Not All Who Wander

by Trinary

Chapter 2

The sun was already starting to lower by the time we set out. Good thing too, since nothing drained you faster than walking with the sun beating down. Trouble was, that made things a might harder to see, not to mention plenty of things that came out at night weren’t none too friendly—and I don’t mean Granny Smith when she sleepwalks.

Speaking of not speaking, Zecora wasn’t exactly the most personable travel companion. In the last hour and a half of travel, she rivaled Big Macintosh in how little she said. That wasn’t too big a problem since my family always said I spoke enough for two. Thing is though, if you’re traveling with someone through bad terrain, you gotta know you have each other’s back. Trust comes hard when it’s a struggle to get your partner to say more than two sentences to you.

I was never too big on silence myself. It just felt so … oppressive. Weighing down on you, the awkward waiting for somepony to fill the void—I’d always hated it.

I was hard at work, trying to think of a way to get her to open up to me. Without really being aware of it, I started to hum—just a little, something to fill in the silence. I didn’t even realize it when I started whistling. Before long I was thinking of this jaunty little tune I heard once and, well…

“Is it typical for ponies to break into song and dance?” Zecora asked me, a slight smirk on her lips as I froze, only then realizing that I’d been dancing around and shaking my tail. “Or have you some other reason to whinny and prance?”

Well … shoot. Just glad cousin Applejack wasn’t here to see this or I’d never hear the end of it. “Um, well y’see … the thing is—” I had nothing. “Just … a music lover.” I forced myself to grin. “Don’t y’all do anything like that where you’re from?”

She nodded. “It’s true, zebras are fond of good music and songs to please the ear.” I nodded, feeling relieved. Then she let out a small whicker and added, “Though we typically have a reason before we shake our rear.”

My face heated. Sweet Celestia, take me now… “Er, well, why don’t you tell me more about where you’re from?” I was grasping and I’m sure she knew it. On the other hoof, I had gotten her to open up more than she had in the entire time I had known her. That was progress, right?

I guess she took pity on me. “I really do not have very much to tell. My home lies far away from where I now dwell. I doubt you’ve ever seen a savanna’s plains, which makes it somewhat hard to explain.”

“Shoot, try me!” I leaned in a bit. “It’s always interesting hearing ‘bout new places. I mean, you must feel the same way or you wouldn’t be here, am I right?”

I guess I managed to surprise her, judging by her expression. “You can indeed say that, albeit after a fashion. It was the urge to study that stirred my passion.” She looked away. “So eager was I to learn, and so very restless. From that day to this, I’ve hardly stirred less.”

Wow. I tried thinking about how far she must’ve traveled and, well, it boggled the mind. I was well and truly boggled. “And you came all this way all on your own? I imagine that must’ve gotten lonely.” I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything, but it didn’t even seem to faze her any.

She gave me a noncommittal shrug. “I suppose it’s all in what you make of it. I find privacy to be a good fit.” I guess I should’ve been relieved I didn’t make her feel sad by reminding her she was alone out here … but the more I thought about, the fact that it didn’t even seem to bother her was sad on a whole ‘nother level.

Zecora looked around and sniffed, tasting the air. “It is certainly a dry place we are in. Are you sure there is enough water in the tin?”

I had checked the canteens before we set out, but didn’t begrudge her for worrying. ‘Powerful hot’ and ‘powerful dry’ were only the mildest words used to describe the badlands. I took the canteen out of my saddle bag and sloshed it around. “All good!”

She didn’t look terribly reassured. She just pawed at the ground for a moment and looked glumly at the shallow hole she dug. Without even looking back at me, she explained what she was doing before I could ask. “Where I come from, you can always find water just beneath the ground. Here there is nothing … not for miles around.”

The place was a bit on the dry side, no arguments there. I thought for a moment what it’d be like, being in someplace so different from where you grew up. I knew that I wouldn’t like it if I was plunked down in the frozen north. We tried selling frozen apples as a side-treat, even set up a stand for ‘em. It … didn’t turn out well. Made the local dentist powerful happy, though.

I walked over and offered her my sympathy. “I’m sorry. These lands ain’t exactly known for being hospitable to ponies, much less zebras.”

Zecora shook her head and squared her shoulders. “There is nothing for it but to go straight on through. Still, I think I’ll have a drink before I do.”

“You might want to hold off on that for a while.” I stepped back, patting my saddlebags meaningfully. “Can’t exactly stop over and fill these up again. If you’re thirsty, I know a trick that’ll help.” Seeing that I got her attention, I took out a small, smooth stone that I carried with me. I popped it in my mouth and began to suck on it. It wasn’t a caramel apple, but it did the trick of keeping your mouth from drying out.

Zecora got the idea and started casting about to find one of her own. I offered her mine but for some reason she didn’t seem to want it. We went on a ways further before I spoke up again. “So, what is it you need to find Iktomi for?”

“That is a matter too big for me to readily tell.” She frowned. “You best focus on the trek and ensure all’s well.”

That stung. Here I thought I was getting her to open up a bit, and now she was clamping down all of a sudden. I let it go, but that didn’t stop the heavy weight I felt in my gut. I blinked and double-checked. Whew. Thought for a moment I might’ve swallowed my rock. That would’ve made things unpleasant later.

We went on for a while longer when the wind began to pick up. Came all of a sudden, too. I felt my mane and tail whip about as sand and dust started to blow in my face. I winced and pulled the brim of my hat down. I was about to shout a warning to Zecora, but I had already ended up with one mouthful of dust today and didn’t need a second. My vision was blurry, but I managed to make out Zecora covering her face with her hood.

It’s hard for some ponies to imagine dust being all that harmful ‘less it gets into your eyes, but when the wind really gets going, then even tiny grains of dust can hurt like the dickens when it whips into your flank. We tried to force our way through, but it was like walking through hardening cement. The wind was howling all around us, so much that we couldn’t even hear ourselves. After a few painful moments, I realized the wind was actually howling.

“Dust Devil!” I shouted hoarsely at Zecora. They were nasty little critters—think of a living mini-hurricane made up of fast-moving wind and dust and you had the basic idea. We must’ve run into one—or two or three. Was honestly hard to tell with them. Now, I know what you’re about to say, that doesn’t sound so scary. So it kicks up a little sand in your face, what’s the big deal? Thing is, they can whip dust through the air so fast that it can actually flay the flesh from your bones. And if you ended up breathing some of in—yeah, pleasant image, isn’t it?

I wasn’t looking to leave behind a handsome set of bones just yet, so I closed my eyes and started bucking and kicking about. Being made of air, there wasn’t much I could do to them physically. It isn’t easy fighting a bag of hot air. Kind of like what happens when them Flim-Flam Brothers showed up that one time, only Dust Devils can’t get run out of town by the sheriff.

I stumbled and ended up bumping into Zecora. I risked opening my eyes a bit just in time to see her making a move. She reached down under her cloak and pulled out a long staff she had resting on her back. She began spinning it around with such swiftness that it actually cleared the air a bit. We took big heaping breaths, grateful for the reprieve. But that couldn’t hold it—them?—off for long.

How did you get rid of puff of air and dust? Short of a fan or vacuum or somepony with really strong lungs, I couldn’t think of anything. I wished Cousin Applejack was here—maybe that’s why she was the adventurer and I was just the simple farmer.

My eyes were aching and every time I moved I could feel the cuts in my skin the Dust Devil had made. My throat was parched and I wanted nothing more than to have a nice cold drink of—“That’s it!” I shouted. Well, more like croaked, but what’s important is that I had an idea. I dug the canteens out my saddlebags—which promptly fell apart, already half-torn to shreds. But there wasn’t much point worrying about that. I opened the cap and started sloshing the water about all around us.

Ever see what happens when sand gets wet? It starts to clump together and that’s what happened to the Dust Devil. Its wind just sucked the water up inside it and soon the amount of sand and dust in the air began to lessen. Granted, it wasn’t that much and there was always more they could’ve picked up from the ground. But the very sight of water tended to spook the little dickens and it had no way to know just how much water we had around. I guess feeling its inside get all clumpy was enough to get it to think twice.

Not that we were about to idly wait for it to muster up its nerve again. “RUN!” I hollered, though I really didn’t need to. Without waiting another moment, Zecora and I both started to run for it at the same time. We ran across the plain, swerving around the occasional outcrop or cactus, not stopping for nothing. My throat was sore when we started and after a few minutes it was burning for a drink. Zecora’s breathing was also more than a mite raspy.

Mustering my nerve, I looked backwards to see if the Dust Devil was giving chase—and was relieved to see that we had left him, heh, in the dust. That certainly brightened my mood!

That’s when I fell into the riverbed and blacked out.

---

The next thing I remembered was staring up at Zecora, the clear blue sky bracketing her face. “Can you hear me? Do you understand?” Her voice sounded oddly muffled. “I don’t want you to have damaged your brain pan.”

I groaned, my head throbbing. “Y-yeah, I hear you.” I feebly tried to sit up, only to promptly regret it when a wave of nausea left me seeing stars. “Whoo, my head hasn’t hurt this much since that time me and Big Mac broke into the hard cider.”

Zecora let out what I hoped was a relieved sigh. “I am glad to hear you can still make a joke. Stay still while I give you a poke.”

“Beg pardon?” I blinked.

“I need to check that you have not broken anything,” she clarified. “If need be, I can always put your leg in a sling.”

I gave my limbs a quick check. “Nothing feels broken. Sore, but that’s what you get when you take a nasty tumble. Not my first one though.”

“Somehow, I do not find that much of a shock,” Zecora muttered as she went through her own saddlebags, now tattered and torn thanks to the Dust Devil attack. “I suppose it’s a small miracle you didn’t land on a rock.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been bad.” I agreed amiably as I tested my neck. No major strain there. “I think I’m mostly in one piece.”

She clucked her tongue. “Yes, but that piece is bruised and battered.” She prodded one cut that the Dust Devil had made right across my ribs, making me stiffen with pain. “Or did you think that this didn’t matter?”

“You’ve made your point,” I groaned out, still forcing myself to smile. “I’m sure, you have an idea of what to do.”

Zecora sighed unhappily. “That I do, but it will come with a great cost.” She held up a canteen. “This is our last one, the others were lost.” She uncapped it and carefully dampened a cloth in it before using it to clean out the dirt and dust in my wounds. I did my best not to flinch. A stallion has his pride, after all. Somehow, I don’t think I impressed her much though. My vest had provided a little protection, but not as much as Zecora’s cloak. Excepting her legs, she’d gotten out of the Dust Devil imbroglio in a lot better shape than I had. Made me start to wonder about getting a nice duster or something.

Course, that train of thought came to an abrupt end when she started dabbing my wounds with some foul smelling, and stinging, concoction. “Ow! Give a feller some warning next time!”

Zecora snorted and rolled her eyes, muttering something in her own language. If I had to guess, she probably said something along the lines of “Stallions!”

I got as comfortable as I could and let her work. She smeared some salve over me and slapped bits of squared patches over them. By the time she was finished I figured I looked like some fancy Canterlot collector’s private art piece—the kind that’s a total mess but nopony has the nerve to admit it. Still, the ointments and balms and what-not were cool and soothing. Given the heat, it might’ve even been worth getting dinged up just for that. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. Where’d you learn your healing from? You could teach ol’ Sawbones in Appleloosa a thing or three about healing folks.” Not to mention having a better bedside manner. And a lighter touch. And warmer hooves. And much prettier. And … might be worth asking Zecora if she’d like to stay on as our new doctor.

Zecora packed her things away with a slight dip of her head. “I cannot claim any great skill in the healing arts. More that of the skills I learned, it was a component part.”

“Shewt, if that’s just part of what you learned, I’d love to see what you majored in!” I tentatively got back on my hooves, the pain almost completely dulled. “So where did you pick that up?”

She hesitated and wondered if maybe I’d been too nosey, but I guess patching my sorry flank had warmed her up to me a bit. “There many races who inhabit my home’s savannahs and plains. Each of them had their own cultures and traditions of the arcane.” Her expression took on a faraway look, the kind some folks get when they think about home. “They had their own unique skills, and so I thought, ‘Why not bring them together, to see what would be wrought?’”

Whoa. I knew there were other kinds of magic out there than besides unicorn magic, but the idea of learning all them different kinds and mixing them together? It’d be like making pie out of a whole bunch of different types of apples. Sounded pretty good, now that I thought about it.

I didn’t know the first thing about magic myself. Me and my kin have always been a bit weighed on the earth pony traditionalist side of things, if’n you can imagine that. I didn’t quite have the suspicious attitude towards it that Granny Smith would, but I reckoned that experimenting on her own must be dangerous. But it didn’t look like she’d blown off her own eyebrows or anything—that happened to Cousin Moonshine when he tried his own hoof brewing up his own ‘special’ kinda cider. She must be even better than I had figured, and all this without even having a horn! Just goes to show you, anypo—er, anyone, can do anything if they work hard and put their all into it.

But that got me to thinking, “Is that why you came up to Equestria, to learn more kinds of magic?” Zecora paused, then briefly nodded. “I can understand that.” I gestured broadly. “Much as I love Equestria, I always felt something pulling me away from the familiar farms my family ran. I wanted to be out here, on the frontier where everything was new. I suppose I wanted to make my mark, set down some roots of my own instead of just plowing somepony else’s field, y’know?”

She nodded and gave me a different kind of look, like she was seeing me for the first time. Then she turned to pack up her supplies. I gave my shoulders a roll and my head didn’t feel like it was gonna fall off. Figured that meant we were ready to travel.

Excepting for one problem: I lost my saddlebag and all my supplies during the Dust Devil attack. Zecora’s own bags weren’t looking too good either. We’d lost about half of our supplies and used up all of our water smack dab in the middle of the Badlands. There were worse situations to be in, but I couldn’t think of all that many.

“Think we oughta—?” Before I could even finish the question, Zecora shook her head.

“If we encounter the Dust Devil again, our journey would surely end.” She frowned. “As it is, we are closer to the finish than to the start, and are better of continuing forward and taking heart. Surely there must be a spring or someplace our water can be replenished?” I thought it over, thinking about where we were and what options were around—and wondering how she was possibly gonna finish that rhyme. I had just about come to answer about the water when she burst out, “Please tell me there is, or our thirst will never be quenched.” Huh. So that’s one question answered.

As for the other, “Yeah, there’s the occasional spring or whaddyacallit, oasis. They’re tricky to find though. Sometimes they dry up or a new one starts up someplace else.”

Zecora nodded brusquely. “Then that is settled: we will go ahead and keep our senses keen. Hopefully we’ll drink our fill soon, if you know what I mean.” Without waiting for me to answer, she started climbing out of the riverbed.

I grimaced as I started up the incline. She was all business, that zebra. Still, I could see there was no stopping her and I wasn’t about to abandon her either. We headed in the distance of the setting sun. Hopefully we could make it a good ways before it got too cold and dark to travel. I knew one thing though. It was gonna be thirsty traveling.

Comments

[Darkstarling]

Of COURSE Dust Devils are actual creatures in Equestria.

Well, they're in a tight spot and no mistake. At least magically moving oases might help them. Though that in turn raises the worrying question of what is moving them.

[RK_Striker_JK_5]

I gotta admit. A dust devil being an actual... being is pretty damned clever. Nice seeing Zecora open up a bit like that. Yay for more!