A con pony unwittingly becomes the target of a equicidal crime group.
Silver Tongue was never an important pony. Sure, he conned rich ponies out hundreds of bits, but it wasn't as if they couldn't spare it. He never believed any of them would care enough to get back at him.
It has always struck me as odd how other ponies can get such upstanding talents. Most ponies get things like baking, farming, teaching: things that are useful in the Equestrian utopia. It makes a talent like the ability to lie rather depressing.
My name is Silver Tongue. I am a white earth pony, and my cutie mark is a piece of silver thread. Contrary to what my clients believe, it symbolized my uncanny ability to make horrible items sell for exorbitant rates, not my needlework.
I am not a tailor or a barber or anything of particular note. I was, for the better part of my life, a sad, miserable con pony. I swindled, lied, and cheated ponies out of their hard-earned bits. In short, I was a stain, and that’s where my story begins. Of course, there was no better place to find stains than a Manehatten bar.
I would always regret conning ponies with little bits to their names, so I often set my sights on higher-class ponies. I never did think too far ahead, to see where conning hundreds if not thousands of ponies with enough combined wealth to purchase the entire city of Manehatten and more.
I must have been in my late twenties. I had just pulled off one of the difficult jobs of my miserable career, selling an uppity Canterlot pony a dress made by ‘The Great Rarity’. The joke was on them. I found that star-spattered monstrosity in the trash and made a boatload of bits off it. For the longest time, I believed those individuals couldn’t do much, and after this job, I figured I’d treat myself.
“You want the usual, Silver?” The bartender asked. He was a nice fellow, a couple years younger than me. Still, he didn’t judge me too quickly for my profession.
“Nah, I’ll have the good stuff this time,” I responded with a sly smile.
He laughed, “Alright, then. Who’d you swindle this time?”
“Just some Canterlot snob," I said with a wave of my hoof, "You know, a pony who thinks he's more important than he is.”
“Heh. Right. So, what’cha want?”
I smiled smugly, “Get me the best cider you’ve got.”
The bartender smiled as he wiped off a glass, “That’ll be from Sweet Apple Acres: home-brewed stuff, not that mass-produced garbage.” I tossed a few bits onto the counter, and the bartender eyed them greedily. A smile creeped across his face as he slid them into the register. “One Sweet Apple cider, comin’ up!”
As he turned to pour the drink, I spared a glance down the table. A few seats down, a dark blue pony sat hunched over the table. He wasn’t a unicorn, but the pony bore a long black cloak which covered his body down to the hooves, making it difficult to narrow down further. In front of him sat several empty glasses, which he glared at coldly.
“What’s that guy’s problem?” I whispered to the barkeep.
He, too, glanced at the strange figure before turning back to me, “I don’t know. He marched on in here a little bit ago, mutterin’ somethin’ about a meeting with somepony. I dunno, but I’d think whatever it is, it’s pretty shady to be meeting here in that garb.”
“Aren’t you supposed to do something about suspicious ponies?” I asked with casual interest.
He shrugged, “Not my problem. Besides, I let you in here.”
“Oh, ha ha,” I responded with a roll of my eyes. I turned back to the suspicious pony. Funnily enough, his eyes were now focused on me. “Hey, buddy,” I quickly said, “Had a rough night?”
His glare did not falter. He slid off his barstool a lot stiffer than any normal pony who’d had that many drinks. He stepped toward me. My heart was racing with fear, but I maintained an expression of slight confusion.
He moved closer until he was around a foot away from my face. A glance into his cloak showed a small metal rod wrapped in leather, protruding slightly from the cloak’s neck.
The bartender was rapidly looking between that other pony and myself, “Sir, would you please step away from him. If you’re gonna fight, do it outside.”
I shot a glare at the bartender as my chest pounded with fear. I’d never been in a fight before, and I did not plan on ending that streak. “Hey, what’re you drinking?”
He pointed at my glass of cider. “That,” he answered.
I smiled kindly, “Alright, how about I get you one?”
He responded coolly, “It’s not about the drink, Silver Tongue.”
If I were not already ice-white, one could say I paled at his statement. Despite a now white-hot fear, I attempted to cool down the situation, “Alright. Now this is getting creepy. How do you know my name?”
The taller stallion’s expression did not once change. It maintained the stoic coldness that could have frozen a wendigo.
It's about respect for those more powerful than you. For example, my client happens to be rather upset with you-” At this point, I was searching for an exit.”-and it seems as though you have offended him personally.”
“Whatever he’s paying, I’ll double it,” I fearfully blurted.
The stallion snorted, his creepily cold expression now bearing a small smile. “Trust me," he scoffed, "You couldn’t afford it,” he said as his gaze finally left me.
I was almost relieved before his teeth clamped down on the metal rod stuffed into his cloak and pulled a shimmering blade out of its holster.
My facade dropped. The stallion’s unflinching expression twisted as he brought the blade down across my face. I jerked, the blade to slicing a deep gash into my cheek.
As a burst of pain erupted from my face, the bartender yelled something unrecognizable at the other pony. Every instinct in my body told me to run: a demand I obeyed diligently. The stallion twisted around to roll fate’s die once again, and I bolted past him into the panicked crowd.
In movies, the hero spent their time escaping thinking about the villain or what they did wrong, but this wasn't a movie. The only things going through my mind were obscenities and a silent prayer that I would suddenly sprout a horn and teleport away.
Unfortunately, neither helped, and no faster than I made it halfway to the door, the stallion turned and shot toward me. Sparing a glance back as I bolted outside, I saw the stallion skid out behind me. He quickly scanned the street before his eyes met mine, and he leapt into the air.
Of course it’s a pegasus, I thought to myself. The stallion glided over the crowd as I barreled through it. I took another look over my shoulder in time to watch him stop and leap onto a nearby building. I watched the skies warily as I continued my sprint.
I ducked into an alley and slowed, panting. I had never had to run that way since I was a foal, and it was not a pleasant experience. I watched the crowd behind me, then the buildings overhead. I breathed a sigh of relief before stopping at the opposite end of the alley.
I stood in silence for what felt like an eternity before a sharp pain lanced across my cheek, along the deep gash in which I dust regained feeling. I carefully covered the cut with a hoof, wincing as the dirt from my hoof made its way in. As I slowly made my way through the town, a small trickle of crimson fluid dripped around my hoof onto the concrete below.
A cold breeze whipped down the narrow road, sending candy wrappers and plastic bags tumbling past me. It was almost like something out of a movie, but pure, unadulterated fear shot through my brain. Adrenaline was likely the only thing keeping me from collapsing.
I frantically leapt through my thoughts, searching for some reason, some pony who would want to do something like this. Unfortunately, there was a lot to check. I’d conned hundreds of ponies, and I had no clue how or why any sane pony would do something like this!
After all, this was a world where ponies could solve all their problems with friendship! No, this couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t have pissed somepony off that much. Could I?
No. No, this is probably just some kind of misunderstanding. Nopony would do something like this to some miserable con pony, right?
I let out a deep breath, my breaths returning somewhat to normal. My eyes darted across the shadows, pausing at the slightest movements. I trotted along hesitantly, unsure of what to do next.
As if answering my question, a voice whispered into my ear: a calm, but urgent voice which made my heart race even faster. The voice said only one word: “Run!”
The word repeated in my mind. I retraced my path, and somehow, I had subconsciously ran almost halfway to the train station. I analyzed the route I had taken, as well as the path forward, if only to keep my thoughts off the newly surging pain in my hooves.
I forced my way through panicked crowds as my hooves slammed on the ground and looked back, whether to find the mad stallion chasing me or the stranger whose voice sent me sprinting out of that alley.
I dabbed at the moistness on my cheek and, glancing at my hoof, realized it was still bleeding quite vigorously.
As I brought my hoof back to the ground, an orange mare began sprinting beside me. "Why are we running?" she asked, genuinely curious.
My breathing was only barely in control from the running, and I found it difficult to wheeze out my response, "What?"
Yeah, it was real slick. Apparently she saw the redness on my cheek, as she recoiled and exclaimed, "Whoa, what happened to your face?"
The situation was ludicrous, and one-word responses seemed to be all I was capable of. Either that or panic was keeping me from thinking straight. Either way, my response was still, "What?"
Her curious expression drifted into concern as she tried to put the pieces together. "Are you in trouble," she asked, "Can I do something to-" Her ears swiveled forward, her eyes jolting open as she yelled, "DUCK!"
Again, whether it was panic or sheer confusion, I obeyed. I dropped to my knees just in time to see a flash of blue inches over my head. I stayed there for a second before bringing myself to my hooves and continuing my sprint.
A few nearby ponies glared and swore at the passing pecgasus, and the mare spoke up again, "Whoa, who was that? You must've really pissed him off!"
I slowed my run and my breathing momentarily, and the two of us spoke in unison.
"Hey, listen. I've got to get to the train station," I panted.
"Alright, I'll get you to the train station," she muttered.
I stared at her for a moment before realizing getting out of town while a mad-pony is chasing you is a pretty common thought. I looked ahead, and reasoned that the repetition was a coincidence.
We made it another block before she spoke again. She grabbed me with a hoof and pulled me into a small antiques store, yelling, "C'mon! I know a shortcut!"
Still dragging me be the ear, she called out to the mare behind the store's counter, who waved back without looking up from her crusty book. We weaved through the store's aisles, and she nudged the back door open, dropping us off into the end of an alley.
She dropped me, and despite dragging a full-grown stallion through the store, she didn't seem at all tired. I, on the other hoof, lay on the concrete beside her panting.
"Wait," I breathed out between gasps for breath, "Who are you?"
"My name's Radar," she joyously replied, "You?"
"Silver Tongue," I answered with a nervous glance down the alley.
I slowly made it to my hooves, still gasping as I noticed a large red splotch underneath a hoof. It took me a half second to realize that the trail of red hoof-prints could trace me easily to the front of the store. Radar, by some miracle, had broken a trail I hadn't noticed.
While the situation was odd enough, she and I spoke in unison once again.
I turned to Radar and asked, "Could you find me a rag?"
Radar held a brown bath towel in a hoof, "Here, I found you a rag."
I snatched it from her hoof, and now genuinely wierded out, wiped the blood off my hoof and tied the makeshift bandage around my face.
"Alright," she said, already going to answer my next thought, "If we keep going down the alley, we'll end up about a block from the train station."
No single pony had confused me this much since that pink one from that old farming town. This mare was one of two who had ever confused me to the point of anger.
"Alright, how are you doing that?" I asked, trying to keep it out of my voice.
She shrugged, as if it answered everything.
"No," I said a bit more forcefully than I would have liked, "I need to know. How in the hay are you doing that?"
She responded with a little bit of fear, "I- I really don't know. I just, kinda do. I've always been able to do it. I can't really explain how."
"Seriously?" I half-said, half-yelled.
As if on cue, her body seemed to jerk. Her ears pointed up, and her eyes scanned the sky. "C'mon. We've gotta' go."
She ran off down the alley, and a half second after I realized what was happening, a midnight-blue comet crashed into the concrete in front of me.
The mad stallion pulled his head out of the concrete with a feral snarl etched upon his face, and his eyes seemed to stare into my very soul.
My mother would kill me if she heard what I said in response.
His head twisted, mouth clamping down onto the sword stashed in his cloak. The blade shrieked as it was pulled from its holster, and was whipped around to face my throat.
My mind raced to find a way out, my body twitched to find somewhere to run, but the stallion kept my body pinned in a corner and my mind full of fear. I shrinked back into the corner, trying to go anywhere- to do anything.
That was, until the stallion tried to yell through gritted teeth. Looking back, he was probably trying to say, 'It's time to die!', but what came out sounded like, "Ish tem tuh deh!"
In that second, enough fear dissipated for me to speak. "What was that?" I asked, stalling if nothing else.
He tried to speak with the blade in his mouth again, this time, "Ah sheh, ISH TEM TUH-"
I cut him off, "I really don't understand what you're saying!"
Fortunately for me, he was smart enough to figure out the problem. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't smart enough to think of the other options before he spat his sword out and started trying to speak again.
This time, I cut him off by sprinting past him in all my bandaged glory. He may have tried to yell something else after me, but I was already too far down the alley, and too ecstatic about my survival to care.
A block down, I replayed the events in my head. With every step I took, the funnier it became until I reached the end of the alley cackling like a mad-pony. That raucous laughter mixed with having just ran a quarter of the way through Manehatten left me gasping for air.
I dabbed at the makeshift rag covering half my face, and my laughter slowed. I composed myself and quickly scanned the crowd for Radar. I swiftly located the bouncing blob of orange attempting to see over the crowd, and I began making my way toward her.
As I crossed the street, I yelled, "Radar!"
She called out to me, "Silver? Are you alright?"
"I'm alright," I said, glancing at my surroundings, "Hey, you were right. We're just about a block from the train station."
She leaped over a couple passing stallions and ran toward me, "I'm so glad you're alright! I mean, I ran, and I thought you ran, but I got here, and you weren't behind me, and-"
"Radar!" I said sternly, quieting her rant, "I'm fine. Now, let's get out of here. We've only got a couple minutes before that stallion finds a way to ambush us. Until we get on a train, we are still in trouble." She nodded, and we began to jog down the sidewalk. "Hey, how many bits do you have on you?"
She snatched a small brown bag from nowhere and sifted through its contents. "About twenty, I think."She tossed me the bag, “Here. You need them more than I do right now.”
I smiled, “I’ve got plenty of bits from this afternoon. I’m just wondering how we’ll pay for your fare.”
She rolled her eyes, “Oh, come on. I’m just a secretary, what could I do?”
“First of all, I have a few questions I would like to have answered. Besides, you could detect that stallion before I ever could. You’re amazing, Radar! Why wouldn’t I want you?”
It was a lie, of course. Her sensory thing was incredibly useful, but I could think of reasons why she shouldn’t come with. At the moment, though, it would be best to have a little insurance. I smiled to accentuate the point, and she blushed. Secretary, poor self-esteem, and a power I can use.
“Ah, alright,” she said, “I guess I could come with, at least through the train ride.”
My smile widened as we approached the train station. Alright, this is great. Now, let’s get out of dodge. With a nervous glance behind me, I held the door for Radar as we made our way to the terminal. The cashier pointed us toward the hospital. I laughed.
“No, no. When is the first train leaving?” I asked sternly.
The mare stared at my reddening bandage for a moment before turning back to her ledger, “Uhh.. Let’s see. Ah, here we go. A train to Baltimare is leaving in five minutes. Tickets are, umm..”
She glanced at the terrified look on Radar’s face, then to my bandage, “You know what? I’ll pencil you in. You’re being, like chased or something, right?”
I laughed, “How’d you guess?” Great. Movie geek. Though, given the situation, he may supply us with something simply out of the ‘help the hero’ principle.
“It’s obvious, really,” she said, tearing off two tickets from the strip, “Here. Now, get going. Terminal number five.”
I thanked him and grabbed our tickets as we made our way into the terminal. We boarded the train just as the brakes released. I had just survived my first day on the run, and I was ecstatic.
I stared out the moving train window misty-eyed, and even though the pale stallion next to me glared at the other passengers suspiciously, I practically bounced in my seat. I had never bee traveling before, and while this wasn't the best reason for it, I was glad to be going somewhere else. It was... invigorating to see the Manehatten skyline drift into the night, and my thoughts turned to the journey.
Silver Tongue was... interesting, and an admittedly morbid curiosity in me wondered what exactly he did to get that stallion after him. At that moment, it really didn't matter. It is a wonderful thing to be necessary, and my previous occupation didn't really help.
I smiled at that thought, and looked back to the fading Manehatten skyline with a daydream about using my powers of detection and Silver Tongue's... well, his silver tongue to be, like, awesome vigilantes. I could have a suit or a coat like Shadow Spade, and maybe Silver would have a jacket like Carriage Puller-
"You look like you're having fun," Silver said, and I realized my smile was growing wider as the fantasy continued.
A weak laugh escaped my lips as I answered, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, um.. It's just. I've never been traveling before."
He cast a reassuring smile before responding, "I just wish it were under better circumstances." He sighed. "Alright, so what's with that detection thing of your's? We didn't exactly have time to talk before, so we might as well make use of this."
I shrugged, not entirely sure how to answer. "You know, I don't really know. It sort-of started when I was a filly, but at the time, I thought I just had really quick reflexes. Then, when I was seven or eight, I started to realize it was an actual power."
I looked to Silver, who appeared confused by my explanation. "So, how exactly can you tell when something is going to happen?"
I looked to the ceiling, trying to put together the words, "It's just... like, a feeling. Other than that, I don't really know how to describe it. I mean, it's not like I cant tell you exactly what's going to happen next Tuesday, because I can't really tell. It's just, like, stallion at two-o-clock! Then, there he is!"
Silver leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied with my answer. I had a question of my own, however. "So, your name. Silver Tongue. I guess you're good at, like, lying or something?"
He shrugged, "I guess you could say something like that. It's a lot easier to tell the truth, but in a deceiving way. Like, telling the service lady that I needed a drink to deal with the pain." He gestured to his cut, now exposed because wearing a bath towel on public transit was frowned upon.
I glanced down to the empty shot glass under a hoof and pursed my lips, "Is it really that bad?"
"Adrenaline was keeping the pain to a minimum before," he groaned, "but now it feels like that blade's still in there."
I sighed, trying to think of some way to help him. He responded first "It's fine. I'll get some Aspirin or something when we get to Baltimare. In the meantime, I recommend you rest. It's only an hour trip, and we both have to get up bright and early tomorrow."
I rested my head on the back of the seat, but found myself unable to relax. "Silver, what are we going to do when we get to Manehatten?"
He took a deep breath, eyes still closed. "Maybe stay for a day or so, then move on to the next town," he groaned.
"So, what?" I muttered, turning to look at Silver, "We keep running from town to town until we die? I saw you wheezing after ten blocks in Manehatten. You won't survive lone running."
He sighed, eyes fluttering open as we both realized what we were about to get ourselves into. "That depends on whether he follows us. If he doesn't, we'll be fine in Baltimare. Maybe we should move on again just in case.
"If he does follow us, we move on for a while, make it across Equestria. Out of Equestria, if we have to. Then, find a little town, far from a major city, and stay low." His eyes turned to the glass under his hoof. "But, no. We can't keep running."
I leaned back in my chair, trying to distract myself with the train compartment's ceiling. I took a deep breath, wishing I knew what had gotten Silver into this mess, though, I felt I'd soon find out.
We departed the train in much more somber tones than our entrance. After the adrenaline-fused exuberance died, our eventual fate finally settled in, bringing us to a harsh reality of what was in store for us.
We shambled out of our compartment, Silver's eyes on the crowd, and mine on the surroundings. Pegasi whizzed overhead in uniform, carrying somepony's luggage over the crowd. Large stone sculptures were carved out of the Baltimare's train station, each shining with light from the bowed glass ceiling. A crowd moved in an organized mess of ribboned paths leading to a long wooden desk with several attendants, each of which bore fake smiles to the crowd.
My smile wasn't fake. Somehow, despite our situation, my thoughts turned to wonder as I admired the beauty, not only in the building, but in the ponies running it. "Wow, this place is amazing!" I said, speaking to no-one in particular.
I looked over to Silver, who was still between watching the crowd and the door. He sluggishly responded to my outburst, barely looking at his surroundings before muttering, "I suppose so."
I laughed as I said, "Seriously? 'I suppose' is the best you've got?"
"Well, maybe I'm a bit on-edge considering the reason behind this trip," he spat in reply, "Now, let's go. The farther from this train station we go the better off we'll be." He brought a hoof up to cover his wound and daintily patted the red streak, wincing as he drew his hoof away.
"Are you alright?" I asked with a growing worry for him.
"No," he replied curtly. "Let's see if we can get to a pharmacy or something. Can your Radar-sense find us a CVS or something?" he asked with a dry sarcasm.
I rolled my eyes, chuckling softly as I jauntily answered, "No, I don't think so, but I do have this other power that just might work." I trotted happily toward one of the train station's many attendants, smiling as I said to her, "Hello, ma'am! Could you tell me where the nearest pharmacy is?"
She groaned slightly, then gestured out the door, "Left down Cherry Street, then a right on Royal Avenue."
"Thanks," I responded gleefully, prancing back to Silver Tongue, who bore his best 'are you serious' face.
"Why, what a wonderful power that is," he sarcastically quipped, making his way toward the door, "Perhaps I can make use of this someday."
I laughed, despite the joke being aimed at me, then told him, "She said to take a left on Cherry Street. There is one on Royal Avenue to the right."
He took a deep breath, commanding, "Alright, then let's get going."
When we stepped out of the train station, it was like a distorted version of Manehatten, though at the same time, completely different. There was more brick than steel and asphalt, the buildings were structured in different styles of bricks to give them texture, and then were much shorter and closer together. The roads, lined with trees and gas-lamps, was gently coated in small crowd of ponies, weary to get to work, led by the glowing orange sunrise seen vaguely through the building.
I once again expressed the beauty of the scene before me while Mr. Grumpy Pants sulked next to me, but he once again muttered vague agreement without actually seeing what he was looking at, and my thoughts turned to the ponies around me.
A couple passed us, loudly discussing something about Hoofball. A filly ran into the candy shop across the street with her parents struggling to catch up. Two pegasi flew overhead, turned swiftly around a corner, and disappeared down another street.
I smiled at the ponies around me, while Silver continued to stare absently ahead.
The rest of the trip was without any major incident, unless you count the cashier trying not to stare at the angry red gash on Silver's cheek. As soon as we stepped out of the store, Silver sorted out four of the little red pills and swallowed them, completely ignoring the recommended dosage.
He sighed, then asked me, "Alright. We can stay here for a day or so. What do you want to do?"
I tucked my tongue between my teeth in thought, but quickly found my answer, "Oh! The Power Ponies movie came out today! Could we go see it?"
He nodded, then looked to the sky, "Yeah, I don't think any theaters open until later. We should rest first. We've been up all night."
"I suppose," I groaned with slight disappointment, "but can we at least see the Power Ponies movie later? I've been a huge fan since issue 128, and I just can't wait to see it!" Despite the slow start of the sentence, I was practically bouncing by its end, and Silver was quick to notice.
"Of course you can see it, just promise me you'll get some sleep first. We've got a while before any of the shows will start, so I'll grab the tickets while you get some rest."
"Okay, so, where should I go?" I asked, "I don't really know anywhere in this town."
"There's a place north of here run by my old friend, Grape Vine," he answered, "I'll take you there. She owes me a big favor for dealing with her husband."
"You helped him realize his love for her?" I asked, with a new-found respect for him.
"No," he curtly answered, "I made sure he ended it."
Radar stood at my side as I stared almost absently at the sign to Grape Vine's hotel. I hadn't seen her in years, not since I tore that bastard husband of her's away. I sighed, turning to look at Radar, who grimaced at the slightly overgrown building. "So, this is your friend's place?" she asked, her eyes tracing the vines through the brick cracks on the structure.
"Yeah. I haven't seen her in years, though, so I have no idea how she's going to react to me," I answered with a quick nod.
"Not since you tore her husband away, right?" she asked, prompting another momentary confused expression before resigning myself to the absurdity.
I nodded again, confirming Radar's assumption, and dropping her expectations of me even farther. Regardless, I stepped forward and pushed the door open.
The mare behind the counter was still as beautiful as I remembered. A light purple coat complimented a green mane that draped down to her shoulders, though deep bags had settled under her eyes. A lit cigarette burned with an orange glow, then fell to the floor as Grape Vine's eyes focused on me, widening by the second.
"Silver?" she asked, as though she couldn't entirely be sure of what she was seeing.
I stepped through the door and bore a cocky smile, "Hey Vine, how have you been?"
She leaned over the counter to get a better look at us, "Sweet Celestia, what happened to your face?"
"Is that how you're going to greet an old friend?" I asked, letting my smile grow slightly.
She rolled her eyes, sarcastically muttering, "Forgive my concern, flank-face. I'm just bothered you decided to pick a fight with a weed whacker and didn't invite me."
I let out a short laugh, stepping toward the counter. At that moment, Vine's focus turned from me to the orange mare standing nervously behind me. "Who's she," Vine asked with a nod toward Radar, "I'd congratulate you on finally finding somepony who'll tolerate you, but she looks half your age."
My smile faded, replaced by slight worry. "She's helping me. Listen, I'm in a bad place right now-"
Vine snorted, stomping on what I assumed to be her dropped cigarette. "So, she is half your age."
"Vine, listen," I responded shortly, "Some stallion cut me up in a bar and chased me out of Manehatten. We need someplace to stay for the day."
Vine leaned over the counter, squinting her eyes suspiciously, "Wait, who ran you out of town? How?"
"I don't know. The jerk who attacked me said something about somepony paying him, but I don't know who. Also, a mad-pony with a sword. Guess how I got this," I said, pointing a hoof at the dark red gash on my cheek.
"By the sun, Silver, are you alright?" she asked, now with a genuine concern. Good.
"Fine, thanks to Radar," I replied, gesturing toward the waving mare beside me, "We just need a place to sleep until tonight."
Vine held up a hoof, leaning under the counter to grab a notepad, "Alright, alright, just give me a second." She stood back in front of the counter and flipped through the notepad. "Alright, here." She rested a hoof on a blank spot, "Room 26 is open. Second floor, on your left."
I turned behind me to face the smiling mare, "Radar, could you-"
"I'll head up to the room."
I sighed a quick thanks as she made her way up the stairs, then turned to face Vine.
She locked eyes with me, and in a worried tone I wasn't even sure she was capable of, asked, "Silver, what's going on?"
I shook my head, leaning forward on the counter and dropping my voice to a whisper, "Truthfully, I have no idea. I got attacked in Manehatten by some mad pony who then chased me all the way to the train station."
"Did he say anything?" Vine quietly asked.
"Something about me having more respect for his boss, then something about being paid a hoof and a half for it." I took a deep breath, covering my head with my hooves as my head dropped to hit the wooden desk. "Vine, I need you to promise me something. I don't know how much power this guy's boss has. Maybe after we made it out of Manehatten, it was the end of it.
"But... maybe not. Vine, if they come for me- If they come for us, I need you to lie. Say I wasn't here. Better yet, you don't know who I am. I barely made it out of Manehatten, and if it weren't for Radar, you would be hearing about this in the obituaries. So, whatever happens, no matter how I leave this town, I need you to promise me this." I raised my head, looking into her now moistened eyes, "We never met. We were not friends in high school. I did not get rid of that bastard Midnight Oil for you, and we. Are. Not. Friends."
Vine shook her head, backing away from the counter, "Silver, I-"
"Vine, promise me," I coldly stated.
She shuddered, her eyes turning to look at everything in the room except me. A gentle stream of fluid streamed down her face as she responded, "I... I promise."
"I'm sorry, Vine," I muttered, "I wish we could've spoke on better circumstances."
I turned away from her, unable to get the sounds of quiet sobs out of my head. I felt a cold wetness stain the fur under my eyes, trying not to look at my distressed friend as I stepped through the door.