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Found Her
By twilightgamenightCreated: 2021-07-16 21:31:33
Updated: 2021-01-31 22:02:26
Expiry: Never
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>"You don’t want that one, son. Best we can figure, she's deformed."
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"Huh."
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>"Yeah, one hell of an ugly beast," the salesman adds, walking past the creature without pause. "Good man like you needs a pony that can work, don't he?"
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>He ambles stiffly along the row of cages, passing by the cripples and other “undesirables.”
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>Those half-starved, those broken in body – or in mind.
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>Ponies with histories of abuse or resistance.
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>Slaves no one with money to burn would even look at twice.
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>The ones you can afford.
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>Better slaves, the healthy ones, those with training – they’re elsewhere. With other dealers.
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>Still…
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>Occasionally, there are surprises. Diamonds in the rough.
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>He runs his cane along the cages, the metallic cap bouncing sharply on every bar, scraping loudly on every nameplate.
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>”Now this one…”
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>The man hits the latest nameplate again.
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>”… Silver Spoon here…”
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>He smacks it third time.
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“Looks healthy enough.”
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>”Sure is! Been fed well, only had a few prior owners, none of ‘em treated her too rough.”
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“She’s young.”
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>”You’re hittin’ all the selling points,” he answers with a laugh. “A young pony can still be trained. Do the work you need her to do! They ain’t too different from any other employee, really. Get ‘em young and you can train ‘em right.”
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>He smacks the cage again.
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>”Stand up, stupid filly,” the man growls softly. “Make yourself look good.”
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>There’s a pause in his patter, perhaps the first moment of silence since you’d entered the lot.
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>”Ah, but what’d you say you were doing again? Hauling freight?”
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“Yeah.”
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>”Well, guess you need a pony that can move around quickly. This one here won’t do you much good, now will she?”
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“Why not?”
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>”Well,” he scoffs, “she’s only got the three legs.”
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>His boots scrape against the bare earth of the show lot as he walks on, his cane bouncing loudly off each bar.
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“Looks fine to me.”
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>”Nah, don’t you worry. We’ll find you a good pony. You ain’t gotta settle on the first one you see.”
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>His cane strikes another nameplate, ringing out loudly over the stifled moans and sobs.
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>”Well, turn over. Show me… yeah, I think this one’ll do you well, son. Fluttershy here’s got all her legs, wings appear to be in good shape. A bit on the scrawny side, but that’s nothin’ a few good meals and a loving home would solve. But… how soon were you lookin’ to put her to work?”
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“Today.”
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>”Well, Fluttershy?” he asks. “You feeling up to workin’ now?”
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>”No…”
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>”You work, you get fed. So howsabout you go home with this nice -”
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>”No.”
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>”Well… okay then,” he sighs. “Guess you don’t want to put in time on a fixer-upper, do you?”
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“Wings look a bit small.”
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>”Yeah, ain’t nobody want to deal with that these days.”
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>He strikes the cage, drawing a squeal from the mare.
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>”Let’s find you one a little healthier – and with a little less attitude. One that ain’t afraid of puttin’ in a little effort to earn her keep.”
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>He lashes out again. There’s no ring of metal on metal, but a hollow thud as the cane strikes flesh.
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>”How about… oh, *there*! Just follow me, son, I got the perfect mare in mind!”
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>He walks quickly, his cane dragging along loudly.
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>”Won’t give you any lip and she’ll work hard.”
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“I think I’ve found my pony.”
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>”Wait’ll you see her, son,” he laughs, “but you ain’t wrong! This one here –“
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>The nameplate clangs as he strikes it.
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>” – Rainbow Dash! She’s been through a fair few owners, more’n I’d like to admit to be true, but she’s been broken in well!”
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“I don’t need someone who’ll fight me.”
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>”I can honestly swear she won’t! Got a few scars, but aside from that, she’s in good shape. Well fed and cared for too. Last owner thought he could ‘rehabilitate’ her or something.”
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>He chuckles before continuing with his spiel.
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>”I bet you can guess how that turned out. Man gave up before too long. Anyhow son, she’ll do anything you ask of her, so if you need more’n a worker… you know, if you get what I’m sayin’…”
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>You can practically hear the sleaze rolling off of his tongue.
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“Just need someone to help load the freight. Maybe take a turn at the controls once in a while, if I can train her.”
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>”A-ah.”
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>The salesman taps his cane against the ground.
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>”Well then.”
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>Each dull thump echoes in your ears.
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>“That changes things a bit, don’t it? Dash here would do her honest best, but I don’t reckon either you or I would feel safe puttin’ her behind the controls. Can’t in good conscience sell a pony what can’t do the work, so…hmmm…”
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>He continues to tap the cane as he thinks.
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>”So, ‘bout that limit of yours… think you can go a bit over?”
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>The salesman doesn’t want for you to answer before his cane starts bouncing off the cages again.
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>”I only ask, son, ‘cause if you can go up ten, maybe twenty percent, I got you the star of my showcase. The apple of my eye, you could say.”
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>He laughs at his joke, though the meaning falls flat for you.
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>”Only came to us ‘bout two weeks ago. Good shape, hard worker, obedient, smart – but not too smart.”
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>Again, a nameplate rings out.
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>”Yeah, Applejack here. Perfect pony for you, and at only a bit more’n you were plannin’ to spend! Yep. A real beauty, ain't she?”
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“Sure is.”
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>”Yes, sir. A right smart purchase, this pony.”
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>You watch your pony carefully, the way she moves, the way she meets your gaze.
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>“I tell you what, you buy this mare, treat her proper, she'll be with you the rest of your life.”
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“She’s perfect.”
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>You walk towards her slowly.
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>”Son? Hey, son?”
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>And kneel down by her cage.
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>The nameplate is dirty, but you run your finger across the lettering.
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>”You hear a word I been saying?”
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>Eris.
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“I’ll take her.”
by twilightgamenight
by twilightgamenight
by twilightgamenight
by twilightgamenight
by twilightgamenight