Post by The Wastelander on Jan 30, 2016 10:29:21 GMT
Dark Strife wasn't sure how long it had been -- since he had become like this. Some days he could not tell apart his rump from the dry, destitute waste that the lands had become. His steps were uneven, perhaps an old injury that kept the old stallion from moving as fast as he used to. On his left forehoof say a black shoe, that seemed to shimmer like the glossy glaze in his pupils. White brows frame his ruby eyes, mane and tail unkempt. Over his hind limbs were wraps of leather to keep his creaky bones stiff, making the long walks bearable. "No, not now." he muttered, glancing up at his horn. "The mischief comes later." His red eyes drew upward, eyes squinting as a scowl pressed his features. Grunting the stallion continued on, his saddlebag heavy with either rocks or discarded debris he felt would be useful for a later time. One of his pouches sat heavy with his tarp, his only home in the barren landscape.
Dark Strife sniffing he jumped a bit, hacked up, scruffy tail stiffening. "No!" He raised his hoof, glaring at the shoe. "Hush now, I know we've just visited Canterlot a fortnight ago, but if we miss them, t'would be fault of yours." He accused, only to receive silence in return. "That's what I thought, come along!" The old gentlecolt's pace picked up, the shoe clearly invigorated by the scolding! His pace slowed as he came upon the familiar path that led to a small, abandoned encampment. Sometimes it was inhabited, sometimes not. He did not like the company of the dark ones, so preferred to avoid it when he could. "Shhh..." He demanded of his horn, looking up in disdain. "We mustn't wake the nightmares..." He murmured. It was always nightmares. he had long since forgotten what the warm touch of light was like. It was always cold: the skin under his fur always standing on end when they began to whisper.
Spring Serenade. The Rusty Shoe was behind her now, all of her work there done. It had become a common practice of her now to wander the wastes as a healer, a worthy enough job to help rather than harm- and it provided plenty of work. The 'Shoe itself, as a crossroads, readily brought to her travelers wounded on their journey- whether by wildlife, raiders, or sickness. It was.. about the only thing she felt like she could do for Equestria now, even if it was neverending. It still earned her money to get by, money of which she could buy more food and supplies with before she returned home. The sun had begun to set during that trip back, forcing her to the remains of a favored spot of travelers, sheltered as it was by the few trees and spindly plants that struggled there. Spring relieved herself of her heavy saddlebags by one of the salvaged seats so that she could begin a fire. She laid dead twigs and branches over the ashes of the old and set it ablaze with a spark of magic. It would serve well enough for the night to come. And she hoped it would be a peaceful one, if nothing chose to sneak up on her.
Dark Strife's grey pelt blended in well with the dead environment, though he was not the most silent of stallions. The black shoe on his front hoof clicked softly as he stepped, the rattle haunting as the sun sunk from the skies. He arched his back, as if burned by such an action. "Every time!" he spat venomously. "She doesn't want us to find her, so she hides behind the moon." He was quiet for several seconds. "No...the moon is silent, she won't speak -- she was always good at keeping secrets." His head snapped up, a spark of magic and the light of a fire. The crackling sparks of the flames ravenously consuming their meal. Food -- sleep -- things the spirit did not need, but it often did not stop him from gnawing on a stray tin can, or dining with the more friendly mice -- or were they rats? He could not tell, given all that remained was twisted and mangled. Just like his mind.
Dark Strife narrowed his eyes, the claret iris drowned the glassy, black pupil. Perhaps the old stallion's vision wasn't what it used to be -- or it was just another 'side effect'. He became silent, listening. Eyes snap upward, his horn sputtering as it tried to rouse from its disuse. "Oh? Her?" He refocused his line of sight. "Oh...she'd make a fine meal." He smacked his lips, jaws parting to reveal rows of razor-sharp fangs, only for the illusion to fade. His horn vibrated as a burst of magic escaped. The chaos fiend would tamper with her fire, but the malicious magic would do more than intended. He had only planned to put the fire out, leave the mare vulnerable, but a nearby glass would fall into the fire, the warped, weather exposed bottle would only crack from the sudden exposure to heat from the cold, causing a few, small pieces to scatter. It did not matter, it was a chance to feed on the chaos, keep himself away and away from the nightmares for a few more hours.
Spring Serenade stood by the firepit, watching the flames slowly grow within the carefully placed circle of rocks. She knew how to make a campfire, but one never knew if they might sputter out prematurely. It was not a windy night, so she could relax. She turned to move over to her bags and the seat she'd chosen for the night, and froze halfway there. She was certain she heard a voice coming from the dead brush at the area's edge just then. Spitting, angry. Spring's head jerked around and she peered into the lengthening shadows, her horn lighting in a faded blue glow.. Yet she had hardly a chance to demand they reveal their presence before something fell into the flames. The crack of heated glass bursting in the heat surprised her, drawing out a yelp as she jumped a little away from the frames. It was one of the many discarded glass bottles, but how had that happened?
Dark Strife pulled his head back, rattling with laughter. The manic sound bled into the growing night as the echoes created by the empty waste amplified the imp's presence. He scuffled out from the withered landscape, his shoe clicking against the ground. The shoe looked quite -- beautiful, not a fit for the greying stallion. "Spooked filly?" The older male guffawed. "You shouldn't be out alone at such an hour, don'tchu know the Alicorn come down from the hills at this time?" he looked to the side, hoof raising up to his ear, the cold, muddied shoe pressed against his cheek, further dirtying his grey fur. "Might as well be..." He affirmed something, the spark of chaos, though not very different from the malignant spew that filled the wastes, was his creation. It was not some bastardized attempt at chaos. This rampant destruction was tasteless. There was no finesse nor class to it.
Dark Strife spat as he kicked away a piece of glass, moving to climb atop one of the dilapidated structures travelers used as seats. His right leg was raised up awkwardly, the male sitting as if he were a dragon with his forehoofs between his haunches, hoofs scooted back as if he was clung to the seat's edge. "I agree with them." He finally spoke as he stared at the crackling fire, the heated glass discoloring, while smaller pieces were spat out occasionally. "You're alone." He blurted out, head snapping up as if he was spooked by his own words. "Like Tartarus I is!" He growled before laughing out. "Reckon you've got a pretty fire there, even the bottles came by ta warm up. You know they miss it too." He bade raising a hoof to let the heat warm the uncovered toe. The glass that occasionally spat in his direction was ignored, a piece or to latching to his matted coat.
Spring Serenade's head whipped away from the campfire when that laughter rattled up from the growing dark. So somepony was there, after all, and they were toying with her! Her horn blazed back to life, unfettered by dark magic, as she faced the shadows- and one of them was moving. It was soon revealed by the light of the fire to be a grey stallion, with a single shoe on one hoof. The second he said 'alicorn' a jolt of fear, fear of discovery, went shooting through her chest. It prompted her to check her cloak, making sure it was in place, while the pony was busy getting comfortable with his crazed spiel. Spring wasn't sure whether to be angry with him or feel sorry for him. Though, there was something about him, more so the shoe he wore, that bothered her. "What are you prattling on about? Who are you?" Spring demanded. "Were I so inclined... I could have struck out in defense after a trick like that! I would rather not have hurt another pony if I could help it."
Dark Strife shifted his weight after that hoof was warmed, he shifted his rump so his other forehoof was raised. He was too focused on the warmth rather than her finangling with herself. Ladies and their preening! His ears pricked up, hooves coming down as he sunk back, , elbows settling over the back of the seat. He took a casual, laidback position, though it looked rather strange given his knobby knees were crooked all about. "You ask a lot of questions." He stated, before motioning his hoof. "The first two aren't really important, but the last question shows promise." Wait, she only asked two questioned. "Were you so inclined?" He motioned the shoed hoof at her, clicking his teeth, a quick flash of a misshapen tooth among the old ivories. "I suppose if you were so inclined -- but you weren't, since that's all it was, a trick." He turned his head back to the fire.
Dark Strife bounced his left leg over his knee, the limb stilling for a moment. "Since it couldn't have been nothing more than a trick of the mind." he motioned to his horn as it sputtered uselessly. "Wind plays tricks. I'm a bit jealous." He lamented before sitting up. "Eeyup... at least it still has a sense of humor."
Spring Serenade flicked her ears back when the stallion responded, and the more he spoke the more she was certain he was crazy. Old age. It was a wonder the wastelands hadn't taken him sooner. She caught the strange glint of his teeth and narrowed her eyes. Had that been a.. ? No, it must have been just the firelight playing tricks on her eyes. The mare shook her head and she finally let the dulling magic around her horn fizzle out. "Such tricks could be seen as dangerous to some. There are those in the wastelands that would use them as an excuse to strike you down." Spring replied gravely. "Since you seem to have invited yourself, perhaps you should introduce yourself, stranger. It would.. set my mind more at ease to know it."
Dark Strife looked to his shoe, as if intrigued by something at the bottom. He raised his other hoof and buffed the bottom until it gave a dull shine. He grumbled in his chest, an ear swiveling toward the mare as he leaned back. "Are you that sort I wonder?" He paused before brushing the bottom of the shoe off in his coat. "You know, that was born here? Can't be no older than this blister." He pulled the shoe off a bit as if he was going to show it, before sliding it back on with a snap, eyes narrowing. "You just want my shoe." he accused. "Knowin' a stallion's true name lets mares of the waste bewitch 'em!" He laughed out. "Well joke's on you! I can't remember my name! Not like I have it written on my butt." Which -- he did, but fourth wall aside, there did appear to be some initials stitched in his saddlebag: D. He waved his hoof dismissively and looked back to the fire. "It seems something a witch would say."
Dark Strife had no sense to him, but neither did he seem very dangerous. he was relaxed, likely someone who's been around the pond more than once. But -- his pond was frozen. Sitting in the middle of the icy trap, unable to move as anytime he tried, the cracks beneath him would spread. All the veins of fracturing crystal leading no where. He searched, back and forth, day and night, and could find neither hide, nor hair, of whom he searched for. They were very good at hide and seek! But he would not forfeit! "Listen, witch, if you're not a witch, than you should know it's common courtesy to give your name first, asking for a strangers, let alone your elder, is downright unkindly. We may live in Tartarus' butt crack, but at least the sun raises on this cheek." He -- had really weird analogies.
Bygone Echo found himself stuck out in the wasteland out in the middle of the night! That... was not a fun place to be at all. He'd managed to bypass a good number of beasts and even a few bandits, but he really needed to find somewhere to take a bit of a rest! Thankfully his armor was tinted to give him a little bit of an advantage at night, right? And the hat actually helped cover up his somewhat bright green/red mane... His tail wasn't as easy. It was as his eyes were starting to droop just a little that he heard a... voice? No ~ Two voices! He suddenly snapped awake and in a fit of curiosity tried to creep towards the pair of ponies. Were they... friendly? How ever was a pony to survive out in the wastes without friends?! He was barely able to get by, but that was because he was small and thus more difficult to catch.
Spring Serenade shook her head hesitantly at the first question, her brow furrowing. She stepped back towards the seat her supplies sat near and placed herself upon it. To his insane ramblings of 'stealing his shoe' and witches, she could only listen in puzzlement. The shoe though.. it had to be hers. It had been long since she cast aside her crown, but it had to be. "Spring Serenade." Spring stated without a thought- a name her lips had finally grown used to shaping instead of her old name. Something in his analogy, though, caught her attention. It made little sense to her, most of it, but the word that snagged was sun. Sun. Moon. Her head jerked up to the still, dark twilit sky and she realized, oh, it was time! If she did not, Autumn might worry something had befallen her. Spring turned to her bags, wondering how she could bring the night with a stranger watching.. Biting her lower lip, she lit her horn and feigned looking through a saddlebag while she connected to the moon. It took a little effort, pretending while performing her nightly duty, but soon the moon would slowly rise over the horizon to take its place in the sky. Spring was so busy with this action she failed to notice that a new set of eyes were watching them.
Dark Strife had not noticed the little spy in their midst, his attention on the fire, mostly. This mare -- didn't seem twisted at all. A bit testy, but hardly twisted. It was gentle company that didn't make his horn twist and his fangs gnash. He gave a wave with a limp wristed motion. "Oh dear, you look nothing like a Spring." He sat up properly, but his knobbly legs crookedly sat. He was likely worn from travel, his age catching up with him, or perhaps it was an old war wound that acted up sometimes. The old stallion gave a laugh, pointing his dully glittering, shoed hoof, at her. He narrowed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. "You look like the eventide!" He nodded assertively before slumping back, only for the covered hoof to hit his muzzle. "No." he bade. "She looks nothing like the night. Her coat is clearly corn flower blue!" His ears folded back with a huff. "Fine, I'll ask her."
Dark Strife turned to her, sitting up with his left hoof pulled up to his chest in a elegant manner. "Well I am sorry to ask, but we're in a bit of a bind regarding our decision. Are you corn flower blue, or periwinkle? You see I believe all the time in the mud has left my friend a bit blind when it comes to colors." W-was he talking to the shoe? He looked up as the moon began to raise. The lass weaseled into her bag. The cantankerous old cuckoo jumped off the seat, only to stagger forward, his rear legs going into the air before he chin planted. He rushed to his hooves. "I caught you!" He galloped in a circle, before giving a jump, of which he hit an unsteady landing with. "Damnit!" He pulled his covered hoof up and stamped it. "I didn't see her." he sneered. He glared up at his horn. "Lair, you saw no more than we!" He declared the horn a fibber, for he and the hoof saw naught the same thing!
Bygone Echo stood not too far off and stared at the two ponies with no small amount of curiosity... That grey pony was funny! He would make a wonderful friend would he not! The little unicorn shouldered his bag and made to slip towards the campfire. An adjustment of that ancient oversized hat of his and he smiled somewhat overly wide. "Hello!" How in the kriffen heck did he potentially sneak up on them like that yes? It was probably enough to get blasted in some places, but... well... he doubted that he'd wind up blasted right? Though it didn't hurt to have a leg bent and ready to run from them if they turned out to be raiders or bandits or.... crazy ponies! Heavens forbid they were crazy ponies! He didn't know how he'd deal with crazy ponies... But so far the stallion was talking to a shoe and the mare was digging in her pack. Nothing much to see there yet!
Spring Serenade let go of the moon once it was on its appointed arc and drew out a bottle of cleansed water; she might as well keep up appearances. "Oh, ah, do I?" She said, straightening back up with the bottle floating in her magical grasp. When she heard that 'She looks nothing like the night' her shoulders tensed and her eyes returned to the old stallion, freezing in place when he suddenly exclaimed 'I caught you!' What was she to think? "I.. I would say I may be closer to periwinkle?" Spring said hesitantly. "Ah, perhaps that shoe may be a tad too big on you or you must be dehydrated to act so. Here, you should have some water." The offer had no sooner left her lips when another voice joined them, and it belonged to.. a foal! Spring stared for a moment and struggled to gather her wits around her. "Evening.. where are your parents? Surely it is too dark for a foal like you to be alone." She said, frowning at the little foal. Something about his appearance too tickled at her mind. Familiar. An echo of something. Spring shook her head, wondering if it was just the past looming up to haunt her from a brighter time. Silly!
Dark Strife stared up at the moon, having a quiet argument by himself. He looked to the shoe, nodding, only to shake his head. "Madam, rude! I do not make up colors." He asserted. He seemed to look between his shoe and horn, though his back was to the mare so only the shaking of his head was visible. "Now, now you two... we've been together too long to fight over something so petty..." He backed up, gasping in horror. "Blasphemy. You know magic doesn't exist!" Nor friendship for that matter. His back arched as a the woman proclaimed his shoe too loose. "This attempted theft of my shoe, will not work. It is actually very tight on me!" Seeing as twas made for the hoof of a lady. Suddenly a shrill voice rocked the night. The mad unicorn blinked, his ears pricking up. He twitched and looked to the horn, his left hoof pulling up to his chest like a grey flamingo. His eyes narrowed as he stilled. "I can see that, thank you for pointing out the obvious."
Dark Strife his brain seemed to spark up, shouting at him about something. But -- he was gone. He lowered his head. "I never did get to tell him about tail hugs..." He regretted a long forgotten memory. "Tis peculiar." He assured his shoe, or was it his horn? "SKIN STEALER!" He neighed out. His brow furrowed, the stallion sitting back on his haunches. "Oh, you can't do that? But I distinctly rememb-- oh, right yes. I was wondering if anyone had the time."
Bygone Echo inclined his head some at the two to the point that the hat just about fell off! But he quickly caught it. Whatever enchantments that had once kept it stuck to one's head likely long sense faded.. But were the other functions? Who knows! Then again would anyone even recognize the hat?! The little unicorn looked to the mare curiously and let his head tilt. "Oh ~ Well... they were killed by Griffons..." he'd say with his ears laying back only to perk once again. "All I could find was pappy's hat! Buuuut ever since then I've been on my own. ~ Oh! I'm Bygone. Bygone Echo! Nice to meetcha both!" he smiled happily between the two.
Spring Serenade looked back around at the unicorn stallion, brow furrowed. "I did not say you made it up. Certainly my coat.." She let the sentence trail off when he began to argue with himself again, and she could only stare at the back of his head. It took her some effort to bite back a comment about the shoe.. It is my shoe, and if I recall my size, a bit too large for an average pony! He was crazy though, and she need not complicate matters. Spring levitated over the previously offered bottle of water where the shouting pony could reach it while she turned her attention back to the foal. His name prompted her to twitch from the recognition. "B-Bygone?" Spring echoed. She.. remembered him well enough, though dead of old age before all of this mess- whatever old age was to changelings. "I am Spring." She tried to recover, taking a calming breath with it. "That is most terrible to hear. Do you not have any other relatives?"
Dark Strife pricked his ears up at the levitating bottle. "Alicorn magic!" He jumped at the bottle and stabbed it in his horn. Water washed over his skull, the loon lapping up the draining fluid from his muzzle's end. he pranced over toward the mare and foal as he spoke his name. "Ha!" He suddenly called out. "I knew it!" He pointed his elegant lady shoe at the foal. "This is mine." The unicorn said, motioning to the tophat. He nodded assuredly as he reached up to pat his head and popped off the speared drink bottle. He held it to the foal. "Trade ya. You can put water in it." Now just hold on there a darn, tooting minute! The male did not seem all there, but sometimes there was a moment of clarity amongst the insanity for as he offered a hole-punctured water bottle to the foal he glanced over to the mare. "You're rather clever filly. Not many can use magic that well anymore. You're weird." He cackled.
Bygone Echo would hardly have been able to help but jump some whenever the pony yelled out Alicorn Magic! He practically fell off over and hid behind the nearest log if there was one! "A-alicorn where?!" he'd ask as he poked his head up. Then his attention was returned to the nice mare who was asking him questions! He slowed to a pause and then his ears fell. "No.... I doubt that the 'great-great-great -to-the-nth-degree-great-grand-'uncle' 'Dissy' exists still even if my pappy said he might....No, no relatives... Just me." He sighed and scuffed a hoof upon the ground some. When the pony with the shoe tried to ask for him to trade his hat for a.... speared water bottle... he let out a rather odd sound. "No! Why would I trade my family's hat!" he'd ask as he quickly went to hide on the other side of Spring.
Spring Serenade jerked a little when the stallion shouted about alicorn magic.. and proceeded to spear the water bottle. There went half its drinkable contents, and precious too when most of the water in the wastelands was tainted by dark magic! She frowned at such a frivolous use of resource, and one she'd offered in generosity. "Unicorn magic, how it should be." Spring corrected and looked thoughtful. He seemed old, but how would he have lived that long to know.. ? Other than through stories, of course. Her attention turned to the foal when he went scrambling, and mentioned a familiar nickname. So more than just Bygone's hat had been passed down, was it? "Dissy? You mean Dis-.." Spring caught herself before it was too late, biting her tongue. "I do not think my sister would appreciate my bringing in a foal, but surely you could find somewhere to live? These wastelands are a dangerous place, far more for a foal.." Spring continued with a frown and gave the unnamed stallion a glance; he seemed oddly determined for that hat. "Leave him be."
Dark Strife stared at the foal with displeasure, than looked to the pierced bottle. What was wrong with a perfectly legitimate trade? The cap had to be worth something, right? The male settled back on his haunches. He tilted his head and moved to remove the cap, wondering what had him so perplexed about this pair. Peering through he would look to the mare and foal. The distorted image caused his brows to furrow. through his looking glass, they didn't seem very different. Now a days the nightmares distorted everything, making it hard to tell the dreams and nightmares apart from reality. His reality balanced on a fine line between loneliness and spite. His ears swiveled forward before he settled to push the bottle into his saddlebags, resting back on all fours. He had a crook in his back, that gave him a devious looking hunch. His rotten mood often kept his face pressed to a scowl. "I see." He looked to the mare when she corrected him.
Dark Strife was quite old. he could have been a tribe's storyteller and just grew too old to care with using limited resources. Some stories could have still existed among older tribes, but who was to say. "He motioned his hoof. "Yes, I am part unicorn. Also half dragon." he puffed his chest out and pranced on his forehooves as he thought. "Your great-great-great-to-the-nth-degree-great-grand-uncle?" He rubbed his chin. He blinked and looked back to is rump. "That's it!" He reared up in excitement. "That's my name!" He turned and presented his butt to the pair, well his saddlebags! "The letter on my bag!" He proudly held up his head, the badly stitched letter 'D' on his pouch. "Dark! Dark Strife is my name!" At least that was the face he had remembered picking. It was the calmer tide to his nature, the one that could perhaps survive this putrid, rotten waste of false chaos....
Bygone Echo let out a bit of a shrug. "Who would want to take in a foal out in the wasteland?" what was all he'd really say to the comment about finding somewhere to live. If he stayed in a town he'd likely get taken advantage of - If he came out here he ran the risk of dying... There was not really much else for the little foal to do out in the wastes besides scrape by! Bygone more often than not found himself simply out scavenging for supplies or raiding bandit camps! He'd yet to be caught, thankfully, but his luck couldn't make up for everything forever! The little unicorn started to perk up some whenever the unicorn seemed to realize something only to find out it was... his name? "I.. happy to meet you Mister Strife." he'd say with a bit of an unsure grin.
Spring Serenade found the unicorn's next bit of speech to be calmer than before, but still not quite as sane as she could hope. The 'part unicorn, part dragon' thing did catch her attention and intrigued her. He showed no draconic hints in his appearance, so far as she could tell, but who else did she know to be a draconequus? This pony seemed crazy, though, what could she take as truth in his mad ramblings? Yet.. it was oddly specific. Spring's gaze flicked to the saddlebags' lone letter as they were presented, and she felt another jab of recognition. Strife.. she knew that name. Had known somepony, grey too, with that name. Surely nothing but ghosts. Spring forced her mind onto other paths and looked around at where the foal had hid by her. "There is.. a family that runs the Rusty Shoe. They have foals.. perhaps they may be willing to take in another?" That was the only thing she could think of; albeit a family of earth ponies, they were friendly enough and kept the Shoe a peaceful place.
Dark Strife sat back on his haunches with a proud cock of his head. He was quite proud remembering his name! Weeks, sometimes months, went by without any pony around to know him long enough to solidify a memory, nor anyone to call him... He used to have another name that could strike -- memory in those who knew his achievements. The friends he made, the family he tried to hold onto, slipped right through his... Hooves? Did he always have these? He stared at his shoeless toe with up-twisted brows. It wasn't right. There was something he was forgetting. "I'm late..." he murmured. "Do the trains run? I'll take the lad there, for it seems I'm late for a very important date." Like clockwork the spirit would walk that lonely road.
Dark Strife haunted by the knowledge he was too late. He dare not alter what had come to pass, but he sometimes wondered of there was any time worse than this? But he was reminded, often, by his horn that there remained the hope. He wouldn't always need them, even if it was just a pair of corpses he found... He became distraught. "I've not much to offer in the way of protection, but I can ensure the lad get on the train. I hear Canterlot is fabulous this time of year." If he was late getting there his would miss them again!
Bygone Echo looked between the two ponies with curiosity. "I... no.. I should move on. I don't want to make them have another mouth to feed." he'd say quietly to Serenade with a bit of a smile. However...He couldn't tell why but something seemed to be bothering the odd grey pony. With a smile the unicorn did what his family typically did when he got distressed in some way. Plus it was a nice thank-you for the offer for protection! The little unicorn hopped right over and hugged the grey pony's foreleg! "Thank you Mister Strife.... Supposedly Canterlot is one place N'th Grand-uncle Dissy liked to go to as well!" It wouldn't hurt to check there, right? If he could get there.... He had no idea what he meant by the train running.... A train hadn't run in a long time... right? Or did they get a train running?! That would be awesome!
Spring Serenade looked up to Strife when he murmured something, and seemed to be inspecting his hoof. "The.. the trains?" She echoed. "No, they have not run for a very long time. The old Friendship Express is just a rusting hulk at the heart of the Rusty Shoe." She said without thinking, staring at him. Her head turned a little towards the foal when he moved by her and hugged Strife's foreleg. "There is no need to worry about food there! They get regular shipments of it, and merchants pass through with their own." Spring assured the foal, even though his back was to her. "It is too dark to be venturing out, regardless. You two should stay until morning comes, when it will be safer in the light. I will take first watch, if need be, and keep the fire going."
Dark Strife gave a joyful nod. "Oh yes, the rays are quite friendly!" When he was suddenly hugged the unicorn stills. The old stallion lowered himself to his knees, which seemed quite the effort for the oldtimer. He would move his head to attempt to move the foal close to him, like he was family. Any pony would huddle up with others for safety, especially in such a world. "Come now young filly!" He motioned his head nearby. "Young ones need their rest!" When she mentioned the train's name he tilted his head. A train that ran on friendships and dreams... "You view the world... with many past tenses. I much prefer that sort of world. It's why I know they are waiting for me. I am sure you umpteenth uncle is there tyke! Everyone has parting and meetings in Canterlot! " With that the old man laid his head down, but he would not sleep, for that would call dreams...
Bygone Echo found the hug of his having the result of causing the stallion to lower to his knees and then... pull him closer? The foal was too tired to pull away so he just let it happen and took up a rather comfortable position right there like... family? How he missed that... His attention turned to Serenade even as he yawned. "Mmm... Maybe ~ Would be nice." he all but muttered as he let his head drop onto his forelegs.... Rather quickly he'd have gone right off to sleep all but cuddled up against the somewhat crazy unicorn.
Spring Serenade observed the effect the hug had on the old unicorn, and it made for something quite touching once they were settled down in the comfort of closeness. She met Strife's eyes with an almost sad gaze and tore them away, giving herself a moment to think. The mare stood and circled on her patch of sofa and folded her legs gracefully beneath her, a comfortable position. "It was better then, but the world has moved on since." Spring replied solemnly and fell silent, noting how quickly the foal had fallen asleep. No doubt the old stallion would follow suit, and she would be there to keep the terrors of night at bay. Was that not what she did, once upon a time? It seemed some things never changed.
Dark Strife sniffing he jumped a bit, hacked up, scruffy tail stiffening. "No!" He raised his hoof, glaring at the shoe. "Hush now, I know we've just visited Canterlot a fortnight ago, but if we miss them, t'would be fault of yours." He accused, only to receive silence in return. "That's what I thought, come along!" The old gentlecolt's pace picked up, the shoe clearly invigorated by the scolding! His pace slowed as he came upon the familiar path that led to a small, abandoned encampment. Sometimes it was inhabited, sometimes not. He did not like the company of the dark ones, so preferred to avoid it when he could. "Shhh..." He demanded of his horn, looking up in disdain. "We mustn't wake the nightmares..." He murmured. It was always nightmares. he had long since forgotten what the warm touch of light was like. It was always cold: the skin under his fur always standing on end when they began to whisper.
Spring Serenade. The Rusty Shoe was behind her now, all of her work there done. It had become a common practice of her now to wander the wastes as a healer, a worthy enough job to help rather than harm- and it provided plenty of work. The 'Shoe itself, as a crossroads, readily brought to her travelers wounded on their journey- whether by wildlife, raiders, or sickness. It was.. about the only thing she felt like she could do for Equestria now, even if it was neverending. It still earned her money to get by, money of which she could buy more food and supplies with before she returned home. The sun had begun to set during that trip back, forcing her to the remains of a favored spot of travelers, sheltered as it was by the few trees and spindly plants that struggled there. Spring relieved herself of her heavy saddlebags by one of the salvaged seats so that she could begin a fire. She laid dead twigs and branches over the ashes of the old and set it ablaze with a spark of magic. It would serve well enough for the night to come. And she hoped it would be a peaceful one, if nothing chose to sneak up on her.
Dark Strife's grey pelt blended in well with the dead environment, though he was not the most silent of stallions. The black shoe on his front hoof clicked softly as he stepped, the rattle haunting as the sun sunk from the skies. He arched his back, as if burned by such an action. "Every time!" he spat venomously. "She doesn't want us to find her, so she hides behind the moon." He was quiet for several seconds. "No...the moon is silent, she won't speak -- she was always good at keeping secrets." His head snapped up, a spark of magic and the light of a fire. The crackling sparks of the flames ravenously consuming their meal. Food -- sleep -- things the spirit did not need, but it often did not stop him from gnawing on a stray tin can, or dining with the more friendly mice -- or were they rats? He could not tell, given all that remained was twisted and mangled. Just like his mind.
Dark Strife narrowed his eyes, the claret iris drowned the glassy, black pupil. Perhaps the old stallion's vision wasn't what it used to be -- or it was just another 'side effect'. He became silent, listening. Eyes snap upward, his horn sputtering as it tried to rouse from its disuse. "Oh? Her?" He refocused his line of sight. "Oh...she'd make a fine meal." He smacked his lips, jaws parting to reveal rows of razor-sharp fangs, only for the illusion to fade. His horn vibrated as a burst of magic escaped. The chaos fiend would tamper with her fire, but the malicious magic would do more than intended. He had only planned to put the fire out, leave the mare vulnerable, but a nearby glass would fall into the fire, the warped, weather exposed bottle would only crack from the sudden exposure to heat from the cold, causing a few, small pieces to scatter. It did not matter, it was a chance to feed on the chaos, keep himself away and away from the nightmares for a few more hours.
Spring Serenade stood by the firepit, watching the flames slowly grow within the carefully placed circle of rocks. She knew how to make a campfire, but one never knew if they might sputter out prematurely. It was not a windy night, so she could relax. She turned to move over to her bags and the seat she'd chosen for the night, and froze halfway there. She was certain she heard a voice coming from the dead brush at the area's edge just then. Spitting, angry. Spring's head jerked around and she peered into the lengthening shadows, her horn lighting in a faded blue glow.. Yet she had hardly a chance to demand they reveal their presence before something fell into the flames. The crack of heated glass bursting in the heat surprised her, drawing out a yelp as she jumped a little away from the frames. It was one of the many discarded glass bottles, but how had that happened?
Dark Strife pulled his head back, rattling with laughter. The manic sound bled into the growing night as the echoes created by the empty waste amplified the imp's presence. He scuffled out from the withered landscape, his shoe clicking against the ground. The shoe looked quite -- beautiful, not a fit for the greying stallion. "Spooked filly?" The older male guffawed. "You shouldn't be out alone at such an hour, don'tchu know the Alicorn come down from the hills at this time?" he looked to the side, hoof raising up to his ear, the cold, muddied shoe pressed against his cheek, further dirtying his grey fur. "Might as well be..." He affirmed something, the spark of chaos, though not very different from the malignant spew that filled the wastes, was his creation. It was not some bastardized attempt at chaos. This rampant destruction was tasteless. There was no finesse nor class to it.
Dark Strife spat as he kicked away a piece of glass, moving to climb atop one of the dilapidated structures travelers used as seats. His right leg was raised up awkwardly, the male sitting as if he were a dragon with his forehoofs between his haunches, hoofs scooted back as if he was clung to the seat's edge. "I agree with them." He finally spoke as he stared at the crackling fire, the heated glass discoloring, while smaller pieces were spat out occasionally. "You're alone." He blurted out, head snapping up as if he was spooked by his own words. "Like Tartarus I is!" He growled before laughing out. "Reckon you've got a pretty fire there, even the bottles came by ta warm up. You know they miss it too." He bade raising a hoof to let the heat warm the uncovered toe. The glass that occasionally spat in his direction was ignored, a piece or to latching to his matted coat.
Spring Serenade's head whipped away from the campfire when that laughter rattled up from the growing dark. So somepony was there, after all, and they were toying with her! Her horn blazed back to life, unfettered by dark magic, as she faced the shadows- and one of them was moving. It was soon revealed by the light of the fire to be a grey stallion, with a single shoe on one hoof. The second he said 'alicorn' a jolt of fear, fear of discovery, went shooting through her chest. It prompted her to check her cloak, making sure it was in place, while the pony was busy getting comfortable with his crazed spiel. Spring wasn't sure whether to be angry with him or feel sorry for him. Though, there was something about him, more so the shoe he wore, that bothered her. "What are you prattling on about? Who are you?" Spring demanded. "Were I so inclined... I could have struck out in defense after a trick like that! I would rather not have hurt another pony if I could help it."
Dark Strife shifted his weight after that hoof was warmed, he shifted his rump so his other forehoof was raised. He was too focused on the warmth rather than her finangling with herself. Ladies and their preening! His ears pricked up, hooves coming down as he sunk back, , elbows settling over the back of the seat. He took a casual, laidback position, though it looked rather strange given his knobby knees were crooked all about. "You ask a lot of questions." He stated, before motioning his hoof. "The first two aren't really important, but the last question shows promise." Wait, she only asked two questioned. "Were you so inclined?" He motioned the shoed hoof at her, clicking his teeth, a quick flash of a misshapen tooth among the old ivories. "I suppose if you were so inclined -- but you weren't, since that's all it was, a trick." He turned his head back to the fire.
Dark Strife bounced his left leg over his knee, the limb stilling for a moment. "Since it couldn't have been nothing more than a trick of the mind." he motioned to his horn as it sputtered uselessly. "Wind plays tricks. I'm a bit jealous." He lamented before sitting up. "Eeyup... at least it still has a sense of humor."
Spring Serenade flicked her ears back when the stallion responded, and the more he spoke the more she was certain he was crazy. Old age. It was a wonder the wastelands hadn't taken him sooner. She caught the strange glint of his teeth and narrowed her eyes. Had that been a.. ? No, it must have been just the firelight playing tricks on her eyes. The mare shook her head and she finally let the dulling magic around her horn fizzle out. "Such tricks could be seen as dangerous to some. There are those in the wastelands that would use them as an excuse to strike you down." Spring replied gravely. "Since you seem to have invited yourself, perhaps you should introduce yourself, stranger. It would.. set my mind more at ease to know it."
Dark Strife looked to his shoe, as if intrigued by something at the bottom. He raised his other hoof and buffed the bottom until it gave a dull shine. He grumbled in his chest, an ear swiveling toward the mare as he leaned back. "Are you that sort I wonder?" He paused before brushing the bottom of the shoe off in his coat. "You know, that was born here? Can't be no older than this blister." He pulled the shoe off a bit as if he was going to show it, before sliding it back on with a snap, eyes narrowing. "You just want my shoe." he accused. "Knowin' a stallion's true name lets mares of the waste bewitch 'em!" He laughed out. "Well joke's on you! I can't remember my name! Not like I have it written on my butt." Which -- he did, but fourth wall aside, there did appear to be some initials stitched in his saddlebag: D. He waved his hoof dismissively and looked back to the fire. "It seems something a witch would say."
Dark Strife had no sense to him, but neither did he seem very dangerous. he was relaxed, likely someone who's been around the pond more than once. But -- his pond was frozen. Sitting in the middle of the icy trap, unable to move as anytime he tried, the cracks beneath him would spread. All the veins of fracturing crystal leading no where. He searched, back and forth, day and night, and could find neither hide, nor hair, of whom he searched for. They were very good at hide and seek! But he would not forfeit! "Listen, witch, if you're not a witch, than you should know it's common courtesy to give your name first, asking for a strangers, let alone your elder, is downright unkindly. We may live in Tartarus' butt crack, but at least the sun raises on this cheek." He -- had really weird analogies.
Bygone Echo found himself stuck out in the wasteland out in the middle of the night! That... was not a fun place to be at all. He'd managed to bypass a good number of beasts and even a few bandits, but he really needed to find somewhere to take a bit of a rest! Thankfully his armor was tinted to give him a little bit of an advantage at night, right? And the hat actually helped cover up his somewhat bright green/red mane... His tail wasn't as easy. It was as his eyes were starting to droop just a little that he heard a... voice? No ~ Two voices! He suddenly snapped awake and in a fit of curiosity tried to creep towards the pair of ponies. Were they... friendly? How ever was a pony to survive out in the wastes without friends?! He was barely able to get by, but that was because he was small and thus more difficult to catch.
Spring Serenade shook her head hesitantly at the first question, her brow furrowing. She stepped back towards the seat her supplies sat near and placed herself upon it. To his insane ramblings of 'stealing his shoe' and witches, she could only listen in puzzlement. The shoe though.. it had to be hers. It had been long since she cast aside her crown, but it had to be. "Spring Serenade." Spring stated without a thought- a name her lips had finally grown used to shaping instead of her old name. Something in his analogy, though, caught her attention. It made little sense to her, most of it, but the word that snagged was sun. Sun. Moon. Her head jerked up to the still, dark twilit sky and she realized, oh, it was time! If she did not, Autumn might worry something had befallen her. Spring turned to her bags, wondering how she could bring the night with a stranger watching.. Biting her lower lip, she lit her horn and feigned looking through a saddlebag while she connected to the moon. It took a little effort, pretending while performing her nightly duty, but soon the moon would slowly rise over the horizon to take its place in the sky. Spring was so busy with this action she failed to notice that a new set of eyes were watching them.
Dark Strife had not noticed the little spy in their midst, his attention on the fire, mostly. This mare -- didn't seem twisted at all. A bit testy, but hardly twisted. It was gentle company that didn't make his horn twist and his fangs gnash. He gave a wave with a limp wristed motion. "Oh dear, you look nothing like a Spring." He sat up properly, but his knobbly legs crookedly sat. He was likely worn from travel, his age catching up with him, or perhaps it was an old war wound that acted up sometimes. The old stallion gave a laugh, pointing his dully glittering, shoed hoof, at her. He narrowed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. "You look like the eventide!" He nodded assertively before slumping back, only for the covered hoof to hit his muzzle. "No." he bade. "She looks nothing like the night. Her coat is clearly corn flower blue!" His ears folded back with a huff. "Fine, I'll ask her."
Dark Strife turned to her, sitting up with his left hoof pulled up to his chest in a elegant manner. "Well I am sorry to ask, but we're in a bit of a bind regarding our decision. Are you corn flower blue, or periwinkle? You see I believe all the time in the mud has left my friend a bit blind when it comes to colors." W-was he talking to the shoe? He looked up as the moon began to raise. The lass weaseled into her bag. The cantankerous old cuckoo jumped off the seat, only to stagger forward, his rear legs going into the air before he chin planted. He rushed to his hooves. "I caught you!" He galloped in a circle, before giving a jump, of which he hit an unsteady landing with. "Damnit!" He pulled his covered hoof up and stamped it. "I didn't see her." he sneered. He glared up at his horn. "Lair, you saw no more than we!" He declared the horn a fibber, for he and the hoof saw naught the same thing!
Bygone Echo stood not too far off and stared at the two ponies with no small amount of curiosity... That grey pony was funny! He would make a wonderful friend would he not! The little unicorn shouldered his bag and made to slip towards the campfire. An adjustment of that ancient oversized hat of his and he smiled somewhat overly wide. "Hello!" How in the kriffen heck did he potentially sneak up on them like that yes? It was probably enough to get blasted in some places, but... well... he doubted that he'd wind up blasted right? Though it didn't hurt to have a leg bent and ready to run from them if they turned out to be raiders or bandits or.... crazy ponies! Heavens forbid they were crazy ponies! He didn't know how he'd deal with crazy ponies... But so far the stallion was talking to a shoe and the mare was digging in her pack. Nothing much to see there yet!
Spring Serenade let go of the moon once it was on its appointed arc and drew out a bottle of cleansed water; she might as well keep up appearances. "Oh, ah, do I?" She said, straightening back up with the bottle floating in her magical grasp. When she heard that 'She looks nothing like the night' her shoulders tensed and her eyes returned to the old stallion, freezing in place when he suddenly exclaimed 'I caught you!' What was she to think? "I.. I would say I may be closer to periwinkle?" Spring said hesitantly. "Ah, perhaps that shoe may be a tad too big on you or you must be dehydrated to act so. Here, you should have some water." The offer had no sooner left her lips when another voice joined them, and it belonged to.. a foal! Spring stared for a moment and struggled to gather her wits around her. "Evening.. where are your parents? Surely it is too dark for a foal like you to be alone." She said, frowning at the little foal. Something about his appearance too tickled at her mind. Familiar. An echo of something. Spring shook her head, wondering if it was just the past looming up to haunt her from a brighter time. Silly!
Dark Strife stared up at the moon, having a quiet argument by himself. He looked to the shoe, nodding, only to shake his head. "Madam, rude! I do not make up colors." He asserted. He seemed to look between his shoe and horn, though his back was to the mare so only the shaking of his head was visible. "Now, now you two... we've been together too long to fight over something so petty..." He backed up, gasping in horror. "Blasphemy. You know magic doesn't exist!" Nor friendship for that matter. His back arched as a the woman proclaimed his shoe too loose. "This attempted theft of my shoe, will not work. It is actually very tight on me!" Seeing as twas made for the hoof of a lady. Suddenly a shrill voice rocked the night. The mad unicorn blinked, his ears pricking up. He twitched and looked to the horn, his left hoof pulling up to his chest like a grey flamingo. His eyes narrowed as he stilled. "I can see that, thank you for pointing out the obvious."
Dark Strife his brain seemed to spark up, shouting at him about something. But -- he was gone. He lowered his head. "I never did get to tell him about tail hugs..." He regretted a long forgotten memory. "Tis peculiar." He assured his shoe, or was it his horn? "SKIN STEALER!" He neighed out. His brow furrowed, the stallion sitting back on his haunches. "Oh, you can't do that? But I distinctly rememb-- oh, right yes. I was wondering if anyone had the time."
Bygone Echo inclined his head some at the two to the point that the hat just about fell off! But he quickly caught it. Whatever enchantments that had once kept it stuck to one's head likely long sense faded.. But were the other functions? Who knows! Then again would anyone even recognize the hat?! The little unicorn looked to the mare curiously and let his head tilt. "Oh ~ Well... they were killed by Griffons..." he'd say with his ears laying back only to perk once again. "All I could find was pappy's hat! Buuuut ever since then I've been on my own. ~ Oh! I'm Bygone. Bygone Echo! Nice to meetcha both!" he smiled happily between the two.
Spring Serenade looked back around at the unicorn stallion, brow furrowed. "I did not say you made it up. Certainly my coat.." She let the sentence trail off when he began to argue with himself again, and she could only stare at the back of his head. It took her some effort to bite back a comment about the shoe.. It is my shoe, and if I recall my size, a bit too large for an average pony! He was crazy though, and she need not complicate matters. Spring levitated over the previously offered bottle of water where the shouting pony could reach it while she turned her attention back to the foal. His name prompted her to twitch from the recognition. "B-Bygone?" Spring echoed. She.. remembered him well enough, though dead of old age before all of this mess- whatever old age was to changelings. "I am Spring." She tried to recover, taking a calming breath with it. "That is most terrible to hear. Do you not have any other relatives?"
Dark Strife pricked his ears up at the levitating bottle. "Alicorn magic!" He jumped at the bottle and stabbed it in his horn. Water washed over his skull, the loon lapping up the draining fluid from his muzzle's end. he pranced over toward the mare and foal as he spoke his name. "Ha!" He suddenly called out. "I knew it!" He pointed his elegant lady shoe at the foal. "This is mine." The unicorn said, motioning to the tophat. He nodded assuredly as he reached up to pat his head and popped off the speared drink bottle. He held it to the foal. "Trade ya. You can put water in it." Now just hold on there a darn, tooting minute! The male did not seem all there, but sometimes there was a moment of clarity amongst the insanity for as he offered a hole-punctured water bottle to the foal he glanced over to the mare. "You're rather clever filly. Not many can use magic that well anymore. You're weird." He cackled.
Bygone Echo would hardly have been able to help but jump some whenever the pony yelled out Alicorn Magic! He practically fell off over and hid behind the nearest log if there was one! "A-alicorn where?!" he'd ask as he poked his head up. Then his attention was returned to the nice mare who was asking him questions! He slowed to a pause and then his ears fell. "No.... I doubt that the 'great-great-great -to-the-nth-degree-great-grand-'uncle' 'Dissy' exists still even if my pappy said he might....No, no relatives... Just me." He sighed and scuffed a hoof upon the ground some. When the pony with the shoe tried to ask for him to trade his hat for a.... speared water bottle... he let out a rather odd sound. "No! Why would I trade my family's hat!" he'd ask as he quickly went to hide on the other side of Spring.
Spring Serenade jerked a little when the stallion shouted about alicorn magic.. and proceeded to spear the water bottle. There went half its drinkable contents, and precious too when most of the water in the wastelands was tainted by dark magic! She frowned at such a frivolous use of resource, and one she'd offered in generosity. "Unicorn magic, how it should be." Spring corrected and looked thoughtful. He seemed old, but how would he have lived that long to know.. ? Other than through stories, of course. Her attention turned to the foal when he went scrambling, and mentioned a familiar nickname. So more than just Bygone's hat had been passed down, was it? "Dissy? You mean Dis-.." Spring caught herself before it was too late, biting her tongue. "I do not think my sister would appreciate my bringing in a foal, but surely you could find somewhere to live? These wastelands are a dangerous place, far more for a foal.." Spring continued with a frown and gave the unnamed stallion a glance; he seemed oddly determined for that hat. "Leave him be."
Dark Strife stared at the foal with displeasure, than looked to the pierced bottle. What was wrong with a perfectly legitimate trade? The cap had to be worth something, right? The male settled back on his haunches. He tilted his head and moved to remove the cap, wondering what had him so perplexed about this pair. Peering through he would look to the mare and foal. The distorted image caused his brows to furrow. through his looking glass, they didn't seem very different. Now a days the nightmares distorted everything, making it hard to tell the dreams and nightmares apart from reality. His reality balanced on a fine line between loneliness and spite. His ears swiveled forward before he settled to push the bottle into his saddlebags, resting back on all fours. He had a crook in his back, that gave him a devious looking hunch. His rotten mood often kept his face pressed to a scowl. "I see." He looked to the mare when she corrected him.
Dark Strife was quite old. he could have been a tribe's storyteller and just grew too old to care with using limited resources. Some stories could have still existed among older tribes, but who was to say. "He motioned his hoof. "Yes, I am part unicorn. Also half dragon." he puffed his chest out and pranced on his forehooves as he thought. "Your great-great-great-to-the-nth-degree-great-grand-uncle?" He rubbed his chin. He blinked and looked back to is rump. "That's it!" He reared up in excitement. "That's my name!" He turned and presented his butt to the pair, well his saddlebags! "The letter on my bag!" He proudly held up his head, the badly stitched letter 'D' on his pouch. "Dark! Dark Strife is my name!" At least that was the face he had remembered picking. It was the calmer tide to his nature, the one that could perhaps survive this putrid, rotten waste of false chaos....
Bygone Echo let out a bit of a shrug. "Who would want to take in a foal out in the wasteland?" what was all he'd really say to the comment about finding somewhere to live. If he stayed in a town he'd likely get taken advantage of - If he came out here he ran the risk of dying... There was not really much else for the little foal to do out in the wastes besides scrape by! Bygone more often than not found himself simply out scavenging for supplies or raiding bandit camps! He'd yet to be caught, thankfully, but his luck couldn't make up for everything forever! The little unicorn started to perk up some whenever the unicorn seemed to realize something only to find out it was... his name? "I.. happy to meet you Mister Strife." he'd say with a bit of an unsure grin.
Spring Serenade found the unicorn's next bit of speech to be calmer than before, but still not quite as sane as she could hope. The 'part unicorn, part dragon' thing did catch her attention and intrigued her. He showed no draconic hints in his appearance, so far as she could tell, but who else did she know to be a draconequus? This pony seemed crazy, though, what could she take as truth in his mad ramblings? Yet.. it was oddly specific. Spring's gaze flicked to the saddlebags' lone letter as they were presented, and she felt another jab of recognition. Strife.. she knew that name. Had known somepony, grey too, with that name. Surely nothing but ghosts. Spring forced her mind onto other paths and looked around at where the foal had hid by her. "There is.. a family that runs the Rusty Shoe. They have foals.. perhaps they may be willing to take in another?" That was the only thing she could think of; albeit a family of earth ponies, they were friendly enough and kept the Shoe a peaceful place.
Dark Strife sat back on his haunches with a proud cock of his head. He was quite proud remembering his name! Weeks, sometimes months, went by without any pony around to know him long enough to solidify a memory, nor anyone to call him... He used to have another name that could strike -- memory in those who knew his achievements. The friends he made, the family he tried to hold onto, slipped right through his... Hooves? Did he always have these? He stared at his shoeless toe with up-twisted brows. It wasn't right. There was something he was forgetting. "I'm late..." he murmured. "Do the trains run? I'll take the lad there, for it seems I'm late for a very important date." Like clockwork the spirit would walk that lonely road.
Dark Strife haunted by the knowledge he was too late. He dare not alter what had come to pass, but he sometimes wondered of there was any time worse than this? But he was reminded, often, by his horn that there remained the hope. He wouldn't always need them, even if it was just a pair of corpses he found... He became distraught. "I've not much to offer in the way of protection, but I can ensure the lad get on the train. I hear Canterlot is fabulous this time of year." If he was late getting there his would miss them again!
Bygone Echo looked between the two ponies with curiosity. "I... no.. I should move on. I don't want to make them have another mouth to feed." he'd say quietly to Serenade with a bit of a smile. However...He couldn't tell why but something seemed to be bothering the odd grey pony. With a smile the unicorn did what his family typically did when he got distressed in some way. Plus it was a nice thank-you for the offer for protection! The little unicorn hopped right over and hugged the grey pony's foreleg! "Thank you Mister Strife.... Supposedly Canterlot is one place N'th Grand-uncle Dissy liked to go to as well!" It wouldn't hurt to check there, right? If he could get there.... He had no idea what he meant by the train running.... A train hadn't run in a long time... right? Or did they get a train running?! That would be awesome!
Spring Serenade looked up to Strife when he murmured something, and seemed to be inspecting his hoof. "The.. the trains?" She echoed. "No, they have not run for a very long time. The old Friendship Express is just a rusting hulk at the heart of the Rusty Shoe." She said without thinking, staring at him. Her head turned a little towards the foal when he moved by her and hugged Strife's foreleg. "There is no need to worry about food there! They get regular shipments of it, and merchants pass through with their own." Spring assured the foal, even though his back was to her. "It is too dark to be venturing out, regardless. You two should stay until morning comes, when it will be safer in the light. I will take first watch, if need be, and keep the fire going."
Dark Strife gave a joyful nod. "Oh yes, the rays are quite friendly!" When he was suddenly hugged the unicorn stills. The old stallion lowered himself to his knees, which seemed quite the effort for the oldtimer. He would move his head to attempt to move the foal close to him, like he was family. Any pony would huddle up with others for safety, especially in such a world. "Come now young filly!" He motioned his head nearby. "Young ones need their rest!" When she mentioned the train's name he tilted his head. A train that ran on friendships and dreams... "You view the world... with many past tenses. I much prefer that sort of world. It's why I know they are waiting for me. I am sure you umpteenth uncle is there tyke! Everyone has parting and meetings in Canterlot! " With that the old man laid his head down, but he would not sleep, for that would call dreams...
Bygone Echo found the hug of his having the result of causing the stallion to lower to his knees and then... pull him closer? The foal was too tired to pull away so he just let it happen and took up a rather comfortable position right there like... family? How he missed that... His attention turned to Serenade even as he yawned. "Mmm... Maybe ~ Would be nice." he all but muttered as he let his head drop onto his forelegs.... Rather quickly he'd have gone right off to sleep all but cuddled up against the somewhat crazy unicorn.
Spring Serenade observed the effect the hug had on the old unicorn, and it made for something quite touching once they were settled down in the comfort of closeness. She met Strife's eyes with an almost sad gaze and tore them away, giving herself a moment to think. The mare stood and circled on her patch of sofa and folded her legs gracefully beneath her, a comfortable position. "It was better then, but the world has moved on since." Spring replied solemnly and fell silent, noting how quickly the foal had fallen asleep. No doubt the old stallion would follow suit, and she would be there to keep the terrors of night at bay. Was that not what she did, once upon a time? It seemed some things never changed.
The End.