Not In Bluff Nor Bravado Nor Loneliness

by Vivid Syntax

First published

Minotaur culture has plenty to say about ponies, and it ain't pretty. Iron Will's got a lot to learn.

Ponies? Yeah, you hear a lot about them growing up in the minotaur homelands, and it isn't all positive. Actually, almost none of it is positive. They're different. They've got those weird pictures on their flanks and those little prayers they mumble to their princesses. Ponies are gentle, passive. They're not like us.

See, a minotaur is supposed to act a certain way. You bulk up. You get aggressive. You don't let anyone else push you around, and you don't associate with ponies. I've heard the same thing my whole life, ever since I was young.


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Art by BGN

But In Deeds

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-o-

No fair! He's got my horns! That's cheating! "Ow!" It doesn't hurt, but they usually stop if they think it does cuz then Mr. Broadside yells at them. They listen to Mr. Broadside. He's the biggest minotaur. "OW!" He's not stopping! Why isn't he stopping!?

He pushes me down, and my back ka-pows into the dirt and he's landing on me and my head feels fuzzy and the sun's in my eyes. My teeth squeeze my tongue too hard. Wrestling's stupid. This is stupid.

And it's not fair! Goldhorn's two years older than me! "Ow!" My leg!

Why isn't Mr. Broadside stopping him!? He's just... standing by the bleachers and angry-frowning at me with his arms crossed.

"Stop it!" It hurts! My leg doesn't go that way! He's twisting too hard!

"Tap out, shrimp!" I don't know what that means! He's pressing down on me and I DON'T LIKE HIM! "Who's your daddy!?"

What's he talking about? I sob, "M-my dad's name is Strong Will! He's in the military!" What does he want? I don't get it! I'm not gonna cry. Dad says minotaurs aren't supposed to cry.

"You... what? Ugh." He's getting off me now. My leg feels tingly. Did I win? "Loser."

Goldhorn's a jerk.

At least it's sunny and the ground isn't wet, but I’m dusty. I wish gym time could be in the grass. Grass is nicer than dirt. Mr. Broadside says minotaurs should get dirty sometimes.

My leg hurts. Wrestling's stupid. My legs are too small. Mr. Broadside's stupid, too. He's coming to help me, but he's still got a frowny angry face.

Why isn't he helping me up?

"Iron Will! That! Was! PATHETIC!" Please don't yell. It makes me shiver even though it's not cold. I shouldn't cry. Don't cry. My leg still hurts. "Minotaurs do NOT roll over and take it like a cow!"

He won't stop yelling. I'll pretend he's singing. That's kinda funny.

Mr. Broadside leans down and jabs my chest really hard. It hurts, but I don't say any words. My mouth isn't working right. "Boy, don't laugh at me!"

My head turns by itself and I look over at the other side of the field. The ponies are running races and they're laughing and they get to have fun. One of them has a pink coat and purple hair. She's just sitting down. I want to be like the ponies. "How come they don't have to wrestle?"

Mr. Broadside looks at them and snorts. "They can't. They're different. They don't have the arm strength for wrestling." He scratches his chin. "Long as they stay out of your way, just ignore 'em." His looks back at me and his face gets all scrunchy again. "YOU, though! You're supposed to be a MUCH better brawler by now." He snorts again and shakes his head. "You're hopeless. Go find... something else. And don't show up in my training ground again until you stop being SUCH! A! WEAKLING!" But he's the one that made me come here!

His face is all bulgy and scrunchy, so I just nod. He' s still staring. "Yes, sir." My voice was really quiet, but at least he's leaving.

My ribs hurt. I hate wrestling. I'm a bad minotaur. Why do the ponies get to be so special? It's not fair.

I stand up. Goldhorn's laughing at me. My chest and my tummy feel bad and heavy.

I don't wanna wrestle anymore anyway. But I can't do races or sit down or I'll get yelled at again. My legs hurt and my ribs hurt. My arms are okay. I can do some dumbbell things with those dumbbells over there, maybe. Goldhorn's a dumbbell.

I shake the dust off. It doesn't all come off, and the ponies on the racetrack keep laughing. One time, I was playing with some ponies, but my dad found out and yelled at me. I don't like their laugh anymore. Ponies are stupid.

Wow, this dumbbell's heavy. One... This is so heavy. Two...

--o--

...hundred forty-one. Two hundred forty-two.

I sniff hard. My nosebleed's stopped. I bet Goldhorn's still crying over that leg of his. That'll teach him not to harass someone weaker than him. Maybe. At least he's graduating this year. Been putting up with him for waaaay too long.

Dad doesn't look up from his paper. "Standing up for yourself like a real bull." Sure. Whatever. "Proud of you, son." Huh. Don't hear that very often. Not like he's ever home long enough to say it, and even when he is, he always just sits here at the kitchen table with his face stuck in something. Two hundred forty-three.

It's like he only ever notices me when I come back home with a bigger dumbbell. Makes sense. I mean, look at him! His arms look even bigger than last time. Two hundred forty-four. "Then maybe you could show it once in a while." Two hundred forty-five.

His reply's flat, and his head stays in place, rock-solid. Big surprise. "Don't make me black up your other eye, boy. Need more ice?"

I press the ice pack hard against my eye with my other hand. It's not as cold anymore, but I'm alright. I won't complain. I'm not a baby. I'm not supposed to complain. "No." Two hundred forty-six.

His ears flick. That means a lecture or, if I'm lucky, just a question. "Why'd that a-hole pick a fight with you, anyway?"

Thank Minos. "He... sort of didn't."

"Hm?" Dad raises an eyebrow. Wasn't he the one that always said a real bull makes eye contact?

I keep going. "He was harassing some pony mare." My arm feels like it's about to fall off. Don't quit. Minotaurs don't quit. Two hundred forty-seven. "Pink coat, purple mane. Regular pony."

Dad snorts and peeks over his paper. Finally. "Oh. So?"

Isn't it obvious? "So I told him to knock it off, and he swung at me." Two hundred forty-eight.

"Why?"

"Cuz he's an a-hole."

His ear flicks again. Wonder where he picked that up. "No. Why was he picking on her? What was she doing?"

"Nothing." Two hundred forty-nine. "She was just brushing her hair and talking to some friends."

"Was she doing one of those weird prayers to what's-her-face?"

Ugh. "No, Dad. She was just hanging out." Two fifty. My arm's shot, but in a good way. I let it go slack. The dumbbell hits the floor, and I stretch out my hand to let the blood flow back to it. Shoot. Good thing I stopped at two fifty. My hand is super cramped. The other one's wet with condensation. I'll switch in two minutes.

"Was she coming on to him? Was she flicking her tail? Watch out when a lady starts flicking her tail around. That's how they get their claws in you." He looks back at his paper and mumbles something. Probably about Mom again. Dad's stupid. "That's how they get you."

Don't yell at him, or he'll freak out. Keep it mellow. "No, Dad. She was just getting harassed." Nice job. Good thing I've had a lot of practice, I guess.

He flips the page. "Don't get involved with that crowd. No son of mine is gonna be caught dead praying to what's-her-face and brushing ponies. It isn't minotaur behavior." He sips his coffee. "Besides, they need to learn to stand up for themselves."

Gross – we're moving toward Lectureville. "It's not like they can fight back." Ponies don't wrestle. Ponies are different. Ponies aren't supposed to wrestle. Minotaurs are fighters. Minotaurs are supposed to wrestle. "They don't ever learn how to stand up for themselves."

"Then someone better teach them." Who? Dad's been scorned by every pony he's ever met, and it's not like ponies get a lot of respect in these lands. "Meantime, you watch out for you and your own."

She was getting picked on by someone stronger than her. "She... kinda was one of my own," I mumble. I didn't mean to say that.

Dad sets his paper down – heavily – and stares me down with furrowed eyebrows. He takes a deep breath. Dang. Here we go again.

---o---

"You do realize you're a minotaur, right? You're big, you're tough, and wherever you go, you act like you own the place." I'm so glad I took that "Advanced Goat Dialects" course my last year of school. Mr. Bighorn's Common-Speech is terrible. He keeps bleating. "I've never met one of you guys that needs assertiveness training." He strokes his beard and sucks in a deep breath. I don't know how anyone can breathe in such a confined, dingy, dirty office. It reeks of goat. And why does he keep the shades drawn? It's too dark in here.

Pay attention, Iron Will. Eyes forward. "Well, sure!" Be authoritative. Gotta show him I know what I'm talking about if I want him to invest, and unless I want all my savings to disappear for nothing, I need him to invest. "But it's not just–"

"And you have met other minotaurs, right? They're not the kind to–"

I slam a fist on his desk, putting a divot in it. "Don't interrupt me!" See? I'm a real bull, and real bulls command respect.

Bighorn jumps back a bit and lets out a weak, squeaky sound. That got his attention. He shudders, but then a wry smile creeps across his face. Goats are supposed to respect minotaurs. He'll learn the hard way if he has to. "Well, I'm very sorry, sir," he says almost mockingly. His tone makes my skin crawl, but at least he's a little scared of me now. "Please, continue."

Okay. Focus. Lower voice. If I can't sell it to him, I can't sell it to a customer that needs it, and Minos knows a lot of them need it. "As I was saying, you're right. Few minotaurs need help being more in-your-face. It's second nature to us, but not everyone knows how to stand up for themselves when push comes to shove come to blows." I punch the air in front of me for emphasis – just close enough to his face to make him wince – and give him a second to process everything.

He nods and taps a hoof on his desk a few times, and he's looking me in the eye. Got him onboard so far. "I see. Take to the road. Tackle a wider market." He rolls his eyes. At least, I think he does. Dang, his eyes are weird. "Could work. Not sure anyone in the neighboring lands will pony up for that kind of instruction, though."

Oh, that's just too perfect. "Ponying up is exactly what I expect. You ever been to Equestria?"

"Ha!" Bighorn leans back in his chair. It squeaks, and he gestures all around his cramped office. "Kid, I've been everywhere." I let myself sneak a peek around the room. It's full of tacky old wood paneling and photos of Mr. Bighorn with important-looking creatures. "Equestria may seem all gentle and friendly, but they don't exactly appreciate one of our kind telling them what's what, even and especially when we're right – like we are most of the time. Them baby-brained ponies have their cutesy little culture with no cares and no sense at all. Tartarus, they don't even know how to farm without bursting into some song or other, and their princesses have to take care of them like children."

Huh. That was... pretty harsh. Not unusual around these parts, but still pretty harsh. "That's... not really fair. You're making them sound like a lower species."

"Heh. Why do you think they need so many laws protecting them?" He spits right onto the floor. "Makes me sick. They aren't as strong, they aren't as efficient, and they spend all their time gossiping instead of working. There's a reason I pay them less."

"What?!" Now I'm the one that's getting sick. "Did you just admit–"

"I'd fire 'em all if I could! 'Cept Easy Breezer out there." His voice gets even slimier. "Best secretary I've ever had. She really goes above and beyond, if you catch my drift." Bighorn winks at me, and a disgusting chill slithers up my spine. My stomach churns, half from the stench and half from my potential future business partner. I don't think I can do this.

But I have to. Just keep cool, I-Dubs. Play to his angle a little. "Sounds like they'd be good candidates, then." My teeth are clenched. When did I make a fist? This guy looks hungry for a knuckle sandwich, and his order's about up. Dang, am I shaking? Keep cool. "Lots to learn about standing up to a-holes." Dang it! Please please please don't read between the lines. I need this job.

"Ha! As if they need to be any mouthier. Besides, you can't train 'em. How many of those creatures have you even had a real conversation with?"

Like, heart to heart? There was that one that I sort of talked to back in school, I guess. Sometimes. Sort of. Mostly just waving. But she ran away during my fight with Goldhorn, and I didn't see her much after that. Heard she'd moved. So... none, really. "Enough."

Bighorn bleats and looks lazily at a photo next to him. Shoot, I'm losing him! Gotta get him back. Maybe...

"Yeah, well, come back when you've–"

"They'll be easy marks!" He cocks an eyebrow. My stomach drops. "You said it yourself: they've got wits like infants." Yuck. It's like I'm tasting something foul that I can't spit out. "I-it'll be easy! All we gotta do is... tell them what they wanna hear!" I grimace and slam my fist on the desk again. I really, really hate this. "And we'll be rolling in their bits before you know it!"

They're not idiots. They're just different, and they need a little help, but I can't train them unless I get this job. I'm not a bad guy. This is just how the world works. This is just how minotaurs and goats talk when they're alone.

I need a cold shower.

Bighorn pauses and nibbles on his lower lip. My heart stops. "Yeah, that might work. Got your pitch?"

Nice! Okay, I've got this. Big voice, big personality, and show him what you've got. If I can get through this, I can sell it to anyone. "Yes I do!"

"Well, let's hear it."

----o----

"My little ponies, are you tired of being pushed around?" A few heads bob up and down a little. No, that's no good. Louder, Iron Will. Don't let those first show jitters get you. "Tired of being bullied by those stronger than you!? Tired of other creatures showing you no respect!?" Try to make eye contact with every customer. It shouldn't be too hard, especially with just six of them. "Today, right now, Iron Will, me, Iron Will, will teach you the techniques and secrets you need to know to stop being such a pushover!" Smile. Be confident but friendly.

Hey, a few more are coming over! I told Bighorn a town square would be perfect. It's just too bad they don't have a gazebo or something. When your first stop's a small town, though, what can you do?

I should mingle. Walk around the group a little. Might as well use the space I've got, and it's not like they're poisonous or anything. I move out into the... how many do I need before I call it a crowd? "In the next hour, we'll start transforming you from a timid foal into the pony you want to be. And the best part? The first half's absolutely free!"

Let's see... that green one's already looking nervous. She could use a little push. I'll just loom over her a little to make my point. Shows authority. Keep the friendly smile, though. Don't wanna scare her. "Little lady, what do you want to be?"

She looks all around, "Uh..." Her voice quivers. Did she drop something, or is she really that fascinated with the dirt? It's kinda cute, I guess? "Uh..."

...do I just have no idea how to talk to ponies? Be gentler, maybe? "No need to be scared. This is a safe space." I gesture around to the group. "We're all here for more or less the same reasons." Warm smile. That's sure to put her at ease. "So, what are you hoping to get out of this workshop?"

"Uh..." Oh no. She's shaking. This... might be a little harder than I thought. How in Tartarus is she this sheepish?

Shoot shoot shoot. This was supposed to be the easy part. C'mon, think! Maybe I should try, like, talking about her feelings or something. Yeah, ponies are supposed to be more in tune with those. "Too scared to say? Just push those fears away." Hey, that rhymed!

And now she's looking up at me! Great! "Well, I, uh..." I make a little pushing motion with one arm, and she finds her voice. "I want to be better at haggling."

Now we're getting somewhere. I wonder if... "Want a good price? Don't be too nice!"

They're all looking up and leaning in, and is that orange one smiling? Seriously? Don't they feel like I'm talking down to them?

No matter. They're eating it up. "Businesses expect you to haggle a little. It's all part of the gig. They won't get angry if you just ask about a discount, and if they do, then you DON'T want to shop there."

I can see the gears working in their little heads. This is great!

The orange pegasus raises a hoof. "Is it really that easy?"

Well, no, it's not, but what's the harm in boiling it down if it helps them gain some confidence? Maybe Bighorn was – NO! They're not idiots. Okay, so they get won over easily, but it could just be the big Iron Will personality. I'd listen to me. "Sure is! Once you've mastered my techniques, you can treat every day like a brand new start."

The green one slumps a little. "I-I don't think I can do it."

"NONSENSE!" Whoa, take it down, Dubs. She's scared of you, and you're not here to intimidate them. Nice job grabbing her attention like that, though. Probably wouldn't hurt to flare up from time to time. Gets the point across. Real bulls get their point across. Need to ease off for now, though. I give her a friendly smile. "Anypony can do it."

"Really?"

----o----

"I've been all over Equestria, getting ponies like you off their sorry butts and out into the world of self-confidence and GETTING! WHAT! THEY! WANT!" I can feel the thunder of their hooves from where I'm standing. They LOVE Iron Will's in-your-face attitude! And why wouldn't they? Confidence, swagger, muscles... Iron Will's got it all!

This new stage feels a little creaky, but it's holding. Should've gotten the bigger one. Oh well. With the way these ponies throw their bits at me, I'll be able to afford it in no time.

Gotta hand it to Bighorn. With all his guidance and feedback these past few months, we've been raking in the bits. He's one savvy business goat.

"Now, everypony's got something they hate about themselves, but don't you worry! Iron Will is here to fix you." And get a little something on the side for his trouble. "So on the count of three, I want you to SHOUT what you want Iron Will to fix!"

They always love this part. "One!"

I do, too. "Two!"

They give in to how weak they are without me, and then I've got 'em. Just like Bighorn said. "Three!"

Dozens of voices shout all at once, so loud and raucous that I can't make out anything they're saying. Doesn't matter, though. Now they know. They need me. They're nothing without me, and I deserve their adoration for how much better I'm making them. Their cash, too. With what I'm making off this show alone, I can probably class up the act.

Streamers? Nah. Minotaurs should have style. Needs to be bigger! Flashier! Dangerous! With lights and smoke machines and music! How about...

---o---

FIREWORKS! POW POW!

They're roaring at Iron Will. They love it! Of course they love it! There's enough pyrotechnics to burn down this whole stupid Hedge Maze Center!

Dang, I can't even hear myself think over these walking bags of bits. You've got 'em, big guy. Now they KNOW Iron Will means business! And business! Is! GOOOOOOD! Punch the air a few times! BAM! BAM! I love my muscles. Kiss for you, Lefty, and one for you, Righty. Give 'em a smile, and pose until the music ends. Perfect! Just like always.

Alright, casual now. "Welcome friends!" HA! "My name is Iron Will, and today is the first day of your new life!" Little razzle-dazzle, and, "I wanna hear you STOMP if you're tired of being a pushover!"

They do as they're told. This is too easy.

"STOMP if you're tired of being a doormat!"

Good work, my little paychecks.

"STOMP if you wanna pay nothing for this seminar!"

There they go again. Give 'em a moment. One, two, three, four... Heh, this group's even slower than usual. Wonder if I can squeeze more bits out of them?

That stupid giggle of theirs ticks me off though. Don't they know how annoying they can be? They're lucky I put up with them. I snort. "That's no joke, friends. Iron Will is so confident that you will be one hundred percent satisfied with Iron Will's assertiveness techniques–" Big gestures. Keep 'em hooked. "–that if you are not one hundred percent satisfied, you! Pay! NOTHING!"

Where's a good mark? Ah, brown one, front row. I jump at her at and get in her face and flex for all I'm worth. I swear, one of these day's I'm actually going to hit one of these dimwits. "But I pity the fool who doubts Iron Will's methods!" Don't be shy; look 'em in the eye. "You don't doubt me, do you!?"

She's gonna pee herself. Ha! "Uh-uh, no sir..."

Heh. Nopony ever does. These ponies are always satisfied with Iron Will. And even if they weren't, I've got them FAR too terrified to say so! They know I'd pound them into a pulp, or maybe I'd let them stew in fear for a while. They'd deserve it. Wonder what I'd even say?

--o--

"Iron Will is gonna rain down a WORLD of hurt unless Iron Will gets his money pronto!" Who in Tartarus does this little yellow pegasus pony think she is!? Iron Will gets what Iron Will wants, and IRON WILL WANTS HIS CASH.

She's seriously speaking up again!? "As I recall, during your workshop you promised one hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed, or you pay nothing. Well, I'm not satisfied."

"What do you mean you're not satisfied!?" My techniques never fail! I'm great at my job, and I've done nothing but help every pony I've come in contact with! "Everypony has ALWAYS been satisfied!"

"Well, I guess I'm the first then, but since I’m not satisfied, I refuse to pay. It's as simple as that."

I'm gonna strangle her! No, no, calm down. Deep breath. She's got a point. I'm a minotaur, and a minotaur keeps his word. "Oh, are you... sure you're not just a little bit satisfied? B-because maybe we could cut a deal." What's got Iron... me so far off my game? "I-I mean, we're both reasonable creatures, aren't we?"

"I'm sorry, but no means no."

Wait... she actually learned a lesson! That I taught her! I did it!

Oh. But that means I don't get any bits. "No means no, huh? Nopony's ever said that to me before. Huh... I gotta remember that one." Consolation prize, I guess. "That's a good catchphrase for my next workshop."

The boys pick me up, and we start down the road. That squealing from her friends is still really annoying, but wow. One of them actually managed to learn something. Bighorn owes me ten bits. I was right about those ponies.

...

So why do I feel like such a big stupid jerk?

-o-

Maybe it's because I haven't actually helped any of them.

There's another one, a red unicorn that's shooting off one of my stupid phrases. We just got in town, and I've already seen this happen three times – once in the park outside of town and twice while we've been here setting up for today's show. The other ponies are getting out of her way, but most of them are rolling their eyes. They're just sick of dealing with her, aren't they? That's not respect. That's loathing.

Same as the last town. Same as every town I've come back to since my second tour began. These ponies aren't learning to stand up for themselves. They're just becoming obnoxious. So much for the program. I should just call it quits, pack up, and never speak to a pony again. That's probably for the best.

I don't get it. Minotaurs are supposed to be in-your-face. We're supposed to be dominant, and we're supposed to demand what we want and get it. And that's all we're supposed to need! I'm doing everything right, but it all feels wrong.

It's all stupid.

The red unicorn's still shouting. "Ignore my words? You're gonna get hurt!" Her horn starts glowing, and that blue pegasus filly she's staring down is about to shake herself apart. "You think this is bad!? JUST WAIT 'TIL I GET MAD!" She's not really going to hurt that little one... is she?

Sparks fly out of the tip of her horn. Shoot! No no no no no!

I leap up and dash toward them. I really need to work on my sprinting. Wow, my legs are tiny.

"You wrecked my day, and now you'll–" I thrust out my arm and grab the red horn. "–hey!"

Ow! My finger muscles feel like they're imploding. Searing pain shoots up my arm, into my chest, and through my heart. I can't breathe. I can't breathe! My eyes are dry. It tastes like copper. I can smell my fur burning. My body won't listen to me! Did lightning just arc between my horns!?

...

Ow.

Oh good. I can breathe again. I think. Suck in some air, and... yep. Okay. What was I doing?

"Let me go!" Right. That. "I'll zap you again if you don't let go right now!"

She fidgets uselessly as I pick her up by the horn and bring her to eye level. "WHAT in Tartarus do you think you were doing? Somepony could have gotten hurt!"

"Skyspirit was in my way! And she didn't move!" She grunts. "And I. Didn't. Like that!"

I shake my head and sigh. "Who do you think you are?"

"Fireheart. What's it to you?" She spits on my face. I ignore it.

I set her down. "Well, Fireheart, that's... not how you're supposed to deal with others, especially other ponies. You don't j-just threaten them out of the gate." It feels weird saying something like that without shouting. Do minotaurs keep their cool under pressure?

"Hey, nosering-for-brains, I was just following your advice."

Other ponies have crowded around us. A lot of them. "Yes, you're supposed to stand up for yourself, but that doesn't mean pushing others around and demanding they act a certain way towards you." Shoot. This is gonna sting. "If that's what you learned from me, then I gave you... b-bad advice." My shoulders sink, and my chest deflates. Dang.

Fireheart cocks her head to the side, then turns up her nose at me. "Well, fine. Then I want a refund."

My heart seizes up again. "...r-refund?"

A voice in the crowd shouts out, "I want one, too!"

Another one jumps in. "Me too!" They start shouting over each other.

Is it hot out here? Their voices are getting louder. Not good. They've got me surrounded. Oh my, that's a lot of ponies. Aren't they supposed to be the gentler species?

"Your program's worthless!"

"You just don't get us, do you!?"

They keep shouting and shouting and closing in on me. This is bad. This is very bad.

I throw my arms out from my body and roar, "OKAY!!!" It's dead silent. "Okay! Okay." I really, really need to learn how to talk to ponies. "I-I can get you a refund." That's not going to fix the problem. "I can pay you back." I don't know if I have enough on me, and even if I did, that's not going to fix the problem.

I have to fix the problem. I caused it, and I have to fix it.

I put my hands down. "L-look. It'll take some time to get everything figured out." Stand up tall. Don't be shy. Look 'em in the eye. "In the meantime, let me make it up to you." How? Maybe... "I've got a follow-up workshop starting soon." Bighorn's not gonna like this. "It's free." I'm so dead.

There are some murmurs in the... this is definitely big enough to be a crowd. Fireheart points a hoof at me. "I don't want another stupid seminar! I want my money back NOW!" She stomps on the last word. The murmurs gain an edge to them, and it feels like the circle is tightening again.

C'mon, Iron Will. Back straight, head high. You've got this. "No."

"What!?" She's gotten her way for a long time now, hasn't she?

I look right at Fireheart. She's not an idiot, and she's not a walking bag of bits. She's... well, she deserves to be addressed the way I'd address another minotaur, at least. "It's not feasible to get all the bits to everypony right away. I'm offering you what I can: some time to air your grievances. Not just that, though. We'll go over a better way to get what you deserve without alienating everypony you meet." I cast a glance around. "I know at least a few of you have gone overboard with the assertiveness techniques." A few embarrassed looks get exchanged in the crowd. "But I can't give you your refund right this instant. I'm sorry, but no means no." Thanks, Fluttershy.

Some of the ponies whisper to each other, and I don't feel nearly as many icy glares as I did before.

Fireheart snorts. "Don't expect to win me over." I don't. "I'm getting my refund after your little show." She turns and leaves with a, "Hmph." The crowd disburses, and my heart starts beating again.

Ponies aren't supposed to boss around minotaurs. I must be a bad minotaur.

No time for sulking. I've got about ten minutes to restructure my program, and it has to undo all the over-the-top assertive craziness they learned last time, and I need to do it without losing all my professional credibility, and I'll still need to pay a bunch of them back at the end, and Bighorn's gonna have my hide when he finds out I just gave away so much of our profits.

And I have a headache. Ugh. I slap myself in the face. If I survive the next couple hours, I'm going to need some time to clear my head. That park we passed earlier would probably be a good spot.

--o--

It's pleasant and serene, and there's a nice, big tree that blocks the view into town. I stand in the middle of a dirt path that rings a small pond. A few ducks quack and splash around, and a squirrel buries an acorn nearby. The sun hangs low in the sky.

I cross my arms and look out at the water. That workshop could have gone worse. Could have gone better, too, but at least some of the ponies decided to forego the refund. We barely had enough bits on us to cover the rest. They seemed to like the new advice, though. I'll have to do a third tour to make sure I haven't screwed them up any worse. It'll be without Bighorn and his boys, though. No way is he going to keep funding this project after our little shouting match.

I take a deep breath. Eh, good riddance.

I hear hooves plod on the soft grass behind me. Great. Probably another refund, one I can't afford. A mare's voice behind me says, "That was some good advice. I liked this workshop better."

I turn around and look at her. She's a small one, isn't she? Pink coat, purple mane, and – hey! I know her! Looks like she finally got that butt picture all the ponies seem to get eventually. A white flower.

I nod at her. "Nice seeing you again."

She stops on the grass a couple yards away. Huh. Her tail isn't flicking. She doesn't smile. "You, too, Iron Will." Her voice is stiff but friendly, like she's been practicing her lines. "I never got to thank you for chasing off Goldhorn. I really appreciate it."

Oh, yeah. That whole fiasco feels like it's from another lifetime. "You're welcome." She keeps staring at me. Is she waiting for me to say something? I probably shouldn't. Real minotaurs don't... screw it. I'm a real minotaur. I'll do what I think I should. I still have no idea how to talk to them, though. "So, uh, pony, do you–"

She cocks an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

That was weird. "What?"

Her gaze is fixed on me. "I'm not 'pony,' and I have a name, and I can't be stuck into an amorphous blob with every other member of my species." Her face scrunches up. It's like she's angry and frowning at the same time.

My blood runs cold. Why'd it do that? "S-sorry."

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "Bleh, minotaurs."

Wait a minute. I raise an eyebrow. "Hey! You just said–"

She startles. "Oh sweet Celestia! I'm sorry!" She looks away and her cheeks flush. This should be going better. "I'm not very smart."

You got that... nope. Hold on. Bad thoughts keeping you down? Kick 'em out of town. "Sure you are." I take a few steps forward onto the grass, and my horns rustle a few of the leaves on the tree. "You use words like 'amorphous.' Gotta be at least a little bright." She glances my way, so I smile, wink, and wait for her to respond.

She doesn't say anything. She's examining me. She's not scared, but she's wary. What's she thinking? Her posture shows a little confidence, but she might want to straighten her back more. No, wait, this isn't a workshop. Do ponies always stand like that? How do I not know what ponies look like when they're standing? Whatever. I'm pretty sure something's putting her off, though. "You okay, big guy? You're staring at me like I'm from another planet." Oh. That would do it.

I don't think she's from another planet. Ponies are just... different, but nobody's been able to tell me why. They act like we're totally incompatible, like it's a competition to see which species is best. Is that even a valid thing to think about? And how am I supposed to help these ponies if I don't even know what makes them tick?

They're not idiots, but they're easily swayed by loud noises and fireworks? They're gentle and demure and shy, but they'll turn on you the moment you tick them off? They're so inconsistent! But everyone treats them like they're easy to figure out and all the same! I don't understand them, and it's driving me nuts! "What are you!?"

Did I say that out loud?

There's a brief pause, and I'm about ready to jump in the pond, but then she chuckles. "My name is Morning Lily." She sits down next to the tree and motions with her head for me to join her.

Eh, why not? I could use someone to talk to... and probably a place to stay tonight. I sit down in the grass and rest my back against the tree. The bark scratches a very hard-to-reach area. Oooooh that's nice. I rub up against it a little more and ask, "Is that a... normal name for ponies?"

She doesn't look offended. Thank Minos or Celestial or whoever. "Have you met many ponies before?"

"Um..." I mean, met is such a strong word, isn't it?

"I don't mean clients for your business. I mean, how many have you really taken the time talk to?"

I sigh and look out over the water. The ducks have settled down. "Not enough." There's a lot of silence out here. I don't like it. Think of something to say. "Why'd you leave? School. Why'd you leave school?"

Morning Lily twirls a hoof in the grass for a moment. "My mom moved us back to Equestria after her trading business failed. There weren't enough legal protections for us outside these borders, and, well, some clients took advantage."

I scratch the back of my head and realize I don't know the first thing about struggle. Nopony besides Fireheart has been foolish enough to mess with me, so discrimination hasn't been an issue, and on the bureaucratic side, Bighorn's guys have taken care of everything. I suppose I can't really count on that anymore. Shoot. "It's not easy being a pony, is it?" She looks up at me with big eyes. "I mean, you're so tiny and kinda fragile and you don't wrestle and..." I should stop talking. Right now. "Sorry."

She smiles, shakes her head, and looks out at the pond again. "We make it work, but yeah, every once in a while, someone shows up and tries to tell us how to run things, like they've got it all figured out." Her ear flicks at me.

My heart sinks. "I was just trying to help."

Morning Lily shrugs. "Well, at least you're trying. There's a lot about being a pony you'll probably never understand, but we don't really expect you to. Just be aware of others' feelings and keep trying, and you'll eventually get it right."

Okay. That was waaaaaaay more condescending than it needed to be. Do they always package up life lessons all cutesy like that?

It's not stupid, per se, but I certainly don't get it. Yeah, ponies are a little different. Not better, not worse. Just different. I can live with that. Doesn't mean they're lesser, and it doesn’t mean we can't share a tree every now and again. I don't think I feel better but, well, she's trying. "Thanks."

I slump back against the tree, and my head slams into it much harder than I wanted. "Ow." A few leaves get knocked loose and flutter down. Aaaaand there's that headache again.

Morning Lily hesitates. "...you okay?"

"Yeah, I–" Oh, she's got a leaf in her mane. Doesn't she feel it? "You've got a..." I point at the top of her head.

She looks up and all around. "What? What do I have?"

"There's a leaf in your mane. I'll get it." I reach over and brush it out.

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