Casualty
Milk made good strong bones. There seemed to be no rhyme nor reason as to why these words flitted about Sundance's headspace, but they did, and even in the face of so much horror, they remained. Good strong bones. Yes, indeedy. Milk made for good strong bones. He rather wanted a cold glass of milk, perhaps chocolate, or banana, or possibly strawberry milk. In times of trouble, Officer Mom favoured strawberry milk, and Sundance, astute, knew there was trouble when his mother roamed the apartment with a foamy pink mustache.
For reasons unknown, strawberry milk tasted nothing like strawberries, but was rather citrusy.
The ogre's eyes were still open, still wide. What had he seen in those final moments? A creature of the forest, a monster, a predator, it was certain that the ogre knew nothing of comfort food—its face would never wear a pink mustache in times of trouble. The ogre was not civilised, and this was proof. Heaving, almost gasping, Sundance desperately wanted a bit of civilisation. Maybe the sound of traffic outside of a window. A tinny-sounding phonograph. The faint hum of the refrigerator. A radiator's ting-ping as it kept the cold at bay. These were things that were normal—things that were civilised—and they did not exist here in this wretched, forsaken place.
"Ladybug—"
"Yeah?" It seemed as though Hornet was eternally chipper.
"See what you can do about getting that peek-a-boo rib back inside for River. Patch her up a bit if you can."
"Can do! Will do!"
Megara's horrifying red mask had already begun to crust and scab over.
"Sundance… if you could come back to us—"
With a turn of his head, he gave the manticore a mute stare.
"—I'd like for you to have a look inside that cave. Be careful. Report what you find. Think you can do that, Sunshine?"
He failed to register that she had called him 'Sunshine' and not 'Sundance'.
Several attempts were made to respond; all of which were failures. His mouth was somehow too wet and too dry at the same time, just like it was right before he puked, like the time when he had the fidget flu. His cheeks were cramped, as if he'd eaten something sour. Nothing felt good, nor right. Everything felt wrong. Off, somehow. Unable to respond, with no words forthcoming, he nodded.
"Good. Good. Get to it, then. Should be safe, but be careful. No telling what might be in there…"
Treacherous ground kept Sundance cautious as he entered the dark, dank hole and the steep incline threatened a nasty tumble. Gravel crunched underhoof and the sharp flakes caused worry that the jagged edges might cut into the tender flesh of his frogs. There was a bad smell down here, something rotten with strong hints of decay. There were wagon wheels, planks, sacks, ruined rolls of fabric, and all manner of things there were now trash.
Sundance paused when he came to what could be described as a nook in the wall. It was a large space, a sort of natural shelf, and it was here that the ogre slept. At least, it looked like a bed. It was either a bed or a trash pile. Perhaps both. The bad smell was somehow worse than it was near the entrance. While he stood there considering the trash pile bed, Sundance wondered if the rain soaked everything this far down. Perhaps a driving rain might, with enough wind and wet. Sleeping in the nook would be a miserable experience.
Like a spring thaw, fear, shock, and revulsion retreated, allowing Sundance to think again.
Just past the sleeping nook, there was a pile of bones. Upon seeing them, multiple things happened at once. Firstly, Sundance realised that the gravel that crunched underhoof wasn't gravel at all, but bone chips. Secondly, he recalled all of the horrible descriptions in books about bones cracked open so that the marrow could be sucked and slurped out. Thirdly, the sheer number of bones threatened to steal away Sundance's ability to reason. Fourthly, these were pony bones, all of which were smashed, shattered, and gnawed upon, with many having very visible teeth-marks.
There were a lot of bones there in the pile. More bones than he cared to think about, or try to count, or to even attempt a guesstimation of an accurate number. How long, he found himself asking. Months? Years? Some of the bones appeared old and dry, while others seemed fresher and still had some colour to them. Perhaps worst of all, some of the bones were small, but recognisable, and made him think of the little ones left in his care. Some of the tiny, slender ribs probably made fine toothpicks.
Distraught, disturbed, he whinnied once, a second time, but the third came out as a muted groan. Such was his state of fixation that he forgot to blink, and stood there, transfixed, until his eyes began to sting and water. When he finally did blink, he also swallowed, and a painful lump in his throat refused to go down.
"This is why you don't apologise to ogres."
The muffled crunch of the litter on the floor caused tingles to run rampant up and down Sundance's spine as Megara moved to stand close beside him. One heavy paw came to rest upon his neck and he could feel her hot breath upon his ear. Eyes wide, pupils enlarged in the faint light, the windows to Sundance's soul allowed the awful image just in front of him to have direct access to his brain.
Even as he started to say the words, he thought about what Argyle Ascot had said to him when he asked Megara, "Is this my fault?"
His voice sounded like a rusty nail being yanked from a half-rotten plank.
When he finally closed his eyes and started to turn away, he felt her grip on his neck tighten. There would be no turning away, and when he opened his eyes again, hot bile seared the depths of his throat. Argyle Ascot's words echoed in his ears, all about how a pony in charge was responsible for all that happened under his watch. When he shifted, squirming, bone chips scraped beneath his hooves. Megara's paw was still heavy upon his neck, and her grip was like unforgiving iron.
"Is this my fault?" he asked again; mid-sentence, his voice cracked and became shrill.
"No." Megara's cold response offered no reassurance, no much-needed warmth. "No, this isn't your fault. This is just something that happens. But… this is your motivation to do better."
"I'm pretty sure this is my fault," he said, almost whispering as if he were offering a confession to some terrible sin.
"It's not," she said, and this time her words had a faint warmth to them, like the austere heat offered by a lit candle. "Sometimes, a monster decides to come ashore and invades one of Equestria's coastal cities. Manehattan has been destroyed and rebuilt many times. Canterlot, the capital of our nation, has been under siege for years. Squatters come and carve out a living on dangerous, wild, unsettled land. Life will always be risky, no matter what. If the Royal Pony Sisters can't offer perfect and total safety, then neither can you. And that goes for Sumac and Pebble, too. They have trouble with this as well."
These words offered no comfort, but Sundance was still glad to hear them. Megara's words were somewhat slurred when spoken through her injured, swollen lips. She was hurt, yet seemed no worse for wear. This was probably just another day on the job for her, another bloody conflict in the wilds of Equestria. But for Sundance… this day was something else, a day he would never forget. The sight of the bones would haunt him.
"How do I—" His voice cracked, turned high pitched, and then trailed off in an ear-pricking squeak.
"Make this better?" The manticoress shook her head and crusty red flakes fell from her face, like peeling rust or falling snow. "You don't. You can't. How do you stop this from happening? Well, you take preventative measures and you do what you can. In time, I'm confident that you'll do just that… mostly because what you're seeing right now will keep you up at night, and for want of a better night's sleep, you'll do what lords and ladies do. You'll use your power and your influence to try and smooth over your conscience by doing the right thing." She paused, then added, "Well, good lords and ladies, I guess. Some don't care. Some sleep in their luxurious bedrooms, unconcerned by such grim goings-on."
This wasn't the comfort that Sundance craved, but he wasn't about to discard it.
"I also think that in the future, you'll be less likely to apologise to ogres. Maybe a bit better with your aim. I think a lot of things will happen… but there is one thing I know for certain and—"
"And that is?" asked Sundance.
"I don't think you'll quit. Not now. Not ever. Once the shock wears off, and it will, you'll be angry. Angry. This ogre, he came into your territory. Maybe it's tribalist to say, but pegasus ponies are viciously territorial. Even Fluttershy, Equestria's Element of Kindness, can be a nightmarish terror if you hurt something she considers 'hers'. You don't go into her neck of the woods and molest her bunnies and her bears. Let me tell you, I'd rather face one-hundred angry, hungry ogres than one peeved Fluttershy. Sooner or later, you'll be angry, and what righteous anger it will be… righteously indignant… and that, that's something I can work with. Once we have that, I will make you great."
"Are you, uh, sure about this?" he asked, doubtful.
"Absolutely positive," she replied in warm tones that thawed his frozen state. "You're already building a huge nest. An absolutely huge nest—"
"I am?"
"You are. A castle is just a really big nest. But it's made from stones instead of twigs. Everything you care about is kept safe in that nest. It's all yours. And now you've gotta defend that nest. And you will. I'll help you. See, I understand nature. Natures. A nest comes with territory. Come on, Sunshine. Let's get out of this hole. We've got a lot to do while there is still daylight."
"We do?"
"Yeah, Sunshine, we do." She squeezed his neck, and then began to gently rub the tense, knotted muscles just below his skull. "Come on… let's get you back out into the sunshine where you belong, Sunshine. You've moped in this hole long enough."
The Sundance that came up from the hole was not the same Sundance that had gone into the hole. That particular Sundance—a version of himself that apologised to ogres—was no more. It was left down there in the gloom, posted to an eternal vigil to keep watch over the ruined remains of the ogre's victims. As much as it was a vital part of Sundance, it simply could not survive this encounter, and so the hole was now its grave, a place of internment just as it was for so many others.
On occasion, good things withered in the face of incomprehensible, existential indifference.
It might be said that Sundance was now finally an adult, but this was not the case. His life was such that he was an adult long before his peers, forced as he was to deal with the sort of issues where one had to surrender one's youth in order to have a mature perspective. This new version of Sundance had but one little change, one that might otherwise go unnoticed by most.
His heart, an organ of tender decency, suffered an injury, and this wound left behind a callus. A thickened, hardened place. Such things were commonplace in the world, entirely too common by the estimation of some, so it was an injury that would largely go unnoticed. Just one more injured heart among so many others. But for those that knew his heart, for those who treasured his compassion, it was a grievous loss, for such was the elusive rarity of compassion without reservation.
A tiny bump, a jostle, the merest collision, the slightest application of friction… that was all it took.
"We gotta turn this cave into an oven. A kiln."
"We… what?" River Raider, seemingly no worse for wear, blinked her eyes and then turned her best blank stare upon the bossy manticore. "I hope we're not cookin' what I think we're cooking. Lunch? No thanks."
"The ogre was a worthy foe. A hated enemy, perhaps… but also a worthy foe. We'll not just leave him here to rot. So into the cave he goes, and we'll pack it full of wood, and then we'll set it ablaze, and hopefully we won't burn down the entire forest when we give the dead their due. We might be killers, but we're not murderers. The dead deserve our respect."
"Meg, if you expect me to bury that ogre with—"
"You'll do it… or else." Wings twitching, Megara still oozed blood from dozens of wounds, rips, and tears. "We can't always save an enemy from themselves, but what we can do is do right by the dead. For them, the fight is over, and animosity ends. We're obligated to do right by them. And we will."
"Ugh, I don't wanna—"
"And we will," Megara said, repeating herself, but now with threatening intent.
"Fine!" River Raider spat out the word and then her face contorted in such a way that it was obvious that her spoken word did not agree with her. Then, still scowling, she turned her full attention upon Sundance. "Are you alright?" Her tone softened, but was still a raspy growl. "You're not alright."
"I'll get better," he said, both touched by her concern and impressed that her mood could shift so suddenly.
"No"—she shook her head and her eyes were sad—"you won't. You're more like us now. Not sure I like that."
He shrugged, unsure of how else to respond. "It had to happen. I'll be fine. Just need some time to sort things out."
"This is your fault," the bat-winged mare hissed to the manticore.
"You piss off, you—"
"Can we please not fight amongst ourselves?" Somehow, almost miraculously, Sundance's soft-spoken words cut right through the noise and silenced his companions. He gestured at the dead ogre with a raised right hoof. "Would somepony please show a little decency and close his eyes? We have work to do and daylight is in short supply. I don't want to spend a night in the wild, so can we please do what needs done so we can go home?"
Both Megara and River Raider stared at him in the most peculiar way.
"I'm not going to ask again," he said, his voice still soft and almost a whisper.
"Right!" Hornet zoomed in to do what needed done. "Eyes closed!"
The fight had only lasted for mere moments, minutes at the most. Filling up the makeshift charnel pit took considerably longer. Every stick, every twig, every fallen tree and log that could be found, all were dragged to the cave and tossed in. Megara worked tirelessly, never once complaining about her injuries or the sad state of her face. It was easy to admire her; she was strong, with legendary endurance, and her desire to do right kept her motivated.
Everything in the scrap pile—including the ogre's makeshift club—had already been tossed into the hole. Sundance stood watching; he wasn't of much use here and it made him feel awful. Hornet had magic and Megara had strength. As for River Raider, she wasn't doing much of anything either, other than twisting her head from side to side, no doubt trying to work that annoying crick out of her neck.
When she moved closer to him, Sundance was quite surprised.
"She's right, you know."
"Hmm?" His response wasn't quite a word.
"The ogre is dead. We should respect his body… even if he wouldn't've respected ours. That's what makes us better than the ogre, Sundance. I was just… angry. Still am, I suppose. I get hot-blooded in fights. Look, what I'm trying to say is, don't learn bad habits from me. Learn to fight… that's good, I guess… but don't lose what makes you, well, you. What you saw in the cave… that's gonna stay with you. If I were a Warden, and had all the training and skill, I might be able to smooth that out for you. Heal the mind… Wardens are good at fixing trauma. Well, some of them. But I ain't no Warden. I can use my mind to scramble the brains of others and make them have strokes though."
She grunted.
"But I don't like it. I can't separate my mind from theirs and so I feel everything that they do. I do it sometimes when I'm hunting. Just cause a massive stroke and my prey falls over dead. I can feel everything that makes them, well, them just slipping away into oblivion and it unnerves me every time. Maybe that's what makes me different. I can't shield myself from the pain I inflict on others, so I'm peculiar about it. You know, I don't even know why I am even talking about this. This was supposed to be about you. You went into that cave and you came out funny and now I'm worried."
"You're worried about me? That's incredibly—"
"I can still rip your head off, you know. Don't ruin this."
"Uh, right."
"I've come to depend on your mind, Sundance. It is mostly decent and wholesome. Mostly. Better than most, anyhow. There's not a lot of shadow in there. It's precious to me… means something. You mean something… and I don't want that ruined by… well, fights like this one and you seeing what you saw in the ogre's den. Look, the only reason why I care is because I'm selfish, and this makes me feel better. It's all about me, me, me. So… watch yourself. For my sake."
When he sidestepped to be closer to her, she growled at him until he retreated.
A smoggy Tartarian glow could be seen down deep in the cave, which now seemed to be a live portal to the underworld. Struck by sudden and sneaky superstition, Sundance kept his distance, lest he be dragged away to that awful place. He had, after all, put a javelin into an ogre's brain, and he just wasn't fine with that. Already, the guilt bore down upon him, guilt and so much more. Argyle Ascot's words about responsibility haunted him, and Sundance half expected the spirits of the dead to rise up out of the flaming Tartarian gate.
"I think the ogre's fat is starting to render," Megara said with the sort of casual disinterest that one typically reserved for mentioning the weather, or time of day. "That'll help things burn a bit hotter."
"It's kinda awful that you've done this enough to know that," River Raider remarked.
"Why's that matter to you?" asked Megara. "Going soft, River?"
"Well, 'cause it bothers Sundance, I think."
Hypnotised by the lapping tongues of flame that rose up from the depths, Sundance had nothing to say. He kept his distance, from both the Tartarian maw and from the others. The smoke changed, becoming greasy, black, and befouled. It rose in a billowing pillar, and escaped through the treetops into the vivid blue sky. Though he tried to shield his eyes, he saw faces in the smoke—at least he thought he did. Equine faces contorted in terror and hopelessness.
No matter what, a leader was responsible, Argyle had said.
He held himself responsible for Sparrowhawk's misfortunes and everything that took place in poorly-named Peaceful Pastures Asylum—and Sundance could do no less. Somehow, he would have to do better. Be better. If he didn't hold himself to a higher standard, who would? The previous Milord had no standard at all, at least from what Sundance had gathered. And some nobles had the wrong standards altogether, worrying about their own safety, comfort, and state of being.
Even as he backed away from the smoke-belching maw, Sundance held himself to the fire.
Roiling smoke languidly rose up into the sky and a great heat shifted the local currents. Though distracted, Sundance felt the shift in the winds and the sky's reaction intruded upon his mind. More curiously though was not what he sensed from above, but rather, from down below. Without knowing how he knew, he still somehow knew that the land here was being purified in some way. Ponies—earth ponies especially—where connected to the land in strange, unfathomable ways. For them to know violence, death, and loss, it left something behind.
Sundance could feel that now. The full awareness of it hit him with terrific force. Megara's mindfulness of the dead was like scrubbing away a stain left in the carpet. Though still saddened and overwhelmed by all that had occurred, he felt a powerful sense of relief—a feeling that would sustain him and carry him through these troubled times. He felt it now and it felt as though something had awakened within him, something profound—
"I too, have had an awakening," Hornet said to him, jarring him from his thoughts.
"Sorry?" he managed to say while all of his complicated thoughts suffered a catastrophic collapse.
"An awakening," Hornet said. "Like you, I've had an awakening."
"I don't follow," he said without stammering somehow, for such was his current state of confusion.
"Changelings don't get marks… destiny brands that set us apart as individuals. No, we changelings have awakenings. Something that strengthens our bonds with the Collective. We awaken to our greater shared purpose. My awakening was feared by many… perhaps for good reason. But today, I have awakened… and I am no longer afraid."
"I'm lost." Eyes watering, Sundance retreated from the smoke after the wind changed direction. He moved away from the burning grave, and closer to Hornet.
"It was of great concern that my awakening would overwhelm me with evil," Hornet said to her companions in a low voice that had an almost insectoid drone quality to it. "I was something akin to a warrior drone… even though that part of us was intentionally diminished. An anomaly. Something that would go away perhaps with future generations. A dark reminder of our past… while the Collective loves me, it also fears me and what I represent."
As was so often the case in these matters, Sundance listened with rapt attention.
"Thousands of warriors with the experiences of thousands of years all cried out to me today, and I heard their voices with great clarity. No changeling is ever truly gone. Our bodies might die, but all that we've learned, the sum of our experiences, everything that we are that makes us what we are… all of that remains with the Collective. And we survivors, we fear it. We fear that the Collective will somehow overwhelm us and return us to evil. So we are mindful, and live in terror of what we once were."
"And that right there is why I hate changelings," River Raider said, muttering in a half-whisper.
Hornet offered no response.
"When the Sims had their awakening, it was a time of great fear for all of us. They were leaders. Meant to rule. All of us, each and every one of us, we all shared the same terror that our former queen might somehow reach through the Collective and seize control of their minds. That they might somehow become evil. Such was our fear that the Sim siblings were prepared to obliterate themselves for our greater good. We feared that our past might infect us.
"But the Sims showed no signs of our former queen's malice. None of her evil. None of her cruelty. We didn't take it as a sign that we were safe though… we redoubled our vigilance and concluded that the attack from within could come from any one of us… including myself. I was hatched to be violent. To commit violence. To bring harm to others. It has caused much consternation for us all.
"I have had my awakening, and I don't seem to be evil… though a part of me is worried that the evil is somehow hiding itself. That I've changed without realising it. I feel good. Great even. But I can't seem to enjoy myself because of all my fears. I can feel the thoughts of so many warriors in my mind… drones purposefully designed by our former queen to possess fantastic cruelty, a thirst for blood, and an all-consuming need for violence. I can even feel the thoughts of Queen Chrysalis herself. She's in here, even now.
"Not her though… she's cut off from the Collective. But the echoes of what she once was. No changeling is ever truly gone. I can sense her cunning… her intelligence… all of the things that made her both great and terrible. Will she spring up out of me like a lurking monster waiting for inattentive prey? What am I now? Am I a danger?" She shook her head from side to side. "What will become of me?"
"Look"—River Raider's voice was more of a growl or a grunt—"I don't think you need to worry. I'm not saying for you to relax your guard, but you don't need to worry. You and Sundance, you're both cut from the same cloth. You both share a downright disgusting sense of goodness and you hold yourself to impossible standards. You both live in fear of what you'll become if you don't hold yourself accountable. I didn't want to like you, but I've found myself doing so against my own better judgment. You and Sundance both… you just don't have what it takes to be 'mwahahaha villainous evil' and I don't think you ever will."
"That's the nicest thing that has ever been said to me," Hornet replied.
"I dunno, great evil can be done with good intentions—"
"Meg… shut up! Don't make this complicated. For the sake of the Night Lady… just… keep that to yourself. I'm aware of that… perhaps more than anypony here. I see into the minds of everything around me and I know all about the evils of good intentions. I was trying to be reassuring and the first thing you do is re-introduce doubt… gah, just shuddup sometimes."
Whiskers quivering, the chastised manticore did not respond.
"I didn't think I'd ever find a pony that I like being around… as for changelings, the less said about them, the better. But I find myself in the company of a tolerable pony and a likeable bug. I wasn't prepared for this kind of weirdness in my life, but here I am. And my kind… don't even get me started on my kind. We're supposed to be paragons. Lemme tell you, we're not. We're even more of a danger than your overbearing Collective. We probably shouldn't exist. Yet, here we are. And here I am. And today was a pretty good day, all things considered… and I was absolutely certain that I would not enjoy myself today. Though I do have a bit of a headache after being clobbered and hitting that tree. That part kinda sucked. Shame about the tree, but it got in the way."
"Yeah… shame about, the uh, tree." Though he wanted to say more, Sundance did not.
"When I was a filly, I watched a rampaging dragon pick up one of my kind and it hurled him through the stone guard tower, which collapsed on top of him. He was concussed, and had a few broken bones, but he made a full recovery. That was when I knew that I was different from other living creatures, and I started to think that my kind were mistakes."
"I still go back and forth on if we should exist," Hornet said to River Raider. "The Collective makes us who and what we are, but who and what we are has been rather evil for a very long time. What if the Collective is tainted somehow? How do we fix it? Should we exist? Scary questions. So many scary questions."
"My kind are unstoppable juggernauts… and we're supposed to be the noble defenders of small, squishy, rather helpless ponies who die from trivial things like infections, blood loss, and trauma. If ponies knew the truth about my kind… what we're really like on the inside… they wouldn't trust us at all. Not that they trust us to begin with. Little ponies are scared of everything, including their own shadows."
"I'm not scared of you," Sundance said, and he hoped this was true.
"Bah, you should be. If you had any idea of how many times I've thought about eating you, you'd be scared."
"You've thought about eating me?" he asked.
"Can't help it. It happens. You move in some weird way, or you show off your meaty bits, and the thought crosses my mind."
"But you get annoyed at me for things that go through my mind that I can't control," he said, "such as my, uh, attraction for you."
"Shuddap," she snapped.
"Right. Shutting up. We'll talk about this later."
"No, we won't. We'll talk about this never. Forget I said anything."
"If you did bite me, I'd be very understanding—"
"Damn you… don't do this to me. Not now, not ever. That's the worst part about you… you're not even lying!" Heaving a snort, River Raider stormed off and stomped away.
"She'll be fine," Hornet said to Sundance, who watched as River Raider retreated. "You know, it's comforting how she said that we were cut from the same cloth… you and I, we can hold each other accountable…"
A lot happens here. This chapter almost got split in two, but I couldn't find a good place to make the break. A lot of discussion about this chapter on the Discord, and astute readers picked up on little hidden details that I worried would be missed.
Covid check in. How's everybody doing? Ya holding up? Protect ya neck, folks. Wanna hear a bad joke? "No one cared who I was until I took off the mask." 
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Good on ya Sundance. You found out one of your friends has a thing for vore AND she thinks you look tasty and you didn't shy away.
Covid death rates dropping like a anvil in a cartoon, fortunally.
Unfortunally some political forces are disapointed with that. Chaos and fear are great for then, it seems.
Despite that, we're still in partial lockdown (if there is such thing) and work routine is far from normal. Bills are coming...and I need to work.
Only by God's mercy we managed to go through the worst of it without loosing our house, car and medical assistence.
Be well.
Riverdance My new favorite ship.
Or is it Sunraider?
Haven't worn a mask ever.
Rona's a political tool.
It's dead like 50% of the populations brains.
Chance for survival 99%+
15 Down votes ? What a bunch of cowardly sheep or you hate shipping - sad bunch you are
this is a amazing chapter i am vary happy that you did not split it.
yes there is some much happening in this chapter but it all needed to be in one chapter.
you have a real talent for telling a story as it should be told.
Innuendo is fun
When a good stallion goes cold and quiet, even monsters obey his orders.
He learned a hard lesson, one needed, but hard nonetheless.
Am I the only one kinda rooting for Hornet and him to hook up?
Meg is too much, no matter his proclivities, she'd kill him accidentally.
River could never stay out of his head, a relationship wouldn't survive her abilities, not alone anyway.
Hornet though....she presents possibilities.
Feel free to delete this if I hit too close to home and accidentally spoil something you wanted to surprise us with.
I got some very “Luke and the cave” vibes here. Acurate?
Many lessons were learned this day, including that goodness is infectious. Good times
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Demons run when a good man goed to war.
10439788 10439959
Oh that my Pow'r to Saving were confin’d:
Why am I forc’d, like Heav’n, against my mind,
To make Examples of another Kind?
Must I at length the Sword of Justice draw?
Oh curst Effects of necessary Law!
How ill my Fear they by my Mercy scan,
Beware the Fury of a Patient Man.
—John Dryden
“There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.”
—Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear (2011)
I just absolutely loved Sundance flirting with literal disaster. Keep hitting your yeah against the door, buddy. Either the door will give or your skull will.
I really enjoyed this chapter. In particular I really liked and appreciated the revelations Sundance and Hornet had and how they unspooled in parallel. I'm also really enjoying Hornet as a character. I like how the relationship between Sundance and Meg is developing as mentor/mentee. Sundance and River's friendship is interesting as well and I think it's wonderful she's getting friends who can help her. This was a great moment of growth and loss for Sundance. I would like to think his essential Celestia-ness will continue to shine through, but even Celestia has some of these wounds, I think.
I know these past chapters have been fighting you but they turned out very well in the end! After the hectic fracas of the battle comes the silence and the space for epiphany. This was some really good, good stuff. Thank you for sharing it with us :D
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That is awesome
Ain't that the damn truth.
This was heavy...far more than I was expecting.
REALLY good, but geeze.
Today I had a light day and almost entirely free of school stuff which was nice. I had a rough wake up, but found out my Group Project is far ahead of schedule.
Though I will say that I have been extra weepy lately. Just feeling like a kind of sadness for regrets and things that should have been, but never were. An the worst part is, I can't tell if some Great Realization is causing this or if this is caused by my high estrogen levels. Which can cause random bouts of crying, which is a thing that can happen. That or maybe I'm breaking down mentally, because I'm becoming Touch Starved again.
Stressed because I have big things coming up, but fairly confident I'll be able to pull through in time.
An been having a lovely time playing Phantasy Star Online 2.
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Honestly, it's been the same with my family as well. Only by God's Grace are we managing to pull through. Frankly it feels like God is always meeting our needs and sometimes our wants. Our rent increases by $1.2k a year, every year, including now! We always wonder how we will survive when we struggled the previous years, yet we keep on going. Fortunately we haven't had to move and we haven't been even CLOSE to homeless yet. Thank The Lord! <3
I hope that God will continue to bestow His kindness and mercy upon you and yours.
Also considering that this is magic pony land, it seems like a good way to prevent a problem. Like a resurrected zombie ogre or something.
I like Hornet.
5 by 5 and still alive