Climbing the Mountain 2

by Talon and Thorn

1) Homeward Bound

“There we are, Mrs G,” announced Max as he looked up at the horizon. “Home sweet home. We’re almost back to Sadlzburg.” Even if he hadn’t been able to see the town, he could feel it in his hooves. Whether it was some facet of his earth pony heritage, his own personal talent, or just his imagination, Max had always thought that he could feel a difference between each place he visited. Canterlot felt old and powerful to him, like a sleeping giant. Sadlzburg felt warmer, faster, more active… He frowned. …and maybe a little smaller than he remembered.

Max and Mrs G’s train had arrived into Praris station after sundown yesterday, and had spent a night in the town’s hotel before setting out the next morning to make the trek to Sadlzburg – the capital of the province of Nulpar. The route between the two was still little more than a large track, so the going was hard. Even so, it seemed further than Max remembered. He suspected he was out of shape; months of fancy living in Canterlot had taken its toll. He glanced up at the sun; it was already starting to lower. He used to be able to make the journey in less than half a day, given good weather. Still, they should be in town well before sundown.

“I see it, dearie,” confirmed Mrs Grobnar. The old goat had been quiet for most of the journey, but Max could tell she was eager to get home and see her family again. He wondered what had happened while they’d been away. He’d gotten regular letters from Off Piste, his best friend and now lord mayor, but they had been mostly business. His mother had sent him some correspondence as well, but although full of gossip they hadn’t given him much of an overview of life in the town.

“I’m sure Brian, Conn and Sealbhach will be happy to see you,” said Max, referring to Mrs G’s sons.

“I’ve missed them. They’ve written, but it’s not the same. Well, Conn’s been doing most of the actual writing, you know Brian’s not that good with his letters, but even Sealbhach sent me a card or two.”

Max nodded along with the old goat, while keeping an eye on their surroundings. Sadlzburg was positioned in the middle of a deep but wide valley carved out of the surrounding mountains. A medium sized river ran down the centre, with the town on one side and thick forest on the other. The rest of the valley was farmed; fields of potatoes, carrots and other root vegetables stretched out to each side as well as some of the hardier grains. Nulpar as a whole wasn’t known for its crops, but this area was one of the most fertile in the province. The town made a profit supplying food to neighbouring settlements as well as harvesting the wood from the forest. The growing season around here wasn’t long, so the farmers had to work as hard as they could during the few months available to them. Most of this area actually belonged to his family; he was in fact the major land holder. He’d never bothered to find out exactly how much, as his mother and Mrs G kept track of that sort of thing, but most of the farmers paid him some form of rent, be it in money or goods. They’d paid him town taxes separately when he was lord mayor, and he’d always preferred to collect in services then; most of the weather patrol were drafted that way, along with various other public services. It generally seemed to work out. He supposed now that he was baron he should be charging further taxes for administering the province, but he hadn’t really done much administering to make a charge worth it yet. One more thing to add to his workload, he supposed.

“Hey, Max!” came a cry, shocking him from his thoughts. He glanced up and saw a green coated earth pony mare galloping through the fields towards him. He recognised her as Greenleaves, one of his friends and an unofficial member of the town council, the closest thing he had to an agricultural advisor. Now that they were drawing closer to town, there were a few other farm ponies about, working the fields. Attracted by the cry, they looked over towards him; most gave him a smile and a nod as he passed, one or two even called out a greeting, but a few frowned. “Glad you made it back safely,” said Greenleaves as she came to a stop next to him. She threw a rather muddy hoof over his back and pulled him into a rib-cracking hug. Despite being slightly shorter than average, Greenleaves managed to be one of the strongest Ponies Max knew.

“We had some problems with the trains but nothing too serious,” gasped Max. “Nice to see you again, how’s things?” he asked. Seeing Greenleaves was like a breath of fresh air. It just made him feel that he was home and everything was going to be alright.

“About the same as usual, really. Not a bad crop this year, not going to break any records, but we’re not going to starve either. Could do with Sunbeam making a bit less snow and more rain of course, but I don’t suppose I can complain.” She said the last bit pointedly at a nearby stallion, who humphed and turned away with his muzzle in the air.

“What was that about?” asked Max, puzzled. Maybe things weren’t alright after all.

“Nothing, really. Honeybun’s been shooting her mouth off as usual. It’s just some of the guys have been actually paying attention to her for a change. Never a good thing.”

Honeybun had been a perpetual thorn in Max’s side in Sadlzburg during his time as mayor. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to annoy the local barmare, but she seemed to disagree with almost everything he did, and didn’t hesitate to tell anyone who came near what she was thinking. Given that she ran the only bar in town, that meant most of the town knew exactly what she thought on every issue. “What’s she been saying...” began Max.

“Mathair!” came a cry from down the path. Max looked up and saw a huge grey-coated billy goat rushing towards them, followed by a much smaller black nanny. “Mathair!” cried the billy again.

For a moment a wide smile flashed over Mrs G’s face. Then she quickly hid her reaction and put on a slightly annoyed expression. “Brian!” she called. “Calm down!”

Not heeding his mother, the large goat gripped Mrs G tightly and hefted her into a hug. “Failte is furan,” he cried.

“I missed you too,” muttered Mrs G, returning her son’s hug. “Now put me down!”

Somewhat gingerly, Brian released his mother, before giving her a more demure goat greeting by gently bumping his head against hers. He was Mrs G’s oldest son, about Max’s age; his father had been one of the Tor, the wild goats that roamed the mountains. He had left Mrs G and returned to his own people when Brian was only a few years old. As a result, Brian had started to learn Equestrian quite late and still had difficulty speaking the pony tongue. Many took this as a sign of his stupidity, and Max had to admit that Brian wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, but he certainly wasn’t as dumb as many made out.

“Good to see you,” said Max in the local goat tongue. Most of the town’s population could manage at least the basics of the language.

“Thanks, baron,” said Brian, in the same language, reaching down and bumping hooves with Max.

The smaller nanny had by now caught up with their group and was waiting behind Brian, looking a little nervous. “Welcome back, Mrs Grobnar,” she said, bending at the knees slightly to give the goat equivalent of a bow.

“Thank you, Caoimhe,” said Mrs G. “How’s your father? The lumber business doing well?”

“He’s well, business is good.”

“I work there almost full time now,” said Brian, looking proud. He stepped a little closer to Caoimbe and gently leaned against her. “Caoimhe has been very kind to me. She cooks for me and helped me at work, she knows all about different types of trees. I like her a lot.” He looked a little uneasy before his mother. “We’ve been dating.”

“Is that so?” said Mrs G, narrowing her slitted eyes.

Caoimbe also looked rather scared. “I hope you approve. Your son is very kind and gentle. I enjoy spending time with him.”

“She’s really nice, mum,” said Brian, looking over at Caoimbe with his eyes glittering. “And pretty, and she doesn’t mind how dumb I can be.”

“You’re not dumb!” exclaimed Caoimbe. “Don’t listen to things like that,” she scolded him gently. She turned back to the older Nanny. “I... I think I love your son,” she admitted.

Mrs G narrowed her eyes for a moment and looked the small mare up and down. “Well, I should hope so. Now, when were you planning on telling me you were pregnant?”

“How?!” exclaimed Caoimhe eyes widening, “I only found out a few days ago.”

“I have my ways,” said Mrs G with a smile. “A grandmother knows.”

“Beo-leatromach!” exclaimed Brian, staring wide eyed at Caoimhe. “Beo-leatromach!” he repeated before giving a bleat and toppling over into the dirt. His lover dropped to her knees in panic to examine him.

“Don’t worry,” said Mrs G, prodding her fallen son. “He does that, he’ll be fine. You know, I expected my first grandchild to be from Sealbhach, and probably an accident. Still, welcome to the family dear.”

Brian’s eyes blinked open and Max and Greenleaves started to help the large goat get to his hooves. “Beo-leatromach!” he repeated again. Caoimhe backed away a little and looked down at the ground fearfully.

“I meant to tell you earlier, but the time never seemed right. You’re happy about this, right?” she asked nervously.

“Posam!” he proclaimed. “Marry me!”

A look of shock passed over Caoimhe’s face. “You’re sure? You...”

“Marry me!” he repeated carefully and gently, taking one of her hooves in his own. “I love you.”

“Yes! Yes!” she cried, a wide smile crossing her face as she practically bounced in place.

“You’re witnesses?” said Brian, turning to Max, Mrs G and Greenleaves.

“Yes,” agreed Max with a smile. Three witnesses of such an agreement was all that was needed for a goat wedding. Of course, their divorces were just as simple as well.

“Of course!” agreed Greenleaves a soppy smile in her face.

“Yes,” said Mrs G solemnly.

Brian leaned forwards and kissed his new wife passionately. She gave a squeal as he hoisted her onto his back. “A’chailleach Beo-leatromach!” he roared as he galloped off down the road.

Mrs G sighed as she watched her son race off down the road, shouting at everybody he passed on the way. “His father was just the same,” she said. Then her smile faltered a bit. “I better get off after him. The ponies will want a wedding their way, and a party I expect. I’ll need to get that organised. Also I should start on knitting something for the kid.”

“I’ll see you later,” said Max with a smile. “You can go spread the good news to the rest of your family. I’ll find Piste and see what’s been happening while I’ve been away.” Mrs G nodded and started off down the path. Max turned back to Greenleaves. “Well that seemed like a good omen. I didn’t get to go to a wedding in Canterlot. Now what’s this about Honeybun?”

“Well you know her, never happy. Since you left she’s been spreading rumours that you don’t really care about us anymore, that now you’ve got all sort of posh friends you won’t help us,” said Greenleaves.

“Oh come on! Why would anyone think that! I love this town!” said Max, gesturing in the direction of Sadlzburg. The town’s outermost buildings were now in sight.

“We know that Max, but there are always some ponies willing to listen to her. It’s just a few more than normal. Lots of folks weren't happy when the Equestrian Revenue Service starting looking into their business. The tax collectors weren't very polite, downright suspicious, almost treated us like criminals.” She frowned and snorted.

Max winced a bit. Before Nulpar was formed, national taxes were always a bit sketchy; sometimes the nearby tax offices remembered they existed, sometimes they didn’t. One of the first things he’d had to do as baron was to provide as full details as possible about the province to the ERS. He didn’t think they’d been too happy with the lack of answers he had to many of their questions. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to talk to the townsfolk, explain it all to them. If they want help from the rest of the country, they have to pay their taxes like the rest of the country.”

“Well, I know that but...”

“Well look who finally decided to come back to town!” came a cry from nearby. Max’s head snapped up. While he and Greenleaves had been talking, they’d made their way into the town centre. Quite a few ponies, goats, donkeys and the like were starting to gather around. “Got tired of all your fancy friends?” Max glanced over at the approaching mare, yes, as expected it was Honeybun. She was a short but stout pegasus pony, and if you looked close enough you could make out alternating dark and light stripes in her dark yellow coat. It was an unusual colouration and now that Max had seen zebras, he wondered if Honeybun had one or two somewhere in her family tree.

“Come on, Honey,” said Greenleaves, putting herself between the approaching mare and Max. “The baron’s only just got into town. Give him time to settle in at least.”

Max stepped forwards and gently pushed Greenleaves aside. “Good afternoon, Honeybun,” he said politely, trying to sound cheerful. “I’m glad to be back. Canterlot was nice, but not a patch on Sadlzburg.”

“What was it you said before you left?” said Honeybun, her rather stumpy wings beating rapidly. “That you were going to get us some help? So exactly what help did you get us, eh? Help taking away our money? Help making our lives harder?” She pointed an accusing hoof at Max.

There was a rumble of agreement from the crowd that was starting to form around Max. “Hey,” exclaimed Max, “I’ve done what I could!”

“And what exactly was that then?”

“I’ve gotten the clinic better funding for more equipment. Housemartin could take on an assistant even.” He was quite proud of that. It hadn’t been easy, but Baron Fields had been on one of the medical committees and had told him what to apply for.

“Really? First I’ve heard of it.” Honeybun actually looked a little impressed but she quickly hid it. “When will this happen then?”

Max winced a bit, this wouldn’t go down well. “It’ll be next year when the grant gets paid but...”

“Next year? I guess we’ll just have to make sure we don’t get sick in the next few months then!” said Honeybun sarcastically.

“These things take time, Honeybun, you can’t expect things to change overnight!”

“We expect something for our money! What are we paying the court for? I read the papers, didn’t the Princess threaten to disband it for corruption? Where did our money go, Max? To fund another big party for the nobles?” There were louder cries from the crowd.

“Please calm down,” said Max, trying to quiet the crowd. “Yes, there were some problems at court, but things are changing for the better! I’m doing all I can to get help for Nulpar, I applied for lots of grants, to help with the road building, better post, farming grants, lots of things, it just takes time to get through the committees!”

Honeybun stepped forwards putting herself in Max’s face. “We don’t need more empty promises, we need action! Weren’t you going to fix everything, Max? Isn’t that what you said?”

“I never...” began Max

“Come on, people! What’s going on here? Make room!” came a cry from nearby and the crowd started to open up. To his relief Max saw his old friend Off Piste approaching him. “Max!” he cried, “Good to see you!”

“And you too, Piste,” said Max, moving forwards to give the other stallion a quick hug, glad to have some distraction from Honeybun.

Piste turned back to the crowd. “Come on, Honeybun, Max only just got back. Give him a break.”

“He needs to explain what he’s been doing all this time!” she complained.

“And he will,” said Piste.

“I will,” agreed Max, nodding. He just wasn’t sure exactly how yet.

“He just needs some time, he only just got back, he’s been travelling all day. Give him a day or two and I’m sure he can answer all your questions.”

“Yes,” said Max gratefully. Some time to sort things out would let him get his head straight, give him time to decide how to explain things to his people.

Around them the crowd seemed at least partially mollified by the idea. Honeybun, however, wasn’t as easily appeased. “We want answers, Max! What are you doing to help us?”

“Isn’t it about time you opened the bar?” asked Piste. “I think there’s quite a few people around here who look thirsty after a hard day in the fields.”

There was a roar of approval and much of the crowd started to migrate towards the town pub. Honeybun seemed torn for a moment, but saw that most of her supporters were starting to leave and turned to go. “You haven't heard the last of me, either of you!” she mumbled.

Piste took Max by the leg and quickly led him into the nearby town hall. Greenleaves followed close behind.

“What was that about?” asked Max, feeling rather stunned. He’d never known the townspeople to act like that before.

“I’m sorry, Max. Honeybun’s been making trouble for months now. I just can’t control things like you used to,” he wrung his hooves.

“You seemed to be making a good job of it just then. I’m glad you arrived when you did.”

“If I was as good as you, I’d never have let her get so out of control.” Piste hung his head.

“Piste,” said Greenleaves, “she’s always been a trouble maker, she’s not your fault. Max going to Canterlot just gave her something else to complain about.”

“Honeybun is both our problems,” said Max. “Still, I’m sure if we can just get everyone to sit down and listen, we can sort things out.”

Piste nodded. “I suppose so, Max.”

“Well, I’m sure you boys can sort something out,” said Greenleaves. “I better get back to the farm, I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Greenleaves,” called Max as the mare headed out of the town hall. Then he turned back to Piste. “Now, like I said, it’s good to see you. How have you been?”

“Um, good, I guess. It’s not been easy these last few months. You made being mayor look easy, any chance you’ll take the job back?” He gave a weak smile.

“And you can try being baron?” replied Max with a grin. “You’re welcome to give it a go, but I think it’s even harder!”

“You never told me there was so much paperwork!” said Piste, gesturing towards the mayor’s desk, which was covered in stacks of paper.

“That’s mostly my fault, I’m afraid,” said Max. “There didn’t used to be so much, but since I became baron I’m afraid I need reports on almost everything. But I’ll give you a hoof now I’m back.”

“Um, well, Conn has something to say about that,” said Piste, looking a little shifty.

“Where is he anyway?” asked Max, looking about for Mrs G middle child. “Isn’t he supposed to be your assistant?”

“Oh, his brother rushed in a little while back shouting something about getting married and dragged him away.”

“Ah, well, I guess I should probably head over to Hearth’s and get a room. We should try and get as many of the town council together to have a meeting tonight.”

Piste shook his head. “You can stay here, Max. You don’t need to get a room.”

“I can’t take your place, Piste. You live here now.”

“Well, not really. I tried for a week or so but it never really felt like home. I kept my own house and I stay there most nights. I shifted all your stuff back in here – it’ll take a bit of work to make it liveable, but not that much.”

“Oh, well, if it’s free,” said Max. It would be nice to spend the night in his old bed; the one in Canterlot had never quite felt right.

“It’s always felt like your place even when you weren't here,” said Piste, shrugging.

“Well if you’re sure... It will be nice to spend the night somewhere that feels like home. I’ll get onto sorting the place out, unpack my saddle bags, then I better go and see mum and tell her I’m home.”

“I’ll give you a hoof. You should probably spend the evening settling in. I can get the council together for tomorrow once you’ve made yourself at home,” suggested Piste.

“Maybe we should get to work right away. We’ve got a lot to do,” said Max, turning towards the door. Piste stopped him with an outstretched leg.

“One night won’t make much of a difference, Max.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Max, pausing for a moment before turning and making his way towards the stairs leading up to the bedroom.

---

It was dusk by the time Max gently pushed open the door to his mother's cottage. As expected, it wasn’t locked; only the most paranoid ponies bothered in Sadlzburg. Wanting to surprise her, he silently made his way to the sitting room. To his surprise he found a pony that wasn’t his mother sitting in one of the chairs. Doctor House Martin gave a gasp as Max entered, then relaxed. “Don’t do that!” snapped the older unicorn. “You could have given me a heart attack!”

Max swallowed. He’d forgotten that his mother was dating the grumpy doctor. Well, not so much forgotten as tried to push the fact out of him mind. It didn’t seem right, his mother being with anypony; he knew it wasn’t rational but he just didn’t like it.

“What is it, Martin?” came his mother’s voice from the kitchen. She nudged open the door and stuck her head into the room. “Max!” she cried upon seeing her son and rushed towards him as quickly as her bad leg could carry her. The tray of tea that had been on her back went flying, only to be caught in House Martin’s aura and gently rested on a table. “When did you get back?” she asked, nuzzling her son.

“A few hours ago, mum,” said Max, returning the gesture.

“So how was Canterlot? I got all of your letters but I’ve got so many questions.”

“Um, I guess I should be on my way now, give you some time with the boy,” said House Martin, getting up from his seat.

“Oh, you don’t have to go, you know,” said Early Delivery, moving away from her son.

“No, you’ve got some catching up to do and I’d just be in the way. I’ll see you tomorrow,” said the unicorn. He leaned down and kissed Delivery gently on the lips, making Max squirm. “Baron,” he confirmed with a nod as he made his way from the little house.

“So, um, mum, how are things?” asked Max, sitting on one of the seats and moving the tea tray closer. Delivery took a seat opposite and took one steaming mug of tea and sipped it. Max tried the other and almost gagged, finding it sickeningly sweet. How many sugars did House Martin take?

“Not bad. I helped with Sugar Cube’s foaling last week, twins, it was a bit touch and go but both mother and fillies are alright. The father fainted twice, but that’s normal. Piste is still checking up on me every few days like you asked. It’s nice of him given how busy he is now, and I’ve got Martin to look after me as well, he’s here more often than not. Still, I can see you don’t want to hear about my love life, how’s yours? That Buttercup girl you wrote to me about sounded nice. You didn’t really say why you broke up, maybe you could get back together?” She sounded hopeful.

“She did something I wasn’t comfortable with, mum,” said Max, sinking into his chair. He didn’t want to get into what Buttercup had done, and what he’d done to cover it up.

“In bed?” asked his mother, raising an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t be so uptight about that sort of thing. Do you know that before he met me, Martin hadn’t even...”

“No! No, nothing like that,” cried Max, desperately trying to stop his mother before he found out something that would mentally scar him for life. “It was something at court, something morally dubious.” Buttercup had been carrying out illegal treatments on her father to keep him well enough to continue working. Max couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be tempted to do the same if his mother wasn’t as healthy as she was.

“Oh, I suppose that’s a problem, then. It’s just she sounded like a nice match for you and, well, you know time is moving on and, well, grandfoals would be nice.” She gave a grin.

Max felt his face start to glow. It wasn’t something he’d put too much though into, really. “Well, um, there is somepony else I’m seeing.” He winced slightly. He hadn’t planned to bring up Fragrant like this.

“Oh, really? What’s she like?” asked Delivery leaning forwards excitedly.

“She’s very nice. She’s kind and wise and beautiful, powerful too. She’s the duchess of Cloudsdale.”

“Cloudsdale?” Early looked confused. “That’s one of the cloud cities, isn’t it?” Her face paled. “Oh Max, wings again?”

Max sighed. Why did his mother have to be like this? He loved her, but some of the things she came up with... “Yes, she is a pegasus, mother, just like Doctor House Martin is a unicorn.”

“Well, we’re not likely to have foals, not at my age! But think of your foals, Max! Poor feeble little mites probably hardly able to fly, if they have wings.”

“There is no evidence that the children of mixed tribe couples are any different from anypony else of their tribe!”

“No evidence! You remember Red Dawn over Sharpside way? Father a unicorn, mother an earth pony, he had all those terrible headaches! Magic it was, him without a horn, it just built up in his head, killed him it did!”

“Those headaches were nothing to do with his tribe, and he died because he got drunk and walked off the side of a mountain!”

“Because of his headaches! It’s just not right to mix the blood!”

Max rested his head on a hoof. “Look mum, can’t you just be happy for me? I really like Fragrant.”

Delivery sighed. “I suppose I can, Max, but I just thought you might find a nice earth pony mare to settle down with after what happened with Zephyr. That girl was nothing more than a gold digger, Max, I never liked her, and now she’s moved on to Piste...”

“Wait, what?” exclaimed Max, looking up.

“She’s dating Piste. Has been since just after you left. Didn’t he tell you?”

Max’s stomach dropped. Piste hadn’t told him anything about that. He supposed it was none of his business, but why was he keeping it secret? There couldn’t have been more behind his and Zephyr’s break up, could there? No, Piste was his best friend; he wouldn’t do something like that to him, would he? “No... no, he hasn’t mentioned it yet.”

“Well, she was quick enough to get her hooks into him once he was mayor,” continued Delivery. “I don’t think she even gave him a second glance before.”

“Zephyr’s not like that, mum. You know we broke up because my job was taking up too much of my time.”

“Well, Piste isn’t quite a driven as you are, Max. He’s not doing a bad job as mayor, mind, just maybe not quite as good as you did.” She sipped her tea again. “So how long are you staying?”

Max was glad of the change of topic. “Probably about two months, give or take. The court starts again then. It’ll give me time to deal with any issues here. Honeybun certainly seems angry.”

“Oh, her, just stirring up trouble,” said Delivery dismissively. “Her family and your father’s never got on. Her mother saw herself as a shoe-in for the mayorhood, you know. Never happened.”

Max frowned. He’d never heard of that before, and after he’d talked to Fragrant about stopping a feud between her family and Jet Stream’s here he was finding his family had the same problem. Leaning back in his chair, he gave a yawn. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I’m just getting used to being up during the day again. My body thinks I’ve been up all ‘night’.”

Delivery glanced out the window. “Well, it is getting late. Where are you staying?”

“Piste is putting me up in the town hall for the moment.” He wondered if that might be something to do with Piste and Zephyr's relationship. Did he want to keep Max away from his home? “I better be off for the night.” He clambered out of the chair.

“Well, sleep well, dear. I’ll see you in the morning,” said his mother, standing with difficulty, her lame leg wobbling a little.

“Night, mum,” said Max as he left the house. “It’s been good to see you again. I missed you.”

---

Despite how tired he felt, Max found it difficult to get to sleep that night. His body kept telling him he should be getting up rather than going to bed, and his mind kept running in circles over today’s events. He hadn’t expected to be hailed a returning hero, but he had expected a better reception. Was Honeybun right? Had he been failing Sadlzburg, not getting them enough help? He thought he’d done all he could, but could he have done better? He thought about Fragrant, Buttercup, Baron Fields, Fisher. Had they all just distracted him from doing his job? No, he couldn’t believe that.

Why hadn’t Piste told him about his relationship with Zephyr? Was he worried about how he would react? And how did he feel about it? It had been a while since their breakup; she could date who she wanted, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some jealousy there.

Max sighed and rolled over in bed. This really wasn’t the homecoming he’d been expecting.

Author's Note:

Thanks to RDD and G&C for their help.

And now with added editing from Mooncalf!

Comments as always are welcome.

Comments

[djthomp]

“I... I think I love your son,” she admitted.
Mrs G narrowed her eyes for a moment and looked the small mare up and down. “Well, I should hope so. Now, when were you planning on telling me you were pregnant?”

The sensory ability of old, wise goats like Mrs. G are scary. On a related note, Brian is definitely best goat.

Honeybun is going to be such a pain. Max really needs to get better at responding in a verbal debate like this, he was pretty solidly losing pretty much entirely on the weight of his stammering for answers and failing to come up with any.

“Those headaches were nothing to do with his tribe, and he died because he got drunk and walked off the side of a mountain!”

[RK_Striker_JK_5]

Any chance Honeybun could get punched, too? Please....

[Sleepy_The_Zebra]

Those headaches were nothing to do with his tribe

Inverted Horn?

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

Honeybun had been a perpetual thorn on (in) Max’s side in Sadlzburg during his time as mayor. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to annoy the local barmare, but she seemed to disagree with almost everything he did, and didn’t hesitate to tell anyone who came near what she was thinking. Given that she ran the only bar in town, that meant most of the town knew exactly what she thought on every issue. “What’s she been saying...” began Max.

“Ah, well, I guess I should probably head over to Hearth’s a (and) get a room. We should try and get as many of the town council together to have a meeting tonight.”