Yes Sir!" Comet agreed and scampered away.

"It had been ten years. All I can hope is that she is ready," Creek sighed.

Tears came from his eyes. He stayed a mourned for now and hoped. That was when Sketch walked in and glared at him.

"So it all changes now that your son is injured. Did you even care for the rest of us?" Sketch murmured.

"Sketch, just leave, I don't want to deal with this now," Creek whispered.

"Fine, but I want to talk later. I am maybe of lower rank, but you have to give me a chance to help. I am the one who is out there more," Sketch grumbled, and soon he walked out of the room.

Creek lifted his head and watched the dull green pegasus leave the room.