First Impressions
Tears run into your moustache as you read a letter given to you by your old C.O. It tells of the death of your remaining family . It's the second time you read this letter as you sit beside your fire. You drop the paper into the blaze and watch it blacken...
You wake at sunup and pack up camp. You sling your backpack and kick dirt over the coals. Leaning down you pickup your rifle and marvel it for a moment. It was a Spencer's repeater, but it's barrel is 6 in. longer and it fires a .52 caliber center-fire cartridge. You leave and hike into Dakota Territory's wooded hills, your bag packed so tightly that the only noise you hear are the calls of prairie chickens. Your wear the forest green uniform of Berdan's Sharpshooters, you are nearly invisible to your foe as you stalk the pine-laden knolls. Your brother's last gift, a black, wide-brimmed hat, casts shadows across your face. You have a personally tested revolver prototype that fires the same round as your rifle as well as a large bowie and a captured, confederate wielded, russian guardless saber. You complete the getup with a canvas messenger bag, a pair of black leather riding gloves and calf-high boots.
After a hour of walking you come across a wooded valley and at the bottom you see a dozen tethered horses. You creep down in to the valley and spot a man standing on the other side of the horses in a confederate gray frock coat. Sneaking up on him, sword drawn, you stand a step away.
You get his attention",Pst! "
He whips around and lets out a surprized gurgle as you grip his neck. You tower over him, 6ft 6in and nearly 260 lbs, your spiteful glare burning into his flesh. He squirms as you pick him up a foot off the ground.
"Where are your friends? " you growl. He motions to the other end of the valley. "What are they doin'?".
He chokes out", hunting."
Furrows in your brow appear as you squeeze his carotid artery until he stops struggling. You tie him up and drag him further back into the valley. You find, only a few yards away, a mine. Throwing the man into some bushes, you decide to explore the mine. As you saunter into the the cavern, following it's slowly right-ward curving path, a light blue glow shimmer into existence. Poking your head around the corner, you see a slender staff, with a pulsating fist sized orb affixed to the top, held sted-fast in stone. You step up to it and delicately reach for the strange rod. A mere 2in away when a bolt of electricity arcs to the tips of your gloved hand and into your body. The pain is so intense that you black out before you hit the ground.
* * *
You feel a cool breeze and soon here voices. Wait, was that ... naw it couldn't be. You open your eyes as your hearing clears and your face to bark with an exposed root of a very large oak tree. Lying on your belly, you slowly stand, all your gear still strapped to your back. As you pick up your hat a girl's scream splits the air. Placing the hat on your head, you sprint toward the sound. You come to a clearing with a chubby gray-coat digging through the undergrowth.
"Come out now and I'll make it quick," the fat bastard dribbled as you crept up behind him.
Bowie drawn, you kick his knee and as it buckles, you grab his greasy double chin. You thrust the scalloped blade into the base of his skull, the body goes limp as his spine spine is severed. Laying the body on the ground before relieving the dead gray-coat of his pistol and ammunition, you hear a quiet sniffle. Jamming the Walker in your belt, you kneel by a thick blackberry bramble and parted the sharp shrub. Lying with in the nest of thorns was a small, pink maned, orange pony ... with wings? Your train of thought is broken when it speaks.
"A-are you gunna eat me?" she asks with a voice that sounds disturbingly like your sister's. Her lower lip starts to quiver and her purple eyes start to water.
Gingerly you pick her up and hold her close to your chest. With a gentle, soothing tone you murmur ",oh no, I would never do that." You start to sing your mother's beloved lullaby;
Blow the wind, blow;
Swift and low;
Blow the wind o'er the ocean.
Breakers rolling to the coastline;
Bringing ships to harbor;
Gulls against the morning sunlight;
Flying off to freedom
Looking down you notice a small smile, one starts to creep to your lips. That smile disappears when a growl reaches yore ear. Three wooden wolves saunter into the clearing, grins of malice plastered across their muzzles. You partially unbutton your coat and place the little pony inside.
"You'll want to cover your ears." You draw your saber and the renegade's pistol. You loose a .44 caliber lead ball which pierces the creature's orbital cavity. The round left it's skull with a tail of green ichor, the beast collapsed with a muffled thump. The wolf on the right leaps at you only to have it's skull split by your blade. The wolf's momentum carries you to the dirt, you sit up in time to watch the final wolf disappear into the shrubbery. You kick the wolf corpse off your legs and stand before checking in on the filly in your coat.
"All right in there little one?" She nods shakily. "Where do you live?" A trembling, tangerine hoof gestured toward a slowly darkening path. "Don't worry you'll be home soon."
* * *
The little pony had fallen asleep a few minutes before leaving the wood. The setting sun tinting every thing orange, including a group of ponies. You raise a hand and open your mouth to greet them when you are interrupted by cry from above.
"There it is! "
You look up in time to see a rainbow blur collide with your chest. The impact throws the orange filly from her cradle and causes you to tumble into a tree with a crack immediately fallowed by a loud twang. The last thing you see is a pair of cyan hooves on a collision course with... your face.
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This is my first attempt at any fanfic. Hope you like it.